tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82819255925959583182024-03-13T04:02:51.122+00:00Janine AshblessI'm a writer of erotic fiction, mostly of a paranormal/fantasy bent. Welcome to my Blog! Adults only please ... you know the drill. All commenters welcome. All text copyright Janine Ashbless unless otherwise stated.Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.comBlogger2073125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-4262811241723462492021-08-23T15:40:00.001+01:002021-08-23T15:40:55.557+01:00Blue Monday: Lustcraftian Horrors is on sale!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qxhEeFeUGPQ/YSOoAVUEIwI/AAAAAAAAS2Y/iyZZfgAm4foDaEnenVH6l4NBH2X1SESrQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Lustcraftian%2BHorrors%2BOne%2BCover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1354" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qxhEeFeUGPQ/YSOoAVUEIwI/AAAAAAAAS2Y/iyZZfgAm4foDaEnenVH6l4NBH2X1SESrQCLcBGAsYHQ/w424-h640/Lustcraftian%2BHorrors%2BOne%2BCover.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><p></p><p>My story <b>The Witch's Need</b> appears in the<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lustcraftian-Horrors-Stories-Inspired-Lovecraft-ebook/dp/B0993SVCVM/" target="_blank"> <b>Lustcraftian Horrors</b></a> anthology, edited by Hydra M. Star, which is on release now! For all you fans of tentacles and unhappy endings...</p><p><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, Times New Roman EmbeddedFont, Times New Roman MSFontService, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></span></i></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, Times New Roman EmbeddedFont, Times New Roman MSFontService, serif;"><span>Lovecraft
never intended for his mythos to be overtly sexual, but the Great Old
Ones
are horny for human flesh and all those hybrids don’t just create
themselves. Within </span></span></i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, Times New Roman EmbeddedFont, Times New Roman MSFontService, serif;"><span>Lustcraftian Horrors</span></span><i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, Times New Roman EmbeddedFont, Times New Roman MSFontService, serif;"><span> lies thirteen glimpses into the
sexual adventures, dominance, and violations the Elder Gods and their
kin visit upon the unsuspecting human world. Consider
your triggers warned and prepare to enter the void.</span></span></i></span></blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, Times New Roman EmbeddedFont, Times New Roman MSFontService, serif;"><i><b>The Witch's Need</b></i> (excerpt) by Janine Ashbless</span></span></p><p>Agnes looked around her prison, determined not to think more on the men, though the ache in her cunny made her clench her fists. They’d left her one candle in a horn-windowed lantern; it was just enough light to make out her surroundings. The crypt was rectangular, with two raised tombs either side of an aisle to a rear apse, where the stone figure of some medieval knight lay in state on his sarcophagus. Probably these belonged to the Squire’s own forebears, but they did not interest her greatly. The dead were not her provenance. More frustratingly—and more by luck than design, or so she assumed—the close-set flagstones and walls offered her no glimpse of the raw earth she hoped to find. Earth might permit her aid; stone did not. </p><p>She sighed and sat on the corner of one of the tombs, resting her sore legs. They’d kept her standing all day—another petty cruelty, like the fact she’d been given nothing to eat—but the pressure of the stone between her legs was soothing now and she tilted against the hard surface, grinding her hips. Then she lifted her layered skirts and touched her mound, sliding her finger into the slick furrow between her newly-shaven nether lips. Her sex felt strange to her, a foreign thing. Mother Hislop, the old bitch, had stuck her fingers inside during the search for the witch-mark, and Agnes had had to stifle her groan of involuntary arousal. She’d not been able to hide the slickness of her gape though, or the spasming clench of her muscles. Mother Hislop had been triumphant in her disapproval. </p><p>Ah, if only she did possess the powers they accused her of. She would like to blast them all with the ague and the cholera. <i>Let them shit themselves to death</i>. </p><p>Agnes pressed her fingers to her wetness then and worked it over her pip, hoping to comfort her need. It might be her last chance, she thought, before they hanged her on Whinney Gibbet for the crows to pick at. Maybe the next fellows to enjoy her hot cunny would be the worms that feasted there, and what pleasure would she get from that? This night could be her final ride. </p><p>Then she heard footfalls on the steps outside, and voices, and the rasp of metal. They were returning. She bit her lip. </p><p>When the Witchfinder walked into the crypt followed by two of his soldiers, Agnes was bringing herself to climax, her thighs spread wide, her feet braced on the carved stone of the tomb, and her hand working frantically on her exposed gash. She locked eyes with him, gasping as she tumbled over into her ecstasy, defiant in her shamelessness. </p><p>The two soldiers, hands full of the things they carried, stared with mouths open. She liked that. </p><p>“Are you quite finished?” asked the Witchfinder coldly. </p><p>She withdrew her sticky, pungent fingers with a grin and rearranged her skirts in a parody of decorum. The last waves of her bliss washed through her, balm to her rage and her need. “For the moment.”
<span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Buy <i><b>Lustcraftian Horrors</b></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Lustcraftian-Horrors-Stories-Inspired-Lovecraft-ebook/dp/B0993SVCVM/" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a><i><b> <br /></b></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lustcraftian-Horrors-Stories-Inspired-Lovecraft-ebook/dp/B0993SVCVM/" target="_blank">Amazon US </a><i><b><br /></b></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.lulu.com/en/us/shop/hydra-m-star/lustcraftian-horrors-erotic-stories-inspired-by-h-p-lovecraft/paperback/product-2ngj7v.html" target="_blank">Print</a> <br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0993SVCVM" target="_blank">Kindle</a> <br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lustcraftian-horrors-hydra-m-star/1139823855?ean=2940162171188" target="_blank">Nook</a> <br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58544233-lustcraftian-horrors" target="_blank">GoodReads</a></span><br /></p>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-12211767600132486432021-07-13T15:04:00.001+01:002021-07-13T15:38:23.703+01:00Not Dead But Writing!<p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YCzR9gSCNiI/YO2FoZzgsdI/AAAAAAAAS1w/o2tLf_sUC98Iu16fS_qITC86eoU7Ac_HACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Lustcraftian%2BHorrors%2BOne%2BCover.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1354" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YCzR9gSCNiI/YO2FoZzgsdI/AAAAAAAAS1w/o2tLf_sUC98Iu16fS_qITC86eoU7Ac_HACLcBGAsYHQ/w424-h640/Lustcraftian%2BHorrors%2BOne%2BCover.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"That Is Not Dead Which Can Still Type"<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Hello Blog! Boy, it's a bit dusty in here ... *blows cobwebs off Blogger*<br /><br />This is the BIG UPDATE POST just to let you know that Janine Ashbless survived the lockdown and is still (sorta) around. In fact ... *fanfare*<br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">🎺 I'VE GOT A NEW SHORT STORY COMING OUT!!! 🎺<br /></span></p><p>My story <i><b>The Witch's Need </b></i>is due to appear in <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lustcraftian-Horrors-Stories-Inspired-Lovecraft-ebook/dp/B0993SVCVM/" target="_blank">Lustcraftian Horrors</a>, edited by <b>Hydra M. Star</b>, which is currently up for pre-orders on Amazon, due for release in August!</p><p><b></b></p><blockquote><b><i> Lovecraft never intended for his mythos to be overtly sexual, but the
Great Old Ones are horny for human flesh and all those hybrids don’t
just create themselves. Within Lustcraftian Horrors lies thirteen
glimpses into the sexual adventures, dominance, and violations the Elder
Gods and their kin visit upon the unsuspecting human world. Consider
your triggers warned and prepare to enter the void.</i></b></blockquote><p></p><p>I shall be posting an excerpt from my story in due course; but here's how it opens...</p><p></p><blockquote><i>After the first day of her trial, they moved Agnes Pritchard to the crypt of the village church for safekeeping overnight. Since she hadn’t deigned to plead her innocence, the Witchfinder John Samuels had declared her a more-than-usually-arrogant and dangerous sorceress, and no one wanted to have her on their land overnight, not even in a guarded barn. If she had denied the charges then they would have kept her awake all night, working in teams to walk her up and down without rest, in the hope of causing her to summon her familiars and so prove her guilt. But there was no need in this case. Her contemptuous silence was as good as a confession.</i></blockquote><p></p>
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<![endif]--></p><p style="text-align: center;">* * * * * * * * * * <br /></p><p>It is in many ways an incredibly appropriate story to introduce this roundup of my news. It also may well be the most appropriate story on which to bow out as Janine Ashbless, if that is to happen. </p><p>Those of you who have no idea what Lovecraftian fiction <i>is </i>might struggle with the rest of this blogpost! 😋 Any description of what I've been doing for the last two years is going to reference him and his Cthulhu Mythos. MY WRITING DREAMS HAVE ALL COME TRUE so please forgive my allcaps and blog silence! </p><p>If you'd asked me at any time in the last three decades what I would most like to be known for writing, it wouldn't be for erotica. I would have said <b>"I want to write <a href="https://www.chaosium.com/call-of-cthulhu-rpg/" target="_blank"><i>Call of Cthulhu</i> for Chaosium</a>."</b></p><p>And that's what I'm doing right now - which is why I've put the erotica and even the horror fiction on the back-burner. <b>Chaosium Inc</b>. is a major roleplaying games company, and I've been working freelance for them. First I contributed to the forthcoming <a href="https://www.chaosium.com/blogchaosium-announces-rivers-of-london-roleplaying-game/" target="_blank">Rivers of London RPG</a>. And then I was handed the humungous task of reworking <i><b>Cthulhu by Gaslight</b></i>, their Victorian setting for the <i>Call of Cthulhu</i> game, into a new and improved edition. I've had some experience with running Victorian horror LARP, but this is on another level altogether, so basically I've been researching and writing non-fiction for the last year. The first <i>Gaslight </i>book has been turned in and I'm hard at work on the second. I am wonderfully, <i>stupidly</i>, happy, and also a bit cross-eyed from hyper-focus.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BKv7S8aysG4/YO2ORkr6s4I/AAAAAAAAS14/hIC8LNdxHKwmga_AlSVTMSUhZF6WSl35wCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/tentacles.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="519" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BKv7S8aysG4/YO2ORkr6s4I/AAAAAAAAS14/hIC8LNdxHKwmga_AlSVTMSUhZF6WSl35wCLcBGAsYHQ/s16000/tentacles.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my life now<br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p></p><p>I've not been blogging much because this blog belongs to Janine Ashbless, erotica writer - and though there is some overlap in readership with my horror and gaming interests (and there are many posts to prove it), it would be a distinct and confusing change of direction to start talking tentacles <i>all </i>the time.</p><p>Will I be writing more smut in future? Who can say? The current puritanical publishing atmosphere does not make it rewarding or inspiring. <b>Sinful Press</b> (very much missed) is only one of the many presses, small and large, to have closed their doors recently, and my optimism has run low. It is probably a lot easier to self-publish than to go through endless cycles of submitting stories, waiting months (sometimes years) for publication, and crossing fingers for payment - just to see the anthology/press pulled from the shelves. I'm re-releasing as much of my own stuff in e-format as possible, but it will only take one censorious move from Amazon to destroy decades of work.<br /></p><p>I'm not planning for the future. I'm enjoying what I'm writing NOW. And Now is awesome 💝💝💝<br /></p><p>My <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorJanineAshbless" target="_blank">Janine Ashbless Facebook Page</a> is still ticking over.</p><p>And I am active on Facebook under my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless" target="_blank">Keris McDonald name </a><br /></p>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-73121543458437465552020-12-24T12:06:00.001+00:002020-12-24T12:06:46.169+00:00Hairy Christmas!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E7Dzx8nCWKA/X-SCJiNquuI/AAAAAAAASq8/5j5mKC-ud54JPkaDkHfZviplPZ0jaV4KgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1992/angel%2B2%2B2020.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1992" data-original-width="1120" height="682" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E7Dzx8nCWKA/X-SCJiNquuI/AAAAAAAASq8/5j5mKC-ud54JPkaDkHfZviplPZ0jaV4KgCLcBGAsYHQ/w384-h682/angel%2B2%2B2020.jpg" width="384" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /><br />
<br />Angelic blessings!
This year a dear friend sent me the best Christmas tree ornament EVER. It's supposed to be a fluffy angel, she <i>swears</i>.</p><p>
I think it looks like a hairy vulva and that's how it's always going to be in my mind. 😂😂😂 <br /></p><p>So here's wishing everyone Happy Holidays and a very Hairy Muffmas - may you find peace and renewal in the darkest days of a dark year, and look to the coming of the light! </p><p></p><p>💖💖💖<br /><br /><br /></p>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-72474077730998116572020-11-02T21:36:00.013+00:002020-11-02T21:42:11.358+00:00Blue Monday: Yan, Tan Tethera, Methera<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pyT0BxJXSLc/X6B9EOyrCzI/AAAAAAAASqc/31E-WR-WiPEiW_r-SXJzt03YSTkfXtQ9QCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/In%2BMedias%2BRes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="644" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pyT0BxJXSLc/X6B9EOyrCzI/AAAAAAAASqc/31E-WR-WiPEiW_r-SXJzt03YSTkfXtQ9QCLcBGAsYHQ/w269-h400/In%2BMedias%2BRes.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><br /><p></p> <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MC9GWQ3" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> ::<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Medias-Res-YOU-Midst-Things-ebook/dp/B08MC9GWQ3/" target="_blank"> Amazon UK</a></span><p><i>To celebrate the e-publication of </i><b>In Medias Res</b><i>, a collection of no-holds-barred erotic stories (about 10K each) told in the second person, here's an excerpt from my story </i><b>Yan, Tan, Tethera Methera.</b> <i>And in case you are wondering what the hell that title means, it's a<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yan_Tan_Tethera" target="_blank"> very old way of counting sheep</a>. It exists - or existed - in many dialect variations across Northern England, but the rhyme I've used goes...</i><br /><br /><b>Yan, Tan, Tethera, Methera, Pip,<br />Sethera, Lethera, Hovera, Dovera, Dick.</b></p><p><i>This is quite a lot of Dick in my story as it is all about trolls who keep humans as sex-pets. And trolls are not small. </i></p><p><i>... And not vegetarian.</i></p><p><i>This story is pretty damn dark. We're definitely in erotic horror territory. </i><i>When a human male comes into Methera's life and challenges all her old assumptions, things get </i><i>very dicey. I wanted to write about the terrible dangers of love, as well as about good old-fashioned monster-fucking </i>😉 <i></i></p><p><i>Here's a little taste:</i></p><p><i>_____________________________________________________________________<br /></i></p><p>
Xanto carries you home over one broad shoulder; he moves much more swiftly at his own crouching lope than when he’s letting you set the pace. When he drops down into the cluster of chambers that make up the nest, he’s surrounded at once by your fellow yows, vying to welcome him back. Draped ass-up over his well-padded back, you can hear all and catch glimpses of the others and the caresses they lavish upon him. Pip is literally dancing about in circles, swinging her long, dark braid.</p><p>For a while, he puts up with the effusiveness of the welcome, but then he growls, “Enough!” </p><p>Everyone scatters, abashed. </p><p>As Xanto drops you to the floor in front of him, you feel their eyes upon you, curious, but your own attention is, of course, on him. Myriad hands caressing his thighs have had their effect, and his pizzle is swinging heavily between his ankles. You touch it, feeling the ridged silk of the skin and the incredible weight and heat and girth of him. He’s aroused enough for the first exudate to appear at the tip, a clear and slippery gel that creates a blessed natural lube for troll penetration, and you use both hands to smear it back over the cock’s blunt head, hearing his rumble of approval. Grateful tears swell your throat. </p><p>“I don’t want to mate with the tup,” you whisper, working his cock. “I just want you, Papa Xanto. Don’t make me mate with the human, Papa. I love you! You are the only one I want!”</p><p>His growl is so deep that it’s almost below the threshold of hearing. “Turn around.” </p><p>You obey, dropping to knees and elbows, tail lifted high, and you feel the heat of his huge body as he squats carefully behind you. “Please, Papa!” </p><p>“Methera, little one,” he says, as he lays one hand between your shoulder blades. You can feel the tips of his claws. “This is foolishness. Are you seeing Yan or any of the others make such a fuss about their tuppings?” </p><p>Yan is watching you darkly from the margin of the cave. </p><p>“No,” you admit.</p><p>Xanto draws his claws softly down the smooth skin of your back, while his other hand strokes the ivory stem of your tail, stirring the thick plug within your ass, awakening the dark ripples of readiness that surge through your insides. “Tell me who it is you belong to, little one.” </p><p>You groan as the shifting plug works its secret magic. You’re aware of its presence at all times. How could you not be? But when it is in motion, it overwhelms all else. “I belong to you, Papa Xanto.” </p><p>“That you do. I own your mother before you. Four times I have her tupped, and four beautiful babies she lambs for me in her time. But you are the most beautiful, Methera, and the only one I keep for myself. I love you, little one. I am not wanting to hurt you.” </p><p>“I love you, Papa,” you whimper. “Please.” </p><p>“Then do not irritate me like this. Do as I tell you. If you anger me, Methera, I am eating you in two bites. Is that what you are wanting?” </p><p>The thought of his huge jaws closing about your body, his fangs piecing your sweet flesh, combine with the churning of the tail-plug in your ass to make your sex juices gush. But you answer, “No, Papa,” because you are not stupid. </p><p>“Good girl,” he growls. The clench of your rear is loose with surrender now, and the plug slithers out half-way, stretching your sphincter around the fullest point of its girth. Xanto gives it another pump and a wriggle for good measure, and you groan. “You are my good girl,” he says, a little breathless, popping the tail clear. “I know you are being good.” </p><p>For a moment, you experience the terrible ache of an empty hole—a void that seems vast and unbearable in its hollowness. Your muscles spasm hungrily. You drop your shoulder to the floor and, with one hand, strum your clit-chain. </p><p>Then Xanto presses the tip of his cock to that needy clench and pushes, stretching that gape to its greatest extent. “Ah,” he grunts, drawing his hand down your back and scouring you with his claws. </p><p>You spasm with orgasm, squealing, and though his bluntly pointed tip is as big as your own clenched fist, your ass all but sucks it in. Through the rush of blood in your head, you feel him moving within you, magnificent and careful. He’s far, far too big to sheathe himself full length in your meager human hole, but as he pushes in and pulls out at the entrance, the slippery squeeze on the sensitized tip of his prod is enough to provoke him. With a deep “Uh,” that makes your ears buzz, he spurts, filling your ass with scalding hot troll cream. It squirts out around his shaft as he keeps pushing, in and out, and that slop is enough to set you off again, crying out in abandon. </p><p>The other yows glare and play with their clit-chains, aroused and envious. </p><p> <i>_____________________________________________________________________</i></p> <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MC9GWQ3" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> ::<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Medias-Res-YOU-Midst-Things-ebook/dp/B08MC9GWQ3/" target="_blank"> Amazon UK</a></span><p></p>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-26498001328009311622020-11-01T16:42:00.003+00:002020-11-01T16:42:57.230+00:00Yan, Tan, Tethera, Methera: new story out now!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QUbA2fZyTN4/X57f2RQ6aAI/AAAAAAAASqE/hpcw20flUPoknEd9l7GYoTsA7hxW0z-dgCLcBGAsYHQ/s960/In%2BMedias%2BRes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="644" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QUbA2fZyTN4/X57f2RQ6aAI/AAAAAAAASqE/hpcw20flUPoknEd9l7GYoTsA7hxW0z-dgCLcBGAsYHQ/w430-h640/In%2BMedias%2BRes.jpg" width="430" /></a></div><p></p><p></p><p>It's been a long wait but I'VE GOT A NEW EROTIC STORY ON SALE! Yippee!! 💝💝💝🎉🎈🎆</p><p><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MC9GWQ3" target="_blank"><b>In Medias Res: you in the midst of things</b></a>, an anthology edited by <b>Rose Caraway</b>, is OUT NOW in e-format and soon to be in audio too!<br /><br /><b><i></i></b></p><blockquote><b><i>IN</i> <i>MEDIAS</i> RES</b> puts YOU 'In the Midst of Things.' It's a collection of erotic stories unlike any other. Curated by Rose Caraway, host of the <a href="https://www.thekissmequicks.com/" target="_blank"><b>Kiss Me Quick's Erotica Podcast</b></a>,
you will connect with desire and fantasy in a whole new way through
tales told in the second-person perspective. Partake in every moment as
YOU are cast as the main character in each of these stories.</blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MC9GWQ3" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> ::<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Medias-Res-YOU-Midst-Things-ebook/dp/B08MC9GWQ3/" target="_blank"> Amazon UK</a></span><br /></p><p>It includes my story <b><i>Yan, Tan, Tethera, Methera </i></b>- but here's the sparkling author lineup:</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pqLgjgvoA5U/X57fgeKhdnI/AAAAAAAASp8/9mIfKjFG7ZcPltrp7dYe4TL44IBtFvvbwCLcBGAsYHQ/s861/IMR%2Bteaser.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="861" data-original-width="828" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pqLgjgvoA5U/X57fgeKhdnI/AAAAAAAASp8/9mIfKjFG7ZcPltrp7dYe4TL44IBtFvvbwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMR%2Bteaser.jpg" /></a></div>1) BASIC TRAINING by <i>Rachel Kramer Bussel</i>:<br /><blockquote>The phone rings,
and you know by the sound that it's your Dom. He wants you, his prized
submissive, available tomorrow. He's sending his limo to pick you up
early to bring you to his luxurious estate. His plans? A
challenge--featuring you, five strangers, and the fulfillment of your
fantasies. You will be graded on your performance.</blockquote><br />2) THE CLASSICAL EDUCATION OF A MODERN YOUNG MAN by <i>Malin James</i>:<br /><blockquote>Dr.
Bixby-Charles is a goddess of a woman who outclasses you in every way.
She's been your tutor since Freshman year. Over these last four years,
she's given you an appreciation for the arts, culture, and Jazz--not to
mention countless secret erotic fantasies. But now, you're graduating,
and it's time to say good-bye to the boy you were and hello to the man
you want to become.</blockquote><br />3) POS by <i>Sonni de Soto</i>:<br /><blockquote>You and
your husband have learned a lot about one another, playing out sex
scenes at home. You've tackled some pretty tricky topics and dealt with
intense emotions along the way, which has allowed trust and adventure to
blossom in your relationship; it's become your cornerstone--your
foundation. Now, you've invited a long-time friend to play out a
particularly vicious scene with you. Can you three handle it?</blockquote><br />4) UNDER THE LANDSLIDE by <i>Jade A. Waters</i>:<br /><blockquote>He's
at your doorstep, and he's not supposed to be. What you both feel is
very real, and it impels you to come together again and again. It's a
tangled mess--obsession, moral conflict, knowing there's no future with
him. But, hard as you try, there's just no getting around the undeniable
passion you both feel. Last time was supposed to be the last time.</blockquote><br />5) ODONTE by <i>Tamsin Flowers</i>:<br /><blockquote>Kit
McIntyre is the best Shakespearean actor of his generation, and he's
your husband. He commands the stage with every performance while you,
his biggest cheerleader, stay in the dressing room with Odonte, a
handsome, worldly man...and your best friend. Odonte has many stories to
tell, in particular, a provocative tale about your illustrious husband.</blockquote><br />6) DOVE SONG by <i>Rose Caraway</i>:<br /><blockquote>It's
1880. Your Mistress has been dead a year. It's fallen to you to run
Wineman House, and its "redeemed whores" with an iron fist, just as you
vowed. Guests are to arrive soon--their bids have been placed. You know
that promise means denying your pleasures and predilections, as well as
losing the girls you've grown to care for--especially Mae, your feisty,
freckled love, and Martha, your devoted housemaid who wants nothing
more than to bask in your carnal eminence. And then there's Samuel
Fairaway, the mansion's renowned gunslinger, whom you've shared a
particular brand of violence with, in private sessions.Wineman
House's loathsome handyman, Ben, has been slingin' back whiskey all
morning, and he wants to be sure you will keep your promise.</blockquote><br />7) YAN, TAN, TETHERA, METHERA by <i>Janine Ashbless</i>:<br /><blockquote>Papa
Xanto is the biggest, dirtiest, most formidable troll down in the
warren, and you, his most revered human 'yow.' You have been just as
dedicated to your intense breeding-tutelage as Pappa has been. Your
nestmates are jealous of your many silver piercings, bracelets, chains,
and rings, but you are most proud of your girthy, carved ivory
tail-plug--having trained so hard to be able to take something the size
of an adult troll's pizzle. Today, Papa Xanto is taking you to the
tup-fair to find you a suitable human sire. More than anything, you want
to bring your Papa offspring and honor.</blockquote><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08MC9GWQ3" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> ::<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Medias-Res-YOU-Midst-Things-ebook/dp/B08MC9GWQ3/" target="_blank"> Amazon UK</a></span></p><p><br />I'll be posting an excerpt tomorrow!<br /></p>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-62608742956012327852020-08-20T09:30:00.000+01:002020-08-20T09:30:03.661+01:00Guest post: Ashley Lister on Blackstone Towers<u><b>Blackstone Towers Blog Tour – Day Seven </b></u><br />
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First, I’d like to thank Janine for allowing me to bring my blog tour here today. This is day seven of the blog tour and I’m very excited because I’ve written a really fun horror novel and I want to tell you a little bit about it.<br />
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(I’ll be honest and admit I’m introducing myself in the same way each day, in case these words encounter someone who doesn’t know me or who hasn’t been following the blog tour. If you’ve already read my introduction on one of the other blogs, or if you simply don’t care who I am or what I’ve got to say, skip to the bit under the picture of the book cover).<br />
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By way of introduction, I should begin by saying my name is <b>Ashley Lister</b>; I write horror fiction and some of the crudest poetry known to mankind; and I’m here talking about a horror novel I’ve written which will be published on August 22nd. It’s called <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08F2T2K5M/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&qid=1596278235&refinements=p_27%3AAshley+Lister&s=digital-text&sr=1-1&text=Ashley+Lister" target="_blank"><i><b>Blackstone Towers</b></i></a> and this is what the story is about:<br />
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<i>The talismans of the magi control seven realms of the mortal world. One can grant the bearer immortality; another gives its owner unfathomable wealth; a third gives the holder unerring foresight. There is a talisman to control reality, success, the deliberate and the accidental, and a talisman that governs the balance between love and hate.
The planets are now aligning, and one worldly resident of Blackstone Towers knows the talismans urgently need collecting and destroying before they fall into the wrong hands.
The only problem is establishing whose hands are the wrong ones.</i><br />
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This is a novel that includes zombies, ghosts, daemons and other generally scary creatures. The first question people ask when you write a novel that includes such features is, “Do you believe in ghosts?”<br />
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Naturally, this shouldn’t be the first question anyone asks me. I think the first question should be, “That sounds awesome! Where can I buy a copy? And can I look at your back catalogue too?”<br />
<br />
However, we don’t live in my ideal world so I’ll answer the popular question first: do I believe in ghosts?<br />
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The honest answer is: what time is it?<br />
<br />
I’m writing this in daylight. I’ve got a portly dog on my lap and the soundtrack for <i>Guardians of the Galaxy</i> is playing in the background. Of course I know there’s no such thing as ghosts or the supernatural. If something does unexpectedly make a noise, the chances are that it’s the farty little dog on my lap.<br />
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However, tonight, I’d have a different response. I don’t believe in ghosts. But I also make sure I turn on every light in the house if I’m going for a late night pee. I used to work for a funeral director (I mentioned this earlier in the week) and I’m only just beginning to realise it probably wasn’t the best occupation for someone with my susceptible disposition. One night, and this was two in the morning night, I’d been called to drive the funeral director’s ambulance to a rural farmhouse.<br />
<br />
It was very sad, as all deaths are. A relatively young man had passed away from cancer.<br />
The funeral director had met me at the farmhouse and he helped me get the body into the back of the vehicle. And then I was expected to drive back through unlit and unfamiliar country roads, alone save for the dead body in the back of the ambulance.<br />
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I saw things on that journey home that could only have come from my imagination. As the promise of dawn crept toward the horizon, I saw the edges of the landscape shift as though it was a behemoth, uncurling and preparing to devour the tiny mortals that scurried over the earth.<br />
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I definitely didn’t hear anything in the back of the ambulance, scratching at the door that separated me and my travelling companion. I didn’t hear any strange sounds like that and I don’t still hear echoes of those sounds when I’m alone at home in the dark.<br />
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All of which is my way of building to my question for today: <b>Do you believe in ghosts? And, if so, why?</b>
Answer below, if that’s easiest for you. I’ll be checking back throughout the day. Answer on Twitter if you prefer, using the hashtag #BlackstoneTowers. If you don’t use Twitter, and don’t like the comments box, please feel free to email me at me@ashleylister.co.uk. I’ll be collecting all the answers and, on the day of publication, <span style="color: red;">I’ll chose my favourite response and send one lucky winner a free copy of one of my novels. </span><br />
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This is day 7 of a 9 day blog tour and, each day up to the launch, I’ll be on a different blog, as detailed below. And, each day, I’ll be asking a different question. Please feel free to follow me, answer as many questions as you like, and if you’ve got any questions about the book or anything else, I’ll be happy to answer.<br />
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Also, if you fancy coming to the online launch, where I’ll be reading from <i>Blackstone Towers</i> and sharing some of my ribald poetry, drop me an email and I’ll send you an invite.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z5XXEzNlHHk/Xz2pwmOe9ZI/AAAAAAAASo4/ktCXjIgbPFEQm-h_AON-IkKNxStl8fKjgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Blackstone%2BTowers2%2B%2B%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="1066" height="355" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z5XXEzNlHHk/Xz2pwmOe9ZI/AAAAAAAASo4/ktCXjIgbPFEQm-h_AON-IkKNxStl8fKjgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Blackstone%2BTowers2%2B%2B%25282%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
Thank you again to Janine Ashbless and to all you readers. I look forward to hearing what you’d do with the gift of foresight. And, if you want to pre-order a copy of Blackstone Towers, this link should take you through to the<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08F2T2K5M/" target="_blank"> Amazon page</a> Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-36583852931787526682020-08-11T20:12:00.000+01:002020-08-11T20:14:28.563+01:00WAP<p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/hsm4poTWjMs" width="560"></iframe> </p><p> This truly magnificent video and very catchy track has been quite controversial recently, it appears. Politicians have been parading their shocked tears. Because it's okay for male rappers to go on about how horny they are feel, but if women do it they are a <i>threat to civilisation</i>. You can read all about it <a href="https://metro.co.uk/2020/08/08/cardi-b-megan-thee-stallions-wap-proves-society-still-hates-sexually-powerful-women-13102005/" target="_blank">here </a>if you like.</p><p>The version above, by the way, is the censored one. Full and filthy lyrics here:<br /><br />
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/10cRNiXlWRQ" width="560"></iframe></p><p>
And if you think any of this is new, <b>Whores of Yore</b> has an EPIC <a href="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Ftwitter.com%2Fwhoresofyore%2Fstatus%2F1292152924089524224%3Fs%3D21%26fbclid%3DIwAR3KKVvct_tWWKXzS0h93IlQET7YGoacPPFwQbtb4HFfm6hKfUwdNyM2Soc&h=AT37QNlWzzd-QmXSt9m4XELjA54J-cWH6FBNlH0KLMz0gPW3Envn64FwCC-5jXhMqiFrJzrCznLuRZv2NtJFZ8Ej6fZ8iiCRT8d2LpaiH7TrE2YJ47asTBC0q727kiuYizRu&__tn__=R]-R&c[0]=AT1LIgBFax2adDBZo0p9jlkAMb33vo73AO9vPkwuRCCYgAqHqC_hpOdXis7I-A0YZWRSZCTJJ-RpfTYJNKC3YEgApGDZ4di3J6xJz6c7rn4BqhwNUSE5FAfz-tGLoIyrbPLy2XUs_6nDJQyGpNYi5g-iG6z3OFX5wkJjdNN-KzDrwmB4UDq2VnEbH8Fk" target="_blank">Twitter thread </a>about blues lyrics by women in the 1920s and 30s that will make your jaw drop and your hair curl! </p><p><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-1qd0xha r-ad9z0x r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0"></span></p><blockquote><p><i><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-1qd0xha r-ad9z0x r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0">"I got nipples on my titties big as the end of my thumb</span></i></p><p><i><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-1qd0xha r-ad9z0x r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0">I got somethin' 'tween my legs 'll make a dead man come.</span></i></p><p><i><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-1qd0xha r-ad9z0x r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0">....</span></i> <i></i></p><blockquote><i><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-1qd0xha r-ad9z0x r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0">Say I fucked all night, and all the night before baby, </span></i></blockquote><p></p></blockquote><blockquote><p><i><span class="css-901oao css-16my406 r-1qd0xha r-ad9z0x r-bcqeeo r-qvutc0">And I feel just like I wanna, fuck some more”.</span></i></p></blockquote><p> <br /></p><p>
<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/gkPCmIxv-3k" width="560"></iframe> </p><p>All power to those wonderful women who fiercely own their sexual desire! 💖👿💖 </p>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-33948907928110798842020-06-18T12:06:00.000+01:002020-06-18T12:13:31.953+01:00For the Shame of It<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9uHD9-l_KA/XutFJShfe3I/AAAAAAAASnU/DEH-WXZfnE87lVwcuVzVBtUcDh1IKiWoACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Named-Shamed-2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9uHD9-l_KA/XutFJShfe3I/AAAAAAAASnU/DEH-WXZfnE87lVwcuVzVBtUcDh1IKiWoACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Named-Shamed-2017.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This is so great! At a time when I'm struggling to even remember the joy of writing fiction, <b>LN Bey</b> shoots me broadside with a huge post about writing Plague Porn, Consent and Dub-con ... which happens to include an enthusiastic (and very detailed) review of <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Named-Shamed-dirty-erotic-fairy/dp/1910908193/" target="_blank">Named and Shamed</a>, my most outrageous erotic novel. 😊😵😳😊<br />
<br />
"<b>Relentlessly filthy</b>" is how LN describes it! Also "<b>It’s a tricky, <i>tricky</i> thing to pull off—and many fans of more cozy erotica will probably not approve. Let them. I fully understand that this novel might not be everyone’s proverbial cuppa."</b><br />
<br />
Here's the link to <a href="http://lnbey.com/classics-ashbless-named-shamed/" target="_blank">THE POST IN FULL<b> </b></a>('ware spoilers)<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><i>"Named & Shamed</i> is not about a viral invasion of Britain and Europe, with its accompanying medieval cultural trimmings. It portrays an invasion by those horrific legends and myths themselves. In this world created by Ashbless, all the once-supposed causes of human suffering—the witches, fairies, and ogres of the Middle Ages—have come back, from the netherworld, from whatever dimension they’ve been in, and they are causing societal havoc. People are self-isolating, afraid to leave their houses—and let me tell you, they are no kinder than a mindless virus. They just have a far more wicked sense of humor. <i>Named & Shamed</i> is not only one of the most outright filthiest erotic novels I’ve ever read (possibly <i>the</i> filthiest—that’s a compliment, btw), it is primarily about how those old stories linger, even into our modern age—there’s something in our collective psyches that has never quite let go."</b></blockquote>
<br />
Thank you LN - I am all wibbly with delight! 💖💖💖 Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-30099393193282860422020-05-28T17:58:00.001+01:002020-05-28T18:05:06.259+01:00For your shelf-ish desires<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qq_53ndi1Nk/Xs_gZM_DFII/AAAAAAAASmw/HHnqTjkHfQMeSeeOGfLyyKXClXzxV4MBACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/quarantinebooks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qq_53ndi1Nk/Xs_gZM_DFII/AAAAAAAASmw/HHnqTjkHfQMeSeeOGfLyyKXClXzxV4MBACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/quarantinebooks.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
<br />
I thought I'd pop in with some recommendations for scurrilous books I've been reading under lockdown. First, a couple of new ones:<br />
<br />
<i><b>A Curious History of Sex </b></i>is by Dr Kate Lister of <a href="https://www.thewhoresofyore.com/" target="_blank">Whores of Yore</a> fame and it's a publication I backed on Kickstarter. <i><b>Sex and Sexuality in Victorian Britain</b></i> is by our international goth correspondent Violet Fenn and has just been released this last week. Both are easy-reading non-fiction, written with wit and a real fondness for their subject matter, and are to be recommended for any historian's bookshelf. Buy them and annoy your friends by reading out Interesting But Dirty Facts 😉😉😉<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Curious-History-Sex-Kate-Lister/dp/1783528052" target="_blank">Buy <i>A Curious History of Sex</i></a><br />
<a href="https://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/Violet-Fenn/a/3720" target="_blank">Buy <i>Sex and Sexuality in Victorian Britain</i></a></div>
<br />
Not so new is the immense graphic novel<b> Lost Girls, </b>authored by my writing hero Alan Moore and painted by Melinda Gebbie. Originally an extraordinarily expensive trilogy that has been out of print for a few years, it's now a single-volume edition (with extra material) currently on sale via their eBay shop at an <b>astounding £20 (+P&P)</b>!<br />
<br />
So if, like me, you have been waiting to find an affordable copy, THIS IS YOUR CHANCE to read about Alice (of Wonderland), Wendy Darling and Dorothy Gale meeting as adults on the eve of WW1 and regaling each other with the "true" versions of their famous adventures. Careful with this one - it's very beautiful and artsy and intelligent (and very hot), but strong stuff even for porn and I'm slightly surprised it hasn't been banned. Moore rather famously does not give a shit what anyone thinks and does not believe in censoring art.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.ebay.co.uk/itm/193475447704" target="_blank">Buy <i>Lost Girls</i></a></div>
<br />Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-53592556077005455232020-04-28T17:12:00.000+01:002020-04-28T17:20:37.703+01:00This be the verseHah! Look what I found! It's me reading my poem <i><b>On Erotic Vocabulary</b></i>, way back in 2015:<br />
<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx66LaZqO84rXeImIMmgjqTaqlUW2zeX9Nhn8R74IPOqZ35UaZKG0GiZ4-kFCUcmkm03CfKhkpCglcFhbtCZw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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It's one of three of mine (with varying degrees of silliness) published in <i><b>Coming Together in Verse:</b></i><br />
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Coming-Together-Verse-Ashley-Lister/dp/1518833667" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> :: <a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Coming-Together-Verse-Ashley-Lister/dp/1518833667/" target="_blank">Amazon UK </a><i><b></b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9uaOXXfpNfw/XqhXuqmbB-I/AAAAAAAASmQ/0Tq-gXrEOLAoNcOMMcg0iFgpyKwLwe9TgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/coming%2Btogether.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="333" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9uaOXXfpNfw/XqhXuqmbB-I/AAAAAAAASmQ/0Tq-gXrEOLAoNcOMMcg0iFgpyKwLwe9TgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/coming%2Btogether.jpg" /></a></div>
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-18239182133750980462020-04-21T11:14:00.000+01:002020-04-21T11:14:08.735+01:00Blue "Monday"<i>Okay, I'm running a bit late but who's counting the days in lockdown?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Hot-to-the-Touch/Cole-Riley/9781627782975" target="_blank">Hot to the Touch </a><i>was released into the wild last week, so here's an excerpt from my story,</i> <b>Meet My Husband</b>:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LDOOzsNz0sA/Xp7Es5S0AtI/AAAAAAAASl4/MuSpQHABrPU-s6X8XYs7Cn9xYHCfcQAUgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/hot-to-the-touch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="273" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LDOOzsNz0sA/Xp7Es5S0AtI/AAAAAAAASl4/MuSpQHABrPU-s6X8XYs7Cn9xYHCfcQAUgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/hot-to-the-touch.jpg" width="272" /></a></div>
<br />
“Talking of neighbors…” said Andrew thoughtfully, and indicated the hedge with a sideways glance. “Should we perhaps continue this conversation indoors?”<br />
<br />
Jeff nodded. Cassie abandoned her dessert plate but took her wineglass. She felt giddy, but she doubted it was the fault of the single glass of chilled Chardonnay.<br />
<br />
“Want a top-up on that?” Andrew asked, and she nodded. As he scooted away to the kitchen Jeff intercepted her under the veranda, blocking her path through the cane furniture.<br />
<br />
“Did I hear you right—you're not into Andrew's peek-a-boo fantasies?”<br />
<br />
She shook her head. “I like to keep my private parts private.”<br />
<br />
“So you've never done it in the garden?”<br />
<br />
“No.” Her inner alarms were a-quiver now; she knew that husky, considering tone in Jeff's voice. She knew where those roving glances were headed.<br />
<br />
“Not even in the hot-tub? Or under here?” He indicated the structure of the veranda, its open walls almost sealed off by the heavy droops of leaves and flowers, the sunlight and shadows flickering where the breeze tried to break through. It made a lambent green room, humid with the smell of growing life.<br />
<br />
“No...”<br />
<br />
“Oh well,” he said with a grin. “Baby steps.” He looked down at her summer dress, blue cotton with a pink rose print, and put a fingertip lightly on the not-quite-risqué, almost-intimate skin of her breastbone. “Now take those panties down.”<br />
<br />
“Jeff…” she chided.<br />
<br />
“What? You scared your husband might suspect something's going on between us?” His finger traced a path downward and the voice behind his grin was low, and warm, and teasing. But there was an edge of iron in there that made her knees go weak. “I've got a kiss for you, but you need to earn it. Take them off, now.”<br />
<br />
Andrew hadn't come back into view. Cassie took a deep breath and pulled her panties down and off. She wanted that kiss, after all—she'd been two hours in his company with hardly a touch, and she wasn't used to that. She yearned to feel Jeff's mouth on hers.<br />
<br />
He held his hand out and she dropped the claret-colored thong with the lace sides into his open palm. Jeff rubbed it between his fingers. “Wet,” he said, tucking it into the breast pocket of his shirt. “Who's secretly been getting all worked up, you bad girl?”<br />
<br />
Of course she’d been getting worked up. She’d been sitting with her husband and her lover, watching both, enjoying the contrasts, yearning to break out of their stultifying politeness and touch somebody. She cast him a <i>you-got-me</i> look.<br />
<br />
Then Jeff pulled her slowly toward him and she lifted her arms about his neck, stretching up on her toes. She slid into his kiss like it was a hot bath that lapped every inch of her shivering skin. So rapt was she in the tug and tease of his mouth that it took her a moment too long to register the movement of his hands inside the spaghetti straps of her dress and down her back, deftly unclipping her matching bandeau bra. As he released her he pulled it off completely, leaving her naked beneath the thin cotton dress.<br />
<br />
Cassie flashed a protest with her eyes, but he wasn't looking that high. His free hand covered her right breast, shaping the material against its soft orb and stiff nipple. His mouth tugged in a smile even as his fingertips tugged at her, making her exhale a long whimper.<br />
<br />
“Bad, bad girl,” he breathed, and she felt the heat and the weight of her desire swell between her thighs.<br /><hr />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><b>It doesn’t matter what you heard in the past, because </b></i><b>Hot to the Touch: Views from the Polyamory Lifestyle</b><i><b> is changing the rules. Three isn’t a crowd anymore—it’s the most erotic party your x-rated mind can imagine!</b></i><br /><i>This
new collection from well-known editor Cole Riley propels readers into
the heads, hearts, and libidos of lovers committed to the Poly Life,
open relationships, open communication, and open bedroom doors. With
stories from those just beginning to explore the poly lifestyle to those
that have years of experience pleasing multiple partners—in or out of
the bedroom, together or separately—this collection will arouse your
senses and make you yearn for your own menagerie of sexual partners,
lovers, and so much more.<br /> </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>
</i></div>
<i>
You can buy</i> <b>Hot to the Touch</b> <i>at</i>:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Hot-to-the-Touch/Cole-Riley/9781627782975" target="_blank">Simon and Schuster </a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Hot-Touch-Views-Polyamory-Lifestyle-ebook/dp/B081QS4H47/" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> :: <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hot-Touch-Polyamory-Lifestyle-Anthology-ebook/dp/B081QS4H47" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a><br />
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-to-the-touch-cole-riley/1134703837" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a><br />
<a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-to-the-touch-13" target="_blank">Kobo</a>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-40671401608787798782020-04-14T16:03:00.001+01:002020-04-14T16:03:27.882+01:00Out now! Hot to the Touch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rqBErMK-ZFw/XpXJ4BytYbI/AAAAAAAASlg/7vysfgnlhO8CCTfd9D_KbRvldqcwO8jvwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/hot-to-the-touch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="273" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rqBErMK-ZFw/XpXJ4BytYbI/AAAAAAAASlg/7vysfgnlhO8CCTfd9D_KbRvldqcwO8jvwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/hot-to-the-touch.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Hot news!<br />
<br />
There's a brand new anthology of stories out today, edited by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/cole.riley.9" target="_blank">Cole Riley</a>. A collection of polyamory erotica,<a href="https://cleispress.com/book/2832/hot-to-the-touch-views-from-the-polyamory-lifestyle/" target="_blank"> Hot to the Touch</a> includes a new story of mine: <i><b>Meet My Husband</b></i> 😍😍😍<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>This new collection from well-known editor Cole Riley propels readers
into the heads, hearts, and libidos of lovers committed to the Poly
Life, open relationships, open communication, and open bedroom doors.
With stories from those just beginning to explore the poly lifestyle to
those that have years of experience pleasing multiple partners—in or out
of the bedroom, together or separately—this collection will arouse your
senses and make you yearn for your own menagerie of sexual partners,
lovers, and so much more.</i></blockquote>
<a href="https://www.publishersweekly.com/978-1-62778-297-5" target="_blank"> Publisher's Weekly </a>reviews it:<br />
<br />
<b>"Janine Ashbless’s playful “Meet My Husband” and Sommen Madsen’s
high-tension “Him” showcase the power of combining the erotic energy of
three different lovers. ...Though not a definitive collection of poly erotica, this anthology will
appeal to those who want well-crafted, cheating-free stories that
explore sexuality beyond the couple."</b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<u>Table of Contents</u><br />
<br />
<i>Meet My Husband</i> - Janine Ashbless<br />
<i>Ghost Swinger</i> - Amanda Earl<br />
<i>The Dinner Party</i> - Remittance Girl<br />
<i>Because of Bingo</i> - Rebecca M. Kyle<br />
<i>Bob & Carol & Ted</i> (But Not Alice) - M. Christian<br />
<i>Homecoming </i>- Teresa Noelle Roberts<br />
<i>Snakefruit </i>- Anne Tourney<br />
<i>Him </i>- Sommer Madsen<br />
<i>Speed Play </i>- Abigail Ekue<br />
<i>Between Two Lovers</i> - Thomas S.. Roche<br />
<i>Reminder </i>- Jeremy Edwards<br />
<i>Sleeper Ca</i>r - Max Lagos<br />
<i>The Benefit of the Doubt</i> - Cole Riley<br />
<i>One Last Fling</i> - Kristina Wright</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
You can buy <i><b>Hot to the Touch</b></i> at:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Hot-to-the-Touch/Cole-Riley/9781627782975" target="_blank">Simon and Schuster </a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Hot-Touch-Views-Polyamory-Lifestyle-ebook/dp/B081QS4H47/" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> :: <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hot-Touch-Polyamory-Lifestyle-Anthology-ebook/dp/B081QS4H47" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> <br />
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-to-the-touch-cole-riley/1134703837" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a><br />
<a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-to-the-touch-13" target="_blank">Kobo</a><br />
<br />
Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-84559374103033553822020-04-06T15:51:00.000+01:002020-04-06T15:51:09.432+01:00Blue Monday: isolation special<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lDvrgbgxYPw/XoswUVg5BOI/AAAAAAAASko/mGcEhCjfOisdh4y5O-h7h6gqRpgeT-aOwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/pulse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="1600" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lDvrgbgxYPw/XoswUVg5BOI/AAAAAAAASko/mGcEhCjfOisdh4y5O-h7h6gqRpgeT-aOwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/pulse.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping my finger on the pulse, LOL</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<i>Who says my erotica isn't contemporary and relevant for today's world? </i>😁<i> I've been fingering my way through my files, ahem, to find the stories that speak to this international pandemic.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i></i><br />
<hr /><i><br />
</i> <i>The obvious one is </i><b>Quarantine</b>, <i>which you can find <b>in full and for free</b> if you hop over to <a href="http://www.janineashbless.com/" target="_blank">my Website</a> and click on FREE READS in the top bar. It's set in an Ebola research facility and it's about two people going stir-crazy under lockdown:</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6kR8N-cFTk/XosyAK1PWTI/AAAAAAAASk0/1tc3N_jUtYQ4OcWbWz5cXfvmwVaDlUsBgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Quarantine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="203" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p6kR8N-cFTk/XosyAK1PWTI/AAAAAAAASk0/1tc3N_jUtYQ4OcWbWz5cXfvmwVaDlUsBgCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Quarantine.jpg" width="281" /></a></div><br />
'This bloody sucks!' Lee moaned.<br />
<br />
'Well whose fault is that?' she yelled, surprising even herself with her vehemence.<br />
<br />
'Not mine!'<br />
<br />
'Really? Who are you blaming?'<br />
<br />
'You're the one who bent -' Lee stopped mid-sentence.<br />
<br />
'What?' Tessa sat up and dropped her voice to a hiss. 'What did I do?' She saw Lee's face work as conflicting impulses fought for control.<br />
<br />
'You were bent over.' The words seemed to come from a constricted throat. 'Your ... arse...' He made a generously curved shape in the air with his hands to make up for his incoherence. 'I walked into the bench.'<br />
<br />
She was gobsmacked. 'You dropped solvent everywhere because you were looking at my butt? <i>In a HAZMAT suit?</i>'<br />
<hr /><br />
<b>Bolt Hole</b>, <i> which appears in my collection</i> <b>Fierce Enchantments,</b><i><b> </b>is also about two uneasy companions hiding away in a confined space, only this time it's during a zombie outbreak:</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jhiim7tThZU/XoszFpBgxlI/AAAAAAAASk8/IkC0rI4s138lLCNDoyPhp7ugBWDEUTibACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/fierceenchantments2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jhiim7tThZU/XoszFpBgxlI/AAAAAAAASk8/IkC0rI4s138lLCNDoyPhp7ugBWDEUTibACLcBGAsYHQ/s400/fierceenchantments2017.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><i><br />
</i> “What’re you doing out here on your own?” he asks.<br />
<br />
“I wasn’t alone,” she rasps.<br />
<br />
The water down her cleavage just feels like more sweat now. She can’t bear it. She’s got to lean back against the metal just to stay upright. Discarding the spade against the wall beside her, she wrenches off her other glove, then pulls down the zipper of her suit from collar to navel. The vest-top beneath is absolutely sodden with sweat, and plastered to her torso. She sees the pale flash of the man’s widening eyes, and she knows her chest is heaving as she pants for breath, but it doesn’t seem important. All she wants is to get out of these leathers.<br />
<br />
She wriggles out of her bags and belts, frantic to shed the weight. The front zipper of her biker all-in-one goes all the way down to her crotch, making it easier to peel off the arms and shoulders and drop the top half of the suit to hang from her hips. That helps. She sets her shoulders back against the corrugated metal, praying for cool, but it’s warmer than she is. She can see the man staring. His torso is completely bare, and she envies that. She can feel the moisture flooding between her burning thighs. Her mind is a churning whirl.<br />
<br />
She wants to be naked. She wants to be cold. She wants water and a breeze.<br />
<br />
He’s gone very still. Outside, the living dead moan with frustration.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Fierce-Enchantments-Janine-Ashbless-ebook/dp/B077WNFVRK">Amazon US</a> : <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Fierce-Enchantments-Janine-Ashbless-ebook/dp/B077WNFVRK">Amazon UK </a><br />
<a href="https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/fierce-enchantments-3">Kobo </a><br />
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fierce-enchantments-janine-ashbless/1118881624" target="_blank">Barnes and Noble</a><br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
<b>Lust in the Dust</b> <i>is of course full of apocalyptic crisis sex. My own story, </i><b>The Basque of the Red Death</b>, <i>is a pastiche of Poe's famous plague tale:</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YW9oUaTxpDk/Xos8KrkU0fI/AAAAAAAASlI/6GVAzbTXNEY-m6EZNgZJS_0Q5aVmu0qPQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/lustinthedust.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1000" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YW9oUaTxpDk/Xos8KrkU0fI/AAAAAAAASlI/6GVAzbTXNEY-m6EZNgZJS_0Q5aVmu0qPQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/lustinthedust.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br />
On Midsummer Eve, six months after we'd sealed ourselves within the castellated walls, Prince Prospero threw his wildest party yet; a masquerade ball themed upon pagan Arcadia. A suite of seven chambers in the heights of the abbey was opened and prepared; a cloister in coloured glass wherein the old abbot had been inclined to contemplate the Seven Ages of Man, or the Seven Deadly Sins, or perhaps the Seven Sorrows of Our Lady, but now turned to more worldly and hedonistic use.<br />
<br />
The Easternmost room, lit in blue, was dedicated to the pleasures of the tongue; Amuse-bouche, the nobles called such things. The centrepiece was a plump and naked maiden, lying supine amid platters of tiny pastries and sweetmeats, covered from head to rosy toes with creamed vegetables piped into intricate patterns, and bejewelled with pomegranate pips and sugared almonds — like a living, breathing, reliquary. Officially she represented Gaia, Mother Earth. I happened to know that Helga had volunteered for this role because she preferred it to running up and down the abbey's stairs.<br />
<br />
The Purple Room centred upon a veiled trio of Fates who stood with arms linked, facing outward to the walls of the chamber. They were veiled and draped in prodigious swathes of plum-hued silk, so that not only their features but their very forms were impossible to make out — all but their breasts, which were uncovered and glistened with oil, the nipples stained dark with blackberry juice; somehow more naked for the being the only body-parts visible. The unspoken invitation to touch those orbs, to grope and stroke and play, was all but irresistible.<br />
<br />
In the Green Room an ivy-wigged and leaf-painted dryad sat in a sling at head-height, her thighs spread by two loops. On a table beneath was a bowl heaped with brandy-soaked fruit, which the wanton would receive with a giggle into the slippery clench of her sex before squeezing it back out of that cornucopia, now subtly flavored.<br />
<br />
The Orange Room was staffed by Cynocephali; naked girls masked with the heads of dogs and leashed like animals too. They served strictly on their knees.<br />
<br />
The White Room took this theme further; the seven Pleiades here were bound firmly to racks and upended over tables, thighs spread by bars and wrists hoisted over their heads; their virginal silk dresses artfully inadequate to the task of shielding their maidenly modesty.<br />
<br />
In the Violet Room flagellation was on offer; the three mistresses there were dressed as avenging Furies and strutted about with horse-whips in hand, taking full advantage of their license to inflict punishment.<br />
<br />
But the Red Chamber, the one at the end — the one with that terrible black-draped clock — stood empty and unused. Whatever debauchery it was intended to host, no one had yet plucked up the courage.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://smarturl.it/LitDKindle" target="_blank">Amazon smartlink</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://books.apple.com/book/lust-in-the-dust/id1462122711" target="_blank">iBooks</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Janine_Ashbless_Lust_in_the_Dust?id=bC2QDwAAQBAJ" target="_blank">Google Play </a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/lust-in-the-dust-2" target="_blank">Kobo</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lust-in-the-dust-janine-ashbless/1131079641?ean=9781910908402" target="_blank">Barnes and Noble</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><hr /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KnPb5o0JMdE/Xos_PC0F-fI/AAAAAAAASlU/0POghOX3nQk74fu9ki1WZEtLenqvIcohQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Dark%2BVoices.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="621" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KnPb5o0JMdE/Xos_PC0F-fI/AAAAAAAASlU/0POghOX3nQk74fu9ki1WZEtLenqvIcohQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Dark%2BVoices.jpg" width="258" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Oh - and if you are up for a horror (not erotica) tale of necrophilia, dark gods and mental collapse set during the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1919, you can always try my story</i> <b>Nine Portraits of Empress Danrin</b>, <i>found in</i> <b>Dark Voices</b>:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i> </i> </div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dark-Voices-Valley-Charity-Anthology-ebook/dp/B0813KSBPN/" target="_blank">Kindle format</a> <i>and</i><a href="https://smile.amazon.co.uk/Dark-Voices-Valley-Charity-Anthology/dp/0998748994/" target="_blank"><i> </i>Paperback</a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-29374236626344143942020-03-30T14:37:00.002+01:002020-03-30T14:37:14.046+01:00Blue Monday: Lea Bronsen guests<i>Mondays are the days I post a sexy excerpt for your entertainment!</i><br />
<i><br />
Today's guest is </i><a href="http://leabronsen.com/" target="_blank">Lea Bronsen </a><i>with her dark erotic romance </i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084KPTQT3" target="_blank">Shade Addiction</a><i>. Can I just say how much I love that tagline? </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ESSBE2ITdss/XoHOgQrz_8I/AAAAAAAASkc/RCKmr3zav-QvC7_g-wHkEv18rBmyFp2awCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Shade%2BAddiction_ebook%2Bcover%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1053" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ESSBE2ITdss/XoHOgQrz_8I/AAAAAAAASkc/RCKmr3zav-QvC7_g-wHkEv18rBmyFp2awCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Shade%2BAddiction_ebook%2Bcover%2B2.jpg" width="419" /></a></div>
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<i>Ex-boxer Mike Logan struggles to put a brutal past behind and make ends meet as a bus driver. When a young runaway settles for an all-night ride, he seizes the chance to do a good deed—get her home safely. But first, they’ll drive around and talk.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>What he doesn’t anticipate is that this broken night angel is also a sexy little minx needing a lot more…and not just the gentle kind.</i><br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
Hours later, I carry my lunch tray through the employee restaurant at the bus terminal to my usual table in a corner. I’ll eat alone. Being the broody kind doesn’t get me many friends, but I don’t care. My struggle is simple: Make it another day, then another, putting more time between me and the tragic event from all those years ago until one day, I’m freed of it all, six feet under.<br />
<br />
The door opens, and there she stands, wild and beautiful, with a rainfall of black-purple curls over a red leather jacket, fishnet stockings, shiny high-heels, and a mini skirt.<br />
<br />
Fuck me!<br />
<br />
She searches the room, and we connect. My heart jumps to the goddamn roof, before questions assault me. How did she get in the secure building? Why did she go through that trouble to find me? And what does she think she’ll get from seeing me again?<br />
<br />
My panicky attempt to reason doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see her. I am. I’m heating all over, every hair on my body standing.<br />
<br />
She walks toward me, seemingly uncaring that a dozen of my male colleagues glance from her to me until she plumps into a seat in front of me and steals my plate.<br />
<br />
Dumbstruck, I sit and watch as she scarfs down mouthfuls of meatballs, salad, and bread. I should ask her responsible stuff like how things are going at home, whether she made up with her parents, but all I can do is lean over the table and whisper, “What do you want?”<br />
<br />
She wipes her mouth and flashes me a smile. “You.”<br />
<br />
That sends a dart of heat to my groin, but I have to keep my cool. Can’t let her get to my head. She’s way out of my league, for fuck’s sake. I don’t want to hurt her, but best stop anything from growing in her little head before it’s too late. “It can’t happen,” I say, leaning back and crossing my arms. “You’re too young for me, and I’m definitely not your kinda guy.”<br />
<br />
“Well, then I’ll just get what I need from my ‘friends’.” She makes quote marks in the air and rolls her tongue on her lips. “They know how to treat a girl, see.”<br />
<br />
Oh, no, can’t let <i>that </i>happen! Anger shoots to my brain. I can’t stand the idea of her messing with other men, of someone other than me drooling on her. As crazy as it sounds, a voice inside me screams, <i>“You’re mine!” </i><br />
<br />
Without a word, I slip out of my seat, trying not to overturn the table between us, take her hand, and lead her through the restaurant. Heads turn, but I ignore them.<br />
<br />
Out the door, in an empty hall, I press her against the wall, chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach, and hold her hands above her head. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re playing with.”<br />
<br />
“I’ve missed you.” She squirms in my tight grip and rubs against my cock so it rises to attention. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”<br />
<br />
“You’re insane,” I growl. “Out of your fucking mind.”<br />
<br />
Staring at my lips, she flutters her black eyelashes once, slowly, lazily. “No, Mike. It’s true. I haven’t been able to function without you. I need you. I need a strong man like you, a real man. I told you, the other night.”<br />
<br />
My inner voice yells, <i>“But you don’t know me!”</i> yet her words make me sway, my limbs feel like Jell-O, and my resolution goes down the drain. I should insist that she leave and stay the fuck away from me, but…I can’t. I’ve missed her too, and God knows I need a hot chick like her. I’m so damn tired of being alone and feeling miserable. If she can bring a little joy into my life, why would that be such a bad thing? We’re two consenting adults.<br />
<br />
“Fuck,” I growl. “We can’t do this here.” I release her, grab her hand, and bring her to a small restroom down the hall. She trots happily by my side, wiggling her sweet ass. Part of me says I can’t wait to get inside her, the other warns she’s only nineteen. Then again, she’s been with several guys, so she’s no newbie in the business.<br />
<br />
After locking the door, I plaster her to a wall again, in a corner, this time lifting one of her legs and pressing my erection between her thighs. She throws her head back, spreading that stunning purple hair on the wall like a peacock displaying its feathers, and moans.<br />
<br />
Sounds like she likes it rough.<br />
<br />
Yeah?<br />
<br />
If that’s what she wants, that’s what she’ll get, and rather from me than from an insecure, pimple-faced kid using the opportunity to hurt her just so he can feel like a man. I can do her hard, but in a controlled way. “You got a condom?”<br />
<br />
“No.”<br />
<br />
“Shit.”<br />
<br />
Well, one way or the other… I rub my stiffness against her pussy, back and forth, in a rhythmic and insistent manner. With my free hand beneath her shirt, I cup her breast that fills my hand so nicely and stroke the full, oh-so-soft flesh before squeezing its firm bud.<br />
<br />
Lips parted, breaths heavy, she mews while rocking against me, meeting my rhythm stroke for stroke. Sweat makes her blushing face shine.<br />
<br />
I move my hand to her shoulder bone, rubbing on my way up to her throat and leaving red marks on her skin. Her breathing comes out ragged, needy. Reaching her face, I insert a finger between her teeth, and she sucks on it—then bites.<br />
<br />
“Ouch.” The sting makes me even harder.<br />
<br />
“Kiss me,” she begs. “I want to feel you everywhere.”<br />
<br />
Fuck, she’s hot. I oblige, covering her mouth with mine and driving my tongue inside to conquer and devour hers. She squeals, her rocking against me more insistent. I move both my hands to her butt and lift her in the air so I can increase my rhythm and rub every single inch of her pussy, clit and all, back and forth.<br />
<br />
There, she arches her back like a bow and jerks in my hold.<br />
<br />
<i>Good girl. </i><br />
<br />
She screams, but I swallow the sound, my excitement at such an unbearable level, it takes all my willpower and focus not to shoot in my pants.<br />
<br />
<hr />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Available from</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/1/goog_421106658"><br /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B084KPTQT3" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> / <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B084KPTQT3" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> / <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shade-addiction-lea-bronsen/1136392193" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> / <a href="https://www.kobo.com/no/nb/ebook/shade-addiction-1" target="_blank">Kobo </a>/ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1498236442" target="_blank">iBooks </a>/ <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1003744" target="_blank">Smashwords</a></div>
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Put the book on your to-read shelf on <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39939673-shade-addiction" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Lea Bronsen</b> <br />
<br />
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<i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n5WEJxnaCz0/XbYV90tF5TI/AAAAAAAASg0/o7VCqTx8iRkevrrsElC8uEXCvbsObIxTwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Lea%2BBronsen.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> <img border="0" data-original-height="694" data-original-width="694" height="199" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-n5WEJxnaCz0/XbYV90tF5TI/AAAAAAAASg0/o7VCqTx8iRkevrrsElC8uEXCvbsObIxTwCLcBGAsYHQ/s200/Lea%2BBronsen.jpg" width="200" /></a></i></div>
<i>likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same</i><i> intensity. After a deep dive on the unforgiving world of gangsters with her debut novel </i><b>Wild Hearted,</b><i> she divides her writing time between romantic suspenses, dark erotic romances, and crime thrillers.</i><br />
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<i><br />
</i> <i>Meet Lea Bronsen on</i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://leabronsen.com/" target="_blank">Website </a>/ <a href="https://leabronsen.com/blog/" target="_blank">Blog </a>/ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/wildhearted.author" target="_blank">Facebook </a>/ <a href="https://twitter.com/LeaBronsen" target="_blank">Twitter </a>/ <a href="https://www.instagram.com/leabronsen/" target="_blank">Instagram </a>/ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6966248.Lea_Bronsen" target="_blank">Goodreads </a>/ <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lea-Bronsen/e/B00BTFT8KS/" target="_blank">Amazon </a>/ <a href="https://no.pinterest.com/leabronsen/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></div>
Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-69173508669562882782020-03-24T17:25:00.001+00:002020-03-24T17:25:05.028+00:00Lockdown post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tUR3KP4kwBg/Xno0VF0ezPI/AAAAAAAASj8/x1anRLHml4cxMdJJ53ZVDPkQe1HJV7WdQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Plague.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="547" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tUR3KP4kwBg/Xno0VF0ezPI/AAAAAAAASj8/x1anRLHml4cxMdJJ53ZVDPkQe1HJV7WdQCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Plague.jpg" width="476" /></a></div><br />
Last weekend I should have been in the 19th century.<br />
<br />
We were supposed to be running a LARP weekend for 40 people. We'd spent over a year (and numerous crew meetings) writing and honing the plot, making props, sewing and buying costume. It was so full-on I almost totally neglected my writing. It was to centre round a <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/victorian-party-people-unrolled-mummies-for-fun" target="_blank">Victorian mummy-upwrapping</a>, something Mr Ashbless and I have been trying to bring off for years.<br />
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(Yes, we do have a mummy. I wrapped it myself!)<br />
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/pVDo2tsJeXA" width="560"></iframe><br />
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<br />
The last thing we could have imagined was that we'd have it all trashed by a worldwide pandemic. In a matter of days it went from "There's a virus on the horizon" to "People are officially requested not to gather in large numbers" to "All schools are closed." We called everything off, but luckily we arranged with the site to bump our event into 2021.<br />
<br />
Now here's the awkward bit. I'm in a risk group because I have asthma that can go from 0 to 100 when I get any respiratory infection. I've no particular fear of death* and wasn't worried about the Coronavirus anymore than I worry about getting flu every winter ("It'd be fairly likely to kill me. No point worrying."). I figure I've had an excellent life and not really left anything undone that I wanted to do.<br />
<br />
Now, goddamnit,<i> I have to survive this plague</i>. The Show Must Go On!<br />
<br />
Pah.<br />
<br />
I'm in the best possible position, to be fair. We'd stocked up for Brexit and I'd just done the food shop for our Victorian weekend (which means there's a hell of a lot of carrot soup in my near future). My SOs are both here and normally work from home anyway. We're watching <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Altered_Carbon_(TV_series)" target="_blank">Altered Carbon</a> and playing SO MUCH <a href="https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2017/04/gloomhaven-review-2017s-biggest-board-game-is-astoundingly-good/" target="_blank">Gloomhaven</a>, a game so long and complex it could have been invented for siege conditions:<br />
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So like Prince Prospero during the Red Death we are partying on. (It ended so well for him, heh? 😛)<br />
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It's weird finding ourselves apparently living in a SF novel, or a horror movie. We truly live in Interesting Times and it's all a salutary reminder how thin the ice of our comfortable civilisation truly is. And how much we rely on the tolerance, help and benevolence of those around us. <a href="https://janineashbless.blogspot.com/2019/07/its-here.html" target="_blank">My foreword</a> to <i><b>Lust in the Dust </b></i>is looking too bloody prescient.<br />
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Stay safe everyone! And stay kind! <br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
* Mr Ashbless is of a different opinion regarding my mortality and has been working his ass off to keep me from infection.Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-86406627958241404522020-02-24T18:58:00.002+00:002020-02-24T18:58:45.005+00:00Woman in Horror<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y-SpOWuZ7LE/XlQSc5mkljI/AAAAAAAASjU/11M3BRNzLVk-v2UxarlRQ_Ib4B27o-oqwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/LZ6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y-SpOWuZ7LE/XlQSc5mkljI/AAAAAAAASjU/11M3BRNzLVk-v2UxarlRQ_Ib4B27o-oqwCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/LZ6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Art from <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Libidinous-Zombie-Erotic-Horror-Collection-ebook/dp/B0178YXSGI/" target="_blank">Libidinous Zombie</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I suppose I ought to address the change in my social media presence recently.<br />
<br />
A couple of weeks ago I changed my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless" target="_blank">Facebook handle</a> to my other (real life) name, <b>Keris McDonald</b>. This is because this year I'm stepping back from erotica. My <a href="https://www.facebook.com/authorJanineAshbless/" target="_blank">Facebook Author Page</a> remains active and unchanged under the Janine Ashbless handle but things are a bit quieter here on my blog, as you may have noticed.<br />
<br />
I have been given a WONDERFUL opportunity to write for my favourite tabletop games company, <a href="https://www.chaosium.com/" target="_blank">Chaosium Inc.</a>, as I have been drafted in to write part of the games manual for the upcoming <a href="https://www.enworld.org/threads/rivers-of-london-and-chaosium-%E2%80%93-talking-to-michael-obrien.669296/" target="_blank">Rivers of London roleplaying game</a>. I can't tell you how lucky, proud and honoured I feel!<br />
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The <i><b>Rivers of London</b></i> series by Ben Aaronovitch is contemporary dark fantasy, not explicit horror, but it seemed slightly simpler not to be waffling on about it under my erotica name online. Of course, the changeover was a bit of a shock to all those who have only ever known me as Janine! Oddly, that includes plenty of horror LARPers ... But honestly, I answer to both and don't care what folks call me.<br />
<br />To celebrate my Coming Out I've got a post on the similarities between the horror and erotica genres over at <a href="https://simon-bestwick.blogspot.com/2020/02/women-in-horror-keris-mcdonald.html" target="_blank">Simon Bestwick's blog.</a> Simon has been a longtime enthusiast of my stories and a great convention friend. He is nagging me into getting a collection of my horror stuff in print ... more news on that later this year, hopefully!<br />
<br />
I'll be continuing to post my erotica news here - I do have the odd smutty story coming out this year - never fear 😉Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-53539271945709422442020-02-03T14:55:00.001+00:002020-02-03T14:55:37.909+00:00Blue Monday: Zak Jane Keir guests<i>Mondays are the days I post a sexy excerpt for your entertainment!</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>Head of the pack for 2020 comes</i> <b>Zak Jane Keir</b> <i>and her new collection</i> <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Eroticize-This-Stories-Troubled-Times-ebook/dp/B0845VR9KJ" target="_blank">Eroticise This!</a><br />
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<i>When the storm clouds are gathering…</i><br />
<i>When nothing is quite what it seems…</i><br />
<i>When you don’t know who to trust…</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>Will love or hope or kinky sex save the day? Can we find that spark of erotic joy, no matter how frightening the circumstances? Do we dare to hope for something better?</i><br />
<i>Six sexy short stories about the mess we’re all in, and what might happen in the very near future.</i><br />
<br />
<b>Eroticise This - sexy stories for troubled times</b><i> began as a manifestation of Rule 35 in action. (Rule 35 is the corollary to Rule 34, which states that, if something exists, there’s porn about it. Rule 35 insists that, if you can think of it and there is no porn about it, it becomes your job to produce some.)</i><br />
<i>It’s a collection of six short stories, the first three of which are directly inspired by some of the political events in the second half of 2019. The second part of the book contains speculative sex stories which are set in potential near futures.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Zak Jane Keir would like to reassure readers that the closing story offers a note of optimism.</i><br />
<hr /><br />
<i>BEFORE RISING - an excerpt</i><br />
<br />
‘How do we… Where do we go?’ she asked, and then gave herself a mental shake. She was still Sammy, still Mistress, she was in charge here, and Scrap was facilitating her pleasure. ‘I’d like some dungeon time; arrange it,’ she said, and Scrap bowed his head for a moment. He was wearing black rubber shorts, the pair she liked to see him in. And now they were in a hallway that looked very much like the one which ran between the dancefloor and the playspace at Club Mischief. She was carrying a whip; Nicola’s rose-gold whip. She didn’t want to be carrying it; she flexed her hand and found the whip she now held was made of black and violet leather, smooth and supple to the touch. It was very like the one she had seen and coveted at the last Kinkmarket, but had been unable to afford.<br />
<br />
The playspace wasn’t particularly crowded, though Sammy was aware of the usual background sounds of conversation and faint music from the main room. The big A-frame was free, and she led Scrap over to it and cuffed him into place. His skin was warm to the touch and she rested her cheek against his shoulder blade for a moment. Every sensory stimulus was real: Scrap’s body; her feet in heeled boots, even the familiar scent of Club Mischief, with its mixture of incense, beer, bodies and leather. Her sub gave a little anticipatory purr.<br />
<br />
She had a flogger, the red suede one with the thick, soft tails. She started to wield it lightly against his shoulders, setting up a steady rhythm. He writhed in his restraints, and she hit a little harder. She saw his back reddening; she switched to the heavier black flogger and turned her attention to his arse, which was now bared for her. She beat him for quite some time, moving on from floggers to paddles and finally to a cane. The thought of the black and violet whip seemed to cross her mind occasionally, but she didn’t use it at any point.<br />
<br />
He was on his back now, spread out in front of her, his cock fully erect and the tip of it glistening with moisture. She licked and bit at his nipples, tasting salt, feeling the flesh yield to her teeth. She mounted him and he was hard and hot and ready. Her pussy muscles clenched on his erect shaft and they ground against one another. It was good, so intense, so perfect; the best fuck they had ever had.<br />
<br />
‘Please remove the headset when you are ready. Please remove the headset when you are ready. You may experience temporary disorientation on removing the headset. Please do not exit the pod until disorientation has passed.’<br />
<br />
Sammy heard herself whimper in protest at the nagging, mechanical voice. Her mouth felt horribly dry and there was a slippery dampness between her legs. Her hands shook slightly as she pushed the headset up and away and sat up, blinking in the warm, yellowish light. It was over.<br />
<hr /><i>Buy </i><b>Eroticise This</b> <i>at: </i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C3DTXZa237c/XjgySqcDjII/AAAAAAAASjE/QbEjzniYzAc0mpLWkDN5XeR_xdjBb9uAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Zak.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="576" data-original-width="576" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C3DTXZa237c/XjgySqcDjII/AAAAAAAASjE/QbEjzniYzAc0mpLWkDN5XeR_xdjBb9uAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s200/Zak.jpg" width="200" /></a></i></div><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Eroticize-This-Stories-Troubled-Times-ebook/dp/B0845VR9KJ" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0845VR9KJ/" target="_blank">Amazon US</a><br />
<br />
<b>Zak Jane Keir</b> <i>is a veteran writer, with over 30 years of telling stories about sex and kink and ‘a little bit of politics’ behind her. She has worked on various adult magazines as well as publishing several novels and quantities of short fiction. She has recently embarked on compiling a history of the UK fetish scene, work on which was interrupted by a compelling need to write something sexy about the current political climate…</i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/zak.j.keir" target="_blank">Facebook </a><i></i><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/decadentmadamez?lang=en" target="_blank">Twitter</a>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-85382587183213895752020-01-02T19:49:00.000+00:002020-01-02T19:49:01.364+00:00Happy New Year!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-82527722770010684642019-12-16T09:58:00.003+00:002019-12-16T09:58:42.405+00:00Blue Monday: Jennifer Denys guests<i>Mondays are days on which I post sexy excerpts for your entertainment!</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>Today's guest is </i><a href="http://jennifer-denys.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Jennifer Denys</a><i>, with a new Naughty Xmas story</i>: <a href="https://luminositypublishing.com/book/naughty-christmas-present/" target="_blank">Naughty Christmas Present</a><br />
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<i>This is a tale of unrequited love . . . but will it be requited by the end? Of course, it will — this is a Christmas story after all!</i><br />
<br />
<i>The question is, how will Gren, a troll and bartender at Pogue’s Bar, prove to the beautiful blonde Siren, Ligia, that he is the man for her? When unexpected circumstances bring them together, he jumps at the chance to give her a special Christmas present and show her that he is everything she needs. Will his present — a session in his personal S&M playroom – be enough? Or could her Siren song cause his death in the process?</i><br />
<hr />
<br />
The Siren turned her body to lounge back on her elbows, spreading her knees wide in invitation, grinning at him. She lifted one foot to rub it over his stomach, pushing her breasts forward invitingly, while running her tongue over her lips, trying all her seductive tricks.<br />
<br />
<i>Little minx.</i><br />
<br />
He swatted her leg way. Gren was sorely tempted but the gleam in her eye gave him pause. He knew she was trying to get him to ejaculate but he wasn’t going to give in to her that easily. Surging forward he dropped the flogger to the floor and with one thick forearm, he pressed both of her legs against her stomach, pushing her back on the bench with a thud, and delivered several swift hard smacks to her bottom with his other hand.<br />
<br />
“Ouch! Gren!” She punched ineffectually against his arm.<br />
<br />
“Serves you right.” He stared her down as she struggled to get up. “Stay still. I haven’t finished.”<br />
<br />
The Siren subsided. Her expression going from hurt to bemused. She stroked his arm, running her fingers over his bulging biceps. “Okay, lover. What are you going to do next?” Her voice was silky smooth.<br />
<br />
He smiled inwardly at her attempt to charm him into doing things her way.<br />
<br />
<i>Not a chance, sweetheart.</i><br />
<br />
The troll followed up his spanking by rubbing her hot butt, soothing her while he contemplated his next move. “This is a very tempting position. There are several things I could do while you are on your back like this.”<br />
<br />
She guffawed. “I know what I’d do.” She then reached down with her right hand feeling her way until she encircled his cock.<br />
<br />
Gren gave her a mock frown. “I could spank you some more. Would you like that?”<br />
<br />
Her huff made him smile but the dilation of her eyes told him something different. She let go of him, although her hand caressed his butt instead. “So, tell me what you had in mind.”<br />
<br />
“I could get the flogger to finish what I started earlier if you don’t put your hands on the bars.”<br />
<br />
The rise of her eyebrow was a challenge and he couldn’t resist chuckling. But at least she did as he commanded.<br />
<br />
“Or I could do this.” Ligia’s eyes opened wide as his thumb strayed up to her slit, pressing into her labia. He hadn’t intended doing that, wanting to keep the play to some fun BDSM, but the smell of her arousal was so powerful he just had to touch her.<br />
<br />
Immediately his cock shot up, his seed threatening to spill and he clenched his jaw, holding himself rigid. Meanwhile, the woman beneath him squealed, lifting her butt up off the bench. She was pressed back down by Gren’s strong arm as her fingers clasped over his bulging muscles, nails digging in.<br />
<br />
She shuddered. “Holy Ghost. Don’t stop.”<br />
<br />
Gren grinned. He had no intention of ceasing, not yet. This was a heaven-sent opportunity to touch her as he’d always dreamt and he moved his thumb upward to rub her engorged clit.<br />
<hr />
<i>Buy </i><b>Naughty Christmas Present</b> <i>at</i>:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Naughty-Christmas-Present-Xmas-Book-ebook/dp/B081MYD6GC/" target="_blank">Amazon US </a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Naughty-Christmas-Present-Xmas-Book-ebook/dp/B081MYD6GC/" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a> <br />
<a href="https://www.bookstrand.com/book/naughty-christmas-present-mf-mfm" target="_blank">Bookstrand </a> <br />
<a href="https://luminositypublishing.com/book/naughty-christmas-present/" target="_blank">Luminosity Publishing</a> <br />
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/naughty-christmas-present-jennifer-denys/1134981443" target="_blank">Barnes and Noble</a><br />
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<br />
<b>Jennifer Denys</b> <i>lives in a lovely historical city. Other than writing, her interests include reading (naturally! She always has at least one book on the go if not one by her bed, one by the bathroom, and one in the lounge); all things historical including genealogy which she has done for many many years; watching films (particularly sci-fi); gardening; jigsaws; and walking. She lives with her pet rabbit who is thoroughly spoilt. Jennifer says she wants to come back as her own rabbit in the next life - unfortunately that would mean she still needs to be alive herself. Maybe there is a time travel story there ......</i><br />
<br />
<i>Keep up to date with Jennifer via her</i> <a href="http://jennifer-denys.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">blog</a>:<br />
<br />Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-7450466063119582962019-12-10T12:26:00.002+00:002019-12-10T12:26:25.326+00:00Blue Monday(ish): Kay Jaybee guests<i>Running a little late due to my holiday, here's the skinny on a BDSM release by </i><a href="http://www.kayjaybee.me.uk/" target="_blank">Kay Jaybee</a>:<br />
<br />
<i>Kay is delighted to announce the re-release of one of her most popular erotic anthologies. </i><br />
<i>Re-edited and re-covered, </i><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/985492" target="_blank">Yes Ma’am</a> <i>is back with a vengeance from 22nd November!</i><br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Could you write your wildest fantasies on your best friend’s boyfriend, or sell your sexual soul to a woman in black? </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>Find out how far army cadet, Luke Porter, will go to improve his standing within his regiment, and discover the consequences of losing your temper on London’s Underground in this collection of wrist binding, whip wielding, butt spanking tales of female domination. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <b>Yes Ma'am</b><i> contains six straight and bisexual encounters of the S&M nature. All six stories deliver a different take on the FemDom experience.</i><br />
<hr />
<br />
<i>Here’s an extract from <b>“Don’t You Emma”:</b></i><br />
<br />
... Lee sat back in the leather armchair. She’d told him that all he had to do to get a damn good fucking was to stay in the chair until she decreed otherwise.<br />
<br />
As he watched Daisy move around the living room Lee thought, not for the first time, how inappropriately named she was. The name suggested someone meek, gentle and childlike. It didn’t conjure the image of a tall, fit, fake blonde, who could get her rocks off simply by beating your arse until it glowed purple.<br />
<br />
She was clearing the space in front of him. The coffee table had already been repositioned to the side of the chair, and the newspapers that usually lay all over the place had been stacked up. All the cushions he’d thrown off the sofa had been neatly placed back where they belonged.<br />
<br />
‘You are going to reward me for watching you clean up?’ Lee was amused by this uncharacteristic fit of tidying.<br />
<br />
Daisy gave him a stare that would have chilled a lesser man to the bone, but Lee had known her for a long time and all it did was increase the arousal of her promise to give him a good seeing-to.<br />
<br />
‘I don’t believe I said you could talk to me while you were waiting.’<br />
<br />
‘Come off it, Daisy. You’re only doing the chores.’<br />
<br />
Ignoring him, his partner brushed her hands together, and glancing at the increased floor space across the now uncluttered pale green carpet, left the room.<br />
<br />
Lee’s imagination had already moved on to what reward he was going to get for being a good, patient boy. He wondered if he’d have to endure a spanking, or if she’d bind or gag him. Flickers of tense longing played in his stomach and stirred his groin.<br />
<br />
Glancing at the clock on the corner of the bookcase, he listened to the quiet tick. It seemed to fill the room as he waited with growing impatience for Daisy’s return. He assumed she was fetching her sex toys, or perhaps changing into something less comfortable. It was with a sense of a surprise and unease, however, that Lee heard the front door open and the sound of muffled voices.<br />
<br />
Despite only wearing a red T-shirt and some lightweight black combats, Lee suddenly felt rather hot as Daisy re-entered the lounge with company.<br />
<br />
The warning glint in Daisy’s eyes confirmed that Lee should stay precisely where he was, his legs outstretched before him, his arms resting on the chair’s soft padded arms, his mouth shut. <br />
<br />
His dark brown eyes moved from his lover to the girl with her. About 25 years old perhaps, with long ginger hair that hung in two perfectly tied pigtails. Slim, but with enough of a curve to catch the eye, her green gaze had a keen, eager to please gleam, that just hinted at mischief. <br />
<br />
Lee swallowed very carefully. Daisy hadn’t, had she? Not really? He opened his mouth to ask her if he was right, or if his imagination was running away with him. No sound came out though. He didn’t want to risk her saying he was mistaken and ruining the fantasy that roller-coasted around his lust driven head.<br />
<br />
The girl, without taking off either the boots or the long winter coat she wore, even though it was a warm summer’s day, answered his unspoken question, as she lowered her head and knelt on the cleared floor before Daisy; her mistress.<br />
<br />
‘Oh my!’ His words were barely audible. Daisy either hadn’t heard them or had dismissed them as unimportant. Lee concentrated very hard on breathing; forcing himself to sit still and not lean forward in the chair....<br />
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<br />
<i>Buy Links:</i><br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/2OLCU0Y" target="_blank">Amazon UK: </a><br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/2B6fgEF" target="_blank">Amazon US: </a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07YZP2HNC" target="_blank">Amazon AU:</a> <br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B07YZP2HNC" target="_blank">Amazon CA: </a><br />
<a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/yes-maam-kay-jaybee/1106910229" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble:</a> <br />
<a href="https://books.apple.com/gb/book/yes-maam/id1483228798" target="_blank">iBooks UK: </a><br />
<a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/yes-maam/id1483228798" target="_blank">iBooks US:</a> <br />
<a href="https://click.linksynergy.com/deeplink?id=2uLYNRmz8QE&mid=37219&murl=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.kobo.com%2Fgb%2Fen%2Febook%2Fyes-ma-am-9" target="_blank">Kobo</a>: <br />
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/985492" target="_blank">Smashwords</a>:<br />
<br />
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<br />
<b>Kay Jaybee </b><i>was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO</i><br />
<i>She received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.</i><br />
<i>Kay Jaybee has over 190 erotica publications.</i><br />
<i>Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at her </i><a href="http://www.kayjaybee.me.uk/" target="_blank">website</a><i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>You can follow Kay on –</i><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Kay-Jaybee/e/B004O0S9GO" target="_blank">Amazon </a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee" target="_blank">Twitter </a><br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor" target="_blank">Facebook </a><br />
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><br />
<a href="http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html" target="_blank">Brit Babes Site</a><br />
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Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-39770005213912876272019-11-25T12:16:00.001+00:002019-11-25T12:16:51.843+00:00Blue Monday: Meet My Husband<i>Mondays are days on which I post a sexy excerpt for your entertainment!<br />
<br />
Today I've got a bit of publishing news to go with the snippet because my story </i><b>Meet My Husband</b><i> is going to be the first in the lineup of </i><a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Hot-to-the-Touch/Cole-Riley/9781627782975" target="_blank">Hot to the Touch</a><i>, edited by Cole Riley. It'll be out from Cleis in April 2020 - AND OMG LOOK AT THE TABLE OF CONTENTS! It's like all my old co-smutters getting together for a party </i>😍😍😍 <i><br /></i><br />
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<i>Meet My Husband</i> - Janine Ashbless</div>
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<i>Ghost Swinger </i>- Amanda Earl</div>
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<i>The Dinner Party</i> - Remittance Girl</div>
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<i>Because of Bingo</i> - Rebecca M. Kyle</div>
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<i>Bob & Carol & Ted (But Not Alice)</i> - M. Christian</div>
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<i>Homecoming </i>- Teresa Noelle Roberts</div>
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<i>Snakefruit </i>- Anne Tourney</div>
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<i>Him </i>- Sommer Madsen</div>
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<i>Speed Play </i>- Abigail Ekue</div>
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<i>Between Two Lovers</i> - Thomas S.. Roche</div>
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<i>Reminder </i>- Jeremy Edwards</div>
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<i>Sleeper Car</i> - Max Lagos</div>
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<i>The Benefit of the Doubt</i> - Cole Riley</div>
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<i>One Last Fling</i> - Kristina Wright</div>
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<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><b>It doesn’t matter what you heard in the past, because </b></i><a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Hot-to-the-Touch/Cole-Riley/9781627782975" target="_blank"><b>Hot to the Touch: Views from the Polyamory Lifestyle</b></a><i><b><a href="https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Hot-to-the-Touch/Cole-Riley/9781627782975" target="_blank"> </a>is changing the rules. Three isn’t a crowd anymore—it’s the most erotic party your x-rated mind can imagine!</b><br />
<br />
This new collection from well-known editor Cole Riley propels readers into the heads, hearts, and libidos of lovers committed to the Poly Life, open relationships, open communication, and open bedroom doors. With stories from those just beginning to explore the poly lifestyle to those that have years of experience pleasing multiple partners—in or out of the bedroom, together or separately—this collection will arouse your senses and make you yearn for your own menagerie of sexual partners, lovers, and so much more. </i><br />
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<br />
Jeff cleared his throat, his eyes flicking back and forth between them. He was on Andrew's home territory, after all. “Look, I'm going to be straight here. She adores you. She still fucks you. You've got this…” He gestured around at the garden, the house, the sunny afternoon. “This great life together. I've got to wonder: what am I bringing to the table?”<br />
<br />
“Andrew doesn't run,” Cassie said. “And he doesn't go see Whitesnake.”<br />
<br />
“And,” said Andrew, “I don't do kink.”<br />
<br />
Jeff looked at him dubiously down the neck of his bottle, which made Cassie giggle.<br />
<br />
“I don't spank,” her husband said. “Pain squicks me out. I can't fake dominance. Sorry, just not my thing. Poor Cassie finds it very frustrating. Not a kinky bone in my body.”<br />
<br />
“Oh—not exactly true,” Cassie said, poking him in the leg with one finger.<br />
<br />
Jeff's puzzled frown met his amused smile at the level of his eyes, crinkling the skin. “Yeah?”<br />
<br />
“He likes to watch,” Cassie said.<br />
<br />
Andrew spread his hands in a gesture of acquiescence. “Well. I'm a lecturer in Fine Arts,” he excused himself.<br />
<br />
“His girlfriend's a nude life-model. And a pole-dancer. She likes to flash it about, and Andrew loves to go watch her showing off.”<br />
<br />
Jeff pointed a finger. “Wait. You've got a girlfriend too?”<br />
<br />
“Didn't Cassie tell you?”<br />
<br />
“Uh-uh. Is she, uh…with you too, Cass?”<br />
<br />
“No.” This wasn't a lie, though she felt her cheeks warm. Cassie didn't lie to her lovers. Spanking didn't count as sex, she had decided. It wasn't as if she was into other women—she just enjoyed paddling Kayleigh's pretty ass. It wasn't sex if she never even got her hands dirty, was it?<br />
<br />
“And you're okay with that?”<br />
<br />
“I like her,” Cassie said. “She's a nice kid. She likes to go to horrible modern art exhibitions with Andy while not wearing anything under her skirt.”<br />
<br />
“Kid?”<br />
<br />
She rolled her eyes. “Kayleigh's twenty-eight…and a single mother. Sorry, at my age almost everyone seems young. Even you.”<br />
<br />
“There's only seven years difference,” he reminded her. “And you're not old yet.” He winked. “I've seen you naked, remember?”<br />
<br />
She blew him a kiss for his gallantry.<br />
<br />
“How did you two hit it off?” Andrew wondered. Cassie waited for Jeff’s version.<br />
<br />
“Uh…We were at a Sunday park-run. I'd only started a few months beforehand, so I was very much part of the main herd. The thing I've found is, if you can spot a fine ass and try to keep it in sight, it somehow makes things a <i>lot </i>easier. I saw this fine round little pair of cheeks come twinkling past me and I just thought, <i>I'm following this</i>. So I did—all the way to the finish line. Hypnotized, I was. My best time to date by miles. Then I said Hi.”<br />
<br />
“And did I want to go out for a late breakfast?” Cassie added.<br />
<br />
“And that was when she said she was married, over scrambled egg on toast. But that it was alright. Because she was allowed. Which seemed just really weird to me.”<br />
<br />
“But you fucked her anyway,” Andrew noted with an amused twinkle. Cassie felt her blush deepen.<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<b>Hot to the Touch</b> <i>is available for pre-order here</i>:<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hot-Touch-Views-Polyamory-Lifestyle/dp/1627782974/" target="_blank">Amazon UK </a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1627782974" target="_blank">Amazon US</a><br />
<a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-7567305-11819508?SID=simonsayscom&url=http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/?ean=9781627782975" target="_blank">Barnes and Noble</a><br />
<a href="https://www.indiebound.org/book/9781627782975" target="_blank">Indiebound</a>Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-24200643378076016562019-11-06T20:13:00.000+00:002019-11-06T20:13:16.838+00:00Book launch - Monday 11th November<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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COME AND SEE ME!<br /><br />I will be taking part in the book launch for <i><b>The Forgotten and the Fantastical #5</b></i> next <b>Monday 11th November</b> - hosted by editor Teika Bellamy; all welcome; fantasy NOT erotica; FREE CUPCAKES!<br /><br />Also features me utterly failing to convey a Geordie accent 😝<br />
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It's going on at the <a href="https://fiveleavesbookshop.co.uk/" target="_blank">Five Leaves</a> independent, radical bookshop in <b>Nottingham, 7pm - 8.30pm. </b><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://fiveleavesbookshop.co.uk/events/forgotten-and-fantastical-launch/" target="_blank">Full event details here.</a></span></div>
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<i>The fifth in the series of The Forgotten and the Fantastical brings you wolves and glass and altered reality. A grandmother remembers what it was like to be in the belly of a wolf; a newly wed wife is revolted by her billionaire husband; a mother protects her child from the cunning Folk of the Mound, and women young and old go in search of a better life.</i><br />
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<i>Features new writing from: Becky Cherriman, Noel Chidwick, Carys Crossen, Donna M Day, Rosie Garland, Kim Gravell, Katie Gray, Sarah Hindmarsh, Jonty Levine, Keris McDonald, Angela Readman, Louise Richards, Marija Smits, Aliya Whiteley.</i><br />
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<b>"Mind-blowingly gorgeous – filled with wickedly powerful girls and women, playing games with words and songs and gender roles. It feels like reading a collection of stories that were expurgated from the Grimm collections for being too radical. Utterly loved it."</b> - Cassandra Parkin (author of <i>New World Fairy Tales</i>)<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://www.mothersmilkbooks.com/index.php/shop/product/226-the-forgotten-and-the-fantastical-5-edited-by-teika-bellamy" target="_blank">BUY THE BOOK HERE</a></span> </div>
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<br />Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-24394973849429179332019-10-28T09:00:00.000+00:002019-10-28T09:00:08.326+00:00Blue Monday: Lea Bronsen guests<i>Mondays are days on which I post a sexy excerpt for your entertainment!<br />
<br />
Today's guest publication is a little different for this blog, because </i><a href="http://leabronsen.com/" target="_blank">Lea Bronsen</a><i>'s new book </i><a href="https://books2read.com/u/b5QWel" target="_blank">Carnivora Part 1</a><i> is not not erotica or even romance but a dark thriller - though it does contain sizzling sex, as she explains here and demonstrates below:</i><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"I’ve always been fascinated by dark psychological thrillers that mess with your mind and keep you on the edge of your seat. I toyed with the genre writing my debut novel Wild Hearted, but labeled it a crime drama. Its sequel, Carnivora, evolved over six years to become a full-blown hold-your-breath thriller that deals with grave issues such as kidnapping, child sex trafficking, and self-harm.<br />
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Telling five parallel stories with as many voices, it gives you the perspectives of a police informant, a hunted gangster, a mad avenger, an inconsolable girlfriend, and a psychotic kidnapper. I pull no punches weaving these stories, so be prepared for a dark, gritty, and graphic read – a little dirty on the erotic side – that I hope will play with your strings and stick with you for a long time."</blockquote>
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<i>Fight evil with evil.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>TOMOR</i><br />
<i>Crime lord Tomor is serving a life sentence behind bars. Without warning, he’s abducted by mysterious men. A sick manhunt is on, with people around him dying like flies. He will need all his street flair and gangster skills to prevent his loved ones from ending up on the death list.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>LUZ</i><br />
<i>Luz grieves the loss of her lover while striving to take care of their baby. The last thing she needs is to fall for the new neighbor.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>DAVID</i><br />
<i>A year after he betrayed his adoptive father and sent him to jail, David is slowly rebuilding his life. Then everything falls apart again: he learns that Tomor has escaped, and his police connections lead him to a child sex trafficking ring involving cold, powerful men.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i> <i>The cops are in over their heads with “Project Carnivora” … Perhaps the only one who can help bust the pedophile predators is an equally vicious devil: Tomor, the country’s most hunted criminal.</i><br />
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<br />
I ask, “How much does your husband have left in jail?”<br />
<br />
“Four years, now. Means he’ll be out in two. That’s such a long time. I miss him every damn day.” With a deep sigh, the axe woman pauses and keeps her fork in the air as if searching for words.<br />
<br />
“I understand.”<br />
<br />
“He’s always good to me. Treats me well, you know. Nicely.” She clears her throat. “Makes me feel good.”<br />
<br />
<i>Yeah?</i><br />
<br />
Oppressive silence.<br />
<br />
Outside, happy birds chirp away, celebrating the end of the rain.<br />
<br />
She puts her fork down and clenches her fists. Her large chest heaves, making soft waves of gray hair move around her shoulders.<br />
<br />
I breathe slowly, too, and wait for the punch line.<br />
<br />
She throws me a look, hooded eyes speaking of forbidden things. “You know what I’m talkin’ about?”<br />
<br />
I’m not sure how to react. Just hold her gaze.<br />
<br />
“You know what it’s like to be lonely,” she whispers.<br />
<br />
I do.<br />
<br />
She stands, circles the table, pushes my plate away, and places her legs on either side of mine. With a quick hand gesture, her flannel shirt opens, displaying huge hanging breasts. The smell of hot sweat floats between us, but instead of hindering my attraction, the scent intoxicates me. I’m unable to put my eyes anywhere but on these full, tempting tits. How can a poor bastard locked up for a year without a female resist?<br />
<br />
My cock stirs. I know what that means. <br />
<br />
With a deep intake of breath, I push my chair back and stand in front of her. Can’t meet her eyes ‘cause I’m afraid they’ll tell me she’s compensating for the loss of her husband. Don’t want grief mixed into whatever is happening. Just like I don’t want Luz mixed into it, either. This has nothing to do with her. What’s going on now is purely mechanical.<br />
<br />
I reach out and fill my palms with warm, soft boobs. <i>Fuuuuck</i>, it’s been so long. I love feminine skin. With my thumbs and index fingers, I roll and squeeze the protruding nipples. <br />
<br />
She gasps and throws her head back. My cock stiffens and presses against the zipper. Can’t help it, I’m in need. My hips shoot forward, into hers, and push her ass toward the table. The cutlery rolls to a side.<br />
<br />
Breath hitching, she places her hands behind her. I can only imagine the hot wetness of her cunt, dripping with lust. Gets me even harder. I have no feelings for that woman, but I’m gonna need to bury myself inside her soon, very soon. I close my eyes and knead her generous, tender tits in my palms, making her mew.<br />
<br />
She moves her hands to my pants and unzips me. My blood pulses faster. She grabs my length, pulls it out between us, and with expert fingers strokes all the way from the balls and up. Violent heat rushes through me. I laugh. This situation is un-fucking-believable and delicious at the same time. When she massages the tip, I groan loud, seeing stars behind my closed eyelids. <br />
<br />
“I love cock,” she moans. “I haven’t had cock in <i>years</i>.”<br />
<br />
Well, you’re gonna get what you’re gonna get. <br />
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<b>Available from</b></div>
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<b><br />
</b></div>
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<b><a href="https://books2read.com/u/b5QWel" target="_blank">Books2Read</a> / <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07Y53K3HM/" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> / <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07Y53K3HM/" target="_blank">Amazon UK </a>/ <a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/carnivora-part-1-lea-bronsen/1133703111" target="_blank">Barnes & Noble</a> / <a href="https://www.kobo.com/no/en/ebook/carnivora-part-1" target="_blank">Kobo </a>/ <a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1480871839" target="_blank">iBooks </a>/ <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/959137" target="_blank">Smashwords</a></b></div>
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<b><br />
</b></div>
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<b>Put the book on your to-read shelf on <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/44588612-carnivora" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></b></div>
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<b>See photos that inspired the book on <a href="https://no.pinterest.com/leabronsen/carnivora-wild-hearted-2/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></b></div>
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<b>Lea Bronsen</b> <i></i><br />
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<i>likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same</i><i> intensity. After a deep dive on the unforgiving world of gangsters with her debut novel </i><b>Wild Hearted,</b><i> she divides her writing time between romantic suspenses, dark erotic romances, and crime thrillers.</i><br />
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<i>Meet Lea Bronsen on</i><br />
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<a href="http://leabronsen.com/" target="_blank">Website </a>/ <a href="https://leabronsen.com/blog/" target="_blank">Blog </a>/ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/wildhearted.author" target="_blank">Facebook </a>/ <a href="https://twitter.com/LeaBronsen" target="_blank">Twitter </a>/ <a href="https://www.instagram.com/leabronsen/" target="_blank">Instagram </a>/ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6966248.Lea_Bronsen" target="_blank">Goodreads </a>/ <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lea-Bronsen/e/B00BTFT8KS/" target="_blank">Amazon </a>/ <a href="https://no.pinterest.com/leabronsen/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></div>
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<br />Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-39375653280416453062019-10-21T12:37:00.000+01:002019-10-22T17:28:09.281+01:00Blue Monday: Kryssie Fortune guests<i>Mondays are days on which I post a sexy excerpt for your entertainment!</i><br />
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</i> <i>Today's guest author is </i><a href="http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Kryssie Fortune</a>, <i>with an excerpt from her spanking new historical, </i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07YQWN83W" target="_blank">The Viscount's Pet</a><i>:</i><br />
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When her brother tries to force her into a marriage with a detestable baron, Julianna Halstead flees the family estate she has helped manage since the death of her parents. But as she makes her escape late at night, Juliana’s carelessness nearly results in her being trampled by a galloping horse, and the steed’s handsome rider takes it upon himself to correct her right then and there.<br />
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Though having her bottom bared and soundly spanked on the side of the road leaves Juliana blushing crimson, the punishment arouses her intensely and her body’s helpless response cannot be hidden. To make matters worse, the gentleman over whose lap she was so firmly chastised turns out to be none other than Viscount Stonehurst, someone she has known since childhood.<br />
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When Stonehurst learns of Juliana’s predicament, he decides to make her his bride. She will be no ordinary wife, however. She will be something much more shameful. But even as she is leashed, collared, and put on display in a cage wearing only a tail, then brought out to be used in ways no proper lady should enjoy, will Juliana come to love her new life as the viscount’s pet?<br />
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Letting him plug her darkest entrance still felt scandalous and taboo. Her submissive side found it raw and erotic, so primal it was intoxicating. Wearing her tail helped her sink into pet space and freed her from any concerns and inhibitions.<br />
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Stonehurst stood with his back to the window, silhouetted by the light. He turned stern and commanding—her master in every sense. “Do you trust me never to hurt you or push you too far?”<br />
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“Of course,” she answered instantly.<br />
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He passed her a small wooden box. “Take a look at this, puss.”<br />
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Puzzled, she lifted the lid and pulled out a bundle of leather straps with buckle fastenings at each end. A ball with fine whiskers attached hung in the middle. Uncertain, she ran her fingers over it.<br />
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She hardly spoke when in feline mode, just mewled or purred as she wound between her beloved master’s ankles. She wasn’t sure about wearing a gag, but her cunny tingled at the thought. “You want to silence me?”<br />
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Part of her wanted to back off in horror, but if she was honest, she loved it.<br />
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Stonehurst kissed the tip of her nose. “Think about it for as long as you like, sweetheart. The decision is always yours.”<br />
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Reassured, she dropped to her knees and crawled to her cage. Pausing in the doorway, she gave her derriere a sassy wiggle. His hungry groan made her feel feminine and flirty.<br />
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Their evenings were unusual and naughty, but she thought them perfect. She held the ball to her lips and licked it. It didn’t taste of sour glue or even of chemicals, so she slipped it into her mouth to test it.<br />
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She felt more vulnerable than ever, but Stonehurst would never hurt her. Her jaw might ache if they used it too long, though. Next, she pulled the straps around her head. It wouldn’t be too tight, and her feline side loved her spider-thin whiskers.<br />
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Taking it from her lips, she emerged from her refuge and rubbed against Stonehurst’s calves. He stroked her hair. “Has my sweet little kitten decided? No pressure, puss, do what seems right.”<br />
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She blinked as she looked up at him then nodded.<br />
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“Good girl,” he approved, “but if you hate it, remove it. Although, in here, I like my kitty having whiskers.”<br />
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With a swish of her hips that waggled her tail, she sat on her haunches and sucked the ball back into her mouth. She sank to all fours, her head lowered for him to fasten the buckle. Pawing at her face, she gave a contented purr. She’d never been more cat.<br />
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He hooked a leash into a metal loop stitched into her collar. “Cats use their whiskers to sense their surroundings. I can help with that.”<br />
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He pulled off his cravat and folded it into a makeshift blindfold, and fastened it around her eyes. The darkness disoriented her.<br />
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He tickled behind her ear. “Show me what a well-behaved kitty you are. Let’s take a stroll. Try to stay close to my legs, but I’ll spank you if you trip me.”<br />
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Rubbing against him, she trailed her whiskers against his breeches. She concentrated on every sound, determined to please him. He must have brought the riding crop from Grace Street over with their sex toys. He guided her around the room by planting a series of light slaps to her thigh.<br />
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After a couple of circuits, he removed the blindfold. “Well done, puss.”<br />
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His praise delighted her. As a reward, he teased her by dangling a long piece of fur over her head. She liked that when she batted it, the bell on her collar rang.<br />
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After a while, he changed tactics, dragging it along the carpet. She pounced like a lioness. Her new bell tinkled as she caught it with her first leap.<br />
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He rubbed her cheek. “I think your reactions have got faster. Give it back and I’ll beat you next time.”<br />
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Her inner animal snarled, and she hugged the trophy two-handed to her chest. She’d won it, and her<br />
wildcat side intended to keep it, even if he spanked her for it. Maybe she wanted his palm beating on her posterior and the intense orgasms that followed.<br />
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When he tried to take it, she growled, wiggled her hips in mock attack mode, and slapped his arm.<br />
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He gave her behind a sharp smack. “Bad kitten. Behave or your master will spank you in earnest.”<br />
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After a moment’s hesitation, she twined about his legs like a she-cat in heat, but she refused to relinquish her prize.<br />
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He swooped without warning, grabbed her by the waist, and hauled her across to the sofa. When he sat, he draped her over her knee. She jiggled her hips, all sass and sensual invitation.<br />
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“Twenty hard spanks, but if you drop the fur I’ll stop. You got that, kitten?”<br />
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Gagged, she couldn’t answer, so she clutched her trophy tighter. His dominance thrilled her, and she submitted completely. Reality faded. All that mattered was pleasing her master. Fucking him afterward, too.<br />
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<i>Buy </i><b>The Viscount's Pet</b> <i>at:</i><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07YQWN83W" target="_blank">Amazon USA</a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07YQWN83W" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B07YQWN83W/" target="_blank">Amazon CA</a><br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07YQWN83W" target="_blank">Amazon AU</a><br />
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OR READ FOR FREE ON KINDLE UNLIMITED<br />
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<i>Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae or BDSM loving dragons.</i><br />
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<i>Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life - or Kryssie - throws at them.</i><br />
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</i> <i>Kryssie's pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.</i><br />
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<i>Her books are all stand alone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.</i><br />
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<a href="https://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssiefortune" target="_blank">Website </a><br />
<a href="http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">Blog </a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune" target="_blank">Twitter </a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/KryssiesFortune" target="_blank">Facebook </a><br />
<a href="http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc" target="_blank">Pinterest </a><br />
<a href="http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ" target="_blank">Goodreads </a> <br />
<a href="http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO" target="_blank">Amazon Author Page</a> Janine Ashblesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00840188081214225153noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8281925592595958318.post-82521759762101282262019-10-14T10:44:00.000+01:002019-10-14T10:44:22.197+01:00Blue Monday: Queenie Black guests<i>Mondays are days on which I post a sexy excerpt for your entertainment!</i><br />
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</i> <i>Today's guest author is </i><a href="http://www.queenieblackauthor.com/" target="_blank">Queenie Black</a>, <i>whose new BDSM story</i> <a href="https://www.evernightpublishing.com/hard-pressed-by-queenie-black/" target="_blank">Hard-Pressed</a> <i>is out now and</i> <a href="http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/queenie-black-2/" target="_blank">on tour. </a><br />
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<i>Master Lucien has one night at Club Hard.</i><br />
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<i>One night…to show bodyguard Rose Dainty that he can be the Dom she needs,</i><br />
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<i>One night…to show her that submitting to him doesn’t make her weak, that true submission requires strength and trust.</i><br />
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<i>Will pushing Rose to her limits prove to her she can trust him with her body and heart, and can she let go of her deepest fears long enough to enjoy her surrender? `</i><br />
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<i>They both have everything to prove and everything to lose.</i><br />
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“<i>Oui</i>, You can.” He withdrew his fingers and squeezed my bottom, drawing a trembling cry from me as all my nerve endings came alive again. “That’s my beautiful little subbie.” He went back to his playing and soon I was writhing again. He got me nearly to tipping point and then stopped. A frustrated sound left my throat. <br />
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“Did you just growl at me?” <br />
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I had no idea, all I could focus on was the growing need. Why had he stopped? <br />
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Lifting me off his knee, he turned me so that I was sitting on his lap. <br />
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“Ouch.” <br />
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He grinned. “Tender?” <br />
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My nod didn’t draw any sympathy from him. <br />
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“Breathe in.” He released my hands, bringing them around gently. I hissed as the blood rushed into them. Lucien gently massaged them, moving from my shoulders down to my fingers, easing the discomfort. It should have switched me off, shouldn’t it? But the slow burn at my core remained undiminished. <br />
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When the tingling had stopped, he stood. “My turn.” <br />
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Turning me, he bent me over the couch and told me to brace myself on my palms. “Hold on. Spread your legs … a little wider.” <br />
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I obeyed, widening my stance, aware only of such deep wanting and the sweet knowledge that Lucien was the only one who could assuage it. <br />
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He laid one hand on my shoulders, pushing them lower. <br />
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“Fuck, you’re beautiful! Look at these breasts.” He stroked them, played with them as if he had all the time in the world, as if I wasn’t desperate to come. By now, I was so far gone all I could do was whimper and beg. <br />
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Hyper-attuned to everything he did, I heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, the soft chink of his belt being unbuckled, the hiss of his zipper. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear all the wicked things he was planning to do to me, his hot breath popping goosebumps up all over my body. I shivered. Fabric brushed against the backs of my thighs and he notched the crown of his cock at my entrance. <br />
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“Yes,” I moaned. “Please.” <br />
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He slid in an inch, slowly made it two… <br />
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He was big. I was still trying to process the feel of him when I felt him shudder and he growled. “I can’t wait, Rose. You can take me. All of me.” And he slammed home, stealing the breath from my lungs, stretching me to capacity. I squeaked and went up on my toes while I tried to adjust to the shocking invasion. <br />
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Lucien braced his left hand next to mine, caging me under his body and with his other, gripped my hip so tightly I was bound to have bruises. It didn’t bother me. I wanted to wear the marks of his possession. <br />
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And then I could do nothing more than weather the damn storm. Pinned down in such a submissive stance, feeling the push and drag as he took his pleasure, the fire where my bottom kept rubbing against him was like a thread of lightning straight to my clit. My inner muscles tightened involuntarily. <br />
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“Oh yes, <i>m’amour</i>, like that. Squeeze me tight.” <br />
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Lucien was in me, around me, so I could no longer tell where he stopped and I began. My mind whited out as an orgasm moved through me in a slow tectonic roll. I lost touch with the world for endless moments. <br />
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As everything settled back into focus, the first thing that I noticed was that Lucien’s left hand was now entwined with mine. I felt wobbly, newborn, emerging into a world that had resettled in a fundamentally different form. <br />
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“<i>Merde</i>,” Lucien swore roughly as he ground against me and came so deep, he set off another wave of aftershocks.<br />
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<hr />
<i>Buy </i><b>Hard-Pressed</b> <i>at</i>:<br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/2lXpCSP" target="_blank">Amazon USA</a>: <br />
<a href="https://amzn.to/2kswibm" target="_blank">Amazon UK</a>: <br />
<a href="https://www.evernightpublishing.com/hard-pressed-by-queenie-black/" target="_blank">Evernight</a>: <br />
<a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/958783" target="_blank">Smashwords</a>:<br />
<a href="https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/hard-pressed-18" target="_blank">Kobo</a>: <br />
<a href="https://books.apple.com/gb/book/hard-pressed/id1480423303" target="_blank">iBooks</a>: <br />
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<b>Queenie Black</b> <i>says: "I’ve always loved writing and I won my first prize for a short story when I was still at primary school. I’m an avid reader of romance and erotic romance and can usually be found with my nose in a book. The dynamics and sheer variety of human relationships fascinate me, and this is what I like to explore in my writing. I live in North Yorkshire with my husband and cat where I enjoy running and Tai Chi."</i><br />
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<a href="https://twitter.com/queenieblackwr1" target="_blank">Twitter</a>: <br />
<a href="http://www.queenieblackauthor.com/" target="_blank">Website</a>: <br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/queenieblackauthor/" target="_blank">Facebook page</a>: <br />
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