Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Excerpt Tuesdays with London Saint James




Blackthorn Printing made a splash in the publishing world with the introduction of Dark Tales Diaries, yet despite his efforts, Tristan Blackthorn isn’t any closer to finding the woman he seeks. Unwilling to give up on his lost love, his search for Keira continues in Volume Two.

A voyeuristic moment leads an astronomy professor and his assistant to a steamy endeavor on The Observation Deck.

An invitation for cocktails has the reclusive woman who lives in 204-B pondering why the handsome, wealthy owner of her building would invite her to anything. Does she have enough guts to go to The Top Floor?

And a Maestro strikes the right cord with a young and talented cellist who is trying to find her passion.



Be Warned: voyeurism, bondage, spanking, sex toys, anal sex

Adult Excerpt:

     “Come on, Tristan,” Keira said, giggling playfully as she shut her diary.

     “What new story have you added? One of love? Intrigue? A tale of the forbidden?” I inquired while eyeing the leather bound book.

     Keira laid it aside, and rose to her feet. “I’ll read them to you, someday.”

     She slipped out of her white cotton dress, leaving her sandals in the wake of snow-colored material at my feet. I leaned my back against the trunk of the tree, pretending to rest, but in truth, rest was the furthest thing from my mind.

     Keira twirled on the ball of her foot, more graceful than any dancer.

     “Do that again,” I said.

     The sun broke through the leaves on the trees, and set her long raven tresses into brilliant highlights that shimmered in deepened shades of blue-black. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She alone encapsulated perfection, with her small, pert breasts slightly covered by her long hair, and when she moved, the gumdrop point of a pale-pink nipple peeked through some of the strands. She raised her arms above her head, giving me a full view of her extended frame, and did something of a provocative pirouette before turning to face the pond.

     Her slender waist gave way to rounded hips that swayed seductively as she tiptoed, nude, toward the edge of the water. She stuck one toe in, and looked at me over her slender shoulder. Her jewel-green eyes penetrated my soul.

      Keira twisted her long hair up, and used the dark pieces that fell from her fingers to weave her tresses into a tied-off knot, freeing the canvas of her back. The dappled shade that fell from one of the overhanging branches caressed the curve of her spine like a long lost lover, and in that instant I wanted to kiss the dimples above her heart-shaped ass. The thought stirred up something much more primal.

     “Are you coming?” she asked.

     When Keira licked the plumpness of her lips, my cock ached for her.

     “Definitely,” I said, and stood from my shaded spot under the oak, toeing off my shoes in a hurry, before ridding myself of my shirt and pants.

     Once free of my clothing, I bounded toward her. She grinned and jumped before my hand made contact with her arm. I wasted no time, and followed in behind her. Our heads popped to the surface in unison, with her joyous laughter filling the air.

     “I bet you can’t catch me,” she taunted in a cutesy voice before diving beneath the murky pool.

     I studied the trail of bubbles and waves she made, guessing where she might come up, then made my way onto the grassy bank, crossed over the plank bridge, and hopped into the water off the south bank. When she resurfaced, I snatched her up.

     “Got you,” I said, and placed a kiss to her lips.

     She wiggled. Her moist mouth left mine. “No fair, Tristan. You were supposed to swim and catch me, not cheat, and wait until I ran out of air.”

     “You never outlined the rules. And besides, I play to win.”

     Keira, shook her head. Water rolled along her nose, over her parted lips, and down her chin before the wandering drop found its home in the pond.

     “I know you do,” she said, rubbing her nose against mine. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”  

     “What else do you love about me?”

     “I’m not telling.”

     I placed my lips to her tempting neck, traced a line with the tip of my nose to the end of her ear, and sucked her lobe into my mouth. “What if I persuade you to tell me?”

    She moaned my name, and draped her arms around my neck. “Don’t stop doing that, and I might be persuaded.”

     Keira wrapped her long legs around my waist. The head of my hard cock slipped between our two intertwined bodies. She pressed herself against me, tighter. Warmth worked its way through my essence as I slid my manhood in-between her parted lower lips. I wanted to explore all of her with my hands, my dick, and my mouth. One hand remained on the back of her slim neck while the other left her lower back to discover the wonder of her ass. Flames, not water lapped at my skin with a desire beyond words.




For a limited time, Dark Tales Diaries: Volume One is 99 cents on Amazon




For years, Tristan Blackthorn has toiled to find his lost love. He finally decides to use Blackthorn Printing, along with his newly created Dark Tales Diaries, as a way to find herWill her story be one of the three tales in Volume One?


Mistress Guinevere’s calling card is her Red Stilettos. She specializes in a particular fetish and always maintains her control, until a man from her past returns to test her will. 

A recently divorced woman experiences the effects of empty nest syndrome after her twins head off to college. With the clock ticking away, she decides it’s far past time to seek out something that has always eluded her. Will she find what she’s looking for withThe Leather’s Edge?

And a bored computer programmer learns what it’s like to feel sexual freedom after being bound by a Master in Safe Word.



Be Warned: bondage, anal sex, sex toys, fetish

Buy Links:    Evernight Publishing     Amazon    All Romance eBooks 


About London:

London wrote her first short story in the second grade.  Her teacher informed her parents London had a big imagination, but having a big imagination wasn’t necessarily a good thing as far as he was concerned.  Without watering that seed of imagination, London placed her vivid characters, her childhood stories, along with her imagination on the shelf, where they would wither for a while.  At the urging of her eighth grade English teacher, London pulled her imagination off that shelf, and wrote her second short story.  To no surprise, it was a love story inspired by a song.  Then as life does, it moves on, so yet again London placed her imagination on the shelf to wither for a while.  She needed to do the “sensible thing.”

The sensible thing earned London a degree in Psychology, but while in college she traversed into writing once more, and was encouraged by a couple of professors to pursue that endeavor.  She took on the world of written word, and has never looked back. 

London writes erotic romance from sweet to downright naughty.  She is an author for Evernight Publishing, a member of the Romance Writers of America, and a member of Passionate Ink.

Connect with London:    Site       Blog        Facebook       Twitter



Sunday, June 16, 2013

Sexy Snippets—Breaking the Huddle


I hope y'all are having a great weekend. This week's sexy snippet is from Breaking the Huddle, my first m/m romance.



Another groan pierced the air, almost causing Mac to spit out his beer. He sat the can on the counter and took a breath. He  made  his  way  down  the  hall  and  stopped  outside  his  roommate’s   door. Antino laid on his bed, his cock firmly in his grasp, as he stroked himself up and then down over and over. Naked as the day he was born. His golden skin was such a contrast against the black covers he laid  on  top  of. Muscles  rippled  from  every  part  of  his  body  and  Mac’s  cock   stirred  to  life  again.
 


Here's the blurb.


Mac Campbell has had a crush on his best friend and roommate Antino Lopez for years…except he can’t like men, he’s a football player. He’s known as the ladies man and he plays the part to a T. Except something is missing. He knows that men turn him on, but he doesn’t want to admit the truth…until Antino dares him. He wonders afterwards if he can go back to being a ladies man again. Is he finally ready to admit the truth to himself that he’s known all his life?

Antino has loved Mac for long as he can remember. On the outside, his buddy sees someone who dates one man after another, but on the inside he’s waiting patiently for the chance to be with Mac. One night when he catches him masturbating, he knows this is his chance to challenge him to try being with a man, just once. He plans on making this a dare he won’t lose, and gain everything he’s always wanted—Mac.


You can purchase, Breaking the Huddle from Secret Cravings Publishing and Amazon.


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Be sure to check out all of the Sexy Snippets this week.



Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Dark Days with Arya Grey


Hello all, and a big thanks to Alyssa for having me over at her blog. J

I'm here today to talk about my latest story, "Dark Days", which releases today with Evernight Publishing. I had a lot of fun writing this book, especially concerning the dialogue…

Dark Days is set in the northern part of Louisiana. Although I was born and raised in Scotland and live here now, I lived in Phoenix, Arizona for ten years, but unfortunately never made it over to the Pelican State. And that meant that when Regan created herself I had to brush up my research skills and really look into how Louisiana natives speak and what words they use. Wyatt was a little easier, being that he is a Texan and I have a few Texan friends to know their natural drawl and speech.

And I'm not sure I've laughed that much during research, maybe ever. Regan Steele is a sassy demon hunter who strips at a small club part-time. She's hot headed and speaks before she thinks, so I really had to make sure the words coming out of her mouth were natural for someone living in the bayou. And it was just that that made me fall in love with her. I have a lot of characters (both written and still inside my head), but Regan Steele is by far my favorite heroine. She's strong and independent, and her quick tongue throws Wyatt off more times than he was ready for.

I'll leave you with Wyatt to show you a little bit of Regan, in a small teaser for my dark little paranormal story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


Blurb:
Regan Steele is a young stripper who has gone through life assuming she's the only one who can see and annihilate the demons that have plagued her since childhood. She certainly doesn't expect to meet another Hunter, let alone fall for his insufferable ass.
Wyatt Recker has walked the earth for most of his life. Alone. When he stumbles across Regan he knows his attraction to the girl can mean only one thing—trouble. But, he soon realizes that no matter his rules and regulations, he cannot deny her for long.
When the demon world shifts, stakes are higher than ever. Can Regan and Wyatt come out of it alive, or will their love for one another endanger them further?

Excerpt:

She turned the key on the lock of the front door, glared back at him, and huffed. She creaked the door enough for her slim figure to squeeze in, and he pushed it open further with the tip of his boot.
Well, this isn't exactly what I'd expected...but then, what did I expect?
It was a small studio apartment with plain white walls and a standard beige carpet. An old dark green love seat was shoved against the wall, and the only bit of character this place had was a Fight Club poster that hung crooked over the smallest TV he had ever seen. He raised an eyebrow and looked over at her as she threw her keys on the kitchen counter.
"What?" She curled her lip, defensively.
"This is a real nice place you got here."
"Carry on and I'll have your nuts for breakfast. It serves its purpose, that's all it needs to do."
She huffed again and slid her jacket off as she disappeared behind the only door—in a corner that might be considered a hallway. He laughed to himself, huskily, and wandered into the kitchen. He bent to the small fridge next to the sink and opened it. The smell almost knocked him flat on his ass. The light didn't even flicker on and the heat was almost stronger in there than it was outside. He squeezed his hand around the open milk carton, which was solid.
Jesus, hasn't she heard of cleaning?
He stepped back and almost tripped on a large unzipped suitcase that was sprawled out across the floor. Underwear of every color and assortment were messily strewn over something else that caught his eye; something shiny. He pulled his glove off of his right hand and crumpled it in his pocket. He leaned over, taking a sheer black thong in his hand—intending to move it so he could see what was underneath—but her voice startled him. He dropped the panties and stood rigidly.
Her breath fanned across the back of his neck. "Fancy tryin' a pair on?" She hummed in his ear.
He turned around, only to be centimeters from her. Without her heels on, the top of her head stood at the round of his shoulders. Her naked breasts pressed against his stomach. Her eyes, a pale gray with blue speckles, stared up at him.   She traced her hand over his hip and across the zip of his jeans. The corner of her bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth.
Don't even look at her face. Oh God, stop thinking of her altogether! Now is not the time...
Her hand cupped his embarrassingly growing cock and squeezed.
He swallowed the saliva that burned at the back of his throat.
"Or maybe you're too big for them." She smiled, deviously. He shuddered. She dropped his manhood from her steel grip and pushed him out of the way, tossing the magnum on top of her clothes. Right in front of him she began to roll down the fishnet stockings, in a much more sensual manner than she needed to. The studded thong was so tiny that she might as well have been completely naked.
Is she trying to torture me? I'm only human, god dammit.
She tossed them to the suitcase and wriggled her way into the smallest jean shorts he'd ever laid eyes on. On either side of her thighs lay a sort of circular sheath made of old brown leather. She buttoned the top and leaned over the suitcase again, showing her perfect ass that peeked out the bottom of the frayed denim, just like she had at the bar. He wrapped the coat ends tightly around himself, praying that his excitableness would soon fade.
Good lord...a woman hasn't made me feel like that in...well, I can't remember how long. No doubt, the second she kicks off again, this feeling will disappear.
"Have you ever heard of throwing something out when it's old and rotten?"
She stood straight, with a thin cotton t-shirt around her head, still bunched in her hands at her shoulders and smelled the air. "Did you open the fridge? Didn't your momma ever tell you it's rude to snoop?" She pulled the rest of the shirt down. It was tiny, very much like the shorts. If she were to reach for something high her breasts would fall out the bottom. The thin material did nothing to keep her pierced nipples, which were permanently erect, from poking through either.
He shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it and was met with her lips.
She parted them as if she were going to kiss him and began to laugh, so loudly that his ears rang. "Ah! Men are all the god damn same!" She stifled the last giggle as she moved herself back.
He clenched his jaw in anger and ground his teeth. His ungloved hand grabbed the top of her arm, wrapping his fingers so easily around it that they folded over one another. She frowned and he pulled her closer again, so close that his quiet intake of breath moved a few loose tendrils of her hair. "Listen here, bones. No one makes a mug outta me. Get your shit together and let's move on."
"Alright, cowboy. Hold your horses." She stepped back and he let go. She shook her arm and slipped into a pair of old dirt-crusted biker boots with a large copper buckle.
"Wyatt Recker," he said. He pulled an unfiltered cigarette from his inner pocket, hoping he would actually get to smoke this one.
"Sorry, what?" She looked up at him through her mess of wavy hair as she bent into the suitcase once more.
"My name…is Wyatt Recker."
"Seriously?" Her voice pitched and he turned so he no longer had to look at her scantily dressed body bending over at every given opportunity.
"Well, Wyatt..." The sound of metal sliding against metal made him look over his shoulder. In each hand she had a blade, shaped perfectly like a crescent moon. The edges gleamed brightly and the ring of the previous sound echoed throughout the small space. Her wrists dropped them lower to the ground, exposing the smooth black handles, before spinning them into the sheaths on her thighs. Her speed and grace left him speechless. "We got us some demon shitheads to kill." She smiled, so sinister.
The aching pain in his groin grew rather than dissolved.
Every dog has its fleas, but a girl with an attitude the size of King Kong, a body that screams to be touched, and an insatiable thirst for violence? Well, I'll be damned!
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