Coming attractions: the final week

It's the last Coming Attractions and he is definitely an attraction and he is definitely asking you to come a little closer (and a little closer - and a little harder...) and because this is the last time I get to deluge your screen with gratuitously beautiful men, one just isn't enough.


Speaking of deluges, we've long had a thing for wet men. Kristina Lloyd started it and I blame her for my corruption.

On Monday, Kristina Lloyd and Mathilde Madden are back: erstwhile Lusties, and now the Biceps Bitches, to lavish you with man candy and make the (amazingly controversial) case for more of it.





From my relish for skinny boys, Kristina reminded me of the bliss of brawn, and has finally explained to me the appeal of submission. (It's not about the bared arse, it's about the man looming over it.)

So here's an extra brute for her ... and here's an even compromise.

And here's a little extra for all of us, because four isn't enough - sometimes you need five.

On Wednesday, Kate Pearce asks the hard questions (like Jeremy Paxman, but with more random gleaming torsos and rippling six-packs) and gets the Lusties low-down on our time here.

And on Friday, it's closing time and Olivia Knight draws the final curtain: we'll be leaving our forwarding addresses, splashing our blogs and websites around, (adding a few more gratuitous naked men no doubt), kissing, wiping away tears, making thank you speeches, and towards the end of the evening and the farewell-champagne getting really honest about our feelings and sobbing "I love you guys, no really, I do - no really, you need to understand this..."

Okay, it's getting sad. Time for another naked man.

And in case he's too sensitive for your tastes, here's someone more brutish who definitely doesn't have poetry on his mind.

"...the hinted at, the unseen, decaying lilies, seedy alleyways, and the catch in his voice when he says ‘Suck it, bitch.’" - Kristina Lloyd

We've looked at a lot of men over the last two years. We have littered our posts with gratuitous photos. So I leave you with this last plea, from our prisoner in the Lust Bites dungeons, the man himself:

I'm trying to... really I am... Damn.

---

Last competition winners!

For the 101 Sexy Dares launch, Laura Corn's Waaay Too Much Fun Package, goes to Angell for the sexiest-written dare of the lot. As your editor I'm going to request a rewrite making it possible for non-plumber-men, but this was a scorching vision. Send your address to knight [dot] olivia [at] gmail [dot] com for your hamper.

I dare you to leave the briefs at home, along with your sense of propriety. I dare you to go on every call today, with the thought of fucking me in your head. I dare you to smile naughtily at every housewife, every maid, every woman that answers the door, as if you have a secret you'd love to tell her. I dare you to rub yourself discretely to keep yourself hard, and pop your button every time you lie down to fix it. And while lying under those sinks, while snaking their pipes and twisting their nuts, while your hard cock presses against the zipper that's dying to bust open, I dare you to keep control.

And a copy of Pam Rosenthal's book, The Edge of Impropriety, goes to Caffey - send your details to contactme [at] katepearce [dot] com.

CHANCE OF A LIFETIME - Portia Da Costa

CHANCE OF A LIFETIME is a short erotic romance novella, published on 1st November 2008 by Spice Briefs. It's BDSM themed and features an impoverished twenty-first century aristocrat who enjoys introducing his lovers to the delights of sensual spanking.

Here's an excerpt in which Rose discovers the joys and risks of sneakily watching the Marquis's secret videotapes...

---------------------

I discovered this little sitting room a couple days ago, when I was a bit lost and searching for the Blue Salon where I was supposed to be polishing the floor. I stumbled in here and found a room that was homely and pretty lived in, and sort of cozy. And me being irredeemably nosy, when I saw an old VCR and a bunch of tapes, I had to investigate.

Boy oh boy oh boy! What a shock I got.

And now, while the house is empty, I slip another tape into the machine and settle down in a battered old leather armchair to watch it.

It’s a home movie. Filmed, I think, in this very room. And it stars my latest crush, the Marquis himself, and what must have been his girlfriend at the time. Obviously, it was taped many years ago, because His Lordship had short hair then, and now it’s long, down to his shoulders.

Here he is, possibly sitting in this very chair. His knees are set wide apart and his girlfriend is face down across them.

He’s spanking her.

He’s really laying it on with his long, powerful hand, and she’s squirming and creating and patently loving it!

And I’m loving it too, and I don’t really know why. Okay, I knew people played spanking games for sexual kicks, and I’d sort of hinted to various boyfriends that I’d like to try it. But it’s never happened and I’ve never really worried about that.

But now. Now I’ve seen it. I bloody well want it!

I’m so turned on now I can barely see straight. And I certainly can’t stay still in my chair. I’m sweating and my skin feels like it’s already been spanked, all over. And between my legs, I’m drenched, my panties sopping with intense, almost inexplicable arousal. My sex is aching, tight and hungry, as if I want to be fucked right now, but at the same time have my bottom thrashed, just like the woman in the video.

The Marquis really seems to be enjoying her pleasure, even though his cool, handsome face is exquisitely impassive. It’s an old, well worn tape, but I can still see the mask of stern, beautiful composure that he affects… and the wicked dark twinkle in his eyes.

It’s no good, I’ve got to play with myself. I can’t help it and I can’t bear it if I don’t. My sex is so heavy and so tense, I’ve just got to do it.

As the woman on the screen writhes and wriggles and shrieks as His Lordship’s hand comes down, I unzip my jeans and shuffle them down to my knees, dragging my soggy panties with them. There’s something wickedly lewd about sitting here with my clothes half mast like this, and the forbidden exposure only excites me more and makes my need to touch my body ever more urgent.

“Oh God…” I murmur vaguely as I slip my fingers between my legs and find my clit. It’s swollen and ready for my touch like a throbbing button. I flick it lightly and my vagina flutters dangerously. On the screen, the spanked girl tries to touch her own sex, wriggling her hand beneath her belly as she squirms and cries, but the Marquis pauses, mid-spank, and gently remonstrates with her.

“Come, come, Sylvia, you know you mustn’t do that. No pleasure until you’ve been a good girl and taken your punishment.”

His voice is soft, even, but shot through with sweet steel and authority. It pushes me closer to coming just as powerfully as the spanking show does. I suddenly wish I could get to know him better, and make this all real.

“Oh, My Lord…” I whisper this time, closing my eyes and turning on an inner video. This time it’s me across those strong thighs. Me, who’s writhing and moaning, with my bottom flaming.

Oh, the picture is so clear. And it’s the Marquis of today who’s doing the business, not the one in the video.

He’s wearing his usual outfit of black jeans and black shirt, and his beautiful hair his loose on his shoulders like sheets of silk. There’s a sly, slight smile on his pale, chiseled face, and his long, cultured hand comes down with metronomic regularity.

I’m rubbing myself hard now, beating at my clit, but not stroking the very apex of it. I daren’t, I’m so excited and I don’t want to come yet. In my fantasy, he allows me to touch myself while he’s smacking me.

I writhe and wriggle, both fighting the pleasure and savoring its gathering at the same time. I throw my thighs wide, rubbing my bottom against the seat of the creaky old armchair. The sensation of the smooth surface against my skin is even more pervy. I press down harder, squashing my anus against the leather. I imagine him spanking me there, and even though I’ve no idea what it would really feel like, I groan, wanting it more and more and more.

“Oh My Lord… do it… do it…” I burble, eyes tight closed and half out of my mind with desire and longing.

“Actually, my dear, I think you’re ‘doing it’ quite well enough on your own. Do continue.”

What?

It’s like I’m falling, dropping through reality into a parallel universe. I know what’s happened but somehow I can’t stop rubbing myself.

My eyes fly open though, and here he is.

The Marquis.

Somehow he’s walked into the room without me realizing it, moving softly on the rubber soles of his black running shoes.


---------------------

Uh oh, looks like Rose is in for it now, doesn't it? ;)


CHANCE OF A LIFETIME is available from eHarlequin, Fictionwise, Books on Board and Amazon Kindle.

Chance of a Lifetime by Portia Da Costa
Harlequin Spice Briefs ® 2008 ISBN 9781426824739
© 2008 Portia Da Costa
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher

All About Ravenous Romance

As most of you know by now, LUST BITES will be coming to an end soon. What's next for Jamaica Layne, you may wonder? Well, I'll be writing for an exciting new erotic epublisher, Ravenous Romance. Exciting why? Because unlike most of the other startup erotic epublishers out there, Ravenous was founded by a group of seasoned US print publishing executives, along with legendary literary agent Lori Perkins. In addition to a combined forty-odd years' experience in traditional publishing, the folks at Ravenous have startup venture capital and a very successful PR firm at their disposal----along with a distinguished stable of authors, several of whom are New York Times bestselling authors in other genres. Even more impressive, Ravenous has already built this set of credentials before they launch next Monday, December 1st with their first set of books and stories.


How do they do it, you might ask?



Well, first let me tell you a little bit about the books I'll have out from Ravenous beginning next month.


I've Been A Naughty Nurse, Volume 1 of the VITAL SIGNS series, will release on December 7. VITAL SIGNS can best be described as Gray's Anatomy with the sex left in! There are currently five books slated for the series, with new titles set to come out approximately every three months. No more waiting a year or more between print titles!


My other upcoming novel for Ravenous will be Knight Moves, an erotic time-travel romance. The heroine is a toll collector for the New Jersey Turnpike who just happens to get caught up in a time-vortex trap that sends her back in time to twelfth-century England, where she is made to work as a concubine in a powerful knight's castle. She learns to make the best of a bad situation, though, and not only has a grand old time, she falls in love with a fellow time-travel prisoner, foils her captors and manages to get herself---and her newfound love---back to their own century.

I've been very impressed with how professional and well-administered this new erotic epublisher is behind the scenes----but what about you, the reading public? I'm sure all our Lust Bites readers will be interested in just how this new publisher will distinguish itself, so I recently sat down for an interview with Holly Schmidt, one of Ravenous' founding partners and it's editor-in-chief.

Jamaica Layne: What is your prior publishing background? Why did you decide to start Ravenous?

Holly Schmidt: My publishing background is in non-fiction. I started my career at Rodale, where I ran the book clubs, then moved on to be Publisher of Fair Winds Press, a division of London-based Quarto Group, Inc. While I was there, I launched the Quiver sex imprint. Then I left to start my own book packaging company with an exclusive contract with Sterling Publishing, which is owned by Barnes and Noble. After 15 years in print publishing, I knew the time was right to make the leap into digital publishing, and (my longtime business partner) Allan Penn and I were exploring the romance genre about the same time legendary literary agent Lori Perkins contacted us with an idea for starting a new company. We hatched the Ravenous idea, researched and developed a business plan, were lucky enough to have the advice of great consultants from inside the e-book industry, and the rest is history.

Jamaica Layne: There are a lot of erotica e-presses out there. What will distiguish Ravenous from the pack?

Holly Schmidt: Look at how many print publishers there are. Look at how many Chinese restaurants there are. Generally, when there is a lot of competition, it means the market is viable. I would be much more worried if there weren't a lot of other e-presses. That said, it can also mean that the barrier to entry is low, which generally means the barrier to success is high. We will be distinguished by our product mix (audio, short stories, as well as novels), our pricing, our marketing, our visuals, and ultimately, the quality of our material and retail interface. I think, when we launch, it will be pretty clear how we're different.

Jamaica Layne: What can erotica readers expect from Ravenous? Will there be a unique"feel" to Ravenous books?

Holly Schmidt: Since Lori Perkins and I both have strong editorial backgrounds, our books are characterized by well-edited good writing. I'm not saying all of our books will win the Pulitzer, but you won't find a lot of sloppy passive voice or other amateur constructions in our work. Also, our books are story-driven. The sex scenes are certainly there, but they aren't the point of the books. The point is the love story, and the sex exists to further the plot and character development. We are also publishing some well-known authors who come from outside the romance genre, and they bring a different perspective as well.

Jamaica Layne: A lot of erotica writers read Lust Bites. What are you looking for from writers who want to submit to Ravenous?

Holly Schmidt:We're looking for creativity and good writing. Beyond that, we will consider all types of erotic romance. We don't publish straight erotica--there has to be a love story.

Jamaica Layne: I know Ravenous is releasing all its titles in both written ebook form as well as audio ebook simultaneously, which is unusual. What can you tell us about Ravenous' audiobooks?

Holly Schmidt: We're really excited about our audiobooks. They're being produced by the top audiobook production company in the U.S., who does work for Audible and the major NY trade houses. They're being narrated by professional actors, and they are of terrific quality. I think the audiobooks will bring this type of content to an entirely different customer, and will help to broaden the genre. It's been fun to hear from the narrators how much they enjoy the books, too!

Jamaica Layne: There seems to be a lot of mainstream media interest in the Ravenous launch. Can you tell us about that?

Holly Schmidt: We've been pleased with the response we've had so far, especially considering the website isn't live yet. We hope the buzz continues post-launch.

Jamaica Layne: How will Ravenous appeal not just to existing romance and erotica readers, but to a broader market as well?

Holly Schmidt: I think that our books, with a few exceptions, like the male/male and kinky ones, are pretty mainstream. They are very, very sexy and steamy, but they are great stories first and foremost. I think we'll attract a customer who might not think of herself as an "erotic romance" buyer, but who likes a good love story. And, ultimately, who doesn't? We have a number of well-known cross-genre authors who will bring a completely different readership to Ravenous, and we hope, will help increase the visibility and credibility of the erotic romance genre as a whole.

Jamaica Layne: Anything else you'd like to add?

Holly Schmidt: I think this business is ready to move beyond the wild-frontier stage. Ebook and digital audiobook sales are exploding, and print publishing is dying. I predict that in five years, the major retail chains (the ones left standing, that is) will have drastically cut their inventories, and will stock mainly best-sellers. Publishing will go from producing 150,000 books per year to 75,000, and it will be very difficult for new and midlist voices to be heard. I hope we can offer these talented writers a successful outlet for their work, one that offers an opportunity for creativity and keeps working writers working, without the environmental waste and exploding costs of print publishing.

There will be short intermission...

... while we try to restore full service to you. And find Jamaica...

Well I Never Did...

by Janine Ashbless

Alas, the final demise of Lust Bites is soon approaching ... and so much is left unsaid. You may not realise it but behind the scenes we're constantly discussing who is going to post on what, poking each other with ideas and trying to work out what it is that people really want to see. (We also worry about our deadlines and complain about the weather. See, it's all glamour in this business.)

Some of our plans do make the grade and crawl out into public view but some never got the chance. My Crush Wednesday post on Nice Guys will languish unwritten for example - damn-it, you all just wanted to gush about Bad Boys! My report on the Erotica 2008 expo (this weekend just gone) dropped dead the moment they confiscated my camera. You will never hear about my Kilt fetish. And the article on Minotaur Sex ... well, all I'm saying is you should all be very grateful...

And I've spent so many hours trawling the interweb for photos to use that I've got this virtual attic stuffed with pictures of various sorts: Coming Attractions, gratuitous man-candy, armpit porn and some serious weirdness. Since they're never going to see the light of day in an article I thought I'd pull some out from between the rafters, blow off the dust and let you glimpse what might have been. Or wonder along with me what the bloody hell I was thinking of, frankly.


Obviously some of these pictures were never going to appear because they were just too damn rude. I can't show you those. Not on a respectable blog like Lust Bites.

Others are good clean healthy fun. The Sports Council would certainly approve.

Other pictures ... well, there's just no excuse for this sort of thing:

A healthy mind in a healthy body?

Best to make sure.
Take a good close look.

I've asked the other Lusties what they've been saving for a rainy day ... so today's post is a special extending one - keep popping back during the day and hopefully there will be even more photos to make you blush, grin, wince or wash your mind out with soap.

Over to you, Lusties!

xxx

Janine

---

Madeline Moore here. What a lovely collection of pictures Janine! I have nothing of the sort to share, but I do have the following post, which was inspired by Kristina Lloyd's post on the word 'Cunt.' As you can see, I ran out of steam part way through, and it has languished ever since.

Fuck - an essay by Madeline Moore


I swore like a sailor until I met Felix Baron. He didn’t tolerate it from his wives or his children and he certainly wasn’t going to tolerate it from me. When Felix was a kid he spent two years in the British Army. It was then that he decided he wasn’t going to speak in such a filthy tongue. After he bested a couple of soldiers at fisticuffs, his position was accepted. When it was time to go home, more than one soldier came to him for help. ‘Hit me whenever I say fuck,’ they’d insist. In no time, their arms were black and blue. Not that Felix hit me when I said, ‘Fuck.’ He just frowned.

Since I was dedicated to being the perfect companion to him I stopped immediately. It helped that seeing Felix left me tongue tied. I rarely spoke above a whisper and then managed only the simplest, mono-syllabic words.

Felix wrote a short story in which the Master puts his slave up for auction because she has a ‘dirty mouth’. The story arrived via email, in parts. I almost wept at the part where the auction actually took place. Was Felix warning me that he’d leave me if I didn’t watch my mouth? In the end it turned out the Master was the man who’d placed the bid via telephone. So he bought back his own slave, properly chagrined. Surprise!

I’m not saying I’m not ever to use the word. It’s a perfectly acceptable verb. I’m simply being asked to use it correctly; not as an adjective or an adverb.

I’m a nut for language so that sits well with me. Also, now I have to think about my adjectives, which makes them more colourful and, always, more apt. What are, after all, fucking shoes, or fucking keys, or a fucking ice cream cone?

You’d think motherhood would’ve forced me to speak well. Actually, it did, but once my kids started using the word (they learned it at school, I swear) I’d been freer to use it again. Plus, I’d always peppered my speech with fucks among adults.

It was my generation that made it typical to see ‘fuck’ scrawled across walls, lockers, magazines, coming out of the tv, constant on the screen, bleeped out of interviews, and not bleeped out of interviews. We made the word a household name. Now what?

It’s a good hard word that probably doesn’t have its origins in ‘for unlawful carnal language.’ (Insert Bit on the etymology.)

And it fits well in fiction: (insert a coupla hot uses of the word fuck as a verb)

But it doesn’t belong before every verb and noun known to man...

Hmmm. I also tried to put together a post that would share our porno names with the world - but it didn't fly. Here's how it's done. Take the name of your first pet and add it to the name of the first street you lived on. Voila! All I can tell you is this:

Madeline Moore's porno name is - Muffy Lorette.

Janine Ashbless' porno name is - Maria Mavin.

Kate Pierce's porno name is - Georgie Dangan.

Madelynne Ellis' porno name is - Tinker Huntley Terrace.

Jamaica Layne's porno name is - Bluebell Hamlet.

I was gonna do some more fun things in the 'Name Game' post, I swear. But maybe it's just as well I gave it up when I did.

Next?
xoxo Madeline Moore

---

Hm, for my part, I guess you'll never get to see the Adventures of Erotic Writer Mum, complete with stick figure drawings in a comic strip style, or my post on dialogue featuring lots of film clips, *grin* including this one. Totally love this film. Note: Not work safe and somewhat gory and grotesque!



Suppose I can add a few of the piccies I'd hoarded too.

Oh, and this one, which I was saving for a post on auto-erotica.

Ah, yes, the things I watch in the name of research. Those who have read it may recall this scene in Phantasmagoria.

Best, Madelynne Ellis xx

---

Well there was this post I wanted to do about feminism and what it meant to women in the new century, but I was too scared to do it, because I 'suspected' (after the sex wars week) that it 'might' cause a few problems. But I still wish I'd done it.
and there were a couple of photos I hoarded all to myself because...well, I wanted to enjoy them all by myself.
There's this one:


I could've written a whole post about my love for David Beckham, and told you all about how I saw him play this year in Oakland California against the San Jose football team. And he took off his shirt and set up a goal for Landon Donovan-but I probably would've bored you with all that.




I definitely mentioned my love for Robbie Williams, but I don't think I shared this picture. It really should've gone into one of the bad boy posts. And I think that's about it from me! LOL
Kate Pearce xx

Coming Attractions

On Monday Janine Ashbless will start us off on an extended post of "Things we never got around to." Boo hoo. There'll be snippets of posts never finished from the Lusties and yes, of course, all the hot pictures of guys that Janine, and the rest of us, have been hoarding. Yum.


On Wednesday Jamaica Layne will give us the inside scoop on a new e-publisher called Ravenous Romance. Sweet!


And on Friday we get our last sexy excerpt post courtesy of Portia da Costa. She'll give us a nice dollop of her new novella, her very first Harlequin, a 'Spice Brief' called CHANCE OF A LIFETIME. Slurp.


This coming week - More mouth watering fare from Lust Bites!

101 Sexy Dares

by Olivia Knight

101 Sexy Dares is not a book for reading. Have a quick flip through, and there's nothing to read at all. Don't gnash your teeth or thrash your heels - reading can be overrated.

Here we are, reading:

Here we are, still reading.

Here we are, still reading.

When we could be doing this:

You can't read 101 Sexy Dares as you flip through, because all the pages are sealed. Here's what you do: tear one of the Dares from this book, read it in private...and then do it with your lover.

Once you've been dared, you have to do it! Remember that?

It's fifty-fifty, his 'n hers, so each of you gets to plan a delicious, erotically charged seduction for the other... and then be seduced yourself, week after week. (50 dares for him, 50 dares for her, 1 for both!)

And next thing you know it's this...



then this...



then this:

Yee-haa!

This fabulous and naughty book is put together by Laura Corn (insanely famous sex-advice-person and also the author of The Great American Sex Diet, 101 Nights of Grrreat Sex, 101 Nights of Grrreat Romance, 52 Invitations to Grrreat Sex, 101 Grrreat Quickies, and 237 Intimate Questions Every Woman Should Ask a Man) ~ and for the first time ever, she's invited guest authors to contribute celebrity dares, including Lusties and ex-Lusties Alison Tyler, Megan Hart, Olivia Knight, and Shanna Germain.

So today we're daring you, to dare us right back. Laura's offering the Laura Corn Waaay Too Much Fun Package, including 101 Nights of Grrreat Sex, 101 Nights of Grrreat Romance, and 52 Invitations to Grrreat Sex, to the person who writes us the most teasing, tantalising, fun-sounding dare. That's the hamper on the right, and you have today plus the whole weekend to dare us. (As always, multiple entrances are always welcome on Lust Bites - so dare, dare, and dare again.) Your dare should be no more than 100 words ~ but to get you in the mood, here's a taster of the kind of dare you'll get in the book.

Truth or Dare

(for BOTH)

I Dare You … to expose yourself ~ I Dare You … to be curious ~ I Dare You … to ask for it ~ I Dare You … to please each other ~ I Dare You … to smirk ~ I Dare You … to try something new

When you meet someone, they’re an undiscovered continent and every sudden sparkle promises a gold mine. You may think you know every gully now, but who knows what lies in the next valley? Beware: here be dragons. Truth is the most exciting and dangerous game of all. Dares can make you blush, squirm, and cross into uncharted territory. So remember – it’s a game. It’s play time!

The rules
1. Take turns to ask “Truth or dare?”
2. Only ask what you want to know.
3. All dares have to be sexual, lasting five minutes maximum (No daring each other to wash up!)
4. You can’t repeat a question or dare.
5. Agree in advance: if you choose “truth” and don’t want to answer, can you switch to “dare”? If you then don’t like the dare, can you go back to “truth” and answer the question?

What do you wonder, but shy away from asking? Maybe it’s “What’s your favourite fantasy?” or “What do I taste like?” Perhaps “Have you ever thought about trying…” or “How does it feel when I…” – fill in the blank.
What haven’t you asked for a long time, or ever? It could be “What’s your favourite song at the moment?” “Which room in the house do you like best?” or “If you won the lottery, what would you do?” Remember those fascinating conversations at the beginning, learning the shape of someone’s soul, life, tastes, past, dreams, and the odd little thoughts that skip through their head. Think of all the arbitrary things you’d love to know. People change and stay the same: there’s always more to find out.
What do you want each other to do right now? Are you brave enough to ask for it? The fantasy that makes you bite your lip could be a dare away. So could a foot massage. Expect to flush, laugh, splutter, get hoarse, and swop secrets.

Agree an evening and fix a nibbly, low-stress meal – bread and cheeses, a selection of tidbits from the local deli, or whatever is easy and tasty to snack on. Perhaps a bottle of wine will loosen your tongues. Set your feast up on the living room table, settle on the sofa, and ask “Truth or dare?”
Two hours later, your skin is warm from blushing and your stomach fluttering with giggles. You’re sitting bare-breasted, because he dared you to. He’s writhing with embarrassment and delight, demonstrating how to give a proper handjob – after all, he’s the expert. You’ve just discovered that one of you has a secret penchant for dressing up, that the other loves the idea of underwater sex, that your favourite flowers aren’t roses but poppies, that he pretends he’s a spy on the way to work, and that you both fantasise about surviving on a desert island. Your feast is half-demolished, abandoned. You pop an olive in her mouth, staring avidly, enthralled.
“Can I have a go?” you say.
More clothes come off. The sofa squeaks in protest. The game continues, breathless: Truth – what does this feel like? Dare – I dare you to lick my…
Perhaps; perhaps not. This is your game now – you make the rules.

Now over to you - write your 100 word dare for a chance to win 101 Nights of Grrreat Sex, 101 Nights of Grrreat Romance, and 52 Invitations to Grrreat Sex. Then nip over and grab your copy of 101 Sexy Dares for your lover's Christmas present and the only New Year's resolution either of you will need.

---

Technovirgin? Here's what to do!
• To see this post & people’s comments on the same page, click the title at the top of the post.
• To comment… • Click Post a comment. • Write in the box under Leave a comment. • In the Word verification box, type the funny word above: this proves you’re a person, not a machine. • Under Choose an identity, click Name. Write any name you like – but give us a name, so we can identify you as the winner! • Click Publish your comment. • To get back to the post, click on the title again at the top of the page.

---

P.S. Don't forget I'm reading in Oxford tomorrow!

Meet Olivia in Oxford ~ this Saturday

by Olivia Knight

Two things don't make you special in Oxford: being a writer, and having an Oxford degree. The person pouring your pint probably has 2 Oxford degrees and is working towards their third. The chap who's just rung up your copy of The Independent and your pint of milk is probably on his third novel - having branched out after winning a prestigious award for his poetry.

In London, you're never more than ten feet from a rat. In Oxford, you're never more than ten feet from a writer. Whereas the High Street and the Meadows have discreet blue plaques celebrating the balloonists, engineers, physcists, and chemists that hung out there, the discreet wooden plaques celebrating writers tend to appear in the pubs and bars.

Moral of the story? If you want to find writers, go to a bar in Oxford. More specifically... If you want to find this writer, go to a bar in Oxford this Saturday. And more specifically still...

The Corner Club on Turl Street, this Saturday 22 November 2008, all day from 10:30 am to 5pm but especially from 3pm onwards where I'll be doing a reading and book-signing.

All part of the Writers in Oxford Christmas Bookfair and perfect timing to do the rest of your Christmas shopping in the Covered Market just round the corner beforehand (and you can die happy once you've tried Chocology's very serious hot chocolate for people who are Very Serious about chocolate, also in the Covered Market) - plus the Corner Club (which used to be QI) is now a members-only (phner phner) private club, so if you've been hankering to see the interior of the prestigious enclave, now's your chance. Just say you're with me...

About 20 authors will be variously reading and signing books, including Frank Egerton, Peter Guttridge (author of the Nick Madrid series), Donna Dickenson, and me, Olivia Knight. I'll be got up in my finery, reading from The Ten Visions and signing books - copies of The Ten Visions will be available, but I'll also happily sign Enchanted, Magic and Desire, or - if you're the man above - your naked gleaming chest.

Here's the Oxford Times article and here's a helpful wee map. See you there!

Riding the Line-and ending it...

by Kate Pearce




This is the third book in the Turner brothers series of contemporary erotic Western romances I've written for the 'Cheek' imprint of Virgin Books. (won't you miss saying cheek imprint or is it just me?) It will also be the last-I think, in the Cheek line until further notice. Wow, was it me? Did I close the line?

Knowing that it was likely to happen made it easier to write this book. It gave me the chance to get a bit sappy and refer back to the previous characters and make sure that everyone knew they were happy and likely to stay together forever-ah...My first Cheek book was my first print book so I'm kind of sad to see the line go.


In this book we have half-brother #3, Dakota Scott, referenced in Where Have all the Cowboys gone? He's a good guy, much like his oldest brother, Grayson. Finding him a suitable heroine proved interesting until I chanced upon an episode of Celebrity Rehab and stared in horror at some of the D list celebrities as they tried to confront the mess they'd made of their lives. It was enough to make me pair the likeable sexy goody-two shoes Dakota Scott with the ex-child-celebrity from hell, Robyn Sparrow. She tests him, she drives him crazy and yet he still ends up loving her-and that, of course is really what she's been after all along.

Here's an excerpt from near the beginning of the book when Dakota has met a stranded Robyn in the gas station and offered her a place to sleep for the night. At this point she hasn't even told him her name...

She kept her hand on his flat stomach. “I said do you work out or are you naturally ripped?”
“I ride bulls for a living. I have to be fit or I’m dead.”
Uncomfortable with her scrutiny, he took a step back, difficult in such a small space. “Are you ready to eat?”
She blushed and stuffed her hand back in her pocket. “Yeah, whatever.”
“I’ll just grab a clean T-shirt.”
“Don’t bother on my account.”
She spoke over her shoulder as he followed her out into the main room. He found his duffle bag and hunkered down beside it to search for a shirt. Hell, was she coming on to him? Had he totally misjudged her? She sat back down on the bed, her body posture dejected. Dakota found an old white T-shirt and pulled it over his head.
“Look, if you’re hoping to earn some money here…”
She shot to her feet and stormed across to him. He stood up as well, unwilling to let her tower over him and flinched as she poked him in the chest.
“I am not a whore!”
“I didn’t say you were. I just want you to be clear about what’s going on here.” He met her gaze. “I’m offering you a place to sleep tonight, that’s all. I’ve never paid for sex and I don’t intend to start now.”
She raised her eyebrows. “So you must still be a virgin, right?”
Even though she was deliberately getting in his face, he caught the note of desperation in her voice.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m saving myself for marriage. It’s all the rage with us cowboys, now. That Brokeback Mountain movie was one hell of a wake up call.”
“You’re not at all funny, you know.”
She held his gaze, her luscious lips tightly pressed together as if she was afraid to speak again.
“Are you sure about that?”
She stepped back, wrapped her arms around her waist and sat down with a decided thump on the bed. He turned his back on her and continued to sort out the stuff in his bag. He put his toothbrush and shaving gear in the bathroom and filled up the coffee jug.


It's a road journey, a sexual tease and a love story all rolled into one. Writing it reminded me of those classic old black and white movies with loads of snappy dialogue and sexual tension to die for. I enjoyed the characters so much, unlike Helen and Jay in Roping the Wind whom I loved but who seriously gave me a headache.

And as this is potentially my last solo post here at LB, (sob) here's a bit more where she's still trying to get him into bed.

“Holy shit!”
Dakota leapt to his feet spilling coffee and crumbs everywhere. He glared down at Jane.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She looked up at him, her expression one of injured innocence.
“What do you think I’m doing?”
He sat back down. “Nothing I asked for, nothing I want.”
“You don’t want a free, no-strings-attached blow job?”
His cock did and stirred in anticipation. He forced his mind back to cold showers, injuries he’d sustained while riding, bleak winter landscapes. It didn’t work.
“Listen, Jane or whatever your name is, I’m tired. All I want to do is get some sleep and be ready to leave as soon as those guys fix whatever is wrong with my truck.”
“It’s Robyn.”
He frowned. “What?”
“My name is Robyn.”
Her hand slid up his thigh again and he clamped one of his over it.
“Whatever your name is, I still don’t want you.”
She started to cry, the tears falling down her frozen face. He wanted to howl. Why did women do this? Didn’t they know how unfair it was? Hell, of course they did.
“Don’t you find me attractive?”
“I don’t know you well enough to say that.” Her lip trembled and the speed of the tears increased. He hastened to continue. “I’m sure you’re a beautiful woman and that someday some guy will make you very happy, but it’s not going to be me.”
“But I don’t want to be happy. I want to make you happy.”
Her fingers moved again, came to rest perilously close to where his disobedient cock yearned to be serviced. He slammed his hand over hers again, cursing silently as he rubbed against his own half-aroused flesh.
“I’m perfectly happy just as I am, thanks.”
She moved closer until her mouth was only a couple of inches away from the fly of his jeans. He tensed as she pursed her lips and let out her breath.
“You sure look like you could do with a blow job.”
He gave up the struggle to restrain her hand and resorted to grabbing her by the shoulders and forcibly lifting her onto the bed. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her tears miraculously disappeared.
“You do want me.”
“Nope, my cock might because he’s got no sense, but I don’t.”
She cupped her breasts and rubbed her thumbs over her nipples. Dakota swallowed hard as his shaft throbbed and thickened in his jeans.
“Why are you doing this?”
She licked her lips, her gaze considering.
“Because I want to and because you’re here?”
He backed away until his shoulders hit the door frame of the bathroom.
“Sex should mean more than that, shouldn’t it?”
“Why? What’s wrong with two people whiling away a few hours fucking?”
Dakota folded his arms across his chest. Damn, he felt like her parent or something. Where had she learned such crap?
“If you don’t know the answer to that, I can’t help you.”
She knelt up, her hands balled into fists, her expression incredulous. “You think you’re too good for me, don’t you?”
“No, I’m tired, I want to get some sleep and that’s it.”


The bad news is that it isn't out until next Feb, so I don't have any to give away, although you can pre-order it
here in the UK and here for the U.S. I'll also be running some contests on my blog and newsletter, so keep in touch!

Winner of Frost Fair!

Thank you to everyone who participated in my Chilly Chat last week!

I put the names of all the commenters into The Hat - and it picked.......





Congratulations Jeremy. Please let me know if you would like either a download (which you can have very soon, as soon as I get the codes) or a hard copy, which will take a couple of months.

And enjoy!