In Honor of the San Diego ComicCon

In honor of the SDCC (San Diego Comic Con) that I can't attend this year, and probably never will, I thought I would answer a question I was asked the other day for this blog post.

What is your favorite fandom and why?

This is a hard question because I fall in love so easily, with everything and anything that is bold enough to snag my heart. Yesterday it was Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling's attempt to validate herself before she was thwarted. The day before that it was the tenth doctor with his crazy hair, converse, and goofy smile you can't help but love.

Today however it's Sherlock Holmes. Not one incarnation in particular, although both Johnie Lee Miller and Benedict Cumberbatch could warm my bed anytime, it's Sherlock Holmes all together as a character. I love the sarcastic remarks he makes that go way over everyone's head. I love his habitual cocaine habit that John Watson hates. I love how he has no interest in sex therfor he shouldn't be attractive to me as a character. I think I adore him because he is the opposite of me. I jump without looking, I miss the smallest nuances of politics or subterfuge in a conversation, I wear my heart on my sleeve and don't care who knows it.

There are so many lovely characters out there, for instance in my latest Decadent release, The Midnight Masquerade, the character I adored was Ash. He was inspired by a person I once knew, all passion and heat, someone I cared for and will never forget even if we aren't together. Characters, both real and made-up, are meant to have an impact on our lives and our minds. It's what makes books, movies, tv, and live fascinating.

So...go on with your fandom! Wear those TARDIS, Torchwood, Doctor Who, and comic book character X t-shirts with aplomb...and if someone at SDCC can get a video of Matt Smith saying 'Hi' to me I'll write my next book about you ;)

The History of the Masquerade

Buy The Midnight Masquerade HERE

By Monica Corwin

In the 15^th century Carnival season, in Venice, masquerade balls were the social events the royals paraded to. Many would travel far and wide to attend. The influence spread to the whole public of Italy in the 16^th century and still usually featured the upper class since they could afford the costumes.

The masquerade trend spread further to Europe in the 17^th and 18^th centuries and still to England in the 18^th century. There are quite a few occurrences of people being assassinated at masked parties. There are still masquerades held in Venice in honor of Carnival every year but a person is required to be in full costume of the time period of the ball and on the guest list. Tickets can run from 400 dollars upwards just to attend.

The Midnight Masquerade was inspired by both good and bad. I thought of the idea after re-reading Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘Masque of the Red Death’. While a masque is more of a pageant or concert then a ball it still had that air of mystery the masked people lend. In addition I wrote this story just after New Year where I attended a ball in Washington DC. Putting both themes together seemed like a logical conclusion.

I hope The Midnight Masquerade transports you to a mysterious and sensual atmosphere and I hope one day you can experience a masquerade for yourself.

Rumored to be the most debauched party of the year on the East coast, The Midnight Masquerade has only two rules: no one leaves and the masks stay on until midnight.

But what kind of trouble can Hannah and two handsome strangers make before midnight?

Excerpt:

Somehow, I’d made it to one of “the boxes” with Ashton Kane, only the mecca of debauchery in the entire country. Ben will never believe this when I tell him. I wished I’d had more to drink then maybe I might be a little smoother, more charming.

He drew me down beside him on the couch and ran a fingertip along the edge of my mask. It only covered my eyes and the top of my nose, but the detail work was exquisite. My whole outfit had been planned around it. Achingly slow, he removed his fingers and put them down in his lap. I stifled a whimper at the loss of that phantom touch.

“You look like someone kicked your puppy.”

I smiled, despite wishing he would return his hands to my face. “I liked that.”

Shifting so his knees aligned with mine, he traced a digit across my bottom lip. I stopped myself from sucking it in. There must have been something in the air because I wanted him, more than I had ever wanted another man. He continued to caress my top lip and my breathing started getting heavy, my panties already wet.

“You like that?” he whispered.

I nodded, not wanting to speak so he wouldn’t stop.

“Where else do you want me to touch you?”

“Anywhere you want.”

Good Girls Gone Wild

Buy Birthday Bash HERE

By Kelli Scott

I love me some bad girls. Strippers. Hookers. Criminals. Spunky, snarky kick-ass chicks who take no guff from anyone. Their tongues are sharp like a surgical instrument, cutting the villain (or hero) to shreds. They drag the straight-as-an-arrow hero off to the dark side, or at the very least to a dark corner with a crook of her finger and a come hither look. Okay, those are my non-erotic heroines.

Erotically speaking, I usually write good girls who take a walk on the wild side. Why? I’m not sure. Maybe to shake up their world and tilt it a little—just enough to throw her off balance or into the arms of a bad boy who knows his way around the female anatomy.

Meet Juli. It’s her thirtieth birthday. Is she drunk? No. Is she partying? No. She’s a sensible single gal. Works hard every day. Balances her checkbook once a month. Wears sunscreen in winter. So how did she end up on the TSA’s no fly list and why are there two cops on her porch? You’ll have to read Birthday Bash to find out.

How about you? Are you on team good girl or firmly in the bad girl camp? Leave me a comment (please include a contact email) and I’ll put your name in a random drawing for an ecopy of Birthday Bash.

Blurb: When TSA puts Juli Falzone on the no fly list, she is stuck at home for her thirtieth birthday. Until her doorbell rings. On her porch are two hot cops swearing out a warrant for her arrest. Are they a practical joke from her well-meaning friends, the best birthday gift ever or has her identity been stolen? Wanting answers and vindication, she lets them in. Can she talk her way out of the situation or will they make her come along peacefully?

Excerpt:

“No, sweetie. I’ve got to go. But I did send you a little gift. Enjoy.” Dara hung up.

Juli held the phone out, staring at it, bewildered by the abrupt brush-off. A phone call from Dara normally morphed into an entirely different version of The Never Ending Story.

Another knock brought her to her senses.

When she opened the door, phone still in hand, a summer breeze blew along her skin. Two police officers, completely opposite in appearance, stood on her stoop, stone-faced serious. The taller, darker cop had a white-knuckled grip on his nightstick. The other, shorter and fairer of hair and complexion, wore a pair of intimidating, mirrored sunglasses despite the darkness.

The taller officer cleared his throat. “Ms. Falzone?”

“Y-yes.”

“May we come in?” the shorter—just shy of six feet—blond man asked.

Her instincts said, no, don’t let them in. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, and they were peace officers. Maybe a crazed killer ran loose in the area, and they wanted to search her backyard, secure her locks and ensure her safety. But after the harrowing day she’d spent at the airport that morning, she was a quart low on trust, dubious of authority figures, and testy in general. 

Oh, what the hell.

She opened the door wider, looking past them to the curb. “Sure.” A streetlight shone bright on a sedan. No other cops appeared to be canvassing the neighborhood. The uniformed duo filed in, but she wasn’t in the mood to make a pot of coffee or answer a bunch of inane questions. She’d filled her quota for the day.

“What’s this about?” She closed the door.

“We have a warrant.” The tall man whipped out a tri-folded piece of paper like he meant business.

She scoffed. “A warrant. For what?” She put on her tough girl act, but had visions of spending life in prison. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Ever. Someone must have stolen her identity. First the no-fly list, now this.

The blond whipped off his shades, treating her to sky blue eyes. “Haven’t you?”

Dara always encouraged her to take a walk on the wild side. But every potential one-night stand date had struck her as a prospective serial killer or would-be stalker. She didn’t want to have regrets for living a boring life, but she’d seen too many friends, family members and co-workers make tragic mistakes in judgment. Unplanned pregnancies. Bad marriages. Worse divorces. Bankruptcies. She avoided all of the above.

“What’s the charge?” 

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It’s not all tentacles in Science Fiction Erotica

Buy Crash Landing HERE!

By Jessica E. Subject

When you look up ‘science fiction erotica’ or ‘alien erotica’ on Amazon, there are many stories there, but most of them involve tentacle aliens, alien abductions, and/or aliens using Earthlings as sex slaves. Well, in my alien erotica stories, I’m here to offer something a bit different. Not that I don’t enjoy a tentacle tales or two... But that’s just leading me into other story ideas.

Anyway, in my new release, Crash Landing, Cael is on a peace mission from Narien, but systems fail in his ship and he plummets toward Earth. It is not about aliens abducting us, but a lone extraterrestrial who crashes on our planet. He is inexperienced in so many ways, and when his ship crashes, he is left for dead.

Now, we usually expect the government to find an alien spacecraft before we have the chance to see or hear about it. After all, the military does have excellent aircraft tracking equipment. But what if that doesn’t happen? What if the spacecraft lands in lake? What if that lake is surrounded by woods and few if any people live up there?

Well, that’s where Cael lands. When he wakes, he’s not only surprised that he’s still alive, but also by what he sees his captors/rescuers doing.

Here’s an excerpt:

He rushed to the right, his rod too hard to wait. The slurping, sucking, and cries of pleasure continued as he reached the entrance behind which the action took place. The door ajar, he dared a quick glimpse into the room. With a gasp, he stepped back into the hall, but could not take his eyes off the sight in front of him.

With her rounded pink ass and swollen sex folds in full view, a woman went to work sucking off a man. The musky scent of her desire wound through his nasal passages and drew him closer. She rested on her hands and knees on a platform, while the guy kneeled in front of her. But unlike any beings he had ever seen on the vids of Earth, the guy had blue skin. Not his deep, almost indigo shade, but lighter, closer to the color of the water he’d landed in. Long blond hair flowed over his shoulders, onto his muscular chest.

The man held the woman’s shoulders with his webbed hands—yes, webbed hands—drawing her on and off his dick. “You have the mouth of an angel.” He threw his head back and thrust faster and faster between her lips.

The sight stimulated Cael. They weren’t trying to make babies; it seemed they were having sexual relations for pleasure. He yearned not only to bury his face in the wet pussy in front of him, but to taste the man’s blue dick, feel it inside of him. Back on Narien, he’d crafted his own devices made from the soft, flimsy bark of the totmos plant, to experience the pleasure both men and women felt in the stadium, why they cried out during mating, but never seemed injured. And learn he had, anxious to be ready when he reached his thirtieth year and was allowed to mate. He’d turned that age a half year ago, with no one on his ship to be his partner. Would he finally have an opportunity?

When the man lowered his head again, his brilliant blue eyes flashed open, fixing on Cael.

Oh shit. But he couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop watching.

The man slowed his movements to long drawn out strokes, but didn’t stop. “It seems our guest has finally woken up.”

“And?” the woman mumbled around his cock.

“He appears healed.” The man winked at him. “And from the hard-on he’s sporting, very anxious to join in.”

Crash Landing Blurb

As his ship plummets toward Earth, Cael believes his life to be over. His last ditch effort to save himself ends in a fiery crash. When he wakes up, he believes he’s entered the afterlife, but his surroundings indicate otherwise. He made it to Earth. But who saved him, and what do they want with him?

Now available from Decadent Publishing and other ebook retailers.

More information HERE! 

Giveaway!!

For your chance to WIN an ebook copy of The Power of Three, my other story from The Edge, be sure to a comment along with your email address. Winner will be notified on October 1, 2012.

Bio:

Jessica Subject started writing to encourage her daughter to read. Now she writes to keep herself grounded. Although she reads many genres, she enjoys writing Science Fiction Romance the most and believes everyone in the universe deserves a happily ever after. She lives Southwestern Ontario, Canada with her husband and two kids and loves to hear from anyone who has enjoyed her stories.

Website/Blog / Twitter / Facebook / Goodreads / Amazon

50 shades of WHAT?

Night of the Doms available HERE

by Erykah Wyck

What is it with the sudden influx of BDSM books? Is it really all of a sudden? Granted the success of certain books has made some authors jump in to try and grab their piece of the pie, but for some of us we have been writing and reading these stories in private for years. The difference—they weren’t out on the shelves at Walmart.  And they certainly weren’t mainstream.

The big question is, does having a book like this go so mainstream hurt or help the lifestyle and the genre? I think it’s a double-edged sword. I think anything that gets conversation moving is always good. When we bring things out in the open there becomes a better understanding and sometimes acceptance of differences—different strokes for different folks and so on. But there is something to be said for what will come—tons of knock offs, many very good and funny, and lots of badly written books just out to make a buck.

And what about being termed Mommy Porn? The erotic romance industry as a whole has spent years saying we are NOT PORN, but hot romance. Now there is the label of Mommy Porn and honestly I am uncertain how I feel about that label. How do you feel about the Label?

What ever your tastes just remember—READ ON!!!!!

You can find me

Facebook  http://www.facebook.com/#!/ErykahWyck

Blog  http://erykahwyck.blogspot.com/

Leave a comment about what you think about the sudden interest in BDSM…or is it Mommy Porn…let us know! One commenter will win their choice of one book from Erykah Wyck’s backlist.

Erotica is Not Eww!

 By Margie Church

I admit, when I first began writing romances, I was in love with purple prose. When I was working with my co-author on Razor, we read to each other. I thought I was going to die a couple times—both listening and reading to him. And then we'd burst out laughing because we caught ourselves avoiding "those words" as we talked about upcoming scenes. I'm a pretty private person and unless we're talking shop—as in the craft of writing—you're not likely to hear me using graphic language in a conversation. Well, maybe after a couple shots of Irish whiskey, one or two might slip out.

 It took some practice to become comfortable with using graphic language in my manuscripts and some words I rarely use because they make me wince. They throw me out of the story and for me, that's not a good thing for a reader to experience.

But I'd rather use the word cock than the phrase steel love meat. My apologies to those who use molten-hot love canal and moist nether regions.

After you've recovered from choking on your beverage, you kind of get my point. Sometimes a one-word adjective or noun is more erotic than some goofy sidestep around the real word.

The more experienced we get in our craft, the better able we are to convey some of these words and phrases in a way that entices or flat out makes you throb. Erotica is supposed to do that. Skilled use of dialog and setting can make even the C word make you suck your breath through your teeth, close your eyes, and think about saying that sentence to your lover the next time the opportunity arises.

So, I write erotic romance and some of it has reached bestseller status – like Night Music, my new erotic ménage for The Edge Series. Although this is a short story and The Edge Series has some wiggle room to break out of traditional romance guidelines, this is still a very romantic story. And it packs plenty of heat. From the sexy Aussie kiss on the dock through the sexual encounter of a lifetime, you might be thinking a vacation in the Blue Ridge Mountains is something you want to book soon.

NightMusic by Margie Church

A quiet, lakeside vacation is just what Brielle needs to decompress after her busy concert season. She expects the weeks to pass uneventfully. Until she meets the men next door.

Tyler and Zeke are as adventurous and sexy as the Harleys they ride. The passion they hear in Brielle's music draws them to her.

Convinced the hunks are gay, Brielle lets down her inhibitions. That turns out to be the best decision she's made in a long time.

Excerpt: Night Music by Margie Church

Brielle had stopped at the local market to get enough supplies for a few days. She had no intention of going to town unless there was a darn good reason. After her clothing and other belongings were unpacked, she opened a bottle of wine—one of several she’d bought—and contemplated the glorious evening sun.

The rumble of motorcycles disrupted her musings. She craned her neck to see who the offenders were.

Two men on leather-bedecked hogs cruised down the neighboring driveway. She watched from the seclusion of her covered porch as they got off and parked their bikes. Leather chaps covered their jeans. Boots and black leather vests made them look badass. She waited for them to remove their helmets and reveal more of their features.

She wasn’t disappointed.

One of the broad-shouldered men had flaxen hair. The second man ran his hands through his dark hair that reached his shoulders. Even from a distance, she could tell they were in good physical shape, and probably in their late twenties. A twinge of naughtiness plucked her libido. Her vacation was already looking up.

The bike-riding neighbors unpacked their saddlebags and carried their gear into their cabin. The door shut softly behind them and returned the peace and quiet they’d interrupted.

Brielle watched the sun dip lower, streaking the sky with brilliant red, orange, and yellow against the clear blue backdrop. The deep sounds of a motoryacht’s engines mixed with the haunting sounds from the loons.

Inspired, she refilled her wineglass, and then brought her cello to the three-season porch. She moved her bow across the taut strings, warming up, wondering what she should play. She sipped her wine while searching through her extensive music collection. Her hand rested on Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Did she dare? Could she play with even half the passion Mei Ju had the other day?

Closing her eyes, Brielle focused on the sounds and sight of Mr. Ju on stage.

Will that ever be me?

She drew her bow back and forth on the strings to play the fiery interludes and soulful chords. Brielle imagined herself in front of the orchestra, the way Ju had been, and did her best to do justice to the piece he’d played so brilliantly.

As she played the last, low note, she noticed the two men standing on their porch, watching her. Heat flared in her cheeks, whether from the exertion of playing or the embarrassment of their witness, she didn’t know.

One man began clapping.

Not expecting that reaction, she chuckled.

“Play something else,” said the man with the long hair.

Thinking they were making fun of her, she closed her music and stood. “Funny guy.”

“No, really, play some more.”

She contemplated the request for a moment. “You’re not going to call the cops?”

The blond one laughed. “Oh, hell no. Come on. Play something hot and sexy.”

Bolstered by their enthusiasm, she wondered what she could play that might fit the bill. “Just a minute.” A number of titles ran through her mind and she dismissed them all. Ah, the perfect one.

Buy Night Music at Decadent: http://www.decadentpublishing.com/product_info.php?products_id=597&osCsid=es36gda5ov6adolmon735ekvp4

Learn more about Margie at her website: www.RomanceWithSASS.com 

Leave a comment for a chance to win an e-book copy of Night Music! Don’t forget to leave your email address so we can contact you!

Night Music

by Margie Church

Any time of year, starlit nights draw me outside. You'll catch me staring at the moon, wondering who else is doing the same. And thinking of me? The stars have punched millions of holes in the inky-black sky. The crickets sing to celebrate while the owls and night hawks swoop through the sky like graceful ghosts. Add music. Whether the chirp of night birds and creatures, or classical music, ah, it creates passionate emotions for me.

So what does all this have to do with my hot ménage? Brielle is a concert cellist looking forward to spending a relaxing, peaceful, albeit celibate vacation in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her first night begins with a soulful stint on the cello and her sexy neighbors are drawn to the music and then her.

Have you ever imagined such a night?

She never has either. She's immediately attracted to Zeke and Tyler, but their playfulness leads her to believe they're gay. Oh, such a disappointment at first, but eventually she decides she'll enjoy their fun-loving attitude as long as she can. That's when the tides change.

Night Music is my first real ménage story. One of my other new books has a ménage scene, but Night Music was written as a delicious threesome. For those who enjoy M/M love, Tyler and Zeke definitely aren't bashful with each other. Judging from the smooth way they handle the situation with Brielle, they've played in a threesome many times before. For her first time with two men, Brielle couldn't have picked a better duo. They know exactly how to make her feel like the most desired woman on the planet. I think you'll find Night Music incredibly erotic as well as romantic.

Blurb: 

A quiet, lakeside vacation is just what Brielle needs to decompress after her busy concert season. She expects the weeks to pass uneventfully. Until she meets the men next door.

Tyler and Zeke are as adventurous and sexy as the Harleys they ride. The passion they hear in Brielle's music draws them to her.

Convinced the hunks are gay, Brielle lets down her inhibitions. That turns out to be the best decision she's made in a long time.

Contest: Does nighttime and music bring out the passion in you? Tell me your story and you could win a copy of Night Music.

Typical Ménage Fun

by Sascha Illyvich

My latest EDGE story from Decadent Publishing involves one hot, yet overworked guy, and his loving best friend.  Mark's workaholic habits have prevented him from seeing the subtle and not so subtle signs Treasure has given him indicating her desire for more than just friendship.  And she'd remained unaware of his hidden passion to have his hands all over her luscious body while he's buried deep inside until they both end up in a sweat covered climax.

When he shows up at her apartment, the last thing he expects after issuing her a dare to make him pay attention to her, is for her to actually carry out her threat.  When she shows up in front of him wearing sexy lingerie, the fun begins. Then things get hotter as a second, sexy friend of hers joins the fun and the three end up exploring the limits of each other's bodies.

EXCERPT:  

Mark looked at Treasure, wishing he could just fall asleep in beautiful pools of her eyes. Or swim naked with her. 

His cock hardened uncomfortably in his trousers.  Could Treasure feel his arousal?

Did she know the depths of wickedness he'd love to explore with her?

He fought a yawn from the overbearing heat and length of his flight.  Closing his eyes, he leaned back in the chair and let out a breath.  The hectic schedule his travel required of him would exhaust anyone. 

The fact that his property was in Kingwood, he had to fly into Houston Intercontinental and then drive all the way back to Sugarland where Treasure lived added to his building fatigue, but hell, he’d do anything to see her standing before him, looking at him with a hidden mischievous grin and her hands on her hips.  Nipples would ache for him and jut out proudly while her oh so kissable lips moved.

“I’ve got all sorts of ideas, babe.”

“I’m sure you do,” she nodded.  “Just come to bed when you’re done.”

She walked away, ass swaying from side to side with each step she took.  Hands reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head before she disappeared, leaving him with a view of tanned skin, no bra and the need to slake his own primal needs tonight.

“Damnit!”  Mark knocked back the drink and slammed the glass on the table.  He certainly didn't look forward to the next few weeks of very long Saturdays despite being so close to achieving his financial goals.  Not if Treasure intended to taunt him with hints at her naked flesh. 

He had to do something about his raging erection.  Maybe a cold shower.  Or maybe a long, hot shower featuring Treasure stepping into the large tub with him, setting her delectably round ass against his cock and coating his dick in her juices would... 

Sadly, Mark showered quickly, ignoring his hard on.  He dressed in pajama bottoms, a tank top that showed off his muscular arms and pale skin.  Bedtime included a nightcap, a large one designed to knock him out so he’d sleep without dreaming of Treasure’s body blanketing his while her pussy milked the life out of him. 

Mark slumped back in his chair, head hanging forward.  He took a sip of bourbon, let the liquid burn his throat before he took another longer swig.  Sitting up, he looked over the now neatly organized stack of papers

“Treasure?”

His lips curled upward. 

The bedroom door opened.  “Mark,” The soft lilting of her voice reignited the spark of arousal. 

Mark set his glass on the desk and waited.  “Yes dear?”

“It’s bedtime.  Come to bed.”

She sounded needy. Another man would have missed the subtlety of want in her voice.  “I have things to do before bed first.” 

“Then I’ll come to you.”  Her voice dripped with unmistakable husky lust. 

Mark arched a brow. 

A moment later, Treasure appeared before Mark wearing a black see through teddy that flowed out at the bottom with lace trimming and barely reached the top of her thighs.  A scrap of lace hid both nipples and obscured his view of her sex.  Dirty blonde hair fell around her shoulders in loose curls, bouncing with each step she took towards him.  Hands started at her shoulders, smoothed down her arms, over full breasts and down her round stomach until stopping at her hips. Treasure stuck one leg forward, took a tentative step closer to Mark and stopped mere inches from him. “Well?”

His jaw dropped.  He blinked several times to make sure he was seeing right before focusing on her expression. 

She frowned.  “You think I’m fat.  I knew it.”

“No!” He stood and took her hands in his.  His stomach tightened from the contact while his cock stirred against his pajamas.  Blood pumped faster down south and his mouth went bone dry.  “No, that’s not it. It’s just…just…wow Treasure.  I’ve dreamed of this for years.”

“What do you intend to do now?”  She tilted her head and her mouth curled into a wicked grin.

BUY TREASURE'S GIFT HERE