Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, September 23, 2014 ~ Flame of Hunger

Tantalyzing Tuesday beckons once again. Today a sultry, sexy seduction explodes into unbridled passion eager for fulfillment. Would you be as patient for your lover? Would you wait for the Flame of Hunger to extinguish in an impatient, eager embrace?  

In only 200 words, no more no less, see how this photo has inspired me. Then, take a leisurely sojourn to my tasty teasing friends to see what they crafted on this very sexy Tuesday. They are listed, one-by-one, below my piece. Wrap yourself in the seduction of the flames...and the rain. 
Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°

Flame of Hunger

The moon sliced a path of golden white across the bay waters to the boathouse where you found me waiting. I cannot deny you. The flame of hunger burned in my belly until sated by the passion for you that I endure.

I heard your approach on the footpath. With each step, my heart skipped a beat. Too long apart and too eager to wait, your arms found my trembling body, your hands my auburn curls and you crushed your hungry mouth on mine. Tongue sought tongue, in a magical ensemble of molten twists and turns. My knees betrayed me and I crumbled into your impatient embrace. You caught my descent, eased me gently onto the walk, and whispered your love for me.

Touch me

I arched my back into your hand, my body pleaded for your mouth. I opened my knees baring my passion: wet, yearning, quivering. Without pause, swiftly, you thrust your fevered shaft into my body and filled my need. Until, replete, the rain cooled our passion, we lay and listened to our one heart, beating with the rhythm of the surf.

Oh, so sweet the rain droplets puddled on my skin where your fingertips left a searing impression.

***
Have a peek at my saucy, steamy playmates and enjoy the fantasy read they have written for your undeniable pleasures:
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Friday, September 19, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday, September 19, 2014 ~ The Lifeguard

Flash Fiction Friday came so fast this week, but I don't want you to do the same! You know what we do on Fridays: you put your lips together and blow and we write a 100 word piece inspired by a common photograph. This week it is the photograph below.

What does it say to you when you look into this intimate moment? I'll tell you what it brought to my mind; read below. Then, do be a dear and have a jaunty saunter to their passionate pages to read what they have prepared for you, yes, just you!! You can catch the list below or at any of the links I have put delicately before your finger tips. But, before you go? Please leave me a comment and I'll try to think of a way to repay your kindness. 
Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°

The Lifeguard
The water was hot and piercing, a stark contrast to the cold surf.  His hands were everywhere, on every curve, gently caressing my skin with the soapy smoothness.  He bathed me tenderly and washed my hair. He rinsed my body thoroughly of the sand, grit and seaweed, running his fingers though my shoulder length curly auburn hair.  My skin was pink-blue from the cold ocean’s grasp and hot from the shower’s comfort...tingling.

He leaned across me, “Everything will be alright, now.“ 

His aroma was a warm, musky comfort: a manly mix of fragrance and ocean.

Then it was gone.  








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Thursday, September 18, 2014

Seduced by the Daredevil – Jorja Lovett ~ September 17, 2014

Seduced by the Daredevil – 
By
Jorja Lovett
(@jorjalovett)

Blurb
Sparks fly when 'Miss Stuffy Knickers' Andrea Bolan meets her match in daredevil Matt King. There's nothing quite like a passionate kiss to motivate a girl to jump off a building in the name of charity. With her inhibitions left far behind she begins to see the benefits of no-strings fun and sets her sights on her sexy abseiling instructor, but things don't go exactly to plan. 

Adrenaline junkie Matt fights his demons by living his life on the edge and an uptight dietitian definitely isn't his usual type. But, when they're thrown together at work there's no denying the chemistry. Lust is easy for him to deal with, but he doesn't do commitment. 

A sizzling affair catches them both by surprise but if they're not careful their pasts might just cost them any chance of future happiness.
 
 
Seduced by the Daredevil
Excerpt
Matt was eternally grateful he had bought the apartment close by, overlooking the River Lagan. He had enough trouble keeping his hands off Andrea for the duration of the five-minute journey. Small talk with a driver in no obvious hurry was the last thing he wanted, with seduction on his mind. He held it together until they pulled up outside the apartment block.

"Cheers, mate." He threw a few notes through the window and pulled a giggling Andrea from the passenger seat.

Lust fuelled their journey and they half-ran to the entrance of the exclusive new complex. The few steps leading to his front door were taken in such a frenzied rush to reach their destination that Andrea stumbled on those impossibly high heels.

"Are you okay?" On autopilot, he knelt down to her crumpled position on the step and carefully removed her shoe to check for any swelling.

"I'm fine." She giggled again and held up the broken heel of her shoe.

"Thank goodness that's the only casualty," he said, and swept her, and the broken stiletto, up into his arms to carry her the rest of the way. With one hand fiddling with the lock and the other cradling Andrea close to him, who said men couldn't multitask?

Once inside, he set her back onto her feet and closed the door shut with the force of his body pinning hers against it. He wanted her naked, and that damn sweater which had teased him all day needed to go. Andrea didn't resist when he lifted it to reveal the bounty beneath, but tugged at his T-shirt in response until pressing his naked skin to hers became as necessary as breathing. He impatiently hiked her top higher to strip her completely of it.

"Hold on a sec." Andrea's muffled voice came from the tangle of blue wool wedged around her head. He yanked until her head popped free, leaving that once-silky hair a veritable bird's nest.

"That's better," she said. "Now you."

He broke contact to get rid of the barrier, and those few seconds let him drink in the sight of her. In a white bra and jeans, hair mussed, and lips swollen from his tending, she was a far cry from the priss-miss he'd first encountered.
Man, what a turn-on.

The rapid rise and fall of her chest mesmerized him, but restrictive cotton denied him the full effect of her voluptuous cleavage. Eager to free her from all conservative binds, his fingers sought to unhook the fastening of her bra. A well-rehearsed tug and flick failed to open the catch, and he distracted her with a passionate kiss while he worked on it. First with one hand, then with two, he pushed and pulled to no avail.

Finally, he had to admit defeat. "I can't get this bloody thing open, Andie."

Resisting the urge to rip it off, Matt waited while she reached to undo it herself. She whipped her underwear off to release her pert breasts into view, and slung it in his direction. The bra catapulted directly into his face, the tail end popping him in the eye. Instinctively he clutched his eye and stifled a verbal wince.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Through a watery haze, he saw her hand fly to her mouth in horror.

"Don't worry, Andie. It's not your fault." He tried to blink back the watery sting to ease her guilt, but full apology mode had already kicked in.

"That was a stupid thing to do. I don't know what I was thinking."

His one good eye saw her bend to retrieve the makeshift weapon. She stood up and accidentally head-butted him between the legs, his groin suffering the next hit. His tongue nearly didn't make it either, he bit it so hard to stop from crying out. The crippling agony doubled him in two and he fought to breathe through it. When, oh when, had his tried and tested methods of seduction turned into a comedy of errors?

"Why don't we take this somewhere safer? Like the bedroom?" he asked in shallow bursts amid ragged breaths.

Andrea placed a self-conscious arm across her chest and limped to his bedroom, one foot shoeless and the other wobbling on a stiletto. He followed when the ache down below receded enough to allow movement.

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Author Bio
Jorja Lovett is a British author with both Irish and Scottish roots, which makes for a very dry sense of humour. Writing since she was old enough to wield a pen, it wasn't until she joined her crit group, UCW, that she pursued her passion seriously.
Now, with Joe Manganiello as her permanent muse, if she can leave the pause button on her Magic Mike dvd long enough, she hopes to spend the rest of her days writing steamy romances.
Author Links: Blog, Facebook, Twitter, Website



Romancing Robin Hood by Jenny Kane ~ Thursday, September 18, 2014

Romancing Robin Hood 
A contemporary romance novel
by Jenny Kane 
(@jennykaneauthor)

Blurb
Dr Grace Harper has loved the stories of Robin Hood ever since she first saw them on TV as a girl. Now, with her fortieth birthday just around the corner, she’s a successful academic in Medieval History, with a tenured position at a top university.

But Grace is in a bit of a rut. She’s supposed to be writing a textbook on a real-life medieval gang of high-class criminals – the Folvilles – but she keeps being drawn into the world of the novel she’s secretly writing – a novel which entwines the Folvilles with her long-time love of Robin Hood – and a feisty young girl named Mathilda, who is the key to a medieval mystery…

Meanwhile, Grace’s best friend Daisy – who’s as keen on animals as Grace is on the Merry Men – is unexpectedly getting married, and a reluctant Grace is press-ganged into being her bridesmaid. As Grace sees Daisy’s new-found happiness, she starts to re-evaluate her own life. Is her devotion to a man who may or may not have lived hundreds of years ago really a substitute for a real-life hero of her own? It doesn’t get any easier when she meets Dr Robert Franks – a rival academic who Grace is determined to dislike but finds herself being increasingly drawn to…


Romancing Robin Hood
Excerpt
It was all Jason Connery’s fault, or maybe it was Michael Praed’s? As she crashed onto her worn leather desk chair Grace, after two decades of indecision, still couldn’t decide which of the two actors she preferred in the title role of Robin of Sherwood.

That was how it had all started, ‘The Robin Hood Thing’ as Daisy referred to it, with an instant and unremitting love for a television show. Yet, for Grace, it hadn’t been a crush in the usual way. She had only watched one episode of the hit eighties series and, with the haunting theme tune from Clannad echoing in her ears, had run upstairs to her piggy bank to see how much money she’d saved, and how much more cash she’d need, before she could spend all her pocket money on the complete video collection. After that, the young Grace had done every odd job her parents would pay her for so she could purchase a myriad of Connery and Praed posters with which to bedeck her room. But that was just the beginning. Within weeks Grace had become pathologically and forensically interested in anything and everything to do with the outlaw legend as a whole.

She’d watched all the Robin Hood films, vintage scenes of Douglas Fairbanks Jr and Errol Flynn, Richard Greene, Sean Connery, and Barry Ingram. As time passed, she winced and cringed her way through Kevin Costner’s comical but endearing attempt, and privately applauded Patrick Bergin’s darker and infinitely more realistic approach to the tale. Daisy had quickly learnt to never ever mention Russell Crowe’s adaption of the story – it was the only time she’d ever heard Grace swear using words that could have been as labelled as Technicolor as the movie had been.

The teenage Grace had read every story, every ballad, and every academic book, paper, and report on the subject. She’d hoarded pictures, paintings, badges, and stickers, along with anything and everything else she could find connected with Robin Hood, his band of outlaws, his enemies, Nottingham, Sherwood, Barnsdale, Yorkshire – and so it went on and on. The collection, now over twenty years in the making, had reached ridiculous proportions and had long since overflowed from her small terraced home to her university office, where posters lined the walls, and books about the legend, both serious and comical, crammed the overstuffed shelves.

Her undergraduates who’d chosen to study medieval economy and crime as a history degree option, and her postgraduates whose interest in the intricate weavings of English medieval society was almost as insane as her own, often commented on how much they liked Dr Harper’s office. Apparently it was akin to sitting in a mad museum of medievalism. Sometimes Grace was pleased with this reaction. Other times it filled her with depression, for that office, its contents, and the daily, non-stop flow of work was her life – her whole life – and sometimes she felt that it was sucking her dry. Leaving literally no time for anything else – nor anyone else. Boyfriends had come and gone, but few had any hope of matching up to the figure she’d fallen in love with as a teenager. A man who is quite literally a legend is a hard act to follow...

***
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Author bio and links
Jenny Kane is the author of the contemporary novel Romancing Robin Hood (Accent Press, 2014), the best selling contemporary romance novel Another Cup of Coffee (Accent Press, 2013), and its novella length sequel Another Cup of Christmas (Accent Press, 2013)
Jenny’s first children’s book, There’s a Cow in the Flat (Hush Puppy Books) will be released later this year, and her third full length romance novel, Abi’s House (Accent Press), will be published in Spring 2015.
Keep your eye on her blog at http://www.jennykane.co.uk for more details.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Tantalyzing Tuesday Teaser, September 16, 2014 ~ Fated Souls Collide

Tantalyzing Tuesday inspires me in love, still. I have had a week or more of thinking, breathing and tasting love. I am still inhaling the warm, enticing aromas of love, so I thought about where love comes from, and this is what I wrote. I hope you enjoy my 200 word taster based upon the photo below.

After you have read my small piece, please shoot over to my co-writers blog pages to read what they have prepared for you. It is sure to be a delight and there are several ways to get there: by the links above and below or I have them listed like galaxies, one by one, for your pleasure......and mine!  Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°
  
Fated Souls Collide
Souls, a collection of kinetic energy, soar through the Universe until that moment, that one cataclysmic moment in time when the magnetic connection electrifies two lovers to join as one. There is no decision, no hesitation, no denial that the destiny of two is one, joined by God and Nature.


Seduced by Fate, suspended in Time, and determined by Destiny, all souls swirl in a tornado of attraction throughout Infinity, until lovers embrace in a providence of passion and entwine in the preordained order of the Universe. The psychic value of insight, awareness and enlightenment unite to open the doors to a lifetime committed to one conjoined heart.

A glance, a touch, the musky aroma of perfumed air surrounds and envelopes the pair until no thought of resistance exists. The thread is woven between the souls, connected by one beating heart, tethered for perpetuity.

Love is a uniquely independent state of consciousness that is sustaining, nurturing, subjugating and sacrificial for it is because of the other that we live and thrive; it is for the other that we empathize, forgive, and surrender.

Without love, there is no life as love alone ignites the breath of life as fated souls collide to kiss into Eternity.





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Friday, September 12, 2014

Flash Fiction Friday, September 12, 2014 ~ A Love So Light in Darkness

I love Flash Fiction Friday and this week I honor the new beginning of each new day and also each arriving, recuperative night. A marvelously talented group of authors congregate every Friday around a single photo prompt to write a limited 100 word inspiration piece we call flash fiction. Our photograph this week is below. How does she speak to you? She conjured up Mother Nature to me.

Mother Nature is a beautiful woman and mother to us all. She nurtures, restores, replenishes, reprimands and shows us her restorative love, and occasionally her wrath, unselfishly with the turn of each day and night. So, I hope you enjoy this wee 100 words. ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°



A Love So Light in Darkness

The platinum orb rises slowly above the burning, flaming horizon. The moon so loves the sun because it dies each day that the moon may rise another night to honor the darkness.

She blossoms as the day withers and fades into the black satin folds of the moon’s embrace. Like the moon, she is refreshed in the shadows, adorned by diamonds and surrounded by glittering, shooting madness.

Her joy ignites as the stars unveil their jewel-like splendor.

Inevitably, a midnight tear bids adieu to a love so light in darkness with the fall of the morning moon to welcome her fiery radiance anew.

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Thursday, September 11, 2014

A Taste of Thursday, September 11, 2014 ~ Taylor Savior "Fervent Feral Dance"

A Taste of Thursday brings us another installment from my WIP, Taylor Savior. You'll remember that this is an erotic adaptation of the Grimm's fairytale, The Giant and the Tailor, for Decadent Publishing. The music today is Christina Perri, "A Thousand Years" from, of course, Twilight. Have you waited for love and promised a lifetime? I have.

Please visit my writer friends posts on their works in progress. They are delicious and fat free. You can visit them at the link above or below and I have listed them by name so you can go right to your favorite author, after you read me, of course.

Aynne has come to Chicago to see her lover of 10 years prior for help. They have not seen one another since the one night they were swept away in one another's arms in the Whitcomb Hotel. Not unlike the historic hotel, will they discover that their love as stood the test of time? They meet in Simon's office, Chicago headquarters to his philanthropic efforts in the arts and music. 

Will Simon be as generous in private as he is in public? Aynne drifts into a daydream and back into Simon's arms 10 years prior; she reminisced while Simon's assistance gets them both coffee, shhhhhhhhh......let's see what happens next. Enjoy ~  ☼ o√ ¸.¨¯`*..*˜"*°

Read Previous Installments Here:
First    Second     Third     Fourth     Fifth      Sixth


Fervent Feral Dance
And then, there was no turning back, they did not wish to - nor could they stop if they did. They both began to cum; to fire, to launch, to leave the earth and leave their feet, their bodies a single rocket that screamed for release.

His cock deep, deep into Aynne wracked, lurched, and spasmed as he came in tidal waves of scorching orgasm. Simon shot two - three - four long streams of his hot eager seed up and up and up into Aynne as he buried his face in the auburn curls that framed her face and fell like an embrace along her shoulders.

Aynne felt his fluid heat ignite the path to her heart, to her very essence and she was pinned to the wall, suspended, unable to do anything but ride out this cataclysmic rush of fire and ice; love and lust.

And the fire of truth was…. Oh God, Aynne shuddered, trembled and felt the torrents begin in mounting rolling contractions, I am going to cum forever and ever in your arms.

They were awash in their own juices and they pooled - yes, pooled - at their feet as it joined and ran down their legs in the dim glow of the moonlight in that hotel room.

Oh MY GOD, Oh yes, oh yes, oh no, don’t ever… ever... ever... stop.

But they stopped, to breathe, hearts pounding as one, still against the wall.

Simon pulled away, slowly, from Aynne and looked into her just-opening eyes. They did not speak. He tenderly moved her wet, tangled curls from her face flushed with perspiration and eased his cock from her now clenched pussy. He slid slowly down her body, hands exploring every curve and knelt before Aynne at the fleshy alter of their pooled juices. Simon licked slowly, up the insides of her thighs, taking the proof of their love into his mouth. He held her tipped hips with his thumbs as he cupped the soft pale orbs of her ass. He continued his journey up to Aynne’s still parted, engorged and inflamed ruby red lips inside the tender mound nestled between her thighs. He looked up at her, smiled, slid his thumbs toward her tender petals then opened her further with his tongue. Simon sucked what remained of their mingled juices as he kissed her intimately - deeply - tenderly.

    Aynne gasped and grabbed Simon's head between the palms of her hands. She wanted to stop the careening, the volatile collision of passion and pain. But, instead, Aynne pulled his head in tighter to her pussy while he buried his face in the private moments of his kiss.

He drank deeply from Aynne of their love and it slid around his eager, hungry lips. Simon rose to his feet and kissed Aynne deeply, so deeply the evidence of their love, their cum, passed between their lips from his mouth to hers and back again as their tongues teased in a tight tango. Both their mouths feasted upon their love, as lips savored flavor and eyes memorized every exchanged nuance. Their tongues locked and entwined, again, in a slippery, fervent feral dance. He push up against her, kissed her through eternity and they were alive. They were there, together as one… and he was hard yet again. Simon lifted Aynne in his arms and carried her to the bed, laid her down and settled heavily between her legs. Alive, intense, insistent with hearts beating in a harmonic rhythm as one. She gave herself over to her desire, to his passions, nay, he took her that night ~ again and again and again. She willfully abandoned herself to his touch, to his desire, to his kiss and his will.

Aynne's surrender was complete, total, voluntary with not a thought to anything but this moment, this floating, magical, mystical moment in time where nothing but love could thrive in the intensity of the heat. Her body demanded, commanded, ignited the night. Aynne's world changed in unforeseen directions from that lustful starlit moment forward.

    Aynne was in love. 

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Deborah's Theme ~ Once Upon A Time In America | Ennio Morricone