Monday, May 31, 2010
Promotion alert! Promotion alert! I finally got the release date for my newest novel, Magician's Chains, my male/male fantasy BDSM romantic erotica. JUNE 16th ladies and gentlemen. Mark it on your calendars. And here is the lovely cover. Alluring huh?
Before I get on with the second installment of my free story, SLAVE TO THE CIRCUS, which I began two weeks ago, I wanted to include the blurb for Magician's Chains below:
Jesse and Savin shared one strange, hot kiss and an even stranger mystical connection over a decade ago. Now reunited at a BDSM-flavored erotic magic show in Las Vegas, Jesse finds Savin performing as the Dominant magician. He's one sexy, powerful package, and Jesse fights the call to expose himself to Savin, giving up body, soul and heart. But dark fae nightmares prophesy a more dangerous magic than stage tricks at work as their lives collide.
Jesse has given up on his dreams after a personal tragedy. Savin's only dream is to be human, although he is not. Drawn to one another, the men enter into a weekend Master/slave contract. In Savin's chains, Jesse submits, letting loose destructive passion and grief. Both resist the craving to make their bond permanent, sure that if they do they place one another in jeopardy. If they cannot accept the magic they create together, and their joined destinies, the survival of two worlds will be at stake.
Sounds fabulous, no? Visit the Ellora's Cave coming soon page to check out the excerpt.
Okay, now that that's out of the way, I'm going to continue my free futuristic menage BDSM story, SLAVE TO THE CIRCUS with the second section. If you want to reread or catch up on the first installment, you can find it earlier in this blog at: http://naughtyauthorchicks.blogspot.com/2010/05/slave-to-circus.html
PART TWO, SLAVE TO THE CIRCUS BY MICHELLE POLARIS:
(We left Duncan and Raven finishing their confrontation outside the big cat cages of the Cirque.)
Duncan forced himself to turn and walk away, away from the hard muscled body underneath the tight black clothes. Not a strongman build, but compact sinuous muscles, like the cats for which Duncan cared. And as equally lethal. Duncan knew it. He'd made it his business to identify predators. The half-smiling face was a poor mask to cover this guy's danger. He hated admitting it turned him on. A damn idiot to respond to the Dom signals. He never intended to give the man what he wanted. And the clown's interest made him edgy, freaked him out.
Duncan had a difficult enough time accepting Vivi's attention. One day she'd look too closely at him and everything would break apart. He'd take what he could get until his luck ran out.
He wound his way through the frenetic crowds back to the big top, pushing through the plasti flap and hearing the zap of mutable force field fold back into place. He slowed his pace to get it under control before he reached the far side of the arena where Vivi went over the final prep for her act.
Her dark head was bent in conversation with Pietre, her brother and assistant. Sparkling microchip paint covered her lush curves, the thick application pulsing on her skin with gemstone colors that flashed across the color spectrum. The tech paint application went from neck to ankles like a liquid glove, stopping above her stiletto-encased feet. The black daggers of those heels contrasted with the brightly shifting sparkle. She wore nothing beside the paint. Every firm and rounded inch of her glory on display. Her hard pointed nipples jutted proudly from her breasts. Vivi never made excuses for how much of life was a turn on for her. Just breathing aroused her she claimed. Perhaps because she knew with certainty she met the universe on her own terms and that if the universe was smart it listened.
He approached her from behind, but as always, no matter how focused her attention on her work or conversation, she knew he was there and spun to him, smiled that fucking killer welcome that promised sharp lovely torment along with her love.
He closed the last distance and cradled her chin in his hands, bending for a deep, too urgent kiss, the throb of his cock and marathon beat of his heart stepping up pace.
After tasting her, loving every damn moment of her tongue dancing with his, she used the hands she'd rested on his hips during the embrace to squeeze for his attention. Nails dug into hipbone under the waistband of his pants where she'd insinuated her fingers. Her slightest push away warned him he needed to retreat. Duncan broke the kiss, hating to separate and wanting to lose himself in her, maybe even feel her punishment for her forwardness, but knowing she wouldn't put up with this desperation shit for long. He didn't even understand it.
"What's wrong?" Her velvet gaze burrowed into him, assessing, although the question came with genuine concern.
Her lips turned down. "No lying to me, pet. All that results in is your ass too tender to sit for a week."
A throat cleared behind them. Shit. Raven. "Am I interrupting?"
Duncan's gut flipped and he worked like gangbusters to keep his scowl off his face. His jaw ached with the effort.
Vivi's eyes slit with interest at his reaction. Guess he hadn't buried it as fast as he intended.
She feathered one last caress on his cheek and turned to Raven. "Yes, you're interrupting."
"Ah, so sorry Vivi. You keep so busy, it seems there's never a good time for this discussion."
He'd strangle the clown if he used her first name so familiarly again. Sounding like a sensual endearment rolling off his tongue.
"The discussion being?" she asked.
The growl leaked out no matter how Duncan willed himself to swallow it.
Vivi's gaze whipped back to him, digging deeper. After a moment she rested a hand on his shoulder. "Down on your knees, pet."
Fucking A. Now? With him watching? But he knew better than to refuse. It hurt too much to do it. And not from the punishment either, but from disappointing her. If he could just get her alone.
"Calm, pet." She ran stroking fingers through his nape-length hair, brushing elegant hands down his neck across his shoulder blades and back up again. A path of gentle press meant to soothe.
Gods, she always knew, didn't she?
After his muscles unclenched enough to keep him from bursting something, she faced Raven. "And about Duncan? You've upset him. I'd appreciate an explanation. Now."
Raven made a half bow. "Apologies Mistress. He grew upset after I informed him I would be applying for your consideration."
Her eyes raked the harlequin head to toe, then flicked to Duncan where he knelt. Duncan should have trained his eyes to the ground, but he was too damn pissed to do it. He needed to watch her reactions.
"You're applying to serve me?"
"Not as such, but I will if it buys the lady's favor."
Again she glanced back to Duncan, her expression puzzling over his attitude, a corner of her mouth quirking up into amused realization. "You want permission to play with my pet."
Her eyes glazed for an instant as if watching some internal vid that caught her interest. The beat of several seconds passed, her smile disappeared and all signs of playfulness disintegrated. "Your request is the height of rudeness, Raven. Done at an inappropriate time and inappropriate place. Duncan is not a toy I lend on a whim. Not a toy at all."
Got that straight.
"I'm not assuming he is," Raven answered. "And the lack of appropriate time and place is exactly the point, Vivi. Both your schedules are so busy there is no luxury of perfect opportunity. Duncan is suffering from the neglect. I suspect you are as well."
Vivi turned to her brother. "You'll excuse us, Pietre."
Pietre rolled his eyes, but walked away to inspect the target stand they used in the act.
Once he left, Raven stepped back and made a more sweeping bow, arms flourishing in regal yet sensual gesture as if to showcase his person. "I offer something you both need. My specialty is play, madam. Fun. Indulgence. The pair of you are so harried by your schedules and the increasing demands of the Cirque while Andreil pounds away to increase profits that you have barely enough time to attend to him." He nodded in Duncan's direction.
Duncan refused to keep his mouth shut longer. "Vivi. Ignore the idiot. He's making no sense."
Fuck those too intense eyes. Fuck the man.
Before Duncan blinked the harlequin had grabbed his arm, raised it with fingers digging into flesh above his elbow. Raven's mouth twisted in displeasure, the first sign of irritation Duncan had seen the man allow himself. "Do you notice the claw scratch, Mistress?" He twisted her title with the smallest hint of derision. "I've watched him this past month. He's driving himself too hard. The injury came from carelessness due to exhaustion. Your pet is unhappy. He's restless and has nothing to focus him but more work because you have little time to spare. The fool is begging Andreil to let him add more felines to his act when he's barely on game enough to attend to the ones he has."
Duncan jerked his arm out of Raven's grip, but when Duncan turned to Vivi he found her expression a storm cloud of irritation, although aimed at him not the clown.
Although she bit her response out to Raven between clenched teeth her gaze was all for Duncan. "You are a bastard to judge my care of my submissive."
But worry was in her eyes. Shit!
With tight tenderness she reached for the arm Raven had gripped. "The cats did this to you?"
"Yesterday. It's nothing. A scratch. Anyone working with big animals receives one from time to time."
"You asked Andreil for more animals?"
"It's who I am, Vivi. Please, I don't know why this asshole is stirring things up, but I'm happy as it is. I love serving you. Taking care of you. I want your touch, our scent, your cuffs every damn night whether I actually sleep next to you or not."
She drew a long finger down the ridge of his nose. Sighed. "So sweet, pet. But it's my job to consider your welfare." She turned to Raven, tilting her head, assessing the man. "I don't like how you've handled this, but I will take your words seriously."
"And about my request?"
"Your eyes are keen, but you've made little real argument for giving you privileges to what is mine. I don't know you, Raven."
"Then find out who I am."
"Why do you want him?"
Raven examined him again, a smile kicking up his lips. A look of wicked dangerous hunger painted in it. Sending an unwanted shiver down Duncan's vertebrae. Brutally stripped bare by the inspection, every skin cell evaluated, judged. Found out.
"Because he's beautiful, strong, intelligent, caring and has has such potential to drop so deep into his submission it's breathtaking."
Bullshit. Duncan knew his worth. Better than anyone.
"All that from observing for a month?" she asked.
"I've been a careful observer. And the lady has such fine taste I know I must be onto something."
"Do you always flatter your submissives into your bonds, Raven?"
"Why, do you want to submit to me, my dear?"
"In your wildest fantasies."
"Why yes, exactly."
Her head tilted back and a wild, throaty laugh escaped her. He hated that she laughed for the man."
"Who are you really Raven?"
The painted man shrugged. "Tis a mystery."
"Well since I love a mystery I suppose I'll have to strip you bare later and solve it, throwing the gauntlet as you have."
She reached for the sheath of her knives where it lay on a side table. She withdrew a dagger, examining its point with her finger. "I have work to do."
The mocking in his words slitted her eyes again. "Watch yourself, clown. I can play nice or nasty, but I always play hard. And I keep what is mine."
Her eyes moved to Duncan.
(To be continued next time....)
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Randall thinks Lindsay Taylor is sexy as hell, but she stays clear because he’s the boss’ son. When Lindsay is in a car accident, Randy throws all his rules out the window to be at her side. They share a heated kiss, but for the weeks she’s on temporary leave Lindsay ignores his calls. Now that it’s her first day back at work, he plans to convince her they’re meant to be together. When he finally gets her alone he shows her all the physical pleasures she’s been missing out on. But can he convince her he’s playing for keeps?
Like I said, this little story is free! Doesn't get much better than that. Here's the link for more information. Enjoy!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
It's something many of us do--and usually we do it to ourselves. Maybe it's because we're wearing many hats these days. Maybe we don't want to disappoint others. Maybe we just throw ourselves enthusiastically into whatever comes out way.
We're mothers, daughters, wives, volunteers, employees or employers, and to top it all off, some of us become authors.
How in the world do we do it? I don't know. I'm still trying to find the balance. Lately, I've managed to sign myself up for 22+ guest blog posts, five booksgings, and a reader/author weekend. Even planning a family celebration for my first mass market paperback release seems like too much right now.
Yup, I'm beginning to crack. I can feel it. So, how will I get through the coming weeks without imploding, exploding, or drowning in a vat of wine? Hellifiknow...I guess I need to remember to be grateful. I could be feeling the pressure of illness, unemployment or the death of a loved one. Instead I'm digging my way out from under an embarassment of riches.
Strange Neighbors was released a week ago. It came out a week early, and I was just as surprised as everyone else! But again, a much better problem than the opposite! It has been receiving wonderful reviews and that means I have loads of thank you notes to write. Again, probably the best correspondence there is. So why am I complaining? I'm not--not really. I'm probably the luckist woman alive right now. But I'm trying to remind myself (and you, by virtue of this post) to take it a little easier.
Cut back where possible. Treat yourself well. Enjoy the ride, but remember to pace yourself. Breathe. Summer is fast approaching and hopefully that means some of you will be on vacation. I vacation in the winter and treat myself to a week of sunshine during an otherwise cold, dreary time of year. One of the things I love to do on vacation is read.
My book is being hailed as a great summer read. I was interviewed for a NH newspaper article which comes out tomorrow. The reporter read it and decided to recommend it as a great escape. Just pure entertainment and fun. I'm happy I was able to write something like this. You know what? I don't even have time to buy a copy of the newspaper! I asked a friend to save hers for me so I have one for my scrapbook. Meanwhile, I hope it's on-line. At least I can read it when everyone else does!
If you'd like to look for it, here's the link: www.nashuatelegraph.com/
Wishing you a relaxing weekend!
Friday, May 28, 2010
Here's the blurb!
When romance author Simone Kent reluctantly turns to a consulting editor for some help with her latest book, she has no intention of falling for him, especially since she hasn’t had much luck with guys. After meeting him for coffee, however, she thinks she might just have found the most perfect guy in all of New York City in bed and out of it.
Drake Parrish is about as far perfect as any man can get, though. Eight years ago, he seduced a girl for the fun of it, then cruelly broke her heart. For his crimes, he was cursed by an evil Voodoo priestess to live part of his life as a zombie. Since then, he has lived like a recluse on New York’s Upper East Side, afraid to go out for fear he’ll suddenly turn into one of the walking dead.
Being with Simone reminds him of everything he was forced to give up and Drake finds himself feeling things for her that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. When the Voodoo priestess learns of their relationship, however, she comes after him again, this time with her horde of mindless zombies. She doesn’t believe Drake has paid for his sins and is determined he won’t have a future with Simone, even if that means killing the woman he loves.
And for another sneak peek as well as a glimpse of the hunky hero, visit my website and click on "Coming Soon!"
"Stories so hot, they'll make your cheeks blush!"
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Eve wrote in her diary:
He was a large man with big hands and a powerful voice. His presence overwhelmed me. I witnessed up close the intense energy flow he maintained with his big cats, connecting with them with his mannerisms, the timbre of his voice, the silent commands he gave them with his clear blue eyes.
He exuded a feeling of strength and invulnerability I shall never forgot…
Then a beautiful dark-haired beauty showed up in his tent, demanding he fire me and take her back as his assistant.
No, he told her. She must choose between her Nazi friends or him. She couldn’t have both.
She refused, saying that without the support of her “friends,” the circus would be shut down.
She left in a huff and the next day Frau Schneider was served with papers closing her erotic circus for selling alcohol and tobacco, items which circuses were forbidden to sell under German law.
That night Jürgen disappeared with his big cats.
I was again jobless.
I often wonder what happened to Jürgen after Hitler and his minions came to power. Did he ever see the dark-haired beauty again?
I know he was in love with her by the way he looked at her, but he wasn’t willing to sell his soul to the demonic men of the National Socialist movement.
They were like a poison you ingested a little at a time, he said, killing all that was good and pure inside you until you felt the full effect and the light turned to darkness.
Then it was too late.
When I returned to Berlin after the war, I checked the newspaper records and found a clipping about a lion trainer and his big cats who came to the rescue of Resistance fighters in Poland.
According to the story, the Poles had blown up a railway bridge then found their way to the circus with a Nazi patrol hot on their trail.
Jürgen insisted on hiding them. He must have known what would happen next when he left the door to the lions’ cage open…
When the Nazi soldiers tracked the Resistance fighters to the circus, they threatened Jürgen but he gave a silent command to his big cats to attack. The Nazis opened fire on the lions, killing one and wounding two others, but the Germans were no match for the remaining lions who killed the attackers and allowed the Resistance fighters to escape.
Jürgen stayed with his wounded animals until the end, then he escaped into the forest with the others.
He was never heard from again, but I have the feeling Jürgen continues to work with the big cats, most likely in a small circus in the Eastern sector.
His heart still broken.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
So am I on to something? Or have I just been writing way too much erotic romance? I'll let you be the judge.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Friday, May 21, 2010
Or maybe this blog post should be titled the day I knew he loved me. A couple years ago I had this sudden epiphany of how much the man must love me to put up with some of my er…quirks. Don’t get me wrong, I knew I loved my husband when I married him, but when we got married we’d known each other about 8 months (he proposed on the third date and it was a fast engagement). Over the last six or so years we’ve been through a lot of separations (work, etc.) and through it all we’ve grown stronger every day. We have our ups and downs like all couples of course, but the way my husband treats me is sort of the mold for how my hero’s treat their women. Which brings me to the point of my story.
A couple years ago I’d been reading up on these design books and found this funky, unique green color that I fell in love with. I decided I wanted our room painted that color. No, not as an accent color, but the whole frickin’ room. Looking back I have no idea what I was thinking cuz Lord, that green was bright. While I was at work my husband primed and painted the whole thing and when I got home he was so excited to show me what he’d done. As soon as I saw the room I burst into tears. I’m not a crier but the color was truly hideous and all I could think about was that we were going to be surrounded by puke green colors in our haven. My husband told me he’d take care of it then without a word, left, got some new neutral paint, then repainted the entire room the next day. It wasn’t a crazy grand gesture like sky writing a proposal but it meant a lot to me. In the long run, it’s the little things that add up and make someone heroic and that’s what I like to see in the heroes I read and write about. What about y’all? Has someone ever done something that meant a lot to you that you’d like to share?
P.S. All wasn’t lost. I ended up using that green paint on a wooden bakers rack and it was the perfect color for the accent piece.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
I don't self-pimp often, but when I do I make damn sure it's a big ol' all-in-one everlovin' promotional MFin' skankfest. Watch yo'self!
So no rambling dissertations this week, just a straight-up briefing on my recent doings in Writerland, including three upcoming stories from Ellora's Cave Exotika and my first from Loose Id.
Ruin Me coming June 9
Also known around Twitter by its Harlequin Presents-style alterna-title, The Unfaithful Paper Merchant's Forbidden Lumberjack.
Set during a snowy Vermont winter, my third release with Ellora's Cave is full of temptation and conflict and betrayal and heartache and frantic, occasionally ill-advised sex. One gal, two guys. If you're one of those readers who can't stand first-person point-of-view, this is your official warning—stay away. Or if you hate flawed characters, stay away. And if you're sensitive about infidelity as a theme, stay away. If your happily-ever-after must be dripping with glitter and babies, stay away. Otherwise, go ahead—let me entertain you for an evening at the bargain price of $5.20. Here's the blurb:
In her head, Robin wants to marry her boyfriend. Everything about her relationship with Jay makes sense, makes her happy, but she can’t bring herself to say accept his proposal. Her body has unfinished business with Patrick, the man who saved her life six years ago. For a long time she assumed her potent feelings for Patrick were fearful, wrapped up in the night she was attacked, but now she’s realizing it’s far simpler than that. She wants him. Always has, always will.
More attached to Robin than the idea of her being faithful, Jay gives her the green light to go after Patrick in the hopes that it will demystify the man and get him out of Robin’s system. It begs the question—if you've got permission, is it still cheating? And which will ultimately sway the heart—reason or attraction?
Reader warning: although arguably no cheating technically takes place, this story has a strong theme of infidelity and is not recommended for readers sensitive to that topic.
Click here for an excerpt.
Here's the PG-rated trailer…if any of my video embeds are persnickety, you can also view them at caramckenna.com/trailers.html.
Willing Victim coming in July
My fourth novella with EC. Here's the gist:
Laurel's floundering, cast adrift in her own life until the day a tall, built bruiser named Flynn walks in and changes everything. Laurel never pictured herself with a boxer, never imagined she'd be willing to explore rough sex and even rougher role-playing, but she can't deny how alive it makes her feel.
Reader warning: this story features [100% consensual] rape role-play scenarios which may upset some readers.
Here's the PG13-rated trailer:
Ready and Willing coming in August
My first novella from Loose Id! There are some smart folks who've been around the smutty block a few times and would tell you that erotica focused on conception turns readers off…or at least doesn't sell well. I don't know that I'm gunning to prove anybody wrong, but I like this story and was pleased as punch to find a good home for it. Here's the blurb:
At thirty-two, Abby’s pretty much got her shit together. She has a good job, a cozy home, a supportive family…and a biological clock that’s starting to feel more like a time bomb. Turned off the by the cold science of artificial insemination but wary of the complications that might come from enlisting a close male friend, Abby settles on a happy medium—she places an ad in a newspaper and goes in search of guys who are willing to help her conceive the good old-fashioned way. In the end she selects two men and winds up with far more than the no-strings-attached sex she bargained for, including an impromptu threesome and an unexpected romance.
Features male / male / female menage.
New contract for Backwoods
Ah, back to Louisiana. Fans of Shivaree may be excited to hear that Ellora's Cave has officially made an offer on its prequel, Backwoods. It's the story of how Shane and Gabriel and their smoking-hot codependent m/m tension-fest came to be. For those who haven't read Shivaree, you don't need to read one novella to appreciate the other—these are stand-alone stories, not a series…though Shivaree may one day have a true sequel, for myself and everyone else who thinks poor Shane deserves a happy ending.
Projects in the works
I have a couple stories due to head out into the Rejectosphere in the next few weeks. One is a short, cheap little frolic I've been calling Dirty Thirty. It's an m/m/f menage centered around Evan on the eve of his thirtieth birthday, the night his wife has arranged for them to live out Evan's taboo fantasy of sleeping with another man. I also have a longer story I'm planning to submit next month called Trespass, an erotic novella about a woman fugitive seeking sanctuary with a man in his remote home in the wilds of Montana. Lots of betrayal and lust and love and new beginnings and buckshot wounds. I got to shovel [literal] horseshit in the name of research for this one.
See you at RWA National
I was on the fence about attending National this year…until I found out I'd finaled in the Golden Heart contest and my husband insisted that I have to go, Orlando-in-July heatstroke be damned. If you're planning to attend, I'll be the pale, twitching mess wretching with nerves throughout the awards presentation, then the meek, quivering newbie at the bookfair, signing print compilations of my first three erotic novellas from Ellora's Cave. Swing by and say hello.
And that's it. Back atcha in two weeks with a triumphant return to my typical, nonsensical breed of irrelevant posting.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I, too, love sexy circus stories.
When I was exploring the background of my heroine, Lady Eve Marlowe, in my World War II Spice novel, Cleopatra's Perfume , (my story opens in 1939 when the world was on the brink of war), I discovered she had many adventures.
Including working in a circus in Weimar Berlin.
There she met a handsome lion trainer.
Find out what happened to Eve at the circus (backstory: Lady Marlowe was known as Eve Charles when she was a cabaret dancer in 1928 Berlin).
In Germany circuses were banned from performing for most of the nineteenth century by the courts who deemed them vulgar entertainment. Then in the 1870s things changed with the popularity of street fairs.
For my costume, Frau Schneider insisted I wear a crisp white blouse unbuttoned to the waist to reveal my lacy white brassiere underneath, camel jodhpurs and high black books. I was the bait in the lion’s cage to make the audience salivate with sensual anticipation while the big cats growled, pacing around me like nervous suitors.
I shivered, my wrists pulled up over my head and fastened to the iron bars of the cage, my blond hair frizzed by the lions’ hot breaths, my breasts heaving up and down. The audience cheered each time Jürgen cracked his whip, his white scarf whipping around him.
I flirted with him, but his mind was always on his big cats. I knew something was bothering him, but he wouldn’t talk about it. He was unapproachable, possessed with a restlessness that induced him to spend all his free time with his animals.
Every movement I make in my act must be exact, he said, so that even if he were several meters away from a lion, one gesture, one step would command the animal to obey him.
I stayed on with the circus through the spring until a beautiful dark-haired girl showed up in Jürgen’s tent.
Jürgen belonged to her.
To be concluded next week...
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Well the short piece is too long for just one post. Too long for two either. Let's call it a serial. I'm going to begin posting this short story I'm calling Slave to the Circus from now until I get through the tale. It's a futuristic, kinky, m/m/f menage and I hope you enjoy.
Be warned, another of the Naughty Author Chicks might just appear with a circus story of her own, having taken up the gauntlet I threw down for myself with this challenge. If that happens, you can enjoy the dueling stories during our blog times. Since I only post once every other week, I apologize for the drawn out tease. But C'est La Vie. Next time I post I'll provide a link to the first part of the story so readers can go back and review what I've already posted. Be aware that my story is in rough draft form.
SLAVE TO THE CIRCUS, by Michelle Polaris.
"Beautiful pussy. Lovely pussy. So sleek. Be a good girl and I promise I'll treat you fine." Duncan added the low purr to his offer to entice Tasha. She'd been moody recently and he worried. He always worried about his girls.
"You sound like you're flattering her so she'll agree to fuck you," a deep teasing male voice jarred his progress from behind.
He shot straight and the tawny, red spotted Tulisian feral cat snarled her displeasure at his fast movement. At 250 pounds of muscle, claw and teeth he took her displeasure very seriously.
Duncan put up both his hands to her to show his surrender, recovering his smooth glide and cajoling voice to soothe the feline lady before she decided to teach him a lesson and shred his skin.
Fuck the man who'd intruded in the cage just as he was getting the cat settled after the show. Even without turning to face him, Duncan knew who it was. Raven.
How had he gotten into the holding area? Duncan had locked it after himself as usual. He kept his attention to those details exacting. Necessary if he intended to maintain his position as animal performer at the Cirque. The scratch on his biceps still stung from yesterday's fuck up, the salty sweat from his earlier performance drying on his bare torso to irritate the claw mark. Universe help him, he couldn't start losing focus now. Now when he'd asked Andreil to let him add new cats to the act.
He was billed as the show's animal tamer. Duncan snorted at the title. Knowing his girls as he did the last thing he believed in was his ability to tame them. They tolerated him and condescendingly did his will because he paid them the respect, attention and worship they demanded. Females, whatever the species, responded best when a male acknowledged their status. Kept a man's balls intact as well. Plus, the desire to see them happy was a natural for him. So why this fucking edginess recently? Walking on ground glass and coals and jumping from place to place to avoid the pain from standing still? Keep working was his new motto. All this at a time when he was supposed to be happier than ever. It made no sense.
Duncan backed away, maintaining his smile and the stream of compliments to the cat. Near the cage door his shoulder brushed the other man's. "Jackass. Move slowly out of the cage with me when I open the door. I've fed her, but she's more than happy to indulge in dessert."
"Clearly your charm isn't working, Duncan."
"Get. Out. Of. The cage."
Raven complied just when Duncan expected him to start trouble again. Disappointingly, Tasha hadn't lurched and eviscerated the asshole.
As the seam of the force field snicked on around the bars of the old-fashioned style cage, its look aged for the 20th centry Earth-based circus mystique, Duncan turned into the night air to examine the newest member of the Cirque. Raven still wore the black and white face paint from his part of the performance and the snug fitting black shirt and pants. Although ostensibly their newest clown, he was far from the buffoon-like crew the Cirque usually hired. The pattern of stark sworls on his cheeks left the impression half his face was playfully laughing and the other half in tears. And that if you came to close you too would be in danger of being sucked into a psychotic blend of emotion. Duncan's mind kept stuttering at each glance of the pattern as it drew him in. Damn harlequin.
"You going to watch Vivi's act next?" Raven eased up too close for comfort with his question as Duncan ran through the last of the computer system checks on the cage force fields.
The heat from the man radiated out in invisible tendrils, fucking with Duncan's attention. Sinewy muscle, broad shoulders, lithe hips delineated by the tight costume. A significant bulge displayed at his groin. And Raven didn't seem to give a shit about displaying his erection for all to see. The chemistry and the beauty made flesh of the man caused an inconvenient stirring in Duncan's cock that made no sense. Vivi made him happy. She was more than enough for him, everything he'd searched for the years he'd wandered. He loved her enough to burst every damn organ in his body. But since Raven joined the Cirque a month ago, Duncan couldn't turn around without the new performer showing up behind him, pushing. Always pushing. A magnetic force that sent his internal compass spinning like mad. Raising his defenses in turn.
Whatever intrigue Raven had brewing would turn out nasty. And Duncan was sure something was on the cook fire. The clown had that kind of presence. Too large. Too potent. And there was only so much room for Dominant types in this traveling group.
His mind spun to Vivi and the way she sucked all the air from a space when she set a sleek booted heel into it. The feel of her hand around his shaved cock and balls when she grabbed him. The pinch of her clamps when she had him bound and waiting for her, asking for him to give himself up in suffering. The drive racing through him to fight down everything he pretended to be, conquer the fear and pain and place it all as a sacrifice on her altar. Gods whip it, she was fine. He loved her. A confrontation between her and Raven was a scary prospect if anyone wanted the Cirque to remain intact at the end.
"Yeah, I'm going to watch her act," he answered, shrugging off the knife-like attention from the strangely painted face and carrying the last of his gear back to the storage space in the next carney wagon.
The night air blew up, drifting smells of grease and grav rations from the food barge. Irritating his nose. The tinkling, cyberfae music tripped through his nerves as Raven followed him. Frizz lights blinked to advertise their attractions, delights of the freakish, strange and daring rolled out by the Cirque for the pleasure of its viewing audience. A blitz of color simultaneously hard and gentle.
Amazed metallic guests wandered between the show wagons and viewing screens. He didn't like touring this planet. The Fresian people got too worked up watching the traveling show and he'd spent many post-show hours helping staff break up fights and elbow customers back out to their transports after an almost drug like euphoria from the Cirque atmosphere.
"I'll come and watch with you. I want to speak with your Mistress. Will she allow it, you think?"
Duncan spun at the casual, teasing use of the word Mistress, acknowledging a truth that they had kept private from the crew, although none would really care. Vivi was his Mistress, feeding a long suppressed part of him searching forever and finally finding a home when he took up this job and met her. He'd accepted her bonds gladly, willingly made a gift of his body and soul, a homecoming long overdue in his life. And the pain and pleasure he'd found there made his worship of her sweet. He belonged to her. But the added joy came as he slowly discovered she belonged to him just as much.
He swallowed back the hollow in his belly at how little time she had left for him with their schedules. But for her he'd wait kneeling on the glass and coals. Wait as long as she required it. Until she showed up and shot him one of those sunshine wicked smiles, all star burst and feral like his cats. But with a mind at work behind it honed to the extreme.
Through gritted teeth he examined the smirking Raven as he casually leaned against the nearest wagon wall with arms crossed.
"She's busy after her gig." Duncan's clenched fists dug his nails into calloused palms. A surge of possessive splendor stormed through his veins and had him stepping closer to Raven, although not for anything friendly.
"Ah, but I have a favor to ask her." The clown unfolded his arms and stepped in to meet Duncan.
Their bodies rested close inches from one another, the scowl Duncan knew he wore doing nothing to warn away the sharp scent of sexual interest and casually wielded power the strange clown exuded.
Raven reached to rest a fingertip on the center of Duncan's chest. Ran it down his sternum to his abs, a few spaces above his groin where his stupid dick lurched once again. "I want to ask her to lend you to me."
Duncan slammed Raven's hand away from his body. "What the fuck? No way and don't you dare say that crap to her. Gods know I'm not interested."
"Aren't you?" Raven drawled.
Duncan's pulse beat thick on his tongue. Pounding copper and quicksilver.
The harlequin finally stepped back, eyes laughing, making the weeping side of his painted face more disturbingly evocative. "That's for her to answer, cat man. If she is truly the beautiful Domme I've suspected.'
He tilted his head, gaze sharp as Duncan steadied himself, fusing each vertebra straight to keep from backing away farther. Away from the piercing gaze.
"I'm well aware of how this works." Raven's eyes dipped down to Duncan's crotch where his erection had begun to fill. "Her cock to command, cat man. The question remains if she shares. Such beauties, both of you. Do you think she'd switch for me and go down on her knees to serve me? I picture her breasts bound in my harness, nipples pinched luscious wine color beneath my jeweled clamps."
A dark storm jagged in Duncan's belly and a painful arousing hatred filled him. "She's bitch enough to have you down on your knees writhing in pain, Raven. Touch her and I kill you after she's done twisting your balls off your body."
The clown's smile widened. "Sounds just lovely, sweetheart. It's a date then."
"I intend it the other way around, but now you're getting in the spirit."
TO BE CONTINUED...
Friday, May 14, 2010
I also updated my website and blog with a sexy new look, if you want to check it out!
4.5 Hearts for EROTIC EXPOSURE from The Romance Studio!
"Erotic Exposure is a delicious and fast moving short story. It starts fun and flirty, but quickly moves to hot and sexy. The chemistry between the characters is right on. I think anyone would enjoy this quick read."
Read the complete review here!
5 Cherries for JUST RIGHT from Whipped Cream!
"This short story is a fun erotic romp. Goldie Lockwood becomes lost on a forest hike and stumbles on a cottage just when she has given up hope of ever finding her way home. Little does she know that she has stumbled into the home of three sexy, hunky brother were-bears who are also highway patrol officers. When the three brothers come back to the cottage and discover the break-in, they are very upset. Goldie begs them to “punish” her instead of “arresting” her. This book shows a fun side with some light bondage, spanking and group play, while demonstrating a bond between Goldie and the youngest bear-shifter brother. The fun begins with spanking and gets hotter from there. Whew, this is a hot and tasty tidbit of a story!"
Read the complete review here!
4 Cherries for MR. RIGHT-NOW from Whipped Cream!
"Mr. Right-Now is a wickedly hot story with oodles of sexual heat. Author Paige Tyler has created two super-sexy characters that are both passionate and adventurous, and each of their encounters is more sizzling than the one before. As they skirt around the issue, yet, fall harder for one another, you’ll hover on the edge of the pages to learn what happens next. The writing is fantastic, and the pace never slows. You get heat, you get heart, and you get a wonderful story. This is definitely something erotica fans will enjoy, but also includes enough heart for those who expect a touch of romance. Be sure to put Mr. Right-Now on your TBR list!"
Read the complete review here!
4 Stars for GOOD COP, BAD GIRL from Night Owl Romance!
"Good Cop, Bad Girl is a hot quick read that is not to be missed.
WOW! Paige Tyler hits the nail on the head with this one. Julie Hanson is celebrating her 30th birthday with a group of friends when a cop shows up in response to her neighbor’s complaints about the noise. Man does it really heat up when Officer Kirk shows up later to give Julie her birthday present. The sex was smokin' hot and had me pausing as I turned the pages. For a quickie this was a really well developed read."
Read the complete review here!
You can read a sexy excerpt from each over on my website! And while you're there, check out the sexy new banner at the top of the page! Artist Rae Monet did the artwork for me! You can also find the link to the Summer Reading Trail on those excerpt pages, too! Be sure to click on it for more other great reads by fabulous authors!
"Stories so hot, they'll make your cheeks blush!"
Thursday, May 13, 2010
I’m on a mission.
I have a great opportunity for some free writing time, even though it puts a lot of pressure on my family. Wonderful, supportive folks that they are, they are letting me go on a writing retreat for a week in VT, right on the heels of being gone for almost a week at RT.
I’m working on a new Cougar Challenge book, and the wonderful Quirky Ladies helped me hammer out some important details for the premise last Friday night over crunchy rolls from our favorite sushi restaurant.
Mmm, crunchy rolls. What I wouldn’t give for a – stop. Focus, dammit!
I swear the writing gods think it’s funny to conspire against me. I’m here now, 2 days late, but I’m here. I’ve had everything thrown at me from Mother’s Day to childbirth (I’m an Auntie!), to poison ivy (bad case for DH), to snow, to personal injury.
Yes, snow. That’s not a typo.
Did I mention that I woke up today, my first morning, with pink eye?
So, I’m going along like a journal. Today is Mon, and I’ll post on Thurs. morn. My personal goal for this trip is 10,000 words and I don’t want to change that number for a few circumstances. My foot can throb (don’t ask!), I found sugar for my coffee, and I still have one good eye.
10,000 words. I’m on a mission.
Mon’s word count, 2,015. Goal for today, 3000 words and calories. If I hit it, I get to go to the restaurant across the street and get myself some fettuccini alfredo. I’m lactose intolerant and a perpetual dieter, so this is a huge treat. And no, I do not need to be told it’s probably more than 3000 calories in one sitting. I’m in denial, let me be. Besides, by the time you read this I’ll hopefully have already eaten it, so telling me that would just be mean.
Hit 3011 words, can’t talk, stuffing face. First thing I did was throw away the bread. Yeah, that’s gonna help. OMG, I think this is better than my sex scenes. I’m going to have to reevaluate those.
…or not. Sex scenes – and the real thing – don’t leave me feeling nauseous. Maybe eating ¾ of a platter, and I do mean platter, not plate, full of rich food I don’t normally eat wasn’t my brightest moment.
Total word count so far, 5011. BTW, math won’t work on your end because numbers come from the computer, which subtracts the inevitable edits along the way.
Goal for today: minimum 2000, preference is 2500. I also want to squeeze in two long walks to help clear my head and distribute some of the alfredo from my ass and thighs.
Today will be tough because I’m not completely happy with how yesterday ended. No, let me rephrase that. The H/H are not happy and they’re letting me know it by not talking.
This calls for more coffee.
Checking back in. Late afternoon and time for a shower and a walk. Writing is going well despite not making numbers progress. I’m making story progress, and the H/H are back with me.
The walk has cleared my mind and the beauty of it has made me remember why I love to come here to get away from the grind. There aren’t many places you can step outside and come across this a short distance away. Snow has melted and the weather is beautiful and lukewarm, tho they are calling for a freeze tonight.
I’m glad the story is on the right track, but I failed miserably in my word count. I’m ending the night at 566 words. No telling how many I actually wrote because I backtracked a lot, but that’s par for the course. My end of trip goal number is still 10,000.
I'll check back in before I go home. I have a lot of words to go in the next 48 hours!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
I take up my pen today not to write my romance, but to impart to you news, important news that has reached me in my place of solitude where I deign to call myself a novelist.
Morning sunlight, wiggling through the petit-point pattern on the lacy curtain, hovers over my shoulder to see what I’m writing. A red-breasted robin fluttering about on the window sill holds its breath, pen scratchings fill my ears.
I am beside myself with excitement, spilling blue ink on my gown and smudging the fine rice paper upon which I write with dirty fingerprints, but I know you shall forgive me for word has reached me that my memoir, The Blonde Samurai, has found its way to faraway shores.
A place where–
The romance of carnival and exquisite masks enchants the eye.
The sacred mount of the holy saints restores one’s faith.
The musical language of the arts and literature delights the ear and enriches the soul.
I must recount to you how pleased I am that the story of this Irish-American lass and her samurai has made its way to such a grand place.
Here then is the visual and audio presentation in Italian of the publisher’s synopsis of “Bionda Samurai” (available May 13th). Grazie!
Postscript: I have also included the English translation for you:
“During the latter part of the nineteenth century, a beautiful and fascinating American woman named Katie is about to release her memoir with more than a hint to scandal, a scandal that will unleash an uproar in Society.
“She is determined to recount her adventures in every detail, from the electrifying moments to the salacious, her life ruled by her insatiable appetite for all things sensual. Her story takes us from London to Japan, where the journey takes you through a maze of raw and vivid eroticism.
“Tantalizing and provocative scenes of sensuality await you in Japan. This is the return of class because Jina Bacarr (author of “The Blonde Geisha” and “Cleopatra’s Perfume“) puts forward with her usual skill a story that is unique and has earned her millions of readers around the world, her themes more endearing and bold with provocative situations raw and sexy but always romantic.
The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
And then there's the antagonist you just like. They are the anti-hero. The very characteristics that make them good villains also make them awesome heroes and heroines. Again, Adam Black. Sue Sylvester in Glee. They're funny, ruthless, vulnerable, scheming, heart-warming, confident and insecure. They're complex and redeemable. And too much fun to read or watch!