Tuesday, 26 August 2014

Let it Burn - with Emily Wood

I have a lovely guest today - a Beachwalk Press buddy, the delightful Emily Wood with her new book which released last week!

Hello everybody! Thank you for stopping by to read about my new release Let It Burn

Sometimes one person can make you question everything you thought you wanted.
Lydia James is a struggling scriptwriter with big dreams. She's determined to conquer the movie world, and equally determined to stay out of the limelight while she does it. So what happens when she meets Ryan Sharpe, a British actor and Hollywood's next big thing? He could hold the keys to her future, but with him, flying under the radar doesn't seem to be an option.
Ryan has learned his lesson when it comes to women. In his experience, relationships mean heartache and pain. But when he meets Lydia, everything changes. She's a breath of fresh air, and everything he didn't even know he was looking for. There's just one problem—she doesn't want to be a part of his life. Will a weekend in Saint-Tropez give Ryan the opportunity he needs to win Lydia's heart, or will their desires turn to ashes?
Content Warning: explicit sex
"So what is it about the party that you're so desperate to avoid, Lydia James?"
She sucked a breath in and blew it out slowly. She didn't miss Ryan's eyes flickering to her breasts as her chest heaved. They lingered there for a moment.
"Honestly, I'm totally out of my depth." She paused, wondering how much he would actually want to know and how much would just be a rant. She decided to go for it anyway. "I'm a writer. Or at least, I want to be. I have a story…a script. I also have an agent who brought me here to make connections. That's what he said anyway, but…he's been hinting that he expects to get something out of this, if you get what I mean."
"Yeah. Obviously, I would never do that. But how the hell do I get out of this? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get an agent?" She remembered who she was talking to. "Of course you do." And then she looked at him again—he probably had exclusive rights to Hollywood based on his jaw-dropping good looks. Even mere mortals like directors and producers bowed down to gods. "So my problem is how do I get out of this without him blackening my name forever?"
Ryan's face had been a picture of amusement since the moment he'd turned on the light. But suddenly something far more dangerous danced in his eyes, although he was obviously struggling to hide it. A thrill shocked her whole body before finally settling in her lower abdomen.
"The damage has been done," Ryan said. His voice was slow and tight. "You can kiss your agent goodbye. Not literally though. I'm afraid the industry is rife with people like that, and if he doesn't take you seriously now, then no offense, but no amount of sexual favors are going to change his mind."
The blush that had colored her cheeks earlier was nothing compared to the heat that filled them under Ryan's angry gaze. Her skin was suddenly so hot that it made her eyes water. She felt dirty and ashamed, and she hadn't even done anything. Jesus, she wouldn't have even dreamed of doing anything with that man out there.
"I already knew that," she snapped. "I came in here to get away. But how do I… Whatever I do now I'll offend him."
The anger in Ryan's face melted away enough for mischief to creep in. He stood up, walking over to her in a slow, deliberate way that had her heartbeat doing the exact opposite. She pressed her back against the door as he approached. He was even more captivating up close. A tiny corner of her consciousness worried about what he intended to do while the rest of her screamed approval at all of the naughty things racing through her mind.
But of course, she wasn't in a fairy tale, and heartbreakingly handsome actors didn't kiss lowly dreamers like herself. He stopped short, his perfectly sculpted lips moving to breathe in her ear rather than meet her own. Lydia let her eyes flicker closed, his intoxicating, spicy scent threatening to turn her into a puddle at his feet.
"If the only man who could make your career is about to drop you, then there's only really one thing to do."
"What's that?" Lydia managed to croak, painfully aware of how close she was to touching heaven.
"Make sure everybody else knows your name."

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About Author
I have always believed that the best stories are the ones that you can't put down, the ones that transport you to a different place and make you believe in the characters. This is exactly why I write… I have always loved the escapism that reading and writing provides, and there is nothing more exciting than imagining your own set of characters, and then letting them practically write the story for you. Writing has always been a dream of mine, and I'm lucky to have the kind of people around me that have always nurtured and encouraged my passion.
I live a cozy little life in Wales, and when I'm not writing I'm taking care of my young family, and studying for a degree in Classical Studies. I love traveling to new places, meeting new people, and experiencing new things…it's all great inspiration for my books!
Author Links

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Sex Chat

Hi there sex fans :D

I thought I'd have a little exploration into some of the feelings and emotions around sex. This is coming from a personal point of view so I'd be very interested if you felt able to add your opinions in the comments.

Most of the erotica I write has some sort of 'strings attached'. And by that, I mean my characters usually have some sort of turmoil raging in their head - either associated with the sexual act or sex is used to heal them in some way - or gets them over a particular hurdle - or they are just scared of letting go and exposing themselves that deeply to another human. What if I'm too hairy, smelly, fat, thin, big, small, wet, hard, soft, loud, shy, quiet? What if I don't know what to do? What if it won't fit? What if I look different 'down there' to everyone else, what if they don't like me afterwards? What if I don't like them afterwards? What if they tell all my friends? What if they tell all of their friends? What if they don't tell their friends? What if they can read my mind? What if I fall in love? What if I don't? You know - all that good sheet crawly stuff that offers us torture in our hour of lust.

moisture droplets on petal
It's strange for my writing to be so embroiled with these emotions as I have always been very comfortable with my sexuality and sensuality. I've always known how to have an orgasm, I've always known what sex is and what it's for. I even challenged the sex education teacher - so frustrated by the purely physical slant put on the class, it was basically a biology lesson - and what I wanted was chemistry! Oh yeah!

"So what's the point?" I asked.
The teacher was puzzled and asked me what I meant.
"Well, apart form making babies, what's the point? Why would you be warning us against doing it when it's only for procreation?" Yes, I was being a bit annoying and precocious but I was desperate to hear something about sexuality, not just sex. I wanted her to say something like - "Because it feels great. Because your hormones drive you to do it. Because it connects you to another human being in the most incredible way possible. Because there will come a time when you are around someone that you will just want to eat up in every way. Because, and because and because!"

I felt cheated. I wanted more than a sex talk. I wanted a sexuality and sensuality talk. I wanted to talk about feelings and emotion. I think it is the most interesting and exciting part of the whole sexual journey. That first buzz when your eyes meet. The first trickle between your legs when you did not expect it. The racing heart, the Oh My God what the hell is this? feelings.

That moment...
I was lucky to be brought up in a home where sensuality and sexuality were talked about in an honest and open way. I was prepared for the fact that while my body might be raring to go, my heart and mind might take a little longer to adjust. After all, once it's done, you can't undo it.

I remember feeling so helpless for some of my friends who I knew were desperate to lose their physical 'virginity' without a care for their emotional one.

So I think I explore this over and over again. I keep returning to this connection between people that my characters may or may not be ready for and the impact of that. Mostly in my stories, sex brings people together and heals them - people 'grow up' together through the sexual shared experience.

Sex and sexuality is a joyful and wonderful thing... but incredibly complex.

I'm sure it has all changed nowadays and young people are given lots of education on all aspects of sex. I hope so.

What do you think?

If you're shy - be anonymous - heck, if you're really shy, email me!


x x x

By the way - these images are from my Pinterest board... :D
Not sure what the etiquette on sharing is, but hopefully that all takes you back to the right place... x x

Sunday, 17 August 2014

Seductive Sunday Snog

Here's a sultry snippet from my story, The Conference, in South Bank Seduction - it's a bit of a cheat as there is barely a kiss but there is tension of the sexual variety... this is where my leading lady has just met the artist she sometimes poses for, in the Tate Modern. Oh to be an artist's muse! *yearn* *sigh*
Hope you enjoy! Remember to check out the other snoggers.

Suddenly a hand is at my lower back. Hot and heavy. Power and energy slump from my body as I surrender to him in that one motion.
He's here. I'm here.
I'm still bent at the waist and he lifts me by the shoulder, the hand at my back casually smoothes over my buttocks and presses firmly at the dip beneath. I melt. I liquefy. The ache in my groin which has plagued me since I boarded the train in Scotland is now a torrent of heat and desire.
We are the eye of the storm. The stillness in this vast crowded space.
"Come," he says and grabs my hand, almost dragging me behind him as I shimmy in my too high heels and too tight skirt and too nylon stockings. It is highly erotic. I can almost visualise us in black and white with perilous piano music playing along. A damsel being taken by a gentleman in a shabby three-piece suit and three-day beard. God, I am wet. My panties are soaked. I feel wanton and excited. Will we go to his usual studio or does he have something else lined up?
In the taxi he blindfolds me and touches my lips with something cold and sticky. The feathery slippery touch is tickly and strange. Almost like he is painting them with a sable tipped brush. I keep still and silent.
When he's guided me up some stairs and the blindfold is removed, we are in familiar territory. I am glad. I love his paintings. Louche figures in various stages of undress and eroticism stare at us from all angles. They remind me of the 1920s, somehow carefree and decadent with a sizzling dangerous undertone.
"Stand here," he commands sweeping his hand in the direction of a wooden pillar. He has removed his jacket but the waistcoat remains and he has rolled up his shirt sleeves. I do as he bids and face the easel which is set up just in front of it. "Take off your top half."
His voice is gruff and sticky in that way that tells of a life lived on good whiskey and cigarettes. Or is he a brandy drinker? The faint lingering scent of debauchery on his breath and skin, even after bathing, I imagine, gives me a thrill. He gives me a thrill. The fuck you attitude of a man who will not be told what he can and cannot do. I like it. My pussy quivers as he licks his lips and sighs in a contemplative way while he studies me removing my blouse. Happy to be rid of the damp item, I reach up behind my back to unhook my bra but he holds out his palm.
"No. Leave it." He stares at me, my form, with an analytical eye. There is no emotion in a human to human sense but he is so concentrated in an artist to subject sense that I am overwhelmed with need. But what do I need? What is it that brings me to him? He has never touched me yet. Not once. And I have never even caught a glimpse of even a sketch. When we are done, he simply sends me on my way, burning. His brow furrows as he concentrates on my chest. My nipples are yearning and peaking, straining for attention. But he won't see. I have a thick vintage cotton bra which holds my breasts out in the perfect cone.
He steps forward with both hands out and I hold my breath as he reaches in over the top of each cup and eases my breasts out. His hands are cool and I let my head fall back as he tugs harder, unaware that this is a 1950s original. I sway on my heels as he keeps working until both tits are free and hanging out over my bra. He manages to fold the top half of each cup into itself to arrange it like a balcony. Perfect. Did I just imagine it or did he roll my nipples between his thumbs and fingers?

Oh god. If he would slide those artist’s fingers up between my thighs, oh, the heat and sodden need he would find there. One touch. That's all it would take. One tiny circle of a finger tip on my clit and I would be spiralling right now into that heady place of oblivion. But he doesn't. He lets me stand there. Every hair is raised and reaching out to him. Every inch of my flesh is crying out but I am silent...

Hope you liked that - hope it left you a little uneasy :D remember to check out the other snogs x x x

Tuesday, 12 August 2014

A Bunch of Chemical Reactions

Boo - no flip-flops
Is that what defines us?

The chemicals that rush through our bodies. Are we simply bossed around by hormones?

Do we really have any free will? Or does nature control our every drive and desire?

I'm thinking... I think our mood and desires are a result of the stimuli around us combined with all of the above. For example, if I hear a certain melodic tune when I'm feeling a little low, I might delve further into that melancholic space and simply let myself dwell in the sublime floaty house of wallowing in self pity.

However, put on a bit of Led Zep or Jack White and I will be dragged jumping and wooping out of my grumps into a state of dribbling joy.

The sight of a handsome gentleman in tweeds and flip flops on a day where I'm feeling slightly off colour - oh boy - what a cure all! And what if a lady in a corset happens to drop by? That's it. I'm gone. Is it a rush of hormones that do this? Is it simply the chemicals that start the fluttering?

What about smell? Ahhh the heavenly fragrance of privet flowers take me back to my childhood summers of playing movie stars with my sister under my granny's privet tree. We would practise our swoons and screen kisses into the crooks of our arms as the tiny waxy petals fell about us like confetti.

I have no answers, I'm simply interested.

What are the sights, sounds, feelings and smells that turn your day around?
By the way - these images are from my Pinterest page - I'm unsure about the rules on sharing them here but hopefully all the links take you back to whoever put them there in the first place :D

I really would love to hear what you think of all this.

Thanks for stopping by y'all x x x

Tuesday, 5 August 2014

The Silk Tie by Lily Harlem

It's my absolute please today to have the delicious Lily Harlem here to tease us with her new book, The Silk Tie - I'm just about to scurry off and buy The Glass Knot and cannot wait for the ride!

The Silk Tie by Lily Harlem

If you enjoyed The Glass Knot you’ll LOVE The Silk Tie.”

New from Lily Harlem, The Silk Tie, a steamy ménage a trois novel (mmf) that celebrates desire, fantasy and follows the brave decision of a woman to let a third into a her relationship. It’s steamy, sexy and leaves no detail unexplored. Grab a copy, settle down and enjoy a rollercoaster of emotions with Hayley, Gabe and Brent.

The Silk Tie is available from Amazon
The Glass Knot is available from Amazon and all other good ebook retailers

Back cover information

Professional life in the City of London is tough going which is why my husband Gabe and I live by the motto work hard and play hard. So when something, or rather someone, comes along that changes how he wants to play I’m intrigued by our sexy new game.

But there's always private sides to the ones you love, and in this case new thoughts and desires are stealing Gabe’s dreams. It’s not until I meet Brent—gorgeous and sophisticated yet soul-achingly alone—that I begin to understand the complex layers of Gabe’s needs and exactly what I have to do.

But I’m not afraid; in fact the idea of two men turns me the hell on. In a whirlwind of romance, fear, desire and a new cresting wave of passion we open up to each other, testing the water for one weekend only. Or is it? Will we ever be the same again? Can Gabe and I survive our decision to let a third into our bed? Can Brent just walk away and, more importantly, will we let him?


After placing the papers on the desk and setting down my purse, I put my iPhone on charge. There was no message from Gabe.
You can’t…you can’t go in there. You don’t have an appointment.”
I turned at the sound of Jeannie’s panicked voice.
Sir, really you can’t,” she said again.
I stepped toward the door.
Sir. I have to insist…”
A man—tall, wearing a suit and with dense facial hair—strutted into the center of the room, placed his hands on his hips and set his gaze on me.
Please, you must leave.” Jeannie appeared, twisting her hands together and shifting from one foot to the other.
It’s okay,” I said, not tearing my attention from Brent. His expression was dark, his mouth, usually upturned, a dead-flat line. “I’ll handle it from here.”
Are you sure? Shall I call security?” Jeannie asked.
I wasn’t sure. He was breathing fast and his eyebrows were pulled low. Something had really pissed him off.
Yes, I’m sure.” I nodded. “Just shut the door please, Jeannie.”
Good idea,” Brent said, his voice low and husky.
Jeannie hesitated.
I nodded at her. “It’s fine.”
She frowned then pulled the door up.
The second it clicked shut Brent moved toward me, fast.
I backed up.
My shoulders hit the polished paneling that clad the walls of my office. I couldn’t move any farther.
What the hell,” he said, coming up close then pressing his palms against the wood either side of my head, “do you think you’re doing?”
What?” I asked, gulping and looking up at him.
Jesus Christ, don’t pretend you don’t know.”
I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I managed, flattening my hands behind myself and pulling in fast breaths.
I knew exactly what he was talking about.
Gabe,” he said, lowering his face. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
I could feel the air leaving his lungs through his nose as it washed over my cheeks. His aftershave invaded my nostrils and laced my tongue. The heat of his body radiated onto mine, blasting through my silky blouse as though it wasn’t even there.
What about Gabe?” I asked, tilting my chin.
He’s just asked me to fuck him.” His eye contact was unwavering. “And he told me that it was your idea.”
What? No, that’s not right.”
Which bit of that isn’t fucking right, Hayley, because it all sounds pretty fucking not right to me?”
I gathered my strength and refused to be intimidated by him. “You can’t deny you like Gabe.” I gave him a steely glare.
That’s not the issue.” He narrowed his eyes.
And he likes you,” I snapped back.
All of that is irrelevant because he’s married…to you.”
Which surely means, if there is one person who can give Gabe permission to fuck someone else, it’s me. His wife.”
His mouth opened slightly and he stared at me.
What?” I asked. “It makes sense. Gabe’s got a crush on you, I suppose that is one way of describing it, and he wants you, badly, he—”
He’s not even bloody gay.”
No, but he must have elements of being bi for him to be feeling this way.”
Brent stepped away, turned and locked his fingers on the crown of his head with his elbows outstretched.
Brent,” I said, pushing away from the wall. “Please don’t be mad.”
I’m not mad…just…”
Confused, I suppose.” He dropped his hands and turned to me as he sighed. The hardness had gone from his face.
Why?” I moved to my desk and leaned my behind on it, kept my arms at my sides in an effort to look open and available for him to express his feelings to. It was a tactic I used with clients. “Tell me, Brent. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Yes, we are.” He sat in one of the two chairs in front of my desk and sighed. “I like you, Hayley, a lot, and I like Gabe too. I care about him.”
And do you fancy him?”
I’m not gay either.” He paused and appeared to summon courage. “But I am bi. I have been with a man before.”
I nodded and kept my expression neutral even though there was something electrifying about his admission. No longer a rumor but a solid fact he was able to share with me.
And would you want to be with Gabe that way?” I asked. Again words were coming out of my mouth that I wouldn’t believe I could utter. This time last month this conversation would be ludicrous.
Do I want Gabe that way,” he repeated.
I waited for him to go on.
Yes, in a word. He’s bloody gorgeous and damn sexy too, but I don’t need to tell you that, Hayley. Heck, you married him.”
I smiled. “He is gorgeous and sexy, and also the most passionate, loving person I’ve ever met.” I paused. “His happiness is also my responsibility and right now, him not being with you the way he wants to be is screwing with his mind.”
Have you had a third person in your relationship before?”
No, it’s always been just us. We’re strong, our bonds are tight, but…”
And you’re willing to risk it all.”
Perhaps it’s a risk for it not to happen.”
Bloody hell…” He pressed his hands over his face and looked at me from over his fingertips. “You’re really are deadly serious.”
Yes.” I sat on the seat at his side. “I am. He’s been on edge, preoccupied. I know he loves me, would die for me, we’ve been in each other’s lives for a long time now, there’s nothing that will tear us apart.”
Except me. Maybe I will.”
Do you really believe that?”
It would be my worst nightmare to split you two up. Seeing you and Gabe together makes me very happy. You have something special, something I’ve hunted for, seen glimpses of, but never truly found.”
I reached out and rested my fingers on the sleeve of his gray suit jacket and rubbed my thumb on the smooth material. “Gabe and I are strong. Strong enough to cope with this.” I paused, hoping to hell that we were. “If you feel the same way about Gabe then this can happen. I don’t have a problem with it.”
He stared at me, long and hard, then, “You’re right, I do want to fuck him.”
My belly clenched and I squeezed my internal muscles. This might actually happen for Gabe.
But I have one condition,” he said, leaning back and folding his arms. His suit jacket bunched at the lapels.
What’s that?” I asked.
You’re there. You watch us.”
You can’t be serious.” I knotted my fingers together and gripped them in my lap. “Why would…?” Much as the idea appealed, I’d never thought it would become reality.
You remember that film, Indecent Proposal? Robert Redford I think it was.”
Yes. What about it?” I laughed but the sound caught in my throat.
Brent reached out, rested his palm over my clasped hands. “It screws him up, the husband. After his wife has spent a night with another man for a huge sum of money, he obsesses about what they did, how they were together. Was there love or was it just sex? Had she had more fun with the rich guy than with him?”
I nodded. I’d seen the film.
That’s what causes the problems,” Brent went on. “They had a million in the bank but the husband’s imagination, his not knowing, was a much bigger problem than being poor.”
And you think I’ll be like that?”
I don’t know. You seem pretty…cool with the idea at the moment.”
I am. I’ve given it a lot of thought.”
He lifted his hand from mine and shifted on the seat.
I glanced at his groin and wondered if he was getting hard talking about screwing my husband. “Okay,” I said. “It wasn’t how I thought it would go. But yes, I’ll be there.” A flush traveled over my skin just at saying that. I could hardly begin to think how horny it would make me to actually see them together, for real—fucking.
Brent stood, slid his hands down the front of his suit jacket then straightened his tie. “You can tell him yes for me. I’m afraid I was a little harsh on him when he blurted it out over a cheese panini in Costa. It had been the last thing I was expecting him to say.”
I will, but…” I hated to think of Gabe being upset, confused by Brent’s reaction.
Yes. I’ll call him too.” He looked at his watch. “But right now I’m late for a meeting with my bank manager, and I really have to run.”
Yes, of course.”
He walked to the door.
Brent,” I called.
What?” He turned and a long shard of sunlight sliced over his face and down his body.
Thank you.”
He smiled and swept his tongue over his bottom lip. “I should be the one thanking you.”

Lily Harlem Bio

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including Ellora's Cave, HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite and Sweetmeats Press. Her HOT ICE series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release in 2012.

Her latest novel, Breathe You In, is a super-sexy romance with a twist that will not only heat you up but stay with you for years to come. Breathe You In was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2013.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae - check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set Trilogy available exclusively on Amazon - The Novice, The Player and The Vixen - and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel 'every woman should read'.

One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

Lily Harlem Links

Author Pages