Tuesday, 24 February 2015

The Spectre

A few days after posting this Blogger reviewed their review of their policy on adult blogs and decided NOT to make any changes! But still, the Spectre looms so this post remains.

All my life I have known about the concept of freedom of speech, freedom of expression. As a child, circumstances challenged this and so I held a lot of that expression inside. I grew and the self-censorship remained.

Over the past few years, I've let bits of myself slip out into the public arena via this little space on the internet, my blog.

But the circumstances are closing in. Old feelings of 'keep quiet' 'shhh' - 'that's bad' are creeping in.

I'm a dramatic artsy type - but I'm also extremely tight about what I express and how I express it. I feel the responsibilities of my rights very keenly. I always put a content warning up and you can't even 'like' my Facebook page unless you're 18. 

The reason for this today is that my art (see my drawings page) may be deemed unsuitable for this blog platform. May fall under this change of my blog host's policy - 'we'll no longer allow blogs that contain sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video. We'll still allow nudity presented in artistic, educational, documentary or scientific contexts, or where there are other substantial benefits to the public from not taking action on the content.'

I hope my drawings would be seen as artistic - but I can't deny they are intended to be erotic - so does that mean they are graphic and therefore unacceptable? Who decides?

I've always felt constricted. So this is not a new feeling to me. I know what I have to do - I have to either take down my drawings or make a whole new blog elsewhere and redirect everyone there.

It's just tiring and sad.

I try my best to express myself with honesty, respect for others, and with a joie de vivre that I feel in the pit of my soul. I endeavour to be as eloquent as I can when it comes to my prose - I hope I convey a depth to my writing and art that is considered and true. But it's not me that gets to decide that. It's a subjective thing. And I know when you let something out on an audience, it is no longer yours, it is changed and defined by other's experience of it - which is one of the most delightful and privileged things about it all.

I don't sell many books - in fact I probably give away more than I sell. But still, I feel the urge to write, so it's not for the money. I don't make money from my art either, unless people commission a portrait, but it wouldn't pay the bills. I do it because I need to be creative, if I don't make or express something everyday, a little bit of me fragments. Perhaps I should just keep it to myself. But the joy of collaborating, viewing, sharing, being part of other people's creativity keeps me posting. Keeps me buoyant.

Anyway - this has turned into a wee bitty of a rant. Maybe my drama's for nothing and my pictures will be fine - but that's not the point.

There's a spectre looming.

Sunday, 22 February 2015

The Experiment

*Update* F.Leonora chose this image as one of her five in the Sinful Sunday weekly round up!

Here's my Sinful Sunday

Click on the lips to see who else is being sinful...

Sinful Sunday

Friday, 20 February 2015

You're always in Expert Hands with Lily Harlem!

Well today I'm introducing a very sexy book by my fellow Brit Babe and partner in Wine, the delectable Ms Lily Harlem is in the house!

I've read In Expert Hands and I utterly loved it - it's escapism, it's the billionaire fantasy - with hot, hot characters. I always love falling into Lily's stories, they are so easy to read with a lightness of touch that has you swirling so beautifully from the first tender kiss to full on kink. I don't know how she does it, but Lily makes it all feel so natural and beautiful - Expert Hands indeed.

There are some very sexy scenes which pop into my memory at the most inappropriate moments, giving me that delicious secret glow  throughout my day - don't you love a book that can do that?

So what are you waiting for? Here's some more details and a saucy snippet x x x


Out now from Lily Harlem, a seriously hot new BDSM billionaire novel – IN EXPERT HANDS – available from Amazon

Back cover information

Imogen White has it all—a high-flying career, a prestigious London home and friends she knows will fight her corner. She’s going up, and she’s in control, she’s also got the hots for one very important, very sexy client.

Kane Ward is a self-made billionaire whose determination to be the best of the best has left him alone. He has everything money can buy, yachts, jets, and villas in all four corners of the globe, but even he can’t buy time to suit his needs.

And his needs are very specific, his desires a particular shade of kink and his tastes anything but vanilla. So when he sets his sights on Imogen it’s a given that things are going to get dark, that pleasure will be laced with pain and determining his success will be measured by her blushes and gasps and cries of delight. But Imogen doesn’t need to worry, she’s in expert hands and her every fantasy is about to come true—and then some she’d never imagined in her wildest dreams.

IN EXPERT HANDS has a spin-off short story, IN SAFE HANDS which is featured in the Brit Babes SEXY JUST GOT RICH anthology. Go grab your copy - it’s available from all good ebook retail outlets at a bargain introductory price - and let yourself fall into the dark, erotic world of the Ward brothers, but remember to call them Sir if you’re wearing their collar!

In Expert Hands Buy Links

Excerpt from IN EXPERT HANDS 18+

“Would you like a drink?” he asked over the sound of the music.
“I’m okay, unless you want one.”
“No. I drank water after my workout.” He urged her forward. “So shall we go straight into a playroom?”
“If that’s what you want?”
He glanced at his watch. “There should be something going on to satisfy our voyeur plans for the evening.”
They stepped toward the bar.
Kane indicated another doorway at the opposite end that had a chain mail curtain hanging from its frame. “It’s through there.”
“Ah, K. Long time no see.” A man wearing a similar jacket to Kane’s but with only two stars over the breast pocket extended his hand.
He didn’t wear a mask and Imogen could see that his smile was genuine.
“Nate, how have you been?” Kane took his hand and they shook.
“Great, been in the City for a few weeks on business. Making the most of my free time by coming here.” Nate turned to Imogen and raised his eyebrows. “You have company.”
“Don’t look so surprised.” Kane squeezed Imogen a little closer.
“I am. You don’t usually bring guests. Special occasion?”
Imogen felt Kane tense. She sensed he wasn’t enjoying having his break from the ordinary commented on. “
No occasion,” Kane said. “Good to see you, Nate, perhaps we’ll get a chance to catch up later.”
“Yep. That would be cool.” Nate held up what appeared to be a glass of fizzy water and nodded. He kept his attention on Imogen. “Enjoy your evening here at Sub Space. I’m sure Master K will address your every need.”
“Thank you.” Imogen smiled then felt her cheeks heat as Nate swept his gaze down her body—starting at the collar, then lingering on her breasts and finally on her boots.
Kane stepped forward, tugging her with him. “This way.”
After several paces she touched the collar. “This, around my neck,” she said quietly. “What would happen if I wasn’t wearing it?”
“It would make you fair bait for men like Nate, who are just out to play in a scene, find someone to hook up with.” He glanced at her. “He had no right to look at you like that.”
“Well, the outfit kind of screams look at me.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Oh.” She was confused. “It’s not?”
“No. You’re with me. I’ve claimed you with a collar. What’s more, I outrank him. He should show more respect.”
“You outrank him?”
“Of course.” He pulled back the chain curtain and opened a door. He ushered Imogen into the new room.
Imogen opened her mouth and stared around, thoughts of Nate vanishing.
Kane moved her from the doorway and into the shadows. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist
“What are your first impressions?” he asked by her ear, his lips brushing her lobe and his breath heating a trail down her neck.
She leant back into him, loving being so close, held by him. But she couldn’t concentrate fully on his embrace because of what was before her. “It’s…sexy.”
“Mmm, I’m glad you think so,” he said, the soft material of his mask rubbing against her temple. “What else?”
She looked around. The room was sectioned into six large cubicles, each one decorated in dark tones and with a combination of low lights and spotlights. Each three-walled area held a bed or a table or some other piece of equipment in the center. Three spaces were occupied.
There was an audience, too, couples, singles, threesomes sitting on more large sofas. Imogen could only see the backs of their heads. Some appeared enraptured, others holding quiet conversations.
“Tell me,” Kane urged, slipping his hand over the smooth material covering her waist. “What do you think about that, over there, to your left.”
Imogen was already staring in that direction. It had been the main thing that had captured her attention.
A naked woman was bent double, tied to a skinny padded table with her ankles fastened to the legs and her arms stretched out on two platforms, crucifix-like. Her skin was pale except for her behind, which was scarlet.
Beside her stood a man—dressed like Kane in black trousers and a velvet jacket—wielding a flogger. He walked around the woman as if surveying the marks on her ass then cracked down the many strands over her skin.
Imogen jerked and a tingle traveled over her buttocks, as though her nerves were empathetic with what the woman on the table was going through.
The man hit again.
The woman groaned and moved her head, her face coming into Imogen’s view. She had her eyes screwed up tight and her lips were parted. There was a flush of red on her cheeks that matched the rosy blush on her backside.
“Talk to me,” Kane said softly.
“Is she enjoying it?” Imogen asked, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer. The woman appeared to be in ecstasy, as though she’d folded in on herself and only her body and sensation existed.
“Very much so,” Kane said. “Master Zen is very capable of working his sub towards orgasm just through striking her.”
“Are they just…playing a scene or are they…?”
“Lovers, committed to each other? Yes, actually those two are. They’re regulars here and live the lifestyle.”
“The lifestyle?”
“Yes.” He slid his hand to her collar and spanned it with his thumb and fingers. “They live full time as Dom and sub. He commands and she obeys.”
“It sounds…old-fashioned.” Imogen wasn’t sure about the obeying thing. She’d known friends who’d purposely had that removed from their wedding vows.
“It’s a symbiotic relationship,” Kane went on, smoothing his fingers around her collar and brushing her skin.
A small shiver ran down Imogen’s spine.
The woman was struck again—several times in fast succession.
Imogen stared at the spectacle.
“You see,” Kane said. “She needs to be adored, cared for, taken through life by the man she loves. He needs to protect her, satisfy her, ensure that everything is perfect for her at all times. That is what makes him feel complete.”
“And that includes this. Beating?”
“Beating, spanking, flogging, whatever you want to call it, yes, it includes this, because that’s what they both enjoy, it’s their thing. It’s their kink.”
Kane went quiet and Imogen watched as Master Zen stood directly behind his sub. He appeared to fiddle at his groin then his pants loosened around his hips. He pushed forward.
The woman arched her back and her cry echoed around the room.
He reached for her shoulders, dragged her onto him.
“He’s…” Imogen said.
“Yes. He’s clearly very pleased with her. She’s getting exactly what she wants tonight.” Kane’s voice was low and husky, as though the sight was turning him on.
Imogen watched, fascinated as the Dom began to fuck his woman with urgency. The sub couldn’t move, she was strapped down, but he was moving for them. Thrusting in and out, hard, frantic, gripping her shoulders, her hair, her hips. His hands were all over her.
Imogen’s knickers dampened and she shifted within Kane’s arms.
“Would you like to get fucked like that?” Kane whispered.
Imogen half turned to him, his words a shock, despite where they were and what they were watching.
“Tell me,” he said, cupping her cheek and holding her face. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”
“I…” Imogen was breathing heavily. Fuck. What was she thinking? That she wanted to get fucked like that? She wanted to feel the flogger?
“Would you like to be her, on that table, with Master Zen taking you to the exquisite high she is rocketing towards right now?” Kane asked. “Red and sore, filled to the max? Nothing else in your mind except claiming that pleasure?”
She did, but it wasn’t Master Zen she wanted behind her, yanking her hair, scratching and marking her skin. Sinking deep, so deep. Filling her to bursting point.
It was Kane, or K as he was known here. It was him she wanted.
“Imogen,” Kane murmured, his mouth almost touching hers. “Talk to me.”
“Yes.” The word scratched from her throat. “But—”
He pressed his thumb over her lips, flattening them against her teeth. “No buts. Or if there are, tell me later.” He gave a brief smile. “Yes is enough.”

About Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, best-selling author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave 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 Silk Tie, The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae - check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set 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

Thursday, 19 February 2015

The Kelpie

Hello - here's my newest piece of art/fiction for you.

I'm talking about this and story inspiration over at the Brit Babes today - come on over and tell me what inspires you...
x x x

Saturday, 14 February 2015

Happy Valentine's day!!!

Hope you have a lovely sexy day! And be super lovely to yourself too x x x hop on over to the Brit Babes for a super hot blog hop and prizes!

I'm off to do romance stuff ;)

Tuesday, 10 February 2015

Capture Cupid Blog Hop!

Oh boy - oh boy! It's a HUGE day for me and you guys - first of all... It's the 10th of February which means it's my day to host the Chemical [se]X Capture Cupid Blog HOP!
Second of all click here for the launch day news of Sexy Just Got Rich - filthy stories of the filthy rich from the Brit Babes :D

Back to the chocolate and sex fest which is Chemical [sex] - come join our horny literary party and win lots of prizes - all you have to do is comment on this and any other participant's blog and you'll be put in a sexy draw. And in the spirit of a good orgy, the more times you take part, the more chances you have of hitting that sweet spot in the draw! And that counts here too - show me some love and leave me lots of comments...

Here's the trailer for this extremely erotic book - *warning, reading this book may induce feelings of sexual euphoria and serious chocolate cravings!

As an extra prize - any comments received here on this post will also be put in the draw for one of my solo erotic ebooks - click here to see which one tickles your fancy. Remember to leave your email address so we can contact you about your prize.

£25/$37 Gift voucher for Belle De Soir!
And now to the other mouth watering delicious sensual prizes you can win to make your Valentine's the sexiest, sultriest ever... take a look at the piccies while I tell you my own tale of Capturing Cupid...

I've always loved Valentine's Day for as long as I can remember. The lead up, the waiting, the anticipation..

Will they figure out my handwriting, I hope not! I hope so! Will they find it? Will they figure out the little intricate treasure hunt to the little handmade box with the single Loveheart sweetie inside? (ok, ok, yes, I couldn't resist and ate the rest...)
And then, the even more exciting... will I get any? Will my hands be trembling as I lift the fragrant red envelope? Will the writing be done in the left hand to avoid exposing the sender's true identity?
First by Jacob Louder and Cream by Lana Fox
eBooks from Go Deeper press

Sometimes I'd get a handmade card - the ones we made in art class, with scrawling immature text.

A $10 gift card for Seatle Chocolates from Oleander Plume!
But my favourite was the one that came through the post. How sophisticated! The beautifully scripted handwriting sloping to the right - the slant of a much more mature admirer. I'd trace my fingers over my name, thinking how pretty it looked on paper compared to how it sounded out loud...

Every year my secret admirer would send me a Valentine, scented with a floral bouquet and written in the beautiful script.

This has continued into my adult life and while I may not send so many out, I still look forward with excitement to my lovely card.

A paperback copy of the book itself!
Signed by the author of your choice...
It took me several years to uncover the identity of my secret admirer. I begun to get suspicious when when the familiarity of the font spilled over into my birthday cards... especially when, over time, the writing has become shaky and a little less precise...

Yes, my lovely Granny was the one to make me feel like the most popular girl in town!

I never directly confronted her over it, but she gave me a wink one year and told me, "A lady should always have a secret admirer."

I read somewhere that Gypsy Rose Lee's mother would send out bouquets of flowers to Gypsy Rose after every performance... how wonderful.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Remember to comment for a chance to win these fancy prizes!
And click my ass (this piccy) for a list of books to choose
from if you win my bonus prize! 
Here's the others:
February 1 – Jacob Louder
February 2 – Malin James
February 3 – Exhibit A
February 4 – Jade A. Waters
February 5 – Annabeth Leong
February 6 – C. E. Hansen
February 7 - L. Maretta
February 8 - Ella Dawson
February 9 – F. Leonora Solomon
February 10 – Tabitha Rayne (ME - right here!)
February 11 – Tamsin Flowers
February 12 – Oleander Plume
February 13 – Dario Dalla Lasta

February 14 – winners will be announced at!!!!

And remember - comment as many times as you can to increase your chances!

And if you can't wait until the 14th to find out if you've won - click here to download a free copy of Sexy Just Walked into Town by the Brit Babes - go grab it now!

Click here for the launch of Sexy Just Got Rich!
Happy Valentine's Day - mwoah x x x

Wishing you many mystery admirers!

Oooo, ooo! News just in! There's been another fabulous prize added to the pot!

Happy Valentine's Day! x x x x

Monday, 9 February 2015

Sexy Just Got Rich! Book launch!

Out now!
Sexy Just Got Rich
From The Brit Babes 
Here's a trailer to get you in the mood...

With filthy stories of the filthy rich from all the Brit Babes! Lexie Bay
Victoria Blisse
Natalie Dae
Harlem Dae
Lucy Felthouse
K D Grace
Lily Harlem
Kay Jaybee
Tabitha Rayne

Click me for more info...


Here's a wee snippet to get you in the mood

Champagne and Tits

Tabitha Rayne

Bosoms. Breasts. Tits. Funbags. Nipples.

Whatever. I am completely indifferent to them. They do nothing for me. I like looking at them on other women but mine are of no consequence to me. Well that’s not true—Jim adores mine. He says they are perfectly made to fit in his cupped palm. He sometimes comes up to me from behind and slides his hands up to hold them, knead them, letting the nipples slide between his fingers as he does. Teasing, pressing, coaxing.


They just aren’t sensitive at all. I know it saddens Jim but they really just aren’t. I’ve heard of women who can climax from nipple stimulation alone. My breasts are so insensitive that I can’t even muster envy for that kind of experience—I wouldn’t know how to even imagine what that would be like.

Jim has made it his mission to give me a sexual response through my breasts—I really wish he wouldn’t. It isn’t unpleasant having attention lavished on my bosom but there are far more exciting and stimulating parts that could be attended to. Take the crook of my arm… oh my god… nibble on the inside of my elbow and I will do anything you want… anything. There is a path with a very distinct trail leading from there to my clitoris. All the nerve endings are in perfect alignment on that particular journey, oh yes.

Or my shoulders, or the vulnerable fleshy bit of my arm just where is reaches my underarm—I’m squirming and wriggling just to think of it.

But tonight, I know it; Jim has something planned for me. He’s been looking at my tits all day and there’s champagne in the fridge—some Krug left over from my most recent event. He’s even chilled the flutes in the freezer.

“Strip.” He commands as he presses play on the music remote. My favourite sex song plays, bassy and seductive. I sway and peel away what little clothes I have on and drop them to the floor, leaving my heels and panties. His gaze skims over my body and comes to rest, as I knew it would, on my breasts. I pre-empt his request by taking them in hand and squeezing the nipples to the hypnotic pulse of the beats.

He backs out of the room to the kitchen, eyes still fixed on me, to get the champagne. The best I could find to woo potential clients last night. I’m not sure if they were impressed by my presentation or not, but no matter, gaining new clientele has almost become a sport rather than proper business, lord knows I don’t need the money. Jim seems to like it though, spending it anyway. He has a good eye and catching a glimpse of myself in the gilt mirror opposite, I see evidence of his talents in the underwear I’m wearing. Classy. Silk. Very damn expensive. Designer, apparently, very exclusive though I’ve never heard of them. All this money doesn’t sit right with me at all. I am patron of many charities and clubs yet still, I can’t help the feeling that I’m cheating. It’s as if I don’t feel worthy of such riches. That’s why I feel lucky to have Jim. Even though it’s my own money, he lavishes me with all the luxury I deny myself. The pop of the cork sends shivers of anticipation through me. He expertly holds the stems in one hand and pours with the other. Foam spills over his knuckles and I lick my lips. He keeps pouring until the glasses brim. He puts down the bottle and hands me a drink.

“Down half a glass and no more.”

I do as he says, the cold bubbles chill me with delight and it feels good to swallow a big mouthful over my throat instead of the usual delicate sips.

“On all fours.” Taking my glass, he tips his head and drinks the rest of bubbly then reaches the bottle to top it up again.

No fair, I think while settling my knees into the softest bit of rug.

He examines me for a few moments then kneels at my side, looking at my swinging breasts as if assessing them. He fills the two glasses a little more and looks back at me. He cups one of my boobs and puts a glass beneath it. I hunch my back like an angry cat to get away from the cold liquid.

“What are you doing?” I ask, a little nervous.

“Just trust me.”


Go on - treat yourself to a copy today :D 

In other news - join me today at the Capture Cupid Hop here and WIN PRIZES!!!

As a bonus download the Brit Babes first book Sexy Just Walked Into Town - today for FREE!!!