Brit Boys Blitz!!

OUT NOW - Brit Boys: On Boys #mm #gay #erotica #romance

Ooooo, I'm a tellin' ya - this will be a hottie! Some of my Brit Babe dolls and fab saucy pals are in this new anthology - check it out! It's on offer at the moment too - Tabitha x x

Brit Boys: On Boys is a collection of 8 M/M novellas written by 8 top British M/M authors. This smokin’ hot box set is initially available at the bargain price of 99c/99p, that’s a steal for 147,000 words/440 pages of unforgettable M/M erotic romance that will leave your eReader, and you, burning up. Be sure and grab your copy fast, as the price will be increasing at the end of January!

Buy links:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Blurb:

From east to west and north to south, these British boys are having a blast in and out of the bedroom with the men of their dreams. They’re topping and bottoming from London to Cardiff, living out fantasies in the wildest fells and hooking up while serving HRH Queen Elizabeth II.

With passion and lust the name of the game, nothing is off limits. Throw in honed muscles, high-strength testosterone and an accent to die for and there is nothing they can’t do and no one they can’t get in this world or another.

Bodywork

By Ashe Barker

Alex is doing okay. His body repair shop makes enough to live on, he has a decent apartment, life is fine. That all changes when he runs into Graham in a supermarket car park - literally. He offers to fix the damage to Graham’s car free of charge. The sparks soon fly, and the heat between them has nothing to do with welding equipment.

Breaking the Marine

By M.K. Elliott

Brandon Rosen hadn’t planned for his final night before enrolling in the Royal Marines to involve a hot stranger and a pub car park. And he certainly hadn’t planned for that same hot stranger to turn up at the barracks in the form of his Drill Instructor, Corporal Will Stewart. In the testosterone fuelled environment of the training camp, can Brandon and Will overcome past pains and face up to what they really want? Or will the Royal Marine Commando School break their relationship before it even gets started?

Love on Location

By Lucy Felthouse

When Theo Samuels heads off to film on location in the village of Stoneydale, he's expecting drama to take place on camera, not off. But when he meets gorgeous local lad, Eddie Henderson, he struggles to ignore his attraction. A relationship between the two of them would be utterly impractical, yet they're drawn together nonetheless. Can they overcome the seemingly endless hurdles between them? Or is their fling destined to remain as just that?

Landscapes

By K D Grace 

Alonso Darlington has a disturbing method of keeping landscaper, Reese Chambers, both safe from and oblivious to his dangerous lust for the man. But Reese isn’t easy to keep secrets from, and Alonso wants way more than to admire the man from afar. Can he risk a real relationship without risking Reese’s life?

The Chase

By Lily Harlem

Steve's killing time working in a comedy club. Why not? It makes him laugh and both the clientele and the comedians are not just fit but also great company. One stand up joker decides to create a wild goose chase for Steve and his ex Robert. Cavorting around Cardiff on a frosty night, however, does more than just show them the way to a threesome, it also reveals the reasons why they should give each other one more shot.

Dish of the Day

By Clare London

Richie’s sunk all his hopes and savings into a new restaurant in south London promoting British ingredients and recipes. His best friends Craig and Ben should be around to help him celebrate the grand opening, but it looks like it’s all heading for disaster - until his friends step in to tell him some home truths. Then they’ll help him relax and enjoy their loving, intimate menu instead.                   

E2

By Sarah Masters

When Archie meets Dan after The Change, he realises there is no such thing as a random meeting of soul mates, it's all mapped out in the stars. Now all he's got to do is hope those orbiting planets stay in alignment and true love finds him again.

Locked Out

By Josephine Myles

Getting accidentally locked out of his hotel room on Valentine's Day night is embarrassing enough for teacher Martin Cooper, but the fact he's stark naked makes it even worse. It doesn't help that the one person he runs into is Rod, the gorgeous man he'd been checking out earlier in the hotel pool. But when Rod offers Martin a refuge, the night heats up. Now if only Martin could get the hang of this seduction business...

Awesome British M/M Authors

Ashe Barker

M. K. Elliott

Lucy Felthouse

K D Grace

Lily Harlem

Clare London

Sarah Masters

Josephine Myles

Need more Brit Boys? Hang out with the authors on Facebook by joining the dedicated Brit Boys: On Boys group and pin with the authors on Pinterest.

If you enjoy Brit Boys: On Boys then please leave a review and tell all your friends. Happy reading. 

New book: Sapphic Smut - Tales of Lesbian Lust!

Sapphic Smut: Tales of Lesbian Lust Out Now!

Like your books with a little lady loving? Why not give this a try - I have a story in here called, The Shame - read on for the blurb and where to find it! x xx

Blurb:
Light hearted, sexy Sapphic smut is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Lucy Felthouse with assistance from Kev ‘Mitnik’ Blisse.

From coffee shops to exotic Indian adventures to cosy cabins in France, Sapphic Smut has it all. Fun with sugar, naughty spankings, seductions by strangers, seductions by friends, cougars and even a twist on a fairy tale abound in this exciting collection of lesbian stories from erotica’s finest authors.

This delicious girl-on-girl anthology contains stories from Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Louisa Bacio, Sallyanne Rogers, Vanessa de Sade, Tabitha Rayne (that's me!) and Elizabeth Coldwell.

Amazon
Other links
Editor’s Facebook page
Excerpt:
Alana really couldn’t believe how flat Holland was. She’d been told by many people, but somehow, she still wasn’t expecting a place that made Cambridgeshire look like the Peak District. Her view from the train as she travelled from Schiphol airport to Amsterdam’s Centraal Station was unimpeded. Not so much as a hillock was visible.
And now, here she was, standing outside the station with crowds milling around her. A mixture of tourists, businesspeople and natives. She herself was a combination of two of those groups—she was here on business, but she’d deliberately extended her trip so she could spend a couple of days exploring the city. She had a day either side of her meeting, the boring part a filling to a sightseeing sandwich. Though, despite the boring tag, the meeting definitely wasn’t a bad thing, it was an appointment to cross the ts and dot the is on a very lucrative deal—certainly the trip was worthwhile. After watching the insanity for another minute or so, she began to head away from the station, wheeling her small case along with her. Already armed with a guidebook and a decent map, she knew where she was going. Her map-reading skills were excellent, and she made the short walk to her hotel in less than twenty minutes. Anywhere else, she’d have gotten a cab, but it appeared they were a rare commodity in this city.
She’d checked in, dumped her bags and freshened up within another ten minutes, and was back on the street. An online acquaintance had sent her a bunch of information for her trip—about the best museums, interesting things to see that might not be in guidebooks, and details on transport. It appeared that Amsterdam was unlike London, Paris and Rome, in as much as it had trams as its preferred mode of transport, rather than underground trains. Only one Metro line ran through the city, north-to-south. Everywhere else was utterly dependent on trams, bikes and being on foot.
And fuck, there were a lot of bikes. They zipped here, there and everywhere, not always staying where they were supposed to be, it seemed. The slim Dutch people atop the bikes were oblivious, just concentrating on getting where they were going.
Alana searched for the nearest tram stop, and quickly discovered she needed to be on the other side of the road to head in the right direction. Crossing the road was a chore in itself. A dice with death. She’d thought Rome’s motorists were insane, but at least they were fairly predictable. Here, she was faced with crossing a road that held a cycle path, a tram line and a lane for cars. Shifting down the pavement, she stood at the conveniently placed crossing. It still didn’t make things much easier, but at least she could mingle in with the crowd. Traffic was much more likely to stop if it was going to hit a crowd of people than a single pedestrian. Right? By some miracle, she reached the opposite pavement unscathed—except for her nerves, which were shot—and approached the tram stop. As if by magic, a tram arrived, and it was the correct number.
Things were looking up.
After a few minutes, she realised that public transport in Amsterdam was nowhere near as easy to navigate as in the other major cities she was familiar with. There, their Tube or Metro stations always had plenty of large, unmissable signs telling you where you were. Piccadilly Circus, Anvers, Piramide. Here, it seemed you were left to your own devices. There were announcements on board the tram, but they were in Dutch—a language which she knew very little of—incredibly muffled, and pretty much drowned out by the sound of the tram’s motion and its passengers...

Here's a wee snippet of my story, The Shame:

I've always been ashamed of my own fantasies so when Dione came crashing though the door I could have died with mortification.

“What the hell are you up to?” She looked shocked and amused at my twisted form as I  scrabbled about trying to hide my pretty things. The corset I'd been attempting to wrap around my middle hung stupidly down my hip, the long laces dangling at my feet. I tried to smile and join in Dione's laughter at my predicament but I knew it hadn't reached my eyes by the way she suddenly turned solemn and came to me.

“Hey, hey come on now,” she said while her arm slid around my shoulder, “what's with the tears?”

Even worse.

I hadn't realised I was crying.

“Nothing, I just...” I shrugged and dropped the corset and it landed in a heap of tangled cords and bones. My face burned. I was hunched and naked standing in front of my housemate as she confusedly looked round my room, kindly not mentioning the vibrator on my pillow. I was struck dumb. Struck dumb and frozen. I knew what she was thinking – she was thinking; what the hell is this weird boy female doing with such finery as a corset. She'd only ever seen me in figure hiding baggy jeans and tee-shirts. She must think me me ridiculous to try and be anything remotely womanly.

She reached out again and I recoiled. Her touch was so soft on the back of my hand as she gently turned my palm out to face her. Somehow I feared my secrets would spill, as if I were trying to cup water from a stream.

“Listen, I'm sorry I barged in.” Her voice was so tender I wondered if I could flick my eyes to hers. “Come on, look at me, it's fine.” Her other hand gently took my chin and lifted it so I had no choice but to look.

“I, I...” But I still couldn't express myself. What must she think of me. A mute, a freak.

“It's fine – this is my fault, you've nothing to be ashamed of. It's me who should be ashamed, bursting in and making you feel bad.” I looked away trying to process the information. Somewhere, deep inside, a tiny portion of my brain told me to listen to her. To believe her words. And before the other crippling destructive side could take over, I listened.

“Thank you,” I whispered and she let go of me and stooped to gather up the corset. As she straightened back up, her hair almost brushed my thighs and I wobbled. My breathing even more shallow as she cast her eyes over my body as she rose.

“You're very beautiful, you know Cass,” she said as her eyes lingered...

Go on... treat yourself! :D

Sapphic Smut

Burning Books, Burning Skin

Well, how are you all doing?
I'm in a hazy glow of OMG! I have been having a hard time with my writing recently which contradicts the amount that is coming out. It's funny how it works - I've just received my author copy of this thought provoking anthology edited by the amazing Remittance Girl from Burning Press Books. It's all about expressing the erotic through body modification and I am delighted that my story was accepted for this. Remittance Girl said she was looking for work that displayed jouissance - what a word. What a word!

Anyway - here's a tiny little snippet from my story... hope you enjoy!

The One 
Tabitha Rayne


As she runs the tip of her tongue over the ridges – the un-natural ridges that I created, I try and hold myself steady. Try not to retreat inside myself and tell her to leave.

She is at the first.

She is going to go through every single one of them in chronological order, I know it. I fight the urge to pull my black polo neck back over my nakedness and hide away.

“Shhh,” she soothes, her soft firm voice at once cradles and commands. “Let me do this.”

I wonder at her perception. She can sense the tiniest shift in my body, my mood, my thought pattern. It’s disconcerting and comforting at the same time and I sigh away my tension, forcing my body down into the carpet. She’s told me she’ll melt me. I don’t believe her but she seems determined enough.

She’s onto the next. Her hot little tongue flirting with the ragged bumps. The crass ones, before I learned to control myself. Before I’d perfected my art. Half of me wishes she’d skip those and get to the beautiful ones, but I don’t say anything, I just concentrate on unfurling the tight, cringing nerve endings that keep me bound into my own skin.

“This is where it started,” she’s onto the third. And she’s right. How can she know that? How can she tell the first two were afterthoughts, a result of a furious outburst?

“Yes,” I hear myself whisper, the tremor in my voice far too apparent. She’ll be angry. Will she?

 “Yes, this is the one when you began to know who you are.”

“How can you tell?” I ask, curiosity suddenly dispelling my nerves.

“It’s smoother.” I lift my upper body to study the arm she’s holding in her hands. It’s my arm. But today, it feels disconnected.

“Only slightly,” I say, a little fearful of contradicting her.

“Yes, but it’s deliberate. It took time to do this one.”...


So there you have it - hope you're enticed to read on.
Get your copy from Burning Press Books now

x x x

Sexy Just Walked into Town - oh yeah!

Well lookee here my lovelies - my Brit Babe ladies and I have been working hard on a top secret gift for you and your reading pleasure - here you are - mwoah!

A VALENTINE’S DAY PRESENT, JUST FOR YOU – THE BRIT BABES ANTHOLOGY - “SEXY JUST WALKED INTO TOWN” - GO GRAB YOUR FREE/DISCOUNTED COPY THEN CURL UP WITH YOUR LOVER AND GET IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE. 

Available FREE!

Sexy Just Walked Into Town is a collection of delicious erotic and romantic stories from the Brit Babes. This group of eight British authors, which I’m proud to belong to, have put together a book of tales to tease and tantalise you, each one a sample of the individual Babes’ voices and styles. You’ll find contemporary, BDSM, same-sex loving, ménage a trois, paranormal, sporty, military, Rubenesque and more. There’s something to suit everyone here including a few Brit Babe collaborations.

Ranging from sweetly vanilla to so-hot-it-will-blow-your-mind, the Brit Babes aim to please in every literary fantasy department. Their heroes are strong, determined and soul-achingly divine and their heroines sassy, sexy and not afraid to grab what they want. Passion and pleasure is the name of the game, romance and raunch a top priority and it all comes with a delightful sprinkle of kink.

With a whole host of awards, best-sellers and accolades between us, the Babes know you’ll find something in this anthology that will keep you turning the pages and squirming on your seat. Then, if you like what you read, check out the individual authors’ websites to investigate their collection of published works. Also visit the Brit Babes' home on the web which acts as a library for the hundreds of books we’ve published. Tell your friends, spread the word, because one thing you can be sure of, is when the Brit Babes arrive, sexy has just walked into town!

And please, if you enjoy this anthology, leave a review. The Babes will be forever grateful.

Happy Valentine's Day!

BRIT BABES

Lexie Bay 

Victoria Blisse 

Harlem Dae 

Natalie Dae 

Lucy Felthouse

K D Grace 

Lily Harlem 

Kay Jaybee 

Ruby Madsen 

Sarah Masters 

Tabitha Rayne 

AVAILABLE FROM

AMAZON UK

AMAZON

AMAZON CA

AMAZON AU

ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS - FREE

SMASHWORDS  - FREE

Lots of love from The Brit Babes x x x

Coming Together - With Curves

I'm delighted to introduce you to this wonderful anthology - not only will you be taken to giddy erotic heights, you will be supporting Parkinson's Uk.

Coming Together: With Curves, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse

Curvy girls and the men (and women!) that love them is the theme of this charity anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From Zumba classes to Burlesque dancers, all kinds of big and beautiful women are portrayed between the pages of this book. Read about birthday surprises, smut at the gym, horse riders, lusty couples, naughty neighbours, skilled bakers, rope bondage and misunderstandings from some of erotica’s best authors.

Sales proceeds benefit Parkinson’s UK.

Contents: Six Lengths of Red Hemp (Tilly Hunter), Cross Trainer Number Four (Lily Harlem), Bella Buxom, Just Squeeze Me (JoAnne Kenrick), Captivated (Elizabeth Lapthorne), Red Rag to a Bull (Victoria Blisse), Girl Next Door (Bella Blake), Lush Buns (Sommer Marsden), The Big Reveal (Giselle Renarde), The Wrong End of the Stick (Lucy Felthouse), Riding School (Bella Blake), Flesh For Fantasy (Lexie Bay).

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/coming-together-with-curves/

*****

Bonnie stifled a sigh. He was doing it again. Staring at her, as he had been every day that week. She was on a fortnight’s training course through work. She was the only one from her office who’d been sent. As a result, she knew no one and ended up sitting alone in the college’s cafeteria at lunchtimes. She’d had a couple of invites from kindly people also on her course, but she’d turned them down. It wasn’t that she was being rude or anti-social, she just hated people to see her eat. She was a big girl—that was putting it politely—and when people saw her eat, she could feel the judgment rolling off them in waves, the thoughts that she was fat because she ate so much.

It wasn’t true. About what she ate, that was. She was fat, and there was no denying it. But it certainly wasn’t her doing. She’d been born to large parents, and despite a healthy diet and plenty of exercise, she was still overweight. All she ever managed to shift was a pound or two here and there, and that was hardly noticeable, particularly on a woman her size. She kept at it, though, resigned to being a larger lady, but determined not to get any bigger.

Because she’d always been big, she was used to the snide comments, the dirty and derisive looks, the open stares. So it didn’t upset her any more, but she still got irritated when people simply gawped at her. Surely one glance was enough for them to ascertain that yes, she was a shapely girl, and then move on. In most cases it was, particularly if she glared at the person in question. But not with this guy. She was sure he was trying to be subtle, because he often averted his gaze as she trained hers on him. But even if he’d looked away, she could tell by the position of his head and body that he’d been peeking at her. Again.

Now, on day seven, she was almost at boiling point. What the hell was his problem? Had no one ever told him it was rude to stare? She was on the verge of doing just that.

Eating her lunch was an unpleasant task, knowing she was being observed. If she hadn’t been so damn hungry, she’d have left it. But she’d been running late that morning and had committed that mortal sin—missing breakfast. So her chicken salad—with no dressing—was absolutely necessary to avoid making herself feel ill, or passing out, so she devoured every last morsel. She ate faster than she normally would, not because she was being greedy, but because the sooner she finished eating, the sooner she’d stop feeling so damn self-conscious about the guy across the room watching her.

She decided to give him one last chance. When she’d finished her lunch, she’d drink her carton of apple juice, then sit for a few seconds, doing nothing. If he continued to look at her, she was going to stomp over there and give him what for. If he didn’t, then she’d carry on with life and do her best to forget about him and his rudeness.

Deep down, she knew she was going to have to go over and say something to him. After seven days, he wasn’t going to suddenly amend his habits. She was just being a bit of a wimp, really, hoping to find some way of getting out of confrontation, because she didn’t like it, not one bit, and it was absolutely a last resort. Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of a single other way of stopping him from doing it. Perhaps she could put up a sign in front of her saying “Please stop staring at me.” But if he couldn’t take the hint when she’d glared at him, he wouldn’t take any notice of a piece of paper.

Several minutes later, her salad was gone and she moved onto her drink. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she saw he was just as interested in her now as he had been when she’d been eating. Damn, confrontation it was then.

Draining the carton, she gathered her plate, cutlery and other rubbish onto her tray, stood up and slid it onto the rack nearest her. Then she returned to her table, grabbed her bag, pulled in a deep breath through her nostrils and marched over to the Peeping Tom. She slid out the chair opposite him and sat down on it.

*****

Editor sites:

http://victoriablisse.co.uk

http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk

The Call of the Sea with Justine Elyot

It's another insight into the authors behind Smut By The Sea - and today Justine Elyot is with me to talk about the lure of the ocean...

The sea calls to me. I can live away from it, but I'm always relieved when I'm back by the shore. I like all forms of seaside settlement, and there are so many different ones to choose from. Even the industrial landscapes you find at the mouths of great rivers fascinate and inspire me – the belching chimneys, the looming cranes, the chemical colours in the sky behind. There's a grandeur to it all.

Then there are fishing villages with multi-coloured cottages winding down the cobbled hill to the harbour. Genteel retirement resorts full of neat parks and gardens and Victorian shelters on the prom. Loud, blaring strips of roller-coasters and flashing lights. I love 'em all.

Seaside towns are not like other places. They lure a transient population and their microcosm of society is accordingly skewed. I played on this idea in my 2011 Carina Press novel, Erotic Amusements, and it's just as relevant to my story in Smut By The Sea. People pass through seaside towns – and not just the tourists. Sometimes they settle, but often they drift on to the next place. Mark, the faded crooner who plays the Winter Gardens in Love In The Low Season, is a case in point. Like so many people who come to the shore, he's looking for a reason to stay.

Does he find it in my story? I'd like to think so.

Find out if he really does! Here's those special magic links to lead you to the truth...

Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
iBooks
Barnes & Noble
To find out more about Justine's writing (and if you like great erotica, I absolutely recommend that you do!) why not visit her site - http://justineelyot.com/