by Mlissa | Apr 2, 2014 | Guest blogs
Why be tempted by one man’s seduction when you can be loved by three?
Liquid Silver Books- http://www.lsbooks.com/sinful-surrender-p893.php
Top psychic spy Fay Avalon saw too much on her latest mind traveling mission and is now on the run from her post-catastrophic dystopian government, searching for the truth and proof. She escapes but is shot down, landing in the arms of the enemy.
In Drakker and Arlo’s world, women are so rare the men have accepted a polyandrous lifestyle. When the brothers stumble upon Fay unconscious in the wreckage of an aircraft, they are immediately attracted to her. Arlo wants to keep her, but Drakker knows they can’t. They must take her to their brother Logan Abán, leader of their people.
Logan struggles with trusting anyone, even himself. When a beautiful, intelligent, and intriguing woman falls into their laps, his denied desires for intimacy challenge his need to trust the spy. He’s frustrated by romantic Arlo’s claims of her innocence. Even when pragmatic and dominating Drakker defends her as well, Logan refuses to trust his gut.
Can one woman satisfy the diverse desires of three men? Will Logan’s fears be realized by betrayal? Is Fay to be sentenced to death as a spy, suffer a fate worse than death by being returned to her government as a traitor, or will she find a new life and love as the wife of three sexy brothers?
At her silence, he stripped off his shirt. A prickle of heat flushed down her neck as she watched his arm muscles flex with the movement. She had the strongest impulse to touch his smooth, tanned skin. She fought the urge to reach out, but curiosity plagued her. Would it feel warm and silky, unlike the pasty Dirt Dweller men who never made her core throb like this? She shook her head and looked away, resisting the desire. But she couldn’t stop her gaze from returning to him as he tossed the shirt down and hooked his thumbs over his large silver buckle. His actions dropped his pants a tempting two more inches below his hipbones, exposing the lower half of his hard stomach. Except for the hair on his head, the man’s body was hairless. Those pants were riding low enough to show some pubic hair by now, but there wasn’t any. She continued to stare at his thumbs, hoping his pants would fall another inch lower.
“Beautiful lady?” Arlo tilted his head down, capturing her attention when his long, semisweet-chocolate hair slipped over his muscled shoulder. Her breath caught in her chest. Something about his long hair added to his sexual attractiveness. The temptation to caress his physique and run her fingertips through his silky-looking hair was overwhelming. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her hands tucked where they were.
“Ah, hmm.” The clearing of his throat drew her gaze up. He gave a cocky smile. “If you keep looking at me with that hungry look in those stunning violet eyes of yours…I’ll be honest, I don’t think I can stop myself from kissing you.”
In her world, modesty was expected. Though reluctant, she dropped her admiring scrutiny. Her pounding heart made her feel dizzy.
“Well.” Arlo’s tone was low as he slowly moved into her space while reaching out to pull her closer to him. The soft scent of sage filled her senses.
She didn’t resist his embrace as he whispered in her ear, “I’ll be damned if that reaction wasn’t more of an invitation than a rejection.”
Captivated by the sexy sound of his voice and the words he spoke, she didn’t argue with his observation. She wanted him to kiss her. No Dirt Dweller would ever confess to lusting for a woman as Arlo just did. Just the thought he desired her and let it be known made her heart beat faster. The idea of a man lusting for a woman was sinfully enticing. Guilt washed over her, but didn’t stay. She didn’t care how many prayers of forgiveness she would have to say for this moment of passion. It would be worth it.
Arlo leaned back a smidgeon and angled his head down until their gazes met. He briefly paused as if silently asking permission to kiss her. This time she refused to look away. He gave a sexy smirk and a wink before slipping his hand behind her neck in a seductive move bringing her mouth toward his succulent lips. His lips merged with her willing mouth in a heated kiss. Their bodies followed, pressing into each other. She couldn’t get close enough to him.
He broke the kiss and murmured next to her ear, “If I’m moving too fast for you, tell me.” He kissed her again not waiting for her answer. Fay couldn’t think of a reason to stop him, nor did she want to.
His mouth was soft and warm. His kiss lingered on her lips, and the warmth between her thighs moistened her panties. She glided her hands over him as she molded her body into his. Every inch of her flesh craved him. She was hungry to feel his body’s heat sizzle against hers. She imagined what he might look like naked. Lusty images swirled around in her mind as her heart filled with passion. Every cell in her body desired him.
Fay ravished every inch of his exposed skin with her fingers. She raked them up and down his back never having felt a man’s body like this. He was so hard and muscular. The sensation was driving her libido wild. In a moment of clarity she realized what she was doing. She’d been raised to know she was acting in a shameless and disgraceful manner. Teachings, not belief, made her pull away from him. She’d never done anything like this before. It had to be the fresh air. Maybe the levels of oxygen were higher here compared to her Underworld’s limited supply.
He slipped his fingers along the closure of her flight suit making her skin heat with wanton desire.
“Now, I’m getting distracted,” he said, pinching the pull tab of her zipper between his fingers and sliding it downward.
Her breasts bounced with each rousing breath she took.
“I’m here to see you get a bath, my little filly. Are you going to get undressed, or am I going to have to do it for you?”
http://youtu.be/TI3Cf_3bcpk (long version)
Erotic romance author Houston Havens, a former successful model enjoying an adventurous jet-set lifestyle, intrigues her readers with a mix of the past, present, and future, and sexy blends of futuristic science fiction, paranormal fantasy, and western romance, always with love everlasting. A tenacious Irish lass filled with passion and mystery hopes her sultry stories will entertain and fascinate those who dare to take the journey. She’s also a social media junkie with an award winning blog. http://houstonhavens.wordpress.com
Newsletter signup: https://www.facebook.com/HoustonHavens/app_100265896690345
Author Page: http://www.lsbooks.com/houston-havens-c439.php
by Mlissa | Sep 1, 2012 | Guest blogs
Well hello all you beautiful readers of erotic romance!!!
I tell ya, walking into this gorgeous website, I let out a long, astonished whistle. Felt like I’d done become famous. Thank you madam for having me at your decadent little palace on the web! I’ll be browsing in a minute!
Well, I’m here as a guest, so, I better start acting like one and get down to business. The business of writing sex. Girl porn? I’ve heard it called that and snicker. Nothin’ wrong with liking and wanting it all, the whole deal, a strong yet tender loving man who really knows how to have mind blowing sex. And if that defines girl porn, then give me some bunny ears, cause I’m one proud girl porn star!
Honestly, I’m a family woman. I have eight children with one on the way. I’m a stay at home mom and live in Louisiana, the Cajun heartland, where the foods are as diverse and spicy as the books I love writing. Speaking of which, I’m not as seasoned a writer as I plan to be, I’m still marinating. But I take my writing to heart like I do my cooking, eating, and reading. I like it perfect. And while I know it ain’t, the heart is in it, and to me, that’s where it’s at. Oddly enough my first book was Christian Fantasy. I guess that’s understandable, seeing as I played somewhat of a Mother Theresa all the day long. But once I got a taste of penning my passion, oh boy, did passion begin to fly. It happened in book two of my “Christian Fantasy” where my couple became “one”. Whooowee did they ever. And for the life of me, I could not hide it, could not write it behind closed doors, and well, I’d written myself right out of a damn genre. Christian Erotica has not yet stormed the market. But give it time. I hope it does. And hell, who knows, maybe my first books will be at the forefront of that storm.
So, it became clear that I could not write Christian Erotica. I wanted desperately to write both but they just didn’t mix. Then Rone Kreed, my hero from The Devil Wants A China Doll was born, right out of a weird ass dream. Well, I told you my writing is as diverse and spicy as the Cajun culture, and I wasn’t kidding!
Rone Kreed wants Sheeku in every way imaginable. Which is kind of impossible when possessed with a demon who devours souls with a kiss and spreads eternal damnation through his seed. But Sheeku has a power that protects her from the demon’s sadistic intoxicant, tempting Rone to play ever closer to the fires of her innocent, yet demanding desires. When he learns that protecting her from her warped mafia family will require his hand in marriage, exorcism becomes imperative. Because he’s one sweet beg away from surrendering to the woman he’s fallen in love with, and giving the demon her angelic soul.
Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable.
See? Not your small town country girl flavor, I’d say. But dark, mysterious, damaged, and in need of love. Tell me which one of us women cannot relate or at least hunger to?
I love my hero. There were times when I’d damn near called out his name during sex! I mentioned it to my husband in a joking pass and he just rolled his eyes. Me and my books.
Well, my books have given me purpose. I know what you’re thinking, damn, with 9 kids, you lack purpose? Well, not in the mothering department, no, but in the woman department, I feel as though I’ve never really been one. And now that my passion has come alive, I don’t know how not to be one! And honestly, sometimes I’m a little too much woman to handle, and so where my husband falls short, my erotica takes up the slack.
It was really nice meeting you all. I hate long winded people, so, I’m stopping here. But I’m leaving you with the voice of my hero. The Devil Wants A China Doll is written in our hero’s voice, first person point of view! I told you I liked it different and hot!
I did more than circle the block, I drove around the small city for thirty minutes trying to figure out how to get her to tell me who those guys were, what was up with her, why was she wearing goggles and staying at the worst hotel in Washington, and how was she bypassing my shields. And would she come home with me.
“You cold? Too warm?” I glanced at her, wishing she’d give me more than a profile. Her fear only subsided to a low-level terror, leaving my muscles still set to murder on demand. I turned in the direction of home, fighting for nonchalance. “Look, you can stay at my house tonight, okay?”
Two blocks of breath holding later, she finally answered. “Not right for a woman to stay at a man’s home…I think.”
I think? Sounded like she regretted the rule. Definitely. “Well, then stay at another hotel, not there.”
“Have no more money. Have paid all to them for the month.”
I shrugged. “No problem. I’ll pay for you to stay someplace else.”
“Cannot let you pay.”
I glanced at her, both annoyed and amazed with her decency. No wonder my devil wanted her so bad; she’d make quite the trophy once spoiled. The idea made me want to protect her more, but that would mean getting her the hell away from me. “Well, what then? I have a spare bedroom. It’s just me, and my handicapped friend I take care of. He’s like a brother to me.” What else? “There’s even a lock on the bedroom door, and if that’s not good enough, I’ll sleep in my car and you can have the entire house.” I shut the heater off.
She suddenly turned those annoying goggles at me. “I can sleep in the car. You take your own home.”
“What? No way, never!” I turned down the street to my home. “My mother would kill me if she knew I let a woman sleep in my car when there was a perfectly fine spare room in my house.” It was pure evil to use my mother, dead for over twelve years, but that threw a wrench in her conflict.
She stuttered a few times while I tapped my thumb against the steering wheel. You’re trying too hard. “Come on, what about this gift of yours? Helps you see…bad people? Plus I’m celibate,” I reminded. “That makes me like…a holy man. You have nothing to worry about.”
Any deeper in hell and I might be able to dig myself out the other side.
She made mouse sounds, twisted her hair, and then gave a slight smile. “I think this is fine. One time.”
“Yeah, yeah. One time. I mean I can trust you, right?” I shot her a glance. “You aren’t going to kill me in my sleep are you?”
That cute mouth of hers went slack in worry.
“I’m kidding.” I laughed. “I know you’re harmless.”
She looked away and down, reminding me about her so-called dangerous eyes. The idea of her being dangerous was…kind of adorable. She was more like a dark-haired angel with a really scarred complex and crazy, green swimming goggles.
I pulled into the driveway and led her through the main entrance of my house with the etched-glass double doors, compliments of eight years of combat pay in the marines.
“Very nice home.” She looked all around, openly amazed.
“Oh thanks,” I whispered, not wanting to wake Mr. Fifty Questions. “I got it mostly for Jeremy.” I turned and quietly clicked the lock into place. “He was kinda homeless all his life, and I thought he deserved something nice for a change.” I gestured to the sofa with a hand. “Have a seat. I’ll get your room ready.”
She nodded, still looking all around while walking to the white, leather couch. Maybe the lavish home would send all the right vibes. Successful. Responsible. Which could mean character. And character usually came with integrity. That could easily be interpreted as trustworthy. It was the first time I was glad to be OCD. Now that’s the serial killer mentality.
In the spare bedroom, one sniff of the stale air wrinkled my nose. Wait, I could offer her the master suite. Black, silver, tan decor with jade accents…all that suede and silk… Yeah, that was perfect for her.
Then you’ll have to explain why you don’t live in it. Why didn’t he? Had to be that it reminded him of his presidential suite at the coven mansion.
I regarded the khaki-colored spare bedroom, twin bed, single-drawer mahogany side table. This was neutral. Normal. I nodded at that message. That’s what her bedroom should say, not will you be my mistress.
I hurried to my bathroom down the hall, retrieved some cologne, then ran back and doused the carpet and curtains. My eyes watered, and I waved my hand in the air and coughed. “Shit.” I opened the window and used a pillow to swoop some fresh air in.
Back in the living room, I found Sheeku perched on the edge of the couch the way I had left her.
Act like she’s been here for five years. Don’t even look at her.
“Your room is ready.” I headed for the small kitchen joining the living room. Damn. It was four in the morning. “Come eat something,” I insisted quietly, getting out leftovers. I turned from the fridge with the last dish and found her at the breakfast bar. Okay…hungry? Starving?
“I will clean.” She matched my quiet tone.
I took a second to get over how exotic her voice sounded at that level. Shit, she was toxic. I pulled a plate out of the cabinet. “I will clean.” So she was a payer. I could definitely work that. “It’s a deal. I hate cleaning.” Lie number ten.
She smiled with a little nod, making me want to see her without the stupid goggles. Pulling a glass out of the cabinet, I suggested, “Why don’t you…take the goggles off now that we’re inside.”
She gave an emergency head shake.
“Okay, okay,” I mumbled, loading her plate with a soldier amount of food before slipping it into the microwave. I turned and leaned against the counter, finding her by the fireplace mantel looking at pictures. Damn, she was fast. And quiet. Hope she didn’t ask personal questions. Focusing on her meal, I got her a fork and napkin, then pulled out the pink lemonade and turned to find her back at the snack bar. “Shit.” Back again. She was goggling a five-by-seven picture in her hands.
“You do not have hair in this picture.” Curiosity colored her voice another shade of exotic, if that were possible. She aimed her invisible gaze at me.
I leaned and looked at the picture of me and my buddy, Dexter, fresh in the marines. “Nope, no hair there.”
“Now you have such long hair.”
I scratched a nonexistent itch on my cheek and shrugged. “Yeah, that I do.”
“You are very beautiful…with long hair.”
I busted out laughing. “Then I guess it’s time to get a haircut.”
She didn’t find this funny. “Why?”
I turned up my brain volume, trying to think around the sweet offense in her tone. “Because I don’t…want to be beautiful?”
I chuckled at how her offense raised a notch. And how she obviously believed it totally cool for a guy to be beautiful. “’Cause I’m a guy.” How stupid that sounded.
“And you think…it is not good for a guy to be beautiful?”
I folded a dish towel into a perfect square, keenly aware of the illogical urge to be whatever the hell she wanted. “Well, it’s…” I shrugged. “You’re free to think guys can be beautiful. I mean it’s a matter of opinion, really.”
She studied the picture. “I think it is very nice for a man to be beautiful.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, calming my guts. “I see that. I guess I’m glad about it, then.”
She goggled me, lips tempted with laughter. “But I also think you are beautiful without hair. Especially your smile.” She looked back at the picture.
Smile? I leaned to look at what she saw. “But I’m…not really smiling there.”
She spoke lilting Chinese and flashed perfect teeth, perfect joy.
Was it possible for Chinese to feel like honey coating your insides?
“What did you say?”
“Say it reminds me of the sun peeking out of the clouds after it rains for so long.”
I looked down to hide my grin. “Oh.”
“Ahh, but that one is my favorite smile.” She shyly pointed her finger at me. “Like a sun that warms all things it touches.”
I shook my lowered head, face getting hotter by the second. My smile warmed her? “Okay, that’s enough about my beautiful, sunshine smile and hair. I’m starting to feel like a woman.”
Tinkly laughter brought my gaze up. “Impossible to look like a woman with your warrior body. I am very sure.”
The microwave dinged, saving me from more embarrassment. I got her food and set it before her, trying to hide what her words did to me. “It’s hot. Be careful.” I slid her pink lemonade and napkin next to her, focusing on not dumping it all.
She sang something in Chinese and picked up the fork, leaning to take a long sniff that produced more amazed sounds.
“I’m gonna…take a shower. You okay by yourself?”
She paused, her face square with mine, beautiful lips slightly parted. “Need to help with your injury. I forget about this.”
Oh yeah, me too. I reached up and felt for the gash, all pain blocked out by my shield. I found the sticky mat of hair. “I think it’ll be fine.”
She stood and held her hand out to me as if she wanted to lead me like a child to the doctor’s room. I looked down at her hand, fighting a smile at how sweet that was. And tempting.
“You cannot see,” she said. “Must help you.”
“Well, then, how about…I shower and you can look at it after?”
She dropped her hand, seeming to consider. “This is good.” She gave a permissive nod that made me feel like I should thank her.
“And you can eat.” I hitched my thumb at her food behind me. She looked too skinny, but it was difficult to be sure with her baggy clothing.
“Good. I’ll…go now,” I said.
“Yes, yes, so fine.” She seemed to sense my hesitancy and sat back at the snack bar.
While I was gone, I half worried she might turn into a figment of my imagination, so my shower was lickety-split. I hurried to my room in only jeans and had the misfortune of running into Sheeku, who stood like a blockade in the middle of the hallway. I took hold of the towel around my neck, trying to hide the giant demonic scar on my torso.Just…be normal. What a fucking joke. “Hey.”
Like a deer caught in headlights, she stood there, goggles locked on my body. Nothing like a six-foot dude in jeans with a multihorned demon burned across his front to make you feel right at home. By the gape of her mouth, I assumed her eyes were wide. It didn’t help that my muscles gave the monster a scary, real appearance.
I felt like a fucking abomination and that it was blasphemous for her to see it. “You can take a shower if you want. I can loan you some…”
She reached a hand toward me, and I held my breath. Her finger touched the side of my left hand and pushed.
I hesitated, wondering at the pulling, bubbly sensation that flooded the space between us. I didn’t wonder long. When I shut my eyes, I met her lavender aura. I opened my eyes, not wanting to miss anything, then obliged her and slid the towel off my neck. Flutters ripped through my stomach as she approached my scar with a fingertip. I stared at her face, trying to figure out what, or why…
I flinched at having her slender finger on my bare skin. She drew it back, but only barely. Scared, yet determined? Then I felt it. A pressure inside me right where her finger aimed again. She was seeking an opening. But to what? I focused my gaze on the trembling fingertip, watching her lower it down onto the mouth of my demon. I resisted the instinct to slap her hand away, not wanting her ever to touch him, worried he would somehow enter her.
Then she carefully traced the scar.
I watched the rise and fall of her chest. It soon sped up, and I clenched my fists, feeling the agony of my past gather inside me and answer her silent call.
Come to me, she seemed to call to it. Show yourself.
There was no denying her. Like a lost child, my pain ran to her, eager for her gentle, safe spirit, knowing she was a place it might find justice and finally rest.
There you have it. I hope you buy the book and enjoy it and tell all your friends of course! It’s a little cheaper at Amazon, think like five somethin’.
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