A Snog for Sommer

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Readers, today I’m taking part in the “Snog for Sommer” event hosted by Smut For Good

We love a bit of Smut for good over here at Blisse towers and what is better than getting sexy and contributing to a good cause? Doing that and have it help out someone you know.

Sommer Marsden is a fantastically talented erotic romance author, Check out her blog, pick up a book or three, you won’t regret it!

Not only is she very talented she’s an all-round lovely lady. Anyone who’s had the pleasure to interact with her will tell you.

At the moment Sommer’s family are going through a really challenging time, her husband is fighting pancreatic cancer and it is putting a strain on then in many ways. What I’m hoping we can do with our Snog for Sommer is to help take a little of the financial strain off their shoulders.

 

 

Among the Stars

 

Today I’m going to feature a kissing scene from my story “Love is a Virus.” I’m proud to announce it will be part of Coming Together: Among the Stars, edited by Lynn Townsend

 

Captain Lily Dawes has just ordered Ensign Saanvi Patel out of her quarters…

 

Captain Dawes closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for the sounds that would signal Ensign Patel’s departure. She would re-establish boundaries. There would be no more lapses of judgment in the future.

Shields up, Dawes.

Everyone on board the Seattle took Captain Lily Dawes’s orders. It came as a shock, then, when a hand touched her arm. Automatically, she turned to face Ensign Patel. When soft lips pressed against her own Lily froze, at war with herself. Captain Dawes would push the delectable Ensign Patel away and order her to leave. Shove her into the hall and slam the door in her face. Lily wanted to drag Saanvi to the bed she’d admired earlier. Getting naked and sweaty with exertion and spending every last second there until Captain Dawes had to be back on duty was the best idea Lily had had in weeks.

You should stop.

Saanvi’s lips moved to Lily’s  neck, licking and sucking. Saanvi’s hands slid under Lily’s tank top and her nails scratched Lily’s soft skin.  Lily moaned as her clit swelled—how could Saanvi have guessed that was exactly the thing that would ruin her resolve? She had never been able to resist a lover—male or female—with long nails who knew how to use them. Giving in momentarily, Lily kissed Saanvi frenetically , not bothering to try to catch her breath between kisses, until they were both gasping for air.

“Let me stay,” Saanvi whispered.

 

I love this story, and I’m looking forward to your reading it in full when the book comes out!

 

CONTEST

In honor of A Snog for Sommer I’m running a contest.  Winner gets a free pdf copy of Among the Stars when it’s published (very late 2014/early 2015).

Comment that you’ve donated,  and tell me your favorite sci-fi romantic pairing…either actual or the ones you wish had happened.

 

I hope you enjoyed my snog, and I encourage you to go and read all the other snogs.

A peek into a WIP

I’ve mentioned on and off that I have a novel in progress.  One of the things I need to do to really progress as a writer is learn how to do this faster, but that’s not the focus of today’s post.

Today I’m going to share a peek into my Work In Progress which for blog purposes we’ll call “The Ghost Story”

I have a dual timeline going on.  In this section, we’re in the past–1834.  This timeline’s heroine, Vivienne, is at the Quadroon Ball looking for a man to make a plaçage arrangement with.  She has met Ben–a man who excited both her mind and body on the dance floor, but he’s an American and not a Creole, and is thus unacceptable.  Her mother–for it was mothers most frequently who formalized plaçage agreements–has decided to make an arrangement with one of her father’s contemporaries, Monsieur Fortage.

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Danielle’s hand squeezed Vivienne’s arm painfully. “Allons y, Vivienne! Fortage is waiting for you on the balcony. Maitenent!” Now. It was an order, and one she did not know how to avoid.

“Oui, Maman. But—just a moment. I wish to freshen myself before I go to Monsieur Fortage,” she said, ducking her head obediently.

“Don’t tarry. You secure both our futures tonight. You’ll see—the hours out of bed and our return home will make up for any—unpleasantness—you may endure in the bedroom.”

She knows. She knows how horrible it will be to have that gaping carp of a man thrashing about in my bed. Vivienne began to make her way to the ladies lounge, trying to decide if one drink would be enough liquid courage to accept his offer or if more would be needed.

Benjamin fell into step beside here. “I see you got in trouble because of me. My apologies, Vivienne.”

“No. Thank you. I’ll treasure the memory of our dances while—“ she stopped abruptly.

“While you submit to whatever man your mother orders you to?”

She nodded.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why not your choice? Why not me?”

The ache between her legs at the thought was nearly unbearable. He’d be someone she would welcome to her bed. “You’re American. I just….. It’s not…. I can’t. I want to say yes, but I–”

He took her hand and pulled her past the entrance to the ladies lounge and into the deserted hallway beyond. “Tell me what I must do to convince you.”

“It’s not me you’d need to convince. Maman would never consent. She has already found me a match, and I am to obey. The only thing that could change her mind would be—“

“-Would be?”

Her face burned. “Would be to find me in bed with a man who would swear to take me as his left hand wife. At that point it would be too late for her to negotiate a contract with Monsieur Fortage.”

His breath was ragged. “Would you take such a risk with me?”

She intended to say no. Fortage was security. She owed it to her mother to secure their future. To get their home back. She opened her mouth to tell him as much.

“Yes.”

 

Not about the quadroon balls, but I can’t wait to see the movie “Belle”.  It’s similarly relevant to my interests in race and gender.

30 Days of Singapore on Twitter

When I wrote “Baby it’s Hot Outside,” it was important to me that Singapore be integral to the story.  The heat and humidity, the oddness of a tropical Christmas, even the essential phrase “cannot” that is woven throughout the story are all drawn from my daily life over the past four years.  I really like Caroline and Erik as characters, but their story would be very different in another city.

 

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Authors are finding new ways to build support and interest in their stories and to connect with their readership.  I’ve been wanting to do something special like that, but have struggled to figure out what would make sense.  Then I realized that I do have something unique to offer that I hope you’ll like.

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I’ve posted a picture here and there before, but for the next 30 days, I’ll be posting a daily picture of Singapore on my twitter account.  If you enjoyed the story I hope you’ll be interested in this sneak peek into life in Southeast Asia.  Remember that Singapore is 12 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time, so my posts will likely happen while you’re sleeping.  Be sure to look for them!

If you haven’t read” Baby it’s Hot Outside”, read excerpts 1 and 2, and then buy Summer Loving, edited by Alison Tyler

Amazon (paperback and kindle)

Amazon UK (paperback and kindle)

Smashwords (e-book)

All Romance (e-book)

Kobo (e-book)

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Summer Loving is now available in e-book form and paperback

Screen Shot 2014-07-25 at 9.27.46 pmWhen Sommer’s husband was diagnosed with cancer about a year ago, writers from around the world came together to send support. Bronwyn Green was the pioneer in charge of a fundraising event. Tamsin Flowers came up with the plan to do a charity book. —Alison Tyler, here.

Summer Loving is now available!

I enjoyed reading the full collection, but several stories really stood out for me.

 

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Fireworks Display by Emerald—She had decided to watch some fireworks from the comfort of her car.  Then the truck with six gorgeous men pulls up.

Next week is National Day here in Singapore.  There is a huge display of fireworks as part of the festivities, and when I see them, I know this story will be on my mind.  The build up and tension are great.  The juxtaposition against and description of the fireworks really did it for me.  Emerald is a new author to me, and I’ll be checking out more of her work.

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Tell me by May Deva–A pin-up photography session is the cost of losing a poker bet.

Any story that starts with “Oh, hell no!” is going to grab my attention.  This story hit all my sweet spots.  I love pin-up photography, I love banter, and I really really love twists at the end of a story.

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Arizona, Ireland, New England by Cheyenne Blue—You never quite know where home is until you find it.

Two friends come up with the idea of switching homes for the summer.  But it doesn’t quite turn out how they expected.  As an expat who thought I knew what I was getting into when I moved to the other side of the planet, only to find out that fantasy and reality are two different things, I related to both the women in the story.  The way that Cheyenne uses sensory descriptions–the way one of them “will fearlessly sweep a scorpion from the kitchen bench with a swift flick of a tea towel” makes for a story I’ll revisit.

Screen Shot 2014-08-02 at 4.09.40 pmAnd of course, you can read my story, “Baby it’s Hot Outside.”

I’ve given you an excerpt before.  Here’s another one….

 

“I never liked Josh,” Erik remarked.

“Why?” My high school boyfriend had always been a sweetie.

“Why do you think?  I was crazy about you.  You only noticed I was alive when you kicked Jake and me out of the living room.”

“That’s not true.  I noticed you were alive whenever you ate the last slice of pizza, too.”  Sarcasm was my crumbling wall of defense against desire.

Down girl.  CANNOT.

“Three days with you, and I feel like a lovesick idiot all over again.”  Erik gave a bitter laugh.  “I sound like a fucking idiot, too.”

Our eyes locked.  As one, we turned and began the walk back toward my apartment.

Fingers traced the thin line of skin between the top of my shorts and the bottom of my tank top as we walked.  Erik’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest at each red light.  Arousal grew with each passing intersection.  Did the colorful illumination highlight or hide that my nipples were erect?

One more second was too long to wait.  I grabbed Erik’s hand and pulled him into the Botanical Gardens; my apartment was still five minutes away.  Silently, I led him away from the well-lit path.  Once hidden in shadows, we stopped.  The moisture between my thighs couldn’t be blamed on humidity.

It was one thing to burn my way through every battery in my house trying to cool my libido.  It was entirely another to deliberately jump into the fire.

Anyone who chooses to live in a land of eternal summer shouldn’t be scared of heat.

“Caroline,” he murmured.

I twined my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to Erik’s.

Can.  CAN.

 

Remember, all proceeds go to help Sommer Marsden’s family.

NOW AVAILABLE AT

 

On the subject of banning books

I would not normally share a post from my expat blog.  But the issue of banning and destroying books in the name of “family values” affects me as an expat, a parent, a reader and a writer.  But Singapore–where I currently live–has decided to not just ban books from its libraries but to also destroy them, and I could not keep silent.

Libraries should be neutral repositories of information that trust their patrons to decide what is appropriate reading material for themselves and their families.  They should not take a side, and begin the slippery descent that ends in Fahrenheit 451.

Go here to read my blog post “And Tango makes a Banned Book.”

#OutWriters Why I write LGBT characters

As a publisher of queer books for over two decades, Cleis Press is committed to encouraging LGBTQ people to be visible, free, and well-pleasured. The presence of LGBTQ voices in literature is dear to our hearts.

In celebration of Pride month, we’re kicking off a brand new project we’re calling Out Writers. Join us—and a tide of queer voices—in celebrating the importance of LGBTQ writing.  Want to get involved? Please take a moment to share a sentence or two about why queer writers are important, and/or what it means to you to write as LGBTQ author, and use the hashtag #OutWriters.

 

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I suppose that I write LGBT characters for the most obvious reason possible–I’m also a member of the LGBT community.  More to the point, I write bisexual women because I am a bisexual woman.

Too frequently I see bisexual women portrayed as bisexual as part of a threesome for the benefit of their male lover, or that a scene with another woman is painted as a “lesbian” scene.  I write bisexual women because I’m writing a story right now which has a bisexual female protagonist, and had it referred to as a lesbian story.

Bi invisibility is an issue in the real world and in the literary world, and anything I can do to help mitigate that is a worthy thing.

Baby it’s Hot Outside

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When Alison Tyler put out the call for a charity anthology to benefit Sommer Marsden (whose husband was diagnosed with cancer in 2013) with the theme of summer, I really wanted to submit a story.

I’m deeply grateful that Alison has the kind of twisted sense of humor that let her see how a story like “Baby it’s Hot Outside”–set at Christmastime in Singapore–could fit into that theme, and I’m proud to be part of “Summer Loving.”

 

Here’s an excerpt.

Several days passed, during which I played tour guide. In daylight hours I wore the familiar sensible shoes of Jake’s pedantic big sister. Exploring Little India inspired a lecture on the multi-ethnic culture of Singapore. I bullied Erik into posing for a photo by the Merlion fountain while holding forth on how it became a symbol of the city.

As daylight shifted into night, though, things changed. My undernourished sex drive was surely why I’d thought Erik was flirting with me at dinner. Accepting a bite of food from his fork didn’t mean anything.

The sight of Erik asleep on my couch had me reaching for the aircon remote. Had he always had those abs under his stupid Nirvana t-shirts? A love trail disappeared into frayed cotton pajama bottoms. The urge to step into stripper heels and mount him was almost overwhelming.

There is a Singlish word—cannot—which means “‘No, not in a million years. Don’t even think about it.’”

My little brother’s best friend stirring my libido? Cannot, Caroline. Cannot.

 

NOW AVAILABLE AT

Nine-to-Five Fantasies

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I’m so excited to share the cover of “Nine-to-Five Fantasies” with you guys.  My story “O for Effort” (read an excerpt here) is one of the stories included.

Alison Tyler really knows how to mix business with pleasure, and she proves it in her adventurous Nine-to-Five Fantasies.

We’ve all heard the saying “all work and no play” makes life pretty darn dull. Alison Tyler is to the rescue with a high performance collection that offers steamy stories on the art of getting it on at work. Even the most mundane 9-to-5 job can lead to a rowdy romp that leaves people talking by the water cooler. From special offices where naughty secretaries are firmly spanked to customer service callers who hook up with pros and temps finding the boss man of their dreams, the restrictions on employee dating are wantonly and willfully broken here. Editrix Tyler and her top notch contributors are a highly creative bunch — who knew that office supplies are so sexy? Rulers are made for a good spanking, shipping tape is handy for bondage, and corner offices are custom-made for a good snog! Let’s get kinky in the cubicles!

You can pre-order it at Amazon (release date Nov 11, 2014).

I also write a book blog

One of the reasons I post so rarely here is that I have a lot of other hats I wear.  I try to keep this blog specific to those things that might interest people interested in the erotica author side of my personality.

Screen Shot 2014-04-23 at 10.57.00 PMI write Expat Bostonians, which is about my day to day life as an expat and larger discussions around identity, assimilation into a culture not my own, and raising third culture kids.  This has been my biggest writing project of the past four years–had I not focused on this, I’d probably be on my third or fourth novel by now.  But I love it, and it also serves my friends back home (and others) as a window into my life here.

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A month or so ago I began Be Quiet!  Mommy’s Reading… because I have spent so much effort on reviewing books on goodreads that it felt like a valuable use of my time.  It’s since turned into a really good stress reliever, especially my snarking nostalgia feature (every Monday) where I rip apart books I read as a kid, like The Baby-Sitters Club.  I’m also talking about other book related stuff (Divergent book v movie, When is a spoiler is a spoiler), doing book reviews, and my kids and I are teaming up for children’s book reviews.

If either of these sound interesting to you, please go and follow them.  Expat Bostonians also has a facebook page where I post not only links to the blog, but articles of interest and random posts about what have you.  (Worth noting, so does Delilah Night--which sees far more action than this blog).

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…

*****Edited to add–I ended changing Gemma’s name to Lucy as a story already under contract at that time had a character named Jenna and I didn’t want confusion.  This story was accepted for publication in Coming Together: For the Holidays, edited by Alessia Brio, expected publication date Dec 2014.  Read an updated excerpt here****

I wrote an erotic story about one of Santa’s elves back in 2012.  It’s still looking for a home.  However, I am writing other stories set in the same world (I really love these characters) so I may eventually self-publish.

Here’s a snippet.

‘Are you Matthew?’ Gemma asked.

‘Yeah. You are…’ 

‘Gemma. I think the mailman was dyslexic. I live in 3C at 32 Fairfax, and he left this at my apartment.’ She smiled and held up the Amazon box.

Matthew relaxed. “Thanks. Not many people would bother to bring it over in person.”  He stepped back, gesturing her inside.

‘”It’s Christmas. I thought I’d play Santa’s elf,” she winked at him as she entered. “What’s the book?”

“Uh, well…’”he faltered.

His awkwardness was cute. If only he wasn’t on the Naughty list. She’d always had a thing for men in wire-frame glasses. ‘75 ways to murder a stranger who delivers Amazon packages to your door?’ she teased.  ‘Unless it’s that, what’s there to be embarrassed about?’

He turned bright red and cleared his throat. ‘Um, it’s a book of Christmas erotica.’

A delicious idea invaded the elf’s mind: what better way to find out if he was a sexual deviant than to find out first hand?