Almost there!! I'm all set to celebrate the official release of my second Pierced Hearts book. All who enjoy my books are welcome to join me celebrating on Facebook on August 30th at 9pm EDT. Bring on the naughty, the kinky, and the plain ol good fun attitude! As you can see, I'm doing a rare signed-print giveaway. Because of my Australian location I don't do these often. The Facebook party starts at 9 pm EDT, August 30th, on Facebook here “Bind and Keep me, leads you down a depraved path full of dark desires that you know are so wrong, but feel too good for you to care. Cari Silverwood makes losing what we all cherish—our freedom—sinfully erotic.” How far would you go to protect your love and your life?
When two deaths turn his world upside down, Klaus must wrestle with a problem that goes soul deep. With Jodie it was capture fantasy but now he’s made the fantasy real, dragging her along as his accomplice. No one should feel so good about something so wrong. Maybe his soul is darker than he feared. Maybe the rules shouldn't apply to him. Warning: Dark erotica, Mff with BDSM themes, capture fantasy, and dubious consent. Contains spanking, bondage, caning and piercing, and one alpha possessive man about to toss aside his morals and take what he wants.
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Adults Only excerpt - 18 years PlusFrom The Dom with a Safeword - a contemporary BDSM M/f/f menage. Here's another snippet from this book I've co-written with Leia Shaw and Sorcha Black. Sorcha's a new author who we've been spanking into shape. Leia is a best-selling author with the great "Destiny" PNR romance series, as well as 31 Flavors of Kink - another BDSM book we co-wrote. I wrote the Dom, Jude. Leia wrote the innocent submissive, Sabrina, who is new to both BDSM and girl on girl. And Sorcha Black wrote the bisexual switch Q, who hates her real name and rarely tells it. Before you read my six sentences, you might want to read the blurb. Late at night, on an amateur ghost hunt, Sabrina and her best friend Q are caught trespassing by the gorgeous, blonde Jude. The embers of attraction between them sizzle when they discover Jude’s kinks match their own. Jude is a Dom on his last summer of freedom before starting the prison sentence that is med school. Q is a badass bi switch who knows what she wants, and for years it’s been her cute, doe-eyed straight friend Sabrina. But the only way for Q into Sabrina’s heart and panties may be with Jude’s fist wrapped in her hair. Domming the bratty Q and mischievous Sabrina isn’t going to be easy but Jude relishes the challenge. At the end of the summer, will they find a way to stay together when everything is tearing them apart? This is the first time Sabrina gets a taste of being dominated by both Q and Jude - with Jude pinning her arms behind her back, and Q kissing her. From Sabrina's point of view: His grip hardened. “I think she likes it,” Jude said, amusement coloring his voice. Oh, how right he was. Q ignored him, seemingly lost in her own world of nibbles and licks. When her lips grazed behind Sabrina’s ear, her breath tickled. Sabrina arched her back and her breasts pressed against Q’s, shocking her into a sharp awareness of what they did. Releasing Halloween! *** October 31st, 2012*** For a giveaway of an ARC of our book, click on Sorcha or Leia's names to go to their excerpts and blogs. One ARC (advance reader copy) from each blog of: The Dom with a Safeword If you're really keen on f/f orientated erotic romance, the f/f Romance group on Goodreads will be reading our book as Book of the Month in November and members may be eligible for a discount. Joining six sentence sunday can be fun! To join in, and find other participating writers, go here six sentence sunday On twitter use the hashtag #sixsunday Welcome to the BDSM Appreciation Event. I've been writing BDSM Romances for a while now and have a total of 5 books out that feature BDSM. Three Days Of Dominance is probably my most soft-core title. I write Doms who are men I can imagine waking up to in bed and living a life with. Though control might be etched into their very bones, in their hearts they are simply good men. Rough Surrender is my latest of my own fiction. 31 Flavors of Kink is more recent, but it's a story I co-wrote with Leia Shaw. I'll give away an eBook copy of Rough Surrender. Here's a little excerpt from this book that is set in Cairo, 1910. This one is blitzing the awards at review sites. Ten out of Ten top awards. To be in my contest, leave a comment then either follow or subscribe to my blog, OR I'll be just as happy if you simply tweet this post. But make sure you comment at the bottom. The Rafflecopter is for entries to the Grand prize from Nix at Scorching Book Reviews. And thank you to Nix for organizing this event! I'll be posting on her blog about BDSM and writing on the 4th August Blurb: At a time when airplanes are as new-fangled and sensational as the telephone, Faith dares to fly. The one territory she has not explored is her own sexuality. In Leonhardt she discovers the man who can teach her how a woman surrenders her body and her mind. However, Leonhardt has a shadowed past and his own learning to do. He doesn't have the right to keep Faith from flying, even if he thinks airplanes are flimsy death-traps made of canvas, timber and their inventor's prayers. Faith has her limits, Leonhardt has his flaws, and sometimes the nicest people get murdered by unscrupulous bastards. Even if Leonhardt can save the woman he loves, the battle for Faith’s heart will be the hardest one of all. WARNING: BDSM, anal sex, orgasms galore, and a Dom who likes to claim his property with pen, ink and bondage. An Excerpt from Rough Surrender “That’s better. Relax, darling. You’re meant to enjoy this.” Leonhardt's hands moved, untangling and unrolling the last lengths of Faith's hair, drifting lower, following the contours of her upper back to her waist and circling her there, pausing for a moment before leisurely curving across the mounds of her bottom. What she was allowing this man to do stunned her. “You have lovely hair, Faith, a beautiful body. I could touch you like this all night.” He kissed her neck, tickling her with small nibbles. “I’m taking your dress off now. Your answer, my dear?” An answer? He wanted speech when her throat had seized up? “Yes. Sir.” The wall behind the chaise lounge was cream...the lounge was timber and blue and her legs shook. Already. From the sound, he’d knelt then his hands encompassed her ankles and ran a little way up beneath the dress. Cool air caressed her body as he took the garment up. “Raise your arms, Faith.” She did so. The dress pooled on the lounge where he tossed it. She’d never stood before a man in her underwear before--in corset, drawers and stockings--and this was a man who knew how to control her with mere words. The longing to know what he meant to do made her breath come harsh to her ears. Her lips parted. “I like a woman who obeys my commands.” He rested his hands on her shoulders. Before she could stop herself a small noise escaped her lips. “Do you have a question?” His hands moved on her muscles, massaging and spreading a delicious warmth that pooled in her breasts and groin. “Yes. Uh, sir.” “Ask then.” “I don’t obey.” She let her head slowly drop forward as he continued the massage, and his body moved in to mold against her back. A hard length pressed along the crevice of her bottom. “I don’t. Not normally. Just you. And here. Uh. That’s all, so nice.” He laughed a little, softly, near her ear. “I could tell you liked it, sweetheart. Obeying me here and now is all I want.” He stepped away, keeping a single finger in the center of her back. “I’m going to take off the rest of your clothes, Faith and bind you.” Oh my God. “Now is when you should say, no, my dear. Then I’ll go.” She licked her lips. Say, no? And miss what her body craved? He’d done what he had at the workshop--made her throb exquisitely in all her private places. She said nothing, wanting, needing, to see what else he could do. “You want me to stay then.” “Yes, sir.” “Good.” This time she heard roughness in his voice. “Good.” He drew off her shoes, her drawers, her hose and corset until she waited there naked with the air caressing her skin. The man in her room was still clothed...and she was naked. Her heart thudded, fast and anxious. “Put your wrists together, behind your back.” His voice softened as he moved away. Something knocked, then came muted noises. Mr. Meisner returned and stopped there, just behind her, within reach, where she couldn’t see, waiting. She sucked in a breath, let it out slowly, and did as he ordered--put her arms at her back. He wrapped some sort of rope around her wrists, tightened the bindings until she could do no more than twist her hands one against the other. “The curtain cords,” he murmured. “Being an engineer, I like to use chains and metal when I can, but this will do, for your first time. How does that feel, Faith?” He set his hands on her hips. His skin on her naked skin. She shuddered, feeling wetness seep between her legs. “Turn around and look at me. Now.” Of a sudden, seeing him looking at her was scarier than staring at the wall and knowing he did things to her behind her back. She bowed her head, felt her hands again--roped together. The position made her breasts jut out and as she looked, her nipples puckered and poked out like fat buttons. “Faith. Turn and face me.” “Yes, sir.” She shuffled around and his hands stayed on her, sliding at her hips, just above there, where she ached. His big brown eyes were on her and she couldn’t help but look up into them and be caught, the sensation turning topsy-turvy, messing with every thought in her head. Mr. Meisner had her in his hands. “There, love. I do believe you like this.” His eyes crinkled and his mouth moved in the most heartwarming smile she’d yet observed. “You don’t need to answer that. I can see. In this.” He put both hands on her breasts, cupping them then brushing each thumb once across her nipples. “Oh.” She swayed and found her eyes half closing. “And this.” Deliberately, while his gaze still locked with hers, he let one hand leave her breast, trail down her stomach, across the triangle of hair... No. He wouldn’t. She tugged at the ropes around her wrists but nothing gave. Her helplessness fed into the heaviness curling tight and low in her stomach. The nub of flesh inches from his fingers peaked and hardened. She tensed then arched into his hold, and still he watched. His hand slid between her legs and paused there. “You’ve no hair on your lips down here, Faith.” His eyebrows rose a smidgeon. He wanted her to speak? Just being there, still, his finger confused her, kept her thoughts centered on the minute details of what he did. “I...I remove it. A friend in Paris showed me. For cleanliness and all...um.” Her explanation trailed away, swallowed by the sensations bubbling up. “Hmm, I like the result.” His gentle baritone hum...the spot his finger touched...her nakedness and the power this man had over her, and, oh, the way he watched, it all roiled deliciously around inside her. She gulped then held her breath as...his finger followed the line of her slit, where wetness collected, and slow as a tongue licking the edge of an ice cream, nudged aside her lips, and dipped inside her. There. Oh. Yes. A coil of simmering energy seemed to squeeze down into the tightest ball, and quiver to be released. His thumb found her nub and pressed down firmly. Over and over and over. Her heart stopped. The room shattered. Her breath came out in a choking squeak from her gaping mouth. Nothing existed except the storm of pleasure bursting upward from where he probed and pressed. Unable to stop herself, she jerked and moaned through each wave of the storm until her body was wrung dry of the very last shudder. When the room centered and she raised her eyelids, Mr. Meisner held her in his arms, snuggled to his chest. He rubbed her back, just like he had on the boat. “There you go, sweetheart. Lord. Never seen any woman orgasm that easily. You do like this. Do you understand? You like being tied up.” Go here for Scorching Book reviews which is hosting a heap of other BDSM authors for this event, including Cherise Sinclair and Kallypso Masters, Sherri Hayes, Cassandra Carr. Eliza Gayle, and Joey Hill. Adults Only - 18 years plusThere you are! You've made it this far through the Hero's Blog Hop - unscathed by arrows or swords, by bullets or by a hero's stunningly built muscles that gleam in the sunshine as if freshly polished. That is why you like heroes isn't it? So you can run your tongue down that torso, slowly detouring around their belly button, and downwards...unzipping...unbuttoning...mmm Or is it? I lift one eyebrow and give you a second to think. The physical yumminess is always enticing, but for me, it is what's inside them that makes a hero. And what they DO. I love a man with a heart, a lover's soul, a man who does what he has to when times are not just tough, but bad enough to bring him to his knees despite the landscape littered with shards of glittering glass. That man -- the man who crawls across the glass with sword in hand, or sharpened toothpick, to save his lady -- he is the hero for me. What is most important to you in a hero? Delectable muscles? Come on, admit your weaknesses. I won't tell a soul!
My personal prize for this blog hop is a $5 gift card and a book from my backlist - so that excludes Rough Surrender, the one I have an excerpt for below. This is my hero, Leonhardt Meisner. A man who will move heaven and earth, and overcome his greatest fear, to save his love, Faith Evard.
I can't show Leonhardt's greatest heroic moment, because that is toward the end of the story, but here is when they first kiss. Faith halted at the door, put her palm to the wood while her other hand brushed her fringe back as well as she could without a mirror--needing that moment to compose herself. Liar. Damnable liar. She had let him do that. She couldn’t trust herself. “Leonhardt,” he said. “What?” Frowning, she turned. At least, this time he’d kept some distance, a few feet, between them. Not enough. Her treacherous tongue curled out to touch her lip. Why did she do that? As if...as if she could taste him on the air. Her nostrils flared. She could smell him, though: tobacco and soap and sweat, but even in winter, Cairo would make anyone sweat. “Leonhardt. Call me that.” “I doubt that would be appropriate, Mr. Meisner.” His mouth curved in a small smile. “You lied before. Of course.” He took an unhurried stride forward, brought up his arms and braced them either side of her head. Hell. “If it weren’t for that adorable tongue of yours, I’d have let you go. Now, I’m going to see what you taste like.” He lowered his head. Faith strained away, the back of her skull smacking lightly into the timber. “Don’t move.” Those two words were like nails driving her into place. He covered her lips with his and she gave a muffled groan as his tongue slid into her mouth alongside hers. All resistance vaporized. She fought to stay aware and upright though her legs threatened to collapse and her logical brain had disintegrated into a swirl of lustful thoughts. Nothing mattered except the feel of him inside her. His lips pressed and slid, his teeth caught her flesh here, there...his breath merged with hers. This was a man who knew how to take. His body moved in, squeezing her between timber and man. If she needed to breathe, she must accept what he gave her. If he didn’t hold her there, she’d fall. The world shifted on its axis. Sweet Jesus, she loved it. This time, when he drew away, she kept her fingers hooked into the heavy fabric of his coat. Something hard and long pulsed against her stomach--his manhood. All of their own accord, her hips arched forward. Her panting came a little faster. “We’d best be leaving.” He stroked the side of her face with his knuckles. “Mmm.” Someone had put glue on her tongue and throat “Mmm? You kiss like an angel come down from heaven, sweetheart. Tell me the truth this time, before I let you go. Did you like that?” Before I let you go That matter-of-fact statement shook her. Her eyes swept up, found his--so striking, so intense. She searched for a word to describe them. Animalistic? When eyes were given out, he’d been given the wrong ones--those of a hawk or wolf. She considered lying but couldn’t, not while he held her still in place. “Yes,” she whispered. “I did.” His knuckles feathered over her lips and, on impulse, she licked at them. His eyes darkened. A hiss escaped from between his teeth. “You tempt me too much.” Then he stood, moved back and gestured at the door. It took a moment for her to adjust to the loss--of feeling his body on hers. By the time he slid back the door and guided her toward the motorcar with his hand low on her back, she’d done some thinking. If she’d doubted his effect on her, she now knew for certain. He’d given her an entirely new understanding of kissing. Mr. Meisner...Leonhardt, could own her without doing anything more than saying a single word. He opened the passenger door. Their eyes met. Well, two words. She wasn’t that easy. Don’t move. The memory of her response scalded her. Like a cat on heat, she wanted to lie down at his feet and arch her back. Whatever am I going to do? Buylinks are below & a bigger sample from Rough Surrender is here. Night Owl Top Pick 5/5; The Romance Reviews Top Pick 5/5; Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews 5/5 "Purest Delight"; BDSM Book Reviews 5/5 Paddles, 5/5 Kinks; Kinky Book Reviews 5/5 Kinks; Mrs Condit Reads Books 5/5; Scorching Book Reviews 5/5; Erzabet's Enchantments 5/5; and Manic Readers 5/5 Make that 10 out of 10 sites. I can see from Goodreads, that Holly from Full Moon Bites is also giving the book 5/5 Adults Only - 18 Years plusGrand Prize of the Demons vs Angels Blog Hop - ONE winner gets a Kindle Touch & ONE winner gets a $60 Amazon or Barnes&Noble Gift Card. Make sure you comment with your email address! Otherwise we can't enter you in the grand prize. All of my books are BDSM erotic romances. I'm giving away one e-Book from my backlist if you comment. To see my books, click here, or on the Books by Cari Silverwood tab above. I'll also do a one-off email to all who comment, telling you when the Erotic Escapades anthology comes out. As I'm not sure if it'll be free or 99 cents, I'll include that info in the email. If you don't want to be in that mass email, just say so in your comment. What is it about demons that so attracts us to stories? Their magical powers? The way they can pick you up and throw you around the room with their pinky finger? Or hold you against a wall while they deliver a sizzling kiss? The bad boy image? Mmmmmm. I like them all, but especially the last two. To me, angels just don't cut it. Give me someone just a little bit mean and I'll melt at their feet, then kiss my way upward when they ask me to. If you're an angel lover...why?! If it's demons, join the club, only don't steal mine, cause I might get all possessive. This story below is the start of a new PNR series with an American West theme. It's supposed to be a less erotic series than I usually do, but Talon seems to have other ideas. Rusted Rattlesnakes and Lubricated Love - excerptThis is from a short story which will be in anthology called "Erotic Escapades" due out in July from my critique group - ERAuthors. It'll be either free or 99 cents. My story is also the first few chapters of a new book in a post-apocalyptic PNR series called "Cataclysm Blues". There will be demons. Cataclysm Blues - Book One, Awakening is due for release in the last quarter of 2012. Just so you know - this is Talon: No name still. But, he was kinda pretty. All in black—shirt, trousers, belt, weapons—like someone trying to look tough. Didn’t impress her. What did was the swell of his biceps when he raised the bottle. His profile was…she shifted in her chair…damn good too. Short curly black hair, a roman nose, big mouth…but an alcoholic? Can’t have it all in one package. That would spoil it. This way he was big and bad and kissable and broken. If it wasn’t for the row of shrapnel scars marching up his neck, she’d… ****** Talon had made it to where his motorcycle was parked next to the man-high brick fence. Even in the poor lights out there, the vehicle gleamed some dark color—black most likely, knowing him. As she strolled forward, he turned, spun even—and there was no wobbliness at all. Rose frowned and took the last yard fast, drew her S&W revolver left-handed, and slammed her hand up onto his throat. She lifted him six inches off the ground with most of the weight under his jaw so he could breathe. The pistol went under his ribs. “Okay, you cunning bastard, I can see you’re not drunk. No idea how, but when I let you down, you’re facing your cycle and showing me both wrists. Got it?” “You do realize, you should not be able to lift me.” “Huh?” The calmly said sentence was so out of place. “No woman can lift this much one-handed.” “Surprise, surprise. I can. It’s the croquet, and all the oatmeal.” Why wasn’t he sounding half-strangled? “I am not going to hurt you. I don’t like guns pointed at me.” Hurt me? As if. “At you? It’s only your ri—” The move was fast and unexpected. She couldn’t counter it and barely knew what he’d done after it was over. Her pistol was gone, she’d been shoved into the brick wall hard enough to sting her back, and Talon held both her hands above her head. They were both breathing hard. “Don’t scream. I’ll let you go. I just wanted you out here to talk, like I said.” She blinked. How had he done that? No one, ever, bested her. “You’re a freak.” She wriggled her wrists but all that did was chafe her skin on the brick. Could kick him. As if he’d read her mind, he crowded her—his body pressing close. Groin to groin, his chest to her breasts, and his mouth inches away from hers. And there it was—that kerthump sinking feeling again. The temperature between her legs went up several degrees, and wet…she was much wetter down there. “Freak? Am I?” She heard that dead smile in his words again. “What about you?” “Me? I’m the sheriff.” He still held her. “The letting go bit? Remember? My deputy is coming.” “Not yet he isn’t. I can’t hear him.” The pause stretched to the breaking point. “You’ve been stupid, Sheriff.” Yeah, she guessed she had. She’d thought she could take him. Killing someone took seconds, if you knew how. Looking into Talon’s night-darkened eyes only reinforced her gut instinct—this man could kill. But he hadn’t. And now, though she could try screaming, that meant sucking in a heap of air, and he’d know. On the flip side… “If you’d wanted to kill me, you’d have done it by now.” “True.” So close, she felt the waft of warm air from his mouth as he spoke. She smelled him every time she inhaled—man and scotch, with a hint of gasoline. As if he read her mind, he leaned in and put his nose to her neck where it was bared by her collar. His warm skin on hers. The fine bristles on his chin rasped at her. She tensed. Why am I not protesting? I’m not some floozy. No? Then why haven’t I screamed for Deputy Yale? And sod it, that man is slow. “Kill you? You smell too good, beautiful. I think I have other plans.” Beautiful? Other plans? She stopped breathing. No one called her that. Especially not a six foot plus hunk of man who could, for once, eat her all up without half trying. His thigh moved in, denim to denim, pressing upward to where her clit resided. God damn, that’s… The wall seemed to slide a half inch upward, because her knees had caved. She’d melted—bone, muscle, everything. The only thing stopping her slide was his knee between her legs, and her arms fastened above. Around her wrists his grip rhythmically relaxed then tightened as if he was thinking. She thought about swallowing again, but that would be a dead giveaway to her arousal. “You’ve never been kissed, have you, Rose?” “Of course I have.” The huskiness in her voice bothered her. He’d know. Got to get back on the job. Get out of this hold for starters. “No. You’ve never had a man kiss you, though you might have kissed them. There’s a difference. I doubt anyone else could handle you. I can.” Stunned, she gaped at him. Above, he put her hands together and held them in one fist. She pushed outward but still couldn’t budge him. Her next deep breath pressed her breasts into his chest. And he put his hand to her neck—without asking, like it belonged there. Like he had the right to do whatever he wished. The sensation tripped her into another land. Here was a man unafraid to do what he wanted with her. Thumb on one side of her neck, fingers on the other, holding her there too, he spoke. “Done trying to escape?” She simply breathed, watched, like waiting for an avalanche. Then ever so slowly, without fuss, he came in for a kiss. Her brain kicked in. “My deputy—” His mouth covered hers. Warmth flooded through her. Slowly she closed her eyes, as he assaulted her mouth and claimed her. Fastened to the wall by his hands and body, she had no choice, for he leaned in harder and almost nailed her in place. His kisses, the subtle thrust of his thigh up into her pussy, the constant grasp on her throat and the way he let her have absolutely no way to move her hands, it all built into a storm that rumbled through her. The kisses grew rougher, he nipped at her mouth, and pushed her head to the side so he could bite and suck at her throat. Soon her moans and the sound of his lips and teeth and tongue on her were all she could hear. She writhed against his thigh, and his hand stroked where her shirt had ridden up above her navel. He leaned his head onto her neck so her head was forced to the side. Above her own ragged breaths, she heard his quiet words. “So soft. This is you. Not these.” He tapped her pistol, then his hand wormed down deeper between the top of her low-riding jeans and her skin. Too tight, he only got one finger down close…a small distance from her little throbbing clit. Oh, she could tell to a fraction of an inch how far that finger needed to go.
Adults Only - 18 years plus100s of authors of sexy stories are in this blog hop so if you want something to warm up your nights follow the links at the bottom of this post! Every person who comments is entered into the draw at each blog as well as one of the grand prizes shown below. Grand Prize One - the "Digital Erotica Gift Basket with over 40 books." My book "Rough Surrender" is in this BIG huge gift basket of books. Grand Prize Two - the "$100 Gift Card to EdenFantasys, fun sex toy shop." The prize here, at my blog, is a copy of one of my ebooks (your choice - see the tab above "Books by Cari Silverwood" Kinky sex surely has to be best in the summertime? I seem to have a lot of it happening on rooftops in my stories and you can't get naked outdoors unless it's hot. Or you shouldn't. *shiver* Doing it when it's snowing or there's a blizzard howling past just seems wrong. Below is an excerpt of my latest erotic BDSM romance, Rough Surrender, that's already a bestseller at ARE. At a time when airplanes are as new-fangled and sensational as the telephone, Faith dares to fly. The one territory she has not explored is her own sexuality. In Leonhardt she discovers the man who can teach her how a woman surrenders her body and her mind. However, Leonhardt has a shadowed past and his own learning to do. He doesn't have the right to keep Faith from flying, even if he thinks airplanes are flimsy death-traps made of canvas, timber and their inventor's prayers. Faith has her limits, Leonhardt has his flaws, and sometimes the nicest people get murdered by unscrupulous bastards. Even if Leonhardt can save the woman he loves, the battle for Faith’s heart will be the hardest one of all. WARNING: BDSM, anal sex, orgasms galore, and a Dom who likes to claim his property with pen, ink and bondage. Rough Surrender - Excerpt of Chapter One The last three lashes of the whip striped across her naked back. Molly jerked only a little, moaning softly, hanging limp in the rope tying her hands to the top of the post. Red lines crisscrossed her buttocks and a few places higher up. Waves of her glossy brunette hair clung to her shoulders, shimmering in the yellow light of the electric chandelier dangling from the high ceiling. Her white cotton drawers were pulled to ankle level and long silk ties trailed over her feet. No blood showed--he’d judged it right. Hard to do sometimes with the whips Smythe provided at his brothel whenright was as delicate a matter as painting a butterfly’s wing. Leonhardt smiled. Molly had a love of the whip and it seemed he’d taken her to exactly the place she wanted to go. Her inner thighs glistened with moisture. “Molly?” He dropped the whip, stepped up to her and ran his hand down her back, feeling her ribcage move with each pant, tracing the raised lines where he’d laid the leather. Sweat slicked under his hand. She whimpered and flinched at the press of his fingers. “There, there. Shh.” He kissed her neck and caressed the lines, watching her mouth, the rhythm of her breathing and the other tiny signs that spoke of arousal. When her squeaks changed into soft sighs, the familiar electricity zapped him into higher awareness. He never grew tired of seeing how far he could take a woman. His cock pressed into his trousers. Every response of her body--every moan and movement, every mark on her skin, made him wish he could record it somehow, a symphony of the whip with her beautiful pain and pleasure written for him to treasure. He might have asked her if she wanted to come but the mere act of not asking thrilled him more. Making her come, whether she wanted it or not was far better. The slickness between her legs let him glide two fingers into her, exactly as like his cock might enter her. The clench of her hot flesh and her little shudder made him smile. He inhaled her scent while slowly increasing the pumping tempo--in and out, a little faster, a little rougher, a little farther when he pushed hard. Buylinks for Rough Surrender Click HERE to find the other blogs, or on the bloghop image above. 18 Years Plus OnlyOkay that's it for the bad analogies. Below is my excerpt from Lust Plague to tease you, tempt you and make you wriggle in your seat. I'm giving away one ebook copy of Lust Plague. Comment to enter! (International giveaway) Drawn after midnight May 20th When airship captain Kaysana meets Sten, the last thing she wants to do is have mad rough sex with him while bound by ropes and clamps but fate pencils in their appointment. The lust plague strikes. From her infected crew, zombies arise. Sten and Kaysana unlimber weapons, and set a course for the origin of the plague. Yet their victory will be hollow if they cannot also solve the puzzle of their hearts. Excerpt: “Stay still,” Sten said quietly, firmly, then put his hand to her bare back and felt her jerk at the press of skin to skin. The transformation made his dick quiver as always, and damn, he was already hard. The way Kaysana’s face changed fascinated him. It was like watching a flower unfurl. The hardness, the wariness, drained away. Instead she looked at him with adoration and acceptance in those toffee brown eyes. Yet after a few seconds, he saw awareness return. This is new. She’s resisting this thing that affects us. He didn’t bother trying to resist anymore. He wanted her, knew he would’ve anyway. This just made it easier. The Zen let him see the truth. Having Kaysana kneel at his feet -- this was his fantasy, want, need…whatever. Having her want him back sent his libido soaring into the stratosphere. Done deal. The intriguing thing was watching her wriggle to get out of it. To deny her needs. “Come.” He tugged, then towed her to the front of the rooftop by the leash wrapped in his hand. “Sit here. Stop trying to push me away. You’re right. Last time I touched you, those zombies zeroed in on us like flies to…” Blood. Keep your shit focused. Zone them out. Zen, man, Zen. Took him a few hard seconds, but he managed. He had to. Their lives depended on this working. The difficult bit was keeping her in a mental space where she forgot. At the touch of his hand on her shoulder, she sighed. Quivering with need already? Her smart, thinking side was clearly miles away. He spread his fingers on her warm skin and smiled. If not for the effects of the plague, this would never have worked. The zombies waiting below to rip them apart weren’t exactly love potion ingredients. Sten pressed his palm on her nape, made her kneel, turned the leash around his fist until his knuckles brushed the angle of her throat and jaw. He bent down, staring at her. Her gaze went all gooey, her pupils dilating, gorgeous -- if he could’ve bottled that, he would’ve. “Let’s kiss,” he murmured. The feel of her soft lips under his near unhinged him. Their hot breaths mingled as he explored her mouth. At first passive, then she struggled a little and tried to pull away. With his hands at her neck and throat, he held her to him. “No,” he whispered, licking the corner of her mouth. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” Then he crushed her resistance, shoving his tongue between her lips, taking over her mouth with his while he slid his fingers into her hair. He turned his hand to screw those fingers into the roots, wrapping hair about each finger -- harder, tighter. When she gasped and her mouth fell open, he knew he had her. He kept at her. Not until she moaned uncontrollably into his mouth did he let up and slowly lift away. Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and elements, exhibitionism, spanking, strong violence. Buylinks: Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Lust-Plague-Steamwork-Chronicles-ebook/dp/B007P0OLSA/ref=pd_rhf_dp_p_img_1 All Romance Ebooks http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-lustplague-767894-147.html Fictionwise http://store.fictionwise.com/ebooks/b132777/Lust-Plague-/Cari-Silverwood/?si=0 Loose Id http://www.loose-id.com/Lust-Plague.aspx Click on the links below to visit other blogs and authors and get tons more chances to win. Good Luck! Okay , here is my latest, and maybe my first, contest on here. Think up alternative lyrics for a song - a line or two will do - and give it a zombie slant. Example - "I ate the braaaaains, down in Africa..." Courtesy of Willsin Rowe who has extremely bad taste! Post in the comments and I'll track down whoever the random number generator picks and give you a copy of Lust Plague, my latest erotic romance with yes, zombieeeeeees in the plot. But in case you are concerned about the love lives of the zombies, don't be, they are NOT the hero or heroine. My zombies are pure unadulterated cannon fodder. Link to a sample of Lust Plague on here. If you're stuck, throw me a zombie joke. I promise not to throw you to the zombies out the back, unless it is a very very bad joke. Oh, and here is the blurb and publisher's warning on Lust Plague. Read it! To make sure it is for you. This is an erotic story and only for adults! Saving the world should be easier. When airship captain Kaysana meets Sten, the last thing she wants to do is have mad rough sex with him while bound by ropes and clamps but fate pencils in their appointment. The lust plague strikes. From her infected crew, zombies arise. With her ship gone, she must rely on Sten, a human clone, a man who has fought all his life to master himself. She despises his kind and detests Sten’s growing hold on her. Though he never takes no for an answer, surely it’s the plague that makes yes slip from her tongue like melted butter? Or should she blame her own traitorous heart? Hordes of slavering zombies await them. Sten and Kaysana unlimber weapons, don goggles, and set a course for the origin of the plague. Yet their victory will be hollow if they cannot also solve the puzzle of their hearts. Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and elements, exhibitionism, spanking, strong violence. |
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Copyright Cari Silverwood 2011. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.
Cari Silverwood is a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. AuthorCari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of kinky darkness or sometimes of dark kinkiness, depending on her moods and the amount of time she's spent staring into the night. Follow Cari Silverwood on...
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