Yes, I went a little crazy and published this book. it was supposed to be out May 14th but it's my first ever solo written, edited, formatted, and yes, I even did the cover of this one. So, yup, it's all my fault.
It's at the usual places like Amazon, All Romance and Smashwords and will toddle off to other places like Barnes and Noble, Apple, and Kobo, soon.
To my delight this book seems to have hit it out of the ball park as far as making people giggle. Amazing , awesome result. I love stirring up emotions in readers and laughter is one of the best.
So if you haven't grabbed it yet, it's only $1.50 at the moment, a steal if you're in need of your next tentacle fix.
Think, erotic parody with tentacles (of course), rabbits, mean tough bikers, zero rock stars, ONE billionaire, and one guy called Dangerous Bob who says fuck, a lot, and has a fluorescent cock. Ideal combo, really.
A parody of everything great and weird in erotic romance that could be stuffed into one book without it exploding.
For some girls, one tentacle isn't enough.
Having a bad day isn't good but when Virginia Chaste has a bad day, she gets felt up by a tentacle monster. If it simply has to happen, let it at least be a billionaire and a hot biker.
Virginity isn't all it's cracked up to be and her search for the Holy Grail of Erotic Romance, the ten inch purple-headed schlong, may have finally borne fruit.
Yeehaw! Playing hide the tentacle has never been so much fun.
This time he circled her and approached from behind. He molded his body to hers, covered her bound wrists with his hands.
His words thrummed in, deep, imprinting themselves on her very deepest, deepest, deep bits.
“I believe I am your destiny. You are mine, as I am yours. We shall be one. So one that your air will be mine, your scent mine, your blood will fill my veins, your soul and my soul will entwine together forever. Everything about you, mine."
Wow. "Those little china animals on my mantelpiece?"
Teeny bit obsessed.
The revelation that this man, okay, this tentacle man, wanted her so desperately, almost exploded her heart from her body. Luckily, it did not. So messy that would be. Blood everywhere. Ick.
“Oh, Karl, I think I’m swooning. Though it’s hard to tell with the ropes and all holding me upright. If we are so one, does that mean my mortgage is yours?”
“That...not so much.”
Darn. Worth a try.
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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.
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Cari 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.
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