Thursday, 30 January 2014

Queen's Quest by Suz DeMello

Queen’s Quest by Suz deMello
Janus is a planet that lacks both tilt and spin. Shadowlands is the pewter band of dusk dividing the violently hot Lightside of the planet from its Darkside, which is imprisoned by eternal night. Birth rates on the planet are low and indiscriminate mating and ménage sex are encouraged.
Audryn, Queen of Shadow, has reached that time in her life when she must choose a King to rule with her or fail to bear an heir, casting not only her realm but all of Janus into chaos. Despite her duty, she is reluctant to share power, even a bit distrustful. Janus’ nobles vie for Audryn’s hand. Although she enjoys trysting with all her suitors, none seize her heart.
Then Storne, the warrior Prince of Darkness, arrives to claim her as his bride, and she finds she cannot resist his masterful ways.
Inside Scoop:  This book contains lots of hot ménage action including a F/F/M scene.
Buy link:
I sent a message to Storne, the Prince of Darkness, requesting that he attend me toward the end of my toilette, and told Maia to prepare me with especial care for that evening’s dinner. I sent out all other servants so I could speak with her privately about him.
As I reclined on a golden velvet settee, she shaved me, a bolster beneath my hips and my legs wide so my pussy was accessible. With quick, deft strokes of the razor, she cleared the curls from both sides of my delta, then from my labia, so the area ‘round my clitoris was smooth. She then cleansed me with a damp cloth before massaging my sex flesh with lotion scented with soothing lavender and chamomile.
I raised my arms above my head, lifting my breasts so they crinkled in the cool air. Storne, I thought, and I tingled from head to toe. “What did you think of him?”
She did not ask me the subject of my question, but said, “I like him. He is direct and honest in his ways, and has the respect of his men.” She fluffed a powderpuff between my thighs.
I sighed, my pussy throbbing. “How large is his...entourage?”
“Large enough, I trow. The DarkDwellers make dwarves of us all.”
“I have a task for you.”
Maia set the shaving implements on the sideboard, then turned to regard me with her fullest attention. I sat up and took a hairbrush, handing it to her. As she brushed, I talked.
“I do not wish the leaders of Darkness and Light to ever be alone together.”
She paused, and the brush stilled. “I see your concern. If they join against Shadow, we would have no chance against their combined forces.”
“Yes. We would be squeezed like an orange in a press, the life-giving juices extracted and the dry husk left to rot.” Fear twisted deep in my belly.
The brushing resumed. “Kaldir strikes me as ignorant of statecraft.”
“I agree. He may not have thought of such a strategy, but Storne...”
“Yes. I, also, believe it must have occurred to the Prince of Darkness. Storne is far too canny a warrior to allow this opportunity to pass unheeded.”
“Or at least considered the possibilities. He has a reputation as a fine soldier.”
The brushing concluded, she tugged at a bellpull. “I will make certain that Darkness and Light do not merge. But you must also do your part.”
I smiled. “That will be my pleasure.”
Several of my ladies entered, opening wardrobes and bringing out gowns for my inspection. Others braided my hair and pinned it to the top of my head like a crown while others rimmed my eyes with charcoal, pinkened my lips with a rose tint. With unaccustomed nerves, I dithered over my choices, wondering which dress or what color would most entice Storne. I finally said, “The rose pink, the one trimmed with gold lace.” I felt overheated, and the gown was of thin, slick satin. Cooling, as in cooling my lust. I did not want to indulge in hasty actions with the Prince of Darkness.
I continued, “And high shoes. I do not wish to look like a dwarf.”
Maia emitted a sharp bark of laughter as she found pink stockings, which were fastened above my knees with ruffled garters of golden lace. She draped a pink chemise over my head, which was followed by a matching corset, laced tightly to show my narrow waist and lift my breasts. I slid my feet into the heeled slippers, and as the satin gown was tossed over my head, I heard a door open, followed by the clatter of boots.
“Lord Storne.” Maia’s tone was respectful.
I shook my head free of the enveloping folds of lace and satin as she tugged the gown into place. “Good evening,” I said.
“Audryn.” Without being bidden, he approached. He reached for me, then stopped. “May I?”
“Y-yes.” I did not know what he intended, but...
His smile transformed his angular face. He wrapped a big hand behind my neck. His grasp was firm, warm, the skin of his palm a little rough, from swordplay or riding, I imagined. I tried to breathe through a tight, nervous throat.
He kissed me full on the lips, rather than a chaste buss on my cheek, which would have been proper. Though he did not intrude his tongue, the contact was warm, vital and vigorous, hinting at the pleasure we could share.
As he withdrew, his gaze met mine, the gray eyes demanding, gentle and amused. How he packed so many emotions into one glance was a mystery to me. I told myself I was imagining more in his look than actually was there.
I had become infatuated by the Prince of Darkness swiftly...far too swiftly. That was bad. I could not make decisions affecting the history and welfare of my realm based on a passing fancy.
Maia bustled around me, fastening golden earbobs onto my lobes, bracelets on my wrists. Another lady laced my gown up the back. I was grateful for their presence, for the respite that the mundane tasks afforded; I could collect myself, regain my lost poise.
When I was dressed, Storne said, “Let’s walk before dinner.”
“Certainly.” I donned long, pink satin gloves. Fingerless, they wouldn’t impede me when eating or touching. Again, anxiety cramped me to the guts, but I laid a hand onto his elbow.
He had bathed from top to toe. Most of his dark mane hung loose, but the thick locks at each side of his face were braided, leaving his features, angular but pleasing, exposed. Amber and musk from the EastMarch scented his hair. He wore fine garments subdued in color: deep blue shot and trimmed with silver. The hue complemented his coloring. Hose of the same rich tone limned brawny legs. He was aware of Shadowland fashion, for his codpiece was large and embroidered with thick silver thread. His velvet doublet bore a design with the sacred oak and fiery mountain, traditional symbols of Darkside nobility, nature-worshippers all.
His gray eyes continued expressive, holding intelligence and humor, and his mouth was unexpectedly sensual. A fantasy image of his lips caressing my pussy drifted across my mind.
He led me through the palace with a sure step, showing no uncertainty. Our respective retinues followed. Behind me, the train of my gown swept the slates, but as it didn’t have panniers or hoops, our bodies occasionally bumped as we walked. Each contact shot a scintillating trail of desire along my skin.
“Do you know your way? Where are we going?” I asked.
He cast me an amused glance. “I had a free hour to explore your castle. It is an admirable stronghold.”
He took me to the same terrace where I’d so joyously given my virginity on my Exhibition Day. When our servants attempted to follow, I said, “It’s all right. There are plenty of people below.”
True enough; down on the lawns, tearing apart the sod, a herd of magnificent taqqa milled and stamped, huge animals with shaggy ochre-colored pelts, massive humped shoulders and curved horns, themselves long, sharp weapons. Some of the beasts were mounted by armored warriors almost as big as Storne, while the rest were laden. Servants, both Shadowlanders and Darksiders, busily unloaded and stacked boxes, baskets, trunks, rugs and portmanteaux. That our people worked together amicably was not lost on me.
“For you,” Storne said.
I stared at him.
My eyes widened. “You owe me no tribute, and you cannot buy me.”
“No, but I see that I must woo you.” That smile again, so unexpected from such a solemn mien. “I am but a rough warrior, but I wish to be your rough warrior.”
Pleasure robbed me of speech. I was touched by his courtliness, so at odds with his earlier arrogance. And he was an astute judge of character. He had taken my measure immediately and adjusted his approach. He had also come prepared for any eventuality.
He took out a small pouch from a hidden pocket in his doublet. “My first gift to you.”
My face felt too small for my smile. “Thank you.” Excited, I reached for the red satin bag, hoping it contained jewelry. Darkside boasted a wealth of minerals and gems, and its artisans excelled in the craft of jewelry design.
He pulled it out of my reach. “Let me show you. Rumor tells me that women of the Shadowlands enjoy this kind of gift, and I will enjoy knowing that you wear it.” He tugged apart the drawstring at the pouch’s top and upended it above his cupped palm. A stream of molten gold spilled forth, resolving into a fine chain, nearly three feet long.
Puzzled, I took it out of his hand and held it up to examine it by the light of the torches lining the marble terrace. The chain had little scissor-like appendages at each end, each maybe the size of my thumbnail. The scissors had curved blades that weren’t sharp but were lined with tiny seed pearls, leaving a circular gap in the center perhaps the size of a baby pea. The ends were curlicued to wrap around each other.
I raised my brows at Storne.
“Allow me.” But he didn’t take the chain, instead reaching for my bodice.
I gasped and pulled away. “Sir, you presume too much.”
“Do I?” He paced the length of the terrace, then returned. “Audryn, there is only one sure test of our ability to rule together, and this mating is a radical step neither of us can take without some...experimentation. I know you approach your seventeenth starturn, and you have sworn to crown your king on that day.”
My jaw tightened. “Your spies are most effective.”
“Thus, time grows short. Please.” He reached for me again, and this time I did not resist. He was right; besides, I wanted him to touch me intimately. Though his hands were rough, he handled my breasts with tenderness, lifting them above the gown and away from the corset’s confinement, resting them atop my lace-trimmed neckline. Cool air washed my breasts, a delightful sensation. My nipples wrinkled. He passed a hand over the mounded flesh, traced one curved pink aureole’s edge. Need flared through me, and my pussy dampened anew.
He smiled. “I suppose that I will have to learn to enjoy the public sex that your customs demand. And I may as well” He slid an arm around me and bent his head to kiss first one nipple and then the other, licking around the aureole, sucking to lengthen the tips until they were hard and distended.
He gripped my left one between his teeth and gave it a sharp little nip. I gasped, “Storne!”
“Did that hurt?”
“A little.”
He rubbed his lips over the tiny pain he’d caused, and the sting dissolved into a haze of pleasure. He took one of the scissorlike appendages and opened the clasp, then closed it around my swollen nipple.
The tiny pearls gripped the very tip of my breast, lighting a spark of need that zipped to my pussy. I rested my face against his chest, breathing deeply in a vain attempt to control my reaction. I felt heat in my cheeks and the softness of his velvet doublet, my pulsing array of dizzying sensations.
He dropped the chain, and the slight weight tugging on my nipple built my pussy’s spark into a fire. He lifted my right breast higher and pinched my nipple, kissed and licked the tip. When it also swelled, he fastened the other clip to it. The fire roared into a blaze, and I grabbed his shoulders, flinging back my head. He laid a trail of kisses across my bare chest, up to my throat, along my jawline before he reached my lips.
This time, he took my mouth with a commanding kiss, holding me so tightly that I could feel the embroidery on his doublet abrade my naked breasts. My captured nipples rubbed across velvet, scraped across silver thread. I tore my lips away from his and I cried out, heedless of the warriors and servants below. I cared for nothing but the man who held me in his arms, who had claimed me when he chained my breasts, took my mouth.

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Liquid Silver Books and Ai Press, where she is currently Managing Editor. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

--Find her books at

--For editing services, email her at
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--She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun

Tuesday, 28 January 2014

Special Guest Victoria Blisse!

Let's give a special welcome to a very busy and successful author...Victoria blisse!

Like Buses….

My last few releases all came at once!  I concentrated on A Blisse Christmas Collection in the run up to Christmas, but I had three other releases out at the same and so I’m giving them some love now January is here.

Here’s a brief introduction and mini excerpt from each so you can pick and mix which you like!

Making it Real is an old release with a new cover because it’s now in paperback!
Mary and Will meet online, can they take their rocky relationship from computer to reality?


 “You’ve got bit of snow just here…” he barely whispered the words as his fingers brushed gently against my cheek. They were cold but they heated me up, slowly at first. The flames of lust licked down his fingers to my cheek and then to my neck and lower to suffuse my chest.

Satisfying Desires is a BDSM short with a food theme that is also contained within the Whip it Up Anthology from Totally Bound.
Sally’s got a broken wrist and feels very sorry for herself. Local café owner Lucas recognises her needs and sets about satisfying all her desires in a uniquely dominant way.


He kissed me again with much more confidence and I groaned my delight when his tongue slipped between my lips. I knew it was crazy, in fact I did wonder for a moment if it was all just a painkiller induced hallucination, but I didn’t care, I was too busy enjoying it.

Really Cooking is a novel filled with hot bi guys and tasty food.
Paula breaks out of an abusive relationship and meets two hot guys in serious need of cooking lessons. But it’s more than the food that’s really cooking as Friday night becomes Menage fun night for them all!

“…my breasts were both a mess of dark, milk and white chocolate.
“Time to clean up.” Gary grinned over at Shane. “It’s a dirty job but someone has to do it.”

Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco and Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.
Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut by the Sea event taking place at Scarborough Library (UK) on the 14th June 2014. A day dedicated to erotica with  lots of author readings, fun giveaways and exciting talks.
She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker (She is TEB's Resident "Naked Chef") and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.
Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.
You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook , Twitter  and Pinterest

To find out more check out

Sunday, 26 January 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors #53

Hi Everyone and welcome to this weeks eight sentences. This week I am continuing with 'Ice and Spice' my anthology inclusion with The House of Erotica's 'Winter Warmers'. I have only skipped a couple of sentences.


“How long until our last train?” Abbie asked him.

Craig glanced down at his watch, “Just over an hour.”

Abbie grinned, “Come on then!” she was laughing and pulling his jacket sleeve, before Craig knew what was happening she had hailed a taxi.

“Soho please.” She told the driver and laughed when Craig looked shocked.
The driver moved slowly through the busy streets, though the journey was relatively short. 


Thank you for stopping by, I really appreciate your comments. To visit the other authors 

taking part today please click on the link below:


Sunday, 19 January 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors #52

Hello and welcome to my 52nd WeWrWa! That's a whole year of sharing snippets, where does the time go?
Until the end of this month I am continuing to share snippets from 'The House of Erotica's' anthology 'WinterWarmers Collection' and my inclusion 'Ice and Spice'. Abbie is now decorating the Christmas tree.

My Eight:

Abbie stopped when she pulled out a silver star, right in the centre and grinning foolishly was a photograph of the two of them together. A large smile spread across her face as she remembered the day it was taken:
“You’re beautiful, do you know that?” Craig murmured, his lips brushing her neck. They were in London doing last minute shopping and were stood before the huge tree in Trafalgar square. Abbie nestled into his arms and the warmth of his thick fleece.
“You’re biased.” she grinned.
Thank you for stopping by, please leave a comment I really appreciate it. Click on the link below to visit the other authors taking part today:
Inside you will find a collection of ten Christmas-themed erotic stories. From dressing up to light BDSM and even carol singing, there’s a story to give everyone that warm, fuzzy feeling during the cold winter months.

Authors included are: Annabeth Leong, Nicole Gestalt, Maxine Hooper, Angela R Sargenti, Jamie Rose, Nicky Raven, Victoria Blisse, Gemma Parkes, Tilly Hunter and Jade Taylor.


Friday, 17 January 2014

Men and their Penises by Jacqueline George

Men are different - I’m sure you have noticed - and one of the ways they differ from women is their attitude to their bodies. Specifically, the way they think about their penises. (Not that women have penises, but I’m sure you know what I mean.) Men are nuts about their cocks.
Women do have a variety of hang-ups about body shape - it is never quite what we would like - but for most of us these are simply grumbling discontents. They do not strike at your essential identity as a woman.
Somehow, men allow themselves to be defined by their penises. At a very basic level, too. A big one means I’m a manly man. A small one means I must be a wimp at the very least.
How can they be so simple? I recently read that two thirds of men believe their penis is smaller than average - something that just doesn’t make sense when you think about it. Compare this with the 80% of men who believe they are better than average drivers - driving skill being another attribute of masculinity.
Of course, most men would not recognise an average penis if it bit them. They simply don’t know what is average, but they are convinced it is a size or two larger than theirs. And nearly every man can you tell how long their instrument is, down to fractions of an inch. If only men were logical... but they are not, and so they award themselves more points the longer their penis is. Simply that. They don’t care if it is a handsome cock or a twisted, gnarly lump. Being circumcised does not earn them any more or less points. They don’t care about that, and they’re certainly not going to listen to your preference. Personally, I think an erect cock that curves nicely upwards looks better than a straight one, and it certainly massages the g-spot more effectively. I would give extra points for an upward curve, but who is listening to me? I’ve seen some cocks with quite alarming bends to one side or the other - they can be intriguing and should score highly in the novelty category...
Who thinks about the length of a stranger’s penis when he is trying to pick you up? Absolutely no-one, even though it would be nice to warned about extravagantly long ones in advance (ouch!). Women in general just don’t care. Size is not the issue at all. Your potential man does not need length to be a great lover; he does need personality and skill.
Still men carry the burden of their own making - if big is beautiful, I must be ugly.
It’s just so stupid! What about gay guys? Have you seen naked pics of beautiful gay models with big dicks? Where do they fit into the size = straight masculinity equation? (I hope gays at least have the commonsense to value beauty before size.)
Size doesn’t matter, but women have to be careful what they say. No matter how big or small it is, it needs frequent compliments. Never, ever compare it unfavourably to stalwart members you might have met before, or you might have a suicide on your hands.
I’m going to have a tee shirt printed up saying Any length - as long as you know what to do with it. Perhaps I’ll do some bumper stickers and fridge magnets too. Anything to convince men that women just don’t share their obsession with length.
Although, let me think about this a little. I might not care so much about long, but thick can be very pleasant. Something I can’t get my hand around... Mmmh! 
Jacqueline lives in Far North Queensland, on the shore of the Coral Sea. She keeps herself busy with her cats and garden, and by writing books - some of which are far too naughty for her own good. You can find out more about Jacqueline and her books at

Tuesday, 14 January 2014

Tantalising Tuesday

Hello Everyone and welcome to my first Tantalising Tuesday post of 2014. Each week a group of authors choose an individual photograph and write about it using 200 words. Below is mine, enjoy!:


                          ( 'Phonebox In The Snow' by Graeme Weatherston

I hadn’t even noticed the telephone box on the corner of Havisham road, until it started ringing. I nearly ignored its shrill sound interrupting my thoughts as I shuffled by with wet snow soaking my suede boots. Something made me stop. With a sigh I pulled at the door, kicking away the small drifts from the bottom.
“Hello?” I held the receiver away from my mouth as I spoke.
It was a man’s voice.
“Could you just see if my wallet is on the floor in there?”
In the corner of the wet floor, half hidden by a chocolate wrapper there was something black. I reached down to pick it up.
“Yes!” I exclaimed, “I think I have it here!”
“Brilliant!” he replied, “Could you bring it to me?”
“I’m in the coffee shop, just over the road.”
Puzzled I replaced the receiver and went outside. Waving at me from the window of ‘Sadie’s’ café was someone I really wanted to know. He grinned as he stood to greet me, ignoring my shocked face.
“I’ve seen you walk past here every day.” he said.
Running my eyes across his handsome face and mischievous smile I had thoughts that would melt the snow.


Thank you for stopping by today, please leave a comment. To visit the other blogs taking part today please click on the links below:

Sunday, 12 January 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors #51

Hi and welcome to this week's Eight sentences from me! Today I thought I would share eight from a recently released anthology I was proud to be included in. The book is called 'Winter Warmers Collection' from The House of Erotica and my story is 'Ice and Spice':


It was raining again. Christmas wasn’t a time for rain it was a time for snow, deep, crisp and even snow. Maybe somebody should tell the sky that. Abbie stared down at her fingernails, they were in desperate need of a manicure and polish but it was the last thing she felt like doing right now. What she really felt like doing right this very moment was to climb on top of Craig and take him deep inside her. But Craig wasn’t here and he wouldn’t be home until the weekend hence the raggedy nails.
Abbie sighed then stretched then sighed again, she missed Craig so much. This time he had
 been gone for three whole weeks, but still, she reminded herself, he would be home in time for Christmas. 

Thank you for stopping by! Please leave a comment as I really appreciate it. To visit the other authors taking part today please click on the link below:

Inside you will find a collection of ten Christmas-themed erotic stories. From dressing up to light BDSM and even carol singing, there’s a story to give everyone that warm, fuzzy feeling during the cold winter months.

Authors included are: Annabeth Leong, Nicole Gestalt, Maxine Hooper, Angela R Sargenti, Jamie Rose, Nicky Raven, Victoria Blisse, Gemma Parkes, Tilly Hunter and Jade Taylor.


Sunday, 5 January 2014

Weekend Writing Warriors #50

Happy New Year! Welcome to the first wewriwa of 2014! It's going to be a good year this year, I can feel it in my bones!
I am kicking the year off with eight sentences from a current, untitled, work in progress.
I'd love to know what you think.

My Eight:

I was born and bred a city girl but right now I needed tranquility. I had been here before, just a few months ago. The beauty of the park and the vast outlay of the lake had taken my breath away. It was just perfect. Today was no exception and I cleared my mind of all but the most fleeting of thoughts as I stared at the perfectly reflected images of the trees spread out along the water’s edges. Somewhere in the distance I could make out the raggedy outline of a lone fisherman watching the water with hopeful eyes. Life was good.
Thank you for visiting today, please leave a comment as I really appreciate it! To visit the other authors taking part today please click on the link below:

Friday, 3 January 2014

Stately Pleasures by Lucy Felthouse
Alice Brown has just landed her dream job. Property manager at Davenport Manor, a British stately home. It’s only a nine-month contract to cover maternity leave, but it’s the boost up the career ladder she so desperately needs.
Unfortunately, things don’t get off to the best start, when Alice finds her boss, Jeremy Davenport, in a compromising position. Far from being embarrassed by what’s happened, Jeremy turns things around on Alice and makes her out to be the one in the wrong. So when he and his best friend and head of security, Ethan Hayes, then throw an ultimatum at her, she’s so stunned and confused that she goes along with their indecent proposal.
When the dust settles and Alice has time to think about things, though, she realises that perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing. There are worse things she could be doing to advance her career, after all.

                                                Add to Goodreads
Alice took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. Repeated the process once more. Then, realising she could sit there all day doing it and not feel any calmer, she forced herself to step out of the car and close and lock the door.
She bent to peer into the wing mirror of the vehicle and checked her hair and make-up. Satisfied, she straightened, then turned on her heel and walked quickly across the driveway to the great house before her nerve failed her.
Davenport Manor was currently open for visitors, so she walked in through the front door and was met by a smiling elderly lady.
‘Can I help you?’ the woman asked kindly.
‘Yes, please.’ Alice twisted her hands together nervously. ‘I’m here to see Mr Davenport. I’m here for an interview for the property manager’s role.’
‘Yes, of course,’ the woman replied, ‘that’s today, isn’t it? Follow me; I’ll take you to Mr Davenport’s office. But just hang on one second.’
She ducked through the doorway into the next room and spoke with her colleague. Alice guessed she was letting her co-worker know she’d be gone for a few minutes. A few seconds later, she was back. ‘OK, follow me, Miss …’
‘Brown,’ Alice said, then fell in behind the other woman as she led her to Mr Davenport’s office, and the interview that could change her life for ever. It was hardly surprising that she was shaking like a leaf.
Alice quickly felt lost as their journey took several twists and turns along dim corridors – their blinds drawn to protect paintings, tapestries, and furniture from the sunlight – and up a flight of stairs. She had a few seconds to worry about finding her way if she was lucky enough to get the job, then, suddenly, her guide stopped outside a door and turned around.
‘Here you go, Miss Brown. Mr Davenport’s office. Good luck with your interview.’
Alice smiled and thanked the elderly woman, then smoothed down her skirt, which also conveniently helped wipe the nervous sweat off her hands. She stood up straight, gave herself a mental pep talk about being more than qualified for the role, and knocked on the door.
Alice knew that voice could only belong to Jeremy Davenport. The posh accent, and the fact he’d said “enter” instead of “come in”, screamed money and an upper-class upbringing. Alice was suddenly nervous of her broad Midlands accent and lowly background, despite the fact she’d worked her backside off to get into a decent university in order to gain a Bachelor of Arts degree and then a Master’s degree. No matter what she sounded like, or what her past was, she had all the skills necessary to do the job she was about to be interviewed for.
Suddenly, she realised that she’d left rather a long pause before opening the door, and she turned the handle before the occupants of the room thought they were about to interview some kind of simpleton who couldn’t follow a simple instruction.
Fixing a polite – but hopefully not inane – smile onto her face, Alice stepped into Jeremy Davenport’s office. Her first thought – which certainly did nothing to help her nerves – was good God, he’s hot.
Jeremy sat behind a desk, with a heavily pregnant woman sitting beside it. Alice barely noticed the woman. All she saw was him. A man with cropped dark brown hair, hazel/green eyes, a jawline you could cut bread with, and lips that looked capable of doing incredibly wicked, sexual things to a woman. Or a man. Alice had no idea what his sexuality was, but she found herself hoping he liked women.
She chastised herself. Even if he did like women, he wouldn’t go for someone like her. A Plain Jane, with mousy brown shoulder-length hair, blue eyes, average height and above average weight. Alice had always known she’d never be a supermodel, so she’d worked extra hard academically, and here she was. About to be interviewed for her dream job.
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over eighty publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: