Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I kick off the Excessica chat tomorrow. The next two days there will be a chat on the Excessica group to wrap up the Scavenger Hunt. At the end (10/1 during Selena Kitt's slot) the winner of a Kindle 3 will be announced. So run over and join and be there for my snippets and chatting and question answering and a prize from...me! And others too. I think it'll be a super fun and dirty way to end the week.
"Yes. Touching myself.” Lucas pushed his fingers higher when I said it. My confession earned me a rough rub of his wide thumb over my clit. He went right to it like he had that X-ray vision I feared. Simply ran a line up my leg and centered in on me there. He stroked, the pressure soft and perfect. My eyes fell closed and my head tipped back.
“Does that feel good, Ember?”
I nodded, it was all I could do. Lucas removed his hand. I opened my eyes and he stared at me like I had been here a thousand times and we’d known each other forever. I read that look and said, out loud, “Yes. It feels good.”
I was rewarded for my verbal skills. His finger returned and pushed me more firmly, rubbed a half-assed, lazy circle that curled my bare toes on the cool tile floor. Watching his face made me uncoil inside. Pieces of the horrible night lifted off of me, fell away in dirty chunks as he moved closer. I would have been surprised if a sheet of paper would fit between our lips, and yet, he did not kiss me. Instead he said right up to me, so close I couldn’t lie. “What were you thinking about?”
My breath stuttered and I blew it out softly. My lips shivered belying my nerves. The truth? Lie? I found his eyes. So close and so brown, gold flecks like some gorgeous but dangerous animal. His hand had left--he wasn’t touching me. I felt the absence of his touch. Lying wasn’t an option. “You. I was thinking about…” I forced the last word out. “You.”
This time he did not touch me through the sweatpants. He pushed them down just in the front. Just enough to expose the angle of my hipbones, the smooth hill of my shaved sex. I watched, my breath stalled in my lungs, my ears rang. He pushed a finger into my cunt. Slow. It disappeared to the first knuckle and only then did my brain and body reconcile the sight and the sensation. I inhaled the air I’d been denying myself. Middle knuckle. All the way in. He stopped, one finger deep in my wetness, smiled. That fraction of an inch disappeared and he kissed me. Softly at first. Gentle.
“Oh,” I said. I didn’t take the time to feel stupid. It had slipped out and this bizarre but perfect moment in time could not be wasted with worrying that I was stupid.
“Yeah. Oh. You’re very wet down there, Ember. Your pussy is wet. For me.” He flexed deep inside me and it was as if he had pushed an invisible switch with the pad of his finger. My nipples went taut, my belly fluttered with a delicious pressure. “Your cunt is wet. For me.” His lips pressed to my earlobe and he pushed another finger inside.
“Yes, it is. It is for you.”
“Say my name.”
“Say it.” His thumb slipped over my clit, wet with my own silken juices. Had I stopped breathing? It felt like it.
“Yes, Lucas, for you.” My hips bumped up under him. I gripped the sides of his ladder back chair. Holding hard to the woven seat like it would crumble under me. I watched his hand in my pants. Watched his eyes track my movements. I sat trapped and mesmerized as he leaned in, kissing me again. He bit my bottom lip. Pain and pleasure warred in my nerve endings.
Holding the pink flesh between his sharp white teeth he said, “Say it.”
My mind scrambled for a moment. Frantic beats of anxiety pulsed in me. Say what? What should I do? But then he pressed my clit, circled, pressed harder and harder until my vision was peppered with little white spots. I started to come and he almost pulled his fingers free to deny me. Magically, mercifully, my brain kicked in. “Yes, Sir,” I whispered. “Yes, Sir. For you.”
“You’re coming for me.” He bit my throat above my collar bone. The sparks of pain accenting the liquid pleasure that rolled through my cunt, filled my womb.
“Yes, Sir, for you,” I managed before my head fell back and my hips shot up. His hand in my pants, his mouth at my throat and what wanted to be fear in my mind. But I tamped it down. Just for now. I could worry when it didn’t feel so fucking good.
Pass me that ice water...
This week's Mazels go to:
Alison Tyler for a super duper author spotlight by Violet Blue for Digita Publishing. Woo and also hoo!
Cora Zane for her upcoming Cyber vamps. Her EC release will be on November 4th but I am already enjoying her chesty cover. Are my fangs showing?
And Cassie Exline for making me pee my pants when this popped up in front of me on her blog...
God. I need a drink now.
Anyway, if you see a mazel in the making let me know. Because I love to say it. Mazel, mazel, mazel. In the meantime, go check Andy's Bravo blog. He is too cute.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The answer to that riddle: two o'clock tired. Kids off to school, breakfast dishes done, errata done and sent, short story done and sent, new short story started, library hit, store hit, liquor store hit, laundry done, done, and done and folded sort of tired.
Not yet. Not. Yet. But I think I need a pot of---->
But at least I feel like I got a lot done. I even ran. How, I do not know. But I did it. And I just have one question...is it bed time yet?
Monday, September 27, 2010
Almost. Done. Errata...*gasp*
Sunday, September 26, 2010
And the man said--with faux surprise-- "Noooooo. You?"
From Blackout by Alison Tyler
“Trust me, baby. This time, I’m in charge.”
He didn’t say, “Let me be in charge.” He didn’t ask. He told. I felt something turn over inside of me, slowly, like a key twisting in a sticky lock.
“What are you going to do to me?” I asked as he tied the blindfold behind my heavy dark hair. There was a tremor in my voice. We both knew that I was scared.
“You’ll have to wait to find out, won’t you?”
I didn’t like that. I felt my body tense, but Jay started to kiss me—my lips, my cheeks,the hollow of my neck. He moved along my body, working his way along my stomach, my ribs, the insides of my thighs. Quickly, I forgot that I like to be in charge. What he was doing to me was too mesmerizing, too sexy. He avoided my breasts and my pussy, but focused everywhere else. I twisted and turned, writhing when he found a ticklish spot, bucking when he kissed somewhere unexpectedly sensitive. The heat from the fire made me feel sensuous and lazy. Jay’s tongue made me feel hot and crazy—filled with wanting. I hadn’t known begging could be so erotic—that is, my own begging. Hearing Jay ask me to do things to him has always turned me on. Now, I was the one to say, “Please, god, please kiss me.”
“I am kissing you.”
“No, Jay. Come on. Come on…”
Kiss Me Martini glass here on Etsy
My best analogy for explanation to my mom was my mind is a gumball machine. And I truly do sort of see it that way. A gumball is always lined up to drop so to speak. When I write it, the gumball drops and the next one nestles up at the top of the shoot ready to go. How do dentists drill teeth and doctors suture wounds and butchers cut meat and checkout boys bag groceries? They just do.
I've been called prolific. Sometimes it's said in amazement, sometimes it's condescending, sometimes it sounds dirty like I'm cheating. However you want to mean it, I just take it as fact. Like she has blue eyes or she has dirty blonde hair or she's tall. She's prolific. I have a lot of gumballs in my um...head. I think most writers do if you want my humble opinion.
Sometimes the machine goes wonky and drops a bunch of them at once. And then I'm sliding around in a whole mess of colorful ideas trying really hard to grasp one and flailing about like someone in a ball pit (think kids' birthday party). That's where I am right now. My brain has dropped about seven ideas and I'm rolling around surrounded my vibrantly colored plots and feeling a tiny bit desperate.
Also, for a few reasons, feeling a bit down and out (but not in Beverly Hills, alas). I'm trying to write, de-funk my mood and not give into the icks. Something I can do very easily if I let myself. So that's about it for now. I'll just sit here dressed in purple (Go Ravens!) and try and work on one ball...um...at a time. Yeah, see, that's an analogy that went too far ;)
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Now it is boy child's birthday weekend so I'm off. It started last night and it'll go on till tomorrow (or beyond). We sure do milk the birthday dealio around here. heh.
Friday, September 24, 2010
These stories are steeped in succulent pain and tender couplings, because in the world of long-time commitment - the hotter the fire, the longer it burns.Includes works from Alison Tyler, Jeremy Edwards, P.S. Haven, Craig Sorensen, Benjamin Eliot, Alison Seay and others!
Coming v.v. soon to print (once Amazon um...gets it up) and Kindle (ditto) and all over the place at your favorite vendors. For more info follow this handy dandy link to the book's page.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
p.s. less than two days to Coupling. Wooooohooo!!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
From here on out Twitter and Facebook will pretty much be just for updates. A tool, if you will. It's gotten to a point where all the social networking stuff has become a drain and a distraction to me. And that's just me, so Twitter-lovers and Facebook-soldiers carry on. I just find that it's become a sort of...sore spot of my own doing. So I'm undoing it. I said to the man one day (of Twitter), It's a tool. Would I get worked up over a hammer? No. So why am I getting worked up over this...
But this is where physician heal thyself comes in. I still carried on after that conversation. I went on with my chit chatty blurb writing. I caved to that false sense of kinship. Of contact, friendship, approval etc. Which is all good. However, for me, personally, I'm the kind of person that gets hit way too hard by people randomly being mean, needy, sad, weepy, depressed, kinetic, snarky, dark, crass etc. I get my feelings hurt or I get upset, irritated, annoyed, angry, sad, giddy, flabbergasted. Fill in the the adjective of your choice.
So it's time for me to stop letting little snippets of text influence my day. If I want input, I'll find real people in my life or email the friends I've made and maintained on line. If you want to follow me, interact with me, 'get to know me' this is the place to do it. If you want to really have some kind of connection with me, from now on, THIS is the place to do it.
Twitter is now a tool. It's my hammer. Facebook is now a tool. It's my screwdriver. When I have things to announce: Releases, anthos, contests, calls for sub, I'll put them on those places and here. But for the personal stuff, stories, excerpts all that happy crap--here is where it'll be.
Why am I even saying it? To keep myself on track. Twitter especially is the opening the fridge/cigarette break of my writing day. But as with eating due to boredom or once upon a time smoking because I had nothing else to do, it's not always good or harmless even. I get little bits of information from people I don't know and it can tweak my mood or even my writing. Bottom line is the social universe seems to be more harmful than good for a miswired type like me.
Hint one: sobbing incoherently because of a tweet I read about someone's (I didn't know) relationship (o_O)
Hint two: getting pissed and wanting to quit writing because people think nothing of crapping all over each other's writing in 140 characters or less
Hint three: today when a virus invaded Twitter and I realized I was more freaked out about that than my daughter getting a cold (also a virus) last week.
So if you want work/writing info on me, follow me on my hammer or my screwdriver. If you want updates about me and my life and my stuff and some kind of back and forth, welcome to my web home aka my blog. Pull up a chair and tell me about yourself. Use as many characters as you like...
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Can you see the halo around them? Can you hear the heavenly choir?
I bought a new robe. I love it. It's the color of eggplant, light like a cardigan, hits me just right, was cheap and I feel like a movie heroine in it. I am wearing it now despite warming temperatures (it's been cool for like a week so WTF!?) and humidity. I still feel like a movie heroine. A sticky, sticky movie heroine.
The dog keeps farting. Please remove him.
I am currently fixated on the color red again and wolves though my next paranormal does not just feature a wolf but a wolf and a vampire. Be still my heart. Heh. Get it? Dead humor.
And...I read this magazine article about women's purses and what's in them. They had stuff like 'solid perfume' and 'wine wipes' (I'll take a case) and tweezers and sewing kits. I looked in my purse: A pencil case I use as a makeup case. Hey, I liked the pattern. Lipgloss, dental floss, pennies. More pennies. A tissue-crumpled. Sixteen spent shopping lists. Four billion receipts. A wallet that is bursting and weeps when you open it to extract money. A coupon holder that I bought simply because it had skulls on it. All the coupons are expired. My Superman spanking Ms. Lane cigarette case that I use as a business card holder (from Alison Tyler). A tin of mints to keep boy child busy while we wait at the docs/dentist/school (crunch-crunch-crunch...can I have another?). More pennies. Oh look! A nickel! A man from the Renaissance festival...another map from the Renaissance Festival. A parking receipt. A...I don't know what that is. We'll just throw it out.
I feel very unglamorous right now. And by the way...come get this farting dog!
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
What can I say? I'm a big flake. So here I go. Off I go. Onward and upward. Soldier on. Put on the helmet, fight, fight, fight! I know I can most likely even finish it up today if I'd just STFU and do. eeeet (to Quote T. Harrison). So...um, yeah, I'm gonna go do that now.
Flake, over and out.
sexy cuff links I need for my vintage men's white dress shirt available (to purchase as a gift for me ;) here
Halo Reach! and you'd know that if you own a teenager boy with Xbox like self. So in honor of Halo Reach, I am posting one of Tobuscus's literal trailers. Now...if you have never seen this guy, I warn you...he's addicting. The boy showed me one the other day and then an hour later we were all still watching them. My fave has to be Farmville and Mafia Wars. Heh. But today we'll stick with the MOST ANTICIPATED GAME OF THE YEAR! and I have to drink coffee so we can go pick up said MAGOTY!
p.s. and to celebrate my notquiteawakeness i posted this on the wrong blog, so if anyone at the Self Publishing Revolution saw it for a split second, my bad! and now i go to pour that coffee...
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Bad, I am bone dead tired for some reason today. Good, I am only about 5,500 from finishing my project that will go to print. Bad, like I said I'm tired--really, really wiped. Good, it's so breezy and cool I can laze about with my hoodie and socks on. And in a moment I'll make a cup of tea.
I guess you can always wring something good out of something bad if you really try. Happy Friday. ;)
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
cleaning, organizing, off-line mostly, reading books, no writing. Just vegging with the family, getting some stuff done slow and unrushed, playing Sports Toss (aka Corn Hole, heh), losing at Sports Toss. Walks and the food store, gluten free bagels that rocked my world and a car full of donation items from purging house.
But now we return to our normally scheduled project. I left my sexy guy handcuffed to a fence for three days. Poor baby. I guess it's time I write him out of that, don't ya think?
Good morning. Happy Monday.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
I've found Udi's through the grapevine. If I could smoosh my lips through the computer and kiss the people at Udi's I would. Because today I tried an Udi's bagel. I nearly wept. I did dance. It was soft (soft!), airy, chewy, light, crispy. All adjectives I've been missing for about a year. (Most GF bread is dense and crumbly and MUST be toasted). I am so fucking excited I can't stand it. My health food store gets the bread shipment this week. I'll be there with bells on. MULTIPLE loaves for me because the bagels have shown me the skill of this bakery. And when winter hits and colds start to assault, I can so totally have crispy, comforting buttered...TOAST! Or a bagel. Woop!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go make a lovely nommy pizza bagel.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Today is my day on the Spank! tour and I'm posting a teeny nibble of my story Sugar. I'm always getting in trouble--that kind--for little things. Stealing a piece of fudge when I make him swear not to let me eat any more lest I get sick, laughing when I get the Jeopardy! question right and he doesn't, being argumentative when I'm cranky, wearing pants that look too good (heh)...blinking. Sometimes I think I'm so ornery so I have to pay the price. What do you mean duh?
Don't forget to follow the tour. List can be found here. Yesterday's post was on the adoration of spanking and who knows what tomorrow's will be!
From Sugar by Sommer Marsden
I suck the chocolate off my finger feeling something akin to a state of arousal. I'm locked in a traffic jam of bodies as everyone crowds and drinks and jostles to find the birthday boy. I sip my vodka and tonic and sigh as if I've just had a good, good orgasm.
"What's that on your breath, babe? Thought we were off the sugar," Jake says against the back of my neck. His lips pressed to the small spot of skin to the right of my nape.
I freeze, heart pounding as if I've been caught mid pillage or plunder or rape. All I've really done is eat a piece of chocolate fudge. One that was roughly the size of a dime. That was all. One little nibble and now...now I'm fucked.
"We are," I sigh and take a big swig of my drink. No dainty sip this time. I have a feeling I will need the liquid courage soon.
"Is that you impression of abstaining?" He's still pressed to the back of me but his hand comes into view. Large, powerful, freckled at the knuckles. He turns my hand over, palm up and traces the lines on my skin. Then he points, matter of factly at a smudge of fudge on the tip of one finger. "That's a pretty sad rendition of refrain."
My stomach is turning, turning, turning nervously. An invisible Ferris wheel of emotion, lit with small colored lights of anticipation. It turns inside of me and I try to hear the party din over my heart beating in my ears. "It was just a tiny piece," I say.
Someone bangs into Jack, thusly banging him into me. I feel his cock, hard and eager, press the back of my short denim skirt. My panties grow wet in the space of two breaths once I feel that. Now I am certain. I am definitely in trouble and I am in that kind of trouble.
His one visible arm wraps my waist in a possessive snaking grasp and he laughs softly in my ear. My nipples respond, my pulse jacks up, I try to swallow and my throat feels stuffed with cotton or tissues. I am a mess but when someone waves to me calling, Sheila, I grin and nod as if I am totally in control. The taste of fudge is still on the tip of my tongue. Just a tiny sugar resonation, but it seems to be all I can taste.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
"As to be expected from Ms Marsden, it was.....SMOKIN' HOT! " I love that line. :)
I'll also totally take this little compliment "And Sommer's 'Sneaking in the Backdoor' is probably the most romantic anal sex story you'll ever read. Beautiful..." Aw shucks. ;)
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Love changes. Love grows. The world is indifferent to the fate of any one woman or man, but will use its bulk and its duties to obstruct lovers. Jobs, parenting, housework...onerous tasks, but when performed for a lover, they become gifts. For one couple, a stolen afternoon, a ride in the mountains, affords an opportunity to express their undying love. The way it was...and the way it has grown.
SEPT 1 – SEPT 30
eXcessica is giving away TWO Kindle 3 eBook Readers with wi-fi AND they will be already pre-loaded with dozens (75+!) of eXcessica eBooks (list of erotic books that will come with the Kindle 3 on the site).
Our scavenger hunt runs from Sept 1 – Sept 30, 2010 and each “found” icon earns you an entry!
To learn more about how you can play click the icon. I mean...a Kindle! Pre-loaded with smut. Score!