Trust tuesday.. so you can catch up.

A while ago I started this on another blog. Now I think it's worth finishing. First though, I'll give you a chance to catch up...

Trust Tuesday! What the fuck was she playing at? Gail Porter she wasn't. She'd been blond.

After a near miss with the car park entrance, James had the car parked, in his designated place, engine off and his mobile out in record time. It was answered just as swiftly.

"Oosie? What the fuck is that all about. On the side of my headquarters, for God's sake. How the hell do I go in and face my employees now? After they've all looked at a five storey high projection of your rear?"

 Not that it wasn't a bloody gorgeous rear and an amazingly pert ass, that wasn't the point. The fact it was on show in its all it's five storey glory, where the world and his wife could see it, including all two hundred plus employees of Clancy International was. Especially with the bye line... 'See what you are giving up?' She was even peering over her shoulder, long russet hair pushed seductively to one side.

"Like it?" The voice was light, bubbly, and he hoped with a little bit of tension in it. Well if it wasn't now, it would be soon. "I told you, Jamie, you'd learn what you're missing. Your loss."

"Get it taken down. Now. And for fucks sake do not call me Jamie"

"No can do, Jamie my love. Agree to either of your oh so delicately couched demands. Sorry. I'm not there, I'm here. You're there, and really I can't believe you haven't ordered it to be removed."

Neither could he. It should have been his first action, instead of confronting her. She didn't sound the least bit sorry, rather gleeful and teasing, damn her. Why couldn't she accept it was over?

"Oosie." He warned. "Give it up. I've told you, it's a no go."

"Never. If it doesn't bother me, why should it bother you? You're a coward Jamie Clancy. A wuss. You're denying something beautiful and great on a stupid sense of chivalry that I don't even want."

"It's over." He reiterated. "Accept it."

"In your dreams, Jamie. Check your office." The phone went dead. What the hell did she mean by that.? Tuesday Anna-Maria Benedetti was proving even more stubborn than he was.

He opened the door.

He stared.Stared and glared. What the hell was that? More to the point, how did she arrange it? Behind him, he heard his P.A. clear her throat nervously and stifle a laugh.

“What the f...?” She did laugh then, and he turned round and stared at her instead of the room that had been his orderly office.

“Miriam?”

She shook her head, a forty-something, elegant, super-efficient and happily married blond, most of his execs were more than half in lust with her.

 “Nothing to do with me. I only got in five minutes before you, and being the non-pc person I am, I was getting the coffee machine going. I hadn’t opened your door. So sorry, no idea, but um, it’s certainly different.”

Oh it was that all right. Different was an understatement.

“Get maintenance up here.” He said grimly. “And find out who was responsible for this, this fiasco.” He waved his hands in disgust.

Miriam laughed again, her eyes sparkling.

“I’d say Tuesday, wouldn’t you? Trust Tuesday to think of something like this.”

Trust Tuesday. Huh, he’d trust her all right. Trust her not to accept his diktat and make his life... Make it what? Interesting? Difficult? Brighter? Happy? No James, do not go there he told himself. It’s over. Your choice. If she can’t accept it, that’s her choice.

“Just get maintenance, Miriam,” he said wearily. He ran his hand over his short cropped hair, quashing the spark of amusement that tempered his irritation. What the hell was he going to do? “I’ll take my coffee into my lounge, and read through the Wilkins report. We'll work in here and the lounge until that.” He waved his hand in the direction of his office, “that whatever you call it is sorted out.

She nodded and handed him a mug of coffee strong enough stand the spoon up, before picking up the phone. James turned around, away from the irritation of his office, had a thought and turned back to Miriam. “Oh and get someone to remove Tuesday’s attributes from the side of the building will you? Thanks.”

He moved across the office, and opened another door.

To walk straight into another irritation.

“Tuesday. What the fuck are you doing here? Dressed, or hell, undressed like that? Now what the fuck is this?" James stared. For one moment he thought he was hallucinating. 

"Your nemesis, my love. I told you, you're screwed. I love you J. You said you loved me, and then you blow me off because I was too young. Or so you said. Too young, or because the way I earn my money for uni doesn't fit in with your starched corporate life style? Boring J. Very, very boring. and I thought better of you."

He watched one bare shoulder lift and fall. His cock tightened and he felt the papers he was holding slip from his grasp

"For fucks sake Oosie, this is my office, you're sat on that settee knickers half off and say ..." He was lost for words.

"That I love you?" She offered helpfully. "I do you moron. Our age difference is bugger all. It's my work you can't hack. Be honest. Having a girlfriend, fiancee wife like me is a no go according to you." He winced, and she grimaced. "You asked me, " she reminded him. "I said yes. I haven't changed my mind, but I can't change my age and I bloody won't change my proffession. Build a bridge and get over it."

"Or? Breech of promise doesn't exist any more." He was taunting her. "Shall I strip off and show you what your recalcitrance means you are missing?" His hands went to the top of his trousers.

"Oh please do." She was all but purring.

Enough. "That's enough Ossie. I can't accept this and so it's better we split. If nothing else it shows how unsuited we are." He watched,as her face fell, defeated.

"You think so?

He sighed.

"Ah Ossie, I know so."

"Oh well. So be it." He watched in fascinating horror, as she finished removing her hot red panties. underneath was a bright red thong. Her top followed and she stood up. Proud in her undress. Red stocking, red thong and red nipple tassels. All the accessories for the lap dancing club she worked at. 

"What the fuck?"

She smiled. sex, lust and sorrow? All mingled there.

"Ah Well, J. I'm late for work." She stood tall and proud. In horror he watched as she opened the door, her body on display for his gawping employes, who if by osmosis had gathered in the corridor.

As she reached the door she turned.

"Darling." Her voice as befitting a drama student carried to all  corners."You were magnificent."

TB C

hot women and hot men today.

Meet Jorja Lovett and her latest hero and heroine..

Bet that caught your attention. 


Hi and welcome Jorja.

Thanks for having me here today Raven to tell you about my new release, ‘Jackie and Her Loose Talk’. It’s part of Evernight Publishing’s Naughty Fairy Tale line and is loosely based on the Jack and the Beanstalk story. I’m sharing a little excerpt with you but be warned there might be some…*whispers*…sex! Lol Enjoy xx

Blurb – Jackie and Her Loose Talk

Jackie Thompson is the kiss and tell queen, prepared to sleep her way to fame and fortune. Her latest escapade with two footballers is on course to secure her future but she trades it for a handful of magic beans…or in this case, the address of a reclusive billionaire.

Scarred by his past, Viktor Torok hides away from the outside world. When Jackie barges into his life he lets her get away in an effort to protect his privacy. But he hasn’t counted on the unwanted attraction that rages between them on their second meet.

Can she break through his walls and help them heal each other?

Excerpt

A gentle tug on his wrist woke Viktor from a heavy slumber. Through sleepy eyes he could make out Jackie’s blurry form at the top of the bed. “What are you doing?”

            “I thought you’d never wake up.” Another tug on his other wrist and he tried to sit up to see for himself. With both arms above his head, he couldn’t move.

“What the fuck?” He tried again but found both wrists tied to the brass headboard with two of his silk ties.

Jackie straddled his waist, teasing his barely awake cock with her smooth pussy. “We’re going to work on a little trust exercise.”

“This doesn’t tally with the ‘fall back and I’ll catch you’ scenario we were taught on the training courses. I think I’d remember the ‘tie you naked to the bed and give you a boner’ version.” She leaned forward to test the knots, her breasts rubbing him into semi-arousal.

“Much more effective I find.” A little wiggle of her hips coaxed him into a full hard-on and she couldn’t hide the smile in her eyes. “Now, why are you so reluctant for me to go down on you?”

He admired her direct approach; it didn’t leave room for lies. “It’s a delicate piece of my anatomy which I am reluctant to put anywhere it could get bitten off.”

Jackie eyed his swollen manhood. “It doesn’t look very delicate to me. In fact, not too long ago I think it tried to nail me to a tree trunk. So, have you always had this phobia of blowjobs?”

“You should have been a therapist you know. Although I think you need the glasses and hair in a bun to pull it off effectively.”

She slapped his thigh but rather than chastising him, the sharp sting excited him further. “I’m serious.”

“Since Carmen, I don’t trust anyone not to hurt me, physically or otherwise.” The truth finally emerged as Viktor came to terms with his fucked up view of the world and everyone in it.

To his relief, Jackie kept her business-like manner rather than pity him. “A wise man once told me to lie back and enjoy. So—” A wave of her hand shooed him back onto the pillow.

“Is this you acting out some sort of Domme fantasy?” Smart-mouthing her was the only stalling technique in his armory right now as panic set in. Am I ready to give myself over so completely to another woman?

“Now you come to mention it…” She took his cock in hand and rubbed the crown against her slit.

“Shouldn’t we have a safe word or something so you stop when I say?” Cold sweat broke out on his forehead at being totally at her mercy.

She let go so his cock slapped back on his belly. “You’re right. Hmm, what about Beanstalk?”

“Beanstalk?” He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not. What size of Beanstalk?

“Yeah. Because it leads to such wonderful treasures.” Not giving him time to preen, Jackie bowed her head and took his cock deep into her mouth.

He fought his bindings, and curled his toes; desperate to take charge of his own body but Jackie’s mouth was definitely calling the shots. The swirl of her tongue around his shaft and the soft lips circling his girth threw his idea of careful control into turmoil. While he tried to form a coherent plan to dominate the situation, the blinding white light of impending orgasm obliterated all thoughts except the party going on between his legs.

Just as Viktor started to go with the flow, Jackie drew back from the base of his shaft and slowly slid him free of her tight hold. “Here ends lesson one.”

Find Jorja on Facebook http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Jorja-Lovett/179111238840916

Twitter @jorjalovett

Website  http://jorjalovettauthor.weebly.com/index.html

Blog http://jorja-lovett.blogspot.co.uk/?zx=3bf843554d7ccf9f

 
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-jackieandherloosetalk-893327-146.html
http://www.evernightpublishing.com/jackie-and-her-loose-talk-by-jorja-lovett/
http://www.bookstrand.com/jackie-and-her-loose-talk
http://www.amazon.com/Jackie-Loose-Naughty-Fairy-ebook/dp/B008P4L85O/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1343430742&sr=8-1&keywords=jackie+and+her+loose+talk
 

Six Sunday from A Most Unusual Mistress

A Most Unusual Mistress, my third book in Rogue Scandals, will be published as an ebook on August 17th. The print copy will be available shortly.

Here's my six. (Adriana has just discovered her fiance in a very compromising position with her dressmaker.)

Her eyes glinted in such a way that he felt certain...were they really sparks, he would burn.

“Agitated, oh, no, my lord, not agitated. Angry, annoyed, and to use words I am positive you frequently hear in other spheres of your life...you bugger!” Her cheeks reddened, and Ash felt his cock swell even more. 

She was magnificent; her rapid breathing swelling her breasts and causing them to push at the bodice of her dress. He opened his mouth to speak, but Adriana, it seemed, had not finished her character assassination of him.

Now to read all those other great sixes,

 https://www.sixsunday.com

A Most Unusual Mistress will be available from 

www.breathlesspress.com

Farewell to 'ings' or how I sent ing packing

No, not the village in Cumbria, I rather like you —and your pub.


This is the dreaded 'ing' at the end of a word. I can now say with some confidence that every other writer in the world can create away, safe in the knowledge there are no ing words they need to beware of. I stole them all.

*Sigh*


Yes, I think I'm must have used every last 'ing' word in the world in my last M/S. I'm too ashamed to tell you just how many I've found. As my lovely techno-guru, Cherie will tell you (she of the great Web design I have) I need talking through every step, one by one. and often over and over.


But I've managed to discover the find and replace bit. (Bit? See very technical, You know what I mean.)


Yes, what a great innovation. But oh no, what  a shame. In 25K I wouldn't have believed I could cram so many in. But cramm-ing was the name of the game. So was delet-ing. Ruthless and firm, I bid farewell to -ing. 


The Thesaurus was on fire, The fingers sore. At last, I ended triumphant! The only ings left were acceptable. Those in the middle of a word, they stayed with a smile on their face. (Yes it highlighted all them as well. To say I was freaked until I realized that was just because all ings were highlighted wherever they occurred in a word, would be an understatement.) A few others I gave gracious permission to remain.


The Rest? Deleted, replaced or rewritten. Sent to the trash box. I feel great. 


Now to start on the ly's!

Have a great Monday

love

R x

Six Sunday from Riding Ryder

Today's six are from Riding Ryder ( contemporary M/M0

“Um, not seeing you, not knowing where those magic hands will touch next,” he continued, “is so bloody erotic. Such a turn- on. And no, I can’t sense this; I’m just saying. I haven’t experienced this with anyone else.”

“No?” Shit, that’s a relief.

Riding Ryder is available from

www.breathlesspress.com

www.allromanceebooks.com

www.bookstrand.com

and amazon


www.sixsunday.com

Tiger Tiger..... come and meet a tiger

And meet the person who he insisted wrote his story, The lovely, talented Doris O'Connor. 
Hold on, have a look at Ink and his cover first. 
Okay, stop drooling~

Hi Doris,

 Sit Back, wriggle and get comfy, give me Budda. That's it. Now cup your fingers take deep breaths and relax.

Hi Raven, glad to be here. Watch that Budda, he'll get into everything!

Okay?

Yeah, think so, ta.

 Good.

How's the blood pressure?

Slowly getting back to normal, I think. Release days get me into such a tizzy!

What music shall I put on?

Anything with a beat J

What would you like to drink? Tea or wine? (Budda is fine, he has a bar of dairy milk, a steering wheel to play with, and grandma to cuddle.)

Coffee, please.

Now then, a mini bio in ten words or less, and you can't use mother, mum, wife or incredible author because we know that. Or shifters, saucepans (cos you want to hit me with one) or  ice cream.

Oh Bother

*glares*

Hopelessly romantic day dreamer, who likes to spin hot tales.

So now Doris, why tigers?

Because my characters did a 180 on me and announced they were shifters.  In book one of the series Estelle walks into her boss' office to find shredded paper everywhere and there are grooves on his oak desk that remind her of her cat's scratches. And right there and then he told me he was a tiger. It was absolutely useless to argue, so I simply sat back and took dictation.

Okay, so of course the next question, er why BDSM?

This was originally aimed at an anthology named Keyboards and Kink, so BDSM it was. The basic storyline popped into my head straight away when I read the submission call. When my hero announced he was a shifter it added another dimension, and it was great fun to write.

Right, so now, how did you decide Cherie had been through so much?

Heh, you make that sound as though I had any say in that. Cherie popped up in book one and I noticed there was a certain amount of tension between her and Ink. I didn't know why. I did know that she didn't like to be touched. So I had to figure out why? The more I delved into the reasons, the more she opened up, and once she started telling me her story there was no stopping her. I cried lots. I tell you, which probably makes me sound like a loon, but I'm a complete pantster, so my characters are very real people to me.

I simply take narration.

Give us a six sentence now?

"If I ever find you in here again, no number of safe words are going to stop me from claiming what's mine. Do you hear me, Cherie?"

She nodded her confirmation, not trusting her voice would work, as dread warred with the fierce yearning to be held by this man, to be claimed by him. By Jordan, the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago, when life was simpler, and Ink didn't exist.

"Look at me, girl."

She straightened her spine and forced herself to look at him.

That’s niiiiice.

 So now what  would you have Ink be if he wasn't a BDSM club owner? Why?

He would be in law enforcement of some sort. Perhaps the military. He's a very dominant person, a natural born leader, and he takes no prisoners.

I love Cherie, she has over come so much. How did you find her? Do you think all women are so strong?

I love writing strong heroines. All of my heroines have strong personalities and can take care of themselves. I cannot abide damsels in distress, and as the mother to five girls, it's important to me to be a strong role model. We as women have a lot of hats to wear, and as life gets more and more hectic the pressure on women just increases all the time. We need to be a size zero, with the perfect looks, perfect body, kids, house, blah, blah, blah.

Well, life isn't like that. I'm far from perfect, but I was raised with a strong sense of self-worth, and I do my best to instill that in my girls.  

So, Cherie, she wears many scars, emotionally, and physically. She is a curvy lady, who has been through a terrible ordeal, but she is a survivor. When her life is in tatters she finds her way back to the one man, who can help her, Ink. He needs her as much as she needs him. He drove her away years ago, and he has never forgiven himself for that.

Will they manage to heal each other? Well, you have to read the book J

Okay now you know I'm going to say something like this, so in 40 words or less, explain BDSM to those who don't get it or shudder at the thought.

It's all about trust, safety, and consent. Trust in your dom/me. Freedom that comes with placing your trust in someone else, to give over control completely, and to reach that place inside of you, where you're at peace.

 Right, thank you, I understand a bit more now.

 So lets have fun.

Your 5 favorite characters  from any of your books and why.

Sven Larsson from Scandinavian Scandal, because he was my first hero.

Marco Giovanni from Too Cold To Love. He undergoes such a big journey.

Kitty Giovanni from Too Hot To Handle. She's strong, passionate, and a fantastic mother and friend.

Cherie and Ink from Tiger Scars. I so loved writing their love story.

What is Cherie's favorite song and why?

Pussycat by Tom Jones – think it's self-explanatory, really!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ga3I5DTIA-E

If Ink had to have a tattoo on his groin what would it be (and do not say painful)

A curled whip.

Do you have a tattoo? Would you? If so where and what and well, why?

No, I haven't got one. Though I'm thinking about growing old disgracefully and getting one. Just as soon as I've figured out what I want.

How do you chose your hero and heroines names?

They tell me.

 And finally… Where do you get your fabulous titles from?

LOL. You know where, Raven. Riding her Tiger was your idea and Tiger Scars was a collective effort with my crit group. I'd narrowed it down to Scars of a Tiger or A Tiger's Scars. It was my rather fabulous editor who suggested Tiger Scars J

So are you going to share an excerpt? After teasing us with those six, I reckon we need more.

Would love to.

"Eyes on me, baby girl."

The softly delivered words held an unmistakable command she was unable to ignore.

"Good girl." His smile of approval warmed her from the inside out, even as his next words sent her into panic mode again. "Strip for me."

"No, I can't … I—" His finger on her lips stopped her, and Cherie froze at his exaggerated sigh.

"Are you arguing with me, girl?" The softly delivered words were deceptively gentle, and he tapped her lips once, before he stepped back and just watched her. Cherie kept her gaze on the floor, not daring to look at him. You didn't say no to Ink in full Dom mode, and his earlier gentleness notwithstanding, she knew he never truly lost his persona. It had been a huge part of him fifteen years ago, and from what she had observed over the last year, it was now as much a necessity for him as breathing. His reputation was as fearsome as it was just, never cruel, but always demanding, expecting instant obedience from any sub or employee – that was Ink – and that was the very reason she sought him out after all.

She shook her head, knowing that he was watching her every move as he slowly circled round her.

"So, what's it to be, girl?" She flinched at the intonation, the audible proof of his annoyance. Her fingers slowly went to the hooks on her Basque, her hands shaking so much she couldn't unhook the delicate loops. His large hands over her frozen ones stilled the movements, and she bit back a sob of relief.

"Remember to use your safe word, Cherie, if you have to. I'll stop. We regroup. I'm not a monster, but we won't leave here until you've beaten this." His gravelly voice washed over her, soothing her as much as the words, delivered with spine-tingling intensity. This was the man she remembered, the man who'd won her heart. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you, baby girl?"

He cupped her chin in his hand forcing her to look up at him and Cherie lost herself in the concern she read in his eyes. She nodded, and he smiled briefly, before he re-assumed control.

"I can't hear you. Use your words, girl."

The abrupt change in his attitude focused her like nothing else could, and she scrambled to comply with a shaky, "Yes, Sir."      

"Good girl. Now, strip!"

Again she tried to comply, her hands shaking so much it took several attempts to just unhook the first loop. She struggled on, taking courage from the quiet way Ink simply stood watching her. When she finally unhooked the last barrier and her breast fell free, his sharp intake of breath had her feverishly trying to cover herself.

"No, let me see."        

The terse command whipped through the air as effectively as the real thing would have, and she dropped her hands. Mortification spread through every cell of her body, and she clamped her eyes shut, not wanting to see the disgust in his eyes.

He continued to circle her slowly, and she jumped when his hands settled on her shoulders. They traced a path down her shoulder blades over the zigzag pattern of scars she knew were on her lower back. His hands caressed her hips drawing her stiff body back against him, and she gasped at the feel of his thick, long cock pressing into her. He dropped a kiss on her neck, and his hands skimmed across her ribcage until they cupped the heavy globes. He massaged them gently, causing her head to fall back on his shoulders as her body reacted to his nearness. His harsh breath in her ear, the reverent way in which he traced the scars crossing her tummy, his renewed intake of breath at the puckered, ugly area under her right breast, where the knife had sliced through her, leaving a sunken stretch of skin, all combined to slowly build her arousal.

"Never hide from me, baby girl. You're beautiful."

Fresh tears fell at the whispered words, and she shook her head. The slap to her inner thigh brought her head up, and her eyes flew open.

"Are you calling me a liar, girl?"

"No, I … I mean, sorry." She mumbled the words, and she winced at the sharp tug to her hair, forcing her to follow where he led. One hand at the back of her neck, the other on her chin she had no choice but to look at herself in the full length mirror.

"What do you see, when you look at yourself?"

Cherie sought his eyes, pleading with him, but he simply increased the pressure on her neck to the point of pain. His eyes hard, unforgiving flint held a hint of his tiger, his expression murderous.

"Answer me, girl. I grow tired of waiting. You don't want to add any more to the punishment you've already accumulated."

"P-punishment?"

Ink merely smiled, but his expression softened slightly when she started trembling; and he gentled his hold on her.

"I seem to recall you rather liked being punished, baby girl. Always pushing, always sassy." He traced his thumb over her lips, demanding entry, and she opened automatically. His eyes darkened, and he groaned when she sucked the digit into her mouth. A tiny spark of power went through Cherie at his reaction, and he narrowed his eyes and withdrew his thumb immediately.

"Nice try, girl. Now answer me. What do you see?"

He sighed at her whispered, "I can't," and stepped away and behind her. Goosebumps erupted on her skin at the loss of contact, and she shivered anew. Their gazes connected in the mirror, and she breathed a sigh of relief when his hands settled back on her hips, pulling her back against him.

"Shall I tell you what I see?" He lifted her breast out of the way so that the deep wound was clearly visible in the mirror. "I see a woman who survived. A strong woman, who should wear her scars with pride. A woman with curves a man wants to get lost in. I see my woman."

***

Oh wow! That is beautiful. 
I've a request, can we please have the blurb for Tiger Scars? And will you let us know how we can contact you, and of course give us all the buy links?


Of course, here you are.

Blurb

Can some scars ever truly heal?

Cherie ran away from Ink once. She is not going to get the chance to do so again, but helping her heal will take all of his skills as a Dom. Using Shibari, Knife play, and Ménage sex, he shows her that pleasure can be found in the things that haunt her.

Emotionally and physically scarred Cherie has sought refuge at Club Ink, where she keeps everyone at arm's length. When Ink forces her to face up to her demons, does her submission hold the key to her future happiness? Or will their shared past destroy them once and for all?

Wow okay, thank you so much. Oh? You want Budda back? Er he's a bit chocolatey at the moment. Um here's wet wipe!

 Now, what did I tell you about giving that boy too much chocolate!!


Ha ha *sniggers*


Now there's no way I'm letting Doris go without knowing how we can all get in touch with her, So Doris, details please.

Find me on the web here:

Website  Blog Twitter Facebook

I also recently joined Pinterest, which is proving far too addictive. My inspiration board for Tiger Scars is here.

http://pinterest.com/dorisoconnor/tiger-scars-club-ink/

Of course we all need to know where we can buy Cherie and Ink's story so...

http://www.evernightpublishing.com/tiger-scars-by-doris-oconnor/

http://www.amazon.com/Tiger-Scars-Club-Ink-ebook/dp/B008IVHIB2/ref=sr_1_13?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1341867290&sr=1-13

http://www.bookstrand.com/tiger-scars

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tigerscars-866823-142.html


Now, I've got to say goodbye, because I've got my credit card out and I'm going tiger shopping.

It's Sunday again. Say hello to Raig and Vairi

for this week's Six Sentence Sunday, I thought I'd tease you with a conversation between Raig and Vairi in The Price to Pay. 

"Lorna said you were a romantic, inspired by sexy accents, and as I’ve been told over the years, the Irish accent is just that, sexy, so I thought, well, why not? To be honest and truthful, the lilt is always there, it’s just been distilled over the years, I resurrected it for you.” He watched her as she seemed to mull over his statement.

“So, Rake, a good name by the way, what are you going to show me?”

His cock knew what he wanted, it was hard and tight up against the fly of his jeans, straining the zip in its effort to be free of its confines. He was glad Mr. Levi Strauss knew a thing or two about the strength of denim.

available from www.breathlesspress.com

www.allromanceebooks.com 

amazon, and 1placeforromance

To check out all the other great six sentences... just look here

http://www.sixsunday.com

Happy reading 

Rx

lovely Emily for you The independence day prize

AS my blog went A@#$ up and my net went down, Emily you win an ebook of mine. Take your pick.

hot hot.. and er wet?

Sadly not as you are expecting!

I've had a week in Devon with my DH, and for a few days our daughter. In a tiny estuary village called Shaldon, where the ferry, with its mock gun ports (painted in Napoleonic times) takes you across the river to Teignmouth.

Then you watch the cargo boats coming through an impossibly narrow channel to the docks, and marvel at the skill of the pilots!

Sometimes you take the tunnel through the cliffs to the beach 'proper' and make all kinds of scary noises to heat them echo, and smile at the parents carrying buggies, boats rings and kids up the steps. Ah, we remembered it well.

If you're lucky you'll see the net fishing from the beach, and maybe a shoal of mackerel in the river, watch the sun go down from the pub garden and listen to live music. Then wake up early and watch the sunrise.

Even in the rain, there's so much to do and see.

The weather was mixed, but it didn't stop us feeling glad that once more we'd returned there, and we will do again.

And so onto the south of France. Via a Logis near Rheims, in a tiny village, which dozed in the sunshine, and where we drank champagne in the courtyard to celebrate seeing the sun.

To St Paul en Foret, where we met up with DH sister and brother in law.

It was very hot. To exploring the area. Dusty streets, sleepy hill villages, plump juicy olives and chilled crisp champagne.

Great company, laughter and reminiscing.

Then the long drive north.

Finally back to Scotland.

Where the garden is very very green. And overgrown. and er wet!

But as much as i love traveling, it's so good to be home, wet overgrown garden and all. (and we did bring a little bit of our holidays home.  and we intend to drink it!)