Monday, 27 January 2014

come and enjoy some...Dark Tales


with London St James






Thanks Raven for having me today to talk about my Dark Tales Diaries series, part of the Romance on the Go Line from Evernight Publishing.
If you loved someone and one day they just vanished from your life, what would you do to try and find them?
The inspiration for this BDSM series of short stories sparked from a casual conversation with the love of my life. Two words, “Dark Tales,” poked at me. From there, I sat down and typed non-stop. Dark Tales Diaries: Volume 1 and the life of Tristan Blackthorn spilled out upon the “pages” of my laptop. He uses Blackthorn Publishing to manage his obsession of finding his lost love, believing he will find her somewhere within the erotic tales of others. So we get to follow his search, and read naughty stories that are being submitted to his publishing company for publication in his “Dark Tales Diaries.”
Since that first book, I’ve continued his story in Dark Tales Diaries: Volume 2.
I’ve had a lot of fun writing this series, and have started working on book 3, which will more than likely be a novel length book, delving into reuniting the lovers, and uncovering all the secrets behind the disappearance of Tristan’s long lost love, Keira. We will see where my characters take me to finish up their story.


Dark Tales Diaries: Volume One Spotlight Information

For years, Tristan Blackthorn has toiled to find his lost love. He finally decides to use Blackthorn Printing, along with his newly created Dark Tales Diaries, as a way to find her. Will her story be one of the three tales in Volume One?

Mistress Guinevere’s calling card is her Red Stilettos. She specializes in a particular fetish and always maintains her control, until a man from her past returns to test her will.

A recently divorced woman experiences the effects of empty nest syndrome after her twins head off to college. With the clock ticking away, she decides it’s far past time to seek out something that has always eluded her. Will she find what she’s looking for with The Leather’s Edge?

And a bored computer programmer learns what it’s like to feel sexual freedom after being bound by a Master in Safe Word.


Be Warned: bondage, anal sex, sex toys, fetish

Excerpt from Red Stilettos:

    “It’s been a long time,” he said in a voice that still sent shivers up my spine. “I was in town, and decided, why not?”
     I crossed my arms and eyed him suspiciously. “Humm…”
     “That’s it? All you have to say is, ‘Humm?’”
     “Humm is better than what I was really thinking, Marcus.”
     His mouth twitched at the corners, and I hated the fact I noticed how damn sexy his lips were.
     “Guinn,” he said.
    “Guinevere,” I corrected. I set my expression to that of unyielding stone and ignored those sparkling straight white teeth as he smiled. His wicked ways no longer affected me. I’d broken his spell two years ago, and I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I was Mistress Guinevere. I was in control, he wasn’t, and I would never relinquish the balance of power out of my favor again.
    He tilted his head in that roguish way and eyed me. Heat radiated from my core. “So, am I to stand here in the hall or are you going to let me come in, Guinevere?”
     “I hate you, Marcus, so why should I let you in?”
     “Hate is a strong word for someone who claimed no feelings for me whatsoever as she stormed out of my apartment a couple of years ago.”
     “What do you want? I don’t have times for your games,” I said rather tersely.
     “Let me in. Then I’ll tell you.”
     “You’re going to have to do better than that, Marcus. What’s wrong? Have you lost your touch? If you think that will entice me, you are so wrong.”
     Marcus Warner, Master Dom, pulled out a gorgeous pair of thigh-high, red leather, spike-heeled boots from behind his back, holding them out in front of him so I could see every lovely inch of the unmistakable Italian craftsmanship on the handmade beauties.
     “You won’t let me in even if I’m baring gifts?”
     I eyed the boots before returning my gaze to him.
    “What’s the old saying?” I asked. His perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted. “Isn’t it, beware of those baring gifts?”
     He dangled the boots. Swinging them from side to side. Tempting me.
     Bastard.
    I’ll give Marcus his dues. Since the first day I met him, he had my number, and during the year I spent with him, I gave him too much of myself, falling back into what I believed to be the weakness I worked so hard with Mistress Payne to rid myself of.
    Marcus sniffed the leather of the boots in his hand, giving me that smile again. He knew me well, maybe too well, and he knew those boots would be like kryptonite, cracking my will.
    “All right. You can come in, but only for a while.”
     “That’s my little, Guinn,” he said.
     “I’m not your little anything, and don’t call me Guinn!” I stepped aside so he could enter, shutting the door behind him.
    He strolled into my apartment as though he belonged, sat the boots down on my glass coffee table, and took a seat, rather casually, on my leather couch. He patted the space next to him.
     “Well, come on. I’m not going to bite, unless you want me to,” he said, releasing his sexy sideway smirk.
     I took a seat in the chair across from the couch. This was my house, and I’d sit where I wanted to.
    He chuckled, shook his head, leaned back, and kicked his feet out, positioning them under my coffee table.
     “Marcus, are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
     “To see you.”
     “I’m not buying that.”
     He shrugged.
     “Aren’t you going to try on the boots?”
     “No,” I said.
     “You know you want to,” he baited.
     “Listen. I’m not sure what you are up to, and frankly I really don’t care—”
     “I’m up to the business of you,” he said.
     “What do you mean?”
     “Maybe I let you go too soon. Maybe I regret it. Maybe I’ve decided it’s been long enough, and I want you back.”
     I snorted. “I left you, remember? You didn’t let me do anything.”
     There was that grin of his. The one that makes any woman consider her panties, his mouth, his tongue… Stop it, Guinevere. Don’t forget this is Marcus, the man you loath.
     “Really?” His onyx-colored eyes met me, and held me there with him. Stare for stare, we were locked in a secret power play for dominance.
     “We never worked well together,” I said. “You’re a dom, and I’m a dom, and neither is willing to give.”
     “Baby, you’re a switch. You like to dominate, but you also like to be dominated.”
     “No. I’m not,” I protested.
     “You always liked it when I took the control,” he said, assuredly. “With one word, you were wet for me.”
     “I like being in control. And I have no intention or interest in being submissive. Not for you, not for anybody.”
     “How long are you going to keep telling yourself that lie?”
     I stood up, pissed off and ready to rage. “Marcus, I don’t have to explain anything, justify my life and my choices, or put up with your shit. I think your time is up. I’d like to say it was good seeing you again, but that would be a lie.”
    “You’ve always lied to yourself when it comes to me and how I make you feel.”
     “You don’t make me feel anything, Marcus. Get over yourself.”
     I marched to the front door. Marcus followed behind me. I reached for the knob, and was stopped by his large hand as it covered mine. He placed his mouth to my ear. His warm breath tickled across my cheek.
    “Guinevere,” he said in a low, deep growl. Immediately, my sex trembled. And fuckadie, fuck, fuck, he was right. One word. And that one word was my name falling from his lips.


Dark Tales Diaries: Volume 1 Buy Links


Dark Tales Diaries: Volume Two Spotlight Information

Blackthorn Printing made a splash in the publishing world with the introduction of Dark Tales Diaries, yet despite his efforts, Tristan Blackthorn isn’t any closer to finding the woman he seeks. Unwilling to give up on his lost love, his search for Keira continues in Volume Two.

A voyeuristic moment leads an astronomy professor and his assistant to a steamy endeavor on The Observation Deck.

An invitation for cocktails has the reclusive woman who lives in 204-B pondering why the handsome, wealthy owner of her building would invite her to anything. Does she have enough guts to go to The Top Floor?

And a Maestro strikes the right cord with a young and talented cellist who is trying to find her passion.



Be Warned: voyeurism, bondage, spanking, sex toys, anal sex

Excerpt:

     “Come on, Tristan,” Keira said, giggling playfully as she shut her diary.

     “What new story have you added? One of love? Intrigue? A tale of the forbidden?” I inquired while eyeing the leather bound book.

     Keira laid it aside, and rose to her feet. “I’ll read them to you, someday.”

     She slipped out of her white cotton dress, leaving her sandals in the wake of snow-colored material at my feet. I leaned my back against the trunk of the tree, pretending to rest, but in truth, rest was the furthest thing from my mind.

     Keira twirled on the ball of her foot, more graceful than any dancer.

     “Do that again,” I said.

     The sun broke through the leaves on the trees, and set her long raven tresses into brilliant highlights that shimmered in deepened shades of blue-black. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She alone encapsulated perfection, with her small, pert breasts slightly covered by her long hair, and when she moved, the gumdrop point of a pale-pink nipple peeked through some of the strands. She raised her arms above her head, giving me a full view of her extended frame, and did something of a provocative pirouette before turning to face the pond.

     Her slender waist gave way to rounded hips that swayed seductively as she tiptoed, nude, toward the edge of the water. She stuck one toe in, and looked at me over her slender shoulder. Her jewel-green eyes penetrated my soul.

      Keira twisted her long hair up, and used the dark pieces that fell from her fingers to weave her tresses into a tied-off knot, freeing the canvas of her back. The dappled shade that fell from one of the overhanging branches caressed the curve of her spine like a long lost lover, and in that instant I wanted to kiss the dimples above her heart-shaped ass. The thought stirred up something much more primal.

     “Are you coming?” she asked.

     When Keira licked the plumpness of her lips, my cock ached for her.

     “Definitely,” I said, and stood from my shaded spot under the oak, toeing off my shoes in a hurry, before ridding myself of my shirt and pants.

     Once free of my clothing, I bounded toward her. She grinned and jumped before my hand made contact with her arm. I wasted no time, and followed in behind her. Our heads popped to the surface in unison, with her joyous laughter filling the air.

     “I bet you can’t catch me,” she taunted in a cutesy voice before diving beneath the murky pool.

     I studied the trail of bubbles and waves she made, guessing where she might come up, then made my way onto the grassy bank, crossed over the plank bridge, and hopped into the water off the south bank. When she resurfaced, I snatched her up.

     “Got you,” I said, and placed a kiss to her lips.

     She wiggled. Her moist mouth left mine. “No fair, Tristan. You were supposed to swim and catch me, not cheat, and wait until I ran out of air.”

     “You never outlined the rules. And besides, I play to win.”

     Keira, shook her head. Water rolled along her nose, over her parted lips, and down her chin before the wandering drop found its home in the pond.

     “I know you do,” she said, rubbing her nose against mine. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”  

     “What else do you love about me?”

     “I’m not telling.”

     I placed my lips to her tempting neck, traced a line with the tip of my nose to the end of her ear, and sucked her lobe into my mouth. “What if I persuade you to tell me?”

    She moaned my name, and draped her arms around my neck. “Don’t stop doing that, and I might be persuaded.”

     Keira wrapped her long legs around my waist. The head of my hard cock slipped between our two intertwined bodies. She pressed herself against me, tighter. Warmth worked its way through my essence as I slid my manhood in-between her parted lower lips. I wanted to explore all of her with my hands, my dick, and my mouth. One hand remained on the back of her slim neck while the other left her lower back to discover the wonder of her ass. Flames, not water lapped at my skin with a desire beyond words.

Buy Links for Dark Tales Diaries 2:



You can find out more about London here:
Twitter: @LSJRomance



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