Fluffers and Fillies #SexySnippets

Welcome to another Sunday of Sexy Snippets. This week, my seven come from the opening of my story for the Goodreads M/M Romance group's annual Dear Author event, Love Has No Boundaries. If you're unfamiliar with the event, readers write prompts for the stories they'd like to read. Authors then choose their prompt and have two months to knock out a story. If you're interested in joining the group, the largest active group on Goodreads and completely devoted to discussions of M/M romance, you can request to join here. 

It would seem all roads lead to Carmine House, the setting from  Forceful Negotiations, my latest release, since two supporting character from that book, Manny "Curt' Curtis and Joseph Gilante, become the main characters in Our Piece of Sky. The main characters from Forceful Negotiations and Breaking Glass, the Carmine Club prequel, Teague Tillis, Cameron Calloway, Jillian and Dylan Carmichael, and Wentworth Morgan show up as supporting characters in this story.

What? I always said it was a small town. <grin> Getting smaller every day.

For more about what goes on at Carmine House, click here.

I left Carmine House as I always do, by the back door. Also par for the course, I was seven hundred and fifty dollars richer and in awe of the lengths people will go to in order to satisfy their need for kink.

If I had to describe the job I perform for Willa Seachrist, I’d have to say it’s a cross between a fluffer and a body guard. You heard me right. Fluffer, as in the task performed on behalf of the porn industry—getting dicks hard for the camera. Although, there’s no dick-sucking at Carmine House.

Not by us anyway; we 'escorts' as Willa calls us, just get her little fillies wet and ready to be fucked.

Be sure to read the sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or Facebook. Thanks for dropping in. Have a great week!

What's better than a Hot Man and a Quickie? Two Quickies!

The hot man:

Quickie #1:

Last week, romance cover model and body-builder  John Quinlan swept...ah, heck, he tells it better than I.

(Excerpted from his Facebook post)

"I WOULD LIKE TO THANK GOD FOR ALLOWING ME TO SWEEP ALL 3 MEN’S PHYSIQUE CLASSES…..WINNING THE OPEN MEN’S PHYSIQUE CLASS, THE MASTER’S MEN’S PHYSIQUE CLASS AND THE OVERALL MEN’S PHYSIQUE CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE LAST NIGHT AT THE 2013 NPC Vermont Championships April 27th. 
...
I felt in my heart there was something special about it. It was exactly 1 month to the day my grandfather died. He was like my father. One month to the day I was at his bedside as the very last person to tell him how much he was loved before God called him home. I told people if I won my class I would dedicate it to him but to win all 3 classes and take the Overall Men’s Physique Championship it was like something out of a movie. I told people if won the overall title I would get emotional. It didn't happen on stage but I did speak after the event on camera and I thanked a few special people about my win. I did get very emotional on film when I said that I dedicate this night, “to the greatest man I have ever known…..my grandfather, Bill Hafner.”
Way to get it done, John. Congratulations. I'm certain your grandfather is proud. 

YouTube video of John, made immediately after his incredible win. Yes, he chokes up, but that's what is so special about this man. He's the real deal. See for yourself.

Quickie #2: (excerpted from Kink and Ink, Carmine Club No. 2)

A loud crash startled Eros awake. He pried open one eyelid. A shard of light stabbed him for his trouble. His head throbbed and his tongue felt welded to the roof of his mouth. “Well, I see you've made yourself at home.”

 Trying to lift his hand to ward off the glare, he winced, more from his recognition of Willa’s voice than pain. “What are you?” his new assignment demanded, stalking to his bedside. At least her body blocked the light.

“I told you,” he managed to groan. “I’m Eros.”

Her fingers were unforgiving. She poked the wounds on his bare back. “I knew I hit you. Why aren't you dead?”

“Zeus’s balls, woman. That hurts!” Driving his elbow into her hip made her relent. She took a half-step back. Rolling to his back with a grunt, he glared up at her, trying to rub sleep from his eyes with his uninjured hand. “Immortal. Look it up.” His mouth felt like it was lined with fur.

Spinning, she stalked to the dresser. Alarm drove him to hoist his aching human body upright when she picked up his quiver. Sliding one shaft free of the sheath, she twisted the golden object between her fingers. Turning her head slowly, she narrowed her eyes. The look made him freeze. “These feathers better not have come from my peacocks.”

“The little bastards shed them everywhere." He winced when his sore back touched the headboard. His chest felt like he’d been hit by a space shuttle. Pain sparkled like space debris behind his sore ribs.

Shoving the arrow back into the holder, she discarded the leather pouch. “Okay, I don’t know who the hell you are, but my daddy taught me the best place for an enemy is by your side. So until I figure out what the hell you’re up to, I’m gonna give you that job you asked for. Be at the main house by ten. I've ordered new uniforms for the staff. The tailor will be here then for your fitting.” Slitting her eyes again, she returned to stand beside the bed. Eros had the fleeting thought he might take Willa in a battle with Ishmael. “I refuse to call you Eros. And, immortal or not, if you ever aim one of those arrows at me, I will find a way to kill you.” Her lacquered lips curved. “Painfully.”

“We’re on the same side, I swear,” he croaked. Ignoring him, she plucked the wallet Peter had given him off the nightstand. Slick packets of popcorn slid helter-skelter across the dusty surface.

“After your fitting, stop by my office. I need you to fill out an application. No doubt, this ID is fake, but so help me, I will figure out who you are. Until then, congratulations, Yeoman Summers. You’re the new butler at Carmine House.”

“What’s a butler?”

“Basically, you fetch anything Becca, Jane, or I send you to get.”

He snorted. “Sounds to me like you need a beagle.”

“Do you mind coverin’ yourself while I’m in the room?”

Glancing down, he saw the sheet had slipped to his thighs. “Amazing. You’ll put women in handcuffs on luggage carts and pay young men to spank them before you sell them to the highest bidder, but you go all shy at the sight of one not-so-little cock?”

Thanks for dropping in! Have a great week. Don't forget to go by one of John's hangouts and congratulate him:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/
http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

Sexy Snippets ~ Is a Virgin Masterminding Carmine Club?

Happy Sunday. these seven are from Forceful Negotiations, in a scene between two secondary characters who will no doubt get their own story very soon. 

Being alone with him made her nervous, Zach knew. He caught her staring at him all the time, but when he flirted with her the least bit, she blushed and high-tailed it to the closest exit. The woman studies sex, for fuck’s sake. Her contradictory behavior made him suspicious. Willa was the face and driving personality behind the club, but Zach was almost certain Jane was the club’s architect. If a virgin was in charge, making decisions based on only what she read in her textbooks, he wanted to know now, so he could talk Willa into stopping the auctions before anyone got hurt. A career spent defending accused criminals taught him everyone was hiding something.

Read sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or Facebook. Thanks for dropping in. Have a great week! 

The Magic Touch Giveaway Hop

Hello, and welcome to my stop on the Magic Touch Giveaway Hop.



I confess, I always wanted a magic wand. Car trouble? Poof! On the road again. Noisy neighbor? Shazaam! Duct tape applied. Evil mother-in-law? Kapow! Now your father-in-law has a pet frog and he owes you big time.

Alas, I have no power over frogs, transmissions, or duct tape. The closest I'll ever get to magical powers is writing about them. I decided to write about the magic contained in a certain set of golden, lust-inducing arrows in my (mildly) paranormal/contemporary erotic romance series, Carmine Club. Some of the characters get a little help from Eros, the Greek god of love, The first story, Forceful Negotiations, is due to be released April 25.

Meanwhile, allow me to wave my not-so-magical wand and make everyone who joins my blog or Facebook author page into a winner! Simply join either the blog or my Facebook page, then leave me a comment telling me which format you'd prefer (.mobi, .epub, or .pdf available) and your e-mail address. I'd be delighted to send you a copy of the lead-in story to the series, Breaking Glass, where we first meet Eros. No drawing, no waiting, no checking back to see who the winner is. Easy as abracadabra!

(excerpt from Forceful Negotiations. All rights reserved.)

Drunk on the luscious perfume of lust, Eros danced down the aisle between the males and the gorgeous women offering themselves as slaves to desire. Tears of joy rolled down his cheeks.  Pumping his fist, he turned in a circle, tearing his gaze away from the females to look up. He wished he had his wings so he could hover beside the ornate cornice molding and see everything. This beautiful room seemed a fit temple to worship the pleasures of the flesh. Wiggling his butt, he leaned over to smile into the upturned face of one lovely maiden, admiring the soft curve of her belly and the way her nipples thrust forward.

Kicking his heels together, he made his way along the row of carts, pausing before each woman to inhale deeply. Desire was such an intoxicating scent. How beautiful they were, each breath making their breasts dance to tempt the males, each soft moan inflaming the men’s desires.

He and Willa were going to get along just fine, he was sure. When the humans were sated and sleeping, he’d pick out his abode. He could scarcely believe his luck. He wouldn’t need his bow. These humans were primed and ready. His head began to spin. Eros could drink for days and only get his tongue wet, but a good gust of lust made him drunker than a sailor on shore leave.

He worked his way down the row, shaking his hips in glee, stopping to smooth a curl here, or run his thumb across a lower lip there. He reached the last cart, giving Teague Tillis an admiring once-over. Peter had sent him to help a friend of hers find his way back to his true love not long ago. An accidental brush of his wings against the artist that day had told Eros what she desired and he hadn’t forgotten the experience. He would’ve traded a precious arrow for just a single feather to slip between her thighs or along her cheek, so he might feel what she felt at this moment. Leaning close enough to kiss her lips, he whispered, “They all look strong and virile, my dear. And you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

Selling herself for desire’s sake seemed noble and brave to Eros.

If you're a glutton for my brand of magic, I'm writing a novel on the blog, with a new chapter posted weekly, on Mondays  Not a bad way to put off the reality of your workweek for just a few minutes longer. You can read the intro and first four chapters here.  The story is based on my belief there should be a downside to having magical powers, to make up to the universe for circumventing the natural order of things. In Guarding the Line, every time magic is used by the race known as the adorii, an unsuspecting human pays the price. 
 As part of the Magic Touch Hop, we are giving away envelopes of swag to the first 100 participants who sign up. No requirements other than filling out the form you can find via this link. Each envelope will be different and filled with random goodies. http://blog.kallysten.net/2013/04/magic-touch-swag-bonanza_19.html


Click the Linky image blow, and presto! You'll be taken to the list of participating blogs, where in addition to the swag giveaway, you have a chance to win on 52 different blogs . Now, that's magical :)

Thanks for stopping by!

A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ Failure to Satisfy the Fantasy? Carmine Club Has a Plan for That.

The Hot Man: 

Romance cover model John Quinlan generously shared a couple of shots
from his bare-it-all photo shoot.
You just wanna reach out and pat that butt, dont'cha?
You can find John in the following places:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/
http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan
Pinterest board featuring John and his romance covers: http://pinterest.com/taabia/model-john-quinlan/

The quickie:

This week's excerpt  comes from Forceful Negotiations, which I'm pleased to say should be released on Monday. 

When it was his turn, Cam leaned forward to peer into the opening before releasing his marker. The box stood about six inches tall, but there seemed to be a floor at the halfway point. When Stephens, who was last on the right, added his ball, Willa capped the box and reached for the crank. Three times she turned the cast iron handle, then paused. Feet scuffed impatiently against the white-enameled boards under their feet. “Good luck, gentlemen. Should the winner require a second or third, please make your selections from the men around you. And of course,”—Willa stared directly at Cam—“in the unlikely event the winner fails to satisfy the fantasy, the remaining five will drop their markers again.”

Cam glanced right and left at the faces of his competition, wondering what the hell the woman meant by a second or third? Then the answer hit him. Some of these women want to be with more than one man at a time. Like there was a snowball’s chance in hell he’d fuck a woman with Jordan Stephens? Even worse, what if he failed to satisfy the fantasy? This group would know immediately. How long before every man here knew? He felt a rivulet of sweat trickle down the side of his face. Cam began to hope his ball didn't drop. Not knowing what fantasy he might have to provide seemed diabolical.

            Jesus jumped-up pretty boy Christ. Did he know the first damn thing about women, or did Willa just cater to freaks? 

Thanks for dropping in! Have a great week.

Sexy Snippets ~ Handcuffed to...What?

Welcome to Sexy Snippets...seven consecutive sentences from a work in progress. I've selected seven from my next release, Forceful Negotiations. Teague Tillis has accepted her friend's invitation to join Carmine Club, but she's stunned to learn from Willa Seachrist, the club's owner, the extent of what she's agreed to do:

"We want them feeling manly and confident; competitive. Think of the auction as sexual theater, designed to provoke those feelings.”

Teague thought Willa’s near-whisper a ploy to be sure the woman had her attention. She resented the tactic even as she strained to make out every word. “We need their testosterone pumping. The auction sets that up nicely. You’ll strip and be handcuffed to one of our luggage carts.”




Read sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or Facebook.

I'm delighted to have found a replacement or Six Sentence Sunday, so look for me to be a regular participant. Have a great week!

A Hot man and a Quickie ~ Cuffed and Ready

The hot man:

Around here, the hot man is romance cover model and body builder John Quinlan. When John mentioned recently he had a new shoot lined up, I begged for images of him in a suit. You can thank me later. After you sit here and stare at this image, knowing what lurks beneath.

John is such a down-to-earth, nice guy, and he loves to talk with his fans. If he weren't a damn Red Sox fan, he might be just about perfect. Connect with John here:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

Pinterest board featuring John and his romance covers: http://pinterest.com/taabia/model-john-quinlan/

The quickie: (Excerpt from Forceful Negotiations, Carmine Club No. 01)

Scott gripped Cam’s elbow, walking him past their hostess. “The auction’s very simple, really.” The other man gestured toward the long room and stepped back. Cam’s eyes widened. The brass luggage carts seen dotting the property during his arrival had been pressed into double duty. They were large carts, with thick brass rods about five and a half feet tall at each corner,  curving to intersect over the center. A nude woman knelt on the red carpet lining the base of each wheeled stand. Their arms were raised above their heads, wrists clasped by silver metal handcuffs. The chains connecting those unyielding bracelets were wrapped around the ball-shaped finial jutting from the top of each cart. The polished chrome shackles glittered like diamonds against the mellow brass. Some women tugged at their bonds. Others merely bowed their heads.

“You were given a marker, right?” From the hint of peevishness in his boss’s tone, Cam was certain Scott had had to repeat his question.

Slipping his hand into his trouser pocket, Cam fingered the big red marble embellished with his name in gold, much like a personalized golf ball. “Yes.” Surveying the line of naked breasts, Cam mentally recited the amount he could afford to bid. There were only thirteen women. Would three grand be enough? He could manage four, even five grand, he supposed, but going into debt for pussy would derail his plan to buy a building in the new city and renovate it into condos. Not to mention, this was a recurring expense.

The row of masked eyes and out thrust nipples made it hard to think about mundane things like real estate. Every size and color of nipple, from large and brown to small and pink stared back at him, their shapes emphasized by the stark walls. Each hard peak stood erect, begging to be touched. The masks and the women’s bare skin were the only color in the all-white room, save for the carts and a few sinuous, gilded mirror frames. Behind Willa, a pier mirror stretched almost to a ceiling he calculated to be sixteen feet. Positioned at the end of the spacious room, the glass reflected a stunning row of curvy bottoms above folded legs. A gust of arousal made his head swim.

If all goes well, Forceful Negotiations will be available next Saturday. Thanks for dropping in, and have a great week!

A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ Too Bad It Wasn't His C*ck

The hot man: 

Nice view isn't it? You're welcome. <grin>

Places to stalk romance cover model John Quinlan:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

The quickie: (excerpt from CC #2, untitled)

His wife had perfect lips. They’d never looked better than they did at this moment, rounded into a perfect oval as she climaxed. Her swaying breasts were perfect as well, their motion reflecting the rhythm of the hard cock pistoning into her.

Too bad it wasn't his cock, but those were his lips, his breasts, and for that matter, his nose. J.J. Winters leaned against the opened door frame, waiting for Mallory to notice him. Shouldn't be long now. Her young stud was starting to grunt and groan and he’d lost his smooth stroke.

J.J. tried to care. He figured he should feel a lot of things he no longer felt, and not just about his wayward wife. The gleaming brass headboard called up a long-buried memory of his older brother’s sports trophies, the ones his mother displayed on her mantelpiece, pointing them out to any visitor unfortunate enough to darken the door of her south Boston home.

He was a long way from Boston. A long way from the pimple-faced, painfully shy bookworm his mother mostly ignored. He no longer had acne and he’d lost the frail physique that had kept him on the sidelines while his brother lettered in three sports.

His brother was a pipe fitter and lived about four blocks from their mother, while J.J. was a plastic surgeon with a surgical suite adjacent to Emory University Hospital. Apparently, his accomplishments weren't enough for Mallory. 

*~*~*~*~*

News:
Not only will Breaking Glass be available tomorrow on Amazon, but I finally have the rights to the De Marco series back, so here's a peek at the new covers.

Thanks for dropping in. Have a great week!  

A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ 'Baseball' Means 'No'?

The hot man:

While I do enjoy a good game of football, I'd love to persuade gorgeous romance cover model John Quinlan to pick up a baseball bat for his next shoot. Perhaps that's because I have baseball on the brain right now. Come on, Opening Day! 

Places to stalk John:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

Baseball  made an appearance in my excerpt today,too:

The quickie: (excerpt from Forceful Negotiations, Carmine Club V.1)

What's that? Oh, yeah, I did change this cover again.  (blush) This is the final version, pinkie swear. 

Jane merely smiled and pressed her palms to her knees, locking her elbows. “You understand this is role play, Cameron?”

“I understand no means no.” The frost in his tone should have painted her office walls whiter than that damn ballroom. He stared over her shoulder, refusing to look at the woman, though he felt her scrutiny. Instead, he looked at the neat row of her diplomas, framed in black. The wall behind them was painted dark beige or light brown. He couldn't decide what to call the color. He did know what to call the obscenity written on the paper she wouldn't take from him. Rape. How many times had he promised a jury no woman had ever asked to be raped?

“In this case, ‘baseball’ means ‘no’.” Jane’s statement sounded so ludicrous, he turned to look at her. “That’s her safe word, the word that causes all activity to cease immediately, no matter what may be happening. She wants this, Cameron. It’s her fantasy.” Jane leaned forward so abruptly her glasses slipped down her nose. She laid her hand on his knee. “Cam, you went into that ballroom. You picked her. You touched her, maybe even intimately. A connection was formed. Despite the titillating idea of illicit sex, what happens here is quite different. These women bare themselves so they can get some sexual healing.”

Looking away from her beseeching eyes, Cam narrowed his gaze on the row of diplomas again. “Then she needs a shrink.”

“No, what she needs is for you to get in touch with that man you've muted, the less civilized one lurking inside.” 

Her voice. Dear God, Aphrodite’s voice came from the throat of this plain woman. It was like audible sex. He didn't want to listen, but her words seemed to penetrate his brain.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Speaking of baseball, starting April 1, I'll be writing a novel in

 weekly installments, right here on my blog. Guarding the Line 

is a paranormal baseball romance. How's that for genre-

bending? You can read the premise here. 

Thanks for dropping in! See you next week, when hopefully, I'll

 be announcing the release of Breaking Glass.

A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ How Do You Ask For A Menage, Anyway?

The hot man:

Enjoy the weekly peek at romance cover model John Quinlan.  Something about that unbuttoned white dress shirt just does it for me. How about you?

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

The Quickie:

...is from the Carmine Club prequel, Breaking Glass, which now has a cover and is off to the editor. 

"I don't know what else to say, but I've gotta get Jill back. I've thought about this all night. I'm not insecure about much, but Jillian's my world." Dylan swiped at his face again and raked his nails along his jaw. “If she needs this…. Will you help me give Jill her fantasy?”

“My turn?” Went sat up and unlaced his fingers. Dylan nodded, a difficult feat because his heart was wedged in his throat. Dropping his hands to the edge of his desk, Went drummed his index fingers momentarily. "This won’t come as any big shock to you, but the idea of saying ‘I love you’ to a woman scares the ever-lovin’ hell outta me. I don’t have time to make partner and cure my fear of intimacy. But that night at the festival, when I walked up on you with Jill and she said ‘I want him too’, it hit me how perfect that could be." Swiping at a speck of dust Dylan couldn't see, he added, "You've known me since we were twelve, dude. I'm the last man on Earth you'd need to worry about taking your woman. But…."

Dylan only stared across the desk. Was Went saying ‘yes’, or leading up to ‘hell, no’? His heart stuttered. The rest of his plans hinged on his friend’s agreement. Finding another man was out of the question. Teague had been right. Went was the only man he’d trust. Jill wouldn't believe words, not after last night, but if he could prove—

"But goddammit, I'm sick of serial fucking. It just seemed like… like she wanted it… the three of us… that might be an outside-the-box solution." Shifting in his seat, Went looked about as miserable as Dylan had felt until sometime around sunrise, when he stepped outside to stretch his legs and realized he could fix everything. All he had to do was break something first—tradition. "That’s why I kissed her. But if it wasn't something you were into…. That’s what I shouldn't have to tell you. I’d never lay a hand on her without y—"

Dylan held up a hand. He’d known that all along. During the dark, silent days last August, when Jill asked for a spot to put up a studio just before they split up, he showed her several of his properties, but quoted a monthly price for the building next door at less than half the mortgage payment, to see if the pair hooked up. Joe was right; Jill and Went hadn't so much as gotten donuts and coffee together. He’d have heard about it if they had. "I'm sure I love her. I'm sure she wants the two of us at once. I don’t think I'll get her back any other way." Dylan lowered his eyes to the carpet and dragged his nails along the worn seams of his work jeans. "I couldn't say this to anyone but you. We've been friends since the sixth grade, but hell, all I could think was, what if she likes your equipment better than mine?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

 I'll be posting a weekly chapter of a new story every week, starting April 1. Read the blurb for Guarding the Line here. 

Thanks for dropping in. Have a great week! 

A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ Golf Isn't the Game Played at Carmine Club

It's been a busy week for me. Edits came back for Forceful Negotiations, I'm putting the finishing touches on Always Kiss Me Last, and in my spare time I worked on a blog makeover and designed a new logo. 

Speaking of graphics, I have no idea how many covers I've made for this series, but the image on the left-hand side is the final cover art. Yes, I know what you're thinking, "Another 'final' one, Eden?" but it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind and this time, I'm seriously done.

The Hot Man:

I'm almost certain I'll be using this shot of model John Quinlan for the cover of the third Carmine Club story. You may stalk John at the following locations:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

The Quickie:  (excerpt from Carmine Club No. 01, Forceful Negotiations)

Why do women want men who aren’t capable of love?

Never again, Cam vowed, staring at the litter of makeup pots and pencils, old photos of people he didn’t know, half-filled perfume bottles, and romance novels. No more women who can’t acknowledge their own worth. The next time he met a woman who needed saving he was gonna leave to slay her own dragons and run like hell in the opposite direction. Squatting, he picked up a pot of something pink, turning it in his fingers. Compliments, flowers, helping her polish her resume to look for a better job, all the time spent trying to boost Anna’s self-confidence was like the makeup. The effect came off the next time she showered.

Tossing bits of Anna into a garbage bag, Cam knew the echo in his heart meant little. They’d been done for over a year. His thoughts veered to the coming weekend. His boss had extended an invitation to join his club. A southern gentleman and native of Savannah, Scott always couched his orders as invitations. Dreading endless weekend rounds of golf, Cam had been delighted to learn the place wasn’t the country club he’d expected. He turned Scott’s explanation over in his mind.

Carmine Club caters to the sexual fantasies of women, Cameron. The ultimate high any man can achieve is gratifyin’ a woman sexual desires, whatever they may be. Knowing you can satisfy any woman, anytime, anywhere, no matter what she needs, is a power trip unlike any other. It’s not that hard for us to get off, but women… ah, they’re marvelously complex little things. I believe any man who knows he can do that will exhibit that confidence in his day-to-day tasks. This club provides the ideal place for learning what makes women tick. And if you can understand women, you can understand any damn thing. Gentlemen elected to join this exclusive fraternity are honor-bound to make the ladies’ fantasies come true, without judgment.

Despite his vow, a sexual suit of armor sounded intriguing. Cam’s footsteps echoed in the empty apartment, their sound muted when he stepped into the carpeted hall. Yanking open the discrete door at the end of the corridor, he dropped her things down the garbage chute, letting what remained of his feelings for her follow. Tugging up his sweater sleeve, he ripped off the cotton ball taped to the inside of his elbow and tossed it, too.

A fraternity of men honor-bound to make any sexual fantasy come true. Carmine Club sounded a helluva lot better than any golf club.

Thanks for dropping by. Have a great week! 

A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ Polishing Eve's Pomegranites

Wow, Saturday already. Time for a hot man and a quickie. 

The hot man, 
as always, is romance cover model John Quinlan.

Do take that shirt off, John. It's summer somewhere.

Places to stalk John:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

The quickie. 

I figured it's time y'all met Eros, the uninvited paranormal guest who's hiding from the mighty warrior angel Ishmael the Lessor at Carmine House, much to Willa's chagrin. 

(unedited excerpt from Carmine Club's free prequel ~ Breaking Glass)

"You have been summoned." Ishmael pointed his sword at Eros, sounding all bad-ass.

"Cool, there’s an orgy?" He took pleasure from the tight lines appearing around the angel’s mouth. "I’m so there."

"Hardly. The Judicious One requires your presence. Leave the toy bow and arrow here. No more of your accidents." The angel glared down his nose.

One accident, Eros ruffled his feathers. Just one little accident. His fingers twitched on the taut string he’d just installed on his bow. Not for the first time, he contemplated shooting an arrow at the chaste angel. What fun it would be to watch the smug bastard driven insane by a lust he wasn’t allowed to enjoy, but he'd never quite worked out what the consequences of that act might be.

 The bastard had a memory longer than his wings. Millenniums had passed since the day they'd all visited to Earth to admire One’s new Garden. Eros's arrow had missed the juicy red fruit he’d been aiming for, striking Eve. He was almost positive Ishmael used his massive wings to create the naughty wind spoiling his perfect aim that fateful day. Ishmael never missed a chance to rub Eros's nose in the fact he'd set the downfall of mankind in motion. Seriously, to hear the angel talk, you’d think the Serpent had been an innocent earthworm, hanging about holding a hankie in case Eve needed her pomegranates polished.

Have a great week! Thanks for dropping by!

A Hot Man and a Quickie ~ Grandma Calls Her a Floozy

The hot man: 

I just woke and already, I have an urge to crawl back into bed. Romance cover model John Quinlan looks smokin' in this shot. Dress shirt unbuttoned. White sheets to show off that tan. (shivers). Enjoy!

Contact links for John:

http://irishjohnquinlan.blogspot.com/

http://www.johnquinlan.org/

http://twitter.com/johnjquinlan

Pinterest boards featuring John and his romance covers: http://pinterest.com/taabia/model-john-quinlan/
http://pinterest.com/mfrworg/john-quinlan-romance-cover-model/

The Quickie:

(From Kiss Me Last, Carmine Club prequel)

"My friend started throwin' these parties for women. They’re called CFNM parties. You ever heard of those?"

Dylan shook his head, trying to guess what the acronym stood for. He owned a real estate investment firm, but he loved nothing more than working with his hands. Joe pulled off his own real estate deals. Whatever he needed from Dylan had to be carpentry.

"Teague borrowed two, but I got three windows. I’ll give 'em all to you if you’ll work the Clothed Female, Naked Male party tonight."

Three was the perfect number. With three, he could put them in the— Joe's words registered. Dylan choked on his coffee. 

"Basically, you strip down to your skivvies and waltz around the room. You can’t touch the women, but they can touch you any way they’d like." Dylan gaped. Joe shrugged, grinning like a tabby cat on a tuna boat. "After a few minutes of fondling, they cuff you to a chair or to another guy. The women form two teams. The winning team is the one that makes their guy come first. All my windows are yours if you can hold out twenty minutes before you shoot." Joseph grinned. "Just wear that suit. They'll give you a mask and sexy underwear, but your cock’s gonna be bare."

Dylan blinked, imagining strange women stroking his cock. At a party.

Jillian would love a party like that. The memory of Jill's scornful tone when she'd called him 'boring' made him wince. It wasn’t boring to be discrete. Dylan's almost-ex wife was what his grandmother called a floozy.

Thanks for droppin' in. Have a great week! (Giveaway happenin' through 2/11 one post down! Let me buy you a book for reading another Carmine Club excerpt.)