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Saturday, October 31, 2009

Forever Yours by Charisma Knight

As I walked along the path within the woods, I slowly began to lose my train of thought. I was so sure I’d be able to find my way back to the cabin after a few hours at the lake. As time’s pace quickened, darkness fell upon the woods with a mighty vengeance.

A fine mist accompanied the pitch black of the evening, providing me with a sense of security. Somehow I knew I wasn't the only soul dwelling within these woods. Shivering, I felt eyes upon me. Surprisingly, each time I turned around no one was there.

The mist surrounded me, sending erotic sensations throughout my body. My brain told me I should continue searching for the cabin, but my body betrayed me, telling me to submit to the sweet subtle attack of the mist.

Obeying my body, I leaned against a tree and surrendered completely to the familiar mist. Invisible hands caressed my face, lingered at my neck, and eventually explored the parts of me which required the most attention. My breasts tingled with excitement as my nipples painfully strained against the lacy material of my bra; a result of the invisible fingers skillfully manipulating them.

To my surprise, the soft, gentle hands began to solidify, and I could see an outline of a man. His hands lowered, caressed my ass cheeks, and eventually slid to the front, unzipping my shorts. A moan escaped my lips as his hands slid beneath the denim, slowly examining my slick folds.

A handsome dark-haired man with icy blue eyes stood before me in place of the mist and parted my lips with his sweet tongue. Prying his mouth from mine, he stared within the depths of my soul. Skillfully, he inserted not one, not two, but three fingers within me, forcing an animalistic cry from my lips. I’m lost within those familiar blue icy depths and fascinated by the handsome features of his pale face. His blood-red lips formed into a smile, displaying a beautiful set of incisors. I should have been scared, however, I was not.

His voice was like sweet music to my ears, as he told me we weren't far from my cabin. I was not at all shocked when my name rolled from his inviting lips.

“Natasha,” my dark lover murmured.

I asked how he knew my name, but he simply replied, “I have always known you my sweet; I’ve known you for centuries. My name is Navarre.”

Suddenly, we were in the cabin, underneath the crisp, cool sheets of my bed. My mind questioned the loss of clothes and the sudden change of location, but my body overrode my brain’s efforts to analyze such occurrences.

Slowly, Navarre rolled on top of me, gently pinning my wrists to the bed as his incisors grazed my neck. A low growl forming deep within his throat, he commenced to explore my body, paying close attention to my breasts. One hand continued pinning my wrists to the bed, while the other guided my breast to his lips, forcing me to offer all I had to give.

Beads of moisture formed upon my body as Navarre seductively slid his hands down the length of my body, lightly scratching my tender skin with his fingernails. Wet kisses fell upon my stomach, which seemed to leave an invisible trail of fire within their wake. Eventually, his tongue continued the journey towards my wet pussy.

Navarre continued torturing my feverish, wonton flesh as he flicked his tongue along my inner thighs, savoring the nectar flowing from my pussy. I thought I would die of immediate pleasure when he finally parted my lips, examining my slick flesh with intense eyes. Slowly, he tickled my swollen clitoris with his long tongue, eventually sucking it until I thought I would burst.

Rolling my head from side to side, I ran my fingers through his glossy black hair, spreading my legs further apart. I wanted him; I wanted him to devour me. Unfortunately, I knew I would never get enough of him. My cries of ecstasy echoed within the room as I watched Navarre slide his middle finger deep within my pussy as he mercilessly sucked my soft fleshy bud.

To my satisfaction, Navarre gently pinned my body upon the bed with his hard, muscular body. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him, locking my fingers in his hair as we kissed for what seemed like an eternity. His incisors nicked my tongue causing me to bleed and pushing Navarre into a feeding frenzy. His body trembled hard as he slipped his thick cock deep within my pussy, fighting the urge to consume me at the moment.

Nostrils flaring, Navarre thrust in and out of me, my liquid heat coating his cock, testing his willpower.

“I want to devour you.” Navarre growled holding his cock deep inside me, to the hilt, his beautiful blue eyes glowing with intense ferocity within the cabin’s dim lighting.

Pumping within me with a mighty force, Navarre rocked my body hard and fast. Each stroke he inflicted upon me left me trembling and weak. Growling loudly he nipped my neck with his incisors, sensing my rising orgasm, his release was not far behind mine.

My muscles contracting around Navarre’s cock caused me to scream in sweet agony as he continued pumping inside me, riding me to his own completion. The waves of pleasure rocked my body hard, as Navarre sunk his teeth deep into my neck. His handsome face was the last thing I saw as darkness slowly engulfed me.

I awoke to the brightness of the morning, and the chirping of the birds. Disappointment claimed me as I realized it was all just a dream. His voice echoed deep within my mind. No worries, my love, I will return to you twice more, making you mine forever.

The dull throbbing sensation upon my neck quickly captured my attention. Feeling two small punctures, a smile formed upon my lips, as I contemplated Navarre’s return.

About the author: Charisma Knight enjoys weaving tales of the paranormal, especially when they gravitate towards vampires. Writing erotic paranormal fiction allows her to add a touch of spice to her daily activities. She hopes she has successfully added a dash of erotic spice to your routine today. To learn more about Charisma, visit her blog at:

Author Interview: Summer Jordan

Whipped Cream is pleased to welcome Summer Jordan, who is passionate about writing and madly in love with her husband. They live in Florida where Summer can enjoy her love of sunshine and water, palm trees, and fragrant tropical flowers. Her newest release, Putting the SeX in Xmas, will be released on December 7 as one of the books in Total-E-Bound's Christmas Cracker Collection.

I asked her to tell us a little bit about Putting the SeX in Xmas.

Holidays are fun but orgasms are thrilling and Kati combines the two to give Andrew an X-rated holiday he won’t forget.

When Kati sets out to reproduce a British Christmas for Andrew, ‘traditional’ and ‘reserved’ don't stand a chance. As she injects her own take on things, the celebration turns into an X-rated Xmas that Andrew won’t forget.
Summer told me she feels the biggest misconception the public has about erotica is that it's porn. In her opinion, pornography is sex for sex' sake and is very graphic. Erotic romance encompasses lust and it's a love story. Summer's characters usually start out 'in lust' and 'love' grows out of their sexual relationship. She sees erotica as being somewhere in the middle.

"Romance is at the heart of these stories," Summer said. "Erotic elements are part of real life and they add the spice we all want."

When Summer's writing, she knows it's a good erotic story when she falls in love with her hero and she savors writing the hot scenes.

She grinned and said, "The sex scenes are longer and juicier and I'm squirming in my chair as I write. The heroine finds him irresistible and vice versa so they make like bunnies whenever and wherever they can."

Summer used to write non-erotic romance and found it more challenging to write than erotic romance. "There are so many different kinds of conflict needed," she explained. "The romantic and sexual tensions are built into erotic romance just waiting to be acted out and on."

She had never considered erotic romance, though, until she discovered Total-E-Bound.

"I realized what an up and coming company it was," she said. "The publisher, Claire, is wonderful to work with and the writers are a super bunch. Erotica has opened new doors for me and the genre is an exciting one that’s soared in popularity. Our society has become more sexual and this fits the times."

Only her husband knows she writes erotic romance, however. She laughed and told me that, unless it's sports or nonfiction, he doesn't read , and she doesn't believe the rest of her family is ready to know what she writes. She also doesn't tell her friends and acquaintances what she writes, because she doesn't want to be asked how she does her research.

"My husband wouldn’t appreciate a discussion of our bedtime adventures at cocktail parties," she told me. "My research comes from life experiences past and present and a lively imagination. But the best research for any genre is reading other writers’ work. Find out what kind of stories turn you on and what turns you off. Each of us has his or her own thresholds."

The same thing holds true with body piercings. Summer told me if she had to get a body part pierced, she would have a second piercing in her earlobe.

"Navels with diamonds are sexy on young women with flat tummies," she said. "I don’t care to think about having them in private places although it might be erotic! And pierced eyebrows, tongues, and lips are disgusting."

She finds fudge sauce wonderful for eating off another's tummy and said that whipped cream is good anywhere. Her favorite food, though, is lobster tail dipped in warm butter with a little lemon juice in it. And, she's a self-admitted "fiend for catsup," and she loves to eat it on macaroni and cheese. However, don't ask her to eat anchovies. That's about the only food she can't bring herself to eat.

"Can you tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi?" I asked.

"Absolutely," she replied. "I hate Pepsi. It’s too sweet. My husband drinks Diet Pepsi and I tell him it smells like bathroom deodorant."

Who would Summer be if she could be anyone she wanted?

"Who’s the most successful writer making big bucks and at the top of the bestseller list? Oh yes, and let’s make sure she’s beautiful and married to my husband."

And, she wants Julia Roberts to play her when Hollywood makes a movie of her life.

"She’s talented, beautiful, and has great hair," she explained. "Also, she plays a humorous part well. I like laughing and I especially loved her in Pretty Woman. And of course, she’s sexy."

Finally, I asked Summer what advice she would give to a writer who wanted to start writing erotica.

"Get used to using the graphic terms and exploring sexuality in a more adventurous way," she said. "In this interview, I hesitate to use words like fuck and pussy. It was hard for me to write them at first because those terms weren’t acceptable in the sweet romances I used to write. Now, I realize these words and the mental pictures and mood they create are turn-ons for those of us who used to consider them quite daring. And, most importantly, for any genre, write what you love and love what you write."

You can keep up with Summer on her website,

Friday, October 30, 2009

Friday Spotlight: Jeanne Barrack

I Do -- and I hope you do, too.

Do you support the right of any human being to marry the person they love? The right to say 'I Do' to a life of commitment and sharing with that one special person? I do. (Quote taken from blurb from I Do! -- an anthology in support of marriage equality published by: MLR Press, LLC)

I am very proud to be a part of the collection of twenty stories of "love and commitment" with my story "Finally, Forever". All proceeds of the sale of this book go to the Lambda Legal Fund's fight for marriage equality.

This will be the shortest essay because it actually is the most difficult one for me to write. I find that words fail me and so I am just going to share with you some links to articles, blogs, and news stories that I've come across to share why I feel so strongly about this cause. ~ Confusion, inconsistencies, ignorance and denial of same sex couples' rights to be with partners of many years at the end of life, need to be addressed. And this update, which still does not take responsibility. ~ A promise made. A promise broken. The 55 year partnership ~ and two month long marriage ~ between Phyllis Lyon and Del Martin. ~ Pictures and stories of hope and fulfillment. Please scroll down and check out and read about these couples and supporters of marriage equality

and last ~ Lambda Legal Fund. It's not only about marriage equality, but many issues.

So, I began this week with HEA endings and end with the wish for HEA endings for everyone.

Thank you for sharing this week with me.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Thursday Spotlight: Jeanne Barrack

I Believe in Music

The next line from this country song goes -- I believe in love, and as a romance writer, I'd better believe in love. But as a music therapist and performer, I believe that music inspires and can and does impact on people in more than just the obvious, 'oh, that's a sad song' way. I've seen positive physiological changes and improvement in the quality of life in every age group.

I don't play music when I write. I can't listen to a song or even instrumental piece without being distracted. When I hear music I hear stories -- even "long-haired" music as they call it. And forget about songs with lyrics or incidental music to movies or musicals where the composer actively sets out to create a specific image in your mind. If I'm writing a story set during the American Civil War the last thing I need to hear is music from "Wicked" playing.

But what I often do is set up a playlist beforehand and take note of music when I'm not writing and track down the song and/or artist.

Two of my stories were taken directly from specific songs. I mentioned one earlier (A Song of the Sidhe) but there's one story that owes everything to Country & Western music, from the title, to the name of the strip joint, to different scenes in the book, to character sketches. The list of songs can be found at this link:

No One Else on Earth was originally going to be called "A Real Bad Boy" from a line in the country song "Real Good Man" sung by Tim McGraw. As soon as I heard him sing this tune, I saw the scene in my head: A line of buff cowboys dressed in chaps doing the boot scoot boogie on stage to the music and then ripping off their chaps. Instead of I wound up using the song "No One Else on Earth" whose lyrics are just incredible and describe the heroine's feelings perfectly. I did call the strip club, "Real Bad Boys". It was just too perfect a name for a place like that.

Music is used throughout the book to evoke the feelings of several of the characters.

Here's the blurb:

Julie Turner returns to the quiet town of Greenrock, PA, to open a male stripping club with her three best friends and as part of the opening, they’re running a contest to find the best strippers.

The club is also being used as the base of operations by two very different males. Mike Winstead, is a Tracer, a hunter from another world chasing after an alien sexual predator who’s come to Greenrock. And Tzahyad, the predator,is a shape shifting, vampire-like alien who drains his victims of their sexual energy.

Two men want Julie - one for love, one for seduction; one for life and one for death. Choosing the right man has never been quite so crucial.

And I know you're dying for an excerpt featuring some of the guys from the club being 'real bad boys'.


Julie dawdled by the CD player as long as she could after she’d tweaked the sticky volume control.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

Sex. Glorious, hot, sticky, down and dirty, pure sex. Well, maybe not so pure. A shiver of remembrance ran through her.

What had she done? But how could she have refused? What woman in her right mind could have refused being made love to by the man of her dreams?

Okay. One of the men of her dreams. Would her other lover come calling?

If he did, could she let him make love to her now that she’d had the most mind-blowing sex of her, to be honest, limited real life experience?

The answer was simple. In a New York minute!

She stared into space, reliving her earlier sexual encounter in the office. A sappy smile appeared on her face.

“Excuse me, Julie? Here’s my CD. When the spotlight goes on that’s the signal to play it.”

She started. Speak of the devil. One of her fantasy twosome had just interrupted a replay of his star performance.

“Sorry. Lot on my mind. Go ahead. I’ll be ready.”

The stage lights dimmed. A blue light washed over the empty platform. And Julie started the music.

The haunting strains of “The Music of the Night” from The Phantom of the Opera filled the air.

As though he’d appeared out of nowhere, her dream lover glided into the light. His mask covered half his face in his persona as the Phantom. He sported a long, black cape lined with crimson satin. A snowy white frilled dress shirt, black bow tie and tuxedo jacket, peeked from beneath the cape’s concealing folds. A blood red, satin cummerbund wrapped around his trim waist.

He wore only a miniscule, black satin jock below that. His bulging penis set off lascivious comments from several of the other performers.

“Christ, wouldn’t you like to peel off that piece of material and sample what’s underneath?”

“Please don’t tell me he’s straight. I want to take him home to meet my mother.”

“Straight. Queer. Who cares? Give me some time with him; I’ll unmask him.”

Julie blotted out the raunchy remarks she heard.

The man on stage mesmerized her.

He glided toward its edge and swooped low toward the tables down front. When they were filled with panting females, he’d have them fainting.

He flashed enticing parts of his skin as he moved around the stage. The voluminous material hid his hand movements. Pieces of his costume lay scattered on the platform. As they fluttered to the ground, he’d whip back his cape to offer a glimpse of the flesh unveiled.

Finally, as the seductive strains of the song faded away, he threw back the cape to stand gloriously naked except for the satin material covering his genitals.

Gathering the edge of the cape in his hands, he drew it over his body and the blue spotlight went out. When it went back on, the stage was empty. Only a black satin G-string remained in the light.

The spontaneous applause from the other contestants rocked the club.

He was going to be a hard act to beat.

A few minutes passed while the stage was made ready for the next act.

One of the men handed her a CD and gestured to the stage.

“He asked me to give this to you. You can start it any time.”

Julie placed the plastic disc in the rack and pressed the control.

A soft, golden spotlight illumined the stage centered on a life-size statue standing on a six-inch high marble platform. The sounds of Zamfir’s panpipes drifted into the audience.

The statue’s marbleized flesh was all muscle and sinew. Even the hair, à la Greco-Roman style, was a curly white wig with marble-like veins running through it.
The only spots of color were a deep purple bunch of grapes held aloft by one strong hand and a strategically placed fig leaf offering scanty covering for the heavy cock blossoming between the statue’s thighs.

Then the statue came to life. As it stepped about the stage, it paused and struck pose after pose.

One position had him on his knees, bending backward, thrusting his cock upward. He, too, drew near the rim of the platform, offering his grapes to the now empty tables.
In another pose, he lay on his back, the leg farthest away from the audience bent. He plucked a grape and slowly chewed it. The action proved incredibly erotic.

The following pose found him face down, and then, as though he were doing push-ups, he lifted his hips straight-legged from the floor. The movements that came after eliminated any doubt as to whether or not he was doing calisthenics.

With his head thrown back and the grapes lying neglected as he undulated his body, one knew that he was fucking an imaginary partner.

His thrusts grew more forceful as the music picked up its pace, growing wilder and more like a bacchanalia. One final lunge bowed his back and lifted his crotch from the floor.

He was as rigid as a tent pole, the white thong and fig leaf covering, but not concealing, his length.

A sigh ran through the spectators.

The lights went off and then on. He was posed back on his low pedestal, his profile to the front of the audience displaying his rampant manhood.

The lights went out again.

* * * *
So, do you believe in music now?

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Wednesday Spotlight: Jeanne Barrack

The Quiet Land of Erin

I've had a love affair with all things Irish since I was a teenager -- and believe me, that was long, long ago, veiled in the mists of time. I studied Gaelic. I hung out in Irish pubs. :-) I competed in fleadhanna cheoil (Irish music competitions) in the east coast and have over twenty gold medals for singing in Gaelic. I even honeymooned in Ireland. Half of my writing output is inspired by Irish history, culture and language. My first story set in Ireland was A Song of the Sidhe set during the ancient days in Ireland and inspired by an old Irish folk song.

To me, however, it's not St. Patrick who personifies Ireland, but Brigid, one of the most ancient goddesses.

When I wrote The Shimmering Flame, a story that mixes ancient Celtic myths with a mysterious race of super humans, there was no doubt in my mind who my heroine was going to be patterned after. I found an incredible amount of information on Brigid while doing research for The Shimmering Flame and its sequel, A Perfect Symmetry.

To explore the worlds I've created inspired by Brigid and the quiet land of Erin, please click on the book titles.

The Search for Brigid

As is often the case with the origins of gods and goddesses, there are many inconsistencies -- even the name Brigid can be spelled in a variety of ways. What isn't inconsistent is her power and goodness and how widespread her worship remains to this day.

Listed below is some of the information I gathered about her.

Triple Aspects
Goddess of Inspiration - poets, poetry, creativity, prophecy, arts
Goddess of Smithcraft - blacksmiths, goldsmiths, household crafts
Goddess of Healing - healers, medicine, spiritual healing, fertility (crops, land, cattle)

Fire - flames, candle crown, hearth
Water - cauldron, springs, wells
Grain - Brigid wheels, corn/oat sheaf Goddess effigy, Brigid's Bed
Creatures - white cow with red ears, wolf, snake, swan and vulture
Talismans - Shining Mirror to Otherworld, Spinning Wheel and Holy Grail

Name variations:
Brighid; Bride (Scotland), Brid, Brigit, Bridget, Briganta
(England), Brigan, Brigindo (Gaul), Berecyntia, Brigandu (France)

Some of the meanings of her Name: Bright One, High One, Bright Arrow, Power.

Irish Literature, Mythology, Folklore and Drama

This is without a doubt, the very best site for all things Celtic! Although some of the sites listed on it may be broken, most of them aren't and can lead you on a wonderful journey to this ancient land. Scroll down until you see Brigid's section on the lower right side of this page. This site is addictive.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Tuesday Spotlight: Jeanne Barrack

"There is no Frigate Like a Book"

For me, this line from a poem by Emily Dickinson expresses one of the many reasons why I write: I love to travel, but sadly, can only do that from the comfort of my desk chair now. That's why most of my books are set in different countries and different times.

One of my favorite journeys took place in The Crystal Flacon, book #5 in the Collector series. The story took me to Italy and the days of Lucrezia Borgia, sister of the infamous Cesare Borgia and daughter of Pope Alexander VI. I fell in love with Italy, especially Ferrara where Lucrezia lived with her third husband Alfonso d'Este, duke of Ferrara.

After reviewing numerous sources, it became apparent that Lucrezia was much maligned and her scandalous reputation exaggerated. As I explored the beautiful city of Ferrara through many different photos and online videos and TV programs (it seems I chose the right time to write a story about Lucrezia for there were a slew of travelogues and documentaries on Ferrara and associated topics) my love affair with the culture of Italy and especially the region of Emilia Romagna where Ferrara is situated, kept on growing.

Of course for most people when you think of Italy you think of food and I'm no exception. In fact, in the book I mention specific regional dishes, after all, taste is one of the senses. I also use olive oil in a rather interesting way....;~D
Regional cooking in Italy is very distinctive and the cooking of Emilia Romagna offers some very interesting influences. The region has given us some of the most familiar components of Italian cooking: Parmigiano Reggiano, Prosciutto and Aceto balsamico tradizionale or balsamic vinegar, is aged at least 12 years in barrels of different types of wood to become dark, dense and almost too divine to be called vinegar.

Since I love to cook, I had a load of fun getting into the mood for writing by preparing recipes from Ferrara, especially when I found ones that dated back to the days when Lucrezia was alive. Of the many delicious recipes I uncovered, this one has very close ties with the court of the d'Estes. Here's a bit of background about it and a link to a recipe. To be honest, I never tried preparing it because it's soooo elaborate. I do have an easy recipe for another dish and I'll offer a link for that one, too.

Pasticcio alla Ferrarese

This is an exceptionally nice source since there are photos showing traditional cookware and the pie.

This elaborate, traditional two crusted macaroni pie known as pasticcio is considered to be one of Ferrara’s finest creations. There are two versions, a salata (savory) one with no sugar in the crust, and a dolce version that adds sugar but the filling remains the same for both pie types

Pasticcio is filled with a short cut of pasta with lines called penne rigate, a rich pork and liver ragu, and wild mushrooms all held together by a creamy, nutmeg scented white sauce (salsa di besciamella.) Pasticcio saw its height during the reign of the d’Este family and was served at their many elaborate parties to impress their influential guests

Piadina Romagnola

Another very nice source for the same reasons as above.

I love this bread. it's very easy to make and quick. I always use EVOO (extra virgin olive oil) rather than lard, but that's my preference due to dietary restrictions.

So, now that I've given you a taste of Italy, I offer a link to an excerpt from The Crystal Flacon that presents a very different taste from an orgy -- rumored to have actually taken place!

Monday, October 26, 2009

Monday Spotlight: Jeanne Barrack

As a writer of contemporary, paranormal and historical romance novels in both het and gay genres, it sometimes surprises me when readers react as if the viewpoints of yesterday's times, settings and people should reflect the same attitudes of today's society especially with gay characters. Today, there are fewer obstacles to overcome before you announce to the one you love that you love them, but there are still hurdles.

But what also surprises me is that the very thing that makes a romance story a romance ~ a HEA or HFN ending ~ can be regarded with scorn. In works presented as romances, it's the journey to the "happily ever after" ending that makes up the story. Writers accommodate the possibility that readers will accept a "happy for now" ending, but still, at the end of the romance we want our protagonists to be happy. That's why we write ROMANCE and not some other genre; we may write in sub-genres (paranormals, historicals, mysterys, contemporaries or any other), but as long as they're coupled with that magic word "romance" there's at least one certain expectation. That's why readers read our stories. In mainstream fiction you can have a love story with an unhappy ending. A love story is not a romance.

So, I'd like to hear from the readers of the Blog and get their reactions to the following.

"I Have Dreamed" (Yep, that's a song title from Rodgers & Hammerstein's The King and I)

My question is two-fold:

Why should it be easy for characters to express their love and/or desire aloud to someone for whom they have intense feelings? If there are legitimate reasons not to reveal these feelings, why should one expect characters to just blurt out, "I love you" without any reflection or pause?

Although the above can refer to both heterosexual and gay characters, I'd like to confine this to gay characters specifically. What if one of the two characters not only didn't have the same feelings, but was so disgusted or horrified that he attacked the person revealing their feelings or reported him to the authorities? Would it be easy to just say something? Wouldn't it take time, and even a bit of courage to finally reveal your feelings?

So, what do you think? Have you ever had that problem in "real life"? If you're a writer, have you created situations where characters dare not speak its name? And as a reader of romance, do you expect a HEA or HFN ending?

To see some of the bends and twists that men had to make, check out some of my gay titles.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Bagairt by Anida Adler

Bagairt - Irish Gaelic for 'threat'.

Boggart- malevolant house fairy in English folklore.

Warmth. A bed softer than any she'd ever slept on. And the blanket -- not scratchy wool that always pricked her skin, but something like the down-filled comforters on the beds she made at the big house. Aine lay still, enjoying the sensation of soft fabric against her naked body, the brush of her long, brown hair to her face. She opened her eyes to stare at a white ceiling. It was low, though not as low as the thatch roof of the mud-wall cottage where she spent her childhood. Nor was it soaring and ornate, like the ceilings in the big house. It was flat and smooth. She risked a look around. The walls were as smooth, a soft peach color. Here and there hung paintings the like of which she'd never seen. They were pleasing to the eye, bright-colored depictions of horses, dogs and cats. Soft light glowed from a source she could not trace.

"Why was a bagairt chasing you?"

The man's voice startled her and she burrowed deeper under the blanket. Memory flooded back: the wind tearing at her clothes, rain stinging her skin, cold soaking through flesh and bone until she knew she was going to die. Then strong arms around her, her legs collapsing, the darkness of her dreams. Aine turned her face to where the voice had come from and she forgot to breathe.

The man sprawled in the big upholstered chair had hair like the golden fleece she'd read of in the master's book of Greek mythology. Cut unfashionably short, it still curled around his head like a halo. His blue eyes were friendly but guarded. A light blue shirt of a cut she'd never seen before hugged a broad chest and strong arms. His close-fitting breeches covered his legs down to his ankles, and he wore no hose. In fact, he had no shoes on, either. Aine swallowed to try and combat a suddenly dry mouth. She berated the wanton hussy that woke inside her, pushed away the scandalous thoughts that sprang to her mind.

"It was no bagairt, sir. It was the master of the house where I work."

He tapped a knee with long fingers. "Why was he chasing you?"

Aine hesitated. A lie hovered on the tip of her tongue, but when she looked into her benefactor's eyes, she couldn't bring herself to tell it. "The master got wind that I was no blushing virgin. He wanted to taste of my skills, and would not accept that though I was not averse to taking a lover, it had to be a lover of my choosing." Here she faltered. It was easier to confess that she was no stranger to the art of love, than it was to relate that awful night when she risked going to look for her friend Maire, when she heard the muffled screams of pain while passing the master's bedroom door. Maire never did return, and no-one ever heard of her again. She ran away to her mother's family in the north, everyone said, but Aine had seen blood on the master's bedsheets and had her own theory of what had happened. He'd set his sights on her next, and she'd made a bid to escape.

Just her luck to choose the night of Candlemas 1715, when the worst storm in living memory unleashed its fury on fair Eireann.

Her host said nothing, but somehow she couldn't rid herself of the feeling that he guessed much more than she had told. A slow, lazy heat bloomed over her breasts, poured down the skin of her belly to the apex of her thighs. What was happening to her? She'd never felt so attracted to a man. She averted her gaze, stared at the simple wooden wardrobe in the corner, lest he saw the desire in her eyes.

"Do you suspect what I am, young lady?"

"Aye," she said. He raised an eyebrow, and she mumbled, "I think you are one of the Good People, sir."

"And you are right. I am one of the Tuatha De Dannan, and you are in the hidden world."

"Tir na nOg?" Was she in the legendary land beyond time? Where people would spend a day, and return to their families to find years had passed? Or live a lifetime to return the day they'd left?

"No, no. Tir na nOg and the hidden world are two different places. But my race lives in both, and the time between this world and yours is also not connected. You'll know, then, that my kind like to help those in need."

"At a price." She was nothing if not practical.

He chuckled. "I like your spirit. Yes. I offer you my help, but you will have to pay me."

"Name your price, sir, and I will tell you if I'm prepared to pay it."

Her savior shifted in the chair, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His shirt spanned over his shoulders, and Aine felt warm juices slick her sex. "I can defeat the bagairt." He raised a finger to still her protest. "Whatever you might think, the creature after you is a bagairt. One of my kind who has gone seriously wrong. Many of us live among you, er... what is your name?"


"And mine is Lorcan. Here is my offer: I will go back to the night when I found you half frozen and close to death, and I will fight the bagairt. Most probably, I will win, and it will be safe for you to return. My price is this: I want you to be my woman for a year. In every sense of the term."

Her arse cheeks clenched involuntarily at his words. Every sense of the term? Oh, God, that was no price he demanded. That was another favor he offered to her. She pretended to think it over, but her mind was already made up. "Fine. I accept your terms. One year as your woman." She flicked a nervous tongue-tip over her lips, suddenly afraid. "In every sense of the term."

Lorcan smiled. "Good."

She thought he'd take her then and there, but she was wrong. Over the days that followed, he patiently showed her how to work the strange machines he possessed which made housework so much simpler. Every opportunity to touch her was taken, and Aine felt the tension rise in her lower belly. She wanted him so much, wanted him more still when he showed her books to read, and spent long hours talking and laughing with her.

He hunted under the sky she discovered was always doused in twilight dimness, never lit by golden sun, never basked in silver moonlight. Night was just a little darker than day, while dawn meant no more than a slight lightening of the gloom. The Fey made up for this loss with frequent feasts, music and dancing. Lorcan took her to one of these, and they danced until their skins were slicked with sweat and her pussy dripped with desire.

"Undress," he whispered when they returned to his house. Aine obeyed his command with shaking fingers, peeling the soft, yellow dress he'd given her from her body. He watched, silent, but the growing bulge in his trousers said all she needed to hear. "Now undress me. I need you to do it. I need to know you want me of your own free will."

She stepped closer to him, undid the buttons at his throat, then trailed her fingers over his collarbone as she slid his shirt off. He blew over her hot, naked breasts and her nipples pebbled in response. When they were both naked, he bowed his head and tasted her lips, a slow, sensuous kiss as if he wanted to memorize the taste and fragrance of her body. Aine slid her hands over his smooth skin, the hard muscles of his chest, his flanks, his back. His tight arse. He cupped her breasts, squeezed her nipples, and she let out a moan of pleasure.

Emboldened, she closed her fingers around his cock. He was big, much bigger than either of the lovers she'd had. Lorcan groaned when she stroked the velvet flesh and nibbled her neck, his hands on her arse. He lifted her off the ground, looked into her eyes and lowered her onto his shaft. She whimpered as her body stretched to fit him, but he was slow, gentle. Pleasure built inside her as he invaded her body more and more. Soon he was sheathed to the hilt in her heated flesh. She clung to his shoulders as he pumped into her.

Lorcan drew in a sharp breath and stilled. She wriggled in his arms, wanting more. "Sssh, wait now, my sweet vixen, or it will be over before it has begun," he said, a shudder in his voice. "You test my self-control." He walked her to the bed and lowered her onto it, his cock moving inside her body, sending pleasure-ripples through muscle and nerve.

She arched her back when her body rested on the soft comforter, his weight pinning her down, and Lorcan groaned. "Wench, you drive me mad. I want you. I want all of you. Lose yourself, sweet Aine, lose yourself." He thrust his hard cock into her soaking sex again and again, stoking the fire that burned away all coherent thought, building the sweet pressure in her womb until she cried out. Sensation burst inside her, rolled in waves from her belly to every part of her body. He found the rhythm of her pleasure-spasms and tuned his movements to her body's song, prolonging her ecstasy before pushing deep into her, stilling, then joining her. The pulse of his release triggered another eruption in her body and she screamed, pushed her hips up to have more and more of him, clenched her inner muscles to milk him of every drop of his fluid.

Sated, fulfilled, they rolled over and, clinging together, fell asleep.


Aine sprang to her feet when she heard his step on the porch. She rushed to open the door for her lover, the man who'd shown her pleasure beyond her wildest dreams this past year. He leaned against a pillar, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. She dashed to his side and lifted one arm over her shoulders. "Lorcan, you fool! I told you, you didn't have to keep your promise. I didn't need the bagairt to be defeated, because I didn't want to return to my old life! I want to stay here, with you. Do you not want me? Is that why you had to go?"

He let her help him into the house, though part of her would rather add her own pommeling to the beating he must have endured. Lorcan winced when he sank into a chair, then turned his blue-eye gaze to her and smiled. "I know, my love. And no, I don't want you to leave. But we will need to visit the world of men a few times. Together."


"Because, sweet Aine, here in the hidden world, there is something you and I can't do."

She filled a bowl with water, brought it to his side and dipped a cloth to wipe away the blood. "And what might that be?"

"We cannot conceive a child here. We have to go to the world of men for that."

Her hands stilled. "You mean..."

"Yes, my love. I do." He grasped her wrist, not as weakened as she'd thought, and pulled her onto his lap.

About the author: Anida Adler is the erotica-writing alter ego of author Nadia Williams. She grew up in South Africa, but has been happily living in Ireland since 2005. Nadia's novel, The Pebble, can be found at Amira Press. Anida's The Ancient is available from Loose Id.

Author Interview: Nyki Blatchley

Whipped Cream is pleased to welcome Nyki Blatchley, whose novel At an Uncertain Hour was released this spring by StoneGarden.

When Nyki was in his mid-teens, he started writing a fantasy trilogy and he's nearing the end of it now, nearly forty years later. It has expanded into a fantasy world that now consists of hundreds of countries and thousands of years of history, and the majority of his fiction is set there. He has also written a lot of poetry and had quite a bit published.

"I also performed it live a lot, mainly around venues in London, often backed by my own pre-recorded music which I dubbed The Invisible Band," he told me. "One of the venues I appeared at a lot was Bunjies Coffee House, which in the sixties hosted people like Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and David Bowie. In the past few years, though, I haven’t been writing much poetry – I’m not sure why, but hopefully it’ll come back to me.

"I’ve recently expanded into erotica. I had three books published by Dark Eden Press before its unfortunate demise, but I’ve found an excellent new home with Lyrical Press Inc. I’m always looking for new areas to expand into – recently, I’ve been working on a script for a TV series."

I asked Nyki how he distinguished between erotica, erotic romance, and pornography.

"Well, the sound byte answer is that porn is about sex, erotica is about sexuality and romance is about relationships. Erotic romance is an in-between which, I suppose, could be described as exploring relationships through sexuality.

"Perhaps the easiest illustration is to take a situation. Two people (John and Mary, Mary and Jane, John and Paul, whatever) meet in an otherwise empty lift. In a porn story, they’re overcome by wild animal lust and have sex an improbable number of times, while the lift goes up and down and, miraculously, no-one gets in till they’re adjusting their clothes. The sex is described in explicit physical detail, but we learn very little about who they are.

"In an erotic story, they have sex in the lift, and feel an overwhelming urge to continue meeting and doing similar things. The sex is still described explicitly, but a lot more emphasis is given to the feelings and emotional reactions, and the story explores what drives them to take this kind of risk.

"In an erotic romance, they probably don’t have sex there and then, but they flirt and both feel very aroused. Subsequent meetings, where they do have sex in various situations, make them realise they’re in love, leading to a HEA ending. The sex is probably a little less explicit, though still steamy, with a lot more emphasis on the emotions.

"In a straight romance story, they definitely don’t have sex in the lift, but the meeting leads to a courtship (probably having to overcome problems) as they fall in love and achieve a HEA ending. If they do have sex during the story, it probably won’t be described explicitly."

Nyki sees erotica and porn as fundamentally different things, with the only similarity being that porn always and erotica usually involves explicit descriptions of sex. "Otherwise, they’re not the same at all," he said.

One misconception he sees about erotica is that people think women read and write erotica, while men read and write porn.

"Like most stereotypes, this has a kernel of truth, in that the traditional audience for porn has tended to be predominantly male, whereas the rise in erotica’s profile came with the development of a female market," he explained. "It’s also true that women tend to be more interested in the emotional side than men, but that’s only a tendency, not an absolute. Men both read and write erotica, just as (I presume) some women read and write porn."

"How do you judge what makes a good erotic story when writing your own fiction?" I asked.

"Well, the most obvious sign is whether I get... let’s say, distracted while I’m writing. Although arousal isn’t the main or only purpose of erotica, as it is with porn, a good erotic story should certainly be arousing.

"Other than that, it’s much the same as with other types of story – are the characters people who I’d care about if I were a reader, are the events sufficiently exciting or moving, are the scenes described so that the reader can see them?"

Nyki told me that he's not generally a big researcher, or rather—he tends to write then he does any research he needs to do afterwards. Since he writes about a sorceress in a fantasy world, it might not seem as if it leaves a lot of room open for research.

"There are things I need to have at least a basic grasp on, such as how magic has been believed to work in the real world, or what kind of weapons are effective in what situation," he said. "I draw on a lot of knowledge I have anyway; otherwise, I look things up on a need-to-know basis.

"As far as the erotic side goes – well, I’d like to say I go out and try everything I write, but the truth is a bit less exciting. Some is from experience, of course – not only direct experience but, for instance, knowing how partners have reacted and how they’ve described their experiences. Where I’ve nothing like that to draw on, I read accounts of what particular types of sex are like. And where even that fails me (there aren’t too many reliable accounts, for instance, of what sex with a faery is like) I use my imagination. Those tend to be the bits that are most fun."

"Have fun" is the advice he would give to someone wanting to write erotica. "Although there’s a serious side to erotica, you’re writing about the most enjoyable way of playing known to humankind (or to bonobos, the only other creatures who appear to enjoy sex purely for fun)," he told me. "You don’t have to have experienced directly everything you write about, but you need to draw on your own sexuality to write erotica. If you haven’t experienced something, has your current or former partner? You could either discuss it or judge from their reactions – this can be invaluable if you’re writing about the opposite sex.

"Oh, and one other thing – don’t try to write erotica in public. If you’re doing it right, the results can be a little embarrassing."

On a personal note, I asked Nyki, "If you could be anyone, who would you choose to be?"

"I’m really pretty cool with being me, though I’d certainly like to be me-with-more-money. If I could have a short-term experience being someone else, it wouldn’t be one specific person, but I’d like to experience being a woman," he replied. "Not permanently – I’m certainly not looking for a sex-change – but just for a while, to see what it’s like."

For eating off the tummy (or other body parts) he prefers something a bit sticky and a bit runny, such as cream, chocolate sauce, or honey, so it takes a lot of licking to clean up thoroughly. Another benefit is they tend to run elsewhere, which then also needs to be cleaned up.

"Other places – well, licking chocolate sauce off the boobs is always great, or fruit served up in the pussy. Strawberries and cream, preferably," he said.

He has too many favorite foods to choose just one, he said, admitting he likes variety. Some of his favorites include chocolate, ham sandwiches, mushrooms, roast beef, pretty much anything Chinese, chicken fajitas, and steak and chips. There's also a local make of sausages, Braughing sausages, that he says, "knocks every other sausage into a cocked hat."

He continued, "River cobbler (a fish from south-east Asia I’ve recently discovered), cheesecake, real Italian pizzas, roast potatoes the way I do them, Chicken a la Westria (my recipe), apple pie... I’ll stop there, I think."

There is one food he absolutely cannot bring himself to eat, though. "Swede," he told me. "I think it’s called rutabaga in the US. It’s a cross between a cabbage and a turnip, and it got the worst of both. Yuck."

Finally, I asked Nyki what advice he would give to a writer just starting out.

"I have two pieces of advice, really. One is just to write. Write everything and anything, and don’t worry about the quality – it’s all practice. Of course, if you read it back and realise you’ve come up with a masterpiece, so much the better.

"The other is (again) to have fun. For instance, it’s common to advise would-be writers to 'write what you know'. No – write what interests you. If you have a fascinating story to tell about something close to home, that’s fine, but if 'what you know' is a bit dull, as it is for most of us, then by all means write about international espionage, medieval knights or adventure in a galaxy far far away. And if you don’t have the information you need to write about such things, it’s a perfect opportunity to learn. Most people have a local library, and Google is just a click away.

"Oh, and the third of the two pieces of advice – try to finish at least some stories. A lot of beginning writers start loads of projects, then outgrow and abandon them. The problem with this is that they get lots of practice writing beginnings, but none at all writing endings, which is one of the most difficult things. Even if you already know the work isn’t going to be publishable, at least use it for practice."

You can keep up with Nyki on his blog,

Friday, October 23, 2009

Friday Spotlight: Raine Delight

Halloween Fun for Free

I have to say with today's economy, I am always looking for ways to do things with the kids that cost little or even better, free. When I saw the latest Women's World Magazine, I was thrilled to see how I can log on the internet for "Free Halloween Fun". (Magazine date: 10/26/2009-on stands now).

If you like watching fright movies then check out the following links for those horror classics like Night of the Living Dead, The Crawling Hand and The Hitchhiker at and at

Love Spooky Stories? Then check out these links for adults and younger kids that will scare you with spooky ghosts, frightful zombies and more at and for younger kids- the less eerie Halloween-themed stories at

Want to create creepy snacks for a party? Then check out how to make Coffin Cake, Bloody Fingers, Jack O' Lantern Pizza, and other easy to make recipes at

Like playing games or to use as kid fun at a local event? Check out this site for ghoulish games that you can print out such as word finds, crossword puzzles and more at

Do you like to dress your pet up? Then check out these websites where the pets are dressed up in cute costumes: and Like Cats? Then check these frightful felines in their costumes at and at

It doesn't have to cost a lot to have a frightful Halloween celebration and there is even more out there on the internet waiting for you to explore.

*Source of links: Woman's World Magazine, date- 10/26/09*

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Thursday Spotlight: Raine Delight

Werewolves, vampires, zombies Oh My!

Halloween is here and that means all those beloved creatures of the night are front and center the entire month of October. What creature of the night makes your heart go pitter patter? Is it those sexy and wild werewolves? Is it the seductive and sinful vampires? What about those ghosts that make you shiver? I love all things spooky and here are my top three favorites (and the books that I adore) to wet your appetites and maybe to add to that reading list of yours.

3) Ghosts: I love those spooky ghosts especially in Mary Winter's Dangerous Spirits series from It is one of those series where you go “ooohhh” in one breath then scramble to see what happens next. It is sexy, fun and a worthy book to read over again. :-)

2) Werewolves/shifters: Frankly with all the fuss over Twilight's wolves, I have to say they are one group that can bring a man/woman to their knees as they find the Inner wild woman/man. I love my shifters and I have a soft spot for Rodrick Dracon (my wolf shifter in Haunting Magic). He was such a playboy until the one woman brings him to his knees. *grins* (

And the number One favorite is……..

Vampires: What is it about these guys that keep a reader enthralled? Is it their seductive powers that have you in their grasp? Is it the way the exude sex? I love reading about them and have to say my top vampire book to read is LA Banks' Vampire Huntress Series. This series is one where a vampire turns to good, finds himself fighting a battle of good and evil next to the one woman destined to keep the Armageddon from happening. I can read these books countless times and each time, the emotions go into overdrive and I am intrigued to the very end. Ms. Banks definitely delivers vampires in a unique sort of way.

So what is your favorite Creature of the Night to read?

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Wednesday Spotlight: Raine Delight

How do you name your characters?

Well that question stumps me each and every time I am asked that. How do I name my characters…well for one thing, my characters have a mind of their own. If I say Character A is named Max, he will turn around and say “My name is Dax, not Max” and frankly overpower my muse's desires. I can try to get a word edgewise in but it is a losing battle. I learned early on to give them free reign on their names and personality traits. I like to be surprised by their comments and desires. One day I was working a WIP (work in progress) and instead of a woman he was to be destined for, my hero found himself longing for a man named Declan Silver. :-) It was quite a difference to say the least, especially as I had planned for him to end up with a secondary character in my Devon Falls series named Dixie. *laughs* Well needless to say, he got his desire and Moonlight & Magic will be my first M/M paranormal and I wouldn't have gone that way without that character telling me what he wanted.

My inspiration for my characters tends to revolve around Johnny Depp. Anyone who knows me knows I love this man's acting ability. He plays a wide variety of parts and always seems to deliver a stellar performance each time. So basically all my heroes tend to look like him and go from there. :-)

If you could name a character for an upcoming novel, what would your entry be?

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Tuesday Spotlight: Raine Delight

Promotion and a new writer

Congratulations, you got your first book contract and now the publisher wants you to go out and talk about your book. Where do you go? What do you do if you are a new author just starting out and don't have an advance? Well, I found myself in this position a few years ago and found innovative ways to get my name out there.

I looked for free places where I can go to chat with readers, introduce myself and “pimp” my book to the readers. I also talked to established authors on marketing ideas and made up a ton of free promo items at home off my computer like bookmarks, post cards and other stuff to send out to review places/conventions for promotional items to get readers interested in my work.

Blogs are great, yahoo lops, interviews, spotlights, a professional looking website if possible and more all help get your name out there to the readers. I try to do a blog spotlight a month and a few interviews or chats a week if possible. I go on loops and start asking reader questions, use my signature line with links for readers to go to and I just started using twitter, which confounds me but I hear it helps readers get to know you better. It doesn't have to cost a ton of money for you as a beginner author to get your name out there. All you need is perseverance and a little ingenuity to make your name known.

Monday, October 19, 2009

Monday Spotlight: Raine Delight

“What inspires your stories?”

You know that is the one question I dread answering as an author. Ask me on my characters, stories, upcoming attractions but ask me what inspires something and I am at a loss. Well I take that back…not exactly a loss but it is hard for me to get the right words to explain what inspires me.

Everything inspires me…a news article, passing snatch of a song on a radio heck something that may have happened in my life. All is up for fodder for ideas and yes, I do use creative license to make them a tad bit more interesting *grins*.

I think writing a new story is like making a new recipe. You have a dash of this, a dash of that…stir it all up and add in some yummy bits to make something so yummy, you want more.

For my Devon Falls series, I used a combination of my home town and my former places of employment to create the town of paranormals. Each time I wrote a Devon Falls book, it grew and more characters popped up to clamor for a story. For example, my hometown has a candy shop where I actually knew the owner and his family who made and sold these yummy treats. That was the basis of Sticky Magic and then it grew. I seem to add to it each time I go back to Devon Falls and frankly I like adding to it but dang if it isn't hard to keep up.


For my Space Pirates Series, I read a science article online on what would happen to the Earth if there was a freak Gamma Explosion that hit us and of course, it helped I was watching Johnny Depp play Captain Jack *grins*, that my Space Pirates were born.

Another series is based on my fascination of the BDSM world and the many stories I read about it lately. Club Fantasy series is a paranormal, of course, with two very hot co-owners and lovers. This series is pure imagination but the question of “What if you stepped in this club and found a side of you that you never knew existed?” fascinated me and had me thinking ideas. This was intriguing and the basis of Desires Unleashed was born with a heroine who finds her falling for two very different men that leave her panting for more.

My muse is a nut that likes to leave me hanging and keeps me jumping with ideas. With each story a little bit of me goes in there and frankly that is how I like it.

So what inspires me? Why everything and anything, dear reader. I hope to continue entertaining you in the future with more books and steamy fun.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Touch Screen by Giselle Renarde

I live in a big, faceless, 28-storey concrete block. An apartment building, in other words. A hideous monster of a thing on the outside, though the inside’s not looking too bad now that the lobby’s been refurbished. They put in this new touch-screen system so your visitor only has to touch your name to call up to your apartment. Your phone rings, you press nine, and that buzzes open the lobby door. So, now that you’re clear on how the system works, let me tell you how it can fail you and why I can’t show my face around the building anymore.

Russell came for a surprise visit one lazy afternoon. The phone woke me from my cat-nap when he called up from the lobby. In my state of drowsy disorientation, I kept hitting snooze on the alarm clock, but that obviously didn’t stop the ringing. Finally, my brain kicked into gear. I picked up my cordless phone and my insides fluttered when I heard his voice. “Would you care for a visitor?”

“Get your ass up here, mister!” I cried, pressing nine on the phone and throwing it down on the pillow. Wiping the drool from my cheek, I ran to the door to greet my man in lacy pink panties and nothing more.

The minute he walked through the door, I tore his clothes off, kissing him madly as he tried to say, “Just thought I’d stop by for a…”

“Quickie?” I suggested, dragging him into my sunlit bedroom. Just the scent of his skin had me hopping with wild desire.

“A visit, I was going to say. But have it your way,” he replied melodramatically.

“Have my way with you?”

“If you must,” he sighed, flopping onto my bed like a big diva. I didn’t need much more encouragement than that! Hurling myself at his half-clothed body, I made his pants disappear like magic and pulled a rabbit out of his shorts. That raging cock of his was so hard in my hands I didn’t even bother pulling his socks off his feet before diving at it.

Between my man’s muscular thighs, I traced circles around his cockhead with my tongue as he ran his hands through my hair. I made mmm noises as I wrapped my lips around it, listening for a response in kind. Nothing. I ran my tongue the length of his shaft, taking the tip in my mouth, anticipating a moan of approval. Still nothing.

“Why are you always so quiet?” I asked, sounding more exasperated than I wanted to. “I’m always so loud and you don’t make any noise at all! How am I supposed to know if you like what I’m doing?”

“I always like what you’re doing,” Russell assured me.

“Then prove it! Make some noise,” I encouraged.

It worked. When I took his delicious cock in my mouth, he cried out, “Oh yeah! That is so good.”

“Oh, so you like it when I suck your cock?” I teased.

“God, yes.”

“What do you love?” I asked, wanting to hear him say the dirty words.

“I love it when you suck my cock!”

“When I what?”

“Suck my cock!” he shouted, and I growled, hurling myself at him. I could almost feel his cock surge as I sucked, pumping his meat with my hand.

“Grab my balls,” he instructed. That was a new one. So I took them in my palm, rolling them like a pair of those jingling Chinese orbs that used to be popular.

“Squeeze them,” he roared, bucking his hips. “Squeeze my balls hard.”

I did. I squeezed them so hard I thought it would hurt, but he only cried, “Yeah, that’s good. Pump my cock. Suck it ‘til I come.”

God, I felt like such a naughty girl with my soft-spoken Russell hollering dirty requests at me. I nearly came at the instructions alone. I didn’t think he had it in him, but he was out to prove me wrong.

In double time, I went wild on his cock. My hand flew as I jerked him off, squeezing his balls and sucking at his cockhead until his body writhed beneath me. He cried out, “Yeah, suck my cock; I’m gonna blast cum down your throat. Suck it hard!”

I could hardly keep myself from smiling as I listened to my aural sex virgin’s first vocal ejaculation. He came harder than I’d ever felt, panting, “Oh yeah, babe. That was so good.”

Just as I was starting to feel pleased with myself for teaching Russell a new skill, I looked up at my pillow. Upon it, right beside his head, sat my cordless phone. My heart turned to ice as I reached for it. It was still on. It had just broadcast our quickie, complete with Russell’s dirty talk, to my entire lobby.

Yes, there are worse things in the world, but as it stands I try to keep a low profile around the building. Every so often, I’m convinced I hear someone taunting, “Squeeze my balls!”

About the author: Eroticist, environmentalist and pastry enthusiast, Giselle Renarde is a proud Canadian, committed volunteer, and supporter of the arts. For Giselle, a perfect day involves watching a snowstorm rage outside with a cup of tea in one hand and a chocolate truffle in the other. Ms Renarde lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head. She is published with several publishers including Phaze, eXcessiva, loveyoudivine, as well as numerous online erotic magazines and sites. For more information on Giselle and her work, visit her website at or her blog, Donuts & Desires

Author Interview: Melodee Aaron

Whipped Cream is pleased to welcome Melodee Aaron. Melodee has several stories published with Siren Publishing as well as Amira Press. Melodee was one of the first authors to push the envelope beyond ménage to examine what she calls "polyamorous" relationships.

"How do you personally distinguish between erotica, erotic romance, and pornography?" I asked.

"That distinction can be hard," she said. "No pun intended! In my mind, it all has to do with characters and plot...

"In porn, there's no need for developed characters and a plot. Yes, this is a judgment call as one person's opinion on a good character or plot will be different from another person's concept. Porn is simple titillation for titillation's sake.

"The line between erotica and erotica romance is even finer for me. In general, the addition of a long-term dedicated relationship between the characters moves a story from erotica to erotica romance.

"Now, if you've read my books, you'll know that none of this prohibits multiple partners in a polyamorous relationship.

"Yes, polyamorous. I hate the term 'ménage' because that word, in my opinion, doesn't require a dedicated, loving relationship between three (or more) people. When I think 'ménage', I picture three+ way sex and not much more."

For Melodee, a good erotic story has the same characteristics of any good story: well-developed, real characters and a plot that engages the readers. "The erotica and romance features are just add-ons to the simple basics of a story," she said. "That said, there are different required elements for a story depending on if it is porn, erotica, or erotica romance because the target reader is different.

"There's no nice way to put is aimed mostly at men, and they like lots of hot sex. Men don't care about the love and attraction. They want to get down and dirty as fast as possible. The formula for porn is pretty simple, too—girl goes down on guy, guy goes down on girl, three positions, ending with a 'pop-shot'. It doesn't matter if we're talking about a book or a movie.

"Erotica is still aimed mostly at men, but there is a little added romance to attract women as well. Not too much, though, because the men will find the romance sappy and so lose interest. The idea here is to get both male and female readers excited. I like to think that a couple—or larger group—will read this together. At least a few pages!

"Erotica romance is targeted at women. Lots of romance, love, and tenderness are needed to really grab the woman reader."

Melodee writes all three, and the research needed depends on the story and which of the three she's writing the story as.

"Porn needs little research beyond coming up with some very hot and exciting positions," she explained. "Erotica needs more to build a decent plot. Erotica romance needs as much research as mainstream literature. After all, erotica romance is nothing more than a mainstream romance with the bedroom door left open!

"I write in erotica romance, erotica, and porn and all three have some elements of the other two. Some of the extreme sex of porn can easily be worked into erotica romance for example if the author handles it right.

"I tend to push the envelope in my erotica romance stories, though. Those who have read For the Love of Payne know what I mean. Ike, the heroine, has a number of pretty intense trysts with men other than Devon, the hero, in the book. That's a big no-no in erotica romance, but it works in the story because it tells us who and what Ike is.

"There was a time when I would 'try out' scenes from my books. That was last week. Anyway, the research should include as much of your personal experiences as possible so you really know what you're talking about."

Most of what Melodee writes has a science fiction spin to it which can make the research pretty rough, and she makes things even harder on herself by forcing herself to write hard science fiction, or science fiction that has a basis in fact.

"For example," she shared, "I have ships in my stories that travel faster than light. According to relativity and quantum mechanics, that's not possible. But I use something called M-theory, and it's entirely possible there. I have to be able to back up every little detail."

"What research books do you recommend for writers starting out in writing erotica?" I wondered.

"That's easy," she replied. "A good dictionary and thesaurus is an absolute must. A style manual helps, but most good authors ignore the manual to a large degree.

"A copy of the Kama Sutra is also a big help for those times when you just can't think of anything new and different.

"Finally, don't ignore those who have gone before you! Make a trip to the local adult bookstore or check around on the Internet. After all, other writers and the porn industry are selling what they offer, so they must be doing something right."

Melodee writes just about everything, but in the writing industry, an author's name gets linked to a particular genre, so you won't find children's books written by Melodee Aaron.

"Would you buy a nonfiction book about the rise and fall of the Ottoman Empire written by Stephen King?" Melodee said.

Melodee's move to erotica and porn happened when she was in college. "Hey, it got the attention of the guys in the frat house!" she said.

She started writing erotica romance mainly in the e-book world about three years ago.

I asked her what her family thought about her writing.

"I don’t think anyone I care about has a problem with the erotica I write," she said. "I know there are a few relatives who don't care for it, but then again, I don't care for them so it doesn't matter.

"Actually, it wouldn't matter to me in any event. I like writing erotica romance, erotica, and porn, and I will do what I like. What other people think has no impact on what I do. It shouldn't.

"As far as the reading goes, my biggest fan reads all of my stories, no matter the genre. Frankly, I like when he reads the erotic works right before bed.

"I better just shut up now!"

Melodee did a reading once for a purely erotica story, and she told me that sitting in front of a room full of people reading out loud was embarrassing. "Some of that was the content," she said, "and some was that I am a little self-conscious about speaking out loud since my deafness gives me what most people think of as a speech impediment."

That wasn't the most embarrassing moment in her life though.

"That would have to be the time that a couple I was dating at the time (Bill and Rhonda) and I were caught in the elevator at a Sears store in St. Louis.

"It was a slow ride, so Ronda and I decided we could get off before we had to get off. The elevator, that is. We didn't make it. The door opened in the middle of the hardware department on the third floor. Poetic justice I guess. All three of us were in various stages of undress when a group of four or five people started to step into the car.

"We pushed the 'close door' button and finished up before we made it to the top."

"If you could entertain a character from a book, who would it be and what would the evening be like?" I asked.

"Are we talking from one of my books or from someone else's books? From my books, it would be Harry from The Polyamorous Princess. Maybe that's not actually fair, though, because Harry has a good deal of me in him—sort of a cross-dressing Melodee. He's smart to a fault, arrogant, demanding, and drop-dead gorgeous. I think I would give him a run for his money. If nothing else, we'd find each other entertaining. In the Biblical sense.

"From other books, there are literally thousands of choices. If I had to narrow it down to just one, it would be Hari Sheldon from the Foundation trilogy by Asimov. No, I wouldn't jump his bones, but the character would be absolutely fascinating to talk to! Good, intelligent conversation is hard to find.

"I can get sex anyplace."

On a personal note, if Melodee could be anyone she wanted to be, she would remain herself. "I like being me, and I'm not sure how to be anyone else. True, I've had some tough things happen to me in my life, and being deaf hasn't made it much easier, but all of those things have shaped who I am. Similarly, the good things have also made me into the person I am today. I wouldn't trade them, or who I am, for anything."

She also told me that she can't think of any place she would pierce that isn't already perforated. "I have thirteen places above the waist and three below pierced now. You can figure out the locations!" she said. "There aren't many places left!

"I love tattoos and piercings, not only on me, but also on others. Piercings can enhance one's appearance, as can tattoos, but I like it artfully done. A skull just doesn't cut it. Body art and jewelry can draw attention to parts of the body and build anticipation. As I said, I have a total of sixteen piercings and I also have fourteen tattoos. Some are visible in 'normal' dress, some can be seen only at the beach, and others require—shall we say—a more intimate relationship to be apparent."

She also admits to an oral fixation—"a, um, two-way oral fixation," she clarified. She can tie a cherry stem with her tongue, and she can also roll her tongue and turn it upside down. "The same gene allows for all of that," she explained.

She likes syrups to eat of someone else's tummy. "Chocolate, butterscotch, marshmallow cream, and so many others are wonderful for that," she said. "They cling a little but still have a good deal of 'flow factor'. The downside is that they all tend to be sticky. Then again, the syrup is usually the least sticky thing around at this point.

"For other body parts, does it really matter? Not as far as I can tell! I do have a thing for hotdog buns and mustard." You can keep up with Melodee on her website,

Friday, October 16, 2009

Friday Spotlight: J.A. Saare

Ten Things Most People Don’t Know About Me

For fun, I decided to share ten totally random (and odd) things about me. When I’m done, why don’t you share ten random things about yourself? We can take notes and compare.

Without further ado…shall we?

1. My favorite beverage is Sam’s Choice Cola. Not Coca-Cola, not Pepsi. It has to be the cheap, generic, Sam’s brand. Accept no substitute!

2. If Karate Kid comes on cable, I will sit down and watch it all. Don’t ask me why, because I’m still trying to figure that one out.

3. I love smells. My husband makes fun of me and says I write about wolves because deep down I partially am one. Doesn’t matter if it’s my kids, perfume, or some weird odor I catch on the wind. I’ll say, “Can you smell that?”

4. I can’t tell telephone solicitors no. I know they can’t see me, but being harsh is just something I’m not capable of doing. Caller ID, in my humble opinion, is the best invention since the electric razor.

5. I detest fish dishes of any kind. The only exceptions are tuna in the can and Captain D’s. If you’re not offering that, don’t bother. I’ll politely decline.

6. I make a mean homemade apple pie from scratch.

7. I’m an enormous college football fan.

8. I love Iron Chef, especially the old school shows. Hiroyuki Sakai has always been my favorite.

9. I hate cardboard boxes. Eek!! The noise it makes against your fingernails makes my mouth water like I’ve stuck a lemon under my tongue.

10. I collect unicorns. I have two curio cabinets full of them.

So how about you? Does anyone else love Daniel-son, unicorns, and Sam’s Choice cola?

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Thursday Spotlight: J.A. Saare

The Creation of A Kiss Before Dying

Once upon a time, I had a problem. For some reason, I just could not, under any circumstance, write about sex. It was a constant hurdle, an albatross around my neck, and one day I decided it was out with the prude and in with the crude. My husband was traveling on business, and as a mini-vacay (read that to mean the first time in two years since we’d had significant time alone) I went along for the journey. It was a trip from Alabama to Colorado, with two layovers. That meant I had roughly six hours from home to resort (aka the Hamilton Inn) to write my story.

Before we departed, I already had a general idea of what I wanted to write. It would be hot, it would be short, and it would be sweet. I also knew it would be about blood slaves, vampires, and a forbidden affair. But I had one restriction. No matter what, the protagonists had to love one another. It was going to erotic romance if it killed me, and that was non-negotiable.

So picture this: me with my trusty laptop, surrounded by tons of people in the airport waiting areas. At first, I was extremely uncomfortable. I just knew Pops over there with his cup of coffee knew what I was up to. But at our first layover, I settled right in. None of the other people awaiting flights were aware of what I was creating right before their eyes, and you know what, a part of me thought that was kind of naughty. *grin* I blocked out the world around me, and went all out. My fingers flowed across those keys, faster and then faster. It was as if some part of my subconscious let go and allowed me to travel where I’d always needed to go. Before I knew it, were boarding our plane to Colorado and the rough manuscript for A Kiss Before Dying was complete.

During that next week, I spent the time my husband was away polishing it up. When I was finished, I debated on whether or not it was good enough to share, but ultimately decided to take a chance and submit it for consideration. Shortly after, I was offered a contract.

And that’s how A Kiss Before Dying came about. It’s one of my favorite stories because it helped me get over one major hurdle and serves to remind me that if we put our best foot forward, anything is possible.

Happy Reading!


Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Wednesday Spotlight: J.A. Saare

In the world of writing, there are generally two kinds of authors–those who plot and those who fly by the seats of their pants.

One isn’t necessarily better than the other, as long as you get the job done. But recently I’ll confess to taking more time at the composition pad while working through a story to work out the minor details. It helps to keep things in order, so you don’t get confused and don’t deviate from the story. That’s not to say I’ll have it all planned out, or that I’ll know exactly where I’m going, but I’ll give myself a general idea and see where it takes me.

Recently, I’ve become fascinated by the process of story boarding. Many authors like to plot their work out scene for scene. I don’t know if I could ever do it, but it seems to be a great way to piece the puzzle together and make work as seamless as possible. When I first read about it, I couldn’t help but think about the movies. You have a script, you plot it out, and you set the scene. It can’t be all bad, right? Even better? There is actually a program you can use to help you along that path if you choose to take it.

So tell me, do any of you storyboard? If so, do you find that it helps you in your work? Or are you like me? Do you love flying by the seat of those blue-jeans?


Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Tuesday Spotlight: J.A. Saare

Praise it Forward

When I first started submitting my work, a very good friend gave me one solid piece of advice: Be gracious. As a journalist, she warned that anything that is creative can and will receive criticism.

“It’s the way you handle yourself that will matter most,” she warned. “The action is nothing. It’s all about the reaction.”

At the time, I took the words at face value but didn’t give them proper consideration. If I didn’t get accepted, no big deal, right? Writing is subjective. We all have our own personal tastes and preferences in movies, theater, and music. Then, a few months later, I got the biggest wake-up call of my life. It was one of the most nasty rejection letters you can imagine. It wasn’t over my material, but rather, a glitch in my e-mail. Apparently, the query didn’t attach, and I sent the first line of my proposal but nothing more. Being referred to as a moron wasn’t very nice. I remember being so angry I was actually trembling. I wanted to email the woman and give her a tongue lashing of equal measure, as well an explanation of what transpired.

Instead, I called my friend.

“This is the very thing I was telling you about,” she told me calmly. “Handle yourself professionally. This is business. Just because she handled it inappropriately, doesn’t mean you have to as well.”

So, I sat down, responded in a very cordial tone, thanked the woman for her time, and apologized for the glitch. Then, I continued on with business as usual, and eventually got over it.

I’ve had other instances when I’ve been tempted to speak out of turn, or to confront a nasty nellie. A stab to the pride–be it from a snarky review or a disgruntled agent–is painful. But when I’m close to sprouting horns and going Linda Blair, I remember that if I turn to the dark side and rant like a mad woman, that’s something people won’t forget. A little miscommunication or an error on my part is forgivable, but never unprofessional behavior. And do you know how I remove the nastiness that taints my goodwill to others?

I send praise forward.

Each time I read a story or book I truly enjoy, especially from e-book authors, I’ll send a simple email and thank them for it. 99.9% of the time, I get a very sweet response in turn, thanking me for brightening their day. It makes them happy, and in turn it makes me happy for them. There’s nothing like sending a little praise forward. I’ve even made new friends along the way.

Just a little something to think about.

Happy Reading!

Jaime AKA J.A. Saare

Monday, October 12, 2009

Monday Spotlight: J.A. Saare

If I have one rule when it comes to writing, it’s this–keep doing it. Oftentimes, real life stress or other commitments force those all important creative juices to stall. It happens to the best of us, and sometimes it’s best to go with the flow. But that doesn’t mean you don’t have tools at your disposal to keep the mind sharp and the words flowing. Here are a few things I do when the reserves are dried up and I need to keep on track.

Start a blog

Sounds easy, right? That’s because it is. And better still? It’s fun! Share the inner workings of your brain with the world. It will give readers an insight into who you are and will keep those thoughts a whirling.

Get down with some flash

Flash fiction is an awesome way to stretch the mind and learn the value of tightly written work. Set a word limit, choose a theme, and stick to it. It’s a great exercise, one that can be used to your advantage if you enter contests. I have two shorts that have been contracted in this way.

Visit the author blogs you enjoy and partake in the topic at hand by leaving a comment

There is nothing as daunting as facing a group of your peers and having your voice heard. But if you want to sound smart, yet approachable, you’re less likely to type something up and slap it onto a blog of someone you admire. This is a great way to focus on what you want to say and condense it into a small paragraph or two. You’ll also make new friends in the process.

Make it an experiment in fun

Want to know a little secret? I write picture books for my seven-year old daughter. I create the stories (she’s the heroine, of course), draw the illustrations, print it out, and slap it into one of those nifty plastic folders with the sliding grip. It’s not Junie B. Jones, but if my daughter is happy with it, so am I. Why? It’s a great escape, forces me to write for the target audience, and allows me to relax. Not interested in that? Then try writing something else you might not usually: poetry, horror, sci-fi. The shift will be sure to challenge you, and when you write for fun, you have nothing to lose.

Keep Writing

Even if you don’t want to and the day is crap, write something. It can be a paragraph, a few sentences, or an entry in a journal. The point is to keep the motherboard in check. Sometimes, you’ll break through and it will be gravy. Other times, you’ll trudge through it and praise a higher power when you’re finished. Either way, it’s always good to be on top of your game.

Now that I’ve shared, why don’t you do the same? How do you keep writing fresh? I can’t wait to read your comments and suggestions!

Jaime AKA J.A. Saare