Friday 27 July 2012

Surrender To His Charms

Surrender To His Charms
Surrender Series Part 4 - Finale


About: The erotic, engrossing conclusion to the Surrender series. Charlotte Hanson has taken a job as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvaldov. After her first performance inside the Sanctuary sex resort, fists fly in a altercation between Dmitri and his brother Yuri. The Russian billionaire comes clean with her about his manipulative sibling and the woman Yuri stole from him. Charlotte wonders if she can ever possess Dmitri's heart, or will this former love, and his brother's cruelty, always haunt him? Charlotte also explores her dominant side.

Excerpt:
As Mildred, Ryan, and I drew close to Dmitri and his brother, their heated words became clear.

"I don't believe it," Dmitri said, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "I know too well how you work, Yuri, and I won't let you see her."

Yuri exposed white, clenched teeth as he hissed in return, "You can't stop me from seeing my own mother. I've spoken to Father, and he encouraged me to go. He also wanted me to reconcile with you, but I can see that's going nowhere. Look, I know I've asked you for a lot of second chances, but--"

Dmitri cut off his words by stepping so close they were nose to nose. "How's Astrid these days?"

Yuri's fists tightened at his sides. "She left me. But that's--"

This time it was Dmitri's laughter that interrupted him. "Karma, my dear brother. Karma."

"For cripes's sake, Dmitri." Yuri grabbed his shoulder when he went to turn and walk away. "This isn't about our past quarrels. This is about our dying mother."

"Past quarrels?" He whirled back on him, and I began to run in time with Mildred as his meaty fist came up. "You stole the woman I loved."

We arrived too late. Dmitri's fist lashed out lightning quick, delivering a powerful jab to Yuri's nose. Blood flew, spattering Dmitri's still bare chest, staining Yuri's shirt and suit jacket . His brother nearly fell over the side of a seat from the force of the blow. He covered his dripping nostrils and glared up at his enraged sibling.

"Break it up, you two," Mildred said, getting between the pair.

I went to help the fallen man to his feet.

"Get away from him right now, Charlotte," Dmitri snarled.

I looked at him, shocked by the ferocity in his trembling voice. I'd never seen him so full of wrath. I didn't know much about the history between him and his brother, but I had heard the comment from Dmitri: You stole the woman I loved.

Available On Kindle US
Available On Kindle UK

Available On Kobo
Available On Nook
Available on Smashwords 

Thursday 26 July 2012

Writer's Guest Room: Eyes Wide Open by Jay Ellison

Hey, Readers & Authors!

Wild & Lawless Writers are pleased to have our first guest, Jay Ellison, in the new Writer's Guest Room. Jay is our friend from Courtesan Press, and he writes steamy, romantic m/m fiction you should definitely check out. Here's a tasty excerpt from his Dollhouse series.


Eyes Wide Open
(The Dollhouse Society)
Jay Ellison

About:  Discover the secret behind the mysterious Dollhouse Society…

College student Daniel Collins takes on a weekend job as a “human seeing-eye dog” to blind, retired billionaire Alexei Karenina. It seems like easy work, and Mr. Karenina is certainly easy on the eyes, but when Mr. Karenina proposes that Daniel also become his courtier–his male sexual companion–Daniel’s eyes are opened to a new world of pleasure…and pain. 

Excerpt: “Maybe he’s an asexual,” Sheri mused beside me in the lecture hall while I half listened to Professor Linden droning on about the ancient economy of Mesopotamia and how it affected us today. “Maybe that’s his problem.”

“What the hell’s an asexual?” I said as I doodled on a corner of my notebook. 

“You know. A guy who doesn’t like sex.”

“I don’t think that exists,” I told Sheri. 

I looked out over the lecture hall and found Simon sitting near the front. He was here at Columbia like me on scholarship, but it was a football scholarship, not the World Leader Scholarship I’d gotten for my paper on economics. I wondered if he got teased a lot, being a jock with a name like Simon. He paid me to edit his papers, along with a bunch of other students, but other than that, we’d never had a real conversation or anything, even though the rumor went that he didn’t have a girlfriend. And all jocks have girlfriends, right? Unless they’re queer as fuck.

I was still thinking about that when Sheri kicked my seat and said, “Earth to Daniel. You gonna stop daydreaming about your toy boy and get a coffee with me or what?”

Professor Linden was done and students were drifting out of the lecture hall and I hadn’t even noticed. I jumped up and said, “Actually, I’ve got an interview for a job this afternoon.” 

Sheri raised her eyebrows. “You still editing? ‘Cause I got a few papers for you to look at.”

“It’s a weekend type of thing. In-home care,” I explained as we exited Stafford Hall. I yanked my jacket closed against the blustery chill and adjusted the strap of my shoulder pack. It had been hot for most of September, but now it was definitely starting to feel like fall. I thought again how the east was totally like Jekyll and Hyde, one extreme or the other. 

We checked out Simon and his pack of jocks as they headed for the Stadium, probably to warm up for tonight’s game against Rutgers. I didn’t actually like football but I always showed up for the games to watch Simon play. “You gonna talk to him already?” Sheri asked as she loosened her uniform tie. “You know in this town the country mouse attitude doesn’t get you anything but the back of the line.”

The thing with Sheri was, she didn’t mess around, which is why I liked her. She was forward and a little pushy while I was quite and docile. Almost from the first day I’d landed in New York, she’d taken me under her wing. I knew that if she’d liked Simon, she would have already “bagged and tagged” him, as she liked to call it. With her blonde, cheerleader good looks, that probably wouldn’t have been a problem. Sheri had like fifteen exes on the school campus alone, and every last one still wanted to get with her. 

“Yeah,” I said, watching Simon’s fine ass. “Eventually.”

“When the moon is in the right phrase.”
 
“Shut up!”

“Okay, so you won’t talk to Simon and have a real weekend life, but you’re willing to take care of some old dude,” she said when we reached the parking lot. She shook her head with exasperation. “Makes sense to me.” 

She made it sound like it was a job scrubbing toilets or something. But Sheri and her friends were loaded, so what did they know about trying to make it in an Ivy League school like Columbia on a scholarship and student loans? 

I shrugged. I’d taken care of my dad through his chemo treatments. I didn’t see how this was any different. Besides, the last email I’d gotten from my mom had been a little disturbing. My dad had been laid off from his job for reasons that just didn’t add up but screamed liability, and the six months of his worker’s comp was quickly running out. Mom finally admitted that they were “a little behind on the mortgage,” and she was looking for work in town, but I knew her arthritis was going to make that nearly impossible. Apparently, the money I sent home every month didn’t amount to shit anymore. My mom hadn’t said that, of course, but I was smart enough to read between the lines. 

So I wheeled some old guy around a couple days a week. The pay was good. And it would leave me plenty of free time to edit papers or just try to think of ways of talking to Simon without sounding like some brainless dolt. How hard could that be?

***

The address was for an old, stone, south-facing townhouse on a quaint, tree-lined street in the heart of the West Village, the kind of place Manhattan billionaires retired to when they fell on hard times and had to sell that third vacation home in the French Riviera. I got off the bus and went up to the big, wrought-iron gates surrounding the property and wondered what my chances here were of being arrested for vagrancy. 

The call box sprang to life and I jumped as a female voice said, “Thanks for coming. Daniel, right? Go around to the west entrance, will you?”

“Okay,” I said into the box, then realized I had to hold a button down and repeat myself.

The gate clicked open and I let myself in and followed a long, curved, cobblestone path around the side of the house to what I assumed was the west entrance, surrounded by a gigantic stone pavilion. A young woman in her early twenties stood by some French doors. She was tall, model thin, with short black hair and almost black eyes. She had a pretty, horsey face and amazing cheekbones, like some European actress I didn’t know but should. “Thanks for coming by, Daniel. Did you find the house all right?”

“Sure,” I said, big talker that I am, and followed her inside to an industrial-sized kitchen with stone walls and all stainless steel appliances. I thought how my mom would get such a kick from a kitchen like this.

“I’m Kate. You’re an undergraduate?”

“Yeah,” I said, and kept looking around the place, which looked like a poised magazine layout. I finally snapped my attention back to Kate so I didn’t come off as too ghetto. At least, that’s what Sheri always said. Don’t look around rich folks’ pads because it makes you look ghetto. Or, in my case, country mouse. I shook Kate’s hand and said, “From Columbia.” 

“Ivy League,” she said and whistled. “I bet you’re super smart. This job must sound pretty boring to you.”

“I took care of my dad,” I said. 

“Was he disabled?”

“Cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool,” I said, and slid my hands into the pockets of my jacket. “He’s okay now.”

“Does he live in the city?”

I didn’t want to say he lived in Kansas with my other family, so I just said, “No. He’s out in the country.” 

Kate nodded and led me into a gigantic living room done in royal red with vaulted ceilings and Greek statues. Wow. “I wish I could get my dad to move out to the country. I have a house out in Martha’s Vineyard? But Da’s a stubborn old codger. When he first came to this country, he settled here in New York, and now he won’t leave it at all. He says the house reminds him too much of my mother, who passed on a few years ago.” 

“I’m sorry,” I said. “He’s the one you need in-home care for?”

“Yes. Da’s disabled. I mean, he’s fine around the house, and he can manage if he goes into the office, but I don’t like him going out on his own. I landed a gig with the new X-Files reboot that’s filming in Vancouver? So I won’t be down here in the city to look after him that much. You understand.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. No wonder Kate looked familiar. I think I recognized her from a sitcom I’d seen one night. Shit, a celebrity. I wondered if it would be impolite to ask her for her autograph. Up ahead I spotted a pair of big, oaken double doors. Faint strands of classical music drifted from the room. “Is your dad an actor too?” I asked.

“No. Da’s in container shipping. Have you heard of NorthStar?”

“Oh yeah,” I said.  

“He stepped down as CEO about ten years ago, when things started getting hard for him, but he still has controlling interest, and he likes to go into the office on Saturdays and look things over. Do you think you could handle taking him into the city?”

“Sure,” I said. 

“He also likes to visit with his friends.”

“Okay,” I said. The old guy sounded pretty active. And if he wanted to sit around Central Park and play checkers with some old dudes or feed pigeons or whatever, that was fine. I figured I could do my papers or editing while I waited. 

Kate pushed the doors open and we stepped into a gigantic conservatory with a glass ceiling. The music hit me full on, the kind of rolling crescendo you normally only hear from concern pianists. I worked at keeping my jaw from dropping to my shoes while Kate led me across the hardwood floor to a giant black grand piano where her father sat playing. “Da, I’d like you to meet Daniel Collins. He’s here to look after you.” She hugged the man at the piano and kissed him on the cheek. “Daniel, this is my dad, Alexei Karenina.” Her cell went off then and she snatched it up. “I’ll let you two get acquainted while I take that,” she said and excused herself from the room. 

Holy Christ, I thought as my heart stopped for one second in my chest, and then, as if to make up for it, started galloping like crazy. I gripped the straps of my pack and just stared at Kate’s dad, who’d stopped playing the moment we’d stepped into the room. He looked like a forty-something, male version of his daughter, tall and slim in his dark suit, with a lean, angular face and those incredible actor cheekbones and almost pitch black eyes. His black hair was brushed neatly back away from his face, with just a few strands of virile grey at the temple, and the lashes that framed his eyes were dark and lush, like the little hairs along the backs of his hands.

“Daniel Collins,” he said, staring at me somewhat blankly.

“Yes, sir,” I said.  

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three,” I told him. “I go to Columbia. I’m studying economics. I’m hoping to land a job with a firm as a CPA one day,” I babbled on. 

Shit. I never babbled until I saw a hot guy. Then I couldn’t shut up. 

He blinked. “I didn’t ask what you’re studying or what your plans were. I just asked your age.”
I flushed at the steel in Mr. Karenina’s voice. “Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Because you’re studying economics? Or because you want to be a CPA?”

“No,” I immediately answered. “I mean…never mind.”

Mr. Karenina gave me a cold look out of those dead, unblinking eyes and reached for a bottle of expensive scotch sitting atop the piano. Jesus, great going Daniel, I thought. Retarded much? I watched him stick two fingers into a tumbler and pour until the amber liquid reached the halfway line. Then he got up and carried the tumbler across the room, navigating with amazing accuracy for a blind guy. He reached a dark, plush, leather sofa opposite a wicker chair and sat down. “Are you going to hover or are we going to conduct this interview?”

The steely sound of Mr. Karenina’s voice made me flinch inside. He rolled his “R’s” and clipped the ends of his sentences. I though German, at first, then figured, Karenina…must be Russian. He sounded like a fucking drill sergeant from the Soviet Union. Comrade, we are Red partisans, and we SHOOT deserters!

I went over to the wicker chair and dropped down, my pack at my feet. 

Mr. Karenina sat there opposite me, his dead black gaze centered just a few inches below my chin. I felt the sudden, intense need to stick my tongue out and cross my eyes at him. “What did Kate tell you about the job?”

“She said I was to look after you, take you into the city sometimes.” 

He sipped his drink and then rested the tumbler on his thigh. He sat with his legs slightly spread apart, so I checked out his package. I figured why the hell not? It wasn’t like Mr. Karenina was in a position to notice. His suit was nicely fitted, obviously tailor-made, making a pleasant enough bulge in his pants. It reminded me of a good underwear ad, where the model’s briefs are just tight enough to rub and keep the cock semi-erect. 

Mr. Karenina had said something and it took me a moment to backtrack and figure out what it was.

“Do you know how to walk a room properly?”

“Sure,” I said. “Um…what do you mean?”

Mr. Karenina gave me a grave look of disapproval. “I’m looking for someone to walk the rooms of the house and make certain everything is in its proper place and there are no obvious tripping hazards. My housekeeper has a tendency to move things around on me, which, frankly, annoys me.” 

I had a feeling that a lot of things annoyed Mr. Karenina. I rolled my eyes but said, “I can do that.”

“Don’t bother with the sarcastic gestures, young man. It’s a waste of energy where I’m concerned.”

The fuck…? “Sorry.”

“Are you going to keep apologizing the whole time?”

“Sor—no,” I said. I shut my mouth.

“I’ll need you on Saturdays and Sundays, from eleven in the morning until six in the evening. Is that a problem?”

“No.”

“You have no life to speak of?”

My body flushed with anger. I almost said something rude and obnoxious, but I’d been raised better than that. Three years in New York hadn’t changed me that much. “I’m available to do the job, Mr. Karenina. That’s why I’m applying.”

“You sound angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“What kind of accent is that? Midwest…Kansas City?”

“Manhattan…Kansas.”

“Ah. What are you doing here, Daniel? Aside from studying economics and dreaming of being a CPA? What do you think New York has to offer you?”

I sat in silence. I had no intention of rationalizing myself to Mr. Karenina. 

“Now you’re angry again.”

“I’m not angry,” I insisted, a little too angrily. I grabbed at my pack, finally ready to stand up and get the hell out of here. Mr. Karenina was a total dick, and if I wanted this kind of abuse, I could just as well phone home and talk to my dad.

But before I could go for the door, he said, “Can I see you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Touch your face.”

The request made something jump uncomfortably inside of me. Normally, a hot guy wanting to touch me would make for a very happy Daniel, but I’d decided I didn’t like Mr. Karenina, hot or not. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“A defensive little bitch.”

I stared at him long and hard. Who the hell did he think he was? I marched over to Mr. Karenina and dropped my pack. I stood there. “So touch me.”

“Kneel down.”

“No.”

“Then leave.”

Fuck me. I thought about laying into the guy, telling him he was an overbearing prick, but Kate was offering a lot of money to take care of the old bastard. Enough to fill in the gaps during the winter semester. Enough to send a little home. And, I reminded myself, it was only two days a week.

I knelt down on the floor at Mr. Karenina’s feet so we were almost eye-to-eye and I was inches away from his crotch. This close, I could feel his heat. Mr. Karenina shifted the tumbler of scotch to the table beside the chair and reached out both hands to touch my face. His expression remained impassive as he set his big, heavy hands on my cheeks, then brushed his thumbs over my fluttering eyes and down to my mouth. He had slim hands, pianists hands, and a gentler touch than I’d expected. His thumbs brushed across my lips, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. He grunted, though I had no idea if it was a sound of approval or indifference. 

He put his hands back on the armrests of the chair. Kneeling in front of him, I noticed the bulge in his fine, tailored pants had grown substantially in the last few minutes. “You’ll begin this Saturday,” he told me. “Don’t be late. Now leave.”

Definitely the weirdest interview of my life. 

***

Like what you read here? Head over to the book page for Eyes Wide Open at Courtesan Press. Be sure to check out all their tempting offerings while you're there! 



*** 

Authors, would you like to be a guest in the Writer's Guest Room? Send us an email at: anitalawless@gmail.com  We look forward to hosting you soon! Writer's Guest Room will be an informal feature on the blog which will run at random times, but authors may request specific dates as well. 

 Have a great Thursday, everyone! Weekend's almost here!

Wednesday 25 July 2012

Anita & C.J. At Kobo

Hey readers!

Now you can grab all of C.J. and Anita's titles at Kobo. Clicky the links below to visit C.J. or Anita's full list of available stories.

Anita On Kobo
C.J. On Kobo

And C.J. thanks you for the downloads! He made just over 300, but he promises he'll get his butt working on that werewolf series soon, just the same.

And many thanks from me and C.J. on the recent sales, readers! We love that you love our smut.

Anita xo


Saturday 21 July 2012

Surrender To His Desires

Surrender To His Desires
Surrender Series Part 3

About:  Charlotte Hanson has taken a job as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvaldov. Tonight he's going to introduce her to playtime inside the Surrender Sanctuary, an elite resort where the owners of Surrender Inc., a sex resort franchise, come to engage in sex games. But there are a few surprises in store for Dmitri and Charlotte, particularly when someone from Dmitri's past shows up at the end of their show.

Excerpt:

I woke up in a massive bed, sliding over silk sheets, while large fingers teased my nipples to stiff peaks. Surprisingly, after our rope play the previous evening, my wrists and ankles bore no marks or burns. I felt a little stiff from our ardent game, where Dmitri made me into a living sculpture by intricately weaving knots all over my body. But the memory of swaying freely inside the hemp swing while we had passionate sex made my minor muscle aches worth it.

"We have to be at work soon," I murmured, after peeling open one eye to glance at the clock. Although we did have plenty of time. His first patient came in at ten, and it was seven now.

The advantage of being your own boss," he said, then paused to flick his tongue over my other nipple, teasing it to attention also. "Is you can be late and no one reprimands you."

He lavished more attention on my breasts, but this time he used gentle strokes. There was passion, of course, but it was of a tender nature this morning. Fingers replaced his tongue, and he tweaked and rolled the now throbbing tips until my breath grew shallow and labored. The sensation woke a fire between my legs, making my clit pulse as it yearned to be touched.
"Are we going to play then?" I looked down at him, watching as he took the nipple between his teeth this time, pulling until my breast rose up from my chest. The sharp sting of his bite was not unpleasant. I gasped when he rapidly flit his tongue back and forth over the hard peak.

"Let's just keep this session unofficial. An off the clock quickie." He smiled up at me before feathering tender kisses down my torso. Then he drew up on his knees and began stroking the length of my damp slit, lightly rubbing my clit, while he watched my face for reaction. "Only I should warn you, a quickie is rarely that quick with me."

Available On Kindle US
Available On Kindle UK
Available On Nook
Available on Smashwords



And C.J. thanks you for the downloads, readers! He's currently sitting at #1107. Help him get 500 downloads or more, and get him in the top 100, then he'll release his upcoming werewolf series early. Trust me, it'll be worth it!

Jack The Lad FREE Until July 25!

 James attends his sister's wedding reception, where he tries to avoid the father he hasn't spoken to in six years by ducking outside. Behind a restaurant, he meets chaos in gaudy plaid pants and platform boots. A wild boy who goes by the name of Jack. Up against a brick wall, Jack takes James on a feral ride he'll never forget.

 http://www.amazon.com/Jack-The-Lad-ebook/dp/B007IOGY38

Have a wonderful day, readers! Hope you get up to some naughty fun in the sun.

Anita xo

Friday 20 July 2012

Jack The Lad FREE for 5 Days!

Jack The Lad FREE Until July 25!

C.J. decided his readers needed a treat from him now. No waiting, he said! So now you can grab the first part of the Jack The Lad series for FREE on Kindle.

Click on the link above, the book cover, or follow the link below to get your free read.

http://www.amazon.com/Jack-The-Lad-ebook/dp/B007IOGY38

C.J. also promises that he'll release his upcoming werewolf series early if he gets 500 downloads!




Also, don't forget you can grab Anita's Sibling Jealousy for FREE for another 4 days as well.  Click on the cover or link to grab one.

http://www.amazon.com/Oh-Brother-Sibling-Jealousy-ebook/dp/B0079X6VRM

Hope your having a great summer, readers! xo

Thursday 19 July 2012

Pumping Andre

Pumping Andre
C.J. Sneere

About: Jacob is on the prowl for a pick up. Don't mistake him for a player, though. He's careful when he scopes out prime man meat. He brings home a quiet French Canadian named Andre, who's a cross between demure school boy and bad boy biker. However, a surprise greets Jacob Monday morning, when he finds Andre is now an employee of the gym he also works at, and his hook up seems less than happy to see him. Sparks fly and things get hot and sweaty in the locker room.

Excerpt: The lights dimmed as the strobes flashed on. People hooted as the next song kicked in, and colored spotlights swept the club's dance floor.

I scanned the selection of prime man meat. Now, don't think I'm a player. Really, I'm not. I know this club well. I come here often just to hang, since some of my friends tend bar here. And when I do pick up, I always ask around about my potential one night stand. I never bring home blind. That and I'm a firm proponent of: "No glove, no love."

I'm told I resemble Wesley Snipes with a dash of Denzel Washington, but I've never been able to see it. I've always thought I'm a pretty decent looking guy. My job as a personal trainer keeps me in good shape, but I've never really been the obsessive type. Working out and creating work outs for people is meditative for me. I guess it's my form of deep relaxation. Plus, helping folks get healthy is always cool.

"What about that one over there?" I asked Mickey, my blue eyed, Nordic looking friend. He looked up from the glass he was drying and gazed in the direction I pointed.

He nodded appreciatively. "Good choice, Jacob. From what I hear, the guy's quiet, but not creepy quiet. I think Malcolm knows him from his old gym. Nice enough. Stays to himself mostly. Comes in alone, leaves alone. But I have seen him in here with a couple of friends on a few occasions."

The guy sat in a corner booth. He nursed a whiskey and soda and thumbed through a book. He had short, chocolate brown hair and wore thin rimmed glasses. As I drew closer to his table, he looked up, and I noticed his eyes were a shade of blue even lighter than Mickey's. When he caught sight of me, he gave a small, almost shy smile then returned to his novel.

I slipped into the booth, but didn’t get too close right away. He seemed skittish. "Hey, I'm Jacob. Haven't seen you around here much. New to the area?"

He closed his book and gave me a quick up and down before flashing another shy grin. "Andre." He held out his hand and I shook it. "I've been in the area for a while, but I'm fairly new to this place. A friend of mine told me about it. Said it wasn't too loud, had a nice atmosphere. I can actually hear myself think over the music, which I like."

I chuckled. "Yeah, this has been my regular place to unwind for a while. What're you reading?"

His face lit with enthusiasm as he showed me the cover. "Oscar Wilde."

"Dorian Gray." I nodded appreciatively. "Haven't read that in so long. I love a good story with Faustian themes."

Available On Kindle US
Available On Kindle UK
Available On Nook
Available On Kobo
Available On Smashwords


***

And be sure to grab Anita' FREE title at Amazon, Sibling Jealousy! If she makes 500 downloads, C.J. will release one of his titles for FREE too.


 Sibling Jealousy: FREE for 5 days!
Another way to say thank you for all the support & sales, readers! xo







Tuesday 17 July 2012

Wild & Lawless Titles At Kobo

Hey readers!

Now you can grab Wild and Lawless titles from Kobo. Click the covers below to go to the purchase pages. We'll be uploading more titles tomorrow, so keep checking Kobo for more from Anita and C.J.

Anita's Titles On Kobo











C.J.'s Titles On Kobo



Friday 13 July 2012

Hostage Of Lust FREE for 5 Days!

Hostage Of Lust FREE until July 18!

Click on the link above, the book cover, or follow the link below to get your free read. Anita wanted to thank readers for her sales with a special July treat.


http://www.amazon.com/Hostage-Of-Lust-ebook/dp/B008BD33I4


About: Jim "Big Man" Davies is on a mission to save his marriage. This now retired pro-wrestler fears his wife has fallen for a much younger man. So, one weekend, he decides it's time to play the game. A role playing scenario his wife, Tara, has always fantasized about. Armed with manacles, a blindfold, and sex toys galore, he only hopes she'll fall back in love with him when he's through with her…

Thursday 12 July 2012

New Review For Jack The Lad

Much thanks goes out to Naoko Smith for her recent review of Jack The Lad. Please visit the link in this paragraph, or the link below, to read Naoko's thoughts, and be sure to take a look at Naoko's works, too, while you are there.

 http://feministerotica.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/jack-lad-review.html

You can grab Jack The Lad now on Kindle, BN, or Smashwords. Or pick up the complete collection, The Story Of Jack & James, also available now at our three outlets.


 
And please come visit the site tomorrow, for Anita has a special treat to share with readers.
 
Thank you for all the sales & support! We all appreciate it greatly.
 
C.J.

Wednesday 11 July 2012

The Story Of Jack And James

The Story Of Jack And James
The Complete Jack The Lad Series


About: The Story Of Jack and James, the complete Jack The Lad series, includes:

Jack The Lad
Jack & James
In Jack's Bed
Jack's Betrayal
Jack's Bachelor Party
Bonus Story: The Wedding Of Jack & James


Bonus story blurb: You're invited to the wedding of Jack and James. The day of their nuptials includes a quickie before the ceremony and a showdown with an drunken, dejected father. Please join the partners later, in their honeymoon suite, for chocolate eaten off of heated skin and tasty body paint.

Bonus story excerpt:

"So Anthony's in jail?" I asked Darby, while I fumbled with my bow tie.

He rubbed another dollop of gel into Jack's hair as he replied. "Well, out on bail now. Him and that big bear thug of his. Apparently they ambushed the two strippers, beat the poor bastards to a pulp, and then tied them up behind the bar. Good thing I phoned the guy I booked them through right after we threw Anthony outta the club. Those guys could've spent all night out there, and Anthony and his thug left them in nothing but a g-string."

"When's the court date?" Taylor, Bayside Punks' lead guitarist, piped up, walking over to help me with that damnable bow tie as he did so.

"Not sure," Darby said, following up with a "Sorry," when Jack grumbled "Oww, be gentle with that comb."

"Karma," I said, smiling and thanking Taylor for the help. "I can't believe Anthony went to such lengths to ruin our bachelor party."

Jack's ex-lover, Anthony Cabella, tried to crash our bachelor party by ambushing our entertainment for the night, tying them up behind our friend Darby's bar, and then strolling in the venue posing as the entertainment himself. It had ended in a fist fight between myself and Anthony. Violence also broke out between Anthony's thug, a huge beast of a man, and Jack plus his band mates. Now the strippers and their management were pressing charges against him and his thug, and I couldn't be happier. Whether petty of me or not, I didn't want to see that scheming pair get away with it. Not to mention they'd beaten Jack up in an alley only a few days before this, so I enjoyed the retribution Universe heaped on Anthony's plate.

Darby stood back to admire his handiwork. "Ah, you look killer, Jack." He lightly touched the top of my fiance's spiked, blond hair. "And you could bounce a ball off that 'do, so the wind won't ruin my expertise."

Jack laughed and shook his head. "I'll need James to help me wash this mountain of gunk out later tonight."

Darby waggled his eyebrows. "I'm sure you two will get up to more than that in the honeymoon suite." Then he turned to Taylor and Corey, patted Corey's rump, and said, "C'mon, let's give the pair some alone time before the ceremony starts." They left the room, but Darby poked his head back in long enough to say, "You both look sizzling hot."

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Thursday 5 July 2012

Surrender To Her Master

Surrender To Her Master
Surrender Series Part 2

About:  Charlotte Hanson has accepted a job as sex mistress to Russian billionaire Dmitri Nichvalodov, and now her first week in this new position begins. After setting her father up in an expensive senior care home, Dmitri takes Charlotte shopping for lingerie. Then he introduces her to Japanese bondage art known as Shibari, or Kinbaku, and she becomes his living sculpture of rope and bliss.

This series contains consensual BDSM role playing between adults over 18 years of age. This story contains explicit sex acts, and is intended for an audience 18 years of age or older.

Excerpt: "So, how do you feel about all this?"

Dad gave me a smile that seemed full of the vigor he once held. For a moment, he became that tough as nails cop with a sympathetic center he only showed to me and his closest friends. Not the withered shell of himself that I knew struck a blow to his pride. My heart filled with hope and love for him.

"You know, kiddo, I never believed much in miracles," he said. "But this…maybe this is our miracle. Maybe, sometimes, you get lucky."

"So you think I should go for it?" I came and sat beside him on the couch, checked his oxygen machine as I did often.

"Damn rights you should go for it." He sat up straighter. His soft brown eyes flared with determination. "You can't pass up an opportunity like this. Personal assistant to one of the richest men in the world. You gotta take it."

"According to Forbes, he's only the tenth richest man in the world." I gave Dad a cheeky smirk and he waved me off, calling me a wiseass while sporting a return smirk.

"Let's face it, Charlotte." His face became a map of wrinkles as his expression grew serious. "I know looking after me is getting harder and harder for you. This guy is willing to set me up in the ritziest senior care community in the city. That and the job, traveling all over the world with him, you'd be a fool to let that go, sweetheart."

"Taking care of you isn't hard." I squeezed his hand. He gave me one of those 'I know you're lying' looks. But handing over Dad's care to someone else admittedly made me nervous. After all, he'd always been there for me. When I was four, Mom went out to get her hair done with the girls, and she never returned. Dad had been my mother and father ever since. Sure, he'd tried to remarry, but working in homicide and raising a daughter had made it hard to socialize, and Dad's line of work sometimes scared women off. I often told him I didn't need another parent. He was all I needed.

He took both my hands in his. "Do this for you and me, Charlotte, please?"

I hadn't told my dad the true nature of the job I'd be accepting with Dmitri Nichvalodov. Two days ago, my boss, a prominent sex therapist and well known billionaire, had propositioned me to be his mistress. Currently I was his secretary, and would remain so, but this promotion--if I could call it that--promised top of the line care for my father, and all my financial needs would be met by the generous salary. The feminist in me warred with the pragmatist, but for Dad I had to take this job. His care was growing difficult and would get pricier. There was no alternative. However, Dmirtri wasn't hard on the eyes, so that was another added bonus.

"Okay." I kissed Dad's dry, papery soft forehead. "With your blessing, I'll do this."

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Also Available from Anita Lawless:


Surrender To A Sex Therapist
Naughty Relations
Oh! Brother: Sibling Sexcapades
Rock 'N' Roll Step Dads: Sex With The Bands
Friendly Enemies Smutfest
Oh! Brother: Sibling Sexilogue
Betting On Sex
Hostage Of Lust