Sunday, 30 September 2012

Welcome Author Laurel Cremant

Tell us a bit about yourself and what made you want to become a writer?

Laurel: I live in Miami, Florida and am not afraid to admit to an obsession with sexy shoes and a love of all things techy. Yes I’m a bit of a geek and I’m not afraid to show it. I’m also addicted to reading and writing. I’ve always had different stories and characters running around inside my head. For years I would jot down little notes and blurbs about them in random journals here and there. I literally had (and still do) voices in my head in a totally non serial killer like capacity. A few years ago the voices finally just got way too loud and I decided to finally start writing their stories down to make them stop and I’ve been happy ever since! Now that I’ve started I can’t believe I waited so long. I feel like a missing piece of my soul has finally fallen into place. I know that sounds corny but it’s totally true. I felt the same way when I met my husband. I’m literally in love with writing!
What’s your favorite type of romance to read and write?

Laurel: Right now I tend to gravitate towards erotic contemporary and paranormal reads with strong H/H characters. I used the love the plain Jane meets hot boss scenarios growing up and reading Harlequins. As I got older (and hopefully wiser) I wanted my heroines to have more backbone and self confidence. So I admit I tend to write my women strong, confident and a bit snarky. Don’t get me wrong, my female characters aren’t superheroes, they have their own sets of vulnerabilities and hang ups just like anyone else. Otherwise what would be the fun of seeing them get together with their heroes? It would be as bland as a Paris Hilton sex tape. Besides I don’t believe that all heroes fall only for damsels in distress. I think a real alpha loves a good chase and the challenge of holding on to a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to declare or take it.

So all that being said, what types of heroes and heroines do you like best?

Laurel: Oh I do so love a yummy alpha male! There is just something about a man who has competence, confidence and can take charge of a situation. He doesn’t have to be rich (although that always helps) but he does need to have a big heart and be someone my heroine can fall in love with. I tend to write strong heroines to match my heroes. I see no point in wasting a good alpha male on some simpering girl who can’t make up her mind or find her way out of a paper bag. When I was a kid my Barbies hung out with G.I. Joes not Ken. All Ken did was ride around in Barbie’s car and play tennis all day. At least my Joes weren’t wimpy and had some form of purpose in life. If my heroines are going to let a man pick them up and fuck them senseless it won’t be the bored trust fund baby with a limp handshake.

 Tell us a bit about your new release Negotiating Skills.

Laurel: Negotiating Skills is an erotic novella that really started as a result of a conversation I had with a friend where I stated how much I love a good office romance. I wanted to write a story where the heroine wasn’t the expected assistant to the millionaire and thus Victor Rossi and Veronica James were born. Veronica is a software programmer who gets trapped in her biggest client’s office late one night and ends up witnessing him in an (ahem) compromising situation. She can’t afford to lose his business and Victor sees the situation as a way to get her to finally admit her attraction to him. Thankfully being the good alpha male that he is, Victor sets about convincing Veronica that the only way for they’re working relationship to be on even ground again is for her to make a few sexy concessions. This book was extremely fun to write. It’s a slight twist on the classic plain Jane model, with Veronica being more than capable of turning the tables on Victor and his sexy version negotiating. 

What are you working on now and what should readers be looking forward to from you in the future?

Laurel: After some amazing reader feedback I’ve decided to make Negotiating Skills the first book in a series of erotic office romance novellas. The series will be titled Boardroom. The next book in the series is tentatively titled High Stakes and will be out in November. I’m also finishing up the first book in my How To series, titled How to Kill Your Immortal. It’s a paranormal romance that takes place in Miami. You can find excerpts of the book on my website. I’m really excited about both books and can’t wait for readers to get them.

Where can readers find out more about you and your books?

Laurel: You can find me via my blog, twitter @LaurelCremant or Goodreads. I love hearing from readers so feel free to contact and follow me (in an un-stalker like fashion of course).

Negotiating Skills is currently available via AllRomance (ARe), Amazon, Barnes&Noble, Kobo and Smashwords.

Negotiating Skills, Excerpt...

Despite the fact that she knew she was being a chicken by not wanting to meet with Rossi in person, she still wanted to make sure that he was wowed by her progress. She had just placed the report back on the desk when she heard voices coming from the waiting area, the deep baritone of Rossi’s voice unmistakable.
Veronica could only assume that after weeks of lust induced stress that her brain had a temporary malfunction, because instead of taking a seat and calmly waiting for Rossi to enter the office, she quickly sprinted to the sofa across room and kneeled behind it.
As soon as she felt her knee hit the floor she was shaking her head at the stupidity of her action.
Just because she was avoiding the man didn’t mean that she had to hide behind actual furniture when he was around. She was about to rise when Rossi entered the room speaking to his assistant across his shoulder.
“I’m sorry sir, Ms. James was here just a few minutes ago,” stated his assistant, Marie.
“Don’t worry about it. It looks like she left her report here for me. I wasn’t expecting to be over an hour late. Even I don’t expect people to wait for me this long,” said Rossi.
Veronica held her breath and took a peek around the edge of the couch. She saw Rossi standing behind his desk yanking off his tie and taking off his suit jacket, while Marie stood at the doorway.
            “Go ahead and call it a night. I’m going to give this report a quick once over and head home myself.”
“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.” Marie said as she turned to leave.
Veronica watched Marie close the door in growing horror. She could hear the woman packing up her desk and leaving the outer office, and with it any chance of Veronica crawling out of the room undetected.
There was no way for Veronica to make a graceful appearance. What could she say?
“Oh. Hi there! I was just checking for spider webs and dust bunnies?”
She inwardly groaned as she ducked her head back behind the couch and hoped that Rossi would read through her report quickly and leave. She could leave once he left she told herself desperately. Staying crouched behind the couch she prayed that Rossi was as tired as he sounded when he walked in and would leave quickly.
Victor leaned back in his chair closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. It had been one hellishly long day.
He stayed up later than he wanted the night before to conduct a teleconference with some potential Russian investors, and came in early that morning to deal with a construction crisis involving a new South Beach development that was already behind schedule.
He was exhausted and glad that the day was finally over, but glancing down at the file on his desk, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he’d been unable to meet with Veronica that afternoon.
Sniffing the air he could still smell her sent in the room. Whenever she was around there was a faint hint of coconut, honey, and just plain Veronica in the air. It was a heady combination that always had him thinking of wet pussy and sweaty sex.
He didn’t know why he kept torturing himself with their weekly meetings. He was semi-hard every time she entered his office and rock hard by the time she left each week.
If it weren’t for the importance of the application she was working on and the flashing hands off signals she seemed to always display, he would have made a play for her weeks ago. Unfortunately, Victor did not tread where he wasn’t wanted.
“What a shame,” he mumbled to himself as he loosened the top few buttons of his shirt.
Veronica was smart, snarky, funny and sexy as hell. She was the type of woman he usually avoided like the plague—the type of woman he couldn’t be casual with. She was smart enough to capture his attention and comfortable enough with herself and in her skills to speak her mind and not pull any punches. She wouldn’t be demanding of his time but she would know if he no longer wanted to give it.
Veronica was the type of woman any man would want to keep happy but he usually wasn’t the type to be held down, but she tempted him enough to want to give it a try. Suddenly having someone to wake up to and be demanding of his time didn’t sound like such a death sentence.
He relaxed further into his chair, remembering their last meeting.
Veronica wore her usual boxy slacks and a loose shirt and as usual Victor was torturing himself, trying to imagine what kind of curves her clothing hid from him. It had become one of his favorite games while he listened to her husky voice talk about code compilation and server space.
He was at the point where he was theorizing about the size of her nipples when she excitedly jumped up from her chair and walked over to the large screen television he used as a monitor on the opposite end of the room.
“The new dashboard is finally up and running,” she said excitedly as she leaned forward and stuck a small flash drive into the side port of the screen.
“I wanted you to see what it would look like live and on screen and not just some print out on paper,” she said.
In truth Victor couldn’t really remember what images were flashed across the large screen. All he could remember was the flash of lace covered breast he glimpsed when Veronica leaned over to insert the flash drive. All he could see at that moment as Veronica continued on about the usefulness of the new feature were her large, caramel smooth breasts tipped with perfect chocolate colored nipples.
Thinking back now, Victor wasn’t quite sure how he had gotten through that last meeting without grabbing Veronica, and nuzzling his head between her perfect tits.
Groaning out loud, Victor reached down and rubbed his cock through his pants. He was a breast man through and through and the glimpse he received that day had been haunting his fantasies ever since.
He had gotten to the point of where he was constantly fantasizing about Veronica walking into his office wearing a pair of her sex personified heels and stripping for him. Slowly revealing all of the luscious skin she kept so well hidden.
He fantasized about her leaning over him and feeding him her breasts as she straddled him on his chair and rode his cock until he exploded.
Groaning again Victor glanced at his closed door and began unbuckling his pants. Taking his straining cock into his hands he sighed as he stroked himself, thinking of all the things he wanted to do to a naked and willing Veronica James.
Veronica huddled behind the couch, worrying over Rossi’s response to her latest report. She heard him groan several times and was worried that he may not like some of the upgrades she made to the application.
She knew that they were ambitious changes but they were also completely necessary for the application to be as robust and flexible as Rossi requested.
She was nibbling on her lower lip, debating on whether she should take another quick peek around the couch to gauge his expression while he was reading her report, when she heard the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered and a relieved sigh drifting through the air.
Veronica’s breath caught at the implications of the sound.
Is he getting undressed, she asked herself as her heart rate began to gallop in earnest. She smothered a soft moan of her own as the thought of an undressed Rossi so close to her settled in her mind. Of course he’s not she lectured to herself and shook her head to shake out of her lust induced haze.
Still she couldn’t resist taking a peek.
Taking a quick breath she leaned forward and looked over the corner of the couch. Her breath froze in her chest and her eyes widened as she took in the site before her.
Rossi sat leaning back in his big executive chair, his head thrown back, and eyes closed with his hand stroking the most magnificent cock she’d ever seen.
Veronica couldn’t look away. She watched as he stroked himself slowly up and down. His penis was long and thick with arousal.
She watched as his fist tightened around his shaft with each upward stroke. When he stroked his thumb across the tip and slicked pearly droplets of pre-cum around the bulbous head, Veronica struggled to hold back a whimper.
She wanted to crawl across the room and help him smooth the droplets with her tongue and suck him whole. She watched as he increased the tempo of his strokes and she struggled to breath. She’d never considered herself a voyeur, but watching Rossi get himself off was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.
Her mouth had gone dry and she quickly ran her tongue along her lips wishing they were on Rossi, wrapped around his pulsing dick.
She had a fleeting thought that her attraction to Rossi had finally pushed her over to the deep end from lustful thoughts to downright dirty and raunchy need. Her breath was coming out in pants and her panties had surpassed damp the moment she first looked and saw him stroking himself.
She couldn’t make herself turn away. She was entranced, wanting, and needing to see Rossi reach his release. His tempo slowed a bit, as if he was trying to prolong the moment, trying to torture her with the view of his dick pulsing for release. He rubbed his thumb across the engorged tip again and began pumping his fist in earnest.
Veronica’s ears began to ring as she waited in anticipation. She stuck her tongue out again to moisten her lips as she saw his hand tighten and his dick flush a deep purple as he came, the pearly ropes of cum drizzling over his hand and down to his ball sack.
Her throat constricted as she imagined those pearly ropes sliding down her throat.
It took a moment for Veronica to realize that her ears were still ringing. It took her another moment to realize that the ringing wasn’t in her ears but, the melodic tingling of a cell phone and it took an even longer moment for her to realize that it was the sound of her own cell phone ringing loudly into the air.
In a flash her eyes looked up from Rossi’s lap to see his eyes locked on her from across the room as the phone let loose its final tone.

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

Welcome Author Nick Santa Rosa

I've been writing short fiction, of all varieties, for about twenty years and have found small success along the way, having managed to get a few stories published in print and electronic form, a brief list of which is below.  My writing is dialogue driven, as it's my feeling characters should tell their own stories as much as possible.  As a result, I limit the narrative exposition to a minimum and only where I think it's absolutely necessary.

My characters are wholly fictional but the situations I put them in are almost always based on personal observations.  I might have them act in ways I wish I had in similar situations I've found or imagined myself.  Although, there are times when the story is cut from whole cloth.  Over the years, I've developed the view that the reader has a much better imagination than I and allow them to fill in certain details.  Consequently, I choose to avoid explicit descriptions of sex acts, where possible,  I also find it important for the story to drive the sex, rather than the other way around.

I recently created a blog where I've been posting stories:
The same stories can be found on my Facebook profile, in the Notes section.

A partial list of published stories:
Needle & Bones anthology: 'Dead Love' in  (Drollerie Press, now out of business)
Mammoth Book of Erotic Confessions: 'Top of the Charts'
ERWA: 'L.A. Dick: Stella'
Got a Minute anthology: 'His First' 
Fetish Quickies Anthology: 'Show Off'

Short Story
Mirrored Doors by Nick Santa Rosa

She was nearly naked, the first time I saw her, undressing in front of the closet doors.  She watched herself, more than paid attention to what she was doing.  Her thumbs slipped under the waist of her panties.  She bent over while pushing them down to her knees, then let them drop as she straightened.
From my vantage, I could see the front of her only in the mirror.
She rubbed open hands over her small breasts and flat stomach.  Her body swayed, as though there was music.  She held her left nipple between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand.  The other she slid over her abdomen and thigh.  She closed her eyes.  Her head rocked back.  Her mouth opened.
I stroked myself in the dark.
After a few minutes, she dropped to her knees.  Both hands reached between her legs.  Her shoulders stooped; breasts pinched by her slender biceps.  She alternately leaned forward, then back on her heels.
I knelt.
She finally lurched forward and put one hand on the floor.  The one still between her legs moved vigorously, two fingers probing to the last knuckle.  Her back arched and relaxed.  Her head hung down.  Her mouth opened wider.
My orgasm came as I watched her stiffen, and imagined a gasp drifting across the street and through our closed windows.
It wasn’t a nightly occurrence.  There was no pattern I could tell, watching from across the walkway between our buildings.  Sometimes she just dressed for bed and turned out the lights.  I never saw her with anyone else.  She always slept alone in her corner apartment.

“Excuse me, um, Miss . . . um, Miss.”
“Can I help you, er, would you like some help with that?”
“Thanks, but it’s not heavy.”
“You sure?  Because, I can help.  I’d be happy to help.”
“I’m good.  Thanks.”
“Oh.  If you’re sure.”
“Something I can do for you?”
“This is gonna sound . . . I’ve seen you a few times and was wondering, would you maybe be interested in having dinner with me sometime?
“Who are you?”
“Oh, sorry.  I live at 1375, across the way.  My name’s Jack.”
“What do you mean you’ve seen me?”
“Well, I . . . I’ve just seen you, you know, around.”
“Yeah.  I think you’re fairly pretty and –”
“Fairly pretty?  What the fuck does that mean?”
“I didn’t . . . wait – what I meant was –”
“I don’t bark at the moon?”
“I’m sorry.  That didn’t come out exactly, I mean, I was just wondering if you might, I’ve been wanting to ask you out and, well, I guess I finally, you know, worked up the nerve –”
“Did you think I’d bite, or something?”
“No.  No, that’s not – look, I just thought –”
“I was some homely chick just dying for you to rescue her?”
“No!  That’s not, what I mean is, I wasn’t –”
“Look, I don’t need some guy to take pity on me.  Thanks, but no thanks.”
“I wasn’t –”
“I said no, dude.  Get it?  I don’t know why you’re asking me in the first place.”
“I told you.  I saw you, I mean, I’ve seen you around and –”
“Wait a minute!  I know what this is.  You and your buddies decided to bet one of you could fuck me.  That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Well, you can go back to your little frat boy friends and tell them to screw off.  Okay?  You lose!”
She stood before the closet doors, wiping her face.  She put her palms on either cheek and rubbed along her jaw.  Her hands went to her neck, then her throat.  She continued to massage her cheek with her right hand, while her left grasped the top button of the blouse.
I opened my pants.
One by one, the buttons separated.  Both hands pulled the material aside and off her shoulders.  Her body shook briefly, as though with a sharp intake of breath.  The blouse fell to the floor.
I pulled my pants and underwear off.
She unzipped her skirt and let it drop.  She reached behind herself, unfastened her bra, held it in place for a second or two, then pulled it away and cast it on the bed.  She pushed her panties down and stepped out of them.
My cock twitched in my hand.
She stroked her buttocks and thighs.  She rubbed her breasts and stomach, down to her pubic hair.  She stepped back, sat on the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide.
I came in a towel.
For another ten minutes, at least, she drove the fingers of her hand deep inside herself; fast and slow, hard and gentle.  She stopped abruptly and put both hands to her face.  Her shoulders shook.  She laid on her side and pulled her feet up.
I pulled a chair by my window and watched, I don’t know how long, before I fell asleep.

“Hey, wait up!”
“Oh, it’s you.”
“Jack.  Remember?”
“How could I forget?”
“Listen, I’m sorry if I came across like a, like a, well, like I did.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.  There was no bet.  I don’t have any frat brother-buddy-whatevers.  It’s not like that.”
“No?  What’s it like, then?”
“Like I said –”
“Oh, right.  You’ve seen me around.  And what?  You’re just hanging out, waiting for me?”
“Look –”
“No, I remember.  Something about working up your courage, or some shit like that.”
“Hey, that’s not fair.”
“Well, somebody lied to you, Jackie.  Life ain’t fair.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“You wanna know what’s wrong with me?”
“You really wanna know.”
“By all means, enlighten me.”
“I don’t buy into all the bullshit.  Okay?”
“What bullshit?”
“’I’ve seen you around.’  ‘I’ve been wanting to ask you out.’  ‘Would you be interested in dinner.’  That bullshit.  Spare me, please.”
“What the –”
“Just be honest about it.  You wanna fuck and you thought I’d be available.”
“Don’t –”
“Flatter myself?  Oh, grow up.”
“You want honesty?”
“For once.”
“Fine.  I was . . . I . . .”
“Next time I see you . . .”
“Next time, huh?  What’s wrong with now?”
“Just . . . next time.”

Thursday, 6 September 2012

At the Restaurant


The polite banter between them was starting to annoy Allie.  Kyle was being the perfect gentleman.  And she hated it.
Where was the sexual innuendo?  The sultry looks?  The fiery caresses?  
She was getting hot and bothered and Kyle hadn’t done a thing.  And that was the problem.  She was sitting all prim and proper with no panties and a newly-shaved pussy.  It was making her stir-crazy.
“Is something the matter?” Kyle asked.
She glared at him.  “Yes, there’s something the matter.”
He reached over and grasped her hand.  “What is it?  Have I done something wrong?”
“No!  Yes!”
Kyle raised his eyebrows.  “Which one is it?”
“You haven’t done anything wrong and that’s the problem,” she hissed.
Kyle’s lips turned up in a smile. 
“Well?” she snapped.
“Well, what, Allie?  What is it you want me to do you?”  The huskiness of his voice reverberated throughout her body.
“I…I need you…” she paused and Kyle gazed at her expectantly.  “I need you to touch me,” she croaked.
Without a word, Kyle moved his chair closer to her.  “Tell me where you want me to touch you,” he whispered against her ear.
His hot breath fanned the blazing flames within her.  She looked around the room and decided their position in the restaurant was secluded enough.  “Anywhere,” she managed.
“Anywhere,” he echoed, running a finger down her cheek.
Her chest was heaving as his finger trailed over her neck and further down.  He stopped short of touching her breast.  Instead, he moved a hand to her knee and she felt it creep up her trembling thigh.
She stared at him.  He wouldn’t would he?  But she didn’t tell him to stop.  She wanted him to touch her.  There.  Between her legs.
His hand crept closer and she felt her fever grow.  His gaze was electrifying, never leaving hers for a second.
When his fingers met her wet heat, she took a sharp intake of breath.
 “I know what I want for dessert,” he stated in a low voice.  “Let’s get out of here.”

TASTE Available from Amazon and Smashwords