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Nefarious by Lucille Moncrief – Book Tour + #Giveaway

15/08/17

Nefarious Volume One:
A Dark and Erotic Tale
by Lucille Moncrief
Genre: Erotic Horror

Set in a steampunk Savannah, Georgia, Nefarious weaves a tale of
intrigue, hidden desires, and devious intentions.

Talcott Henderson wants to live again.

A centuries-old vampire, he longs to destroy his maker and become human
once more. In order to do so, he must turn another. While he sets his
sights on Elyse Delafayette, a human with a tragic past, Samuel
Quartermaine, a vampire hunter with a dark secret, sets his on
Talcott. Will Talcott succeed in convincing Elyse to join the ranks
of the undead before Samuel can stop him?

Curiosity bested me, and I brushed away the hair that had fallen across Ms.
Delafayette’s neck. Two more teeth marks over the carotid, but
these were faded. Coldiron would be very interested indeed.
My eyes lingered a bit too long on her face. She had delicate,
elven-like features framed by dark curls. Her lips were like a red
seal over an unblemished envelope. What secrets did they hold? What
secrets would they tell?”
Get it FREE on Instafreebie!
Nefarious Volume Two:
Honor the Suffering
Genre: Historical Fiction, Horror
Is eternal guilt the price of human empathy?
While the bombs rain overhead, Talcott Henderson and a group of fellow
soldiers huddle in the cratered ground beneath the German front
lines. Through the never-ending din of enemy fire, the voracious,
blood-soaked machine of war haunts Talcott. Memories claw at him;
kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. In the bowels of the earth a
specter appears, and offers him an eternal life free of guilt.
But what is the cost of an unmarred soul?
*Includes custom illustrations
*Cover art by Jessica Dueck
 …
Nefarious Volume 3:
The World Is Our Exile
Can evil consume innocence?
Can the one who walks the line between both save it?
Elyse Delafayette, innocent yet darkly cynical, continues a naive
flirtation with evil incarnate. Although goodness pursues her, she
rebukes him. Although he seems sincere, she fears he is not.
Samuel Quartermaine, embodying darkness and light, races against time to
save her from the clutches of the undead. Will she let him love her?
The third installment of the Nefarious series, The World is Our Exile is
a paranormal erotic romance novella set in a steampunk Savannah,
Georgia. If you love sarcastic heroines, brooding, secretive heroes,
and exploring the stark contrast between good and evil, you will love
this story. Get your copy now to experience a thrilling, erotic ride
into vivid new world.
 …
COMING SOON on August 21st!!
 …
Lucille Moncrief is a horror and historical fiction author. A stodgy old
librarian in a past life, she loves poring over history books and
binge watching PBS’s “Secrets Of” series.
Her literary inspiration comes from the works of Poe, Lovecraft,
Fitzgerald, and her favorite author is Kurt Vonnegut.
When she is not yelling at the kids to get off her lawn, you can find her
staring out her window pretending to be pensive.
 …
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive guest posts and a giveaway!
 …
 
Posted in #Book, #Giveaway, Author, Bewitching Book Tours, blog, Book, Erotic, Romance, Tour, Writer

Dark Rooms by Sionna Fox – Book Tour

10/08/17

Dark Rooms

Sionna Fox

Genre:  Erotic Romance
Publisher:  Boroughs Publishing Group
Date of Publication:  27 July 2017
ISBN:  978-1-944262-82-2
ISBN: 978-1-548299-49-1
Word Count: 40,000 words.
Cover Artist:  Boroughs Publishing Group
When they met on Friday night, he dominated her. When he walks into her photography classroom on Wednesday morning, the question is, who’s in charge. 

Book Description: 

 

NO SAFE WORDS 

Women beg Wes Oliver to dominate them in darkness. In the light, he’s finally getting his life back on track. College is priority number one—until he finds his new professor is the delicious Sub who ran out on him last weekend, a brilliant and mature beauty nothing like the girls who usually kneel before him. Suddenly, this is no longer just about pleasure. This is about his heart.

Aimee Eastman has rules. Rules for herself. Rules for her college photography students. Rules for the partners she submits to at private BDSM house parties. Then the hot young Dom who topped her last weekend walks into her classroom and all boundaries fly out the window—or would if she could just give up control. Like she wants. Like she needs. Then she and Wes might share forever.

About the Author:

Sionna Fox has been writing stories her whole life. Her first book was about dinosaurs, and according to her mother, it was adorable. Sionna was late to the romance game, but hasn’t looked back since picking up the habit and firmly believes romance novels can save your life. She lives in New England with her very patient husband and a very put-upon dog.

 

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Echoes of Love by Tanith Davenport – Book Tour + #Giveaway

26/07/17


Echoes of Love
Tanith Davenport
Genre: Paranormal erotic romance
Publisher: Totally Bound
Date of Publication: 18 July 2017
ISBN: 978-1-78686-218-1
Number of pages: 52
Word Count: 13,845
Cover Artist: Posh Gosh
Tagline: Kala wants to catch a ghost. The ghost wants to catch her. What does Tor want?
Book Description:
Paranormal writer Kala Westenra, staying with her best friend Vika in Norway, is hunting for a new subject for an article, and finds it when she hears footsteps in the hall twenty minutes before Vika’s hot brother Tor Viitanen arrives home. This, Vika tells her, is the vardoger – a Norwegian ghost, a future echo which always precedes a person’s arrival.
Kala plans to stake out the hallway to catch the vardoger in the act – and is shocked when, on its arrival, it kisses her. Her feelings for Tor have been hidden ever since she first met him two years ago; could it be that the vardoger is acting on Tor’s secret desire for her?
As Kala and Tor work together to understand what is happening with the spirit, their longing for each other begins to overtake them – but the vardoger has more to show them than they expected…
Totally Bound       Amazon UK        Amazon
Excerpt:
Tor reached over
the arm of the sofa, pulled up a cushion and threw it at her. Vika threw it
back, knocking over her wineglass at the same time.
“Here, let me
get you a refill.” Kala reached for the bottle, but it was empty. Vika stood
and made for the door, picking up her jacket from the hook on the back on her
way past.
“I’ll
run out and get another one. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”                           
Kala launched
the cushion after her, hitting the door instead.
“I can see why
you and my sister get on so well.” Tor raised an eyebrow. “You’re both drunks.”
“Oh, shut up.
I’m still technically a student. I can drink if I like.”
“Soon to be a
writer and they drink a lot, too, I’ve heard.”
Kala laughed. “I
don’t know about journalists, though. Although I’d quite like to be a writer,
too—novels or something. I don’t know what kind yet.”
“I’ll keep my
eyes open for your hot new release.”
Ooh.
Kala held his
gaze, her insides stirring strangely. Maybe it was the alcohol, but there was
something in the words hot release that made a rush of heat flow through her
body, her skin tingling.
After a long moment,
Tor spoke again. “So, Vika thinks you need a man.”
“I don’t need a
man. I may want a man.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Something flickered across Tor’s face, his eyes glowing. He shifted onto his
knees, leaning over the arm of the sofa, his face close to hers. “What sort of
man do you want?”
“Oh, you know.
We hotshot journalists don’t like to be tied down.” Kala gave him a taunting
look, leaning closer to him so that their faces were almost touching. “Tall,
dark, commitment-phobic. That’ll do me.”
“I can help you
there.”
A sudden rush of
movement and Tor’s mouth was on hers.
This is a bad
idea. He’s Vika’s brother.
But somehow she
no longer cared and Tor was right here and he was moving, moving over the arm
of the sofa as they were still kissing, then his body was pressing down onto
hers and they were still—
To hell with it,
she thought and arched up against him, tangling her fingers in his hair.
She felt his
hard cock through his jeans as it brushed against her leg, sending a dart of
wet heat straight to her cunt. His hands ran down, caressing her neck, her
shoulders, cupping her breasts and rolling his thumbs over her nipples through
her bra.
Oh, God—
Then the sound
of the lock clicking.
Immediately, Tor
rolled off her and onto the floor, twisting round to position himself back at
the side of the sofa. Kala sat up and ran a hand through her hair.
Shit, that was
close.

 

“Here’s the
wine,” Vika announced as she came through the door, shopping bag in hand. “I
got back as fast as I could.”
 
About the Author:
Tanith Davenport began writing erotica at the age of 27 by way of the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme. Her debut novel “The Hand He Dealt” was released by Total-e-Bound in June 2011 and was shortlisted for the Joan Hessayon Award for 2012.
Tanith has had short stories published by Naughty Nights Press and House of Erotica. She loves to travel and dreams of one day taking a driving tour of the United States, preferably in a classic 1950s pink Cadillac Eldorado.
Tanith’s idea of heaven is an Indian head massage with a Mojito at her side.

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Sexy Living by Regina Cole – Book Tour + #Giveaway

02/06/17

**
SEXY LIVING
by Regina Cole
Genre: Romance/Erotica
Pub Date: 5/23/17
**
**
Regina Cole tells a surprising—and
sizzling—story about a successful young woman who learns that size
is just a number, happiness is hot, and sexy is a way of life…
In her nine-to-five life, Stacey Hough
is a confident young woman whose career is going from strength to
strength. But a trip to Hawaii for her cousin’s wedding lays bare
her deepest insecurities, and she books the first flight home to
Atlanta to avoid exposing her curves on the beach. Tired of being
unhappy, she decides to take action and heads to the gym. But her
personal trainer’s seductive smile and ridiculous muscles make it
hard to focus on lifts and lunges…Robert Liston lives to
help people achieve their goals. When Stacey walks into his gym, he
sees a voluptuous woman who doesn’t know how beautiful she really
is, and he’s determined to help her learn to accept herself. As
soon as she starts warming up on the treadmill, things start warming
up between them, and it’s only a matter of time before Rob is
putting Stacey through her paces at the gym—and in the bedroom. As
the line between work and pleasure blurs, Rob must convince her that
sexy has nothing to do with the scale—and that her imperfections
inspire the greatest passion of all…
**
sl- excerpt
**

Before she’d left home, the thought of a November vacation  in Hawaii had made Stacey Hough giddy. But now that it was actually happening, all she could think about were the drops of sweat wending their way down her spine as her sandals made flapping noises against the concrete walkway.

“Just a few more feet until air-conditioning,” she said to herself, eyeing the resort’s beautiful, air-conditioned tower of hotel rooms that would give her sanctuary. This was less than ideal. Her cousin would pick the hottest November on record to have her destination wedding.

Stacey upped her pace, trying to ignore the beads of moisture tickling her upper lip. That wasn’t exactly fair. Sabrina couldn’t have known how hot it would be. Besides, it wasn’t the bride’s fault that her maid of honor was sweating like a teenage boy who’d gotten caught watching Internet porn. That was all  Stacey’s doing.

“I’ll go to the beach,” she’d said to herself after lunch with the bride. It had been years since she’d been on a real vacation, and   she had intended to enjoy it. Of course, she couldn’t actually find the guts to put on the new swimsuit she’d bought for the trip. The imaginary confidence she’d been leaning on up until this point went poof in the harsh light of the tropical paradise. No way could she go out in any kind of swimwear. There were way too many witnesses. The trade-off was a nice walk. But what should have been a relaxing hour-long stroll along a beautiful coastline had turned into a hot, sandy trek across what might as well have been the Sahara, and had turned Stacey’s joy at the vacation into a chore. It sucked, but the temporary discomfort would be over soon.

The artificially cooled air caressed Stacey’s cheeks, and she gave a heavy sigh of relief as the glass hotel doors swung shut behind her. Finally.  Punching the button for the elevator, she glanced upward.

Crap. Her strawberry-blond hair was frizzing around her fore- head. Turning, she looked in the mirror that was mounted on the opposite wall and promptly blanched.

Good Lord, she looked like a nightmare. Red, sweaty, and fright- ening. If she ran into any small children on the way to her room, they’d probably need therapy for years to come.

This was why she stayed home. Work was safe. Work, she could throw herself into with abandon and not come out looking like a cartoon villain. Oh well. She had planned to shower before tonight’s bachelorette party anyway. There were a couple of hours left for her to make herself look presentable.

The elevator doors glided open, and Stacey’s stomach plummeted through the floor. Shit.

“Good Lord, Stacey, what happened to you? You look terrible!” Aunt Beatrice wasted no time in pointing out the obvious as she exited the elevator.

“I went for a run. I’m training for the Iron Man,” Stacey joked drily as she passed her aunt.

Completely missing the sarcasm, Aunt Beatrice lit up with a smile. “Good! That is fabulous. You do need to exercise, but perhaps next time you should dress a bit differently? You aren’t wearing the right attire, and there are sweat stains on—”

The doors shut then, and Stacey slumped against the back wall of  the elevator.

Getting angry was exhausting and pointless. Aunt Beatrice had been dropping comments about her weight and other shortcomings since Stacey was in preschool. Her family had won the genetic lottery, and Stacey was the only exception. Not that she was ugly. She’d gotten the reddish-blond hair and blue eyes, sure, but the height and good metabolism had definitely skipped her. At least her own parents were vacationing in Europe, and unable to join in the fun of pointing out her faults. Fortunately, Bree was nothing like her mother in atti- tude. Bree was Stacey’s favorite relative, and one of her closest friends. There wasn’t much Stacey wouldn’t endure for her, and that included record-high temperatures and snooty Aunt Beatrice.

When she finally arrived on her floor, Stacey dragged an arm across her cheeks and walked determinedly to her room. Tonight would be just what she needed. Bree always did wonders for Stacey’s mood, and the other bridesmaid, Eliza, seemed really nice. They’d go out for pedicures, a fancy dinner, and then a night out dancing and cutting loose.

**

Stacey forced a smile. It would be a blast. Just the thing to help her shake off these blues.

**

**
**
**
**
Regina Cole, lover of manly muscled
arms, chest hair, and mini-marshmallows, has been reading romance
since her early teens. While she loves a love story of any heat
level, she’s been drawn to the erotic side, and is enjoying every
minute of writing it. When she’s not frantically pounding away at
the keyboard, she can be found fishing with her family, playing with
her dogs, trying out strange new recipes, or snuggling with her
hubby. Readers can find out more about Regina (like she also writes
mainstream romance as Gina Lamm) at reginacole.net.
**
**
**
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!
**
**
**

Save

Posted in #Book, Author, Bewitching Book Tours, blog, Book, Erotic, Tour, Writer

Fire and Ice by Braden Quinn – Book Tour

18/04/17

 

 


Fire and Ice

Braden Quinn

Genre: Erotica
Publisher: Beyond the Moon Press
Date of Publication: April 1 2017
ASIN: B06XJR9M4T
Word Count: 16,000
Cover Artist: The Cover Collection
Tagline: Nothing is off limits

Book Description:

Ice by day and fire by night, that’s how I roll. In a crazy existence that’s driven by excessive amounts of money, hot women, and insatiable sexual thirst, I live the life of a rock star. This diary chronicles nine sexual encounters that would have never happened if I wasn’t one of the most well-known players in the best hockey league in the world.
My name is Braden Quinn, and I play for the New York Rangers. So, sit back, and enjoy my erotic memoir.

Excerpt:

 All I really want is a drink—a cold, freshly
opened bottle of Stella, the bubbles rising to the top and into my parched
mouth. As I wait for the bartender, across the room, I glimpse hints of pink
lace as she bends down to retrieve her glass from the floor. When she stands
back up, her micro-mini black dress barely covering the pert curves of her
backside, her baby-blue eyes meet mine, and she grins knowingly. She locks in
my attention as she walks over in her five-inch heels, keeping to the beat of
the Weeknd track pumping from the DJ booth. I am spellbound. I don’t know her
name or where she’s from. I hope she’s of age—even just barely will do.

 

As she gets
nearer, her smile fades, and she looks to my left. I wonder if I misread the
signals and if she was actually smiling at someone else. But then she stops
just in front of me and turns around. I have no idea what’s going on,
especially when I feel her soft hand touch mine. She runs her deliciously sharp
nails up and down my hand, sending a tickle of excitement through me. I cup her
hand, and she entwines her fingers through mine. I want—need—to feel her back
against me to comfort my throbbing cock. I grab hold of her waist, her hand
still in mine, and firmly pull her closer to me. As her butt presses like a
cushion against me, she grinds a little, the top of her head tickling my chin.
Then, taking me by surprise, she forcefully glides my unresisting hand down
from the small of her lower back—where her straight, shimmering chestnut hair
ends in wisps of loose waves—to her exposed smooth thigh. I forget my need for
beer.
 

About the Author:

Braden Quinn is a Canadian professional ice hockey player who lives in New York City.

 

 

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Marie Curie Saves the Titanic by Lady Ristretto – Book Tour + #Giveaway

05/01/17

Marie Curie Saves the Titanic
with a Flying Alien and a Mechanical Bat (and then They Bang):
An Action Figure Erotic Novel
By Lady Ristretto
Marie Curie is travelling aboard the Titanic on its maiden voyage with many historical figures, such as the Einsteins and Rudolph Valentino. Marie finds herself attracted to two mysterious American men, the ethereally handsome Kent Calhoun and the brooding billionaire Brewster Wainright.
Marie’s extended exposure to radiation through scientific research has given her telekinetic powers. But Marie isn’t the only one with superhuman powers.
Suffering in an unhappy marriage with an emotionally abusive husband, Marie
indulges sexually in the fascinating people around her.
Despite it being a buffet of anachronistic historical figures which borders on the absurd, Marie goes through a very profound and painful journey as she finally determines that she wants her life to change.
This is an Action Figure Erotica novel. The main characters have to have been made into action figures. Time, place, and history doesn’t matter. It’s like playing with toys as an adult. It’s fantasy and myth and history all wrapped up in a sexy package.
mc-excerpt

FOUR

 

Day Two, April 11

 

Marie slept through breakfast and then had room service bring up coffee and croissants.  It was cold and foggy outside, but Marie didn’t mind.  She ate her croissant staring out her porthole and felt like she was on a magical adventure.  Cal and Mileva were electrifying, magical people.

 

Mileva wasn’t merely Einstein’s wife.  She had been his student and was an independent physicist.  Without hesitation, Mileva shared that Albert preferred that she stay home with their steadily growing brood of children.

 

“I love my children,” she said sadly, in French.  Mileva spoke to her in French out of respect and intimacy.  In French, they could have a private conversation.  “I do.  I simply grow incredibly frustrated and bored and restless and the children can be so needy.”  As if remembering herself and realizing the intimate details she was revealing, Mileva shook her head and smiled.  “Physics is demanding, but it doesn’t dump peanut butter and jelly in the toilet or shave the cat.”

 

“Peanut butter and jelly?”

 

“Because the fish were hungry.  My children are crazy.”  She said it in quite a serious tone.  “Do you have children?  Oh, I’m sorry, that was indelicate of me.”  Mileva took her hand and squeezed it with passion.

 

Marie laughed.  “Radiation is my child and I’m happy it is.”

 

Mileva kept Marie’s hand and put it in her lap.  “Is it really killing you?”

 

Marie’s face fell.

 

“That was extremely indelicate.  But it’s quite all right–my children are killing me,” Mileva said, forcing her face into a pleasant expression.  Marie could tell Mileva was drunk, and she was only hinting at the deeper misery she had.  Mileva had wanted to be a physicist as a little girl.  Einstein wanted her to be a wife and mother.  Mileva could give him valuable feedback and yet couldn’t actively participate in the scientific world.  Mileva looked at Marie’s hand in her lap, letting her fingers trace Marie’s knuckles.  She looked like she was about to kiss them.  “Albert is quite taken with you.  He says your glowing green skin is captivating.”

 

Marie suddenly smiled and looked away.  A subtle blush of green flames licked across her cheeks.  “You’re too kind and generous.”

 

“And out of champagne!” Mileva emptied her glass and waved for a waiter.  One immediately showed to refill her glass, but she told him to leave the bottle.  He did so obediently.  Mileva filled both their glasses.  Marie giggled and they both drank.

 

“Albert wanted me to approach you about a threesome,” Mileva said, her eyes flashing as her fingers played with the gleaming white pearls around her neck.  She still retained Marie’s hand.  “So I have and my job is done.”

 

Marie blinked several times.  “I’m…very flattered of course.”

 

“But not interested,” Mileva said.

 

“I’m not opposed to the concept of sexual liberation.  God knows my own husband is leading the campaigner for gay men in Paris.  But Albert is…”

 

“Not your type?”

 

“Not at all.  No offense, I assure you.”

 

Mileva fixed her eyes on Marie:  “And me, Professor Curie?  Am I your type?”

 

Marie knew exactly what she wanted to say.  But all she could do drink all the champagne in her glass in one gulp.

 

Mileva laughed and she sounded young and excited.  She jumped up.  “Come dance with me!”

 

Marie allowed Mileva to pull her to the dance floor.  It was late into the evening and most people had left to walk the deck or continue drinking harder liquor at one of the bars.  Cal and Wayne were still in the dining room, deep in conversations with older gray haired men in expensive suits who seemed quite charmed.

 

Mileva put her arm around Marie’s waist, and Marie’s hand on Mileva’s shoulder.  “I don’t normally lead, but you don’t look like you’ve done this before.”

 

“I have!” Marie responded.

 

Mileva threw her head back and laughed.

 

There was a full band still playing, and Ella Fitzgerald was singing “Embraceable You.”  Mileva guided Marie slowly to the music, pressing her close.  Marie was slightly taller and looked down into Mileva’s dress, seeing her breasts free and moving against the beaded fabric of her dress.  Occasionally, she had a glimpse of a hard, pink nipple and Marie felt her body warm dramatically.

 

Suddenly Mileva let go of Marie and jumped back.  The chandelier drops of Marie’s dress reflected her green glow, which was intensifying dramatically.  Marie shuddered from the energy pumping through her body, and there was a burst.  The glass drops shot out intense beams, scorching the dance floor all around her.  It came out like a shotgun blast and then it was over.

 

Marie was mortified, pressing her hand over her mouth.  Mileva, however, was delighted.  She threw her arms around Marie and said she’d never been so flattered.

 

Cal and Wayne stared at Marie, their mouths hanging open.

 

The next morning, Marie hardly believed that the conversation took place.  Her face became hot from the memory and the heat was so intense it made her sweat all over.

 

Marie opened her porthole and let in the cold sea air.  She breathed in deeply and slowly and felt the heat begin to subside.  She had a fleeting thought of being twisted in her bed with Mileva, and it started wet heat trickling between her legs.  It almost set her nightgown on fire.  She smelled the material smoking and just managed to pull it off over her head and pushed it out the porthole.

 

Marie needed distraction.  She took a very cold shower and dressed in a thick, lead lined dress.  It was quite heavy, but necessary.  Especially if she was going to be so physically excitable today.  She was not usually so excitable.  She almost never caused fires or burned holes in dancefloors.  It was annoying, but it was also intriguing.  It offered up the possibility that things could be different on the Titanic.  That she could relax and do things Pierre wouldn’t allow.

Usually Marie wore her hair up in a practical bun.  Normally, her work could not accommodate her attention straying to her hair.  It must be completely out of her way.  She couldn’t sacrifice even a moment to push an unruly lock behind her ear.

 

But today she wanted to wear her hair down, pinned back at her neck to keep it mildly under control.  It was comfortable and, she knew, much more attractive.  As she brushed it, smiling and enjoying this small act of rebellion, there was a knock at the door.  It was a porter bearing an envelope sealed with wax.  He explained he was instructed to wait for an answer.

 

It was an invitation from Cal, requesting her presence at tea and a walk around the deck.  Marie wrote on the card, I would love to, and the heat from her hand left a burnt imprint on the paper.  Her first reaction was to keep it and simply give the porter a verbal confirmation.

 

But, no: let Cal see her fire.

I worked for almost ten years in coffee (Starbucks, Barnes & Noble cafes) when I quit and turned to writing erotica full time.

That’s a little misleading. Let me back up about twenty years. I decided I wanted to write professionally when I was in high school (not erotica, but my work definitely skirted the issue in an obvious way, but it eventually manifested itself in plays. They were the only thing I could finish. I did write poetry, but it was riddled with teen angst and pocked with imagery involving bleeding walls of flesh and a knight chess piece. And I kept a diary which, at the time, I wrote at an astonishing rate of half to one blank book a day.

While at UCLA, I wrote plays on the side. Sometimes during class. Sometimes inspired by my classes. While I took archaeology, queer literature and vampire fiction I wrote a radio play about a cross dressing archaeologist in Mexico who unknowingly unearthed a vampire.

After UCLA I had no idea what to do with myself and missed college a week after I graduated. I had my first full length play produced by a small theater in Illinois, and the director told me I’d learn much if I got my MFA in playwriting. So I went to Southern Illinois University, Carbondale and got my MFA.

I wasn’t the best graduate student. I was willful, stubborn, contrary, fiesty, combative. My work started to enter the realm of erotica and, being life stage plays, this became problematic. Especially in a university theater. I had written a one act play about pony play, which the department found too objectionable and unstagable to produce. Another one act was about a lesbian astronomer who falls in love with a star, and has a kind of “sex” scene with the star involving a nude scene.

My thesis play was about a woman who pretends to be a man online, and has cybersex with another woman. I didn’t want this to be my thesis. For my thesis, I wrote a full length version of Dying in Pleasure. But that was immediately found to be objectionable: too violent and misogynistic for undergraduates actors.

But I got out of there, and spent a couple years working on a novel version of Dying in Pleasure. I couldn’t let it go. During this time I went to Pompeii and it was harrowing. The condition of the town and seeing the bodies on display was extremely disturbing. No matter what professors had said about my play, I wasn’t going to abandon the story.

I eventually landed in Texas to work on my Phd. While there I began my own theater company to produce my works almost exclusively. This is when erotica and playwriting truly merged, and I became quite the controversy.

The theater lived almost two years before bankrupting, and I suppose I slid underground. I wrote very little and focused on coffee. Many personal issues and complications and life changes later, I find myself in Southampton, England and writing erotica full time. I work on novels and write short stories on commission. I’ve been building a significant online presence and have worked hard to be successful.

Publishing Dying in Pleasure has been more than a professional hurdle and accomplishment. It’s the culmination of years of work, my development as a writer, my obsession with Pompeii and my stubbornness.

Presently, I’m working on a mermaid erotica novel which I hope to be the first book in a series.

PS. A question suddenly occurred to me–why erotica? I’ve been fascinated with sex and sexuality for years. At this point, nothing really shocks me (although every once in a while, something new pops up that does), and it all fascinates me. I don’t judge anyone. I don’t write about everything (such as child molestation), but I don’t look down on furries and golden showers and any form of BDSM.

I think what intrigues me the most is the power sex has over us. How sex can turn an intelligent, well balanced, logical and emotionally stable person into a panting beast. I’ve experienced it myself. One of my best friends said of me, “How could someone so intelligent do something so stupid?” What I had done was stupid, but how it happened in simple: sex. I didn’t know how to wield the power of sex. It was a sword I was too weak to carry and it cut me in a thousand places. It had nothing to do with intelligence. Sex never does.

Intelligence is realizing that sex is powerful. And sometimes it’s okay to give in to it, and other times it’s not.