Monday, May 30, 2011

Blog Tour and Winners and Reawakening For A Bargain Price, Oh My!

So I put the names in the hat, and the winner of a copy of Reawakening is...drumroll...

Sasha Devlin!

But as I'm feeling extra generous, I thought I'd give away another copy. And the tiny bit of post-it told me that the second winner is...



And it seems I'm feeling even more extra generous than that, because if Saskia, Madelynne and David would like to pick another book out of my backlist, I'd be only too happy to send them a copy. I've got print copies of the anthos Fast Girls, Smooth, Orgasmic and Fairytale Lust. I've got ebook copies of Control, The Horizon, Past Pleasures, Tigerlily, Closer and Giving. Oh, and the anthologies Threefold and Master Me!

Just email me, guys, and I'll get those prizes out to you!

In further news, I did a blog on more zombie goodness over at Passionate Reads this week:

And it's got news of an amazing deal you can only get today. All Romance Ebooks are doing a 50% rebate, and Reawakening has already been released there! Buy it now and save loads of cash! Hooray!

And finally, a little bit of info as to where I am on the web this week. Loads of people were kind enough to offer me a space on their blog to promote Reawakening (much to my blubbering happiness), and you can view a few of my little jaunt around the tinternets here:

Justine Elyot:

Hailey Edwards:

Daisy Harris:

Erotica For All:

There'll be more coming, too!

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Sexy Zombie Threesome Competition!

Yep, I put that title in there to make the competition sound more exciting than it probably is. What of it?

Though really, the competition is exciting enough on its own. I swear to God, it is. Enter, and you could win a night with the heroes of my latest zombie novel, Reawakening! They'll soothe away the stresses of the apocalypse, and do dirty things to you all the live long day, and even if all of this will only actually occur in my head, I'm sure you'll have a grand time.

And on top of this totally fictional prize, you could also win a copy of my book! Hurrah!

So what do you have to do to be in with a chance of winning this fabulous prize, I hear you cry? Well, it's more than simple. Just comment on this blog before Monday, and your name will go in a hat. And then I'll pick out a winner and et voila! One person will get fictional threesomes with Jamie and Blake, plus a free copy of my book.

And who knows, I may even throw in a second prize of the other eight million books I don't seem to have sent to any reviewers. I've got print copies of Control, anthologies like Threesomes and Fast Girls and Fairytale Lust. I've got all sorts!

And if you want some extra info about the book I'm talking about, or even if you just want to buy it right now and gain yourself my undying love forever, here is the link:

And a blurb:

June has spent the last two years of her life trying to avoid death at the hands of murderous psychopaths and ravening zombies. So when Jamie turns up on the scene, careless, still whole and promising her safety on a little paradise island, she isn’t quite sure she can trust him. Especially when he tells her that it’s just him, and his equally big, burly, handsome friend Blake.

But Jamie and Blake are even better than her wildest dreams—sweet and funny and charming. And worst of all: sexy as hell. Though they're trying to be gentlemanly with her, all she can think about is how much she wants to get tangled up in them, and forget the nightmare the world has become. She's waiting for her reawakening—back to life and happiness and love.

And they seem like just the right sort of men to wake her—body and soul.

And an excerpt:

All June could think was—Kelsey is dead, Kelsey is dead, Kelsey is dead—while the image of the ravening hordes feasting on Kelsey’s body played behind her eyes. She tried to shut it off, keep it down, keep running before they got to her, but Kelsey’s blood was still wet and all over her right arm.

And if Jamie hadn’t shot Kelsey—right as she was still screaming, and begging for help—she’d be one of them, now. That’s what happened. Once they bit you or bled on you or hell, spat on you, you had maybe thirty seconds.

Before you turned.

She needed to stop, just stop for a second. Lean against something and catch her breath. But Jamie had somehow led them into this building and he just kept running and running—only up instead of out.

June didn’t even know if Jamie was really his name, or if he was leading them right into a dead end. But he kept going, none-the-less.

She could hear the hordes, busting through the door below. He’d barred it, but they were coming in anyway, to this place that was an almost total deathtrap. The staircase was narrow and blanketed in darkness, one winding section after the next. Even if she dared to pause and look over the railing, she wouldn’t be able to see them until they were almost on her.

“Jamie, wait!” she shouted, but not because things would be easier if he had hold of her hand or was there to comfort her in this dire hour of need. She’d made it this far, on her own

Or at least, she’d made it this far, with Kelsey.

No, it was just that—if he kept going, eventually they’d be trapped, on the roof. And she couldn’t have that. That was one of her and Kelsey’s rules—don’t run to someplace with only one exit.

Only it was just her rule, now. This guy, this Jamie…he didn’t seem to have any rules. He’d decided to run to the roof of a twenty story building then potentially wait outside until the hordes pushed through a probably very flimsy fire door.

Kelsey had said to her. She had said—wait. He’s as crazy as they are. A safe island? He’s nuts. We can’t go with him. He’s probably an insane apocalypse rapist.

And she’d been right, God help her. Maybe not about the insane apocalypse rapist part, but even so and besides—there was still time for that. He could be anyone, be into anything. He could have planned this all along…Kelsey’s death, the run to the roof…hell, maybe he had a whole party of insane assholes up there, just waiting to do horrible things to her.

Even if that was as nuts as he now seemed. Why would he trap himself on the roof, just to have a little fun with her? Nothing in her head was functioning in quite the way it should. Connections had been lost. Wiring had come loose.

She still called out to him again, when they got to the level before the last one. Her voice came out hoarse and breathless, burning lungs making everything difficult, Kelsey in her mind making everything worse. But somehow the words emerged.

“Jamie, stop. Take the nineteenth floor exit, okay—we can go back down on the other side of the building—answer me, fuck!”

He did, then. She heard him call out over her own shrieking breaths, the pounding of her sneakers on stone, and the sounds of the once-were-people below, slathering and barking like animals.

There were two cracks, like he’d fired her gun into the stairwell. Though she couldn’t see where he was shooting or at what. Then—

“Just keep following me, June-bug—come on!”

Only it sounded more like come own, because of the Texan twang Kelsey had sworn up and down was fake. And he’d called her June-bug again, because he was crazy, he was crazy, oh dear Lord he was probably leading them to their deaths.

This was all just some final mad hurrah. He was suicidal, and this was how he wanted to go out. Death by stairs or death by zombies—because they were zombies, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise—or even worse, death by roof.

Was that what he was going to do? Hurl himself off? Plummet to his untimely end? She didn’t know. All she could really think about was how close the first ravening cannibal was getting, and how unfit she really was. She’d started believing all the cardio was really beginning to pay off, but as it turned out, eighteen flights of stairs and she was out for the count. Her heart clawed at her ribcage. Her thigh muscles screamed and screamed.

While her zombie pals kept coming and coming, as though the stairs were nothing, really. Why, leaping up eighteen flights was like a morning stroll to them! They could have climbed these stairs forever and still had the wherewithal to eat her innards, once they got their claw-like hands on her.

She hit the fire door to the roof just as one of said claw-like hands brushed the back of her shirt.

It made everything inside her leap, including the heart she’d thought had escaped. Whenever they got really close—that was when you realized just how terrible they were. How awful the world had become. How much it wasn’t like a movie at all, but like a constant and unbearable pressure against your sanity, always threatening to make you go over.

She felt like going over, when the door wouldn’t close on them. For a second of pushing and heaving with their hands coming through and all over her, her mind tried to fly away. It told her to start screaming uncontrollably, while clawing at herself—that doing so would really be her best bet. No more running constantly. No more pain over Kelsey—and before Kelsey, Joanne and Pat and the old lady whose name she never learned.

Just peace, finally. One moment of agony, then peace.

Only it wouldn’t be, would it? No, it wouldn’t be. If she stopped pushing at the door and jamming it at them and just God, let the door snap their arms, let it crush them, let it kill them all forever, if she stopped…they’d turn her into one of them. And no matter how much she tried to let it hurt her that Jamie had pointed the gun and shot Kelsey between the eyes, it didn’t. It couldn’t.

Being one of them was worse. After all, it could have been that they’d caught a disease. It might have been that they were infected with something—like in 28 Days Later, rather than Night of the Living Dead. But part of her wondered whenever she stared into their hollow, ink-black eyes, if they’d simply lost their souls.

He looked like it. The one who’d managed to squeeze his mottled face into the crack she was struggling to close in the door. He had no pupils, no irises, no whites to his eyes. It was all just blackness, empty and weirdly unseeing, as though they operated on no more than a bloodlust now. Like upright land sharks roaming the land, blindly searching out prey.

She wrenched the door from him for just an instant then smashed it back into his face. It was a risky move, but oh so worth it. Worth it for the satisfaction, worth it for Kelsey, worth it for everything these things had taken from everyone. People’s souls hadn’t left. These things had stolen them.

And when it slithered away and the door quite abruptly shut, the idea didn’t go with it. It stayed, and festered—so much so that she wanted to open the door for one mad moment, just to smash it back in their faces again, and again, and again.

She wanted to, but Jamie was calling to her. And other sounds were starting to flood through her now, too, other big, big sounds that she should have noticed ages ago.

At first she thought it was some kind of weapon. That he’d found a chainsaw or a pneumatic drill or a wood chipper. Something he’d known was up here all along for them to use against the enemy.

But then the wind whipped up and she turned to see something far more incredible than a zombie eating wood chipper. It was so incredible that she forgot the zombies battering on the fire door, for a second. They’d bust through it soon enough because although they couldn’t figure out handles, the sheer pressure of them would figure out the release bar.

Though it didn’t seem to matter. For the first time in these two years of hell, it didn’t matter. She found herself laughing out loud, high and probably hysterical.

Jamie had only gone and gotten himself a helicopter. And not only that, but he apparently knew how to fly a helicopter. The rotors were going. They were kicking up the fine gravel that lined the roof of whatever building this was, and he was yelling to her—

“Come on, June-bug, get your ass in here!”

She thought of him talking about the island. About his buddy who was waiting for them. How they’d just wanted to find survivors, and populate their safe haven, and how crazy that had sounded when he first started yakking about it.

Then she ran to him.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Mancandy Monday: Hot Zombies

Welcome, welcome. It's zombie week here at chez Stein, due to the fact that my orsum zombie novel is out on Wednesday! Hurrah! So in celebration of this fact, I thought I'd create a little infomercial for you. A guide, if you will, on how to survive the zombie apocalypse. Which as the movies have told us repeatedly, is definitely on its way.

In fact, the movies themselves often give splendid advice on what to do, should you find yourself being chased by the various types of zombies. Such as:

Type A: People who've basically been slathered in grey paint then told to walk as though they're almost pooing themselves. (The original Dawn of the Dead, for example)

Type B: People with red contact lenses who've basically been told to scare the shit out of me forever. (28 Days Later)

Type C: People with funny coloured contact lenses that kind of turn into these withered stick insect looking things, then get you in the dark. (Rec)

In all of the above movies there are plenty of examples of what you can and cannot do to save yourself. If you're being hounded by pooing people slathered in grey paint, there's plenty of time for you to run away. And maybe laugh, while you're doing it. You can build a mall fortress, or possibly shoot a lot of guns at the ravening hordes.

If you live in England and are suddenly beset by running maniacs with red contact lenses, however, you may find yourself fairing slightly less well. For one, England has no guns. But we're also a bit like Game of Thrones only older, so there are bound to be swords lying around for you to grab.

As for the advice on the last type of zombie, which seems to be the result of some sort of demonic possession and ends with you trapped in a pitch black room with something night vision can't quite identify, I'd say the best bet is just to sob and let it eat you.

Or at least, that's the advice I took from Rec. But there are plenty of other zombie movies with better advice, I promise! Zombieland even actually gives you the advice in handy bullet points, which I dutifully noted down in my Big Book of Being Shit Scared of Zombies.

However, there's one point that all of these movies and books have never quite dwelt on. One crucial bit of advice that's missing:

What if the zombie you're facing is a total hottie?

Now I know what you're thinking. Charlotte, zombies can't be hot! And maybe you're also thinking: God, I hope Charlotte's book is not about hot zombies (I swear to God, it's not. It's about totally hot humans going at it menage stylee in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, to counteract all the death and horror they've been through).

But you know me, people. I cannot abide Mancandy wastage, no matter how covered in grey paint it may be. I will not sit idly by and see good manbeef go to waste, even if said manbeef has started losing parts. How on earth would someone like me cope with seeing a perfectly good slice of hunk turn to zombie? How could I raise my machete/Ice from Game of Thrones and thwart this handsome blight on the human race?

Well never fear, gentle reader. I have compiled a handy guide on how to identify and destroy the hot zombie!

First up, we have an easy one for your edification:

The signs you need to look past the hotness for are obvious, here. I mean, rationally our loins will know that this is Aidan Gillen. We can see evidence of his masterful hair, his intense Irishness, his glorious man-stubble. His mouth is still a lush garden of kissability. But you'll probably find yourself resisting the urge to kiss even without my advice, because one of his eyes appears to have popped out of the socket and is rolling around on his face.

Of course, if that's not enough to help you resist the hotness and fight the zombie, there are also the patches of decaying flesh. I have represented these patches by liberally spraying Aidan with the spraycan from MS Paint, because I am shit at drawing. Apologies if this flaw of mine one day winds up getting you all killed by hot zombies.

And now onto the second example of undead beauty:

Although Bradley is trying to pretend he's not a zombie by employing a broad and handsome grin, we can clearly see by the undead eyes that he's already become one of the unclean, diseased, rabid monster creatures. And if the undead eyes from out of the movie Krull were not enough of a clue, the fact that one of his ears is hanging off almost certainly is.

Don't be fooled, people. Reach for that axe, even as your loins demand you snog his undead face off. Maybe literally.

And finally, we get to the hardest test of all: hot zombie Armie Hammer. Because of course Armie is so handsome that zombification barely touches him. It tries to make him turn grey and lose limbs, but a scientific condition I've called "Extreme Cockmastery" keeps him almost whole and normal looking. You find yourself drawn in by his promises of "Unh unh" and his rabid gargling. He's even worn a crafty pair of sunglasses to hide his demonic eyes from your view. Of course the sunglasses are hideous, but that's not the point.

The Armie Hammer level of hot zombie is wily. But if you're careful, and you keep your wits about you, you can clearly see blood running out of his left ear. Blood running out of someone's ear during a zombie apocalypse is almost never a good sign.

And that's the end of my guide. If you enjoyed, and would like to hear more about the zombie apocalypse and also about lusty bonking, please visit here on Wednesday:

I promise you won't regret it.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Party Games

So I'm doing another promo - I know, I know. I shouldn't have so many fabulously talented friends. So little time, so many great books to talk about!

But this time it's the turn of my lovely writer friend Elise Hepner, who's very first extra special release came out from Ellora's Cave last week! Hooray!

Show her some new writer love and check out the cover:

The blurb:

William’s boring lovemaking leaves Catherine unsatisfied. Harboring fantasies she can’t put into words, she longs for a sexual voice but finds herself too stifled by her proper social upbringing.

When a blackout hits their resort hotel and William proposes a sexy version of hide-and-seek, playtime takes on a whole new salacious meaning. Charlotte’s mind races with sexual scenarios. But even her fantasies fail to compare to the titillating adventure her husband has planned for her—with the help of another man.

Soon everything she knows about lust will be irreversibly changed—and she’ll moan for more.

And a fabulously sexy excerpt:

Reader Advisory: Contains scorching-hot M/M/F sexual scenarios, a woman giving orders on an erotic high and slight trickery.

Her fingers trembled—should she risk giving into fear and walk out of the closet or wait for William? Without a doubt he’d planned this as a sexual hunt. A naughty bedroom game. But huddled among heirloom furs in her thin silk slip, she was already prey.
“I’ve got you.”
She couldn’t mistake that wicked laugh. It was him. David, who had been a friend at galas she’d attended, but whose body she couldn’t help tracing with her gaze as he had made his way around the room. He was magnetic—and something she shouldn’t want. Which made her desire flare to life every time he had kissed her hand in formal greeting. Through her glove, his lips had been a seal of heat that had built underneath her flesh.
Until a sexual beast she hadn’t known she held inside roared to get out. Had it been fate that he had found her here? Or perhaps something more devious. Either way she couldn’t push back the relief that flooded her limbs at the sound of his voice.
At last, a voice she knew. One of the doors to her left unlatched and creaked, jerking back to reveal a lean, masculine figure against the weather’s cruel backdrop. One of his large hands groped her breast and tweaked the tender nipple. She muffled a groan between her clenched teeth. Goodness, this was wrong—but he moved in beside her and closed the door.
His fingers crept over her body against the slide of silk. He was gentle, but underneath her skin there was an elated tingle where he touched her, his caress stripping her mind of all logical thought. She wanted him everywhere at once. His heavy palms pressed and curved against her like he would memorize her form in the dark. He found her every reactive spot.
Against his eagerness she rose to the occasion. Their breaths came out in loud, tortured rasps. The roar of rolling thunder silenced their noises as the darkness shrouded them from reality. When his hand grasped her hip and he drew her in tight against his body, his cock against her stomach was a heated, pulsing barrier between them.
“I’ve always wanted you, from that insipid garden party until this moment.”
“You’re my ultimate conquest. My sweet as sin fantasy. I want to please you as only an illicit lover can please his lady.” He whispered against her cheek so she could only focus on the low rumble of his voice. “You need me.”
She wouldn’t deny it.
“Then take me.” She sought out his lips. The thrill of possible sin with another man made her flesh burn from his touch.
William must have his fair share of dalliances outside their marriage bed. What would be the harm in her having just this one? Her husband worked nights often. She knew what the sewing circles whispered. William had never made any motion to make her doubt the gossip. If anything, his actions only enforced the rumors because he would come home at night with different women’s perfumes on his skin and wrinkles in his untucked shirts.
Briefly, the thought of her husband in an affair stung until she buried it away. They didn’t know each other well enough, like other married couples, for her to waste so much time on her emotions. Their courtship had never been a match of love, but their marriage was one of business between families.
So it didn’t make sense to waste pain on the hypothetical. It wasn’t as if she could change things. Where would hurt get her in the end? She wouldn’t be any better for it, so it was best for her to lock it away.
But surely William didn’t care enough for her for this to hurt him? He’d never done much but scold, reprimand or mount her―that is, when they saw each other at all. William couldn’t deny her curiosity. Not when David might bring her to life again. She couldn’t resist when the timing was so right.
If anything, William should be pleased that she might finally have fun in the bedroom—or a closet. Maybe this would teach her to bring her own desires to her husband. Wouldn’t that be ironic?
It was no secret that it took two to make a marriage. In or out of the bedroom. Though she and her husband had intercourse—because that was the only clinical thing to call it—often enough Charlotte rarely knew the whimsical pull of truly earth-shattering sex. Yes, she couldn’t begin to know how to ask for what she wanted—but William would probably laugh and then deny her everything.
David, on the other hand—he wouldn’t give her a choice in the matter. A hard, hot flush crept up her cheeks. There would be no going back now. She straightened her shoulders and came to her decision.
David held her back for a moment with his strong hands on her shoulders. Was he rethinking this? Caught between a frown and anger tightening her chest, she let it all go when he drew close again. Each inch was a mile. His tongue traced her lips in a sensory sweep that left her weak-kneed and dizzy.
As an excuse for something to do with her hands, she groped until she could begin to unbutton his dress shirt. When his mouth crushed hers, she took pleasure in exploring his hot, muscled upper body. God, it was much naughtier without lights.
When had been the last time she used the word naughty in her vocabulary? Not since school. And then it wasn’t for anything as serious as breaking a commandment or committing a sin. But if she was going to hell for the way David possessed her—body and soul—it was all worth it.
Now her hands trembled for an entirely different reason. Undeterred by his fingers inching up her slip, she raised her arms and her final protection slithered to the floor. In preparation for her husband, she’d removed all other garments that would get in his way before she got into the closet. William never liked to take his time. But now she leaned into David’s touch and tightened her grip on his body.
Determined to go slow with her exploration of his flesh—even knowing time wasn’t a luxury they had because of the game winding throughout the old resort hotel—she cupped the sides of his face in her palms. Under her hands his jaw hardened, a brief protest that died on his lips. He turned until his soft mouth delicately kissed her palm, sending a fluttery jolt of desire to her abdomen. Beneath his fingers she flushed from the attention as he traced her curves in tingling, barely there circles. Her fingers caressed his high cheekbones as she relied on her heightened sense of touch.
When his face tightened in a smile, she found the irresistible dimples that showed up whenever he complimented her at parties. Her fingers traced up and over his forehead, normally creased with concentration, and through his short, mussed curls. She didn’t need light to know and appreciate the raven color and feathery texture under her hands. A crash of thunder outside the room’s windowpanes made her startle and his wicked, honey brown irises lit up. From the crack in the closed doors there was just enough illumination to catch a glimpse of his cupid-bow lips parted in pleasure. His hungry gaze locked on her nude body.
“I like when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He coaxed her onward.
“When I glimpse my attraction and what I’ve wanted to do to you all those long months dancing in your eyes. I’m glad we understand each other.” She sealed her words with a scorching kiss of tongue and teeth. But it was with reluctance that she pulled back from his eager hands. “But we can only do this once. This is my time to be selfish, but I can’t take the prolonged guilt that these engagements take out of a person.”
“I think you’ve read too many romance novels.”
“Please. I’m serious, David.”
“All right,” He let out a small exhalation before returning to his deft work over of her body. “I’ll make it good then, my very best for the lady.”
Satisfied, she sank gratefully into his touch.

Awesome, eh? And she's lovely, too. So if you feel like reading some sexy shenanigans and supporting a new author, just click the link here:

Friday, May 6, 2011

Guest Post: Shoshanna Evers!

So today my blog is going to be graced with the illustrious presence of Shoshanna Evers, who wrote the amazeballs novella, Ginger Snap. Which is about ginger figging. Yep - you heard that right. IT'S ABOUT GINGER FIGGING.

And if you don't know what that is, look it up, look it up NAO. Also: I love her.

But enough about my love for a woman who is only the second person I know to write about actual ginger figging, and on to the purpose for her presence gracing. She has a new book out! Take it away, Shoshanna!

Thanks for having me on your blog, Charlotte!

I’ve been lucky enough to get to know Charlotte a bit through Twitter. It’s always fun to meet another author who likes to read and write the same type of stuff (read: smexybooks) I do.
My latest book from Ellora’s Cave sort of pushes the limit of anything I’ve written before, content-wise. This is the first time I’ve shown the heroine get pleasured by more than just one man (in the scene where she’s tied up and eaten out by a dozen or so men, ya know, no big deal), and it’s also the first time I wrote some F/F/M scenes.
Those were *fun* to write, although the story is ultimately about the Hero and the Heroine finding love with each other. I think that other girl in the equation needs to find her own soul mate, so I’m hoping I’ll find some time to write her story in the future.

Here’s the blurb and an adults-only excerpt for Chastity Belt:

Georgia Hearn has found the perfect way to make easy cash—performing an interactive BDSM-flavored stage show at the exclusive Gentlemen’s Club. When handsome GC client Jonathan Syler goes up onstage and locks her into a chastity belt, it’s all supposed to be part of the fun. But Jonathan makes it clear he won’t be unlocking her anytime soon.
Now she’s at his mercy—and has no choice but to see him again, since he holds the key to her pleasure. Literally.

Reader’s Advisory: This book contains a hot girl-on-girl tease and denial scene and some F/F/M action.
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age.
An Excerpt From: CHASTITY BELT
Copyright © SHOSHANNA EVERS, 2011 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

With the blindfold on, she had no idea how long she’d been there or how much longer she would be enduring the talented tongues of the Gentlemen’s Club clientele. Then she heard a familiar voice. Jonathan. Her pulse inexplicably raced at the sound of his voice as he leaned into her ear. She could feel the warmth of his skin, feel the whisper of his hot breath on her ear and smell just the slightest whiff of expensive cologne.
“Have you had enough, Georgia?”
Georgia didn’t know what to say. She instinctively tried to close her legs, forgetting again that they were bound far apart.
She felt his hand drop between her thighs and she moaned as he dipped his finger deep inside her pussy—and there was definitely no plastic wrap there. His finger felt so good and so wrong at the same time. She shouldn’t be letting him do this. How could she want Jonathan so much when she had just been thoroughly sated by a dozen other men?
Of course. It was all that talk about the chastity belt. Casey had to have been behind that—she must have tutored Jonathan on exactly what to say to have Georgia begging for more. That had to be it. Right?
She heard the other men in the audience start cheering and clapping. What on earth were they going on about now? Then she felt it.
Something smooth and cold as ice was being slid under her buttocks. It felt like a thin piece of metal nestled against her ass crack. The same metal, but wider it seemed, pressed against her pussy and then she felt Jonathan’s hands firmly gripping her waist. She heard a click.
The applause grew louder. What on earth? She fought the urge to say “umbrella” and get the hell out of there. She wouldn’t, not now.
The blindfold came off. Georgia squinted at the bright spotlight until her eyes readjusted. Jonathan smiled and knelt before her, dropping a tender kiss to her inner thigh in a quick, almost secretive motion before he uncuffed first one ankle and then the other. She looked down—what had he placed on her?
She gasped. It couldn’t be. Georgia didn’t say a word until Jonathan uncuffed her wrists. The she immediately grabbed at what looked like a stainless steel thong between her legs. It was literally locked into place.
No way. She had to be dreaming. Fantasizing still. Because if this was actually happening, then she was in way over her head.
“Get this off of me!” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm.
Jonathan grinned. “Of course, it’s just part of the show,” he whispered. “The men just like to see it, that’s all. Now pick up your money and blow a kiss to your fans.”
Her money? Oh, that’s right! She looked on the ground below the chair and saw it was covered in ten- and twenty-dollar bills. She grinned and picked them up quickly, trying to look as sexy and graceful as possible while crawling around under the chair on her knees. She couldn’t count it just yet, she’d have to wait until later. After Jonathan unlocked the chastity belt.
Georgia picked her rumpled clothing off the floor before she stood and did as Jonathan said, smiling and blowing kisses to the audience. She walked off the stage, naked except for the metal device locked around her groin, and sauntered into the back office. The cash sure felt nice crumpled in her hand.
She looked over her shoulder. Good. Jonathan was following her with the key. She knocked on the office door and when she didn’t hear an answer she stepped inside. Jonathan stepped into the office and closed the door quietly behind him.
“You did great,” he said.
My goodness, he’s a handsome devil. Georgia smiled and turned to put her bra on.
“I’ve seen you naked,” he said, amusement creeping into his deep voice. “Why would you turn around so I can’t see your breasts as you dress?”
Georgia laughed and turned around again. “I don’t know. Can you unlock me so I can put my panties and skirt back on?”
“You can put your skirt back on over the chastity belt.”
The thought stopped her cold. Her fantasy was just that, a fantasy. She could never act it out in real life, even if the thought turned her on. It just wasn’t rational. “Um, no thanks. I’m leaving now, so…unlock me.”
Jonathan fingered the key in his hand before slipping it into his pocket. “No.”
What does he mean, no? Her pussy clenched in excitement at his refusal, but she shook her head. It had been fun to talk about, but this wasn’t actually going to happen. She was done. She was taking her money and going home. Georgia quickly counted through the cash in her hand. Whoa. Two hundred dollars. That plus the one hundred from Vincent and Mary Ann and she had just made three hundred dollars in an hour.
She looked up at Jonathan and sighed. “Umbrella, then. I’m ready to call it a night.”
“And I said no. I will not unlock your chastity belt.” Jonathan’s handsome face was serious and thoughtful.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said the safeword. I said umbrella, that means I’m serious and you have to unlock me.”
Jonathan took a step toward her and she had to tilt her chin up to gaze into his deep brown eyes. “I’m not playing a game anymore, Georgia. You’re mine now. The chastity belt stays—for a full week, just like you told me.” His lips came down on hers then, pressing against her mouth until she felt herself melting into his kiss, opening her mouth to receive his tongue despite her best intentions not to encourage him.
“Please,” she whispered. “Unlock me.” But even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that if he did unlock her, she’d be disappointed. This man—this stranger—was making her fantasy come true.

You can buy Chastity Belt from Ellora's Cave here. If you have a Kindle, you can get the MobiPocket format (.prc). For the Nook, get the ePub format. If you want to read on your computer, get the Adobe PDF. :)

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Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Mancandy Tuesday: Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish

Yes it's more Game of Thrones just shhh ok? Let me have my feelings. Let me have my feelings. My feelings are burning out of control in the groinal region for this GQ motherfooker right here:

Rolling into King's Landing in his pimp mobile, with his badass self all up in Ned Stark's face, going on about how Catelyn Stark totally gave it up to him that one time because Jesus Christ how could she not? I'd have given it up to him the moment he clicked his fingers, despite the fact that he is:

a) A fictional character in a series of fantasy novels by George RR Martin.

b) A total pervert, perving all over a thirteen year old girl. Though luckily, Sansa Stark looks about twenty-seven in the TV adaptation, so I don't have to get too skeeved out every time I watch Aidan Gillen (the guy who plays Petyr) almost lick her shoulder with his long, lascivious tongue. And yes I know Aidan Gillen has a long lascivious tongue because over the weekend I watched him RIM SOME GUY on the TV show Queer as Folk. Which begs two questions: why did I not have this show in my life before? And: why did I not have this show in my life before? IT HAS AIDAN GILLEN RIMMING SOMEONE IN IT. HIS TONGUE ACTUALLY GOES BETWEEN SOME GUY'S CHEEKS I SWEAR TO GOD I ALMOST MELTED.

c) A complete bastard. No, no really, he's a bastard. And I'm not even really spoiling what happens next in the TV show saying that, because just fooking look at him, for God's sake:

They couldn't have made him more obviously evil looking if they'd given him a scar down one side of his face and a pointed black hat.

And even if the look of him with his evil pedo beard isn't enough, the fact that he is played by Aidan Gillen should be an almighty giveaway. Because not only has Aidan Gillen made a career out of playing some of the skeeviest characters man ever put to celluloid, there is also a picture of him out there looking like this:

I mean, just take a long look at that picture. Have you ever in your life seen a more evil looking human being? I didn't even know they MADE humans that evil. It's like all the evil in the world is shining right out of his eyeballs. I'm afraid to look at them, and they're only made out of pixels on my computer screen!

Though in all honesty, that picture is probably like the movie Ring. You look into his demonic eyes and the next thing you know, he's crawling out of your computer screen in a weird backwards crab double jointed horror show, to eat your immortal soul. I can feel him eating it now, as I type this. I want to urge you to run, run from the terror of Aidan Gillen's unholy stare, but the truth is I'd only be doing it so he crawls out of my computer screen and not yours.

I mean, I'm bound to get a couple of minutes in between screaming and being turned into a rigid corpse. I could totally do him in that time. He's so hot I'm certain it'd only take me a matter of seconds to tear his kit off and have sex with his face.

I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He's evol. Just look at him. He probably does it the bad way. With, you know. Things. And stuff.

By God I want to do things to his stuff.