posted in Blog, Sunday Snog | Tagged: excerpt, Sunday Snog, Tasty Italian, Total-E-Bound
Well folks, I’m excited again because tomorrow is another big Blisse release! This time it’s a little lust bite story called Tasty Italian. here’s the blurb:
She wanted pizza, she got love.
Fiona was bored with her life but she didn’t realise that simply deciding to visit the local Italian restaurant for dinner one night would change it forever. When she laid eyes on the fit, young Italian waiter she fell instantly in lust. Carlo returned that ardour but how could their relationship develop when he had to move back to his home in Italy?
And now a tasty snog!
“Fiona, no sleeping, please, you are not allowed.” Carlo’s voice broke into her thoughts and she opened her eyes. She thought for a split second about admitting that she was nowhere near sleeping but decided not to.
“Sorry, I’ve had a long day.” She wasn’t technically lying.
“I know but is too dangerous to sleep yet. We must make sure you’re okay first.”
“Yeah, sorry.” She smiled sheepishly. “I was just so relaxed and it’s so late. I’m trying not to fall asleep, honest.”
“I know, cara mia, but let us see if we can do something to distract you from the need to sleep.”
Carlo shifted on the sofa. He stretched his long, lithe body up towards her and twisted at the same time, straddling her legs. His face was directly in front of her before she’d had time to really work out what was going on. She was hot and flustered and didn’t know where to put her hands.
Her gaze locked with his and she lost herself in the depth of his dark chocolate eyes. She felt hypnotised and when his lips pressed against her she gasped with shock. She hadn’t realised he’d moved forward. Had he or had she been pulled in by his stare? She didn’t know but she put everything she felt in that kiss.
Her common sense switched off, the little voice of doubt was quietened and she kissed back with all the ferocity of lust she could muster. All the heat, all the longing and all the passion inside her let loose with every undulation of her lips. He met every move and she was sure she heard and felt him moan. She gripped his sides and slid her hands up and down in the rhythm of their kiss.
His shirt rose and she managed to insinuate her fingers under the light material to stroke his hot flesh. As if her touch was the permission he needed to take the next step, Carlo slid the hand that had sat comfortingly on her waist up to cup her breast. His thumb wagged back and forth over her nipple which hardened beneath the lacy material of her bra. She moaned, which obviously encouraged him all the more as his hand first moved up then sank back down into the V of her cleavage to grasp at her naked breast beneath her bra. Her blouse buttons flew open as his hand forced them loose and she really didn’t care if any of them popped off. He could rip the material from her body for all she cared as long as he kept touching her. His caress was intoxicating.
“Mia bellissima, God, you drive me wild,” he gasped.
She opened her eyes to be confronted by his sincere gaze.
“I am mad for you, for your pale skin and your wide eyes. I cannot think when I am with you.”
“Don’t think,” she moaned. “Do.”
posted in Blog | Tagged: love bad boys, Paige Turner, Temporary Trouble, Tempting Temps
Welcome the brilliantly named Paige Turner to the blog today. She’s brought some bad boys with her!
Thanks, Victoria, for allowing me to guest on your blog. I’m enormously excited about the release of Temporary Trouble, part of Total-E-Bound’s Tempting Temps collection.
The heroes in Temporary Trouble are very naughty boys indeed – and rest assured they get exactly what they deserve! But there’s just something so delicious about a bad boy, isn’t there? Whether it’s a mischievous prankster like Ben and Aaron, an emotionally distant, tortured soul like Fitzwilliam Darcy, or a brooding anti-hero along the lines of Mr Rochester. Angst-ridden vampires, swashbuckling pirates, rouges and rakehells – we like our heroes tall, dark and dangerous.
So what is it about bad boys that makes them so appealing?
Part of the reason, of course, is that a good romance needs conflict and oodles of it. There’s nothing particularly page-turning about an average young couple meeting at the coffee shop, going on a few pleasant dates, then settling down to live a happy but incident-free life, occasionally having a minor row because one of them forgot to pick up more milk.
But a werewolf and a vampire trying to come to terms with their desire for one another? A jaded Earl duelling for his lover’s honour? A broken-hearted cowboy, hurt once and determined to keep love at arm’s length? Yes please!
But I think the more important factor is that these heroes are only superficially bad. That jaded Earl just needs something important enough to fight for, and then we see his true colours as a man of high principle, loyalty and selflessness. The cowboy is distant because he’s been hurt before – with a little compassion and understanding, he blossoms into a tender and generous lover.
And, in Temporary Trouble, all live-for-the-moment pranksters Ben and Aaron need is the right woman to show them there’s a time and place for fun and games, and that’s in the bedroom, not in the boardroom.
Who are your favourite heroes? Do you go for wounded cowboys, or world-weary aristocrats? Wicked pirates? Deliciously dark vampires? Or maybe bad boys don’t appeal to you at all – let me know in the comments!
Buy Temporary Trouble at Total-e-Bound
Blurb: When jokes in work time turn into serious playtime.
For Ben and Aaron, bored of the same old temping assignments, playing practical jokes makes the job a bit less boring and keeps them out of more serious trouble. That is, until their female boss catches Ben on the photocopier with his trousers down, and sees the sexual tension the boys haven’t quite admitted to themselves.
A good boss has to discipline her staff, and Ben has been a very naughty boy indeed. And what better job for her other temporary office boy, Aaron, than to help her administer the punishment Ben deserves?
For more info follow Paige’s blog:
Friends Friday -Justine Elyot!
posted in Blog, Friends Friday | Tagged: Bollywood, Friends Friday, hot men, Justine Elyot
Welcome Justine Elyot, smut writer extraordinaire and all round lovely lady to Friends Friday today. We’re in for a Bollywood treat!
I’ve always had an eye for a good-looking man of South Asian heritage, so it wasn’t exactly difficult to dream up a swoonworthy man (or two) for my story Bollywood Superstar.
For a start, here are some of the men I’ve admired in the past.
When Dr Fred Fonseca (Jimi Mistry) took over the Albert Square surgery in EastEnders he made a startling and very welcome change from outgoing medic Dr Legg. He went on to be even more doe-eyed and gorgeous in East Is East.
Naveen Andrews caught my eye in the TV adaptation of Hanif Kureishi’s The Buddha of Suburbia, long before getting Lost.
The EastEnders connection again – pretty, pretty Ash Ferreira (Raji James). Especially when he was wearing his specs.
But this was the one who inspired the character of Krishnan. He’s a boring character now (and I no longer watch Coronation Street anyway) but when Dev first came into the show, I was captivated. Especially when he had that one night fling with Deirdre! OMG! He was a raffish, laconic playboy, but he worked hard in his grocery shop when he wasn’t schmoozing in nightclubs. He also had this deadpan, dry humour that just disappeared from later episodes – and I’ve given that to Krishnan as well.
Meet Krishnan and judge for yourself in this extract from Bollywood Superstar:
“So where’s Sunya?” he asked, lugging a boxful of packet rice from the store-room. “You’ll need to get going soon, won’t you? What time’s the audition?”
“We have to be there at three. But I’m going alone. Sunya’s ill. I’ll just have to get the train.”
Krishnan unbent his spine, drawing himself to his full impressive height, jabbing a long finger at his assistant.
“Like that? You’re taking the train to Nottingham dressed like something out of the pages of the Kama Sutra? Oh no, Jas, I don’t think so.”
Jas stared at Krishnan, his presumption provoking conflicting emotions of indignation and excitement.
“What’s it to you?”
“If I’m going to be your big brother, I should act like one. You can’t have it both ways.”
“Krishnan, I’m going to this audition, and you aren’t going to stop me.”
“No. But I’m driving you there.”
He put a hand on her shoulder, steering her towards the door and fishing for his mobile phone at the same time.
“What about the shop?” She watched him change the sign from ‘Open’ in six languages to ‘Closed’.“I’ll call Ashok. He can cover until we get back. I’ll just have to close up until he gets here.”
“There’s really no need, I can―”“No, you can’t.” He pointed a key ring, eliciting a bleep from a sleek silver car parked across the street. “Come on.”
What Krishnan missed out on in terms of the playboy lifestyle, he made up for with its accoutrements. His car was an expensive sports model, upholstered in luxury fabrics with a top-of-the-range entertainment system on the dash. Jasmine had been in it before, but she never tired of the smell of wealth once the doors were closed – an aroma she rarely encountered in her life.Krishnan sniffed the air as the key turned in the ignition and the engine started up its moneyed purr.
“What’s that perfume you’re wearing? Or rather, it’s wearing you. I might have to open the windows.”
“It’s cold,” complained Jas as the glass buzzed down an inch, letting in brisk October air.
“Maybe you could consider wearing something then,” came Krishnan’s unsympathetic reply.
“I am wearing something.” Jas looked down, rather guiltily, at her bare midriff with its delicate gold chains looping from her pierced navel.
“Barely,” he muttered, turning left on to Belgrave Road.
“You don’t think I should be a Bollywood star, do you?”
Krishnan sighed heavily. “Better than being a footballer’s wife, I suppose.”
“It’s nothing like being a footballer’s wife! Do you see them as being on a par?”
“Isn’t it all about the shiny things and the adulation?”“No! Maybe for the footballer’s wives…but to be a Bollywood star you have to work really hard. You know how many years I’ve been doing Bollywood dance classes! You know the hours I put in.”
“I know you are talented and you work hard, yes. I just think these dreams of riches and fame and all that are a bit…silly.”
“But you dream of riches. Why else would you slave away from six till ten every day of the week?”
“When I get my riches, Jas, I’ll know I’ve earned them.”
“Krish!” She wanted to grab his wrist in that chunky gold watch and wrench it from the steering wheel, force him to listen properly to her, to give her some respect. But that would be a bit dangerous, so she didn’t.
“Besides,” said Krishnan, obviously feeling he’d gone too far and needed to do something to silence the angry rattle of Jasmine’s bangles. “Who will make the mango lassis if you go to Mumbai?”
“I’ll leave you my secret recipe,” said Jas, marginally mollified.“I hope you do. Those are my biggest earner. The best lassis in town. Half of Leicester will go into mourning if they can’t buy them any more.”
“Hmm.”
Jasmine folded her goose-pimpling arms and hugged herself as they left the urban streets behind and headed for the open countryside.
Looking sideways at Krishnan, she wondered what he was thinking. His lazy-lidded eyes rarely gave anything away. What did he really think of her? It was true they were different personalities, but so were Kareena and her co-star Shahid in Jab We Met.
Oh, what did it matter? It wasn’t Krishnan’s attention she needed to hook now. It was Ajay Amir’s. Bollywood’s premier heart-throb, the go-to guy for any role requiring a bare-chested scene, the man whose severe and beautiful profile had gazed down at her from her bedroom wall since she first started watching the movies.
A fab Friday thank you to Victoria for letting me drool over fit men on her blog today – thank you all for reading too.
A taste of Italy at Amy Valenti’s Blog.
posted in Blog | Tagged: Amy Valenti, Competition, contest, excerpt, guest blog, Justine Elyot, Silver Screen Dream, Tasty Italian
Hi folks! I’m guest blogging again today and introducing you to my next release which is out on Monday! Time flies, I tell you. Anyway, I share an excerpt from Tasty Italian at Amy Valenti’s Blog so make sure you pop over and check it out!
Also please remember that I’ve got the Bollywood thing going on at Justine Elyot’s blog and if you tell me what you think of when you think of Bollywood you could win a copy of Silver Screen Dream. So head over to Justine Elyot’s blog before Monday to enter!
posted in Blog, FlashFiction | Tagged: Bollywood, flash fiction, free read, Johnny the Djinn, Silver Flash, Silver Screen Dream, Wank Wednesday
Today’s Wank Wednesday prompt which is #border and the Silver Flash prompt is “Well, I don’t know about you, but I like to know what I’m getting into.” And I’m continuing last week’s Bolly Flash which has now got an official title! So here’s the continuing adventures of Luara and Raul from Silver Screen Dream
I sat in Raul’s caravan, propped seductively along the sofa and waited. It wasn’t particularly comfortable so I was thinking of unwinding myself when Rahul flew in and shut the door behind him. “How did you get away?” I asked
“Oh, I just told Amala her haired looked a little frizzy. The star of our show went mental and refused to film anything more until her hair was fixed. I ran off and left her arguing with the director.” “That’s a bit cruel,” I slapped his arm playfully as he moved closer to me.
“Oh, it’ll be fine, that woman has a meltdown over the slightest thing. Anyway, I want to forget her now, I’m admiring the sexy woman before me.”
“Do you like it?” I asked twiddling at the material.
“I love it,” he responded, “the way your curves are all accented by the flowing material and the shimmering of it that makes me think if I just look hard enough I could see your nipples is very alluring.”
He ran a hand down my arm and linked his fingers with mine then encouraged me up out of my seat. “Dance for me, Janeman, please?” “i don’t know if I-”
“Please?” He cut me off and laid his hands on my hips, “just sway for me, move your body for me, let me see how you look.”
I swayed nervously from foot to foot and looked down at the floor, my cheeks hot and I imagined as red as my sari. “That’s it, my dove, that’s it, keep moving, I love it, dance for me.”
I looked up and met his gaze. He really was appreciating every move of my uncoordinated body. I found his open encouragement made me move in a slower, softer way. I moved my hips as well as my feet and soon my shoulders joined in. “Yes, yes, you’ve got it now,” he crooned as I waved my hands in front of me, beckoning like I’d seen in so many Bollywood films before. He came closer and I laid a delicate hand on the soft white silk of his costume.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I like to know what I’m getting into.” He said, hooking a finger into my Sari and working the material free.
“Me too,” I said and popped open the buttons beneath my fingers until the silk shirt fell away and revelled his chest adorned with the familiar silver Amulet, the travelling home of his Djinn Johnny who I was certain was back in the hotel in his preferred home, the tea kettle.
He continued to unwind me and I spun around for him like a dirty Bollywood ballerina. I spun around and got dizzier and dizzier, the golden patterns on the body and boarder of the fabric turning into a flame like blur as I twirled. I giggled when I finally ended up in his arms, naked, the soft, sensual fabric in a pool around my feet.
He didn’t speak, he kissed me with a ferocity that set my blood on fire. He laid me back on the sofa behind me and kissed down my body. His lips skimmed down over my heaving breasts, tickling and taunting my stiffened nipples and continued with purpose over my stomach, his every kiss feeling like reverent adoration.
At the junction of my thighs he moved me until he was sat between my legs and his kisses continued, his tongue swirled like a Bollywood dancer over all the creases and bumps that made me buck and scream with delight. My lover knew just what I liked and he kissed and sucked my delicate pussy lips with great care and attention.
“I need to be in you,” he gasped as he came up for air, denying my the pleasure that was about to break. Hurry, oh hurry, Rahul,” I begged, “I’m so close.”
He pulled down his voluminous pants and exposed his hardness. I licked lips as I lifted up to watch then sank back with a moan as he pressed his cock into me. I ran my fingers down to my clit. I needed to come and as I rubbed against my delicate nub I could feel his pelvis above me.
He leaned in and fucked me hard. Slammed his dick into me over and over again. he was moaning, hissing and calling my name and all I could do was pant and growl and scream “yes,” over and over as I teetered on the hostile border between joy and ecstasy.
I slipped over and my body exploded with pleasure. I came hard, pushing my face to Rahul’s for a kiss as I contracted around his cock. He roared into my mouth as he came and I drank in the sound of his climax. We shuddered together, gasped and moaned as he settled to lie between my breasts, resting on me in the afterglow.
“I will have to buy you a thousand beautiful saris,” Rahul mumbled, “and see you in and out of every one.” “A thousand? That borders on obsession my love,” I chuckled.
“I cannot help being obsessed with your beauty,” he replied.
“No wonder I love you.” I stroked his hot, sticky skin absent-mindedly.
“Rahul?”
“Yes, Janeman,”
“Would you wear a Sari for me?”
“For you, anything,” he replied, “though my hairy legs will not look so good beneath the delicate fabric.”
“Make sure I’m out of the damn country for that,” a familiar voce echoed from the amulet around Rahul’s neck. “Johnny,” he cursed, “you’re not meant to be here.”
“And you’re not meant to be shagging your missus, you’re meant to be filming.” The djinn’s voice replied snappily.
They continued to argue, I settled back and smiled. What a wonderful life, a djinn, a Hollywood hunk and the life of my dreams. It might have been bordering on the ridiculous but I thought it was all Bolly-Brilliant.
This is all I could give you within the Silver Flash limit of 1000 words but never fear, I’m going to extend this baby and make it available to you all as a free read so stay tuned!
If you enjoyed this check out the other Wank Wednesday entries and also be sure to visit all the Silver Flashers below! Lots of hot fiction to brighten up your Wednesday!
About Victoria Blisse
Victoria Blisse is a Mother, Wife, Christian, Manchester United Fan and Award Winning Erotica Authoress.
» Read More
Vote for Victoria
Blog Tour Host
Blisse Bling
Courtesy of those nice folk at Total-e-Bound you can now get some Blisse Bling.. Click Here to see whats available.
Awards
Partners
