Friday, January 22, 2010

NEW RELEASE! All in a Valentine Day's Work

Take one sexy building super and add lots of naughty tenants.

V-Day is only weeks away! I'm sure you'll be bombarded with plenty of sweet romances until then, but I've got something a little different for you. "All in a Valentine Day's Work" is the erotic story of Lexi's bisexual trek through an apartment building full of naughty tenants. I can't even begin to tell you how hot this book I'll let the marketing materials do that for me LOL.

Before I hand you over, I just want to say I snuck a peek at this ebook and--visually--it is truly gorgeous. What a lovely job Shadowfire Press has done with it! I'm really impressed.

And now, without further ado,

All in a Valentine Day's Work by Giselle Renarde

A 'Be My Naughty Valentine' themed story

Genre: erotic bisexual Valentine themed story

Warnings: contains both m/f, f/f and menage/voyeurism

Heat Rating: Fire


I'm here to fix your plumbing....

Lexi the Sexi building superintendent (okay, assistant super) thinks she's taking Valentine's Day by storm. She doesn't do ‘romance' or ‘relationships.' Casual sex with attractive tenants is more her style. After an exhausting porn-watching session with a cute guy in the building, the beautiful Mrs. Suraj won't release her until those rusty pipes are fixed. The sexy super comes home to a pussycat pair of college friends desperate for someone to help them out with their Valentine's Day gift to each other: homemade porn! For Lexi, gettin' it on is all in a Valentine Day's work!


"Today is Saint Valentine's Day," she said. Her tone of voice was sweet almost to the point of being patronizing, like a school teacher.

"Yeah...." I couldn't stop staring at her neck. It was so long. And it met up seamlessly with her jaw line. Her contours flowed like silk. This Mrs. Suraj was a woman of incredible, indescribable beauty. "Oh," I said, snapping back into reality. "Valentine's, yeah it is."

Taking my hand between her soft palms, she asked, "Do you have a Valentine?"

I held my breath. I didn't want to hate her, but that question made me grit my teeth every time. "No," I said. No, I didn't have a goddamn Valentine to waste my money on. What a stupid holiday....

Sunita must have sensed my hostility. She changed gears. "When I was growing up in India, nobody had heard of Saint Valentine's Day. Now, you go to India and it is a big thing for the young people there. They love this idea of celebrating love and romance. It's like rock-and-roll was. It's a rebellion. It's good for them, I think."

"Oh," I said. I wasn't sure why she was telling me any of this, but I suddenly felt badly for snapping at her. It was undeserved.

Changing gears yet again, she went on to say, "My husband and I married for business reasons, not for love. It was more of a corporate merger than a marriage. From our second bedroom, he runs a textile business. From this


"Let me guess," I interrupted, looking around at the rolls of fabric strewn about the room and the sewing machine in the corner. Not to mention her trendy threads. "You're a fashion designer?"

She giggled. Her voice was like music. "I make some clothing, yes, but costumes mainly. Both our businesses are becoming highly successful. I have contracts with a major theatre company and a few smaller film productions."

Noticing the bed was draped in layers of fabrics, I said, "If this is your bedroom, where do you sleep?"

"There is a bed somewhere underneath this mess," she said, sorting through fabric. "I sleep in here and my husband sleeps on the couch in his office. That is my problem." Sunita must have noticed me eyeing the door, because she shifted to block the exit. Okay, that was a little weird.

I started to ramble, "If you moved your office into the dining room, you and your husband wouldn't have to contend with all this fabric at the end of the day. Your bedroom should be your sanctuary. When you enter it, you should forget all the problems of the outside world."

"Even so," she said. "My husband has no time for me. And even if he had time, he would still have no idea how to please a woman." She took a step toward me. "He has no clue how to give me pleasure."

Gazing at Sunita's long black hair, her glowing cinnamon skin, and her

delicate features, I admit I was tempted. And who could blame me? Her blouse was tight, and buttoned almost all the way to the neck. From her perfectly proportioned hips flowed a long skirt. I was drooling to see what was underneath.

"I'm not exactly sure why I'm here," I lied, trying to appear puzzled.

"I've seen you around the building and, forgive me if I'm wrong, but judging from the clothes you wear and your short-short hair, I thought you might..." She was searching for the right words, I guess. " might have some experience in pleasuring women?"

I gasped. I tried not to. It seemed really nerdy to react so obviously, but I couldn't help it. True, my tank top and cargo pants were a far cry from the smart outfits most city girls wore, but I always hated it when people pigeonholed me based on my clothes or the fact that I fixed things for a living.

When Sunita brushed my bare arm with her fingers, all bets were off. Man Alive, she looked at me so seductively I had to let it go. I wanted her. I couldn't resist. "But your husband's in the next room..." I stammered. Not that I cared all that much, it just seemed a little rude to cheat on him on Valentine's Day. Or any other day, I guess.

"Oh, he's working," she said with a shrug. "Nothing can distract him from his business. Trust me." I had to be dreaming! No way this was really happening.

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