Monday, September 30, 2013

Here's What's Going to Happen (Yes, there's a sea monster)

Later this month, you can expect an anthology from me. It'll be called "Blood Addict" and it'll be full of paranormal erotic romance stories, many of which have a BDSM and/or menage edge.

If you just can't wait, or you like to pick and choose your stories, I'm making it easy for you.  I'm releasing five of Blood Addict's eight stories as ebooks.

But it's up to you.  You've got choice, people!  You can read what you want.  Like "Beneath the Ice," first published by the now defunct loveyoudivine Alterotica, now reissued at the insistence of one very persistent reader:

Beneath the Ice

Sea monster, Inuit legend, paranormal erotica

By Giselle Renarde 

The sea monster Kaloopalooit lives in the cracks of ocean ice, devouring the children of the Arctic.

When Enooya bets her husband she's a better fisher than he is, she sets off unperturbed to the fissures in the sea ice. After all, the Kaloopalooit is just an imaginary monster the elders dreamed up to scare kids.

Enooya discovers just how real the Kaloopalooit is when it drags her into the icy water. The sea monster is beautiful and horrible, shimmering and bizarre. In exchange for breath, it demands that Enooya secure children for its dinner. Enooya has a better idea: Why not sample the delicacy called woman?

Beneath the Ice is an erotic adaptation of an Inuit folktale.  Appears in the anthology "Blood Addict."   

Word Count: 5,300


A creature burst from the giant hole, dreadful and beautiful. Its glistening scales shone so brilliantly Enooya had to shield her eyes. Its flesh glittered like fields of diamonds, gleaming with every shade of the ocean. It was blue as the blue whale, green as algae, turquoise as the southern coasts, and as silver as the Arctic char.

Before Enooya could make out anything beyond its dazzling colour, a slick tail coiled around her ankles. Her knees knocked together with a bony bang, sending streaks of pain down her legs. The coil tightened, slithering up her thighs, around the corpulence of her ass, slippery and smooth around her waist. She fell limp under the creature’s stranglehold. Her eyes shut. Her head tilted to one side, too heavy to hold upright.

The monstrous thing tugged so hard Enooya fell back with a thud. Her shoulder blades smacked the sea ice, making her ribs rattle.  Her skull met the surface, and for a moment, everything went black.

Enooya didn’t struggle, even when the evil creature dragged her feet-first into the frigid ocean.  It tugged her body toward the fissure, and there wasn’t a thing she could do to escape. It had her in its power.

Where can you find it?  How about:


All Romance:
Coffee Time Romance:

Coming soon to other retailers!

And keep an eye on Donuts and Desires all week, because I'll be featuring more ebooks from the "Paranormal Erotic Shorts" series!
Giselle Renarde is a queer Canadian, avid volunteer, and contributor to more than 100 short story anthologies, including Best Women’s Erotica, Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Bondage Erotica, and Best Lesbian Romance. Ms Renarde has written dozens of juicy books, including Anonymous, Ondine, and Nanny State. Her book The Red Satin Collection won Best Transgender Romance in the 2012 Rainbow Awards. Giselle lives across from a park with two bilingual cats who sleep on her head.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Call for Submissions: Take the Heat (Criminal Erotica)

Listen up, writers, because this one's exciting.  The illustrious Skye Warren has announced a call for submissions for an erotic anthology that's positively... criminal...

Here's the call:

I have a new project I’m working on… an anthology. If you’re a writer, listen up! If you know writers, please share this!


Take the Heat – Hardened criminals on their sexiest behavior

Editor: Skye Warren
Deadline: December 31, 2013
Theme: Criminals, illegal activity
Word Count: 4,000 – 6,000
Payment: $100

The ultimate bad boys, criminals have the power to capture our attention and waken our darkest desires. Celebrate the illicit in short story format for this taboo contemporary anthology. Put your own spin on the following scenarios or surprise readers with a new one:

- A jaded cop arrests a street walker only to find himself seduced
- A CEO catches a thief in the act—and exacts his own punishment
- A cold assassin finds one target he can’t bring himself to terminate
- An escaped fugitive takes a hostage who just might save him
- A new arrival at the prison stirs up lust in a long-term inmate

TakeTheHeatMake it sexy and shocking, erotic and thoughtful. A strong plot and well-crafted writing are musts. Twists and mindfucks appreciated. Angst welcome. Romantic elements nice to have. Any variation of genders, pairings, and sex practices accepted, but please refrain from submitting incest, bestiality, or rape as titillation, and all characters should be over eighteen.

The anthology will receive marketing support, including print advertising, review exposure, and event placement. A one-time payment of $100 will be made for each accepted story. Preferred word count 4,000 to 6,000 words. Contract is for 3 years exclusive rights and non-exclusive rights thereafter.

Accepted stories will be professionally edited, but please ensure that your submission is complete and polished. Include the title, your name, pen name, mailing address, email address, and bio on the first page of your manuscript. Format the document in Times New Roman font, 12 point, double spaced, black font, in doc or rtf format.

Submissions are due December 31, 2013. Send your story to with subject line TAKE THE HEAT.

Permission to forward granted (and please do share with writers you know!) If you have any questions, please direct them to Thank you!
- See more at:

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Spoooooky Reads Promo Opportunity

Hello fellow authors,

This Halloween promo opportunity from Romance Junkies popped up, so I'm passing it along. If you've written anything spooky, read on:

::: Permission to Forward :::

If you want to join in please send the info below to Chaoscat@ with Halloween Read in the subject line.

RJ Halloween Reading List 

I’m compiling a list of Spooky Reads for Halloween for our Readers. If your story would be a good Halloween read – if it has Paranormal, ghosts, shifters etc then send me the info below. 

I will be posting the list in October on the RJ blog and in the Readers loop. I will also be asking if you want a copy of the list to post around on your social media. If you answer yes I will send you the list once it’s compiled. Clear as mud? ;-) 

Do you want a copy of the list when it’s completed?

Author Name:

Author Website:

Title of Book or Books:

Links to Excerpts and Buy links


Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Let's Invent an Author!

Have you ever wanted to play Dr. Frankenstein?  Well, play with me!

You may recall that I've been trying to decide whether or not to release some of my more controversial titles (including my upcoming 1970s sexy step-daughter novella "Dance for Daddy, Salome") under a pen name.  It was my girlfriend's idea to break the mold, and she always seems to know what she's talking about, so I think I'll go for it.

After a brainstorming session, we chose the name Lexi Wood.

Who Would? Lexi Wood!
Now it's time to write a bio.  Being a creative type, I should be able to write my own fake author bio, but where's the fun in that?  Let's invent this person together.

Pitch me, people.  Who is Lexi Wood?

Monday, September 23, 2013

Release Blitz: Mean Girls by Lucy Felthouse

Mean Girls by Lucy Felthouse

Adele Blackthorne is a big girl, a curvy chick. She knows it, and she’s been picked on all her life because of it. But she’s gotten to the stage where she doesn’t care. She may be Rubenesque, but she’s healthy, too. Much healthier than the mean girls at the leisure center that point and stare and say spiteful things about her. Adele rises above it all, and simply enjoys her secretive glances at the center’s hunky lifeguard, Oliver.

As the bullying of Adele becomes worse, Oliver finds it increasingly difficult not to intervene. He doesn’t want to get into trouble with work, but equally he can’t stand to see Adele treated in such a horrible way. Especially since he doesn’t agree that she’s fat and unattractive. He thinks she’s a seriously sexy woman, and would like to get to know her better. Much better.

Buy links:



As usual, Adele Blackthorne felt the weight of gazes on her as she walked from the changing room to the steps to get into the swimming pool. She was used to it by now, and had learned not to react, to just carry on as though she hadn’t noticed people staring and not-so-subtly pointing at her.

With a polite nod to Oliver, the lifeguard, as she passed him, Adele was grateful for his much more favorable reaction. If he thought she resembled a beached whale, he hid it much better than everyone else did. The warmth in his eyes as he nodded back even looked genuine. But she had no illusions, he probably slagged her off the moment he got into the staffroom, or home, talking about the fat woman who went swimming three times a week without fail. But for now, she’d pretend he didn’t. Pretend he thought she was sexy, and wanted to get lost in her abundant curves. God knows she’d like him to.

It was true, she was a big girl and she was most definitely aware of it. Ever since she’d gotten to the age where her excess weight could no longer be called puppy fat, she’d tried to do something about it. Every diet under the sun, ridiculous amounts of exercise… nothing worked. Adele had grown so depressed in her teens that she’d become bulimic. Naturally, she’d lost some weight that way, but she’d also made herself so ill that she’d had to be hospitalized. It had terrified the life out of her, and ever since, she’d resolved that she’d much rather be healthy than skinny.

Which was why she visited her local leisure center three times a week. She used the gym and sauna, and went swimming. And every single time she went, she’d catch someone gawping at her. But because of the years she’d spent—especially at school—being called all the names under the sun, she’d developed an incredibly thick skin. She was happy and healthy—so healthy in fact that she could probably beat all of those skinny bitches at a swimming race. Of course she never offered, never called anyone out on their rudeness and ignorance, but it made her feel better to know that she was fitter and much more polite than them.

Slipping into the fast lane, she settled her goggles carefully into position—she hated getting water in her eyes—then lifted her legs to rest the bottoms of her feet against the end of the pool. Looking at the clock on the wall that counted seconds, she waited until the hand reached the top, then pushed off from the side and launched herself into the lane. It was quiet, so she had this section of the pool to herself. Her arms cut through the water, her legs flapped wildly and she did ten laps without losing any speed. Emerging from the water, she checked the clock again and was pleased to note she’d beaten her previous time.

She was just about to start another ten laps, when she heard voices from the other side of the pool. Voices that clearly forgot how well they carried on water. It was as though they were right next to her.

“God, I’m surprised all the water doesn’t jump out of the pool when she gets in. And the way she swims—she’ll cause a tidal wave one of these days.”

The spiteful words were followed by a trio of sniggers, and Adele gritted her teeth. Part of her wished that she could create a bloody tidal wave, so it would sweep those bitches under water and drown them. The other part of her tsked at the thought. Ideas like that made her just as bad as them, just as unpleasant, just as cowardly.

Because they were cowardly—the way they spoke about her behind her back proved that. If they ever passed her somewhere in the leisure center or its car park, they never said anything, not one word. They’d just scurry away as fast as they could, then titter when they thought she was out of earshot. She hoped that just one time, someone would say something to her face, so she could retaliate, speak up for herself. There was no way she’d start anything—she didn’t want to add confrontational to the list of faults that the mean girls had obviously compiled about her.

Sucking in a deep breath, Adele launched into another ten laps, allowing the chilly water and the exertion of powering through it to burn away her irritation. Because that’s all it was—irritation.

She wasn’t angry. Anger was too powerful an emotion, and one that was totally wasted on those ignorant women. She almost felt sorry for them, actually. If they had nothing better to do than to stare at her and slag her off all the time, then they clearly had very dull lives. The thought cheered her considerably and when she completed her twentieth lap, she lay her forearms on the edge of the pool and hoiked herself up. Her back was pressed against the side, and from here she had a perfect view of the rest of the pool. Tugging her goggles down so they hung around her neck, she had a damn good look at everyone else. The small children and their guardians in the kids’ pool right at the other end of the enormous hall, the old people who swum so slowly as they chatted that she was surprised they stayed afloat, the relentless movement of the man in the medium-speed lane and, of course, the mean girls who were in the same sort of position she was, but at the side of the pool rather than the end. The side which faced the lifeguard station.

Adele narrowed her eyes and watched them—the two waif-like blondes and a brunette—as they chatted and giggled, and it seemed for a change, not about her. They’d clearly changed the subject since their previous spouting of vitriol. Their focus was very firmly on Oliver as he sat on his lofty perch, surveying the pools before him, ready to jump in should anyone get into trouble. She often toyed with the idea of faking a problem, just to get him into the pool and his strong arms around her. However, she knew that although he’d undoubtedly do his duty and help her, he’d never believe such a strong swimmer would need his assistance. Then he’d lose all respect for her, and probably stop hiding his disdain for her so effectively. And the polite nods and smiles she got from him were the only thing—aside from the center’s top-notch facilities—that made the place bearable.

She was sure that if the three witches—a nickname she’d secretly come up with for the women— had their way, there would be a sign on the main doors to the building saying ‘No Fat People Allowed.’


Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012, 2013 and 2014 and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Guest Post from Slave Nano: In support of 'watersports'

I’d like to thank Giselle for inviting me onto her blog page today.  This is part of an exchange of blogs about taboo subjects.  Giselle posted a blog on my site about the problems of distributing and marketing her book ‘Adam and Sheree’s Family Business’, which contains the theme of incest. In exchange I’ve offered my thoughts about the place of watersports in erotic writing, another subject censored by publishers and distributors.

Now, I’m conscious all publishers I’ve come across have this as a taboo subject.  I also understand that often this is as much down to the distributors as the publishers and, well, if nobody’s going to distribute your book you’re a bit scuppered.   I enjoy writing watersports scenes!  They can be fun, dirty or intense, however you want to play them.  But I’ve always ended up having to cut them out of my stories, as I did from my original draft of my erotic novel, ‘Adventures in Fetishland’, a bdsm/fetish reinvention of the Alice In Wonderland tale, which had a couple of them in.

I should stress I’m not intending any criticism of my publisher  (Xcite Books) here - I don’t have a problem with making changes and I’m happy to work with a publisher’s concerns to get my writing published and out there.  But, it’s just something I wanted to comment on.  ‘Adventures in Fetishland’ has scenes of corporal punishment, nipple torture, cock and ball torture, electrical play, medical play, use of sounds, strap-on-play, cling film mummification, breath play and an attempted anal rape scene.  So, you can see, it isn’t exactly for the faint hearted!  But, one of the scenes I had to edit was a comic one involving Kim, the main character, pissing in a tea pot!  I just have trouble grappling with how all that other extreme stuff was acceptable but a funny scene at a fetish hatter’s tea party involving pee had to be axed.  

I also feel both publishers and readers are missing a treat here as there is such a lot of potential in the subject.  There is loads of dramatic tension in watersports – they get right to the heart of the psychological relationship between a dominant and submissive.  They can be both a humiliation or a reward depending on the context and how they are delivered and described and provide great opportunities for erotic writing.
So, as a special treat (if you can call it that!) the story extract I’m attached to this blog is the unexpurgated scene from the Fetish Hatter’s tea party, which I had to edit and which appears in the book with all references to piss, wee or golden wine mysteriously replaced by the Hatter’s “special blend of tea”! 

Story blurb

In this bdsm re-invention of the Alice stories Kim’s life takes an unexpected twist when she is taken from the massage parlour she works in to a fetish fantasy world ruled over by the Red Queen, a powerful dominatrix. There, an intense psychological drama is played out between the two women as Kim enters a journey into submission. The Red Queen assumes different characters who torment Kim in a series of trials ranging from the funny and strange to the sadistic and erotic.  Kim is lured deeper into this world by hints the Red Queen knows something about her past.  Why has she been chosen to serve this powerful female?  Why is the Red Queen so interested in her?  When Kim finally finds out the truth, it is shocking and bizarre.

Buy links
Adventures in Fetishland is available at:

Extract from book

Oh dear, thought Kim, this tea party could be very weird.  She cast her eye across the table; it was certainly a wonderful spread.  There were two huge round tea pots and places set with china cups and saucers and plates.  The centrepiece was a large multi-tiered black cast iron cake stand that was filled with a delicious assortment of cup-cakes.  They were iced in shades of pastel green, yellow and pink and decorated with cherries or walnuts. There was bread, butter and jam, home-baked scones and jellies and trifles.  I’ve not seen party food like this since I was a child, she thought.  Kim was ravenous and thirsty, just ready for afternoon tea.

“Pour yourself a cup of tea,” offered the Hatter.

Kim picked up the big round yellow tea pot and was about to pour a cup when the hare and dormouse intervened.

“No, No, my dear, you don’t want to drink from that tea pot,” shouted the hare.

“No, no,” muttered the dormouse, “definitely not that tea pot.”

“Why, what’s wrong with this tea pot?”

“The orange tea pot is for the tea,” said the hare.

“And the yellow tea pot is for the wee,” said the dormouse.

Kim looked surprised, “I’m sorry I don’t understand, do you really mean there’s wee in that tea pot?” she asked cautiously, dreading the answer.

The Hatter replied, “Why of course, that tea pot’s for them.” 

She pointed to two of what Kim presumed were Mistress Nemesis’s male slaves.  Kim hadn’t noticed them yet. One had a leather hood on his head, the other an iron cage.  They were both sat behind her forlornly.  Waiting to be fed perhaps, thought Kim?

“They are probably thirsty,” said the Hatter, “would you mind doing the honours, girl?”

“Why, yes, I suppose not.”

Kim picked up the huge round yellow tea pot with both hands and walked over to the two men.

“Should I pour them out a cup?” she asked.

“No, no, they can drink straight from the spout,” the Hatter said.

“Yes, direct from the spout,” echoed the hare.

“Oh, definitely from the spout,” confirmed the dormouse. 

The hooded slave lifted his head up and positioned it so that Kim, holding the tea pot high over him, could tip the spout up and pour its contents straight into his mouth.  She did just that and a stream of yellow fluid came flooding out of the spout.  Oh my god, it really is pee, thought Kim.  It was a clear golden colour but it did not smell too much so it must have been quite fresh.  Kim wondered if it was the Hatter’s.  Most of the piss poured straight into the slave’s mouth and he guzzled it down eagerly, but some splashed onto his body and quite a bit spilt onto the floor.   

The tea pot was soon empty.

“He can’t waste any,” called the Hatter, “make him drink what he’s spilt off the floor.”

“Go on, drink it,” said Kim tentatively at first and then more firmly, “come on drink it up.”

“That’s no good,” said the Hatter, “he’s got to obey you.  Kick him in the balls.”

Kim did exactly that with the shiny leather shoes.  The hooded man howled in pain but soon got his head down onto the floor and started lapping the golden waters up.

“Give the rest to the other one,” ordered the Hatter.

“I’m sorry but the tea pot is empty now.”

“Well, there’s nothing for it, you’ll just have to fill it yourself.”

 “Sorry, you mean you want me to pee in the tea pot?”

“Well yes, of course,” the Hatter said.

“Yes, you heard the Hatter. You must piss in the tea pot,” added the hare.

“Yes, piss in the tea pot,” said the dormouse.

It was true, that Kim was desperate to go.  She hadn’t been to the toilet since she had left the massage parlour and that was hours ago. Oh well, she thought, I need to go.  She put the yellow tea pot on the floor, took the lid off, crouched over it, hitched up her latex dress and let release a stream of hot piss into the tea pot.  God, I needed that. It was quite a relief to empty her bladder.

“Now bring the tea pot back here, put it on the table and let it brew for a bit,” said the Hatter.

Author profile

Slave Nano writes stories drawing on the themes of bdsm, fetish, femdom and goddess worship frequently in fantasy, paranormal or historical settings.

His work usually has dominant female characters and submissive males. His stories explore the tensions between dominant and submissive and the boundaries between pain and pleasure, physical and mental bondage and retribution and reward. 

Slave Nano lives in Yorkshire in the United Kingdom.  He works full time and juggles his writing with this.  His work has been published by Xcite Books and House of Erotica.

Find out more about Slave Nano at

Friday, September 20, 2013

FREE READ: Breaking Up From Behind (anal break-up sex erotica)

If you don't know Audrey and Lawrence, I'll give you a bit of an overview: he's an older man, she's a younger woman; he's married, she's his mistress; he's a librarian, she sees herself as a bit of a femme fatale.  They star in 12 erotic adultery tales of varying lengths, all of which appear in the Audrey & Lawrence collection.

The following is a break-up story, but, as many of us know, a break-up doesn't necessarily spell the end...

Breaking Up From Behind

Somehow, it was easy. We’d had our break-ups in the past, and they were always tortured, so I figured this one would be the same. It wasn’t. I expected tears from him, tears from me, and then the shouting and the melodrama, but no. As I said, it was easy.

“We can’t keep doing this,” I said simply. “I can’t.”

“It’s not fair to you,” he agreed.

“It isn’t real. You say it is, but it isn’t. There’s no real world validity to this relationship. As long as you’re married, we can never be together the way I’d like.”

“And I’ll always be married,” he said.

“But never to me.”

The key to a successful break-up, I realized, was in both parties coming to terms with the end of the relationship before sitting down to have the conversation. We’d both reached our respective terminus points, and we were both ready to say goodbye. That’s what made it easy.

“Before you leave,” I said, sitting on my bed. What percentage of our relationship had been spent in a bed? It was ridiculous, when I reflected on it. I focused on his outstretched hand, wondering how to ask the question to ensure a positive response. “I think it would be nice to try any of those sexual things we’ve never done before. We might not get another chance for a time…”

“What sexual things?” he asked, always the innocent.

I don’t know why I felt embarrassed saying it. “I’ve always wondered about anal.”

Was it really so taboo? No, it wasn’t. Not anymore. And yet, Lawrence shook his head side to side and said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The familiar desire of the femme fatale coursed through my veins, and I saw an image of myself grabbing him and screaming, You’re going to fuck my ass and you’re going to like it!

I suppressed the impulse. That’s what I’d always had trouble with, particularly when I was just coming into adulthood: impulse control. But I looked at myself in the mirror and considered my age—not that I was old, but I should at least have acquired some maturity—I knew there were times when I’d have to hold back.

“Not a good idea?” I asked simply.

“I’m afraid I might hurt you,” he replied, all concern. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

When he placed his hand on my thigh, I ground my teeth together. There was something in his tone that made me feel like he was talking to a child. Nothing angered me more, and this tone of his made me all the happier he would be leaving soon. At the same time, I was all the more driven to achieve my goal prior to his departure.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking of,” I chuckled. “How could you hurt me? It’s just sex.”

“No, it’s different,” he explained without explaining. He seemed to search his mind for the proper words. “It’s not the same as vaginal sex.”

Lawrence’s use of clinical terminology made me feel like a patient rather than a lover. As much as I tried to push her deep down inside me, my inner femme fatale came surging forth. Taking Lawrence by the shoulders, she pinned him on the bed and kissed his puzzled lips. I realized I was the one provoking this action, but it seemed somehow outside me. Certainly, I didn’t want to act that way. It seemed almost as though I had no say in the matter as the seductive woman who was me stripped off his clothing and sucked his cock. That, he wouldn’t have complained about in a million years. In no time, he was hard as a twenty-year-old boy and I couldn’t wait to get his cock in my ass... whether he liked it or not.

Reaching into my night table, I pulling out heavy-duty lube, a condom, and a vibrator for the enjoyment of my lovely little clit. When I tore out of my silk negligee, Lawrence’s eyes glazed over. Good. He was more malleable in that state. I hopped on top of him and straight away sunk my wet pussy down on his cock. He groaned, rolling his head back and forth on the bed. That cock was a good size after I’d sucked it, and I was half tempted to ride it into the sunset. But no. I had to stick to the plan.

Turning on my powerful vibe, I pressed it against my clit and my whole body went into spasm. I could see in Lawrence’s blissful expression how hard my tremulous pussy muscles were working his cock. Perfect opportunity! Bouncing on his belly with wild abandon, I rubbed my bud with the vibe. I could hardly imagine any greater joy, but I released his cock nonetheless and stroked it with my hand. He gurgled and writhed like a puppy getting his tummy scratched as I drew a condom over his desperate cock.

“What’s that?” he asked, his body stiffening. He chuckled nervously and said, “You don’t trust me anymore?”

I wasn’t sure I’d ever trusted him. In any case, the condom wasn’t about trust. “Don’t get your panties in a wad. I just don’t want you filling my ass with jizz.”

Lawrence made a face. “Oh, I wish you wouldn’t use words like that.”

“What, jizz or ass?”

“Either.” He watched with budding curiosity as I slathered his cockhead with lube. “What are you doing?”

I didn’t really answer the question. I only said, “You could help me out, you know.”

He didn’t react negatively. He didn’t react at all, so I pumped a good lot of lube on his fingers and placed them right between my cheeks. When I set the vibe flush against my clit, my whole body seized at the sensation. Lawrence tickled my asshole, dripping lube all over as I writhed against the vibe.

“I love how happy that makes you,” he said, easing a finger up into my hole. My assring locked on him as I slide the vibe across my hot little bud. As I rode his finger, I reached backwards to pump his cock. While I was at it, I gave his balls a taste of the vibe and watched him melt into a puddle of lust. I wanted his meat good and sturdy, because I could tell my ass was ready to take it in.

Getting a good grip on Lawrence’s shaft, I eased myself lower until his sheathed cockhead pressed right up against my asshole. When I looked down into his expectant eyes, every muscle in my body tightened. Merde! I didn’t want to prove him right. I didn’t want it to hurt, but I knew that meant loosening up. As much as he seemed to enjoy my vibe, I needed it back. When I tapped its buzzing tip against my clit, it felt like a bolt of lightning running straight through me. My ass opened like a flower and I thrust my clit against my vibrating vixen before I even realized that I had his whole cockhead inside me.

“See?” I said like a silly child. “I told you it wouldn’t hurt.”

Lawrence grinned. Propping himself up on one elbow, he leaned forward to grab my tits. I growled at the pleasure of it, letting his cock pop out of my ass, then lowering myself back down on it. It should have been easier, or at least easy, but no. I felt my hole open up to let him in, stretching wide, causing a pain I couldn't acknowledge. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being right.

His tip mushroomed inside me. It felt huge as I urged my body down, toward his thighs. The strain caused my heart to race until I’d swallowed his cock completely, and then I felt like the best thing to do was pop it out and swallow it all over again. I must have been an idiot. Fucking him with my ass never got any easier.

When he rolled my nipple between his thumb and index finger, I stroked my clit even harder with the vibe and started—very slowly—to ride his cock. As I rocked my ass, letting him get deeper inside me, I realized shallow was better.

Popping him out one last time, I took in only the tip. I wanted to scream, but I bit my lip, buried the sting.

When his cock was in my ass for good, I pressed the vibe down in my pussy, right next to my clit. I just held it there. I didn’t have to move, except to grab the breast Lawrence wasn’t squeezing. My muscles did all the work. Pressure built inside me as my ass and pussy muscles all spasmed. The vibrations shook my thighs and down to my toes, then up my belly and into neck. My intensely focused pleasure simmered as I held that pose, vibe on clit, hand on tit, cock in ass, until it boiled over all at once and I jumped away from everything.

I sprang from Lawrence lap, curling up in fetal position with my thighs wrapped around my toy.

Really, it was all about the vibrations. Everything else was peripheral. Even Lawrence himself was secondary, I realized. I could get off without him. All I needed was a sex store gadget and two AA batteries. That’s when it hit me full-on that I could have a perfectly satisfying sex life without Lawrence. The thought made me a little sad, but mostly, it was freeing.

I held my vibe against my clit, rocking my hips to get off on it again and again. Ah putain de merde, ça fait du bon! Donne-le-moi, donne-le-moi, donne-le-moi! Lawrence must have thought I was having a seizure or something, because he tried to put his arms around me. Non, va t’ens! I kicked him away until I couldn’t feel even the heat of his body behind me anymore. As I stroked on my toy, I had to close my eyes. The sensation was so mind-blowing I was sure my eyeballs would pop out of their sockets if I kept them open.

Flipping onto my back, I lifted my hips to the sky and scoured my clit with the vibe as fast as my hand would let me. Calisse de Crisse, donne-le-moi! My whole body hopped against the mattress. I couldn’t keep quiet. I just kept, writhing, rubbing with both hands on the sex toy, shouting and cursing, Tabernac, ça me plait. Tabernac!

I couldn’t bear it any longer. I couldn’t take any more. The vibe fell from my hands, landing beside me on the bed. I lay there listening to the toy’s bee-like hum until my muscles stopped trying to jump out of my skin. When I reached around to turn it off, it occurred to me that something was missing.


I opened my eyes, but he wasn’t in bed. He’d gone from the room. I considered exploring the rest of my apartment, but I knew it would be a good five minutes before my legs returned to good working order. And, anyway, I’d thrown his clothes on the floor when I stripped him, and they weren’t there anymore.

He was gone. Yes, he must have left; his copy of my apartment key was sitting on my night table. He was gone for good.

I didn’t try moving. Why bother? There was no man’s chest to cuddle against, no man’s fingers to catch in my hair, no man to shower with accolades. Oh, baby, that was incredible. You, my darling man, are the biggest, the best, the sexiest, most potent lover ever to grace my bedroom with his presence! I hope we will be together throughout eternity.

It was all such utter bullshit.

Tunnelling beneath my covers, I stretched my body out in the bountiful land of my bed. I guess I hadn’t realized just how ready I was for Lawrence to go, but it felt good to have my life to myself. With him gone, I could breathe new air. I wasn’t trapped in the garb of the seductress I’d always worn with him. It was fun to dress up in that persona when I was younger, but the act had gotten old and the femme fatale costume was tearing at the seams.

I had my vibrator. I’d be fine on my own.


Audrey & Lawrence: The Complete Collection is available in print, audiobook and ebook formats

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Guest Post: Zombie Erotoclypse by Tamsin Flowers

Hi Giselle and hi to all your readers,

I'm so thrilled to have arrived in Canada with my troupe of travelling zombies—and to be here on Giselle's blog, particularly when I know how terrified of zombies she is.  Don't worry, Giselle, I've chained them in the corner and I'm throwing your donuts at them!

Now, down to business. The reason we're here is to tell you about my new short story collection, Zombie Erotoclypse, a hot and steamy concoction of zombie erotica in which the walking dead have designs on your body rather than your brain!

Here's the blurb: If you're missing The Walking Dead, if you're the slightest bit fond of zombies or if you think they're smarter than we give them credit for, this is the book for you - in Zombie Erotoclypse the zombies have one thing on their mind and it ain't about eating your brain!

Have you ever wondered whether zombies have sex? Fall in love? Lust after humans? The five stories in this red hot collection of zombie erotica will answer all these questions and more. If you thought it was tough being a teenage virgin, try it zombie style or why not take a visit to the club where humans get to have their wicked way with hot young zombies - for a price... Meet the Peeping Zom, who develops an obsession with a hot human blonde. Who looks after new zombies and teaches them the art of zombie love-making? And how would you react if the love of your life came home one evening with a zombie bite?

Tamsin Flowers has written a collection of always entertaining and sometimes thought provoking erotic zombie shorts which will teach you one thing at least - zombies have the best sex!

There are five stories in total and today's excerpt is from the first story, Red Hot Zombie Cock

Marsha has enough to contend with - a whole city full of zombies at the end of the pier where she's taken refuge - without having to put up with the antics of her cousin Skylar. So when he persuades her to visit a zombie sex club to celebrate her birthday, she knows from the get go it's a bad idea.

Two muzzled zombies are cuffed up to St Andrew's crosses and the club hostess calls on a member of the audience to come up on stage with them…

Mack steps forward and from where we're standing, slightly to one side, I can see that he's rubbing against the groin of his jeans with one hand.  I can hardly believe what I'm watching and I almost forget to breath.  After a couple of thrusts against his hand, the boy unzips his pants and wrestles his cock out through the slit, tangling with it until it's standing proud outside the denim.  He makes a half turn to let the crowd see his impressive erection, a wide grin on his face.

"Jesus," I say and Skylar puts an arm round my waist.  I'm not sure I want to see this.

"Fuck her!" yells a guy.

The kid turns back to the cross and puts a hand out to touch the zombie.  He brushes it, quite softly it looks, across her breasts, making the zombie grunt and strain against her restraints.  The grin has gone from his face and he looks completely fascinated.  He runs his fingers down her torso, slowly, exploring the texture of her rough, grey skin.  Under his touch, she bucks and the grunt becomes a moan that steadily increases in volume the further down he ventures.  On the next cross, the male zombie seems to sense what's happening and starts baying as he, too, struggles to get free.

"Apparently zombies have an epic sex drive," whispers Skylar in my ear and I feel his hot breath on my neck.

"No way!"

"True," he says.  "Just watch."

Mack spits on his index and middle finger and pushes them down between the zombie's splayed legs.  It has an instantaneous effect, as if a jolt of electricity has been passed through her body.   Her back arches and her head whips from side to side as she releases full-blooded zombie scream.  In the enclosed space, it tears the air and reverberates in ears and chests.  Mack looks back over the shoulder at the baying audience, his grin back in place.  Then he takes his cock in one hand and uses his other hand to find a pathway into the zombie's pussy.  He strokes his swollen head up and down between her lips and then I see his hips surge forward as he pushes himself inside.  She screams again and the male zombie roars with her.  When I look at him, I realize his cock's even larger now and he's pulling harder against the bindings at his wrists and ankles.  

The crowd goes wild with catcalls and whistles as Mack pumps in and out of her.  And despite my revulsion for what I'm seeing, I realize that between my legs I'm wet.  Skylar pulls me back against his body and I can hear that his breathing has quickened.  He grinds his hips against my ass and I feel the bulge of a nascent erection.

I hope you enjoyed it! And if you want more it's only 99c or 77p for all five!
See you at our next stop!
Tamsin xxx

To find out whom else the zombies will be visiting over the next month check out the schedule on Tamsin's Superotica.

Author bio: Tamsin Flowers
Tamsin Flowers loves to write light-hearted erotica, often with a twist in the tail/tale and a sense of fun.  In the words of one reviewer, 'Ms Flowers has a way of describing sexual tension that forces itself upon your own body.' Her stories have appeared in a wide variety of anthologies and she is now graduating to novellas with the intention to pen her magnum opus in the very near future.  In the meantime, like most erotica writers, she finds herself working on at least ten stories at once: while she figures out whose leg belongs in which story, you can find out more about her at Tamsin's Superotica or Tamsin Flowers. Follow her on Twitter @TamsinFlowers or on Facebook Tamsin Flowers.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Vicious Rumour? Hearsay? Is Rainbow eBooks Really Closing?

Two days ago I was telling you how much I loved a little LGBT retailer called Rainbow eBooks,  Staff is approachable, and they've helped me raise money for a queer youth peer assistance charity called LGBT Youthline on more than one occasion.

And now what do I hear?  They're closing September 30, 2013.  Going out of business.

Not another one!

Fictionwise is gone (though, good riddance, amirite?), 1PFR is gone, as well as their 1EroticaEbooks or whatever that was called (see? I don't even remember once they've shuttered their bookshelves), free fiction sites like Oysters & Chocolate and Every Night Erotica have folded... what are we going to do, guys?

I heard this from a publisher, but there's no word about the closure on Rainbow eBooks' website, so... can anyone verify this information?  Otherwise I'm just spreading vicious rumours.

Rainbow eBooks, if you are closing, I just want to say I'm sad to see you go. You were so nice to me.

UPDATE: Confirmation from the Rainbow eBooks homepage:

Web Store Closing 
Effective September 30, 2013 the Rainbow eBooks web store will be closing.

So that we may serve our existing users, the web store will remain active for purchases through September 30, 2013 and will remain active for customer downloads through December 31, 2013.

After December 31, 2013 Rainbow eBooks will provide direct links to publishers, who request that we do so, so that you'll still be able to find all of the great GLBT eBooks that you've come to enjoy.

It has been our joy to serve you and we are very grateful to have had your support over the years.

Thanks for thinking Rainbow eBooks!
Tammy May, CEO

Gift Card Balances
Please plan to use any existing gift card balances by September 30, 2013 or contact the office at to make other arrangements.

So there you go, kids. It's not a rumour anymore.


Giselle Renarde  
Canada just got hotter!

Visit me online

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Call for Submissions: Queering Reality–Seeking Trans* People...

...Who Make the Ordinary Extraordinary!

Found this call for subs at the Lambda Lit site:

Are you someone whose skills or interests don’t fit neatly under the rainbow? Have you ever thought you and your work might make a great reality show? Do you live your life doing everyday sh*t in creative ways? If you’ve felt like you’re the only Trans* person doing what you’re doing in the world, we want you!
After all, we are the community that makes the everyday extraordinary.

Queering Reality seeks anecdotes, tales, and stories about your work outside the traditional literary, performing, and academic disciplines.

Submissions should be between 2000-5000 words and be accompanied by a short, 300-word bio. Deadline is Nov. 1st, 2013

Please send submissions to, and include “Queering Reality – Your Name” in the subject line.

Queering Reality (Trans-Genre Press) is edited by Ryka Aoki and A.J. Bryce. Each published author receives two copies of the anthology and $50 for their contribution

See more at:

Monday, September 9, 2013


I neglected to mention that I wrote stories for two new bestselling anthologies from Evernight Publishing: HIS and HIS: Manlove Edition.

HIS includes "Firemen on the Move"

Strength. Power. Experience. No obstacle is too great when an alpha male decides what he wants, and these dominating men are so sexy and irresistible, no woman would dare think of anything but submission. Billionaires, Doms, and mobsters alike aggressively go after the women they want, and they will stop at nothing to fully possess them and make them beg for more.

My story in this one is "Firemen on the Move."  I was inspired to write it en route to the supermarket, when I walked by a moving van from a company called... oh, now I don't even remember. "Fireman Movers" or something?  I saw a woman was sitting outside the apartment building where it was parked, watching and waiting.

By the time I'd walked home from the supermarket, I had this story all planned out in my mind.  A writer never stops writing.

When Bindi hired "Firemen On The Move" to transport her stuff from her parents' house in the suburbs to her first downtown apartment, she dreamed of meaty firemen jumping out of a truck, muscles surging, ready to lift anything. And that's exactly what she got. Except the company's bona fide firefighter-movers were in fact retired firefighters. She didn't expect them to be so... old!

Despite his age, there's something undeniably appealing about former firefighter Steve. It's not just his incredible body. He's easy to talk to, and when she forgets her purse in the moving van and Steve runs to her door late in the evening to return it... well, Bindi has a pretty good feeling they're going to do more than just talk...

I know what I'm talking about when it comes to older man/younger woman relationships. I was part of one for ten years of my life. (I was the younger woman, in case you're wondering.)

"This Stage of Life," my story in the Manlove edition, has a similar theme: older man/younger man, this time, and in this instance the older man is a teacher and the younger one a former student:

When Andrew pays his old high school a visit, a latent crush storms to the surface. Andrew attended the "Triple Threat" musical theatre program at a respected arts school. When he was a student, he had a girlfriend and the dance teacher, Mr. Czarneki, had a wife. Thirteen years after graduation, Mr. Czarneki is widowed and Andrew identifies as gay. There's a definite spark, and when Andrew follows the dance teacher home like a puppy, Mr. Czarneki shows the former student how to play like one.

HIS: Manlove
HIS: Manlove Edition
Strength. Power. Experience. There’s nothing like a man who knows how to get what he wants, both in and out of the bedroom. And these dominant alphas want nothing more than to please and possess the men they love. No kink is too risqué as these men ensure their lovers never want to be anywhere but under their command.
Come and find out how good it feels to be HIS.
You can snap up a copy of HIS: Manlove Edition from Amazon: