Come dance with us! Meet Casey Crow

Congratulations DeborahR for winning a copy of 

"Dance With A Millionaire" by Casey Crow!

 

Belagio, Italy

Lake Como, Swiss Alps

     Thank you for joining us this week. We have a special treat for you - see that two-story boat? We're all on it with the dynamic erotic author, Casey Crow and are going to enjoy not only a tour of the lake and town, we're going to tour the pages of Dance with a Millionaire! Help us make Casey feel welcome this week. She'll be around for questions and answers. Cheers to all of you. Grab your beverage and let's go chat with Casey!

Naughty Reader’s: Casey, Brenda and I are thrilled to have you here! Tell us a bit about yourself  that our readers might not know.

Casey:  I’m a Summa Cum Laude graduate from the University of Alabama with degrees in Business Management and Dance. I got my Master of Business Administration from the University of Mobile. I live in the Deep South where I stay busy running my two children to way too many activities. In addition to writing, I work as a pageant coach of twenty years, professional emcee and model, dance choreographer, and certified Miss America preliminary judge. I guess my claim to fame is being a former Miss University of Alabama and NASCAR spokesmodel. I’m addicted to GCB, Castle & Revenge and work out religiously to compensate for my addiction to sweets.
      I enjoy playing pool, tennis & golf but never have the time so I’m pitiful at all three. I write “Sexy, Sassy & Southern” award winning erotic and spicy mainstream contemporary romances. My debut CAN’T FAKE THIS was named 2011 Best Contemporary at Love Romances Café, winner of the 2012 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, and received a Gold Star from Just Erotic Romance Reviews. I’m also a  Twitter caseyecrow and Facebook Casey Crow junkie.

Naughty Reader’s:  Wow! What made you want to become a writer?

Casey:  In high school and college, I only read text books. I was a bit of a nerd. Okay, that’s a lie. I was a big nerd so I didn’t even get started on romance until I was twenty-five. Oddly enough, my mom, an avid reader of all romance genres first encouraged me to write. About the time I started thinking, “I could do this,” she said, “You’ve always been good at writing school papers. You should try this.” Thank goodness, too, because I love it and turned the hobby turned into a serious career when I joined RWA in 2009.

Naughty Reader’s: We love the cover! Congratulations on that! Please share a bit about your new release DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE without giving away any spoilers.

Casey:  Southern belle Campbell Layne is the rising star of the Manhattan Ballet Theatre, providing she lands the upcoming principal role. The stage heats up, however, when Rod Carrington steps in and teaches her more than she ever expected.

     Campbell is determined to stay focused on the audition that will push her into stardom, but the dazzling attorney she meets at a gala proves to be a major distraction especially when he ends up being her professor in a college class she’s taking in her spare time. Campbell humiliates herself on their first date, but that doesn’t stop Rod from whisking her off to Italy and turning her into quite the vixen. Too bad he also had to use his powerful influence to secure the lead for her. Now she’ll never know if her talent was real or “bought” by the man she thought was the love of her life.

Naughty Reader’s: Do you write under a pen name?

Casey:  Casey Crow

Naughty Reader’s: What types of hero or heroine do you like best?

Casey:  My tagline is “Sexy, Sassy & Southern” and my heroines are just that. I love a strong female who knows what she wants and goes after it.

    As far as heroes go, I like cocky, redeemable bad boys. I mean, really? Who doesn’t?

Naughty Reader’s:  Those definitely are the best kind! Tell us about a typical day in your life as a writer.

Casey:  I’m a work-out fanatic so I go to the gym after dropping my kids off at school. Then I come home to write, edit, return messages, or promote until it’s time to pick them up. I’m in “mom mode” until their bedtime. After that, I’m back at work, usually staying up really late. I write or do some form of “book work” every day. This is my job, and I treat it as such. I don’t get much done on the weekends because I’m normally busy with my other job as a pageant coach.  

Naughty Reader’s:  Do your books have a common theme or are they all different?

Casey: I recently had an interviewer ask me what was my recurring theme? I’d never thought about it, but after five manuscripts, I realized the one aspect of me that parlays into my heroines is they are the kind of girls that can wine and dine at a five-star restaurant one night and the next be just as comfortable drinking beer at a bon fire. It’s the best of both worlds and represents a true Southern Belle.

Naughty Reader’s: And they all have class! How long does it take you to write and then edit a story?

Casey:  I have no idea! Seriously, I’ve written a book in three weeks and another in three years. Based on my daily goal count, three months is a good number. Unfortunately, I’m quite meticulous and it takes me a while to edit, usually two weeks to a month.

Naughty Reader’s: Do you have to be alone to write?

Casey:  I prefer to be alone and in complete silence, but I don’t always that with kids around! If they are making too much noise, I’ll plug into my ipod.

Naughty Reader’s: How do you go about naming characters?

Casey:  I’m really bad about using relatives’ names! But alas, I’m running out of cousins. My kids love helping me come up with names, too. And sometimes, they just come to me. I also keep a running list of names I hear that I like and might use one day.

Naughty Reader’s: Is it easier to write about the characters if you find pictures of them before you write or do you write then find character pictures?

Casey:  I write first. Normally, I don’t use a picture at all other than what’s in my head, but even then the image is based on a celebrity or a combo of real people.

Naughty Reader’s: How do you pick locations for your stories?

Casey:  My heroines’ jobs tend to pick the settings. For example, in DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE, Campbell is a dancer at the Manhattan Ballet Theatre so the story takes place in New York City (with a holiday weekend in Bellagio, Italy). My other projects are all set in the South, however, but even DWAM has a strong Southern flavor. Here are a few excerpts for you with the second being a bit more x-rated than the first...just sayin'!

Excerpt 1:

     “Thank you for attending the performance and for your generous donation to MBT.” His dark eyebrows shot up a notch, highlighting a definite mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Why did they have to be the exact shade of turquoise as the Caribbean Ocean at sunset? Stunning.

     “That’s well-rehearsed, Miss Layne. Tell me, though, do you turn on the Southern belle charm for all your fans or only the male ones?”

     Her mouth fell open, but thank goodness she had the presence of mind to snap it shut. “How dare you? First of all, I’m from Alabama which makes the accent genuine, and secondly, that’s…that’s the rudest, most ungentlemanly thing to say.”

     “I never said I was a gentleman and readily admit to be undeserving of your sweet façade. I’d much prefer the real you.”

     She propped her hands on her hips. “And precisely what, may I ask, do you assume to be the real me, seeing as our acquaintance has a life span of what? Thirty seconds?”

     Rod glanced at an expensive-looking gold watch. “Forty-five.” He stepped closer.

     She did not see that coming and stumbled back only to become trapped between the wall and his body. The hard, cold stone competed against his warm, harder presence. Damn it, the latter won out. She ground her traitorous fingertips into her palms in an effort to prevent them from brushing away the stray curl that fell across his forehead.

     The hem of his jacket brushed her hip as he moved in to splay his hand over her waist. The pressure built as he gathered her an inch closer. She caught a faint whiff of his cologne. The clean, fresh scent permeated the air and reminded her of the Southern pines back home, but this was not the time to reminisce.

     “In fact, I’d like to get to know every inch of you.” Another sharp tug had her chest pressed against his rock solid form.

     Her blood boiled in a delicious rhythm. Obviously, the vibrator thing was getting old if this jerk was turning her on. She made a mental note to ask her best friend, Heidi, to set her up on a date. Any man would do—as long as it was not Rod.

     She flexed her fingers and pushed against his shoulders. “Let go of me, you arrogant pig.” A lion, cougar, leopard—anything powerful—seemed a more apt description though.

     Rod chuckled and loosened his hold. A fraction. Enough to insert his finger between them. It followed the line of fabric at her shoulder slowly, very slowly, across her chest. As he glided over her cleavage, he said, “But, my dear, you’re mistaken. It’s confidence I possess.”

     “More like cockiness.” Even as she said it, Bella couldn’t take her gaze off his finger or steer her attention from the intense hunger  sweeping through her. She instinctively arched her back, lifting her breasts to silently beg for more.

     “Either way, but I always get what I want, and in case you need me to spell it out”—he slid his finger up her throat to tilt her chin, forcing her to look at him—“I. Want. You.”

     He uttered the words with such conviction, her breath hitched. No, stopped. She literally thought she might pass out. Swoon, like one of those Regency ladies she’d thought of a moment ago, only she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

     Feigning haughty sophistication was not in her repertoire, but there was a first time for everything. She raised a brow and allowed her gaze to wander his body as he’d done to her. The black tux cut a dashing figure, making her mouth water for a taste of what lay beneath. She imagined herself undoing each of the black buttons on his starched, white shirt. His bowtie was a little askew. She reached to straighten it, brushing against his neck. She heard his breathing deepen, sensed, rather than saw, the quickening of his jaw. She inwardly smiled and wiggled her toes in a victory dance, but those stupid, treacherous fingers battled back, wanting to still the muscle with a gentle caress. She balled her fists in reprimand, uncaring that her short nails dug into her palms.

     When she reintroduced her eyes to his, she shot him what she hoped was a contemptuous glare. “Take your hand off me,” she said slowly and deliberately. She made a dramatic showing of enclosing her fingers, one at a time, around his wrist and tugged his finger away from her boobs.

     Nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. He managed to do that trick when one eyebrow lifts higher than the other.

     She sighed loudly and exceedingly unladylike. Then she pulled. Hard.

     Finally, he broke contact by approximately six inches when twelve would have been much closer to the acceptable personal space limit. Too late to hide her puckered nipples, she still folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot in perfect tempo with her index finger. “An apology would be appropriate at this time.”

     “Ah, but then I’d have to, in fact, be sorry.”

     He said that? Seriously? She just stood there, gaping. It would’ve been so nice to find the words, any words to speak, but nope. A boa constrictor squeezed her throat.

     “What? No response? I assume that negates the possibility of you actually wanting an apology.”

     Again, robbed of speech. She felt like a fool, but her mind remained as blank as the sky on a cloudy night. So much for feigning haughty sophistication.

     “Um…” Jackpot! At last. Okay, it wasn’t a three-point goal in the final seconds of the game, but her voice hit a few decibels nevertheless.

     Rod’s deep chuckle reverberated throughout the alcove as he captured both of her shoulders. He laughed at her. Worse, he was going to kiss her. She knew it. Right here, right now. In front of everyone. A complete stranger. Well, not completely, she knew his name at least. Knowing the first name made it all right, didn’t it?

     Lord, what am I thinking? She did not go around kissing strangers. Hell, she didn’t go around kissing people she knew. What would her mama think? She’d die of shame, that’s what.

     But heaven knew she wanted to taste those beautiful, full lips. She purely ached to run her fingers through his wavy, chestnut hair and slide her hands inside his coat to see if his abs were as hard as she imagined they would be. She closed her eyes and barely swallowed the lump stuck in her throat before licking her lips, preparing for the inevitable.

Warning - Rated Excerpt:

 

     “Bel-la.” Rod gathered her tighter and simply hugged her, burying his face in her hair.

      For a second, the world stopped and her heart melted as he pressed his chest into hers. His woodsy, clean scent blended with the lemony smell of his starched shirt. She heard him inhale deeply, and the loneliness over the past few weeks faded away. Spreading her fingers wide, she slid them into the softness of his hair before gliding down to knead the muscles of his upper back.

      “You’re tense.”

      “I’m sexually frustrated.” His mouth found her earlobe. The metal on her earring clanked against his teeth. She let out a low chuckle.

      “Me, too.”

      “You smell like lavender and vanilla and taste cinnamony and sweet.”

      “Then eat me up.”

      “I intend to.” His palm slipped to her breast, giving it a firm squeeze before rubbing her nipple through the coat.

      The satin lining stimulated her nipples further. “Hmm,” she moaned as her head fell back, and she arched into his hand. Rod granted her silent request, tugging at the knot at her waist and pushing the coat off her shoulders. His eyebrows shot up at seeing her unclothed. A large grin stretched across his beautiful mouth, his lips full and moist from kissing her.

      “Come to my office and sit on my lap anytime.” He bent to lick a nipple.

       She dug her nails into his back. “Yes, darlin’.”

      “Patience, princess.” His tongue twirled around her areola as he squeezed her other breast. Switching his lips to it, he sucked the entire thing into this mouth.

      His cock rubbed against her inner thigh, teasing her pussy with its nearness. Shifting her weight, she rotated her hips so his dick touched her clit. She was dying to have his long, hot, velvety dick deep inside her, stretching her wide. Her juices dripped in anticipation. “More,” she said, hoping to hurry him up. He groaned his approval and slid his fingers to her pussy, parting the folds, and rolling her clit back and forth with the tip of his finger. Sensations exploded, shattering her composure into a million pieces then melting them into a warm, liquid pool of satisfaction that heated her skin. Every nerve ending, every cell seemed attuned to his touch.

      She moaned so loudly he raised a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Her response was to take it into her mouth and suck. God, she’d never felt such abandonment, such freedom at acting like a—what was the word? Siren. Yes, Campbell had discovered a side of herself she’d never known existed. Rod had coaxed a bit out in Italy, but now she felt all her inhibitions slip away. She wanted to show him that she was as wild and sexy as his other women.

      Her fingers worked in desperate, quick movements to loosen his tie and undo his buttons. She pulled the shirt from his pants, spread the material, and dipped her head to taste his nipples. When she began to unbuckle his belt, he stilled her.

      “Tell me you’re kidding.”

      “It’s my turn, you seductive minx.” He reached behind her and sent papers flying to the floor. Circling his hands around her hips, he lifted her onto the desk.

      Raising her foot to his chest, she lightly speared him in the heart with her stiletto. He grabbed her ankle and deposited her foot on the arm of his massive leather chair. He did the same with her other leg then, running his hands from her calves to her knees, he pushed her legs wide. And feasted.

      “Rod!” she gasped when his tongue made one long lick up her slit.

      “Trust me, baby. You’ll love it.” He spread her folds with his fingers as his tongue streaked over her nub. “Hmm. You taste good. Always wondered what a girl raised on Southern sunshine would taste like.” He kissed her inner thigh and went back to licking her clit.

      “Yes! Oh God, yes!”

       He made a hushing sound.

      “I can’t help it,” she whimpered. Asking her to be quiet was like telling her to go catch some minnows by hand.

      His tongue lapped and brushed her sensitive spot, sending her into a spiraling need. She grabbed a handful of his hair, pressing his face harder into her pussy. He slipped his tongue into her hole. Her head spun, but he gave her no mercy as he pulled out to suck a pussy lip.

      He tugged, gently scraping his teeth over it then making a smacking sound as he released it. “So long,” he mumbled before pulling the other into his mouth and repeating the exquisite procedure.  Rod slipped his thumb into her hole, rotating his wrist as he pumped her. His tongue returned to her clit, jiggling it back and forth. Her legs quivered and threatened to slip off the chair. She draped them over his shoulders. He stuck a hand under her ass and lifted her hips off the desk. Campbell crossed her ankles, trapping him between her legs and gyrating her hips as fulfillment closed in.

     “Please, darlin’. Make me c–come,” she begged between pants.

      He sucked like nobody’s business and swallowed her passion as she came fast. Rod reached to cover her mouth with his hand as she screamed and shuddered violently. He continued to lap up her pussy juices.

     Holy fuck. Campbell thought she’d died and gone to heaven.

     As her contractions slowed, he stood, causing her legs to straighten against the length of his body. He got his pants off enough for his cock to spring free. Positioning the head at her entrance, he plunged deep.

     She watched him bite his lip. “Not so easy to keep quiet, is it?”

 

Visit Casey at http://www.caseycrow.com

Follow on Twitter @caseyecrow and Facebook Casey Crow

DWAM BUY NOW

DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE EXCERPTS

2011 LRC Best Contemporary & 2012 Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence Winner CAN’T FAKE THIS buy Kindle version on Amazon and all versions at Loose, Id. 

CAN’T FAKE THIS Excerpt

CAN’T FAKE THIS book trailer

Contest:  Casey is giving away an ebook copy of DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE to one lucky commenter on May 6th. Be sure to leave your email addy so she can contact the winner.

 
Thank you all for stopping in and good luck to everyone in the contest!

 

Author Interview with Michele Hope April 22 - 27

Congratulations to Honey; Winner of ARC giveaway - Vantage Points by Michele Hope!

 This week the very sexy and talented Michele Hope chats with us from her dock on a Louisiana bayou. Michele is sharing a bit about her latest release "Vantage Points" and how a southern boy swept her off feet and plunked her down in gator country.

Now while we sit here drinking cold, sweet ice tea with Michele, we may see a few of them gators or snakes. We have the citronella candles burning to keep away the skeeters and some all natural bug repellent if anyone wants to spray on their exposed skin. If your skin is exposed, you may want to add sunscreen too. LOL Ummm

There's Michele sitting in her chair waiting for us. She's fishing!

Naughty Reader’s: Michele thank you for inviting us to you beautiful place! Tell us a bit about yourself  that our readers might not know.

Michele: I'm just a girl born to mid-western winters and German stock, once committed to high rise business complexes. I loved the sound of designer high-heels clacking on concrete. My world evolved around shoes and nicely fitted pencil skirts. And more shoes and more shoes. I spent a life in cool bistros and cigar bars. Then one day I met this southern boy, born of the alluvial soil, possessed of good looks and entirely too much charm.  He spoke and honey dripped. My gentleman swept me away from northern environs and "carried" me down South where I now reside on my very own Blissful Bayou. 

This place of live oak, voodoo and alligators does not force itself on the soul, but rather imprints. A primordial place that compels the body and spirit to slow down, to breathe in its honeysuckle fragrance. I gaze out my windows across a spacious veranda to the water, always the water and contentedly watch beaver swim and great herons feed. It's really quite special to walk out your own back door and go fishin' with an enormous black dog, the "water bus," my defender and protector. Did I say "fishin'?"  Oh my, how this place works its wonders.

Naughty Reader’s: What made you want to become a writer?

Michele: Oh I don't know. I think in this case, I am compelled as any writer might be.

Naughty Reader’s: Please share a bit about your new release Vantage Points without giving away any spoilers.

Michele: Here's the blurb we've been using: As stars glitter above the Ozarks and a grand old hotel, opportunities can avail in the least expected of places. Yet for the skilled and gifted, so much can be made from a graceful bend at the waist, a suggestive touch or an alluring smile. The ghost of Al Capone haunts floors of grandeur and our handsome escapees from a tropical storm ply their skills to an unsuspecting young lifeguard. And does he ever . . . become the fortunate beneficiary of lace, rum and a midnight dip.

Naughty Reader’s: Oh, a dip in the moonlight sounds delicious but not in this bayou! *Brenda and Tonya glance toward the water and notices a gator swimming by* Do you write under a pen name?

Michele: *laughs* I'm used to the creatures here. Yes. It's a combination of my husband's name and my own.

Naughty Reader’s: What types of hero or heroine do you like best?

Michele: We like the strong, clever types, hero and heroine. Our characters have an instinctive understanding of each, use subtly, humor and coercion. They take no prisoners.

Naughty Reader’s: Tell us about a typical day in your life as a writer.

Michele: Actually, writing comes in furious spurts. I might write nearly non-stop for several days and not pick it up again for a week. There are lots of distractions around here, especially if you like to fish.  And I do!  Like to fish.  And catch 'em. I have a world class guide who takes me places I've never been. *winks at Brenda & Tonya*

Naughty Reader’s: Do your books have a common theme or are they all different?

Michele: Our settings are all down South. This green-gold (I stole that from Walker Percy) banana republique is so rich in history and culture. It's at every turn in every day.  Should your imagination fail you, and it happens to us all, then go walking or boat up the bayou. If that doesn't provide some inspiration then maybe writing isn't for you. My favorite writers are from this part of the world, though I don't any of them write naughty stories! HAA!

Naughty Reader’s: How long does it take you to write and then edit a story?

Michele: That varies on length and just how furious and committed I am at the time. Did I mention . . . I HAVE to fish?

Naughty Reader’s: Do you have to be alone to write?

Michele: Yes! A glass of wine and some good jazz will assist most the time too. And it needs to be at night or maybe a stormy day when being inside is mo' better than being outside. We bring our animals in at night, they settle in and the house is quiet. Except for all those spooky noises outside!

Naughty Reader’s: How do you go about naming characters?

Michele: Ah hell, Brenda, I just make stuff up! Michael shoots from the hip. He's a natural at it and likely on target. Southern boy that he is, he's a born storyteller!

Naughty Reader’s: Is it easier to write about the characters if you find pictures of them before you write or do you write then find character pictures?

Michele: I think we see setting and work characters into a storyline.  Even though our protagonists have remained consistent through out (what will be our 5th story which releases in May),  I try to make it all as easy on myself as possible.  In Louisiana, making it easy seems . . . well easy.   Having established characters in different settings with different scenarios makes it fun developing the secondary characters, those unsuspecting and fortunate victims.  And, I think our two main actors have become stronger and more complex in identity with each new book.  Least I hope they have!

Naughty Reader’s: How do you pick locations for your stories?

Michele: I've mentioned to others that Michael and I love staying in old hotels like the Peabody in Memphis or the Arlington in Hot Springs. New Orleans, Mobile, Natchez, they all have extraordinary places to stay and dine. Breaks my heart the Bentley in Alexandria closed some years ago.  Historic bed & breakfast are favorites too. Again, there are so many truly romantic places so close by, all the ante bellum, they simply seem natural for us to set stories in.

Naughty Reader's: We understand Michael is making these really cool handmade leather journals? Please tell the readers about them.

Michele: Well, you'd be right! And they are super cool. And functional. Forever keepsakes to make your own and maybe give to someone someday. We'll be going public with them soon even though Michael is placing them nearly as fast as he can produce them. He DOES have to guide me up and down this bayou you know? I thoughtfully help to keep his priorities aligned! His Facebook link is: http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100000474424226  Check 'em out!

Naughty Reader's: What beautiful work he does! Michele, this week is going to be fun! Thank you again for visiting with us.

Readers: you can find Michele on Facebook and her books on the following links. And Michele is going to give away an ARC (advanced reviewer copy) in PDF to one lucky commenter!

Vantage Points - Amazon 
Robusto - Amazon 
She with the Most...Wins - Amazon 
Service Rendered - Amazon 

All books on B&N 

Excerpt: 

      As we stand waist deep in the pool's middle, a relaxed demeanor among us permits easy bantering. The clouds race above in an uncontested advance from the Gulf. In their hurry, they remain ambivalent to the hands placed on my hips, a proffered kiss to the back my shoulder. Experience tells me my man's eyes are cut to Eric, who stands directly in front of us, merely feet away. I feel those strong hands then the unmistakable caress I'm so familiar with. One hand traces slowly to my waist, the other gathering my hair from my shoulders. More kisses follow, delicacies to my nape. In accord, another hand moves from my waist to just beneath my breast, cupping me softly. Now, both palms are moving uniformly around the volume of my curves, lingering moments in full but soft clutch. My nipples tauten, the aching ever so pleasant. I feel them strain against the bikini's light fabric. Before closing my eyes, I see my lifeguard watching the unlikely stagecraft playing out in his presence.

       Bliss is unaccounted for in time. Realizing I've lost myself for a moment, my eyes open and I look directly into Eric's. Unlike the clouds, he is observant and very still, mesmerized by this improbable, slow-motion scene. My husband's hands move with practiced expertise to the straps, slowly releasing them from my shoulders. I feel them surrender, falling to my arms. The down on neck rises as the little fastener in back is freed and my top tumbles gently away, fully revealing nipples that point skyward, stiffened and drawing even tighter. Oh the agony! Full of drama, I feel the weight of my breasts settle and at the same instant, I feel the compelling and defining bulge of my husband from behind.

       I look at Eric, incredulous and indulge the moment, allowing for his full consumption before taking a deep breath to hold. I glide straight downward into the shallows depths, the fleeting touch of my husband's fingertips following on the backs of my arms. I imagine the bikini top floating on the surface in a vortex of tangled hair. With smooth precision and elegance of movement, I extend my hand backward in the submersion, finding the considerable authority beneath my husband's Bahaman shorts. Springing from the concrete bottom, I jettison across the pool, never surfacing until I reach the side. Then rising above the water's level, I discover no indication of a wake, my getaway so flawless. I bring my hands up and push water from my face, clearing my eyes. My breasts are buoyant just above the water line, floating, freed of restraint and gravity. From across the pool, I become witness to my admirers, one possessed of extreme confidence, the other, stunned like a goat! I hear but one voice, influence in its strength as it is calming in its certainty. "Perfect isn't she?" 

 

That Filthy Book, A Sexual Discovery for Karen and Jacob by Lily Harlem - Author Interview Apr 15 - 20

 This week Lily Harlem visits our boudoir. Lily partnered with Natalie Dae and wrote "That Filthy Book". Join us as she shares a snippet form the new release and how she loves to write.

Lily is chatting with us via beautiful Amsterdam. We may run into Karen and Jacob, they if can break away from their naughtiness!

Naughty Reader’s: Hi Lily! Welcome to the boudoir. Tell us a bit about yourself that our readers might not know.

Lily:  Mmm, okay, well I worked in a Trauma Unit in London for many years as a nurse. I certainly saw some sights there, which in turn has given me lots of characters and scenarios to draw on in my writing. It was an adrenaline-packed time of my life and although I found the work satisfying it was exhausting and I’m happy to have a slower pace to my days now.

Naughty Reader’s: What made you want to become a writer?

Lily: I have always loved both reading and writing. I was given a small, clunky typewriter when I was a child and adored tapping out my own little stories. For years I did nothing but academic writing, but a move to a rural part of the UK gave me time on my hands, and I took the plunge and picked up the pen again, but this time for fiction, romantic fiction in particular. Writing soon became a way of keeping my mind active. Also my compulsion to continue learning was enhanced with a creative writing course at the local university. It wasn’t long before I discovered a whole gang of characters and a pile of plot lines that were just waiting to get out…I was off!

Naughty Reader’s: Please share a bit about your new release That Filthy Book without giving away any spoilers.

Lily:  My latest release is actually a co-author written with Natalie Dae (aka Emmy Ellis, she writes different genre’s under different pen names). It is my first novel written with someone else and was enormous fun. We started writing That Filthy Book because Natalie had written a first chapter she wasn’t sure what to do with. I read it, loved the characters and asked if I could pick up where she’d left of. “Go for it!” she said. And that was it, the rest is history. The word count romped up and the characters, a married couple called Karen and Jacob, have a wild ride of sexual discovery as they remind each other of what it once was that had them ripping at each other’s clothes all those years ago. At times I felt like we were in competition with who could be the rudest, most shocking, it was a great experience and we have more co-authors in the pipeline all equally erotic.  Buy link total-E-Bound.

Naughty Reader’s: Do you write under a pen name?

Lily:  Yes.

Naughty Reader’s: What types of hero or heroine do you like best?

Lily:  Flawed characters, no one is perfect. Also people don’t always behave as they should, but when that happens as a writer it’s a challenge to ensure your reader still likes the hero or heroine, even if they are not doing the right thing. It’s a case of justifying their actions clearly and consistently.

Naughty Reader’s: Tell us about a typical day in your life as a writer.

Lily:  Well, like I said it’s definitely at a slower pace than when I was working as a nurse. I tend to get up early and breakfast with Mr. H. See him off to work and then take the dog for a walk on the beach. This is where I do a lot of thinking, whether it is planning my writing for the day, or dreaming up new stories. I then do my best to ignore the housework if I’m desperate to get something down, or if I’m not in the middle of a novel I make the most of sweeping up the dog and cat hairs. Mostly I’m immersed in my fictitious world though, pausing only to eat, sleep and let my family and friends know I still exist.

Naughty Reader’s: Do your books have a common theme or are they all different?

Lily: I write contemporary erotic romance, so my characters are in our world, present time with no super-human qualities or blood sucking tendencies. That’s not to say I don’t often have famous heroes and heroines, I do, my HOT ICE series is about the Vipers hockey team, and they are all sporting superstars!

Also I pride myself in that the bedroom door is left well and truly open, if you have invested in the hero, be it a controlling neurosurgeon with a kinky side, a drop-dead sexy rock-star, or a heart-stoppingly horny hockey player, you will definitely get to find out how he performs between the sheets and what all his little kinks are!

Naughty Reader’s: How long does it take you to write and then edit a story?

Lily:  A full novel, about two months to write, depending if I have to a pause and do some ‘real-life-stuff’. Editing is usually a few days, providing I’m happy with the plot and characters and haven’t had any Argh! moments.

Naughty Reader’s: Do you have to be alone to write?

Lily:  Pretty much, yes. I certainly couldn’t write with someone looking over my shoulder. And I like silence too. Some writers use music to put them in the mood of the scene they are writing, but that’s not me; alone and silent is what works. And not surprising really, when there is so much going on in my head!

Naughty Reader’s: How do you go about naming characters?

Lily:  I have a baby name book that I bought from a charity shop. I flick through and something always grabs my fancy. The Hot Ice series is fun for names as I give the players nicknames – I think Rick ‘Ramrod’ Lewis is my favorite!

Naughty Reader’s: Is it easier to write about the characters if you find pictures of them before you write or do you write then find character pictures?

Lily:  Definitely the latter. I have an image in my head and then drive myself nuts on Pinterest trying to find the right look. Someone has the eyes, but not the mouth, or the hair but not the jawline, the nose but not the body, do you get my drift?

Naughty Reader’s: How do you pick locations for your stories?

Lily:  Places I’ve been. It is so much easier that way. The sights, the smells, the atmosphere it’s already in my head. I’m already making so much up, its nice to have somewhere real to set the characters in. I particularly enjoyed writing Stockholm Surrender which is my next release at Ellora’s Cave, its much more international than my other books and some of it is set in Bangkok, a place I’ve been lucky enough to explore.

Stockholm Surrender has a little history of its own. In September 2010 I released a free read at Ellora’s Cave called Stockholm Seduction, a short story about the British Foreign Minister’s daughter getting kidnapped in Australia by a hot surfer dude who is using her as collateral to free his best mate from Thai prison. Turned out he wasn’t all bad and actually she quite liked him, well that’s an understatement, she really, really liked him!

But like I say, it was a short free story and there is only so much you can do in a few thousand words with your characters. However when I started getting reviews to the tune of “great story but I want more,” and “fab set up, if only it was longer”, I thought, okay, I’ll let the characters talk to me again see if I can write the full length novel.

Luckily Penny and Ty were very obliging and soon their steamy-hostage-taking-romance was written. I hope it hits the spot for readers who asked to spend more time with them! It was certainly a complete blast to write. I have included the original free read in the finished novel, as several readers suggested, and it is now the prologue. Although the full length isn’t yet available (keep an eye on my website for details) the free story can be downloaded anytime - http://www.jasminejade.com/p-8620-stockholm-seduction.aspx

If you want more free reads then there are links on my website. In 2009 I won the LoveHoney Award for Erotic Fiction and the winning story, Madam President, is available for free as is a podcast called A Classic Wedding Night all about Mr. and Mrs. Darcy’s first night together!

As a way of celebrating my time at A Naughty Reader’s Boudoir I would love to give away a pdf copy of Hired, the first book in my Hot Ice series which features the delectable, but hard to handle, Logan ‘Phoenix’ Taylor. Just leave a comment along with your email address and I will pick a winner at the end of the week.

Good luck and thanks so much for inviting me over to play!

Lily Harlem x

Naughty Reader's: Thank you again for visiting with us this week. Reader's leave a comment for a chance to win and you can find Lily on the Web at the following sites:
 

Website 

Blog 

Twitter 

Facebook 

Pinterest

Excerpt From: That Filthy Book by Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae

It seemed Lady Luck had joined us for our journey, giving the green light for all our needs to be met only three days after my confession of what I really wanted him to do with that branch.

Jacob’s parents had asked if they could take the girls to a circus on Saturday night. It started at eight, didn’t finish until ten, so they’d suggested it was more sensible that they keep them until Sunday morning, possibly Sunday afternoon if the children fancied having a roast dinner with them at the local pub.

I was not about to turn that opportunity down, especially when Jacob had been hot for the idea of outside sex. In fact, he’d been more than up for it, and the excited glint in his eye when I’d held up the carefully stripped bark had sent a tremble to my very core. Something told me I’d hit another very dark and very sinful nerve of his.

But always one to think of others, Jacob had already promised to help a work colleague move house on the Saturday. I didn’t mind too much because it left me with an empty afternoon to prepare for our evening of fun. I started with a pamper accompanied by a glass of wine, treating myself to a cucumber face mask, sugar body scrub, shave—including my pussy—manicure and pedicure and finally a generous slathering of body butter.

It left me feeling tingly and smooth, as if my body was honed and prepared. The thought of my silky, clean skin and perfectly neat red nails out in the open, amongst dirt and leaves, with the sootiness of bark mould smudged randomly over my body had me panting with excitement. I could just imagine mud squelching around my toes and the creamy skin of my wrists worn red by ropes. And the image of my arse marked raw by the branch, well, that had me feeling like a sacrificial offering.

For I knew that this evening I would be handing myself over to nature, to Jacob, and to my own darkest desires. The bare bones of my soul were about to be revealed. No holds barred, no chance to hide. They were the very skeleton of me that only Jacob would ever set eyes on.

When the dipping sun sent lilac and crimson fingers darting over the horizon I was ready—more than ready. I’d had a light tea and another glass of wine, resisted the temptation to masturbate—just—and saved myself for my husband.

The front door opened with a whoosh, then shut with a resounding slam. I spun from the kitchen window where I’d been staring at the darkening copse.

The copse that was ready and waiting.

Heavy footsteps banged down the hall. Loud and resolute, the sound reverberated around my head.

This was it. There was no turning back.

I didn’t want to. Not for anything.

The door swung open, and there he stood, with his broad shoulders filling the frame and his head bowed slightly. He pulled his brows low and set his jaw. A small muscle flexed and unflexed in his cheek.

"Get down on your knees, bitch."

I gasped at the completely thrilling sound of his bad man’s voice and folded my legs until my knees landed on the freshly swept lino. He was so feral, so dominant, not Jacob the protector, the carer. No, tonight I had Jacob the master, the taker, the giver of sinful pleasure.

Between one breath and the next he was in front of me, his groin level with my face and his hands on his hips. The scent of man and hard physical work washed over me, as well as perhaps a hint of a greasy spoon cafe where he’d no doubt been treated to pie and chips for the efforts of his day.

"Take out my cock."

I reached for the buttons on his jeans, surprised to see that my hands trembled. Excitement? Trepidation?

This had not been part of any plan, but I wasn’t complaining. In fact, there wasn’t a plan. All Jacob had asked was that I trust him. He said that he understood what I wanted and would make it all happen for me. Of course, we had a safe word, but I couldn’t imagine I would need it. I trusted Jacob with my life and my pleasure. I always would.

"Hurry up," he said, tangling his fingers in my neatly brushed, softly conditioned hair. "Take it out and suck it."

After I freed his cock, his length sprang into my palm, hot and thick, and the purple veins winding up the shaft bulged with his keen arousal.

In a sharp movement, he jerked forward and the tip slid into my salivating mouth. "Wider, whore," he snarled. "Take me, all of me."

I stretched my jaw and he sank deep, sliding to the back of my throat in one urgent movement. I gagged but he ignored it; pulled back then rode in again, all the time holding my head in a tight, vice-like grip so I had no choice but to take him, tip to base.

I’d sucked on Jacob’s cock a million times, but never had he taken control like this. He was always respectful and deathly still, allowing me to determine depth and pace. But this was different—this was sinful, depraved Jacob fucking my mouth without a thought for my well-being.

I adored it.

Needing support as my body was jostled by his thrusting hips, I gripped his thighs. Saliva ran down my face and neck onto my red blouse, my nose repeatedly buried in his wiry pubic hair. He steamed on and on, hissing and cursing above me. Breathing was difficult, my mouth was so chock-full of hard, demanding cock. When I did catch a breath the air was heated and smelt of him, musky and raw.

"Get fucking ready for it," he snarled, thrusting to such a depth his balls slapped against my chin. "I’m going to come down your throat. I’m going to fill you up, now...argh...fuck...now."

He let out a garrotted cry as his cock swelled further, then, in several sweet pulses, copious amounts of fluid gushed over my tongue. I swallowed rapidly, the action tugging the crown of his cock further down my throat.

"Ah, sweet...fucking...Jesus," he hissed, gripping my hair. "That’s it, keep sucking, swallow me."

I did as he asked. My body quivered, and I could almost come myself just from the feel and taste of him climaxing so hard and forcefully. Had he lain there all those millions of times I’d sucked him off, restraining himself? Had he wanted to throw me down and fuck my mouth in a hard, abandoned way, but resisted?

I didn’t have time to dwell on this because Jacob pulled out, gripped my upper arms and dragged me into a standing position. Gasping, I stared into his flushed face. His mouth was parted as he drew in big lungfuls of air. His eyes sparkled, the pupils wide and dilated, showing me the dark depths of his most basic needs.

"That’s just the beginning," he said in a rasping, breathy voice. "To take the edge off what you’ve had me thinking of for three days." He slanted his mouth down hard over mine, taking possession of my lips and tongue in a furious, ravenous kiss. He pulled away abruptly. "You’re such a tease," he muttered, "tempting me, turning me on. Well, now you’re going to get it. You’re going to get punished for making a man want you so bad it hurts his soul."

Lily's books on Amazon