Saturday, December 29, 2012

Velvet Tour: Excerpt/Giveaway




Velvet By Xavier Axelson
 
 
 
Title: Velvet
Author: Xavier Axelson
Genre: Erotica, Historical, Gay Romance,
Publisher: Seventh Window Publications
Ebook 
Words: 50,471
Purchase: 
Seventh Window Publications

Book Description:
The first novel from Xavier Axelson is set against a backdrop of decadence, privilege and intrigue. Virago, the royal tailor, makes a discovery that will test the bonds of brotherhood, unravel the forbidden secrets of his heart and threaten the very fabric of his existence. 
In a land where cruelty is disguised as allegiance, loyalty is masked by obligation and the laws of sumptuary govern the people, nothing is more dangerous than Velvet.
 
 
Excerpt:
 
I’d been staring at the vast body of water surrounding the ship when I was startled to find a woman, heavy with child standing by my side. She wore a red gown that gathered beneath her ample breasts. The gown fell freely, billowing against her in the brisk sea air. Her red hair hung in two braids threaded with crimson leather. Upon turning her head, small red jewels, woven throughout her hair, caught the light.
 
“The sea is dark as the grave, and as good at keeping secrets.”
 
“Who are you?” I asked. Since I’d boarded the ship the day before, I’d conversed only with Seton and my brother, Sylvain. I’d yet to earn my sea legs and everything seemed strange.
 
“I am Adis, wife of Doremme, the man whose ship you stand upon.” She came closer. “Secrets are only as powerful as those who carry them and the sea is a perfect place to bury what haunts you.”
 
“You talk as though you know me, and as I am a stranger on this ship, I know this cannot be.” I was about to bow and take my leave when she laughed.
 
“Fear is not your way, tailor. You were the royal tailor of the king whose land we left, were you not?”
Were the royal tailor… Her words struck at my heart. I felt this truth so keenly that I gripped the ship railings to steady myself.
 
“I fear only those who know more of me than I wish, and while I am indebted to your husband for granting us passage, I am in no mood for games.”
 
Though her laughter died, a smile lingered on her lips. “I mean you no harm, but you seem to have caught the interest of my child.”
 
I looked at her swollen belly. “Your child?”
 
“This is my third and final.” Her hands caressed her stomach. “She will be a visionary, and in her birth, I will know death. Not unlike your mother. She bore your brother, who I am told is also a visionary. And blind. How fortunate. Those who are physically afflicted see further than those who aren’t. Nature seldom curses without blessing at the same time.”
 
This time I laughed. “Perhaps you should ask my brother if he thinks himself fortunate. Or better, summon my father from the grave. Ask if he wished his wife lived and his son had sight!”
 
After this outburst, we grew silent, but the woman did not leave my side.
 
I closed my eyes and swallowing hard, felt the pull of the stiff fabric scrap tied around my throat. The raucous shrieks of hungry gulls overhead made me look up into the sky. I watched as the birds swooped and mercilessly chased each other. I envied their flight, but cringed beneath their cries.
 
Behind my eyes, I saw white peacocks, heard their shrieks, and felt the crawl of disease. I shuddered, shook my head of further memory, and let my eyes fall upon the distant horizon. Would I never know peace? Or would memories chase me like the gulls chase one another, endlessly hungry and insistent?
 
When Adis eventually spoke, these questions and memories faded away. “True, your father suffered, but his gifts as a tailor delivered him from the grief of losing his wife and gave him the strength to care for a blind son.”
 
The truth in her words, stirred long buried pain. While Sylvain’s blind, tumultuous, and bloody welcoming into the world killed our mother, it also strengthened my father’s resolve to care for us at any cost.
 
I know not what would have become of us without King Killian’s demand for my meager abilities as a tailor. We would have been lost, we owe our king a great debt and service.

My father told this to me one day when I found him bleary eyed and exhausted at his work. I could remember the way his hands trembled, the nerves in his fingers twitching involuntarily as he struggled with buttonholes on a vest meant for Killian’s nephew.

When his voice vanished, a bitter sadness rose in me as the sea’s waves crashed against the ship.

“Say no more to me. If you were not mistress of this vessel I would think unkindly of you!”

Before she could reply, music, soft and familiar reached us. I knew the player of the tune, knew it because my heart leapt at its playing as it did the first time I’d heard it.

“Someone has leant Seton a lyre. How beautifully he plays, and how lucky his hands are healing. He is a man of passion and strength. It is no wonder you found love with him, as he with you.” Adis placed a hand on my wrist. “I am no witch or visionary. My daughter beckons from my womb. I am but a vessel as is this ship. She is my most precious cargo, and anxious to know life. You must forgive me if I have angered you. Her voice comes from my lips, so I am often unaware of what I say.”

The music rose, fell away only to start again, and as it did, I examined the woman, and seeing her kind face, put a tired hand over hers. “There is nothing to forgive. I am the one speaking from another place.”

“Your voice comes from the shores we have left behind. It would be wise to find a new sound to carry with you.”

Beyond her I saw my brother sitting cross-legged, his fox playing in his lap. He seemed peaceful. “I keep staring into the sea hoping it will take the past from me, but it seems I may never know peace.”

“In time, you shall. Nothing is forever, except the sea.” Adis cast her eyes from my face to the expanse of water surrounding us. “She is our eternal mother and will listen to you forever.”

Behind Adis’s rather mystical analogy, I had a sobering thought. “There is so much uncertainty in the world. I wonder if I have done right. Perhaps I could have done better.”

“You left a land soon to be riddled with illness. This alone made it the wisest decision for you all.”

Her knowing so much of my life discomforted me. “Must everything be told in portents and omens? What of reality? What of truth?”

“Ahh truth. It is a funny thing and varied as the sunlight on the waves. I am a merchant’s wife and have seen much in this world. Men who love men, women who love women, even a man who loved a woman he believed to have been transformed into a goat by the tree witches in the north! The world is wide and there are many lands with many kinds of people. You will see soon enough.”

“I have not heard talk of the tree witches since I played at my mother’s feet. Surely they no longer exist!” I replied, incredulously.

“I cannot say. Who can say if they exist or ever really did?” Adis said.

I sighed resignedly. “I have lived a small life in the court of a small king, and I carry the wounds of that life as sure as I carry the clothes on my back.”

“It is not for me to say what you carry with you, but I can give you a piece of advice not from my daughter, but from my own lips: Stop trying to escape what haunts you, instead think long and hard about it. Every detail, every nightmare, dream and transgression. Leave nothing out. Do this until you have expelled the poison, and when there is no more, you will find yourself exactly where you are supposed to be.”

With these words, Adis left me. I stood alone, listening to the sea, the sound of Seton’s music, the distant cries of the squabbling gulls, and my eyes focused on the unknown horizon.

What led me to find myself on the water, destination unknown? The life I knew was gone, broken, and mercurial as the swirling foam frothing in the ships crushing wake.

I would tell myself the story, if only to steal a glimpse at the unknown ending.

How would my tale end? Beginnings are for children; fairy stories begin with “Once upon a time.”
Once upon a time there was a tailor. He knew string, scissor, and pin. He did not know his heart.
My breath caught. Oh, my heart. Once upon a time, there was a heart and it was not free… I was a tailor. Once…

No, it cannot begin this way. My heart knew dangerous things, but now it was free and in it’s new freedom I allowed it to teach me the way my story should begin and knew by wild instinct, if I followed it, I would know the ending, a true, and dare I hope, happy ending.

With no one to listen but the dark sea and the wheeling, crying gulls, I closed my eyes and let my thoughts move with the undulating water, its gentle rocking seeming to urge the release of my torment.

The castle, dark and glorious, loomed up in my memory… 


About the Author:

Xavier Axelson is a writer and columnist living in Los Angeles.


Website | Twitter | Facebook |








Giveaway

To win a chance at one of the 6 copies of "Velvet" up for grabs thanks to the generous Xavier Axelson, enter the rafflecopter below!!






Friday, December 21, 2012

Birthday Boy By Cassandra Carr

Birthday Boy
 
*Submitted for review by Publisher/Author*

Genre: Erotica

Description:

Johnny Quinn's not thrilled about creeping ever closer to forty, and the loud, thumping bass in the dance club his girlfriend Steffi has dragged him to on his birthday isn't helping. Then she makes a bold suggestion. She wants to have sex in the middle of the club.
After picking his jaw up from the floor, Johnny agrees. But that's not all--Steffi's got more sexy surprises in store. Johnny's not sure any birthday could top this year’s, and he's left wondering what Steffi will do to make him an even happier birthday boy next year.






Review

What a sexy little story! This may be an Ellora’s Cave for men read but I sure enjoyed it, steamy and enticing.  I like how Johnny cared so much for Steffi, thinking of her needs and making sure she would find the experience pleasurable compared to her past bad experience with an ex. The public scene was rather hot, and I liked the contrast between Steffi’s confidence here and her hesitation when she tries something she is unsure of later back at home with Johnny.

I have read other books from Carr but I didn’t know she also wrote stories that catered to the men out there, after all they need some spicey stories too. So if you are a man out there who likes to read a bit of erotica I’d suggest giving Cassandra Carr a go, or even if you are female and looking for a hot quickie this would be one to try.





Rating: ««««

Monday, December 17, 2012

I Want That One Tour Review/Giveaway

I Want That One

Author:  Paige E. Roberts
Publisher: Wild Child Publishing    
Length:
   Novella
Sub-Genres:  BDSM/Erotica


Description:

Lady Jane wants Will for her slave, and she'll pay a high price to get him. Will dreams of a life under her spike heels, but in the future city-state of New York, it's illegal to enslave a free man. Jane, once a notorious hacker, now a network security consultant, isn't used to letting a little thing like the law keep her from getting what she wants. When a bound and naked Will is delivered to her kitchen door, she takes great pleasure in using leather cat and cuffs and cruel penetrating sex games to tame him. But Will must prove his loyalty to her before he can take his rightful place forever kneeling at her perfect feet.






Review

There is nothing I love more than a story where the lead female had the power! Lady Jane was one hell of a woman, not just with the way she uses her power but she is also has the smarts to back up the way she acts, she walks the walk and talks the talk. She knows what she wants, and she will make sure that she gets it or there is hell to pay....Mainly for Will, who is what lady Jane desires most.

I wish this had been longer, but even though it was on the short side, I still quite enjoyed it. I could only just imagine what kind of steamy sexual exploits Lady Jane and Rain would have gotten up to after the auction, the ending was a bit of a tease and I hope there is more to come! I would give this three and a half stars.

 
Rating: «««



Buy Links:

Wild Child: http://www.freyasbower.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=5&products_id=280

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/I-Want-That-One-ebook/dp/B009OUE26K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1351820464&sr=8-1&keywords=%22i+want+that+one%22


 About The Author:

Paige E. Roberts has published a variety of sexy stories in the US and UK on the fringes of reality and beyond: fantasy, science fiction, superhero, vampire, and shape-shifter stories, with D/s, SM, GLBT, BDSM, and other alphabet soup elements. She lives in Round Rock with her husband and two kids and is active in the local kink community, co-founder of the Voyagers group. Her futuristic femdom story “I Want That One” just came out from www.freyasbower.com “Bare Throat, Naked Hunger,” her anthology of erotic vampire stories is available in e-book or print from www.midnightshowcase.com , Amazon, or Fictionwise. Her sci fi interrogation scene story, “Caught,” is in the new “Best Erotic Fantasy and Science Fiction” anthology from Circlet Press.





`~ Giveaway ~`

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Santa's Little Helper Scavenger Hunt

 

BTS Tours and Freya’s Bower are proud to present the Santa’s Little Helper Scavenger Hunt. 32 blogs have linked together to allow you to hunt for 32 different words that will be hidden in each post, so at the end of the hunt you will have 32 answers to plug into the rafflecopter. Please DO NOT leave your answers in the comment section. We want this to be fun for everyone, and not take the challenge out of the game. So this is how it works.
 
All the blogs listed below will post their game piece on their allotted date. You are looking for one word (related to Christmas or Sex) to plug into the rafflecopter as your answer. For Example:'
If you are on Close Encounters with the Night Kind, and find your word (clues will be provided for you in the banner) you log into the rafflecopter form and place your answer in the box marked Close Encounters of the Night Kind. Follow along the entire Scavenger Hunt and collect all 32 clues. We will be drawing for 4 $25 dollar Gift Certificates to Freya’s Bower. Happy Hunting!!!
 
 
 
 
 
The Forge: Discoveries

Title: The Forge: Discoveries
Author: Shaunna Wolf
Publisher: Wild Child Publishing
Length: Novella
Sub-Genres: Science Fiction/Interracial

Blurb:

Jezren Darksky left Earth behind for the lure of the stars, and to escape her life on the streets. Accepted into the renowned Night Bird Warrior's Guild she never expects to find the love of her life in the form of an alien man and then lose him. After chasing three fugitives across ten worlds, and nearly losing her life in the process, Jezren returns to the Guild Home world to mark her husband's death. Lonely and guilt-ridden, Jezren makes a discovery in the arms of another non-human man that will change her life forever.

Excerpts:

"You shouldn't have tried to touch my sword. If my hand hadn't been on it..." She poured another shot of whiskey and tossed it into the fire. The flames flared brightly, lapping up the alcohol in a quick burst.
He reached with a serpent's speed and caught her hand. "I didn't want to touch your sword..." He cleared his throat and grasped her hand tighter. "I have to touch you," he whispered.
Jezren made to pull her hand out of his. He touched his lips to the back of her hand. Very slowly, his tongue slid over her flesh, long, thin at the tip getting thicker near his lips. Like his lips, it was a lighter shade of blue than the rest of him and cat rough. Jezrensucked in a breath, quick, hard-she made a small attempt to take her hand away.

He continued to stare at her, his gaze locked with hers. His ice-blue eyes now looked tinged with purple. Whiskey fire burned through her insides and streaked into her loins when he wound his tongue around one of her fingers, not just once, but in two blue swirls. He slowly pulled it back into his mouth-sliding it off one finger before circling the next one.

Jezren shivered, sure her sudden desire would be soaking the chair seat soon. Using her free hand, she took a sip of the costly amber liquid in the small bottle. She'd already had too much, not so much she couldn't think for herself, but enough that he, with his seductive tongue, had won her will.

"Perhaps," she whispered, "I should know your name." He continued to wrap and unwrap his tongue around her fingers. He turned her arm and pushed her sleeve up so he could lick the inside of her arm.

"Names, what does a name really matter?" he asked without stopping his attention to her arm.

She gasped, aware of others in the room staring at them even though she'd closed her eyes, the heat growing between her legs hotter already than the fire in the hearth. When he stroked his nails down the now sensitive flesh of her arm, she sat up straight and stared directly at him. She reached to touch his braid-her fingers meeting with smooth strands of silkiness. He laughed in a soft way that sung on her nerves and made her squeeze her legs together in self-pleasure. She could no longer sit still.

Shifting positions, she pushed the bottle to the side and leaned toward him. "I have a room," she whispered.

Catching her by surprise, he pushed his mouth against hers. His tongue rasped across her lips, probing, but waiting for her permission. She parted her lips and let her tongue touch his. His mouth tasted sweet, overlain with the smooth touch of the whiskey. Only by pushing against his chest with her palm could she make herself move back from him.

A flash of laughter came to her, Din'arik's. Jezren had repeated an oft said thing among the humans at the academy-Din'arik resembled a demon-who knew what he might expect from a human woman or what his "thing" might be like. So many of the human women who came to the academy were such proper prudes. Among the students, there had been two groups-those who stayed with their own kind, and those who deliberately sought out other races for both friendship and partnership. Jezren had almost learned the hard way that not all races were compatible with each other-barbs being the least of it.

His musical laughter came again, and at last his deep voice, shaking, almost unsure. "Lady, you will enjoy me-I have been with human women before," he told her. His tongue went around her fingers again, promising pleasure in other places.

Buy Links:
Freya's Bower Site


`~Giveaway~` 
 

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Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Gabriel's Inferno By Sylvain Reynard

Gabriel's Inferno (Gabriel's Inferno #1)

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Description:

Enigmatic and sexy, Professor Gabriel Emerson is a well-respected Dante specialist by day, but by night he devotes himself to an uninhibited life of pleasure. He uses his notorious good looks and sophisticated charm to gratify his every whim, but is secretly tortured by his dark past and consumed by the profound belief that he is beyond all hope of redemption.

When the sweet and innocent Julia Mitchell enrolls as his graduate student, his attraction and mysterious connection to her not only jeopardizes his career, but sends him on a journey in which his past and his present collide.








Review

I’m not even sure where to start with how I feel about Gabriel’s Inferno, there is so much I want to say yet I can’t seem to find the right words to do it justice. This book may be one of the most emotionally charged books I have read in a while and it sucked me right in, I felt for the characters, I felt for Gabriel and for Julia.

I must admit, when I started the reading I was expecting this steamy, smutty read that would leave me breathless, and the read did leave me breathless in some moments but for a completely different reason. The reason being the emotion, the turmoil and the crushing moments between Gabriel and Julia, they were like nothing I have read before, they were intense and they were raw.

As the story started to be revealed and the characters scarring, wounding pasts were unravelling I found myself becoming more and more enthralled in the read, I needed to see what would happen in the end, if Gabriel and Julia could help heal each other and be happy. Gabriel was such a tortured soul, feeling nothing but hatred for himself, like he was a curse. Julia was lost inside herself, trapped behind her own defences and afraid to trust anyone. Together they were each other’s saviours.

I feel like I have been on a rollercoaster ride, there were so many highs and so many deep, deep lows. I was tossing up between giving this read a solid four and a half stars and five, I wasn’t sure where to go but with how much this read affected me and touched me, I knew that this read deserved the full five stars. I cannot wait to see where the story leads in the second book.






Rating: «««««

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Stroke The Fire Tour: Guest Post/Giveaway

 
 
Guest Post
 
M.Christian DAY 1 – Intelligence Is Imagination With An Erection 

I didn't always want to be a writer.  Sure, I was one of those kids: the ones who are too bright, too creative, too curious – and, yes, in case you're interested, I was bullied ... a lot – but actually doing anything with that brightness, creativity, curiosity didn't pop into mind until high school.

But, boy, did it POP.  In retrospect it's more than a bit ... odd (to be polite) how enthusiastic and disciplined I became about writing.  In hindsight a lot of it probably had to do with trying to find an escape from a less-than-perfect family dynamic – but another big motivator was that I'd always been the kid who didn't just talk about doing things: I did them.  Perfect example: I remember, in early elementary school, discovering that the science classroom had a darkroom ... so I went home and over the weekend read every book I could on photography so when I came back on Monday I developed my first roll of film and did my first few test prints.  

Alas, discipline and enthusiasm are fine and good – actually they are absolutely essential in a writer – but my discipline and enthusiasm was focused on Mount Everest: selling a story to the likes of Fantasy & Science Fiction.   Early rejections didn't stop me – in fact nothing stopped me – and I kept trying, kept writing, kept submitting: my goal was a short story a week and/or three pages of writing or three pages of just story ideas.

And, you know, it worked -- sort of.  I've never sold a story to Fantasy & Science Fiction but all that work, all that passion, paid off ... abet in a very unusual and totally unexpected way.

Eventually I made my way to the Bay Area, got married, and – on a total whim – took a class from Lisa Palac who, at the time, was editing a magazine called FutureSex.  When I discovered ... well, sex, my stories got a little more (ahem) mature.  It was one of those stories I was brave enough to hand to Lisa.

What happened next is, to resort to cliché – and hyperbole – is the stuff of legends: Lisa not just liked the story but bought it.  A year later Susie Bright also liked the story and bought it for Best American Erotica 1994.

Sure, it took me ten years of trying (and, yes, you may whistle at that) but that wasn't important.  People often ask me why I write what I write --
lesbian erotica, gay erotica, bisexual erotica, kink after fetish after stroke after stroke – and the answer couldn't be simpler.

I am a writer ... and for someone who lives to tell stories, who worked so hard to hang onto that brightness, creativity, curiosity, discipline, and enthusiasm, finding a way to do what I love to do and be recognized for it, in demand for it, and even paid for it there is simply nothing better.

My name is Chris, my main pseudonym is M.Christian, and I am a pornographer ... and I couldn't be happier.

(by the way, the quote that starts this is by Victor Hugo ... and is a kind of personal philosophy)
 
 
 
Stroke The Fire
 

Sizzling tales of bad boys, bruised hearts, and sweaty encounters. Lambda Award finalist M. Christian’s stories of men-who-love-men have been selected for Best Gay Erotica, Best American Erotica, and Best of the Best Gay Erotica. Evesdrop on what hot men who are doing hot things with other hot men say to each other between the sheets ... and up against the wall. Start reading the firey ManLove fiction of M. Christian with this personally selected collection of his best. "A wonderful book … just the thing if you are in the mood for an enjoyable quickie (or twenty)." -Mathilde Madden, author Reflection's Edge. [Don't miss the other books in "M. Christian's ManLove Collection from Sizzler Editions.] And don't miss his Lambda Finalist book, Dirty Words. "Fairy tales whispered to one another by dark angels whose hearts and mouths are brimming with lust." -Michael Thomas Ford, Lambda Award winning author Looking for It.

 

 

Excerpt: FROM THE STORY “STROKE THE FIRE”

“Man’s got a home, then that’s where he sleeps.  Can’t, myself, see how you can stand the god-derned quiet out there in the flats,” Lew had said, listening to the music of the man’s voice.

The man shrugged, the tip of his cigar bobbing in the soft night.  ”That it be.  Name’s Last.  Jeff Last.”

Lew wiped the grime off his hands (and hopefully the fool’s grin off his face) and offered his own.  ”Lew.  Just Lew around here.”

The handshake lasted a bit too long, long enough for the two men to size each other up.  Lew in his Stinkhole clothes was a burly barrel of a man, all beard and round blue eyes.  He looked fat from aways, but if you’re ever seen him haul cornmeal or lumber you’d know that it was iron, fella, strong, strong, iron and not just insulation against Craggy’s winds.

Last was long and lanky, and while the light was none too good in that narrow little ways between the public corral and Miller’s Fine Feeds, you could tell that he was a beanpole: Six feet easy, in buckskin and serape.  In the dark beneath his wide brimmed hat, his shaved face was carved and as Craggy as Lew’s mountain home.  The handshake had lasted way too long.  Now, he thought, how to get this fine feller up the mountain…

“Gotta hit the trail if I’m ta make Ridgewood by dawn,” Jeff had said, and Lew’s heart had sunk down to his Stinkhole boots.

“Knows how it is–” he had said, starting to turn, maybe extend a hand, and an invitation for another time.

“But you is one fine figure of a man.  Might temptin’–”

Lew stared, unsure of how exactly to respond.

“You think the same, Lew of the Mountain?” Jeff had said.

Even in the low light cast from the lanterns of Sal’s Lew could see Jeff’s fine figure, out in all it’s glory there in the “street” of Stinkhole.

 

 Buy Links:
 




About The Author:

M.Christian has become an acknowledged master of erotica, with more than 400 stories in such anthologies as Best Gay Erotica, Best Best Bisexual Erotica, Best American Erotica, and Best Fetish Erotica. He has had three collections of stories about men who love men published, Body Work, Filthy Boys, and Dirty Words, which was a Lambda Award finalist. And he is the author of two man-love novels, the vampire classic, and Me2, a gay thriller. M. Christian is also a veteran anthologist, and with more than 25 to his credit, including the Best S/M Erotica series; Pirate Booty; My Love For All That Is Bizarre: Sherlock Holmes Erotica; The Burning Pen; Garden of Perverse, and others. Sizzler Editions/Attraction, a glbt imprint, recently issued his personal selection of his best gay erotica in the ebook, Stroke the Fire. A genre-busting author, M. Christian has also written non-fiction (Welcome to Weirdsville, How To Write and Sell Erotica), as well as lesbian, straight, futuristic, fantasy and horror erotica. All three of his gay male collections, both novels, and Stroke the Fire have all recently been released as M. Christian’s The ManLove Collection .

 Author's Page / Google+ / Facebook / Flickr

 

 

 

 

 Blog Giveaway
 
At every stop the author wants to giveaway a copy of Stroke the Fire and his other book The Bloody Marys! Just rafflecopter to enter.
 
 

 
 

Tour Wide Giveaway