Thanks so much for having me on your blog, Erzabet
to spotlight my erotic contemporary series, The
Good Sister!
The Good Sister (part one) is the first of a
two-book erotic contemporary series, and has been a labor of love to write.
Inspiration to write, for me anyway, comes from so many different things. A
place, a picture, a song, a poem, and even quotes. The idea for The Good Sister
came from a quote, and blossomed into a two book series. Here’s the quote that
started it all:
We always long for the forbidden things, and desire
what is denied us.
~Francois Rabelais~
The
Good Sister Part One Blurb:
Trinity Lane Winslow feared everything and lived her
life vicariously through others. She dreamed of the impossible, yearning to be
the kind of woman men desired—especially Reid Addison.
Reid Addison feared nothing, except how the mousey
little blonde daughter of his housekeeper made him feel. Even though Trinity Winslow wasn’t his type,
there was something intriguing about her.
Lord Ashton Archer lived a fairy tale life with
property all over the world, was heir to a ducal dynasty, and had women fawning
all over him. Anything a man could want, he obtained by the snap of his
fingers.
By a twist of fate the three of them find their way
into the same illicit world of the infamous Madam Jacqueline Claudette
Rousseau. But will they find what each of them truly desires? Or will they always
long for the forbidden?
Be
Warned: Voyeurism, anal sex, rimming, spanking, bondage, multiple partners.
The
Good Sister Part One Excerpt:
Strong
hands wrapped around the tops of my arms, pulling my body back into a muscular
chest.
“Why do you haunt me?” he whispered against my ear.
Goose bumps traversed my skin. My body, my reactions would give me away. I must find a way not to react to Reid.
“Please, speak to me,” Reid urged, “I need to hear your voice for my own sanity.”
I turned the doorknob, took Reid by the hand, and led him into my room. I turned off the lights, leaving us in dimness. The fire was low, no longer raging, but I would need to be careful. If I moved him to the settee by the dressing area there would be very little light, and he would not be able to fully see me. With his hand in mine, I took Reid to the settee. I pressed upon his chest, urging him to sit. I placed my fingertip to his lips, indicating not to speak. Reid sat. I unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time.
“There is something about you which haunts me, calls to me, makes me think—” I stopped him with my lips.
I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, urging me to stay. I pulled back, took his hand, turned it palm up, and with my index finger I wrote: NO.
“Please, tell me who you are?”
I closed my small hand over his, giving him my final answer.
Ashton bulldozed through my thoughts. Something about this made me feel guilty, but I need not be guilty. I’d come here for Reid. All of this was for Reid.
Reid shrugged out of his shirt. I skimmed my hands over his chest then over his rippled stomach without reservation or hesitation. He was my goal, my focus, what I wanted, what I had always wanted. My hands moved to the buttons on his jeans. I popped the first button and ran my fingertips over the strength of his stomach once more, circling his navel. His stomach muscles responded with a flexing jerk.
Reid placed his nose to my hair and sniffed. I made it through the button fly of his jeans, and slipped my hand inside the denim to feel Reid iron hard beneath my hand. I stroked him, squeezed him, took in every inch of him. Reid groaned. I gripped at his pants, pulling.
Reid stood up, and removed his pants. Once they were gone he sat back down. I fell to my knees, at his feet, slid up between his legs, grasped his hard cock in my hand, and placed a kiss to the tip of him.
“Shit,” he muttered.
I lifted my hand. He quieted. I kissed his cock, and stroked his balls, but I knew he wanted hard and fast. I remembered how he pleasured himself in the shower. How he fucked Breeze. Rough. I had to be prepared to give him what he needed. It would be nothing like Ashton. I thought about Ashton again, but I plucked Ashton from my thoughts. Reid was why I’d come to France. Reid was who I desired. I couldn’t desire two men, could I? But something about Ashton was different. No, I cannot have feelings for Ashton. I mouthed the ridge of Reid’s broad head.
Reid snapped. He thrust his hips, thrusting his cock deep, grabbing at the back of my head, pushing my head down upon him, entangling his fingers into my hair, fisting.
I didn’t struggle. I breathed through my nose, relaxed my throat.
“Fuck,” he muttered. He let loose of my head.
Reid got up from the settee, grabbed his shirt then stopped. He was silent for a long moment. I watched as he pulled on his jeans, securing them. He walked to the door. In the dim light I saw him run his fingers through his hair, stopping to scrub the back of his neck. He gripped his shirt in the other hand. I wondered if I should go to him. I stood, walked to him, and reached out. I placed my hand to his muscled back.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper.
“Why do you haunt me?” he whispered against my ear.
Goose bumps traversed my skin. My body, my reactions would give me away. I must find a way not to react to Reid.
“Please, speak to me,” Reid urged, “I need to hear your voice for my own sanity.”
I turned the doorknob, took Reid by the hand, and led him into my room. I turned off the lights, leaving us in dimness. The fire was low, no longer raging, but I would need to be careful. If I moved him to the settee by the dressing area there would be very little light, and he would not be able to fully see me. With his hand in mine, I took Reid to the settee. I pressed upon his chest, urging him to sit. I placed my fingertip to his lips, indicating not to speak. Reid sat. I unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time.
“There is something about you which haunts me, calls to me, makes me think—” I stopped him with my lips.
I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, urging me to stay. I pulled back, took his hand, turned it palm up, and with my index finger I wrote: NO.
“Please, tell me who you are?”
I closed my small hand over his, giving him my final answer.
Ashton bulldozed through my thoughts. Something about this made me feel guilty, but I need not be guilty. I’d come here for Reid. All of this was for Reid.
Reid shrugged out of his shirt. I skimmed my hands over his chest then over his rippled stomach without reservation or hesitation. He was my goal, my focus, what I wanted, what I had always wanted. My hands moved to the buttons on his jeans. I popped the first button and ran my fingertips over the strength of his stomach once more, circling his navel. His stomach muscles responded with a flexing jerk.
Reid placed his nose to my hair and sniffed. I made it through the button fly of his jeans, and slipped my hand inside the denim to feel Reid iron hard beneath my hand. I stroked him, squeezed him, took in every inch of him. Reid groaned. I gripped at his pants, pulling.
Reid stood up, and removed his pants. Once they were gone he sat back down. I fell to my knees, at his feet, slid up between his legs, grasped his hard cock in my hand, and placed a kiss to the tip of him.
“Shit,” he muttered.
I lifted my hand. He quieted. I kissed his cock, and stroked his balls, but I knew he wanted hard and fast. I remembered how he pleasured himself in the shower. How he fucked Breeze. Rough. I had to be prepared to give him what he needed. It would be nothing like Ashton. I thought about Ashton again, but I plucked Ashton from my thoughts. Reid was why I’d come to France. Reid was who I desired. I couldn’t desire two men, could I? But something about Ashton was different. No, I cannot have feelings for Ashton. I mouthed the ridge of Reid’s broad head.
Reid snapped. He thrust his hips, thrusting his cock deep, grabbing at the back of my head, pushing my head down upon him, entangling his fingers into my hair, fisting.
I didn’t struggle. I breathed through my nose, relaxed my throat.
“Fuck,” he muttered. He let loose of my head.
Reid got up from the settee, grabbed his shirt then stopped. He was silent for a long moment. I watched as he pulled on his jeans, securing them. He walked to the door. In the dim light I saw him run his fingers through his hair, stopping to scrub the back of his neck. He gripped his shirt in the other hand. I wondered if I should go to him. I stood, walked to him, and reached out. I placed my hand to his muscled back.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper.
The Good Sister (Part Two) completes the series, and
will be released by Evernight Publishing on November 1, 2012.
The
Good Sister Part Two Blurb:
Trinity Lane Winslow stepped out of her fantasy
world and into the real one on a quest to obtain the object of her desire—Reid
Addison. The pursuit led her to the infamous Madam Jacqueline Claudette
Rousseau, the man she craved, and the debonair Lord Archer, the man who offered
what she really longed for—love.
When Reid revealed his dark side, he knew he’d
sealed his fate and pushed Trinity into the waiting arms of Lord Archer. Can he
live with his decision?
Lord Archer would do anything for his beautiful
Trinity, but is he strong enough to hold onto her with all that conspire
against them?
The
Good Sister Part Two Excerpt:
The ride back to the chateau was brief,
only because I curled up on Ashton and fell asleep. I was surprised when he
woke me with the news we had arrived, nonetheless happy to feel his lips
pressed firmly upon mine. When the kiss became a little more heated, and I
sucked his tongue into my mouth, our exit from the car waited.
“Ashton, we should get out of the car
because if we continue I may do naughty things.”
Ashton guffawed. “Yes, I am in agreement,
my dove. And by the by, you need to button your shirt.”
“And you need to zip your pants.”
Clothes straightened, breath regained, and
thoughts cleared, we left the confines of the car. When we walked through the
door of the chateau, everyone came to meet us. That in itself wasn’t unusual,
but what was unusual was the fact everyone seemed to be on edge.
“Welcome back, my petit,” Jacqueline
greeted, giving me a peck on the cheek.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Why is
everyone looking like someone died?”
“Reid is here,” Breeze confessed in a
rush, blurting out the words. “He’s been on a rant.”
As if a tornado called forth on cue, Reid
stormed into the foyer.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, glaring at me. “Do
you know how worried I have been about you? I knew Archer was coming, but you
never said anything about leaving with him.”
“Reid,” Alec, Jacqueline’s muscle and
right hand man, said in his warning voice. “You will calm your voice and
control your anger while speaking with Trinity, or I will throw you out.”
Ashton stepped in front of me.
“Reid,” he said, and to my surprise he was
using a polite tone. “I understand how you might worry for Trinity. However, I
can assure you, I would never allow any harm to befall her.”
Reid’s eyes flickered fury.
“Archer.” Reid’s voice sounded as though
acid was on his tongue. “I really could care less what you have to say.”
“Stop it!” I said. I huffed around
Ashton, feet planted firmly. “Reid, you have no claim over me nor do you have
any say in who I spend my time with or where I go.”
Reid glared at me for a moment then the
glare changed to anger apparent as his features turned to stone. His silver
eyes narrowed. Ashton held on to my waist, as if he were ready to snatch me
back and pummel Reid if necessary.
“Trinity,” Reid said through clenched jaw.
“Do you want to tell me something?”
“No,” I said, lifting the set of my chin.
“So you don’t want to tell me why you are
wearing a fucking rock on your hand?”
Immediately, everyone seemed to stare at
my hand.
“Well...” Ashton smiled. “We were going to
make a formal announcement, but since Addison is set on making a scene,” Ashton
said, taking hold of my hand. “I have asked Trinity to marry me, and she has
accepted my proposal.”
A cacophony of noise followed. Gleeful
laughter from all my sisters could be heard. Sincere congratulations from Alec.
A hitching breath from Jacqueline, and a quite loud, “Fucking hell, you have
got to be pulling my dick!” from Reid.
I snapped.
“Reid, I swear. You may be my friend, but I
want to punch you in the face!”
Ashton chuckled.
“Trinity,” Reid muttered, looking almost befuddled.
“Fucking shit!” he yelled.
He balled up his fist before he threw up
his hands. Reid turned and stormed past everyone, cussing all the way out the
front door before he slammed it with a thundering shake.
Ashton smiled his wicked smile, gazing at
me. “That went rather well,” he said with a tone of not quite joking.
Author London Saint James BIO
London wrote
her first short story in the second grade.
Her teacher informed her parents London had a big imagination, but
having a big imagination wasn’t necessarily a good thing as far as he was
concerned. Without watering that seed of
imagination, London placed her vivid characters, her childhood stories, along
with her imagination on the shelf, where they would wither for a while. At the urging of her eighth grade English
teacher, London pulled her imagination off that shelf and wrote her second short
story. To no surprise, it was a love
story which was inspired by a song. With
encouragement, London began to write once again. She fell head over heels in love with
writing, the power of words and the journey we all take when we read a great
story. Then as life does it moves on, so
yet again London placed her imagination on the shelf to wither for a
while. She needed to do the “sensible
thing.”
In doing the
sensible thing London earned a degree in Psychology. While in college she traversed into writing
once more, was encouraged by a couple of professors to pursue that endeavor,
and wrote. In doing so, she lit that
spark of imagination which she thought was long dead.
London
writes erotic romance, from sweet to downright naughty. She is an author for Evernight Publishing and
a member of the Romance Writers of America as well as a member of Passionate
Ink.
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Those look so hot London! I can't wait to read them. Stay tuned for up and coming reviews. Thanks for being on the blog today!
Thanks so much for having me!
ReplyDeleteXoXo
London