My Last Dark Day

Six things you need to know about author Barbara Huffert
1. What is your star sign?
Leo
2. Favourite colour?
Pink
3. Favourite food?
Toss up between Ben & Jerry's ice cream, chocolate and black olives
4. Favourite person?
Future doctor, Courtney Schilling who very well may save the world one day
5. Favourite movie?
This alternates between Hudson Hawk and So I Married an Axe Murderer
6. If I could change one thing in the world it would be....
The overall lack of kindness people show each other.

From this we know the following - Barbara is a pussycat unless pushed, she has a strong sensual side, she believes in fine dining and she has an excellent sense of humour. And yes, let’s all try and do the kindness thing occasionally. My understanding is it won’t kill us.
My Last Dark Day is released Monday 8th on www.total-e-bound.com/. It is hot, hot and hot. Take a squiz at the excerpt below and then grab the fantastic plastic and buy the book. You will not regret it. Am I buying? Hell yes. I want it on the blurb alone

My Last Dark Day – The Blurb

Things are often not as they first appear…
What’s a woman to do when faced with yet another in a never-ending cycle of anniversaries guaranteed to ruin her day?
Step one, respond when contacted on-line by a friendly couple.
Step two, accept the wife’s claim of the husband’s empathic sensitivities as fact.
Step three, go along quietly when the husband miraculously comes to the rescue just when he’s needed most.
Step four, have the courage to put complete control in his more than capable hands.
Step five, don’t think. Go with the flow. Be open to all possibilities. Relax and enjoy.
Step six, repeat frequently.

***Warning the following excerpt is very much adult

“Stop thinking. Concentrate on your body instead.” One hand returned to my bare pussy, petting, rubbing, stroking. “You’re aroused. Look at your nipples,” he paused until I did, seeing the truth in their puckered state. “Your pussy is already wet just from that little bit of attention. It wants more. You want more. I’m here, hon. I know what you need. And I will give it to you. Oh yeah, I can give you exactly what you need. I can help you. I want to help you. I can make you feel what you’ve been missing all these years. I know how.” His thumb traced my slit but didn’t part it. “But not until you say it. Not until you tell me this is what you want. Not unless you ask me to help you.” A fraction deeper but no where near deep enough. I moaned. “It’s up to you. You have to say it or nothing more will happen tonight. You have to tell me you’re putting yourself in my hands, that you want me to teach you how to find pleasure.” The movement ceased, his palm resting on my mound, poised to continue if I actually found the courage to do what we both knew I desired.
“Please,” I said in a small voice.
“Please what?”
“Please. P-please help me. Show me what it’s like,” I pleaded. I waited but he didn’t respond. He merely stared with one eyebrow raised, silently demanding that I continue. “Please teach me to feel. Teach me about pleasure and passion. Do whatever it takes so I can finally get it. Give me what I need. Please help me. Oh please,” I practically sobbed.
“You’re sure? You’re turning yourself over to me willingly, knowing that if you do, I will be intimately acquainted with your entire body by the time we’re finished here?”
“Yes, I understand all that. Yes, I’m giving myself to you completely,” I said, hearing myself, wanting what I was asking for yet not quite believing I was about to do what I was about to do. “I’m putting myself in your hands because, I trust you to take care of me.”
His expression was pure satisfaction. I responded correctly and he was pleased. Until then, I hadn’t realised how important that had become, but apparently it was. Very much so. And, my actually having done so made me feel proud of myself. So proud I would have giggled with glee had he not chosen that second to curl his fingers, cupping my mound firmly. I gasped, my eyes blinking between his hand and his face.
“Flat on your back now,” he said. “You’ll be able to feel what I’m doing so there’s no need to watch.”
I hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at his wife. For a moment, I let myself get so caught up in everything that I all but forgot she was there, that she even existed at all. Now that I was on the brink of having sex with her husband I was suddenly panicked at what she must think of me. Surely, she thought me a real tramp, a total slut, begging for it, offering myself up for anything and everything right in front of her.
“I told you to stop thinking,” he snapped. “If you want my attention then keep yours on me.”
“But,” I sputtered nervously.
“Tell her, girl,” he spoke to his wife/slave.
“Please don’t back out because of me,” she began, meeting my confused gaze. “I’m fine with whatever happens here. I know he loves me and always will. I also know that it’s in his nature to help others when he can. And I want him to, however he has to. If he didn’t step in, he’d end up hurting and I don’t want that. Please, make us both happy. Let him do this. He needs to, just like you need him to.”
“Okay,” I finally said, stretching out as instructed.
I could practically feel the emotionally charged atmosphere swirling around us while I waited for him to do something. It seemed like forever before his hand flexed ever so slightly. The pressure increased. He rubbed his palm over me as he had before only now his thumb was extended, stroking my slit with every pass. I struggled not to move. I bit my lip to hold in my moans.
He suddenly gripped me so hard it bordered on pain. “Do not ever hold back with me.” He squeezed tighter. “Never, do you understand?”
“Yes,” I squeaked.
One more pulse for emphasis. “Good girl. I need to see all your reactions or I won’t be able to do what’s best for you.” I took a deep breath and nodded, forcing my body to relax as much as I could. “Very good,” he acknowledged my effort.
His vice-like hand unclenched and his caresses resumed. Again, I waited breathlessly. I moaned. Eventually, my hips began to lift, seeking more. He no longer needed to hold my thighs apart. I had them spread wide open, as far as possible yet I could still feel myself trying to stretch even further. When his thumb finally dipped between my outer lips, I cried out in surprised even though it had been inevitable. My back arched, pushing more of my flesh around the intruder.
He chuckled, teasing me mercilessly. The tip of his thumb parted my folds over and over again while the rest of his hand continued to knead my freshly shorn skin. My moans became needy whimpers. What little of my mind that remained functional was in awe. He was barely touching me and already had me feeling more than in the past. I was about ready to beg and he knew it. He knew exactly what he was doing to me and clearly enjoyed it. I couldn’t make out his mumbled words, but I didn’t need to in order to hear the amusement that laced his tone. Good thing I heard the encouragement he offered too, or I would have been thoroughly embarrassed for making such a spectacle of myself at this early stage. I may have been almost lost but the one thought that did manage to penetrate the fog clouding my brain was how severely lacking my former partners had been. All this time I believed it was me. And in a way it was, just not the way I had thought. No, my deficiency wasn’t physical. It was my inability to select anyone capable of coaxing this sort of reaction from my severely deprived body.

http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?s=2p9hy229458&strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=169

Click on the cover and buy the book

Check out Anny's words of wisdom on www.annycook.blogspot.com - then check out what quote of the week Kelly has for us on www.kkirch.blogspot.com. Wisdom abounds....

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/

Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?