I knew it...

Australia ranked world number one for sinning

• Australia ranked 1 for sinning
• South Korea ranked 1 for lust
• United States ranked 1 for gluttony

AUSTRALIANS are the worst sinners in the world, British researchers have decided.

In a study of 35 countries, Australians come up as the most likely to commit one of the biblical seven deadly sins.

http://www.news.com.au/national/australia-ranked-world-number-one-for-sinning/story-e6frfkvr-1225824525361

This doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Why? Because I believe Aussies are way more daring and risky than any other people. It’s in our nature. I see it all the time. I often wonder, when I speak to other authors from different countries, why they worry so much about rules and what people will think. Aussies are plain speaking people who won’t put up with crap and we’ll have a go at anything. That’s our heritage and I’m proud of it.

Sin is good. Try some today. And, if you not an Aussie, do the best you can.

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What if...

So, I bought a new printer. It’s whizz bang multi-function-cook-your-toast-wash-your-clothes marvel. If it made coffee I would give up men forever….or maybe not…anyway, I did a deal with the store – never, ever negotiate with me – you will lose – and I brought it home. My old broken printer is still hooked up to all the computer thingies. I have to de-hook it and stuff. My problem is, what do I do with the old, broken down, will not work printer? Throw it out you say? I come from a long line of women who were/are incapable of throwing anything like this out. What if it could be made into something useful? What if someone can un-break whatever’s broken? What if there are viable parts for the space shuttle within the broken printer? What if I do throw it out and an alien lands and looks at the broken printer with glee and uses the parts to create something that will harm earth?

I’m sure you can see the dilemma I’m in. I believe I’ll put the broken printer under the house in the storeroom. I don’t want to be responsible for alien invaders…at least not until I can think of an alibi. “It’s not my fault the alien landed at my place because….”

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Change it up...

So, people are whining at work about the changes. They want everything to stay the same. These are the same people who admire practiced orators like Barack Obama who sell the dream of change to the masses. Then they eat it up and think what a swell guy he is – yet they fall apart when change happens in reality – to them personality. On a global scale it’s fine ‘cause someone else will be blamed if it screws up. Sell the dream but hell no, don’t make it a reality. I don’t get that logic. Maybe as an ex-army brat, who grew up with change, I have no issue with it. I don’t know. Maybe it’s a personality thing. Maybe some people are scared of life. If that happens I say scare life back.

I’ve made some massive changes this year – personally – nope, not telling you but they’re very nice changes and professionally I’ve done okay. I decided to harness the inner slut and write some raunchy Penn Halligan books. She’s doing quite nicely too. I always suspected I had the heart of a trollop.

Change? Is good. Don’t wait for the Hollywood dream version of change. Get on with your own.

ANDY WARHOL ~ They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.

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Sex...

In, out, over, under, down, up, pant, moan, groan, ohh…ahh…oh god…yes, yes, yes…harder, faster, slower…condom…no condom, suck, swallow, spit…come, fake, faint…do you think next door heard us? Yes? Excellent….lordy, it’s hard to write sex sometimes. I was talking to a friend and she mentioned there were 64 sexual positions. I said most people would be flat out doing 4 or 5. Are we non adventurous or do we just know what we like? And 64? Who actually counts? I believe if you’re counting you’re doing it wrong.

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The far queue….

So, I decided to write a book under a different name – in fact a whole genre in the name Penn Halligan. Why? Many reasons. It could have been because a jumped up tinpot, shonky little twerp who’s pissed I’m not playing by the rules indicated I couldn’t. It could be that I wanted to do something different. Something hotter. Wilder. Forbidden. Taboo. Hence Penn Halligan. Yeah, she’s still me. Amarinda still exists and I’m still writing Amarinda. I’m just branching out some. Penn is my wilder side. Amarinda is more sedate…no really, I’m very sedate-ish…at times…when I’m in the mood or half asleep…anyway – there’ll be a choice when it comes to reading – madly wild Amarinda or out of control Penn.

Anyway, my alter ego Penn picked up a contract with eXcessia for Sex by Numbers. It’s about one woman and six men – possible? Oh yes…

Oh – and to the jumped up tinpot, shonky little twerp – please go directly to the far queue.

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Nothing new under the sun...

So, I got sidetracked watching an Elvis movie – Viva Las Vegas – yes, yes - I should have been doing a gazillion other things on my Sunday arvo but that’s another long, involved story in itself. I love Elvis movies. I love Elvis. He fascinates me. Why? Because I wonder about truly talented people who burn themselves out so young. I believe people, like myself, with no real talent, always wonder about super talented people. They burn bright then fizzle. Untalented people don’t tend to fizzle. We just hang around and annoy the crap out of people. If we had any talent we would have worked the hell out of it. But I digress…

The thing with Elvis movies, as best friend Katie would agree - Elvis aficionado that she is - they require no real thought. Boy meets girl – she thinks he’s a nitwit – he sets out to prove he’s not – she falls in love with him – he screws up somehow – she then hates him – he does something noble - and she thinks ‘well, he’s a bit of all right and I can probably knock some sense into him.’ She marries him. Romance. There’s nothing new under the sun, baby.

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Pondering bullying…

Just recently we had a talk at work about bullying and harassment. It was a good talk and well overdue. It was also about all the do’s and don’ts about internet use and company email and as suspected I’m a big old ‘don’t.’ I like anything that has ‘don’t’ in the sentence ‘cause I instantly want to do it.

But bullying? It sucks. It’s wrong. What fascinates me about the talk we had is that I have found out someone who attended the talk is bullying a subordinate – when I say subordinate I don’t mean a lesser person…I mean someone who is not in a high-faluting position of management….management in itself does not mean people can manage…it just means they won the game of musical chairs and was the last person to put their arse on a seat…a bit like me…I was the last person standing if you like.

Anyway, I am watching a situation that is making my hackles rise and knowing me as well as I do I know I’m going to be jumping into it on Monday and speaking my mind to point out the error of someone’s ways. I expect this won’t go over well and I know it will cause people – men - to be pissed off at me but there it is. Yeah, I could back away but it’s not my nature. I cannot let someone by dragged under by nitwits. Can you?

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Figures….

Today at the Acme Dance Shoe company where I work …

Panic stations…

Executive type person – we don’t have the figures!!!! Why not? We need them or the world will end

Amarinda (who wants an alibi just in case the world ends) – I told you why - you said that was okay to hold off.

Executive - Oh right - yes you did - well can you do them now?

Amarinda – (ok - puke – swear – boring - kick the wall – think evil thoughts about dreary figures) - Yes, if someone can run through how to do them with me (cause they look like Swahili to me and I may fall asleep – hit my head on the desk and not come in to work tomorrow)

Executive – Ask X

X - I'm not sure I don’t do them - Y does

Y - Not me – ask Z

Z - this whole set up is stupid and wrong and no wonder worlds collide and we’re all doomed.

Amarinda (I’ll-give-you-worlds-colliding-why-don’t-I-have-a-bottle-of-wine-at-my- desk?) Great whatever - if I do this and that and swirl the figure around some and make the heading blue and pretty pink and put a cherry on top is that essentially correct?

Z - Well yeah but it's not the fosby-flop sooky-la-la expediential monotone grey and white and anal way we've done it in the past.

Amarinda – Well, fuck it - there’s a new sheriff in town baby and we like colour. Colour confuses and hides stuff. We like that.

Z – you’ll go to hell

Amarinda – more than likely

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Chapter 2 material….

I started yesterday with a man, in all seriousness, telling me about his left testicle. I stood there thinking two things – first – there’s only one pair of testicles I’m currently interested in and they’re not his and secondly – why tell me? The rest of the day went on in the same vein from there ending with an email from a Monty Pythonesque company, I used to work for, suggesting I pay them money for something they can’t get right. From testicles to arseholes…but, as a friend said ‘write it all in chapter 2…’

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Book him...

So there I was reading personal emails at work…in my break of course…I swear…a lot…and a male friend wrote this email that made me narrow my eyes and think evil, hormonal thoughts about how dumb arsed and insensitive men can be. I banged off an email back at him…fumed some and then sent him another…then swore off men forever…again. Then I wrote exactly what he had said in my latest work in progress, that may have been conveniently on my work desktop, about how his words made me feel because I wanted my hero to say something dumb like that to my heroine so she could bounce him across the room in her response. Watch what emotions you stir in a writer. You may just find yourself in Chapter 2.
***********************
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You’ll never be as good….

…those were the words someone recently used in an email to me. I won’t go into the whole thing but basically the sender was peeved that I would not bow down to what they considered law. Well no. I’m an Aussie. We’re big on the principle that not only is Jack as good as his master but most times he could kick his master’s arse from here to next Tuesday. And how dare someone declare in a threatening tone that “You will fail.” Oh fuck off. I will not. And what sort of jumped up toss-pot thinks they can intimidate anyone? And by email? So scared…not.

I find those who threaten you with failure are often scared of life so how can you be scared of them? And wishing failure on someone because it’s the company line? Get out of the company and make your own decisions. Mouthpieces are usually full of spit and get thrown out.

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So what the hell...

…I decided to throw caution to the wind and take a slightly different track in my life. An experiment, if you will. If it pans out – I’ll tell you. If it doesn’t – then I’ll probably still tell you. It’s not like failure can kill you.

So why this leap of faith into a new and unknown realm? It was a WTF moment in the middle of a ‘well hell, I can do that' session. So I took a punt and tackled a project and now I await the results. I’m in two minds about it. If it succeeds then it will be more work for me. If I fall on my arse well, that’s okay – it’s not like I haven’t done that before. So, stayed tuned.

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Life is messy...

...and complicated...hoping you are not the same.

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The inbox…

Dear friend,

I have a project I want you to run with us.
It involves exportation of 35,000 barrels of oil daily from Kirkuk, Iraq.
If you are interested, email me via:mr.xxx@XXXX.com

Mr Yan.

I emailed back – ‘cause I like to do stuff like that. “Does this mean I will get free petrol for Patrick, my car?” No response yet. I’ll let you know.

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Mysterious ways...

THE full-scale of the human tragedy in the Haiti earthquake is set to worsen as a lack of rescue equipment and medicine leaves emergency crews struggling to cope.
There were no signs of organised operations to rescue the thousands trapped in debris or remove bodies from the streets of the capital Port-au-Prince, Reuters reported.

Haitian Red Cross spokesman Pericles Jean-Baptiste said his organisation - used to dealing with disaster in a country dogged by poverty and natural disasters - was overwhelmed and out of medicine.

"There are too many people who need help ... we lack equipment, we lack body bags," he said.

http://www.news.com.au/world/haiti-quake-horror-as-over-100000-feared-dead/story-e6frfkyi-1225819054957

Right - I'll ask...if god moves in mysterious ways…what was the point of this?

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Met up with...

…my editor at swish hotel in Brisbane city. I had a great time and was most pleased to have my theory about working girls/escorts proved correct. The swanky hotel had security cards you put in the elevators to go up to the rooms. My editor said you need the card to get downstairs and I said no – ‘cause a working girl/escort would need to leave discreetly without her customer having to get out of bed and follow her down to the foyer. We tested the theory – and no, you don’t need the security card to get down to the foyer. And no, we didn’t see any working girls/escorts as far as we know. And no, you probably don’t care but I like to ponder stuff like this. I can’t imagine conducting business without a simple escape plan. *********************************
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Artificial sex…

ROXXXY the sex robot had a coming-out party in Sin City.
In what is billed as a world first, a life-size robotic girlfriend complete with artificial intelligence and flesh-like synthetic skin was introduced to adoring fans at the AVN Adult Entertainment Expo in Las Vegas.
"She can't vacuum, she can't cook but she can do almost anything else if you know what I mean," TrueCompanion's Douglas Hines said.
"She's a companion. She has a personality. She hears you. She listens to you. She speaks. She feels your touch. She goes to sleep. We are trying to replicate a personality of a person."
Roxxxy stands 170cm (five feet, seven inches) tall, weighs 54.43kg (120lbs), "has a full C cup and is ready for action," according to Mr Hines, who was an artificial intelligence engineer at Bell Labs before starting TrueCompanion.

http://www.news.com.au/technology/worlds-first-life-size-robotic-girlfriend/story-e6frfro0-1225817805297

What? Seriously? “She feels your touch”??? Well, I reckon if you pay $7000 to $9000 (USD) for this piece of crap you have been touched in the head. Are some people playing with themselves or what? Plastic does not beat skin. Replicated personality inserts do not replace passion, reaction and feeling. And “a full c cup”? If you cannot love a real person for the less than perfect body they have then that’s just damn sad and maybe a robot is your best companion.

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Stupidity and avarice…

I work with money every day. That’s my job. I manage money. I’m good at it. Ever since I was a kid I understood the power and responsibility of money.

What I don’t understand are people/companies who through stupidity and avarice take the money others have earned and mismanage it to the point where no one knows what the fuck is happening with it. Their response to ‘where the bloody hell is my money’ is no response. It’s the head in the sand approach. ‘If we pretend we can’t see or hear then it’s not our fault.’ In a world where we can tag emails with delivery and read receipts, this approach is naïve and plain dumb. Own up to what you have stuffed up.

Here’s what I believe, if you cannot manage money then don’t. Pay someone who can. If the temptation of using someone else’s money on frivolous crap or to prop yourself up on the vague hope you will trade your way out of trouble is wrong. Honestly and integrity are simple concepts but amazingly they have worked for centuries and they invoke trust. When you lose trust in a business you never regain it.

In business and can’t manage money? Well stay the fuck away from it. It’s a pretty simple concept.

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The body okay…

…not the body beautiful but the body okay. I mention this as it was once more reinforced to me that it matters not what you look like – if you are fat or thin or tall or short or in Anny Cook’s case a blue person. Of course I always knew this…not the blue person thing until I came across Anny…but I always knew outward appearance was just the shell of a person. I personally, have a short, chunky shell…

...but, I digress…it was reinforced to me when I was at the beach in Port Douglas. There was no one on that beach – Aussie or non Aussie - who was the body beautiful. Not a soul. Maybe it was the fact that Australian beaches, and Port Douglas in particular, are very relaxed and casual.

Maybe it’s more our own perception of how we think we should look. Maybe we should all stop and think and look at those around us. Everyone is flawed. Maybe we should believe those who love us and tell us in a touch or a look they love us for who we are.

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Home from the sea…

....swam, walked, shopped, ate too much…walked some more to work it off…swam some more, got a tatt, met up with a dear, sweet, aggravating, sexy friend, trekked through the rainforest, hung out at the Wicked Ice Cream bar and internet shop in Port Douglas and brought home what appears to be a suitcase full of sand…please may I do it again?

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The Jones girl…

“I Don’t Think So” is a phrase I say a lot. It’s like “Because I Can”. Why not make it the title of a book? Actually I am thinking of having a curlicue ‘because I can' tattooed on my arm…hmmm…anyway, “I Don’t Think So” is a series about warlocks. It’s out now at Ellora’s Cave.

The blurb…

When dashing warlock Thomas Darcy suddenly appears in Mariette Jane’s home announcing he needs her help, she knows he is lying. She is a facilitator between worlds. She is used to supernatural beings seeking her aid. But this man is different. His story does not ring true. So what’s going on and why is she suddenly having hot, delicious sex with the suckable warlock?

Thomas is lying. He has been sent to subdue Mariette Jane but he’s not sure why. He was only told of her threat to all warlock kind. But it’s hard to subdue someone you want to have lick all over and slide inside. The more he is with Mariette, the deeper Thomas becomes involved. Saving her beautiful ass becomes his prime objective.

The excerpt…

God no, she looked anything but perky and Thomas Darcy was quite amazed. This was not the woman he expected to see. His research indicated someone completely different from the redhead who was so pissed off by a simple advertisement. Mariette Jane was supposed to work between worlds as a troubleshooter. This woman looked more like she would make trouble and enjoy it. “Have I got the right address?” Thomas had expected a soulful, deep thinker unfazed by life. But no, he got a short, curvaceous redhead wearing fire-engine-red sleep shorts and a tight, back singlet top with a skull positioned over large breasts.

“Why do you ask? Don’t I look like a facilitator between worlds?” She handed the magazine back to him.

“No.” And I cannot believe I have been sent here to deal with you. Had there been a mix-up? “You’re in your pajamas and it’s ten o’clock.”

Mariette’s hands went to her hips in defiance. “Well, I didn’t have time to dress for this unexpected meeting. You just showed up. Besides, I like to ease my way out of my pjs. Rushing stuff gives me a headache.”

Thomas almost smiled. She was kind of cute in an offbeat quirky way.

“So what’s your story tall, dark and I guess relatively-handsome-if-the- lights-were-turned-off-and-alcohol-was-involved?”

“You’re impossible.” They couldn’t have got this assignment right. They wanted him to kill her? How was she a danger? The only weapon she had was her mouth.

“And you’re not the first person to tell me that, warlock.”

That took Thomas aback. He had dressed deliberately casually in order to not look like a threat. “How do you know I’m a warlock?”

Mariette blew out a sigh. “Tall, pissy, arrogant attitude and your hair is a dead giveaway.” She waved her hands at him. “It’s long and floppy around your shoulders."

Floppy? All warlocks had long hair. It was their trademark. No one had ever called it “floppy” before. It pissed him off somewhat. Most women found his hair sexy especially as it caressed their naked skin. Thomas brushed a strand of hair from his face. What would she look like naked? He had the overwhelming urge to find out. “You’re a piece of work.” He had never met a woman like this one. Thomas was intrigued.

“Thank you.”

“It’s not a compliment.”

Mariette shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever. What’s the deal?”

At this point Thomas knew he had no choice. He had a job to do and this woman was the reason he was there. “I broke an oath.” Thomas had his story all planned out. It was designed to lure the woman in and then when she was vulnerable, crush her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Was the warlock, Cypher, correct in his intelligence? This woman? Seriously? She could be the downfall of all warlocks with the knowledge she possessed?

“I break my diet every second day.”

The cocky grin she gave him made his cock twitch. There was something about this woman that was annoying yet attractive. Just my type. Thomas liked smart ass women. You never knew what they would do next and that kept things interesting. He shifted his stance to lessen the growing pressure between his legs. And stop looking at her breasts, man. Though her tight top made that almost impossible. “An oath is important.” He had never broken one in his life but he had to make her believe he had.

“So is fitting into my jeans.”

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Presenting Penn Halligan...

Penn Halligan here. I’m a new kid on the writing block. I write about sex. I enjoy it…both the writing and the sex. My stories are a little more daring than most. I like to make my fantasies reality. I hold nothing back. Condoms in a book? Maybe. Multiple partners? Oh yeah. Lots of hard male flesh ready to be licked and sucked? Definitely. Regrets? Never.

Here’s a quick glimpse from my latest project. It's all about one woman and what she can do in 48 hours. It’s a little rough and raw around the edges but there’s nothing wrong with that now is there?

***********************************

Autumn Shaw’s tongue licked a long, slow path down the hard cock of the man lying on the bed. Her hand cupped David’s balls as she slid her mouth up and down the sides of the thick shaft. There was nothing Autumn liked better than sucking cock. It gave her a wild sense of power knowing her lover was completely helpless under her mouth and fingers. She sighed as she felt his hands kneading her ass.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?” Autumn leaned in making sure her bare nipples grazed the flesh of David’s upper thigh.
“It’s hard to concentrate when you do that.”
“I know. That’s why I do it.” She smiled against his wet flesh.
David reached up and caressed her breasts. “I have a birthday present for you.”
Autumn licked her lips and fisted his cock. “I like this one.” As birthday presents went, she was more than satisfied with hot cock.
“It’s all yours any time you want baby but I got you something that you crave.”
“More than you?” She rubbed her hand back and forward down his shaft. She knew how to work it so David would beg her to bury his cock between her thighs for relief.
“It’s something a little different.” His hand caught her. “What’s your greatest fantasy?”
“To eat my body weight in chocolate.”
David’s free hand slapped her ass. “No, think of something hot and hard that makes you wet with need.”
“You covered in chocolate?” She would lick him so slowly, savoring every moment.
“That would be fun but think about the one thing you have never tried but always wanted to. Something you told me was ‘wild and bad’ but if you got the chance you would do it.”
Autumn sat back on her heels, her thighs spread, pussy wet and ready for entry. “I don’t know.” There were so many things she wanted to do in life. So many fantasies to fulfill.
“Yeah, you do.”
She looked at her lover’s face. His clear blue eyes were full of meaning. David knew her like no other. They had shared every sexual fantasy. There was nothing they held back. A slow, sweet smile lit up his face. It was then Autumn knew what he meant. “Oh…” A wild shiver ran thought her body.
“Oh?” David’s lips twitched in amusement.
“But that’s just a crazy fantasy, David.” Autumn was in a committed relationship. She loved David. No one gave their lover a present like that.
“I’m making your dreams a reality.”
Autumn’s eyes were wide with shock. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to have sex with other men?” The thought of multiple cocks teasing her body made her face red and her body sweat.
“It’s what you crave.”
Stranger sex. “Yes, but —“

~ Copyright Penn Halligan 2010 ~

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Presenting Anny Cook....

Carnal Camelot by Anny Cook is out now. It’s two hotter than hell books in one. Click on the cover to buy…

The Blurb…

When Florian LeFleur’s wife runs away with an acrobatic troupe, leaving him with three marriageable daughters, he resolves to take them to Came-a-lot in search of husbands. Honeysuckle, his middle daughter, resigns herself to settling for just one man, though in her heart she longs to find two special men who will make mad passionate love to her for the rest of their days.

The first night at the inn, Honey encounters the hunkalicious Hieney twins, Peter and Dick, who claim her immediately and announce their intention to marry her at the first opportunity. Their plans are delayed as they deal with a coup attempt against King Arthur, are abducted by a wicked sorceress, experience wild poison-induced passion in a cave and meet a sexy well-endowed unicorn.

Honeysuckle – the excerpt

The next morning when Susan handed out the daily assignments, Honeysuckle was faintly uneasy when informed that she would be cleaning the Hunting Knight guesthouse. The other maids all looked at each other with sly glances and promptly began to giggle. That didn’t reassure her at all but she gathered the necessary supplies and set off across the Queen’s Garden in search of the guesthouse. Susan’s directions had been sketchy to say the least.

By the time she battled her way past knee-high weeds and thorny brambles, she was hot, dirty and annoyed. Who was in charge of this disaster of a garden, anyway? She reached the far side of the garden and approached the Hunting Knight guesthouse cautiously. While she loved the thrill and pleasure of fucking two—or three—men, she was actually quite picky about whom she shared her body with. Her impromptu bathtub party with the Hieney brothers was the first time she had ever been with total strangers. And she was determined it would be the last time she was caught so unaware. She didn’t want to walk into an ambush like the ones she’d avoided in the castle so far.

First she walked around the guesthouse, noting the positions of doors and windows. Then she approached the back door with her basket of cleaning supplies, still uneasy but unable to put her finger on what was causing her unsettled feelings. The door swung open under her light touch and she stepped into a huge sunny kitchen. It was a huge sunny spotless kitchen.
Immediately she stopped and surveyed her surroundings. Either no one used the kitchen or a maid had already been here to clean the guesthouse. In which case, what was she doing here? Honey deposited her basket on the table and tiptoed to the door to peek down the hall. It appeared that no one was at home. And yet the silence didn’t have the same quality that an empty house had. Someone was waiting…for her.

With a resigned sigh, she crept down the hall. Then anger rose within her. Whoever waited for her at the other end was in for a surprise. Nothing pissed her off more than being stalked like prey. Raulf might be an asshole butler but he’d been determined that the sisters would never have to submit to a man unless that was their choice and he spent hours training them accordingly. Let the games begin.

She passed the game room and Peter stepped out into the hall, positioned perfectly for her attack. One sharp chop to the base of the skull and he slithered toward the floor. She spun him toward her and folded his slack body over her shoulder. As quietly as possible, she carted him into the game room and dumped him on the billiard table. Then she assumed his previous position next to the door and patiently waited for Dick to arrive. While she waited her anger heated to a towering rage as she thought of their planned ambush.

In the guest hall, Dick heard a faint thud and then silence stretched out unbearably. Something was not right. Exiting the guest hall through the wide garden doors, he circled the house until he reached the kitchen door. Silently he entered, noting the basket of cleaning supplies on the table. Then with an annoyed shake of his head, he stalked down the hall toward the game room. Obviously Peter was starting without him.

When he trotted through the door and saw Peter stretched out on the billiard table, Dick knew he’d made a stupid strategic error. That was his last thought for a while as Honey brought the handle end of a cue stick down on his unprotected head.

When Dick woke, he and Peter were cuffed back-to-back with two pairs of lovely padded cuffs Honey had located in one of the cupboards. Unfortunately, they weren’t the quick-release cuffs. It wasn’t called the game room just because you could play billiards in it. As a matter of fact, while heaving Peter onto the table Honeysuckle had immediately suspected that the billiard table was seldom used to actually play billiards.

Blearily Dick noted that their ankles were tied together with soft bindings.
And they were naked.

Valiantly ignoring his pounding head, Dick observed the ripped bits and pieces of clothing strewn about the room on his side of the billiard table. Honeysuckle had been a busy, busy girl. His nipples pinched and pulsed. He craned his neck until he could see his chest. Tiny silver nipple rings pierced each nipple. Farther down, his cock jutted out from his body hard as a rock. He would have cursed but a ball gag was stuffed in his mouth.

Oh, yeah. Honey had been a busy naughty girl.

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Presenting Aurora Black....

Looking for a great holiday read? Try Aurora Black – Potent Spirits. Click on the cover to buy.

The blurb...

The legendary story of "A Christmas Carol" has never been seen like this!

Quiet and shy Vivian Woods is in love with the devastatingly handsome Caleb Blackwell, a sexy fireman who sets her heart ablaze every night in her dreams, but she's convinced that he doesn't know she exists. She plans to spend another lonely Christmas at home, with thoughts of her secret love to keep warm. Someone has other plans.

With the help of three hunky spirits, Vivian takes the most erotic and revealing journey of her life. Their sizzling touches on her skin teach her about the passionate, strong woman she really is inside... and a special someone's true feelings. 'Tis the season to make love.

The excerpt...

Her lower lip trembled from the lunacy of it all. "What do you want from me?"

His eyes were tender as he held out his hand for her to take.

"All I want is to take away the pain. Come with me."

She could almost feel her mother's presence beside her again, encouraging her.

*Go on, honey. Take a chance. Be happy. Live free and open your heart to love.*

Vivian placed a trembling hand in his own, and he gently lifted it to his lips. "You won't regret this," he murmured against her shivering skin. She remained silent as he wrapped his arm around her, leading her to the window. "Look outside, Vivian. What do you see?"

Her dark brown eyes darted over the scene below as she licked her dry lips.

"I see other apartment buildings, cars on the busy streets, falling snow."

The spirit dropped his arm from her shoulders and stepped behind her, his eyes drinking in her beauty. He tenderly stroked her hair as she faced the window. With one hand he brushed away some of her wayward curls, leaning forward to graze his sensual lips against the sensitive nape of her neck.

His breath was warm against her ear, and her eyes fell shut from the sensation.

"Do you know what I see down there? I see people who have purpose in their lives, people who love and are loved in return. I see them racing through the icy wind and snow to get home, back to the warmth of their houses and the company of their loved ones."

His hands trailed down her sides to cradle her hips, pulling her to him. She could feel him growing hard against her ass, and instinctively she pressed back. He let out a soft grunt, his breathing heavy as he slid his hands beneath her pajama top to cup her breasts. His husky voice seduced her as he resumed speaking.

"I can feel the grief and loneliness that you carry in your breast, Vivian. Such a heavy burden for a woman such as you. I sense that you've been burned badly in the past, and as a result you've abandoned your dreams and resigned yourself to the life of a hermit. It's not too late to set things right."

She reached behind her and traced his powerful thighs with her fingernails, entranced by the cords of muscle that quivered beneath her touch. He gave a wordless murmur of encouragement as his fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of her shirt and slid it off, exposing her breasts to the night's chill. His calloused hands covered her aching nipples, and she whimpered in pleasure.

Vivian leaned forward and rested her forehead against the frosty glass as her earlier apprehension was replaced by lust for her visitor. Her breath came in pants, fogging the glass even further. With a great deal of effort, she managed to speak.

"I...I don't usually do this with men I don't know..."

His laughter was deep and rich as he gently pushed down her pajama bottoms and motioned for her to step out of them. She wore only a pair of lacy panties, but she wasn't cold. On the contrary, she was downright hot.

The spirit embraced her from behind, his chest flush against her back as he cupped her mound through the thin barrier of lace. "If you must attach a name to me, call me Tobias. That was my name in life."

She turned her head to the side. "What are your plans for me, Tobias?"

His soulful green eyes flashed in the darkness, his lips close to hers.

"I'll show you, if you'll allow me."

***************************************************
Aurora Black
Dark, Passionate & Evil Erotica
(and the occasional sweet romance)
http://www.whoisaurorablack.com

Presenting Sandra Cox….

Odin Cats by Sandra Cox is out now at Whiskey Creek Press. Click on the cover to buy….

The old cat shook his head, his whiskers twitching. “You are brave, kind and intelligent but you lack patience and humility.”

With a twitch of his plumy tail, Seth stalked off. “Sppt, patience is for the old and humility is for those not born to royalty.”

Green eyes glowing, the soothsayer said, “I wish I could learn these lessons for you, but I cannot. It’s a journey you must make alone. It will be painful in the extreme. But know this. You will survive. And your story will be told around the campfires of both soldier and peasant cats alike. The name of Sittchuk-Seth will ride the wind and be carried to the farthest corners of the kingdom.” As Furrlin spoke, his shadow filled the room, his jeweled eyes mesmerized and his voice beckoned like that of a siren’s. It echoed and reechoed about the room. Colors flashed from his sharp talons.

Seth could feel his pupils dilate and his breath come in short sharp pants as he watched his mentor. The nerves beneath his skin tightened. A quiver, like a stroke over fur, ran along his spine. Though, they’d been together for years, seldom did he see the old soothsayer’s magic.

Then the shadow and colors dissipated, the voice no longer boomed and the glowing green eyes dimmed to that of an old cat with the beginnings of cataracts.

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Presenting Berengaria Brown...

Hi, my name is Berengaria Brown and I’m an aspiring author. A wanna-be writer. A slush-pile submitter.

I am the “before” picture and desperately hoping, wishing and working toward becoming the “after” picture – a published author.

I love to read romance. I read several books every week, sometimes as many as five full novels in a week. And, like so many other not-yet-published authors I see things that I believe I could have written/expressed/plotted more dramatically/more clearly/or just plain better.

But....and this is the clincher...somewhere an editor with many years of experience in the industry felt that these other authors have produced an exciting saleable volume, so they are published and I am still sitting in the slushpile with my fingers crossed hoping that soon an editor will dig me out, dust me off, polish me and make me a bright shiny new published author.

I am beyond thrilled to be visiting with Amarinda Jones today. She is an awesome author. The first book of hers I read (and I think I’ve read almost all her books) was Because I Can. I fell in love with Miranda and Justin in the first chapter, laughed and gasped my way through the book and the ending is absolutely brilliant.

I'm just about ready to submit an erotic-ménage-ghost story. Here's a sneak peek...(obviously unedited but still copyright to me!) I hope you like it.

Warning - this is a very adult excerpt.

“You look very sexy in that outfit,’ said Amos, sliding along the bench and sitting on her right.
“But I reckon you’d look even better out of it,” added Wesley, sitting on her left.
“Nice line, guys, but my pudgy body would look better covered completely by clothing, whereas you both look totally delicious with your chests bare. Although I do think Speedos would look better on you than board shorts,” she added naughtily.
“Yeah but where would I put the condoms?” asked Amos pulling a handful out of the pocket of his board shorts.
“Here? You want to fuck here in a public swimming pool?” she gasped.
“It’s not public, it’s private. Besides the man doing laps has gone and the two in the weights room are too far away to see or hear anything we do,” added Wesley.
“We’ll buy you a bikini before next time though,” added Amos.
“Bikini? Me? No way?” protested Keziah, only to have her protests cut short as the men, pulled the straps of her swimsuit down and two heads, one golden, one brown, bent to suck her nipples.
“Oh that feels so good,” she murmured holding their heads to her chest.
Before she could relax, and while two tongues still played with her nipples, male hands were pulling the swimsuit right off her and leaving it to sink to the bottom of the hot tub.
“Hey wait—“
“Sshh, we’ll get it before we go,” murmured Amos, lifting her legs up onto the bench while Wesley held her shoulders and continued kissing her breasts.
Both men donned condoms, then Wesley pulled her up with her back against his chest and nestled his cock between her butt cheeks. His hands continued to play with her breasts and his lips roamed along her neck, her shoulders and even sucked her ear lobes from time to time.
Every now and then he casually thrust up with his cock into her butt crack.
Meanwhile Amos sat with her legs on his knee, kissing and sucking her toes, playing with her feet, kissing the tender spot behind her knees and gradually working his way up toward her cunt. A cunt that was already dripping cream and hungering for their cocks.

~ Copyright Berengaria Brown 2010 ~

Want to know more about me?

My blog -http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/

I'm also on facebook -
http://www.facebook.com/people/Berengaria-Brown/100000055736290

Mad urges…

…I love ‘em. I follow ‘em. A couple of weeks ago I was outside chopping, hacking and slashing in the garden. I was sweaty and hot and bleeding from various cuts to my hands and I thought to myself…“I need a holiday.” I’ve been a bit run down of late – okay, a lot if blood tests are anything to go by – so I’m hauling my fat arse off to Port Douglas, tropical north Queensland, tomorrow in an attempt to relax. Relax? Oh please – there’s four mile beach to walk back and forward, the rainforest of the Daintree to hike, adventure trails to take, intensive shopping…who has time to relax?

In the meantime the blog will not be empty. I have a bunch of talented guests lined up for the week...so check 'em out.

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I resolve...

…to be more daring and shocking and out there in 2010. I resolve not to give a rat’s behind when it comes to consequence but instead just do what the hell I want and worry about what happens later. I’m so looking forward to it…

“Oh, Miss West, I've heard so much about you.

Mae West: Yeah, honey, but you can't prove a thing.” ~ Mae West

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Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Happy 2010

Happy 2010. You deserve the best so take it.

www.amarindajones.com
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Be daring...read an Amarinda book