I miss men. I miss the rich baritone of their voices, the sturdy brace of their chest and shoulders, the subtle salt of their skin. Men with their sardonic grins and cocked eyebrows, men with their wide smiles and bristled cheeks, their amused expressions. Their innocence in need they can’t quite acknowledge and yet it is there, written on their faces like the eager gleam in a boy’s eyes as he surveys a display of candy.

I miss the strength of men, their physical power to lift heavy slabs of firewood or slam a splitting maul into a length of oak. Men have an energy that warms me as they stride across the ground, as they wrestle an unruly tire onto the axle. Men can do things with their bodies that I cannot, and the difference thrills me.

I miss the force of their sexuality, their straightforward desire to sink into the wet depths of a woman’s body, their unbridled pleasure in fucking. I miss the heat of their soft skin, the roughness of their hands, the smoothness of muscle bunched at their shoulders and across their chests.

At 73, I don’t expect ever again to luxuriate in a man’s bed. I am bereft of the joy of lovemaking, grief-stricken that the wondrous beauty of his private anatomy will no longer be mine to admire or touch or lick. I miss the lovely sight of male buttocks, tight and round, flexing as he walks.

I miss those extended moments of mindless bliss that only a man can give me.

Men in general exert a calming influence on me, steady and solid, a familiar and reliable part of my life. Only lately have I noticed how many of those men are no longer here for me – two husbands, the plumber and electrician I counted on for years, the repairman. Even in cultivating working relationships with a new electrician, a new repairman, I miss the foundational presence of those who came before.

Much as I have sought independence and self-reliance through the years of my life, I have always recognized that men can do things I can’t. I treasure the skill and experience of men who know their trades, how to cut in a straight line with a paintbrush, how to change a light fixture, how to replace a broken pipe. I appreciate men seated in their heavy equipment, a backhoe leveling ground at my barn door, a bulldozer carving a new pond, a bucket truck where, lifted high above the ground, he cuts through massive trees limbs like butter and safely lowers them to the ground.

I miss the other half of my existence.

House of Rae

After sharing those personal thoughts with you, I will explain that this is why I read and write romance. For a time, immersed in a story, I am with a man. This is also why I conceived of a place and future time when women can go to a place and be with a man. That’s what the House of Rae series is all about.

Set in the mid-21st century when climate change has pushed world societies to unexpected extremes, the Houses of Rae stand as islands of refuge, peaceful centers of women’s pleasure. Now franchised around the world, the House becomes a staging ground for the fight between overweening patriarchy and women’s freedom, but also between progressive and reactionary forces amid food shortages, endless fire, and the joy and enlightenment gained through sexual adventuring. These four novels reveal the intimate stories of people willing to break the rules and put them back together in a style more suitable for a new age.

Come meet the men at the House of Rae.

Click on the covers to learn more about the stories!

UPDATE: The winners are…Katherine Horvath and Peggy Fowler!
*~*~*

I like dancers. Those beautiful movements, the expressions, the costumes, the emotion, and yes, the bodies, too. Like any art form, dance is a way of communicating. A story is told, and I love stories. I wrote three fantasy novels about three dancing half-sisters and how they lived in a city full of scoundrels, wizards, and monsters.

There was a time, about fifteen years back, when I went to dance performances, mainly belly dancing. That habit bled to death for various reasons (time, a relationship, et cetera). Usually, I went to a festival in which various acts performed. I learned that there are also male belly dancers. And apparently, I have the belly for it!

Once there was a single female performance in the Regentes Theatre in the Dutch city of Den Haag (I’m a Dutchie for those who didn’t know). The theatre is located in an old swimming pool, and it still has a lot of the original 1920s Art Deco elements.

Most people think that belly dancing is a bit of shaking with the belly, pelvis, breasts, and butt, and yes, those elements are there for sure, but of course, it is much more. Belly dancing consists of all kinds of movements and traditions, from various cultures. There is also room for modern dance types from jazz ballet to house. I once saw a Russian dancer do her belly dance to house music, and it was totally worth it.

But back to the performance I witnessed… I sat in the front row, partly for room for my legs, partly to get a good look. There was no partition; the dance floor started immediately. For those of us in the front row, our feet rested on the dance floor.

Dark room, a single spot. A beautiful, tall dark-haired lady entered. Lebanese? Something like that. Melancholic music began, the dance began. Her performance stood for her life story, or the story of her family. After all these years, the details are getting a bit vague. Anyways, that night she combined belly dancing with modern experimental dance.

She was good. Love, marriage, children, quarrels, loneliness, hope, the threat of war and flight, passion…  She brought everything to life, caught in the spotlight that followed her. The audience was carried away, without words, without explanation, just by the enchantment of the music and her dance.

The light was now red in color, the music more challenging, her movements voluptuous. A scene in a nightclub from a strip show? Yes, something like that. Lust. Sex. She wiggled her butt, looked over her shoulders at her audience.

Swallow. Yes. Good art plays with your emotions. Art or pleasure, and she used both to play with us.

Big me, short hair, broad shoulders, a head like a rock. Knife scars running from my right ear to my chin. There I was, sitting in the front row, massive between the frail ladies and wiry gentlemen. Who go to dance performances? Mainly dancers, professional, hobby, former and whatever dancers. A dancing public. I was the very clear exception. I’m not a dancer. I’m a writer.

She looked at me. I looked back, appreciative.

She came over to me with swaying her hips.

Something snorted inside me. It came out like a grin. Nostrils open, muscles tense. Control is nice, but feeling the inner beast is fun, too.

At the last moment, less than half a step away, she turned and sat down.

Her butt on my lap, her legs over mine.

There, trapped together in the spot. Beauty and the Beast. Agility exposed on that massive hump of meat and bones.

She turned, squirmed, she danced while sitting.

I kept my hands at my sides. If it had been just the two of us, I would have grabbed and played with her. But there was an audience, so I didn’t, and she knew I would not. Damn, women aren’t crazy. She knew and enjoyed the power she had.

Me, too. Standing on the edge, just not letting go of the beast… That’s nice, too.

She jumped up again; the lap dance was over. She threw me a kiss, and I returned it with a grin. Like a twisting flame, she turned farther up the floor, on her way to the next part of her life story.

Jump after it! Stamp exaggerated, big gestures, big strides. A troll and a fairy. Do it! She would whirl around me, and I would chase her like a golem.

No, I didn’t. It was her performance. Not mine, I told myself. Besides, I wasn’t that brave. No. I didn’t dare, although deep in my heart I wished I had.

In the end, the performance was over.

I went home happy, melancholy, full of creative energy.

…

Once I went to dance performances.

One day, we’ll go again.

We? Yes. She and I. No, not her, not the dancing lady. Another special lady, but that’s another story.

Contest

Comment for a chance to win a copy of First Response! I’ll choose two winners!

About the Author

Inside First Response, read “Save Me Twice” by Jaap Boekestein – Playing with handcuffs leads to unexpected and sexy consequences for a timid office worker when she loses the key.

Jaap Boekestein is an award-winning Dutch writer of science fiction, fantasy, horror, thrillers, and whatever takes his fancy. He usually writes his stories in the coffeehouses of his native The Hague, the Netherlands. Over the years he has made his living as a bouncer, working for a detective agency, and the Justice Department.

Rawhide: Cut the Cards

It’s a card game like you’ve never played before!
Rawhide is back!

Have you been missing the trips to Rawhide, the ultra-exclusive BDSM club on the northwest side of San Antonio, Texas? Well, it’s time for another trip, and this one has a few twists. First of all, the club has a new Dungeon Master. His name is Reulas, and he runs a strict establishment. Nothing is barred as long as you follow the rules. Secondly, he has sanctioned the introduction of a new card game called “Cut the Cards.” Each card pictures some form of BDSM activity. The sub cuts the cards then draws a certain number. Any cards that picture acceptable activities are set to the side; those that are not are replaced in the deck. After the sub has made her/his choices, then the Mistress or Master makes their choices and…the game is on!

Rawhide: Ace in the Hole

Cut the Cards
Kelly LeBlanc was hot and aroused at being selected as part of a demonstration for Rawhide’s members and guests. A card game for sex? What fun! But then she meets the Dom, Tanner Sloat, and finds all her wildest fantasies are about to come true.

Blackjack
He was everything Nia March ever dreamed about in a Master. As he takes her to levels higher than she’s even been, touching something deep inside her, she wonders if she can protect her heart.

Texas Hold ‘Em
Sage Drummond thought she’d never recover from the effects of a relationship filled with cruelty, but she craved the role of sub. When she tentatively dips her toe in the waters at Rawhide, the last thing she expects to find is a Master who will satisfy her needs as well as heal her heart. Can it last?

Dealer’s Choice
Cade Sullivan was one of the most in-demand Doms until a tragedy sent him hiding from the world and out of the D/s life. Working at Rawhide gives Fiona Wilder the urge to try the D/s life. Can she be the key to help Cade forget the past and build a life with a sub that is all his?

Two of a Kind
They each bring their baggage to a night at Rawhide that is supposed to be nothing but fun—a night of intense D/s play. Neither is prepared for the intense connection they make or how it will change their lives.

Get your copy of Rawhide: Ace in the Hole here!

And a snippet from Cut the Cards…

Tanner Sloat was everything subs imagined Doms to be, power flowing from his body. It was hard to ignore the bulge at his crotch, and it had cream flooding the tiny crotch of her thong at the sight of it. Her nipples hardened, poking into the soft material of her halter. At once, she imagined herself on her knees in front of him, his cock on her tongue, her hands squeezing his balls. Would he spank her if he thought her performance lacking?

Oh, yes! Please!

She was instantly even more wet and needy, and he hadn’t even said hello to her yet.

When she looked up at Tanner, a tiny knowing smile flirted with the corners of his mouth and sexual hunger flared in his eyes. He raked his gaze over her slowly, taking in every inch of her. Now she knew what the phrase “undressing someone with his eyes” meant, because that was exactly how she felt. At that moment, if he’d told her to strip naked, get down on her hands and knees, and let him fuck her ass, she’d have done it without a moment’s hesitation.

Holy shit!

She swallowed and curved her mouth in a smile. “Welcome to Rawhide.”

He dipped his head once. “I can see you’re everything Reulas said you were.”

And exactly what was that?

“Tanner is just back from a tour of duty as a member of a Delta Force team,” Reulas explained.

Ooo-kay. So that explained the ripped body. She wondered if he had any interesting scars. Without realizing it, Kelly licked her lips.

“I picked up a little game while I was in…a different country,” Tanner said. “When I mentioned it to Reulas, it interested him. He suggested giving a little presentation to the members.” His eyes looked her over again. “From everything he told me, I thought you would be an excellent choice for a game partner. You enjoy exhibitionism, right?”

Did a bank have money? Heat sizzled through her at the idea of performing before this crowd with this highly sexual man.

“I do,” she answered. “Can you tell me what the game is about?”

He held out a deck of cards. “Take a look at these. The idea is each partner goes through the deck and removes any position or activity that they absolutely will not do. Then they go through them one at a time.”

“Of course, no one expects to complete the entire selection in one session,” Reulas added. “So each partner picks his or her top three and then they begin.”

Kelly cocked an eyebrow at him. “Your email sounded intriguing, and everyone is always looking for something new. I’m sure that’s why there’s such a big crowd tonight.”

Reulas nodded. “If I’d told them you were going to be part of the performance, we’d have been so crowded the fire marshal might have shut us down.”

“Reulas tells me you are a particular favorite.” Tanner’s voice rolled over her nerves like the electric wand she loved so much, sending sparks along the surface of her skin.

“He’s very kind. But I do my best to please.”

“As a good sub should.” He gave her a penetrating look that pierced all the way to her pussy. Her inner walls clenched, and she had to resist the urge to squeeze her thighs together.

“Why don’t the two of you step into the little alcove over there?” Reulas pointed. “You can select your cards. When you’re ready, I’ll get everyone’s attention and announce the beginning of the performance.”

*~*~*

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Hi Delilah Fans!

The holiday season is always a time for raw nerves and overwrought emotions. I for one am susceptible to depression, that kind of misery that makes you want to never leave your bedroom. Maybe it’s natural that when the days are their shortest, our energy levels will sink as well. The weather is cold (for most of us), the nights last forever, and our culture’s coping skills involve spending money we can’t afford.

Over the years, I’ve found relatively inexpensive ways to celebrate the season without going to great expense. One year I solicited donations from a few friends to purchase and have delivered a new range for a neighbor with six kids and no functional oven. Other years I baked cookies and candies to share with neighbors and friends. I always try to send out Christmas cards with a short note updating friends about my past year.

This year, besides a joyful week with all three adult kids at home, cookies for neighbors, Zooming with siblings and their kids, and a nice meal for my 97-year old mom, what I’m giving you are some free stories to snuggle up with. Some are naughtier than others, but among them, I hope you find something that makes your day a little brighter. Here’s the line-up:

 

Holiday Journey: Follow the chance encounter of two travelers stranded in an airport just before Christmas. The attraction is instantaneous but even though he’s willing, she’s wary. Novelette Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/675289, set your own price.

Christmas Hideaway:  Caryn hadn’t expected a snowstorm when she hid away in a remote cabin to lick her wounds. She also hadn’t expected an overbearing park ranger to confront her. But the snow kept falling and the temperature kept dropping, trapping her at his cabin. What could possibly go wrong? Novella Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/685194, set your own price.

A Taste of Love: Senna and Teutonius, both enslaved Celts serving their Roman masters at a remote encampment in occupied Britain, manage to exchange warm greetings amid holiday duties. Short Story Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/759904.

His Only Love: An enslaved Greek, hopelessly in love with the Roman commander, finds a moment of pleasure with a slave of his own before facing the wrath of his beloved. [Explicit gay sex, BDSM.] Novelette Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/759899.

A Gift for Jarrod: A young man enters a training academy for submissives, anxious to understand his unusual desires. His Christmas couldn’t be more wonderfully unexpected. [Explicit BDSM] Novella  Make it yours at https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/383857.

AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Lizzie Ashworth

Some of you who loved my Stepbrothers Stepping Out series of erotic short stories especially enjoyed my With His SEAL Team series within the series and nagged, er, encouraged me to write the final sequel—Sara’s and Hunter’s wedding! Well, I finally wrote it! I hope you enjoy it! It’s short, so the perfect read when you’re taking a break from all that holiday preparation! Plus, it’s only $0.99—and FREE in Kindle Unlimited. It’s packed full of naughty goodness. Sara is after all the luckiest girl in the world. 🙂

With His SEAL Team, Part 6

Tomorrow at sunrise, I’m marrying my steplover, Hunter. At long last, I’m marrying the man I’ve loved since we first met when our parents married–a dream come true.

However, one pesky question remains unanswered. I don’t know what happens after we say, “I do.” Is tonight the last time Hunter will share me with his friends, my dearly beloved playmates?

Note: This 6,400-word short story is the sixth installment of the short story series, With His SEAL Team.

Get your copy here!

If you haven’t read all of the series, check these out. They are all available for FREE in Kindle Unlimited! Just click on the cover!

Open Contests! Plenty of Prizes left!

1. Payton Harlie: Love in Lockdown — Pandemic Partner with Benefits (FREE story!) — Everyone, get your FREE story!
2. Anna M. Taylor: Who’s On Second? (Contest) — Ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
3. It’s Tuesday, so of course it’s a PUZZLE-CONTEST & more! — Ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
4. Diana Cosby: Inspiration From Nature – Deer (Contest) — Win a signed book!
5. Today’s cards… (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!

I Have a Secret

I read my first BDSM novel not long after getting my first e-reader.  Annabel Joseph’s novel, Molly’s Lips, changed my life.  I was pulled into the world of dominance and submission through the extreme Master/slave relationship between Molly and Mephisto.  Needless to say, I bought the first book in the series and subsequently the final book in the trilogy.  Then I went on to buy every book Annabel has ever written.  I wasn’t just a fan, I was a superfan.  I even got to meet Annabel in person—a meeting that changed my life.

Meanwhile, I started to do research into the BDSM lifestyle.  I was fascinated, and somehow knew, this was more than just a passing interest.  I wrote my In Their Eyes trilogy before I’d ever heard of Fifty Shades of Grey.  Amber Eyes is the first book in the trilogy, and I don’t think I ever believed the book would be published.

In January 2015, I went to my first munch.  A munch is a vanilla event for kinky people.  You go to a restaurant wearing street clothes, but hang out with people who are curious about or into BDSM.  Although I was nervous, I also was instantly comfortable, sensing I had met my people.  I met a woman who became my protector.  She watched out for me and guided me as I moved further and further into the lifestyle.  Pretty soon, I was attending conferences and dungeons.  Eventually, I got involved in scenes.

Shhh.  My parents don’t know.

Eventually, I revisited the trilogy I’d written, and I realized there were scenes needing to be rewritten.  Personal experience, as well as discussions I’d embarked upon, had opened my eyes.  Now, I knew what it was like to, uh, partake in scenes.  I’ll leave it to your imagination, but there are several scenes in my book that come from personal experience.

After all the changes in the book, and after extensive edits, I found a home for the book at The Wild Rose Press.  I found an editor who understood my vision, and who saw the potential in the story. I owe her for helping me make it a better book.  One I hope readers will enjoy.

So now you know my secret.

Amber Eyes

She needs a firm hand.
He needs a challenge.

School principal Gage Clayton is still grieving the death of his wife and submissive, yet he can’t ignore his Dominant needs. As he enters Club Kink, he’s inexplicably drawn to a newly released sub with an intriguing proposition and the most captivating amber eyes. But she has disturbing baggage and her expectations prove quite a challenge, one that would necessitate a commitment he’s not ready for.

Rielle Reid needs a Dom while she waits for her former Master to return. When she invites a handsome stranger to her home dungeon for a night of play, she’s surprised at his gentle dominance—and her response to it. But in the light of day, his demand for equal footing confounds her. After living four years as a twenty-four/seven slave, she has no concept of how to be anything other than property.

Gage must find a way to master Rielle to free them both from the shackles of the past.

Exclusive Excerpt

She released his hand, rose, and stretched. Leaning down, she placed a kiss to his cheek. “Come to bed soon. You’re looking as tired as I’m feeling.” Then she was gone.

In her wake, however, a wave of desire swept over him.

Come to bed soon, she said. As in, come to our bed soon? There had been no talk of sleeping arrangements, and the room she’d used the previous weekend had been cleaned, sheets laundered, everything put to rights. Sex was out of the question, but sleeping with someone? For the whole night? That held almost as much appeal.

Almost.

Cleanup was simple, and within a few minutes, he headed to the bathroom. The steam from her earlier shower had dissipated, but her scent lingered. He’d yet to put his finger on the exact scent of body spray she used, but he liked trying to guess. He loved the mystery and allure that came with the not knowing.

When he stepped into his bedroom, one of the bedside lamps was on, casting the room in shadows. She was already in bed, covers pulled up. He stripped out of his clothes and slid in beside her, cradling her against him, spoon-style. She extended a hand to switch off the light, and he stopped her.

“I don’t mind sleeping with the light on.”

“With you next to me, I don’t need the light.”

He was moved almost to the point beyond words. “I’ll always protect you. You know that, right?”

Instead of responding, she cuddled closer to him, burrowing herself under the blankets. It wasn’t long before her breath evened out and even less time after that before his did.

Links:
Amazon US:  https://amzn.to/3jf4oJd
Amazon CA:  https://amzn.to/2CasIeT
Banes and Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/amber-eyes-gabbi-black/1137343876
Google Play:  https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Gabbi_Black_Amber_Eyes?id=g-33DwAAQBAJ
KOBO:  https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/amber-eyes-11
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/amber-eyes/id1526064524?
Publisher:  https://www.thewildrosepress.com/books/amber-eyes
Add it to GoodReads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54920296-amber-eyes

About Gabbi Black

Even though Gabbi Black is a firm believer in happy endings, she makes her characters work for it in every romance she writes, no matter what the genre.  From contemporary to BDSM, they are penned late at night in her home on a beautiful British Columbia mountain surrounded by magnificent trees and every conceivable woodland creature—including bears.  She also writes gay romances as Gabbi Grey.

Personal links:
Website:   https://gabbiblack.com/
Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/authorgabbiblack/
Facebook (page): https://www.facebook.com/Author-Gabbi-Black-106666354460589/
Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.ca/authorgabbiblack/boards/
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/GabbiAuthor
Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/2763198834

A science-fiction setting is popular for both writers and readers of erotic romances. The reason is simple, at least it is for me. Give me a fictional world and I can design it to meet any number of needs. The rules, regulations, and social standards we all live with can’t get in my way when I’m writing. I can make them go away.

A domineering man and submissive woman don’t require justification when the lifestyle is standard operating procedure in the world I came up with. I don’t have to justify why a man throws a woman over his knee and repeatedly applies his hand to her ass. Readers of spanking erotica accept that this is how things are done within these pages. A woman doesn’t yell “insanity” if the man in her life treats her like a child. Instead, she gets the norms of the world she finds herself in. Sometimes, it takes a while but that’s part of the fun.

Okay, that’s all well and good. A woman wears a collar and crawls on hands and knees behind the hunk who commands her to because it’s expected and she’s turned on.

But what’s their physical world like?

Setting is vital to me. I can’t start a story until I know what my characters’ world looks like. And here’s a secret: I suck at creating fictional worlds. If you’ve read some Vonna Harper erotic fiction, you may have noticed I don’t put my characters on distant, exotic planets with complex social and political structure to say nothing of blue suns and five-legged household pets. Instead, I rely on corners of the world I know.

Case in point, one of my eroticas is Midnight Touch. Much of this story about a couple with heavy loads of emotional baggage takes place in eastern Oregon. No urban center or exotic city for me because I’ve never lived there and have no desire to. Give me wide open spaces every time—spaces where the few residents live their isolated lives in private.

Sara’s dead ex-husband was a domineering SOB who got away with treating her as he wanted. She seldom saw anyone and didn’t know whether she could trust those she did. She repeatedly tried to escape but never succeeded. I didn’t need to invent a planet because I planted poor Sara in ranching country with more cattle than humans. I know what eastern Oregon’s high desert land looks and smells like. I’ve been there. No need to try to figure out where water and other necessities come from. I’ve seen the wells.

My hero Mace doesn’t belong there, but he has no choice because Sara needs him in ways only he understands. Taking him deep into that isolated setting while he grapples with the forces that brought him there was so much fun. I put that poor man through a lot. Fortunately, he’s up for the challenge.

As for why I chose a country where antelope live, it almost never rains, the nearest grocery store is fifty miles away, and two people struggle to find peace and love there.

Looks like you’ll have to read Midnight Touch to comprehend their dangerous journey, hint, hint. You might also wind up with a darn good idea what panoramic eastern Oregon is like.

Midnight Touch

Obsession. Insanity. Darkness.

The words explain why Mace Seeger has come to see a woman he should have nothing to do with. But when he finds Sara Parmenter’s photograph in her dead husband’s wallet, her haunted eyes touch his soul, distracting him from her naked bound body.

The woman he finds at the isolated ranch is no longer trapped with a cruel and violent man because Ronnie Parmenter is gone, murdered.

He’s no longer a danger.

Sara desperately wants to believe she’s free from her nightmares—and to understand why she’s willing to risk everything with Mace, a man maybe she shouldn’t trust or believe.

A lifetime ago she’d been a sexual woman. The realities of her marriage had stripped those things from her, but being near Mace has reawakened primitive needs. She’s returning to life.

But Ronnie isn’t done.

Get your copy here!