Two things are exciting me right now: the first concerns my writing, about which I’ll publish a separate post in due course (in short: I’ve been doing some); and the second is the recent publication of Lust on the Wing (available on Amazon), a hot and spicy anthology of paranormal erotica with lots of romance. It is the second in a series of anthologies: the first, Lust by the Sea (also available on Amazon) takes the reader on an erotically watery mythological odyssey; the third, Lust in Tooth and Claw (available for pre-order on, yes, Amazon and for general release on 4 October) promises erotic tales about werewolves, vampires and the Sidhe.
Lust on the Wing contains novellas by four talented erotic authors from the United States, New Zealand and Great Britain, who “love looking to the sky and imagining all the paranormal creatures that break the bonds of Earth’s gravity”. The stories present deliciously sexy monsters, demons and creatures of myth and legend, a lusty journey designed to tantalize, titillate and electrify the reader. I include extracts from two of the stories below so you can see for yourself.
The individual stories and their authors are:
Devi Ansevi, Captive Mate
If it weren’t for bad luck with men, she’d have no luck at all. In Devi Ansevi’s Captive Mate, reality will never be the same for graduate student Berry Randall. She’s just learned that shifters are real, and they want her for their mate. Can she escape her captors? Or will she find freedom in the arms of the winged gryphons?
About Devi Ansevi: Devi is a prolific author, avid reader, closet romantic, incurable optimist, and owner of a very fertile, very naughty imagination. In her books you will find two or more people enjoying vanilla and non-vanilla sex, including spanking, bondage, dominance, toys, delicious punishments, and other naughty but oh-so-nice things. All of her stories explore the dynamics of power in a relationship, and all have an HEA or HFN.
Tweet her @sexidevi or find her on Facebook. Learn more about books she’s written, read and reviewed at her Goodreads author page, her Amazon Author page, or her Crush Blush blog. Or you can sign up for her newsletter.
Jacqui Greaves, Blood of Stone
In Jacqui Greaves’ Blood of Stone, Fredegund has guarded her petrified charges for a century. With the rising of the twin moons, the Grotesques are awakening, hungry for more than food. Meanwhile, the human hordes have created the Charm, a seductress destined to destroy the balance of power between Grotesques and humans. Can Fredegund prevent the coming disaster, or will her world be changed forever?
About Jacqui Greaves: Jacqui is a Melbourne-based writer of erotica, fantasy, science fiction and historical fiction who loves nothing more than mixing the genres together in weird and wonderful ways. Her stories seldom have happy endings and do not lean towards the romantic. She loves to explore the gritty, dark side of nature and has a passion for strong female characters.
Ina Morata, Flights of Fantasy
Lila seeks a man who can satisfy her darkest desires. Porphyro and the virginal Madeleine are preparing to elope. In Ina Morata’s Flights of Fantasy, Lila sets her sights on entrapping Porphyro, and sets sexy enticements to dispose of Madeleine. When her plans go awry, Lila must use her Lilitu wiles to seduce them both.
(I also know, since Ina is a good friend of mine, that her story was inspired by her favourite poem, Keats’ “The Eve of St Agnes”, in which Porphyro and Madeleine elope one miserable night in winter. Flights of Fantasy came to her having re-read it, she tells me, for the thousandth time!)
About Ina Morata: Ina is a raging bibliophile who is fascinated by mythology and the human experience alike. She enjoys exploring power dynamics in her longer work and in her short stories, writing from the heart about the psychological and emotional, as well as the physical, in her erotica and erotic romance. As such, she likes to experiment with her characters’ boundaries. Her work contains vanilla and non-vanilla sex between two or more people, and includes spanking, dominance in real and virtual situations, bondage, voyeurism, and a whole number of other delicious, erotic themes. Matters of the heart play a big part, one way or another, throughout her writing.
For more details of Ina’s books, you can visit her Amazon Author Page. You can contact her on Twitter @InaMorataWriter, or on her Facebook Author Page. You can also find her on Pinterest and Instagram, or go to Goodreads to discuss sexy books with her.
And have a look at her fantastic website.
Essemoh Teepee, Leonora: Marked by Daemons
In Essemoh Teepee’s Leonora: Marked by Daemons, we meet a feisty young woman with a secret. The SHAKKAN are the Shepherds, and humanity is their flock. For millennia they have bred Mark Bearers like Leo to withstand the most extreme forms of pleasure and pain. But nothing ever stays the same, and this is a time of great change.
About Essemoh Teepee: Essemoh has been published by Circlet Press, Cleis Press and Renaissance/Sizzler. He shares in an IPPY Gold Medal for the acclaimed anthology Carnal Machines, published by Cleis Press, which includes his steampunk story ‘Doctor Watson Makes a House Call’. While he enjoys writing erotic fiction that skirts the darker side of human experience, many of his stories turn out to have romance lurking in them, however hard he tries to expunge it!
Essemoh has spent several years creating the frighteningly erotic world of the SHAKKAN Universe. This story of Leonora, a Mark Bearer for the Aliens has never before been published and is part of a story arc begun in the first volume of this series, Lust by the Sea. Full of strange and exciting adventures, sex, romance, monsters, more sex, heroines, heroes, even more hot sex, blood and death, all too hot for Amazon; these stories are continued elsewhere. Go to Essemoh’s website www.smotp.com for more.
He is also known for his work developing an experiential audio technique he calls Directed Erotic Visualisation©. There are nearly 200 audio experiences to suit nearly every kink, gender and orientation. You can find out more at the website www.smotp.xxx.
Extract from Jacqui Greaves, Blood of Stone
The Charm had almost reached the massive wooden gates when events changed overhead. Even to her inexperienced eye this new challenge was different from the rest. She watched the small challenger draw his larger opponent down amongst the lower structures of the chateau with a strange mix of admiration and lust. As they flew low along the ramparts she ducked her head to avoid the searing heat from a blast of flame. When she lifted her gaze, the Charm found herself staring into the eyes of the one she sought.
Her heart snagged and breath faltered as she drank in his glory. The muscles of his legs were defined with such sharpness she could count them individually, while those of his arms bulged and stretched in magnificent rivalry.
He sank towards her, vast wings blocking all else from view. Although his face twisted into a fearsome grimace, his full lips begged to be bitten and his eyes…her thoughts trailed away as she surrendered to his eyes.
With the barest movement of air, he sank to the ground in front of her, crouching until they were eye to eye.
“I am the Charm.”
“I am Clovis.” His voice sounded like rocks being tumbled in a flooded river.
The Charm lifted her hand to cup his face, “I give myself to you, Clovis. The twin moons have led me to you.”
Her fingers rippled over the corrugated muscles of his midriff. Before her hand could sink lower, he grabbed her wrist in an iron grasp. His free hand slid down her spine, over the curve of her buttocks and pushed between her thighs. She sank into his grasp. His fingers slid between her hot folds.
Then they were airborne.
The sensation was everything and more than she had imagined. The ground rushed away. The air pressed against her, whipping copper waves of hair around their bodies. Spots formed before her eyes and she became dizzy until she remembered to breathe. The odours of rocks, lichens, fire and flesh faded along with the chittering of the putti and the guttural cries of his clan as he lifted her higher and closer to the twins.
The Charm wrapped her legs around him, rocking her hips. She writhed in abandon, crying out in climax against his uncompromising grasp on her cunt. The waves of pleasure abated and she brought her mouth to his, sliding her tongue between lush lips to explore within. His forked tongue twisted and twirled around hers, dragging a groan from the depths of her throat.
Clovis lifted her by the hips to sit on his shoulders, his face between her thighs. Any fear at such a vulnerable perch at their altitude was obliterated by the magic of his tongue. The forks at first flicked in unison over the nub of her clitoris, teasing it out of its fleshy hood with gentle strokes. Then to her amazement, one fork worked its way into the opening of her vagina while the other continued to torment her aroused bud.
He alternated between probing her with his tongue and using his teeth and lips to graze, nibble and suck at her sex. The pleasure grew more intense and the Charm grasped his head, pushing him deeper into her. Releasing his hold on her hips, he slid one hand up her back for support. She groaned as he thrust several fingers into her slick cunt without warning, then, with no further prelude, the fingers were replaced by his thumb. She felt a wet pressure against her arse, her muscles strained to resist his incursion but were overwhelmed by his insistence. The waves of her orgasm surged through her over and over again, dragging forth screams of ecstasy.
In limp bliss, she fell.
Falling backwards, powerless to save herself, she could only stare up at her lover. He watched for a moment, then folded his wings and speared into a dive. The Charm spread her legs and opened her arms. He penetrated her at speed, the head of his cock seeking its way into her as their bodies crashed together in sublime sensation. He filled her, fitting her depth with perfection. This time Clovis cried out his pleasure, fingers digging deep into the rounded flesh of her hips.
He spread his wings to slow their descent and withdrew. Her cunt ached at his absence and she arched towards him but he maintained their separation. He kissed her with slow passion. Then, eyes molten with lust, he pushed forward with slow restraint until he immersed himself fully.
The Charm was in no mood to find out how long he would have maintained this slow torture. She raked her nails down his back to the base of his tail, causing him to arch in reflex. She mirrored his movement and their hips crushed together. She repeated the action while at the same time latching her teeth onto his lower lip and biting hard. His thrust was violent, fingers bruised her flesh. Releasing his lip, she tipped her head to expose the base of her neck. Teeth latching onto the soft skin, with a growl he unleashed his desire.
Every beat of his wings accompanied a thrust of animalistic savagery. They coupled in pure instinct, devoid of love or affection. He pounded into her with relentless ferocity. She responded in kind, clawing the skin from his back with her nails and tearing the flesh from his shoulder with her teeth, shuddering in growing excitement at each penetration.
Their grinding rhythm turned to frenzy, and their ascent towards the twin moons faltered. Thrashing together, they hovered, grunts turned to orgasmic cries. Her insides liquefied, flowing over him as he filled her with his seed. Clovis shuddered his last, raised his head and roared with a flame that overshadowed the light of the moons.
Exhausted and replete they fluttered earthwards towards the chateau. With her final shred of energy, the Charm pointed towards her red pavilion at the base of the path. Clovis altered his course without question, landing with such care the canvas didn’t even flutter. She led him inside to the softness of her bed, where, bodies tangled, they fell asleep.
The Charm’s slumber was so profound she did not hear or feel her limbs pushed aside as massive iron cuffs clamped shut on her lover’s wrists and ankles.
Extract from Ina Morata, Flights of Fantasy
“What is it, Alice?” Madeleine’s gaze is glued to the reflection of Alice’s fingers that deftly unlace her corset from behind and drop the garment to the floor, leaving her hand brushing against the fair fluff between Madeleine’s legs, and coming to light upon her little nub. She moans, and blushes once more. Alice keeps her hand there, moving her fingers every so often to the sound of tiny, low moans.
“I thought that, maybe, holding up the fine fabric to here—” Her hand is replaced with the finest netting, and Madeleine’s pussy throbs at the sight of the mystery between her thighs almost visible through the fabric. “Or maybe here—” Her body squirms under the expert hand that slides the netting up her torso and onto her naked breasts. Holding it there, she sees her nipples visible through it, and how they have grown darker than usual, and protrude quite clearly.
“Do you not think it a little too fine, Alice?” Her eyes close as she feels the touch of Alice’s thumbs on her hardening tips. Lost in the feeling, and the tingle that converges on her little nub, something cold and hard pressing up against her skin makes her body jolt.
“What is it you have gripped so hard in your hand, Alice? What is it you are holding around me?”
Alice stares at her, and for some reason, Madeleine shrinks a little under her eyes.
“Nothing but the dressmaker’s shears, Miss. I thought slicing the little piece in two…but it seems…maybe I am unable…”
Alice’s face breaks into a troubled frown as she lowers the shears.
“Will you excuse me, Miss? I have realised that I have forgotten my measure. I cannot ensure an accurate fit without it, can I?”
“Very well.” Madeleine’s breath is erratic, her body heaves. Still clinging to the feel of fingers floating over her body, she lets Alice leave the room. Standing there, her naked form staring back at her, she lets her own fingers tease her nipples and tantalise her clit, trying to imagine Porphyro’s fingers against her flesh. The image will not form clearly. A frustration sweeps over her, and she screws her eyes up tight. When she opens them, she squeals.
“I’m sorry, Miss. Alice has been called away elsewhere by your father. I am sent to finish you off.”
Madeleine’s first instinct is to grab something to cover herself. But there is something about the owner of the voice that captivates her, and her instinct is lost. She looks at the woman who appears as a reflection standing behind her: at her dark hair, and her dress covered in a cloak. She has the most beautiful face, ageless, although her eyes seem to hold ancient mysteries. As she lowers her cloak, Madelaine is fascinated by the dress she wears—it seems only an intertwining of laces and ribbons hold the bodice together down to her hips, the flesh of which is on display. It clings to her curves as if she has been poured into it, and is the most heart-stopping garment she has ever seen—worn by a servant whom she has never met. Could this be some mistress of her father’s? The dress trails around the woman’s feet, its draping train curling about her as if she has appeared on a sweep of the wind. On contact with eyes that pierce green in the glass, a pain accosts Madeleine, starting between her legs and ending in her chest. A couple of deep breaths and she is herself again, but blushing crimson at her state of undress.
“Why is it you wear such a—I have never seen the like of such a dress. You are a servant, are you not?”
The woman smiles. From behind her, something moves, and it takes Madeleine a moment or two to realise what she is seeing. Two stunning black wings begin to fan outwards, and the woman speaks to Madeleine’s reflection.
“Oh yes, Miss. I’m here to service you. My name is Lila.”
Utterly mesmerised by the sight, Madeleine stretches out her fingertips to the glass, and meets flesh. She jumps, confused, enchanted, and touches the dress, moving her fingers further up the bodice, finding all the holes between the web of ties. For every second her fingers seek the reflection, she feels the scrape of long nails over her skin. It makes her shiver, and each wave converges between her legs. She reaches further up towards the reflection’s breast, and the nails scrape softly across her tender mounds, flicking at her nipples and making them stand out enough that the nails can hook them upwards, and she watches as Lila releases them with a long, low moan, her eyes fiery green flames of a netherworld.
“Touch your body. Let me see you find pleasure in yourself. Show me what it is you want to feel.”
With no more invitation that this, and unable to control herself, Madeleine’s fingers slide down her skin, her fingertips making contact with her sensitive little nub. As she does, the reflection flicks at her own shoulders, and her entire dress falls away, leaving Madeleine’s other hand to roam the revealed flesh in amazement.
“Do you like touching, Miss?”
Madeleine blushes. “Yes. I—yes, I do.”
The reflection smiles at her, sending hot quivers through every part of her body.
“Then put your hand here, Miss. While I put mine just there.”
Lila’s pussy lips open to her fingertips, and Madeleine gasps. Her own folds are subject to expert work that make her writhe and moan.
“Why not sit down? Open your legs, wide.”
She does as she is bid, forgetting who is the Lady and who is not. The sight before her makes her mew. Her juices pool in her entrance as she watches those in the reflection do the same. The scent of her own arousal drifts and fills her with heady excitement.
“Slide forward. Push your hips towards the mirror. Put your back to the floorboards.”
Slowly, pushing herself up towards the glass, she feels the hot flesh of Lila’s legs making contact with hers; first over the calf of one leg and the shin of the other, then over her knees, pressing up against the soft flesh of her thighs. Her heart begins to race, and her breath is shallow, erratic. She inches her way towards the mirror, starting to shake at the fairy tale to come, because this cannot be real, surely? Her tender, swollen folds brush against Lila’s own, pushing, sliding, and her orgasm begins to rage as her flesh meets Lila’s hot, wet slickness. She moans, uncertain, knowing this cannot be happening, wanting to feel more—.