Amazon Reviews: Proceed With Caution

beautykingdomGood morning, Dear Readers!  It’s a beautiful day here in sunny South Carolina.  I do hope it’s sunny and warm where you are.  I thought I’d begin this latest rant (yes, brace yourself.  it’s going to be a rant.) with an exclamation of how excited I am to see the newest chapter in A.N. Roquelaure (Anne Rice for those that might not know)’s Beauty series.  If you know anything about me at all you know that part of the reason I do what I do is because of the original Beauty trilogy (don’t worry, I’m going to put a link up later so you can get them for yourself). If you’ve read my novel Beast of Burden, you probably recognize that I was very much influenced by Rice.

I read the original Beauty Trilogy for the first time at probably twelve or thirteen years old.  I smuggled them out of my sister’s room (sorry, Lucy Blue) and read all three in a weekend.  They opened my eyes to a world of not just kinky sex (I already had a rudimentary knowledge of sexy stuff at that point) but to a world where the act of reading was actually a sensual experience.  With every word in those books I was shocked, delighted, aroused and utterly intoxicated.  By words.  The descriptions of the people and places and experiences are so visceral and those images have stayed with me all these years.  I owe Ms. Rice a tremendous debt of gratitude.  She made me a reader, a writer and a woman in that single weekend with just under a thousand pages of text.  Since then I’ve read those books all the way through at least a dozen times.  I had to purchase a new set a few years ago because the ones I had were missing pages and the covers were torn.  I consider them to be my personal reference.  When I’m writing an erotic book and I get lost, I read Beauty’s Punishment (my favorite of the trilogy) so that I can remember that erotic stories are not just about sex, but about the people and the story.  The words. Nowhere in those books does anyone talk about dripping wet love holes. Nor does the dialogue make you cringe.  (“I fuck.  Hard.”  What?!!)  The world in which Beauty and her companions exist is a world where sexual slavery is not only accepted, but longed for.  It’s a symbol of status.  Therefore, there are no silly contracts or instructions on how to properly flog your sub. Rice has no interest writing a BDSM instruction manual or a treatise on how to properly engage in an abusive relationship.  It’s a FANTASY.  It seems with all the erotic fiction out there, we’ve forgotten that these are FANTASIES that are supposed to entertain and titillate.  Not inspire a lifestyle.  But I digress…

Now comes the rant.

I was reading the Amazon reviews of the new book, Beauty’s Kingdom, this morning when I got to work.  I plan to go and get my copy this weekend, but I was curious as to what others were saying.  They were all pretty positive, but I’m having a hard time believing any of them.  NONE of the reviewers on that first page had ever read the first books.  NONE.  One of them claimed that “The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty” came out in 1999.  Another said that she hadn’t read the originals because she didn’t think that they would be her cup of tea, but she got an ARC of this and thought what the hell. I get the distinct impression that all of these folks picked it up and thought, “I wonder if this is as good as 50 Shades?”  Which just cuts me to the core for a number of reasons that I’m sure you can guess based on past posts.  The reason why this is annoying to me is because what I really want to know is— will Beauty’s Kingdom stand up alongside the original trilogy?  Is it edgy and sexy and dripping with raw sensuality like the originals?  None of these folks who I’m sure are very intelligent people could tell me because they hadn’t done their research.  And if they’re getting ARCs, then they aren’t just the “average reader” anymore.  They’re a pro reviewer, for lack of a better term.  The “average reader” is looking to them for guidance before they spend the money.  They have a responsibility, in my opinion.  It would be like Roger Ebert reviewing Star Wars after only having watched the last fifteen minutes.

At any rate, despite the purist rage, I’m really excited to get my copy of Beauty’s Kingdom in a couple of days.  I’ll be sure to post my review here when I’m done AND on Amazon.  If for no other reason, then I believe in supporting authors– even superstars like Anne Rice.  And I wouldn’t be a true indie author if I didn’t remind you…

HEY!  If you like erotic retellings of fairy tales, try Beast of Burden by Alexandra Christian!  Don’t believe me?  Try an excerpt…


His words were cut short by another booming of thunder so loud it echoed off the stone walls, throwing the oil lamp tobeastofburden_original the floor at his feet. Without care for who he was or how he frightened her, Sascha leapt from the bed and threw herself into his arms. At first he was paralyzed with shock, having no idea how to react to this sudden change. After a few moments of her sobbing into his shoulder, he found himself wrapping his arms around her protectively.

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “You’re safe.”

“No I’m not,” she cried. “I’m as unsafe as any one girl could possibly be. Locked up in this castle without a soul that I know. A slave that has no idea what to do or say!” She burst into another torrent of sobs that left her shuddering against him. In a swift movement, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the chaise by the fire.

The embers had burned low, but still offered some illumination and warmth. He cradled her body against his, tucking her head under his chin. “You’ve nothing to fear, little one,” he purred into her ear softly. “No harm will come to you here.”

“I wish I could believe you, My Lord,” she sniffled.

“Why can’t you?”

She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. How could she tell him how he frightened her? How the slightest glance from him brought terror and arousal in one crushing wave. It was too humiliating and shameful to admit. “I just…I mean…you…”

“Are you afraid of me, Sascha?” He asked this question so matter-of-factly that she nodded before she could stop herself. She blushed deeply and he chuckled. “Put your mind at ease, girl. I promise that it’s not my intention to hurt you.”

They sat on the chaise for several minutes, neither one speaking. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the storm raging beyond the walls. Finally, Sascha stared up at her new Master and realized the absurdity of their situation. “My Lord?”


“What?” She looked up at him, clearly confused.

“My name. Cianan. Anyone who awakens me in the middle of the night should call me by my given name.” He smiled warmly then tensed again. “But only here.”

Sascha nodded. “Cianan,” she began, her voice still trembling. “Why are you suddenly being so kind to me?”

“You thought me unkind before?” She could only stare at him. “Perhaps I can be a little rough around the edges,” he admitted. “I never meant to be unkind. I beg your pardon if it seemed so.” She seemed to accept this and their silence resumed. She relaxed into his embrace and he sighed, relieved she wasn’t going to run. He inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her, committing it to memory. Every breath made him believe in her more and more. She was his mate and he would do everything he could to convince her of that fact. “I can feel more questions burning on your tongue, little one.”

Sascha blushed again. “Well…I was wondering…the library…”

“What about it?” His jaw tensed.

“Might I borrow a book? I like to read,” she asked nervously. She kept her eyes trained on the flames before her, not wanting to see any anger on his face. “And I noticed you had a beautiful library.”

“As I’ve told you, you may go anywhere within the castle grounds you like…”

“Except for the cellar,” she finished. “But why not there?” This was the real question that burned on her tongue. The greatest mystery that had grown in her mind.

“It is none of your affair,” he answered stiffly, moving her carefully aside and standing by the fireplace. “It’s my place and you are never to enter. Do you understand?” His eyes flashed with a sudden fury and Sascha cowered.

“Of course, My Lord,” she replied, her eyes cast downward. “I will respect your wishes.”

He looked down at her, trying to smile reassuringly. “Of course you will.” The clock on the other side of the room struck the hour and Sascha yawned. “We should get you into bed lest you be exhausted in the morning.”

“And what should I expect in the morning?” she asked, allowing him to help her to her feet and lead her toward the bed. “Shall I report to the kitchens or the stables?”

He looked puzzled. “Neither.” He pulled back the covers and gestured for her to climb into the bed.

She obeyed and continued. “Well… I was sent here as your slave. But looking around me and the clothes given for me to wear, I just can’t figure what my duties should be.”

“To do whatever I require,” he answered simply, tucking the coverlet around her body. “And right now I require that you sleep.” He turned to leave, but was stopped with her hand on his arm.

“Couldn’t you just stay with me, My Lord?”

He raised his eyebrow. “Of course not. It wouldn’t be appropriate…”

“Please,” she pleaded. “Just until I’ve gone to sleep.” Her eyes looked past him to the window where the wind and rain still pounded at the stone walls. “Storms frighten me so.”

He sighed, defeated by her eyes again. He looked around and pulled a chair from the other side of the room to her bedside and sat down. “It seems that of the two of us, I am more slave to you.”

Spotlight: Suz deMello’s “Perilous Play: The Real Fifty Shades”



One of my favorites is stopping by The Belle today.  And she’s bringing news of her newest piece, “Perilous Play.”  It’s a memoir of one woman’s journey into the real BDSM experience.  Through her exceptionally honest and intriguing first-hand memoir, she gives her readers a glimpse into a world far more erotic than anything conjured up in Fifty Shades.  Enjoy!


The cover of Perilous Play states: based on a true story. The fact is, very little in this memoir is fiction.

Places and names have been changed. The time in my life when these events occurred is altered. One scene was added, to wrap up the story and tie it in a tidy bow.

But otherwise, it’s all true.

Check it out:

One woman’s journey into the contemporary kink underworld, Perilous Play is Suz deMello’s explosive personal account of her experiences with BDSM. Engaging and honest, this groundbreaking memoir will grab you and never let you go.

 Here’s an excerpt about one of my first BDSM experiences, with a man I call Trapper Hart. Trapper is a real person. That’s not his true name of course, but I gave my word that I wouldn’t reveal his secret life. I don’t owe him anything—not after the way he treated me—but I do keep my word.

We explored the dungeon and the equipment. The play space was clean and nicely decorated, with the usual emphasis on chains and black leather. There were Saint Andrew’s crosses, racks and slings, all of which intrigued me. The old-fashioned dentist’s chair startled me. I’ve been with a dentist, and little about him had been sexy.

Upstairs was a huge, romantically draped bed with sturdy-looking bedposts. A few feet away was a contraption that looked as though it had been designed with bondage and discipline in mind. It had a horizontal ring to hold the face and head attached to a surface, perhaps three feet long, for one’s torso to rest upon. Arm and leg supports, and every inch of it was padded. Every part of it had rings for the attachment of ropes or chains.

I looked at him and then this…bondage device…and then back at him. He smiled.

I said, “I want you to know that when we do this, I’m going to develop some deep feelings for you. I’m falling for you.” I know myself fairly well, and am aware that for me, sex and intimacy are intertwined. I wish I didn’t feel that way, but I tend to become emotionally involved with the men I’m fucking. The weekend had already been very intimate, and deeper intimacy was coming. I asked Trapper, “Can you deal with that?”

I needed to know that I would be taken care of. Not just my body but my mind and heart as well.

He told me, “Yes, there will be a role for you.”

A niggle of doubt itched me briefly, but at the time, that was enough for me to hear. I was eager to advance into this new experience, one I had craved for so long.

He directed me to remove some of my outerwear before hooding and gagging me. Then he guided me to the whatever-it-was and eased me onto it face down. He secured wrist and ankle restraints around me, then tied them to it. Lifting my skirt, he cut off my black lace panties.

I told myself never to wear panties around Trapper again. What for?

So I was bound to immobility and completely available. I was gagged, which meant that I could maybe grunt out my “safe word” if necessary. Or not.

Again, I don’t recall exactly what happened…the amnesiac effect of the oxytocin, I suppose. I remember being spanked, flogged and thoroughly fucked. I remember being smacked repeatedly with something—I didn’t know what, but I suspected it was made of leather—that hurt like a motherfucker. I recall begging him, “Please, sir, please sir, please sir…” through the gag.

I remember coming a lot.

I remember Trapper bending over me, covering me with his body and heat, hissing into my ear, “Whose are you?”

To which I promptly responded, “I’m yours.”

And I meant it.

 If what you have read intrigues you, here’s where you can get it: (Amazon)

 About me:

suz w name venice maskBest-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written nineteen books in several genres, including memoir, nonfiction, erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior editor, working for such firms as Totally Bound and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.

 Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

 A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

–Find her books at

–For editing services, email her at

–Befriend her on Facebook:

–She tweets @Suzdemello



–Her current blog is

The Objects of My Affliction, or When I Realized I Was a Weirdo

me and amy (2)Men.  I love ’em.  I mean, I really love ’em.  I love men of all shapes, sizes, ethnicities and persuasions.  However, this week I’ve become extremely aware that my taste in men is really strange.  Many of my feminine counterparts seem to have very definite ideas on what is sexy and I just don’t get it.  After reading a post on Facebook today about “GQ’s British Men of the Year,” and with the news of Charlie Hunnam being cast as Christian Grey, I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a man sexy.  The conclusion that I’ve come to is that I’ll never be a wildly successful, billionaire romance novelist because I just don’t get the appeal of some of these heartthrobs. Then I thought, well perhaps these folks just need a little education, Southern Belle Style.  So I’ve compiled a little list of my current panty sweaters.  Feel free to comment and add your two cents.  After all, it’s a free country.

1.  Benedict Cumberbatch.  If you read my blog at all, you’ll know that this is 1000573_490362137720823_1050310338_nNOT a surprise at all.  Folks in the U.S. have just discovered this little piece of limey goodness after his run in the new Star Trek movie, but BBC Sherlock fans have known what a smoldering sex god he was for years.  He’s got a funky name and inexplicable hair, but he’s got one thing that so many of our cream cheese icons don’t:  talent.  I’m a former theater brat and therefore very sensitive to talent, or lack thereof.  The man could believably play a cardboard box in the story of the invention of cornflakes.  When he speaks, you can look in his eyes and tell that he’s thinking, figuring things out. That is, if you can notice anything but the way his purring baritone sinks its teeth into those consonants.  During a “Hollywood-fu” instruction on an episode of Top Gear, he made the statement, “I like to be the dominant one.”  We believe it and he doesn’t even have to wear a ridiculous leather harness or a silver, herringbone tie.  He just is.  And then there’s the numerous documented instances of his incredible kindness, generosity and grace.  He’s just a class act and you can’t help but love him.

ewan-mcgregor-kurt-cobain-movie-1-17-072.  Ewan McGregor.  I owe so much of the happiness in my life to Ewan.  My writing career really began with Moulin Rouge fanfiction, and through that I met two of my best friends in the whole world.  Which was truly miraculous, because I met them at a time in my life when I was in transition from being a college kid to a grown-assed woman and feeling exceptionally lonely.  Ewan’s killer smile, boyish charm and of course that sing-songing Scottish brogue inspired me to write a story that was good enough to gain a following.  That positive feedback gave me the courage to try this writing thing for real.  So, thanks Mr. McGregor.  He has this fearlessness and approachability that real people can relate to.  He’s probably never going to make anyone’s Fashionista list, as he sometimes appears to have just grabbed whatever was in the top of the laundry bag.  His body, while nothing to sneeze at, doesn’t bear the marks of 20 hours a week at the gym.  He looks like he could give a really nice hug.  And that, to me, is extremely sexy.

3.  Christian Bale:  Aaah… part of my namesake.  Yes, kittens.  My parents did Christian-Bale01not name me Alexandra Christian.  The night I finished my first novel, Hellsong (coming soon in a new edition from Ellora’s Cave), I was trying to find a pseudonym.  I was teaching 2nd grade at the time and I didn’t think that if the powers that be found out I was writing sexy books about angels and demons falling in love in my spare time that they’d be happy.  I knew I wanted to use Alexandra– my father is an Alexander, but what goes with Alexandra? I looked around and happened to see my copy of The Dark Knight dvd sitting on the coffee table (I was nursing a healthy obsession with Christian Bale at the time). And it was an Aha! moment to end all Aha! moments.  By the by… both Saraqael of Hellsong and Marek from the upcoming Beast of Burden were inspired by the raw power of Mr. Bale.  The truth is, I’ve had a bit of a crush on him since I was ten.  A baby Shakespeare nerd, my older sister had me watch Henry V.  Bale was playing Robin– the kid that Henry carries, dead, off the battlefield at Agincourt (hold on… I’m tearing up).  He was twelve, I was much younger and immediately in love.  Then, over the course of my childhood and teenaged years I saw Newsies, Swing Kids and Velvet Goldmine (Frankenstein in drag!!) and my love only grew.  Now, he’s a big, burly guy who is, by all accounts, temperamental and cranky.  Being temperamental myself, I can sympathize (you’re trashing my scene!).  That kind of passion can only translate to really hot sex.  Sorry.  I’ll  need a moment.

OK… I just realized that I’ve written more on this blog post than the last chapter of my WIP.  So I’d better shove off, now that I’m all hot and bothered.  Ladies and gents, feel free to disagree if you like– the comment space is all paid for.  But let me leave you with two final thoughts—

1.  A meathead in a suit is STILL just a meathead.  And 2—


50 Shades of WTF?!: An Ending, or Why My Closet Door Now Has a Hole

I’m going to start off by saying that I’m going to try really hard not to give out any spoilers.  People have told me that since reading my blog, they are going to read50 Shades after all.  And despite my mischiveous nature, I don’t want to spoil it for them.  All I will say, kittens, is that E.L. James is damn lucky she wasn’t at my house last night.  Picture it…. Lexxx’s bathroom… 10pm….

I’m sitting in the bath where I have been for an hour, desperately trying to finish this damn book.  Little known fact about Lexxx– when I’m writing, I’m a pitifully slow reader.  I’m cheering as Christian seems to be doing all the right things.  Our heroine seems to be coming out of the fog of stupidity a little and acting like a grown up.  And then… things take a turn for the worse.  I’m screaming, “Clam up, stupid bitch!” And watching as her and that idiotic, naiive little inner voice completely ruin everything.  And then I’m completely and utterly enraged by the herky-jerky change in mood, the cowardice.. just… the pitiful non-ending.  Finally in a show of unadulterated anger I threw the book against the bathroom closet door.

Don’t worry… I felt this way at the end of The Fellowship of the Ring.

Anyway, if I say anymore there will be spoilers, so let’s move right to the contest.  That’s right… I said it– CONTEST!  Ever play that game Beyond Balderdash?  We’re gonna play something like that.  My friends and I have been laughing coming up with ridiculous names that spoof 50 Shades.  So here’s the deal… you guys post a comment that tells your spoof name and a brief synopsis of the book (100 words or so).  Make it funny and believeable.  Oh and don’t forget that all important email addy.  Myself and a committee (I’ll draft Crymsyn Hart and Siobhan Kincade) will choose the best one and post the winner HERE on Friday, 6/23.  The winner can CHOOSE any of my current releases to receive in their inboxes as a gift from the Southern Belle herself.  Sounds fun don’t it? Here’s an example….

50 Shades of Grey and Zombies:  Ana is a shy college girl, inept and awkward until the day she meets Christian Grey.  In a bizarre twist of fate, her friend begs her to do an interview with the mysterious and beautiful CEO.  Just as she blurts out, “Are you gay, Mr. Grey?”  an alarm goes off and suddenly they’re thrust into a fight for survival as zombies overtake the office building.  Little does Ana know that Mr. Grey has a panic room downstairs that also serves as a Dungeon of Desire.  Soon Ana finds herself surrendering to his erotic whims in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

Get the idea?  So get to writin’!  I can’t wait to hear those blurbs!  And I will be posting them and giggling on facebook!


50 Shades of WTF?!?, The Return

Well I have to say, kittens, that I really enjoyed tonight’s chapters.  Despite of some of the complaints that I’ll get into later, I have to say it made me smile.  And I didn’t think it was going to at first.  When the chapter began with an improptu visit from Christian’s mom I thought we were about to segue into total cornball territory.  But surprisingly, the visit was short and it gave us just enough to know that he 1– didn’t spring from his father’s forehead, 2– he wasn’t born from midichlorians (I had a theory) or 3– his mom wasn’t some cold hearted, blueblood bitch.  The latter would have been such a damn cliche.  And it might prove me wrong later.  As you know, I’m talking about the chapters as I read– so I’m not done yet.  I have to say I’m starting to enjoy the relationship between Christian and Ana, but it’s mostly due to the believeability of Grey.  Of course, I’m a girl, so perhaps I’m too hard on Ana, but her language and decisions are just so juvenile.  But his dialogue is great.  Just the right amount of flirtation and innuendo coupled with that intimidating seriousness.  And the author does a really great job of making us feel that intimidation.  See– I do think she has some talent as a writer, lest you think I’m just trashing the whole thing.  Notice I continue to read…

And on to the complaint department…

1.  Shut up you inner fucking goddess.  Now the voices in her head are doing the lotus position and jumping up and down!  WTF?!!?  I’m all for inner dialogue, but enough already!!

2.  Team Jacob/ Team Edward, thinly veiled.  Does anyone else think that Jose’s character is a little too Jacob Black?  My theory?  We changed Jacob to Jose and made him Hispanic rather than Native American.  Because Portland has such a HUGE Hispanic population….

3.  The contract.  Now, in a contemporary BDSM novel it is commonplace to show the negotiation between the Dominant and submissive.  Some even believe that it’s the responsibility of the author to show this as an educational tool.  You want people to be safe if they decide to try any of the BDSM play mentioned in the book.  So you show negotiation, rules, talk about safewords, etc.  And I have to say– James does a FANTASTIC job of emphasizing the safety involved in this type of relationship.  But did we need to read the ENTIRE TEN PAGES OF THE CONTRACT WORD FOR WORD?!  Just excerpts would have sufficed and the length was very tiresome.  This is where an editor could have stepped in and gotten it under control.

But overall, tonight I really enjoyed the chapters.  Perhaps I’ve been drawn in a little more this time. Who knows, but it made me want to keep reading.  Stay tuned, faithful readers, for tomorrow I plan to give you my thoughts AND a few things to read that are similar to 50 Shades but BETTER.  Cuz I know that now you’ve had a taste of the BDSM Erotic Romance, you’ll be hungry for more…


I’m available for questioning at the following locales:

The Southern Belle from Hell:


Fan Page on Facebook:!/pages/Lexxx-Christian-The-Southern-Belle-from-Hell/245839382102904


In case you didn’t know by now, I’m an author of (mostly) paranormal erotic romance. You can find my work in your favorite eBook format at: Barnes and Noble, Amazon, Bookstrand and AllRomance eBooks

Fifty Shades of WTF!!??! Pt. 4— This Time It’s Personal

Sorry it’s been so long since the last 50 Shades post, but I was a bit busy.  I’m always so ambitious about blogging and writing during Con weekends, but I never manage to get around to it.  Anyhow, I dutifully finished my chapter tonight and am now ready to release all my feelings about it.  And there are quite a few, so I won’t tarry.

Today I’ll start with what I did like about the chapter.  Once again, Christian’s character doesn’t fail to disappoint.  The author does a great job of making us swoon for Grey even as Bella.. I mean, Ana… yeah.. Ana…is drooling over him.  I really  like his reactions to Ana.  Definitely the reaction all us girls would like to get from our men.  Not afraid to show his pleasure.  I liked that.  I also liked how believeable, for once, Ana was the morning after.  That’s exactly what I would have done– gone into his kitchen and made breakfast for myself.  Though I’d probably never cook in a stranger’s kitchen, but I thought it was a nice little segue.

But enough of that…on to my WTF?! moments…

The chapter opens the morning after her first sexual experience with Grey… or with anyone for that matter.  It follows the traditional pattern until she starts talking about her “bathroom needs.”  That just made me go eeeww… We really didn’t need to know about that.  At least not in the same paragraph where she was talking about how beautiful and sexy Grey is.

I thought the general concept of a sexy mutual bath was pretty good, but I had some logistical issues.  In fact, they bothered me so much that I had to ask my guy friends about it.  Unless Grey is in the Guiness Book of World Records– if he’s sitting in a tub, wouldn’t his cock be submerged in the water?  And assuming it was… if she went down on him… she’d drown.  “Oh my, Mr. Grey… glug glug glug.”  The end.  Maybe I didn’t read it correctly, but I’m not sure that this scene was physically possible.  And the part where he used the pigtails as handlebars just made me laugh out loud.

We had a few more disturbing instances of Ana’s inner voices.  This time it was the Inner Goddess dancing the merengue with salsa moves that kind of got to me.  These little descriptors would be fine and even entertaining in one isolated spot, but she uses this over and over and over.  We had more “oh my”s and “down there”s and it seemed to just infuriate me each time.  I should lighten up a bit.

Anyway, stay tuned for tomorrow’s installment of WTF?!!s.  Smoke may actually come out of my ears.  So last time, I closed with a little piece of my latest novel, Beast of Burden.  This time I figured, since this chapter of 50 Shades was all about oral, I’d give a little bit of oral education from my first novel Hellsong.


She sat back on her heels and pulled the opening wider until he heard the seam give way. He was dazed as he raised his body again, letting her draw the pants over his hip and down. Her smile changed to something more primal as she stared down at his sex, now fully exposed. He could tell she was impressed by the unabashed way she gasped and stared down at it. Like the rest of him, it was perfect in its construction, carved from what could only be marble from the floor of Heaven. His skin was pale and unblemished, warm to the touch, nearly burning.

He watched as she ran her fingertips over the length, as if trying to memorize each nuance of flesh. He groaned, inviting her kisses and she obliged, dipping her head low and curiously pressing her lips to a spot just above his sex. He groaned again and she lingered on the spot, trilling the tip of her tongue in agonizingly slow circles. He could feel the blood rushing just under the skin and, for the first time in recent memory, he felt alive. She pulled back, hovering over him and breathing moist air against his skin. “I promise to spare your soul,” she whispered before devouring his sex completely.


I won’t keep going, as then there would be no point, but be sure to check out this and all my other works on Amazon, AllRomance Ebooks, B&, Bookstrand and anyplace where quality eBooks are sold.

Happy reading!

50 Shades of WTF?!: PART 2

…or would that be 51 Shades of WTF?!… anyway.  So I finished another chapter tonight and in turn have more observations of my journey through a national sensation.  Or epidemic.

Again I was struck by the Young Adult quality of the heroine.  For those of you that have not read 50 Shades (all 5 of you), the main character is Anastasia Steele (whose actually named that anyway?! WTF?!), a woman in her early twenties who is about to graduate from college.  So why is it that all of her “inner subconscious thoughts” seem to be coming from the head of a 16 year old?  Now I understand that we’re supposed to get that she’s this untouched flower and the author is playing up her innocence.  But phrases like “double crap” just really take me out of the story.  It confuses me, as a reader, because I can’t get a good picture of Ana.  I’m seeing her as my 16 year old goddaughter,  not a grown woman.  We’re also supposed to believe that Ana is an English Lit major.  My sister, Lucy Blue (author of My Demon’s Kiss among other things), holds a master’s degree in English.  More specifically, in Literature.  Anyone that’s ever spoken to her would agree that she has a tone that exudes sophistication and intelligence.  Most people that would study such hefty subjects are academics.  Academics have an arrogant wit about them that our Ana clearly lacks.  They’d also have enough foresight to read interview questions before blurting them out (i.e.– “Are you gay, Mr. Grey?”).

Anyway, I don’t mean to rant constantly about how horrible this book is.  It isn’t horrible.  Obviously it’s done something right, as it’s sold millions of copies.  The story is intriguing and I find myself wanting to read more.  Which I suppose is the mark of a good book right?