SEXCERPT Time– Hellsong by Alexandra Christian

Yes, I did spell that correctly.  Time for a little sexy excerpt (see what I did there?) from my #newrelease from #EllorasCave!  Uggh… I hate hashtags, but some genius computer person thinks they’re necessary.  Whatever.  Here’s a sexy little excerpt from Hellsong.  I do believe in taking a test drive before you buy the car…



She shuddered, feeling dizzy at the warmth of his breath. She could feel his eyelashes against her cheek and she turned her head slightly. He took this as an invitation and brushed his parted lips against her temple, kissing her eyes, then the crest of her cheek and down the narrow path of bone to her lips. She couldn’t help herself from opening her mouth to him, letting his tongue delve inside to play against her teeth.

She sank deeper into his embrace, arching her body upward to offer more of her mouth to his fevered kiss. His arms wrapped around her tighter, his hands resting on the corners of her hips, then drifting lower to the rounded flesh of her bottom. She groaned softly when he squeezed, using the leverage to press her body tighter against his. “What are you?” she whispered against his lips.

“You know what I am,” he growled, forcing her against the window frame, pinning her between the rough wood and his body.

“This can’t be real,” she gasped as his mouth found the hollow of her throat.

“Say it,” he ordered, his voice gravelly with arousal. He twisted his fingertips into her hair, pulling her head back to bite at the overheated flesh. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Angel,” she whimpered, getting lost in the feel of his mouth traveling over the contours of her collarbone and shoulders. “Angel,” she repeated in a breathless whisper. “You must be…” She groaned, cradling his head against her chest. His hair slipped through her fingertips like late summer corn silk and she twisted the strands around her fingers.

Saraqael smiled in a way that conveyed utter relief as he fell to his knees before her. He rested his hands on either side of her waist, his thumbs digging in to the fleshy hips, keeping her still above him. The sloppy, button-down shirt she wore was open, showing a hint of the concave of her belly just over the waistband of her jeans. He used the tip of his nose to open the folds and press his lips to her skin. Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to stifle the moan when his tongue delved into the hollow of her navel suggestively. “Fallen?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“Not yet, but I’m sure you’ll work harder, Daemon. I used to be the Archangel Uriel,” he whispered, brushing his generous lips over the curves of her hips. “And when I was sent to Earth, I became the Grigori.” He watched her reactions, taking in each nuance as his fingertips trilled over her skin—higher and higher the crept. Her breath came in short gasps, her skin prickling at his touch. When his fingers reached the smooth satin of her bra, she felt a jolt of fire between her legs. And when his palm found the center, she feared that the flames would devour her.

“Perhaps it is you who is the demon,” she groaned.

He smiled and ran his hand over her sternum. “Perhaps I’m seducing you for my own sport.”

“Not very angelic, Grigori.”

He did not respond but straightened to his full kneeling height. With a careless gesture, he pulled the shirt open, letting the buttons fly carelessly. The cool night air from the window made goose bumps pop out all over, pulling her skin taut. Before she had time to complain about it, the warmth oozed over her body as his hands found their way under the satin barrier covering her breasts. His rough, calloused palm scratched against her nipple, making it harden immediately. She whimpered with the sudden heaviness and arched her body toward his.


Damn.  I love that Saraqael.  He’s just… rawwrrr… He’s one of three “men” in that book that are just… rawwrr.  Have I mentioned I like men?  A lot?



Hello kittens!  It’s my release day and I’ve had way too much coffee already.  So I thought I’d start by posting a little blurb about Hellsong, just to give you a taste of my madness.  There’s also a link to the Ellora’s Cave store AND the Hellsong_ECAmazon page so that you can go forth and purchase, share or just LIKE if you’re short of funds and time.  Maybe later I’ll even post a picture of myself in a dog collar suckin’ a riding crop…


Theo is a child of the storm, found wandering after the hurricane that devastated New Orleans, with no memory of her past. She’s made a quiet, contented existence for herself. But all that changes when two very different but equally compelling men come into her life.

Dantalion and Saraqael both want her body, and her soul. But there’s a much greater prize at stake. If she chooses right, she’ll find Heaven in the arms of an angel. If she chooses wrong, all Hell will be let loose on Earth.

A Romantica® horror erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave 

Buy Links:

Ellora’s Cave:

Amazon Kindle:

#newrelease #novel #erotic #romance #paranormal #angels #demons

Just Sluts with Pens

me and amy (2)Hello, denizens of the Interwebs!  It’s been a while since we chatted and I know you’ve been waiting with bated breath to see what I had to say next.  Well wait no more, here I am!  Well, it’s going to be an exciting Springtime for the old girl. Why, you ask?  Well, tomorrow 3/19/2014, I have a new release coming from Ellora’s Cave and, wonder of wonders, it’s my first novel length work with them!  It’s also my first foray into erotic horror with them, so we’ll see what happens.  So keep watch tomorrow for excerpts, blurbs and just general squee-ing.  I’ve also written a little article called “Velocirapture, the Rise of Crypto Porn” that will be featured in Jamais Vu– Journal of the Strange Among the Familiar, Issue 2.  It’s snarky and fun and I do hope that you’ll like it.

Well, with all that in the works, you’re probably wondering about the title of my little blog today.  Yes, I’m afraid another rant is coming your way.  I know you’ve missed them.  At any rate, yesterday I heard that some romance authors in my area were approached about a reality show that is set to focus on romance writers.  Now, I’m sure that what’s being pitched is a show that would feature “The Writer’s Life.”  But think about it, people.  Many of you reading this blog right now know that “the writer’s life” in actuality would probably not make a good reality show.  Watching me go to my day job, trying to write a sex scene in between answering the phone to say things like “no, I cannot excuse you from jury duty because you have an infected toenail.”  Sitting for hours on the couch with my dog, trying to write but instead succumbing to the swansong of Pinterest and Facebook.  Knowing that I need to write the next chapter of my novel when really all I want to do is write more Sherlock fanfiction.  Staring at a blank piece of paper while I sip yet another cup of tea.  These things would not be intriguing to the general public.  This is not glamorous.  Which makes me wonder– what is the show really going to be about?  I don’t know, but I have some guesses.

It may be because I’m jaded or because I’ve gotten the “oh, you write romance” look far too often.  You know the one.  The one that says 1) Romance novels… that’s not like real writing and 2) You must be a freak in bed!  But I’m very skeptical. I have visions of romance novelists being represented as desperate housewives who are writing up their sexual misadventures with the plumber.  I’m seeing camera crews following authors to conventions where they only manage to catch the parts where we’re sitting in the bar after a day of panels, knocking back some margaritas.  Maybe producers encouraging said authors to dance on tables while having lipstick lesbian encounters with other members of their caste.  Or worse, romance novelists being portrayed as frustrated librarians who can’t get boyfriends writing about their fantasies of watching homosexual couples whipping each other with riding crops.



In short, I’m afraid that reality television would perpetuate the myth that romance authors are “just sluts with pens.” Reality television isn’t solely to blame, of course.   After all, I have no idea if the show has even been greenlit.  I do spend an awful lot of time on Twitter and Facebook and see an awful lot of authors that, while talented, are so desperate to be noticed that they’re glad to project that slutty image (by the way, if you’re an author and my Facebook friend– I’m not referring to you) just to get attention.  Here’s a pro tip:  if your profile picture on Facebook shows you either A:  half dressed with your tits jacked to Jesus, or B:  wearing a collar and sucking a riding crop,  chances are folks aren’t interested in you for your books. And you’re degrading yourself and the rest of us who consider ourselves artists.  Those of us who work hard every day to craft a story that we can be proud of.  A story that is worthy of our readers.

Just a thought.

Coming up tomorrow:  A new release!  And a blog post entitled:  “If the words “dripping wet love hole” appear in your book, it’s probably not erotica.”


COVER REVEAL: Hellsong by Alexandra Christian

I have an amazing new cover to reveal today. It’s a new cover for an old-ish book. My very first novel, Hellsong, originally came out in October of 2010. Since then, I’ve been through some changes, I’ve learned a few things and (long story short) I switched publishers on this particular labor of love. It’s coming soon from Ellora’s Cave and I am positively vibrating with anticipation for you to see it. So without further ado….

Hellsong_ECIsn’t it just… inspirational?  That’s good because the book is all about an angel rescuing the demon in distress.  This book is also part of the Ellora’s Cave Shivers line of erotic horror.  So this edition of the book is going to really amp up the horror element.  All I have to say is get ready to put this one in the freezer…


Howloween Blog Hop: How Much is Too Much

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Welcome to Day 2 of the Howloween 2012 Blog Hop! I’ve had so much fun reading all your comments! Please know that I appreciate each and every one. I’m especially honored by all of the comments and messages saying “This sounds so good. I’m going to put this on my wish list.” I’m always amazed to know that there are people out there that like what I write. But… on to today’s topic…

So how much is too much? Anyone who knows me can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’ve never had too much of anything. I tend to indulge in most things to excess. Which brings me to why we’re here today. In your erotic horror/ paranormal romance—how much sex and blood is too much? Is there a point at which you say, “I can’t read this anymore,”? Of course there are varying degrees. My recent publications have been more on the sex and less on the blood. I haven’t delved into splatterpunk much in my relatively short career, but it’s a genre that is close to my heart. For those of you uneducated on the matter—splatterpunk is a genre that combines horror and erotica in violent and twisted ways. Splatterpunk isn’t really meant to titillate so much as to shock. The tales are generally graphically violent, explicitly sexual and shockingly detailed. Needless to say, I’m a big fan. However, it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. For some, they’d rather have the violence happen behind closed doors. Or at the very least have it brief and painless.

So where is that line? It seems to me in the media that the line gets blurrier and blurrier every day. And it’s almost always bent toward the violent side. For some reason, it is more socially acceptable to depict someone being decapitated by a flying cannonball than to show full on nudity and sex between two people who are obviously in love. The way I see it, one celebrates life and the other celebrates death. Which would you rather see?

The closest I’ve come, at least in my published works, to splatterpunk was in my first novel, Hellsong. In the prologue, one of the main characters is telling the story of how he watched his best friend devoured by a succubus. I chose to use imagery that was both horrific and primal. I wanted it to be graphic and shocking, but also strangely sexual. I’ll let you judge for yourself…


The first thing I noticed was the smell. Something like dead flowers and decayed earth just under the coppery smell of the blood, which was everywhere. It dripped from the walls and ran in pools across the floor until I could see the canvas of my old sneakers soaking it up. I gasped, unable to find my voice, but when the glass of gin in my hand dropped to the floor, it made a loud noise. The woman’s head whipped around from where she crouched on the bed. Her eyes glowed this impossible yellow color as she glared at me, but she did not speak. Her skin looked leathery and taut under the thick veil of Jackson’s blood. I started to move toward her, wanting to throw her off of my friend even though I was more scared than a man staring at Death himself.

She made kind of a hissing noise at me, baring a mouthful of sharpened pearl teeth. I wanted to scream, to run out of there as fast as I could, but as I turned, my foot caught on something, nearly throwing me down. When I looked down, I saw a mass of red cord wrapped around my ankle. As my eyes started to focus, I realized that the bloody mess was Jackson’s insides, coiled like a snake at my feet. I did scream then and stumbled backward, slipping in the blood and falling hard on my ass. The woman-thing on the bed laughed—a sickening rasping sound that echoes in my nightmares.

I tried to stand up, but I couldn’t get to my feet. I was blinded with alcohol and tears. I began crawling toward the door on my knees. I was sure that she was going to come after me, but then I heard an earsplitting shriek pulled from her throat. She got up on her haunches at the bed, staring hatefully at me as she bellowed again. I looked over my shoulder, sure that someone would come in and see, but no one did—her screams were lost over the symphony of moans and laughter in the corridor. I watched with morbid fascination as she sat straight up on her knees. Her clawed hands held onto the broken down bedpost as she grunted and writhed on the ruined sheets. Before I was sure what was happening, I heard another cry—this one more human.


Now remember, to enter into the contest two win your choice of one of my eBooks, you need to leave a comment here on the blog with your email addy. If you don’t feel comfy leaving it here, feel free to friend me on Facebook and send me a message there. I’d LOVE to hear from you anyway!

My books can be found at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks and anywhere quality eBooks are sold.

If I’ve piqued your interest or if you just want to come point and laugh, I can be found at the following locales:


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Wicked After Dark: Blurb-a-palooza!

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Well hey there kids!  I’ve decided today to give you some blurbs to whet your appetite and let you know a little about me and what I do.  My fiction has been called a bit unusual by some.  I never liked romance as a younger woman because I always felt that the stories were so sicky-sweet, too good to be true.  I just couldn’t relate to the characters, but I did like the hot-blooded romance aspet of it.  So when I started writing, I was determined to write the kind of romance that I’d like to read.  One that isn’t sicky sweet and unbelievable, but one with imperfect heroines and dangerous heroes.  I’ve always loved anything paranormal and spooky, so paranormal romance seemed the way to go.  Of course I couldn’t just stop there– I had to make sure that the story was laced with explicit scenes of really hot monkey-lovin’.  Cuz well… that’s the most fun to write.  So I’m going to give you an offering of some of my darkest paranormal romances and you can decide for yourself.

Strange Bedfellows:  Three to Tango

“…vampires can be dangerous to your health.”
A truer statement had never been uttered, but when Cali stumbled upon The Oubliette, she began to realize the wisdom in those words. Broken-hearted and bored, Cali’s life had become a string of TV dinners and romance novels. She wondered where her life was going until she followed the mysterious stranger through the red door and entered a world that few would ever know existed. A world of vampires, werewolves and pleasure beyond imagination. Within the walls of The Oubliette, Cali will embark on a dangerous and sensual journey of discovery that will change her life forever.
Sanguine Kiss
Vengeance is only the beginning…
Gillian Thompson wants to end her life. Deserted by her lover and desperate for peace, she thinks that death is the only answer. But life never closes one door without opening a window. On a fateful night, the one that should be her last, she meets the dark and mysterious Seth, who seems to understand the depth of her pain. Rather than let her kill herself, he offers Gillian a new life beyond pain and regret. A life bathed in bloody kisses and bittersweet vengeance.
Second Skin
When Catherine Spencer meets the seductive Jack Leannan at her company dinner party, she could never have imagined how fast she’d fall for him. He’s everything her husband isn’t—older, confident, and highly sexual. He lures her under his spell with promises of passion beyond her wildest dreams, and she finds herself ready to give up everything. But Jack is no ordinary lover, and the secret he harbors could destroy her.
“What’s your fantasy?”

Blythe McLachlan had the perfect life until the night he said those three little words that could make or break a relationship.  When Blythe tells her husband about her fantasy of a hot menage, he’s less than pleased. But when he drops her off at a mysterious masquerade ball, she finds
that the boundaries of love can be crossed and rules are made to be broken.

Can mercy be a sin?
Lonely bookstore manager Theo Chandler lost herself in Hurricane Katrina. Found wandering alone in a swamp with no memory of her life before the storm, she has spent the last few years building a half-life where no one touches her so no one can guess her secret. Only Father Jerome, a voodoo priest who witnessed her birth, and the minions of Lucifer know her true identity and the monster she could become.
As the last of the Grigori, Heaven’s guardians of humankind on Earth, the angel Saraquel should destroy beautiful Theo before the forces of Hell use her to destroy him, humanity, or even Heaven itself. But like Jerome, he sees the humanity in her that far outshines the hidden demon. He forms a connection to her that he has never known with anyone else through all his immortal life. Choosing to protect her, he joins Theo and Jerome in a fight to bring down hell’s design and save her human soul.

My books can be found  at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks and anywhere quality eBooks are sold.

If I’ve piqued your interest or if you just want to come point and laugh, I can be found at the following locales:


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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!