Exclusive Excerpt: Marriage Training

 

The history books and historical fiction have taught us that a sense of propriety, etiquette, and honor, especially among the higher echelons of society, was expected in decades and centuries past, especially in Victorian era England. Ironically, like our adolescent selves being “unfairly” told “No” by a demanding authority figure that just did not understand, the desire to rebel was strong. Truth be told, people from all social classes engaged in a plethora of erotic delights. After all, there was a LOT of erotica floating around back then for citizens, lords, and ladies, but you certainly won’t read about that in most history books!

We can only imagine what actually happened behind those closed doors…

Perhaps this is why it is so fun to imagine life in times past, and why its even more fun to imagine the erotic lives of those very same people who were held captive by propriety during the day, only to let their darkest desires silently creep through the dark, back alleys of high society well after the sun had set. This is the exact reason why Marriage Training by Golden Angel is such a treat. Reading this book is like an erotic thrill-ride that leaves you on the edge between being caught in the act and getting away with doing something you know you shouldn’t do, but is something you most urgently desire.

Enjoy this delicious excerpt that introduces you to the main characters, Vivan Stafford, an innocent, social neophyte, and Lord Gabriel Cecil, Earl of Cranborne, an experienced rake with a seriously alluring dominant streak.

In the late hours of the evening, the glittering facade of London’s finest gave way to a decadent, erotic underbelly of depraved lust, if one knew where to look for it. Lord Gabriel Cecil, Earl of Cranborne and son of the Marquess of Salisbury, never had to look very far—it was always around him. Known as the Dark Angel to the ton for his darkly handsome good looks, piercing, green-flecked grey eyes, rakish pursuits, and sinful reputation, he knew they didn’t have the slightest inkling how far his passions took him. There were others within the ton with the same . . . interests. It was at those private gatherings, those intimate parlors, where he would meet with his friends—many of whom were the sons and daughters of his father’s friends.

Tonight’s private party was in celebration of George Howard’s wedding on the morrow to his fiancée, Mary Dermont. The women draped about the room in various states of undress were not whores, but ladies and expensive mistresses with particular tastes. Some of them had their husbands or protectors with them, some of them did not, but they were all there for the same thing.

Already the gathering had begun to devolve into licentiousness. An earl was braced over the back of a sofa as his mistress whipped him with a crop while he begged for more. In the far corner, the Duke of Marbury was engaged in a passionate kiss with his lover, a young man by the name of Vincent Pennybrooke, while his mistress had both of their cocks in hand and was taking each of them into her mouth in turns. Somehow, the erotic antics around the room weren’t quite as titillating or as appealing as they had been in the past. There was something lacking in the interactions; rather than enjoying them, Gabriel felt more and more disconnected from the actions and the pleasure.

“Gabriel, you made it!” George Howard’s voice boomed out behind him, just before a hand came down on his shoulder.

Turning, Gabriel couldn’t help but grin at his friend. Lord Winchester—George—was the opposite of Gabriel in looks, with his straw-blond hair and blue eyes, and his opposite in temperament as well, except at parties such as these. Where Gabriel tended towards solitude and impatience, George was tolerant and a bon vivant; where Gabriel was cutting and disdainful, George was witty and cheerful. Only in the confines of these parties, or the bedroom, did George’s more authoritative, stern side come out.

“George, Mary,” Gabriel said, giving a short bow to the petite young woman tucked into George’s arm. With her pale hair and grey eyes, Mary Dermont looked quite delicate, but Gabriel knew she wasn’t—otherwise, George would never be marrying her. Those pale eyes took in the debauchery around the room without flinching. In fact, when her eyes landed upon the duke’s erotic trio, they positively lit up.

“Oh my,” she murmured, leaning into her husband-to-be even closer. George and Gabriel both turned to see where she was looking, and George chuckled. The duke and Pennybrooke had ended their own kiss and now held the duke’s mistress between them. Her dress, flimsy though it was, was bunched around her midsection, baring her breasts for her benefactor to play with while Pennybrooke was on his knees before her, holding up her skirt and eagerly lapping at the juncture of her thighs. “How . . . intriguing. I never knew . . .”

Mary’s interest piqued Gabriel’s, as if he could see the tableau through her eyes and appreciate it because she did. The tawdriness slid away, and he could see what might interest her about the duchess’s pleasure in her two men.

“Is that what you’d like tonight, my dear?” George asked, nuzzling his lips against her hair. “Two lovers paying attention to you?” Catching Gabriel’s eye, he smiled. “I’ve promised her whatever she likes tonight, as a wedding present.”

Giving a delicate little shiver of arousal, Mary smiled up at her soon-to-be husband before looking back at the amorous trio. “Mrs. Cunningham’s school never talked about anything like that . . . but no, thank you, darling. It is quite delightful to watch, though, isn’t it?”

Her voice wobbled slightly, her attention turning back to her betrothed, as if seeking his approval for her interest in the scene. The inherent submissiveness in her need for his permission struck a chord with Gabriel, giving way to a moment of envy. While he might play with the women at these gatherings, and they would submit for the time, none of them looked to him for approval the way Mary was currently looking at George. Even with a mistress, there hadn’t been that kind of connection between him and another woman, not the way he could see it between George and Mary. Perhaps that was the difference; there would always be an end to a mistress’s attentions, but a man could keep his wife forever.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw George lean down and whisper in Mary’s ear. The two of them were already lost in their own little world, totally involved in each other. The other exchanges were so much less intimate—people brought together by common needs and desires rather than tangible emotion, like that between George and his fiancée.

 

The next morning, Gabriel found himself more envious of George than ever. His own night had been rather unsatisfying. Just another mutual evening of using each other’s bodies to find what they wanted . . . nothing like the connection he’d seen between Mary and George. Mary was passionate, eager, entirely submissive, and completely connected to her fiancé.

A virginal harlot.

The idea piqued his interest in a way nothing else had for quite some time.

Mary’s very newness, her innocent passion, was something to be envied, but it was the way they looked at each other that Gabriel had found himself wanting the most. In some ways it reminded him of his father and stepmother, whose loving relationship he had always thought to emulate once he married. Of course, he’d always thought of marriage as being a very distant thing, for some time in the future . . .

Now, he felt a strange stirring as he contemplated George’s forthcoming nuptials. So far, though, he hadn’t met any woman with whom he’d want to enter that state.

Not that he’d truly been looking. His interactions with women had been confined to the wild parties he attended or the occasional events he was required to attend with his family. None of the debutantes he’d encountered during the latter had incited the slightest hint of lust in him, but perhaps he’d been unfair in his observations. After all, they were all virgins and not looking to provoke desire; they were looking for marriage. Perhaps if he took a closer look at some young, unmarried ladies, he could find a hidden gem like Mary.

 

The wedding was a stunning affair, packed with members of society. As the blushing bride was kissed by her husband, murmurs of approval for the union were heard all around. Everyone remarked on how sweet Mary was. A few gentlemen made some ribald jokes about how that sweetness wouldn’t last after tonight. She was so pure and fresh-looking, as if even the knowledge of sexual relations had never touched her. Little did they all know.

Gabriel’s own unrest had continued today, as he’d looked through the throngs of well-wishers at the wedding breakfast, wondering if he’d ever find a woman to whom he could commit himself. The idea of the usual, bloodless, ton marriage had even less appeal to him now that he saw George’s happiness. He craved it for himself.

The marquess, his father, had been wildly in love with Gabriel’s mother until she passed, and he was now just as in love with and satisfied by Audrey, Gabriel’s stepmother. Certain inclinations, especially in the bedroom, had been passed down from father to son, and Gabriel didn’t see why, if his father could find such satisfaction twice, he shouldn’t be able to find it for himself at least once.

Doing his best to avoid the giggling debutantes, he made his way through the crowd towards his own circle. Many of the young ladies at the breakfast were just out of the schoolroom and eager to catch a husband, and weddings always made them and their mamas more aggressive.

On his way to the safety of his circle of friends, he stopped to congratulate George. His friend looked at him with just a bit of concern in his eyes. “Sorry about last night, old chap. We looked up and realized you were gone. I hope you didn’t feel too left out.”

“No, just envious,” Gabriel said, teasingly, but also truthfully. “Mary is absolutely delightful. Best keep an eye on her so I don’t steal her away.”

George chuckled. “Doubtful. My Mary loves me too much, and I her.”

“She’s quite the treasure.” The envy in his voice was palpable, however hard he tried to hide it.

“It’s the school,” George said, grinning widely. “Best investment I ever made, that finishing school. Gave me the perfect bride, and unlike most gents, I’m actually going to thoroughly enjoy my wedding night. And all the nights thereafter.”

Unfortunately, they weren’t able to talk any further as George was pulled away by another well-wisher. Gabriel let him go, knowing his friend would be trapped doing the social rounds for the rest of the breakfast, until he was able to escape with Mary.

Sighing internally, Gabriel dodged several frothy skirts of respectable young misses and managed to reach the safe haven of his friends. Flirting with a rake was a dangerous pastime for debutantes, but there were always a few fascinated by men of his reputation. He had no interest in them, although he was starting to wonder if perhaps he’d written debutantes off too quickly. In the past, he’d always thought when he married, it would be to an adventurous young widow, or perhaps a young woman with an already ruined reputation. However, if he could secure a marriage with a debutante like Mary . . . well, that would be an entirely different matter altogether.

The idea appealed to him, especially after last night. Gabriel wanted a passionate wife who looked at him with the same focused tenderness that Mary had for George, the same adoration and love. He also wanted one who was well-matched to his particular proclivities.

As he pondered the conundrum, his attention barely on the conversation between his friends about the latest horse race, a bright flash of red caught his eye. Not crimson like a rose, but the fiery orange-red of a sunrise. Quite beautiful and eye-catching, although red hair was supposedly unlucky. The sunrise-red stood out like a beacon through the more subdued shades and the boring pastel dresses of the other debutantes.

Intrigued, Gabriel shifted his position so that he had a better view of the owner of the sunrise hair.

She was young, too young to have her hair up, which meant that she wasn’t out of the schoolroom quite yet, but old enough that she would be very soon. Definitely she was of the age when the young misses started planning their debuts and tactics for husband-hunting. The glorious bounty of locks was pulled back from her face, showing off her quiet beauty. She was wearing a pale green dress, which covered her trim little figure completely, but hinted at the woman she would become. Her pale, youthful face was pretty, almost like a doll’s, with brilliant green eyes, a straight nose, and a rosebud mouth. Quite striking, all put together, but her looks weren’t what held his attention.

It was the way she was sitting. Her eyes were downcast, properly, as a young lady’s should be, but unlike most young ladies, she wasn’t peeking through her eyelashes at the people around her. Instead, she seemed content to sit at her mother’s side, only speaking when directly addressed, a small smile on her face. At one point, particularly raucous laughter nearby drew her attention to a group of young rowdies, and she looked up, but when her mother reached out and put her hand on her daughter’s arm, the young woman returned to her previous pose. More importantly, she did so without the slightest hint of resentment at the direction; in fact, she gave every evidence of relief at her mother’s guidance.

Submissive? Or just well-behaved?

Certainly, she was different from the other young ladies, who simpered at their mothers’ commands but were otherwise resentful of their elders’ attempts to rein in their behavior. Her composure was intriguing, as were the sweet smiles she directed to the company around her. Despite several attempts by the nearby rowdies to get her attention—and Gabriel was sure it was her attention they were after—she didn’t glance at them again. Many young ladies would be flattered by such antics and would try to escape their mothers’ attention; he’d seen it time and time again. Women who were drawn to the excitement of rakes either ended up ruined or married to respectable men only to bear them an heir or two and then spend the rest of their lives enjoying rakes in their beds.

Definitely not the kind of marriage Gabriel wanted. As an accomplished seducer himself, he didn’t in general relish the idea of a woman who was constantly after the attentions of men. Seeing the young redhead actually following her mother’s direction and ignoring the young men was a novelty.

Gabriel moved closer, stealthily, still watching her every move. He knew part of his interest was because of Mary’s example, as he normally would have no interest in a young innocent who hadn’t even officially come out to society yet, but it didn’t stymie him now. Despite the young woman’s youth, she was old enough to attend the wedding, which meant she would probably be making her come-out next season. Besides, he truly doubted his sudden fascination would last past a few minutes of close observation.

As he watched, the young woman waited patiently to catch her mother’s eye, and then leaned in to murmur something. Her mother nodded and the young woman stood gracefully. Perhaps she wasn’t different from other young ladies at all; she was going to escape her mother now.

Instead of the expected walk that would take her by the laughing young men, she turned in the direction of the ladies’ retiring room. There were no sly glances to any of the men, no invitation in her eyes. Was she truly everything she seemed?

Completely losing interest in the conversation going on around him, Gabriel slid away from his friends, stalking after the young redhead like a hunter through a forest.

She was headed straight to the retiring room, and he was within a few feet of her when she tripped over something on the floor and stumbled against George’s back as he and Mary moved away from a conversation with one of the guests. George and Mary turned around, catching her from falling over completely, and Mary smiled delightedly at the young woman. Fortunately, Gabriel was close enough to listen in to the conversation. He prudently shifted his stance so he could still study the young woman without appearing to actually be looking at her.

“Vivian! Are you all right, dear?”

“Yes, Mary,” she said, blushing deeply. The pretty pink on her cheeks clashed adorably with her fiery hair, Gabriel thought. Quite enchanting. Vivian, as he surmised that was her name, looked up at George. “I’m so sorry, Lord Winchester, please excuse my clumsiness.”

George smiled genially down at her. “No need to apologize, it’s a complete crush in here.”

Reassured by his demeanor, Vivian’s lovely green eyes lowered again. Gabriel was charmed as the red in her cheeks actually deepened at George’s reassurance. She was relieved. Pleased. Trusting.

Gorgeously, naturally submissive. Sweetly innocent. He felt the urge to move even closer to her. There was something indefinably seductive about her, and not just in an erotic sense. Something about her called to him, intriguing him, even though he’d only just seen her. Gabriel had always scoffed at the notion of love at first sight. However, attraction or interest at first sight he couldn’t deny, because he was currently experiencing it.

That she wasn’t presented was a small dilemma, as he couldn’t even ask for a formal introduction yet, much less court her.

But she could be worth waiting for. . .

Marriage Training by Golden Angel is available today everywhere books and ebooks are sold. Or, even better, support your local independent bookstore and place your order through them!

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Guest post from author Autumn Bardot (ft. a Bonus Excerpt from Legends of Lust!)

 

This month Cleis Press is proud to bring you not only a delicious excerpt from Autumn Bardot’s debut collection of short stories, Legends of Lust: Erotic Myths from around the World, but also the inspiration behind her writing – her passion for history, myth, and travel. We will start things off with an excerpt from Autumn’s blog about a recent trip to the Greek Isles. After we’ve gotten you in the scenic mood, you’ll find an excerpt from “By Sword Tip,” an epically arousing encounter between the Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta, and the ancient hero, Theseus.

Sexy vacations. Who doesn’t want to go on one?  Actually, any vacation is sexy in my book. I get to visit a new place, learn history, sample different foods, and pretend, if only for a week, that I am a globetrotting Jetsetter. I get to unwind, spend some quality time with hubby, and explore the world beyond our little corner of Southern California.

One of my favorite vacation destinations so far was rambling the countryside of Kalamata, Greece. We went with another couple. Leah spoke pretty good Greek—or so she thought until she conversed with the natives! Oh, and during the flight over the pond Leah read a very early version of “By Sword Tip”, one of the short stories from Legends of Lust (excerpt featured below).

Kalamata. Sounds familiar? Yep, that’s right. That’s where all those yummy Kalamata olives come from.

We went a week before high season, so the rates were low and the Aegean not yet warm. But no way did a little brisk water stop us from swimming. It was warm once you were in for a few minutes.

This was the view from our room. Stunning, right?

We made a three-hour side trip to Athens to see the Acropolis. O.M.G.  I wanted to sit there all day and bask in the aura of ancient gods, goddesses, muses, and nymphs. Hubby asked the tour guide all kinds of questions. I merely wanted to feel its history. And if it had been possible, I would have sat down with my laptop and pounded out several stories.

I was in awe. Tried to imagine how the Acropolis looked in all its glory, before time and wars had left it a mere skeleton, only the bones left for us to admire.

I tried to imagine the people milling about….their voices and songs to the gods…

Here I was, standing amid history, among the very buildings dedicated to the gods of Greek mythology!

“Shhh,” I told hubby, “I want to hear the gods.”

“You’re weird,” he smiled and began reading the informational placard in front of Zeus’ temple.

Then after the muses took pity on me and whispered a few story ideas, we looked out over the Acropolis hilltop and marveled at the view of Athens from our vantage point.

We spend about three hours wondering the Acropolis. And sadly, we arrived too late to tour the museum at the base of the Acropolis, which I heard is fabulous.

“Are you history buffs?” asked our petite, curly-haired, perfectly English speaking tour guide as we set off in her BMW SUV up the Peloponnese coast. “I can talk for hours and give you all the local history if you like.”

“Yes!” Four eager tourists shouted.

The blood of the ancient Spartans runs through the Mani people who live in the Peloponnese countryside. They were a tough people living in a harsh land too arid and rocky for farming.

The Mani is a culture of blood feuds, kick ass warriors, fierce family loyalty, and about a million miles (well, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration) of waist high rock walls built helter skelter to divide their wee bit of property.

Those are my olive trees, not yours!

Yes, our tour guide said, blood was spilled over olive trees and boundary lines.

We stopped at Diros where we climbed onto small boats, and rowers guided us through the waist-deep water into a confusing maze of gorgeous caves.

There are many sunken pirate ships in the small bays along the coast. A haven for scuba divers. From the road above we could see a few of them.

We dined on Aegean fish caught that day by local fisherman, gorged on succulent enormous octopus, slurped delicious Greek coffee, supped on many local Greek dishes, drank too much ouzo, and danced the night away at a local Greek club.

I guess the muses worked overtime on this writer, because I got several solid stories ideas from the trip. Any trip that provides that kind of fun and creativity is definitely SEXY!

Hippolyta, at his immediate right, could scarcely keep her eyes off of Theseus as they marched to the palace. He was a strapping man, taller than she, and with a presence so commanding she knew the stories about him must be true. Here was a man who might be worthy of her respect. Even more so because not once did he leer at the warriors’ shapely buttocks swaying back and forth in front of him.

Hippolyta inhaled his scent, a blend of sea and air and male, that for some strange reason she found quite enticing. She snuck peeks at Theseus’s hands. They were large and muscular, with thick fingers and clean, square-shaped nails. Hands that were more suitable for pummeling a Minotaur to death than writing treaties or caressing a lover. She imagined what such powerful hands might feel like on her body, then looked away, horrified by her lewd thoughts. Theseus was just a man! And men were…well, Amazons had no use for men.

When they entered the great chamber, the squadron moved into formation, rows of Amazons at attention in front of Hippolyta’s lion-skin throne.

Theseus stood before the vacant throne while Hippolyta, standing with her squad, waited for him to grow impatient. He did not. In fact, Theseus never shifted his weight or clenched his fists.

The Amazons stood silent as statues, a show of military training that Hippolyta knew Theseus would appreciate. After a few noiseless minutes, Hippolyta issued a silent “at ease” and strode past Theseus to sit on her throne.

Theseus bent down on one knee and dropped his chin.

“Arise,” said Hippolyta.

Theseus stood, his handsome face and confident stance indicating nothing less than utmost respect.

Hippolyta felt a strange heat creep into her cheeks. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I had to meet the illustrious Queen Hippolyta.” Theseus’s bright blue eyes pierced her regal demeanor.

“You’ve met me. Now you may leave.” Hippolyta shifted about. The man unsettled her, his gaze too penetrating for comfort.

Theseus rubbed his bearded chin. “I had hoped you would be interested in discussing our common interests.”

“What are those?” Hippolyta rested her hands on either side of the throne, her long fingers dangling over the arm in seeming disinterest.

“We are both bold leaders seeking to enrich the lives of our people, we are both skilled warriors who thirst for adventure and conquest, and we both have mutual acquaintances. Surely, a multitude of topics might warrant any number of discussions.” Theseus touched his chest. “I, for one, would enjoy hearing your side of the whole Hercules girdle-stealing incident.”

Hippolyta tilted her head. “Why?”

“Hercules is proud. And pride and truth are poor companions.”

“Ah, so you are a seeker of truth.”

“Truth, as you well know, comes in many guises.”

“A philosopher king,” Hippolyta teased, her dimpled smile taking Theseus by surprise. “I also seek truth.” She leaned forward. “Join me for dinner and explain those adventures of yours that are beyond belief.”

“I would be honored.”

Their eyes locked, not as two rulers vying for dominance but as two people confessing their attraction.

Melanippe went to Theseus’s side. “I’ll show you to your chambers.”

As Theseus was ushered from the great chamber, he looked over his shoulder to steal another glance at the Amazon queen. She was fierce and sexy. A heart-breaking combination.

Once the warriors departed, Hippolyta joined her mother on the balcony.

“Mate with him,” said Otrera.
“Mother!” Hippolyta sat on the low stone wall. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think about it. The man oozes sex, and he’s far superior to any of the Gargareans we visit in the spring.”

“He is well built.” Hippolyta threw her legs over the wall and stared at the sea. Just thinking about the size of his muscular thighs caused a rare stirring.

“It’s time you had a daughter,” said Otrera after giving her daughter time to consider her suggestion.

Melanippe joined them on the balcony. “I locked Theseus in the room.” She gave the key to Hippolyta. “Is dinner to be a formal affair?”

Formality meant braided hair and wearing heavy dresses from head to toe.

“No, informal attire.” Hippolyta straddled the wall. “Let’s see how the noble Theseus handles a roomful of breasts and legs.”

 

Not tempted enough? Check out the book trailer!

Legends of Lust is available for purchase at all eBook retailers. Or feel free to purchase a copy at your local bookstore!

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Announcing renowned health coach Jessica Cording’s new book on wellness, diet, and mental health!

 

Jessica Cording is no stranger to health, wellness, nutrition, and dieting!

Jessica Cording, MS, RD, CDN, INHC is a registered dietitian, health coach, and writer with a passion for helping people streamline their wellness routine and establish a balanced relationship with food and exercise. She is a frequent contributor to Forbes and SHAPE, among other publications. Through her writing, consulting, public speaking, and counseling, she works with individuals, corporations, and the media to help make drama-free healthy living approachable and enjoyable.

Viva Editions is proud to announce her forthcoming new book…

The Little Book of Game Changers: 50 Healthy Habits for Managing Stress and Anxiety (January 2020):

For anyone burdened by stress and anxiety, just the thought of trying to make a positive life change can feel utterly overwhelming. Wanting to live a healthier life may sound easy, but what about the time needed for meal prepping? What about the added meal plan costs to your budget? Do you have to wake up at dawn to take that meditation class? When you are surrounded by stress, it’s all too easy to completely derail yourself…with more stress. Life is hard enough—the road to a stress-free life should feel easy!

Dietitian and health coach Jessica Cording is here with one simple solution: focus on healthy living for your real life. Just like you, she doesn’t have time for a step-by-step plan or a one-size-fits-all, gimmicky solution to all your stress- or anxiety-related health and wellness problems. Cording’s short, simple, no-nonsense advice will help you make healthy choices to improve eating habits, sleep, energy levels, mentalities, and exercise routines. These 50 mind, body, and spirit hacks will dial down the drama and find workable ways to nurture health and wellness when life gets real.

Cording’s insight and experience will have you laughing, rolling your eyes with her, and exclaiming “Aha!” more than once. This book is for anyone and everyone who wants to chill the heck out and feel a little—or a lot—better. Watch out health and wellness goals—we’re coming at you with some game changers!

Jessica is available for interview and comment about her current work, her forthcoming book, or to weigh in as an expert on any matter relating to health, wellness, nutrition, and dieting.

 

The cover for this book is forthcoming, but will be available soon!

 

THE LITTLE BOOK OF GAME CHANGERS:

50 Healthy Habits for Managing Stress & Anxiety

By Jessica Cording, MS, RD, CDN, INHC

Diet & Nutrition/Stress Management/Spiritual/Self-Help | Trade Paperback Original | 224 pp

Viva Editions | January 2020

ISBN: 9781632280688 | eISBN: 9781632281241 | $16.95

 

Exclusive Excerpt: Until Autumn Falls

 

We’ve read the previous stories of Sophie and Mont in Until Summer Ends and of Jared and Millie in Until Winter Breaks. Now it’s time to return to Redwood Bay, a sleepy little Pacific Northwestern fishing town that may appear calm and quiet on the outside, but supplies us with non-stop, drama-bespotted, contemporary romances.

Here is a little sample of what you can expect from the burgeoning romance between Tripp Thurgood, a lifetime resident of Redwood Bay, and mysterious newcomer and fishmonger, Hilary Finnegan, a transplant from Miami who wears scarves over her gaze-inducing scars. But does she wear those scarves to protect her past or to protect herself?

Tripp sensed Hilary the moment he stepped onto the pier. He couldn’t see her, but her recognizable scent lingered in the space where she’d been. He finished with one customer and glanced up, searching for her.

He caught himself and focused on the couple in front of him. The sous chefs from the nearby national park. He wasn’t sure why today he suddenly needed to sell fish to Hilary. Sure, he liked her. Maybe he’d started looking at her differently these past few weeks. He didn’t think she’d seen him as more than an acquaintance—at least she’d never acted like she had.

Her watching him eat a meal after his date had abandoned him could hardly be counted as romantic.

He finished with the couple, and Hilary appeared. Her grin lit up her face as she held her phone to her ear. He smiled back at her, and she lifted her hand before turning to complete her call. Only seconds passed, but Tripp felt like the world had paused.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with these new feelings for Hilary. He wasn’t even sure when they had sprung into existence. Simply having Jared suggest a relationship was possible with Hilary hadn’t awakened something that wasn’t previously there.

While she wasn’t looking, he enjoyed the curve of her hips and the length of her legs. The dark black romper she wore seemed almost criminal, and a flush flooded Tripp’s whole body.

She turned back to him, and he dipped his chin to his chest so his eyes would fall on the fish in front of him. He cleared his throat, trying not to make too much noise, as she said, “Morning, Tripp.”

At the genuine, sweet sound of her voice, Tripp glanced up. Her beauty nearly stole his breath, but he managed to inhale without sounding like a squeaky balloon. “Hey, Hil. What’ll it be?”

“I heard you had swordfish.”

“I do.” He turned toward the cooler behind him. “I was up all night,” he said, his words running away from his brain. “Thinking about you.” He spun around. “I mean—not that I was thinking about you. Thinking about how you ate that ice cream. I shouldn’t have eaten it so fast. I was sick for hours.”

Hilary tucked a lock of hair that had escaped from her bun. “Wow, I didn’t know big, strong men like yourself got sick from eating ice cream.”

He thrust her package toward her. “Eating ice cream too fast.”

She took the fish and handed him her card. “Want to go get some more tonight?”

“Heavens, no.” He counted out her change. “I mean—” He took a deep breath to try to find his center. It didn’t work, but he really wanted to stop saying stupid things. “I can’t go tonight.”

“Oh, okay.”

“What about for lunch?”

Hilary’s eyes locked with his. He couldn’t seem to look away from their foresty depths, and he wondered what she saw in his eyes.

“I’m meeting some friends for lunch,” she said. “Sorry.”

He handed back her money and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “That’s okay.”

She backed up a couple of steps, stopped, and cocked her hip. “You know, you should go out with my friend Andrea.”

Tripp’s heart crashed to the soles of his feet and stayed there. “Andrea?” Now his voice sounded like he’d sucked in a lungful of helium.

“Yeah, she’s—”

“I’m not really looking to date anyone right now.” She pressed his lips around the lie.

“Oh, I just thought—you were out with that other woman, and….” She lifted her free hand up, palm forward, as if to say, Never mind.

Tripp watched her walk away and collect a couple of packages from Ben, who then went with her carrying twice as much as she was. A hole opened inside Tripp, but he ducked his head and did what he’d always done: He worked.

Hours later, after he’d sold his entire catch, after he’d scrubbed down his fishing boat, after he’d settled behind his desk in his office, he let Hilary’s words rebound through his mind. Had she really tried to set him up with another woman? Why would she do that?

Tripp pulled a folder toward him and flicked it open. He couldn’t focus on the contents though, and he ended up pulling out his phone. “Call Hilary Finnegan,” he commanded, and the phone responded with, “Calling Hilary Finnegan.”

She’d claimed she was having lunch with friends, but Tripp had detected the hint of a lie between her words, in the way her chin lifted just a notch, in the false quality of her voice.

“Hey,” she said, and the distinct sound of restaurant chatter in the background came through the line.

“Who’s Andrea?” he asked. He hadn’t meant his question to sound like a police request.

“Oh, uh, she’s my landlady’s daughter. She’s nice.”

Tripp didn’t care about Andrea, but he couldn’t say that. Maybe he should just go out with her so his interest in Hilary wasn’t quite so obvious.

“She’s a manicurist. Has a salon out of her house.”

“The house where I dropped you off last night?”

“Sort of. The two-story one on the other side of the pool.” Something very much like silverware on dishes clanked on her end of the conversation. “I’ll text you her number.”

Tripp’s mouth went dry. He didn’t want to call a perfect stranger and ask her out. How did he even phrase that? He had a hard enough time asking out women he knew.

“Can’t you, I mean, maybe you could set it up?”

Hilary laughed. “And then you can debrief me afterward. Is that it?”

“I’m not cold-calling someone I’ve never met.”

“Just a sec.” The chaos on her side of the conversation dimmed and then disappeared. “So you want me to set up a meeting?”

“That would be nice, yes.” Tripp hated the direction this conversation had taken, hated that he’d called Hilary at all. He wanted to go out with her.

“So I get to be your matchmaker?”

Tripp rolled his eyes. “This call was a mistake.”

“No, no,” Hilary said. “Don’t hang up.”

“Why would I hang up?”

She laughed, but now it had a nervous edge. “I don’t know. Listen, we should meet this afternoon. I can find out what kind of woman you’re looking for and go from there.”

“I don’t—” Tripp couldn’t finish the sentence. He wanted to see her, and if that meant he had to pretend to be interested in dating her friends…. It wasn’t his worst option. “What time?”

 

 

Until Autumn Falls is available for purchase at all eBook retailers. Or feel free to purchase a copy at your local bookstore!

Amazon • iTunes • Nook • Google Play • Kobo

 

Exclusive Excerpt: Tongue Tied

 

Most of us have been there — caught somewhere between expressing our own needs and suffering in silence. It isn’t easy to talk to someone you care about, especially if the it’s about a sensitive topic, like finding new heights of passion in the bedroom.

According to Marriage.com, poor communication is the third most frequent reason for divorce and in a study published in the Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy, it was found that communication and sexual satisfaction can independently predict marital satisfaction. However, if the communication was bad, sexual satisfaction did not contribute to a relationship’s overall health and success.

And that does not only apply to the married couples. Having solid communication skills is imperative to a person’s success in life, in work, and in the home. We’ve all read the articles, taken the advice, filled out the surveys, read the self-help books that promise you a solution, only to let you down when it comes to practical application. That is where Stella Harris, certified intimacy educator and sex coach, stands out from the crowd. She is not only informative and emphatic, but provides sound advice for improving communication skills in the home, with partners, and in kink play. But, even better, her advice has real applications in every type of relationship from love to business.

Below is an excerpt from Stella’s new book, Tongue Tied: Untangling Communication in Sex, Kink, and Relationships on one important key factor in communicating with your partner: setting apart time to have serious conversations in a safe space.

WHEN TO TALK: MAKING TIME TO TALK

This might sound silly, but we don’t always take time to talk to the people who are the most important to us. Maybe you chat about your day, what’s going on at the office, or the movie you just saw, but when did you last talk about your feelings?

Or maybe you and your sweetie(s) don’t get to see each other that often, and you feel reluctant to “ruin” date night by having hard conversations. You just want to enjoy your time together and not risk derailing the evening.

Either way, sometimes the most important things are the hardest to bring up.

Whether you’re simply giving your partner a heads-up that there’s something you’d like to talk about and asking if it’s a good time, or actually scheduling time to talk, it’s important to differentiate “talks” from simply chatting about your day.

You need to be in a different headspace to really share—and hear—heavier stuff about how you or a partner are feeling. That’s why it can be helpful to have a scheduled time on the calendar to talk about how things are going. Depending what your organizational style is, you can even make an agenda for these talks.

Whether you set these talks for once a week or once a month, it can be helpful to know that you’ve got a time coming when you can raise any concerns you’ve been having, set your shared schedule for the coming week or month, and make sure you’re on the same page about the relationship.

If you’re a note-taking type, like I am, you might even keep a running list for yourself of things you want to talk about at the next meeting. Putting something on the list and knowing you’ll get a chance to sort through whatever it is can help take it off your mind in the meantime.

When you have your first scheduled relationship talk, set some ground rules about how you’d like it to go. Are you agreeing on an agenda together? Are you each getting equal time? Are you tackling one big topic, then each adding your own smaller items that have come up since the last meeting? Knowing how the talk will go can be as important as the talks themselves.

Another thing to consider is location. Some people will be most comfortable doing this at home, and for other people having these talks in public is easier. Sometimes being out in the world is a good backdrop to keep things on an even keel, if you’re afraid the talk might get tense or emotional.

The bottom line is figuring out what it takes logistically to make it most likely that you and your sweetie(s) will get what you need from these conversations.

At a minimum, give your partner a heads-up when you want to have a difficult conversation, and check in about whether it’s a good time. Sure, sometimes things come up in the moment that have to be addressed, but if the issue isn’t immediate, you’ll get the best results if you have the conversation when everyone is in the right head space for it. It’s also another way to establish a consent culture within your relationship, by letting people opt in to serious talks rather than being surprised by them.

With clients, I often call these State of the Relationship talks. Just like oil changes, software updates, and putting air in the tires, everything requires ongoing maintenance, and relationships are no exception. Once you’ve decided to have these regular talks, here are some things you might want to cover:

  • Needs and definitions around sex.
  • Household logistics, chores, etc.
  • Vacation planning.
  • Big personal topics that affect everyone—job changes, moves, etc.
  • Your schedule for the coming week or month, depending how often you have these talks.
  • Scheduling date nights.

Sometimes just knowing that you have a built-in space coming up to raise issues can make things feel less urgent. Often it’s not knowing when or how to bring something up that causes the most stress. When you have these talks already on the schedule, you’ll also have a built-in time for bringing up new kinds of sex you’d like to try, or a fantasy you’d like to tell your partner about.

Most people think that figuring out how to start the conversation is the hardest part, so if you’ve got time to talk built in already, you’ve already done the hardest part and you can focus on the information you want to share, rather than worrying about how to bring it up.

Tongue Tied is available for purchase at all major retailers in print and digital formats. Or feel free to order a copy at your local independent bookstore! 

Amazon     iTunes     Barnes & Noble     Google Play     Kobo

 

 

 

Getting to Know a Real-Life Unicorn: editor Frank Lowe (June’s Exclusive Excerpt)

 

The below passage is excerpted from the “Editor’s Note” in Raised by Unicorns: Stories from People with LGBTQ+ Parents edited by Frank Lowe, which will publish on Tuesday, June 12, 2018. 

Hi, I’m Frank Lowe, a forty-one-year-old divorced gay dad. Some of you may know me from my snarky, acerbic Twitter persona “@GayAtHomeDad.” Others may be familiar with my writing for publications such as Huff Post, Gays with Kids, and The Advocate online, among many more. When I started tweeting in 2012, my original intent was to blow the roof off gay parenting stigmas. I used humor to diffuse what was a newer concept then (times have changed in five years), and it worked. I amassed over a hundred thousand followers who can now say they know at least one gay dad.

I used that platform to segue into what I really wanted to do—help others in the LGBTQ+ community, specifically youth. Through my writing, I opened my life wide open and gave people a true perspective into what it means to be a gay parent. Most readers have discovered there’s not really a big difference. Sure, I might put a little more air into styling my kid’s hair, but that’s about it. Needless to say, my son is my life, and I’ve dedicated myself to him becoming the best human possible.

Six million and counting. A huge number, right? Hard to believe when you consider we’re discussing U.S. citizens who have at least one LGBTQ+ parent. But that’s reality. These people can’t even type “my moms” or “my dads” into Microsoft Word without it wanting to add an unnecessary possessive apostrophe—i.e. “my mom’s” (try it, you’ll be amazed). Whether they want to be or not, they are an extension of the LGBTQ+ community. Terms such as “queerspawn” have been used to describe them, but personally I wouldn’t refer to my son as that. In fact, I don’t think he needs a label. He can be what he wants to be.

Prior to our son’s birth, I longed for any kind of information about gay adoption and raising a baby. It was 2009, and there were a few popular options. Every night, I’d be awake until three a.m. reading, to absorb all I could. Eventually I wanted something I was unable to find: the viewpoint from kids with LGBTQ+ parents. Now, that isn’t to say there weren’t choices available (there were and are). I just couldn’t locate them easily, and time was not on my side.

Fast forward to now—2018—he’s eight, and I’ve never been more proud of a human being in my life. He’s been an inspiration to me in infinite ways, including what you’re reading right now. I was gifted with this fantastic opportunity, and can finally give voices to those who have been relatively silent or swept under the rug.

“Raised by Unicorns” is obviously a take on the old adage “raised by wolves,” and I couldn’t find it a more fitting title. Not that I necessarily consider myself a unicorn (well, okay, sometimes), but the LGBTQ+ community comprises unique individuals and therefore, it seemed entirely appropriate. My goal was to present a diverse anthology to you, full of different life experiences. These stories run the gamut, and that is the beauty of it all. You may notice that this book is a little heavier on the L and G, but I feel that is a snapshot of the time we are living in and is constantly evolving.

All I hope you take away from this book is empathy. These people are beautiful souls who have faced adversity since they were born. Some of the stories might be what you imagine, and others will floor you. Regardless, in a century or so, this will be history, and I thank you for being part of it just by taking all of this in.

Raised by Unicorns is available for preorder/purchase at all major retailers in print and digital formats. Or feel free to order a copy at your local independent bookstore! 

Amazon     iTunes     Barnes & Noble     Google Play     Kobo

 

The Eight Biggest Mommy Mojo Blocks

 

I am sure most Mom’s will agree that the fantasy of having a baby – all the oooh’s and aaah’s, and dreamy Pinterest-worthy visions of domesticity – quickly fade as the new reality of motherhood settles in: a crushed libido, unpredictable lactation, constant exhaustion, and an underlying identity crisis.

But how do you get past all that in order to feel playful and inspired as a woman again, satisfied as a loving mother, and more importantly, to discover a renewed enthusiasm for sex? How do you learn to reconnect with your “new” body? How can you marry your new identity as a mother with the woman, lover, and boss babe you were before?

Thankfully, Dana B. Myers, founder of Booty Parlor, has written an exciting new book meant to help all Mamas dealing with these questions: The Mommy Mojo Makeover: 28 Tools to Reclaim Yourself & Reignite Your Relationship. After encountering this postpartum sexual and identity crisis herself, Dana set out to help Mamas everywhere. Her first recommendation is to take a look at the most common obstacles you’re encountering – the mommy pains that are draining you of desire, lowering your self-esteem, and leaving you wondering if passion will ever return to your partnership. Before you can begin whipping your Mommy Mojo into shape, you must uncover your blocks. If you start by shedding some light on what’s been holding you back from being the alluring and inspired woman, mother and partner you’re meant to be, you’ll be taking the first steps on your path to rediscovering your sexual self!

Here are the eight biggest Mommy Mojo Blocks according to Dana:

1. The Mom Zone

You have a super-busy life balancing the many responsibilities of motherhood. Between schoolwork and activities, cooking dinner and tending to your kids’ every need, the pressure to parent perfectly is burning you out. Whenever you see your friends (probably on a play- date), your conversations revolve around kids and are constantly interrupted by them. Sometimes you feel overwhelmed by the demands of motherhood and that you’re lacking the personal freedom you desire. You might even feel bored to tears with your domestic load, and left wondering where the real you went. Sex has fallen low on your priority list, which is not that surprising considering how much energy you give to your kids. Since you don’t have the energy to nurture the sexy woman within, you feel stuck in the Mom Zone.

2. Low Libido

Since becoming a mother, your desire has been on a slow and steady decline. From hormonal shifts to sleep deprivation, chronic stress, and physical exhaustion, your sexual appetite has waned. It’s also possible that after a long day of the kids hanging from your every limb, you’re “all touched out” and just want to be left alone once they’re asleep! Mother- hood requires being 100 percent “on” all the time, and so you’re always thinking about the safety, well-being, and development of your little creatures. This constant mental multitasking—and likely a lack of self- care—leaves you feeling physically and mentally drained, and sexually uninspired. It’s no wonder you’re too tired to make love after the kids are in bed.

3. Body Confidence

Some moms feel just as amazing as they did pre-baby, regardless of whether their bodies changed, but many more moms view their body in a very different way post-baby. If you’re one of those moms, you may feel depressed about your appearance, or even hate how you look. Your inner vixen doesn’t give you a wink when you look in the mirror anymore. Maybe you’ve started to reject your spouse’s compliments, or you turn o the lights during sex to hide your body. You might find yourself talking trash about your thighs, tush, or tummy. There’s never enough time to exercise the way you like or get your favorite beauty and self-care treatments, all of which leaves you feeling less than thrilled with your post-baby body.

4. Time 

You’re short on it. Short on me-time. Short on kid-free time with your spouse. Short on time to do what you love and to see your girlfriends. You feel like you’re barely getting through your to-do list, let alone finding a moment to decompress and leisurely think about sensual things or get busy in the bedroom. The carefree bonding time you once shared as a couple has winnowed away to nearly nothing. Not only are you desperately short on precious together time, you and your spouse may be prioritizing time in different ways—causing your busy schedules to feel out of sync and driving a wedge between you.

5. Identity Crisis

There is a very real identity crisis that happens when you become a mother—and no one seemed to warn you about it! Perhaps you once a social butter y, with seemingly unlimited time and freedom to explore restaurants, hang out with friends, or take trips. Maybe you were an ultra-productive rock star at work, and then slipped on sexy heels and went salsa dancing at night. You defined yourself by your accomplishments, your passions, your talents. And then you became a mom: “So-and-so’s mom.” Perhaps you chose to take a break from work to raise them. And then you question, Am I just a mom now? And, Am I a good enough mom? And perhaps the biggest one of all, Why aren’t I having more fun with this?! The sudden lack of freedom and the enormous responsibility of caring for a child is a big deal, and it can make you feel like you’ve lost yourself. You might sometimes wonder: Where is the fun, social, sensual woman I used to be?

6Romantic Disconnect

When you brought your baby home, you immersed yourselves in the blissful experience of becoming parents. You swore that having kids wouldn’t change your relationship, but it did anyway. You became 
incredible partners in parenting, and maybe even better friends than you thought possible, but the sex went from hot to obligatory—and the desire and erotic tension you once had for each other began to fizzle out. The steadiness and routine that helps family life run so smoothly has zapped all spontaneity, flirtation, and adventure. Your conversations with your partner are now mostly about the kids, and your once-a-week date nights have turned into once-a-month outings where you’re home by nine. Perhaps you’re even feeling a genuine loss of sexual attraction, and worry he feels the same. The loss of romantic connection is one of the most gut-wrenching and pervasive pains of motherhood!

7. Resentment

Many moms have shared with me that they resent their spouse because they feel unsupported. Moms tend to take on more of the childcare and domestic responsibilities, and can feel like we’re just not getting enough help, appreciation, or acknowledgment. Working moms, SAHMs, ultramodern progressive moms, hippie moms, it doesn’t matter: moms just take on more. But the resentment creeps in when he 
rarely-to-never takes charge of the kids’ activities. or when he leaves for the gym, hangs out with friends, or works on a passion project without considering family responsibilities. It seems like you’re always the one who has to secure childcare while you squeeze in your “other” life (work, hobbies, friends, self-care, etc.) between errands and playdates. Maybe he’s the breadwinner and feels entitled to relax after his workday, while yours just keeps going. Nothing kills the desire for intimate, connected sex like simmering resentment; when it goes unchecked, it can lead to intense hurt and anger, which can (surprise!) result in less sex.

8. Unsatisfying Sex

There was probably a time in the not-so-distant past when you couldn’t imagine using “bedroom” and “boring” in the same sentence. In the pre- baby phase of your relationship, your sex life was hot, heavy, passionate . . . and you expected it to be that way forever. But now, your lovemaking has slowed down to a predictable, uninspiring once-a-week a air: you know exactly what’s coming because it’s always the same. Worse, your 
sex drives often feel way out of sync: maybe he wants more, you want less—and you might even feel pressure from him because of it and struggle to turn o your brain and let go during the act. or maybe you both are stuck in a cycle of sexual fatigue from the relentless emotional and physical stresses of parenting. You’re both spending your energy just getting through another day, and little is left over for feeling turned on together.

If you have nodded in agreement more than once, there is a good chance that you will find a friend in Dana and in The Mommy Mojo Makeover. Books and ebooks are available at all major retailers: Amazon, iTunes, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, Kobo, and many, many more.

Five Signs You Might Be a Submissive

 

Vanilla (adj. vəˈnilə): A person (typically heterosexual) who prefers basic sexual intercourse within a committed romantic relationship. Vanilla people have no interest in “unusual” sexualities or kinky behavior (The Cleis Press Sextionary).

You may have been called “vanilla” or used the term to describe yourself, but what if (and considering the scope human sexuality it may not be THAT big of an “if”) you were more? What if there was a hidden desire just under the surface that is itching to be scratched, explored, and opened up for your enjoyment and the pleasure of others/your partner? Maybe you secretly are a submissive or have one or two never uttered submissive kinks that send off little explosions of interest in your nether regions?

Whether you know about the BDSM scene or if you only encountered BDSM through the box office hit and bestseller, Fifty Shades of Grey, maybe it’s time you did a little exploring yourself?

While there are tons of options to explore in the BDSM scene, let’s start small…

You might be a submissive if:

  1. You like being in charge.

“I want you to write down exactly how you want me to fuck you tonight, darling.”

“Words” by Jo Henny Wolf

Most people may think that a Dom/Domme is the one in charge of a given sex scene. In reality, it is the submissive that will set the tone, lay the ground rules, and set the limits. So if you are the kind of person who loves to plan and then sit back, relax, and watch the fruits of their labor unfold, you may really enjoy experimenting as a submissive!

  1. You enjoy roleplaying (or at least the idea of it).

“On her wedding day, her mother confided that a good wife must find it in her heart to submit gladly to her husband’s desire. She never said how easy that would be.”

— “The Back Room at the Saloon” by Donna George Storey

Ever imagine yourself as an obedient house wife/husband that succumbs to the wishes of his/her lover? A damsel in distress to a shining knight? Or even a doctor’s filthy, little patient? Guess what? In each of those scenarios, there is someone who is a Top (the dominant) and someone who is a bottom (the submissive).

  1. You are stubborn by nature.

“Above all things, you challenge Sir to break your composure; toying with him this way is your idea of a game night.”

— “Symphony of Submission” by Jordan Monroe

While some people want to be in charge, others are just stubborn. If you are stubborn, ask yourself, “Am I stubborn because I want someone to push back? To challenge me?” If your answer is yes, you just might be a sub. A naughty submissive may displease their Dom/Domme/Master/Mistress on purpose in order to push a pre-defined boundary a little further by disobeying an order.

  1. Sometimes… you need a little push to be as naughty as you want to be.

“For him to grapple with an idea meant that I would, too. For when he pushed himself, he pushed me. When he surrendered to his true nature, I yielded entirely to mine.”

— “Lashed” by Dr. J.

Have you often found yourself in a social setting fantasizing about that dark and brooding hunk in the corner or that super-sexy lady at the center of attention? Or have you had difficulty telling your partner that the scene in the movie you watched last night really turned you on and you want to try it? Regardless of the situation, do you find yourself… wanting to be ravaged by your hearts desire? Do you wish they could just read your mind and know all the filthy things you could never utter? Sometimes all a submissive needs is a push to really let go and embrace their hidden urges.

  1. You feel as if you’ve run out of Vanilla options to explore.

‘“And our regular sex doesn’t do that for you?’

My eyes open at the sad tone in your voice. No. That’s not what I mean. “Our sex is wonderful.” Always. “This is just…” I shrug. ‘A fantasy.’ One I would only trust to someone like you.”

—“The Framework of Fantasy” by Sonni de Soto

Were you always the girl/boy with the hottest sexual exploits that are always the envy of your friends? Sex on the deck of a cruise ship at night under the moonlight? Check. Threesome? Check. Orgy? Been there, done that. Even if you have never been into the parts of BDSM popularized by Fifty Shades of Grey there are so many other sides to BDSM and being submissive.

This list was inspired by The Big Book of Submission, Volume 2: 69 Kinky Tales edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel.

This book can be purchased any place where books and ebooks are sold: Amazon, iTunes, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, Kobo, and more!

 

Cleiss Press also offers a wide variety of instructional guidebooks on getting into and/or perfecting the art of the bedroom. Here are some titles that may be of interest to you:

As Kinky as You Wanna Be: Your Guide to Safe, Sane and Smart BDSM

The Ultimate Guide to Kink: BDSM, Role Play and the Erotic

The Ultimate Guide to Sexual Fantasy: How to Turn Your Fantasies into Reality

The Ultimate Guide to Sex Toys

The Ultimate Guide to Bondage: Creating Intimacy through the Art of Restraint

The Cleis Press Sextionary

Exclusive Excerpt: The Mommy Mojo Makeover

 

Hey, Mamas!

Feeling like you can be a sexier version of your current self? Missing that extra bounce in your step that comes with feeling sexually fulfilled?

Dana B. Myers, founder of Booty Parlor is here to help with The Mommy Mojo Makeover: 28 Tools to Reclaim Yourself & Reignite Your Relationship. This practical and actionable guide is meant to help you rediscover and redefine your post-baby body, post-baby relationship with your partner, and post-baby sex life. Yes, there is such a thing!

Lucky for you, Dana is here to restore your hope and start to reignite the passion in your life and partnership with an exclusive sneak peak from one ofDana’s mojo-boosting tools!


From Tool No. 6: Choose Fun over Obligation

When was the last time you used the word “fun” to describe your daily life as a mom? Is it fun to clean up toys, be thrown up on, prepare meals and snacks, potty train, teach manners, run errands, carpool, help with homework, wrangle wild things into bed, and monitor a teenager’s social media account . . . all while juggling a career and your relationship? The short answer: Not so much.

This letter submitted to my website, from Abby, a mom of one, illuminates this issue perfectly:

Dear Dana,

Having a loving husband, my own business, and a baby girl is truly my dream come true, but if I’m honest, it doesn’t always feel so dreamy. My girl is three, and I thought I’d be so much more in-the-moment with her. Instead, it feels like I’m robotically “plugging in the pieces” of our day. I’m always looking ahead to what’s next—a meal, activity, bath, bedtime, etc.—so much so that I miss out on the sweetness of “what’s happening now.” I see other moms having FUN with their kids and it makes me sad. I’m even ashamed to admit that I often feel angry about it. I was also raised to believe that you have to nish your work before you play. And my work—both as her mom and as an entrepreneur growing my business—is never done, so I never allow myself to fully get to the “play part” of motherhood. This leaves me feeling stuck in stress mode and isolation, and it’s certainly not making magic happen in my relationship with my husband either.

Please, please tell me . . . how can I enjoy motherhood more? I desperately want to be a happier mama, woman, and wife!

xo, Abby

I could totally relate to Abby’s predicament. I often struggled to experience the joy “in the moment” with my kids—my mind would inevitably drift to work deadlines or other domestic obligations. While I hate to admit it, I often found the minutiae of motherhood boring, which only made me feel guilty. on top of that, I was mentally and emotion- ally exhausted from constantly shifting between the roles of mother and businesswoman. For me, trying to be everything to everyone at every single moment, meant that I missed out on the joy of being in the here and now. What’s worse is that this inner discord also affected my marriage and sex life. I was often restless, resentful, and unhappy at the end of the day, and my husband was getting the bare minimum

from me—whatever was leftover. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved being a mother, but there were times I was downright irritated and overwhelmed by the endless obligations that came with it. Let me tell you something: obligation is So. Not. Sexy.

I wanted to unearth bliss within the chaos, rediscover delight in the precious moments with my children, and find a way to make my life a whole lot of fun again! Something had to shift and I had a hunch it would have to be my attitude. That’s when it came to me in a flash, like a light bulb going o in my brain:

♥ I decided I would CHOOSE FUN, whenever possible.

♥ I would choose PLEASURE over a sense of obligation.

♥ I would choose SILLINESS over boredom.

♥ I would choose AMUSEMENT over irritation.

♥ I would choose MY MOM TRIBE over isolation.

♥ I would choose to SEEK SENSUALITY over strict scheduling.

This radical change in mind-set was a revelation. I realized that, amidst all the chaos and sleeplessness, there is magnificence to be had in motherhood. Why miss out on it? Why not squeeze the pleasure and bliss out of every single moment?

Even with this new attitude, I still had to run the household and get my work done, change stinky diapers and operate on less than six hours of sleep, but I decided I would do it with more merriment. I’d listen to more music, find the humor in the madness of it all, and eat more chocolate along the way. I’d abandon my strict by-the-minute schedule and opt for a more spontaneous family ow. I’d attend more playdates with friends, even if it meant I had to leave work early and finish up once the kids were in bed. Fun would be my choice. And it worked! Motherhood 
became much more fun. I became much more like my old self again. The moments spent doing the simplest of things with my kids became so much sweeter, so much more amusing. I began to get my glow back, and feel like me again. I freed myself of the unnecessary feelings of anger and obligation that were plaguing me, and my Mojo began to steadily rise. Motherhood became more joyful, and that newfound happiness carried right over into my relationship.

I shared this personal success story with Abby and, inspired by my process, she began to focus her attention on finding more fun and plea- sure, and her experience of motherhood changed for the better.

Mama, pleasure and fun are your birthright—they are yours for the taking. That’s not to say that holding onto this lighthearted mind-set is always easy, but it is worth it. When you’re having more fun within the daily grind of motherhood, your whole life will become happier. Fun o sets exhaustion; fun is a way out of feeling blue. Fun melts away fear, doubt, and stress. Fun can keep you from unleashing your inner tyrant upon your kids and husband. Fun makes room for present moment magic with your kids, opening your eyes to the possibility of more plea- sure in all areas of your life—including in the bedroom! Choose fun every day, and you will access your glow once again.


Available wherever books and eBooks are sold:

Amazon.….iTunes…..Barnes & Noble…..Google Play…..Kobo

and more!

 

 

March’s Exclusive Excerpt, Part II: Cowboy Up

 

Shane Allison has done it again in Cowboy Up: Gay Erotic Stories–another stellar collection of the hottest gay erotic stories all set in rural America where the stillness of nature is in direct opposition to the feirce passion of the sweaty, muscular cowboys in this volume. Each expertly written story allows these rustic men to give way to their desire, whether it be their new farmhand or a poor lost city boy. In fact, in this excerpt from “The Naked Cowboy” by Shane Allison, Antwan, a city-boy himself, is forced to depend on the kindness of strangers, namely Heath, a lonely, down-on-his-luck ranch owner outside of Tallahassee. Little does Antwan know that Heath is eager to offer him more than a cold beer and conversation…

I had figured Heath wasn’t from here. They don’t make them as beautiful as him in Tally. “I didn’t think that you were from here. You don’t look like somebody I went to high school with. I’m forever running into people I went to school with. I was just telling my friend, AJ, that I get sick of running into people that—”

“Antwan, has anyone ever told you, you talk too much?” Heath’s remark was a shock to hear if not ballsy on his behalf to say.

“I know. My mama tells me that all the time. My friends say that I don’t let people get a word in edgewise. I go on and on. Would you believe that I was a shy kid growing up?”

“Antwan?” Heath said.
“Yeah?”
“Shut up and come over here. I can barely make you out sittin’ all the way down there.” Heath padded his knee. “Come have a seat.”

I thought Heath’s request was weird if not random. “Actually, I’m good. These kitchen chairs are pretty comfortable. Good and…sturdy. Strong legs. Did you make these yourself?”

“Enough with the small talk. I’m not asking; get your ass over here.”

Being that Heath’s gun was leaning against the side of the refrigerator behind him, I didn’t want to risk what would happen if I refused him. I took another swig of my beer, got up, and walked over to the end of the table Heath was sitting. He tapped his sinewy leg, motioning for me to take a seat. “I’m pretty heavy. Are you sure—” Before I could finish my sentence, Heath grabbed me and pulled me into his lap.

“That’s better. How does that feel?”

“Fine, other than the fact that the last time I sat on anybody’s lap, I was seven and he went by the name Santa Claus.” Heath chuckled before he took another drink from his beer, his full, pink lips tight around the rim of the bottle. His hands were lthy, with grit under his nails from all his hard work.

Heath rested his arm around the lower part of my back. “Things got bad when I had to put my daddy in a home. Caught the same thing my granddaddy did, Alzheimer’s. I tried to take care of him for a while, but I couldn’t give him the care he needed. Last thing he ever said to me was that he regretted having a faggot for a son.”

“Jesus, Heath, that’s awful.”

“I mean it was the disease talking. Other than the suits from the bank, I don’t get a lot of visitors out here, so it’s nice to have some good company.” I met Heath’s gaze as he supported me in his lap. His arms and shoulders were huge and strong, glistening with sweat. Heath ran a finger along my jaw. He pulled me to him and kissed me. His lips were wet and supple against mine. I could taste the beer when he slipped his tongue in my mouth. Heath ran his hand under my shirt, making my dick stir in my shorts as he traipsed my nips with a couple of dirty fingers. I felt his hard-on twitch through his jeans under my ass. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said.