Two men, one woman...bound to get up to mischief...

I’m as crook as all get out at the moment but Miss Berengaria Brown rushed to my aid with a post about her new release - Huldah’s Two Hikers – click on the cover to buy. It’s about a woman, two men and why hiking can be very good for you…er, it's the - um, fresh air...that's right...the air...

WARNING ADULT MENAGE EXCERPT

Derek and Corey had really pushed their pace on the track, surprised not to see her up ahead until they’d understood she must have been deliberately moving faster than normal herself.
“She’s being sensible. Moving the pace along so she gets back before dark,” said Corey.
“She’s an idiot; she’ll break her worthless neck,” growled Derek, his face red with frustration.
When they rounded the last bend and saw her sitting nonchalantly on the rock, Corey laughed.
“What an actress! You did that deliberately, didn’t you?”
“You damn idiot! Don’t you realize you could have broken your neck rushing down that path? Woman, you’re driving me mad!” yelled Derek, grabbing her shoulders and hauling her to her feet.
Then his lips crashed on hers in a passionate medley of lust and frustration. He pulled her tight against his body grinding his cock into her pelvis, letting her know just how aroused he was.
With his lips still locked to hers, he unsnapped her jeans and wrenched the zipper down, then did the same with his own.
Corey dropped his pack and rummaged in the side pocket for condoms, handing one to Derek and quickly releasing his own cock and rolling the latex down it.
Derek backed Huldah over to a nearby tree, pushed her against it, and lifted her legs up around his waist. “Gods I can’t wait to have you,” he whispered, and slid into her hungry, hot cunt.
Huldah sighed at the feeling of fullness. She knew Derek was only angry from fear and concern and she accepted his need for her with no foreplay. Besides, the minute she saw them she was wet for them. Somehow just seeing that look in his eyes was enough to make her belly clench with need and cream drip from her pussy.
Then Corey was behind Derek, squirting lube into his ass and scissoring his fingers inside the other man’s hole. Huldah’s breath caught at the raw passion of Corey’s movements and she knew Corey understood what had motivated Derek, too. This was Corey’s way of soothing Derek’s anguish.
Very quickly Derek’s ass was prepared and Corey pushed inside him. Then together the two men fucked. Huldah rested her long legs higher on Derek’s hips and managed to dig her ankles into Corey’s back, thus uniting the three of them and enabling her to feel every rippling muscle in both men.
The men were too emotionally involved to make this fuck last very long. But Huldah found their actions so erotic and arousing she was ready to come just from watching them.
Derek thrust deep into her, pushing hard and bouncing her back against the tree. At the end of each stroke he gave a little upward thrust to his pelvis that hit her G-spot with unerring accuracy. Corey timed his strokes with Derek’s, pushing hard and fast into the other man and Huldah could feel his
muscles tense and release with every stroke.
“Damn, woman, you’re under my skin and in my blood,” gasped Derek before leaning in to kiss her hard.
“Mine too,” acknowledged Corey, taking one hand off Derek’s hips to grasp her shoulder. Derek shuddered with his release and Corey and Huldah came with him.
He rested his face on her neck, breathing heavily, and said, “Lucky we didn’t take your sweater off or that bark would have left nasty scratches on you.”
Laughing slightly they disentangled themselves and did up their clothing.
“But shit, Huldah, don’t run out on me again. Please,” Derek asked.

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Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
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Pulled a hammie…

…hamstring – I’m a complete whiner at the moment…I leave you with this from Attitude Angel, out now at Whiskey Creek Torrid, while I whine on….

“Does he have to belch like that?”

“I believe he does it to annoy you,” Aballach murmured in amusement.

Loretto sighed in frustration. “Well, it’s working. I still have no idea how he got in to Heaven. He has an earring! This is an exclusive place after all.”

Aballach looked at the “he” in question. While it was true he was hardly angel material, there was a mischievous, bad-boy edge to David Falconetti reminding Aballach of himself in his mortal days. “There’s a reason he’s here.” Nothing in Heaven happened without careful planning. As for exclusivity, that was only in the minds of some. Heaven took all kinds, judging only on merit and heart.

“It would have to be compelling. He’s anything but angelic.” Loretto dusted an imaginary piece of fluff from his pristine white sleeve.

“Not everyone has to be.” Aballach was constantly amused at the “holier then thou” attitude of the white-suited Loretto. It wasn’t a requirement to wear white in Heaven yet Loretto made sure he did and that it was spotless. If wings were more than a fairy story, then Loretto would have them—bigger and better groomed than anyone else’s.

“But—”

“Are you questioning the man in charge?” Aballach knew Loretto was too rules oriented to voice his queries to the boss.

“Certainly not.” He looked indignant at the accusation. “I just wonder, why him of all people? He’s arrogant, rude and smug.”

“Hey! I can hear you.” David Falconetti was lying on the green grass, his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed. He looked completely relaxed as if he no longer had any worries.

“Eavesdroppers never hear well of themselves.” Loretto’s voice was so pious that Aballach had to stop himself from laughing.

“And a stitch in time saves nine—but who gives a rat’s ass?” David closed his eyes as he enjoyed the warm sunlight on his face.

Loretto stamped his foot in anger. “Well, really!”

“You invited me to this shindig, bossy britches. I sure wasn’t expecting to end up here.”

“There must be someone else we can use?” Loretto turned imploringly to Aballach. “We’ve a reputation to uphold. God knows what he’ll do.”

“Exactly.” And that was why God had looked at those in Heaven and picked out David Falconetti. He had a plan. Aballach rarely questioned the boss. “And he is the one.”

“But why him?”

“Oh, he’s a hell-raiser all right, but he’s going to be given another chance. We need him because he’s flawed and human.” Because he’s destined to change the world. But that was something only God and Aballach were aware of.

The man in question responded. “Actually I’m dead—that’s why I’m here—and as for ‘flawed’, I prefer to call it ‘possessing interesting character traits’.” David didn’t sound at all offended at Aballach’s words.

Aballach held onto Loretto arm to calm him. “Mr. Falconetti…”
“Yes, Mr. Aballach?”

His lip twitched. Aballach liked the dark-haired man immensely. He was a law unto himself and didn’t care what others thought. Since his arrival in Heaven his lazy charm had shocked some and endeared him to many. “Would you be so good as to join us please?” He watched as David got to his feet and sauntered lazily over to them. His sleepy green eyes were full of amusement and the brow ring above his left eyebrow accentuated the ‘bad boy’ look. Oh yes, I can see exactly why he was chosen. To save the world, but strength and charisma were needed.

“So what’s the deal, boys?”

Aballach smiled. He’d liked David from the first moment they’d met. “We need you to do something for us…”

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Weird arsed week….

First up I must mention that Attitude Angel is out at Whiskey Creek Torrid. I forgot it was released – bad author-hand-slap-hanging-head-in-shame. I was supposed to promote the arse out of it until you were all sick to death of it and said ‘bugger off, we’ll frigging buy it if you shut already.’ Ok – so that’s done – click on the cover below to buy or read on MacDuff…It’s been a week out of the Twilight Zone. Weird things have happened left, right and centre and I’ve been left thinking ‘huh’ and ‘what the?’

So, here’s the thing, suddenly I’m a manager with my own office – picture musical chairs and you’re the only one who’s playing. The music stops and you look at the chair and you think ‘should I sit?’ But you do and it starts off this amazing chain reaction of responsibility that you think ‘well fuck, I’m a grown up.’

Then there’s the gossip at work. X stormed out of the office because Y is a ball breaking cow – no, I’m not Y this time – and there is uproar and drama and hours are spent trying to determine the facts of what may or could have or did happen. No work gets done because well, how can it? You have to discuss all the possible variations of what could have happened to ascertain 79% of the truth. I’m completely exhausted from all that. Then there’s the staff who are pissed at the sudden office changes, someone took all my black pens – I only write in black – extremely annoying – how does anyone write in blue - and I only got to have one coffee and because of that how can I be expected to stamp things with the right date and not upside down?

And then there are people you want to hate and ignore and you just can’t ‘cause they get all puppy dog on you and well…you know…sigh…its’ hard to be a bitch sometimes…

I think the most normal thing of the week was planning a bank robbery with author Anny Cook and the Frog Queen…thank god for rational people like this.

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I came second for bold embroidery….

…at the Avenell Show…'can’t remember the year. So yep, I was on a list once. It was all to do with cotton and thread and lots of wild colour. Actually I wasn’t even aware I had been entered in the show until I got the certificate. I think I was 13. Ah, those were the heady days…

What am I crapping on about? Several days ago I wrote a short, simple blog for Whiskey Creek Torrid and I asked a question along the lines of how important was it to readers whether a book was on a best seller list. It was to do with some heated emails I read from a group of authors who were upset that a bestseller list had gone to god.

Anyway I got quite a lot of emails back on the subject - some from authors but most from readers. Authors think it is vitally important to be on a bestseller list as readers pick from the list and it provides publicity. I don’t necessarily agree with that but I respect those opinions.

Readers didn’t see the list as being important and that they liked to make their mind up by reading blubs, excerpts, looking at covers, blogs and recommendations from friends. It appears that a bestseller list is not deemed as important. They also liked to pick lesser know authors to expand horizons – free reads being a good way to do it. A couple of readers brought up something that never occurred to me and that was - how do we know the bestseller list is right? Is number one really number one? Hmmm… stuffed if I know and an interesting point. I believe reputable publishers would have no fear in running a true and accurate top ten list without fear or favour…dodgy pubs may re-jig a list to make some authors happy...who knows? It’s the answer-is-blowing-in-the-wind kind of deal.

To me, 2nd best champion embroiderer at the Avenell show, the bottom line is readers read books and influence the market according to their needs and beliefs. Pretty damn simple huh?

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Okay…

…so my plan was to write, write, write, and finish my latest vampire book, until my fingers bled or I ran out of popcorn – either one – but then George happened. Le sigh. George Clooney. Yum-my – stick on a stick – and oh-my-god-he’s-just-plain-lovely-George. I swear he is even better than Tim Tams and I adore Tim Tams. Anyway a George Clooney movie came on TV – One Fine Day – yeah not a fabulous one but who cares as George was in it – and it was impossible to drag myself from the television. Why? Because it was George and he’s so damn watchable. Besides, I’m pretty sure I was watching George for research purposes anyway…yeah, sure…that’s it…uh huh…I was researching.

Yeah, you’re right. How someone looks is absolutely unimportant and I believe that whole-heartedly 99.9% of the time. But cut me some slack this is George Clooney. He is just one small weakness I have. Best friend Ethel and I often talk about men and we always say “Well, George wouldn’t do that.” - and - “Well hell no. George is George and by definition he is…well George and he’s pretty damn perfect.”

I defy any woman not to like George.

Bit of news…

...‘picked up a contract on my werewolf book and for all those who have emailed and asked where they can buy Male Me – thank you so much for your kind emails, interest and patience. Male Me will be back out shortly with Whiskey Creek Press Torrid.

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Fear of Being...

So, I got word of a new editor – a male – yesterday. Hmmm, a male…that should be interesting. Never had a male edit my erotic romances. I warn him now to start stocking up on gin or whatever his favourite alcoholic beverage is as I am hell to edit – typos, split infinitives and I tend to make up words. My long suffering Ellora’s Cave editor will swear to this fact. I am a trial and a tribulation but hey I like me so I’m not changing any time soon.

The book that he will be editing is called Fear of Being – and yes I have a release date for this year so that was a heck of a surprise. The book is an erotic horror ménage romance – so basically it’s about orgasms and people screaming while the hero is all heroic and the heroine is her usually pissy self as some creepy guy tries to frighten the bejeezus out of her. This book is totally different to my others – sure, it has the same Jones style but it’s pretty creepy – hence the horror angle. It’s based on a recurring nightmare I have. I wrote it in some weird, existential hope that it would rid me of these night time visitations. It didn’t – bummer - but life goes and like all my books they are based on me in some way. Why? Is it a narcissistic complex I have? Probably - but there’s nothing wrong with a healthy ego – it keeps you hopeful and active and ambitious. Without an ego you’d probably sit and stare at a wall and want for nothing…actually, that could be good at times too. Hmmm…wall staring….anyway…writing from my own life is more the fact that I absolutely believe you have to write what you know. You have to live what the heroine has done and believe what she says.

This book is coming out through Whiskey Creek Torrid. Why? Because they wanted it and it’s a genre they are interested in. Will I write another horror? Depends if I have another nightmare that makes me wake up punching the air fighting off an invisible foe. Someone was telling me that the dreams we have now relate to our past lives and the things we should or could have done differently. I think that’s too much stress to place on yourself. My theory is that you and I will probably continue to stuff up our lives until we die and when we come back for the next shot at life I expect we’ll do the same. I think that sort of consistency is comforting. It allows you to accept the failures with a small shrug of your shoulders…c’est la vie baby.

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Go Ahead : Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?