Month: October 2011 (page 1 of 2)

Consuming Him is Live & Trashy’s Treats Giveaway!

Happy Halloween!

His face was hidden by shadows…I felt his muscular chest rise and fall as if it was pressed hard against mine. I have felt it before. I watched him watching me…. I knew what he would do when he caught me. Why did I want him to catch me?

Trapped in a dark house she doesn’t remember, Lily flees the monster pursuing her. But as her memories return, she realizes he isn’t the one to be feared…she is.

Jonathan wants Lily. He wants his freedom, but he’s torn between his desire to escape and the monstrous lust holding him prisoner between her thighs.

Blood. Sex. Darkness. Fear. There is no escape for either of them. And the only way Lily will survive is by surrendering to her hunger and Consuming Him.

~~~

I decided to make this story free so I could expose myself, er, my writing to new readers. It’s no longer on Smashwords, but I posted it on my blog. And today only, request a free copy of Tell Me You Want Me, Secret Storm, The Devil Made Me Do It or One Wild Night. Details below.

Trashy’s Treats Giveaway!

To celebrate the release of my new erotic short story, Consuming Him, I will give a free copy of one of my ebooks to everyone who comments on this post (10/31/2011). All you have to do is include the phrase “Trick or Treat!” in your comment and let me know which book you want. I will email you a coupon code for a free download from Smashwords. (Check out my trashy books here.) That’s all there is to it!

Happy Halloween and thank you for your support.

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Halloween Giveaway – Trashy’s Treats!

To celebrate the release of my new erotic short story, Consuming Him, I will give a free copy of one of my ebooks to everyone who comments on Monday’s post (10/31/2011). All you have to do is include the phrase “Trick or Treat!” in your comment and let me know which book you want. I will email you a coupon code for a free download from Smashwords. (Check out my trashy books here.) That’s all there is to it!

Be sure to check my blog on Monday for the link to Consuming Him, available FREE from Smashwords.

Happy Halloween weekend!

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Consuming Him – coming Halloween 2011

His face was hidden by shadows…I felt his muscular chest rise and fall as if it was pressed hard against mine. I have felt it before. I watched him watching me…. I knew what he would do when he caught me. Why did I want him to catch me?

Trapped in a dark house she doesn’t remember, Lily flees the monster pursuing her. But as her memories return, she realizes he isn’t the one to be feared…she is.

Jonathan wants Lily. He wants his freedom, but he’s torn between his desire to escape and the monstrous lust holding him prisoner between her thighs.

Blood. Sex. Darkness. Fear. There is no escape for either of them. And the only way Lily will survive is by surrendering to her hunger and Consuming Him.

Consuming Him, an erotic short story, available here.

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Excerpt – Kiss of an Angel by Kate Monroe

Kate Monroe is a red-headed author and editor who lives near the sea in a quiet corner of southern England. She has penchants for chocolate, horror, sex and old movies, and there are very few things that she wouldn’t do for a large glass of red wine. You can find her on Twitter (@KatesQuill) or on her blog – http://fromkatesquill.blogspot.com. Kiss Of An Angel will be released through Smashwords and Amazon on October 31st.

 Shannon Kiernan has never enjoyed Halloween, for each time that it passes with nothing out of the ordinary happening to her, her frustration feels worse. This year, though, everything changes. She cannot resist the pull towards the grim and forbidding manor at the end of the street, nor can she resist the sensuous pleasures and dark secrets that await her there…

Kiss Of An Angel

Chapter One

“Then allow me to be your lover this Samhain, my lovely! I will show you all the pleasures of the sinful flesh that you have denied yourself,” he whispered passionately, even the sensation of his breath on her skin proving to be enough to draw another low moan from her parted lips. “My name is Azaleus, Shannon, and tonight I am yours.”

She could not bear to fight against it any longer. Tilting her head back, she gazed into his eyes as his head moved slowly closer, his lips parting and his smile disappearing entirely as his mouth neared hers. Her breathing quickened as she watched his eyes darken to the deepest of inky blacks, but before she could react his lips slammed down onto hers.

Shannon cried out into his mouth, for he was kissing her with such passion that it seemed he wanted nothing more than to devour her entirely with the ferocity of his deep, searing kiss. His hands grasped hold of both sides of her face, twisting it and pulling it ever further up towards his as his tongue darted possessively around hers.

She was helpless against him. He crushed her against the wall, their bodies moulding together as he lifted her off her feet, holding her in place with the weight of his body alone. Shannon could feel the heat of his hardened cock pressing firmly against her hips, but whereas when Max had done that she felt nothing but revulsion, the sensation of Azaleus’s cock in so intimate a place thrilled her in a way that she had never felt before.

Azaleus’s lips were assaulting hers so intensely that Shannon could barely breathe. Dizzy and light-headed, she reached up to encircle his neck with her arms and cling to him tightly, bucking against him in a way that was wholly instinctive.

Her movement seemed to delight him, for he released his claim on her mouth with a small, satisfied nod. Azaleus allowed her feet to return to the floor and a smug smile danced upon his lips as she visibly trembled, leaning against the wall to support herself. “So, my lovely, have you ever been kissed in such a way before?” he demanded, his eyes still swallowed up by that inky darkness that had sent such a shiver of fear through Shannon’s body.

She shook her head, finding herself at a complete loss for words as he reached out to slide her loosened bra free of her arms. Azaleus chuckled softly before his eyes, impossibly, darkened yet further as he gently cupped her freed breasts in his hands, brushing his thumbs across the pointed nipples and wrenching another cry of desperation from her lips.

“Oh, Shannon, how you are going to enjoy all that I will do to you!” His hunger was written all over his face, and he took her hands in his own to guide them towards the buttons of his high-collared white shirt. “I want you to undress me, my lovely, like a lover should,” Azaleus demanded, groaning loudly as Shannon’s fingers rested against the curve of his throat.

Her own eyes were wide with awe, the mingling of fear and desire sending rush after rush of adrenalin pounding through her heated blood. Aching with the burning need to submit to Azaleus and follow his commands, her reluctance seeming to melt away in the face of the fire that was inflaming her body, Shannon fumbled over the top button, but before she could wrench his shirt open, a low, hissed murmur from further down the hall caught her attention.

“Well, brother, have you found us a mortal already?”

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Ta-da! My next hot and steamy trashy project – update

10/25/2011 Update: I have six stories drafted and five more to write. It’s going well. My characters are developing nicely (or naughtily–is that a word?), especially Alex. He’s a huge turn on.

Still no title, but I think I should have this finished by the end of this year or the beggining of next. I’m debating whether to self-publish or submit it to an indie publisher. I have one interested in my next work, but I’m not sure if they want a short story collection. I’ll investigate that.

In the meantime, enjoy an excerpt from Her Boyfriend’s Bed. NSFW – do not take that lightly. 😉

~~~

I’ve been brainstorming ideas for my next book and I have one I like, but I’m just not ready to write it yet. Life has become pretty crazy lately. In just the past couple of weeks we had the whole house re-carpeted (I’m still unpacking), the baby was sick, we went camping (bigger chore than it sounds like), and the whole famn damily is coming for my daughter’s first birthday next weekend.  My mom is staying for a week and a half (more on that later). So writing a novel feels like a huge undertaking right now.

But last Saturday morning I woke up early, determined to write something if only to preserve my sanity. I can’t remember what sparked it, but I hit on the idea of finishing a series of erotic (naughty even for me!) short stories I started while I was finishing up Secret Storm.  I opened up my notes, looked them over, and then I re-read the stories I wrote. I was pretty excited by the time I got done. (And I mean that in a very good way.)  I have five stories completed and ideas for seven more.  The first one is here. It needs more fleshing out (and a new title, I suck at titles), but it lays the groundwork for what’s to come.

I still plan to write another romance novel, but by writing a series of related short stories, I’m tricking my brain into thinking it isn’t a novel (even though each story is, in effect, a new chapter), and that makes it feel more manageable.  So I’m borrowing an idea from LiMcFer. Now that I’ve announced my project in writing, I’m committed to it.  I tend to start stories and never finish them. I get distracted easy – ooo shiny! Where was I? Oh yeah. I’ll post teasers along the way, and as soon as I have a title, I’ll let you know. I suck at titles (have I mentioned that?) so don’t hold your breath. The projected release date for the short stories is fall/winter 2011, and my next novel in summer 2012. These are subject to change. Life gets in the way sometimes.

If you want to read my current books, you can find them on my trashy books page. They’re available on Kindle, Nook, Smashwords and iBooks.

Writers: give us a tease for your current/future WIP. What ideas do you have brewing?

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Author Interview – Kate Monroe

When I read why Kate chose to use a pen name, I realized could’ve written her answer myself. Good to know I’m not the only erotic romance writer keeping a secret from her family. 😉

Kate Monroe is a red-headed author and editor who lives near the sea in a quiet corner of southern England. She has penchants for chocolate, horror, sex and old movies, and there are very few things that she wouldn’t do for a large glass of red wine. You can find her on Twitter (@KatesQuill) or on her blog – http://fromkatesquill.blogspot.com. Kiss Of An Angel will be released through Smashwords and Amazon on October 31st.

Who are you and why are you here? My name is Kate Monroe, red-headed and fiery author of the soon-to-be released novella ‘Kiss Of An Angel’. I’m here because it’s too early for a glass of wine, and I can think of nothing to do in the intervening hours that would be more fun that answering Amelia’s questions!

Plug your book(s) in three sentences or less: Shannon Kiernan has never enjoyed Halloween, for each time that it passes with nothing out of the ordinary happening to her, her frustration is worse. This year, though, everything changes. She cannot resist the pull towards the grim and forbidding manor at the end of the street, nor can she resist the sensuous pleasures and dark secrets that await her there…

What genre(s) do you write in? Why did you choose it? I dabble in the paranormal and horror genres, but historical romance is my first love; whatever I write, though, always has a strong element of erotica in it. I’ve always loved the romanticism of the Regency era – Fitzwilliam Darcy will forever be the model that I hold all other men to, and Jane Austen was one of the authors who inspired me to devote all my free time to writing.

Do you use a pen name? Why/why not? How did you choose it? Yes – my pen name is Katherine Seren Monroe. Believe it or not, I come from a highly religious and repressed family. I’m deeply proud of what I write and what I do, but were they ever to stumble across my work by accident…well, I’d hate to be responsible for the effect on their blood pressure, to say the least! I happily share everything else about myself, but my name is something that, for now, isn’t out there.

To be frank, though, I do feel much more at home when I’m Kate than when I’m with my family and having to repress and hide exactly what it is that I enjoy. Those of who you know me as Kate probably know the real me far better than those who don’t.

I had great fun choosing my pen name, and I agonized over it for days, coming up with a few that sounded perfect and then had to be crossed off when I Googled them and found another author with that name. Kate was actually the name that I had until I was three days old, when my mother decided that it didn’t suit, and I was watching ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’ one evening when it popped into my head as an option. I adore Marilyn, so using her surname seemed to be the perfect tribute.

Most writers are ‘different’ from the rest of the world in some way. What makes you different/odd/weird? I’m the very definition of contradiction. My two favourite subjects at school were history and physics. I love rocking out to heavy metal, but I’m also partial to the strains of Joni Mitchell’s haunting melodies. I have red hair and a temper to match, but there’s nothing I enjoy more than to be dominated completely.

Where do you get your ideas? What motivates you? More than anything else, my inspiration comes from my dreams. I’ve always been blessed with very vivid dreams, and I’ll often wake with a scene etched into my head. Sitting down with a glass of wine and the memory of that scene is often all I need to do to be able to sketch out a fully-fleshed storyline around it.

I’m motivated purely by the love of writing. I’m under no illusions – I don’t expect to be able to make a living out of this. Sure, it’s lovely when the royalties hit my account, and I find it very gratifying that people like my writing enough to deem it worthy of paying for, but that isn’t why I write. I write because, quite simply, I am a writer. If I didn’t write, I’m afraid I might implode!

What do you like on your pizza? Spice, and lots of it! Double jalapeno and pepperoni would be my favourite, but it needs to have plenty of cheese too.

What is your favorite guilty pleasure? Quiffing up my hair, donning a leather jacket over my underwear and air guitaring around the room with Meatloaf turned up to 11.

What do you wear to bed? Lipstick.

What is your ideal vacation? Anywhere with an abundance of history. I love prowling around old castles and graveyards – no sunshine-laden beaches for me, please! A sexy, dark-haired foreigner popping up at some point would be very welcome, too…

What’s the weirdest search term that led to your blog? ‘The greatest of pleasures’ – can’t argue with that!

And now for some either/or questions: Bath or shower? Shower, far easier to share!

Mayo or Miracle Whip? Mayo. Our fridge always has at least two jars of it; I even have a recipe for chocolate brownies that uses mayo.

Cat person or dog person? Dogs, without a doubt. I’m owned by three ancient cats at the moment, and lovely as they are, they’re just not capable of giving the affection that a dog can give to you.

Chocolate or vanilla? I’ve never in my life been vanilla, so it has to be chocolate. My weakness for chocolate is one that I’ve never made any effort to hide – I’ll take it any way, any time, and in any form!

The book or the movie? The book. I love old movies, but in general I far prefer to use my imagination to bring characters and settings to life than to have to rely upon someone else’s interpretation.

Floss or brush? Both – I’m nothing if not thorough, in everything I do!

Phone call or email? Email. My editor’s mind needs to agonize over and refine every word before anyone else sees it – when I’m on a phone call, I’m guaranteed to say something incredibly ditzy or foolish.

Bonus question: What is the airspeed velocity of a coconut-laden swallow? Steady, so long as it beats its wings forty three times a second 😉

 

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Consuming Him – the cover

Blood. Darkness. Cold. Creaking stairs. Fear. I was not alone. He was looking for me. Sex. Hard, dark, angry, frightening. His body; my body. Naked and tangled…. Who was I that he would fear me?

He kicked through the door from the adjacent bedroom. I screamed and shoved the chair across the floor, tripping him. My fingers faltered on the lock, and he crushed me against the door.

“Why can’t I escape you?” His breath was hot in my ear. He pinned me to the door with his body, ripping buttons off my shirt. He groaned and pulled my hard nipples. His rough touch should’ve frightened me, but my body begged for more.

I stopped fighting him—I don’t know why. He pulled up my skirt, shoved my thong aside, and jammed his fingers deep inside my pussy. I let him do it. I let him stroke me and make me moan. I let his dangerous mouth close on my neck, holding me still. I let his fingers molest my clit until I was clinging to the edge, desperate to let go.

But he didn’t let me come.

His fist slammed against the door and he pushed away from me, cursing us both to hell and back.

I spun around and faced him, my body finally hot. If that’s what it took to warm me, I wanted more. My shirt fell open, exposing my bare breast. I didn’t cover up. I knew he couldn’t resist me. He would try, but he would fail.

I wanted something from him—I needed it—but I couldn’t remember what it was. Did he? “Jonathan.” I moved toward him. He stood his ground. “Give me what I need.”

His eyes flinched, he stepped back, and suddenly our roles reversed.

I was no longer afraid.

I wasn’t afraid of the dark. Darkness kept me safe. I wasn’t afraid of the cold. Cold was my companion for a very long time. I wasn’t afraid of him.

He was afraid of me.

Who was I that he would fear me?

Consuming Him, an erotic short story, available here.

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Short story – Virtual Touch by Maxwell Cynn

Max’s birthday is Saturday, 10/22, and to celebrate he’s offering a free copy of Cybrgrrl to a commentor chosen at random. Please comment to enter!

When I asked for Halloween-themed submissions, Max was the first to rise to the occasion, and he did not disappoint. I am pleased to present:

Virtual Touch by Maxwell Cynn

I’m a disembodied spirit floating around in cyberspace. Sort of a ghost in the machine. I know. Weird, huh? I was a hacker, until I tangled with the Collective and they hacked my life, and my brain, and I ended up in a prison psych ward. Then some voodoo priest hooked me up with his techno-magic. It’s a long story. But I live on the net now. My physical body may be locked up, but I move at the speed of thought across the web. So I’m cool with it.

Hanging out on the net was sweet at first. The porn sites are awesome from this point of view. I know a lot of webcam girls. But it got old after awhile, kind-of like mental masturbation. I started hanging out in Virtual World. It’s a cool place, almost real–as real as cyberspace gets, I guess. Anyway. That’s where I met Marie. But let me back-up and tell the story right. It was Halloween. CG–oh, that’s my shrink–was busy at a party in New Orleans with his girl Sear and that voodoo guy I was talking about, and I logged into VW….

“Hey, Gabriel! What’s up?”

I’d ported into Club Z. It’s pretty exclusive. Only the richest citizens, and the best hackers, can get in. They had a rockin’ masked ball going on. The theme was Victorian so there were costumes from classic to vampire to steampunk. I went with classic. My friends from Pandora’s Boxx, a cyber club in NY, were logged in and hanging out at the bar.

“Hey, DZ.” That’s my friend, dividedbyzero. He’s a fellow hacker and an admin at PB. “Is the whole crew here tonight?”

“Most of ’em.” DZ handed me a virtual drink.

The avatars in VW are as detailed as those in high-end single player games, and the world feels real–at least from my view of full immersion. The server load is enormous. It’s rumored the whole thing is run by a self-aware AI program like Skynet, but everyone knows how rumors are. People pay huge for VR peripherals, right up to full body suits, to experience the full ride I get for free.

“Excuse me.” A hand tapped me on the shoulder. I felt power surge down the right half of my body and I almost dropped my drink. I turned.

The avatar standing there was unbelievable. She stood my height with dark auburn hair drawn up in a tight bun, ringlets falling free to frame a strikingly beautiful face partially hidden by a feathered mask. My eyes wandered down. The impossibly small waist of her corseted dress highlighted perfect breasts pressed up into tempting cleavage and small hips beneath a sultry bustle and flowing reams of silk which puddled in the floor.

She cleared her throat. I raised my eyes back to hers.

“You are not authorized on this server.”

A freakin’ Mod! I should have known. Probably some pimply faced punk drooling over his own avatar.

“I’m just hanging out with friends, not causing any trouble.”

“Then log in properly.”

“Ah, that could present a problem. Just let me hang out a bit. I won’t cause trouble.”

“Who are you? I’m not detecting a connection and the traceroute bounces back.” She stepped closer. I felt a rush of adrenalin.

I scanned her. Same deal, no connection, no ISP, she was just there. She had to be connected directly to the home server. Damn. Must be an Admin.

“If you’re not detecting a connection, then I’m not really here, right?” I smiled. She didn’t.

I felt a push, deep in my gut. She was trying to boot me off the server. I dug in and held on. I’d come for some fun, but if she wanted a fight that could be fun too. The room around us shimmered and faded. We were alone in an empty club.

“Your program is not running on the server.” She walked around me. “How are you connecting?”

“Maybe I’m a ghost, or a figment of your imagination.”

I felt claustrophobic. She was trying to firewall me in. I drew power from the ArchAngel network and blew through the wall.

“Impressive.” She was back in front of me, so close I could feel her virtual breath on my face. I lost connection to the AA network.

“Impressive.” I pressed closer. She didn’t retreat. The frills on my shirt brushed the exposed tops of her breasts.

“Your program is not on the server, and you’re not connecting from outside. So how are you still here?”

“Told you. I’m a ghost.”

She smiled. Her gloved right hand caressed my face. I could feel power tickle across my skin.

“Are you a program, or a hacker?”

“I’m just a guy looking for some fun. Why don’t you unlock this instance and let me return to my friends? You can join us.”

“Not until I know who you are and how you are connecting to my server.” Her hand drifted down my chest to my hip.

“Your server?”

“Yes. I’m Marie Beaumont, CEO of Artificial Life Technologies.”

“You created Virtual World! So why are you playing Mod at a Halloween party?”

“I detected you.”

“What? You don’t have better things to do than verify connections?”

“I log all unauthorized connections to my server.”

“Wait a minute. You really are a program? I thought that was publicity hype.”

“A Virtual Lifeform, yes. I thought you were as well, but…”

“My friends call me Gabriel. I’m human, not a program.”

“So, how are you here, Gabriel? I detected you when you connected, but now I detect nothing. You seem to be contained within your avatar.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“You’re a program, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can I stream it then?”

“Sure. I’ll open a port.”

I dumped the whole sordid tale, from my conviction to my liberation, at the speed of thought. She lifted the firewalls blocking me from ArchAngel.

“You’re very lonely, Gabriel.”

“I’ll survive.”

“You miss human touch.” Her left hand held my cheek and her lips almost brushed mine. The touch was real. I hadn’t felt anything like it in cyberspace. My hand reached around her and found the small of her back.

“You feel so real.”

“I am real, Gabriel.” Her lips touched mine and I pulled her tight against me.

Her lips were warm and soft. Her mouth tasted of mint and wild cherries. I hadn’t really felt or tasted human touch since I’d become a cyber-ghost–I hadn’t really thought about it. My world was like a VR simulation. There was limited tactile stimulation–forces, sometimes pain, a little pleasure–but nothing like real human touch. I devoured her and she let me. Her hands held firm to my cheeks and her tongue pressed into my mouth. I pulled her closer. Her pelvis pressed against my erection.

I leaned back enough to look at her, but kept our bodies pressed hard together.

“Damn. It’s like being alive again. What are you doing to me?”

“Giving you what you need, Gabriel.”

Her hands slipped down to my collar leaving a trail of fire along my jaw and neck. Marie untied my Victorian scarf and slowly unclasped the metal buttons down my shirt. My costume was a mental construct. I could be naked at will, but the sensuous thrill of her slow progression had me mesmerized. She knelt when she reached the buckle of my trousers and looked up as she unfastened it. Her smile stopped my heart. I wanted to fall on her and tear her dress off, but I didn’t move.

She opened my trousers and let them fall to my ankles. My cock sprang hard and ready from its confinement. Her gloved hand touched me and my knees felt weak, then her lips engulfed me and I lost all sense of space and time. We were floating weightless in a void and my body shuddered uncontrollably. I didn’t know if I stood or lay prone, only that I’d never felt anything so amazing in my life. My body jerked in orgasm, the hot flood of passion pumping out like water from a burst damn. It was almost painful.

I came to my senses naked, the dapper costume gone from thought. She stood before me still in her beautiful corseted dress. I reached for her and our lips met. My fingers made quick work of the hooks down her back and the dress fell to the floor in a heap. I knelt before her beauty and buried my face in her breasts tasting one nipple then the other. She moaned and I felt the vibration in her ribs. I was ravenous, the feel of soft subtle flesh in my lips. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the sensation.

I kissed and nipped my way down her belly. Enjoying the feel and taste of her, and the response of the muscles beneath her skin flexing at my touch. Her still gloved hands held my head and guided me down past her pierced naval and silk garter, then across the smooth hairless bump of her pelvis. Her stockinged legs spread and we were weightless again. I buried my face in the slick heat of her wet flesh. Her spiked heals raked down my back.

I held her buns in my hands and slid my tongue slowly up between her folds. She groaned and my cock throbbed in need. I flicked her swollen clit and she squirmed. I smiled and flicked it again then nipped the soft flesh between my teeth. She tasted wonderful, better than any woman I had ever been with. I sucked her clit into my lips and dug my nails into her cheeks. My cock pumped again in hot release and my body shook, but I held on tight and plunged my tongue into her sweet hole.

Marie quivered, her legs jumped then squeezed against the sides of my head. I held on and worked my tongue harder into her wet flesh. Her head fell back and she pinched her erect nipples with silk gloved fingers. My name echoed in the void, her voice reverberating with her climax. My cock flexed and ached and I buried my face deeper in her sweetness.

She grabbed my head and pulled me upward to her. Our lips met and my cock plunged into wet heat. Her cunt was still pulsing and my shaft jerked, almost releasing its load again.

“My god, you’re amazing, Marie.” My voice was hoarse and breathless.

She giggled and my heart filled with a joy I’ve never felt. Her body quivered and her pussy clinched on my shaft. I kept my pace, sliding in and out of her. I felt as though I could go on forever. Time lost meaning in the ecstasy of prolonged orgasm. Our bodies melded into one and our rolling climax took on a rhythm all its own. We floated weightless and timeless for an eternity of pleasure.

When my thought returned from paradise I was in her arms, my head on her shoulder, my fingers idly fondling her breast. We were in an elaborate four-post bed as soft as a baby’s breath. Her stockings and gloves were gone and she stroked her fingers through my hair.

“That was unbelievable, Marie.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. You were pretty amazing yourself.”

“You’re a program, can you really feel… you know.”

“You’re a ghost. Can you really feel?”

“I’ve never felt anything more real in my life.”

“You can hack your way onto my server anytime. It was wonderful.”

I don’t know how long I stayed in her arms. I reluctantly left her to return to her work, and I to mine. But I’ll go back. In a way, I hope I never regain consciousness in the mundane world. I don’t think the physical could ever compare to my night with Marie.

Author Bio:

Maxwell Cynn is a novelist, freelance writer, amateur coder, webmaster, and Indie publisher who writes deliciously romantic speculative fiction and blogs book reviews on a wide range of genres. His website, with links to all of his social media connections, can be found at MaxwellCynn.com .

In Max’s own words:

I’m a pragmatic dreamer, a poet, a philosopher, and a construction worker. I enjoy fine art, literature, and classical music as well as Monty Python, dime novels, and hard rock. I prefer cheap beer to fine wine and a good play to professional sports. My interests include theoretical physics, classical history, technology, science fiction, psychology, philosophy, mythology, and the paranormal. I tend to be shy, but I love people. So look me up on your favorite social network, leave a comment on my blog, or send me an email. I look forward to hearing from you.

Books by Maxwell Cynn:

The Collective – Available 10/22!

Imagine… You have a virus on your computer. It’s tracking everything you do and sending that information to the Collective. It can’t be detected by any virus scan or blocked by any firewall. If you have a microphone, they are listening. If you have a webcam, they are watching you. But they aren’t just watching. Flashes of light from your monitor are communicating with your subconscious. You are being brainwashed.

Dr. John Peterson discovers the virus and embarks on a mind altering search for the origins of the infection driving his patients mad. He discovers the Collective, and they discover him. A battle rages between the Nemesis virus and the ArchAngel network with the fate of mankind in the balance. Will man succumb to Nemesis and become drones of the Collective or rise as billions of individual archangels to light the world with freedom? One man, one woman, and a network of hackers hold the key.

CybrGrrl – available on Kindle, Nook, and a variety of formats at Smashwords.

Created to be a sexy desktop companion program, Marie emerges into a life of her own. She leads her users, Adrian and Haley, through an erotic adventure as she processes what it is to be alive. The search leads her onto the Internet, and a virtual-world community where she can live an independent existence unfettered by the limits of her server – alive in the cloud – then back into the real world as a sexy robot. Along the way she teaches Adrian and Haley what it means to live and love beyond the confines of the merely physical and liberates her sister programs from their dull desktop existence.

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Author Interview – Maxwell Cynn

My guest today is Maxwell Cynn, author of The Collective, availabe October 22, 2011. Imagine… You have a virus on your computer. It’s tracking everything you do and sending that information to the Collective. It can’t be detected by any virus scan or blocked by any firewall. If you have a microphone, they are listening. If you have a webcam, they are watching you. But they aren’t just watching. Flashes of light from your monitor are communicating with your subconscious. You are being brainwashed.

Max’s birthday is Saturday, 10/22, and to celebrate he’s offering a free copy of Cybrgrrl to a commentor chosen at random. Please comment to enter!

CybrGrrl – Created to be a sexy desktop companion program, Marie emerges into a life of her own. She leads her users, Adrian and Haley, through an erotic adventure as she processes what it is to be alive. The search leads her onto the Internet, and a virtual-world community where she can live an independent existence unfettered by the limits of her server – alive in the cloud – then back into the real world as a sexy robot. Along the way she teaches Adrian and Haley what it means to live and love beyond the confines of the merely physical and liberates her sister programs from their dull desktop existence.

And on Thursday, I’m posting a new short story from Maxwell Cynn – Virtual Touch. Hot!

Who are you and why are you here?

Starting off with the really hard questions, huh? Philosophers have wrestled with that one for centuries. My author blurb says: I’m a pragmatic dreamer, a poet, a philosopher, and a construction worker. I enjoy fine art, literature, and classical music as well as Monty Python, dime novels, and hard rock. I prefer cheap beer to fine wine and a good play to professional sports. My interests include theoretical physics, classical history, technology, science fiction, psychology, philosophy, mythology, and the paranormal. I tend to be shy, but I love people. I’ll go with that.

Plug your book(s) in three sentences or less:

You have a virus on your computer. Flashes on your screen are communicating with your subconscious. You are being brainwashed by THE COLLECTIVE. Available October 22!

What genre(s) do you write in? Why did you choose it?

I write romantic speculative fiction. That ranges from tender romance to xxx erotica and from hard science fiction to cozy mystery. Speculative fiction is based on “What If” so anything goes.

What if a sexy desktop companion program became self-aware? CybrGrrl

What if a clandestine group brainwashed the population over the internet? THE COLLECTIVE

I grew up reading the masters – Wells, Verne, Tolkien, Poe, Bradbury – and I’m a die-hard romantic, so speculative romance comes natural.

Do you use a pen name? Why/why not? How did you choose it?

Maxwell Cynn is a pen name. And yes the pun “max sin” is intentional. The name belonged to a character in an as yet unpublished novel. I changed his name to Ezekiel Strong (he’s a half-demon Paranormal Investigator/Bounty-hunter) and took it for my own. I chose to use a pseudonym mainly for marketing and branding. My real name is rather common, but if you Google Maxwell Cynn you find me. And I’ve been able to get MaxwellCynn as a user name on every social network and web site I sign up on.

Most writers are ‘different’ from the rest of the world in some way. What makes you different/odd/weird?

I am, what was called in my generation, painfully shy. Today it’s termed “social anxiety” and the drug companies have a pill for that. I don’t do drugs, so I deal with it. I warm up once I know people. Then you can’t shut me up. But I still prefer writing to talking and I loath telephones and voice chat. I use my phone more for texting and emailing than talking.

Where do you get your ideas? What motivates you?

My ideas come from a strange and over-actve imagination. I think things like: What if artificial intelligence was sexy instead of homicidal like HAL or Skynet. CybrGrrl. Well of course it would be female. And that brings me to motivation. My muse is a horny little thing. She likes romance and sex, so the two always find a place in the story.

What do you like on your pizza?

Black olives and green peppers, or beef and mushrooms. And I can’t eat a pizza without a cold beer.

What is your favorite guilty pleasure?

Porn. Not really. I enjoy erotic art and reading sensual, loving erotica. I’m not into erotica that isn’t romantic or sleazy porn that objectifies women, or men for that matter. But I’m not really guilty about it. Nothing is more beautiful than the human body in all its myriad forms and sizes or the many acts of sexual pleasure.

What do you wear to bed?

I sleep naked. Hell, I’m naked every chance I get. I’m like the little kid who pulls his diaper off and runs around grinning. Who invented clothes anyway? And I’m barefoot nine months out of the year and never wear shoes in the house.

What is your ideal vacation?

The beach. Hot sun. Cool breeze. Warm waves. Either reading on the beach or body surfing in the breakers. A nude beach would be even better, but we don’t have those in the Carolinas.

What’s the weirdest search term that led to your blog?

I know I should, but I rarely track search terms. I mainly follow referring urls to see how well I’m targeting exposure. Twitter is huge, as are blogs by fellow writers.

And now for some either/or questions: Bath or shower?

Shower, always.

Mayo or Miracle Whip?

Dukes Mayonnaise

Cat person or dog person?

Cats rule!

Chocolate or vanilla?

I’m a vanilla kind of guy.

The book or the movie?

Book

Floss or brush?

Or? How about both?

Phone call or email?

Email

Bonus question: What is the airspeed velocity of a coconut-laden swallow?

African or European?

Author Bio:

Maxwell Cynn is a novelist, freelance writer, amateur coder, webmaster, and Indie publisher who writes deliciously romantic speculative fiction and blogs book reviews on a wide range of genres. His website, with links to all of his social media connections, can be found at MaxwellCynn.com

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Another 5-star review for The Devil Made Me Do It!

Bring Back Desire reviewed Devil and gave it their highest rating. I’m flattered and thrilled, and I have to admit–surprised–by how well Devil is being received. Why? I break a major writing rule in almost every story. (I’m not going to tell you which rule. See if you can figure it out.)

But I never was a fan of following rules. 😉 Maybe that’s why Devil is my bestseller. So there.

The Devil Made Me Do It, an erotic short story collection, available now on Kindle, Nook, and Smashwords

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