Amber’s hijacked my blog today. She’s talking about I Wanna Sext U Up, her awesome release. So grab a chair, pay attention and leave a comment to show your love!
Sex in living room. On the couch. On the coffee table. Sex up against the refrigerator. Sex on the countertop. Sex on the kitchen table. Sex in the bedroom. Sex in a limo. And I’m only on page 12 of my current WIP! LOL I’m wiped out. Literally.
Do you ever feel you’re reading too much sex?
My H/H haven’t really had that much sex yet, but pretty damn close. I’m suddenly having trouble getting my H/H into the sack as often as some publishers would like. Some of my fellow writer friends and I joke about getting that sex scene in by page three.
I have trouble writing sex between two people who’ve only known each other for thirty seconds. I mean seriously. Would you have sex with someone you barely said hello to? I think not. Unless it’s your paid profession and if you’re reading this I doubt it is.
I like the build-up. All the sexual tension, the desires, the needs, the craving the hero and heroine feel for one another before they actually take that final step and cross the finish line.
Take for instance another WIP I’m working on. I’m on page 76 and none of the three ladies have had sex yet. There’s been a close encounter, leaving my heroine breathless and dying for an orgasm. It’s the building of sexual tension that I love creating, because I know once they finally do the deed – sparks will fly and the orgasms will be combustible.
That’s the beauty of being a writer. If I’m not in the mood to write sex I can write a contemporary romance with no, or behind closed doors sex. If I’m in the mood I can have my characters going at like bunnies.
But honestly, have you ever finished a book and wondered how the hell is the heroine still walking?
Available now from Loose Id
Tool belt…check. Rope…check. Lube…check. Violet Wand…Check.
Beckett Manning, the host of Room Makeovers is ready to give Riley Anderson more than a remodeled kitchen. He’s about to bring her to the edge of ecstasy and back. Whether it’s hot sex in the bathtub or Riley hog-tied to the bed, he’s determined to show this brazen beauty how sexually desired she is.
A simple text leads to a case of mistaken communication and before long Riley finds herself tied to her bed and being driven to distraction. Beckett knows how to tease and torture every inch of her skin. He also knows his way around an orgasm, which keeps Riley wanting more.
It’s over, Riley. U r just no good in bed. Boring in fact. I moved my things out earlier.
Riley Anderson read the text for the hundredth time. She’d kept it to remind her of the asshole she’d spent too many years with. The words served as a reminder of her anger and resentment for the jerk who hadn’t had the decency to break up with her face-to-face. No, he had to do it over text.
“Aaargh!” Riley raised the sledgehammer again. She brought the hammer down on the kitchen cabinet with every ounce of strength her arms possessed. “This is for you, dirtbag.” She sent the iron head crashing into another wooden door. “Not good in bed? Why, because I didn’t get off on choking you until you almost passed out?”
Aside from the last year of their relationship when Terry wanted to explore darker sexual activities, Riley had believed they had a great thing going. She thought for sure he would be the man she’d marry. When she’d bought the house, it was with the intention that someday Terry would be her husband and they’d fill the spare bedrooms with children. How wrong she’d been.
The hammer smashed into the wood door of the overhead cabinet.
“Because passing out wasn’t fun? Fuck you, Terry.”
She repeatedly pounded away at the cabinets until she’d destroyed them all. “That’ll fix your ass, Terry.”
She stood back and assessed the damage. She’d managed to tear apart the kitchen in less than an hour. Her arms were sore from the weight of the tiny wrecking ball, but that didn’t matter. She’d accomplished something her ex had only promised her for the last year of their relationship. She’d started the renovation of the kitchen.
Now that Terry had been gone for nine months, she’d do it on her own. She didn’t need him to remodel. Riley was a smart woman. They’d watched the home-improvement channels so much during their relationship, she felt secure enough to do the job alone. She’d be her own fix-it handywoman.
“Guess I’d better go to the home-improvement store and get a move on this.” She leaned the wooden handle of the hammer against the cracked wood of the cabinet and wiped her hands together.
Satisfaction filled her soul.
Riley retrieved her purse and keys from the Formica countertop and headed out the door, one destination in mind. The local chain home repair store.
The ride to the store was a blur. Her only thoughts were what steps she’d need to take to get the work done. She’d have to put in new cabinets. She wanted new appliances. Stainless steel. Granite countertops were a must. Those Formica ones just wouldn’t cut it any longer.
She pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car.
“Time to buy a new kitchen.”
Confidence radiated from her as she stepped into the large store. She felt proud. She had a project to do while she was on vacation. It’d likely take her longer than the week, but it would be a start.
Riley turned to see if the man behind the sexy baritone was talking to her. She was surprised to see a gorgeous man holding a microphone walking toward her, a cameraman following closely behind him.
“Yes,” she whispered. Dear God, please don’t be from the news. The last thing I need is to be on the local news looking disheveled.
“Hi, I’m Beckett Manning. I’m from Room Makeovers. Are you remodeling any rooms in your house today?”
Holy shit! Riley’s jaw must have fallen to the floor. She’d seen the show a couple of times. Beckett looked ten times hotter in person. When she decided it was time to change the eighties-style kitchen, she’d begun watching all those makeover shows on the cable channel. Terry had watched with her, promising they’d do the kitchen soon. Soon never came. The only thing Terry had managed to do was cheat on her with some bimbo. Years of promises vanished out the window along with Terry’s things.