Wednesday, 27 March 2019

CHAOS SONGS is in the wild!

The big day has finally arrived! CHAOS SONGS, book five of the Blood Canticles series,* is unleashed! It's been a long time coming - when I started this book, I was living in the UK, and the move from there to the Netherlands really disrupted my writing. So there was a big gap between the starting and the finishing of CHAOS SONGS, which left me feeling kinda tired of it at some points.

But now it's here! And I love it! And you're going to love it too! There are so many moments in the book that make me feel all giddy and excited, and as I work on book six, Void Dreams, it's important for me to remember that giddiness. And I'm really hoping Lola and Tristesse's continued adventures leave you feeling giddy too.

Chaos magic makes anything possible. Even the unthinkable.

Lola and Tristesse have defeated one enemy, but Gehenna isn’t finished with them yet. A way home seems impossible. And while Lola struggles with the magical bond she forged with the mysterious patrons, the Shrouded Guard are still hunting them down.

Forced into strange alliances with rebel demons and an underground cult, Lola and Tristesse must decide what they’re willing to do - and to sacrifice - to escape. And if they don’t decide fast, the choice may be taken from them.

Buy it now from Evernight Publishing, Amazon US, Amazon UK, and wherever else you get your ebooks. 

*Book five?! Can you even believe it?

Monday, 14 January 2019

Red Hot News!

I've just signed the contract for CHAOS SONGS, book five in the Blood Canticles series! This feels like it's been a long time coming. I didn't have any books in the series out last year, know... the whole move-to-Amsterdam affair. I got pretty distracted, and then pretty worried the book was terrible, and then I wrote a completely different book.

Anyway! I'm thrilled to be able to finally say that Tristesse and Lola's next adventure is coming soon - hopefully April. Stay tuned for more news! In the meantime, here's the (unedited blurb) for your edification.

Chaos magic makes anything possible. Even the unthinkable.

Lola and Tristesse have defeated one enemy, but Gehenna isn’t finished with them yet. A way home seems impossible. And while Lola struggles with the magical bond she forged with the mysterious patrons, the Shrouded Guard are still hunting them down.

Forced into strange alliances with rebel demons and an underground cult, Lola and Tristesse must decide what they’re willing to do - and to sacrifice - to escape. And if they don’t decide fast, the choice may be taken from them.

Tuesday, 1 January 2019

The Year of the Bennu

Happy 2019, folks! I hope you had a great 2018, and that if you didn't, this year is better. In fact, I hope this year is better regardless, because that's how life should work in my opinion.

As is tradition for me now, I am naming 2019 after a mythical creature. This is to give me an idea of the shape of my year, to help me remember my goals, and to remind me that we make our own magic.

Shel Silverstein

2018 was The Year of the Kappa, a creature I associate with emotional balance (and also drowning people, but nobody's perfect). I was coming off the back of a battle with depression and seeking to regain balance in my life in lots of areas. What I didn't know at the start of the year was that I'd be leaving the UK and starting over in the Netherlands mid-year, which was a massive challenge to that balancing act! But I achieved it, goddammit, and even though my creativity fluctuated as a result of the move, I still feel proud of what I accomplished last year. We worked through the huge upheaval of relocating. I quit my job of seven years, leaving behind some amazing people, and found a new job that has a ton of potential. I finished Chaos Songs, released a few titles as Amber Morgan, and pitched to Choice of Games. Chaos Songs is now on submission, and I'm almost halfway through my next Amber Morgan book already, thanks to some good writing habits I put in place for myself in late 2018.

All in all, it was a hell of a strange, exciting, and ultimately wonderful year. And now it's gone, and it's time to name a new year.

Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd do it this year. No obvious animal was leaping out at me, until this morning (literally just thirty minutes ago), when my sleep-addled brain yelled BIRDS at me. See, there are a lot of herons round our new neighbourhood, and I've become slightly obsessed with them since we moved. When I was job hunting over August and early September, I saw the same heron every day, patiently standing at the water's edge, always unruffled, always calm. Come rain or shine, he was there, doing what he needed to do.

And it felt to me like Friend Heron was a reminder to me that I needed to take the same approach to finding a new job. Stay calm, stay focused, do the work. And that has been good advice in so many areas of my life in the latter half of this year. So of course, what better animal to take into 2019 with me than a mythical heron?

The bennu is an Ancient Egyptian deity linked with the sun, creation, and rebirth, said to be the inspiration for the phoenix. He is a self-created being who played a role in the creation of the world, known as "He Who Came Into Being By Himself." I love that! My goals for 2019 are, as always, largely focused on creativity, so who better to guide me through that than a creator god with links to  a bird I love?

My plans are, in no particular order, to finish writing the Blood Canticles series, to finish my Ravenstone Vampires series, to re-open my perfume shop in a stripped-back form, and to write at least one other book. If I can keep up the productivity I managed in December, that's all pretty doable. I'm also focusing on learning to at least read Dutch to a good level, and as usual, there's some personal health and fitness aims, but mostly on that front I'll just be happy if I can stop myself eating so many waffles.

So! Welcome to the Year of the Bennu. He's creative, steadfast, and bright, and let's hope 2019 is too.

Sunday, 9 December 2018

"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes."

So! It's been a hell of a while, right? I've been dark here for a while (though, as always, the best place to see what I'm up to is Facebook or Twitter), because as you may recall, earlier this year Nero was offered an amazing job in Amsterdam. After a lot of soul-searching, we decided to take the plunge. We moved at the end of July, and since then, it's been...well, there's been a lot of pancakes.

There's fruit on it, so technically speaking it's one of my five a day.

There's been a lot of other things too. We lived in a fancy hotel for a while when we first got here and were house-hunting. Luckily for us, it was a pet-friendly hotel, so Yuki was able to be a five-star luxury cat for a few weeks.

Her life is pain.

She handled it as best she could, but I'll be honest - even a five-star hotel is still a hotel, and it was a massive relief to move into our new home in mid-August. We're in a quiet neighbourhood just outside of Amsterdam, surrounded by canals, ducks, and herons, and I absolutely love it here. Miss Yuki has settled in nicely, too.

Mijn kat is buiten

While Nero started his new job pretty much straight away, I spent August and early September job-hunting before finally landing a new role in mid-September. Yay! It's with a company I really like so far, doing work I genuinely believe in and that makes a difference to people's lives. And as an added bonus, the hours are pretty flexible, and I now have a much shorter commute to and from the office, so I have more writing time! Not to mention more time to explore Amsterdam.

Classic Netherlands.

I was apprehensive about the move, in all honesty. We've both left behind good friends, beloved family, jobs we were happy in, and a city we knew well and have lots of amazing memories of. And although I do miss my people, I have fallen in love with Amsterdam. It's vibrant and interesting, and has many fine pancake houses, and I now get the pleasure of showing people around when they come to stay, which I love doing!

So, it's taken a few months, but I feel settled in now, and have finally learned which way to look when I cross the road (not that it helps).

And in between all the moving, house-hunting, job-hunting, and waffle-eating, I have been writing. I did lose my rhythm leading up to the move (honestly, part of the reason I'm so glad I love it here is because I NEVER WANT TO PUT MY LIFE INTO BOXES, PUT THE BOXES ON A FERRY, TRAVEL ACROSS AN OCEAN, PUT THE BOXES IN A HOTEL AND LIVE OUT OF THE BOXES FOR A MONTH EVER AGAIN), and I really stalled on Chaos Songs for several months.

Instead, I ended up writing an Amber Morgan book that I adore, and which should be out later this month, and collaborating on another project with Olivia R Burton, which was just tons of fun (and you should check it out). I got back to Chaos Songs in September and was determined to finish it in September... and then in October... and then in November... and then it turned out this was quite a hard book to write because I really wanted to stay true to the rules of the world I've developed since BLOOD WITCH, whilst at the same time letting my characters progress, and, well, it was hard work.

But I finally wrapped the book up this weekend. Huzzahs! I feel kinda exhausted, but fired up at the same time, because now I can start thinking seriously about the next two (and last) books in the Blood Canticles series. My goal is write them both in 2019 if I can, although the next project on my list is another Amber Morgan book. I've been pushing myself since we moved to look at ways of increasing my writing productivity and managing my writing time better, and I have some plans in place to make sure I stay focused and busy in 2019. So hopefully I can bring you more books that you guys love as much as me!

I'm probably not going to get back to a regular blogging schedule, apart from to share news, as I think time spent blogging could better be spent writing. The same goes for the newsletter (which you may have noticed hasn't exactly been happening anyway, but in my defence, I've had a lot going on). So again, Facebook and Twitter are the best places to see what's going on and I love to make friends, so come on and say hi!

Leidseplein being all festive.

Saturday, 23 June 2018

Peri Elizabeth Scott is here with NOTHING IN MY HEART

Happy Saturday, folks! It's a glorious sunny day here in Cambridge, and I'm off to a bbq shortly with a large supply of lamb marinaded in the world's second hottest chili pepper. So if you never hear from me again, it's because my head exploded.

If you're less of a sun-lover and more of a stay-indoor-and-read type (as I am, to be honest), I have a recommendation for you! Peri Elizabeth Scott is here with NOTHING IN MY HEART. Take a look and have a great weekend!


Feeling trapped into marriage, Beckett Kilmer doesn’t hide his disdain for his young wife, although he certainly wants her physically.

Grace didn’t deliberately trap the man she loves, but ignorance is no defense, neither in a court of law nor the law according to Beckett.

When she loses their baby, he is kind and supportive but remains distant. Grace despairs, also trapped—but by the skeins of love that bind her.

Mysteriously finding herself capable of resisting him, she plans to assert her independence when Beckett comes to his senses, recognizing his reprehensible behavior. He strives to make amends and convince Grace to reconsider.

Still determined to leave, she then finds out she is pregnant again and Beckett redoubles his efforts to repair their relationship. Can Grace find it within herself to forgive and trust him again?

Beckett’s big form blanketed her far smaller one as he increased his thrusts, driving her toward that cliff of mindless insensibility her orgasms always conferred. He braced his weight on his forearms, head tucked into her throat, lips tight against the sensitive juncture of neck and shoulder.
He’d slipped into bed, naked and urgently erect, stripping off her nightgown with a muttered imprecation before bestowing a hard kiss that caused her to open to him, his mastery of her senses chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.
Her body instantly responded, the flush of arousal dampening her core, nipples tightening with desire as his big hands cupped and molded her breasts. There was no need for additional foreplay although he tested her readiness with a finger before settling between her thighs and entering her.
It was a vastly familiar, nightly routine, one she desperately anticipated—to her shame—and their coupling tonight should have culminated the same way. With a climax, the sensation giving her the connection she craved, however fleeting, because that was all Beckett would give her.

About the Author:
Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada. She closed her part-time private practice as a social worker and child play therapist and now pretends to work well with her husband in their seasonal business.
Writing for years, along with her alter ego and three coauthors, she has published over 52 novels and reads most everything she can lay her hands on.

Thursday, 7 June 2018

Lea Bronsen is raising the heat levels!

Happy Thursday! The weekend is in sight and I personally cannot wait. In case you missed it over on Facebook, Nero and I are moving to Amsterdam at the end of July, and we're currently trying to reorganise our entire lives to make it happen. NO PRESSURE. So I'm looking forward to some escapism, and Lea Bronsen has the perfect read! I fell in love with Morocco when we visited in 2016. Now seems like the ideal time to revisit it with her new erotic romance...

Hi, and thank you for hosting me on your blog! I got the idea for this story after watching a video of French “globe cooker” Fred Chesneau visiting nomads in the Moroccan desert. They generously shared their food, home, and wisdom with a stranger, and I thought it would be cool to write about a female rally driver having the same experience. A Thorned Rose in the Sand is set in the beautiful, quiet dunes of western Sahara where the sun is so hot you can’t walk barefooted and you could go miles and miles without seeing a single soul. In this story, you’ll meet a badass 450cc rally motorcycle, an opinionated but gentle dromedary, and two highly strong-willed young persons from opposite sides of the planet who get off to a bad start then can’t keep their hands off each other 😊  

A Thorned Rose_banner.jpg

When life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a motorcycle rally across Morocco. But the real excitement is found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert.

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. He dreams of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty biker stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.  

Available from

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A Thorned Rose in the Sand-3D-eReader


The girl screamed behind him. “Eeeeee!”

Too hard to resist. Until now, Ragab had had a difficult time respecting her privacy, but surely, a scream called for attention. What kind of a gentleman would he be if he didn’t check on a woman in distress?

He spun and found her kneeling on her jacket, nude and wet, arms outstretched in shock. He bit down a laugh. Yes, the deep well water was cold, but one got used to it, and in the extreme heat of the desert, it was a blessing.

She turned, caught him staring, and even though he couldn’t see anything inappropriate, she hurried to cover her breasts and pubic area. “Look away!” she shouted, voice panicky.

The laugh bubbled inside him, but he obediently turned back to the motorcycle—then stood in such a way he could see her reflection in one of the side mirrors.

Oh, it was like watching a porn scene. Her long, red curls hung wild over her back and round, white butt cheeks. Every time she moved, a portion of her breasts appeared in the space between her ribs and arms. Such perfect feminine curves, all over. Imagine if he saw the front…

Blood rushed to his groin. Stiffening, bothered, he tore from the sight, walked over to the well, and leaned against its waist-high wall, hoping the hardness of the bricks and coolness from the water below would temper his arousal before it became a full-blown erection.

So silent…

He strained to hear.

Splashes. Muffled squeals. More splashes.

He turned slowly and stole a glance from the corner of his eye.

She washed her panties and black top in the bucket and leaned forward to spread them in the sun. Her position exposed the dark pink lips of her sex, from the tiny hole in her butt to the end of her slit, where her clitoris hid.


Shocked to his core, he turned back and groaned low, his cock hardening again.

He closed his eyes, drew long, slow breaths to calm the painful throbbing and counted minutes, trying to think of something else.

His dromedary, for example. It would be cool to show her how to ride it. What if he rode another one, and they both galloped on the dunes together, she laughing, ecstatic…

Then they’d roll in the sand, and he would tease her thighs apart and slide his hungry hardness into her dark pink lips, to the wet bottom of her. Oh, yes.

She called, “Ready?”

He risked a glance in her direction.

Wearing one of his sisters’ dresses and looking divine with her red curls floating behind her—and her face white and clean—she strolled to the motorcycle, carrying a bag and her clothes. She stuffed everything on top of the fuel tanks, got up, lifted the dress to her knees, and started the motor. Not once looking at him.  

About the author

Lea Bronsen

 Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and dark erotic romance.

Meet Lea Bronsen on

Tuesday, 29 May 2018

Time to Spice up your week with Kathrine Wyvern!

Happy Tuesday, folks! I'm off work today (extending that bank holiday weekend as far as possible), and although my main plan is writing, I'm also looking for a new book to read. I just finished a great one (The Castle of Earth and Embers), and I'm ready for something else. So it's perfect that Katherine Wyvern is here today with her latest release, SPICE AND VANILLA!

Dear Naomi,

Thanks for having me here today to talk about my new book!
When I began to write this story Raphael/Lucie was pretty well formed in my mind, but I was not very sure where the other two were going. They seemed to be accessory to Raphael’s complexity rather than fully fleshed out people. But the more I wrote of them, the more they came to life, sprouting their own personalities and opinions and back stories… it was surprising and slightly alarming, as I found myself dragged into a far bigger project than I had originally envisioned.
What is left of the original concept is that Di is vanilla and Hugh is the spice (oh dear, is he ever), and that these different flavors provide two very different, and equally necessary romances in Raphael’s life. I really wanted to write a story where three (four?) characters form a complex polyamorous relationship without closing the triangle, so to say, since Hugh and Di remain only friends. This is strangely unusual in Romance stories, but it seems a realistic and intriguing dynamic, worthy of exploring in fiction, as the negotiations and challenges involved are so much different and more delicate.

Time was, when Di could dance all night. Time was, when she could ride any horse in the stable. Time was when she had a fiancée, a future and a home she loved. Until a silver SUV came out of nowhere and broke her life in half.

Well concealed under a sarcastic, spiny hide, Hugh has a darkly romantic, passionate soul. Torn between love and terror, he’s held the talented, elegant, magnetic Raphael carefully at arm’s length since the day they met.

Male or female, men or women, kinky or sweet, top or bottom? Angel or devil? Raphael’s life is a string of unanswered questions. And Lucie, his long-hidden female self, may bring it all together or destroy everything he has.

Be warned: cross-dressing, gender-queer, explicit M/M and M/F sex, anal sex, spanking, flogging, bondage, forced orgasm, sex toys


Hugh watched him stroking away with great contentment. He was totally worn out after a crazy day at work, and it was not always easy to find the energy to satisfy such an enthusiastic masochist. There were days when he wished Raphael were a bit less fond of being spanked and whipped, but he always did his best to oblige him. The thought of his Raphael going out there looking for release from God-only-knows-whom, and getting hurt for real by some less scrupulous or talented Dom was just unbearable. Still, tonight he would lie back and relax. Mostly. I will have to help him eventually, he thought with a slightly evil grin, but I can take a breather first
Raphael stroked in perfect tempo. He was one of the most technically exact musicians Hugh had ever played with, after all. Too exact, in fact. 
It would do him so much good to let go a bit, to just go with the flow, be wild and imprecise and purely passionate. Then he would not need so much of this
Tick—tock—tick—tock—tick—tock, went the metronome, and Raphael stroked and stroked. It was a good while before Hugh could tell, from a small furrow between those blond eyebrows, that the unchanging, slow rhythm was beginning to frustrate him. He smiled a bit wider and said nothing, devouring his beautiful quarry with his eyes. He watched, entranced the fluid play of flesh and skin as Raphael’s long pale cock, a nice ruddy purple by now, sank and reemerged into and from his fist, the velvet-like foreskin lapping beautifully over the shinier, silky glans, the testicles bouncing softly to the rhythm as the scrotum was pulled up and released. It was hard to resist the temptation to throw the whole scene to the devil and just take that cock in his mouth and suck it empty. 
This is without exception the best use a metronome was ever put to.

Raphael’s body was developing a number of small, charming tics and twitches. He briefly lifted his left knee from the mattress then relaxed again. His right wrist was pulling on the strap from time to time, and his breath was coming in slightly ragged bursts. 
Still it took a long time. Too much control, thought Hugh, smiling. Tsk-tsk.

He slowly unfolded his hands and moved to sit between Raphael’s legs. He spit on his middle finger and watched Raphael’s face, half hopeful, half anxious, as he slowly approached his anus. He didn’t hurry. He let Raphael wait for it. He would beg, in time, Hugh knew, but there was no need for that, not yet. He finally pressed his fingertip to the twitching, tight, live rose of flesh and felt it jolt and spasm. He massaged it in circles, with relish, and didn’t even try to penetrate it. Raphael was shaking all over, trying to press down on his finger, but there was just so far he could stretch, tied as he was. His belly muscles went taut. They were contracting in random, jerky convulsions. Hugh had never seen anything so beautiful.

Then Raphael missed a beat. His hand had picked up pace, ignoring all orders. Raphael whimpered, trying to compensate to get back in the right tempo. The double change of pace made him squirm all over. He swallowed twice and missed the beat again. This time Hugh slapped the inside of his thigh, very hard. Raphael could take a long regular series of well-spaced blows with relative ease, but a single hard slap coming down out of the blue like that drew a ragged cry from him.

You do know what tempo means, I asked?” Hugh said, in a plain chatty voice. He had never had any taste whatsoever for histrionics. He was not, he had never been, a theatrical Dom. He wasn’t in it for setting up a show. He just got the job done.

Yes. Yes!” said Raphael, a bit frantic. He managed to stick to the rhythm for a minute longer, until Hugh gently stuck his finger just within the ring of his anus. All of Raphael’s body twisted, and he lost all track of the cold, mechanical rhythm of the metronome. 
And that is exactly what you need, my love . Too much playing by the rules, too much fucking control. You need to find your own tempo, and just let go. 
Five or six fast hard strokes followed. Hugh slapped him twice, on his thigh, and, when he turned suddenly, on his butt. And then Raphael came, on the third slap, as he flopped flat on his back again, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both. It was hard to tell. Semen spurted out in beautiful, long, arched white streamers, splattering over Raphael’s belly, chest, and even his face.
It is difficult to aim while being spanked hard.
Hugh watched him coming, avidly.
He was so naked. So vulnerable, so unguarded. Hugh, who felt, every day, that he might shatter like glass, on Raphael’s unearthly, impossibly graceful, self-possessed beauty, lived for these moments, to watch him released of all self-consciousness and all bonds. Strange, how it took a bunch of leather straps to get him to do that.

Ah, oh, shit. That hurt,” Raphael whispered after a minute. “Not complaining, mind,” he added, with a small edgy laugh, wiping some drops of sperm from his lips and eyebrow.

Good,” said Hugh, quite composed, despite the erection straining in his pants. Watching Raphael twitching and jolting while covered in glistening semen was not a sight to leave him unmoved. He reached out for the metronome, stopped it and lowered the weight a tad, then started it again.
This was a faster, business-like tempo.

There you go, hot lips,” he said to Raphael, who was still breathing hard from his orgasm.

What? Wh—but…”
Hugh gave him a small devilish smile. Raphael was perfectly capable of coming two or three times in one night, but, like most men, he needed a while to recuperate in between. Well, tonight, he wasn’t getting it.

You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”

You can also find an exclusive excerpt on my website, here:

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