Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

Image: courtesy of Cari Silverwood and Skye Warren.

It’s no secret that I am a huge (huge) fan of dark erotica, so I cannot shout loudly enough about Make Me, a brilliant collection of popular stories that’s been put together by some of the genre’s stand-out authors. C.J. Roberts, Annabel Joseph, Skye Warren, Cari Silverwood, Claire Thompson … the contributor list for this thing reads like a who’s who of the smut writing world.

You get twelve full-length novels for what you’d roughly pay for a single eBook (£1.85 if you’re in the U.K. or $3.58 if you’re in the U.S.) and the collection is comprised of titles that have already proven to be extremely popular with readers in their own right. Don’t believe me? Check out the ratings for the individual books on Amazon and Goodreads. Basically, you’re getting the good stuff. Non-con, dark smutty heaven.

The catch? This is a March-only deal so you need to download the Make Me collection (purchase links below) before the 31^st. Go forth and find your mind’s dark alleyway!

Amazon.co.uk

• Make Me – Kindle

Amazon.com

• Make Me – Kindle

Oh, Liana I love you!

Not a discount alert but a ‘new season’ alert. The folk over at Lascivious, who make seriously sexy lingerie, got in touch to let me know that their Spring/Summer collection for 2014 is now available. I’ve got a few things from Lascivious in my cupboard and the workmanship and design of their pieces really is outstanding – hence the reason they’re included on the Chintz ‘Retail Therapy’ list over there on the right-hand side. Not only that, they actually have things that suit those of the small-breasted persuasion, such as myself. (As evidenced by my recent Sinful Sunday image, I’m no Dolly Parton but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to look sexy, dammit!) So it is with much covetous lust that I highlight this new creation of theirs, the Liana Long Suspender. *Sigh* Isn’t it beautiful?

 Image: courtesy of Lascivious.

MyStim Electrosex Lust Egg

Another item I’d like to get my sticky paws on – what a shocker! (Pun intended.) Given my growing interest in all things electrical (okay, may not all things – I have my limits (put that cattle prod down, M!)), this little egg was bound to catch my eye. It’s made of polished, medical aluminium, which means that in addition to providing little electrical vibes, it can be heated and cooled for temperature play. Bondara currently have the MyStim Electrosex Lust Egg down from £64.99 to £49.99 however you need to use it in conjunction with either the MyStim Pure Vibes Electrosex Tens Unit (£84.99) or the MyStim Tension Lover Electrosex Tens Unit (£114.99).

Food for thought if you’re a bit bored with standard vibrator sensations and want something a little different.

Have a great weekend everyone. And to all those attending Eroticon 2014: laugh lots, learn loads, be inspired, and enjoy the hell out of your smutty selves!

Jane
xxx

The post Freebies and Discounts: A Dark (Dark!) Erotica Smorgasbord, Luscious New Lascivious Creations, and Electrosex appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

*Please note that the below review does contain spoilers pertaining to books one and two in the Pierced Hearts series. You can find our previous reviews for Take Me, Break Me and Bind and Keep Me here and here.

MICHAEL’S TAKE

Title: Make Me Yours Evermore
Author: Cari Silverwood
Publisher: Cari Silverwood
ISBN: 9781311900234

Okay, in Take Me, Break Me, we meet Jodie and Klaus when she comes up with a money-making scheme: Have Klaus hold her captive for a month, film the whole thing, and release it to fame and fortune. In the end, things go a bit awry but they achieve a kind of working balance in their relationship.

Skip ahead a year and we get to Bind and Keep Me. When Jodie attends a wild party and dies, Klaus kills the man responsible. Only Jodie isn’t dead. And rather than either hope the police don’t figure out what happened or even try to explain what happened, Klaus comes up with a unique solution: kidnap the one witness who can expose his secret. And hold her captive for the rest of their lives. Perhaps not the greatest plan ever, but it has worked so far. Mostly.

Which brings us up to Make Me Yours Evermore. One of the mostly wrinkles is that Kat has figured out something weird is going on. We actually met Kat at the end of the TMBM. As a character, she was kind of annoying. The other characters thought so too. She still doesn’t know precisely what is going on, but she is going to find out. Only Chris, Klaus’ business partner, is determined to stop her. Because it turns out that Chris has always had a secret fantasy: To kidnap someone and hold her captive for the rest of their lives. And so to help out Klaus, Chris volunteers to do that to Kat.

Oh, and just for fun he brings along his groupie. Years ago, Chris saved Andreas from a shark attack. So anything Chris wants to do is okay by him. All I can say is I am glad that Chris wasn’t into unleashing global thermonuclear war. And actually, it turns out that Andreas has a secret fantasy as well. You guessed it? To hold a woman captive for the rest of her life. I am sensing a theme.

So, anyway, if you aren’t in love with Chris already, he also has a somewhat less-pleasant secret. For years, Chris has been doing the books for a criminal enterprise – something that apparently our boy Klaus didn’t even know about. And just what sort of criminal enterprise? Why, human trafficking, of course. And so his buddies have set him up with a place where he can unleash his Big Bad Dom Self and learn wayward little Kat who her True Master is. He is quite confident that within a month he can have her molded into the submissive little slave girl of his dreams.

Around this point I was thinking if this was an episode of an American TV show, Kat would manipulate Chris and Andreas into a jealous rage over who would possess her and end up stepping over their dead bodies as she walked off into the sunset at the end. Fortunately, though, while there is an element of that, Cari came up with something far more original.

I don’t really want to spoil the latter part because honestly I didn’t really see it coming. What I will say is that going into this sort of novel I am always curious about one thing: Can the captor actually “break” his victim and do it for me in a believable way? I found the ending believable but I think Chris may not have achieved the result he was looking for.

Because, really, at the end of the last novel there was one person who could be Klaus’ undoing. At the beginning of this one, we were up to two. Now we actually have five. All it will take is just one Charles Ramsey and a whole lot of people are going to jail.

This is one series where just when you think you have an idea where things are going, things head off on a tangent. I am very curious to see where we go next but, as I said at the end of Bind and Keep Me, I am making no predictions.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to purchase a copy.

Amazon.co.uk

• Make Me Yours Evermore – Kindle

Amazon.com

• Make Me Yours Evermore – Kindle

*Please note that a copy of Make Me Yours Evermore was provided free of charge by the author in exchange for a fair review.

The post Make Me Yours Evermore, Part Deux: The Michael Chronicles appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

At one point, Chris, a character in Make Me Yours Evermore, mentions brain bleach. By the end of the book, I was surreptitiously checking supermarket shelves for a bottle of the stuff.

Redemption? Remorse? Morality?

Phtt.

Love?

Wash your mouth out.

This book is about lust, desire, control and corruption. But, above all else, it’s about power. Held absolutely and resolutely over another human being. Consensual? No. But compelling and intoxicating, nonetheless.

I can’t recall a single time I’ve ‘enjoyed’ (not to be confused with ‘been impressed by’) a book featuring a core protagonist I was unable to like, empathise with, or warm to. But in this particular case, I did.

Chris is a sadist who’s been waiting for the perfect opportunity to cross the line. And he’s no paragon of virtue in other areas of his life, either. Andreas is a man with some naughty little fantasies who gets a taste of the forbidden and all too quickly strays from the path of righteousness. To my shame, I found myself coming to terms with these two men – one of whom was devoid of any redeeming qualities whatsoever and the other who, despite starting on slightly higher moral ground, very quickly succumbed to the allure of a body available to his every sexual whim. Why, you may ask, did I find these two men … acceptable (if that’s really the word) given my distaste for their actions? It’s simple, really. They were contrasted against a silo of darker, more infinitely abhorrent human beings. Well, that and they tapped into a Pandora’s Box of dark fantasies.

Being forced to submit.

Being humiliated.

Being made to crawl.

Surrendering yourself absolutely – whether you want to or not.

I should make very clear at this point there is a definite S/m thread running through Make Me Yours Evermore. However – and this is really important – I’d in no way class it as a BDSM book. It is not safe or sane. Nor is it risk aware or consensual. The best way I can describe it is as a darkly kinky head-screw that’s not afraid to dig around in the murkier parts of the human psyche and throw a bit of dirt. As with Take Me, Break Me and Bind and Keep Me, Make Me Yours Evermore takes the reader on an unapologetic journey to the dark side. What’s more, it coerces them into enjoying it. If you’re at all uncomfortable with letting your mind wander along darker paths in the name of erotic fantasy then this is – cue flashing warning lights, sirens, etc. – most definitely not the book for you. With each Pierced Hearts instalment, the stakes just seem to get higher and higher, the situations more edgy. And that’s saying something considering Take Me, Break Me kicked off with non-consensual play. Yep. Say ‘hello’ to organised crime, forced slavery, and human trafficking. David Cameron would no doubt – and please excuse the crudity – sh*t a brick if he read this.

Just in case it’s not clear from the rest of this review, the thought of any of the events in the Pierced Hearts series happening in real life flat out appals me. Kink without consent, murder, kidnapping; I am not for one nanosecond condoning any of these things outside of fiction. No way. But I’d be lying if I said the scenarios Cari Silverwood has dreamed up didn’t push my buttons in an erotic fantasy context. Despite my guilty feelings, I’ve been well and truly seduced by her dark little tales. Make Me Yours Evermore is no exception.  

Next time, though? I’d like the characters’ emotional connections to be more … pronounced. Extreme. Because while the plotting, scene-setting and sex were excellent – I’m still recovering from the encounter in the forest between Kat, Andreas and Chris – I found myself yearning for a cataclysmic, no-holds-barred, sexual and emotional kick in the guts to really hammer this story home and cement the characters. Truthfully, I’m still not entirely sure where they stand with one another.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to purchase a copy:

Amazon.co.uk

• Make Me Yours Evermore – Kindle

Amazon.com

• Make Me Yours Evermore – Kindle

*Please note that a copy of Make Me Yours Evermore was provided free of charge by the author in exchange for a fair review.

The post Make Me Yours Evermore – Cari Silverwood appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

Title:

Two words: still recovering. Bind and Keep Me is non-con BDSM erotica at its absolute best. If you like your tales dark, you’re not going to want to miss this one.

*You can click on any of the stick figure drawings below to make them bigger. Which many of you will likely need to do if your eyesight is as bad as mine and you can’t read the writing!

JANE’S TAKE

This book should come with a health warning:

Caution! Jaw may drop to floor and disconnect from face. The author assumes no responsibility for readers who spontaneously combust with arousal and/or spend days wondering whether their moral compass needs resetting as a result of reading (and enjoying) this book.

Leave your sanity at the door because there is absolutely no way that Bind and Keep Me can be put into either the Safe, Sane and Consensual (SSC) or Risk Aware Consensual Kink (RACK) buckets. There is unsafe play in spades. There is insane play by the truckload. There is non-consent to the power of a hundred overlaid with the veneer of incredibly dubious consent. There is risk with a capital ‘R’. And there is kink. Oh, man is there kink.

But the scary thing is that it works. Almost too well. So well that you come out the other end of this book and think ‘I’m one twisted individual for enjoying that. And wanting more.’

A sadist who’s completely off the chain? Check.

Thoroughly illegal activity (murder-slash-manslaughter and abduction)? Check.

A ‘victim’ who has absolutely no say, no outs, no choice in what is done to her? Check, check, check.

Why is it that this book is so deliciously frightening? Because it feels so believable. You could actually imagine the scenario it describes happening. Cari Silverwood has taken everyday characters and situations and completely run them through the twisted kinky wringer to create something that is, pardon my language, a thoroughly arousing mind f*ck. (Let me assure you, you will never look at accountant in quite the same way.)

I was expecting a continuation of Klaus and Jodie’s story, which began in Take Me, Break Me. What I got was a tale that took me on a totally unexpected right-angle and went far deeper and darker than it’s predecessor. And as I read, I could not get out of my mind the following passage from that first book, the one in which Klaus truly begins to understand just how far his sadistic desires go:

‘My new epiphany turned creepy cold. Sharing hadn’t been last on the list, killing her and burying her on the beach had been it. Christ. Thank God, I wasn’t that man, but it made me wonder who I had become. I doubted I could change back.’

So just how far will his desires push him to take things in Bind and Keep Me?

To the limit, people. To the limit.

And what can I say about the ending? I’d have thought that Klaus would be a pretty hard act to follow but reading the Bind and Keep Me epilogue, it seems Ms Silverwood is going to crank things up even further with the next Pierced Hearts entry; Chris frightens the cr*p out of me – but oh, hell, do I want to read about him …

MICHAEL’S TAKE

I’ve decided to keep this review as spoiler-free as possible.

So after Jane and I read Take Me, Break Me a few months ago I learned that there was a second book in the Pierced Hearts series. At first I was confused but then I remembered that there were several possible supporting characters who could be featured in the next story.

So when Jane sent me the Bind and Keep Me review copy, I just picked it up and started reading. And found that it featured Jodie and Klaus. I was surprised, obviously, but decided to just go with it and see where we ended up.

And then … Boom! I didn’t see that coming.

What Cari had to do was tricky. Add a third character to the mix. Create someone who was likeable enough that we did care what happened to her. And yet at the same time make her unlikable enough that we didn’t get too upset at what she went through. I think she pretty much succeeded.

I am still trying to process the ending. Did I see it coming? I definitely saw it as a possibility earlier but had kind of eliminated that from the list by the time it happened. How do I feel about it? Honestly, I am still kind of unsure.

I gave Klaus a lot of leeway and the benefit of the doubt the first time around. Truth? He scares me more than a bit now. I am not sure where he is going to draw the line anymore.

Is there room for a third book? Actually, there is. I am not going to make any assumptions next time around, though.

*Please note that advance copies of Bind and Keep Me were supplied free of charge by the author in exchange for a fair review.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to purchase a copy.

Amazon.co.uk

• Bind and Keep Me – Kindle

Amazon.com

• Bind and Keep Me – Kindle

The post Bind and Keep Me – Cari Silverwood appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

MICHAEL’S TAKE

I guess it was sort of inevitable if we did this long enough.

A lot of people are comparing this to Captive in the Dark. I can see why. And I can certainly make the case for comparing them. A young woman is kidnapped. Mexico. International human trafficking. An anti-hero with a troubled past. But there comes a point when this has to sink or swim on its own merits. That is where Jane and I disagree.

Probably the biggest difference is Marco. He is a little hard to describe. He’s a monster, right? The evil human trafficker who forces his captives to do his bidding to further his criminal empire. Simple. Only at least some of his slaves delight in serving him, happy that he rescued them from a life of poverty and despair. In fact, at least one is desperately in love with him. And he could have killed our young heroine right at the beginning instead of taking her into his home. And he certainly could have taken her anal virginity … because … well, the reason he didn’t I didn’t quite get. In fact, I found that entire subplot a little odd.

Douglas. Colin Douglas. That doesn’t actually appear in the novel and Colin never got assigned a designation starting with a couple of zeros but the whole MI-6 thing was an interesting choice. But it was such a minor issue that aside from adding some unintended humour it didn’t make much difference.

Angela’s character was obviously inspired by Natalee Holloway. In fact, when Jane suggested this book, I deliberately just started reading without knowing anything about it. So I had no idea what was about to happen although perhaps I should have seen it.

Ultimately it came down to whether I liked Angela and Colin. And I did. They weren’t Livvie and Caleb but they had their own strengths and weaknesses. I was really hoping things would work out for them. And they did – although not without a few twists right up the very end.

I’m sorry this didn’t measure up for Jane but there is always next time.

JANE’S TAKE

I live in the U.K. Granted, I wasn’t born here but I’ve spent the last decade of my life residing and working in Britain and, over time, have become reasonably familiar with all the dialects therein. Although I will never get the hang of Cockney rhyming slang (the first time someone asked me if I ‘fancied a butchers’ I had all sorts of bizarre images going through my head – we were going to some sort of butcher appreciation event? Some sort of sausage festival? Seemed a rather unlikely turn of events given the nature of the conference call we were having …). My point is that I have a semi-reasonable handle on regional accents these days.

I’ve worked with a few Scotsmen. One of my neighbours is from Edinburgh. And I can tell you right now that NONE of them sound remotely like Colin, the Scottish dude in this story. If ‘C’, said neighbour, started talking to me the way Colin does at certain points in Escape from Paradise, I’d probably think she’d been drinking a lot of Glenfiddich. In short, I could count on one hand the times I’ve heard ‘och’, ‘lass’, ‘lassie’, and ‘ken’ come up in conversation with Scottish people my age.

Reading the blurb for Escape from Paradise, I was excited – in fact, this was my reading choice rather than Michael’s. I like dark erotica, non-con in particular, and I thought this was going to be in the vein of C.J. Roberts’ Captive in the Dark, which I adored. Unfortunately, I fell rather heavily from the wagon within the first quarter of the book and just couldn’t get back on it again.

It wasn’t just the dialogue that flipped the off switch for me, but the rather erratic characterisation of both Colin and Marco, neither of which felt believable. The first does a dramatic personality one-eighty in the space of a few paragraphs, albeit due to a major life event (narcissistic party boy to avenging angel) and the latter is, well, just off somehow. (I was incredibly surprised that he didn’t kill Angela at the very beginning. I realise that would have stopped the story dead but, ultimately, that reaction from him to the circumstances would have been far more true to type.) Oh, and the way the police show up and deal with the crime involving Colin’s younger brother at the very beginning of this story? Er. No. It just wouldn’t happen that way here.

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” one of them said softly. “But we must work quickly. Your parents have been murdered and your brother’s gone missing. We’re taking you into custody for your own protection.”

Maybe this book works better for non-U.K. readers? Looking at this review I can see a lot of my gripes are to do with context and setting. For a comparison, it would be like me trying to write in a caricature American accent.

‘Howdy, Michael. Are you swell today? Because, dude, I totally I am. I am a total hot mess. My checking account is full of cooties and there’s a stick shift stuck in my drywall.’

Eh, something went wrong for me, that’s for sure. I wanted another Caleb, another Livvie – and I didn’t get either. Although looking at all the positive reviews Escape from Paradise is getting, it would seem I’m in the disliking minority.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to purchase a copy:

Amazon.co.uk

• Escape from Paradise – Kindle
• Escape from Paradise – Paperback

Amazon.com

• Escape from Paradise – Kindle
• Escape from Paradise – Paperback

The post Escape from Paradise – Gwendolyn Field appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

Title:

Yep. As requested, Michael and I are back once again as a book-reviewing double act. Are we less ranty than last time? I think so. But I still ended up drawing stick figures. Couldn’t seem to stop myself. He, meanwhile, took the high road and included intelligent and insightful quotes. (I think it’s clear which of us is Batman and which of us is Robin in this instance …)

JANE’S TAKE …

Before I say anything else, I just want to make it clear that I liked this book. The story was interesting, the characters likeable, and the sex hot. (Very, very hot in fact.) But it disturbed me. And I felt bad for enjoying it at times.

I’m a bit of a fan of both the non-con and D/s genres when it comes to erotica. But I see them as very separate things and when they start getting tangled together in a work of fiction, sirens, alarm bells and all manner of other emergency service warning systems start going off in my head. Consent is fundamental to BDSM. Always. And if it’s not? Well, that’s abuse. Plain and simple. As a rule, I will immediately stop reading books that portray non-consensual interactions between characters as D/s or S/M. Take Me, Break Me, however, managed to twist all the traditional rules of engagement.

The premise is intriguing. Jodie wants to make a documentary about living through the experience of a capture fantasy and asks her ex-boyfriend, Klaus, to imprison her in the basement of her house for the period of one month. He is – initially – shocked by her proposition but eventually agrees because he’s concerned that if he doesn’t, Jodie might engage the services of someone who would take advantage of the situation and truly hurt her. A very arbitrary and vague set of guidelines (The Rules), consisting of five sketchy bullet points is drawn up, a detailed ‘in case it all goes horribly wrong’ protection contract signed, and off they go. You can see where this is heading, can’t you?

Needless to say, things don’t go to plan (there’d be no story if they did) and after little more than a day or so Jodie and Klaus find themselves in a bit of a situation. Klaus discovers his sadistic side. Jodie discovers she likes to be hurt. Klaus decides to throw away The Rules (such as they are) and make new ones. Without any discussion. Oh, boy.

My Take Me, Break Me experience went something like this …

@Michael (just after starting the book):

‘RED PEN ALERT!

I had to read the first chapter twice because all the tense switching confused me. (Maybe I am just A Bear of Very Little Brain?!) Present tense, then past written in the past tense, then past written in the present tense, then back to present in the present tense. Huh? What exactly are you signing, man [Klaus]?! End-of-year finance reports or a down-and-dirty sex slave agreement? Because, you know, that distinction is kind of important!

I now have the awful urge to sing Brittany Spears’ ‘Slave for You’, btw. :-/’

I get frightened by the lack of discussion and awful bullet-pointed rules:

I get confused about what genre I am actually reading:

[Brief interlude, during which Michael and I disagree over the outfit Klaus makes Jodie wear (he thinks it’s ridiculous, I think it’s fabulously degrading) and we both start Googling Magnetic Island, the setting for Take Me, Break Me, real estate prices.]

I get distracted by the idea of green bamboo canes:

Then Jodie and Klaus go to a play party and I want to get one of these out:

All in all, I felt like this the entire time I was reading:

As I said right at the very beginning, I liked Take Me, Break Me. But it scared me. Ergo the above picture. This is a case of the reader being ‘head f*cked’ as much as the characters because you’re enjoying all the things they’re doing together but feel horrible for it because the proposition is so dangerously and badly flawed …

This is a great story, albeit an uncomfortable one.

Safe, Sane and Consensual. Take Me, Break Me certainly proves how important this mantra is.

MICHAEL’S TAKE …

“I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse.”

– Don Corleone

Jodie is a comedienne. Not the worst, but not the greatest either. Her career is just going so-so. So she gets an idea. Make a documentary. But not about the life of a so-so comedienne. No, her idea is to make one about psychological enslavement. You see, Jodie has a secret love for that particular type of erotica we call the Capture Fantasy. So her idea is to film a woman throughout the process and through to the end result. And not just any woman. Herself (with some preset automatic cameras). But who can she get to be her captor?

Klaus. Good old Klaus. Her accountant. Oh, and her once-upon-a-time boyfriend. He’s the perfect guy for this sort of thing. Except maybe a little too cautious. When she approaches him with the idea, he reluctantly accepts. But only after drawing up a Contract and set of Rules so strict he pretty much takes all the fun out of it for both of them.

After all, this is supposed to be fun. Safe, Sane and Totally Consensual but fun as well. So what happens after 36 hours or so when Klaus dispenses with The Rules and makes it up as he goes along?

“Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

– Lord Acton

When I read the description for this one, I actually bought it immediately. Because even though I didn’t plan on reading it as soon as soon as I did, I knew it was one I was definitely going to read. I thought this could be a fun and sexy story. Instead I found it to be a brutally realistic portrayal of two people playing around with things they didn’t understand and getting in absolutely and completely over their heads.

Especially Klaus. I am often pretty hard on male lead characters for doing the wrong thing. But in this case, I didn’t really blame him. Things were so off from the very beginning that you just had to hope they both got out without any permanent damage.

“When you stare into the abyss the abyss stares back at you.”

– Friedrich Nietzsche

Do I think you should read this book? If you like capture fantasy and BDSM fiction, I would say absolutely, positively, unequivocally ‘yes’.

But just keep in mind this is more what not to do.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to purchase a copy:

Amazon.co.uk

• Take Me, Break Me – Kindle

Amazon.com

• Take Me, Break Me – Kindle

Smashwords

• Take Me, Break Me – ePub

The post Take Me, Break Me (Pierced Hearts) – Cari Silverwood appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

Title:

What do you call a tale where a woman shows up for a business meeting only to be assaulted, manhandled, stripped naked, rendered immobile by being bound to a specially designed piece of furniture, blindfolded, gagged and forced to submit to her captor and, possibly, his stalwart management team?

Aw, you guessed it – it’s a love story.

Geoffrey Tennyson wasn’t one of those men who felt sorry for himself because he had a daughter and not a son. He just played the hand life dealt – and spent every moment from the day she was born until the day he died instilling in her his own version of the Ferengi Rules of Acquisition. There simply wouldn’t be a situation that would come up in any business negotiation that Savannah wouldn’t be prepared for.

But then Matthew Kensington enters the equation.

He’s determined to peel back the layers of business acumen and ice cold ruthlessness to find the woman underneath. To anyone else, it would probably seem like an impossible task. But with the right amount of strategic planning, a carefully crafted and briefed team of associates, and the element of surprise, he’s confident that he can pull it off.

Extreme situations call for extreme measures. And what Matt puts Savannah through is definitely intense. But she actually never says ‘no’ to him (or his colleagues), even though he gives her not one but two methods of calling for help if things get to be too much. And he stays right there with her through every single moment.

Nothing tender or sweet about this one but it’s definitely something of an emotional thrill ride.

Reader advisory: Board Resolution is kind of consensual non-consensual, so if that theme pushes any hot buttons, it may be one to avoid.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the following links to buy a copy:

Amazon U.K.

• Board Resolution (Knights of the Boardroom #1) – Kindle

Amazon U.S.

• Board Resolution (Knights of the Boardroom #1) – Kindle

Kobo

• Board Resolution (Knights of the Boardroom #1) – ePub

The post Board Resolution – Joey W. Hill appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

Title:

If you have a penchant for non-con (non-consent) role-play, a man with a dirty mouth, and rough-and-ready sex, you’re going to love this one. Willing Victim is all about indulging those slightly darker and more aggressive fantasies that many of us have but are often afraid to admit to.

First thing’s first. If you’re at all sensitive to reading about rape – in either a real or imagined capacity – then this is definitely not the book for you. (Note my over-zealous use of bold and italics here.) Per Willing Victim’s Reader Advisory warning:

‘Although all sex acts are 100-percent consensual, Willing Victim contains role-playing scenarios that may upset some readers who are sensitive about rape, even in a simulated capacity.’

Still here? Good. Then on with the review …

Laurel’s not really sure what she’s doing with her life. Despite being a qualified engineer, she’s simply drifting from one day to the next, making ends meet by waitressing. Then one day, quite by chance, she meets Flynn, a native Bostonian who works construction. There’s just something about this hulk of a man that draws Laurel and she finds herself doing something completely out of character: asking him out. Initially, he refuses her offer, but Laurel refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer and, eventually, Flynn capitulates – after a fashion:

‘He scribbled an address in South Boston.
“Friday and Saturday nights, eight to one. Tell the guy working that Flynn invited you.”
Laurel studied his slanted handwriting. “Okay,” she said, wondering if all this newfound impulsivity would leave her by the weekend.
“If that doesn’t scare you off,” he said, “ you can try askin’ me out again.”’

What Laurel discovers when she turns up both surprises and intrigues her: Flynn’s a fighter, a stalwart of the underground boxing circuit. But that’s not all. Courtesy of a woman named Pam who has a casual sexual arrangement with him, she learns that the ring isn’t the only place Flynn likes to channel his aggression:

‘“… Flynn’s just willing to go place with me that other guys won’t. Sort of rough places. Well, really rough places.”
.
.
.
“He’s a bit of a thug,” she added with a fond smile.
“In and out of bed, it sounds like,” Laurel said. Not that it was necessarily a criticism.
Pam shrugged again. “What I told you about him sexually…don’t jump to condemn him or anything. He’s actually really kind.”

And that’s the crux of this book. Fabulously dirty, aggressive sex with a real rough diamond who’s not afraid to play in very dark places – provided (and this is important) it’s what his partner wants. Is Flynn hard on those he has sex with (or, more accurately, ‘fucks’)? Oh, yes. Is he violent towards them? No. That’s not what Willing Victim’s about. The clue is in the title: this isn’t a story of abuse.

I’ve seen some reviewers describe this as a BDSM book but, in my opinion, it isn’t. Although there’s unquestionably a power exchange between Laurel and Flynn – and they have a safeword in place – Willing Victim is much more about non-consent role-play. Bluntly, ‘being forced’ in a controlled and pre-negotiated environment.

Characterisation-wise, Cara McKenna does a great job with both protagonists. Laurel is suitably cautious about what she’s stepping into and Flynn’s clearly in tune with his partners’ needs and limits. He’s not a blunt instrument, either. The flip-side of him is his kindness – because although Flynn describes himself as an ‘asshole’ to Laurel at the beginning of Willing Victim, it soon becomes very clear that he’s not.

Finally, a word on Flynn’s language. As I mentioned in the very first sentence, it’s dirty (the ‘c word’ abounds) – but well done. If filth is going to come out of a man’s mouth during sex, this is the kind you want. To that end, I’m pretty positive you’ll be fanning yourself and/or jumping on your partner rather than cringing.

Tickle your fancy? Click on the below links to purchase a copy.

Amazon.co.uk:

• Willing Victim – Kindle

Amazon.com:

• Willing Victim – Kindle

The post Willing Victim – Cara McKenna appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.

Image: Ivje, Godvisna (own work)

So, the days are getting colder and the chill is starting to set in. Need to warm up quickly? I have just the thing …

Frostbite is an erotic short story I penned a few weeks ago following a fabulous (sedate!) walk in the English countryside: A woman, walking by herself on a desolate, frosty footpath, is taken by surprise when a man steps from the trees in front of her. They’re alone, it’s bitterly cold, and night is falling. It sounds like the beginning of a nightmare – but is it?

I really enjoyed writing Frostbite and it seems now’s the time to post it, given that winter’s bearing down on us with a vengeance.

If I get the time – and provided they’re popular enough – I’ll try and write more of these ‘five minute’ shorts going forwards.

IMPORTANT: Please note that this story is a work of fiction and contains explicit sexual content and elements of dubious consent. If such material offends you or you are under the age of 18, please don’t read any further.

FROSTBITE

In the fading winter light it’s impossible to see him standing beneath the trees. It isn’t until he steps from the froth of dried bracken at the side of the footpath, coming to a stop mere feet in front of me, that I realise he is there. The shot of adrenalin that courses through me as I freeze, mid-step, feels more like a bolt of electricity and the hairs on the back of my neck come to attention as if court-marshalled.

I stare at him, my mouth slightly parted, a breath away from a scream.

He looks back at me – and I can’t help but think it’s in much the same way that a lion contemplates a foolish, stray gazelle.

With an effort, I break his gaze and look frantically behind me. There is no one but us on this lonely track; the frozen path I have just walked, a mess of frosty grass and cold mud, stretches empty across a desolate field before disappearing into a tall stand of distant oaks.

We are quite alone.

And as I turn my head back towards him, he pounces. Moves so quickly I don’t have time to process it. One leather-clad hand is like a vice around my arm, the other a dead weight against my shoulder, pushing me to my knees on the hard ground. I hear the frosted grass crackle as my legs make contact and feel the almost immediate seep of cold through the wool of my tights. The hand on my arm shifts to my head, pulls off my wool hat and grasps my hair. I arch my neck backwards, trying to relieve the strain but he simply pulls harder and I start to lose my balance. Involuntarily, my hands come up and I grip his denim-encased thighs in an effort to steady myself.

In the dim grey light, I can see the corners of his mouth curve upwards in a hard smile.

The way he is gripping my hair, I can’t look down but I hear the metallic clink of metal and suddenly realise that the hand that’s no longer on my shoulder must be undoing his belt. My thoughts are confirmed when my ears pick up the distinctive sound of a zip being undone in the almost-silent evening. Instinctively, I start to struggle but he merely tightens his fingers until the roots of my dark hair scream for relief. The pain is unwelcome and, almost immediately, I quiet, seeking escape from the punishment.

His grip loosens fractionally but my moment of leniency is short-lived. He steps closer to me and I feel the head of his penis, hot and hard, brush across my cheek and press against my dry lips. A finger taps my jaw in warning and I immediately open my mouth.

He pushes in without any preamble – desperate to get inside or desperate to escape the cold winter air swirling around us, I can’t tell. I have no time to prepare myself, and start to gag as he rams himself to the back of my throat. After a second or two, he backs off slightly, allowing me to swallow and get some sort of grasp on my reflexes before pushing forward again and holding himself deep. I tighten my fingers on his thighs, doing my best to accommodate the not insignificant width of his cock.

The hairs of his groin brush against my nose and, as I desperately suck the frigid air, I catch the lingering scent of soap and musk.

He pulls back until just the head of him remains safe and warm inside my now wet lips. Pauses momentarily. Studies me intently.

And then he is moving again, his cock fucking my mouth in a steady, even rhythm, one hand on my scalp guiding my movements, the other at the back of my neck pulling me closer to him. As he moves in and out, wet sounds squelch from my mouth and saliva trickles down my chin. My eyes begin to water as the intensity of his thrusts increases and twice I nearly lose my balance, but, somehow, I manage to hold myself in place.

I have no idea how long he uses my mouth but, finally, I begin to feel him swell against my tongue and I know he his close to coming. But instead of ejaculating deep in my throat as I expect him to, he pulls out, grips my shoulders and pulls me roughly forwards. I put out my hands to stop myself face-planting and my glove-covered palms hit the ground. Almost immediately, I feel his hands on my hips, turning me around.

My knees scrap across the dirt.

A gust of wind rushes over us and a flurry of ice crystals rise up and sting the skin of my face. There is a rustle and a thud and I sense he has dropped to his knees behind me.

I don’t even think about moving as pushes my denim skirt up around my hips, or when he yanks my tights and knickers down around my thighs with a single vicious pull.

I don’t think about crawling away from him on my hands and knees as I feel a hand rest at the small of my back and the engorged head of his penis plug the entrance of my embarrassingly wet pussy.

The fingers digging into my right hip cause me to buck slightly against him and a sharp slap stings the exposed, rapidly cooling skin of my buttocks.

I freeze.

He remains motionless for a moment, and then grunts – the only sound he has made so far – as he slowly pushes forward into my warm cunt. There is a momentary respite from the increasingly biting wind as his hips come to rest against mine, but it doesn’t last. He begins to stroke lazily in and out, and each time he pulls back, the Arctic chill rushes in, punishing my bottom and the swollen, spread lips of my vulva.

I have almost become accustomed to the vicious air when he leans forward, drops his weight onto my back, and reaches underneath me. I drop my head to watch as his gloved hands fumble with the zipper of my winter coat. He pulls it towards him, and then his hands are at the hem of my jumper, pushing it and the shirt beneath upwards, over my breasts. As he runs his hands downwards again, his fingertips catch the top edges of my bra and yank the cups so that they come to rest beneath the lower curves of my breasts.

I clench involuntarily around the cock buried deep inside me as the icy cold hits my exposed nipples. They tighten, becoming hard as diamonds and I desperately want to cover them with my hands but, even as the thought registers, I am being pulled upright as he lifts his weight from my back. Gripping my arms, he forces me to straighten and rest my weight on my dirty walking boots before capturing both wrists in one hand at the small of my back. As I kneel between his thighs, impaled on his cock, he reaches around and gently squeezes the tip of one frozen nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out, even though I know there is no one to hear me.

He begins to move his hips, pushing upwards with his cock in short, sharp jabs. As the pace picks up, he starts twisting my nipple more sharply – and this time I cannot help but lift my face and groan at the darkening sky.

The bare branches of the trees dance like black skeletons over my head and, as I watch them, I see a single, fat snowflake flutter downwards like a white angel. It swirls away into the gathering night but, almost immediately, there is another to take its place. And another. And another.

They land all around us. On the dirt. The grass. The bare flesh of my breasts.

I am being pushed forwards again, back onto my hands and knees, and now the snow falls softly against the skin of my bottom. Almost as soon as it makes contact, it melts, sending little threads of liquid dribbling downwards. As I try to acclimatise to the sensation, a bare, wet thumb skates over the tight pucker of my anus and I hold my breath, the freezing stings of the flakes momentarily forgotten. It pushes gently yet ruthlessly inwards, overcoming the tight resistance it encounters with shocking ease.

I force myself to relax.

It slides in further.

Before I know it, the gloveless digit is stabbing in and out of me and I am pushing back on its meagre width with shameless abandon. From out of nowhere, the beginning of an orgasm starts to whisper through me and I strain towards it, desperate to send myself over the edge. But before I can climax, the hips behind me give three hard, measured thrusts and the cock inside my pussy swells to monstrous proportions. At the end of the third, deep stab I feel a rush of warmth, and then it slides backwards, pulling fully out, leaving me gaping and open to the cold.

A trickle of the seed that has just been deposited inside me runs from my desperate, empty, well just as I feel the thumb retreat from my anus and hot splashes of come fall like acid rain on its spasming mouth. Moments later, however, the thumb returns to massage and push the rapidly cooling ejaculate into the still-hungry pucker.

I groan and pant, the elusive orgasm hovering like a dark abyss before me, but before it can detonate, he stops touching me completely and I hear him getting to his feet.

I cannot bring myself to look at him.

I remain on my hands and knees, half undressed, sperm trickling down my thighs; a shivering vessel of need.

My ears pick up the sound of him fastening his pants, and then his footsteps crunching across the ground. All too soon, they fade into the distance.

The seconds tick by but I cannot seem to make myself move. Eventually, though, the pain of my freezing nipples and the exposed skin of my buttocks spur me into action. I stand, and as I do, feel more dribbles leak from my cunt.

I re-adjust my shirt, jumper and coat before trying to sort out my lower half. As I pull my knickers up, I feel them cling to the damp patches on my inner thighs and groin and know that I will be walking home in a sea of stickiness. My tights are no better; they’re caked in wet dirt and the left knee now sports a ragged hole. My hat is nowhere to be seen.

I look around. The night is now in full bloom around me and it’s no longer snowing; a silvery moon and a mass of brilliant stars hang in the inky sky, illuminating the light blanket of white on the grass and bushes.

On shaky legs, I start off once again down the track, following the single set of footprints imprinted upon it. A mile later, I reach the country lane the leads to my house and follow its hard surface until I reach the porch light that marks my front door. Key in hand, I insert it into the lock and let myself in.

A wall of warmth hits me and I briefly close my eyes, savouring the welcome heat. After removing my boots and hanging up my coat on one of the hooks by the stairs, I make my way into the kitchen. My husband is sitting at the table, a book in his hand, a cup of steaming tea at his side. He looks up as I enter the room and takes in my dishevelled appearance: the wild hair, the dirt, the tear at my knee.

‘How was your walk?’ he says.

I hesitate. ‘It was … interesting.’

‘Interesting?’ He quirks an eyebrow.

I nod, not sure what else to say.

He puts his book down and pushes his chair back so that his legs are free from the table. ‘Come here.’

I walk over to him and as soon as I’m close enough, he grabs me and pulls me down, face-first, over his lap. His hands go straight to the hem of my skirt. He lifts it up and pulls the waistband of my tights and knickers beneath the curve of my bottom before plunging his fingers into my sopping cunt.

‘That feels more than interesting to me.’

I groan and squirm, unable to formulate any coherent words.

He spreads the slickness over my engorged clit and I bury my face against his calf, noting the still-drying mud on the knees of his trousers. His hand drifts backwards and I feel a finger circle my anus.

‘Please,’ I wail.

He chuckles and plunges it in to the knuckle.

‘You just want your orgasm, greedy girl.’

I tighten around his unmoving finger, desperate for friction.

He pulls it out slightly, pushes it back in with more force, and leans forward so his lips are close to my left ear.

‘Sorry I ruined your tights, babe.’

The post Five-minute erotica: Frostbite appeared first on Behind the Chintz Curtain.