Tuesday, 30 June 2015

ETO 2015

What I was anticipating to be a quiet Sunday this weekend turned to be the exact opposite. My fellow Brit Babe - and partner in wine-crime - Lexie Bay found herself with a spare ticket to ETO (Erotic Trade Only) in Birmingham. ETO is an exhibition of what's hot, new and downright kinky as well as a wonderful award ceremony to celebrate all the fabulous products and individuals in the erotic world.

How could I let a ticket go to waste when not one but TWO Brit Babes had been nominated for best erotic author of the year? Brit Babes scooped the award last year when Kd Grace won and this year she was nominated again along with Kay Jaybee.

It included a little bit of throwing dresses, heels, make-up etc into an overnight bag and a few hours driving but oh, wow, was it worth it.

One of my first views when I arrived...

I'd decided not to tell the other Babes that I'd made a last minute decision to attend so when I tapped Tabitha Rayne on the shoulder - as she was about to examine a vibrating wand - you can imagine the squeals of delight from both of us! I then sought out Kd Grace, who had her gorgeous hubby with her - more squeals - and finally Kay Jaybee with Dr J (though she wasn't feeling well which was a bummer!).

After a refreshing ice-cream with flavoured lube (I'm still on the fence on that one!) we had a wander around the exhibition. Here's what was on offer.

Super-hero toy boy complete with cock ring anyone?

Lingerie to lust after...

Hot guy on the Rocks Off stand!

Interesting shower gadget - we've asked these guys to guest on the Brit Babes blog so hopefully more info 'coming'.

Gorgeous Cara Sutra's stand.

The M/M stand

I really should have put something next to this to give an impression of size. Eye-watering is the best description at this point.

New furniture...

So the day was pretty awesome but come the night and with champagne flowing and best frocks donned we had some serious fun. We were very excited to see who the winners were and our first celebration came when Renee Denyer from Sh! (who've hosted many an erotic reading night) won Best Store Manager and Best Innovative Retailer! 

The moment we were hanging on the edge of our seats for finally arrived and with baited breath we waited, only to be rewarded with a Brit Babe win. Yes! Kay Jaybee, best erotic author!

But... she was feeling poorly and tucked up in bed (with a very handsome and caring companion I might add!) so who else could collect the prize but us Brit Babes? Yes, we danced onto that stage, arms in the air, hips aswinging, and told the world how fabulous she was and how proud we were.

Fabulous and sparkly award and bottle of champagne were duly sent upstairs and Kay enjoyed them tucked up in bed - what a way to celebrate! 

After that the dancing started and with Melissa MacFarlane of Voluptasse, Renne and Cara Sutra, boy did we kick up our heels until the early morning. The live band were awesome, playing all our favourite songs - Tabitha and I getting more excited with each one that hit the first note!

Of course all good things must come to an end and the night rolled me into bed and the land of dreams.

I hope I can attend ETO again next year, and that the Brit Babes hit the top spot again. Thanks to everyone I met, danced with, chinked glasses with, for making it such a fun time. And of course, again, a huge congratulations to Kay for her win, so proud of you and so honoured to have been part of it.

Lily x

Monday, 29 June 2015


Wimbledon kicks off today which is very exciting!  I love watching and playing tennis, so much so that I wrote a book about it with my great pal Lucy Felthouse - Grand Slam.

Back Cover Information

California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed Travis Connolly resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills. Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.

I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons, even though doing that shows her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I bury deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing is certain, being not just master of the court but also of Marie is seriously good for my soul.

Check out Lucy and I's Raw Talent website and get all the gossip on our sexy sporty stories, and to get you in the mood for tennis hotties here's a few to whet the appetite...

Let the games begin...

Saturday, 27 June 2015

Our Sexy Man ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #Saturday7 #MSSAuthors #MSS98

Welcome to My Sexy Saturday. This week I've brought Ruben Strong from Breathe You In out to play. I adore Ruben, he's one of my favourite heroes of all time. He's strong, as his name suggests, but he also has a hint of vulnerability about him as he rebuilds his life. All I can say is lucky Katie who gets to do that rebuilding with him. 

Back Cover Information

Soul-aching desire was only the first layer of emotion around a secret I had to keep for all of time. 

If the road to heaven starts in hell, then I was ready to start climbing my way out and Ruben Strong was the man to accompany me. With his devastating good looks, seductively sexy charm and lust for adrenaline, he was sure to make it a sensual and erotic experience as well as one to re-awake the passionate, throw-caution-to-the-wind woman I’d once been. 

I’d given Ruben something, though, without him realizing, and that gift had come from the man I’d loved before. But I couldn’t tell Ruben. I had to keep that a tight secret even on the nights our naked bodies wound together, sought out pleasure and hit the dizzy heights of ecstasy—because Ruben had my husband’s heart, literally, and that heart was still in love with me, so it seemed, and now I was in love with Ruben. 

Emotions tangled with bliss and fears were locked away as I surrendered to the touch of Ruben’s hands, the taste of his skin and the sounds of his pleasure. I couldn’t deny that Ruben had brought me back to life the same way I had him, and there was no way I was giving up that feeling, not for anyone.

We fell into our hotel room. Ruben kicked the door shut and dropped the key to the floor. Next thing I knew I was up against the wall, my wrists held above me in just one of his hands. He was staring down at me, his nostrils flaring as he breathed fast.
“Tell me this is it,” he said, palming my left breast through my dress with his free hand.
“Yes, this is it,” I panted.
“You and me?”
“Yes, you and me.”
He smiled, not in his usual sweet way but in a downright predatory way. “And what do you want?”
Excitement and anticipation swirled in my belly. Between my legs I was buzzing for attention. “You, Ruben. Fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”
He gritted his teeth, but only briefly because then he caught my mouth in a wild kiss.
I pushed against him as he drove me harder into the wall with his body. There was nothing weak about him. He had me held tight with his chest, his belly and legs all taut with muscle and his lust as powerful as any force I’d ever known.
I matched him kiss for kiss, looped my right leg around one of his. Tried to move my arms but couldn’t.
“Like this,” he said, suddenly releasing me and spinning me to face the long mirror next to us. “Bend over. Put your arms out.”
I stooped and pressed my palms onto the cool surface. He yanked my short dress up to my waist and tugged my knickers off. Cool air washed over my bum and legs.
His movements were swift, precise and within seconds, his cock was nudging at my pussy from behind.
Spreading my legs to make his entry easier, I watched in the mirror as he concentrated on his task, his hair flopping forward and his tie hanging loose, tapping against the small of my back.

Breathe You In is available from the publisher, Totally Bound, with a bonus sexy scene, and from all other good retailers (in paperback and ebook) including Amazon/Amazon UK. Be sure to check out the many 5* reviews including USA Today's which named Breathe You In a recommended read of 2013.

Saturday Spankings #SatSpanks

Welcome to Saturday Spankings. Here's a few from Sexy as Hell which is a three novel boxed set with three additional spin-off stories available only on Amazon. This is a co-author that I wrote with Natalie Dae, hence the name Harlem Dae. If you have Amazon Prime you can read the entire trilogy and bonus stories for free! (Please note the first book The Novice was previously titled The Virgin but had to be changed after an issue with Amazon.)

Back Cover Information

Sexy as Hell is an erotic trilogy that will submerge you into the black heart of a world of bondage and discipline, Dominance and submission, sadism and masochism. 

Dare to take this twisting journey with Victor and you’ll learn the ropes with him, experience every carnal sensation and fall into a dark and dangerous love that grips like a fist and binds like a collar. 

Get to know Zara, his sultry teacher, and you’ll gasp when she doles out her sinful instructions but then delight in the stunning results she not only demands but achieves. It seems Heaven and Hell are not so far apart when she holds the reins. 

Victor has his layers peeled back, but when he does the same to try to get to his Vixen’s core, a revelation appears. Because Zara is a woman whose vast sexual experience is both her strength and her weakness; she can inflict pain and pleasure, make lusty demands and instruct, but she needs so much more, she needs… 

Yes, the time has come to for her to admit to her needs and confess to the repairing her soul hungers for. A sea of memories, a lifetime of control requires an acknowledgement that will cut through her barriers, and there’s only one man up for the job—her virgin, her student, her newly trained monster, Victor Partridge. 

The pressure was so great. Not just in my pussy, but throughout my whole body. It was as if I were truly alive, every nerve stimulated, hyper-stimulated. Soon my orgasm would be there, soon, very soon. I prayed for it to take me swiftly, then the pain would stop. But so would my high. This dizzy, reckless, submissive state would end and I’d be Zara - Carlos and Victor’s Mistress again. My responsibilities would return, my need to be in control would surface.
Suddenly the additional stripes of pain stopped. The flogger was no longer beating down on me. I think it must have taken a few seconds for me to realise because I was such a bubbling mass of need and hurt anyway.
“Carlos,” I hissed, aware that my mouth was wet with saliva, drooling almost. “Don’t stop, you bastard.”
I fretted my clit, cursing the fact that my orgasm was retreating before it had bloomed. “Hit me or I swear I’ll shove not one but two mega-plugs up your arse, side by side.”
Still nothing.
Exasperated, I sat back on my heels then turned, still tweaking my clit and hoping to re-gather the lost pulses of an orgasm.
Staring down at me were two men.
Carlos and Victor.
Victor held Carlos’ arm aloft. The arm that held the now limp flogger.
Carlos’ cheeks were red. He was breathing hard through his nose, like a bull, and his mouth was set in a tight, straight line.
Victor was staring at me, unblinking, his brow creased, his lips parted and his emerald-green tie skewwhiff.
“What the fucking hell...” Victor said in a strained, shocked voice. “What the fucking hell in God’s name is going on here?”

Find out more about Harlem Dae and all our joint work on our website and please give our Facebook Page a LIKE. Want to check out the many 5* reviews for Sexy as Hell? Click HERE and be sure to check out the FREE Sexy as Hell magazine.

Friday, 26 June 2015

Confessions of a Serial Writer By K D Grace

Please welcome my good friend and fellow erotic romance author KD Grace, she's chatting about the fabulous serial that's been popping up on her website lately and I know I for one, am hooked!

First off, I’d like to thank the lovely Lily Harlem for having me over for a chinwag. It’s always such a pleasure to spend time at hers. When Lily asked if I’d do a post, I said yes for a different reason. Usually I’m blogging to promote whatever novel I’ve just put out. I said yes because I’m doing something really, really fun, and I was excited for the chance to talk about it.

A few months ago, I made the decision that it was time to have more fun with my writing, time to try something different. For the past five years I’ve never had a moment when I wasn’t working to a tight deadline, and that was while trying to keep up with the PR and marketing for the books I’d already written. That’s the position we writers love to be in, always having our work in demand, but it sometimes means we fall into a rut and live very tunnel-visioned lives. It also means that projects we’d love to do, projects that are dear to our hearts never get done.

Writing has been a pleasure all of my life. In fact, writing has been THE pleasure of my life, second only to sex, and that’s probably because the two are, in my mind, very closely related. The pure pleasure of writing has always come from the creative force unleashed by the imagination. My characters, more often than not, take me in directions I totally wasn’t expecting to go, and they control the stories I write. As frightening as it is to give over the reins, the results are always exciting for me, and for the reader.

There are always other stories I want to write, other characters whom I’d met in previous novels that I want to spend more time with. I promised myself that it was time to throw caution to the wind and let that happen. For me that meant playing with story on my blog, doing stories especially for the blog, experimenting with creativity in my posts, and writing another serial.

The first serial I wrote was Demon Interrupted, which I did in episodes that came out every three weeks. I completed it last Halloween. (You see what I did there? J) The character I wanted to know more about was a secondary character, who caught my attention in my Lakeland Witches Trilogy. I wanted to know Ferris Ryder’s story. It was the most fun I’d had writing in ages! Writing a serial is such a different animal because of the episodic nature, and each time I sit down to write an installment, it’s like sitting down to a new adventure, very immediate, very spontaneous.

After Demon Interrupted, my life got consumed by projects with deadlines, projects that I got paid for and my intentions to write another serial were put on hold. Until four weeks ago. I got bold and decided to do a weekly serial based on a short story I wrote ages ago, that had been through many incarnations, but never ended up quite like I wanted it to because there was way more happening than I could explore in ten or twenty pages. Voila! In The Flesh, the serial was born!

What I love most about writing a serial for my blog is that it’s a chance for me to completely let the Muse lead me on a weekly basis. Also, I really love the fact that it’s something I can give my readers, a little guilty pleasure every Friday, sort of a literary nooner. In a way they’re looking over my shoulder as the story unfolds.

In The Flesh is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize.


Long toward morning I woke with a start. The room was awash in the scent of roses, and I was certain someone had called my name. “Annie?” I half whispered. There was no reply, no sound other than the anxious breathing that must surely have been my own. Surely. The pitch black of the room pressed in all around me like another presence, so close that I felt if I switched on the light, I would suddenly come face to face with it. The bile of panic rose in my throat. I threw off the duvet and fumbled for my phone, dropping it on the mattress before I could finally slice the blackness with a sliver of light. The drop cloth curtains trembled on either side of me, no doubt from my own panicked actions, and the smell of roses thickened.

Careful to keep the sliver of light, I slipped into my robe and hurried to check on Annie. Even in the stairwell I could hear her moans. As I neared the transept the air felt charged and heavy like that moment in a storm just before lightning strikes. The hair on my neck rose and goose flesh prickled up my spine. I held my breath as I tiptoed closer. The plastic drop cloths had been shoved onto the floor in a heap, and there in the moonlight she lay, thrashing atop the altar, her hair splayed like a halo around her head, her nightie pushed up over her hips. She arched her back and cried out, reaching her arms upward to something I couldn’t see.

I wanted to run, but instead, I stood frozen, bathed in cold sweat, waiting for logic to explain everything away, as the moonlight around her seemed to explode and coalesce with her ecstasy. The smell of jasmine, Annie’s favourite flower, cloyed at my throat making my headache. After what seemed like an eternity, the urge to flee finally took control. Heart pounding, I stepped back, hoping to leave unnoticed, when suddenly I felt a rush of wind against my face and breathed the musky odour of sex. I stumbled backward, unable to hold back a small yelp. My phone slipped through my fingers and skittered under a pew as the scent of jasmine gave way to roses. 

In the heavy press of darkness, I half ran, half fell down the hall back toward my room, tripping over the edge of a drop cloth thrown across the floor and coming down hard on both knees with a breathless curse. I pulled myself to my feet gasping for oxygen, groping at the wall for the electrical switch, desperate for light – any kind of light. Though I was disturbed by what I had seen, I was more disturbed by the fact that it had aroused me even through my fear. As my eyes adjusted, light coming in from the small window in the door of the makeshift kitchen bathed the room in monochrome grey. Another gust of wind blew the door open with a loud crash. I yelped and jumped forward to force it shut. Then I could have sworn I heard my name again, called out with such longing that I couldn’t stop myself. With hands slippery from nervous sweat, I fumbled the door open again and stepped out onto the patio. The clutter of Terra cotta pots looked like strange squat specters in the dance of moonlight and shadow. Making my way past derelict strawberry jars, several bags of ancient compost and wheeless wheelbarrow, I immerged into a large garden over grown with weeds. It was the deconsecrated churchyard, I reminded myself with a shiver. In the bright moonlight, I stood holding my breath. Listening.

Annie had taken twisted pleasure in speculating about the graveyard that had once been the back garden. She had imagined exhumed medieval skeletons taken to the London Museum to be studies and cataloged. She had imagined underground catacombs where ghosts of priests and and murderers alike scurried on secret missions, some sinister, some holy. I shivered at the thought and pulled the robe tighter around me. I had not found her speculation amusing then, and I found it even less so now. I found nothing about this place amusing. Fighting my way through a tangle of ivy I came to a stone bench that looked like it well might have belonged in a graveyard. Not wanting to go back inside Chapel House, I sat down, hoping desperately that if I thought long enough I’d find a rational explanation for everything that had happened or I’d wake up and discover it had all been a bad dream. Staying in places with intriguing pasts often brought me unsettling dreams.

I could smell roses again -- old roses, not any sort of modern hybrid. Only old roses would smell so strong and so sweet amid the rank growth of weeds. As I breathed in the scent that seemed to be coming from just over my shoulder, I felt a humid breeze on my neck, brushing my nape, like breath exhaled with the settling of a kiss. The leaves rustled around me, and the bench was suddenly in shadow. With a start, I turned to hear the sound of footsteps retreating down the path. “Annie? Hello?” I clamoured to my feet and followed the rustle of leaves, the scent of roses always just ahead of me. “Annie, this isn’t funny, alright? This isn’t funny!”

I hadn’t remembered the garden being so large. It felt as though I wandered the paths for hours. My spine constantly prickled, but a quick glance over my shoulder always revealed no one following me. The paving stones were mossy and slick beneath my bare feet. I stumbled along ignoring the scratch of bramble and the sting of nettle, shoving my way through leaves damp with dew until I broke through, as though I’d just pushed aside a curtain. With a gasp, I stopped short, nearly losing my footing on the moss.

The smell of roses was overwhelming. The sense of not being alone crawled along my spine on little insect feet. In a small copse set between aging lilac bushes taller than my head and a gnarled hawthorn hedge that might have once been apart of a formal garden, he loomed over me. I swallowed back a scream just before it could escape, just as I realized he was an angel, or at least a statue of one. 

Slightly more than human size, his weathered marble toes barely touched a low plinth, as though he were just alighting. One large hand was extended in invitation toward me, the other rested on his naked chest over his heart. A billowing veil of stone just covered his groin so that his perfect form, all but the most intimate of it, shown silver in the moonlight, frozen in a motion of welcome, muscles tensed in anticipation, empty eyes locked on mine.

With my heart battering my ribs, I stood unmoving, stone cold, as though I were his marble counterpart. I know this sounds crazy. And even after so much time has past, it still sounds crazy every time I think of it, and yet I knew then, just as certainly as I know now that something ancient, something primal, moved over my skin, like the brush of spider webs and dust motes, fingering its way deeper, into secret places, places in myself where even I never dare go. Whatever it was, it knew me, it understood me, and its longing for me was terrible.

The recent short stories, ‘journal entries,’ and In The Flesh, along with Landscapes, a story I wrote for the wonderful m/m collection, Brit Boys: On Boys are all tied into a bigger project linked with my present WIP and the world it involves. I’m having fun on a grand scale, and sharing it with my readers as I go.
Thanks again for having me, Lily! Always a pleasure!

If you want to read In The Flesh or Demon Interrupted, follow the links and enjoy!

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace/Grace Marshall believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.

Find K D Here:                                                                  

Thursday, 25 June 2015

Special Offer - Sexy Just Got Rich

Wow have I got some hot deals for you today! If you're all in a dither about sexy billionaire, BDSM loving heroes then check out Sexy Just Got Rich and find my story, In Safe Hands, lurking within the pages. For a limited time only this erotic medley of steamy and romantic stories from the Brit Babes (of which I am 1/8) is only 99c/99p. Go...go...go...

And if you enjoy In Safe Hands check out the full length novel to go with it, In Expert Hands, that features the gorgeous, and seductively kinky, Kane Ward.

Find Sexy Just Got Rich on Amazon / Amazon UK and all other good ebook retailers.

As if that isn't enough, I have  FREE read for you too. The Brit Babes anthology Sexy Just Walked Into Town won't cost you a penny and features my story Secret Servicing along with many more and a few co-authored reads. Grab from Amazon / Amazon UK and all other good ebook retailers.

And if we've whet your appetite why not come over to our home on the web and say hi! LIKE the Babes on Facebook and follow us on Twitter.