Men for Hire - Guest Post from Jennifer Denys

Please welcome the lovely Jennifer Denys to my blog today with her new anthology Men for Hire

Men for Hire … when you hire a man, you might get more than you ask for

This is the teasing line on the front of the Men for Hire anthology published by Luminosity Publishing. They are a relatively new organisation with whom I have two other books published and are a terrific publisher, open to ideas from authors. For instance, when I asked if I could have a map in the front of my last novel, BDSM Weekend, as it was set on an estate of an English country mansion, they were more than happy to include it.

So when I approached them asking if they would be interested in publishing an anthology called Men for Hire, based on a story concept I’d had some time back which I thought would make a great basis for a collection of short stories, they were more than happy to run with my idea. This was set around a firm run by Jennifer Archer, based in London, who hired out men to do any job… and being a good erotic romance, in the course of the job they naturally fell in love with their employers (and had fabulous sex, naturally!).

Then I asked if it was possible for me to be the acquisitions editor on the anthology. Bearing in mind I had absolutely no experience of this role, but felt it would be a useful skill to acquire, I was surprised they agreed. (Luminosity is a wonderful publishing house, who are keen to be innovative and open to all ideas from their authors).

And so Men for Hire was born… or at least, announced to all my fellow writer friends online or at conferences.

It was extremely exciting when I received my first submission Got Muscle?, from Tina Donahue. Thankfully it was an excellent story - lighthearted, yet hot (involving a great scene where the heroine is tied to the home gym the hero is putting together) - and I felt we were on the right track. I wanted to rush out and say ‘yes’ immediately. But this was when I realised I had to wait to see the manner of the other stories submitted so I could pick and choose (in discussions with Luminosity we agreed to have 4-5 stories for this anthology).

The next story came from Michelle Roth, Calculated Risk, and it fitted very nicely with Tina’s, involving a man to do some house repairs and the woman of the house manages to repair his broken heart persuading him to mix business with pleasure. So I had half an anthology. My only issue was that she had included a raccoon in her story. I had to explain (admittedly with a laugh) that we didn’t get raccoons in England. She changed it to a cat!

When Bella Settarra submitted a ménage story, Ménage at Mealtime, involving two hunky guys needed to sweep a chimney for an aspiring writer, I was delighted. It was different enough from the others (I didn’t want lots of stories of guys doing house repairs, for instance) and at the same time steaming!

I only needed one more story at this point and it was one that I had come up with myself while waiting for submissions to come in. Entitled, Marital Duties, it is the story of the owner of the Men for Hire firm and how she was frustrated that several of her employees were falling for the women they were working for and she couldn’t even get sex from her own husband. She fills out one of her own job request forms not meaning for him to get it. When he realises what happened, he decides to play her at her own game and do lots of marital duties for her… just not the one she wants. At least, not at first.

And so we had an anthology. Yippee!.

There were several other submissions I had to reject because they didn’t fit or they were too similar to the others. One was more sci-fi and it was accepted by Luminosity as an individual title. Another was an MM story which we are hoping to include in a second Men for Hire anthology which involves just men. The deadline is coming fast for that with the intention to publish it in the New Year. Watch this space….

Links

Luminosity

Amazon

ARe Nook
Kobo

Google

“You can call me Sir.” Something Brave by Victoria Blisse - Cover Reveal

Victoria Blisse’s newest BDSM novella is available for Pre-order at Totally Bound now. It’s the story of a shy vanilla woman and how she meets the only man she’s ever wanted to submit to. Felicity discovers her kinky side with the help of a Man she only knows as ‘Sir.’

Blurb:

Blushing, hesitant Felicity does something incredibly brave and submits to a man she only knows as Sir, but will his demands push her beyond her limits?

Felicity attends the local burlesque fair just to sell her Quietly Cute jewelry. A handsome stranger offers to spank her, and she surprises herself by submitting. Sir makes her choose the implement he will use to take her spanking virginity—and uses it to great effect.

She finds herself becoming the sexy, self-made billionaire’s sub, who is punished with bondage, forced into exhibitionism, hot wax and other delicious tortures. Felicity submits willingly, becoming braver with every interaction. But when Samuel offers her the means to establish her business and pulls her out of the poverty she lives in, she snaps, seeing it as an insult to her pride and possibly even a payment for her sexual services.

Can Samuel convince her otherwise, or will she walk out of his life forever? 

General Release Date: 17th November 2015

Excerpt:

“Oh, I think of you all the time, Felicity. When I’m meant to be concentrating on the figures, one…” She felt an explosion of heat just above her belly button a second after he paused, and she gasped and pulled her stomach in.

“Two.” Another drop landed a little higher, between her ribs, and she felt the two hot impact spots melting together into a river of warmth.

“Well, you get the idea.”

She heard the mirth in his voice. He was enjoying watching her squirm. Another drop of wax splashed between her breasts. The impact burned, and she writhed against her bonds. It wasn’t nice, it wasn’t pleasant, but the warmth and the condensing pull of the cooling wax was strangely sensual. She wanted more as much as she wanted it to stop.

“I think of you over breakfast, whenever I see a pretty item of jewelery, when I look out of my office window, when I touch my desk. I see you there, stretched out and eager for your spanking. I think about you when I pick up my briefcase, when I loosen my tie. All the time, Felicity. You’re always on my mind.”

She heard a rasp, sensed movement beside her. Had he put the candle down?

“I get overwhelmed by thoughts of you all the time.”

Another dribble landed at the top of her left breast and the drop turned into a stream that burned a trail down to just before her nipple. She clenched her teeth, expecting the burning to explode on her sensitive nub, but it didn’t. She relaxed.

“Another confession, Felicity. When I think of you, I get turned on.”

 * * *

You can Pre-order Something Brave from Totally Bound now, Early download will be available on the 20^th October exclusively at my publisher’s site and general release is the 17^th November.

Bio:

Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco, Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

Victoria is also one of the brains behind the fabulous Smut events, days and nights dedicated to erotica, fun and prizes. Check out http://ilovesmut.uk  for more details.

She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories.

Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

You can find often find Victoria procrastinating on Facebook http://facebook.com/victoriablisse , Twitter http://twitter.com/victoriablisse  and Pinterest http://pinterest.com/victoriablisse

To find out more check out http://victoriablisse.co.uk

Rule Breaker - Early Download

If you head on over to Totally Bound NOW you can grab your copy of Rule Breaker before anyone else!

It will be on general release on the 10th November and available from all good retailers in ebook and paperback.

Back Cover Information

Locks, keys and prison bars can’t contain a love that’s meant to roam wild and free, but when that love is let loose will Lacey be able to handle what’s heading her way?

Rules are meant to protect the innocent and keep danger at bay. Except for me the lines blur and it all started when I met the ultimate bad boy. But is he? Miller Davenport might be big, bad and brimming with sin but he’s confessed his crimes and for ten years he’s served his time and walked the line.

Everyone deserves a second chance, right? And as his nurse, the one person who understands him, I can’t help but count the days till we can be together properly without guards watching over us and without every look and word we share censored.

When that day comes, though, will our desire for each other explode and take me to the new heights he’s promised, and if so how will I survive such intensity?

One thing is for sure, with Miller I’ll be whisked up in a whirlwind of his dark energy and a tornado of his lust, and likely taken to the very edge of what I can handle. I can’t help a few nerves, though, as release day approaches, because if it all comes crashing down who can I depend on when I’ve ridden into the sunset with a man who’s broken all the rules? Will I be saved or will I have pushed everyone and everything too far?

Grab your copy TODAY

Masturbation Monday

Welcome to Masturbation Monday. This week a few from Anything for Him which is a co-author with Natalie Dae and published by Mischief at HarperCollins.

Grab your copy of Anything for Him from Amazon and all other good ebook retailers.

I stared at the photograph he’d emailed me. He’d promised he would and, finally, it had arrived.

  It wasn’t what I’d expected; not that I thought for a minute he’d send me a copy of his passport photo; but this, this had really taken me by surprise. The odd angle of the camera lens and the overwhelming suggestiveness shocked me. It was deeply personal, completely voyeuristic and undoubtedly the most erotic image I had ever laid eyes on.

  But it gave nothing away of the face I longed to see; yet, it told me so much about the man I’d been obsessing about for weeks. I reached over and clicked the printer to life. As it clanked through the setting-up motions, I leaned closer to my computer screen and allowed him to fill my vision.

  His long, pale, black-hair-coated shin was in the forefront of the picture. The knee flopped wantonly towards the camera, making the patella the largest thing in the frame. His foot was out of shot. Beyond his leg, I could make out the right side of his torso – just – a small amount of lean waist, a hint at a taut set of ribs and a balled shoulder leading to what looked like a busy hand. I say busy, because he appeared to be jerking off, but of course, that could just be my filthy imagination.

  His head was thrown back, his chin jutted upwards, his prominent Adam’s apple in profile against the bottle-green wall behind him. Other than his chin, not one facial feature could be identified, but what I saw of his chin, chiselled and dented at the centre, led me to believe the rest of his face would be angular and long.

  Seedy shadows doused the whole image, the covers on the bed dusky green, almost brown, and the lighting, maybe shining through a cheap drawn curtain, was dim.

  He seemed completely uninhibited despite the camera, which I guessed was on a timer. I gulped down a bite of bile as a sudden wave of regret at the photo I’d sent him rolled through me. I’d thought I was being sassy, original, beating him at his own game. But it was clear now that I played with someone who knew how to think out of the box, stay a step ahead, out-manoeuvre me without even needing to try.

  The printer creaked to readiness and I hit the print button. I had to have his image in my hands, laser scanned, details ripe for scrutiny. As it whirred and heaved and slowly spat out the paper, I paced my office-cum-artist studio, frantically scratching the tops of my arms with my nails.

  Damn that picture of my right areola. Not that it was a bad areola or a bad picture, it wasn’t. I was perfectly pert and the pixel count excellent. I had even rubbed an ice cube around my tight nub, before pulling it to a painful point, then, as a final creative flair, shined a spotlight on it. The dark room and bright light had made my wet skin golden, my nipple a rosy pink. The round-tipped point was blood-filled, the flesh leading to it wrinkled in an ordered, twisted way, as it strained to seek out more stimulation.

  Damn that picture. His wasn’t exactly classy, but it was artistic, unique, risqué. Mine was just a token rude shot, though at least I’d resisted a shot of my newly shaved pussy. I would be in cringing hell right now if I’d followed through with that plan.

  The next question was, of course, would we meet? We’d had a deal – if we liked the look of one another we would make arrangements for a date, a face-to-face encounter. Although, judging by the dirty routes our conversations had taken lately, I reckoned there would be considerably more than just our faces meeting. At least that was what I hoped.

  So, my answer to ‘should we meet’ was a happy-dancing ‘yes’, my panties wet just from the sight of that bony shin and jauntily jutted head. The image of him alone, masturbating, thinking of me, possibly, had me so turned on my clit bobbed and my nipples were as tight as when they’d been treated to that ice cube.

  But what about him? Would he think me unimaginative, boring, dull? The trouble was with Liuz, he was so articulate, so self-assured, and despite his first language being Polish, his mastery of English was excellent. Not that mine isn’t too. I’m a journalist, studied at Canterbury, and I’m also an artist, but somehow he always seemed to second guess what I was saying, or going to say, in my emails.

  I held the newly printed-out photo in the air, the paper warm on my fingertips. I enjoyed having it A4 size, and peered closely.

  I could make out the dark shafts of his leg hairs winding out of his skin, the creases on the sheet below his body wrinkled like ripples in water. Perhaps, also, I could make out a burn of black-fuzzed hair coming down in front of his ear, but I couldn’t be sure. It could be more of the stubble that coated his neck.

  After retrieving a couple of drawing pins from a purple, sparkly pot on my desk, I hung Liuz’s image on my pin board, right in front of my desk. Where I could gorge on it; for when I looked at him, a fraction of the need, the burning want inside me, was sated.

  Taking a deep breath, I did what I had to do next – check my in-box. We’re in the same time zone now that I’m back from my business trip to the United States, so he could have possibly seen it already. Plus, as a general rule he was at his computer. I wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but he worked from home. Marketing he’d said, something about buying and selling stock.

  In-box. One new message.

  From him.

  I sucked in a breath and opened it. Those few seconds it took to process were absolute agony.

  ‘Your picture arrived.’

  A rippling tightness in my guts had my belly tensing. Did he like it? Did he think I’d cheated by sending him so little to go on when he’d offered up so much? Given me such an honest picture that showed him vulnerable, a label I never would have given Liuz.

  Quickly, I typed a response. Typical me, I avoided the pressing point. ‘So did yours.’

  ‘And what did you think?’

  ‘I think you look like you are enjoying yourself.’

  ‘Mmm, enjoying or just taking care of an urge? A necessary task, if you like.’

  ‘So which was it?’

  ‘Which would you rather it was?’

  I hesitated for a moment, then decided to risk a knock-back. ‘I hope you were enjoying yourself. I hope you were thinking of me, imagining you were fucking me.’ I hit send and waited for a response.

  Nothing.

  One minute stretched into two.

  I stood and flung open the window to the autumn morning. Immediately, sounds of the city filtered up. Car horns, bus engines, the shouts of the workmen several buildings down.

  Another message. About bloody time.

  ‘I was thinking of you, but not about fucking you.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out, Aniolku.’

Grab your copy of Anything for Him HERE.

Back Cover Information

Just how far will one woman go to fulfil her fantasies?

I prefer to chase the news, not be the news. But when the delectable Liuz, with his uncannily accurate perception of my secret desires weaved its way into my life, it wasn’t long before I was in way too deep, submerged and intoxicated with a passion I was afraid was more than I could handle.

Or was it? Because although my heart was overwhelmed with feelings I had no resistance against, and while my deceitful body was consumed by a burning passion, I still had a plan. A plan I prayed would keep me afloat as I was pushed to the very edge of my limits, while the journey got tougher than even my wildest flights of fantasy could have imagined.

I claimed him and I felt that he was rightfully mine. My heart simply couldn’t beat without a permanent connection between our hearts, minds and bodies. Losing was not an option, not when my sanity depended on winning him.

Because I would, quite literally, do anything for him.

Enjoy the other Masturbation Monday posts...

Sunday Snog

Welcome to Sunday Snog Smut for Good. Here's a sexy moment from In Expert Hands...

She stood still for a moment, wondering if she’d hear him moving about, but she didn’t. There was no noise coming from anywhere in the apartment, it was totally silent.

The piano stood grandly in its glass alcove. Imogen pulled out the burgundy-colored velvet stool and twisted it to face the city. She sat and took in the panoramic view. The Chrysler building loomed large, the Empire State larger, and all around were interesting rooftops to study. It was a sight she’d never thought she’d get to sit and admire from somewhere so sumptuous and exclusive.

“Imogen.”

She started slightly at the sound of Kane’s deep voice right behind her.

“I didn’t hear you come back,” she said, forcing herself not to turn. She continued to stare outside, chin tipped. 

“I did.” He rested his hand on her left shoulder. “Come back, that is.”

The heat from his palm seeped onto her skin and seemed to slide up her neck. The hairs at her nape tingled.

His wrist was in her peripheral vision. He appeared to be wearing a black jacket and the cuff of a white shirt peeked from beneath it.

He slipped his hand down her chest, not indecently low, his fingers just past her collarbone. It sent tingles of arousal around her body and her breasts shifted upward as she breathed deep.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly.

She continued to stare at the window. She could make out his reflection. He was looking down at her, head bent, and she’d been right, he was wearing a suit—a tuxedo complete with a bow tie.

He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

“Thank you,” she managed. “This style dress isn’t something I’d usually wear.”

“I know, which is why I had it made for you.”

“Made for me?”

“Yes. Made. Exactly to order. And the boots too.”

Imogen crossed and uncrossed her legs. The dress shifted, showing an extra inch of thigh. There was nothing she could do about it short of tugging, which she knew would be to no avail.

He pulled in a breath, blew it out. The breeze of air tickled over her head.

“The boots are…” she said.

“Wonderfully kinky,” he finished for her.

“Yes. Kinky.”

There, it was out in the open.

“And look exquisite on you.” He slipped his hand a little lower, until his fingertips rested on the first inch of material of her dress.

The moment was electric yet delicate. As though they were encased in glass that might shatter if either moved too fast or spoke too loud.

“We’re going to a kinky club, aren’t we?” she asked in barely a whisper. “That’s the kind of club you’re setting up, isn’t it?”

“Is that a problem?”

Was that a problem? No, she guessed it wasn’t. She was curious, that’s why it wasn’t a problem. And it certainly put a new spin on their trip. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I just…”

“You’re just worried about being seen in this stunning outfit.”

“Well, it’s not likely I’d see anyone I know, but still, I’d rather my seniors…”

“You worry too much. I have it all organized.” He slipped his other hand around her neck, swept up the column of her throat and cupped her chin. “I’ll take care of you. When you’re with me, I’ll always take care of you. You don’t need to concern yourself with anything.”

Imogen closed her eyes. A soft sigh escaped her lips. She believed him, she really did. Kane was the most competent man she’d ever met. If he said he’d look after her, then he would.

And his hands, hands that he could use as weapons, hands that ruled a business empire, hands that now skimmed her flesh, held her face. She didn’t want him to ever stop touching her.

“You have to believe that,” he went on in a low murmur. “That while you’re mine you will only ever feel good, only ever be treated with the utmost respect and consideration.”

“Yes,” she managed.

His?

He slid his hand lower over her dress to the rise of her breast. “Imogen.” He tilted her head farther up, his fingers pressing gently on her throat. “Do you trust me?”

“I think so.”

For a moment he was quiet, then, “That’s a good start.” He stroked his thumb across her cheek and placed his lips by her ear. “But before we do anything else I need you to wear one more thing.”

Imogen breathed in his cologne, spicy and sexy. Her breasts ached with desire, her abdomen clenched, and her clitoris tingled with need. What else could she possibly wear?

He lifted his touch from her face and chest and carefully released the clasp on her necklace.

She opened her eyes and again studied his reflection as he set it aside, atop the piano.

“In order for us to truly blend in tonight,” he said, “I need you to wear a different adornment on your neck.” He stood directly behind her and plucked something from his pocket.

Imogen couldn’t see what.

But she didn’t wonder for long. He circled her head with his arms and held a thin strip of leather in front of her with a small red metal buckle and several holes. It appeared to be a collar.

“What is it?” she asked, her attention fixated on it.

“It’s a symbol that you belong to me,” he said. “So at the club you won’t get pestered by other Doms.”

She opened her mouth to speak. Questions were piling up on her tongue. A collar? Belong to him? Other Doms?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sure you have a million things you want to ask me, and yes, I’m probably moving too fast. But this is all quite necessary and we have all night for you to ask me whatever you want to.”

Imogen closed her mouth. 

“So may I?” he asked, “Put my collar on you?”

You can grab your copy of In Expert Hands from Amazon and thanks for joining in Smut for Good. If you want to donate to the Action Against Hunger Cause here's the link.

All About Sexy ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #MySexyAuthors #Saturday7 #MSS113

Welcome to My Sexy Saturday. This week a sexy date being arranged from my novel In Expert Hands, Imogen doesn't know it yet but she's in for the ride of her life!

He smirked. “Please don’t look so alarmed. I haven’t been stalking you. I just like to know the details about my inner circle, and you, Imogen, are definitely in that circle.”

Alarm warred with flattery. She was in Kane Ward’s inner circle? The Kane Ward. Yes, of course she was. She’d been handling his accounts for several years. They’d known each other for just as long, in a professional sense, of course. Why wouldn’t she be in his inner circle?

“So ten o’clock,” he said. “Wear something pretty, and a hat if you have one.”

Pretty? A hat? What the…?

“You mean…not a suit.” She glanced down at the gray pencil skirt she’d teamed with a matching jacket that morning. Beneath it she wore a simple white silk shirt and a string of red beads that matched her heeled shoes.

“Much as power dressing is very attractive,” he said, following her line of sight, “I think you’d be more comfortable in a dress.”

“Where are we going?” Imogen beat down a wave of panic. A dress? Bloody hell. Did she have any pretty dresses in her wardrobe? And a hat?

“Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out. But you will enjoy it, I promise.” He shoved back the sleeve on his jacket and glanced at his watch. “I have to go.”

Imogen stood and pressed her hand over her thighs, pushing the faint lines from her skirt. “Yes, of course, and I’ll follow your instructions to the letter and get your accounts switched exactly as you want.”

“Perfect.” He smiled.

It was a little shady, though, secretive, as if she’d said something in a way that had pleased him over and above his banking business.

She wasn’t sure what.

You can grab your copy of In Expert Hands from Amazon and while you're there check out the many 5* reviews.