The large metal cellar doors clang open at 6.45 am. Empty beer kegs land with an echoing clunk onto the sidewalk in preparation for the beer trucks arrival at 7. I'm not there, I can't see it. I know the routine though because it's been the same every week for the last six months.
I remain upstairs, still in bed, directly above the activity at street level. The noise doesn't wake me, instead the sounds filter into my dozing state as I decide if it's too early and too cold to rise.
The truck idles, vibrations rumbling through the old wood and stone structure I now call home. The noise level increases as full kegs, plus cartons of bottled and canned grog, get lowered down to the underground cellar. Well they aren't exactly lowered, that implies a gentle action. The kegs are rolled across cement to the external cellar door, dropped through the hole in the sidewalk down onto a thick rubber tyre, caught (by whoever is lucky enough to be positioned at basement level) as it bounces slightly, then rolled/dragged over more concrete into position where it awaits it turn to be used.
Life in a country pub is interesting, exhausting, funny, frustrating and absolutely nothing like any of us expected. As I said we've been here about six months now. Routines are becoming second nature, lack of sleep and long days are a permanent fixture in life and, for a city girl, my eyes have been opened to a whole new world that I never imagined existed.
When you've lived in a city all your life, or most of it, you have a preconceived image of what life in a county setting is like. It's based on TV shows, commercials, movies and perhaps books. Those media don't present a full or often realistic image of life in the county. I'm sure my short experience so far hasn't painted the complete picture for me either, but I expect the learning curve to be an interesting one.
I'd previously spent eight years living in a semi rural setting so I thought I'd be better prepared for the rigors of a country setting. Not so. Semi rural, I discovered, is just another name for the edge of the city. Semi rural still gave me easy access to shops, choice of medical services and reliable public transport. Unless I travel, there is now none of that. Apart from the pub, Mendooran can lay claim to a takeaway food shop, a combined newsagent/general store/gas station, two recreational clubs, a school and a post office. Choice, just like transport and medical services, is non existent.
One thing we do have though is grog (alcohol, for those who don't understand the Aussie vernacular). And we get our grog every Thursday, rain, hail or shine. Just like the old west's Pony Express, the beer truck never fails to arrive. I'm just glad someone else unloads it because those beer kegs are bloody heavy when they're full.
Thursday, 14 May 2015
Monday, 4 May 2015
Spring is here and it's time for a big giveaway from Laughing Vixen Lounge. 11 shops have come together to create one amazing Prize Pack ($280+) full of Jewelry, Perfume, Clothing, Vintage and much more! Many of the shops offer items perfect for any book lover along with lots of other unique, handcrafted and custom designs.
The Fabulous Spring Giveaway is open worldwide. 1 winner will win the Prize Pack. You can enter via the Rafflecopter below. Please visit the Laughing Vixen Lounge Blog and the Main Giveaway Post HERE to see the full prize list, participating shops and daily features during the giveaway.
Since Summer is right around the corner the giveaway theme is Vacation Memories. Each of our participating shops, and many of our blog sponsors, will be sharing some of their favorite vacation photos with you.
Giveaway runs May 4th - 18th. Laughing Vixen Lounge is responsible for all giveaway details. See full details HERE.
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Thursday, 23 April 2015
With her blond tresses and blue eyes, London fabric retailer Margery “Margie” Tull is used to being admired. When she’s hired to decorate a riverside manor house though, she suspects ulterior motives.
Lord of the manor Percival Winstanley reveals a long ago love triangle leading to death and the bewitching of his son and heir Stephen. Margie’s cousin Shyan is supposed to protect her. But he’s lured away by Winstanley’s cougarish housekeeper, Mrs. DePlessey, leaving Margie in the dubious care of servant Kern.
Unsure whom to trust, Margie turns first to artist Raphael Watts, also working at the house. Meanwhile Stephen hovers in the background trying to draw her attention to a cottage across the river. Somehow the women who live there are a portent of Margie’s fate. If only Stephen can convince her of what lies in store Margie can give new hope to the manor and its heir.
Margie crept from the hall to the library and back again. It was the strangest thing how people either were not there when they were wanted or were breathing down your neck and scaring you out of your skin. There seemed no middle way in this house.
She would have to go upstairs. It was the obvious place to look. She started climbing steps, feeling like an intruder and unsure how she would explain why she was snooping around the house if she did find someone. A snigger told her she was on the right track. Tiptoeing across the landing and down a passage way, she homed in on the intertwined voices, Shyan’s wisecracks and Mrs. DePlessey’s purrs of appreciation.
Through the gap between an open bedroom door and the jamb, Margie watched unobserved. Shyan was standing on a foot stool wearing only underwear. Evidently measuring requirements had reached the upper thigh. A crouching Mrs. DePlessey’s glistening nails trailed a tape over the city boy’s pale flanks. Shyan’s muscles tensed as her fingers neared the straining material of his briefs.
“Am I tickling?” The question was made to sound guileless, like a dentist asking “Am I hurting you?”
“Well a bit,” Shyan said. “But it don’t bother me.”
I’ll bet it doesn’t, Margie thought. She was so mad at him. Had he forgotten why he had come? Not to dally with the housekeeper, that’s for sure.
The waistband was the next number on Mrs. DePlessey’s list, and as her arms circumnavigated Shyan’s midriff with the tape measure she could not refrain from rubbing the bangles on her wrists against his bare skin. The metal must have been cold, because Shyan jumped slightly at the touch.
“Oh, I am sorry. Did I do that?”
You calculating bitch, Margie wanted to shriek. She’d seen better acting on the soaps.
But there was nothing simulated about Shyan’s reaction once the tape made contact at the base of his spine. Margie didn’t have to see below his waistband to know his self-control was on the edge. It wouldn’t take much to unbalance him.
All it did take was another move in Mrs. DePlessey’s repertoire of suggestive contact. As her breasts prodded his stomach, ostensibly so she could complete the tape loop, Shyan’s hands descended onto her shoulders. Then the tape was forgotten as her lips came up to meet his. Her clasping arms steadied him on the wobbling stool. They moved to the bed in an uncoordinated tango, and toppled into a grinding embrace. Shyan tackled the buttons on her blouse. His hand groped for the bra clip at her back. He suckled on an inflamed turret of a nipple, with a gusto equal to Ainsworth’s effort during Margie’s previous spying escapade. Then the couple’s hands met and, steered by one or the other—or both—glided in unison down the crevasse between their bodies until they disappeared inside Shyan’s briefs.
Margie was mesmerized. Exasperated as she was by her cousin’s easy compliance, she couldn’t help being fascinated by this mesh of desires. That was why it was so startling when Mrs. DePlessey rolled Shyan to one side and, with a light kiss on the lips, told him, “We must save this.”
Shyan gaped and attempted to insert a hand between her closed thighs.
“For what?” he asked.
She smiled, not in the provocative way Margie half expected, but rather as if Shyan hadn’t understood.
“In time,” she said. “In time.”
About the Author
A. Silenus spent his early years in southern England and now lives in Arizona. He writes in various genres under different names. His erotica-oriented material includes three self-published sets of short stories, Fiends That Go Boink, which has otherworldly themes, Obsessions and Two Men And A Woman In A Boat.
Other stories have been published in anthologies, ezines and magazines, including Afternoon Delight (Cleis), The MILF Anthology (Blue Moon), Wicked Pleasures (Ravenous Romance), and Forum magazine in the UK.
For more about Silenus and his work, please go to his blog: Basic Writes: http://asilenus.blogspot.com/
Thursday, 9 April 2015
Today's sneaky peek is by fellow Siren author, Michelle Roth. When You Were Mine is book 2 in the Second Chances Series. As well as celebrating the release of a new book, Michelle is also turning one as a published author. It's a double whammy really and because of that she's having a great giveaway that runs from now until the 17th April. Details can be found under the two delicious excerpts she's provided for us to read.
[Siren Classic: Erotic Contemporary Romance, spanking, HEA]
When Cora Blanchard said goodbye to Jamie Connolly seven years ago, she knew she'd have to see him again eventually. What she doesn't expect is for all of the old feelings she thought she had let go to come rushing back to the surface. It was as if nothing had changed. Fresh out of a highly publicized train wreck of a relationship, Cora is afraid to trust in those feelings or in herself. She tries to remain friends with him, but she's just fooling herself. There's no way she can be with him and not want more.
The moment that Jamie sees her, he realizes that seven years of silence and two thousand miles haven't changed his feelings. The only thing that has changed is Cora. He sees a sadness in her eyes that was never there before. Just as Jamie is starting to earn her love and her trust, someone threatens to tear them apart forever.
General Story Excerpt:
He gathered the paint cans and supplies, then moved toward the entrance. As he walked through the main lobby he thought about how he was going to tell Cora. Even more, he thought about the conversation he was going to have with Patty.
He hit the button and waited. When the elevator doors slid open, he was facing one highly surprised Cora. Shit, he thought. This had not gone according to plan.
He winced, felt the flush creep up his neck and then said, “So you're never going to believe this incredibly awkward coincidence.”
A cautious look in her eye, she stepped out of the elevator, took in his painting supplies and said, “Try me.”
“Patty. She rented me a vacant office on the second floor. I didn't realize you were here until I called Evan to ask about painting. This isn't nearly as stalker-ish as it seems. I swear to god.”
Cora considered him for a moment and then said, “It's entirely plausible.”
Jamie made a move to lift a hand, paint can and all, and said, “Scouts honor. My decision to rent an office here has nothing to do with you. I was going to drop these off and then text you to warn you. When I talked to Evan about painting, he figured it out. I love 'em, but my family can sometimes be a real pain in the ass.”
“Agreed,” she responded. “But...you weren't a boy scout, were you?”
“Nope. I still had no idea, though. I'm sorry.”
“This has Patty written all over it, Jamie. It's fine,” Cora said, letting him off the hook.
He gave a small sigh of relief, then asked, “Wanna come take a look? Keep in mind, I'm doing some redecorating.”
Cora looked down at her watch and said, “Sure. Let me go drop off this package and I'll be right back.”
Jamie leaned against the bank of elevators, paint bucket and supplies in hand, as he waited for Cora to finish in the mailroom. He shook his head again, still unable to believe Patty. He really couldn't wait to have a conversation with her. At least Cora hadn't freaked out on him.
When he saw her approaching, he pressed the button for the elevator again. After she stepped inside, he moved into the space with her.
As he hit the second floor, she said, “Oh! I bet you're in the office where the holistic doctor was.”
“Yeah, the landlord said it was a doctor's office that left,” Jamie said, a smile pulling at his lips.
He walked down the hallway, and stopped in front of his new office. He set the paint bucket down and dug for his keys. When he unlocked the door, a waft of stale incense and pot met them.
Cora did a slow turn as they stepped inside, then she wrinkled her nose and said, “Seems like maybe they were more into herbal healing. Unless you've picked up a new hobby that I don't know about?”
She turned to face him, her laughter echoing in the empty space around them. In that moment, her hair draped over her shoulder, eyes shining, all traces of sadness were gone. She was absolutely stunning.
He itched to pull her to him, bury his hands in her hair, and press his mouth against hers. He suspected that wouldn't go over well, so instead, he buried his hands in his pocket and grinned.
After a pause, he said, “That hasn't been my thing since college. Nothing to disclose, Dr. Blanchard. What about you?”
“Never tried it. Apparently all I needed to do was come down the hall,” she said with a snort as she wandered into the conference room.
“Yeah. The landlord is tearing out the carpet over the weekend and putting in hardwood. That'll probably get rid of the smell. Plus, I'm going to air it out in here when I paint,” he said.
“Oh, don't tell me you're replacing this beautiful green paint,” Cora said, a smirk pulling at her lips.
His face deadpan, he said, “Don't worry. Just retouching it.”
Her eyes widened as she said, “Please tell me you're kidding.”
“Completely kidding,” he said with a grin. He reached into his back pocket and grabbed the paint sample out, holding it up for her inspection.
Cora visibly relaxed and said, “Warm beige. I can see that. And you said you found cherrywood furniture?”
“I may go with something lighter. I haven't entirely decided.”
“Hardwood? Nice. By the way, in light of recent events, did you just want to order in lunch tomorrow? That way you can get started early tomorrow.”
“Would you mind?” he asked. Cora had always been thoughtful. It was one of the things that he had liked so much about her. She thought about other people in a way that most people didn't.
“It was my idea, Jamie,” she said, drily. “I remember how exciting putting together my office was.”
“What time did you want to plan for? I'll call in the order.”
He watched her glance down at her watch, saw her eyes widen and heard her mutter, “Crap, crap, crap. I'm gonna be late. I'll check my schedule and text you later. Congrats on the new office!”
Before he could speak, she gave him a quick hug and scurried out of the office past him.
“Bye,” he said to her retreating figure.
Adult Only Excerpt:
One cup of coffee later, she rolled out her yoga mat in her living room. As she slid effortlessly from pose to pose, she could feel the stress leaving her body. She continued working through her routine until she felt completely loose. When she finally opened her eyes, she jumped a little in surprise. Jamie stood there, coffee cup in hand, wearing nothing but boxers and a smile.
Putting a hand over her heart, she said, “I didn't realize you were there. You scared me.”
Jamie set the cup of coffee he held onto the dining room table and said, “Tell me you're done with that.”
“I'm done with that,” Cora said, wiping a towel over her brow and wresting the ponytail holder out of her hair. As she shook her hair free, she let out a sigh of relief.
“That was,” Jamie said as he walked toward her, “twenty minutes of pure torture, watching that, baby. I had no idea you were that flexible.”
Jamie stood in front of her now, so close that her breasts brushed against his chest. She said, “I didn't even realize you were watching.”
His hand moved up to slide the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. As he lowered his mouth to her skin, he said, “I couldn't help it. That was so fucking sexy.”
Cora tilted her head to the side as his teeth grazed her shoulder. Goose bumps raised on her arms when he cupped her breast through the cotton tank and began to rub his thumb lightly over her nipple. The light touches of his fingers and the barest hint of teeth were driving her absolutely crazy.
“Jamie,” she moaned, when she felt the nip of his teeth against her neck.
He lifted his mouth from her shoulder and tugged her tank top over her head without ceremony. When the cool air swept over her, a fresh wave of goose bumps rose on her skin. She took a final step forward, so that they were pressed together, and pulled his mouth down to hers.
As one kiss melded into another, she let her hands roam the muscles of his back and chest, her nails dragging across his skin. When she finally slipped the waistband of his boxers down and began to stroke him, he said, “Fuck, I love the feel of your hands on my cock.”
Cora slowed the speed of her hand and began to kiss her way down his chest, stopping along the way to run her lips and tongue along the ridges of his stomach. As she settled on to her knees, she asked, “But what about the feel of my mouth on your cock?”
She continued to stroke with one hand as she leaned in to swirl her tongue around the tip of his erection. Licking along the length of it, she flicked her tongue against the sensitive spot just below the head, before she took him fully into her mouth.
One of the hands that had been hanging loosely at his side immediately slid into her hair, gripping it tightly. Cora whimpered around his cock as she felt a flood of arousal between her thighs. She hadn't thought she'd enjoy the slight edge of pain, but the fact that she was dripping with arousal, said otherwise.
Jamie began to rock his hips, thrusting into her mouth. When his hand tightened in her hair, she moaned around him and pressed her thighs together, hoping to alleviate some the throbbing ache.
When she shifted again, and whimpered around his thick cock, Jamie asked, “Is sucking my cock turning you on, Cora? Why don't you play with that pretty pussy for me? Slide those shorts down if you can.”
Cora only hesitated a moment before she moved her hands to slide her shorts down. Once they were at her knees, she wiggled slightly so she wasn't trapped in them.
“That's it,” Jamie groaned. “Spread your thighs, sweetheart. I want to see. Show me how wet you are.”
Needy, Cora dipped her hand between her thighs and held it up. It glistened with her cream.
“Fuck, baby. You're soaked. Rub your clit for me. I wanna see you fall apart.”
Cora moved one hand back up to stroke along his length and slid the other between her thighs. Pressing two fingers inside her aching cunt, she began to rock against her hand as he fucked her mouth. She ground herself against her palm, desperate for any sort of friction on her aching clit.
She wanted to see him lose control. She wanted him feeling as wild and needy as she was. Cora knew just how to make that happen. Moving her hand from around his length, she relaxed her jaw, taking him even deeper into her mouth.
When he nudged the back of her throat, Jamie ground out, “Sweet fucking christ. Just like that.”
As the beginnings of release started, she whimpered around his cock. She shifted her hand and now rubbed tight circles around her throbbing clit. The ache only intensified.
Almost lightheaded, she reached underneath, lightly massaging his balls. When he gritted out, “Oh, fuck. Like that,” and gave her hair another rough tug, she cried out around his cock, release barreling through her like a freight train.
Seconds later he said, “Oh christ, baby. I'm gonna come,” as he erupted in her mouth.
Cora felt the hot liquid hit the back of her throat and continued to swallow until the grip on her hair had loosened slightly. Her body throbbed with release in time with his, but it wasn't nearly enough. Something about this man made her all but insatiable.
In honor of her one year anniversary as an author, Michelle Roth is running a contest. One lucky winner will receive her entire back catalog along with this newest release in electronic format. The contest runs until midnight on April 17th. The winner will be contacted with 48 hours of the contest's close. Enter here: http://www.michelleroth.net/contest/
About the Author:
Michelle Roth is a novelist from the Great White North (Toronto, ON). When she’s not disappearing into foreign lands, or making two perfect strangers that she invented fall in love, she’s probably curled up somewhere with a glass of wine and a good book.
In her spare time she is typically hanging out with her awesome boyfriend and their two equally awesome cats. She likes taking road trips to nowhere in particular, cooking elaborate meals then making other people do the dishes, and being nerdy on the internet. Her books are currently available on http://www.bookstrand.com/michelle-roth
Amazon Author: http://www.amazon.com/Michelle-Roth/e/B00KQNZOAW