Friday, August 30, 2013

Ranking in the Top 100 in Fantasy at Kobo Books @DenyseBridger

In a random search last week, I discovered my fantasy novel, AS FATE DECREES had broken the top 100 in its category on Canada's National site, KOBO Books. Tonight, curiosity made me look again, and this week the ratings are even more stunning. SO, to the readers who are buying this book now that it's available in eFormats as well as paperback - THANK YOU!

As Fate Decrees
#50 in Sci Fi & Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
#488 in Sci Fi & Fantasy, Fantasy


KOBO  |  Amazon




The gods of ancient Greece must find a mortal champion to defend their fate.

“Go and seek the one I have told you about, she is frail and in need of help. Look not of upper blood, for I have seen her down in the dirt. She is held against her will. Find her and you shall find your savior.” — The Oracle of Delphi

In ancient Greece the young maiden, Amarantha, is captured and sold in the slave market of Athens.

"What fates await?" she wonders. "And what divine design will the Olympian gods have for me?"

As unexpectedly as she had found herself placed in chains, Amarantha finds herself purchased by a mysterious master who refuses to reveal his true identity.

But he is no ordinary man, nor she an ordinary slave.

Under her master's tutelage, Amarantha is trained as a fighter and challenged to prove herself in battle after battle until her skills are perfected and she is granted the right to know his true identity.

He is Ares, god of war and the son of Zeus. And she is to become Champion to the gods of Olympus; bound forever to serve and vanquish all foes until the gods themselves grant her peace.

But even gods are not immune to the fickle twists of fate, and Amarantha is soon ripped from her quiet resting place and cast through time itself to do battle with a modern day reincarnation of an old foe - a madman bent on rewriting history to suit his own twisted desire.

She must act quickly to win this battle, for the fate of all Olympian gods hangs in a delicate balance between immortality and the realization that even the gods themselves may be returned to the dust from which they arose.


For further information please see:

Media Kit (PDF)
Amazon.com (USA)
Amazon.ca (Canada)

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Sexy As Hell with @Lily_Harlem



Sexy as Hell Trilogy  -
The Virgin, The Player and The Vixen
By Harlem Dae

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.

Please note, in order to enjoy Victor and Zara’s adventures, the trilogy must be read in order.

About the Authors

Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae have been writing together for several years on top of their individual author projects. Their joint name is now Harlem Dae. They enjoy being represented by traditional houses including HarperCollins and Total-E- Bound as well self-publishing their sexy stories on Amazon. Both live in the UK and gain great satisfaction from bouncing characters and their raunchy antics back and forth, growing, nurturing and stoking plot lines until they steam off the page and push boundaries. They consider themselves to be solitary, whacky, spontaneous and desirous for many things including perfection and are frequently caught sending messages back and forth referring to each other as Rodney and Delboy.


About the Sexy as Hell Novels
The Virgin – Book #1

London – one meeting, one month of lessons and a landslide of depraved new desires.

My journey to Hell started with a decaff coffee. Nothing more than a grey mug full of dull-brown liquid devoid of its most useful ingredient.

One sip, one smile, one touch of her hand and it was soon clear my life wasn’t destined to stay dull. Oh, no, suddenly I had a month of bedroom education planned by a sultry vixen who intended to broaden my horizons beyond my usual peach-pink palette. 

She wanted to take me to deep purples and navy blues and the pitch blackness that was pure sin. And on the other side of that blackness was a place that might look like Hell, with debauchery and wantonness, people playing devil’s advocate, luring innocents into the hotter, steamier corners of the world.

Her world.

Oh, yes, she promised each night to take me there and paint me an orange-and-red picture that would come alive, flickering like flames, enticing me, holding me spellbound and eager to learn more. To touch, explore, drown in coming.

And drown I would. I was no match for her tricks and taunts. My only chance of survival was to show her that I was no vanilla virgin. I had a rainbow of mastery up my sleeve, too, and if she just opened her eyes, she might be dazzled enough to stay—stay and take ‘my’ lessons. If she didn’t kill me first, that was, with pleasure.

The Player – Book #2

Tuscany – New lovers, new lessons and an eruption of uncontrollable lust.

The real world was working for me, its pastel shades and straight-and-narrow route a familiar path to tread. It suited me, this normality; it was good for me too. Or so I thought, because the new light in my life, Catherine, was not quite fulfilling my needs. Her lack of colour, the weak whispers of her kisses were not touching my soul the way I’d become accustomed to. I needed more.

More of everything in my darkly addictive rainbow; the wicked wantonness of sin, the depraved pleasure of seedy seduction and the prism of delight I took in being struck…and of doing the striking. I missed the fireworks, the brilliant displays of Technicolor ecstasy that strung me out and bared me to my bones. I wanted to go there again, and take Catherine, too, see if I could have that pyrotechnic display with her. Did she have a riot of vibrant shades beneath her skin or was she magnolia to the core?

My teacher, Zara, told me I could discover her palette. That all I needed to do was show Catherine my world, my new world, the one I’d never inhabited alone. Zara couldn’t come with me this time, she had a new student now. I was on my own, it was down to me. Or was it?

It seemed my teacher had other ideas after all, and when she sashayed back into my life with her rules and murmurs of encouragement, I had no choice but to listen to her, take her advice, follow her lead, even though I knew nothing ever ended well with her. But resistance was futile, my protests fell on deaf ears. But that suited my plans, didn’t it?


The Vixen – Book #3

Venice – Two people, a shed load of baggage and a way forward that takes extreme to new limits.

In an explosion of clarity, the mist cleared and I understood what my lascivious teacher, Zara, really was beneath the surface. I couldn’t see her beautiful core. Like a dank fog warning off poor unfortunates who wandered her way, she wouldn’t let the darkness lift, refused to light the way. But she gave me a key. It was small, stiff, and I was afraid of what I’d find if I turned it. But I did. I couldn’t resist. She did that to me.

In a tumble of truths, I understood her bleak voids and why she filled them with sharp slicing reds and hostile bruising purples. What had happened, what they’d done had bled her of colour and created a woman who needed so much more and always would—for all of time. But I could give her back that vibrancy, I was sure I could; my colours complimented hers and I had plenty of them. My needs could switch to take her to those grey places she needed to visit again in order to obliterate the memories that caused her pain. In the space they’d occupied, I’d create a pile of shimmering, perfectly cut-diamond memories, a rainbow cloud of sugar mist to replace that dankness. I could do it; I would help her become more beautiful than anything I’d seen before.

And within that new, delicate ‘thing’ was us. Victor and Zara. Unconventional, extreme, romantic, we spanned every shimmering stroke of the rainbow and all the coal-black shadows on the way down to Hell. But together we could fight demons. I would be her knight in shining armour even if it pushed me to the very limits of what I ever believed I could do to a woman. And what thrilled me, was if I bared my soul, found the courage to be a monster as well as an angel, I had a very real chance of making her mine—or did I? Because the only thing predictable about Zara, was that she was completely unpredictable.




Buy Links

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Author Links
Harlem Dae website http://www.harlemdae.com

Excerpt from The Virgin

I sighed then sipped my coffee, wondering what on earth was the matter with me. Perhaps this game with Victor was dragging me down. If that was the case, I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I stared into space, working out what to show him next. There were the Swedes—mustn’t forget those—but maybe they’d be better off left for the finale. God, that would give him a last visual to remember his time with me by. I could only hope he learned from what I was teaching him and didn’t file it in the back of his mind. What a waste if he didn’t use it with future women, either as a sub or having a go at domination himself. When he’d got going last night he’d given off an unstoppable energy. It was muted assertiveness yes, but I was pretty sure it was there.

Bile rose into my throat.

Was I coming down with something? That would be all I’d need, being sick smack bang in the middle of a bet. I breathed deeply, waiting for a slash of nausea to strike, but nothing came. Maybe the milk in the coffee wasn’t as fresh as it could be. I shrugged, once again studying the men in the coffee shop. One of them, nice-looking and hair much like Victor’s, greying a bit at the temples but not quite as long at the back as his, was typing steadfastly on his laptop. I wondered what he did for a living that meant he spent his coffee break working. Or perhaps he wasn’t working at all. He might well be firing off saucy emails to a woman who read them while frigging her clit. Would Victor be up for something like that?

I wasn’t about to wait to find out. I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. Having stored his email address in my mind, I tapped the icon for my mail app and typed it in, taking a moment to think on what to put. In the subject line I typed CAN YOU WALK PROPERLY TODAY? then proceeded with the main entry.

Dear Mr Doesn’t-Know-It-All-But-Knows-A-Bit-More-Than-Before,
I hope this email finds you in good spirits. How is your arse? Sore? I imagine it is. Mine isn’t, just in case you were wondering. I have a blissful kind of ache going on down there, and every time I move I think of you with your cock inside me. I have to admit, I’m wondering how that cock would feel in my cunt again, but we have plenty of time for me to find out, don’t we?

Now, about tonight. I doubt your back hole is up for any more invasions just yet, so I thought us watching a performance might be the best way to go. There’s an act you haven’t seen yet—The Harlequin; you’ll see why when you get there—and it will show you a thing or two.

8 o’clock sharp at Eden Street. If you don’t turn up this time…well, it’d be pointless if you didn’t. You know damn well I’ll only come and find you and do what I have in mind anyway. And you’ll enjoy it, I promise.

By the way, I’m enjoying a lovely coffee. Isn’t it about time you took a break?
Mistress Z

I smiled as I hit SEND, imagining his mail alarm tinkling, him opening his email browser thinking it was a client or one of his staff, only to find little old me had barged into his inbox. I wanted to barge into his inbox for real, but like I’d said to him, I didn’t think his arse could take another invasion so soon.

I sipped and gazed around while waiting for his response. If he didn’t send one immediately, then that was all right. He might be busy drawing or in a meeting or something. I hoped he wasn’t—hoped he was at his desk, bored and waiting for a decent distraction. Did he ever get bored at work, what with all those important projects to be getting on with?

My phone gave a solitary blip, and I looked down to see a number one in the corner of my mail icon. Excited, and wanting to laugh so loud it made people stare, I opened my mail.

Dear Mistress Z,
You are so naughty, emailing me like this. What did I tell you last night? I’m a busy man—too busy to be having filthy email conversations with you. Too busy to take a bloody break.

Yes, I’ll be at Eden Street at 8, not because you ordered me there but because I want to see The Harlequin. I enjoy a good show—perhaps you’d like me to take you to one of my kind some day? And yes, my arse is sore, thank you very much.

Mr Won’t-Take-Any-More-Orders-For-The-Rest-Of-The-Day

Ha! So he wasn’t so busy that he didn’t have time to respond. And as for not taking any more orders…he’d be taking them tonight.

Dear Mr I’m-Too-Busy-For-My-Mistress-Who-Likes-To-Put-Things-Up-My-Arse,
Thank you so much for your prompt response, despite being a very busy man. I appreciate you finding the time to squeeze me into your hectic schedule. I should be flattered. However, there’s always time for a bit of slap and tickle, and I aim to show you that all work and no play might make Victor a very dull man. And it had made you dull, hadn’t it? Admit it. When was the last time you had fun before you met me? Lighten up a little.

If you have a client sitting opposite your desk—and I can’t imagine you being so rude as to write filth to me if you did; again, not enough balls—or you have someone in your office, or perhaps you’re in someone else’s office and answering mail on your phone, just imagine what they’d think if they knew what we were talking about. Don’t you think it makes for an interesting deviance from your usual boring day? What a secret to have, sending raunchy messages to a woman when no one else knows.

What a secret to have when a woman emails you saying she’d like nothing more than to pay you a visit, yank down your trousers, and stuff your very hard cock into her mouth.

And you are hard, aren’t you?
Mistress Z

I sent the message and smiled. I was skating on thin ice here, risking annoying him or getting him so exasperated that the next response from him might not be so kind. Still, it was passing the time, and I could imagine him now, reading my message with a too-hard cock and no way to relieve it unless he visited the bathroom and took himself in hand. If he was in a meeting, all the better. A stiffy when sitting at a conference table could only make him want to see me tonight all the more.

My alert pinged.

Dear Mistress-Z-Who-Is-So-Infuriating-She-Makes-Me-Want-To-Scream,
I’m alone in my office, trying to work, and no, that doesn’t mean you can send me more of your dirty little messages. I really do need to get along here, and it’s all very well saying I should have secrets and should enjoy all this email sex malarkey—and I am in a way, I just wish you hadn’t chosen today to do it—but I have deadlines.

I don’t want to brush you off, believe me I don’t, but in answer to your question, yes, I’m too damn hard and it’s going to take a while for me to stop thinking about your pert little body and concentrate on work.

Now stop it. I mean it, just stop.
Mr Wants-To-Fuck-Around-With-You-But-Can’t

A grin a mile wide spread across my face. That was all I’d been after, him admitting he wanted me, giving me some assurance that he’d be at Eden Street tonight. Oh, I knew he’d said he’d be there, but after his no-show before, I’d had to make sure. And now I knew he wanted to fuck me, was sitting at his desk trying to deflate his cock, I was on cloud nine.

As I was just about to hug myself in victory, the man who looked a bit like Victor came up to my table. I stared at him, wondering what he could want, and slid my phone back into my bag.

“May I join you?” he asked.

“If you like,” I said, giving him my best I-can-hook-you-in-a-heartbeat smile. It felt wrong on my face, stretching it painfully, and I didn’t understand why. “So,” I said, following my usual patter, “what brings a hunk like you here?”

He grinned, blue eyes flashing, and placed his laptop on the table. “Having the chance to pick up a woman like you.”

Oh, someone else who thought he should be the one to run the show. I refrained from rolling my eyes and gave him another smile instead. Inwardly I sighed at having to go through this again, when all I wanted was to go home and think about tonight. I didn’t like other men encroaching on my time when I was teaching someone else.

So why were you here the other day then? The day Victor dropped in and caught you looking at other men?

I frowned. All right, so I was a hypocrite. I’d have to be honest with myself—this man wasn’t floating my boat, no matter how similar to Victor he was. No matter how attractive he was.

“I’m not here to be picked up,” I said. “I’m…well, I’m seeing someone.”

I stood and grabbed my bag, slinging the strap over my shoulder and heading to the door without looking back. I couldn’t believe I’d said that to him, had turned down the chance at a one-night stand come the end of the month. But it was all I’d been able to think of to get rid of him, to make my exit appear acceptable.

There was no other reason for saying what I had at all.

The future…

Look out for secondary characters in the trilogy, they all have their own sexy as hell stories to tell and they’re coming soon! More details about The Star, The Harlequin and The Mistress on the Harlem Dae website.




Sunday, August 25, 2013

New release from @LexiPost - Passion's Poison

Denysé, thank you so much for having me. I’m thrilled to be here to celebrate the release of my new erotic romance Passion’s Poison. This story was a challenge to write in so many ways, the first of which was because my heroine Bea has poisons she releases when she has intercourse that cause her partners to become ill. Since the book is Erotic Romance, that certainly presented some interesting challenges, and no, Zach is not immune to her poison, so no help there. :)

Another challenge I had was that it is my first real contemporary (the only paranormal element being the poisonous heroine), so that meant all my key characters had to have real occupations. The story takes place in the upper half of New Hampshire and I have no super rich characters.  Okay, maybe one, but everyone had to work (that side effect of reality). The hero and heroine were the easiest. Zach is a former logger turned chainsaw artist and in all actuality, he doesn’t have to work. Bea is a general manager of three inns owned by an eccentric couple. That pays for her small apartment, but she tends to spend most of her time at work. Oh, and Chris, the man who has wanted to date Bea for a long time is a local police officer, which is convenient for him and a pain in the neck for Zach.

The others were a bit more difficult. Why? Well, Bea has six fathers and occupations were critical to distinguishing each one from the other: Andy is a contractor, Charlie is a mechanic, Jim owns his own company, Tony is chief financial officer for a catalog company, Mathew is a real estate agent, and Gerry owns a bar (and a Harley). The occupation helped distinguish the look and character of each father since they all have a scene or two, but no individual father is a focal point for Bea. In fact, they have all played a role in her development since they have been in her life . . . well, all of them except Jim. So needless to say, I did a little research on each profession, just to be sure I wasn’t too far off base.

There were other challenges with this story, but I’ll keep those to myself. Let’s just say that there were no computer crashes and no drinks spilled on the computer, so overall it was a smooth creation (except the cat walking across the keyboard a gazillion times). I’m going to give one ecopy of Passion’s Poison to a lucky commenter, so leave a comment and tell me what occupation(s) you’ve had. I may just need an expert for a future book J Here’s a short excerpt to get a feel for Passion’s Poison

Always, Lexi

Excerpt Passion’s Poison

Bea’s brain kicked into gear at Zach’s words. She wanted him too, but not for just a night. Her pleasurable heat turned frosty. How could that be? She didn’t even know him, but her heart already named him hers. She pushed against his chest to break his embrace.

He let her go.

She staggered back, her knees shaky, her breaths coming fast. “I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea,” she rasped.

He stared at her quizzically. “What idea would that be? That you’re as attracted to me as I am to you? That this,” he motioned with his hand pointing between them, “is great?”

She shook her head, trying not to look at the large bulge in his jeans. “I-I don’t know. It’s too fast.”

He stared into her eyes. “You mean too hot, don’t you?”

She gulped as his words sent fire racing through her veins. She nodded.

He took a deep breath and jammed his hands into his front pockets. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But it’s not something we can ignore.”

His gaze changed from polite to possessive. “I want you, Beatrice Rappaccini. I want you naked in my bed. Once you’re there I want to taste you, smell you, feel you and pump into you until I lose myself.”

At his words, Bea’s legs turned to slush and she sank into the nearest chair.
He hunkered down in front of her and took her hands. “Bea, is there any reason why we shouldn’t get together?”

Oh, was there. But none she could tell him. He wouldn’t believe her if she did. Her last long-term relationship back in high school ended with her boyfriend in a coma. Despite his eventual recovery, she still carried a pile of guilt around with her. As much as she wanted Zach, she couldn’t be happy with one night. This wasn’t about her need to cleanse the toxins she produced. This was about the idea of having one special man in her life. The only obstacle standing in her way was her deadly body.

Zach dropped her hands. “What is it? You hesitated for too long.” He stood abruptly. “Are you already seeing someone?”

She jerked her head up, surprised by the anger in his tone. “No, I’m not. It’s complicated.”

He walked away from her and stood behind the other couch. “Why do people always have to make things complicated? This is simple human nature, two adults who are attracted to each other. What’s so complicated about that?”

She straightened her shoulders. “First, I’m supposed to be here on business. I don’t think it appropriate to kiss a vendor on company time. Second, I don’t know anything about you except that you can create amazing statues with a chainsaw and you used to be a logger from Maine. I like to know a lot more about a person before I have sex with him.”

How little she knew about her one-night stands stabbed at her conscience, but she ignored it.

He grinned and came around to sit on the couch perpendicular to her chair. He took her hand again. “If those are your only concerns, I can work with that. You’re being very reasonable and I’m being impatient. Forgive me. You’re so damn beautiful, it’s hard for me to control myself.”

Heat rose in her cheeks and she looked down to see his big calloused hand holding hers. She wished it were so simple.

He raised her chin with his other hand. “Bea, I’ll try to be patient if you’re willing to give it a chance.”

She stared at him, this incredible man that her body and her heart seemed to crave. A man who would suffer if she gave in to her own needs, but she was weak. Her head nodded of its own accord while her mind screamed no.

He leaned forward and brushed a featherlight kiss upon her lips.

She wanted to cry at his tenderness and she silently cursed her deranged ancestor again for the poisonous nature he had inflicted on her, on so many Rappaccinis. “I better go.”

He stood with her hand still in his. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

She let him help her up, wishing she could figure out some way for a relationship to work, but a deep-rooted fruitlessness settled deep in her stomach.

He let go of her hand to cup her face in his palms. “You look as if you’re going to cry.”

She put her hands on his chest. “No, I—oh no.”

His brows drew together in concern and his hold tightened on her face. “What’s wrong?”

She stared at the scene over his shoulder. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere now.”

He turned toward the great windows, his arm coming around her, but he remained silent. He squeezed her waist.

Outside the snow fell hard, and on his massive deck a foot of the beautiful white flakes announced her imprisonment. The Tamwick roads would be impassable. How could she stay in his house overnight without sleeping with him? “Maybe, it’s not as bad as it appears. You must have gusts up here, right?”

He raised his brow. “Study the snow. It’s falling straight down. There’s no way you’ll make it back to Meriden in your vehicle.”

She stared at her silent jailer, unable to fault the large white flakes defined against the dark grayness outside. He was right. In his home with the snow piling up, it was as if they were the only two people on earth. But if that were the case, he would be dead within the week.

She shook herself and the foreboding that flooded her body. They weren’t the only two people in the world. In fact, she needed to call Craig. “I better make a few calls. Let people know where I am.”

He stepped away, the energy in his body palatable. “Sure, I’ll go downstairs and get wood for the fireplace. I’m thinking it’s going to be a cold one.”

Zach gave her a reassuring smile that did everything but reassure her. Then he headed downstairs, leaving her body in jitters, her heart aching and her mind frantically searching for answers like a chickadee caught inside a house, desperate to find a way out and accomplishing nothing but harm to itself.

Passion’s Poison is available in electronic formats:


For more information about Lexi Post:

Website  |  Blog  |  Twitter  |  Facebook

Friday, August 16, 2013

First Kiss



He watched the confusion coming back into her eyes, followed swiftly by the sadness that hadn’t been there since he’d brought her to his home. They talked more and more about things that he’d never thought to speak about with other women, and he suspected he was hearing things from her that she’d never said aloud to anyone in her life. It was comforting, and the intimacy was something rare and special to him. Not at all like the sexual intimacies he enjoyed with many other women who’d passed through his life in recent years.

He reached over and touched the smooth curve of her cheek, letting his thumb caress silken skin as he waited for her to look at him again. When she did, the pulse of his heartbeat quickened, and he wondered at it for a moment before he spoke to her, forcing his mind to put the words in English, rather than the native language that flowed so naturally from him when he was caught by emotion.

“No man has the right to take away the beauty of a woman’s self-confidence,” he whispered, the seductive sound a warm breath that caressed her spirit as much as it reassured her injured heart, “do not let someone so unworthy of you take yours.”


Tears glistened in her eyes, and in the afternoon sunshine the moisture that clung to her thick lashes caught the rays like fine crystal. Her smile was tentative and he finally allowed himself to move, to take what he’d wanted from the moment she’d stepped into the morning light and joined him for breakfast. His fingers slid into the thick, waving mane of her hair and he leaned forward to touch her lips with his, tasting the hint of coffee that lingered, before he deepened the kiss into something that spoke of passion and awakened desire…


Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Frostmania has begun!


Dear Readers,

Allow me the honor of welcoming you to one of Crimson Frost Books and Midnight Frost Books amazing author’s blog. We’re very excited to welcome such an incredible group of artistic authors to our house and wish to share their talents and stories with you.

With our grand opening rapidly approaching, we here at CFB/MFB as we’ve affectionately called ourselves hope you’ll share in our excitement for the upcoming events. We’re spotlighting our authors, staff and the books within the next few days on our blog as well as our author’s blogs.  So sit back, grab a cup of Joe, a glass of wine and enjoy the first of many books by talented authors.

Sincerely,
Patricia Bates and Celeste Brammer – Publisher