And here’s where the magic happens…

Happy Saturday everyone!!!

Thought I’d share my writing place with you today, the place where the ‘magic’ happens. Not the Harry Potter kind of magic but the writing magic! My writing place is where I’m sitting right now, tapping away on my laptop, trying to complete my current WIP!

We don’t have the room for a study or even a desk, so I write in this chair in my lounge. It’s comfortable and means that I get to sit with my family and the dogs while I write. If they’re being noisy or the TV is on, I just plug in my headphones and listen to some good writing tunes. Occasionally, I write in bed or at the kitchen table but I’m usually found in the lounge. Next to the chair is the footstool which currently holds my note pads. I always have at least three or four full of story ideas, character notes and other reminders.

IMG_1784

Where do you read or write? Do you find it difficult to get the time and the peace to do either?

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

©Depositphotos/ konradbak


(And this is for inspirational purposes, of course!)

Hugs!
Molly xxx

Blog Hop Interview – Tag You’re It!

Blog hop two

I was tagged for this blog post by the lovely and talented Claudia Burgoa.
Thanks Claudia!
Why not check out her blog and her latest release?

So here are my answers:

What are you working on right now?

I have a few works in progress. I’ve just completed an erotic novella set in the historical Wild West (on a steam train, no less) and I’ve nearly finished the first draft of a modern romance featuring a French rugby player and a Welsh celebrity agent.

How does it differ from other works in its genre?

Umm, well, the historical novella is set during a train journey – so I guess that’s a bit different to some other Westerns and the modern romance is set in the heart of Wales. I’m not sure that many romance novels are actually set in Cardiff. The modern romance will be submitted under a different pen name. Watch this space! 😉

Why do you write what you do?

I LOVE writing! It’s what makes me smile – other than my husband and children. I’m so happy when I can plot and type and let my imagination run wild. I adore historical novels and romances and therefore, setting my own novels in historical settings makes sense. The modern romance is in response to a new line with one particular publisher. I just have to hope that they love it!

How does your writing process work?

Wherever… whenever! I make notes on my IPhone and in my little notebook all the time. I scribble on bits of paper and stuff them in my bag. I’m always plotting and creating and asking ‘What if…’ Plus my characters follow me around all day – and sometimes interrupt my sleep – asking me to write their stories. How could I possibly refuse?

I would now like to tag the following authors:

Tag you're it

Ana Blaze

Celeste Rupert

Sotia Lazu

Molly xxx

MOLLY’S MATES – CELESTE RUPERT

©Depositphotos/ VG

©Depositphotos/ VG

Today I’d like to welcome fellow Total-E-Bound author Celeste Rupert to my blog.

Her book, Holding Court is a Western Erotic Romance and was released on September 6, 2013.

Describe the genre of this particular title. Is it the only genre you write in?
I only write Western Erotic Romance (as Celeste Rupert) – Holding Court definitely leans more towards BDSM than my other books, but it’s also more romantic. It’s both the kinkiest and the sappiest story I’ve written so far.

How did you come up with the title of your book or series?
Titles are always a challenge for me, but this one was easy. The hero’s name is Courtland … Holding Court was perfect!

When did you start writing toward publication?
I started writing fiction in 2009 while I was recovering from surgery and going stir crazy staying in the house for so long. I started writing erotic romance on a dare a couple years later.

What is your writing routine like?
I would love to say I write every day, but even when that’s the goal I don’t very often accomplish it. But when I get started drafting a story, I like to do nothing but write. Shame about life getting in the way!

Do you ever suffer from writer’s block and if so, do you have any tips on how to overcome it?
I don’t have writer’s block so much as writer’s distraction. Is that a thing? If I can focus, then I can write. It’s the focus thing that’s a challenge for me.

Thanks for answering the questions, Celeste!

Now, can you share two/three fun facts about yourself?

I never wear matching socks, I’m deathly afraid of butterflies and I have a pet chicken named Tyson.

Lol! I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone afraid of butterflies before and I’ve always wanted to have chickens!


So what’s next for you?

I’m working on a series called Outlaw Women. The first book is titled The Undercover Outlaw, and features a safecracker who disguises her gender in order to get revenge on an old lover. I’m so excited about these stories, can’t wait to share them!


I can’t wait to read them and I bet that my readers feel the same way!

The cover for Holding Court is absolutely gorgeous!

holdingcourt_800

BOOK BLURB – Holding Court
Schoolteacher Clara lives a peaceful, solitary life when she’s away from the school house. That is, other than the nights when rich, powerful landowner Courtland Raymond comes to call.
Court makes her feel things she’d never before dreamed of. He’s forceful and dominant, and he always knows just what she needs. Their secret arrangement allows them to enjoy each other without the disapproval of the community they both rely on for their livelihood.
Clara loves Court, and she’d do nearly anything to be with him forever, a real relationship, but she’s not willing to risk their stolen moments. But when their secret trysts are exposed, will she be able to hold on to Court? Or lose him forever?

Excerpt
A blast of cold air woke her, and Clara snuggled deeper beneath the blankets until she realised what the cold air meant.
Court.
She flung the blankets back and sat up—he was here. He stood just inside the door, big and broad, with his hat in his hands. In the dark, she couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his eyes on her. She stared for a moment, so glad he was finally really there, with her. Then, she launched herself out of bed and across the room.
He met her halfway and she leapt into his arms, her arms around his neck as he bent to take her lips. Clara drank in his kiss, parched for the taste of him after all the time they’d been apart. His mouth was rough on hers, the stubble of his beard scraped her face and all the while his arms, like two solid bands of steel, crushed her closer to him. His woolly coat was covered with snow and Clara shivered as it melted into her robe. Court broke the kiss and brought his hand up to her face. He looked down at her, stroking his thumb slowly over her cheekbone.
“Clara,” he said, his voice husky and low. Then he kissed her again, more slowly, cupping the back of her head with one hand, while sliding the other down the silky rope to pull her closer. Abruptly, he stopped and pulled back. He frowned at her. “What are you wearing?”
Clara put on what she hoped was an innocent look. “The dressing gown you gave me.” She looked down at herself. The silk was damp, darkened in big patches where the melted snow had soaked through to her skin. She shivered again, aware that her nipples showed through the thin fabric.
“Did you read my letter?” His voice sounded loud in the silence of the room.
“Yes.” Clara let her voice falter, as though she’d forgotten the instructions.
“Then you’ll have to be punished.”
Clara shivered again, this time nothing to do with the cold, as a thrill of anticipation went through her. She thought she saw a glimpse of white teeth as he smiled, but it was gone in an instant, his face serious and shadowed once again.
“Take it off,” he said. “I rode all this way, and I’m cold and tired and I didn’t come to see you all covered up.”
Clara fumbled with the knot, and took a deep breath to steady her hands. The belt untied, she let the slippery fabric slide off her shoulders and down to the floor. She heard his intake of breath, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, and she waited, her breath coming short as he looked at her.
When he finally did speak, his voice was raspy. “You should always be naked.”
“So should you.” Clara moved towards him, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“I’ve had a long cold ride, and the first thing I need is a hot bath.” Court took the few steps to sink into the wooden, high backed chair. “Would you mind?”
Clara set herself to the task of heating water and refilling the large copper tub, all the time aware that he was watching her, his eyes following her back and forth as she worked. She felt her face heat as she thought about how she was on display—every curve—then she thought about him touching those curves and other portions of her anatomy heated as well.
Finally, the tub was full, the steam from the surface filling the dimly lit room. Clara went and stood before him, wishing he’d touch her. Court stood, so close to her that Clara could feel the soft wool of his coat against her breasts.
“Undress me.”

WOW! What a sexy excerpt, Celeste! I definitely want to read more! 😉

MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Celeste Rupert lives and writes in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains. Her fascination with the Old West results in stories set in the rough and tumble world of the frontier, full of cowboys and outlaws and women who know exactly what they want and aren’t afraid to go get it.

How can my readers buy your book?
Readers can go to the publisher’s home page at Total-E-Bound Erotic Romance Ebooks or buy on Amazon.

You can find more information about Celeste Rupert and her book, Holding Court by visiting her blog , Twitter @CelesteRupert and Goodreads.

Why not check out Celeste’s books and let her know what you think!

Thank you so much for joining me Celeste!
Molly xxx

Naughty No-No’s Blog Hop

Naughty no-no's

I’m very excited to be part of this blog hop! What a great way to see in the autumn. I love all things erotic and if you follow this blog hop you’ll come across some GREAT erotic romance authors. Check them out here.

I thought I’d treat you today with a sexy excerpt from my debut novella Desire in Deadwood.

If you’d like to be in with a chance of winning a copy, please post a comment at the bottom of the page.Desire in Deadwood has already had several five star reviews and one four star review from Scorching Reviews.

Excerpt

Outside the Gem, she looked around quickly then hurried through the swing doors and into the bar. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of stale sweat and alcohol. A quick scan from under the shawl showed her that it was still quiet so she darted through the bar and headed for the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

Once at the top, Evelyn rushed across the wide landing, which looked down onto the open space of the bar, then paused outside the small room. What would happen today? Would she have to stand before him again, scandalously naked whilst he pleasured himself? Would he force himself upon her and expect her to make love to him with their former passion? If he did, would she be able to feign indifference, to force herself to find no pleasure in their coupling? The thought both terrified and aroused her.

©Depositphotos/ Id1974

©Depositphotos/ Id1974

She knocked then entered immediately and let the shawl slip from her head, her stomach clenching at the thought of seeing him again. But he wasn’t alone. He sat on the chaise longue again with his feet planted squarely on the ground in front of him, but next to him, caressing his muscular thigh possessively, was a young woman.

“Oh.” Evelyn settled the shawl upon her shoulders and self-consciously patted her hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that you had company. Shall I go?”

She turned and was about to step out into the corridor when she felt a hand upon her shoulder. She turned, expecting to look up into Nate’s eyes but instead she looked into the laughing green eyes of a whore.

“Don’t go sweety! We was jus’ waitin’ for ya, see!” the girl wheedled, running a finger up and down Evelyn’s cheek. She shrugged it away, causing the girl to cackle and perform an elaborate curtsey before her.

“What is this, Mr Hamilton? You made no mention of this!” Evelyn lifted her chin and scowled at him. “If I may correct you, my dear Mrs Campbell”—he leant forward resting his arms upon his legs—“I made no specification of details. I merely told you that I was aware of your situation and offered you a way to earn some money. You seemed keen enough.” He shrugged. “You didn’t ask for particulars.”

Evelyn blinked hard as she glared at him. She could not argue with the truth. His offer had been most generous and she really hadn’t any alternative. She’d even reasoned that it would be better to be with Nate, with a man she had loved and been intimate with. Better that than sell herself to a rotten toothed miner who’d paw at her body and rob her of her self- respect. At least that was what she’d thought. But here was Nate, stealing that same self- respect away from her, intent upon humiliating her for his own pleasure. Well she would not let him see how hurt she was. Clearly the man she had known and loved was gone, his love and compassion evaporated by the harsh sunlight like the morning dew on the arid landscape. She slammed the door. There was no going back.

©Depositphotos/ eaniton

©Depositphotos/ eaniton

“So what do you want me to do?” She threw her shawl away from her and unbuttoned her jacket then flung it after the shawl. Nate stared at her, eyebrows raised. The soiled dove gave a harsh laugh then returned to her position at Nate’s side and snuggled into him, entwining a shapely leg around his. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, staring all the while at Evelyn’s face.

So he was playing games. Did he want to get revenge by hurting her?

She pushed down her skirt and kicked it away then she let down her hair. Nate eyed her with the hunger of a starving man, from her cotton bloomers to the flimsy chemise above her corset. She shivered under the intensity of his gaze but she flicked her hair over her shoulders and pushed her chest out. She would show him all that she was—all that she had to give. She would not shy away from his lust. There’d been a time, during their youth, when she’d been apprehensive about undressing in front of him but with his love and tenderness she’d soon been reassured and had even become quite brazen with him. But she’d been so sure of him then, so convinced that he loved her and would never hurt her. This was different.

She was dragged roughly back to the present as the harlot moaned and she watched in horror as Nate allowed the whore to slide his hand into the top of her chemise, whilst she pulled his other hand up to her face and began to suck on his fingers.

Stood in the middle of the room in her underwear and boots, watching the man she had loved being touched and kissed by another woman, Evelyn was consumed with hurt and jealousy. It made her heart pound, and anger burned hot in her belly.

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

“Mrs Campbell,” his voice was almost a whisper, “come over here.”

Not knowing what else she could do, though she longed to turn and run from the room, Evelyn obeyed. Nate reached out to her and pulled her down onto his knee, wrapping his arm around her waist. The whore moved her leg away but kept Nate’s hand upon her breast. Evelyn fought the urge to jump up and flee when the whore threw her head back and reached down to her crotch where she rubbed against the thin cloth of her bloomers, arching her hips up towards her own touch.

“Do you like this, Evelyn?” Nate’s voice was husky. She didn’t trust herself to answer. The whore increased her pace upon herself and began gyrating in ecstasy. Evelyn watched Nate as he eyed the girl. A sigh escaped his lips when the girl reached under her bloomers and continued rubbing at her pussy, faster and faster until she shuddered suddenly and violently, then opened her feline eyes to smile at her audience.

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

Evelyn stared at the girl in shock. How could she be so wanton? The whore seemed to read Evelyn’s mind and she pushed her chemise down to expose small pert breasts then flung her head back as Nate squeezed at a rosy nipple. Her bloomers clung to her damp groin, evidence of her recent climax, and Evelyn’s eyes were glued to the outline of the soiled dove’s sex. Though her mouth was dry and her palms clammy, Evelyn had to admit that she was aroused. But the conflicting emotions threatened to burst out of her in a flurry of tears and violence. She wanted to scratch at her rival for stealing away Nate’s attention yet she knew that it was not the girl’s fault. She, like Evelyn, was doing what she was paid to do. She would not allow Nate to see her jealousy, her pain.

Leaning in towards him she pressed her lips against his jaw. His scent was so familiar and so good that tears sprang into her eyes and her desire for him twitched deep within her. She had loved this man with every fibre of her being, yet she had married another and she wondered now at how much her actions had hurt him. If he had only sent word to her, reassured her of his health, success and imminent return, she would have held on…but she’d had too much to lose. She’d been forced to make a choice under duress and the offer had been open only for a very limited time. What else could she have done?

A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she sought out his lips, but he turned his face away from her and her lips landed instead upon his dark hair.

“No, Mrs Campbell, I will not kiss you. The time for such tenderness is long gone.”

He pulled his arm away from the whore and Evelyn jumped in shock as he squeezed her full breast hard then ripped her chemise down and found the erect nub, tweaking it roughly as he had the whore’s. He rolled his thumb and forefinger over the hard nub and rubbed at the surrounding pale pink circle and the action caused an exquisite flicker deep inside her as if her breasts and cunny were linked. He tugged at her erect nipple and pinched it but the pain was delicious as it fired her longing for him, reigniting a side of her that she had hidden for a decade.
It had been so long.

A groan escaped her and it seemed to spur him on, the rolling and rubbing grew harder and she fought the urge to beg him to move his hand between her legs to offer her the sweet release that he was so capable of doing. Her pussy throbbed, the silken folds moist with desire. She knew that she should push his hand away, pull away from him and run from the room—she was a respectable woman, a mother and a widow—but she knew that she would not, for though his touch was rougher, his eyes harder, her yearning for him pulsed through her even more powerfully than before.

desireindeadwood_postcard

So did you enjoy the excerpt? Tell me what you think by 29th September and you’ll be entered to win a copy of the novella.

Molly xxx

Cowboys and Corsets

I, for one, adore cowboys and corsets. In both of the Western historical novels I’ve written so far, cowboys and corsets feature heavily.

In this post, I’m going to focus on cowboys but I’ll follow it up soon with a post about corsets. (If you want a preview, check out my post Why We Love the Corset at Butterfly Corsets?)

So what is it about cowboys?

I think that a childhood spent with my amazing little Granny and her own fascination with the Wild West probably started it all. We’d sit and eat hot strawberry jam toasties on a Saturday afternoon, whilst watching the likes of John Wayne, Kirk Douglas and Clint Eastwood swagger across the screen of a tiny portable television. Their arrogance and pride, their chaps and Stetsons and their love of the land all hooked me right there and then. They were respectful towards women (usually) and they would bare knuckle fight anyone who insulted their own woman or family.

©Depositphotos/ vanell

©Depositphotos/ vanell

Now, even as a child, I knew that they were acting but it opened a whole new world to me, one where men were chivalrous and masculine with integrity and a thirst for justice. Growing up in the Welsh valleys, the Wild West was a complete contrast and I became fascinated by the wild and rugged landscape and the men who sought to tame it.

My western novels are set in the 1800s. I’m addicted to historical romances and historical novels and I love reading about different times. I’m always thinking ‘what if…’ when I read and write and I like to consider how my characters would have coped with the challenges of day to day life back then, as well as how they’d behave when faced with love and loss. Romance novels require a strong, honourable and sexy hero and cowboys epitomise this. These heroes are brave, deep and honest. They don’t want any trouble but if it finds them, they face it with courage and they stick to their principles – and their guns! 😉 They also have deep dark eyes, broad toned shoulders, thick muscular thighs and abs to die for… but I have to give the heroine (and my lovely reader) a bit of what she fancies!

©Depositphotos/ artem-furman

©Depositphotos/ artem-furman

Add to these qualities an air of mystery and independence, and what more could you wish for? The cowboy often has a past that would make many lesser men break down but he bears it admirably and he doesn’t harp on about how hard he’s had it. It might mean that he has a secret vulnerability that only the heroine can soothe and when he does ‘open up’, it’s a beautiful and sensitive moment. His desire for independence means that he works his land and he cares for his animals, he has the means to support himself and his family and he doesn’t need anyone or anything else. In fact, he doesn’t give a damn what others think. In a society where we deal constantly with job insecurities, rising living costs and are relentlessly bombarded by the message that we need to be better in all areas of our lives, it’s no wonder that the cowboy hero is so appealing.

And why’s that? I hear you ask. Go on, remind me!

He’ll gallop in on his horse, scoop you up in his arms and seat you on the saddle in front of him, then carry you back to his homestead where he’ll make love to you in his rough and ready, yet extremely sensual way and offer you your Happy Ever After (in more ways than one) as only a cowboy can.

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

©Depositphotos/ konradbak

Why not participate in my poll and give your opinion about who the sexiest heroes are?

Molly xxx

Thursday Fun – Add a caption!

Fancy some writing inspiration?

How about add the caption to this photo of one of my bearded dragons? What exactly is going on here?

His name’s Andrew, by the way! 🙂

ANDREW

Go on! Post your caption in the comments. Let’s all have a giggle!

Molly xxx

The Immortality of Significance

I wrote this poem when I was at university. It summed up a lot about me then and I guess it still does now.

The Immortality of Significance

From where does the loneliness come
After the partying stops?
In the moments of solitude
When we crave freedom from company
Yet hate to be alone.

Sharp reality strikes a despairing blow;
Our frail bodies yield their realities.
We are mortal…feathers tossed about on the winds of life
Insignificant yet desiring the immortality of significance.

We gather together in groups and try to bond,
Find similar interests and laugh together in a futile hope for invincibility…

I want to hear the music again and dance,
It is a temporary escape from the burden of knowledge.

Molly Ann Wishlade

©Depositphotos/ sborisov

©Depositphotos/ sborisov