©Depositphotos/ VG

©Depositphotos/ VG

Today I’m very happy to welcome a fellow Welsh author! Hello Ellen March.

Her book, Escorting Sydney Book One of the Doms of Drakos is an erotic romance and was released in June 2013. It has been followed by Shadow Play and One Night in Heaven.

Thanks for joining me, Ellen! So, is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
Yes, I’m a hopeless romantic and believe there really is a soul mate out there for you. And when you discover your other half then don’t let them go.

Describe the genre of this particular title. Is it the only genre you write in?
Erotic romance, hot with a strong emphasis on the romance aspect along with a healthy dollop of humour. Sydney is a person that most people can relate to because she’s far from perfect. I also write supernatural and psychological thrillers. But erotic romance is my first love.

Do you have any rejection stories to share?
Oh boy don’t I just, I had lots and lots. Most of them were the standard congratulations you’ve reached the slush pile. But perseverance being my middle name, eventually they became encouraging, pointing out what my mistakes were. Which I listened to and took on board.
Only one publisher was absolutely vile and I’ve since read on line other negative views about this person. And that’s being polite. This creature brought me to my lowest ebb with a vitriolic attack which was way past personal.
And my message is that unless it’s constructive criticism, ignore cretins like this and keep plugging away. Oh and I’ve kept their e-mails because one day I can tell them ‘big mistake’, in fact ‘huge mistake’! LOL

What is your writing routine like?
Haphazard about sums it up. It fits in with my full time job and home life living with five Alaskan Malamutes. One thing I make sure is that I write every day be it a hundred words or five thousand if it’s a weekend. It’s an addiction to me and I crave that fix. If I’m not writing, I’m thinking and plotting constantly. I tend to people watch a lot and my imagination goes into meltdown wondering what I can use and how I can turn an everyday event into a story.

What sort of promo do you do? Do you have help?
I’m not savvy with social networking but my best friend Leanne Holt kindly created my website and linked it to facebook and twitter. She keeps it updated and does a wonderful job of nagging me for blogs on my site. She’s my true rock keeping me grounded and focused, neither does she mince her words. And what I hate is that she’s invariably right! LOL. As the Welsh say, a true valleys girl and I love her to bits.
I contacted our local newspaper and had a lovely article published, but I wish they’d air brushed me in the photo, also Leanne made sure there was a mention on the local radio of the release date of Escorting Sydney.

Will you share some encouraging words for authors still struggling for that first contract?
Yes, believe in yourself, don’t give up your dream, because it will come true. Keep remembering every bestselling author faced the same pile of rejections. And the reason they’re doing so well? They refused to accept rejection.
This is what kept me going and when revising some of my earlier attempts I wasn’t surprised I’d been turned down because some of it was seriously bad writing. But I learnt, took on board their advice, and each attempt improved, now I’m highly critical of my work.
Keep throwing those words out every day, even if you don’t want to and spend time reading/learning about the craft of writing. Study your market and above all keep a sense of humour.

Do you ever suffer from writer’s block and if so, do you have any tips on how to overcome it?
Can’t really give any advice on this because I’ve never suffered from it. Think the nearest maybe is the middle dip of my novels where I’m kind of what’s next? And I force myself to write anything and it gets me moving even if I have to delete it on the next round of polishing.
I’m a prolific writer and can complete the first draft of a novel in approx two weeks. My problem which I really struggle with is the synopsis, I absolutely hate it with a passion, even preferring the ironing or maybe watching paint dry. I sit and mutter try and work through it read it, delete it, start again, and maybe a week later I’ve two pages written. Maybe that’s my block.

Which famous person would you like to meet and why?
This might sound crazy with all the people out there but the actress Mae West, I’ve always loved her films, her persona and the fact that she was bold brassy sassy and sooo funny, that lady was born way before her time.

Who or what inspires you?
People that don’t give in, don’t give up on what is thrown at them – whoever they are or whatever walk of life they come from.

Thanks so much for your fab answers, Ellen!
Now,can you share two/three fun facts about yourself?

I’m crazy nuts, I’ve got a wicked sense of humour and I’m stupidly impulsive, my mantra being act now think later. I should write a book on a thousand ways of how to get everything wrong.

What’s next for you?
I’ve recently signed up with Catherine Treadgold of Fanny Press and am so excited about the release of Promises which is out on the 1st March 2014. An omen, I hope, because it’s our patron saint of Wales St David’s day, so fingers crossed on that one.

I’m sure it will be a wonderful success, Ellen! 🙂


Pretty is an apt description, an exclusive word that just about sums up Sydney. Pretty plain, pretty overweight and pretty devastated when she finds her sister in bed with her boyfriend.

Can life get any worse? Sydney doesn’t think so until she mistakes a billionaire property developer for the male escort she’s hired.

Logan is only too keen to introduce her into his world, fulfilling all her deepest sexual fantasies. The ones she’s stored into the dark recesses of her mind. Under the compartment called filth, shackled with the chains she has dreamed of.

What Logan wants he takes, and it’s Sydney. For two weeks only, she’ll give her body, and he’ll introduce her into a world of sex she’s only ever dreamed of.

So why is she worried when he tells her he’ll only give her what she asks for?


Sydney snuggled beneath the sheet, dreaming. A smile touched and teased her lips. The bitch was there. Looking on when Oliver kissed her, she could almost taste his tongue running along her lips.
God, it was so real.
“Mmm, Oliver,” she whispered, a sudden blast of cold air smattered across her skin. Her eyes flew open, straight into the harsh face of Logan. An arm each side of her, he leaned across her.
“Sorry to interrupt your dream.” His voice scraped over her, chilled and hard.
“It’s not what you think.” She attempted to assemble her jumbled thoughts. “I mean yes, I was dreaming and then you kissed me. And I kind of, well, got confused.”
“Honey, don’t you ever fucking confuse me with that asshole.”
He was powerless to understand the consuming rage that splintered through him.
“Hey, calm down,” she said. His blazing gaze was directed at her. For fuck’s sake.
“And aren’t you the lucky one walking out of my life tomorrow evening?”
She felt bad, in fact felt like shit. She hadn’t meant to upset him, but Christ, what the hell did he expect
off her, apart from sex? Yeah, she knew, a paycheck at the end of the day. He’d be moving on, screwing some other lonely, lucky bitch whilst she—it went without saying—would be back dabbling in her toy room. Losing her mind talking to a frigging vibrator, and arguing with a fucking battery, then thought of bully. Her sweet golden boy.

Logan glared down at her, and was amazed that instead of looking nervous, worried, or even guilty, she was lying there with a mysterious madonna smile haunting her lips.
“What the hell are you thinking of?” His steaming anger scrambled through his confused thoughts. “More of Oliver?” he
rasped, furious with her reaction.
“No, I was thinking of my toy room,” she admitted, at last glancing up at him. “When you leave that’s what I’m back to. Deciding who or what to use.”
“Lady, I’m going nowhere, at least not without you.” Logan leaned over, threading his hands through her hair, or attempted to and gave up. God, it was a mess. Forget threading fingers through soft tresses—hers was like an untamed hawthorn hedge.
“Did you use your toys with Oliver?” Wanting to know, he almost choked spitting the last word out.
“Er, no, why?”
“Were you adventurous in the bedroom with him?”
“No, strictly missionary. I wasn’t allowed anything else.” She didn’t want to elaborate in case he thought her strange as well.
“Why? Didn’t you go down on him?” Remembering the blow job, his dick began twitching again.
“Wasn’t allowed.” She fixated on her hands, not wanting to witness the sympathy cross his face.
“And you?”
“Nope.” She twisted the sheet.
“So he never fucked your ass either.” The words dripped out.
At last he was beginning to see what sort of sex life they’d had, in total contrast to the night he’d spent with her. “Would you have liked that?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Shame blazed across her face. His hand slid beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“Tell me what else you’d like.” His almost-black eyes bored into hers, commanding, not asking. “Now!”
“Chains and handcuffs, to be taken, to be dominated.” Sydney closed her eyes, convinced he’d think her sick.
“I’m glad you’re honest with me.” Fucking hell, woman. Your ex is one screwed-up asshole.”
“So why are you asking? Do you think I’m sick?”
“No,” he swore. “Why? Did he think that?”
Dropping her gaze, she nodded her head. “You don’t agree with him?”
“No way.” His thumb grazed across her lip, an oh-so-suckable lip. “I like your freckles.” With a wicked slow tempo, a finger drizzled down her nose, edging across her cheekbone.
“Yeah, bloody great.” Dissolving beneath him, she tried to work out how the hell she was going to cope after tomorrow. She was determined to make the most of tonight, her last night of pure mind-blowing sex. She was going to miss him like hell, still debating whether to ring the agency for an extension.
“I like your wrists.”
My what? She tried to work out where the hell that came from. A fetish of some kind? She hoped so. Kinky?
“I’d like to tie you up.”
Whoa, now we’re talking. “And?”
“And blindfold you.”
“And?” God, she was breathless already.
“And fuck you till you didn’t know what day it was. Hear you screaming, begging me to come. But only when I allow it.”
Oh God! She slammed her thighs together. Her mind raced ahead, trying to work out where the hell she could get handcuffs at this time in the evening.

Logan’s lips twitched, skimming his hand under the sheet, polishing his fingers over her pussy. She was hot and wet. He wanted her now, but needed to keep her waiting. Slowly, with an almost clinical precision, he dipped his finger
in—first one, the second following, number three shimmying close behind. They slid deep, awakening a path of lust, invading her, massaging the spot that could drive her crazy, brushing the walls of her cervix. Flicking and searching, his thumb lazily circled her clit, pushing down, and his fingers tinkled and teased with a seductive
tempo until she couldn’t breathe. His gaze slipped down. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising in rapid breaths. She was going to be such a responsive pupil.
Then he stopped.

Sydney fluttered her eyes open, staring up at him in confusion.
The all-consuming pulsing she was experiencing was sending her insane. She wanted him. Now.
“Logan?” Her voice didn’t sound like her own: low, almost
“That’s to remind you of what’s to come.” His voice dripped with promise, adding with a harsh growl. “And it won’t be off fucking Oliver!”
Oh shit, she’d hit a definite nerve there.
She wished he’d stop his intense search of her. His smoke filled gaze soldered over her, igniting her lava flow. He’d peaked her to the edge, and with or without him she was going over. She’d become a natural at masturbation over the last five years. And not all of it required toys. Scuttling a hand between her legs, she rubbed herself.
Logan caught the movement, and flicked the sheet back.
“Come for me, Sydney,” he murmured, feasting on her, the rash of color that rose across her face.
“No, I can’t.” Closing her eyes, she felt his hand on hers. Massaging and circling, leaving it there to sweet talk her clit. She kept her eyes shut, drowning in the heady sensations. They plummeted, flooding over her, a cataclysmic effervescent whirlpool that surged with the speed and devastation of a cyclone.
“Come on, baby.” Logan’s words careened her over the edge, releasing his cock he fisted himself in unison. His hand slid up the entire turgid length with an unhurried ease.
She bucked into an excruciating arc. Her body quivering, she whimpered, groaned aloud, and shuddered with a crash of relief against her hand.
Sydney felt his hand on hers again, smooth yet rough, a mixture of contrasting textures. She refused to open her eyes. Her whole body flushed in a deep shameful cringe, and embarrassment colored her. She couldn’t believe she’d masturbated in front of him. Oh Christ almighty, what was he doing to her?
“Open your eyes and look at me.” The tone of his voice commanding, she couldn’t deny him.
Beautiful grey eyes smouldered into hers. His fingers dipped low, moving in an indefinable lazy stroke between her sensitive folds. Raising them, he licked each digit, sucking on them, little by little, one by delicious one, and her stomach flipped over.
“I like the taste of you honey,” he whispered.
Oh, fucking hell.

Wow! That is one HOT excerpt. Ellen!

I live on top of a mountain in South Wales ideal in the summer not so in the winter months or when it rains, which is a lot in Wales.
My three children have left home, however my life is still manic. I live with my husband he sadly refuses to leave but I live in hope (joke) I also have one suicidal cat that really does have nine lives living alongside five Alaskan Malamutes. They own me literally as I never go anywhere without taking their hair with me, they insist. My hobbies are showing and working them.
My first love though is writing, it’s a total escape for me, my selfish time.
My ambition is to pack in my nine to five job and become a full time writer. Another one of my dreams. I have stockpiled work of various genres including my first love erotic romance followed by psychological thrillers and supernatural. So be prepared I am making my mark on the world of literature. LOL.

How can my readers buy your book?

Readers can go to the publisher’s home page Ravenous Romance.
Check out my book trailer at: Ravenous Romance or Amazon

You can find more information about *Ellen March* and my trilogy *The Doms of Drakos Book One Escorting Sydney* by visiting my website.
I’m also on Twitter Ellen_March@Ms_ellen_march and Facebook.

Thanks so much for visiting my blog Ellen! Diolch!

Now, my lovely readers, Ellen and I have decided to up the stakes this week. We’re offering two £5.00 Amazon vouchers to the best comments or questions. So come on, what are you waiting for? Ask Ellen a question about her writing or make a comment about her excerpt and you could be in with a chance of winning!

Molly xxx


©Depositphotos/ VG

©Depositphotos/ VG

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

Her book, The Wolf on the Run is a wolf shifter romance and was released by Total-E-Bound on October 4th.

thewolfontherun_banner (1)

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?
The Wolf on the Run is all about the importance of family. After losing my mum five years ago I’ve really come to understand what it means to have support from people, even if they’re not blood relatives. In this story, Naomi Duffy is determined to be independent but it’s in her best interests to let Rory and the rest of the Olcan hills pack help her.

Describe the genre of this particular title. Is it the only genre you write in?
The Wolf on the Run focuses on a fictional wolf shifter community, so it’s predominantly paranormal, with erotic elements. I seem to be writing a lot of paranormal stories these days, but really I write whatever comes into my head. I’ve written contemporary romance too, but there are always sizzling hot sex scenes involved somewhere.

When did you start writing toward publication?
I’ve had small articles and short stories published over the years but I started writing seriously about two years ago.

Why have you become a published author?
I’m anti-social lol Writing is the only job I’ve ever enjoyed doing, all I ever wanted to do. It also means I can be at home for my kids so I have the best of both worlds.

Do you have any rejection stories to share?
Who hasn’t? Those rejections are always tough and at the start I took them personally. I would do the whole ‘I’m useless. I can’t write’ wailing and refuse to write for weeks on end. But when I started to get those ‘revise and resubmit’ emails I knew I was making progress.

What is your writing routine like?
I have a desk now so I’m moving up! I have my music, my tea and a notebook and pen. The writing process is longer for me as I tend to write longhand before I type.

What sort of promo do you do? Do you have help?

I’m useless at promo. I’m not really the sort of person who likes to be in the spotlight so I do find this side of things difficult. The extent of my promo seems to be ‘Here’s my book. Buy it…if you want…’ Help in this area usually comes from fellow writers via Facebook, Twitter and Blog invasions!

Will you share some encouraging words for authors still struggling for that first contract?
Persevere. Keep writing and you’ll go from strength to strength. You’ll learn so much more if you finish that manuscript instead of leaving it in a drawer somewhere.

Do you ever suffer from writer’s block and if so, do you have any tips on how to overcome it?
I suffer from it occasionally and I find the best way to deal with it is to clear my head completely. I set the manuscript aside, go and read a good book, go for a long drive and usually when I come back to it I’m ready to move on.

Do you have a critique partner? Can you tell us a bit about them?
I have a whole bunch! We first got together online during a writing competition and have supported each other over the years with our various projects. I know I wouldn’t be where I am today without them.

What advice would you give to your younger self?
Stop moping about and enjoy life! I spent my angsty teenage years dressed in black and in a permanent state of depression. Looking back now I just want to give myself a shake!

Who or what inspires you?
My stories can come from a song lyric or a throwaway comment. But, mostly I get inspired by long drives in the Northern Irish countryside.

Now,can you share two/three fun facts about yourself?
My family think I’m a bit of a weirdo due to my psychic tendencies.
I’m double jointed.
And, I used to paint miniature Irish cottages for a living.

I wonder if there’s link between your psychic tendencies and the paranormal elements that feature in some of your stories.

What’s next for you?
I’ve started work on a new series called, The Department Store. Each book will concentrate on a floor of an old fashioned department store and blossoming romances between the staff and customers. It’s gonna be hot!

It sounds brilliant, Jorja! What a fantastic idea!

thewolfontherun_800 (2)

That’s one gorgeous cover!

As a police officer and Alpha of the Olcan Hills’ pack, being a protector is in Rory Blake’s DNA.
When Naomi Duffy turned up heavily pregnant and alone, Rory’s natural instinct was to look after her. However, her fierce need for independence over the years has ensured they’ve never been anything more than friends.
Naomi has spent too long trying to keep her daughter safe to jeopardise everything for a fling. But, when her past threatens to catch up with her, Rory is the only person she trusts with her life.
Thrown together, the couple finally succumb to their passion and it’s all too easy to forget the danger lurking in the hills.
Do Rory and Naomi have a future together, or will secrets from the past tear them apart?


Naomi came after Rory, pitting her stealthy grace against his sheer power. In his peripheral vision, he could see the wisps of her breath spiralling into the cold air as she forged ahead, determined to catch him. Rory snorted, sending his own white breath curling up into the atmosphere.
He led her over the hills, their claws making short work of carving up the cold, hard terrain. Naomi never lost ground. Even when he made a turn towards the woods on the boundary, she kept pace.
The chase awakened something deep inside him—that animal freedom with no responsibilities except the survival of himself and his pack. The spiky silhouettes of barren trees lined his path, like broad strokes of a black marker pen scratched against the silver sky.
He dodged in and out, never slowing, with Naomi always in pursuit. Occasionally, a pair of woodland eyes blinked at him from the darkness—a rabbit, a fox, observing their bizarre courtship.
Rory had no doubt the exhilaration of their illicit run would end in wild sex between him and Naomi. It was like a very enthusiastic bout of foreplay without actual touching.
They crunched through the leaf-littered forest floor until he tired of being the hunted. He looped back the way they came and stopped in a clearing. In all aspects of life he preferred to be the one doing the chasing, but at this moment in time he wanted nothing more than to be caught.
He shifted back into his naked, horny self. Naomi came to a skidding halt seconds later, scooting a bundle of leaves over his bare feet. “You can run, wolf lady, I’ll give you that. Now can we go back to bed?”
She shifted back to stand beautifully naked before him. “Not until you say it.”
“Say what?” He was hard as hell and ready for round two.
“That I’m as good as you.” She gave him a flirty smile. One which said she was looking forward to the future rather than staring back at the past. The run had obviously done wonders for her too.
“That was probably a fluke. I don’t think you could keep up with me on a normal day. You know, one where you haven’t seduced me on top of a car boot and made me carry you home first.” The play fighting wasn’t limited to their animal personas. Not when it proved such a turn on. Human or wolf, the scent of Naomi’s arousal would always draw him to her.
“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time. But, if you’re tired, just say and we’ll call it a night.” She shrugged her shoulders, making her boobs jiggle enough to bring his erection to full strength once more.
He stepped forward and brushed her wild hair from her face. “I’ll never be too tired for you, Naomi. I’ll race you back. This time the winner stays on top.”
She grinned, eyes twinkling as bright as the stars. “You’re on.”
This was one race he intended to lose.

Jorja Lovett is a British author with both Irish and Scottish roots, which makes for a very dry sense of humour. Writing since she was old enough to wield a pen, it wasn’t until she joined her crit group, UCW, that she pursued her passion seriously.
Now, with Joe Manganiello as her permanent muse, if she can leave the pause button on her Magic Mike dvd long enough, she hopes to spend the rest of her days writing steamy romances.

How can my readers buy your book?
Readers can go to the publisher’s home page at Total-E-Bound or directly to the book page.
You can find more information about Jorja Lovett and my book, *The Wolf on the Run* by visiting my website or my blog .
I’m also on Facebook , Twitter and Goodreads.

Thanks so much for joining me, Jorja! I hope that my readers will check out The Wolf on the Run and your other books!

Do you have a comment or a question for Jorja? Do you have a wolf shifter related comment or a psychic story to share? Comment below and the best comment or question will receive a £5.00 Amazon email voucher.
You have until Friday 18th October to comment then I’ll ask Jorja to pick the winner!

Thanks for visiting!
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

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.


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.


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

Review of Ann Lethbridge’s ‘Her Highland Protector’

Her Highland Protector (The Gilvrys Of Dunros, #2)Her Highland Protector by Ann Lethbridge
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The story of Niall Gilvry and Lady Jenna Aleyne kicks off with action and it doesn’t stop until the final page. It is exciting, passionate, romantic and addictive.
Lady Jenna is an absolutely delightful heroine! She is brave, beautiful, fiery and sensual – a real Scottish pixie – whilst Niall is honourable, strong, sensitive and brave. Add to this his secret vulnerability and he becomes even more attractive.
The love between Jenna and Niall sparks and then grows into full bloom alongside a plot that twists and turns with gripping pace. Ms Lethbridge creates a vivid picture of another time with the setting, customs and historical details that she finely weaves into the story. Jenna and Niall are restricted by the conventions of their society, as well as their own internal conflicts, so their blossoming love and desire causes heartrending conflict for them both, as well as for the reader.
My favourite character had to be the gypsy Sean, who turns up when least expected and often at the times when he’s needed most. He has an air of mystery about him which leaves the reader wondering if he really does have some paranormal intuition or if he’s just a wily wanderer.
I absolutely loved this novel! Niall is the third Gilvry son, which means that I can now indulge myself by reading about his brothers.:-) 

View all my reviews


What is love? Why does it make us do things we wouldn’t normally do? Why does it feel so good at times yet sometimes feel so bad? Why do we like to read about it, hear about it and discuss it? Why is it the topic of so many novels, magazines, movies and chat shows?



Love comes in many forms but my focus in this post is romantic love: the love between a man and a woman; a man and a man or a woman and a woman. It can occur at any age and at any stage of your life but when it does, boy does it have an overwhelming effect!

I wanted to write about romantic love today because as a romance writer, it’s such an important topic. My debut novella Desire in Deadwood will be released on 30th August with Total-E-Bound Erotic Romance EBooks and as it’s an erotic romance, its central theme is, of course, love. The sensuality of the novel is highly important but it is wound around the relationship and the passionate love that exists between my main characters: Evelyn and Nate.

©Depositphotos/Clip Art Guy

©Depositphotos/Clip Art Guy

Now, the practical voices out there will no doubt state that love is often confused with lust and yes, I agree that this is true. However, what intrigues me is where the line between the two is drawn and how exactly do you know the difference? Obviously, when you’re immersed in the euphoria of love or lust yourself, it’s very difficult to be objective. Others around you may shake their heads and try to tell you that it’s hormones and desire, all down to physical attraction, but how do they know? Who really knows? And if that’s the case, then how come lots of people are still madly attracted to the partners they love deeply and who they’ve been with for years? Also, how do you quantify love? I don’t think that you can.

When you fall in love it mystifies, overpowers and consumes and this is what authors want to convey to readers of romance novels. Without love, as a concept and as an emotion, there would be no romance novels. Love is integral to any romance plot and each romance author wants to take the reader on a journey with the main characters so that they can see this love emerge, develop and end happily ever after. It is not to be easily won, though! There must be conflict before the HEA but this makes it all the sweeter. The journey is just as important as the destination.

Important to remember, however, is that love is not just the remit of the young and that love and passion do not necessarily fade. I remember my own Granny and Grandpa being madly in love in their seventies and I know other couples of a similar age who really couldn’t exist without each other. Love can grow and change and it must, for if it remained the same as in those very early days, then we’d all burn out within months, even weeks. Yet it can still exist as an incredibly powerful emotion.

©Depositphotos/ gjohnstonphoto

©Depositphotos/ gjohnstonphoto

In Desire in Deadwood, I’ve weaved the story of Nate and Evelyn. They were deeply in love but separated by circumstances which meant that they didn’t see each other for a decade. However, after all that time, when they meet up in Deadwood, their love and desire for each other resurface as if they haven’t spent a day apart. I tried to portray the passionate intensity of their feelings and their struggle to overcome their conflicts so that they can be together. Do they have a HEA? It’s a rhetorical question really but go on, read it to find out!

Whatever romantic love is, whether a chemical reaction designed to encourage us to procreate or a spiritual and emotional connection that defies all sense and reason, I, for one, am really appreciative of its existence. It may cause happiness, it may cause pain, it may bind you to someone for life or just for a short time, but it makes life interesting and it gives all the writers, poets, movie makers and singers inspiration.

Here’s an extract from Desire in Deadwood where Nate and Evelyn are deeply involved in their own conflict:

Her eyes filled with tears.
“I know that I can never make it up to you and I wish so desperately that I could,” her voice cracked.
“Hush now,” he ran a hand up and down her bare arm, his fingers tingling as he caressed her warm skin from the wrist to the shoulder. She was so beautiful. “You need to rest.”
“But I don’t want to rest, Nate. I waited for so long hoping to see you. I don’t want to waste a single minute of our time together.”
“Neither do I,” he submitted to his love for her, the desire that was battling his festering anger towards her. “But I just don’t know if we can make this right.”
“Look at me, Nate.”
He stared deep into her eyes and saw the twenty-one year old Evelyn; the girl she’d been before he’d left. She’d been so innocent, yet so passionate; so sweet, yet so strong. He had loved her with everything he had to give but when she’d betrayed him he’d been broken.
“Underneath it all, I’m still the same woman you loved then. Other things have changed but I’m still the same person in here.” She pounded her fist upon her chest. “I still love you, Nate. I never stopped loving you.”
He cupped her chin and caressed it with his calloused thumb.
“I never stopped loving you either but I’ve been so angry with you, Evelyn. Those first few months away from you, I worked so hard to find gold and then when I struck lucky I couldn’t wait to get back to tell you. I was proud as a cockerel, strutting around telling all the other fellers I’d make my fortune and offer my woman everything she could possible desire.”
“If only I’d known…”
“I staked my claim then wrote to you. I was afraid to leave in case someone else tried to steal it. I knew I’d get a buyer and as soon as I did and it was all done and dusted, I hurried back to you. I had a nugget of gold safe in my pocket ready to give you so as we could make it into a ring and we’d be able to tell our grandchildren that your wedding band was carved from the gold I’d claimed especially for you. What a story that would’ve been.” His eyes misted over as he remembered the dream he’d once had.
“That was a beautiful idea,” she whispered, squeezing his arm.
“But when I got to your Daddy’s ranch…” He hung his head.
“I was gone.”
“It broke my heart in two, Evelyn. I’d been so sure of us and so sure of you. I never suspected for a moment that you’d even consider marrying someone else.”
“Neither did I. It wasn’t what I really wanted, Nate.”
“Then why’d you do it?” he asked, still holding her chin. He watched as her lower lip trembled and she tried to form the words of an explanation but before she could, he covered her mouth with his own and surrendered to the ache in his heart that begged him to hold her, to taste her and to indulge in the joy of loving her once more.
When he stopped for a moment and pulled back to look at her, a tiny sigh escaped her and she leaned towards him, her arm curling around his neck.
“Do you really love me, Evelyn?”
She nodded, her eyes heavy with desire, her lips red and open, ready for his kiss.
“Do you want to be with me again, like before?” His cheeks flushed as he asked the question and he mused for a moment at his own bashfulness. He realised at that moment that he wanted her to want him too; he wanted her to long for him as he had longed for her and he needed her to love him.
“More than anything, Nate,” she placed a hand over heart in a gesture of sincerity.
Nate stood, leaned over and scooped the woman he loved into his arms then carried her upstairs to the bedroom he’d designed with her in mind and lay her down on the bed he’d carved with her image held deep in his heart.