Friday, August 7, 2015

Hercules Research - Labors of Love

I've been working on writing my next book - Labors of Love - a series of stories following the turbulent affairs of Hercules. And, while doing some research, I found along the way some very interesting insights into who and what Hercules was into. My highlights are outlined below. Read on and enjoy!

1. Did you know there is a band called "Hercules & Love Affair"? I didn't. But try googling about Hercules, the man of myth, and any of his many love affairs. This group shows up first and foremost every time. Not really related to the original topic, but I felt it was a cool insight into the topic of my next book.

Here is the link to their website:
And a video from YouTube:

2. Hercules was originally married to Megara - though it appears she was more of a prize than a willing bride. And as to the number of his and her children, well, there may have been three or eight or any number in between. Oh, and apparently, though not certainly, he killed her and their children in a fit of drunken rage which may or may not have just been Hera having some fun with her husband's newest illegitimate son.

3. His other "wives" - both of which count as legally as Megara in whatever sense she counts as a willing choice - were Omphale and Deianira. He was beholden to Omphale because she won his service in an auction. Why was he auctioned? Well, he killed Iphitus, the son of Eurytus, from whom he "stole" Iole, another young girl he may have had sex with or whom he was going to give to his son (maybe Deianira's child, but the timeline is all wrong) as a bride. Either way, the death of the young man lead to Hercules consulting an Oracle which told him to auction himself as slave for three years. Omphale, a queen, won.

It is my sincere opinion Hercules wasn't so much her household slave as "sex" slave. A situation, I cover quite in depth in my book.

4. Now as to Deianira, well, he won her, too. So much for finding willing, true love brides.

Then again, perhaps these wifely situations explain why he has many more interactions of a sexual nature with young men - related and not.

5. Iolaus was Hercules' nephew, charioteer, and travelling companion. He was also popularly, to the ancient Greeks, viewed as one of Hercules' lovers. Perhaps, his lognest running relationship. There were numerous temples built in his name. The most famous one was in Thebes, a mecca for male couples to express their love and leave vows.

6. Hylas was a young man Hercules met after all his other famous labors, even taking him along on the Argo as one of the Argonauts. He eventually dies because of some naughty nymphs.

Now, I can't say for sure, but if you notice the close spellings of Hylas and Hyllus (Hercules' son), I'm a little curious as to whether or not Hyllus was named after Hercules' lover. That's a twist, huh? Deianira would be so proud.

What about after death?

7. Hebe, his Zeus given wife, after he died and went to Olympus may have been the closest he came to finding true love. I'd like to think he finally find the right one with her, but Ganymede was, of course, just down the hall...

So, what say you all. Boy oh boy, did Disney get Hercules all wrong. However, I have to admit I would have loved for Hercules to be the first bisexual Disney "princess." Now, that would have been awesome!

Friday, July 31, 2015

A Hundred Days of Night - Web Comic on Persephone & Hades

Oh, look at what I have just stumbled upon!

(Web Comic)

A Hundred Days of Night (100DoN) © 2013-2014 by Anastasia Symeonidou and Mariló Delgado. All rights reserved.

Oh, and they have good stuff to buy... I am greatly enjoying the comic, though I've only just begun. Can't wait to read so much more! This is great!

Friday, July 24, 2015

My First Author Chat!

So, last night I got a chance to participate in my first Author Chat as part of the Divine Desire release party. Just a smidgen of the transcript is below. Can you tell I was nervous? Because trust me, I was. I was, in fact, terrified I was going to screw this up bad. I am not so good with impromptu conversation - online or in real life.

D.M. Atkins
You can private message if you prefer. So, Elly, you ready?

Elly Green
Yes, I am am. And just as a precursor to anything I might do wrong, this is my first Author Chat! I am very excited for the chance to participate.

Elly Green
My story, the first, but hopefully not the last with Forbidden Fiction, is "Scylla's Pool."

Siol na Tine
I haven't gotten to read Scylla's Pool yet

Elly Green
It takes a different look at the monsters of ancient Greek lore.

Lon Sarver
It's fun.

Lon Sarver
Unfortunately, it was one of those where we started with a wealth of detail, and had to trim back to fit out publication needs.

Siol na Tine
Did you give the monsters humanoid bodies or...?

Elly Green
Yes, well my faults have always run toward the verbose...

Lon Sarver
We're used to that at FFP

Siol na Tine
Authors? Verbose?!

Siol na Tine

Elly Green
No, I keep pretty close to the original myth, but instead of dealing with the Scylla of the Odyssey and Aeneid, I worked from the Scylla before then. The one Galucus loved.

Elly Green
I love the ancient myths, but hate the dumbing down of most. I figured my place in the world would be to recreate the lost eroticism that the ancients definitely would have been all over.

D.M. Atkins
So, ready for a peak?

Annabeth Leong

Elly Green
Oh, yes, please!

D.M. Atkins
“Lover, is that you?” Her dulcet tones struck his heart and plucked it like a harp. Closing his eyes, he savored the harmony of the sea mistress’s words. A whiff of the scent of her sun-warmed skin flitted across his nostrils and he groaned. He had missed her so much.

D.M. Atkins
“Yes, I’ve returned,” he said softly, standing. “With gifts.” He stepped inside the cave and Scylla’s giddy grin greeted him as she rushed forward. Her honey-colored curls swung around her shoulders. Naked and unashamed, the nereid was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid sight on. “Oh, Scylla, you take my breath away.” He sighed as his hungry gaze took her in. His heart skipped a beat.

D.M. Atkins
Love. It had to be love.

D.M. Atkins
“Where? Where do you have them hidden?” Scylla used her fingers to search within his limited clothes for her promised gifts. Reaching the border of his tunic, she dipped her fingertips under the hem. His breath caught in his throat and his vision narrowed, completely focused on the beauty kneeled before him. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she flashed her long lashes.

What I can tell you all is that if you all are ever asked to participate in an Author Chat be very glad if you have some wonderful moderators. D.M. Atkins made me feel very welcome, got me involved, gave me a quick run down of what was expected and was incredibly supportive of the whole endeavor. It made everything so less scary.

All in all, I am loving the chance to work with Forbidden Fiction and will definitely look into writing more for and with them.

So, folks, tell me... Ever had to do this? Chat? What was your experience? Any advice for the next time?

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Divine Desires Anthology Release Party!

Come celebrate a divine collection of erotic stories of gods and goddesses.

The Divine Desire anthology is available for sale now and we will be hosting a chat with some of the contributing authors and editors in our Release Party chat on 

Thursday, July 23, 7-10 EST.

I'll be there! Come talk with me!

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Now Available! Divine Desire, edited by Lon Sarver

Forbidden Fiction's newest anthology, including these forbidden fantasies:

Crossed Rose by D.M. Atkins
Scylla's Pool by Elly Green
Tomb Brides by Konrad Hartmann
Hera's Punishment by Natasha Niel
In the Death of Winter by Annabeth Leong
Gods Among Men by Jacqueline Broker
Consoling Psyche by James L. Wolf
Maman Brigitte by Slave Nano
Fools Rush In by Elizabeth A. Schechter
Hunting Artemis by Annabeth Leong

There’s a reason people often cry, “Oh, God,” in the throes of passion. God is the only concept big enough to hold all the pleasure they’re feeling; pleasure that is as close to beatific grace as any mortal comes.

This collection explores the connection between sex and divinity, the mix of temporal and transcendent passions. These ten stories of erotic encounters with the divine invite the reader to witness mortals who crave an immortal touch, deities whose anger with one another is matched only by their lust for one another, and the fate of those tempted by gods of the grave.

Rise beyond the limits of mere mortality, and partake of Divine Desire.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Friday, June 5, 2015

Bacchanalia... or as we now call it - Beach Week! Kindle Deals

Starting today, June 5th, until Sunday, June 7th, three of my Amazon ebooks will be available for free! Stock up your Kindle for the beach season for nothing!

Happy loose morals, orgies, and drinking games! Please, by the gods, enjoy yourselves!

p.s. Stay safe!

Thursday, June 4, 2015

What Should I Read Next?

Wondering what to read next this summer?

Easiest Way to Find What Book You Should Read Next - article
What Should I Read Next - app

I recently found this through Facebook friends. Can't be sure it works perfectly, but after entering my most recent book finished "Eternal Prey" by Nina Bangs, here's what it spit out for me...

Laurell K Hamilton - Mistral's Kiss: A Meredith Gentry Novel

Perhaps I should give it a chance.

Friday, May 29, 2015

An Erotic Alphabet Soup

"The Erotic Alphabet: A Brief List of Abbreviations"

This is a re-direct to an incredibly useful post from SmutWriters about the abbreviations used in erotica. Being a sort-of newcomer to erotica... I loved to read the stuff but hadn't attempted to write or publish my own until relatively recently... I have to admit, I greatly appreciate them taking the time to detail these "alphabet soups" for all the rest of us. I have had my fair share of being on the wrong side of some of these and totally guessing others wrong.

For example:
BBW = big beautiful woman or beautiful black woman
PI = detective erotica; oops, surprise read!
DubCon = I honestly thought it was a reference to a sex conference like ComicCon
Cuckold = another classier term for cock, seriously a shock when I finally realized what it meant

Oh, and don't get me started on the difference between:

Apparently, the symbolism lies in the order of the masculine and feminine abbreviations and the upper case versus lower case... though I can never remember exactly what the meanings are.

So have at it!

Now you know...

Friday, May 22, 2015

100 Word Erotic Shorts - The Mythology Edition

Here are five just to get you started... please feel free to add your own in the comments. Maybe this will go serial... :)

Typhon and Echidna

Her cries shook the very cavern of our mating. The stalactites shuddered with the strength of her coming. Her sheath quivered and tightened on my tentacle as I moved to withdraw. It glistened in the light of the dying sun.

Her nails dug into the flesh of my back, holding me close. “Not yet, Typhon. Please, not yet.” Her pleas were harsh with the rawness of her throat. It was a sound I loved. It meant I had satisfied her, truly and well mated my wife. No doubt, she would once again grow round with the child. The eyes of half my hundred dragon heads swiveled to settle on her stomach. She was so beautiful when pregnant.

Medusa and Poseidon

Wave after wave of passion coursed over me. His tongue flicked my sensitive bud, his fingers tightened on my nipple, tugging the peak until I gasped and arched into his mouth. He licked a trail down to my slit. Pressing his lips to my folds, he eased his tongue within and tasted my nectar. My body wept for him, because of him, and I coated his mouth and chin with my sweet juice.

Looking into the marble eyes of my goddess, I begged her forgiveness. He was not my choice, but my body was a slave to the sensations he created in me. My nerves ached for more of him, my core a hollow emptiness only he could fill.

Ariadne and Theseus

His kiss reached into my soul and ripped everything I had ever known out and tossed it into the wind. In my mind’s eye I watched the pieces of who I was drift out over the sea.

The pressure of his lips as they moved on mine, the brush and slide of them, igniting a delicious friction which coursed like lightening in my bloodstream. I moaned. I couldn’t help it. My fingers tangled in the long strands of his auburn hair and I tugged him closer to me, opening my mouth under his assault.

In that moment, as his tongue caressed mine, I gave up my family, my home, all of it for him.


The smooth slide of her marble breast was like satin under my touch. I caressed her perfectly carved bosom with all the desire and passion I had heretofore never experienced. Lowering my head, I ran my tongue around and around the peaked nipple. The sweet salt of the finely chiseled rock dug a heartbreaking groan from my chest. I closed my mouth over her cool stone and suckled there like a babe. I flicked her nipple and teased us both. The sensation a punishment and pleasure.

My cock swelled beneath my chiton, tenting the linen fabric. I lifted my hem and clamped my fist over my own hard steel. I stroked as I fed.

Anchises and Aphrodite

Her body danced above mine. Her breasts swayed, her hips lifted and rotated, her long, golden hair swinging with the rhythm of my thrusts. But it was her hands which held my gaze. As she rode my cock, she moved her pale, white arms and slender hands with the grace of a dancer. Fluid and smooth. I sighed.

As she came, squeezing her inner walls along my length and width, the scent of her filled my nostrils and I was awash in her essence with every breath. Briny like the ocean and fragrant as the blooms of the myrtle.

More erotic images than I had ever imagined overwhelmed me. All of them her. I erupted.

Friday, May 15, 2015

Dog Toy or Sex Toy?

This is a fun game!

Here are the rules: Look at the pictures. Try and guess whether what you see is an innocent dog toy or a perverted (hey, no judgement!) sex toy.

Easy, right? Don't be so sure...

I've been busy writing some dirty, out-of-the-box kink for clients on Fiverr and found a whole lot of these fun pictures online while doing some "research" and thought I might share it for those who either don't have dogs or are buried under a rock somewhere.

Anyways, go ahead, play along, then ask your friends. Share the love!

Friday, May 8, 2015

Dinosaur erotica works... will erotic romance?

After recently reading Eternal Pleasure and considering, in the deep recesses of my perverted mind, how exactly a dinosaur would make love to a human, I had a second and more terrifying thought...

What about dinosaurs making love to other dinosaurs... not sex, but love?

This scary thought then got me thinking about those gigantic and bizarre megafauna which came after the dinosaurs. (I love dinos, but somehow mammals seem far more romantic to me than reptiles and lizards.) What about them? Would the people who seem to love purchasing and reading dinosaur erotica find these prehistoric mammals just as exciting and erotic?

And then came the rest of the questions: What if it wasn't just a human and prehistoric mammal out in the world having random and very hot sex, but an actual romance and, dare I say it, true love? Even I had trouble with that concept. So, then, what about two prehistoric mammals meeting and falling in love? Uh, no. I have no idea how to write from the perspective of that... Ok, fine. What about a human who became a prehistoric mammal falling in love with another human who had also become the same prehistoric mammal? Better. At least this seems semi-doable, though I can't imagine how or why this would happen. Finally, this popped into my mind...

Would anyone find a prehistoric mammal erotic romance exciting or engaging if...

A woman, human, suddenly finds herself tossed back in time into the body of a prehistoric mammal, faced to survive this strange and new world with nothing more than some dwindling memories of her previous life and knowledge along to help her.

And what if, when she's at her most vulnerable, she meets another prehistoric mammal (of the same species) and with whom she is surprisingly able to communicate?

What if they fell in love? Could their love be her saving grace?

Well, enough of the questions. I am going to try it!

For the first time in recorded history (as far as my limited research has shown) a prehistoric mammal erotic romance... "Therion Waking." Read it, as I write it, at Wattpad.

(oh, and if you like it, leave a comment... would love the feedback!)

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Just Because


These are erotic films of a sensual and explicit nature.
You have been warned.

And now, for something completely different...

Saturday, May 2, 2015

Free Kindle Books! - May 2, 2015

Always check prices before ordering because they may have changed.

Nocturne has visited me several times, and my village is awash with gossip.

But when he makes me an offer I'd be stupid to refuse, how do I choose between the immortal man or my own life?

So I’m off to a convent, where I find out not everything is as it seems – and rumours abound of a sacrifice to be made on Midwinter’s Eve.

A sacrifice to appease the God of Night…

"Do you remember Cinderella? Yes, well, that twit didn't have to pay rent."

Owner and operator of Bits and Pieces, and resident expert on charms and glamours, Elsa Karr is a witch with a sour frown and a list of things to do as long as Thor's hammer. Top of the list is saving her father's shop from ruin. If she isn't trying to claw her way out of debt, she's arguing with her cat, Fenris, or shoveling carts of cake into her gob. She's not interested in romance or the vampire who rents the flat above her shop. All she wants is a little peace and chocolate--fine, all right! All right! The vampire is kind of screw-all cute. (Curse him.)

The disgraced son and heir of the Wingates House vampire clan and a mad-man to boot, Marshall Ansley spends most of his time working and dodging his mother's phone calls. Marshall is beyond family. He's beyond everyone, actually. Don't be daft, he especially doesn't do...Christmas. But behold, the plague brings an original flavor of annoyance this year when his boss tasks him with acquiring the account of a recluse fey and her upcoming Gothic clothing boutique, Sinister Stitches. That is the ONLY reason he's bothering with his shrewish landlord. No, that's it. No...really. Fine, if you insist, the witch might be a tad bit...all right, she's adorable. (Damn her.)

Scrooge meets Scrooge. Dominant meets Dominant. Tempers...spark. In each other, they may unfold a tale that only comes to pass on the darkest of nights.

Reader Warning: This is a rather twisted retelling of Cinderella and A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Expect an unapologetic, rakish vampire prince and a cake-eating witch (or is she?) with the power to smite him to ash. Enjoy!

Warning: This is a story for ADULTS ONLY! It is definitely NOT for children. This story is a serious work of social criticism that does involve sexual intercourse of the characters and may offend the readers, as it does describe sexual interaction of various kind, including such with mystical animals like Unicorns, that some may find objective.

contains: male and female Unicorns, mild domination

Melody an innocent Girl of 19 years encounters a Unicorn in the deep Forest,
read what erotic discoveries this encounter brings.

Reading sample:

Melody sat on the meadow, the birds where singing and butterflies and bumblebees where buzzing over the glade. She smelled the scent of the flowers and the fresh grass. Her parents did not know, she was here, they wouldn't have allowed her to go alone into the woods. But she was nine-teen and not a child any more, she had been to this place before many times.

She started singing, she was told, that she had a lovely voice, but no men listened to her here. No other men ever came here. She continued singing for a while, then her heart started to beat faster. The Unicorn appeared on the glade, stepping out of the woods.
The seamless white creature walked slowly and shy towards her. Its head moved nervously from one side to the other.

Friday, April 24, 2015

All about Zeus!

Meghan Trainor said it best...

And Zeus agreed.

It really is all about that bass... no matter the age of the woman, her lineage, body size, or even if she was a woman. All Zeus is focused on is that sexy place between a woman or man's legs. He is one horny king of gods. This Friday we are going to take a look at some of the most disturbing and WTF moments of Zeus's affairs with his many lovers.


She was a titan, a woman of great wisdom, and seduced by Zeus. They married and she became pregnant with Athena. Now, having overthrown his own father and seized power AND having heard the horrible prophecies regarding Metis’ second child (a potential overthrow of his father), Zeus got understandable worried. So, he ate Metis. Before this, Zeus didn’t have a lot of common sense. However, after ingesting her, he gained her wisdom making him a little better in the future.

But what about Athena? Well, she gestated inside her mother now inside Zeus. And, when full grown, began shoving and pushing at Zeus’ skull, from the inside, giving him one hell of a headache. It isn’t until Hephaestus offers to help Zeus with an axe strike to the head, that she is born. No word on how long it took her to forgive him for eating her mother…

Another titan, this time of justice and order. She, through Zeus, bore the Fates and the Seasons. We have no idea how or why. You would think she would have been a little leery of marrying Zeus after what happened to her sister.

Yet another titan. I’m beginning to believe Metis was the only one with intelligence in this family. She was the titan of memory. And, believe it or not, she gave birth not to one child or even a few, but to all nine of the Muses with Zeus. She did, however, leave him after all those births so perhaps it just took a while before she realized who and what he really was.

His own sister. The protector of marriage and married women and obviously very dangerous to those women who help men cheat on their wives (ahm… Zeus!). Her marriage to her brother began in strife and continued on in strife.

When he first approached her, she said no, thank you, and he went on his merry way. Sort of. Not thrilled with the reception he was receiving (Hera was smarter than the titans), he turned himself into a cuckoo. Hera, feeling bad for the poor bird, cuddled it against her chest. Zeus resumed his normal self and taking advantage of the situation and surprise factor, he raped her. Hera only married him to hide the shame she felt for the betrayal. Considering how Demeter denied him… it may have been her only recourse.

Proposed, She Said No

Before courting Hera, Zeus attempted to seduce Demeter, his other sister. She denied him and he forced himself upon her. However, unlike Hera, she blamed him and chose to leave the council of the Gods on Olympus. She got pregnant and bore her daughter, Persephone. Later, as Persephone’s father, Zeus gave Hades the go-ahead on snatching his daughter and marrying her. That did not end well, for Persephone, Hades, Demeter, Zeus, or the world at wide.

Gave in to Zeus’ seduction techniques—one can only imagine he got better with the practice and experience—and got pregnant for her effort. However, Hera, who was quickly his next target, after falling for his trick, took revenge on Leto. She denied, as goddess of childbirth (as well as marriage), Leto to bear her growing twins on any place under the sun. Poseidon took pity on Leto and eventually—way after her due date—covered an island (who also happened to be her long lost sister—long story…) with a huge tsunami wave. Thus, the sun didn’t shine.

Leto gave birth first to Artemis. Artemis then helped her mother give birth to Apollo. Both were full grown deities. That was one heck of a gestation period. Poor girl. She should have tried to keep Zeus around for at least the 9 months… then, let him go to marry Hera. Would have ended far sooner.

Oh, and props to Poseidon for helping out…

Other Lovers

Zeus fell in love with and seduced the young priestess of Hera. Because he was already married to Hera at this point, he covered the Earth with clouds. But this sudden fog only made Hera more suspicious, so she arrived on Earth in search of her wayward husband. She followed her gut to her own temple. As she stood on the steps, she heard noises of lovemaking inside. She rushed inside to find… Zeus talking with a beautiful white cow! She wasn’t stupid. Hera knew there was something funny going on so she asked Zeus for the cow as a present. He knew better than to turn her “simple” request down.

She added the cow to her herd of cattle, guarded by the hundred-eyes of Argus. Desperate to save Io, Zeus sent Hermes to retrieve the cow. Faced with the dilemma of Argus, Hermes resorted to playing music and telling stories in order to lull every last one of Argus’ eyes asleep. Then Hermes killed Argus. (Hera honors Argus by taking his eyes and putting them on her bird – the peacock.)

Even though Io was now technically free, Hera wasn’t done punishing her. She sent an immortal gad-fly to torture the poor cow. The cow wandered so far trying to escape the fly that she even met Prometheus, chained to a rock. He told her not to give up. She would eventually be turned back into a human and bear a child. And that, one day, a descendent of her would return to save him, too.

Upon reaching the Nile, at last, Zeus turned her back into a human. She gave birth to a son and many generations later, Hercules was born. One of his final adventures was rescuing Prometheus. Oh, and Io also became an Egyptian goddess… not too bad considering none of this was her fault.

Semele was proof of the saying, “Be careful what you wish for.” She was the only mortal parent of a god and a Theban princess. She was seduced by Zeus, in disguise, got pregnant, and then got tricked by Hera (through Semele’s sisters) into begging Zeus to reveal his true form. When he did, she was so awed by his presence that she caught fire and burned to ash. The immortal part of her son, however, survived.

Zeus, himself, sewed the fetus inside his own thigh and gestated the fetus to term. Thus, Dionysus was born. A full-blood god from a mortal mother and a literal baby-father.

Friday, April 17, 2015

What Kind of Erotica Sells?

What sells?

I can tell you, first, that mythology erotica is not a top seller. I do sell about three to four ebooks a month with a handful more of Amazon Prime shares, but I do not make a good living writing what I love. I love it, though, which is why I still write it. If ever mythology erotica does take off, well then I will be the first to tell you all.

So, if it is not mythology erotica, what the genre or sub-genre is doing best?

This is not an official survey or some gleaned marketing research, all of these observations are my own from what I have seen and read, and ghostwrite.

Just recently, within the last few months, my ghostwriting gigs on Fiverr have really taken off. On average, I am collecting about $200 extra cash a month just from ghost-writing 500-1,000 word love scenes. Which is far more than I make through book sales. And all I can figure is that whatever it is I am writing must be selling and selling well. Otherwise, why would so many of my gig sales be repeat customers who are exceedingly thrilled with my stories. If I was writing bad sex scenes or those not selling, I don't think these folks would be so willing to drop $20 at a time to have me write more and more.

Sure, fools there be in the world from whom their money slowly disappears. But surely not so many I can earn so much extra cash continuously?

What, exactly, then do I get asked to write over and over?


This genre really seems to be taking off. If I had to guess why, my first guess would be Shades of Gray. The world at large, both erotica lovers and the general public have seen how famous this series has become. And it probably doesn't help that the author started off self-publishing. So all those would-be writers in the world see this self-publisher get so far and become so famous and believe it can and will happen to them. And if it does, well why not go the same route.

Recently, I have been asked to compose dominant-submissive scenes nearly 1 to 3. For every six new gigs I receive a week, at least 2 to 3 involve some form of this genre. Mostly, young professional women who meet a successful businessman and enter into a submissive relationship with them in which all manner of degradation, pain, and bondage exists and in which all these young women discover their true selves. I haven't read more than a cursory look at Shades of Gray, but this seems oddly familiar don't you think?

Erotic Couples

I have to say I am excited this is doing so well as a genre. These scenes are likely a couple, whose love blossoms over time, just flat out enjoying one another. They are sexy and romantic. However, what might set these scenes apart from the erotic couplings of most commonplace and old-timey (I'm talking the 70s and 80s here) bodice rippers is the variety of sexual positions and locations I have been asked to incorporate. Lots of doggy-style and weird places. Shower scenes are being common. Although, to anyone who has ever tried shower sex... it isn't nearly all that fun. A little bed-room missionary, but this location and position is definitely falling by the wayside.

And no longer do we have the virgin protagonist. All the ladies I write about nowadays are modern women who love sex and demand good sex from their partners.

My last comment on this genre is that billionaire lovers seem to be favorites. I don't know where all these billionaires are coming from--we are in a recession after all--and why they are all single and handsome, but can I just say I wish I'd found one before I married my husband. Life without the worry of rent and food? How absolutely wonderful!


A genre I struggle with when asked to write it, but nonetheless still comes across my sales pretty often. The women may be shy or confident, but they are big, beautiful women who rejoice in their plus-sized bodies. I must admit, however, that at first I thought BBW meant beautiful black woman. Hell, I think I would have been thrilled with writing this as the race is constantly ignored in mainstream erotica. In fact, I'd love to see more diversity in the erotica genre in general. A lot more.

Finally, I'd like to suggest Kink...

I haven't been asked to write much with this, but that which I have been asked to write covers a wide variety of various kinks and all, or so I've been told, are sadly under-served in the erotica community. So, if you got the balls to write this stuff, do it. You might just fill a niche and do exceedingly well there.

I'd love to hear from you all about what trends you see taking off and what seems to be drifting into the wilderness never to be heard from again.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Scylla's Pool - Now Available!

It's here! It is finally here!

My very first publisher-published short story, not self-published, is now available at Forbidden Fiction.

It is a retelling of the myth of Glaucus, Circe, and Scylla. A love triangle on the Mediterranean sea.

I loved writing the story and absolutely loved working with a real editor. He offered me so much growth, making all my new writings that much stronger. I now think long and hard about my sexual position scenes making sure all the parts are clearly in the proper places and moving in the proper ways. Not to mention, point of view. I had a bit to learn there and am so happy my mistakes were pointed out to me. Good stuff to know and pay attention to. It is nice to have that kind of caring and attention to detail when looking at a story and for that alone I am already considering what to write for them next.

Please feel free to check out this story and leave me a note about what you loved or hated. Reviews are always welcome. It is also available at Smashwords and Goodreads.

Click here for direct link to purchase.


Friday, April 10, 2015

To the Victor (part two)

(part one)

Laying back, her hair mussed and one braid undone on the sun-heated turf, Daphne sighed. A smile played on her lips. The satyr was long-gone. She was laid out, splayed wide. Her arms and legs ached with the effort of the fucking. Her cunt throbbed, but whether with aftershocks of pleasure or from the beating it took, she didn’t care. This is what she was created for. What her being, deep down, craved.

“Shy nymph… please?”

The voice, masculine yet lyrical, surprised her and she moved to sit up. Apollo’s hand touched her shoulder, stilling her movement.

“I am Apollo, a god from Olympus.”

Daphne turned slowly to look over her shoulder. Indeed, he must be a god! The cascading waves of his blonde-tipped hair fell to caress his broad shoulders. His brown eyes were flecked with golden chips, making them glow like bronze. An aquiline nose, strong and wide only emphasized the greater chisel of his high cheekbones and sturdy jaw. Her gaze dropped and even through the unflattering cut of the tunic, she admired his toned waist and thick thighs.

“Daphne,” she answered the unspoken question twitching his lips—strikingly feminine in their fullness.

“Sorry to have startled you.”

“I was just resting. Would you like to lie with me?” Daphne patted the soft grass under his sandals. Her smile struck him like a bolt from Zeus. Her face lit up with the innuendo of her words. She had never had a god before, either in the chase or between her legs. Wondering what he would feel like and winking at him with the thought, her smile grew as he fell to the earth beside her.

“You only have to ask, sweet nymph.” In that moment, Apollo would have done any and everything she asked. “More than my immortal life, I wish to lie with you.”

Stretching a hand out, he ran his fingers across the rise of her breasts and up between the shadow of her collarbone to her pulse point. Toying with her, he circled the sensitive skin with his fingertips then leaned down and did the same with his tongue. Suckling roughly on her tender flesh, he marked her as his. He sat back and passed his gaze over her naked body. She flushed pink under his observation. Placing his hand back on her, he plucked her nerve endings like his lyre and in response, she sang. She hummed. She whimpered. She opened her mouth to scream. Maybe she wouldn’t run this time.

* * * *

Eros watched as Apollo approached Daphne from the clouds, which still hung in the cooling evening sky. Drawing a lead-tipped arrow from his quiver, the youthful god ran his fingers up and down the string of his bow. A replay of the previous night’s feast flashed before his hard eyes.

Apollo, his head thrown back and golden neck arched in mirth, filled the vast room of Dionysus’s palace with his musical laugh. Standing close, pulled up under the larger god’s arm by a firm grip to his shoulder, Eros cringed. Once again, he was teased for his small stature and slender, nearly feminine build. Despite his age, older than the newest generation of Zeus’ children, he still appeared to be pubescent. No hair marred his cheeks or chest. His muscles were the gangly wires of youth, not yet defined like those of Ares or Hephaestus.

“With arms like those, it is no wonder his aim often falls short of the mark,” Apollo taunted, grinning drunkenly down at the minor god.

“Unlike the aim of your sister, the master huntress. How poor a son you must have been to your mother for her to give your sister the skills of a man,” Eros tossed back at the sun-god. A look over to his side, he winked at Artemis. They had an understanding, a long-standing agreement. Neither of them was overly fond of her twin brother and his habit of boasting. Nor his claim of skill in archery. They knew who really held such a honor.

“Oh? You dare to question my manliness?”

“You sing songs, write poetry, and play with the dolphins. Is there really a question?”

Apollo flung Eros across the room at the insult. “You are just a child! Playing with your toys! You have no idea of the work of a real god!”

Eros lifted his head high, thrust his chin forward, and rose to his feet. “I will show you the power I can wield. You wait!”

Rocking back on his heels, Eros smirked. He would show Apollo. Apollo would rue the day he thought to question the elder god’s power. Eros was not the weaker of the two, nor were they equals. Eros would always hold sway over everyone. Even Zeus knew better than to mess with him. The god of love was a force to be reckoned with.

Glancing down at the cloud beneath his sandaled feet, he placed the arrow beside the gold-tipped one. One for hate, one for love. The ripples of a smile danced across his lips. This was going to be fun!

* * * *

The green blades of the soft, fresh spring grass tickled Daphne’s back. Her slender and unblemished fingers tangled in Apollo’s flaxen locks. His curls danced with the movement of his bobbing head between her thighs. A heavy arm draped across her hips, holding her down, keeping her in place. His other hand cupped her mound. Massaging the skin there, he teased her with fleeting touches.

Apollo’s tongue lapped at her folds, up and down the seam, seeking the sweet nectar of her feminine secrets. A finger sifted through her petal-soft curls in search of the delicate nub hidden beneath its hood of flesh. Finding it, he pinched and rubbed. Her back arched and hips thrust forward, threatening to push him off. Gripping her hip hard enough to leave a bruise, he fought to control her reaction. However he had imagined this moment, he was surprised how good she felt pinned under his ministrations. He loved the way she moved. Loved the way she sounded. Loved the unique smell of her approaching climax—like a meadow after a rainstorm. Loved the taste of her filling his mouth. Loved… her? A gold-pointed arrow struck his heart—a perfect shot—and disappeared in a puff of mist.

Blowing his warm breath on her clit, he felt her weaken and sigh in complete surrender. From between her thighs, he spoke. “Honeyed nymph, have you ever been to Olympus?”

“No,” she squeaked. His murmur traced along every quivering fiber of her being and she squirmed.

“Would you like to see Olympus?”

He eased his tongue from between his lips and across the barrier of hers. He groaned as he felt her body yield to his invasion. Stroking deep, as deep as he could, he drew the thick cream of her body’s sap from within. He needed more. So did she.

“With you?” The whisper hung on the edge of her conscience.

“Of course.” He grinned. She’d be welcome with him anywhere.

Replacing his finger with his mouth, he suckled on her aching nubbin and thrust two fingers into her moist, heated core.



Plunging the digits in to the knuckle and curving them to caress the spongy anterior of her sheath, he gave up his hold on her hips and grabbed her ass. He lifted her high with one hand to kneel under her body. Bracing her slight weight on her neck and shoulders, his mouth and fingers worked their magic.

He had spoken of his home… and her… together. Her, a nymph. Him, a god! Dear gods!

She melted under her thoughts. Begging her divine lover for what she desired, Daphne used her body instead words. He played her body like an instrument. In moments, she was lost in a field of gently waving, verdant ferns. She stood on the edge of sanity. Daphne had never felt like this before. A pleasure beyond anything she had ever known hung just out of reach. Love.

She never felt the lead-tipped arrow pierce her heart or heard the sinister laugh of the god of love as he spirited away. All she felt was sick. A sudden, stomach-roiling swelling of dread coursed through her veins with each pump of her heart. Bile rose in her throat. Her head pounded, severe pain making her squint against the intensity of Apollo’s golden skin. Raising her fisted hands, she pounded on his hands. Nails dug into the yielding flesh of his wrist. Delirious, he ignored the minimal pain and continued to feast on her now unwilling garden.

“God…” she whispered, upper lip curled in disgust.

Pulling away from her eden, her dew dripping from his chin, he lifted his eyes to hers. “You called?” The pain, rising anger, and open hatred in her gaze froze him to the core. “Darling nymph?”

“Release me.”

Apollo did as she ordered, setting her softly on the cooled ground. A crease across the bridge of his nose spoke to his confusion. The sign of his own arousal at their previous actions stood accusingly at her, nodding its approval of her—until now—willingness. Her body recoiled at the implication. Moving as fast as she could, she crawled backwards, putting distance between her and the god.


“Get away from me!” Her yell was shocking in the calm evening. Bird song and the hum of insects fell silent at the rage in her tone. Pushing herself to her feet, the whites of her eyes glowed in the dimming light. A shake of her head and she spun on her toes and disappeared into the darkening forest.

“Zeus’s balls!” And Apollo took off after the fleeing dryad. “You want a chase? I will give you a chase.” He was laughing beneath his heavy gasping as he attempted to keep Daphne within sight. His strides, even as a god, were no match for her fleetness. She easily avoided capture.

Dodging around giant oaks and shadowy pines, she kept just out of reach. Her feet fell upon the mossy floor of her wooded domain. Coming to the stream of her friend and lover, she leaped it as gracefully as a doe. Apollo paused in his pursuit to admire her lithe beauty. She was an amazing creature. Her voice alone held him entranced—whether in mirth or wrath. The fact that her body, voluptuous in the right places and toned in the rest, was so beguiling only made his heart ache for her all the more. Placing a hand over his heart, he ducked his head and closed his eyes.

“Not love, I cannot be in love…” he mouthed, with the same words echoing in his mind. The sound deafened his arguments. Gods did not fall in love. Lust, just lust. Lust was all they had, wasn’t it? Apollo had never been so unsure.

As her footfalls faded away on the far side of the stream, he jumped back into action, choosing to splash through the stream instead of hurdling it, hoping the water would cool his sore feet. The soothing liquid was a temporary relief. In haste, he rejoined the unrelenting chase.

Daphne ran as fast as she was able, plenty fast to avoid the amorous embraces of a clumsy, aroused satyr, but a god was a different being altogether. A quick glance over her shoulder as she whipped around an oak and she could see Apollo’s golden radiance in the distance. He was keeping pace with her, gaining even. Placing a hand against the rough bark of another tree, she paused in her flight to survey her surroundings. She was nearing the edge of the forest where her friend’s stream swelled and churned, mixing with her own father’s river. From this distance, though, she struggled to make out the roar of his turbulent flow. She would need to get closer before pleading for his help.

Pushing away from the tree, the nymph shuddered. She had to make it to her father’s shores. The thought of Apollo between her legs again, with either his tongue or cock, had her stomach threatening to heave. Her legs wobbled at just the memory of what he’d been doing. Dropping a hand to her curls, she willed herself to forget.

“Daphne!” His yell startled her into movement. She had dawdled too long. He was close. “Wait!” She didn’t.

Sprinting, she moved in a blur. Apollo cursed. He lunged, reaching out. His fingers touched the feathery strands of her hair as she streamed away from him once again. So close.

The straining rhythm of his breathing filled her ears and her mind. He was right behind her. She could feel the warmth of his sun-darkened skin. Could sense his eyes staring at her, following her every zig between the trees and over the fallen limbs. Daphne could feel his desire, his need emanating from his every pore and tracking her every move. Her skin crawled at the sensation.

Closer and closer. Apollo would have laughed in joy if he’d had the air. She was beginning to weary. Soon, she would be his at last!

When the sound of her father’s swift-moving water greeted her, she nearly fell to the earth and wept.

“Father, river Ladon, hear my prayer!” she began, “Your daughter, Daphne, seeks your aid.” She fought for the right words, her mind spinning with the knowledge that Apollo was within reach, dangerously close, and from the exertion of her escape. “Help me flee the unchaste clasp of this god! I do not welcome his embrace!”

* * * *

Ladon, from beneath his roiling waves, heard his daughter’s plea. The fear in her voice stirred his anger. Rising from the depths, he was held back by a fist around his wrist. The lord of gods and king of men, Zeus, appeared in the water beside him.

“The Fates have spoken, Ladon. We are all theirs to weave to and fro as they see fit. This was ordained. She is to be his. Do not let her get away.”

Ladon nodded. He was not in a position to deny his lord. Not even for his daughter.

* * * *

Daphne ran along the bank of her father’s river, her worried eyes begging the water for a sign. Suddenly, she saw a whirlpool form ahead of her, slowing the flow of the river. She lowered her eyes in gratitude.

“I am sorry, daughter.”

Ladon emerged from the river and clapped his giant hands in the air. A fine mist surrounded him. Daphne sprinted through the vapor. The droplets of moisture clung to her skin. Watching his daughter, he noticed her pupils widen and her head jerk up. She felt the magic work on her instantly.

“No!” Daphne screamed. The birds in the branches high above screeched and fluttered away in a shower of feathers and broken twigs.

Apollo froze.

A dense numbness seized Daphne’s limbs, beginning at her feet and climbing higher with every effort she made to continue her flight. Her skin, so pure, so flawless, ripped apart and subtle imprinting marred her flesh. A thin bark molded her curves. Her toes stretched toward earth again, this time seeking her mother’s nutrients. Up her legs, the transformation rose. The bark closed over her feminine garden, her leafy eden taking on its true form. A thick moss, bright and verdant, spread down to the soft ground below.

What was happening to her? She was his. His love. He wanted her. Beneath him, clamped around him, in his arms. And she wanted him. He knew she had. Her body had proclaimed its truth. He walked around Daphne, facing her, and watched her change. His brows knit in concern and confusion.

Her fingers grew and hardened. Her spine shifted and straightened, pulling her taller. Panting with shallow breaths, tears tumbled from her eyes, turning to sap as they rolled down her roughened cheeks. She stared into the face of her enemy. His smile, his love, her worst nightmare and the last vision she was going to ever see. Life wasn’t fair.

Caressing the hard smoothness of the metamorphosing nymph, Apollo admired her beauty, even now. If he could not have her as a nymph and lover, he would still have her this way. Under his fingers, wherever he touched, he felt her body yield to fate. Yield to him. Her body never lied.

Her breasts rose perky and youthful with her final breath, her life finally taken from her and given to another.

Rising onto his toes, the sun god stroked down the thinly veined, dark green and glossy leaves that surrounded her once-immortal face. The echo of her perfect features was faintly etched in the canopy of waving branches. He stepped in close and wrapped his arms around his one true love. A glimmer of her warm life force was still there and he soaked it in. Closing his eyes, he remembered her emerald-colored irises and her sweet, melodic laughter. He sighed. Gone, but never forgotten.

Stepping back, he extended his hand and snatched a handful of her leaves from her limb-like branches. He snapped off a longer twig, green and flexible. With deft fingers, he wove the leaves along the length of the twig and curled it around, fastening the ends together. He placed the crown of laurel on his blonde, wavy locks. Pressing a kiss to her trunk, he turned and walked away.

“You will always be mine, Daphne. You will see Olympus, as I promised, and I will love you for eternity.”

Her only answer was the rustling of the leaves in the breeze. He took it for assent.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Cover Reveal for Scylla's Pool

As you may have read in an earlier post, one of my short stories got picked up for part of an anthology with Forbidden Fiction, a sub-company of Fantastic Fiction Publishing. It is being sold independently and as a part of the larger anthology.

Here is the cover reveal:

Perhaps not the best cover ever, but I am happy with it and like its surreal and sexy vibe.

I am very happy about this chance and if the story does well, I am definitely going to look into writing some more short stories for them. They were fun and good people to work with during the editorial and proofreading parts of publishing.

I received the ebook proof just the other day and except for one minor error in a quote's placement, it looks so awesome. Can't wait until April 14th!

Friday, April 3, 2015

Sorry... But Here's a New Story!

I have to apologize for the break in posts... a lot started happening in my day to day life and I got bogged down in reality for a while.

But, I am back. Truly.

I am here again and just to prove that I haven't completely forgotten you all here is part one of a story I wrote about the Daphne and Apollo myth. I had submitted this to an anthology and it got denied - "wasn't what they were looking for."

However, don't feel too bad, another story I submitted to another anthology (Forbidden Fiction) was accepted and after months of editing, will finally be released April 14th. As soon as I have more information, I will pass it along. I am very excited about this opportunity and hope to publish more with the company in the near future. They are a great bunch of people to work with.

Benedetto Luto's Apollo and Daphne

To The Victor

The emerald irises of her eyes rolled back into her head at the sensation of his cock thrusting past her slick petals. She had never been so filled. Her ivy-bound braids hung in long ropes, swaying side to side with each pump of the satyr’s coarse-haired thighs. He worked his masculine rod within her tight walls, deeper and deeper with each plunge. His thick, yet surprisingly gentle thumb rested perched on her clit. With each thrust up into her, he pinched and flicked her nub. His gaze widened at the sight of her body undulating under his ministrations.

Sitting atop his lap, she bounced, her hands gripping his human shoulders in an effort to lift herself from his engorged cock before succumbing to the need and falling back down to impale her sheath on his staff.

Slamming back down, taking his whole length within her core, she bent to bathe his small, peaked nipple with her tongue. The human half of the forest creature was nearly as hairy as his caprine half and she had to sift through the dense hair to reach what she wanted. His skin tasted like the sap of the pine trees that stood proud on the rise of the mountain. The difference between the flavor of his human half and animal half always surprised the nymph. Moments earlier she had had his red and raging erect flesh between her pink lips and on her sweet tongue. Then, he had tasted of raw, barely controlled lust and the heavy musk of an aroused buck.

The satyr’s lusty, rumbling bleat of pure goat from her mouth’s labor made her womb flutter and the passion build. The noises of their coupling filled the immediate area, masking the usual sounds of chirping birds and humming insects. She shimmied on his groin, using her tight inner folds to massage and milk her captor’s cock. They were both close to climaxing. Both worked for their own conclusion, oblivious to the needs or wants of the other. This was not a mutual fucking. This was primal. Natural.

Daphne had been hiding and running from the satyr’s raging desire for days. He had stumbled upon her snoozing in the shade of her tree, drawn by the scent of her recent orgasm. Beside her rested her friend, a naiad of the local stream that trickled through this forest. Both were sleeping, snoring slightly, wrapped around each other in a tangle of feminine limbs. Daphne’s leafy eden glistened with her honeyed dew. Her lover’s moist finger still rested on her sensitive bud, a barely-there caress. The chests of both nymphs heaved with the aftershocks of their recent orgasms.

The satyr’s nostrils flared at his luck. His upper lip curled under his nose, his jaw spasmed and drool seeped from the corner of his mouth. The scent of a doe in heat, no matter the species, had him hard in moments. Two in heat and he was primed twice as fast. Urine spurted from his erect staff, wetting the bristly hair of his upper groin. He was unable to control the beastly reaction, signaling his readiness and masculine potency.

His short tail wagged and he stomped a hooved foot. He craved both, wanted both. But, he was alone. His brethren were elsewhere, drawn by the flutes and drums of Dionysus in a far-off grove. He had forgone the god’s invitation to an orgy. He was not in the mood to share. Not this time. Not ever, if he was honest with himself. Deciding that the naiad was the far slipperier of the two—they were an inherently shy and reclusive race—he had grabbed her first.

Wrapping his meaty arms around her middle, he had hauled her to him and pinned her beneath his hairy, smelly bulk. Grasping her by the ankles, he had lifted and spread her legs wide. He lowered his mouth to her dewy breast and suckled. The naiad’s eyes flew open, the round O of her mouth following.

Daphne had taken the opportunity to flee, awakened by her lover’s shriek. A shriek that quickly became the cooing of a woman in passion as the naiad succumbed to the natural order of the woods. With a masterful push of his already ready cock into her dripping sheath, she relented to his masculine mastery. Once caught, a nymph, whether dryad or naiad, desired only the taking of her welcoming cunt. The thrill was in the chase, the game of hide-and-seek that occupied the satyr and nymph’s immortal lives.

The satyr ravished the naiad quickly and left her to rest in the bloom of her second orgasm, then had taken off with the roar of a horny buck. Daphne doubled the length of her strides and laughed, sending the melodious sounds of her delight to the heavens above. She was the fleetest of the dryads. They would have a grand time as he tried to keep up, reach, and capture the nymph.

* * * * 

Reclining on the marble bench in his garden, Apollo was surrounded by all the heavily-scented flowers of the world. He held his lyre in one hand with the other clasped around his erect cock. His golden eyes were closed against the warmth of Helios’s rays. Singing a seductive melody, he suddenly quieted mid tune. The whispering hum of the heavenly song died on a non-existent breeze. Tilting his head at the light, melodic, soothing laugh of a nymph—a sound he had never before heard and now was unable to forget—he placed his instrument in the mossy grass.

He continued to stroke the long length of his golden-skinned staff. Quickening his pace and tightening his grip, he brought himself to an abrupt climax, letting his milky seed spurt into the air and fall in a cascade to the ground. Sitting up, he swung his tanned legs, long and toned, to the ground. Sliding his feet into his sandals, he reached down to tie the strands, interlocking the thongs of leather up his calves.

Standing, he sighed heavily. Apollo straightened his white thigh-length tunic and adjusted the gold-braided belt. Attired properly, he strode to the edge of the garden and peeked down through the clouds, which seemed to hang interminably around the peak of Olympus, hiding the immortal kingdom from the mortal gazes of Hellas’s inhabitants.

He searched the hills and valleys stretched out before his bronze-speckled eyes. Laugh again, my sweet nymph, summon me from Olympus to your side, he begged the land below.

On the edge of a white-yellow field of softly waving grain, where the verdant, dense forest met, ran a ditch of irrigated water surrounded by a tangle of berry-brambles and thorn hedges. At that exact moment, as Apollo’s gaze slipped along the seam of civilization and wildness, Daphne emerged, leaping gracefully across the ditch. Like a deer, her long, tanned legs allowed her an ease of flight not common to lesser mammals. Falling to her hands and knees she wiggled beneath the clinging brambles and slowed to glance over her shoulder.

The satyr was panting heavily, his furred body drenched with sweat, the hair plastered to his muscular, bestial form. Apollo’s upper lip rose in a sneer. Even from here, he could smell the stench of the horny goat-man. With a muddy splash, the creature fell into the ditch and clawed its way back out with the stubs of a human male’s fingers. Instead of yielding to the tangled thorns, it crashed through them, pulling the strands of berry-laden branches along with it. Smears of juice from ripe red berries tattooed his chest and arms.

Daphne watched, letting another laugh flow from between her perfect, lush lips. Reversing direction, she easily climbed the thorny brambles and disappeared back beneath the lavish foliage of the woods. The satyr bellowed and followed. The chase would not last much longer.

* * * * 

Apollo alighted on the earth, feeling the warmth and power of his grandmother Gaia pulse and thrive beneath his sandaled feet. Following the sounds of the crude and ungainly satyr as he trampled through forest’s olive and avocado-colored undergrowth, a complement to Apollo’s own golden and bronze-colored skin, he tracked his nymph easily.

When suddenly the satyr’s rampage hushed only to be replaced by the squeal of a young woman caught by surprise, Apollo grinned. At last, she was in reach. He slowed his pace, eyes searching the ground for the cloven marks of the satyr’s passing. Even without his sister, Artemis’s, training, this was an easy trail to follow. Tracking the path, he sidled up to an expansive meadow. Blooms, not unlike the ones back in his garden, filled the verdurous glen. In the middle of the field, the dark form of the goat-man stood solitary like a statue, motionless as though frozen in time. There was no immediate sign of the nymph. Apollo hesitated. He should go. No doubt, she was long gone from here now.

But then a snort of muffled glee reached his ears. Squinting, he stepped out from under a leafy bough and into the bright sunlight of Helios’s chariot. Keeping close to the edge of the meadow, he walked around the figure of the satyr. There, in the softness of the spring grass, the nymph squatted on her knees. One slender hand, like a tender branch of new growth, wrapped around the satyr’s meaty rod. The other disappeared in the mossy covering of the dryad’s private eden. Her maidenly lips were stretched wide as she took as much of the satyr’s cock as she could.

Apollo’s eyes were transfixed on the scene laid out before him. He could almost imagine the nymph’s tongue as it licked the underside of the plunging staff. The suction of her mouth, the heat, the moisture. He could almost smell the freshness, like a forest after a spring rain, of the nymph’s approaching climax. Could almost hear the growling of the rutting goat-man in his own chest. Dropping a hand to the hem of his tunic, he lifted the woven linen away from his now stiff cock and stroked himself. He drew out the final ecstasy of his own climax as he witnessed the nymph release the satyr.

Lifting her willowy form by the arms, the satyr tossed her easily to the ground and flipped her over. Slapping one giant hand on the center of her back to push her down while the other hand grasped her hip and pulled her up to meet his thrust, he drove his staff as deep as possible into the nymph. Riding her like the animal he truly was, he claimed Daphne.

Apollo basked in sight, the weariness and satisfaction of his own coming easing him down to the grass. Propped on one elbow, he watched. He enjoyed. Never before had he admired the art of animalistic fucking. Now, he had to admit there was a certain freedom in the action, a certain symmetry, a certain perfection to the act. The satyr didn’t come, grunting or bleating, atop the nymph, though she cried out her finish multiple times to the wonderment of Apollo. He was a beast. Pulling out, feeling the slick slide of his cock as her folds clutched at and trembled along it, he tossed her to her side. She wiped sweat-soaked tendrils from her forehead with a shaking hand. Smiling through half-closed lids, she climbed onto the satyr’s lap—spread wide and eager—to be filled and taken again roughly in the meadow. Neither was done yet.

... stay turned for more!

Friday, January 23, 2015

Book Reviews - Catching Up!

I have been neglecting my review readers... here are a whole bunch of my reviews on recently read works. Sorry for the delay. It has definitely been a while.

First up, Nicholas (The Lords of Satyr #1) by Elizabeth Amber. This is the first book in a series about the same family of satyr's who basically masquerade as humans, but change at the full moon into their "true" selves.

My review:

The premise is strong.

I liked that although there was almost no "foreplay" of the relationship before they were married, the couple still grew throughout the story, making the sex that much better. The sexual acts were varied and very detailed. I was, however, bothered by the sex acts performed with his brothers. The story makes this work, but I still felt icky.

Also, the side story with her aunt and the King's premise of "danger" had me confused from the get-go. I don't feel the side stories got the play they needed to be completely fleshed out - felt a little pushed.

As long as you don't get too hung up on the double penises and "licking" appendage, this is a delightful, steamy, raunchy as hell read.

P.S. I am already reading the second in the series and it is just as good as the first one.

And now there is the Surprise Passion Series Box Set by Mia Fox aka Lola Bond. 

Here is my review:

The stories are creative and unusual, but the author's style - repetitive and amateurish - and the poor editing take away from what could have been a very nice collection.

The first two stories, about the Yeti were adorable, and hysterical. I laughed and cried (tears of joy) and read the stories in one sitting. The sex was well-written but did kind of leave off. Ms. Bond/Fox writes better foreplay than she does the intercourse.

The second story, about the merman, was by far the best. Seriously, she should have ended the collection with this story. It was a true joy to read. I found myself liking the MC, loving the little boy, and enjoying the teasing of the merman. The sex was better, too, though I kind of wish she'd had them take a ride atop the waves... oh, the pleasurable pulse... such a great idea she passed right by.

The third story was okay. Not her best, though it did have the best plot. I love centaurs and found this story shockingly disappointing in its sex scenes and emotional connection. It was akin to watching a poorly made Sci-Fi movie.

Not sure the series is worth the price, but it was an okay time killer during the hot summer afternoon.

Finally, I offer my review of Gods Behaving Badly by Marie Phillips.

Started hot and strong, fell into mediocrity and ended expectedly. I had high hopes in the first few chapters. Though the story was good, it wasn't the best and definitely became harder to keep reading as it went on. The story was predictable. However, with all that said, the writing style was awesome and very engaging. The plot just needs tweaking to remain intriguing.

For a list of all my reviews, feel free to visit my Goodreads page.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Fun YouTube Video Finds

YouTube Can Be Fun and Educational...

Well, sort of... check these out!

Sex God Pan

Sexiest Mythology Creatures

And then just for fun...

Centaur Transformation Hypnosis

Personally, if I'm going to transform into a centaur, I'm going to be her...

and mate with him...