Sunday, July 21, 2019

Sunday Selection

Chapter 4 next week!

Chapter 3

My hands were shaking with excitement as I began to lower his jeans over his lean hips and the enticing swell of his taut buttocks. I dropped to my knees, which put my face directly in front of his throbbing cock. Joe stepped out of his shoes and kicked them away when I reached his ankles, and did the same thing with his jeans. I inhaled deeply, taking in the arousing scent of his sex, wondering why I was fighting the urge to bury my face against him. I listened to Joe’s heavy breathing for a few seconds before doing what we both wanted. Placing my hands upon his muscular thighs I leaned forward, slowly swallowing his huge, hot cock.

He groaned and I felt his thighs quiver before he braced himself. My taste buds exploded with delight when I ran my tongue over the ridges and swollen veins lining his shaft. His hands fell to my head, and as if he couldn’t help it, he began to move his hips. “Aaaaaaaaaaagh!” He groaned long and deep. “This feels so fucking good, baby.” His fingers threaded through my hair. “But I want you to feel good, too.”

He pumped his cock into my mouth several times, so I was surprised when he pulled me to my feet. With his hands still clenched in my hair Joe jerked me against him and ground his mouth down on mine. It was the match that started the firestorm, and I knew there was no going back. Our control had reached its limits. Somehow, we managed to rid ourselves of the rest of our clothes while covering the flesh we exposed with passionate caresses, kisses, and love bites. My hands discovered the sculptured, smooth like granite of his magnificent form. Joe was in tip-top condition.

All at once, he fell back upon the bed, taking me with him. I landed on top and we kissed for several seconds before I felt his hands at my waist. With little effort, Joe lifted me and swung me around. The new position left no doubts as to what we were about to do. As I lowered my mouth once more onto his cock, I felt his tongue against my clit. I arched farther into his mouth with unrestrained reaction, moaning loudly.

Oh, God! I’d never felt anything as good as Joe’s mouth and tongue on me. As I greedily lapped, tongued, and sucked on his dick, I was intensely aware of what his mouth was doing to me. He wasn’t just focusing on my clit; he was making sure no part of my pussy went untouched, and he was very thorough. He took his time, first kissing my plump, shaven mound, and then moving onto the hood of my clit, and then the most sensitive part of my sex, the clit. He sucked on it hungrily before moving on to my labia. Finally, I felt his hands clench the cheeks of my ass.

He locked his mouth onto my pussy and stuck his tongue into my channel. By that point I’d become a moaning, writhing mass against him. Our hips were moving in unison as we strived for the same pleasure and release. I moved my mouth up and down his rigid cock, pausing occasionally to lick his testicles. The salty warmth of his pre-cum satisfied my taste buds yet fueled the needs of my body into a lustful craze. The thought of swallowing Joe’s cum caused me to lose complete control. I climaxed hard into his hot mouth.

I couldn’t make up my mind what to concentrate on, the ecstasy holding me captive or the desire to make Joe come. Both drove me to depths I’d not reached before. The convulsive movements of my hips against his mouth as he sucked my juices gave longevity to my orgasm. Then I felt his body grow taut beneath me seconds before he plunged into my mouth one last time.

He twisted his face free of my pussy, and I could hear him sucking in air. “Fuck! Aaaaaaagh!” He groaned, spewing a copious amount of cum down my throat. “Fuck, Lana…” Gradually he sank deeper into the bed, and his deflated cock slipped out of my mouth. I collapsed against him, enjoying the pleasant calm after the storm and trying to catch my breath. “You’ve drained me.”

In spite of his heavy breathing, I could detect the humor in his tone, and slight surprise. I smiled, feeling like I’d accomplished something incredible. Only Joe was the victorious one. I’d always had a hard time coming by oral stimulation, and usually faked it so the guy wouldn’t feel inadequate. With Joe, it had been easy. For the first time I’d been able to let myself enjoy the erotic act of oral sex.

“Are you still breathing?”

A chuckle escaped me. “Yes. I’m just thinking, and I’m exhausted, too.”

“This isn’t a time for thinking, Lana.” His hand on my arm encouraged me to move until he settled me against his chest. I was mildly astonished, because I would never have pegged Joe for someone who liked to cuddle. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. “What are you smiling at?” he asked me.

 “You strike me as a slam, bam, thank you ma’am kind of guy.”

“We’re still in the foreplay stage,” was his quick comeback.

“That was foreplay?”

His deep laughter rumbled through his chest, making it vibrate beneath my hand. “It isn’t over until my cock is buried so deep inside your sweet cunt that you’ll think it’s going home with you.” My mouth fell open. “I brought you here to fuck you, baby, and I intend to do it as many times and as many ways as I can.”

“Wow,” I whispered in awe, trying not to smile. “You must be a god.”

“No.” He kissed me and then rolled, pinning me beneath him. “Just an ordinary man with a healthy appetite.” His mouth covered mine again, forcing me deeper into the bed. Arousal blossomed inside me at a rapid rate. “I wasn’t kidding about what I said earlier, Lana. Something about you intrigued me the first time I saw you walk into Big Dicks. I knew I had to have you.”

“Maybe you wanted to see what it would be like with an older woman.”

Joe shook his head, amusement swimming in his eyes. “I’ve slept with a few women throughout the years, and you’re a baby compared to some.”

“You like older women?”

“Baby, I like all women.”

“I’m sure your profession gives you the opportunity to meet, and sleep, with a lot.”

“They might think so.” I quivered as his tongue traced the outline of my jaw. “But I’m very selective. I choose the women I sleep with, not the other way around.”

Oh, and he’d chosen me. I closed my eyes and tilted my head as he worked his way toward my ear. One of his hands traveled down my body to my bottom. Suddenly he was palming a cheek and pulling me hard against him. I let out a small cry when his teeth grazed my flesh. “Have you ever been married, Joe?”

“Once, twenty years ago. It didn’t last.”

He kissed his way over my collarbone to my shoulder. I caught my breath when his fingers began to explore the crack of my ass. “No children?”

“No, thank God.”

His index finger found my anus, and I stiffened. I’d never had anal sex before and wasn’t sure I wanted to give it a try. “You, ah, don’t like children?” My heart began to pound with excitement, and I could definitely hear that my breathing was escalating.

“Relax, Lana. I won’t do anything you don’t want, okay?”

I nodded and did as he asked. With a grunt, Joe arranged me on top of him. As I moved my hands caressingly over his chest, I began to kiss him wherever I could reach him. It didn’t take long to turn his flat nipples into hard kernels with my mouth and tongue. I felt his cock growing hard beneath my leg.

 “You have a dynamite body, baby,” he said, teasing the entrance to my anus. “The way you respond makes me hot.” Without warning, he abandoned my butt and lifted me off his chest. His gaze took in my swaying breasts. “I need to taste those enticing nipples.” He pulled me up until they were dangling over his mouth.

Desire exploded through me when he latched onto one. “Joe…” I closed my eyes and focused on his hot mouth. He sucked as much of my flesh into his mouth as he could, and then slowly pulled back, letting my breast escape bit by bit until he came to the nipple. He took the nub between his teeth, and gently applied pressure until I released a tiny sound.

“You have beautiful breasts.” He repeated his actions on the other one.

I could feel how hard he was and began moving my hips against him. My pussy was wet, I could feel my juices dripping onto Joe’s leg, and all I could think of was how bad I wanted his cock inside me. I was in the perfect position to mount him. When he finished making love to my breasts, he reached toward the nightstand, pulled out the drawer, and fumbled for something inside. His hand emerged with a foil packet. Words seemed unnecessary.

I watched him tear the packet open with his teeth and pull out the condom. I took it from him and moved so I could roll it down his hard-on. I was barely done when Joe grabbed me, raised me over his dick, and lowered me onto it. Buried to the hilt inside me, filling me, we both moaned. Then we moved simultaneously, and set the pace for a fast, hard fuck that was over in minutes, but no less fulfilling.

Thursday, July 18, 2019

Thursday Thoughts

Ever wonder about genres? There are so many, not including sub-genres, that it gets confusing after a while. I did a little (very little) research on the topic. Below is just a fraction of what I found on google.

First, there are four main literary genres which are:

I write fiction. The three main types of fiction are:
short story

The most popular genre in fiction is:

Then there are the seven types of sub-genres of romance. They are:
Romantic Suspense
Paranormal, Science Fiction (Sci-Fi), or Fantasy
Young Adult

And the list goes on...

Sunday, July 14, 2019

Sunday Selection

Chapter 3 next Sunday!

Chapter 2

As I waited for Joe, wondering if I was making a mistake, I couldn’t help but notice one man in particular sitting at the bar. I only noticed him because he was staring at me intently with a half-dazed gleam in his eyes that warned me he was three sheets to the wind. I quickly glanced away, not wanting to encourage him. A flashing sign over the stage drew my attention. It was a notice to patrons that the bar was closing up soon. So that explained why I saw several people downing their drinks and getting up.

A door behind the bar opened and Joe emerged, looking oh my God so damned hot that I caught my breath. He actually pulled off looking sexier in clothes, dressed in jeans and a black pullover that looked poured over his muscular torso. We made eye contact briefly and exchanged smiles before the bartender pulled him away.

While they were exchanging words I mistakenly glanced at the drunk at the bar, realizing when his face lit up like a Christmas tree that I still had the smile on my face. Oh crap! He slipped off the stool and began to make his way in my direction, weaving slightly. The people he bumped into took it in stride, barely giving him any notice. I wondered if I should get up and meet Joe at the bar. It was too late now because the man had reached my table.

“Hi, beautiful.” His speech was slightly slurred, and even though he was standing, I could clearly smell the alcohol on his breath. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“The standard line for fuck off,” he said rudely. He sat down before I could stop him. “But I’ve been watching you and your friends and I haven’t seen any men hanging around.”

 He’d obviously missed the show I just starred in with Joe up on stage. I glanced over at the bar, willing Joe to look my way, but he was engrossed with something the bartender was saying. Waitresses began cleaning empty tables, the stage lights turned off, and I saw a man toss some money onto the bar before leaving his stool. The continuous music I’d heard since arriving there had also stopped.

“I have a date.” I hoped he got the hint when I kept my gaze on Joe.

He turned and glanced toward the bar, then swung back around. “Lucky Joe, he gets to add another notch on his bedpost, and a little more money in his pocket.” He hiccupped. “Don’t think you’re anything special, lady. Joe takes a woman home with him every night.”

 I tried not to let his comment affect me, but inside I felt a deep disappointment. Was Joe a gigolo? A lying one because he’d let me believe my going home with him wasn’t the norm. I tried to brush it off. What did it really matter anyway? We weren’t in a relationship, and I wasn’t going home with him for tea and crumpets. I was hoping for a hot, good time in bed with him, the perfect thing to top off my birthday.

“Last call!” the bartender called out, cutting off my silent contemplation.

The man across from me had a drunken smirk on his face, and then suddenly I felt his hand on the flesh above my knee. He gave a squeeze, winking in what he probably thought was a sexy come-on. I brushed his hand away and stood. “Keep your hands to yourself.” I was careful to keep my voice low as I didn’t want to cause a scene.

The place was emptying fast, and I breathed with relief when Joe finally began to walk toward me. I wanted to believe that the frown on his face was because he knew I was being bothered, and he didn’t like it. I decided to meet him halfway, but when I made a move to go past the drunk he stood and grabbed my arm.

“You think you’re too good for me?” I reluctantly met the growing anger in his eyes. “I just want a few minutes of your company. You’re gonna give him a lot more.”

What an obnoxious ass! I pulled my arm away. “Look—”

About that time I heard Joe say, “Not tonight, Sheila. I have other plans.”

I glanced in time to see him break off contact with one of the waitresses, and I lost my temper. Mr. Obnoxious was saying something to me in his slurred tone, and I reached up and slapped him in the face. The sound was loud enough to cause a hush in the bar, and suddenly the remaining few patrons were watching us. I closed my eyes with a silent groan. The last thing I intended was bringing more attention to myself. Deciding I was going to call the whole thing off and just go home, I turned to leave.

“Why you little bitch!” Mr. Obnoxious had another idea. He grabbed me by the shoulders, turned me around, and pushed me up against the wall. It happened so fast that I didn’t have time to react and it was over before I could blink.

Joe seemed to reach us in record time. He pulled the man away from me. While they were exchanging heated words, I casually slipped away and headed for the door, praying that Helen and Sandy had taken care of the bill before they left. I didn’t stop until I was outside. At the same time, it dawned on me that I didn’t have a ride home. Damn! There was no way I was going back inside, so I headed toward the street where I would be able to see beneath the light to make a call.

“Lana, wait.” I heard Joe’s voice and picked up my step, which was hard to do on gravel while wearing heels. He caught up with me in no time, gently taking hold of my arm and drawing me to a halt. “Are you okay?”

 I knew we were looking at each other, but it was too dark to see his expression. “Yes. I just need some light to call a cab.”

“You’ve changed your mind about coming home with me?”

“I’m sure you can find a replacement,” I said, thinking about the waitress inside.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked angrily. “What did that asshole tell you?”

“Enough to know you won’t be lonely. I only hope my friends didn’t pay you too much to sleep with me.” The hand on my arm tightened, revealing either I’d hit a nerve, or he was growing angrier. “I’m okay with it, Joe, really. I should have known a man like you would have to be paid for a little, ah, extra special attention.”

“A man like me?” His tone was low and gravelly, and I didn’t need any light to know he was clenching his teeth. “Well, let’s go then. I want to make sure I give you their money’s worth.”

Surprisingly, I wasn’t frightened of Joe. He brought out other emotions in me. So when he began pulling me behind him I didn’t protest. He was just too damned sexy, and arousal still hummed through my body. I knew that with his talents he’d have me eating out of his hand in seconds. He was a tall man, his steps much wider than mine, and it was inevitable that I’d stumble. When I did, he caught me, and pulled me up into his arms without breaking stride.

“This isn’t necessary.” A thrill shot through me in spite of my mild protest. I couldn’t recall the last time a man carried me. He just grunted.

When we reached his car, he dropped me to my feet at the passenger’s side door. I barely had time to notice it was a Corvette before he crushed me against the door and kissed me roughly. Caught totally by surprise, at first, I stiffened, but within seconds, I melted against him like ice cream on a hot sidewalk. Oh my God, the man knew how to kiss! When he reined in his aggressive attack, his mouth turned soft and coaxing, dragging me into a realm of endless erotic possibilities.

I moaned beneath his mouth and opened my lips, inviting his tongue inside. As we explored each other’s mouths, I was aware his hands had moved from my shoulders down my back to my hips. My body started to move in a writhing, sensuous dance against his, letting him know that I was turned on. The movement of his cock against my lower belly sent my senses spinning out of control. I fought the urge to reach down and touch him.

As if guessing what was going through my mind, he reached for my hand and brought it to his zipper. The length and hardness of his shaft caused a stream of volcanic heat to flow through my blood, and that’s how I felt, as if I were going to erupt. I began to tremble with hunger. I rubbed and caressed his cock, wishing that we were naked and at a place where we could give in to the overwhelming lust governing my emotions. Joe’s deep groan encouraged me to continue touching him, which I did with brazen abandon.

 “I can’t wait to get inside your cunt,” he rasped, kissing and biting my neck. His hands found their way to my ass, where he caressed and palmed it, pulling me even closer against him. “If I didn’t think we’d be interrupted I’d fuck you right here, right now.” His confession made me feel giddy with power.

 What woman didn’t like knowing that she was driving a man crazy enough to forget public protocol? I felt his hands against the backs of my thighs, at the hem of my skirt, and then he was slowly pulling it up. I gasped at the tickling sensation the light caress of his fingertips left behind. As his passion grew, so did mine. I reached for his belt buckle with the intention of undoing his jeans so I had access to his cock. Without warning, Joe broke our heated kiss.

“Hell, no!” He shuddered against me. “I’ll never make it if you touch me now, and fucking you for the first time in a parking lot isn’t what I have in mind.” I felt his lips moving against my forehead, and his heart pounding wildly against mine. “Come on, birthday girl.” He opened the car door and assisted me inside.

 I squashed my disappointment, and realized he’d made a good call when the door opened to the bar and a couple walked out. As I watched Joe walk around to the driver’s side, I smoothed my arms over my tingling, rock-hard nipples in an effort to ease the pleasant pain. They were aching for his touch; my whole body was abuzz with arousal. My pussy was actually throbbing. I slipped my hand between my legs and touched the silk covering my mound to find it was soaked. I wondered if Joe was anywhere near as turned on as I was.

The light came on when he opened the door, and I had a long enough look at his expression to see the raw stamp of arousal on his face. My gaze shifted downward. The bowed ridge of his hard cock was very evident in his tight jeans. Overall he looked positively wild. A little thrill shot through me, because something warned me that Joe’s possession was going to be nothing short of miraculous. I could hardly wait.

I squeezed my thighs together. He didn’t say anything, just started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. I used the following silence to calm my racing body, and tried to remember when the last time was that I’d had sex. It was a couple of years at least, with a longtime friend after we thought we wanted to take our relationship to a new level. It hadn’t lasted long, and the sex had been awkward so we decided we were better off just remaining friends. With Joe, I knew things would be different. Maybe because sex was all we wanted. He hadn’t denied my comment about being paid to have sex with me. I squashed the disappointment before it could take root.

The silence was starting to get to me. “So, how long have you been a, ah, stripper dancer?”

He released a sexy laugh. “The official title is male stripper, and I’ve been doing it for twenty years.”

 “What?” I’d always been under the impression that people who stripped for a living only did it until they found a real job.

“I started when I was twenty-four.” I sensed him looking at me so I turned in his direction. “It keeps me in shape, and I earn a fairly decent living off it.” That would make him forty-four.

“Did the extras pay for this car?”

“If that’s what you want to believe,” Joe replied in a strained voice. “You’ve already formed an opinion of me.”

He was right, and I knew that wasn’t fair. Why should I believe the words of a drunk? “So why don’t you tell me, then?” I should probably have paid attention to where we were going but it was too late now. “Tear down the stereotype.”

“So you want to get personal?”

“Why not?”

“It goes both ways, Lana.”

I shrugged, even though knowing he couldn’t see it. “I don’t mind answering questions.”

A long silence followed, and then I heard Joe release a sigh. “Okay. It will take us twenty minutes to get to my place. Plenty of time for us to answer any questions either of us has, but once we pull into my drive…” We came to a red light, and once Joe stopped he gave me a long look. “I’m done talking.”

He didn’t have to say any more. His meaning was obvious and made me feel warm and tingly inside. “Okay.”

He accelerated when the light turned green. “Since you asked me about the extras, let me set you straight right now. I’m not a gigolo, Lana. I don’t accept money to sleep with women.”

I was thrilled to hear that. “And here I thought my friends had paid you to sleep with me. Then why are you taking me home with you?”

“Because I want you,” he responded bluntly. “Helen and Sandy didn’t pay me to do anything. I overheard them talking about birthday ideas for you one night, and told them if they could manage to get you to the stage I would take care of the rest.”

“Oh, so—”

“My turn,” We exchanged amused glances. “I’ve been watching you come into Big Dicks for a while now. Why do you always pick a table by the entrance, in the dark?”

He’s been watching me? “You’re a slow mover, aren’t you?” I teased.

“Cute.” He chuckled. “And answer my question.”

“The bar scene isn’t really my thing. Helen and Sandy are my best friends and have been bugging me for a long time about my lack of a life outside of work. I’ve just been tagging along to shut them up.” I’d been using that story for so long that I was beginning to believe it.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, though.”

No, it didn’t. Should I tell him the truth? Sure, my friends had talked me into going to Big Dicks the first couple of times. But seeing Joe on that stage for the first time had kept me going back. He’d mesmerized me with his moves, and then with his magnificent body once the clothes started coming off. Staying hidden in the shadows, I was able to watch him without worry of someone noticing me, or hearing any snide remarks from my girlfriends. More than once, I’d gone home horny to a cold, vibrating dildo.


I took a breath and decided to plunge ahead. What did it matter if he knew how I felt now? After all, I was going home with him. “I stayed in the shadows so I could watch you without my friends commenting about it. Satisfied?”

“You’ll know when I’m satisfied.” He glanced over at me. “So, you were watching me, too. Maybe if you’d given me a hint or two that you were interested I would have made a move sooner.”

All of a sudden, his warm hand was on my knee. Even that light touch excited me and had my senses swimming. For a stripper his palm wasn’t as soft as I expected it to be. The roughness and calluses revealed he might do something else for a living besides dancing. Only now, I didn’t care because his hand was slowly gliding under my skirt and continuing up my thigh.

“Well, I’m sure you haven’t been lonely.” I swallowed with difficulty. If what I said angered him, he didn’t show it. His hand was within an inch of going as far as it could, and I was about to have heart failure.

“Maybe not, but you’re the one I want now. Since the first time I laid eyes on you I’ve wondered what it would be like sinking my cock inside you.” His finger flicked over my pussy and it was all I could do not to jump off the seat. “Jesus, you’re soaked.”

Oh, God! His finger flicking back and forth over my pussy felt so good! I found myself straining toward it, lifting my hips off the seat just a little. He made a right-hand turn down a residential street, passing a sign that said it was a dead end. I wished I didn’t have on any underwear, I wanted to feel his finger inside my pussy, and against my clit.

My breathing picked up with excitement, and I didn’t even try to disguise it. Joe made another turn, and the car came to a hard stop. Then he switched off the ignition and everything went dark. I closed my eyes, working my hips against his intimate caress as I felt the pleasure build inside my body. I began to tremble, reaching for something that remained just out of my grasp.

 “Joe—” I could hear the frustration in my tone. I wanted to tell him something, yet I couldn’t find the words.

“Tell me what you want, Lana.” His voice was low and a little raspy. I heard a noise and realized he’d released his seat belt. Then he moved across my body and I felt my seat belt give. As he started to go back to his side, he paused and kissed me; at the same time his finger nudged my thong aside and sank deeply inside my pussy.

My body arched with pleasure, and our kiss turned wild. Moans filled the inside of the car, the sounds urging us into a more intimate moment. And then, oh God, he found my clit. Having been aroused to the point of almost coming more than once this evening, dreaming about Joe for months and wondering what sex would be like with him, it all added up to one colossal orgasm. A couple of pinches, a few hard flicks, and I was coming like the geyser at Yosemite.

Our mouths locked together, preventing me from expressing my intense pleasure. My first orgasm at the age of fifty seemed to last forever. I was helpless to do anything but ride it out and wait for the convulsions to die down. More than once Joe’s fingers brushed against my clit, making me jerk wildly. I felt his smile before he removed his mouth from mine. Finally, I was able to take a deep breath, and I leaned my head back against the seat, exhausted. I don’t know how much time went by before he slipped his finger away.

“Would you like to go inside and finish this?”

I laughed softly. “I guess we’d better. There isn’t much room in this car.”

“Where there’s a will there’s always a way,” he said with humor. He opened his door and the light came on.

 “Well, I’m not as bendy as I used to be.” Joe laughed outright at that, closed his door, and came around to my side.

When he opened my door, he stared down at me for a minute. “I wonder what put that pretty shine in your eyes.”

“It must have been something you did.” I took the hand he offered and got out of the car. “I’d like to see a shine in your eyes, too, Joe.” I blindly followed him into the darkness.

“Oh, you will.” As we neared the entrance to his house, the outside lights flickered on. He slipped a key into the lock, opened the door, and pulled me inside. Then, flipping a switch by the door the interior lights came on. Joe turned to an alarm panel and punched in a code, turning to me when he was done.

We stood there staring at each other beneath the muted lighting. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt a moment of unease. Maybe it was because I became aware that I’d walked into the lion’s den willingly, and I didn’t even know where that was. Or maybe it was because I’d been fantasizing about Joe for a long time, and he was going to make those hot, erotic dreams come true. I couldn’t help my interest dropping to the front of his jeans, and suddenly his hands were there, undoing his belt buckle.

My attention flew back up to his eyes. I couldn’t ignore the passion on his face. Raw, primal, the fire in his eyes turned them almost black. The noise of him lowering his zipper caused arousal to flood my senses, and suddenly I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything. Without warning, he grabbed my hand and I followed him into a huge, masculine bedroom. When we reached the extra large bed in the center of the room, he halted and turned my way.

“Finish undressing me, Lana.” He put my hand on the opening of his jeans. “I need to feel your hands on me.” He didn’t have to ask twice. I was eager to touch Joe, all of him, and if this was going to be our only night together, I was going to make the most of it.

Thursday, July 11, 2019

Thursday Thoughts

This little tidbit is for anyone who leaves a book review. Please make sure that your review reflects the grammar, sentence structure, editing, plot building, point of view issues, spelling errors, and the like. True story, a reviewer gave me a poor rating once because she said my novella was too short. She admitted that she didn't like short stories so I had to wonder why she bothered with it in the first place. Also, I clearly mentioned that the story was short in the book description.

Tuesday, July 9, 2019

Groundwork for Murder

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding a 16X20 Signed Matted Print "Flora Blanca" by author, Florida artist Sharon Goldman, to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Landscape artist Alexandra Newborn dreams of a one-woman show at the Diamond Gallery. But the gallery owner dismisses her paintings as "old, tired, and dull. Lacking excitement." Those words also describe Alex's unhappy marriage.

Alex's shocking reunion with her college art professor, Dominick "Nick" Anselmo—once a world-celebrated Italian artist, now a homeless lawn man—reignites their passion and fuels a creative spark for both, helping Nick recover from his wife's death.

With Nick's provocative sketches, art imitates life, but Alex doesn't realize they reveal a dangerous liaison between her husband and the gallery owner. Without Nick's knowledge, Alex arranges an art opening that includes his drawings.

When the torrid affair between Alex's husband and his mistress is exposed, the seeds are sown for murder, mystery, and romance.

Read an Excerpt:

The man grabbed her hand.

“Let go!” Alex shrieked.

“Alexandra, wait.”

Startled, Alex twisted painfully in the man’s solid grip as she gave him a closer look.

“Do I know you?”

Alex focused on his face, which was vaguely familiar, and tried hard to bury the image of the rest of the man’s body, which, although she’d only been exposed to a flash of flesh, was oddly disturbing. And when she did, she got another shock.

“P-Professore Anselmo?”

The man released her hand and came out from behind the shelter of the bushes, smiled shyly, and nodded. Although she hadn’t recognized his accent earlier, there was no mistaking his identity. But the last time she’d seen him, his smile had been almost smug and his mouth had been busy doing more than smiling. She’d buried the recollection of their last encounter so deep even she wasn’t clear about the details of just how far they’d gone and how far she had been prepared to go.

It was hard to reconcile the man of her dreams with this nasty-looking person standing in front of her. Professore Dominick Anselmo had been her college art teacher, her inspiration, her secret crush, until he’d been exposed for improper behavior with his graduate assistant and expelled from the university. The scandal had rocked the Art and Architecture Department and blasted a rift in Alex’s personal world.

“Professore?” she repeated, her jittery voice rising a level. “What are you doing here?”

About the Author: Marilyn Baron and Sharon Goldman are sisters. Groundwork for Murder won first place in the Suspense Romance category of the Ignite the Flame Contest, sponsored by the Central Ohio Fiction Writers Chapter of RWA.

Marilyn Baron

Marilyn Baron writes in a variety of genres, from women’s fiction to historical romantic thrillers and romantic suspense to paranormal/fantasy. She and her sister even wrote a musical called Memory Lane.

She’s received writing awards in Single Title, Suspense Romance, Novel with Strong Romantic Elements, and Paranormal/Fantasy Romance. She was also The Finalist in the 2017 Georgia Author of the Year Awards (GAYA) in the Romance Category for her novel Stumble Stones, and The Finalist for the 2018 GAYA Awards in the Romance category for her novel The Alibi. Her novel The Siege was nominated for the 2019 GAYA Awards in the Romance Category.

Groundwork for Murder is her 24th work of fiction. A public relations consultant in Atlanta, she is chair of the Roswell Reads Steering Committee.

A native of Miami, Florida, Marilyn graduated from the University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida, with a B.S. in Journalism—a major in Public Relations and a minor in English (Creative Writing). She met her husband at UF and both of her daughters graduated from UF. Marilyn now lives in Roswell, Georgia, with her husband.

Find out more about Marilyn on her website:
Visit her on Facebook:!/pages/Marilyn-Baron/286807714666748
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Sharon Goldman

Sharon Goldman is an award-winning artist whose paintings are in private collections and who has exhibited in numerous galleries throughout northeast Florida, including the Haskell Gallery in the Jacksonville International Airport.

As a native Floridian, Sharon strives to create work that captures the spirit of Florida. Her colorful palette, unique cropping, and background as a designer and art director help her envision her novel compositions, which she describes as painterly realism.

Sharon has taught art school in her home studio to more than 200 students in her community. Sharon has also written and illustrated a children’s book.

Sharon is on the Dean’s Leadership Council at the University of North Florida’s Thomas G. Carpenter Library, where she gives monthly tours of one of the largest permanent art collections of regional artists in the state.

A graduate of the University of Florida in Fine Arts, Sharon had a long career in the advertising business. After having three children (now college graduates), she has more time to bring her ideas to light.


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Tuesday Teaser


"I'm just worried about her, Ace. She's become part of our family."

I shook my head. "Nope. None of the brothers have claimed Emerson. She means   nothing—"


Ruby’s warning came too late. A sharp gasp alerted me that Emerson had come up behind me. I swung around. Fuck! She looked crushed, and there was no doubt that she'd overheard what I'd said. The moisture in her eyes revealed that I'd hurt her, yet I had to admire her strength in the way she squared her shoulders. I could tell that she'd misunderstood the meaning behind my words, and I opened my mouth to explain before she jumped to conclusions.


Monday, July 8, 2019

Monday Musings

I wish I could sing. I write instead. I wish I was thin. I'm voluptuous. I wish I was forty again. I'm sixty-four this year. I wish I had blue eyes, mine are brown. I wish I was an extrovert. I'm an introvert. The point is we all wish there was something different about ourselves, when we should really love who and what we are.

Sunday, July 7, 2019

Sunday Selection

Read chapter one of One Night Only! Next week chapter two.
Chapter 1

I was twenty minutes into my fiftieth birthday, sitting at a table in a bar that I couldn’t recall the name of even though I’d been coming here for four months. My girlfriends were making fools of themselves as I sat quietly sipping a warm beer. This wasn’t my scene, and never had been, but Sandy and Helen pressured me into coming with them every Saturday night because of my lack of social life. Longtime friends, I knew they meant well. So as soon as we walked through the door I made a beeline for my usual table in a dark corner, and planted myself until they were ready to go home.

Tonight, Sunday, they thought they were doing me a big favor by dragging me here to celebrate what some would call a milestone. Big deal, I was fifty now. I didn’t feel any older, and thanks to my friends and the total makeover they’d treated me to earlier today, I certainly didn’t look any older. In fact, I could easily pass for forty. Lord, what can I do to get out of here? I’m not interested in watching men young enough to be my sons take off their clothes and flaunt their barely packaged goods in my face.

I’m uncomfortable as hell, and more than once I felt the heat of embarrassment burn its way up my neck and into my cheeks. I wished my friends would remember that I’m still here and look my way at least long enough to realize I’m not enjoying myself. I picked up my beer and pretended to sip at it, glancing at the clock on the wall behind the bar. Fortunately, I have the next two weeks off, but I knew they had to work the next day. Being that it’s almost twelve thirty, we were already in the next day. The thought crossed my mind to remind them of that, but I knew this was nothing new for them. Too many times Helen had shown up for work with a blinding hangover, while Sandy would just call in and leave the office short of help.

Feeling the call of nature, I got up and made my way to the bathroom. I couldn’t help but look at the new me in the entranceway mirror, and have to admit I was rocking it. My once mousy brown hair had blonde highlights in it now, and the new cut left it falling to my shoulders alive with body and bounce. My makeup had been toned down to what I usually wore, giving me a younger, natural appearance. Most of it focused on my brown eyes, giving me an exotic, sultry look. I supposed that was my Hawaiian blood, thanks to my mother’s side of the family. A full native Hawaiian, she and my Caucasian father met while he was stationed in Oahu.

I took care of business, and washed my hands, noticed a button had come undone, and reached up to take care of it. Damn it! I frowned when I found the button was missing. The georgette blouse, cut low enough to show an amount of cleavage that I hadn’t shown off since my thirties, revealed even more flesh now. I wasn’t a prude; I didn’t mind showing off my assets, only I liked to do it in a more subtle way. This clingy blouse didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Neither did the short skirt I was wearing.

I sighed, deciding the missing button and my aching feet would be a good excuse to leave. We’d been at it for hours anyway. When I reentered the main room I wasn’t surprised to see that a lot more people had arrived. Most of the tables were occupied, as well as the stools at the bar. The noise coming from multiple conversations coupled with the loud music made hearing anything significant almost impossible. “Lana!”

Surprisingly, I heard my name and I glanced in the direction it came from. “Come here!”

It was Sandy, waving me over to where she and Helen were standing at the front of the stage. They had a ringside view of the dancers. The one gyrating directly above them was only wearing a thong, and had money sticking out of it from all directions. He was the same dancer I’d been secretly admiring since the beginning. Reluctantly, I made my way to them, forced to do a little gyration of my own between tables, chairs, and people.

“I think I’m leaving,” I said before they had a chance to say anything.

“You can’t go!” Helen protested loudly.

“Is this the birthday girl?” asked Joe, the sexy dancer on stage. His name was the only thing I knew about him. I guessed him to be around thirty, and in remarkable shape. The little thong he had on was covering an impressive cock, unless the bulge was all money. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

“Yes, she is!” Sandy all but screamed up at him.

“A special birthday,” Helen added, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer to the stage. “The big five-o!”

Before I could respond to that, I found my upper arms grabbed and Joe lifted me onto the stage as if I were a child. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head as I looked at him, and back at my friends, wondering what else they’d done. Their huge grins warned me that I had another birthday gift coming, and my churning stomach told me I wasn’t going to like it. “What—”

“Let go of yourself for once!” Helen yelled. “Have a good time!”

“You only live once!” screamed Sandy with an enthusiastic grin on her face.

I gulped and looked at Joe, his handsome face split with a grin from ear to ear, and the next thing I knew he was lowering me backward onto a chair. Where had that come from? I hadn’t noticed it being there before. Then he began dancing, and it was clear I was going to get my first lap dance. All of a sudden it was just him and me as he twisted and gyrated sensuously before me. At the side of us beyond the stage, I could hear my friends laughing and urging Joe on, tossing dollar bills at him with encouragement to do more.

Before long everyone in the bar got involved, clapping, stomping, screaming encouragement, and I swear the music became louder. I couldn’t even distinguish Helen and Sandy’s voices anymore. Once I accepted the fact this was happening, I tried to relax and show some enthusiasm. I know my smile wasn’t exactly sincere.

“My name’s Joe,” he said, staring down at me and moving fluidly to the music.

“This isn’t my thing, Joe,” I said, barely able to look him in the eye. So instead, I focused my gaze on his six-pack, which looked hard and glistening. Had he oiled down or was it sweat?

“I know.” He surprised me by responding in a kind tone. I glanced up at him sharply. “I can always tell when a woman isn’t into this. I’ve been dancing for a long time.”

I didn’t say I wasn’t into him. The truth of it was, if we’d been alone and met under different circumstances things could have been different. I just wasn’t into public displays, especially by someone paid to show me attention. Without warning, he parted his muscular thighs and moved his lower body until he was standing over my lap. He was so close I could smell him, a pleasant manly scent of spice and musk.

I felt my cheeks burn when he thrust his thong-covered cock close to my face. I gasped. “Is this even legal?” I was beginning to feel nervous and self-conscious of our intimate position in front of a room full of strangers. It became worse when he lowered himself onto my lap.

“Relax. I’m not going to fuck you. I’m just going to make you a little less tense.” As he spoke I felt his fingers and then palms slowly move beneath my skirt against my outer thighs. “Don’t you want to feel good, Lana?”

I couldn’t believe the rich sound of his low voice was making my body respond. The way he spoke my name, like a soft caress, heightened my awareness of our position. The noise surrounding us faded into the background. I was conscious of his hands slowly pushing my skirt farther up my thighs until he couldn’t go any higher. He lifted his hips slightly, pushing the rest of my skirt out of the way. Then I felt his naked butt cheeks against my thighs. “What—what are you doing?”

My heart began to pound erratically. “I’m making you feel good.”

All of a sudden, we were as close as we could get, and I had nowhere to look but into his laughing blue eyes. It was that moment when I realized Joe was older than I first thought, closer to forty. His thick blond hair made me think of a trimmed lion’s mane, falling imperfectly around his strong-boned face. I was intensely aware of the heat and strength of his large hands, where they were still resting against my upper thighs while he gyrated. Every once in a while he gently squeezed my flesh until the tips of his thumbs nearly reached the elastic to the thong covering my pussy.

I suppressed a moan when my lower body began to tingle with wet awareness. During this time, Joe didn’t stop dancing, but his movements slowed until he was moving against my body with a lazy, precise action designed to turn up the heat. As we stared into each other’s eyes, I became aware of his hands moving to mine and linking. Then my arms were lifted slightly away from my body and behind me, where I could feel Joe transfer both of my hands into one of his. The action caused my breasts to expand until they were nearly in his face. I felt my heart skip a beat, and I sucked in my breath.

His gaze moved over my face with an admiring light, and then lowered to my breasts. Hot lava engulfed me when I remembered my blouse was missing a button and I could feel cool air on my skin. I glanced down to see what he was seeing. More than just deep cleavage, my blouse exposed the tops of my lacy bra. His dance had changed. I was vaguely aware we had an audience, that we were still on stage, yet none of that seemed to matter anymore. Joe’s actions were turning me on to a degree that made me worry about wetting my skirt, and I was powerless to stop him.

Before I knew it, I was responding to everything he was doing to me. I couldn’t help it. He’d opened the door to a long time of abstinence, and my senses were suddenly on full alert and responding happily. “Are you doing this on purpose?” I whispered, feeling like I was losing myself.

“Doing what, Lana?” His tone sounded innocent, yet the look on his face said he was anything but.

“You know what. Turning me on,” I explained sharply, angry because I knew he was playing with me. “Is this part of the dance? I doubt my friends paid you to turn me on and then leave me hanging.” I shouldn’t have said that but it was what I was feeling, a bad habit since I often did it without thinking first.

“Is that an invitation not to leave you hanging?”

What did he mean by that?

Without warning, he moved forward and I felt his lips against the flesh swelling over the top of my bra. He kissed me there, and then buried his nose into my cleavage, inhaling deeply. I shuddered wildly and moaned, thankful for the loud noise surrounding us. Oh my God, what does he think he’s doing? I chanced a glance away from the stage to see the audience was still encouraging him, oblivious to what Joe was making me feel.

“I like what you’ve done to your hair,” he mumbled in between kisses as he made his way to my ear. “You’re a very pretty lady, and tonight you’re extra breathtaking.” He chewed on my ear with a tenderness that sent a spark right to the core of me, so intense that it frightened me.

“Joe, I think this is enough.” He scooted closer until I could feel the ridge of his hard cock at the juncture of my thighs. I caught my breath, because suddenly it didn’t feel like a game anymore. I knew my pussy had to be wet. As I acknowledged that with another moan, his mouth moved up my chest, and then from the base of my neck, where the pulse was, up to where my chin began, I felt the warm, wet, roughness of his tongue. Oh, God, I was so aroused that I began to tremble.

“I’ve been watching you, Lana, and wanting you for months.”

What? There must be something in my ears because I couldn’t have heard him correctly. It’s true I’d been coming to Big Dicks for a while now, tagging along with Sandy and Helen just to shut them up. I’d noticed Joe the first night, who wouldn’t? He was every woman’s dream. His charisma and dance moves were so hot that he didn’t even have to strip down all the way before women were panting with their tongues hanging out. I was no exception, only I remained where I could hide my fascination and ogle him all I wanted.

“I know you’ve been watching me too. You think no one sees you sitting in the dark, but I can feel your gaze on me when I’m up here. I can feel your eyes stripping me before I remove my clothes.”

I wanted to deny it but lying never came easy to me. Besides, it was a moot point now because I was with him, and revealing just how much he was turning me on. Had my friends guessed the truth and set me up? I cast a glance to where I’d seen them standing, only they weren’t there any longer. A moment of panic seized me until I reasoned that they’d probably gone to the restroom.

When I felt Joe move, again I looked into his eyes. “I…I…” I couldn’t find the words. His crooked smile was inviting and sexy as hell. The gleam of humor in his eyes was mesmerizing, like the rest of the man.

Still holding my hands against the back of the chair, his grip relaxed enough to tell me that I could break away if I wanted to. Was he testing me? In the pretext of a dance move, he shifted his hips until the bottom halves of our bodies collided with spine-tingling results.

“Sweet Jesus,” he rasped, “you make me hot.”

Instinct told me this wasn’t part of the show. I gasped and closed my eyes, letting the erotic moment consume me. His cock throbbed against my thinly covered pussy, causing it to buzz with pleasure. A crazy thought entered my mind, and I wished I’d purchased the naughty panties I’d seen in the sexy intimate apparel magazine I’d received in the mail the other day. The ones with the split in the middle of the crotch. Then Joe could slip inside me and none would be the wiser. Just for a second I squeezed my thighs and rocked forward, wishing there was nothing between us. Was that a low groan?

“Lana, open your eyes and look at me.” He was so close I could almost feel his lips caressing mine. I reluctantly did as he asked. “Have you ever seen me invite another woman up here on stage?”

I thought about it, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t. What was he trying to say— that I was the first one? “That doesn’t mean that you haven’t when I wasn’t here.”

“You can ask anyone who works here and they will tell you that I haven’t. Unlike the other dancers, my contract has a clause saying that I don’t have to give exclusive dances to anyone.”

I’m sure my confusion showed. “Then why—” Then it dawned on me that Sandy and Helen must have paid him something extra. I could understand why. So far, he’d managed to keep up his dance moves while we held an insane conversation. Joe was very good at what he did. Why give it away free?

I tried to hide my disappointment, deciding to focus on the here and now, and what he was making me feel. It had been so long since I’d had the attentions of a handsome man, so long since I’d felt like an attractive woman. I wondered what else Joe had been paid for. The thought of sleeping with a virtual stranger was surprisingly electrifying and not something I would have ever thought of doing. But why the hell not? I’m a single woman with needs like any other.

By the time the music stopped my whole body and soul was aroused to the point that I was certain I wouldn’t be able to walk off the stage. I was tingling from head to foot, and had an itch between my legs that needed tending to, immediately. I watched as Joe slowly stood, our eyes locked until I couldn’t stand it any longer and I lowered my head to look down. There was no way he could hide the hard-on behind his black thong. He didn’t even try. He helped me to my feet.

“Come home with me.” He wasn’t asking. I glanced around for my friends, shocked to see them waving at me from the entrance doorway before they quickly turned and exited the place. What the hell? They were deserting me? I looked back at Joe. “Relax, birthday girl. I promised them if you weren’t interested that I would get you home.”

“I’m not a girl.” I don’t know why I said it, other than to bring attention to the fact that I was a woman and much older than him.

His sexy laugh stoked the fire between my legs. “No, you’re a very sexy lady.”

Oh my, he thought I was sexy? “Older woman.”

“Not that much older, Lana, and age is only a number. So, will you come home with me?

This time he asked, and I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Good. Wait for me at your table while I go shower and dress.”

As I took the side stairs down off the stage, I was already thinking about changing my mind. I must be crazy to think about going home with a man I didn’t know. I was still horny as hell but I could take care of that with a little help from the overused dildo under my pillow, and there was always my little purple rabbit. My clit was actually throbbing, and it wouldn’t take long to have an orgasm. Reaching my table, the first thing my eyes lit on was the folded note propped up against my glass. I sat down and reached for it at the same time.

Please don’t be mad at Helen and me for leaving you. We’ve been coming to Big Dicks a lot longer than you have, and we know and trust Joe. He confessed to us a couple weeks ago that he’d like to get to know you. Don’t do anything you don’t want to, honey. Happy Birthday!

Smiling, I reached for my small purse where I’d left it hanging on a hook under the table, and slipped the note inside. Seems my friends had thought of everything. Their note set my mind at ease about going home with Joe.

Thursday, July 4, 2019

Thursday Thoughts

One of the fist books I purchased when I decided to get serious about writing was a resource book on point of view (POV). That was after I'd submitted my manuscript to a publisher and she'd been kind enough to tell me what was wrong with it. She called it head hopping. Before her, no one had cared or taken the time to give me a hint at why they rejected my work, and it was such an easy fix. It would have been nice for the half dozen or so publishers before her to have just dropped me a short note, instead of the standard rejection letter, to tell me what my problem was.