I hope you've reached the right place, and I hope that you're over eighteen. This website is for adults only. No, I don't sell adult toys or videos or anything like that, this isn't a porn site. But it is the site of an erotic romance writer.


If you're looking for a steamy read, long, short or in between, where the characters are all over each other, get down and dirty, than I can guarantee that you will find something here. I'm going to level with you, my erotic romances are explicit and graphic in nature, but they all have happily forever or happily for now endings.


Enter at your own risk!


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TORY RICHARDS

Erotic Author

Saturday, February 6, 2016

His Possession

Is available for pre-order!

Her betrayal put him in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Now he's out and he wants revenge!



Once inside the small kitchen I went to the cupboard where I knew the fucking booze was kept. I grabbed the first bottle of unopened whisky and started to reach for a glass before deciding I didn’t need it. I fucking needed more than a shot to fuel me for what I wanted to do to Rosa. I couldn’t let her get to me. I wouldn’t. We may never have acted on our feelings for each other, but we both had known they were there. 

Well, the time for acknowledgement had fucking lapsed. Her betrayal sealed her fate and I was ready to make her pay. I downed about three shots worth, letting the raw burn settling in my gut fuel my hate. Running the back of my hand across my mouth I headed for the bedroom where Rosa was locked up, thinking about her pretty face as she sat on the stand condemning me. Hearing her tearful words when she’d sworn that I had done the killing, and recalling the silent plea in her eyes as she stared at me. I understood then that she didn’t believe what she was saying, yet it hadn’t stopped her from lying.

I came to her door, turned the lock and opened it. Rosa turned from the window she’d been staring out of, tear tracks lining her smooth, olive toned cheeks. Even in her disheveled state she was fucking beautiful. Her midnight hair was shiny and half tumbling down to her shoulders. I let my gaze wander lazily down her full curves, taking in the slight changes since I’d seen her last. She was soft, and ripe, and I was going to devour her. 

She took a hesitant step toward me.  “How many men have you fucked Rosa?” I asked from the doorway. My question startled her and she halted abruptly. I could see the confusion shimmering in her eyes. Her brows furrowed. Those sweet, full lips parted as she opened her mouth to answer, only nothing came out.

“How many men have been between your legs in the last three years?” I snarled, baring my teeth. She stepped back against the window in fear.


She began to shake her head. “No one,” she whispered. “There’s been no one since—”

“I was locked up?” 

Tears swelled in her fucking eyes. “Raze, I’m so sorry—”

“No!” I was on her before she could finish. “You don’t fuckin’ get to say sorry as if that will make it all go away,” I gritted into her upraised face, upraised because my hand was in her hair, pulling her head back so she was forced to look into my eyes. “Three fucking years, Rosa. For three fucking years your lies kept me behind bars, kept me from my club.” I swung her around and crushed her against the window, moving my mouth next to her ear. “Kept me from fucking.”

Keeping her pinned, I reached for the zipper at the top of her dress and pulled it all the way down her back. When it stopped at the top of her luscious ass I took the parted material in my hands and ripped it the rest of the way open until her whole fucking backside was exposed. I ignored her gasp, taking in the smooth slopes of her rounded ass, naked because of the thong she had on. Lust slammed into me like a freight train at the sight of all that curvy flesh. I wanted to squeeze it until she was branded with the imprint of my hand, leaving no doubt who she fucking belonged to.

How many times over the last decade had I imagined fucking Rosa? 

“Then I guess we’re both overdo, “I grated into her ear. Not even trying to calm the lust surging through my blood.

“No, Raze, please. Not like this,” she begged. She tried to twist away. 

I easily kept her where I wanted, not letting her tearful plea stop me from doing what I wanted. 

“I had my reason for what I did,” Rosa said softly, her tone conveying a resigned sadness I wanted to ignore.

“So do I,” I snarled. “It was a life sentence, Rosa. Your lies put me in prison for life, with no chance of parole. You’re just lucky three years is all I lost, and now you’re gonna pay.”

*Excerpt unedited and not finalized

Friday, February 5, 2016

The Watchman





“The Watchman (Immoral Virtue Book 3)”
by Arla Dahl
Published: November 20, 2015
Genre: Historical Erotica
Blurb:

Evil is found when evil is sought.

“For when those in authority neglect to reprove sin, then very often the good are punished with the wicked.” – Heinrick Kramer, 1486, The Malleus Maleficarum  

For yielding to the proud tears of an accused witch, The Watchman’s soul may have been blackened by evil. To prove himself unmarked, his body free of the witch’s branding, he must stand naked before all and submit to the governor’s thorough and shameful examination.

Though Giles Scott would resist the governor’s practiced and patient touch, only complete abandon might prove his innocence. And since the witch cannot feel, only Giles’ arousal can spare his neck from the noose. And so, he surrenders.

Yet screams from another chamber – perhaps pained, perhaps pleasured – awaken memories from Giles’ dark, torturous past, and the governor’s touch no longer teases but stings…much like the punishing bite of a whip against the flesh of THE WATCHMAN.

From the Author:
THE WATCHMAN, Book 3 in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy is a dark erotic twist of an already twisted period in American History, the Salem witch trials. Due to its explicit sexual nature, with forced consent, M/m, M/f/f and other BDSM concepts, THE WATCHMAN is intended for audiences 18 and over.



What readers are saying…
“Fifty Shades-meets-Shakespeare in this eloquent, erotic tale.” – Debra Druzy, Contemporary Romance Author

“A well-crafted, wickedly erotic romp through witch trial hysteria. Arla Dahl will whet your appetite for more.”  –- Candy Caine, author of contemporary interracial erotica

“The Watchman was so hot and satisfying, the perfect conclusion to this trilogy.”  – Chloe and Sabine’s Smart Mouth Smut

“Erotic and immensely satisfying.” — D.B.Shuster, author of the Neurotica Series

Come help celebrate multi-published, bestselling author Arla Dahl’s latest addition to her “Immoral Virtue” series, “Watchman”  Thursday, February 4th, 7-9 PM EST. Prizes, games, chats, the unveiling of secrets, and various and sundry shenanigans await!!






Don’t miss out on books 1 and 2 of this sizzling series!



“The Mark (Immoral Virtue)”
Blurb:
Be this a witch?
In 1600’s New England, it was decreed thus:

“Whoever lies with the beast will bear a mark that is insensible and in their most secret parts, and may be located only through diligent and careful search.”

Accused of witchcraft, Abigail Prescott must strip for the masses and submit to the Governor’s inspection. She is ill-prepared for this shameful, grueling probe as it permits him to see and test her every inch and every hollow.

Governor Jameson Foster has examined many before, but Abigail enchants him like no other. Before he succumbs to her sweet charms, he must uncover the dark truth of this bewitching.

Should she feel his prodding and respond to his touch, her innocence will be proven. And this night he will claim her. Should she resist, fail to cry out in pain or in pleasure, then all will know she is a witch who bears The Mark.

“I defy you not to squirm and moan right along with Abigail as you read The Mark. Rejoice, erotic-fiction fans. Arla Dahl has arrived!” –best-selling author, Pam McKenna

From the Author:
THE MARK, Book 1 in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy is a highly erotic, non-romantic tale of sexual awakening and abandon, of the duty to submit vs. the desire to resist. Due to its explicit sexual nature, with elements of BDSM and dubious consent, THE MARK is intended for audiences 18 and over.
Goodreads          Amazon



“The Accused (Immoral Virtue Book 2)”
Blurb:
There is no shame in pleasure.

“Wherefore for the sake of fulfilling their lusts (women) consort even with devils.” -Heinrich Kramer, 1486 “Malleus Maleficarum” (The Hammer of Witches)

To clear their names and save their souls the accused are stripped and bound before all as they await their governor’s examination.

At the governor’s direction, Abigail Prescott, herself accused as a witch a mere hour past, will help test the women’s responses, for a witch marked by the devil cannot feel, no matter how gently caressed, no matter how deeply probed. Under the governor’s scrutiny Abigail is to thoroughly examine their naked flesh for the black mark of the beast.

But the prideful Elizabeth Hobbs withdraws consent. And her fate is sealed. Taken deep into the forest by the watchman, she will remain naked and open to the elements to await her punishment.

Stirred by her proud tears, the watchman touches her. Soothes her. But when a man succumbs to a witch’s charms, he too stands among THE ACCUSED.

“Explosively erotic with unexpected twists and surprises that keep the pages turning.” – 2013 RITA Finalist, Pamela Hearon
From the Author:
THE ACCUSED, Book 2 in the Immoral Virtue Trilogy continues the highly erotic, non-romantic, tale of resistance and of submission. Due to its explicit sexual nature, with elements of BDSM and dubious consent, THE ACCUSED is intended for audiences 18 and over.
Goodreads          Amazon





About the Author
Arla Dahl is a lover and avid reader of all things sexy and suspenseful. She gets her inspiration from daily headlines, and is often surprised by how today’s issues mirror those from the distant past. 

When Arla’s muse goes stealth, she spends her time trying recipes from exotic locales, with rich flavors and provocative scents that tempt and tease and satisfy.

A New Yorker, born and bred, Arla is forever fascinated by the varied cultures of her city. Beyond the rich diversity, the close and heady feel of a moody late night jazz club is her favorite part of living in the Big Apple.

In her current work, the Immoral Virtue trilogy, which is set during the witch hysteria of the 17th Century, Arla twists an already twisted history into a daring erotic work of passion and pleasure.

Follow Arla around the ‘Net!

 Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Google+  |  Blog  |  Website  |

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Dark Tales Diaries by London Saint James



Dark Tales Diaries: Volume Three
Audiobook
by London Saint James

Audiobook Narrated by: John Thrust
Listening Time: 2hrs 2 min


For thirteen years, Tristan Blackthorn has searched for his lost love, Keira. Has the time for their reunion finally come?

When the ball-busting Patrice Wyngate figures out she’s not happy, she does what she does best—takes control. Yet hearing, “Dance for me” completely changes her life, and nothing will be the same again.

For Zoe Harper, there would be no more dieting. The plain truth of the matter was, her no-good cheating boyfriend could kiss her size fourteen ass. Because quite simply, she found a man who was happy to show her Big Girls Do It Better.

Hadley Cooper, Eric Williams, and Jude Jamison had been best friends forever. Yet, at some point, their time living together would end, each of them finding “the one.” Only, Eric and Jude had other thoughts. They intended to make Hadley understand—Three’s Not a Crowd.

Be Warned: ménage sex (MFM), BDSM, floggers, spanking
Please Note: This is a series best if read/listened to in order


You can find the audiobook here: 

Direct Links for audiobook:



Read an Excerpt from Dance for Me:

The first time I’d met Mr. Armitage we’d been seated next to each other at a wedding reception. I remember thinking he reminded me of a slightly older version of Travis Fimmel, only with hunter-green eyes, and temptingly tousled chocolate-colored hair. While we’d never crossed paths before that day, we found out during small talk over dinner, we had a mutual friend in the bride. When dinner was over and the music started, he asked me to dance. I would have said yes, but my time with him was interrupted by an emergency call.
Damn cell phones.
The second time I met Mr. Armitage was by complete accident. Not that I ran into him in a grocery store or something. No. It was an accident quite simply because, he was the last man I was expecting to see. Let me qualify. I’d been making some discrete inquiries about an exclusive, member’s only—for lack of a better description—sex club. So, I wasn’t at all prepared when I scheduled a casual meet and greet lunch with the owner of said club, and he turned out to be the sexy, charismatic man who’d asked me to dance at a wedding reception two months earlier.
After I took another deep breath or two, all right, maybe it was more like three, I opened the door, and stepped into the room where the most handsome man I’d ever seen awaited. Unlike the last two times we met, I was at least semi-prepared for the devastating smile he wore.
It took six steps before I arrived to where he was seated. He watched me approach, his gaze sweeping over me from my black pumps to the top of my head before he stood and swiped his large hand down the front of his deep-purple tie.
“Mr. Armitage,” I greeted, extending out my hand. “I wasn’t expecting you to be in contact again so soon.”
“No?”
“No. But it’s good to see you.”
Damon took hold of my proffered appendage, but instead of a shake, he lifted my hand to his bent head and brushed his lips over the backs of my knuckles in a soft and lingering manner before letting me go.
“Ms. Wyngate,” he said in a voice that slipped over every inch of my body like a velvet blanket. God. The man’s voice was amazing. Then I was walloped when he met my gaze. I wasn’t at all sure if it was his confidence, his voice, the remaining sensation of his lips on my flesh, or his piercing eyes that gave me the good kind of chills. However, I had to consider it very well may be the combination of them all. “The pleasure is assuredly mine.”
“Please,” I said, gesturing toward a chair. “Have a seat.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“May I have my assistant bring you something to drink? A Pellegrino perhaps?”
Evidently my question pleased him since he hit me with his pearly whites once more. “You remembered.”
I don’t think I could forget one single thing about my last meeting with him, not even what he preferred to drink.
“Yes,” I said.
He waved a dismissive hand. “Thank you for offering, but I’m fine.”
“All right,” I said, taking my seat across from him.
“I’ve gone over all the information, keeping in mind what we personally discussed last week, as well what you submitted to me.”
I nodded.
“What you’ve requested is very specific.”
“Are specifics a bad thing?”
He gave a low laugh. “On the contrary. I have found a man whom I believe is exactly what you’re looking for.”
My stomach dipped. “Really?”
“Really,” he confirmed as he reached into his dark gray suit jacket and pulled out an envelope. “Here’s his personal and medical information.”
Damon placed the envelope on the table and slid it across to me with the tips of his obviously manicured fingers.
“Okay,” I said, plucking it up. “Do you want me to read this right now?”
He inclined his head.
Opening the envelope, I slid the paper out. After making sure I had a firm grip on my control in order to keep my hands from shaking, I allowed my attention to fall to the page I held.
Caucasian Male. 41 years of age.
Height: 6’-2”
Weight: 182lbs
Hobbies: Biking, hiking, racket ball, parasailing, scuba diving.
Occupation: Entrepreneur/Self employed
Sexual orientation: Straight
Family and marital status: Divorced. No children.
Then I read the detailed medical report.
Non tobacco user. Non smoker. Negative for HIV.
There were no sexually transmitted diseases or any type of communicable diseases. No major or even minor health problems. No family history of mental instability. I even knew this man’s blood type.
My eyes rounded.
Name: Damon Armitage
My head popped up and I looked at him, muttering, “You?”
 “Tell me, Ms. Wyngate. Do you agree with my recommendation?”
I froze. Shocked. In fact, I don’t even believe I was blinking.
“Ms. Wyngate?”
“Yes,” I said, focusing in on his stunning face.
He chuckled. “Would that be a ‘yes’ you agree?”
I carefully placed the paper down in front of me on the oak conference room table, and crossed my hands, sitting them atop the document I’d just read. “I’m. Well.” I cleared my throat. “I’m a little surprised,” I finally offered.
With a tilt to his head as though studying me he asked, “Why?”
“I guess….” I paused, trying to gather my addled thoughts. “I’m not sure. I suppose when I talked with you about what I was looking for; I just assumed you would—”
“Patrice,” he said, stopping my ramblings. “Make no mistake. From the first moment I saw you walk into Dana and Josh’s wedding reception, I wanted you for myself.”
This statement completely took me aback. Damon was commanding and sexy as all hell, and I couldn’t believe I interested him. I’m sure the man could have his pick of beautiful, sexually progressive women who knew all the ins and outs of the world he lived in.
“You did?” I asked, still attempting to wrap my mind around him wanting me.
He nodded. “Oh, yes. When you told me what you were looking for, what you desired, I knew you would be mine. There was no way I would arrange for any other man to possess you.” He met my gaze, dead on. “What you’re searching for and what I’ve been searching for are a perfect match. You wish to test your boundaries. Long to give up control. I enjoy having control. Trust me.” His voice had gone low. “It will be my greatest pleasure to give you exactly what you need.”
My mouth went dry. “It will?”
“Yes,” he said, assuredly. “Now. All I need is your agreement.”
I glanced down and studied my hands, and for the first time in my life, I felt unsure. Not of him. I had no doubt he was completely capable of giving me what I wanted. I wasn’t even unsure of myself. It was…Well, I wasn’t sure I could release the words from my mouth that would make this whole thing real.
“Patrice?” he questioned.
“Okay,” I said.
“Look at me.”
I did, struck by the charisma and sexual pull of this man. It surrounded him like an aura of pulsing power, bringing attention to the throbbing ache between my thighs.
“Tell me what I want to hear. Do you agree?”
Straightening my spine, I said, “Yes, Damon. I agree.”
He smiled, wide and bright. “That’s what I wanted.” There was a slight pause. “Tomorrow afternoon you will receive a little something from me via courier. You will wear what I send. My driver will arrive at your home tomorrow evening at eight o’clock to pick you up and bring you to me at Indigo House.” He rose in a breathtaking fluidity from where he’d been seated. “When you arrive, you will be escorted up to one of the private play rooms. You’ll wait for me there. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He walked to where I was seated and held out a hand. I took it, wrapping my fingers around his and stood. He used his knuckles to methodically outline my jaw, then he tucked his fingers into my hair, pulling my head back. I gazed into his eyes, watching the pupils grow larger and darker, eating up the green of them as though he were starving for me. Longing zipped down the length of my body. Damon curled his palm around the base of my skull—securing me. Two heartbeats passed.
I shivered when he leaned down and whispered, his warm breath bathing my ear in sweet sensation. “Have no doubt. You, belong to me now, Patrice.”
He kissed me. One simple, soft, chaste kiss on the lips. But it was enough to almost bring me to my knees.



 DTD3 Audio Sample:




What do people have to say about Dark Tales Diaries?
DTD 1
If you want a great on the go story, this collection is a sexy way to break up the day.
Long and Short Reviews
I thought this book was crazy sexy and very entertaining.
—Up All Night Read All Day Reviews

DTD 2
If you ask me this is a must read, I can't wait for Vol 3.
—Kindle Customer
From a mistress with a fetish for her red heels, to a professor indulging in a little play with his assistant on the observation deck, to even an empty nester mom vying for her first big O--yeah, you read that correctly--there's definitely something for everyone in Ms. James' Dark Tales Diaries volumes.
—Audible Review


About London
London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.

As an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.

A complete list of London’s books can be found on her website http://www.londonsaintjames.com. You can also e-mail London with any questions or comments at London@londonsaintjames.com. She loves to hear from her readers.

Would you like to know more? Join her mailing list for her monthly newsletter http://eepurl.com/6P2on. Or, join her book group on Facebook, Slip Between the Pages with London https://www.facebook.com/groups/SlipBetweenthePageswithLondon/

You can also find out more about London at the following locations:



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