I'm going to be chatting live at Romance Junkies tonight at 9pm EST (details here) and I'm worried I'll go there and spend the whole time talking to the moderator. I'm sure they will be a very nice person, but how crushing would that be for my ego?
As incentive to try and
Please allow me to share a short excerpt from the novel with you, to try and entice you to come hang out with me for your chance to win a copy. This excerpt is not explicit but it is extremely suggestive.
Tasting herself wasn't a new experience for the duchess, but having a man standing inches away while she did it was. He watched her every move, unblinking. His cock ached for release and his moan echoed around the chamber, all because of her. This thought gave her a surge of pleasure and made her fingers taste even better than usual. She savored every drop as she licked them clean before waggling them under the peasant's nose.
"Do you like how I smell, Ferrin?" she purred, her voice teasing, taunting.
"Yes, milady. God, yes." Ferrin drew her scent into himself, the sweetly pungent aroma of her most sacred place. He sucked it in through his nostrils and held it there, resisting the urge to snake out his tongue and steal a taste, hoping against hope to sample it from the source.
Seeing the desire in his eyes, chiseled upon his face and thrusting out from his crotch, the duchess felt her knees grow weak. Unwilling to show this unworthy peasant how he affected her—or, more accurately, how this situation affected her—she took a step back and laughed bitterly.
"Run home, little peasant—run home to your wife and see if her cunt smells as good to you as mine does."
The looks of absolute shock, shame and humiliation that crossed Ferrin's face in succession only served to make her laugh louder, harder.
He stood as though glued to the floor, his face flushed, his manhood aching, crying out for release, disbelieving what he'd just heard.
"You heard me, boy—run home and see if your wife makes your cock stand and call out for her the way it screams for me."
Turning abruptly on her heel, the duchess snatched her skirt from the ground and headed toward one of the doorways at the back of the room. Ferrin stood, unmoving, still in shock at the betrayal of his marriage vows. When she reached the door she turned, her hand resting upon the knob.
"But Ferrin? Come back three days from now, and bring her with you."
"Bring...bring my wife to court?" the hapless man stammered.
The duchess nodded. "Yes. And Ferrin? You don't want to disappoint me."