Thursday, January 31, 2013

Revelations--A Controversial New Book by Julie Lynn Hayes

I am honored to introduce Julie Lynn Hayes' newest book, Revelation. It is destined to create stimulate juicy discussions .

Judas has never been very popular, not in any incarnation that he and Jesus and the others have lived through. But he doesn’t care about that. All he cares about is following the instructions of God as set forth in the script that they follow. And Jesus. For Judas has secretly loved the son of God for over two thousand years.

But now he decides that enough is enough, and he’s tired of watching Jesus die far too early, and for what? This time Judas is determined to see that Jesus lives a long and happy life, no matter what price he has to pay to accomplish matter if he has to make a deal with the devil himself.

Revelations is a story of what could be, told by those who play it out, time after time after time, unbeknownst to the rest of mankind.  They've come back again, for yet another round.  But this time is going to be different.

I squirm away from him, for I will not permit this. Not yet. Everything on my terms. Or nothing at all. “Lucifer, I don’t have time for your nonsense, nor your juvenile groping. I have no more time for your games, none of them, do you hear me?”

“I hear you, of course, son of God,” he replies, unperturbed, as he grabs my shoulder, not heeding my words at all, spinning me about so we are face to face once more. He peers into my eyes, staring carefully into them as if he can tell something of what I’m thinking just by staring. Maybe he can. The devil has many tricks, after all.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time, Jesus,” he fairly purrs in a very self-satisfied sort of way. “You’ve decided to do it, haven’t you? To allow me to have you to myself. As I knew you would, all along.” His smile is very irritating, and I bristle, knowing I’m only serving to feed his over-inflated ego, but what help is there for it? None whatsoever, so I hold myself in check and treat it like the business deal it is. Nothing more.

“After all these years,” he continues, “two thousand plus years, and now you’re giving in. Why? Because of Judas Iscariot, the very man who continually sells you out time after time after time? If that’s not the supreme irony, I don’t know what is, Jesus. What does your father say about this, about his son the Sodomite? Maybe he would’ve preferred you celibate, like him?”

I refuse to let his words penetrate my mind. I’m beyond being hurt by anything he can say. Let him have this moment. It’s the last he shall have of this sort. I’m here for a higher cause.
“I’ve not yet named my price.” I eye him warily. “Do you not wish to know what it is before you agree to this?” There’s no doubt we both know of what I speak. But he must agree to my terms, or there shall be nothing. Nothing at all.

“All right, I’ll bite, princess, what’s your price?” he asks cockily, his hand reaching toward my crotch, but I manage to halt it before it can reach its destination, push it aside, away from me.
“My price is this. Tomorrow night, you will save Judas.”

“Save him? From what, your father?” He laughs, obviously amused at my words. “Or are the outraged citizens preparing to lynch him? Do you think my merry little band of homophobes hate him that much? Well, it is Judas we’re talking about, maybe they do.” He runs the fingers of one pale hand through his platinum tresses, tossing his head in disdain as I, once again, do not take his bait.

“You’ll make sure he gets away from here safely, I don’t care how you have to do it. But you will keep him from dying. At anyone’s hand. Do you understand me, Lucifer?”

“Oh, I understand you,” he responds, his eyes seeming to glow as from an inner hellish light. “I understand you all too well. To save Iscariot’s mortal hide from a beating, or worse, you’ll give up your own. To me. Do I have that about right?”

“Pretty much,” I reply. “He has to be completely safe from harm, and well away from here,” I continue adamantly. “No negotiation on that point. If he is not safe, and if you cannot prove it, then the deal we strike is therefore null and void.”

“Goodness, you talk such legal mumbo jumbo.” He laughs, but in the blink of an eye, he draws a parchment from his inside pocket, and presents it to me. Am I surprised at his thoroughness? Not at all. He is Lucifer, and not without tricks of his own. I read the document carefully, make sure it covers everything I wish it to. It does. I read it a second time, and then a third, just to make sure he doesn’t slide anything else into it, that’s it, just what I have agreed to and no more. And he has agreed to everything I demand. No less. When I’m satisfied the agreement is indeed airtight and unbreakable, I take the writing implement he hands to me, and sign my name.
And now it’s done. I’ve made a pact with the devil. But on my terms.

Julie Lynn Hayes was reading at the age of two and writing by the age of nine and always wanted to be a writer when she grew up. Two marriages, five children, and more than forty years later, that is still her dream. She blames her younger daughters for introducing her to yaoi and the world of M/M love, a world which has captured her imagination and her heart and fueled her writing in ways she'd never dreamed of before. She especially loves stories of two men finding true love and happiness in one another's arms and is a great believer in the happily ever after. She lives in St. Louis with her daughter Sarah and two cats, loves books and movies, and hopes to be a world traveler some day. While working a temporary day job, she continues to write her books and stories and reviews, which she posts in various places on the internet. Her family thinks she is a bit off, but she doesn't mind. Marching to the beat of one's own drummer is a good thing, after all. Her published works can be found at, Muse it Up Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, Silver Publishing and No Boundaries Publishing.  

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Special Chocolate Contest

I have a special message from Julie Hayes about a very delicious contest....

Thanks for having me, Janie!   I’d like to give back to your readers, so let’s have a giveaway! 

If I get 25 comments or less, I’ll pick a winner to receive anything I’ve written. 

For 25 to 50 comments, there’ll be two winners.

For over 50, I’ll give away to 4 readers, and one person will get a $10 Amazon gift card! 

 Don’t forget to leave your email addy. No addy – no win!

Here’s the link for The Belgian Chocolate Remedy – enjoy!

And while you're mulling over what to comment about, here's a lovely taste of Julie's book:The Belgian Chocolate Remedy.

 Milan had gone back to his last batch of chocolate—unscathed and unburned—and removed it from the burner, where it was cooling. “Would you like to brush the molds with chocolate?” he asked.

“Sure, I guess.” Jesse shrugged. It didn’t seem that difficult, at least in theory. “What’s it for?”

“To coat them.” Milan pulled a pastry brush from a drawer. He already set the molds out; they were simply waiting to be used.  “I have some in the freezer already done,” he explained, seeing Jessie’s questioning look.  “This is not all I have.”

“Okay,” Jessie said, “just show me what you want me to do.”

“Here.” Milan carried the pot of chocolate to the center of the work table. “Set a trivet there, will you?”

“A what?”

“A trivet,” Milan repeated, nodding to the counter behind Jessie.  “That blue thing there. I will set the pot on it so it does not burn the surface.”

“Sure.” Jessie laid the round blue object onto the table, as Milan set the pot.  “Take the brush and dip it like this.” He demonstrated just how far into the chocolate he wanted him to go. “Then lightly brush over each mold, like so.”

Jesse admired the ease with which Milan worked, as if he’d been born to do nothing else. He had very nice hands, he noticed. How would those hands feel on Jesse’s cock? Would he touch it with the same care? His breath caught at the thought.

Milan offered the pastry brush to Jessie. He shook himself from his reverie and took it, pushing the forbidden image away. “So you’re selling these tomorrow. At Outfest. Right?”

“That is correct,” Milan replied. “You are coming, yes?”

“I am unless I want Reggie to tan my hide.”

Milan smiled.

“She would, you know,” Jesse continued, “You ever see her get mad?”

“Yes, I have,” Milan admitted, “I would not care to be the object of her anger.”

“Me either.” 

“A little lighter, please.” Milan had been watching Jessie work. “Here.” He laid his hand over the other man’s. “Like this. Just enough to coat it. I will fill it in after we put in the fruit.”

Their eyes met and for a moment their hands stopped moving, each acutely aware of the other. Milan broke away first. “I will do this one,” he offered, “then we can do the first freeze.”

“First freeze?”

“Yes. We are forming a shell so it will hold the weight of the candy.”

“Okay.” Jesse thought it made sense, but what did he know. He dipped the brush into the chocolate again, making his strokes lighter, earning a “bon” from Milan. He knew enough French to know that meant good. 
 He relaxed a little at the praise.

Once they had set the molds into the freezer, Milan removed the completed candies that waited there. He showed Jesse how to unmold them, and how to put them into their little paper beds, and into the waiting boxes. Then he let him apply the second coating himself.

“You are doing well,” he encouraged him.


A few minutes of companionable silence passed, Jesse concentrating on the task at hand, Milan stealing surreptitious peeks at the brunet. Whether he was willing to admit it to himself, he was glad for his company. Jesse’s presence was pushing the shadows away.


“Yes, Jesse?”

“This is your place, right?” Jessie encompassed the kitchen with his glance. He couldn’t help but feel a lot of love had gone into making this room the place it was. More than a kitchen, it was Milan’s haven. 

“It is, yes. Mine.”

“When are you going to open, then? Reggie said you were going to open your candy store after Outfest, right?”

Milan paused in the act of retrieving a container of raisins from the refrigerator. It was a legitimate question. It’s what businesspeople did—they opened for business. So why was he so hesitant to set a date? Maybe because he didn’t see it ever happening, without Ludolf’s guidance.? 

“I do not know,” he mumbled, setting the bowl on the table, not meeting Jesse’s eyes. “There is work that needs to be done, construction work and…and licenses…and I do not know what, I mean I just do not know…”

Jesse reached out his hand without thinking, but Milan had already turned away. Jesse’s heart ached for the other man—he sounded so alone, so lost. Jesse wanted to gather him up in his arms, comfort him, soothe him, stop his tears, and end his pain. And yes, he wanted to get naked with him, too—to touch him, feel him, and lose himself in Milan. He wanted to taste his lips and take away his misery.

His feet moved, as though his thoughts had manifested themselves into action. His fingers brushed across the top of the table as he edged around it, toward Milan. He had no clear purpose. He simply needed to be closer to him. 

Milan was a few inches taller than Jesse, he discovered, as he came up behind him. Jesse’s lips were at about the level of Milan’s jaw, and he found it hard not to simply kiss him there, to stop his shoulders from shaking, to stem the tears he suspected were falling. He reached up his arms, wanting to hug Milan to him tightly, to take the first step—

The tinkle of the shop bell. Jesse retreated, stumbling back to his side of the table. In his haste, his hand knocked a spoon off the table. It clattered onto the floor. Milan spun around, dabbing at one eye with his right hand.  He left a small smear of chocolate on his cheekbone. Jesse bent to retrieve the spoon, resisting the urge to wipe the chocolate away. The moment passed; he felt like a coward.


Monday, January 21, 2013

Dipping Into Chocolate!

This week we are happy to host Julie Lynn Hayes and her delicious new book, The Belgian Chocolate Remedy, published by MuseItUp Publishing.

Here's what Julie has to say about a most tantalizing topic........

What's one word that;s sure to grab people's attention, make them perk up, and put a smile on their faces?

No, I don't mean sex.   


Who doesn't like… no, I mean LOVE chocolate? I can count on the fingers of one hand the people I know that don't like this delicious treat, and have fingers left over! So, it's pretty universal, this love of chocolate. And it isn’t a recent phenomenon. No indeed, it's been around for a long long time!

Chocolate has been around the Americas for a good three thousand years. It was fermented and used in beverages to take away the bitterness of the cocoa bean. The Aztecs called it xocolātl, from a Nahuatl word that meant 'bitter water.'  They also ate chocolate and used it in religious ceremonies. Wow, what a great incentive to go to those, right?

It's only appropriate to discuss chocolate during any holiday season because it makes such a great gift—not just for the people on your gift lists, but for yourself as a treat for running yourself ragged with holiday rituals—cleaning and cooking and shopping and wrapping and decorating, the whole nine yards! [And, yes, we do the same for any holiday, including Valentine's Day coming up---though we all want to be pampered---jf]

There are different types of chocolate, and each is determined by the amounts of cocoa powder, chocolate liquor and sugar involved.  

·         Cocoa powder is for baking, and doesn't taste good on its own. Unsweetened chocolate is also called baking chocolate or bitter chocolate.  It is pure chocolate liquor, made up solely of ground cocoa beans. It;s not meant to be eaten solo, but forms the base of the other chocolates, except for white chocolate. 

·         Dark chocolate has  chocolate liquor, sugar, cocoa butter, vanilla and lecithin, with a cocoa content ranging from 30% to 70-80%. This category also includes bittersweet chocolate and semi-sweet chocolate. 

·         Bittersweet chocolate has at least 35% cocoa solids; most contain at least 50% chocolate liquors, some as high as 70-80%. Since there is no regulation on the amount of sugar, the taste can vary from manufacturer to manufacturer. 

·         Semi-sweet chocolate contains at least 35% cocoa solids and is primarily an American term, popularized by Nestle and their Toll House morsels. Usually, it's darker than sweet dark chocolate, but sweeter than bittersweet.

·         Sweet dark chocolate has a high percentage of sugar and is sweeter than other dark chocolates, and might have only 20-40% cocoa solids.

·         Milk chocolate, besides containing cocoa butter and chocolate liquor, must contain condensed milk or dry milk solids. While it's easier to overheat, it's a very popular type of chocolate and has a rich creamy taste and texture.

·         White chocolate has cocoa butter but no chocolate liquor or other cocoa products.  Not surprisingly, it has no actual chocolate taste, and may taste like vanilla. It must contain at least 20% cocoa butter, 14% milk solids, and no more than 55% sugar. If you see white chocolate that contains vegetable fats instead of cocoa butter, this isn't really white chocolate and won't taste the same.

[   [All of this talk about chocolate, as tempting as it may be, isn't all that Julie Lynn Hayes connects with this delicious confection. She has another delicious chocolate offering....jf]

I have a new release with MuseItUp Publishing, my first with them. It's just out today, actually, and I'm excited to tell you about it. It's called The Belgian Chocolate Remedy. There's that chocolate theme again!   Milan is my Belgian chocolatier. He and his brother Ludolf came to America after Milan had studied hard in Europe to become a chocolatier, and they ended up settling in the Midwest, in a small town in Indiana. The plan was that Ludolf would help fix up the shop where Milan would make the chocolates, and they would make a good life for themselves. But life doesn't always work out the way you want it to. On the other hand, there's Jesse, who has no interest in his life since his boyfriend dumped him. He lives in St. Louis, but comes to Lafayette, Indiana, at his best friend Reggie’s request (read: demand!). They're going to help her friend Milan get his booth ready for Outfest. Has Reggie got something else in mind?

I hope you like the story, and it wouldn't hurt to eat some chocolate while you read it, maybe drink some too!

Thanks for having me, Janie! 

Here’s the link for The Belgian Chocolate Remedy – enjoy!

Julie has a special surprise--a give away--she'll tell you about tomorrow so please stop by again.



Saturday, July 30, 2011

Magic Eights Sizzles

Elaine Lowe is back with a sizzling new book, her sixth, called Magic Eights. It's part of Elora's Cave's series Quickies.

Blurb: A casual wish by a frustratingly horny wife results in a most unexpected bit of magic...Susanna walks into her kitchen to see two copies of her husband William of eight years. When they both seduce her, she's helpless to resist. Who would want to? When another copy walks in and makes love to her, and another, she ceases to ask why-- only how much can she take?

Seven copies, one original, and all of them want to push her to the very brink. Can she handle them all? Sinful satisfaction is the best anniversary present, and eight is Susanna's lucky number.

Elaine Lowe is a work-at-home mom in Silicon Valley California. Of her many part-time jobs, her favorite one by far is writing. She has a background in biotech, but she has branched out into the demanding world of home management, toddler entertainment, transcription, envelope stuffing, and of course, writing romantic and erotic fiction.

A love of history, magic and romance combines to inspire a lot of her writing. That and her wonderful husband, who is a fantastic sounding board, support system, and research consultant. He really enjoys research. And so does she.


Blowing a frizzy strand of reddish-brown hair from in front of her face, Susanna Walker-Wong tried valiantly to relax into the suds of her bath. Truly soothing rose and chamomile scents floated into the hot air of the bathroom, and hot water always relaxed away the tension she held in her shoulders. But all these luxurious bubbles and steam didn't really get to the core of her problem.

She was horny. Despite, or perhaps because of all the stresses in her life, she was ready to burst with the need for someone to touch her. Well, not just someone. It would be really fabulous if her husband would get a clue and look up from his computer screen long enough to notice her panting after him.

But instead, she took a bath. Really, she shouldn't be this desperate. It was their eighth anniversary, and that morning their son had been taken to his grandparents' house where he was likely being spoiled rotten. For lunch, she had been the entree and Will had worshipped her thoroughly before taking her out to a sumptuous dinner that they'd enjoyed and debated like the foodies they were. It should have been perfect, she should have been completely satisfied.

Her career was humming along, though she was only working on contract, part-time, with Nathan being only four years old and just starting preschool. Yeah, the dishes needed to be done, and there was yard-work that begged to be finished and the floor required vacuuming desperately. But if she ever finished her entire “to do” list, she'd be dead, right? She should be completely content.

So why was she absolutely burning with lust? Every time William breathed, she watched the rise and fall of his chest and wanted to tear off his T-shirt and run her hands over his pecs and lick his nipples until he groaned. She wanted to thread her hands in the blue-black of his unkempt hair and tousle it even more while she pulled his lips to hers. She wanted to knock his laptop to the ground and climb astride him and ride him until he screamed her name and woke up the neighbors in the next condo.

She moved slightly to get her shoulders deeper into the water and relieve the tension there. The soft rose scent of the bubbles fluttered up to try to console her, mixing with the subtle spiciness from Esme's present. She sighed, her hands drifting over her clit, only to retreat quickly to her side when the door swung open.

Will stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the soap-obscured view of her naked body and flashing her a brief but devastating grin that still made her heart go pitter-patter.

"Hello, my water nymph. How do you find your bath? And is that incense I smell?" He turned away from her and to the toilet, nonchalantly taking a piss, while she observed the curve of his ass in the ancient pair of khaki shorts that he wore.

"Bath's searing hot, just like this nymph likes it. And no, the scent is something Esme sent us for our anniversary." She looked him up and down. "Care to join me?" Her voice dripped with invitation, but she knew he didn't share her particular fetish for baths.

"You've got to be kidding me! It's like ninety-five in the house, and it's only going to get hotter. How you can stand to take a hot bath in this weather is beyond my ken!" With a drip and a zip and a quick wash of his hands, he turned back to her, his eyes eating her up and making her throb even more than she had been. With his dark shining eyes carrying that edge of lust and his wicked goatee reminding her how much she liked the drag of his chin against her thighs, she was practically melting with need for him. But she didn't let it show. Her appetite for him was simply ridiculous after all the years they'd been together and she'd never been completely comfortable letting it all out. He was everything she ever wanted, and she didn't feel like scaring him off now.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Berengaria Brown Talks About Writing from the Male POV

What do men want?

Answer? Not much different from women. They want love, respect and someone to believe in them. But, and there always is a but, they're more direct in their needs and desires. Sex is like breathing. They want hard and rough and hot. The partner who can take all that and more is their ideal.

Writing the male POV? Think of the men in your life. The man you love. The men that drive you mad with their grunts and unwanted opinions. Then think of the man who beds you and makes you scream with pleasure because he knows exactly what you want and need. Think edgy, hard and possessive. Think need and tenderness.

Men. They're complex. To write from their perspective? A real challenge. Nothing is worse than reading a male/male book where one of the characters' names could be changed to a female name and the story wouldn't change at all. But written with understanding? Ahh the best romance and hottest sex ever.

Hi, I'm Berengaria Brown. I am a multipublished author of erotic romance and have books out that are contemporary and paranormal with a few historicals coming later this year. As well as MF and MMM I have FF stories and quite a few MMF ménages. You can find out all about me and my books at:

My new male/male/male story, Carnal Connections, from Breathless Press is released today.

Ithiel meets Jason and Toby at a wedding, and a night of hot passion follows. But what will happen the next morning? Jason is darkly handsome and delicious. Toby is quicksilver lightness and fun—and Ithiel wants them both. But can three men form an ongoing relationship, or is one night all they will ever have?

Now, here's a taste of Carnal Connections.
Warning: ADULT Excerpt
Ithiel was woken the next morning by the very energetic Toby. He threw the comforter off, and lay across Ithiel's and Jason's legs—his mouth, teasing from one cock to the next.

"Oh yeah. This is the kind of wake-up call I like," Ithiel said, thrusting up into Toby's mouth.

"Mmmrf. Two hot cocks. How can that be bad?" Toby transferred his mouth to Jason's cock.

"God yeah, but we could do this better as a team," replied Jason, sitting up. He moved to show them his idea.

Very soon, they were arranged in a triangle of overlapping limbs: Ithiel's mouth filled with Jason's cock, Jason sucking Toby, and Toby licking Ithiel's balls.
Ithiel continued to torment Jason while his fingers ran through Toby's blond locks. Then someone's hand started playing with one of his nipples and Ithiel's brain began to fry from the heat of the moment. He concentrated on scraping his teeth gently over the head of Jason's cock. Gradually, he withdrew his lips, sucking as much of the length as he could deep into his mouth, then relaxing the back of his throat to take the entire cock in his mouth. He slid his hand from Toby's hair to his chest and gave a sharp pull on the nipple ring.

"Ahh," Toby gasped.

But it was so hard to concentrate when Toby was running his tongue under the sensitive ridge of Ithiel's cock. Fingers were rolling his balls. Another hand was pinching his nipple.

Shit. I'm gonna come!

You can buy Carnal Connections by Berengaria Brown

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Guest Blogger--Ambrielle Kirk

A Player's Agenda by Ambrielle Kirk (Available now thru Breathless Press)

Have you ever had a crush on someone you thought you could never have? Ever lusted after the cute guy who sat next to you in the cubicle at work? What about the sexy hunk of a janitor who came to clean your office while you worked after hours? Or maybe the hottie who sat behind you amongst a class full of strangers?

A Player's Agenda is a glimpse into one couple's steamy encounter and is published through Breathless Press.

A Player's Agenda can be purchased from the following:

Book Trailer can be viewed here:

Mariah has had to work hard for everything in life, and that includes her MBA in Accounting. She doesn't have time for promiscuous sexy jocks with only one thing on their mind. She'd have to be content with daydreams about former football player Damien, whose nightly sexual conquests made the campus rumor mill. No one is more surprised than she, when Damien approaches her after class one day with a lust-filled agenda on his mind. Does Mariah have the right mix of bedroom moves to tame this player…forever?

"How long are we going to pretend that we don't want each other?"

The question should have embarrassed her, instead the voice intrigued her. She'd heard him speak before. Only once, about a month ago, did he direct a simple hello to her.

"Mariah?" His hands moved down her shoulders, arm, and elbow, then his fingers curved slowly around the small of her waist. "How long?" His voice was deep and rugged.

"W-what are you talking about?"

He grinned. "I don't want to pretend any longer, Mariah."

She loved the way her name sounded coming off his tongue like a melody. It melted her insides like ice on the summer solstice. "I don't understand what you are talking about."

His hand was almost big enough to wrap around her entire waist. "This." When he gripped her tighter against his pelvis, she swallowed a small cry of shock. The hard rod that pressed against her abs was a clear indication of exactly what he was talking about.

He leaned down and spoke against her ear, causing goose bumps to rise on her exposed skin. "You are quite a little vixen, aren't you? Do you deliberately dress in tight jeans and fitted little dresses to get attention? Do your hips move on their own accord like a gypsy? How many times are you going to bend down in front of me pretending to pick up the same pen over and over again?"

Utter shock ran through her. She hadn't been aware that she drew attention to herself like that. She didn't wear baggy jeans, because she felt uncomfortable in them. She wore sundresses sometimes because some of the classrooms were extremely hot and muggy. She didn't pay attention to the way she walked much. And some of the desks were extremely old with tilted desktops that caused her pens to roll off during the lectures.

"I wasn't trying to draw attention."

He walked forward causing her to move back until her spine was flat against the wall. "You don't want this?"

Readers can find Ambrielle Kirk on the web:

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

A little Sex Therapy, Spiritual Style
Are you in need of a little boost in your relationship? Is the sex not a good as it used to be? Do you find you're not as amorous as you once were? Then I have the solution you are looking for. To make an appointment just stop by 69 Lover's Lane. We have a very qualified spirit who knows all the right things to say, all the right moves to show you to get back to where you once were as a sex machine. Only one catch. Your soul may be held until payment is complete.

Did I catch your attention? I hope so.

Gina and James Anderson are an average couple. They've been married for ten years, work together as Paranormal Investigators, but lately, the love seems to be gone. Gina has noticed that James seems distant, and their love-making is few and far between. She's afraid that she might be losing him.

James just hasn't been feeling right, lately. The pizzazz in his life is gone. Though he loves his job, lately, he's been bored with it. And sex, well…he's just not in the mood. He's contemplating walking away, not just from the job, but his marriage as well. Little does he know, this job he's taken might very well be his last.

The premise for this story came to me in one of those flash moments where I just couldn't write fast enough. I knew from the beginning it would be a short story, so it really didn't take long to get it down. You've got a married couple, working together on a daily basis, but something is missing. Why not spice up their relationship with a Ghost Therapist?

I love ghost stories and when the idea for this one came about, I was a little worried how it would be received. I mean, I've created a ghost who plays with a couple in a sexual way. A ghost who plants thoughts and feelings into a couple. Entraps them in their own desires.

Much to my surprise and delight, Sex Therapy: Spiritual Style is a hit.
So if you're interested in a little Sex Therapy, check out my book.

Here is a glimpse.
Sex Therapy: Spiritual Style
Available at
Authors website:

Therapy was never so sexy…or so dangerous.
Paranormal Investigators, Gina and James Anderson have lost the pizzazz in their marriage. Despite being near the verge of separating they take a job investigating a haunted house. Little do they know the spirit within has ulterior motives.
Sex is the name of the game and the spirits are determined to win.

She's getting moist for you.

He'd never heard voices before. Never on the job or in his daily life. But he couldn't deny the coincidence as the voice echoing in his head registered on the EMF.

Her body aches to be touched by you, to be pleased by you.

"Little do you know, buddy. She hasn't wanted me in a good long time."

"Here you go. There's a baseline temp of 20 degrees Celsius in the other room. It didn't change as I was walking through the hall."

Startled by her appearance, James cleared his throat and held up the EMF. "Got another spike. So far, the kitchen and two bedrooms are registering activity. Let's check the third bedroom."

She longs to feel you in her hands, to know as you grow to harden you grow because of her.

He left the room, feeling a tightness in his groin, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Temp in here is the same as the other room,"” Gina announced as she entered the third bedroom. "I'm not as hot in here as I was in the other room though. Maybe we should test the temp in the first room."

"There's a spike in this room as well. But you're right, we should check the temperature in the first bedroom. Leading the way, he entered the first bedroom and the heat seared into him.

"Major spike in temperature here. We have a hot spot."

She wasn't kidding. He was feeling it right to his toes. "See anything now on the camera?"

"Hang on. Here, take this."

He took the thermometer and as their hands touched her felt the heat engorge him.

He took the thermometer from her, taking a deep breath. "What?"

"Did you just…feel something?"

"Like what?" Like he didn't know.

Her body craves you, need you to fill her. She wants you on top, pressing yourself to her, separating her as you thrust inside.

"I don't know. Like…a warm…sexual desire?"

So it wasn't just him. "I did. Interesting."

"Was anything like this mentioned in the file?"

"The couple said they felt things in the bedroom, weird things, scary things but nothing too specific." He hadn't really urged them to explain what they meant. Which wasn't like him and only added credence to his thoughts of something being wrong with him. He just didn't care like he once did.

"And you didn't ask?"

"No, I didn't ask." His remark was short and filled with a great deal of attitude. "What do you pick up on the camera?"


"What do you mean, nothing?" Scooping the camera out of her hand, he held it up and scanned the room.

"Just what I said, nothing, but feel free to see that for yourself."

He was, and it pissed him off. "We've got a tricky one."