Monday, July 11, 2011

A Satyr for Midwinter--new from Phaze!

I know I said this blog was retired but when I have exciting news to share, I'll post it here as well as at I definitely have exciting news today. And please swing over to for a contest!

A Satyr for Midwinter, Seasons of Sorania Cycle Book 4,  is now live and available in all e-book formats at Phaze, specifically at

It has the prettiest cover of all this week's new releases (I think, at least) and one of my favorites to date. And while it has many snowy scenes to cool you down, it also has hot bits to make a summer night even more sultry.

Like this one, for example:

His lips were so heated, so glorious, they set her nipple on fire and with it her soul.
His tongue danced across her nipple, creating sensations that surpassed anything she’d experienced before--and while Laeca hadn’t had as much opportunity to play around as a woman with fewer obligations might, she’d had her small share of lovely evenings with pleasant, attentive men.
Pleasure and desire filled her.
Yet she was empty. Close to fulfillment for the first time in far too long, Laeca felt her loneliness more acutely than she’d let herself on the nights she lay in her bed too tired even to touchh herself and overhearing the distant sighs and moans of lovemaking from another part of the villa or from the courtyard outside her window. She was used to being alone, used to holding herself apart, but now she felt the weight of her separateness more than ever.
Seconds later, she felt that weight crumble from her shoulders from the determined assault of Kallios’ hands and tongue, from the beauty of his male body, too thin yet sculpted, from the way his cock twitched and strained under her wet sex.
Her hips swayed over him, stroking her sex against his huge, hard cock. She moved unconsciously at first but as arousal blossomed, filling her body with liquid fire, she set up a rhythm that matched that of his clever tongue and the pounding of her heart. Her legs straddled his goatlike ones. The texture of the fur, the reminder that beautiful as he was, he was different, not human, should have alarmed her. Instead, it aroused her more.
As a child, she’d been more comfortable with the satyr children than with other humans, enjoying their simple pleasures and connection to the land more than she ever liked boys’ complicated games with balls and sticks and rules or girls’ games of playing house or dressing up and pretending to be a rich lady from Poldar. That quirk must have endured, because Kallios felt right under her hands as she explored his broad chest, stroked his furred, muscular thighs, enjoyed the size and power of his cock rubbing against her most sensitive areas. He was massive, thick, but silken there as he was coarse elsewhere. For all his size she knew he’d fill her perfectly.
As she explored his body, he explored hers. He licked and nipped, not just at her breasts but anywhere he could reach. One callused hand slid down her belly, caressing its muscles and her sharply defined hipbones as another man explore luscious curves. Though his tongue was well occupied, he let out a sighing, happy breath as if he found her leanness pleasing.
Kallios raised his mouth from her nipple, leaving it cold and bereft, though so sensitive the cool air made her shiver with delight. “I’m not a human, Laeca. I’m a satyr. We worship the moon as well as the sun, you know.”
It almost made sense.
Seven hells, it did make sense, and it answered questions she didn’t know she had, allayed fears she hadn’t admitted.