Blurb:
Tantalise your dark side with kinks to make you
think. From lovers behind bars to lone ladies behind the lens—fisticuffs and
feathers, lilos and lube, scissors and sticks, whips, canes and bondage,
there’s sure to be a kink within these pages to whet your appetite, tickle your
fancies and heat up cold nights.
Featuring stories by Lexie Bay, Victoria Blisse,
Marissa Farrar, Lucy Felthouse, K D Grace, Lily Harlem, Kay Jaybee and Tabitha
Rayne.
Available
from:
Amazon: http://mybook.to/SJGK
All Romance eBooks: http://bit.ly/2gJnFBL
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sexy-just-got-kinky-lucy-felthouse/1125139398?ean=2940153846545
More buy links (including print): http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk/p/sexy-just-got-kinky.html
*****
Excerpt from The Anonymous Life by Marissa Farrar
It
started with a photograph.
A
single, crazy, adrenaline-filled moment of madness.
I’d
had enough of being ignored, of being the maid, the chef, the chauffeur to my
unappreciative family. I dreamed of the days when men used to drop to their
knees before me in the streets. They’d beg to buy me drinks, just to get me to
spend a little time in their company, and, if they were lucky, snatch a kiss
and take me home to their bed. Now, I was invisible. A mother, a wife, a
housekeeper. I longed to be seen as something sexual again, and so I took the
photo.
I
made sure not to include my face. I didn’t want to be identified. Instead, I
held the camera on my phone with one hand and cupped my breasts with the other,
squeezing them together so the tops lifted and rounded in globes. My nipples
peeped between my fingers, crinkled and hard. The lighting wasn’t perfect, and
I had no idea what filters to use, but that didn’t matter.
I
posted it online.
It
was on one of the popular social media sites, known more for its raunchy posts
than some of the others. I’d used the site to watch porno GIFs often enough,
but I’d never had the guts to comment or post something of my own.
Until
now.
I
gave myself an online name—theanonymouslife.
All one word.
It
was only a single picture, but already my emotions surged up inside me, making
me feel alive—a mixture of excitement and guilt, and horniness.
Already,
I was addicted.
I
stayed on the computer, checking for comments and reblogs. People liked my
tits, it seemed. More than my husband, who hadn’t laid a finger on me in
forever. There were a couple of negative notes, but I brushed over them in
favour of the positive ones. Damn trolls were everywhere.
I
don’t know why I got such a thrill from posting my picture online, or why I’d
even felt the need to do it at all. Maybe there was anger in me, a
resentfulness I couldn’t shift, and posting the photo felt a little bit like
revenge. Or rebellion. I resented my husband for plunging me into a life of
celibacy that I’d never asked for. I’d always been a sexual person, and still
was, but now sex was denied to me. My children stole my body away, though they
never asked to do that, and I would never hold them responsible. I love my
kids. They are the one thing that keeps me walking the straight and narrow when
all I want to do is run, screaming, throwing off my clothes and frustrations as
I do so. I dream of a future alone, where I can pick and choose men as I
please, allow them in my life for a short while, only to continue alone once
more. Sometimes now, I feel like I barely have enough time to have a thought to
myself without being interrupted. I can feel the years slipping away, knowing
I’ll never get them back. I’m only in my early thirties—too young to be this
dried up person already—and the thought of the rest of my life as a sexless
woman terrifies me. I love my husband, I do, but he doesn’t seem to have any
interest in me anymore. He’s always too tired from a long day at work. I don’t
know if he has no interest in sex in general or if it’s just me that no longer
excites him. I can’t say I blame him. After seeing the births of two babies,
I’m not sure I’d excite me either. But I can’t bring myself to break up our
home, can’t stand the thought of the hurt in our children’s eyes if we
separated. Plus, he’s a good guy. I like his company, most of the time. We’re
just missing that important element.
So,
instead of dealing with the real problem at hand, I took the photograph.
It
was harmless. I wasn’t hurting anyone. But quickly I discovered one picture was
not enough.
*****
About The Brit Babes:
So who are
the Brit Babes? We are eight UK based authors who spend our days writing steamy
tales of love and lust. Ranging from sweetly vanilla to so-hot-it-will-blow-your-mind,
we aim to please in every literary fantasy department. Our heroes are strong,
determined and soul-achingly divine and our heroines sassy, sexy and not afraid
to grab what they want. Passion and pleasure are the name of the game, romance
and raunch a top priority and it all comes with a delightful sprinkle of kink.
With a whole
host of awards, bestsellers and accolades between us, we just know you’ll find
something to keep you turning the pages and squirming on your seat. Visit the
Brit Babes’ home on the web which acts as a library for the hundreds of books
published by us and hosts special guests every Monday. You’ll find links there
to our FREE anthology too. Tell your friends, spread the word, because one
thing you can be sure of, is when the Brit Babes arrive, sexy has arrived!
Website: http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk
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