BOOK TAGGING

I’ve generally avoided author forums and networking sites, but at Christmas I decided to join Kindleboards and three author book tagging groups. It has made me revise my estimation of writers as a whole. I’d always thought of writers as a breed apart, honourable people who wrote mainly because they had something they wanted to share with the world. However, with the advent of successful authors like Dan Brown, J K Rowling, Stephenie Meyer and Stieg Larsson there has been an immergence of authors who write purely for money and fame.

Some authors genuinely share sales information to encourage other self-published authors, like J A Konrath and Selena Kitt, to name two, but there are others who just show off their sales figures and give daily updates of their Amazon Sales Rank to brag and increase their own self importance.

Tagging is a simple, straightforward concept: you tag an author’s book(s) and he/she tags yours. Tags increase a book’s visibility, but they don’t guarantee sales. However, authors who join tagging groups should honourably engage in reciprocal tagging. Most members of the group do, but there are a few unscrupulous authors who literally drop their books off for tags and don't tag anyone else. I believe strongly in karma: we get back what we put into this world, so let these non-tagging authors enjoy themselves. I see their machinations and can only feel pity for people who are so dishonourable and sneakily competitive they don’t want anyone but themselves to excel.

EXCERPT - SOCA NIGHTS

Belatedly he wished that he had booked a ticket to Guyana instead. The air hostess’s lilting Trinidadian accent reminded him of his mother’s Guyanese intonation and filled him with longing and nostalgia. But, he reminded himself ruefully, he was thirty-two, not two. His mother couldn’t kiss his hurt better like she had done when he was a little boy.

At the thought of hurt, an image of Dawn, his wife of seven years, surfaced behind his eyelids: her beautiful heart-shaped face framed by long dark brown hair; her shy long-lashed eyes; her sweet smile that could erase the tiredness from his body at the end of a long hard day; her petite, compact body with its narrow waist that he could almost span with his hands; her soft skin and her small firm breasts with prominent nipples she had always taken great care to conceal under clothing.

He had never told her that he’d stole occasional glimpses of their entwined bodies in the mirror of their built-in wardrobe as they made love. She would have been mortified if she had known. Those glimpses had heightened his arousal. Their cocoa-brown skin tones were so closely matched it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began, except for his harder, muscular frame contrasting with her smoother, softer contours. The sight of her slim body pressed against his had been so unbearably erotic.…

Abruptly his image was superimposed in his mind’s eye by one of rippling dark chocolate.

Damn you, Anthony! He silently cursed his best friend for the thousandth time in days, filled once again with the all-consuming rage that was bubbling beneath the surface of his tight-lipped exterior.

“Are you okay?” The softly whispered inquiry from the female passenger across the gangway to his left brought Kevin back to the present.

Curbing his annoyance, he opened his eyes, turned his head and looked into her worried dark gaze. Forcing himself to relax, he assured her, “I’m fine, thank you.”

“It was probably just a patch of turbulence,” she comforted, reaching over to stroke his hand which was clutching the armrest in a vicelike grip.

Turbulence? He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had been unaware of anything else, his inner turmoil greater than whatever the plane had encountered.

Her caressing hand was slim, long-fingered, soft and soothing. Kevin took an audible breath, slackened his grip on the armrests and released the last remnants of the fury that had engulfed him.

The woman and her male companion had been among the last passengers to board the flight. The tall, debonair, light-complexioned man was clearly twice the age of the stunning, dark-skinned diva.

And 'diva' she seemed to be. Soon after takeoff an air hostess had brought her two extra blankets, although she was wearing a woollen hat, thick jumper, baggy jeans and the pair of socks she had pulled on immediately after kicking off her red, high-heeled pumps.

As the man had tucked the blankets around her, Kevin had noticed the thick gold band on his wedding finger. The only ring she wore was an intricately designed silver ring on her left thumb.

The man had pulled out official-looking documents embossed with the Barbadian coat-of-arms from a briefcase and perused them for an hour or two before putting them away. He had then ensured that the blankets were still tightly wrapped around the young woman who, as soon as the man had tucked her in, had snuggled her head onto his shoulder, as if her head was too heavy for her poor neck to carry, and fallen asleep. Assured that his little darling was comfortable, the man had leaned back against the headrest of his seat, his head touching the top of hers and fallen asleep himself.

Kevin had shaken his head in disapproval, praying that as he advanced in age that his brain wouldn’t become addled enough for him to date a woman decades his junior. For him, there was nothing more pathetic than an older man trying to retain or regain his youth by dating a woman young enough to be his daughter. It was obvious that the man had been on a business trip. He had probably been too afraid to leave his nubile mistress alone for more than a day. She looked like the type to play while he was away.

Now she had awoken and was caressing the back of Kevin’s hand, looking at him as if she wanted to induct him into the Mile-High Club while the old fool was sleeping.

“Thanks for your concern. I’m fine.” Kevin smiled frigidly, pointedly moving his hand away from her seductive stroking.

She hastily removed her hand, snuggled her head back against the older man’s broad shoulder and closed her eyes without saying another word.

Yes, Ms Gold Digger, get back to your sugar daddy!

***

Well, excuse me for giving a damn! Kimberley Collins felt like slapping herself as she snuggled back against her father and closed her eyes in embarrassment.

She had thought the man was having a heart attack the way he had been breathing rapidly, his broad chest moving up and down in agitation, beads of perspiration popping out on his forehead, his hands gripping the armrests like his very life depended on it! Okay, maybe it hadn’t been that bad, but the man had been visibly distraught. Alright, if she hadn’t been constantly peering at him from under her lashes she might not have noticed his distress, but surely he couldn’t blame her for feasting her eyes when he insisted on looking so damned gorgeous. She had innocently reached across to offer comfort. It wasn’t her fault that his skin was firm and smooth, and felt so damned good under her fingers that she had kept stroking it longer than necessary.

Okay, she would admit that she might have gotten a little bit carried away. But damn, the man’s skin was deliciously strokeable! Taut, stretched firmly over the underlying muscles and so hot it warmed her chilled palm.

It was only as he had pulled his hand away that she had noticed the glaring line on his finger where he must have worn a wedding band until quite recently. In fact, the line was so glaring he had probably forgotten to put it back on after his shower that very morning!

He must think she was desperate!

Kimberley’s groan of mortification was thankfully muffled by her father’s sturdy shoulder.

***

I AM IN THE DICTIONARY.....LOL!!!

I'm quoted on page 477 of The Routledge Dictionary of Modern American Slang and Unconventional English (Hardcover) by Tom Dalzell (Editor)

hammer noun.
1. the penis US, 1967

They had lost all fear of his hammer. Earlier they had teased it mercilessly, using both pairs of hands to stroke the shaft while passing the head from one mouth to the other. Lexy Harper, Bedtime Erotica for Men, p.49, 2006.

Naughty Professor

I’m so pleased that I’m able to publish this novella on Kindle! This is the original version of one of the seven stories in Bedtime Erotica for Men. It’s longer than the version in the book and contains the gay sex scenes I edited out just before publishing the book. I thought it unlikely that gay men would read the book and all the straight men I asked said that they wouldn’t read the story in its original form. While some of them may have given me true responses (I’m almost sure that my boyfriend spoke the truth), I think that asking them face-to-face was not the best way to go about it. Straight men will not generally admit to reading gay erotica, unlike straight women who will not only admit to reading lesbian erotica but will let you know just how much it turned them on!

This is my preferred version, but I’m not sure what my fans will make of it. If anyone reads both versions please let me know if I did the right thing in not publishing this version in the book. I had hoped to publish it for free on Kindle, but Amazon allows only large publishers to publish free content. So, I have priced it at the lowest possible price of £0.86 on Amazon UK and $1.33 on Amazon US (both prices are inclusive of VAT).

Kindle

There have been several heated debates in Kindle forums about the pricing of eBooks. Some writers feel that they have worked too hard to sell their books below their true worth. Some claim that readers assume that eBooks priced at $2.99 and below are substandard. Some have even reported a drop in sales when they have lowered prices, yet others claim that they have sold significantly more at reduced prices and as a result have accrued greater royalties. It’s a debate that will rage on for a good while yet and I’m not sure that the outcome will be conclusive.

As a writer what I want most is for people to read and enjoy my writing. If pricing my eBooks at $2.99 gives me a larger readership then I’m happy! I’ve never been able to price my paperbacks at exactly the price I wanted due to printing, publishing and distribution costs – Kindle is the first chance I’ve had to do so. These prices won’t stay lowered forever, so if you are thinking of getting one of my books this might be the time to do so. And as always, please download a sample first as my raw writing style may not be to your taste.

Coming Out

When I completed my first romance manuscript in 2005 there was nothing I desired more than a contract with a publisher and to earn enough to write for a living. I thank God every day that my query letter and synopsis were rejected by the major publisher to whom I had sent them. I love the freedom that self-publishing has given me. And though, sadly, I have to still work for a living, I’m making enough to put towards a wonderful retirement even if I’m never able to become a full-time writer.

Using a pseudonym severely limits my marketing potential – most of my friends have no idea that I write much less than I have published books. I have toyed with the idea of ‘coming out’ and aggressively promoting my books, but the urge fades almost as soon as it surfaces. The main reason for staying anonymous is that I would like to reserve my true identity for the literary works I hope to write in future.

Cut / Uncut?...Shaven / Unshaven?

Do you like your man circumcised or not? Or your woman shaved or unshaved? What's your preference?

Lexy xxxx

Penis Size: Nothing but Inches?

I’ve just finished reading two contemporary romance novels by one of my favourite authors and in both books I was irritated by the hugeness of the hero’s appendage. It was like reading about inter-species mating: woman and horse! Both guys were ultra rich and ultra good-looking. I wouldn’t have minded if they were poor, good looking and well hung, or rich, ugly and well hung, but all three? Impossible! Okay, there are rumours that Will is very well hung (Jada, feel free to call me to confirm when you get a spare moment), so a man can have all three of these attributes, but surely this is rare.

I once dated a guy who was six-foot-one, good looking and though he wasn’t rich himself, he came from money. He was intelligent, well read, spoke three languages fluently and had a penis that was barely five inches when erect. I admit to feeling shocked and a trifle disappointed the first time he unleashed the ‘little’ monster, but once he got down to business his enthusiasm made up for the lack of inches. He was a big fan of hooking my legs around his broad shoulders to maximize his thrusts, so as an added benefit my body became very supple.

My current boyfriend is good looking, speaks only one language, reads mainly the sports pages and neither he or his daddy is rich. But he is very well hung. When I told him about my former boyfriend (omitting his name, of course) and how good he was in bed, small penis and all, he laughed as though I was telling him the biggest joke. He wasn’t in the least bit threatened. It would have been a different story if I had told him that my previous boyfriend had had a larger penis – that would have seriously messed with his mind.

But guys with large appendages laugh now because guys who are less endowed are likely to have the last laugh. As you get older, you well-hung guys, you will find that the flow of blood to your midsection required to bring you to full erection may leave you light headed and too dizzy to perform. On the other hand, guys with smaller penises will barely miss the smaller flow of blood and be able to fuck on well into their nineties.

So, three cheers for all the not-so-well-hung men out here! Keep doing your thing and doing it well. As soon as my boyfriend starts getting dizzy spells, I will drop him for one (or two) of you.

WORK WITH WHAT YOU HAVE!

Men are sometimes too worried about their penis size and women about their bodies and not having tight enough vaginas, but what they forget is that the people in bed in them choose to be there.

Women: a small penis can be an asset, so don’t dismiss a guy when he drops his pants and you think there isn’t enough to satisfy you. I nearly made that mistake once and I am so grateful I didn’t. The small-cocked guy turned out to be very, very enthusiastic in bed and more than made up for the lack of inches in other areas. Plus, because he didn’t make me sore we could go on for hours if we wanted to.

Men: the same rule applies to a woman who may not be as tight as she used to be due to age or childbearing. Don’t see this as something negative; see it instead as opportunity to go on for that much longer. Premature ejaculators, in particular, should relish this state of affairs, as it is a less hostile environment than a tight, grasping pussy.

At the end of the day, most of us just want to come. It is so much better when the trip is pleasurable but ultimately the destination (coming) is what we have in mind when we start the journey. So, work with what you have and work it well.

TO 'COME' OR TO 'CUM', THAT IS THE DILEMMA!

Many readers and writers are opposed to the use of the word ‘cum’ as a verb and it is a hotly debated subject. For me it is perfect for describing both the ejaculate and the act of ejaculation, although this is not strictly the correct usage.

The word ‘cumming’ precisely conveys my meaning to the reader without any ambiguity. Just the sight of the word fills me with deliciously naughty thoughts. ‘Coming’ does nothing for me - I use it only in my romance novels or when I have to submit a piece of ‘literary’ work.

While the debate rages on about the proper to use of the word, and since I have never been proper, I will ‘cum’ as and when I please!