Today, another Southern gal’s joining us here. Please help me welcome the funny and wonderful Julia Talbot!
My name is Julia Talbot, and I’m very happy to be guest blogging for Emily’s birthday bash! What a neat idea, and thanks so much for having me, hon.
Emily said we should all be blogging about our most memorable birthday experience. I have had some great once, like a trip to Venice, Italy for my fortieth (hey, I own every year!) and a long road trip through Arizona back in my mid-twenties wherein I damned near died from heat exhaustion. Note, Arizona in mid-June is not good.
We’d all love to believe that our birthdays are going to be like this:
Sadly, my most memorable birthday absolutely wasn’t so pretty and perfect.
I was, oh, nine. My birthday is in mid-June, as I mentioned before.
Normally, I was out of school, free as a summer bird. This also meant all my friends were away at Disneyland, or camp, and parties rarely happened.
That year, though, I was in school. They had delayed the North Carolina school year in the fall for a late tobacco harvest. Nope, not kidding. The teenagers all had to work, you see. So, we went to school long into June. The last day of school that year fell on my actual birthday, and we had an end of the year carnival.
Sure. I mean, this was how the day looked:
Which was my problem. Outside. Finally allowed to wear shorts to school in Bible belt North Carolina. Running amok outside, eating ice cream and singing Happy Birthday to me.
Yeah. So, a case of sun stroke and a trip to the ER later, after puking out my guts for an hour or two and sitting for another two on an IV drip, I got to go home and watch my family eat my German chocolate cake while I bawled my eyes out.
Memorable, yes. Good? No.
Thanks for hanging in there through the story. I could have been awful and posted pictures of my sunburn, but then you would have to see my frickin’ amazing late seventies shorts and t-shirt.
Anyhoo, just for hanging out, I’ll be giving away an e-book copy of Lovers of Her Dreams, my latest release from Ellora’s Cave.
You can find it here: http://www.ellorascave.com/lovers-of-her-dreams.html
Savannah doesn’t want to believe in magic, even when she knows it exists. So even though she keeps having incredibly sexy dreams about two beautiful men, she tries to ignore them. At least until she wakes up one morning with a new tattoo and no way to account for it. She turns to her hot neighbor Tim for help, since he knows a tattoo artist who might be able to explain. Tim and Ryder are more than buddies, though. They’re the lovers who have been invading Savannah’s dreams.
Werewolf Ryder and dream walker Tim have wanted Savannah since she moved in next door. They desire her enough that Tim can’t stay out of her dreams, and Ryder is marking her in their sleep. With their lust out of control, they need to find a way to help bring out Savannah’s magical side, and draw her into their loving circle without driving her away.
Inside Scoop: This male/male couple needs a special lady to complete their ménage.
A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
And here’s a wee bit of the story, just to get you going. It’s m/m/f and possibly not safe for work
“Come on, girl. I know you want it”
She moaned as solid heat pressed against her back, fingers spreading like starfish against her leather-clad hips. He was right; she was aching for it.
Needing his cock, pushing up into her, filling her while that tongue worked her clit, made her thighs shake.
Savannah reached up, her fingers twining in the soft ribbons that dangled from the ceiling. The silky strands curled around her wrists, tightened, stretching her out for them, for those hungry mouths, those callused fingers.
“Tell us.” This voice was different—softer, darker, less raw, more...sure.
“I want it. Please, y’all. Touch me.”
Fingers touched her suddenly bared breast, drawing toward her achingly hard nipples, making promises that threatened to make her knees weak.
“We’re going to mark you, Savannah, touch you deep inside.” She fought to see, the room so dark, even as she nodded.
Strong fingers wrapped around her nipples, even as a stubbled jaw scratched down her belly, fingers working her leather pants open, rolling them down over her thighs. Blunt nails teased her flesh, the air chilly, making her goosepimple up.
“Our tongues. You’re sharing that sweet pussy, boy.” Oh. Oh, fuck. That was hot, the banter between the dominant man and the more subby one.
“Sharing, sure, but I’m first. I’m going to taste her come on my lips.”
The fingers at her nipples squeezed, pinched and rolled, and she cried out, the sound of his answering rumble sliding down her spine. Her legs were bared, draped over his shoulders. She cried out, frightened for a second that she’d fall, but both men and the ribbons held her up, supported her.
“Shh. Shh, baby. Trust us. We got you.” His hands were warm, leaving her breasts, sliding down to her hips, wrapping around her ass as a hot tongue slid up along her slit, dragging on her folds.
Then the tongue slapped her clit, lightning shooting up her spine.
She bucked, pushing up into the touch, desperate to feel it, again and again.
“Oh, damn, honey. Do that again.” She loved the feel of his breath on her shoulder, the brush of his beard on her skin while another mouth slid over her pussy.
“Mmmhmm.” Lips wrapped around her clit, the suction steady, wicked, pulling deep in her belly.
Her arms tensed, her body lifting up, sliding her cunt over his lips.
The pull intensified, and she wanted them—wanted their cocks slamming into her, filling her up. Wanted them inside. A deep growl—less human than animal—sounded behind her and, she would have tensed, but the pressure at her clit increased, the fingers working her cunt pushed
harder, faster, driving her higher.
She tossed her head, trying to figure out how to move, how to get them to give her what she wanted.
“You’re ours.” Teeth scraped over her shoulder blade, burning, and it only made her cunt ache more.
“Yes. Anything. Please.”
“She begs so pretty, doesn’t she?”
The answer was a deep, low rumble around her clit. It made her toes curl up so hard her legs threatened to cramp.
“Come for us, Kit.” A fire bloomed on her shoulder, teeth sinking in, scraping her skin, and that pushed her over, her orgasm making her scream.
Savannah’s eyes popped open and she gasped, her fingers still working her clit, prolonging her orgasm. The dream refused to fade, even when the shaking abated.
She was losing her mind. That was the only excuse. She didn’t let boys tie her up, she didn’t beg anyone to lick her down there, and she certainly didn’t have sex with two men. Concurrently or consecutively.
Thanks so much to Emily for sharing her day!