Tag Archives: bitches be writin

mutual release by liz crowe

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Can two dark souls ever make a light?

As president of her own distribution company, Julie Dawson has all she ever wanted — money, power, and respect. But her carefully crafted façade conceals a torment of abuse and helplessness. After years remaining emotionally aloof, she is finally independent, but alone. Because she refuses to rely on anyone but herself ever again.

Evan Adams is no stranger to success, or personal demons. The horrific trauma that destroyed his twin sister, and tore his family apart, forced him to craft a new life from the ashes of the old. He’s content enough, focusing ahead and not dwelling on his murky past. But something important is missing. He knows what that thing is but refuses to acknowledge it.

When a chance encounter brings these two strong-willed but damaged people together , what seems like a long, erotic journey through hell could lead them to a match made in heaven.

MUTUAL RELEASE

A coming of age novel about trust…on the long road to love.

EXCERPT:

A leather chair appeared from the gloom. Evan looked around, then took the seat, disappointed but intrigued. He could hear Jack’s voice, his laughter low and inviting. What the fuck? Was Gordon getting in on action while he had to watch? Then he heard Jenna’s annoying giggle and realized the club must be making her watch too, only she got to do it with her date. He sighed, leaned back, and prepared himself to be underwhelmed.

“No,” a sexy, rough female voice broke through the clamor in his head. It must have surprised everyone because all the people on the couches glanced up. “I want him. Out here.” Evan looked straight at her and saw the hot-as-shit Domme point her bullwhip right at him. He gulped, actually looked around like a dork, thinking there must be someone behind him. He was no sub.

She crooked her finger, her ruby-red moist lips drawing his gaze and making him feel positively hypnotized. His cock kept up its painful pressure along the inside of his zipper. A drop of sweat formed on his temple but he couldn’t move his arms to brush it away. All he knew… was her.

“Mr. Adams,” the disembodied voice said. “Your presence has been requested by our Mistress. Please. Do not make her wait.” The sheer curtain separating him from the crowd parted as he stood. Shoving his hands in his pockets and no longer aware of anything at all but what he wanted right now, he took the few steps down to the main floor.

“Stop!” She held up a hand. “Do not come any closer until I tell you.” She snapped her fingers. A tall man dressed only in leather pants emerged from somewhere to her left. A woman approached him, smiling and holding out a tray filled with… He stared, then shook his head, backing away, his brain on fire and his body in flight mode. “Where are you going, slave?” The woman cracked her whip. Evan sensed its bite near his cheek.

“I am no one’s slave,” he croaked out, sounding like a whiney kid.

“Perhaps. But I am not just anyone.” Before he could catch a breath, the woman was in his space. He kept his hands at his sides, knowing if he touched her he would be punished. Her full lips were inches from his. She leaned in, placed a tender kiss on his cheek, then stepped back.

“The Mistress has chosen!” the voice boomed and the room heaved a collective sigh. Evan whipped his head around, suddenly terrified and hornier than he had been in his entire existence. He closed his eyes as a loud whooshing sound started echoing around in his head in perfect time with his heartbeat. He held his ground, biting the inside of his cheek raw to keep from falling to his knees and kissing his way up her shiny patent leather shoe. The woman stood, the cape-like cloak draped around her tall, perfect body. He couldn’t move and had no idea what to do now anyway.

She took two long steps and was back in his space, tugging his tie, lifting it free of his collar and letting her lips linger over his, tempting, teasing, and bringing his body to full attention from his scalp to his toes. What in the hell was going on here? He was a sub? But the whooshing sound would not stop; it deafened him and he started to shake. The woman put her hands on his shoulders and kept kissing him just enough to make him insane. Disembodied hands removed his suit coat. Then, with a powerful jerk, She ripped his dress shirt into two scraps of expensive cotton that hung from his wrists.

His nipples hardened, his skin broke out in goose bumps. More bodiless hands unfastened his cuffs and took what remained of his shirt away. The woman kept smiling, trailing her fingertip down his chest. Evan’s lungs hurt he was breathing so hard.

“You are very…” She leaned in and touched her tongue to a nipple, making him gasp. “In need of…” She licked her way across his chest to the other hardened nub of flesh and bit, hard, making him yelp and grunt to distract himself from coming in his trousers. “A lesson in what it means to wield control.”

She unfurled the whip, keeping her lips on his skin, licking and nibbling her way up his neck as he stood, fists clenched and teeth grinding. Then she bit down on his lower lip, bringing tears to his eyes and yet more urgency to fuck. What was happening to him?

“Sit.” She shoved him down. Evan dropped, hoping someone had put a chair there. His ass hit leather and wood. Watching mesmerized as she dug a sharp heel into his still-covered thigh. The pulsing behind his zipper had reached a level he’d never experienced. It was as if he were already coming, in his head, trying to relieve the pressure without actually ejaculating. This was a total goddamn trip. He sighed, looked up at the ceiling.

“Don’t look away from me, slave.” Her rough voice made the whooshing sound return between his ears. She snapped her fingers. Two nearly naked women scuttled to his side, undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled off his shoes while removing his trousers, leaving only his tie and boxers.

“Holy fucking mother of… ah!” he cried out, unable to stop when the woman stood over him, her warm, inviting sex right at his eye level. Other hands rubbed, teased him through his underwear. But he kept his eyes trained up as he sucked in a lungful of her heady scent.

“You think this is all there is, don’t you, boy?” The woman’s voice filled his head. “Your giant cock and what you can do with it.” She stepped away from him, flicking her whip at his inner thighs, breaking up the pleasure with a bite of pain that made him curse and lean forward. The lovely, soft hands that had been on his aching shaft disappeared. “Oh no you don’t. You sit; you take, and you do not come. For any reason. If you do, I will make you very,” she slid the handle of the whip along his reddened inner leg, “very sorry. Are we clear? Dear?”

***********************

Official Bio

Microbrewery owner, best-selling author, beer blogger and journalist, mom of three teenagers, and soccer fan, Liz lives in the great Midwest, in a major college town. Years of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as an ex-pat trailing spouse, plus making her way in a world of men (i.e. the beer industry), has prepped her for life as a successful author.  When she isn’t sweating inventory and sales figures for the brewery, she can be found writing, editing or implementing promotions for her latest publications.  Her groundbreaking literary fiction subgenre, “reality fiction,” has gained thousands of fans and followers who are interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”)

Her beer blog a2beerwench.com is nationally recognized for its insider yet outsider views on the craft beer industry. Her books are set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch and in high-powered real estate offices. Don’t ask her for anything “like” a Budweiser or risk painful injury.

For more information on Liz Crowe, please visit her website http://www.lizcrowe.com or http://www.brewingpassion.com (her author blog).  She enjoys interacting with her fans on her Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor. Information for all of her books, including eBook and print formats (where available), can be found on her Amazon author page.

Find Liz Crowe:
Like Liz Crowe on Facebook
Follow Liz Crowe on Twitter @beerwencha2
Become a fan of Liz Crowe on Goodreads
Website: http://www.lizcrowe.com/
Blog: http://www.brewingpassion.com/

BUY LINKS:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Liz will award the following prizes at the end of the Virtual Book Tour and the Book Blast:

Grand Prize:  Paperwhite Kindle (http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B008GEKXUO/)
1st Prize:  Signed set of first 6 books (Includes all books in the series *except for* Mutual Release)
2nd Prize:  boxed set of first 3 Stewart Realty ebooks  (Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs)
3rd Prize:  Zazzle store Stewart swag pack (including canvas tote bag, mug, t-shirt, keychain)
Make sure to follow the tour and comment as the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. Tour dates can be found below:
 
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bitches be writin’…about cheesecake, naked men and milestones

SO happy and excited I can hardly FREAKING stand it. (Tee. Hee)

It COULD be because I am at the wonderful Amber Skyze’s blog today, promoting my Erotic Romance Novella, Give & Receive. It COULD be because she is ALL kinds of awesome, since I totally had a brain leak and FORGOT that I was blogging there today and she took me anyway even when I gave her my shit @4:38 in the am. (You really do rock for this, mama)

Here’s the link if you are so inclined:

http://amberskyze.blogspot.com/2013/04/welcome-alisa-anderson.html

It COULD be that I woke up this morning one hundred pounds thinner and suddenly looking like Halle Berry (pregnant or not as either way is an improvement). It COULD be publisher’s clearing house has awarded me one million dollars every year for the rest of my natural born life.

Hell, it could be that currently I’m being serviced quite nicely by a naked Morris Chestnut, Dwayne Johnson, Ian Somerhalder and Michael Ealy. And Brad Pitt. All at once. And Keanu. He seems like he would be such a considerate lay….*sighs wistfully*

It COULD be they’re holding a cheesecake platter. Feeding and Fucking. Could life be more sweet?

Sadly…none of the above is true. Well…the part about Amber…that shit is totally true. She really is a queen of awesome. The rest tho? They’re more of what I like to call ambitious goals. Fully attainable, mind you….just not currently…

Accurate.

And please. Before anyone tries to bore me with trite nonsense about other wives and children and such….spare me. In my alternate universe, all of these men are currently single, unattached and currently waiting on my eggs to announce go. At which point there will be a mad rush for my premium blend egg stock, much fighting complete with sperm sword play and of course lots of mayhem and carnage.

The victorious sperm will emerge triumphant, a champion to all he oversees, and we will finally unite to form super babies, created in our own perfect image that will one day rule the world.

Hush now. Shhhhhhh. *places finger to lips to silence protest*

We all know I lack certain essential marbles needed to qualify as completely sane. But it’s my blog. Specifically designed for my foolywang material. My fuckery, if you will. There’s even a section marked, “fuckery.” See that? isn’t that neat how there’s a place for me?

So. I’ve wasted enough of your time with my usual shenanigans that some may or may not enjoy. It is my blog after all, and such random acts of nonsensical babble should be expected. And encouraged for that matter. Because we ALL know there isn’t enuff of THAT in the world.

*sighs* But, I digress. On to my point.

The Reason. I am SOOOOOOOO happy. And completely. Totally. Giddy as all get out. Is…..

THE GIVE AND RECEIVE SOUNDTRACK IS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

finalcdcovergivereceiveop1

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00CFAJQ2Q/

*dances around in circles laffing gleefully*

Dah daaaaah dah dah daaaaah dah dah daaaaaah *inserts celebratory marching song*

I am thrilled….scared….sickened…… exhilarated, delighted, deflated (from the short term high that has since dissipated) and excited once again! All of the music, written, produced and sung by yours truly (try to be kind to my artistic vision, lol) featuring a collabo with my good friend Rona Boley who co-wrote “For One Night” with me. Whoda thought one little poem would turn into all of this, eh? So began the epic dynasty that is Give & Receive, lol……

Only ten damn years in the making…..but hey. Better late than never, bitchachos. Most importantly is the moral of this story, kids. Never stop trying to do better. Don’t stop believing in your craft or in YOU. And please believe, if someone isn’t saying you ain’t shit and your books (or music *grins*) suck whale testicles too, lol….you ain’t doing your damn job. Trust.

“Don’t stop…..believing….hold on to that feeling……streetlights….peo-paaaaaaalllllllll ooooooooooooo” *sings loudly*

(quick rewind to last nite)

me: *listening to glee’s “don’t stop believing”*
kid 1: mommy, what’s sea boy?
me: it’s CITY BOY, honey. city boy.
kid 1: a city boy? who’s the boy?
kid 2: city boy? but she doesn’t sound like a boy.
me: that’s cuz she’s talking about a city boy, born and raised in south detroit.
kid 2: so she’s NOT a boy?
me: NO! i JUST said that. (mildly impatient)
kid 1: oh. where’s south detroit?
me: nevermind. please leave me now. *le sigh*

(Present time: NOW) *continues to eye the seven year old hellion boys*

Happy weekend, kids. And buy the cd!
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00CFAJQ2Q/