Thursday, 4 September 2014

What is Friendship ???

To me friendship should be a balance of the two people and not one person always being the needy one.  Now, I am not going to lie and say that I won’t call you to bitch about my day or something but then again everyone needs someone to vent to. To me this is what friendship is about, having someone who you can vent to and know that they are willing to say get the fuck over it already. Your best friend should be able to make you laugh even on your worst days. They should make you feel better about yourself when you hang up the phone or walk away from them. Even if you are mad at them they should be the one that you think of first or second (depending on how much you like/love your spouse) when you get great or terrible news. They will suck it up and do things that they hate just to make you happy or talk you out of things if it is a terrible idea. This is what I consider a great friendship, but then again maybe I am wrong in what a friend should be.
I think I am a good friend but it seems like my kind of friendship is too much to ask of someone. I do not ask for a lot from a friend. I am not one of those people that will call you up all the time crying about this or that.  I am way too private for that.  I am more likely to be the one who calls and says “So I am in the pokey you want to hit the bail fund and come and see me?”  I will keep your secrets and hold you when are crying or tell you to shut the fuck up and do something if you are in a bad situation. I will help you move or beat the crap out of someone for hurting you. This is what friendship should be.

Over the years I have had a few close friends but it seems like people can only take my kind of friendship for a few years before they decide to drop me as a friend. Oh, they say they are busy and just haven’t had a chance to call or they didn’t realize how long it had been since we have talked. I call bullshit on this. Now, I have no life and I freely admit it and I have ample time to talk to friends. I understand that people have families and other things to do so I try not to bother them too much. But what pisses me off to no end is when they find a new friend and then the time between calls gets farther and farther apart. And if by chance you do talk to them, most of the conversation is about their new friend. To me this is one of the worst acts of betrayal. It is like calling your ex who still loves you and telling them all about your new boyfriend. Why do that????

I used to count a few authors as friends and I found out that really I was just a dollar to them or a way to get ideas for promo or basically just to help them in their careers. I have found that a few betrayals of author friendship has now destroyed my love of reading. I have not read a new author in well over a year. I have barely been able to read my favorite authors new work. There are very few exceptions to this, one being Sherrilyn Kenyon.  I have found a few authors and I like them as people but I have bought their books and nothing happens. I can’t seem to start their books. For a long time reader this is devastating. It really does make me want to cry.
I have spent thousands of dollars on conventions and found that I am just another number to most of the authors there; even ones that I thought were my friends.  I may never go to another one again.  I am not saying I have not met some amazing people there but to me it is just not worth the disappointment that I feel when I find out that someone I cared about just sees me as a dollar sign.
That being said I have pulled away from social media a lot and I am not sure I will ever come back. I will still run RP and post the blogs that I have written but I am not sure I will write anymore.

Sinfully Sarcastic,


Wednesday, 3 September 2014

Charmaine Pauls

Addictions and obsessions in love

“His reason for working, for making his millions, had suddenly changed course after that night in Zone 11. His reason for living. If he hated himself for the degraded human being he had become, he hated her more for making him so. Yet, he stood there and stared at her, at her beautiful features, her perfect nature, her strength, and felt every molecule in his body react, come to life. Around her he was a building volcano. When she was gone, he was nothing but cold ashes. He grimaced. His life had become one, big black hole. And there was nothing he could do about it.”

Loving someone madly, obsessively, to the point of addiction can be heaven … or hell.

Emilio LarraĆ­n knows what it is to be in hell. He is obsessed. He is addicted. And the woman he desires with an all-consuming passion belongs to another. To his best friend.

The woman of his dreams is Dr. Fraya Riber, genius astronomer. The year is 2165. After a chemical genocide a new blood type has evolved, and with it, a biological paring phenomenon, called mating. Females and males can only mate if the cocktail of hormones are physically compatible. Unknown to them both, Emilio infected Fraya with a hormone through his saliva when he saved her from drowning and administered mouth-to-mouth. Now, the new hormone in Fraya’s body is creating a physical addiction to ensure breeding. Only by falling pregnant will the addiction be healed. And only Emilio’s sperm can ease the painful arousal tormenting her body.

The spanner in the wheel is that Fraya is engaged to be mated to Gene Anderson, Emilio’s childhood friend. Fraya owes Gene her life. She is caught between loyalty and passion. Being O+, one of the last to survive, Fraya is compatible with all males and can mate any man she wishes. She is free to choose. But having a choice is not always that easy.

Can she turn her back on the man who pulled her from a burning car wreck and who carries the scars to remind her, for a desire so hot it is eating her alive?

And if she repays Gene’s love and kindness with breaking her promise to him, can she choose between her dream job, the one thing she has worked for all her life, and a man who needs her for sex?

When choices have to be made, Emilio places his friendship with Gene above his own, selfish needs. But when Gene gets cold feet on their mating day, Emilio is willing to do anything to get what he wants. Fraya’s body belongs to him. They are bound by their addiction. Now, he wants her soul. He is willing to put everything into the fight. Even if he has to use sex as a weapon.

Only one question remains. Can a physical addiction grow into love?

The Astronomer is a futuristic erotic romance that is due for release in November this year. If you’d like to be informed when the book is released, please subscribe to my newsletter (which I only mail out when new books are released), and also stand a chance to win a Kindle Fire. Thanks for having me on the blog!

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An excerpt from The Astronomer:

He moved until he stood almost against her, their bodies a hair width apart. He was much taller, so that her eyes locked onto his powerful torso, and she could see his chest move with the fast intake of his breath. Fraya’s heart started pumping furiously, the beat echoed in her aching skull. She felt herself heating from the inside out, her cold forgotten, her trembling now not related to the weather at all. She held her breath in a futile effort to stop the erratic little gulps that had replaced her normal respiration.
       What the hell was wrong with her? This has never happened before. She had a long friendship with Gene before they got engaged. Falling head over heels in love was not her thing. Neither was getting weak-kneed for a man she didn’t know from Adam.
       He brushed her long hair away from her face and grabbed it in a ponytail at the base of her neck. “I need to check this cut, but I’ll have to clean you up first. Can’t see anything through the mud and twigs.”
       Only then did she look at the mirror on the wall. She flinched. What a lovely mess she was. Her hair was tangled, brown with soil and full of sticks and shafts of grass from the reeds. There was a little bit of blood on the side of her face. As for the rest of it, she couldn’t be sure what lay under the dirty streaks covering her cheeks and chin.
       “Come.” His voice was gentle. “I’ll clean you up in the shower.”
       She gaped at him. “You’ll what?” she finally managed through dry lips.
       Instead of answering, he scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom. He left her at a loss for words on the toilet seat while he turned the tap in the shower on.
       “Drink that.” He pointed at a glass of water and two painkillers on the side of the basin. “It will help.”
       Glancing at the pharmaceutical name on the white tablets, ensuring she recognized the brand, she did as she was told before sneaking a look at his broad back. Another flash erupted through her body with a burning sensation that lingered in her spine. Holy crap. Only when steam filtered into the cubicle, did he turn and kneel in front of her.
       “I’ll have to help you, unless you want me to dump you on the shower floor.”
       Help her? A mental picture of them in the shower invaded her mind and caused a fist of lust to punch her in the gut.
       “Yes, just dump me on the floor.”
       “Not a good idea. We’ll shower in our underwear. Alright?”
       He seemed to be very good at giving reassuring smiles as he gently lifted her arms and pulled her wet shirt over her head. Her skin burned under his fingertips.
       This was so not happening. Her arms went around her breasts. She watched as he dropped her dirty shirt on the floor before bending over her, his hands going to the waistband of her shorts.
       She wanted to protest, to pull away, to insult him even, but instead she found her body arching forward, obeying the silent command of his hands when he tugged on the clip button and pulled down the zip.
       “Lift your ass,” he said.
       Like a hypnotized snake dancing to the flute player’s tune, she lifted herself on her arms just enough for him to slip the pants over her hips, down her legs, and over her ankles. Thank goodness she was wearing her new push-up bra and matching French panties. NO. What on earth was she thinking? He picked up her injured foot to study it and, when he had felt his way around her ankle, his hand smoothed up her calf.
       “Such a pity to blotch such a perfect skin,” he mused. “You’re already turning blue.”
       He straightened abruptly and stripped the black cycling shorts from his narrow hips, pushing it over his muscular thighs, until it ended up on the same heap as her soiled garments.
       She was almost too terrified of her reaction to glance at his black briefs, but she couldn’t help the magnetic force that pulled her eyes in that direction.
       Fraya thought she saw his lips twitch, ever so fleetingly. Without another word he picked her up and carried her into the shower. He positioned her body against the wall and adjusted the spray of the water to fall over her shoulders. She watched with mesmerized fascination as he took a sponge and soaped her body. She flinched as his fingers moved over her ribs.
       He turned her sideways. “You’re blue everywhere,” he said, almost sounding angry.
       She gasped as his fingers trailed a path to the lower curve of her breast. The heat diffused in her body was now near painful. Watching her with guarded eyes, he moved the sponge over the sensitive mounds, teasing her through the fabric of her bra, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes. She had to make it stop. It took all her willpower to grab his arm and move it away.
       “I’m not injured there,” she snapped.
       He didn’t apologize for his wandering fingers. Instead he clasped her chin in his hand and tilted her head. “I’m going to wash around the wound. This may sting.” He took the shower nozzle from its hook and moved it to her head, smoothing back her hair.
       She uttered a cry as the water burned the cut where her head had taken a knock.
       “Sorry,” he said, smiling apologetically, his hand moving down and flattening over her tummy, as if he could sense her discomfort and spasms. The warmth of his palm sent shockwaves over her skin. They exploded and rippled to a part of her body that begged for release. She needed to get out of here. Her body shook, her knees battling to carry her weight. Even as she braced her back against the wall, moving away from him, her hips tilted forward. Her mind was going to dissolve. She could feel reason slipping away. She gazed up at him in awed shock, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood. What was going on? That knock had crippled her brain.
       “Oh, baby,” he said, groaning and resting his forehead on hers, “if you tease me by pushing your thighs against me like this,” he looked down, “I can’t promise that I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
       She followed his gaze and sucked in her breath. “Oh. Sorry. I… You’re hard… I mean…”
       He laughed softly, but his voice was strained. “I’m turned on. And so are you.”
       He studied her, his eyes sharp and clever. Of course she was. It was a bit hard to deny when you had your pelvis pressed into a man’s private parts and your thigh draped around his ass. She tried to flatten herself further against the wall and turned her head away.
       “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Must be the bump I took to my head.” She looked back at him and whimpered. “Oh God, what’s wrong with me? What did you do to me?”
       He took her face between his hands. “I don’t know, but you did the same thing to me.”
       “I should go. This frightens me.”
       He kissed her forehead. A wave of intolerable want crashed over her.
       “I know, baby. Stay. Let me make it better.”
       “There’s something wrong with me. The fall, the knock, did something.”
       “Don’t lie about what you feel. You know we both want it. We’ve wanted it since I’ve laid my hands on you in that forest. I can see it in your eyes.” His hand stroked up her thigh, cupping her hip, sending a delicious shiver through her. “I can feel it under my palms.”
       She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She paused as another attack weakened her knees. “I can’t,” she whispered.
       His stare was imploring. Suddenly a dark, predatory look came over him. He took her left wrist and turned it up. He closed his eyes fleetingly and breathed in. His thumb brushed over the untainted skin.
       “You don’t have a mark. You’re not mated. Then why won’t you accept me?”
       She grasped for the final shred of reason that remained in her dazed mind. “This isn’t right. I don’t do things like this. I don’t pick up men and have … do stuff…”
       “But you want to. If the physical signs I read in your body are anything to go by, you’re suffering as much as I am.”
       “Just let me get out of here. Please.”
       He watched her for another moment before his look shifted. “Warmer?”
       She nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.
       He turned off the water. “Stay there.” He reached for a towel and draped it around her, before he tied another one around his waist.
       She couldn’t object as he lifted her from the shower onto the bath rug. She could only watch as he toweled her dry, carefully inspecting the marks the accident had left on her body.
       Finally, gently wringing the water from her hair, he bent down, and when she least expected it, brushed his lips over her jaw. It was almost her unmaking. Her hands found his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as he scraped his teeth down her neck.
       She gasped, trying to push him away, the need and pain now unbearable. “You’re torturing me.”
       He immediately let go. “Look at me.”
       She almost cried out, torn between guilt and need as she fought for control, her eyes pinched shut, her only awareness the craving of her flesh.
       His voice drifted back to her. “Baby, look at me.”
       She opened her eyes reluctantly.
       “Does it feel like a thousand nails are shooting into your gut?” he said softly. “Like your skin is on fire and your insides are being ripped apart?”
       She blinked. “How do you know?”
       “Because that’s what you do to me. Your touch on my skin, it burns me alive. And it’s getting worse. Since we’ve left that damn forest it’s gone from a spark to a fucking intolerable fire. Just let me make it better.”
       “How?” she asked uncertainly. “How can you know what to do if we don’t even know what’s wrong with us?”
       He smiled wryly, his grin now almost a grimace. “Maybe it’s not that there’s something wrong with us. Maybe it’s just perfectly right.”
       “You’re not talking any sense.”
       “It’s not talking we want to do, and you know it.”
       She was close to tears now, biting back the pain as it hit her between her knees. “I can’t.”
       “I’m at the end of my control, seeing you suffer like this.” His voice held a warning. “Why won’t you? Tell me your reasons. Just let me assure you.”
       Oh, she had reasons, alright. She belonged to another. “The guilt...”
       His fingers enclosed on her wrist, the left arm, and brought it slowly to his mouth. When his lips touched the flesh meant for the mating mark, her eyes fluttered close. His wicked tongue licked over the spot, sending a shiver down her spine that had her arching her back. Her control unraveled when he nipped at her skin with his teeth. A cry escaped her lips.
       His other hand went to her hair, pulling back her head, exposing her ear for his lips. His words breathed over her, soft brushes of air. “What if you don’t have a choice? Would that take away the guilt?”
       “I don’t understand.”
       “If I tie you up, you won’t have a choice.”
       “What?” Her eyes widened but the fire had already pooled out to every crevice and peak of her body. Alarmed and surprised that his words had such an effect on her, she took a step back and flinched when she put her weight on her swollen ankle.
       His grip tightened in her hair. “You’re frightened. Of your feelings. We’ll play a game. I’ll tie you to my bed so that I can take you, do with you as I please. You won’t have control. And you needn’t feel guilty.”
       Her lips parted in both shock and excitement as she stared at him.
       His finger traced her bottom lip. “You have a perfect mouth. And a perfect body. You’re so small, so tiny.” He frowned. “How old are you?”
       “Twenty-seven,” she said, her eyes fixed on his hypnotic mouth.
       “Ah. Good.”
       She pulled her arm free. “I should go.”
       “How unlikely is it for two people to be out in a forest, in a foreign zone, in a rainstorm, on exactly the same day, at exactly the same time? How unlikely to feel, to burn, like we do?”
       She shook her head in a weak attempt at denial. “I don’t get what you’re insinuating.”
       “This was meant to be.”
       She shook her head again and opened her mouth, but he placed a finger over her lips. Convulsions of pleasure ripped through her. “Feel that. Feel what my touch does to you. I never do this kind of thing either.” His voice lowered. “I need you.”
       “Oh God. I can’t do this.”
       “You don’t have to do anything. Let me seduce you. I’ll take care of everything.”
       Her body was a trembling mass. “You don’t understand. I’m–”
       “I have to have you. I feel like I’ll die if I don’t. I swear to God, this is the first time I’m saying this to someone, the first time I’m feeling this … this … craziness. And it’s killing me. Give me your control. That’s all I’m asking.” He closed the space she had put between them. “I could take your control with one kiss. I know I can, because that’s how close I am to losing mine. But I don’t want to steal it. I want you to give it to me.”
       His closeness was like a powerful drug. She felt her strength falter as her need spiked. “I don’t like not to be in control.”
       “You only have to say the word, and I’ll untie you. I won’t do anything you don’t want, or like.”
       She was crazy, for sure, because for an insane second she conjured an image of her tied to his bed, his muscular body posed over her, and she felt her breath quicken painfully.
       “Trust me,” he said gently.
       “And why would I trust a complete stranger?”
       She looked at the door, but she already knew she wasn’t going anywhere. The strange thing was that she did trust him. There was no doubt in her mind he would let her hop through the door right now if she wished. The problem was that she couldn’t turn away from her bizarre craving. They both knew there was no way either one of them could walk away.
       Fraya guessed he had sensed her hesitation, because he took it as his cue to lift her and swiftly move into the bedroom, depositing her in front of the bed.
       His hands went to the clasp of her bra, while his mouth went to her ear. “There’s one condition. If you don’t intend to honor it, tell me now, and I’ll let you go.”
       She was beside herself with need. She was wild, panting. His hands smoothed down her back and she dug her nails into her palms not to wrap her legs around him and beg him for release. Her bra dropped to her feet. She craved him so badly she felt feverish. She wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against hers, but he held her at arm’s length.
       “Listen to me. This is important.”
       She was going out of her mind and he was still talking?
       “Open your eyes, baby. Just for a second. What did I say?”
       “A condition?” she said in a haze, forcing her eyes to focus on his face.
       “I don’t do holiday romances. Neither once-offs.” His hand slipped into her panties, forcing the elastic over her hip. “If I have you, I’m going to have you again and again.”
       She moaned under his hot hands. Scorching, burning, hands.
       “Please,” she begged. Nothing had ever felt this good.
       He nibbled at her ear. “Do you get it?”
       She was going to faint. “Yes,” she whispered. She couldn’t care one way or the other for his conditions now. She’d say whatever he wanted to hear, as long as he didn’t stop.
       “I’m going to tie you up now, baby, so that I can make you come in ten different ways. Do you understand?”
       She nodded.
       “Tell me you want it.”
       “Yes.” Oh, yes. She wanted it more than she’d wanted anything in her life.
       He paused. “Look at me.” He took her chin to aid in his command. “If you want me to stop, or to untie you, just say the word, and I will. Understand?”
       “Mmm.” She pushed her body against his and slipped her hands into his briefs, forcing it down his legs with hurried passion. She heard him gasp, and then she felt herself being lifted quickly, gently, and carried to his bed.

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