Hot History Facts and Hot Fiction

Saturday, February 15, 2014

M/M Flash Fiction: Blindfolded

As promised today's blog post is my M/M historical flash fiction...

House of Manlove decided to celebrate Valentine’s Day by publishing some sexy flash fiction. When I heard about this fun hop I jumped on board. I don't write enough flash fiction. You never know when a short idea could spur something longer!

Here’s my offering "Blindfolded."

Maison de Vénus
New Orleans, Louisiana

Robert stood at the window, looking out at the full summer moon. In August it stayed light late into the evening. On a night like this as a boy he would have gone swimming or horseback riding, enjoying the warm breeze. Unfortunately, those carefree outings had ended at a young age. His life turned upside down first by the war and then the hardships that came after.
On quiet evenings, especially in summer, his mind often drifted to the past. That was a dangerous place to be. He needed to focus on the present and make the best of each day, accepting his new life.
A knock at the door drew his attention.
Robert turned around and watched Madam Bernadette enter. “I have a special request.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
The woman smiled, her black hair pulled back and falling down in a cascade of soft curls. “Rather a client has a special request. He wishes for you to be undressed, blindfolded, and waiting for him when he enters,” she said, her voice lightly accented with French.
Robert ran his fingers through his hair. “I won’t get to see him?”
The busty creole woman in a tight red silk dress watched him with an appraising eye. “Only if he desires you to.”
Robert gave a short nod knowing she wouldn’t entertain any protests. Normally he got at least a quick glance at his client for the evening before the sex games began. The idea of a mysterious man fucking him sent his heart racing.
Madam Bernadette’s gaze swept his slight frame. He hoped he’d pass inspection. She required all her ladies and the two men in her employ to dress and conduct themselves with the upmost refinement.
A beautiful woman like her usually made men hard, especially considering the low cut of her dress, but he’d never been with a woman, and it seemed his body had gotten used to deriving pleasure from men.
 He began shedding his clothes exposing his white skin and lean muscle.
“He will not hurt you, Robert,” Madam Bernadette said in a calming voice. “I take care of my merchandise.”
“I-I know.” Robert drew a deep breath, but his stomach remained in knots. It wasn’t like he knew his clients even when he saw their faces, but their demeanor and the way they were dressed gave him some idea of who he’d be bending over for. A small man, he’d have a hard time protecting himself if someone got rough.
He’d only been at Madam Bernadette’s Maison de Vénus for two months. The upper class men he serviced paid well and Madam Bernadette let him keep a good portion of his earnings. Compared to the last establishment where he worked he had no complaints.
Folding his clothes, he set them on the seat of his chair. Once naked, Robert stood in the middle of the room, arms at his sides, attention on Madam Bernadette. A quadroon, she had flawless nearly pale skin and bright hazel eyes which betrayed her wit. Many nights he’d wondered about her past doubting it was a sordid as his own.
She walked over to the sideboard and opened a drawer pulling out a green silk blindfold and then proceeded to wrap it around eyes. “This wealthy man is a good friend of mine, Robert,” she said. “You will entertain him well this evening. You must do everything he asks and he will be kind to you.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He’d heard this speech every night. This however was the first time he’d entertained one of her friends. He better be on his best behavior. Madam Bernadette was not crude. She did not use the word slave, but he knew that was what he was. A sex slave.
Vision now shrouded in darkness, he listened to the rustle of her skirts as she left the room. Head bowed, he waited for his client.
A few minutes later a knock sounded at the door and then he heard the door creak open. The door closed softly followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. A powdery, spicy cologne wafted in the room. He’d smelled this popular cologne many times.
The man approached, the heat of his body coming closer and closer. Robert swallowed hard. Madame Bernadette was right. He should not be afraid, especially considering this man was a good friend of hers, but the nerves continued.
Two large hands rested on the top of his shoulders, and he raised his head although he could not see his client. He sensed the man was tall, his large hands hinting at his bulk.
“Let me take in your beauty,” a baritone voice said. Two thick fingers lifted his chin a little higher.
When he pulled his hand away, Robert bowed his head. He’d learned the art of submission over the years, continually trying to perfect his performance.
The tall man circled him, taking in his nakedness from all sides. Standing behind him, the man pressed against his backside. The bulge confined in his client’s trousers poked against his ass.
“You are not to speak unless I give you permission to do so. Is that clear?”
Robert nodded.
“Good.” The man leaned over and whispered in his ear. “You are not allowed to come until I tell you it is time to come. Do you understand?”
Robert nodded again. At least the man hinted he would allow him to come. Some clients denied him that release.
The man grabbed his wrists and pulled them behind his back. “Hold your hands here. I will get a tie.”
Not being allowed to speak, Robert nodded again. A minute later he felt the cool silk circling his wrists.
“Now get down on your knees,” his client ordered.
Robert complied, his pulse battering his veins.
The man walked around and stood in front of him. Then Robert heard the sound of him opening the fastenings of his trousers. The tip of his client’s freed cock, already wet with pre-cum, brushed over Robert’s lips. Robert sighed and resisted the urge to taste him until given leave to do so.
The man ran his cock across Robert’s lips several times, teasing him mercilessly. “Lick the head,” he finally said.
Robert’s lips parted and his tongue snaked out softly touching the tip. The man sighed and it encouraged him to lick further. He worked his tongue into the slit, and tasted a drop of pre-cum. A little salty, he tastes good. Robert slid his lips over the tip, continuing to lave the sensitive skin.
His client curled his fingers into his hair, pulling him further onto his cock.
Robert felt the man’s rod slide into his mouth. The large member filled him quickly and he knew it would be impossible to take him all.
“Suck it until I come,” the man commanded.
Robert sucked hard. He loved to suck cock, and this man’s large rod was a treat. His client continued to grasp his hair, pulling harder as he got excited. The pinpricks of pain went straight to Robert’s own swollen member. It throbbed, begging for attention, but Robert focused solely on pleasing the man paying for his services.
His client fucked his mouth and moaned, his breath coming in bursts. “I’m close,” he said, continuing to pant.
After being in the business as long as he had, Robert already knew this. His lips slid up the shaft, eager for the man to explode in his mouth.
“Swallow,” the man ordered as he shot a thick load.
The creamy come slid down Robert’s throat and he worked to swallow every drop.
His client grunted and pulled him off his cock. The rough treatment didn’t hurt, just took him by surprise.
Robert heard the man fastening up his trousers again. Was that all? This mysterious stranger had bought his services for the entire evening. Madam Bernadette did not pay by the hour.
Still kneeling, Robert lowered his head.
His client slid a warm palm across his cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I did not mean to be so gruff. You have permission to speak.”
Robert licked the last of the come off his lips. “I am fine, master.” His hard cock throbbed, but he ignored the discomfort.
“Call me, Sir. I do not like to be called master.”
“Yes, Sir,” Robert said, his breath catching in his lungs. The man’s commands aroused him more than any others he’d received. Though he hated to admit it, he liked being dominated.
His client’s fingers trailed down Robert’s chest and then he took his cock in hand.
“I want to hear you moan,” he said, and stroked Robert’s cock.
He inhaled sharply, not expecting the intimate caress. The client increased his pace, and Robert mewed, leaning forward to offer encouragement.
“You are not to come until I say,” the man reminded him.
This man’s deep voice, his control stirred him. He’d played these games before. “Yes, Sir.”
Robert felt himself building up to orgasm and wished the man would increase his pace to bring on his pleasure, but then he couldn’t come. Yet. He gritted his teeth, edging off the nearing climax. He moaned loudly, denying himself release was nothing short of torture. And yet he enjoyed every second. His balls drew up tight and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off.
The man’s face came closer, his warm breath containing an undertone of tobacco. Robert waited, praying for a kiss.
“You may come,” the dominant man said and then pressed their lips together.
Robert instantly came, shooting come onto the wood floor. The man continued to stroke him, slowing his pace. Robert gasped and then shot another load.
His client let go of his softening cock. The sound of splashing water told Robert the man was washing his hands. When he returned he petted his hair, and Robert arched into the caress, satisfied. If only he could see the man who had sated him. Or at least learn his name.
The man grabbed his shoulders and helped him to his feet. Robert lowered his head, not knowing what would happen next.
His client walked behind him and untied the bindings on his wrists.
“May I take my blindfold off, Sir?” Robert whispered.
“No.” The man’s rough response tightened Robert’s stomach. He did not want to sully the moment.
His client led him over to the bed. Still holding his hand, the large man sat on the mattress and then he pulled him into his lap. The bed dipped under their weight, mostly from the dominant man.  Robert didn’t weigh much even when soaking wet.
“Wrap your arms around me,” his client said.
He readily complied, circling his arms around the man’s neck. He snuggled against the man’s chest, delighting in their closeness. Many of the men fucked him and left without indulging in cuddling. They desired to sate themselves and then leave, putting distance between themselves at the whore.
The blindfold didn’t fit with the way this master conducted himself. He delighted in being in control, but offered tender treatment. There has to be a reason why he doesn’t want me to see him. Robert’s mind raced with possibilities. Was he terribly scarred from an accident? Maybe he was older and did not want to show his gray hair. He did not feel old though. He felt strong and virile.
Robert parted his mouth, allowing his client’s tongue to slide within. The dominant man placed a hand on both sides of Robert’s face holding him still while he plundered his mouth. Usually Robert couldn’t wait for the night to end, but tonight he wanted this man to have his way with him. Without seeing him his touch and voice kindled a lustful fire in his gut. Only more time with this man would put out the growing flames.
His client’s strong arms surrounded him, making him feel protected, safe. This dominant man continued to love his mouth and Robert felt a heady rush. This must be what it is like with a lover and not just have your body used. Robert’s cock thickened, coming to life again. If he was this aroused he figured the other man was as well.
His clients usually only cared about their own pleasure and seldom bothered with kisses, viewing them as a waste of time. This passion, their strong connection was almost overpowering. Drunk on passion, the lightheadedness gave him a better buzz than any liquor. Damn. It was just as addicting. In the back of his mind Robert knew this care would only last one night, but it would be a night worth remembering.
His client broke the kiss. “I want more of you,” he said in a low growl.
Robert’s heart thudded in his chest. Yes. Yes. Please.
The man ran the pads of his fingers across Robert’s swollen cock “I see you want more of me as well.”
“Yes, Sir.” Thankfully we have all night.


14th: Jena Wade and Heloise West

15th: Amelia Bishop and Mina Kelly

16th: Kimber Vale and Shiloh Saddler

17th: Eva Lefoy and Azalea Moone

18th: Dakota Trace, Jade Crystal, and Crane Hana

19th: JT Hall and ND Wylders

20th: Evelise Archer , Kate Lowell, and Skye Jones

Cover Reveal: Silk & Scorn by Cassandra Dean and Giveaway

I'm excited to let you know about Silk & Scandal by fellow Decadent Publishing author Cassandra Dean. It is an Early Victorian Sweet Romance. And you know I like my historical romance!

No matter how much their mothers wanted Sarah and Arthur to wed, Sarah had loathed him. However, circumstance and her late husband’s father conspire against her, and she is forced to turn to Arthur for help. Perhaps she needs his legal expertise, but she refuses to acknowledge how handsome her oldest foe has become…or her reaction to him.

His childhood nemesis is the last person Arthur Davenport expected to require his services. When a spurious claim against her late husband’s estate brings Sarah Wetherall to his door, he can’t refuse the pretty widow, no matter how much he wants to.

Thrown together by fate, will they discover there is a fine line between scorn and passion?

The Silk Series, Book 2

Early Victorian Sweet Romance

Coming 19 February 2014

Decadent Publishing


15 February, 1847. Mrs. Wetherall.

He stared down at the name. There was something familiar about it, but he could not recall what it might be. He shrugged. She was soon to appear, and any familiarity would be quickly established.

At that, the door opened and a woman who could only be Mrs. Wetherall swept in, an obscenely large hat obscuring most of her face. A gown of uncommon simplicity clothed her person, but for all the garment was simple, it was obviously well made, which suggested wealth.

Ah, well, no matter if he knew her name or not. A wealthy client was always welcome.

Dunn trailed behind her, his expression as eager as ever. “Mrs. Wetherall, sir.”

Arthur inclined his head. “Thank you. That will be all.”

“Right you are, sir.” The clerk bobbed his head and left, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.

Arthur turned his regard to the woman. Currently she studied his qualifications, hung on the wall along with the framed pictures his mother had given him for his birthday every year since he’d become a solicitor. “Mrs. Wetherall, good afternoon. Please, seat yourself.”

Her shoulders straightened infinitesimally but she didn’t respond, instead continuing to regard the wall.

Irritation tugged, but he suppressed it. Emotion would get him nowhere. “Mrs. Wetherall?”

With a sweep of her skirts, the lady and her hat settled into the chair before his desk.

Frowning, he sank to his own seat. That enormous hat was absurd, still disguising her face. Why did women think such things were attractive? In addition to being ludicrous, it no doubt put undue pressure upon her neck.

Lacing her hands in her lap, the lady finally spoke. “I find I require the services of a solicitor in regards to my late husband’s will.”

The hair at the back of his neck stood up. No. Oh, Christ, no.

The hat tilted, exposing her face. Every muscle in Arthur’s body seized.

Mrs. Wetherall, formerly Miss Sarah Stanhope and the bane of his childhood, glared at him from beneath her ridiculous hat.


About Cassandra :

Cassandra grew up daydreaming, inventing fantastical worlds and marvelous adventures. Once she learned to read (First phrase – To the Beach. True story), she was never without a book, reading of other people’s fantastical worlds and marvelous adventures.

Fairy tales, Famous Fives, fantasies and fancies; horror stories, gumshoe detectives, science fiction; Cassandra read it all. Then she discovered Romance and a true passion was born.

So, once upon a time, after making a slight detour into the world of finance, Cassandra tried her hand at writing. After a brief foray into horror, she couldn’t discount her true passion. She started to write Romance and fell head over heels.

The love affair exists to this very day.

Cassandra lives in Adelaide, South Australia.

You can find Cassandra at: ~ Cassandra and Lucy ~ Facebook ~ Twitter

Goodreads ~ Tumblr ~ Pintrest ~


Friday, February 14, 2014

House of Manlove Blog Hop

House of Manlove Blog Hop #flash #fiction 14th – 20th #MM #romance

House of Manlove badge
Above is the schedule for participating authors.
Be sure to check out my post on the 16th if you like M/M historicals!

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Fairies and Music - Daisy Banks Guest Blog

It is my pleasure to welcome Daisy Banks to my blog. She is on her Valentine Wishes blog tour. Can you believe it is already February? Soon it will be Valentine's Day. If you are looking for a romance read for the holiday I recommend hers!

Fairies and Music

As part of my Valentine Wishes blog tour each of my blogs is about fairies and elements of fairy lore. This post is about the link between the world of the fae and music.

A while ago while I was visiting the beautiful city of York, I had a bit of a revelation regarding the power and importance of music. I love music of all kinds and always have, but to be woken in the morning by the forceful sound of a single thumping drum beat as a drummer passed my window really made me think. The sheer power of that drum got me peering out of the window. The drum was an advert for a group of actors about to perform. They were literally, ‘drumming up custom’.

Today we are surrounded by music at the touch of a button, sadly when I’m out and about I find not all the music on offer is lovely, but it is still a part of our world. In the past music was a precious thing available rarely to ordinary people, apart from those who sang or played instruments at home. Music touched people in the past as it touches us now, but more so in my opinion because of its scarcity. This is what I think lead to the belief that the fairy folk made uncanny music of great power, and great danger to mortals.

Several tales tell of young men and women lured away from their homes and families by the sweetest music heard at twilight in the precincts of known fairy paths.

In the tales the young people often fall asleep to the sound of the compelling fairy musicians, some tales tell that these individuals awake in the world of the fae, or at a fairy court. Other tales tell of music lessons given to the mortals who become wonderful players and can’t bear to leave the land of fairy to return home.

There are stories of those who do eventually find their way back to their mortal home and discover to their horror many years have passed while they have lingered listening to fairy music in what seemed to them only one night.

Like so many things associated with fairies and their ways the music remains a mystery and something to lure our interest. I do know when I have been walking the hills it has been very easy to imagine the sound of fairy music as an accompaniment to the sunset.

Music plays a part in my story Valentine Wishes published by Liquid Silver Books is available on the 10th of February.

Music in the story helps set the scene for romance and magic. Here is a little snippet from the story to tempt you. I am also offering a giveaway today of my ghostly love story, Your Heart My Soul, to one randomly selected commentator on this blog.

“There yer are, I knew yer were here. I’ve been waiting for ye all night.” She spun around at the velvet caress of a voice she remembered so well. “No,” she squeaked.


Not possible.

Her stomach knotted and she wanted to crawl away and hide. His golden hair glinted in the glow of the colored lights and he smiled wide in greeting. She could hardly keep herself in the air. A wave of heat scorched her face.

“Poppy, ’tis me, Cedar Heartwood. Yer remember me, don’t ye, darlin’?” He flew a little closer, and she nodded as she sank down toward the lawn.

Her knees sagged.


I remember you…who couldn’t? You haven’t changed at all.

His eyes still entranced with hazel gleams. She ached to throw her arms around him, and as she steadied herself, she swept her gaze up to his face again. He still had the most enticing lips she’d ever seen.

Oh, by the wind in the leaves. How many hours did I sit among the daisies and wonder what it would be like to kiss him?

She shook herself, torn between long held hopes and tonight’s despair. He had to go, at least until later. “I can’t speak with ye now, Cedar. I’m busy.”

You can pre-order a copy of Valentine Wishes here and get an early bird discount.

You can find out more about Daisy Banks and her stories at the following places.

Twitter @DaisyBanks12