Today I’m welcoming Jennifer Lynne, author of Platinum Passion, an Erotic Romance genre novella that is a MUST read or add to your TBR list. She is guest posting, providing an excerpt from the book and giving away a digital copy of the book to one lucky commenter. You have through 11:59pm EST on 01/01/2012 to enter via the Rafflecopter widget at the bottom of the post
[box] Three people. One erotic fantasy. And a twentieth wedding anniversary like no other.
Jeannie yearns for the return of passion in her marriage. Jake wants new excitement in the form of another man, in a way that won’t upset the balance of his relationship with his wife. Pothos is one of the erotes and an aspect of Eros, the Olympian god of desire. On the last night of winter this couple’s distinctive yearning has called to him, and by the power of the erotes he intends to rekindle the flame of Jeannie and Jake’s passion in a night of desire that could be the ultimate platinum anniversary gift.
And when the gods of love decide your marriage needs a boost, they never do it by halves.
Thank you to Hesperia Loves Books for having me here today. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, and now have some exciting (and achievable) resolutions prepared for your New Year’s Eve celebrations.
According to my research on ancient Greek mythology, the Olympian gods and goddesses were more likely to celebrate solstice than the new year. In 2011, the solstice fell on 21st June, and 22nd December. So it was only a few days ago that, depending on where you live, you experienced either the longest or the shortest day of the year (longest for me as I live in Australia, but shortest for those of you in the northern hemisphere).
Ancient Greek mythology and the changing of the seasons plays a central role in my erotic romance series, Gods of Love, and I can tell you, it was fun to research. There is so much intrigue and passion in the lives of those gods and goddesses – especially so around the time of the winter solstice, apparently, when festivals including wine and sex were designed to ward off the darkness. Endless fodder for an erotic romance writer!
In most myths there are different versions from which to pick and choose, and researching the gods of love was no exception. I discovered a group of gods, known as the erotes, who were purported to be the children of Aphrodite, the Olympian goddess of love and sexuality who was born from the foam of the sea. Eros, the god of desire, was possibly their father or one of their brothers. But the belief that resonated best with me was that the erotes were aspects of the primal god, Eros. I like the idea that love is so complex that it can only be personified across several beings.
So who are the erotes? Pothos – the god of sexual yearning, Himeros – the god of sexual desire, and Anteros – the god of requited/unrequited love. These are the heroes of Gods of Love, a series of stand-alone novellas with the erotes as a common theme.
Of course, as a woman, I also love the idea that the greatness of Eros and the erotes stems primarily from their mother, Aphrodite. Her influence is evident throughout the Gods of Love series. But my celebration begins in Platinum Passion with my gorgeous hero, Pothos, who represents the aspect of sexual yearning.
“Oh, Pothos,” she moaned, fumbling for the fastening on his jeans. “I want…” Her voice broke. What did she want? Jake, her familiar, dark-haired husband of twenty years? Most definitely. And Pothos, the golden-skinned Adonis who had seemingly materialized straight off the cover of a romance novel, clearly a manifestation of everything she was missing in her life right now?
Yes, God help her. She wanted him, too.
But somehow, it wasn’t quite enough to have one without the other.
She stopped trying to unfasten his jeans and rested her cheek against his chest, enjoying the hardness and the heat. Turning slightly, she inhaled the delicious aroma of his skin. Different to the clean citrus smell of her husband, Pothos smelt exotic and sensual. Not quite musk, not quite spice, but altogether it was heady and enticing.
“Like someone bottled pheromones and sprayed you with it,” she muttered, wanting to bury herself deeper in his embrace.
“You like it, of course,” he said, and now it was Jeannie’s turn to laugh, at that supreme confidence. “I love it,” she admitted, and at her words the aroma intensified around her, as if she were immersed in a sensual river, almost drowning in pleasure. Her knees buckled as erotic images began to assail her. Images of herself crammed between Jake and Pothos, the three of them somehow entwined on the sand, moaning and rutting and taking it in turns to love each other in the silvery light of the moon.
That’s what I want, she thought, and the ferocity of her longing had her hands reaching up to fist in his hair. “Can you bring Jake here, too? I want you both.”
“Good,” he said, voice rough with desire. “That is how it should be. The three of us, sharing a platinum night of passion. Together.”
His decadent words sent a delicious shiver across her skin, but before she could respond Pothos bent down to grasp the bottom of her nightgown and rip it up and over her head. Moments later and those cotton panties were gone too. She stood naked in front of him as he threw the underwear aside, but strangely, she felt no embarrassment. A light breeze tickled her flesh and puckered her already aching nipples. Pothos reached out one finger and lightly grazed one of the expanding nubs. “Beautiful,” he said, and now his voice had a deep huskiness. “Jake should see you like this. Bathed in moonlight and sensuality.”
His finger left her breast and traced the rest of her body in a delicate caress, skimming across ribs moving rapidly as she struggled to breathe evenly, down through the curve of her waist and over her abdomen to rest, feather-light, at the very top of her slit. Her mons was bare except for a tiny heart shape of hair right where Pothos’ index finger now rested. She’d had the Brazilian last week, leaving the heart in a display of whimsy and hoping Jake would enjoy the new look.
But he hadn’t even noticed.
Unlike Pothos, who now had a crooked little grin on his face as he traced around the heart.
“A genuine blonde,” he said.
She nodded in a distracted fashion. She was finding it more and more difficult to draw a breath. Her gaze fell to his jeans, the denim now clearly stretched to its limit across his groin. Not fair that he should still have clothing on, while she stood here dressed in nothing but her pussy heart.
“Would you…please…remove…?” She reached out a trembling hand to touch his straining bulge, and his intake of breath was audible. She enjoyed the momentary power, mimicking his fingertip exploration of her body to trace up the shape of his penis, over the ripped abdominal muscles and then down again, taking pleasure in the increasingly irregular pattern of his breathing.
So this…god of love, or whoever he was, could be moved by desire, too.
She fumbled again for the fastening on his jeans, but he shook his head, then stepped back to remove his clothing in a fluid movement that was far quicker than she’d have been able to achieve with her shaking hands.
His cock sprang free and she gasped at the enormous size and inherent power in his organ. Pothos was longer and wider than Jake, but not unduly so, as her husband was rather well- endowed. But it was not only his erect appendage that had her eyes wide and her whole body aching for sex. Though his shoulders were built for power his body tapered down in a long, lean arc to narrow hips, and as he turned toward the water for a moment she got a view of tight buttocks and impressively muscled thighs.
Had he done that twirl on purpose? So that she’d see and appreciate the perfection of his body from every angle?
Yes, she decided, as he glanced back at her over his shoulder and grinned boyishly. He most certainly had.
“Nice butt,” she managed, in the understatement of the century, but it was worth it to see the affronted look on his face.
“Very nice, in fact.”
He moved so fast she only had time for a quick yelp before he was standing over her, gripping her shoulders. The head of his organ was almost, but not quite, touching her stomach, and she could feel the radiant heat leaching out from its proximity. “Nothing about me is nice, Jeannie.”
Jen is a multi-published author who writes sensual and erotic romance from her home in Melbourne, Australia. She lives in hope that readers will continue to enjoy her novella-length tales of love and lust! Find her on the web at:
To celebrate the New Year (or perhaps more accurately – the recent solstice!), I’m giving away a digital copy of Platinum Passion. All comments on this post between now and New Year’s Day 2012 will be entered in the draw. So tell me, do you celebrate New Year’s Eve, and if so, how? If not, what special dates in the calendar or seasons do you celebrate?
[author] [author_image timthumb='on']http://www.hesperialovesbooks.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/73872_1419552338252_1515964016_30876331_2312237_n.jpg [/author_image] [author_info]I read to save my sanity, plain & simple. I am a married mother of 3 (2 of which are teenagers, yay me!) who needs an escape from the eye rolls, attitude and day to day drama that comes along with raising teenagers. Without books, I would be medicated [/author_info] [/author]
I read to save my sanity, plain & simple. I am a married mother of 3 (2 of which are teenagers, yay me!) who needs an escape from the eye rolls, attitude and day to day drama that comes along with raising teenagers. Without books, I would be medicated ;)