Lila’s Top Ten…Sexy Foods….
Thanks, for having me over today! I thought I’d share a bit about me today rather than bore everyone with one of my lessons in writing. J Sexy foods anyone?
My idea of a sexy thing doesn’t necessarily embody what most would consider sexy…you know dark and lush and completely sinful. My list does involve a few standards, but I think you’ll be surprised what else I find decadent…tasty…sexy.
Before I get started, I’ll tell you a bit about how I came up with my list. Several months ago I was asked what I thought was the sexiest room in the house other than the bedroom. Without a second’s pause I immediately replied, “The kitchen.” Why you might ask? Because to me it’s the heart of the home where nurturing takes place…and that’s sexy. It’s also sensual, and if I might say it lends to a completely submissive frame of mind in and of that is where you can care for someone, give yourself up to them in a pleasing way, in a non-sexual way. I love to cook and when I know I’ve pleased my husband by feeding him something that satisfied him on not just a purely nutritional level…that makes me a very happy woman…
So here goes…Lila’s top ten sexy foods…
Number ten: Fondue. Yes you read that correctly. What’s more fun than gooey cheese or drippy chocolate that you can feed each other?
Number nine: Cheesecake. Need I say more? I mean come on…it’s lush and decadent and feels so good on the tongue…yum!
Number eight: Oysters. I live on the east coast…yes, it is true what they say. I’ve never been disappointed yet after one or a dozen.
Number seven: Strawberries. What’s not to love? Sweet, juicy goodness on a stem that can be rubbed across…
Number six: Chocolate. Yes, a standard, but this stuff is just pure sin in any form. Would you not agree?
Number five: French fries. J I can hear you all right now…What? Okay, this one comes from a friend who tells me one of the most romantic moments with her husband involved French fries…I believe her. J
Number four: Pasta, specifically spaghetti and meatballs. Why? Because of Lady and the Tramp, that’s why…and that’s my husband’s and my movie…I know a hopeless romantic.
Number three: Comfort food. See I told you I was outside the box. What says love more than a plate of fried chicken, mashed and gravy, and a big fluffy biscuit? I think it’s a sexy way to feed my man after a hard day’s work and it keeps up his strength for other things…
Number two: Pizza. When I first met my husband I was working horrendous hours and he was an instructor. Dinner time was not a joy and sometimes didn’t exist. It was the sexiest thing for him to bring home a pizza and feed me…see this erotic nourishing runs both ways. J
And, the number one sexy food for me: Wedding cake. There is nothing sexier than sharing that first piece as man and wife…sometimes I buy a cute little cake just because I can and have it with my husband along with a glass of bubbly—also sexy by the way…
Lila Munro currently resides on the coast of North Carolina with her husband and their two four-legged kids. She’s a military wife with an empty nest and takes much of her inspiration for her heroes from the marines she’s lived around for the past fifteen years. Coining the term realmantica, she strives to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. Her genre of choice is contemporary romance that spans everything from the sensual to BDSM and ménage. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading everything she can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Her works include The Executive Officer’s Wife, Bound By Trust, Destiny’s Fire, Salvation, Three for Keeps, the Force Recon series, the Slower Lower series, and the Identity series. She’s a member in good standing of RWA and Passionate Ink. Currently she’s working on sequels to several series to be released throughout 2012. And has a brand new line scheduled for winter 2012-13. Ms. Munro also works as the VP of Business Affairs for Rebel Ink Press. She loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted via her website http://realmanticmoments.blogspot.com or through Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/Lila_Munro You can also contact her via email at lilasromance@gmail.com For more information about Rebel Ink Press please visit their website at www.rebelinkpress.com
Assumed Identity
Innocent childhood games of dress-up and pretend…
Julie Stevens is as straight as they come. Or so she tries to convince herself. But it isn’t easy believing that little white lie when she has the two most sexually eccentric best friends on the planet. One is a bi-sexual Domme who believes if it looks fun, try it. The other is a gay man in the role of slave to his very sexy Master whom Julie often wishes wasn’t gay. Dante’s commanding presence makes her want to do things that set her on fire with need and embarrassment. Given her boring vanilla life, how exactly does she fit into their world? Would they like to have a shinier third wheel?
Are a completely different animal for grownups…
After one wild evening and a bit too much liquid encouragement, Julie discovers a side of herself she’s always tried to ignore. The realization she’s a sub not only scares her, it excites her and she yearns for more. But the process of finding the right man to teach her becomes a real issue, until Mason comes along. He’s everything Julie imagines a Dom should be. Armed with her masque and Renaissance costume, Julie is thrown for a loop when the handsome Master draws more willingness out of her than she ever thought possible. Is it possible she’s more than a submissive? And will the assumptions he’s made about her identity end up tearing them apart?
“Are you wet, angel?” Mason asked, running one hand down the middle of her back. Her intake of breath told him she was and that she didn’t want to admit it. “Answer me. Now.”
“Yes,” she whispered over a whimper.
Covering her body with his, Mason leaned over her and gently took her by her hair. “Tell me what you need, angel.”
Silence. Sniffling. Muffled moans.
“Julie. Tell. Me. What. You. Need.”
“Sex.” Her voice was barely audible.
“No. That’s what you think I want. I know what I want. You’re to free your mind of thoughts concerning what you think I want.” Mason pushed back up and began moving one hand over her back in a soothing pattern. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need…I…Don’t make me…”
“Say it.”
“I need to come,” she whined.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Now tell me what you want.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Yes, you do. Tell me,” he growled.
“I want you to make me come,” she gushed, arching her back into his constant touch.
“I’m going to do just that, angel,” he spoke harshly, leaning back over her and taking a handful of hair, raising her head enough he could nip her earlobe. “Tell me you understand.”
“I understand.”
“When’s the last time you had an orgasm?” She started to answer and he cut her off. “With a man?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Shame on them,” Mason told her.
He stood and while keeping one hand on her lower back letting her know he was still present, he unbuttoned his jeans then unzipped them slowly, adding to her agony by being forced to listen to the click of each tine popping open. Scooting his pants down his legs along with his boxers, he stepped out of them and when his hand left her so he could sheath himself, Julie grunted in frustration.
“Get on your back on the bed,” he said as he finished rolling the condom down. She needed the visual contact even if she couldn’t see anything but shadows and reflections.
She hesitated, looked behind her as if trying to determine if he was baiting her or not, then turned and backed across the mattress before lying down with her legs spread and her arms at her sides, her eyes tightly squeezed shut. So clinical, as if she expected to be used as a vessel. Who the hell had she been with before and what the hell had they done to her to make her think sex was about lying like a dead fish while the man got what he wanted? Then he remembered what she’d been like at the party, after he’d caught her in the chase.
She was carefree and happy, not at all a dead fish beneath him. As he’d lain on her in the garden, she was vital and eager. Mason believed she’d have done anything he asked of her she was so pliable…She’d been Hayden. Not Julie. She’d not just been dressed for the party. She was literally hiding behind her masque.
A bit of anger and sorrow wound around Mason’s state of arousal and squeezed him as he realized she had to assume an identity to feel. Then he was almost ashamed at the bit of happiness that crept in at the realization that she was not only fresh and new to his world but actually, she was like putty in his hands. She was ready to be molded into the person she was perfectly capable of being. He could be the one to show Julie how good it really could be, not just physically, but emotionally as well. For tonight though, she needed a safe haven, a place where she could turn her fears into dancing.
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