FMB Blog Tours and CS Maxwell ~ Where's My Muse
When I was a little girl, one of my favorite Christmas traditions was writing a letter to Santa. I didn't mail it; instead, I put it in my stocking for Santa to read when he came down the chimney on Christmas Eve. I believed that Santa's bag was magic, and he could pull out anything I wanted. Hmm... anything I want....
It's been a long, long time since my name has been anywhere near the nice list, so this year, I'm writing a letter from my naughty alter-ego, Trashy Writer.
Don't bother looking at your nice list for my name. You know where to find me. Thank you for the Kindle Fire you brought me last year. I knew being on your naughty list had benefits. (And I promise I won't tell anyone.)
This Christmas I would like:
1. My muse in nothing but a big red bow. No, that's what I asked for last year. (And I didn't get it!) This year I want him in beat-up jeans, dusty boots, and a black cowboy hat. Save the horse.... ;)
2. A really good bottle of scotch (and by good I mean $$) wrapped in a hot Scot in a short kilt.
3. My favorite morally ambiguous lawyer and his twisted best friend. Yes, both of them together. Those boys know how to make a girl the center of their attention.
(Are you detecting a theme here, Santa?)
4. A scary sexy hero with a dark, mysterious past and a scar or two he can tell stories about. And he doesn't need a lot of sleep.
5. Oh! And a football player. One with long blond hair and badass moves that give quarterbacks nightmares.
I think that'll keep me entertained until next Christmas. You must have a pretty good sugar buzz going by now, so there's beer in the fridge and a bag of chips in the pantry. Help yourself to whatever you want.
You didn't expect this to be a traditional holiday traditions post, did you? ;)
If I'd written a letter like that when I was a kid, my mother would've dropped a lump of coal in my stocking and set it on fire. My whole family wrote stocking letters, including my dad. He promised to leave Santa beer, too. Wait... my dad was Santa. Funny how that worked.
Will I get what I want from Santa this year? We'll see. But as long as I have my imagination and a quiet hour to daydream, I'll make my own holiday tradition magic.
Alex doesn't give a damn about rules. He knows how to play with fire without getting burned. It's just sex with Talia. No emotions means no attachments -- that's one rule he won't break.
Sometimes dirty little secrets are more dirty than secret.
Book Excerpt--(18+ and older)
"I had the weirdest dream." I snuggled closer to him, feeling his heart beat steady under my cheek.
His hand slipped between my thighs. I was still wet. "Was it about him?"
His heart beat faster against my side. "Be a good slut and tell me about it." He smiled. "Don't leave anything out."
The glimmer in his eyes made me wonder what he was hoping for. Alex had invaded my sleep before—even hotter than this one. Will liked hearing all the dirty details. Strange, but if it turned him on, what was the harm in telling him? Still, I never said Alex's name.
"I got up for a drink and he was in the kitchen."
"Were you naked?"
"Yes, but he wasn't. He pinned me against the wall and fucked me."
"Mmm... did you like fucking another guy?" The hand between my legs probed my wet flesh, and his fingers slipped inside me.
"Yeah." I smiled and sweat sprinkled my skin.
Will understood, like no one else ever had, my need for variety. I'd never been with anyone as long as I'd been with Will because... well, they soon bored me. He gave me free rein to flirt with anyone. I tried hard not to cross the line, but he never got mad, never showed any emotion at all.
Sometimes, he seemed to like it.
I dragged my mouth up his neck and flicked my tongue in his ear. "He made me come." I smiled on his hot skin, knowing my dream orgasms would make him hard.
"Um...." I stalled, teasing him. "Twice."
He kissed me, fucking my mouth with his tongue. "Was he fucking you both times?"
"No. The first time he was fingering my button."
His amused smile told me he liked my silly words for my girl parts. "And he fucked you after that?" He teased my pink flesh with his cock.
I gnawed my lip and buried my face against his shoulder, nipping it. "Yes."
"That's my girl." His cock slid inside me as his big hand cupped my ass and held my body against his.
My fingers tangled in Will's long hair and I kissed him, moaning into his mouth and trying not to remember how Alex's cock had felt in my dream. Would it feel that good in real life? No—don't go there.
Then I remembered something else—a new element in my dreams. What would Will think if he knew he was in it too? "You were watching us."
About the Author: I got hooked on trashy romance novels in junior high, but my mom took them away from me. She couldn’t stop me from daydreaming, though. After I got married, I wrote some of my naughtier daydreams down and sent them to Playgirl magazine, which published two of them. I kept daydreaming and writing stories until my dirty stories turned into trashy books.
I live in Colorado, but I’ll always be a loyal Wisconsin Cheesehead. When I’m not lusting after my next bad boy hero, I’m looking for inspiration in sci-fi and action movies, football players, bloodsucking lawyers, muscle cars, and kick-butt chicks.
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