Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

Tag: Accent Press

Emerald Fire

Today I have the pleasure of welcoming Naomi Smart, debut erotic romance writer, to my blog to talk a little about her novel, Emerald Fire.

Over to you Naomi..

One question that I tend to be asked about the lead female character Louisa in Emerald Fire is ‘Why portray a lead character with depression?’ and that is something I would like to touch on now.

Mental Health is a topic very close to my heart, and I have no problem in saying, that part of the reason I began writing was exactly for this reason. It became a form of therapy for me.

As much as I adore the idea of complete fantasy, and a picture-perfect world, I felt compelled to follow a different path when bringing Louisa to life.

I wanted Louisa to be someone that the reader could identify with. Someone who, like many of us, lives with a false perception of herself and often doubts her own strengths and affirmative qualities.

I wanted Louisa to not necessarily understand why she suffers these highs and lows, but rather, I just wanted to portray someone who lives with what can often be a rollercoaster on a day to day level.

So where does Evan factor into the equation, if we put the romance factor aside?

He is the person that Louisa feels she can say ‘Actually, I’m not ok’ to. Someone that she feels safe enough around to be able to drop the mask she is wearing.  The person who, although he cannot wave a magic wand and make things better, can offer Louisa the support that she needs and help her discover the strength she already possesses within.

Mental health, and bringing about further awareness of peoples struggles, is an important factor in today’s world. In creating a character like Louisa, my great hope is to further that awareness. If my book only helps one or two people understand, or perhaps even lets them be able to find the strength to say ‘You know what, I’m not ok’, then that in itself would be a great achievement.

In a way, Louisa helped me find strength. As she found hers, I too found mine. I hope she will help others to realise their own strength, too.



Louisa relives the events of the most important part of her life. Meeting the love of her life Evan, the fight to prove her strength, embarking on a flight of sexual desire, pleasure and liberation. Evan introduces Louisa to a completely different form of pleasure, anticipation and allure – a world where the line between pleasure and pain can easily merge into one. A world that Evan turned his back on some years ago in a bid to move on and block the past that haunts him. Until he meets Louisa and can no longer fight the urge to keep that door closed. Can Louisa find the inner strength to stop Evan running away from the past?

‘What a great debut novel! I found myself utterly entranced by the story and its three dimensional characters. I can officially say I’m hooked. The next book in this series can’t come soon enough…’ Alice Raine, best-selling author of The Untwisted Series

‘Erotic romance at its best… Reading Emerald Fire is like delving into an enormous basket of sumptuous delicacies. Naomi Smart is an exciting addition to the list of established authors published by Accent Press’s Cariad imprint.’ – Toni Sands, author of Orchid Pink

First title in an exciting BDSM contemporary romance trilogy that is perfect for fans of Sylvia Day, Meredith Wild and Alice Raine.


Buy Link


You can follow Naomi on Facebook via- https://www.facebook.com/NaomiSmartAuthor/ 


Many thanks Naomi.

Good luck with your trilogy

Kay x

Guest Post with Alice Raine: A Natter with Nathaniel Jackson

I have a great blog for you today. Alice Raine has dropped by- and we are to be privy to a confidential chat she had with the main character in her latest novella- Christmas With Nathan.

Over to you Alice- and Nathan…

It was by complete chance that I stumbled across Nathaniel Jackson last week whilst out in London, but I know how popular the handsome rogue from my Untwisted series is with you readers, so I thought I’d share a quick recount of what happened …

Christmas with Nathan

I was moseying around Soho enjoying some late September sunshine, when my eyes were caught by the sight of a rather fine pair of tan brogues to my right. The smart, manly shoes were attached to an equally fine pair of long legs reclining in a seat outside a cafe, and that was where my interest really caught, because I saw that the legs were encased in tailored pinstriped trousers. I love a man in a good suit, it’s one of my weaknesses (along with coffee, chocolate, and good red wine), so obviously I allowed my curious gaze to wander a little higher, and that was when I realised who I was rather indiscreetly ogling. Nathaniel Jackson, the blond sex god himself, and one of the two Jackson brothers whom I had based my Untwisted novels on.

It had been a while since I’d seen Nathan in the flesh, a little over eight months actually, when I’d interviewed both him, and his girlfriend Stella, to help give me some ideas for my upcoming seasonal novella “Christmas with Nathan.” Needless to say, he looked just as good as always; his blond hair was slicked back from his starkly handsome face with perfection, his suit appeared to be of the highest quality, and rather than covering his figure, the close fitting material merely acted to define the muscular body below it.

By this point my mouth was hanging slightly open in awe, I was most certainly flushed, and this of course, this was the exact moment that Nathan chose to look up and spot me. Marvellous. Seeing a small flicker of amusement twitch at the corner of his lips, I attempted to reel in my tongue and adopt a nonchalant stroll as I casually crossed the distance between us to say hello. I probably failed on all fronts.

‘Alice. It’s been a while.’ Nathan stood to greet me, his six foot something frame towering over me as he held out a hand.

‘Hi, Nathan.’ I was then gifted with one of his exceptionally firm handshakes, and rendered a little bit speechless. At that precise moment, with his warm palm gripping my shaky one, I couldn’t for the life of me think of one remotely useful, funny or casual comment to make. Not one. I had nothing. Which at my age was quite frankly ridiculous, but apparently the reaction that extremely handsome men caused in me, because I was the same every time I met him or his brother.

‘Join me.’ There was no request in those two briskly spoken words, they were a command, pure and simple. And even though I’d had no intention of joining Nathan what-so-ever, the authoritative way he instructed me to, caused my legs to buckle as I practically sank into the seat beside him.

Waiting for me to sit – collapse – Nathan then followed, elegantly folding his tall frame into the chair opposite with the utmost precision. Crossing his legs so that one ankle rested on the opposite knee, he then shook out his perfect suit sleeves to straighten his already perfect shirt cuffs, and revealed a flicker of a Rolex wrapped around his tanned wrist. Taking a moment to smooth down his waistcoat and flawless tie he finally nodded, seemingly satisfied, and then turned his attention to me. I was sat like a gawking idiot, completely enraptured with his preening display. Nathaniel Jackson was, and always had been, utterly fascinating to watch. Everything about him was refined, confident, and oozing with masculine virility.


Swallowing loudly, I nodded. ‘Please. Americano with milk on the side.’

As Nathan caught the attention of a passing server and placed my order I took the opportunity to try and gather my wits. If I’m honest, Nathan had always been the character in my books that most attracted me. His bedroom dominance was more than I would ever wish to partake in, but as far as looks, build, and enigmatic personality went, Nathan had it all down to a tee.

My coffee arrived, served by a waitress who looked just as flustered by Nathan as I currently felt, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and smirk at our pathetic responses to him. Adding milk I stirred my drink and finally dared a glance up at him. As expected, I was the sole focus of Nathan’s attention as he waited patiently for me to faff with my drink. Nathan’s crystal clear blue eyes were set with mine, well, not quite, in true Nathan style his gaze hovered somewhere around my cheek bones – he didn’t do eye contact with me, never had, although interestingly I’d noticed he was now far more comfortable with it when Stella was around.

‘So, how’s the Christmas book coming along? Did you get enough information from Stella and I when we last met?’ Nathan was simultaneously managing to look both relaxed, and fully alert at the same time, with his lithe body relining in the seat, but his spine somehow still rod straight. His right hand had lifted to his chin, the elbow resting on the arm of his chair, and the position pulled his jacket open slightly to reveal the tight fitting waistcoat below. There was something about a man in a waistcoat that really did it for me. To top off this already fine display of masculinity, Nathan then began to slowly rub his index finger across his lower lip. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was a contemplative look that I’d seen before on him, but god was it hot.

‘Uhh…’ I was being so incredibly unprofessional right now that I could barely believe it, so I quickly gave myself a mental shake, and made the effort to switch it up a gear and focus. ‘It’s going really well, thank you. It’s recently finished in editing and is set to be released on the 12th of November.’ Suddenly I remembered that I had a few spare paper copies in my laptop bag, so I bent to retrieve one and then slid it across the table to him. ‘This is a paper draft, but feel free to keep it.’

‘Thank you. With all your descriptions of my sordid sex life you’ve made me out to be quite the bad guy, Alice. I’m sure your readers were horrified by me.’ I nearly snorted out a laugh at his comment. Nathan clearly underestimated the appeal of his dominant nature to the opposite sex, because my readers had been anything but horrified by him. “Fascinated” and “attracted to” would probably be more apt descriptions.

‘Hardly. You have a very wide appeal and you know it.’ One of his perfect blond eyebrows rose high in his brow as he continued to stare across the table toward me, his finger still rubbing his lip distractingly.

Finally he gave a small, dismissive shrug. ‘I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.’ He murmured dryly, but I didn’t believe his excess modesty for a second, Nathaniel Jackson was a very handsome, incredibly attractive man, and he was very well aware of it. I was convinced that the reason he always regarded me with a look of barely concealed amusement was because he knew how much he affected me. He probably saw the same slightly overwhelmed expression on the faces of every woman he met.

Lowering his hand from his lip he drummed his fingers lightly on the closed cover of the manuscript. ‘Christmas with Nathan? That’s the title you chose?’ he gave a small snort and then rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not very inventive, is it?’

Feeling immediately defensive of my latest book – one of my favourites that I’d written to date – I drew in a breath and raised my chin stubbornly. ‘Actually, I think it’s rather perfect. The title lets the reader know exactly what they are going to get; a tale of you, and your many festive escapades.’

‘Escapades?’ Nathan made a small humming noise in the back of his throat as he considered my word choice, his lips still twitching in that marginally derisive way of his. ‘I suppose that’s as good a word as any to describe what I get up to in the bedroom. And out of the bedroom.’ He added, his words making me shift uncomfortably in my seat.

You might think that as an author of erotica I would be used to open discussions of sex, but I wasn’t, I still found it embarrassing. Nathan however, had no such difficulties, and had always been more than happy to gift me with full-on, rather graphic descriptions of exactly what got him off. Which I had discovered during our various interviews was quite a variety of things. In fact, the list was practically endless, not to mention decidedly deviant.

‘And did you include all of the festive escapades that we told you about, Alice?’ He enquired silkily, his eyes narrowing and smile growing darker by the second. ‘Even the ones that made you blush and squirm in your seat?’

God, he was such an utter bastard. Both the Jackson brothers, Nicholas and Nathan, were absolute terrors for winding me up. Ever since we’d agreed that I could interview them as inspiration for the Untwisted series they’d taken every opportunity to make suggestive, rude or smutty comments, just to embarrass me. And much to my shame, it worked every single time.

Unwilling to rise to his bait this time, however, I straightened my back and made my face as blank as possible. ‘Of course.’

Nathan’s blond brows shot up for a second, as his face registered genuine surprise, but he quickly reeled in his uncharacteristic show of emotion and instead nodded his head in apparent respect. ‘Even the night with the riding crop?’

As much as I’d wanted to stay calm and in control, his mention of the crop sent heat rushing to my cheeks as I recalled the interview back in January with himself and Stella. They had been giving me a recount of their Christmas festivities when they had shared the details of one particular scene to me. A night of passion that had involved no shortage of toys, cuffs and other kinky paraphernalia that Nathan favoured in the bedroom. By the time they’d finished their story the sexual tension between the two of them had been so thick that I’d felt very uncomfortable, and distinctly like a spare part. Needless to say, I had swiftly finished my notes and made a very hasty departure.

A loud swallow squeezed it’s way down my throat as I blinked back from the memory. ‘Uh … yes.’ My cheeks were now the colour of beetroot, but Nathan still looked decidedly unfazed. The bastard. ‘That scene is in the book. I … uh … I think the readers will like it.’

‘Good. I certainly enjoyed acting it out.’ God. The low tone of his voice was almost dripping with sexuality now, but clearly from the distant, slightly flushed expression on his face Nathan wasn’t thinking about anything but Stella right now. Given how detached and domineering he’s been when I’d first met him, he really had come a long way. Don’t get me wrong, he was still domineering, I think he always would be, but the genuine connection and love he felt for Stella was obvious, and incredibly touching. ‘Stella loved it too.’ He added, thoughtfully.

‘I loved what?’ hearing a sweet feminine voice behind my shoulder I turned to see Stella arriving by our table. She looked just as I remembered, fresh faced, sparkling eyes and with long blonde hair that reached the waist of her lithe figure. ‘Alice! I thought it was you!’ Stella greeted me enthusiastically, stopping me from standing up by leaning down and placing a kiss on each of my cheeks.

‘Hi, Stella. How are you?’ Being alone with Nathan was never an easy task, but with Stella’s arrival I immediately felt the tension leave my body.

‘Better now that I’ve finished all my errands for the day and get to spend the rest of it with my man. He’s taking me out to lunch.’ She announced, the smile on her face sweetly infectious. She was clearly just as besotted with Nathan as he was with her, and it was a rather lovely union to witness.

‘Sweetheart.’ Nathan’s greeting was practically a growl, and as I glanced across at him I could see that any discussions we had been having were over now that Stella had arrived. His eyes were burning as he stared at her, a look so intense I tried to absorb it so I’d be able to describe it in a future book. Unfortunately though, I think Nathan’s level of smouldering was so extreme that it might be indescribable in words.

Taking my cue to leave I rose to my feet and offered my seat to Stella. ‘No! Stay and have a drink with us, I can drag over another chair.’ She exclaimed, but I could see, and feel, that Nathan was getting impatient now, so I shook my head and smiled at her. ‘Actually I have to get going, but let’s meet for lunch soon, text me.’

‘Definitely. It’s been too long. Mind you, everything I say to you seems to end up in a book!’ she joked lightly, making me grin.

After saying a quick goodbye to them both I stepped away, but discreetly watched as Stella’s polite public demeanour slipped away as her eyes locked with Nathan’s and a small, secret smile slid to her lips. Her posture somehow opened to him, as if she were submitting to him right here on the crowded street, and the effect of her body language was immediately apparent on Nathan. He stood from his seat taking on a wide legged, cock sure stance, his figure unfurling to his full height as a possessive, love drenched grin spread across his lips. His face was now lit up properly for the first time since I’d sat down with him today. I then watched as he raised a hand and took a proprietary hold on the nape of Stella’s neck before pulling her into his embrace for a blistering kiss.

Watching as they melted into a heated moment together I smiled to myself, they really did make quite a spectacular couple; both so independent, and yet equally as dependant on each other to fulfil their individual needs. Feeling my cheeks heat as their kiss deepened further I turned away with a soft smile and set out on my journey home. Nicholas and Nathan might have caused me a few stresses during the writing process, but considering their troubled childhood both men had made such leaps in recent years, and I would forever be glad that I had chosen them to be the central characters in my first series.

Alice x

*This blog post is entirely fictional, as are the events and characters in it. It is written purely for entertainment purposes for fans of the Untwisted series*

Short teaser from Christmas with Nathan


Think very, very carefully, Stella, before you continue to scream at me,’ he warned, his tone low and deceptively soft, instantly sending a trail of goose pimples running up my arms. ‘Do you really think I would do the things you are accusing me of?’ he murmured ominously, his stance suddenly becoming far more imposing as he spread his legs and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

Gosh, he looked absolutely gigantic. I think I’d grown used to his muscular build – a result of his strict personal training – but tonight his arms looked thicker somehow, and his chest broader … could it be a trick of the shadows, the flicker of the Christmas tree lights? Or perhaps it was my heightened senses from our angry words that were making me really see him in all his glory. And he really was glorious. Even when he looked as irate and dissatisfied as he did, there was no hiding Nathan’s classically handsome features or impressive stature.

As stupid as it was, even though we were in the middle of an argument, this glimpse of his dominant side immediately flicked my switches and had me aroused within seconds. Gosh, the way his trousers hugged his thighs and groin when he stood like that was really quite spectacular and completely distracted me … why had I been yelling?…


Christmas with Nathan is available from the 12th of November, 2015. Purchasing links can be found here:

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Christmas-Nathan-Alice-Raine-ebook/dp/B014JHBDK0/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1445423288&sr=1-4&keywords=alice+raine

Amazon USA: http://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Nathan-Alice-Raine-ebook/dp/B014JHBDK0/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1445423288&sr=1-4&keywords=alice+raine

Alice raine

Connect with Alice:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AliceRaineAuthor

Twitter: @AliceRaine1

Website: www.aliceraineauthor.com


Many thanks for sharing such a great extract Alice,

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx


Guest Post from Alaina Drake: Erotic Romance: My Journey From Reader to Writer

I am delighted to be bringing you a brand new voice to the erotica world today. Alaina Drake comes to the writing world with an attitude that makes me shout ‘Yippee!’

Over to you Alaina..

Erotic Romance: My Journey From Reader to Writer

After I finished reading the latest craze in erotic romance one night, I slapped the book closed and slammed it on the bedside table. It went in the “don’t bother to read again” pile, a tall stack given I’ve read over five hundred erotic novels in the last few years. I stomped over to my husband, and with hands on my hips, I declared, “That’s it. I’m done!”

An amused smile spread across his face—he knew I was talking about my nightly reading. You see, I’d been telling him for months that I was getting tired of the waify virgins who saved the troubled, scarred heroes. I was tired of the random car crashes, the young women being stalked by the mafia for a silly reason, and the uber-possessive, crass men who the women inexplicably chose to “save” them. I was exhausted by the unfresh language, the inability to experiment and play with words to create the most compelling descriptions.

Then he pulled me onto his lap. “Why don’t you write what you wish you were reading?”

To that, I had no answer. Why didn’t I? I was a former English professor turned stay-at-home mom, so I was familiar with literature and the art of story-telling. But, I was constantly busy juggling all my responsibilities, and I didn’t really feel like I had a story to tell. Yet, I found myself exhausted by the ones that were already told.

I shrugged and went to bed, giving very little thought to writing my own. Weeks later, I was rocking my sick toddler, and somewhere between lucidity and sleep, my brain downloaded the first chapter of what would end up being Forbidden Touch.

AD - Forbidden Touch New

I called my husband at work to tell him he was taking our daughter on a date night that night because “mommy had to write.” There was this compulsion in me I’d never experienced before to tell the story of Beckett and Hannah, a story I hadn’t even realized my brain was working on.

That night, I wrote nearly five thousand words, and from that moment I was hooked. But I was adamant that the story I was going to tell would be different.

First of all, the characters would be divergent. The woman would be uninterested in commitment, confident, sometimes the aggressor. She wouldn’t be led around by her lust. She wouldn’t in her most lucid moments promise herself she wouldn’t go back to the controlling, frustrating hero only to do so in the next chapter at the first sight of his amazing washboard abs.

And my hero would be…gasp…nice! He’d be gracious, attentive, giving…oh, and he could also be smokin’ hot. He wouldn’t be troubled by his past, and my couple wouldn’t be playing the “I have more scars than you” game. In short, I wanted my characters to break the tropes I was sick of reading.

I also wanted my narrative to be different. I wanted to add a different voice to the genre of erotic romance. I wanted to bridge the gap between the cynics who called erotic romance nothing but “mommy porn” and the scholarly, literary roots of my past.

Was there a market for that? I didn’t know, but I really didn’t care.

Every night, after putting our daughter to sleep, I’d creep down to my desk to write. I pulled themes from some of my favorite literary works, Flaubert’s Madame Bovary and Milton’s Paradise Lost. I wove them into the love story of Hannah and Beckett so that next to steamy, erotic bedroom scenes are the more reflective, even philosophical, scenes where the characters learn about the deconstructed relationship between love, lust, and intimacy.

A D Blog tour list

I still remember to this day finishing my first draft of Forbidden Touch and hiring a professional freelance editor to look it over, a decision I will never regret. I wanted to know if what I was writing was even worth querying. (Isn’t it funny how self-conscious we writers are?) I knew I had my answer when one of her comments in the margins was, “Wow! You actually have some symbolism here!”

Why wouldn’t I? I thought to myself, and then I realized that much of what I’d read lately was sadly void of them.

But my story doesn’t end there. I queried some of my favorite presses. Some of them responded. Some didn’t. Some deemed it too literary. Too scholarly, and maybe it is for some readers. But since I believed in the story I was telling and the voice I wanted to use, I stayed the course. Then there were some, like Accent Press, who jumped quickly, untroubled by the literary bent that informs my themes.

“Are you at all worried that I will have to revise out the literature aspect?” I remember asking my soon-to-be editor before I signed. I had heard from some of my writer friends that sometimes presses will accept a manuscript only to require substantial changes after a contract was signed. So, I was worried that maybe in editing I would be encouraged to get rid of the meta-narrative and literature parallels and “get to the sex.”

I distinctly remember the weight lifting off my shoulders as my now-editor responded that she loved the literature aspect—that the literature was one reason why she wanted it. I’m sure a more genuine smile had never crossed my face than at that moment. I was relieved: someone understood what I was trying to do. She understood that there was more to erotic romances than ripping panties and sculpted pecs.

And I truly believe that if erotic romance is ever to be taken seriously, if it is ever going to be labeled anything else other than “mommy porn” or “smut,” if it is ever going to be considered “good writing,” the familiar, tired tropes must give way to fully-developed plots and thematic choices that question, challenge, and confront rather than simply entice.

Don’t get me wrong—that doesn’t mean that they can’t be hot. I love reading a smoking sex scene as much as anyone (you know, the ones that are so hot it makes you wake up your husband). But that can’t be all the novel is. The novel has to engage the mind too; after all, the brain is the biggest sex organ in the body. (Need proof? Please tell me I’m not the only one who makes up stories between the sheets).

Women’s fiction was marginalized even before the days of Jane Austen, who was criticized for writing only about women’s topics like parlors and love (like men never fall in love!). Now, though, she is canonized; in fact, in graduate school, I took an entire class that focused only on her writing. And given that postmodernism is allowing scholars to question and reinvent the traditional literary cannon, I hope that modern-day romances will be included.

I hope that a new wave of erotic romance can add new voices to a saturated market.

I hope that my voice is one of them to join that wave.

But no matter what, I will always return to my first love: I’ll always be a reader first. I will always read through the dozens of novels that make me slam the book closed in frustration just so I can get to the one that makes me want to run downstairs in the middle of the night and pen something just as powerful.


Blurb for Forbidden Love

Hannah Black saunters into the bar in her four-inch stilettos, intent on breaking her recent streak of bad dates and even worse sex. What she finds instead is sizzling hot doctor Beckett Stanton – but she doesn’t realize that he is the last man she should have chosen for her one night fling. While their views of sex and love polarize them, the attraction between them doesn’t allow either to turn away. The two play a dangerous game that tests both of their resolves, and when Hannah is given the chance to satisfy her needs, she is forced to make a decision – because the man with whom she wanted a no-strings-attached fling tugs at her heart in ways she never anticipated.


Mini Extract

…I walked into Beckett’s bedroom with the toys in my right hand. Beckett was lying in the middle of the bed with his arms folded behind his head and his feet crossed at the ankles. While I was in the bathroom, he had cracked the window open, allowing a crisp breeze to meander through the room. The nearly sheer curtains billowed gently every once in a while, signaling another draft that pebbled my nipples. The lit candle on the armoire next to the window filled the room with pumpkin spice and fall leaves.

When he saw I was completely naked, his gaze that ran up my body turned serious. Lines appeared on his forehead, and his lips turn rigid. Sitting up and holding out his hand, he commanded, “Come here.”

I shivered though my skin was overheated. Right knee, then left, I climbed onto the bed where he pulled me on top of him so I could feel his steel cock beneath his cotton pants. His hands bracketed my head as he pulled my lips to his. His long, fervent kiss ignited me. My hips rolled against his cock with a mind of their own, my clit seeking pressure and friction. He yanked his lips away and with an intense stare said, “Show me. Show me what you do under the covers when you think of me. Do you come more than once?”…


Buy links:

Here is a link to Amazon where the book can be purchased:

In the US:


In the UK:



Alaina Drake - Head Shot (2)

Alaina Drake discovered her love of writing in the fourth grade when she won her first young author writing contest. After attaining a bachelor’s and master’s degree in English Literature, she set out to write novels that combine her two loves: erotic romance and classical literature. She has taught literature and writing at both the high school and college levels, and when she’s not writing, you’ll find her watching sports, baking cookies, and, of course, reading way past midnight. She is an avid rock climber and former ballerina, and she finds a lot of connection between the two activities despite their obvious differences. She lives in Omaha, Nebraska with her husband and daughter. She loves to interact with her fans on Twitter, Facebook, and on her website where she blogs about writing, reading, and the everyday joys of motherhood.

Blog- www.alainadrake.com

Twitter: @alaina_drake

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Alaina-Drake-961360597218796/timeline/


Thank you ever so much Alaina- that was a brilliant blog. Even though you are many miles away over the ‘Pond’, you may be able to hear me cheering. Not so long ago I was informed by a mainstream UK publisher, that I’d never have any success with my erotica because I wrote too well- I was too literary, and wrote as though everyone in the world was intelligent! How insulting is that- not just to me, but the entire population!! With attitudes like that in high places, erotica as a genre has a fight on its hands.

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx

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