Thursday, April 24, 2014


This is what happened on Tuesday
Earth Day 2014

A:  How you doing?  (She entered the office)  Well? (She walked deeper into the office, dressed in a sweater with a leaf pattern, Capri's with badly iron-on silk leaves.  The pants, for some unknown reason, had the front zipper pulled down revealing Superman panties, and a crown of flowers on her head.  She crunched down on a asparagus stem... chewing with her mouth open)
Z:  Sporting wood.  (He bounced his eyebrows and pointed to her zipper at which point she pulled it up)
A:  (She shook her head since nothing Zi ever said stunned her... anymore)  Wood?
Z:  (He handed her a short oak branch)  I think I'll make something out of it.  Save the planet... love your wood.
A: Earth Day just passed.  What did you do?
Z:  (He gave her a second look and noticed the flowers were real and a green-white worm was nestled in one of the buds, then he ignored it.  This wasn't the strangest outfit Ang ever sported)  I wrote a short called, Arbor Day is Earth Day But.
A: Can I read it?  (The worm dropped out of the flower without her noticing.  One of the dogs ate it.  She plucked one of the flowers from her crown and since Zi didn't have a lapel, put it in his hoodie pocket)
Z:  (He sneezed)  What will you trade me for it?
A:  What do you want?
Z:  Metaphorically... to boldly touch the world.
A:  (A snigger slowly gripped her expression) I'll let you touch my phone.
Z:  Deal!  (He snapped that word out quickly.  In the convoluted mind of Zi he knew that she kept her phone in her bra and that meant getting close to her boobs... wearing a sweater meant either under or lifted... he radiated like a twelve-year-old about to play Seven Minutes in Heaven)
A:  (She read)
“Jimmy called me a tree hugger.  And he made me feel bad by saying so.  Is it wrong to want to protect nature?” asked Sunshine of her mother.

Mrs. Matters smiled and replied, "No dear."

"Thank you," retorted Sunshine, "I knew I was good on this one."

“Tree hugger.  Tree hugger.  Woodchuck hugger.  Slimy eel in the stream hugger.  Math book hugger.  Earth hugger.    You’d hug anything,” teased Ronny.

“And you’d hug Janey.  Grant said…,” started to report Sunshine but she was interrupted by her brother’s steely look and dissuading grimace.

Their mother noticed the exchange.  “Enough.  Stop the sibling push you and push me."  Their mother corrected with word and look.  "The idea of being a tree hugger in itself not a wrong thing.  Though the ecology bullies out there have from time-to-time gone far too far, thus they have hurt their cause.  I strongly believe we have to protect this planet and fall on the side of the conservationist.  Trust me it is very  difficult balancing between environment and progress.”

“So we as a family are tree huggers?” asked Ronny.

“Maybe.  Maybe not.  We do our part.  We recycle.  Volunteer to clean up roadways and the waterways.  Try not to pollute. And every Arbor Day we plant a tree,” said their mother.

“Arbor Day?  Is that a real holiday?” asked Ronny looking at his sister who shrugged her shoulders.

“You have asked the right person.  I have a couple answers.  Want the story?”  She sipped her coffee and eyed her children for responses.

The two children snapped back  that they did.


"Sure."  The two insisted.

“Arbor Day is generally observed the last Friday of April.  Why then you might ask.  That would be the best time for tree planting.  Now, each state has selected a specific date to observe this holiday.  But as I said, generally it is the last Friday in April.”

“Where did it begin?” asked Sunshine.

“Nebraska.  In the 1800s,” she said as she opened a book she had pulled from the shelf, “Here we are.  January 4, 1872, J. Sterling Morton.  I wonder if he was the salt man.  Morton proposed to some authority in Nebraska a tree-planting holiday calling it Arbor Day.  At that time Nebraska was in need of trees for many reasons.  Wind breaks, building supplies, comfort and more.  April 10, 1872 it was accepted.  In 1874, two years later, the state officially proclaimed it as a day to observe.  The story continues in that in 1885 it became a legal holiday and was then changed to April 22, which happened to be Morton’s birthday.  Nice honor.”

“So how was it celebrated?”

"Maybe by hugging Grant," tickled Ronny.  "Snuggie...snuggie."

Sunshine slapped at her brother.

“I suspect that most people who celebrated would plant trees.  But I once read that it grew and many small towns would have parades and picnics.  Schools would plant trees as a project.  Many towns would put plaques on those trees recognizing the specific classes.  Spring is a great time and probably any excuse to have a picnic is a good excuse to have a picnic.”

“When will we be going on a picnic?”

“When do you want to go?”

“Today.”  Sunshine's eye bolded.

“It is a little too cold, so we could lay out a blanket on the kitchen floor.  Dad will love it.  We can plan it for this evening.  Chicken and salad.”

“Chicken.  Salad.  Fruit. Drinks.”

“That is a lot to do.  You will have to help.”

“Done,” the two echoed.

“Let me add a couple of things since I have this book here. After most states began to observe this holiday a greater respect for our natural environment began to grow.  On April 22, 1970, an American public who was driven by environmental concerns changed the day to ‘Earth Day’.  A national celebration.  The hope was to expand the concern to all things having to do with healthy conservation.  In 1990 on the Mall in Washington D.C. there was another gathering, the second, of people to celebrate ‘Earth Day’.  This was to bring to the forefront of thinking that we as a people must respect our planet.  Arbor Day is not  Earth Day yet, yet, has been at least twice.”

“We should not pollute,” insisted Sunshine.

“Tell that to some of your friends.  I hear they think it is funny to throw their trash on the ground,” Said Ronny.

"I could.  I will," confirmed Sunshine.  "It is everyone's Earth, so everyone should protect it."

"Good luck.  Some people are just creeps.  They act like they have a certain stamp of approval to do whatever they feel.  How rude!"

“Ronny it is quite difficult to police the world.  You should not pressure your sister to do so.  We all try to set the best example.”  She washed some apples and set them on the counter.

“I guess I understand.  Every once in a while when I do something, like pick up  something I found and throw it into a waste can, I get razed by my friends.  They act as if I am being foolish or un-manlike.  I hate the term goodie-goodie.  But I understand,” said Ronny.
"Ignore those who scorn.  You are doing the correct thing."

"Can we spell... that's tough?"

His sister began, "T-h-a-...," but was interrupted.

“Trust me.  You are doing the best thing.  And these pain-in-your-values naysayers know you are doing the best thing.  They know.  They in some small way don’t like that you’ve wagged it in their face, thought of it first, or assumed that they were not as concerned.  Smile and include them.  Never bend your values to please others.  If you do later, you will be sitting alone and not like that about yourself.  Be true to your values and accept the consequences.”

“That can be tough.”  Ronny's eyes reflected an honest crick of agony.

“Reply with a jeu d’esprit,” said his mother.

Sunshine and Ronny giggled.

“And that would be what?” asked Ronny.

“A jeu d’esprit is a witty comment.  It's French.  It is literally translated as a play of the mind.  Joke ‘em.”

“I could.”

“So do it.  Humor could bond them to the moment.  If they laugh then they have a more pleasant sensation around the circumstance.  So if they dog you about throwing your papers in the trash, do the reverse-pivot-over-the-shoulder-oh-my- goodness-did-you-see-that-shotity-shot basketball thing.  Make a fun thing out of it.  Joke 'em.  And you’ve helped them embrace the depth of your passion.  But... fight and they will fight back.  Guaranteed. Ignore them and they will relentlessly pursue you.  Trust me.   But make it a fun moment and they will eventually join you.  Humor is the best fertilizer to grow healthy treeeemendous moments.”

“You are being corny Mom,” said Sunshine.  She drew a picture.

“Who will peel the potatoes?”  Mrs. Matters asked.

“I’ll do it,” reacted Ronny.

A:  It was nice and sweet.  I liked it.  You write sweetly.
Z:  So can I touch your phone?
A:  Absolutely.  A deal's a deal.
Z:  (He smiled that cat-ate-the-canary smile which flew off his face when she handed him the phone)

We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane - -

Cover Reveal for Silvia Violet's If Wishes were Horses

I have to admit Silvia Violet has always had some amazing covers for her stories and her upcoming release, If Wishes were Horses, is no exception....take a look at the cover below and check out the story that is sure to knock you breathless.

If Wishes were Horses
Cover Artist: LC Chase
Publisher: Self-Published

If wishes were horses then you'd be able to trust the man your heart desires.  

Kenneth Carver had everything growing up except warmth and acceptance. When protecting his family’s name became more than he could bear, he came out as gay, sold his company, and bought a horse ranch.

Andrew Wofford's last undercover assignment nearly cost him his sanity. Now he has another chance of catching the drug runner who killed one of his informants and then escaped, but gruesome flashbacks threaten his ability to function in the field.

Andy’s latest investigation sends him to Ken’s ranch where he poses as a ranch hand. Ken is a prime suspect, but Andy refuses to believe Ken is guilty, in part because Andy is falling for him. Ken knows Andy isn’t who he seems, but he can’t bring himself to push the man away. When Ken hears rumors that someone is using his land to move drugs out of the city, he worries that it’s Andy.  

Neither man can trust the other even though that’s exactly what their hearts tell them to do.

Tour Stops:

About the Author

Silvia Violet writes erotic romance in a variety of genres including paranormal, contemporary, sci fi, and historical. She can be found haunting coffee shops looking for the darkest, strongest cup of coffee she can find. Once equipped with the needed fuel, she can happily sit for hours pounding away at her laptop. Silvia typically leaves home disguised as a suburban stay-at-home-mom, and other coffee shop patrons tend to ask her hilarious questions like "Do you write children's books?" She loves watching the looks on their faces when they learn what she's actually up to. When not writing, Silvia enjoys baking sinfully delicious treats, exploring new styles of cooking, and reading to her incorrigible offspring.

Author Links:
Goodreads page:

Giveaway Information: Enter the raffelcopter below to be entered to get an Advance copy of If Wishes Were Horses (2 days before general release)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Talking with author Lucy Felthouse

Chocolatey Inspiration from Stately Pleasures by Lucy Felthouse

Then she walked over to the enormous trestle table in the centre of the room – noting the fact that all the usual props had been removed – and sat on its edge, before twisting her body and swinging her legs up onto its surface. Now she shuffled as gracefully as possible – which wasn’t very – to the middle of the table and lay down.
Without moving her head, she looked as best she could to where the men still stood at the edge of the room. She hadn’t been reprimanded or ordered to move, so she figured she’d got it right. Her suspicions were confirmed when Ethan moved closer with a length of rope in his hand. He then walked up towards the top of the table and was lost from sight. Soon, she felt tiny movements in the table as Ethan secured the rope to one of its legs, before wrapping the other end around her wrist and tying it securely. He checked to make sure she was comfortable before repeating the process three more times on her remaining limbs.
Now she lay spread-eagled on the enormous table and she could hardly feel more exposed. Her pussy was splayed open, her tits bobbed on her chest with every breath she took, and she couldn’t do a damn thing to cover herself up. Not that she really wanted to, anyway.
No, all she wanted was for the men to touch her. And she knew that was going to happen soon enough.
The clink of metal jolted her from her thoughts, and in her peripheral vision she could see Ethan and Jeremy approaching, carrying enormous silver trays. Ethan disappeared from her view; she guessed he was walking around the table to reach her other side. She hadn’t been told not to, so she turned her head and saw her guess was correct. Now there was a man on either side of her. Their trays were held aloft, so she couldn’t see what they carried. It was food of some description – she knew that much – but she didn’t know exactly what. She hoped it wasn’t something disgusting, like caviar or snails.
Milliseconds later, the rich scent of chocolate hit her nostrils and she felt a lot better. Chocolate she could handle. The only downside to this task was the fact she’d rather the roles were reversed – she would much rather be licking and sucking chocolate from Jeremy and Ethan’s bodies, and she’d bet her last pound any other straight female who met them would feel the same. Unless they didn’t like chocolate, in which case they were crazy anyway.
‘Close your eyes, Alice.’ Ethan murmured, and she did as he asked. She had no reason not to, after all. She trusted him. Trusted both of them.
Now she relied on her other senses to tell her what was happening. Her ears picked up the pinging of cutlery. She could still smell the chocolate, and ohhh, now she could feel it being drizzled over her breasts. They’d melted it, and were pouring it over her body. The sensation was ticklish – as well as incredibly sensual – and she did her absolute best not to move. She didn’t want to spill any of the confectionery from her curves – she wanted every last drop to be licked or sucked off by a warm, wet mouth.
Some clanging and scraping noises were audible, and then Alice got her wish. As if they’d signalled to one another, both men closed their mouths over one of her nipples at the same time.
She gasped. Her sense of touch – or, rather, feel – was in overdrive. Lips on her tits, hands stroking her thighs, cooling chocolate trickling down the sides of her breasts … It was heaven. Soon, chocolate wasn’t the only thing trickling towards the table – her pussy was wet and ready, eager for a tongue, fingers, or, even better, a cock. Juices seeped from her core and gravity did its job, leading them down her arse crack and onto the wooden surface beneath her.
But it seemed Jeremy and Ethan had more teasing in mind before she’d get the touch she wanted; no, needed. Once they’d laved her skin clean of the sweet goo, they grabbed their bowls and spoons to repeat the process, trickling it over her boobs, stomach and thighs. They’d obviously decided to use it all up on her skin before it solidified in the bowls.
Alice writhed on the table – no mean feat given how tightly she was restrained – as the sensations swarmed through her body. She’d given up on trying to stay still – it was just impossible. Then Jeremy and Ethan began licking and sucking once more. Jeremy clambered up onto the table and knelt between her legs, bending down to clean the sauce from her thighs and lower abdomen. They’d deliberately not allowed any to get onto her pussy – either because they were concerned about the health implications, or because they knew how much it would drive her crazy to lick and suck all around the area without actually touching it. It was probably a combination of both.

This sexy chocolate scene seems to be a popular one, especially amongst chocolate fans, you won’t be surprised to hear! My ideas rarely come to me fully formed—I just get a snippet of something, and then when I actively start thinking about it, other bits and pieces come to the fore in my mind. That’s how this scene came to be. I visit an awful lot of stately homes and love to explore them—the more rooms open to the public, the better, in my opinion. I always find the servants’ quarters and kitchens fascinating—they’re so different from the parts where the rich, aristocratic families would spend time.

I’ve seen a fair few areas where large, sturdy-looking trestle tables take over a great deal of a room, and when I started planning this novel I thought it would be nice to feature one such table. Then I had to think about exactly what would take place on this table, and how... so now you know! This delicious chocolate-body-painting scene is kinky, erotic and certainly needed a strong table. Thank god for public access to stately homes!

Happy Reading!
Lucy x



Alice Brown has just landed her dream job. Property manager at Davenport Manor, a British stately home. It’s only a nine-month contract to cover maternity leave, but it’s the boost up the career ladder she so desperately needs.

Unfortunately, things don’t get off to the best start, when Alice finds her boss, Jeremy Davenport, in a compromising position. Far from being embarrassed by what’s happened, Jeremy turns things around on Alice and makes her out to be the one in the wrong. So when he and his best friend and head of security, Ethan Hayes, then throw an ultimatum at her, she’s so stunned and confused that she goes along with their indecent proposal.

When the dust settles and Alice has time to think about things, though, she realises that perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing. There are worse things she could be doing to advance her career, after all.

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: