C Margery is no stranger to HoF, as she's visited many times to promote her books, including the very popular Man City Series (Shai, Lizzie, and Martin) and The Swan Prince, the first in a magical tales collection.
Today C Margery brings with her a very tasty treat -- Love on a Spoon!
Love on a Spoon is a collection of erotic tales, the themes of which are luscious morsels of sensual goodness to satisfy any . . . taste ;-)
This is a fun and eclectic mix of stories which can be devoured in one sitting, or if you have excellent willpower (I don't), you can sample them one at a time . . . drawing out the zesty essence of each. This is a great collection which I highly recommend to anyone with a sweet tooth for sexy antics. If the title alone doesn't make you want to lap up a copy of this book, I don't know what will.
Before we get to an excerpt, be sure to drop C Margery a note in the comments below **with your email address** to enter the draw for a copy of Love on a Spoon.
• • •
Need a little sexy bite between meals? All of C. Margery Kempe's spicy romantic short stories have been gathered together to give you a hearty meal that satisfies—and you won't even need dessert. Of course you'll still want it all . . .
Love on a Spoon
Park Larks
Sex Cymbals
Ranger Danger
Not Rocket Science
Baby Pink Lipstick Heels
Reunion
Turning Cards
Twelve Drummers Drumming
Fore Play
Freckles
Corrections
Stacks
Text Play
Tying Up Loose Ends
excerpt from Love on a Spoon
"I'm never dating again!" Jane wailed into the phone.
Gerald chuckled. "You don't mean that."
"I do," Jane insisted. "He said he thought there was too much commuting time in our relationship. Have you ever heard a more lame excuse? I'm going to drown my sorrows in chocolate. God, I don't even have a bottle of red wine!"
"I've got some cognac," Gerald said, inspiration suddenly hitting. "Come over. I'll get a fire going. You can rant and curse his name. It will be perfect."
"Oh, no, I look a mess: raccoon eyes, ladders in my tights, and I think my heel's getting loose."
Despite her light tone, he could tell Jane was feeling truly rotten. "You need to come out tonight. You need to be pampered. I insist. Besides—I have Nutella!"
Her laugh was genuine. "All right, you're on. Be there in half an hour."
Gerald closed the phone and smiled to himself. For once the timing was going to be right. Four years ago when they first met, he was with Sarah and she was with…hmmm? Was it Frank? Soon to be followed by Clark, Mark, and David, while he remained in the torturous on-again-off-again with Sarah. When he finally gave that up as a bad job six months ago, he found himself waiting while Jane juggled three different guys, none of whom was worth a damn as far as he was concerned.
But he waited, because Gerald finally realized that Jane was worth it.
Sure, she tended to think of him as a brotherly confidante, but maybe he could use that tonight to start changing her mind. As he laid the wood for the fire, Gerald could picture the hurricane of motion that was Jane blowing up on his steps and the way her bright eyes darted. He thought of her in that favorite soft grey sweater that clung to her breasts and enhanced her generous cleavage. How he would like to bury his face in it! No, no, not yet, he scolded himself. Don't overwhelm her.
Gerald got the brandy snifters down from the top shelf, setting them and the bottle down on the hearth to warm. He grabbed his grandmother's quilt off the bed and draped it over the easy chair. He was just putting the Nutella on the coffee table with a couple of spoons when the bell rang.
"Oh my god, I nearly hit a cat on the way over here," Jane announced as she rustled through the door, throwing her bag to the side and shucking off her coat. "I'm a disaster! Everything I touch!"
Gerald laughed and steered her into the easy chair, where she collapsed sighing dramatically. He couldn't help grinning at her utter surrender to dejection. "Oh, it can't be that bad, now."
"I might as well be a leper," Janet said waving away his comforting gesture. "Clearly there is no way I can attract any man and I'm a danger to everyone else on the planet. I must have a bulls-eye on the top of my head. See if I don't!"
"You just need to relax," Gerald said, stepping over to the iPod deck. "Schubert or Tori?"
"Oh, Schubert. I think Tori would just make me want to wail right now." Jane sighed and sank deeper into the chair. "Where's my ottoman! I need to put my feet up."
Gerald chuckled and pushed the ottoman over with his foot. Then he tutted, "Oh, no, this won't do. No tights! You can't relax in tights. Off, off, off!" He gestured impatiently and she hopped up to reach under her skirt and start the downward movement. Gerald felt himself flush with desire at the thought of her naked thighs and made excuses. "I'll go get you some nice warm socks." He padded down to his bedroom and rifled through the sock drawer for his best fluffy wool socks, smiling to himself in the mirror. Things were going well. He hoped they would continue to do so.
When he came back into the room, Jane already looked more relaxed. Gerald bent down and slipped a sock onto each foot, Jane obediently lifting each foot even as her eyes remained closed. Gerald felt a welcome charge of electricity as his hands slipped up her calves. Jane had great legs.
Gerald turned to pick up the cognac and pour it into the nicely warmed glasses. The pale liquor glowed in the firelight and he inhaled the aroma with pleasure.
"Here," he said, handing one of the snifters to Jane, who opened her eyes with a smile. "To better days."
C. Margery Kempe is a writer of erotic romance distinguished by its humour, intelligence, and fearless sensual pleasures. Her stories range from contemporary thrillers to medieval era fairy tales.
An English professor by day, she also writes on medieval literature, film, creative writing and New Media, as well as humor, drama, mainstream and genre fiction under her real name and non-explicit romance as Kit Marlowe.
She's a weekly blogger at Nights of Passion on Sundays.
Find C. Margery online at --
C.M.Kempe
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads
Amazon
Lady Smut
The Pop Culture Divas
Tirgearr Publishing
Love on a Spoon
Park Larks
Sex Cymbals
Ranger Danger
Not Rocket Science
Baby Pink Lipstick Heels
Reunion
Turning Cards
Twelve Drummers Drumming
Fore Play
Freckles
Corrections
Stacks
Text Play
Tying Up Loose Ends
excerpt from Love on a Spoon
"I'm never dating again!" Jane wailed into the phone.
Gerald chuckled. "You don't mean that."
"I do," Jane insisted. "He said he thought there was too much commuting time in our relationship. Have you ever heard a more lame excuse? I'm going to drown my sorrows in chocolate. God, I don't even have a bottle of red wine!"
"I've got some cognac," Gerald said, inspiration suddenly hitting. "Come over. I'll get a fire going. You can rant and curse his name. It will be perfect."
"Oh, no, I look a mess: raccoon eyes, ladders in my tights, and I think my heel's getting loose."
Despite her light tone, he could tell Jane was feeling truly rotten. "You need to come out tonight. You need to be pampered. I insist. Besides—I have Nutella!"
Her laugh was genuine. "All right, you're on. Be there in half an hour."
Gerald closed the phone and smiled to himself. For once the timing was going to be right. Four years ago when they first met, he was with Sarah and she was with…hmmm? Was it Frank? Soon to be followed by Clark, Mark, and David, while he remained in the torturous on-again-off-again with Sarah. When he finally gave that up as a bad job six months ago, he found himself waiting while Jane juggled three different guys, none of whom was worth a damn as far as he was concerned.
But he waited, because Gerald finally realized that Jane was worth it.
Sure, she tended to think of him as a brotherly confidante, but maybe he could use that tonight to start changing her mind. As he laid the wood for the fire, Gerald could picture the hurricane of motion that was Jane blowing up on his steps and the way her bright eyes darted. He thought of her in that favorite soft grey sweater that clung to her breasts and enhanced her generous cleavage. How he would like to bury his face in it! No, no, not yet, he scolded himself. Don't overwhelm her.
Gerald got the brandy snifters down from the top shelf, setting them and the bottle down on the hearth to warm. He grabbed his grandmother's quilt off the bed and draped it over the easy chair. He was just putting the Nutella on the coffee table with a couple of spoons when the bell rang.
"Oh my god, I nearly hit a cat on the way over here," Jane announced as she rustled through the door, throwing her bag to the side and shucking off her coat. "I'm a disaster! Everything I touch!"
Gerald laughed and steered her into the easy chair, where she collapsed sighing dramatically. He couldn't help grinning at her utter surrender to dejection. "Oh, it can't be that bad, now."
"I might as well be a leper," Janet said waving away his comforting gesture. "Clearly there is no way I can attract any man and I'm a danger to everyone else on the planet. I must have a bulls-eye on the top of my head. See if I don't!"
"You just need to relax," Gerald said, stepping over to the iPod deck. "Schubert or Tori?"
"Oh, Schubert. I think Tori would just make me want to wail right now." Jane sighed and sank deeper into the chair. "Where's my ottoman! I need to put my feet up."
Gerald chuckled and pushed the ottoman over with his foot. Then he tutted, "Oh, no, this won't do. No tights! You can't relax in tights. Off, off, off!" He gestured impatiently and she hopped up to reach under her skirt and start the downward movement. Gerald felt himself flush with desire at the thought of her naked thighs and made excuses. "I'll go get you some nice warm socks." He padded down to his bedroom and rifled through the sock drawer for his best fluffy wool socks, smiling to himself in the mirror. Things were going well. He hoped they would continue to do so.
When he came back into the room, Jane already looked more relaxed. Gerald bent down and slipped a sock onto each foot, Jane obediently lifting each foot even as her eyes remained closed. Gerald felt a welcome charge of electricity as his hands slipped up her calves. Jane had great legs.
Gerald turned to pick up the cognac and pour it into the nicely warmed glasses. The pale liquor glowed in the firelight and he inhaled the aroma with pleasure.
"Here," he said, handing one of the snifters to Jane, who opened her eyes with a smile. "To better days."
• • •
C. Margery Kempe is a writer of erotic romance distinguished by its humour, intelligence, and fearless sensual pleasures. Her stories range from contemporary thrillers to medieval era fairy tales.
An English professor by day, she also writes on medieval literature, film, creative writing and New Media, as well as humor, drama, mainstream and genre fiction under her real name and non-explicit romance as Kit Marlowe.
She's a weekly blogger at Nights of Passion on Sundays.
Find C. Margery online at --
C.M.Kempe
Goodreads
Amazon
Lady Smut
The Pop Culture Divas
Tirgearr Publishing
Where to buy --
Kindle US, Kindle UK, Smashwords
Don't forget to leave a comment with your email address for the draw!
Don't forget to leave a comment with your email address for the draw!
