Now Available! Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night!

Its now live at the Loose Id website! And if you have a reader, most formats are available, so there's no need to wait! Yay!

So run on over and rope a copy for yourself!

http://www.loose-id.com/Doms-of-Dark-Haven-2-Western-Night.aspx

New! Doms of Dark Haven site!

Well, since the Doms of Dark Haven anthology has been so popular, we've decided to give the book its own site! Drop by and visit, we'll all be posting there on occasion. :)

www.domsofdarkhaven.com

Belinda

Revisiting the Black Planet

It's been over a year and a half since the last Black Planet book was published at Changeling Press. Three years since the first book, Little Dragon went live. We decided to put the three books into a collection, and I meant to write a 7K short story to throw in with the three books. Instead, I decided to delve back into the cyber-punk/sci fi world of Wharf, Hong Kong and Nephris and finish out the series.

It was a lot of fun re-reading those books. After writing Little Dragon, I decided that I needed to lay a bit of groundwork, so Dragon's Blood and Tiger Eyes were actually set about 30 years prior to Rose Lee's story. Now that I'm starting back on the series, we're back in Rose's time and the stories will take place after her return to Earth.

I never really intended to redeem the villain that one reviewer classified as the sleaziest, creepiest villain ever. LOL! How do you fix someone who's so obviously broken as Kitsune Jung? Well, it took some thought, some empathy and some creativity. We all have motivations for the things we do, and Kit isn't alone in this fact. He knows he was a bad boy, and by the time his story opens, all Kit wants is to go home and make peace with Rose Lee. In truth, I didn't intend for him to be a villain, he was modeled after a typical Northern California male; somewhat spoiled and self-centered. I found that after finishing the book, it was clear that I'd have to go back in and rescue Kit. It sort of gnawed away at my conscience, leaving him in such a bad situation.

Developing his heroine was tricky as well. Kit Jung is damaged goods by the time the story opens. His heroine had to be empathetic enough to understand this, but strong enough to stand on her own two feet and sometimes carry Kit. She also had to be enough of a woman to bring out his protective side. In truth, he's not an alpha male. But he's not a wimp; his heroism emerges in ways that surprised me, and almost broke my heart.

Hu Fei is a tough woman, damaged in her own right, and she has successfully survived her own gauntlet. She is the only daughter of Aiden Chen and Annie Tanaka from Dragon's Blood. She's Rose's younger cousin, and all her life, has lived in the shadow of the flamboyant, larger than life Rose Lee. She's a quiet, strong heroine, completely the opposite of her cousin. Where Rose storms into a situation, Hu Fei thinks it through and uses her wits. In Mandarin, her name means "Flying Fox." I think the name suits her, she's got a wry sense of humor and can pull out the moves when necessary.

I didn't realize how much I missed the Lee family until I took out the manuscripts and started revisiting them again. Like the other Black Planet books, this one just floated out of me, so very clear and easy to write. I can't wait to get started on the next book!

Black Planet: the Little Dragon Collection releases at Changeling Press on July 2, Black Planet II: Little Foxes releases July 16, also at Changeling Press.

Risky Business

How do you feel about risk? How do you feel about risk in your personal, daily life, or in your professional life? When I look back over my life, it's been a long series of safe, easy bets, punctuated by the occasional out-of-character, insane and crazy risk. As a general rule, I've been lucky; I haven't been carted off by serial killers on horseback or lost my house because I quit a profitable job. Sometimes in order to fully experience life, we need to take an occasional, well calculated risk.

This holds true in writing as well. I think a great deal of what I write is fairly safe and predictable for the type of industry I'm in. I ran into a couple walls early on, learned a few facts about what hurt sales, and what helped them, but in all, I try to play by the rules. On occasion though, the risk-taker begins to prod me and tells me to try something new...to break a few rules.

When it's my creative self that begins to get restless, that's when I do an experimental project, and I'm fortunate enough to have publishers who will give me an outlet for those stories. As a rule, I tend to take my less commercial novellas and shorts and put them into anthology projects. I also will experiment a little with stand alone shorts such as Changeling Press's themed Hot Flashes.

One of my more unusual stories is Snowfire: Chrysalis. It was an experiment in first person writing, and also a test to see if I could create a believable hero that was completely against heroic type. Kell and Pim are androgynous and sexless throughout the book, and it isn't until the end that the reader discovers who, and what Kell and Pim really are. As I expected, the short didn't sell very well, but the critical praise was gratifying. It was a calculated risk and paid off in that it satisfied my inner risk-taker, it also got me some good press with reviewers and reader reviews. After a couple years have passed, I can honestly say that Chrysalis is one of the stories that I've written that I'm most proud of.

Sometimes to be successful, we need to jump in the deep end and pray that we don't sink. This is true in life as well as in writing. It's frightening, its unpredictable, and sometimes you end up doing a belly flop. But sometimes you end up doing a swan dive, and when that happens, you're so tempted to climb out and try again.

Taking risks helps us evolve and develop our skills. This is where we gain a bit of courage to be a bit bolder with the next endeavor. Risk-taking allows up to open our creative vaults and take others with us.

Don't be afraid of a little risk.

* * * * *

Kell is haunted by memories of a place that doesn’t exist. He dreams of a face he’s never seen. He senses that somehow, his life is wrong. Compelled by loneliness and isolation, he walks away from everything in a quest for answers.

Come with Kell as he journeys down a long, snowy highway to a mysterious town called Arcada. Maybe, just maybe, he will find his answers there.

And maybe he will find himself as well.

Excerpt:

Vintage sports cars don’t handle all that well in the snow.

Not that the elderly Jag lets me down all that often, but as we crawled through drifts on Highway 70, I began to get the feeling that my long journey was about to come to an end.

The snow fell in those tiny, crystalline flakes that are so fine they dazzle the eye. When you try to make a snowball, it just falls apart like sand between the fingers. At first, it barely settled on the roadway, dancing away from the headlights of the car, but in time, the snow began to drift and blow across the road, eventually obscuring the roadway completely. I navigated using the slight elevation of the blacktop and the instinct that rarely lets me down. I was guided by the odd compulsion that had taken me from all that I knew for the promise of all that should be.

I’d been wandering in a funk for what seemed years, having sold my apartment and my business. Life had dried up, lost its appeal. One Tuesday I looked around and found myself alone, friendless and so painfully, obviously different from the general population, that it was clearly time to move on.

In the midst of my unhappiness, I remembered a face I’d never seen. I had memories of events that had never happened. A place came to mind, the memory of a small town that my family had visited in my youth. It was quintessential small town America, a town square, City Hall. The sort of place you generally see only on a movie set. Normal. In fact, that was the nickname of the place. While I couldn’t remember the name of the small city, I vividly remembered the signs entering the city limits. They playfully welcomed the traveler to “Normalville, USA.” I’d forgotten the state, the name of the town, even what part of the country we’d been in. Only that happy sign lingered in my memory. Funny, though, my parents never recalled seeing that sign. In fact, they hadn’t remembered the town at all. I couldn’t forget.
Welcome to Normalville, USA.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1103

First Look! Doms of Dark Haven!

Available May 18, at Loose Id!

DOMS OF DARK HAVEN ANTHOLOGY

Met Her Match by Sierra Cartwright

Simon Says by Cherise Sinclair

Educating Evangeline by Belinda McBride

Three women, three Doms. One extraordinary night. Welcome to Dark Haven, and may all of your darkest wishes come true.

Evangeline Jones was looking for safety when she ducked into the doorway of Dark Haven. What she found was a alpha wolf named Harte Sommers. In her whole life, Eva had never considered submitting to another, but in just hours, Harte would teach her everything she needed to know about survival, pack life, and the power of surrender.

EXCERPT: Educating Evangeline by Belinda McBride

Shapeshifter BDSM, M/F

The sign was small and subtle just over the door of an inconspicuous building. After blocks of running, Eva had merged into a large group of men and women who wore Victorian attire like hers. It didn’t look like a private party, so she followed them inside the club, praying she’d find her haven from the hunters who were just blocks away.

The group moved quickly inside, clearly accustomed to the place.

“Do you have a membership?”

She blinked, looking down at the cute…and scantily dressed receptionist. Eva cleared her throat. “Uh…no…” The girl’s breasts were clearly visible through the Goth-inspired Victorian outfit that she was barely wearing. The girl smiled, and a diamond winked like a brilliant beauty mark over the side of her upper lip.

Gotta love San Francisco.

“That’s okay. Is this your first time at Dark Haven?”

Eva nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face with a gloved hand.

“No problem, then. Membership is five dollars, plus tonight’s entry fee. Just fill out the paperwork. By the way, my name’s Destiny.”

Somehow she doubted that was really the receptionist’s name, but heck, her name wasn’t her own either. She paid and then scribbled a false name and address on the form, grateful that they weren’t checking IDs.

Eva looked around the dark little reception area. The place was clearly a club, most likely a dance club. Music reverberated through the walls. She heard muffled laughter, and the occasional woman’s squeal punctuated the air. A bulletin board on the wall held flyers for alternate-lifestyle events in the area. Eva’s stomach sank. Was she in a sex club? She looked back at Destiny.

“Restrooms and lockers are to the right. If you have any questions, look for a staff member; the DMs have bandannas on their left arms.”

Eva decided to skip the ladies’ room. There was no doubt that the people following her would venture into the club soon enough. She didn’t need to get cornered in a toilet. Hesitantly she stepped through the curtains and into the main room of the club.

Immediately she was assailed by the pungent mix of sweat, alcohol, perfume, and sex.

Lots of sex. Adrenaline and the bite of fear saturated the air.

Her skin prickled; phantom hackles rose in panic. She blinked, trying to focus on the room and the myriad of possible dangers within. A woman’s scream carried faintly from downstairs, and Eva’s wolf growled. Blindly she turned to run, to escape. She found herself surrounded by people moving into the club and nearly staggered to the floor. A hand steadied her elbow; another patted her rump. She jumped away, barely hearing their laughter.

Run! The wolf whirled and spun in panic.

Just yards away, a woman was lying prone over a man’s lap. Her skirts and petticoats were pulled up, leaving her bottom bare. With a crack, he slapped her ass bare handed. A strangled cry left Eva’s throat. Against another wall, a naked man was suspended from chains that dangled from the ceiling. A collar circled his throat, and a complicated ring held his penis upright.

She whimpered.

Bodies in ruffles and frills and frock coats milled around tables. Some danced, and some leaned together in intimate conversation. The civilized behavior was a paper-thin veneer over the raw lust that drenched the atmosphere.

Too much. The sensory overload was too much. She tried to make a run for the door and slammed into a broad expanse of velvet and silk and man and the most wonderful fragrance in the world. He was sandalwood and vanilla and something she couldn’t define.

Eva screamed, and her scream was echoed by that of the woman who was being spanked.

She screamed again.

Hands gripped her upper arms, and she began to struggle; her feet were caught up in the long, trailing skirts of her dress. A booted toe connected with a shin.

“Damn! Take it easy, sweetheart!”

“Sorry! Stop! I need to go!” She twisted in his grip.

Strong hands lifted her clear off the floor. “Sweetie, look up at me. Now!”

His voice was deep and compelling, and it cut through her panic. She shook her head, doing her best to bring herself back under control. For a moment -- just a moment -- she rested her forehead on his chest, inhaling deeply. The yummy scent of the man helped distract her from the surrounding chaos. Eva’s entire body reacted to that fragrance. To her great humiliation, she was growing aroused and wet. She blinked hard and looked up into his face. His beautiful face.

“Now that I have your attention, can I help you?” His nostrils flared. He leaned a bit closer, his face coming dangerously close to her throat. She whined in panic. And then she bared her throat in surrender.

What the fuck did she do that for?

“You’re scared witless. Follow me.” He lowered her to the ground and turned away, clearly expecting to be obeyed.

On trembling legs, Eva followed the stranger until they reached a little room that opened into one of the walls. As soon as the door closed, the music muted, and the scents faded to a tolerable level. She panted, fighting down the panic that still played at the edges of her consciousness. Gazing around, she gulped. The room was the exact duplicate of a police interrogation room.

She knew; she’d seen the inside of those a time or two.

“This is a bondage club.” He looked serious, but she could see he was stifling a smile. It was there in a dimple that flashed in his cheek.

“Thank you. I think I just figured that out,” she said wryly. Good God. Of all the doors she could have ducked into, she’d chosen a bondage club’s.

http://www.loose-id.com/Doms-of-Dark-Haven.aspx

Declaration of Belindapendence

Sounds a little arrogant, doesn't it? Well, not really. I just had one of those little moments where things came together in my head regarding my writing. Nothing earthshattering, but still, it opened my eyes a bit.

I got good news today, a book proposal that I sent was accepted, in spite of my having really just pulled the thing together last minute. When that happens, I get the feeling that the story is really just hankering to get out and fly. It might be a bit scary to sell on proposal with a deadline, but what the hey, I've got three chapters written, right? (panic mode!!!)

The story is a m/m paranormal, and as I opened my current projects today, it occurred to me that of the books I've written over the past year, 3 are m/m; that's roughly half of my writing. Am I crossing to the dark side, never to look back? Well...no. Not really.

I've never limited myself to a single genre, beyond saying that I write mostly speculative fiction. That's an awfully big umbrella to write under. If you look at my website, you'll see het, menage, (both bi and het) f/f, cross dressers, BDSM, shifters, paranormal, interracial/multicultural, and science fiction. Obviously, I have problems limiting myself to a single genre.

Here's how it works; I often think of a character, but don't have a plot for him/her, or I start their story and it stalls. That goes into my files for later use. Other times, I have a story that's really compelling, and it might literally be anything. Sometimes that story knows exactly where it wants to go, and I follow it like a dog on a flexi-lead. If the hero happens to be an alien or a werewolf or gay, I go with it. If a story stalls, I know something is fundamentally wrong with it and I set it aside to reconsider.

That was the case with "An Uncommon Whore." I started it as an exercise in first person, then decided to prep it for an open call. I worked on a couple chapters in Griffin's voice. Grif was one of those characters languishing in my files. He was a one eyed, one balled rapscallion. I envisioned him in a fantasy setting, coming in to deal with an uptight, spoiled princess type.

Well, the dialogue was stiff and the story just didn't have any heart. All the sudden, a line kept running through my head: "A whore is a whore is a whore, except when she's something else completely." That line gave me the key to the story...the princess really was something else! She was a he. Once I adjusted the character accordingly and let him take the POV, the story just popped. When I started on the second book, Griffin decided that it was his turn to speak, and his voice is surprisingly beautiful and shockingly clear to me. He made me cry, where Helios made me laugh.

I know that many readers are dedicated to their genre and rarely read outside of it. I imagine this limits my sales somewhat, but for now, I choose to not limit myself. My commitment as a writer is to the story, and I have so many more to write.

You see, I write erotic romance, and my personal kinks are plentiful. My perspective on sexuality is very fluid. I think there's nothing sexier than a man and a woman in an intense love story...or a threesome that's really committed. I might not want to be spanked, but there are elements of BDSM that are so damn sexy. Picturing two butch alpha males together melts me in my tracks. And don't get me started on androgyny....*sigh*

Maybe someday I'll write for a New York imprint and will find myself boxed into a genre. I find that idea dreary, but I know there's a lifeline out here for me in e-publishing. Out here on the fringes, I can write anything that I'm inclined to write.

Someone at RT took me by surprise when she summed me up as a writer. She told me that she'd gone online that morning looking for a good Belinda book. Not a menage or a shifter book, but a Belinda McBride book. What more could I ask for?

Long Time No Blog!

I've been offline for weeks now, and just haven't been able to put together my weekly blog. Bummer. But, I've now got this little wireless thingie and I can get online anywhere, anytime! What a treat!

To celebrate, I'm sharing my brand, spanking new (pun intended) cover! This is the upcoming Doms of Dark Haven anthology with Sierra Cartwright and Cherise Sinclair. Thank you to April Martinez for the art!

Very soon, I'll tell the story about how this anthology came about, and the real life club that inspired it. For now, enjoy. And don't forget to visit the websites of my co-authors!

www.sierracartwright.com

www.cherisesinclair.com

Heeeressss Rex!

Is this not just the coolest cover? I tell you, finding Rex out there in picture land wasn't an easy task, but look, there he is!

Bad Angels 3: Heaven is coming to Changeling Press March 26, 2010!

Days of Chaos and Kleenix

Well, it looks like I'm finally back online for real. Sadly, the virus that infected my computer was pretty terminal, we ended up having to reformat the hard drive or something like that. All I know is that it cost me nearly a hundred bucks and I'm slowly putting all my printer drivers, software, etc, back into the system. It's my PC and is used exclusively online, so I don't keep my writing on it...thank goodness! You notice there's no picture with this post? (I did back up most of my stuff to disk...)

So while all this is going on, my niece gets sick...she's very fragile, so a cold can have her out of school for weeks. A couple weeks ago we had a couple emergency room visits, so we're watching her very closely. Of course, the rest of us end up getting sick, and who gets to be the nurse? Yeah...goodie. I'm the only able bodied person in the vicinity.

All four of my Siberian girls are in heat...That just adds to the fun.

So...what's the good news? Lots, really. Just had to get the moaning and groaning out of the way. So...The final installment of Bad Angels releases at Changeling Press at the end of the month. I'm hammering out the edits right now. The title is Bad Angels: Heaven. I'm also getting ready to send in "Educating Evangeline" which is a novella that is part of the Doms of Dark Haven anthology that will release at Loose Id in May. Like BDSM? Well, my co-authors are the inimitable Cherise Sinclair and Sierra Cartwright! I can't believe that I'm writing with such amazing authors! Of course, I can't just write a BDSM novella, it's gotta have werewolves! LOL! Werewolves make awesome Doms! This story is set in the same universe as Toxic.

I'll be heading out to New Orleans this Thursday for the EPIC convention. Belle Starr was a finalist and true to my luck, if I skip it, I'll win! LOL! Plus, its my birthday that weekend...what better excuse to go have fun? My competition is wonderful, and I'm honored simply to have made the finals.

April 1 in Norwescon in Seattle. I haven't committed to it yet, but it looks fun. Anyone planning on going?

April/May I'll be at RT. I'll be doing a panel on marketing with Dakota Cassidy, Michelle Bardsley, Lacey Savage, and Treva Harte. How'd I manage to end up with such elevated company? (I promised them chocolate! LOL!) If you're at RT, be sure to come by!

So that's the immediate news. When I get back from NOLA, I'll be diving into the Uncommon Whore sequel, which is tentatively titled, "A Beautiful Man" and is from Griffin's point of view. I'm also just about finished with "The Nameless" which is the sequel to Belle Starr. This is Cali Polis' story.

Join my Yahoo Group!
http://www.belindamcbride.com

New Cover! Devil's Advocate!

Isn't this just yummy? Last Call Europe: Devil's Advocate will be available Feb. 5 at Changeling Press! Read on for an excerpt!

TITLE: Last Call Europe: Devil’s Advocate

GENRE: Paranormal, Bisexual Menage

RELEASE DATE: February 5, 2010

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1324



BLURB:


Tiger shifters Mya and David have a problem. Every time Mya gets aroused, it wakens a beast within her that threatens to overpower her tiger. Unable to consummate their marriage with a proper mating, they turn in desperation to the Last Call, looking for a demon to undo the curse that afflicts her.

Jedidiah Wormwood Worth is a powerful demon and at the top of his field. He's not only a devious trickster who will rob you of your soul; he's also a successful attorney for the underworld -- the real underworld. When he sees the straitlaced shifters at the Specialty Bar, he knows that they'll be his. What he doesn't realize is that by the time the night ends, his heart will belong to them.

Devil's Advocate: Sex for a service, damnation not included.



EXCERPT:

Jedidiah Wormwood Worth scanned the room, taking a deep breath. He sorted the psychic fragrances of the room like an elderly woman arranging the colorful threads of her embroidery. To one side were the bitter, dark scents of those who were close to the edge, ripe and ready for temptation. On the other side of the spectrum were the sweet, bright tastes of the truly good. The rest played like a symphony over his palette, so full of potential and challenge.

But Jedidiah wasn’t here to work tonight. After all, even angels and demons needed the occasional night off.

He flicked a spot of lint from his impeccable Savile Row suit and removed his fedora, setting it to the side of an unoccupied table. His Burberry trench coat had been safely checked in the coat room. He tapped a manicured nail on the table as the waitress took his order.

There was no doubt that the Last Call was the place to be for the paranormal set in London . He admired the toe of his polished wing tip and contemplated the prospects for the night.

“Vampires and werewolves and fairies, oh my.” Without looking, he handed a bill to the waitress and accepted his drink, sipping at the smooth whisky in the glass. Why bother with all those silly mixed concoctions when a man could have the water of life? It was one of the higher accomplishments of humanity.

The waitress hadn’t moved, so he sighed in annoyance.

“Hello Shelly.”

“Good evening, Jedidiah.” Uninvited, she slid into the chair across from him. In the dim light of the bar, her red hair glowed like fire. Her smile was false and fierce; the tips of her fangs glinted past ruby lips. She was head of security here at the Last Call, and more than capable of drop kicking his sorry ass out the front door.

“I’m here for leisure tonight, so no secret meetings; no contracts in blood.” He sipped the whisky and caught a glimpse of a couple over her shoulder. They were a stunning Yin and Yang image; the man was dark to her ivory pale coloring. Lovely. He shifted, letting his trousers caress his balls.

Too steeped in innocence, but they were damned alluring.

“Just checking, Councilor. Last time you were here, you left a bit of chaos in your wake.”

“Just enforcing a contract. I have my boss and you have yours. That vampire had passed his expiration date. If I hadn’t gathered him, you’d have had a blood bath on your hands.”

She smiled sweetly. “We did have a blood bath on our hands, darling. You tore him to pieces, and in the process, destroyed half the bar.”

He cocked a brow. “But no lives were lost save his, Shelly. He was fleeing his contract, and the breech was tearing his soul from his body. I averted a catastrophe. As per your request, I’ve never returned until now. My exile from the Last Call is at an end.”

She sighed in disgust. Under that facade, he scented discomfort and a tinge of fear.

“Don’t worry, my dear; that one made his deal with the devil long before he was turned. You’re simply a vampire.”

“Simply a vampire, eh?”

“You aren’t evil, in spite of your wicked packaging.” He looked at the vampire steadily. “The most evil men and women can wrap their vile intentions in charitable disguise, my dear. Never forget that.”

Her smile was dangerous, but she scooted her chair back and rose. “No trouble tonight, Jedidiah. Do you promise?”

He raised two fingers. “Scout’s honor. I’m simply taking a day off.”

She cast him a final look before leaving. “I know you’re big shit in the underworld, Jed, but here you’re just a demon like all the others. The rules here apply to you.”

He grinned and stretched, seeing a couple demons at the edge of the dance floor; they were eyeing him like he was some sort of celebrity. They’d probably ask for his autograph before the evening was out. It was hard not to preen.

“I promise to be a good little demon, Shelly.”

“And I know you’re twisting your words, Jed. It’s bad enough that you’re a fucking demon, but you’re a lawyer too. Say what I need to hear, Councilor.”

His smile became wicked, and Jed fiddled with the hat on the table. His small, curved horns emerged, and he allowed a bit of red to seep into his eyes.

“Shelly, I promise that I am here for drinks, music and company. I am not here to hunt. I will abide by the rules of Last Call.” He glanced up at her face, seeing a look of disbelief lingering there. “Besides, even I can’t violate the wards that protect your clients.”

“Try telling that to Antonio.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s thinking of that even now. He’ll have plenty of time in Hell to cogitate on his wrongdoings.” Jedidiah glanced back out to the dance floor, watching his little vanilla couple with appreciation. The man was wearing a black silk shirt and dress pants; she was wearing a vintage Laura Ashley frock. The prim and proper style looked good on her.

When the music stopped, they parted quickly, as though they’d burned one another, and returned to their table. Her fair cheeks were flushed, and the man’s groin swelled behind the zipper of his slacks. When she turned her head, a reddish gleam burned in her eyes.

Interesting.

Jedidiah finished his whisky and didn’t even notice that Shelly had left his table.

Extended Excerpt! An Uncommon Whore

I didn't have time to do today's blog article, but hey, I've got to put something up...right? Well, why not a never-before-seen, extended excerpt from An Uncommon Whore?

Look for this January 26 at Loose Id Publishing.

Excerpt contains graphic sex.

“And as apology for ruining your clothing, my boy here will be glad to service you. No charge, good sir.” He poked me, and obediently I dropped to my knees, waiting for the stranger to accept or reject the offer. He looked me over, no doubt seeing heavily lined gray eyes behind the mask, but little else. He grunted in acceptance, and I awkwardly crawled under the shelter of the table and folded the robes to cushion my knees.

I knew my job -- keep him unsettled, distracted. U’shma was a conniving old bastard. We’d played this game before. Kneeling between the stranger’s spread legs, I palmed my cock, moaning silently at the agony of denial. Unless he hired me for the night, my climax was expressly forbidden. I mean, what if the next client wanted to be fucked? It happened often enough. The electro-magnetic cock and ball ring kept me in a continual state of discomfort. U’shma kept the remote that would free me, and that particular service cost the client dearly.

The stranger’s legs were long and hard as iron beneath the leather of his pants. I ran my palms over the insides of his thighs, wondering how much foreplay I dared to indulge in. It really depended on the game they played up on top of the table. U’shma tapped once on my right shoulder, telling me to take it slow.

Fine by me.

Running my hands up his groin, I felt the length of his cock. He was aroused. Through the thick leather it was hard and broad and hot to the touch. I rolled my face over it, sliding my hands up to his stomach where the skin was a bit sticky with wine. Swiftly I pulled the shirt up higher, unlaced his trousers, and then, lifting the veil, lowered my mouth to his belly, slowly licking his skin clean. My lips tingled. The house wine here packed quite a kick; I’d probably pick up a mild buzz just by cleaning him up.

He shifted a bit, which told me to get down to business. Reluctantly I left the hard planes of his abdomen and followed his silent command. With a gentle nudge, I urged his hips up and slid the leathers down just a bit. Much as I’d like him bare-ass naked, they couldn’t come down far, not with my kneeling so close.

His cock spilled out, as hard and dark with blood as I could have imagined. Even in the dim light under the table I could see the thick shaft capped by a heavy, graceful head. Again my cock gave an answering surge, which was rather amusing. As often as I serviced men, usually the women were the ones who really did it for me.

Maybe I just had a thing for big, battle-scarred warriors.

Gently I worked my hands into his pants and lifted out his scrotum. I rolled his balls in my hand and then paused. Make that…ball. He had only one. That didn’t seem to be affecting his pleasure though. I lowered my face to the silky skin and gently cherished that one ball, taking care not to injure what had already been so badly damaged. I ran the tip of my tongue over ridges of scar tissue there. I was gentle…so very gentle. He became very still in his chair. I paused until he flexed his hips, urging me on.

Raising my head again, I shifted his heavy cock to the side and laved my tongue over the surprisingly soft skin of his belly, picking up sweet wine and salty man as I followed the trail of fine hair up to his naval and then back down to his groin. His pubic hair was thick and wiry, and I nuzzled into it, grasping the root of his shaft to hold him ready.

The first taste made me shiver. I lapped up the salty tear of precum and let the thick hood of his cock slip between my lips.

He was big and powerful, and I adjusted my position, angling his cock so I didn’t accidently slam my head into the table above me. That was an occupational hazard around here. I’d seen whores carried out unconscious and bleeding after their client got a little too enthusiastic at the moment of truth. He was strong, and I was a little too tall to give a blowjob with the table above my head, so extra caution was called for.

When I took him deeply into my mouth, he sighed. Not much; he probably didn’t even betray himself to U’shma, but I saw it…felt it. For a few moments, I allowed him to gently ride my mouth, shifting my hand so that the penetration wasn’t too deep.

And then I let him go, placed one fist at the base, squeezing hard, and nuzzled down to his scrotum again.

If I could reach, I’d have fucked his tight ass with my finger, but that wasn’t happening. Not this time. And somehow I got the feeling that this man was just dominant enough to refuse that particular service. But he’d probably be more than willing to dish it out. That thought made me shiver in delicious fear.

I played. Up the length with my tongue, and then down with my lips. I pushed his foreskin back and teased that tiny, precious spot behind his cockhead. I kissed my way down that faint line of skin as far as I could possibly go. When he grew close -- so close that he grew that shade harder -- I opened my mouth as wide as possible and laid my teeth in warning at the base of his cock. His hips jerked.

God only knows what compelled me to do it -- he was so fucking close, and I knew my instructions -- but I wanted this man to come. I wanted his seed on my skin and in my mouth. I wanted his hands on me, his skin against mine. I wanted to make him want me so very badly that he’d pay for the night. Just one night. Was it completely inappropriate to pray for such a thing?

I bore down just slightly into the meaty flesh of his cock, feeling him go still…so very still. He liked that…a lot. Releasing the pressure, I dragged my teeth up the length of his shaft, then slid my incisors lightly over the ridge of his cockhead. It would be too much for most men. Not him. My pirate liked that kiss of pain.

Without warning, his rock-hard hand came down and fisted into the veil. I could see his belly pumping. No doubt he was panting for air. His hips thrust as I swallowed down his cock. As his hot semen spilled into my mouth, his hand dug under the fabric of my veil, trembling fingers skimming over the surface of my skin. He traced the hollows of my eyes, the slender length of my nose. Pushing back the covering on my head, he dug his hand into the long braid of my hair and held tightly, his fingers flexing convulsively as his climax twisted his body in the chair above me.

He pulled away, and I let his semi-erect shaft slip from my mouth, but he did not release me. In fact, he pulled me closer to his body until my face was pressed against the damp warmth of his groin. He adjusted his pants and then pulled me close. I rested there between his powerful thighs, feeling oddly safe and content.

http://www.loose-id.com/An-Uncommon-Whore.aspx

New Book Video: An Uncommon Whore

The New Bad Angels Trailer!

New Review for Leather!

I must confess, I was a little worried about my first review for Leather, but L.T. Blue really seemed to pick up on what I was aiming for with this book. Generally when I write, my heroine is the central character; I develop her first, and create a hero to fit her. In the case of Leather, I started with Pierce. He's a completely unconventional hero; a porn star with major questions about his personal sexual preferences. He's rapidly approaching middle age, and just isn't sure what he wants out of life.

His personal history is a vital part of the story, and some of it came directly from real life. When I was a runaway teen, I encountered some of the dangerous and evil people who scour the bus depots in Los Angeles, looking for young, vulnerable people to take advantage of. I always wonder what would have happened to me if I'd said 'yes' to one of those people. Thankfully, I never wanted to be a star, so I never walked that path.

Pierce turned out to be an amazing hero, and is still active in my imagination. He'll undoubtely show up again in a future book. I look forward to it!

Title: Leather
Author: Belinda McBride
Publisher: New Concepts Publishing
Reviewer: L.T. Blue
Rating: 5 Stars
Heat Level: H

Pierce Wilder isn't a Dom, he just plays one on screen. As a well known porn star Pierce is ready to leave the life behind. Pierce is looking for the woman who will love him and not just his dick; he wants the house and children and more importantly the happily ever after. When Pierce catches the eye of the sexy woman in the resturant, he begins to wonder who she is and tries to get the nerve up to speak with her. Celeste decided that enough was enough. She was going to take a chance and introduce herself. Pierce wants to be honest with Celeste about his profession and his dreams. He just hopes it doesn't push her away. Celeste will have to make some tough choices, as a cop falling in love with a porn star is difficult. When she discovers someone is plotting something evil against Pierce, it will take all of her love to get him back.

Leather isn't your typical BDSM erotic romance. I fell in love with Piere and began to wish great things for him. As a porn star Pierce is really good, taking his role of Dom with ease, it is amazing that he doesn't feel that he is a Dom in real life, yet he continues to act as one. The sexual chemistry between Pierce and Celeste is instant, and you feel the heat with each page. With the amazing plot and suspense the lovemaking between Pierce and Celeste has an heat that makes you yearn for your partner or toys, whichever is closer. All of the secondary characters in this story were needed to get the plot moving while adding to the intensity of the story. There are some scenes of kidnapping, canning, starvation, and other evil things that some readers may be offended by. Ms. McBride delivered an awesome story with Leather, and I can't wait to read more from her.

Buy Link: http://www.newconceptspublishing.com/leather.htm

Leather is also available for Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Leather-ebook/dp/B002TJZLV8/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=digital-text&qid=1260140782&sr=1-3

You Are Invited!

Join me at my author corner this week, at Savannah Chase's loop! Time: from 6 to 7 PM Eastern Time, (3 to 4 PM Pacific)

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/savannahchase/?yguid=347224364

Thursday at the Tire Store

(First posted at TRS Blue November 6, 2009)

Well, things being what they are, I find myself at the local tire shop, taking care of bunches of stuff that my aging mother let go on her van. Windshield wipers, alignment, spare tire, and so forth. It’s dreary outside, drizzling and wet. To cap everything, I’m coming down with a cold.

The good thing about a tire shop is that it’s one of those male havens, a place where women are patently out of place in spite of the pretty blondes working at the counter. I sit here with my laptop, gazing covertly at the limping redhaired man with the fox-headed walking staff, the bearded fellow in the plaid flannel shirt and pristine white tennis shoes, and the cowboy with his hat hair and beautiful redheaded girlfriend.

It’s not a bad place to be on a drizzly morning.

My active brain begins spinning stories with the characters that are so ready to be written. The tire technician with the shaved head keeps sending glances toward the skinny guy that’s running the register, and the middle-aged cashier clearly has something going with the young hunk that works the alignment bay. Up at the front office, the manager of the shop is sitting at his desk, his head just inches from the blonde girl’s breast as he explains a mistake.

It doesn’t take much to dig up the inspiration, does it? It comes from so many places, both expected and completely surprising.

Outside the window is the bad section of town, where down and out drifters wait in line for a warm lunch and a place to crash for the night. These days, the Mission is filled to capacity every night.

The young man on the bicycle has kinky, wild hair and the eyes of a madman or a prophet. He’s clearly seen too much in life. He’s late for check-in at the mission, so he’ll spend a cold, damp night sleeping in the bushes across the street from the tire shop. His dreams will be vivid and populated with images both amazing and frightful. Perhaps he will come face-to-face with the magic that accompanies his every thought and action. I make a mental portrait of him, for he will take a role in a future story.

Very soon the work on the van will be finished, and it will be time to leave. These players will continue to move on a stage outside of my vision, but their stories will continue to unwind, leaving me to wonder and to imagine.

Belinda McBride writes erotic fiction, and is published at Loose Id, Changeling Press, and New Concepts Publishing. She welcomes you to visit her site at http://www.belindamcbride.com
And her blog at
http://www.belindam.blogspot.com

Gettin' Insightful...

I write because I must.

I write because I have something to say.

I write to release the music in my soul.

I write because I’m sure it’s an easy way to make money.

I write because I have a book inside of me somewhere.

We’ve all heard these comments at some point, and perhaps they are truths to some, myths to others. (Especially the part about the money!) With the start of NaNo, there are people all over the world setting their writing goals and starting their journey. We’re beginning day 3, and already you see writers at 12K per day, and others who haven’t yet begun. The complaints are beginning as well, as are the comments that indicate that many writers are discourage and ready to drop already.

I signed up for NaNo this year simply because I’ve never done it. This past summer, I participated in 2 week Fast Draft challenges with a small group of authors, and felt that experience prepared me for NaNo. And in a way, it has.

In order for me to complete the 50K word count, I calculated the words per day that I need to write. I gave myself several days off, (after all, November is a busy month!) and that still came to less than 2K per day. Easy, right? Well, maybe not, considering that my grand total word count for October was about 7K! LOL! But that was intentional; I built a break into my schedule this year. There were some edits, and some serious plotting going on, and I did some uncounted words on several WIPs, but my focus was on taking some time to refresh my mind. NaNo seemed like a good way to get back into the habit of writing, and also to narrow my focus to one project.

Why do I write? All of the above comments have applied to me at some time, but the main reason I write is that my brain has some chemical issues. I’m a bit clumsy with communication; it’s difficult for me to verbally express what I wish to say to someone. I am capable of expressing myself in writing.

I have racing thoughts, and those of you who have experienced this know how distressing it can be. From childhood, stories and scenarios have flooded my brain non-stop. Many writers say they are full of stories, but this is a bit different. It’s an obsessive/compulsive issue that is nearly crippling. When the racing thoughts kick in, I babble non-stop, and sleep is nearly impossible. It slowed me down at school and sometimes interferes with my job.

When I purchased my first laptop and began writing compulsively for hours on end, it wasn’t for creative expression. It was for survival…for sanity. That first year, I probably wrote 400K or more. Of that, two novels and a novella emerged and made it to publication.

Thankfully, the discipline that it takes to write constructively was drilled into me in college, so after the first few months of simply pouring myself out onto my hard drive, I was able to slow down, to take the time to polish my words and sentences, and to consider actually selling what I’d written. Because even if my stories don’t sell, they’re going to be written.

The wonderful thing is that I’ve discovered that this outlet I have has the potential to be fun. Note that I said that it has the potential…it also have the potential to be nightmarish and stressful. Anyone who’s written on a deadline or found themselves blocked will discover that this craft is not always fun, nor is it easy.

Like all things in life, there must be balance and moderation. So yes, there are spikes in my creativity where I can write a 30K novella in days. Other times it takes months to grind out a short story. But over all, slow and steady is what it takes. Setting a daily goal. For some, it is a word count goal. As a general rule, I don’t keep track of my daily word count unless I’m on a challenge. My rule is to never let a day go by without doing something constructive, whether it’s writing, plotting, doing a book video, or seeking inspiration. (AKA research)

So if you’re doing NaNo…good for you! Just realize that if you don’t meet word count at the end of the month, you have not failed. Look at what you have done and realize that those are words that you wouldn’t have written otherwise.

If you do meet the 50K goal, excellent! Now is the hard part. Don’t leave that manuscript languishing on your hard drive. You’ve given it life, now start polishing and editing. Look at the market and see where your book fits. Expand on it, tighten it, and make those words into a living, breathing document.

It might be the only book you have in you, but I’m willing to bet that if you’ve written that much, there is more inside.

I’d like to hear why you write, and if you’re participating in the Challenge, what your feelings are about it.

Back to the Drawing Board

Here it is, the end of October, and NaNo is almost upon us.

I confess that I've never participated in the event before, and initially wasn't that interested. This summer, I had the fantastic experience of doing several 2 week Fast Draft challenges with a small group of authors, and for me, the results were amazing. It seems that while I suck at deadlines, when I issue a challenge to myself, I'm capable of more than I give myself credit for.

So...just days away and I haven't begun preparations yet. In fact, the project that I intended to focus on might not be appropriate. How can I write Book 4 of Bad Angels when I haven't even drafted Book 3? LOL! Oh well...

That's what the Drawing Board is for.

When I first enrolled in college, I was a pretty good student in most of my subjects. Unfortunately, I had major problems in algebra. Not math, not geometry...just algebra. Testing indicated a fairly rare and specific learning disability, and the school promptly assigned me a tutor. What I learned from her was the use of white boards and colored markers to delineate an equation. Later on, when I began writing plays, I used this same method to track scenes, acts and characters.

Let me explain some of my tricks. When I'm creating a character, or even if I'm blocked, I write the name of the problem character (or situation) in the center of the board, and then circle it. From there, I send out a line with the name of the first character that comes to mind. Then the next, and so forth. They all get their own circles and lines out to other characters. Pretty soon, there's a network that expands from that central character. It's a bit messy, but gets all the threads out of my head and into a physical context that I can stand back and look at.

Another trick I use is free association. I just sit down and think. I use a large yellow pad and set a time line for the story, and jot down all the possible directions the story could go. Or I bend the ear of a poor unfortunate listener and babble on about everything that's flooding my brain. Unfortunately, if I don't record it, most of that drifts away on the ether...

When I'm actually writing and feel the story is vague or without a clear plot, I use a variation of the Snowflake Method. I write a sentence summarizing the book. Next comes a paragraph that expands on the sentence. From there, each sentence is given its own paragraph. That's a neat trick for really pinning down your project. It also works really well to write your book's summary.

Well, hope there was something of worth in this late night post. I'm off to bed to dream about Bad Angels.

Surprise Release! Leather!

Leather was initially scheduled for a December release, so imagine my surprise when I got a note from my publisher Sunday night, letting me know it would be up for sale on Wednesday! Well, it was a good surprise, because the buzz on the book has been building.

Leather came about as many of my books do, because of a personal challenge. I was trying to pull heroes from unlikely sources, and to go against the 'alpha' type. Pierce Wilder is an unlikely hero: he's a porn star. And though the book is erotic romance, the majority of the sex takes place on the film set, rather than in his love story. (Don't worry, it's there too! LOL!)

Pierce Wilder has found new success playing a Dom in internet porn, but in real life, the big, butch actor is really quite soft and easy-going. He has real issues trying to figure out where exactly his onscreen persona is coming from. When his fans start calling him "Master Wilder" he is distinctly uncomfortable. As Pierce begins dating a woman he views as 'normal' he struggles to blend his vanilla fantasies with the reality of who and what he is.


Researching this book was sad, intruiging and slightly heart-breaking. I didn't exactly do thesis level research on it, but still learned more about the adult film industry than I was completely comfortable with. It also contains a brief reference to something that happened to me as an underage teen when I briefly ran away from home and ended up in the Greyhound Depot in downtown Los Angeles. I didn't realize at the time just how vulnerable I was, and later discovered that the well-meaning adults that offered me food and shelter were actually evil, dangerous people. Fortunately for me, I had a ride waiting. I saw other young people walking away with them.

This was also my first time playing with BDSM, and again, I did it "my way," treating it as a plot device for Pierce's films rather than a lift-style choice.

On a lighter note, I nick-named this book, "A Porn Star Fairy Tale" because I grew to love Pierce so much, that I wanted to give him every possible happiness by the end of the book. So the 'happily for now' ending was tweaked a little bit.

My thanks to New Concepts Publishing for taking a chance on a book that doesn't quite fit in the box. And I truly hope you enjoy it!

Click the link below for an excerpt:

http://www.newconceptspublishing.com/leather.htm

Sex and Chocolate-Toxic (first peek!)

Toxic was a bit of a family project. I had the kernel of an idea for this story, but just couldn't flesh it out. When I was batting around ideas one day, I blurted out that I'd love to have Rico the werewolf wake up in Dr. Briony Theale's vet clinic, naked and trapped in a dog crate. From there, we got silly, exchanging wild ideas (most of which never made it to the manuscript) and just cracking of over the potential disaster of a werewolf dating a vet.

In the end, the characters came to life and the story actually kick-started a series idea that I'd been playing with for nearly a year. Will there be more Truckee Wolves? Stay tuned!

Sex and Chocolate: Toxic releases at Changeling Press October 16.

Sex and Chocolate: Toxic

Belinda McBride

There are three things that Dr. Briony Theale loves. Her job as a veterinarian, a good bar of rich, dark chocolate, and Rico, the new ranger in charge of the Wildlife Rescue center. When a casual dinner with the mysterious Rico turns surprisingly intimate, Briony realizes that she might just have a chance with him after all, if only she could lose a few pounds. It’s the ultimate sacrifice, but Briony goes cold turkey, and swears off chocolate forever.

Rico Montgomery fell hard for Briony the first time he set eyes on the curvy little doctor. Her brown hair and cocoa skin trigger cravings that he can barely control, and her fragrance is like the sweetest, richest chocolate he’s ever scented in his life. That’s a bad thing for Rico, because to a werewolf like him, chocolate is literally a toxin.

Rico can’t live with it, and Briony can’t live without it. And when a certain wandering wolf finds a bag of chocolate in the trash near Briony’s clinic, these two will find out just how toxic love can be.

* * *

Genre: Paranormal/Shapeshifters, interracial, BBW

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1244

ISBN: 978-1-60521-304-0

Content Warning: adult language

* * *

EXCERPT:

“Dr. Briony, you have a call on line two.” Amy gave an impish smile. “It’s Ranger Rick from the Wildlife Rescue.” She waggled a pale blonde brow.

“It’s Rico, not Rick.”

“Well, he’s a ranger and looks just fine in that uniform.”

That he did. Briony’s belly tightened at the mention of his name. Butterflies danced alongside the slight chocolate euphoria she was experiencing. “I’ll take it in my office.”

“Sure you will. Are you guys having phone sex yet?”

God, why did she keep the girl around? It wasn’t bad enough that Amy was a smart-mouthed kid, but at the age of nineteen, she was the poster child for the perfect California beach blonde. She was tall and slender with blue eyes and golden hair.

Briony was brown. She didn’t even have the satisfaction of saying she was African American or Latino. She lived as a chocolate woman in a vanilla community. Sometimes Bree felt like the ultimate outsider, an eclectic mix of races that left her with brown skin, brown eyes, and even brown hair. She certainly didn’t have a bikini body, but she didn’t let that keep her away from the water. Part of the reason she’d moved to California’s Gold Country was the abundant outdoor life.

In the summers she spent every spare moment at the crystalline lakes and rivers, kayaking and swimming. In the winters, she explored the back country on her cross country skis. She’d grown up without money and had still managed to graduate from UC Davis Veterinary School. When Briony decided she wanted something, she gathered up her courage and went after it.

Well, all except for the man waiting for her to answer his call. She’d never found the nerve to pursue him.

Rico Montgomery. The first time she’d seen him, she’d nearly had a spontaneous orgasm. Her body wanted to have his children. She’d contemplated tripping him and beating him to the floor.

He was six feet two inches of dark-haired, gray-eyed, chiseled beefcake, and this beefcake had brains. He wore his tan uniform shirt to perfection, and his Smokey the Bear hat threw her into the most delicious fantasies of her life. But face-to-face with the man, she was a wreck.

She stared down at the blinking light on the phone. “I am woman, hear me roar.” She took a deep breath. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the handset. “This is Dr. Theale.”

“Hi Dr. Briony, it’s Rico at Rescue.”

“Unhh… hello, Rico.” Oh, that was brilliant. Just brilliant. “What can I do for you today?” Maybe a full body massage? Or hell, let’s just go for broke… a blow job? She shivered, imagining wrapping her mouth around his cock. Just for fun, she’d dribble chocolate sauce over it first. In fact, she’d like to cast that phallus of his in chocolate. That way, she could have the best of both worlds…

Briony’s head dropped to the desk, her face hot with embarrassment. This was how she acted around the man over the phone! The idea of seeing him in person just blew her dignity out the window.

“Well, I wanted to see if you could make a house call today. I’ve got an injured falcon that’s just come in.”

She could almost hear the smile in his voice. Rico Montgomery was a walking wet dream of a man. There was no doubt in her mind he knew exactly what she was thinking. He had to be accustomed to women losing their cool around him.

“Let me see, I’m short-handed today.” Briony booted up her scheduling calendar for the day. “I’m booked pretty solid for the next couple hours, but I can come out right after my last appointment… say 5:30?”

“That’d be awesome. And since it’s on your own time, dinner’s on me tonight.”

Dinner on Rico. She imagined licking gravy from his navel and stifled a giggle. “Oh, really… that’s okay…” Her chocolate-filled stomach lurched. Briony wasn’t sure if it was nausea, nerves or arousal.

“No problem, I’m on baby birds till later tonight. Gotta grab dinner sometime.”

Briony stood and paced a bit, dragging the phone cord across her cluttered desk. A pile of books crashed to the floor. “Damn! Uh… sorry, just dropped something.”

His laugh was as rich as melted chocolate in her ear. “Is pizza okay? I usually do an all meat combo. I’m a carnivore, you know.”

Damn, even pizza talk sounded sexy coming from Rico’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you in a couple hours then.”

They made their goodbyes and Briony put the phone back into its base on her desk.

“Hot date with the ranger?” Amy was leaning against the doorjamb.

“No, an injured falcon. He’s working late too, so we’re just…”

“Having dinner together.”

“It’s not a date.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1244