How do you play?
Visit each blog between Friday, February 7 and Sunday, February 9 to read the posted stories and excerpts.
Leave a comment answering the story question on each blog. You will receive one entry per blog for the grand prize drawing. You will also be automatically entered in that author’s individual contest, if she has one.
If you have visited all of the blogs, visit Ana’s blog to sign up for FIVE bonus entries to the grand prize.
Deadline is midnight EST (UTC -5) on February 9!!
If you successfully completed a previous challenge (Spank or Treat 2013, Spankee Doodle 2013, Love Spanks 2013, or Spank or Treat 2012), you may add “VIP” to your comments. You will earn THREE bonus entries toward the grand prize. (Yes, we will be doing this again. Yes, if you successfully complete the Love Spanks 2014 challenge you can become a VIP for our next activity!)
If you are a F/F author or thinking of becoming one, please add “FF” to your comments. That way, your name will be entered in the special F/F author prize drawings.
If you are Love Spanks 2014 Ambassador, please add “Amb” to your comments to receive your extra prize drawing.
Visit any of the participating blogs on Friday, February 14 to find out the lucky winners. Will it be you?
Like these events? Want to support your friendly F/F authors? Become a Love Spanks Ambassador! In exchange for promoting this event, you will receive one extra prize entry, AND you are still eligible to participate and win prizes! To find out the details, send an email to tarafinneganromance@gmail.com, with the subject line “Love Spanks Ambassador.”
Tweet #lovespanks on Twitter!
The following free read features two
characters from my erotic paranormal series The Vampire, The Witch
& The Werewolf. We delve into Mirabella and
Marguerite’s story in the F/F/M novella Mirabella’s Mardi Gras
Ménage. Some readers commented on the lack of a F/F-only scene.
While it existed within my head, the limited word count kept it from being
included in the final book. So here, as my very first FREE read, is a special,
new scene.
Mirabella’s First Course
By Louisa Bacio
As the night wound down, the camaraderie
between the two women overflowed like fresh poured champagne. Laughter and the
spicy scent of the Cajun restaurant next store drifted in from Bourbon Street. The
late-night shift came on, and Mirabella wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to
the striking redhead sitting across from her.
“What are you doing after this?”
Marguerite asked. She trailed her index finger along the U-shaped curve of
Mirabella’s hand, sending shivers of sensation throughout her body. “Because
I’d like to invite you back to my place to continue our discussion.”
“I’d like that. Let me clean up my
station and get my things.” For someone who hadn’t dated – men or women – at
all, she sure accepted her offer fast. Maybe it was Mirabella’s own resolution
to embrace her life, or more so how comfortable Marguerite made her feel.
She said a silent closed-eye thank you to
the tarot cards and guiding spirits before she tucked them into the side pocket
of her bag. She took a deep breath and blew out the candles, sending a wave of
fragrant smoke trailing upward.
Outside, they fell in a natural rhythm,
step by step. For being so much taller than Mirabella, Marguerite didn’t
outpace her, or walk too quickly. She strolled with a grace resembling the most
compact ballet dancer. Next to her, Mira felt klutzy. From the corner of her
eye, she drank in her long legs and shapely ass. As they passed the main drag
of bars, the street grew crowded, and Marguerite’s hip bumped hers, and their
hands brushed. Electricity jumped between their fingers, causing Mirabella to
instinctively jerk back. “Sorry,” she
said.
“Hard not to get physical on a night like
this right before Mardi Gras,” Marguerite said. She reached over and grasped
Mira’s hand. “Follow me, single file.”
They wove through throngs of people, so
close together Mira could smell Marguerite’s perfume over every other competing
scent. She barely reached up to her shoulder. As the air cleared, and although they
had more room, they continued to hold hands as if it was the most natural
thing.
“Wow, pretty crazy out there,” Mirabella
said.
“It’s only going to get worse,”
Marguerite added. “But we’re almost home.”
She entered a code into a gate, and
pushed open the door. Inside lay a courtyard oasis, complete with a flowing
water fountain and koi ponds. Everything gleamed white and green. Living in the
French Quarter her entire life, Mirabella was used to seeing courtyards, but
for some reason she didn’t expect Marguerite to live in such a swanky place.
They climbed up the stairs, and seeing the apartment only solidified Mira’s
resolution to get out of Tante Teresa’s place. Living behind the Voodoo shop
had grown old.
“Have a seat,” Mirabella called over her
shoulder, as she walked down the hallway toward the back of the house. “I’m
going to get more comfortable.”
The living room held one of those
sectional leather couches shaped in a half square. She set her purse on the
coffee table and plunked herself down in the corner. The strap of her tank top
slid off her shoulder, and Mirabella debated upon striking a sexy pose. Could
she pull it off or would she look foolish? She worried her lower lip between
her teeth and second-guessed coming home with Marguerite. With the chemistry
flowing between the two of them for the past two hours, the other woman was
probably expecting something more than friendship, and she was frightened of
disappointing her. Or more, her being disappointed in Mirabella.
Before she could make the decision to
stay or go, Marguerite returned. Her legs looked even longer in the short jersey
shorts, and her breasts strained against the tight shirt. Good lord, the woman
turned heads wherever she went. Mira originally met Marguerite when she came to
the shop seeking advice about Nick. The Creole man was so striking before he
turned into a vampire. But afterward? Inhuman. Literally. If that were how her
tastes ran, it was impossible for Marguerite to be interested in her. What did
she have to offer?
“You look like you’re going to hurl or
flee. Are you all right?” Marguerite settled beside her, crossing her legs
Indian-style. “What are you so wound up about?”
“I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here,”
she started, “Maybe I’m thinking about it too much.”
“May I?” Marguerite hovered her hand
above Mira’s leg.
“Yes.”
The warmth soaked through the thin
material of Mirabella’s skirt on contact, and then Marguerite stroked upward.
“I think we both know why I asked you back, and you wanted to come, and maybe
your shouldn’t pick the reasons apart. Go with what you feel.”
“But-” Mira started.
The other woman leaned in. The last
glimpse Mirabella had before she shut her eyes was plump red lips, and then she
was kissing her. Light and tentative, and oh so soft. Her hand continued to rub
Mira’s inner thigh, and her tongue stroked her lower lip. She opened her mouth,
letting Marguerite within her mouth, and into her heart. Warmth spread between
Mirabella’s legs as her nervousness fled and excitement flared.
“You’re trembling beneath my palm,”
Marguerite said.
“I guess I’m a little nervous.” Mirabella
laughed lightly.
The low lighting in the room accented the
young woman’s golden skin tone. Upon first sight, Marguerite found her
enticing. Up close, and with her cheeks flushed from want? Watch out. The minx
glanced at her from behind half-closed eyes. Her chest lifted, and her delicate
collarbones emerged. Marguerite wanted to run her tongue along the curve and
suck until she left her mark. She licked her lips, almost able to taste the
delicacy. Soft deliciousness.
While she loved being with men – the pure
strength of Nick when he lifted her up, held her ass, and fucked her against
the wall, what she adored about women was the total opposite. The rounded swell
of breasts and hips. Tentative touches
so soft she almost came on contact.
“Are you doing all right?”
“Mmmm, hmmm.”
This time, Mirabella initiated the kiss,
reaching behind Marguerite to remove her hair band before running her fingers
through it. She held Marguerite’s head, massaging her scalp, while exploring
her mouth. Their dancing tongues swayed, and their breath intermingled.
Less tentative now, Mirabella crawled
forward, her hand brushing against Marguerite’s breast, her fingertips flicking
over her nipple. Marguerite inhaled sharply. Someone was curious.
She pulled Mirabella onto her lap,
sliding up the long skirt until it bunched around her hips, and ran her fingers
under it, between Mira’s legs, seeking her warmth.
Oooh, so wet through her cotton panties.
So excited. She was sure it wouldn’t take much to make the other woman come.
First, she was going to make her want it. Need it. Beg for it.
“Have you been with a woman before,
Mira?” She liked the way the R in her name rolled off her tongue, like a gentle
caress.
“No.” She stilled in Marguerite’s arms.
“Have you been with a man before?”
“Not really.”
“Usually, that’s a yes or no answer. What
does ‘not really’ mean?”
“Well, I’ve kissed a man before, and I
wanted more. But nothing else happened. I haven’t had sex if that’s what you
want to know.”
Was
she defensive about her lack of experience? These days it was a precious
commodity and definitely nothing to be embarrassed about.
“Shush. It’s all right. I’ll enjoy
helping corrupt a bit of that innocence,” Marguerite said. “And who better to
give some good loving than another woman who knows how your body works.”
She held up her hand. “See my nails? I
keep them cropped short and rounded.
Do you know why?”
The other woman’s eyes opened wide.
“N-oo.”
“So when they’re inside you, all you’ll
feel is pleasure.”
Long, dark lashes fluttered shut, and
when she opened her eyes, the pupils displayed pinpoints of passion.
“Show me.”
And with that invitation, Marguerite took
her hand, and led her to the bedroom. They
stood, body to body, facing each other, both aware of the next step. She peeled down Mirabella’s tank top,
revealing the delicate skin underneath. The parts of her breasts that never saw
the light of day were a few shades lighter than the rest of her body, and
Marguerite immediately wondered what her bare ass looks like. Hmmm, there was something
extra delicious about this encounter knowing she’d seen parts of Mira’s beauty
others hadn’t.
In contrast, her nipples were dark, dark
brown, like the richest chocolate against caramel skin. Marguerite licked her
lips in anticipation. Maybe another time she’d bring some chocolate into the
bed and check the matching coloring, and have a delectable taste play, too. Her
own nipples were pale in comparison, like a white rose with a blush of pink
infused.
She blew, watching the tip pucker up in
anticipation, and sucked in the entire head in one mouthful. The mounds were on
the small side, less than a cupful, but on Mira, just perfect. They accentuated
her feminine petite side. Plus, with Marguerite having such an overabundant
breast-line, it was nice to see someone so different.
They stretched out on the sheets, cooler
on the early spring evening. Hope and longing swelled inside of Marguerite’s
chest. She wanted this sweet woman with a fierce, but more quiet passion. A soft love.
With Nick, being physical consumed the
relationship. Shit. What relationship? He screwed her when he wanted a piece of
ass. Oh, don’t get her wrong. She wanted it just as bad. Beneath the surface,
she saw the tenderness, and knew he cared for her. If he would only open his
heart, and believe in his own worth, they might have something together.
She couldn’t love Mirabella. It was too
soon. She’d barely met her, and yet her body ached to be touched by the other
woman. Her soul desired to be soothed by the beauty. Mirabella lay against the
blue pillows, her hair a kinky halo around her head, and her eyes wide with
wonder.
Never would she have expected a man they
shared in common to bring them together. She’d have to thank Nick later for his
inadvertent help. Now, it was time to play.
Next to her side, Marguerite trailed her
fingertips up the inside of Mirabella’s calf, her inner knee, her thighs, until
reaching the sweet spot between her legs. Mira gave a small startled jump as
Marguerite delved between her nether lips.
“Let me please you,” Marguerite said, sandwiched
between Mirabella’s legs, sliding her hands under her thighs, and tilting up
her hips. She licked Mira’s clit, alternating between quick and long, broad
strokes.
Low moans escaped from Mirabella’s mouth,
and Marguerite slid a finger into her wet depths, testing the tightness, and
then two. Mirabella met her motions, thrust for thrust, completely in trust
with the more experienced lover. She drank in her musty scent, and lavished her
tongue.
As her climax overcame her, Mirabella
squeezed in her thighs, and Marguerite drew out every bit of pleasure. After,
she moved upward, taking Mirabella in her arms.
“That was unbelievable.” Her cheeks rosy
in the afterglow, Mirabella toyed with the curve of Marguerite’s hip, running
her fingers over the top, and back down over her ass. “How can I make you feel
good?”
“I’ll show you. We’ve got plenty of time
for that.”
The lights rimming the garden window
flashed red, purple and green, casting a muted glow over the darkening room,
and Marguerite schooled Mirabella in the fine art of loving.
* * * *
Constantly under the watchful eye of her Voodoo priestess aunt, Mirabella longs to break free
during the events of Mardi Gras. Escapades draw her into the arms of Marguerite, a fiery redhead with a passion for life, and Nick, a familiar vampire who’s haunted by his transformation and past.
What starts as a new experience – a Mardi Gras Ménage – soon turns deadly, and none of their
lives will ever be the same.
Tell me: What's the name of the guy Marguerite and Mirabella share in common? To enter my contest for the Valentine's Goody Bag, and to be eligible for the grand prize, leave a message with a valid email address.
Thanks for visiting!
Louisa Bacio
.jpg)
