Finding the right spot – Sex locations, Day 3


The Divas have been having a lot of fun of late, discussing all the places our characters have done the dirty. Sami made a list first, which you can see right here. Then it was Lexxie’s turn. (Click here for her list.)

The thing is with erotic romance writing, our characters do the dirty A LOT! And let’s face it, if they confined themselves to their bedrooms, things could start to get a wee bit boring, no? So it’s up to us, the authors, to throw our characters into places or situations that’ll spice up the scenes.


Truth is, very few of my love scenes take place in the bedroom. All too often, they’re so keen to get it on, that soft, comfortable bed is just too damn far away. So, where have they done it? Well let’s see:

1) In the lounge room. (That seems to be a favorite of mine. There’s even a scene on a couch which takes place as the NYE midnight firework show begins. And oh, yeah, there are a lot of fireworks!)

2) In the dining room. (On the table and a chair. Different books though.)

3) In the bathroom. (Not in the shower or bath, as you’d expect…)

4) A gazebo in the middle of a rose garden. (Several times. Turns out the gazebo was a special place for this hero and heroine.)

5) The dressing room of a sports stadium. (With sixty thousands people packed into said stadium.)

6) An outdoor spa/jacuzzi.

7) A doctor’s waiting room.

8) On the deck of a boat.

9) On the ladder of a boat.

10) In an office. (With someone watching through the window. And without someone watching through the window. And in his office chair. And her office couch.)

11) In the garden during a party.

12) In his parents’ garden, behind the massive eucalyptus tree. (Don’t worry. It was night. The parents never saw a thing.)

13) On the balcony of a hotel room. (Man, I adore love scenes set in hotel rooms! I have heaps of them.)

14) Tied to a chair. (Well, she was. He’d gotten free by then.)

15) On a bar. (With three hot men! How’s that for one lucky lady?)

16) On a poker table. (Never fear, the cards and chips had been packed away.)

17) On a kitchen table. (Sturdy table that one.)

18) On the trunk of a car on the side of a road in broad daylight. (Phew, lucky the road was deserted.)

19) On a cliff overlooking the ocean. (Spectacular views, I might add.)

20) In her dreams. (And his)


Now, for the fun bit…A CONTEST!

You’ve read my list. Now check out Lexxie and Sami’s lists. (Rhian’s is coming soon!)

Each day any commenter who can match up at least one of that author’s books with its corresponding sex location will go in the draw to win a set of four backlist books–winner’s choice, one from each of us. So, for eg, you might say that the love scenes in the gazebo are from Red Red Wine – and you’d be right. (I gave that one away because I’m super cool that way 😀 ). Do you get the picture? Match up as many or as few as you can.

Have fun. (Oh, and don’t be shy to add a couple of places you might have tried. Who knows? They may just land up in a Diva book one day.) 😉

Good luck,


Check out the cover I made for Kat and Mouse!!

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over the knee high heeled boots


Me! I made it! All by myself!

That’s all.

(Oh, and you can buy the book for .99 right here Yay!!!)

Coming Soon – Shadow Whispers (A Paranormal Erotica Horror)

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There’s something creepy coming soon from me. Something dark and twisted…



Jared died twenty years ago. Now he’s trapped between Heaven and Hell, sent back again and again to protect those whose time has not yet come. Never before has he been tempted by the desires of mortal flesh. But then, he never had to watch over Tess Darcy before. For Tess he’ll break every rule, even if it costs him his immortal soul.

Haunted by nightmares of the stalker who nearly killed her, Tess has buried herself deep in the Australian Outback to escape her past. But Kangaroo Creek isn’t quite the quaint little town it looked on the map. Nothing is what it seems here. Every night, the same incredibly hot erotic dreams visit her, leaving her wanting more. The Librarian’s channeling demons, and assures Tess the handsome hunk she just ran into is dead. The bookstore seems to have rather unusual clients, and destroyed photos have a way of reappearing over and over again.

Other than that it’s a peaceful little town… until the man who nearly killed her returns from the dead. Is Jared the man of her dreams? Can he save her from her nightmares, or will the magic that haunts this town consume them both?

Stay tuned for more details on release date…if you’re game 😉

Are You On The Naughty or Nice List?

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Want to read the opening of A Sprite’s Tale? Cause you do. Because it’s a super erotic, super short, super sexy story about Santa’s sexy nephew and the Australian bushland sprite who ties him to a tree. Seriously 🙂

When an Aussie bushland sprite collides with Santa’s nephew on a sunny, isolated Australian beach, the sand won’t be the only thing that scorches!

Nick Saint Nicholas

The rumbling in my gut hit me before the jet did. Well, before the jet’s turbulence did. One second I was skimming through the sky, the cool wind on my face, the next my gut feels like the San Andreas Fault having a bad day. I toss a look over my shoulder, see the Qantas Airbus and think, oh shit.

Ten seconds later, I’m in a wild spin, heading straight down; sleigh, sack of presents, eight reindeer — plus that red-nosed ninth wheel, Rudolph — and all. Not the perfect situation, I have to say. No wonder my uncle is a jumpy mess come Christmas Eve.

Ever plummeted through a high-altitude cloudbank while trying to regain control of a sleigh chock-full of presents? It ain’t easy, especially when said cloudbank makes you blink like mad and you’ve left your sunglasses back in your uncle’s workshop at the North Pole, damn it.

Especially when Rudolph’s nose is flashing like an insane traffic signal, Blitzen is trying to pull right, Donner is trying to pull left and Comet looks like he’s two seconds away from throwing up. Trust me, reindeer vomit is not easy to get out of denim.

Scrambling for both the wildly flailing reins and the gyro leveler on the sleigh’s control panel, I flicked a quick — and I have to admit, worried — look at the rapidly approaching terrain coming up to meet me. Or rather, the wide stretch of completely isolated beach I was rapidly approaching. If I didn’t get some semblance of control back, my uncle was going to be down one nephew, his only nephew, and a lot of kids were going to wake up Christmas Day sans presents under the tree.

This wasn’t good. So much for a dream run to warmer skies to give the old man a break.

Snatching the lashing reins — just — I yanked on the strip of leather. It always cracks me up that my uncle’s sleigh is decked out in technology way beyond human comprehension but he insists on retaining reins to steer the thing. Come to think of it, he probably doesn’t need the four-legged fur-covered propulsion units either, but Santa’s always been a fan of tradition so…

All right, all right, I hear you. Enough of the back story, Nick. Get back to the situation, already.

So, I’m heading for a deserted beach somewhere — I think on the far north coast of Australia — wrestling madly with a set of reins that feel more like a live snake. The beach is getting closer, the night air is getting hotter, I’m sweating and it has nothing to do with the tropical summer’s heat.

The reindeer are frantically pawing at the sky desperate for traction, that bloody nose of Rudolph’s is flashing like crazy (who knew it acted as a hazard signal as well?), Dasher’s throwing me surly looks, the moonbeam-bathed beach is about to turn us all into flapjacks, I’m close to popping my shoulder-joints yanking on the reins…and we pull out of the spin. Not entirely, but enough. Thank the Christmas Spirit for that.

We hit the beach. Hard.

Reindeer tumble and roll everywhere, antlers clack, clatter and crack, reins snap, the sleigh smashes into the surf-compacted sand, bounces once, twice, smashes down again, and I’m flying through the air in a wild arc, flung from the carriage like one of my uncle’s expertly made rag dolls.

Guess I should have been wearing my seat belt, huh?

* * *

Maybe I should introduce myself before I go on. Nick Saint Nicholas. The one and only Saint Nicholas’s one and only nephew. I do the odd Christmas miracle for my uncle when he’s pressed for time. It’s been a mad year this year and I wanted to give the old man a vacation — he’s never taken one, not even during the mid-2020s when the UN declared him a potential terrorist target and banned Christmas for three years. ‘Christmas without Santa may as well herald the end of humanity’ I heard him grumble moments before shooting into the skies on a covert present drop.

No, the old man needed some time out, and what’s family for if not to help when the going gets tough? So I hijacked the sleigh and took off from the Pole before he finished buckling that thick black belt of his around his waist. And then — about four hours into the delivery process — the Qantas airbus happened to cross my flight plan. So much for good intentions.

What the hell was I to do now?


You can pre-order A Sprite’s Tale for the awesome price of $1.11 at Amazon and for .99c at Barnes and Noble It will be available December 1st :)


Coming Soon: A Sexy British Knight, A Fiesty Aussie Vet…and a Road Trip…

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Tagging along to a party outside her normal circles, veterinarian Casey-Louise Marley never expected to find herself being seduced by a British knight. Sir Addison Lancaster is way out of her league, but damn, he’s sexy. And flirting with her. Things get even hotter when Addison pulls her into his arms. And positively scorching when he kisses her.

Casey knows she’s got to get away from Addison’s rakish charm before she loses her heart. The trouble is, she lives two hours north and her ride is nowhere to be found.

So when Addison offers to drive her home, with the possibility of seducing another kiss from her, Casey can’t say no. And reaching their destination is only the beginning…


Stay tuned for more details…

(Yes, this is me being a tease. Hee hee hee)


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Get your attention? Cause it did, you naughty people, you. Now, why am I shouting 69? Because that’s all my latest Ellora’s Cave release, Melt With You, costs. Sixty-nine cents. .69c.

So essentially, you’re paying dirty money for dirtiness. Perfection, yes?

meltwithyou_msrDetermined to win a bet, Olympic skier Darci Watson is racing down a mountain, victory in sight, when the snowy earth opens beneath her. Crashing into a cavernous underground space, she finds herself face-to-face with a man. Gorgeous. Big. Otherworldly…


For Darci, all bets are off. Being stuck in an ice cavern has never been so hot.

An Exotika® paranormal erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published elsewhere under the title Captive Heat,and has been significantly revised for Ellora’s Cave.



The run was perfect. Powdery-soft, lightly compacted snow, sky so blue it almost hurt to look at, air so crisp it could cut glass. Darci was in heaven. Her thighs, calves and butt burned like hell and her breath felt like shaved ice in her lungs—just the way she loved it.

Whizzing down the slope, trees and craggy outcrops mere smudges of blurring color in her peripheral vision, she couldn’t help but laugh, already picturing Crystal’s face. The American would spit chips when Darci swooshed into—

The slope opened below her, completely and abruptly, and swallowed Darci whole.


The word had barely left her lips when she smacked butt first against something that felt like frozen concrete.

Pain lashed through her body, making her cry out. “Fuck!” Eyes squeezed shut, she lay still a minute or twelve before planting her hands on the ground and slowly, hesitantly pushing herself into an upright position, waiting to be assaulted by fresh agony.

None came. “Oh, thank God!”

Her gushed exclamation bounced around a space that sounded huge, and Darci opened her eyes.

An ice cavern. She’d dropped into an ice cavern. Damn it.

Releasing her skis, now just two shattered strips of glass fiber, bamboo and titanium, she rose gingerly to her feet, taking in her predicament. A thick fog of dread rolled over her. The ice cavern was large, yet claustrophobia crept through Darci. Frowning, she looked up. The small hole she’d fallen through was far too high to reach. Her frown deepened. “How the hell am I going to get out?” she muttered.

“That didn’t look like fun.”

Starting, Darci whipped her head around.

A tall man stood behind her, several feet away, his long white hair falling around a face of cold beauty, blue eyes so brilliant she felt her skin tingle. His intense stare locked on her.

It took a few moments before Darci realized he was naked.


So there you go. What do you think? Worth .69c to find out what happens next?

Hee hee hee

You can buy Melt With You HERE


Gotta Super-Secret Treat For You All…


This is a little snippet from my current work-in-progress. It’s called Suck and Blow and it’s part of a four-book series RC and I are doing together. At this point in time I can’t tell you who it will be released with (have to keep it a secret for contract reasons) but you should see it (and Rhian’s) sometime late in the year.

Remember the parties you went to when you were a teenager? The complete abandonment of inhibitions as you played games like Truth or Dare? Spin the Bottle? Suck and Blow? Strip Twister? Remember how free you felt? How hard you laughed and how you wished you never had to grow up, like really grow up?

Now, imagine if you got to experience that kind of party again? Just one night, forgetting you were a responsible adult complete with all the baggage a responsible adult carries with them every day. Imagine, for one night, at one amazing party, you got to play those games again.

Party Games, a four book series from Rhian Cahill and Lexxie Couper, submerges the reader in the interconnected stories of nine adults and the party that sees their lives change forever.

Super-secret Snippet (remember, this is untouched by an editor’s hand so there’s bound to be mistakes aplenty *grin*)

He shoved his hand under her shirt and captured her breast, pushing the hemline up with his forearm before claiming her nipple through her bra with his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, yes!”

He sucked hard, holding her breast with one hand and her wrists with the other. Her nipple stiffened more so under his tongue, becoming rock-hard and distended. He drew it deeper into his mouth, pulsing his suction as he rolled his tongue over and over its form.

Frankie’s mewling begs and wordless moans grew louder. She pushed her hips forward again, seeking his. He chuckled around her nipple, enjoying the way she tried to pull him closer to her heat with her leg.

But he was in charge of her pleasure. Moving his mouth from her breast, he snagged his fingers under the edge of her bra and yanked it aside, watching in rapt hunger as her creamy flesh was revealed to him.

“You have the hottest breasts I’ve ever seen, Frankie,” he uttered, dragging his thumb over her moist nipple. A deep thrill shot through him at the feel of his saliva on her skin. It was a primitive, base response of possession and it made his erection jerk in his jeans.

“Seen a few, have you?” Her question was a panted rasp.

He chuckled, raising his gaze from her breast to her face. Her cheeks were flushed with pink heat, her eyes half-shuttered, her lips parted. It was the face of absolute pleasure. “Enough to know yours are sublime.” He nipped at her nipple with his lips, and she hitched in a breath, her hips thrusting toward him in a move he knew was beyond her control. “Perfect.”

She laughed, her eyes closing as she tried to tug him to her heat again. “Damn, you always did know the right thing to say, Alley Cat.”

He shook his head, scraping his thumb over her nipple again. “Not true,” he murmured, watching the pulse in her neck beat wildly beneath her skin, “if I did, I would have told you ten years ago I wanted you so fucking much it hurt.”

His confession made her whimper, her eyebrows pulling into a frown he could have sworn was one of grief.

“Make me come, Alec,” she whispered, “please, make me come.”

He brushed his lips over hers, releasing his grip on her wrists as he did so. “Gladly.”

His hands found her waistline and he shoved her leather pants down her hips, pushing them as far they would go before her boots stopped them. It was enough to expose her pussy, the tattooed gun teasing him from behind her lace g-string. Lowering to his knees, he placed his hands on her inner thighs, stroking a thumb over her folds, rolling it over her clit before dipping his tongue between her legs.

She shoved her pussy to his mouth, her hands finding his hair and gripping fast. He stoked his tongue over her folds, the lace of her g-string an erotic friction he both loved and despised. That she wore lace stirred something purely male and chauvinistic inside him; that the lace prevented him touching her completely pissed him off.

With a grunt, he hooked a finger under the thin, skimpy crotch and pulled it aside.

“Oh, God…”

Frankie’s exclamation danced over his senses, as did the subtle musk of her juices filling his breath. He rubbed his thumb over her folds, her cream slicking his flesh immediately. She was so wet for him. Sodden with pleasure. Lowering his head, he lapped at her pussy lips, delving between her labia with an insistent stroke before finding her clit. He sucked on its tiny form, Frankie’s hip driving forward with a brutal buck.

“Shit, Alec,” she gasped, her fists balling tighter in his hair, “if you do that again, I’m going to—”

He did it again. And again.

“Fuck,” Frankie cried, the word a long drawn-out groan. “I’m going to come. Oh, God, I’m going to—”

He thrust his tongue into her slit, delving it deep, swirling at around before dragging it over her clit once more.

Frankie’s hip convulsed, her pussy weeping juices as her nails dug into his scalp. “Oh, God, Alec. I’m…I’m…”

He closed his lips and teeth around her clit. And bit. Gently.

“Fuck!” Frankie’s orgasm erupted from her, sweet cream coating his tongue, his lips, his chin. She ground into his face, bucking over and over again, her cries becoming wordless sounds that made Alec’s balls rise up and his cock flood with hot, impatient need.

And before Frankie could recover from the climax he’d wrought on her body, he stood and threw her over his shoulder, grapping her naked, glorious arse and holding her tight, the sounds of her breathless laughter trailing them as he strode down the hall to his bedroom.


There you go. What did you all think of that? Be honest. I can take it 🙂