Showing posts with label Smashwords. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Smashwords. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Julez S. Morbius talks about Star Search, his first book with NNP. Now available on Smashwords

Naughty Nights Press has with us today the dark, sexy and talented J.S. Morbius who has his first ever book, Star Search being released on November 30th.

NOW, FOR ONE LUCKY READER WHO LEAVES A COMMENT AND THEIR EMAIL ADDRESS, THEY WILL RECEIVE A PDF COPY OF “STAR SEARCH”.

THIS JUST IN, STAR SEARCH HAS BEEN RELEASED EARLY,
BUY YOUR COPY FROM SMASHWORDS AND SEE WHY WE ALL THINK IT WILL BE A GREAT HIT!

Thank you for joining us here today Julez, I hope that through your answers to the following questions, our readers will get to know a bit about you and your writing.

JSMORBIUS: Thanks for having me.

NNP:  What inspired you to write STAR SEARCH?

JSMORBIUS: After reading a few stories in the transgender genre, I noticed that they mostly tended towards the fact that the transsexual was only there for a sex object, for men to discover more about their sexuality, to be used as nothing more than an object, and I wanted to show that they are people as well, and have real feelings and emotions.

NNP:  Can you tell our readers what makes your Transgender stories better than some of the others out there?

JSMORBIUS: Well hopefully the fact that I mentioned in the previous question is one of the reasons. Transsexuals are people, just like you and I, and deserve to bet reated as such. I try to give them a real feel of humanity, something that seems lacking in a lot of the short stories I have read, and describe their feelings, emotions and even the difficulties that they STILL face even in this day and age.

NNP:  What comes first, the character or the setting when you begin writing?

JSMORBIUS: NormallyI begin with a single character and build a story from there, adding people, situations and descriptions as I go along. It is extremely rare that I actually plan a story. Usually they just flow from my mind to my fingertips to the keyboard.

NNP:  What is the main quality you like to see in your characters?

JSMORBIUS: I like my characters to have a sense of right and wrong, be strong yet vulnerable and above all happy, even if it takes alot to reach that happiness.

NNP:  What type of research do you do for your writing?

JSMORBIUS: I read a lot of transsexual, and gay, fiction, watch videos and look at pictures to get the descriptions of the act correct and also have a few followers on twitter that I have spoken to about life in general.

NNP:  Can you tell us a bit about STAR SEARCH?

JSMORBIUS:  Star Search is the story of Joe, a man whose sexual partners of preference are transsexuals and, after receiving an invite to go to a party with a partner, he finds out about a transsexual escort agency and hires a girl called Star. After spending the most amazing night with her he wakes up to find Star gone and a note that she left behind.
Going back to the agency he hired her from Joe, and getting threatened to keep out of it and stop looking for her, gets dragged into the darker side of escorting and goes through kidnap, assault, sexual deviancy until he is finally reunited with the woman he has fallen in love with.
Do the two of them escape the clutches of the twisted agency boss and her thugs? Do the two of them finally get accepted by society as avcouple?
Get yourself a copy of Star Search and find out.

NNP: Do you have any other books in the pipeline or due for release that our readers should keep an eye out for?

JSMORBIUS: I have submitted, and have had accepted, a short m/m/m piece for inclusion in an anthology sometime in the future and a couple more transsexual stories that Iam going to submit to NNP at some point.

Thank you Julez for joining us here today,  I am sure you have piqued alot of interest in your book and we look forward to seeing you become a well known name in the erotic literature world.

Author Bio:
Julian Spong is the real name of Julez S. Morbius. Julez is engaged to a woman who totally completes his life and a father to nine children, four of his own and five step-children. He is also partially disabled, having been born with a neurological condition that has caused his nervous system to deteriorate over the years and finds writing to be the way to express his feelings, and fantasies.
He has writing for less than five years and with the recent release of his first ebook, Star Search, published by Naughty Nights Press, fueling his confidence, Julian now considers writing to be his main occupation, and continues to write, mainly in gay male, transgender and cross-dressing genres.

 BRINGING LOVE AND ROMANCE  TO THE THIRD SEX

Links to Julez S. Morbius

Excerpt:
As soon as the last of them had gone, Star closed and locked the door, took hold of my hand and led me across the front room and into my bedroom. She closed the door and walked me over to my bed, before stopping and standing in front of me.
“It’s just youand me now Joe,” Star said and leaned in as if to kiss me again.
However, she didn’t want a kiss, as I quickly found out. As I leaned in towards her she placed both her hands against my chest, and pushed, catching me unaware. I tried to put a foot back to keep my balance but, as there was nowhere for me to go, I fell back onto the bed. As soon as I was on my back Star climbed on top of me, and placed her knees either side of me.
“Tonight Joe, I am going to give you a night you will never forget,” Star said looking down at me. “As my way of saying thank you for everything...”
“There’s no need for this Star,” I said.
“I know there’s no need Joe,” she said. “But I want to.”
Before I could say another word Star bent her head down and placed her lips against mine again. This time there was no urgency, no rushing; just soft passionate kissing. Our lips and mouths opened and our tongues danced together, like two snakes circling each other before they mate, before darting into each other’s mouths. I wrapped my arms tightly around her back, holding her as close to me as I could, and we stayed like that for a few minutes, just kissing, nothing else.
Eventually Star pulled away from me, sat up and pulled her top over her head, exposing her gorgeous tits to me. Throwing her head back she grabbed them in her hands and sat there on me, massaging them roughly while grinding her groin against my rock hard cock. Looking up at her hands as she played with her tits, I reached up, slowly moving her hands out of the way and placing my hands against her perfectly shaped, fake breasts. Gently running my fingers over her nipples I reached behind her, held her tight and sat up, taking each nipple in my mouth alternately and flicking my tongue over them, occasionally giving them a little nip with my teeth.
Star continued to grind and thrust her hips against my cock before moving down until she was sitting on my lower legs. Reaching forward she quickly, and eagerly, undid the zip and button on my jeans and began to pull them down. Once she had got them as far down as she could, her hand reached towards my cock, the outline of which was clearly visible against my tight boxer shorts, and began to rub me softly.
I closed my eyes and let out a small gasp at the softness of her touch, only for her to quickly pull my boxer shorts down and release my cock. Gently wrapping her long, soft fingers around my thick, hard shaft she started to caress me slowly, as I moved my hips up and down against her hand movements. Expertly she played with my balls as she stroked my cock, taking me to the brink a number of times before lowering her head and flicking her tongue over the end of my cock, tasting the drop of pre-cum that had seeped out.
I lifted my head and watched as her tongue danced back and forth over the end of my cock. Gripping it tightly, Star opened her mouth and engulfed every inch of me. Her head began to bob up and down rhythmically as she sucked and stroked, my cock. I could feel my balls starting to tighten, and knew that I wouldn’t last much longer if she carried on like she was.
“Mmm, Star that feels so good,” I gasped as her hand began to massage my balls as well. “You’re going to make me cum.”
Unable to speak, Star let me know exactly what she wanted as she started to suck me harder and faster and all of a sudden I completely lost control. My cock throbbed violently and the first stream of cum erupted forcefully and hit the back of her throat. Every spasm released more and more cum into Star’s mouth and she eagerly swallowed every drop that she could, until I was totally spent. Finally, Star lifted her head, a small drop of cum still on her lips and looked me in the eyes.
“That’s just for starters Joe,” she said sliding up my body and laying on top of me.



Saturday, October 8, 2011

Shh...Naughty Nights Press has a MEGA secret...



Naughty Nights Press is letting you all in on a MEGA secret.
From Wednesday the 12th October until Wednesday the 26th October 2011, Naughty Nights Press will be offering 25% off Elizabeth Black’s mega novel,                         DON’T CALL ME BABY at Smashwords.
   
Now this is an event not to be missed!

So keep your eyes peeled for when Naughty Nights Press releases the code that you will need to be able to buy DON’T CALL ME BABY.

Synopsis

DON'T CALL ME 'BABY' is a fast-paced, quick-witted, sexy, novel about a young woman exploring her sexuality and the cultural morés she collides with on a daily basis.
It's 1983 in Maryland and Catherine Stone is sex on wheels. She plays the field the way men have done for aeons. Not content to strive for her MRS degree like so many young women her age, she seduces men of all stripes – married college professors, theatre students, virgins, complete strangers who intrigue her. She has already cost one man his job.
She asks herself lots of questions on her search to enjoy her sexuality. Why don't other women enjoy their sex as much as she does? Why do so many women and men look down on sexually free women, calling them sluts while sexually free men are called studs and Lotharios? She bucks at the double standards!  Catherine has made no commitment to any man. She's free to explore and she gladly does so. No man can tie her down and no woman's judgment will stop her from playing the field to her heart's content.
Does she meet her match in a new man who introduces her to sexual bliss she had never before experienced? When she tries multiple partners and bondage for the first time as a submissive, she believes she's found the sexual bliss she is looking for – and with a man who not only introduces her to the fineries in life but also cares about her like no man ever has before.

Don’t Call Me Baby by Elizabeth Black
Excerpt
Catherine Stone looked around the amusement park and rides but saw nothing unusual. It was the end of another hot and humid day in Maryland during the summer of 1983. The sun had set behind the trees, casting shadows across the park hiding the car she sat in to some extent. Catherine wished it were a bit darker outside, because she was in constant fear of getting caught, but it was a hot June evening, so that was too much to ask for. Besides, the possibility of getting caught thrilled her, made the encounter all the more exciting for her. Every horn blowing and car pulling in made her hair stand on end. Will this be the cop who pulls us over? Can we get away with me sucking him off here yet again?
She unzipped Brian's trousers, and slipped her hand inside. Reaching into his briefs, her fingers wrapped around his growing cock and it jumped at her touch. Brian is so predictable. All he ever wants is for me to suck his cock. Good thing I demand a good, expensive meal after these trysts, or I'd get nothing out of them. She pulled his cock out of his trousers, feeling the organ spread out in her palm.
“Oh, that feels good. I love it when you stroke me off.”
She stroked his shaft, gripping him harder as her hand reached the base. Every time she squeezed, his cock jumped in her hand. She liked the way it looked and felt in her hand. Purple with arousal and thick with veins, the well-formed head glistened with pre-cum. In her years since starting college she had enjoyed many different types of cocks and Brian's was especially hot because it was so big and he was uncircumcised. She liked the look of hard cocks. When they were hard they were so sensitive. A twist a little too far this way or that way could hurt, yet she knew from what past lovers had told her, the pain felt so good. She liked pulling Brian's cock too far; just to get a painful, yet aroused reaction out of him. Although she felt impatient, she relished the fact that she was a good lay. Her blowjob skills had improved greatly over the months, and she could also make Brian come very quickly with her hand jobs.
As she gently rolled back his foreskin and stroked his growing shaft, she cradled his balls in her other hand. She liked the way his cock grew to nearly twice its size, when all she did was brush her fingers against it. It felt hard yet sinewy, like a garden hose full of water. She enjoyed the effect she had on him, and she relished her power. Sex was a heady power surge, and Catherine could not get enough of it.
Brian's cock was big; longer and thicker than other cocks she had the pleasure of sucking and fucking. Plus, at his age of fifty-eight, he stayed harder for a longer time, and it took him much longer to come than men her own age of twenty-two. Catherine never faked orgasms. She liked sex so much that she had no trouble coming every time she fucked. When she didn't feel like coming, she simply said so. Faking an orgasm was something she never even considered doing.
Tonight was one night, however, that she wished Brian would hurry up, come, and get it over with. She hated their trysts at the park because she got little if anything out of them. She would much rather stay in a nice hotel and spend the evening fucking without feeling any pressure, but that was not to be this evening. She needed to be at Silver Spring College in the morning for her new summer job. So here she sat, sexually unsatisfied and feeling a bit used wondering when she was going to meet a man who could satisfy her insatiable sexual needs.
Little did she know that several men, including a father and son, would please her over the upcoming summer weeks, including one man who was her match.
“Yes, stroke it, Baby. Go slowly.”
“Don't call me 'Baby'.” She hated it when he called her 'baby'. It made her feel like she was his property. “Baby” was also what her father called her mother when he was trying to excuse his extramarital affairs. He'd say, “I'm sorry, Baby,” when all he was sorry for was getting caught, not the actual affairs themselves. Catherine wondered if she saw married men because of the way her father treated her mother. At least with a married man, he couldn't force her to be exclusive. She didn't have to make a commitment to a married man or get too emotionally invested. She was interested in the sex more than the relationship. Whenever Brian called her “Baby”, he reminded her of why she saw married men and that made her feel uncomfortable. She preferred to be called “Honey” which sounded more affectionate. She'd even accept “Hon”, which was a popular term of endearment in her native Baltimore but Brian was from New York. She hated “Baby” because it sounded so crude to her. Her roommate's obnoxious boyfriend called her “Baby” when he was lying to her, so the word left a bad taste in Catherine's mouth.
“Slow down. Don't pump at it like that.”
I'll pump it any way I want. What if a cop drives up? We certainly can't explain ourselves to a Man in Blue. She stroked his cock gently, moving her palm up and down his shaft. His cock jumped in her hand. Rubbing her thumb across his head and then giving him a gentle squeeze, she heard him moan. Jizz leaked out and dribbled on the head, and she spread it with her fingers as if it were lubricant for her moist and hot hand. She curled against his chest, and pressed her ear against his rib cage. His heart thundered in his chest, as it always did when she beat him off. He loved a good hand job, and she really didn't mind turning him on so much, because turning him on made her feel sexy. No other woman turned him on the way she did. Not even his wife. But impatience overtook her mood this evening, and she wanted to do other things, like eat. Her stomach growled. She was famished, and all she could think about was a good steak dinner at their favorite restaurant. After he comes, we'll go out for something to eat. And he's going to come soon; by the way his cock feels right now.
“Suck on it. I love it when you suck on it.”
Of course he loved it. She honed her technique on him, and being that she was alone with him in his Mercedes, she decided to pass the time by practicing a bit more. His wife wouldn't go down on him, so she made sure she was the best suck he ever had. And she was.

Links to Elizabeth Black









Friday, September 2, 2011

Naughty Nights Press Talks with Chrystian Marrero, Author of Danvers Asylum…

NAUGHTY NIGHTS PRESS IS PROUD TO PRESENT CHRYSTIAN MARRERO, AUTHOR OF DANVERS ASYLUM, THE DARK CHILLING HORROR STORY THAT IS GUARANTEED TO CAUSE YOU NIGHTMARES!

clip_image004Welcome Chrystian to the Naughty Nights Press blog, it is lovely to have you here, as not only are you one of our very first authors to publish with NNP but also one of our first Horror Suspense authors.

NNP: So Chrystian for those who haven’t had the chance to get to know you yet, would you like to tell us a little or a lot about yourself?

Chrystian: I’m a seventeen year old Med student who simply loves to spend his free time writing suspenseful short stories and novels. But if you’ve read any of my other interviews, you probably already know that. So let me start by mentioning something I’ve never talked about. Writing has always been my passion, and since a very early age I’ve been writing not only novels and stories, but songs and poetry as well. In fact, a local upcoming band - with whom I have a special relationship - has decided to let me write some of the lyrics to their music; which is something I’m really looking forward to. Also, it’s always fun to mention that English is actually my second language and that Danvers Asylum is my first published novel.

NNP: What was your inspiration for writing Danvers Asylum and is it based on a real or fictional place?

Chrystian: It is based on a  real place and located in Danvers, Massachusetts. clip_image002The building used to be called Danvers State Insane Asylum . I believe it was torn down in 1998 or thereabouts. And as for my inspiration, well, it was really a combination of two things: a song titled Asylum by the band Disturbed, and an image that came to me one day while I was driving home. I saw a helpless man in a straightjacket being carried down a narrow hallway by two careless guards. The man was screaming and crying and pleading to be set free, but the guards seemed to be ignoring him completely. I saw a door covered in blood. I saw an old man taking pleasure in all these things, and urging the guards to hurt the helpless man. In the end, I saw enough to make me want to see the rest of it. So I knew I had to write it. It was really a matter of personal curiosity.

NNP: Can you tell our readers how it was that you were “found” as a writer?

Chrystian: Well, while I was working on Danvers Asylum, I had a few excerpts (and other short stories) up on StoryWrite - a website where upcoming writers can post their stories and receive feedback on the quality of their works. When Gina Kincade, owner of Naughty Nights Press read these excerpts, she immediately fell in love with them and asked if I could send her the whole novel. And after she read it, she offered to publish it through NNP! It was one of the best days of my life!

NNP: How does it feel now, two months down the track since Danvers Asylum was first released?

Chrystian: You know what? It’s quite unbelievable! Still, after all this time, it feels like something that came out of a dream. I still feel just as blessed as I did on the first day. Sometimes, hard work pays off!

NNP: What did your family say when you told them that you were going to be a published Author?

Chrystian: They were really supportive of me. Both my family and friends said they would buy the novel as soon as it came out, no matter how frightening or ‘over-the-top’ it might be. I’m really grateful for their unwavering support throughout this entire process.

NNP: Now we know that you look up to Stephen King as inspiration but one of the reviewers who read Danvers Asylum said and I quote, “Danvers Asylum is an invite to hell with a great enjoyment for the horror genre..a great new voice in horror fiction. In the same vein as Clive Barker, this book delivers.” How does that make you feel to be compared to Clive Barker?

Chrystian: Clive Barker is an excellent author. I’ve read a couple of his books and they are horrifying to say the least. I really can’t say anything other than I am honored to be compared to the likes of him, and I hope that that review will give people a clear sense of what Danvers Asylum is all about: pure, unrelenting horror!

NNP: Will your fans be able to expect another book from you soon and if so, can you tell us a bit about it?

Chrystian: They can most certainly expect another book in the near future! I’m working on my next novel as we speak and . . . well . . . that book is unorthodox in almost every way imaginable. It’s horror at its core, of course it is, and every person who has read the first few chapters has turned to me and said ‘whoa, this is too much man; this is the most frightening thing I’ve ever read’, but it has so many other elements and characteristics that I don’t think I can describe it as being simply “horror”. I think you’ll have to read it and see for yourself. Personally, I’m very exited about it!

NNP: Have you got some type of ritual that you stick to when you are writing?

Chrystian: Yes. A very simple one, really: I just write a thousand words a day. No more, no less. And I NEVER plan on what I have to write on a daily basis. I try to make it up as I go. It helps to keep the story interesting for both the reader and the author.

NNP: Is there anything Chrystian that you would say to writers who are hesitant about submitting work to a publisher?

Chrystian: The last thing you want to do is hesitate. If you feel you’ve written something that truly deserves to be acknowledged - to be read! - then DON’T hesitate to submit your work and receive the feedback it deserves. Take it from me: if you don’t put yourself out there, you’ll never find the recognition you deserve. Just go for it!

NNP: If you could say anything to your fans, what would that be?

Chrystian: I’d love to say thank you - first and foremost - you (the reader) are the reason I find the courage and determination to write every single day! And also . . . if you enjoyed Danvers Asylum . . . you’ll adore the next book! I only wish I can finish it in time to share it with all of you! Thanks for reading, and enjoy your nightmares!

Thank you so much Chrystian for joining us here today. It is such a delight to get to know one of our Naughty Nights Press Authors and I am sure our readers have learned a lot more about you. Good luck with your future endeavors and we hope to have your happy, smiling face, gracing our pages again, in the not too distant future.

Links To Chrystian Marrero:

Naughty Nights Press Author Page

Facebook page

DANVERS ASYLUM CAN BE PURCHASED

THROUGH THE FOLLOWING SITES: 

SMASHWORDS: Use the code word HC96G to purchase your copy of Danvers Asylum and receive a 20% Discount. This discount is available until September 8th 2011

AMAZON: Available on Kindle

Synopsis:

Can you handle a stay at Danvers Asylum? Insanity is the only way out!

Welcome to Danvers State Insane Asylum, home to some of the most demented men and women in the country. Doctor Eugene Charles - head of the asylum and manager of its inner workings - has seen his share of insanity in the eyes of every patient residing behind the walls of his asylum. But the newest addition to his facility will redefine the meaning of insanity once and for all. John Stephenson, an American writer of horror/fiction, is about to publish his latest creation and the haunting, subliminal messages that go along with them. His books are the works of a madman and the hidden verses within them will change the lives of whoever reads them . . . including yours.

AN EXCERPT FOR THOSE WHO ARE GAME ENOUGH TO READ IT!

The man with the golden mustache bent over and grabbed John by his feet, clutching the ankles with hands of an angered man hiding the subtle hint of fear hovering over his thoughts for a mere instant and urged the “newbie” to take hold of the unconscious man’s arms and lift him. Both men grunted heavily as they lifted John Stephenson up in the air.

“This guy’s heavy!” the rookie complained.

“Sure is. He doesn’t look like it, though.”

John’s body swung from side to side like an old, ragged hammock waving through the wind as the guards marched through the empty hall of the grand facility. Distant screams were echoing all around them, bouncing off the walls and creeping into the ears of those unfortunate enough to roam the deadened corridor leading into the facility’s West Wing; a special part of the establishment for a special kind of person. 

“They say dead bodies lose a fair amount of weight after a while, but I’ve always thought the quite the opposite. They actually seem to put on a little bit more weight just before they start to rot – at least three or four pounds – and it works just as well for unconscious bodies. It’s as if their souls become… denser; sort of heavier, by the minute.”

As the two men made their way through the narrow and seemingly endless hall holding on to a battered middle-aged novelist by the name of John Stephenson, the screams surrounding them focused on the west. The unsettling shrieks of terror and pain were coming from the depths of the very direction in which they were headed. At the end of the corridor there were two iron doors blocking their path. They were really old, perhaps almost as old as the building itself and yet they held the most important job within the whole facility. Beyond these imposing iron doors lay the unthinkable – a special place for special people. That’s where they were taking John Stephenson – the tremendously feared West Wing of Danvers State Insane Asylum.

Haunting images of lingering death and perpetual sorrow plague the mind of whoever disturbs the macabre domain of the asylum’s West Wing, distinctively enveloped by the feeling of extreme human suffering and its surreal resemblance to some kind of emotional torture chamber. It is the one part of the entire facility that is best left alone. Ignorance is bliss when it comes to that section of the asylum. 

Suddenly, the vibrant screams of those locked away beyond the rigid iron doors were degraded and silenced by the monotonous and irritating sound of a wretched rattling released by the guards’ rusty key chain, announcing their arrival to the tune of little metallic, golden keys rubbing against each other through an abrasive choir of intimidation.

The prisoners of the West Wing knew all too well the nature of that sudden visit by the guards. They only received three visits a day and this one wasn’t a regular. The first one usually took place about an hour after dawn, which was followed by a second mid-day visit. Then, right before sunset, the doors would open for a third time and they’d receive their final meal of the day before being locked away and left forgotten until the early rays of light of the following day would liven the hall with its benevolent presence.

But this time the doors were opened off schedule, which they knew meant either someone had been chosen for a much dreaded trip to the third floor, or a brand new inductee was about to grace the family of the damned. The latter seemed to make more sense to them all, and so they waited patiently for their chance to greet the newcomer through the bulletproof glass of their respective iron doors.

As the uniformed duo made their way through the narrow hallway of a place that felt haunted to all who dared intrude, they discovered something odd within one of the rooms.

It was a long and narrow hallway with small, rusty doors on both sides of it. Ten doors to the right and ten to the left; all separated by no more than a twelve-foot gap between them. They were all padded isolation rooms meant to contain the so-called “extreme” patients with great help from the infamous straightjackets they all wore inside. The compressed and overly private interiors of these deadened chambers gave them a very unique feel; they seemed to be little cubicles of grief and despair. 

“What the fuck is that?” the brown haired novice guard shouted in shock.

“What’s what?”

“Over there; third door on the right. Is that blood?”

“Oh shit! I knew this would happen.”