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Black Cougar Curse


Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Lily Harlem and Mattress Music

For my very first post on my very new blog site, I'm turning things over to author Lily Harlem who will introduce everyone to her upcoming release from Ellora's Cave.

Take it away, Lily!

My e-book ‘Mattress Music’ is due for release on 9th of November at Ellora’s Cave. It’s the first in a set of three short stories focusing on ‘rock and roll’ in a very literal sense!

Here’s the blurb:

Is it possible to lose one’s ability to orgasm? Nina has. Lately, her fun weekend hook-ups have been more “ho-hum” than “hot damn”! It doesn’t help that she has three flatmates and is forced to play loud music to mask the sounds of her lovemaking. Talk about distracting! Of course, there’s another reason Nina’s less than satisfied these days…she’s just having a hard time admitting it.

It’s a good thing she’s met Ian, then. Not content to be a weekend hook-up, Ian is set on giving Nina what she’s been missing while making her admit what she needs. His talented fingers—and other body parts—are up to the task. But Ian’s not admitting a few things himself. Turns out his fingers can do more than make Nina’s body sing.

When she discovers his secret, it’s time for both of them to face the music.

And here is an excerpt - adults only it’s hot!

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

Copyright © LILY HARLEM, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“You’re fucking awesome,” he whispered into my ear on a hot, panting breath.

“You too,” I said, running my hand down his perfectly smooth back. Not a pimple anywhere, just acres of glorious hot, male flesh and a deeply guttered spine lined with solid muscle. “Really good.”

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Liar.”


“Liar, you didn’t come.”

“I did, it was great…you were great.” Lying to a man who was buried inside me was not something I was good at.

“I’m not stupid, Nina, I can tell when a woman orgasms. I can’t always tell the difference between real and fake, but bloody hell, you didn’t even try to pretend, not even a little wriggle and a gasp at the right moment.”

Frowning and shifting my hips I muttered, “Sorry,” as I pushed out from under him.

“Don’t be sorry.” He rolled to his side, bent his arm and propped his head on his hand. The flat silver cross around his neck hung toward the mattress. “Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it for next time,” he said, still catching his breath.

Next time? Not likely. One-night stands were my game. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I pulled the duvet to my chin and turned to the wall. “It was me.”

He caught my jaw. “Tell me,” he ordered, tipping me to face him. “I want to know.”

Through the dim light, blushed orange by a streetlamp, I could see his dark eyes staring straight into mine, unblinking. One of my flatmates banged crockery in the kitchen next to my room then a deep rumble of laughter from one of the guys, Jerry I think, filtered through the thin wall.

“Why do you care?” I asked, toes and fingers curling.

“I’m lying naked in bed with you, we’ve just shared as intimate an experience as two people can, and you wonder why I’m bothered that you didn’t have as good a time as me? Would I be human if I didn’t give a shit?”

I shrugged. Candle in the Wind had finished, and in its place Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me was swirling around us.

Too late to save myself from falling—

That was me, I thought, too far gone on this road of shagging any cock I could find to be saved. In my old flat, living with Dee and Fiona, life had been great and mattress music was never needed. We all just went for it, having as much sex and as many noisy orgasms as possible. We would giggle about it over breakfast and swap stories about what racy shenanigans we’d been up to.

But now they’d moved on. They were both head over heels in love and settled in their own homes, leaving me out on a limb and living here with strangers.

Of course I wasn’t technically alone, but if I was honest I’d never felt so lonely. I didn’t want to be, loneliness was like a dull, gray hole swelling inside me. Starting in my stomach and stretching outward. And in the center of this hole was a new bitter emotion―envy. I envied what Dee and Fi had found, lasting love with respect and commitment. But admitting what I wanted and changing the fact that there was no one special in my life were two separate issues.

More pressingly, at the moment anyway, nor could I change the fact that I hadn’t orgasmed since I’d moved. My one-night stands just weren’t doing it for me anymore. The intimacy of getting naked and sweaty with someone wasn’t satisfying the hunger, the need that was eating away at me like an itch I couldn’t quite reach.

I’d been here three weeks, three fucks. But each week there had been something sneaking into my brain that had distracted me from the delicious build-up to climax. Deadly quiet the first week when I was with a bodybuilding scaffolder from Durham, every mattress squeak and grunt sliding under the door and echoing through the walls. With Dave, an earnest accountant from Chelsea, a knock on my door midway through a blowjob put me off my stride. And now this morose mattress music was stopping me from having a great time with the truly gorgeous Ian.

“Nina?” Ian pressed, dragging me from my depressed musing.

“It was the damn music,” I said with a frown. He wasn’t going to let it drop so I might as well fess up. “I couldn’t concentrate. You were doing it right, great, but I just kept thinking of Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana and Elton singing at his piano with his big, wobbling white wig and that mole thing he used to paint on his cheek.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. A big guffaw that shook the bed.

“Shh!” I pressed my fingers to his lips.

“Thank God for that,” he said, grinning. “Thought I’d lost my touch.”

“It’s not funny,” I whispered.

“No, no.” He tried to straighten out his grin. “Of course it’s not. I’ve just never thought of it before, the words in a song competing for the attention of the woman I’m trying to please.” He dropped a kiss to my lips. “So why did you put it on if you don’t like it?”

“So no one will hear. The walls here are so thin, and I’ve got male flatmates who I don’t want perving with glasses pressed to the walls.”

“You think they would?”

I sighed. “Probably not, they seem nice enough, but just the same…”

“You want your privacy.”
“Exactly.” I paused then sighed. “We should have taken a cab and gone to yours.”

“Yeah, but this was closer, much closer, just a quick walk around the corner.” He smoothed the hair from my face. It always went wild after sex. The hundreds of tiny, copper corkscrews seemed to take on lives of their own. “Maybe we could leave the music off and do it really, really quietly,” he whispered, spreading springs of my hair over the pillowcase.

“No,” I said. “That won’t work, I’ll be too conscious of even our breathing, or if the mattress squeaks.”

His eyes narrowed and a muscle in his cheek flexed, then he got up, walked to the iPod and finally silenced Elton. “This isn’t over you know.”

Buy link

Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking farmland, she allows her imagination to run free and revels in being able to use the written word as an outlet for her creativity. Lily's stories are made up of colourful characters traveling on everyone's favourite journey — falling in love. If the story isn't romantic, sexy and exciting, it won't be written, at least not by this author. Lily also won the 2009 Love Honey Award for Erotic Fiction with an American inspired tale titled ‘Madam President’. Read it for free at her website and check out other great authors and hot inspirational pictures.


Natalie Dae said...



Tess MacKall said...

Oh, the wonderful Natalie Dae has dropped by to say WOOT!

Yes, ma'am. Waaaaay Woot! To Lily's book and to the beautiful design of this blog site and to my website.

Much love to your, sweetie.

Natalie Dae said...

It's all about the WOOTin'!


C. Zampa said...

Ohhh....Love your site, Tess!

What a nice cover, and I enjoyed the steamy excerpt. I half-laughed, half-cried over the faked orgasm. Laughed because..well..who hasn't done that? And sort of cried, wondering why we feel we HAVE to fake them soemtimes?

But I did like the premise in the scene, one I don't see often in romance--where a man DOES notice it's fake. I love it!

Again, love your new, sexy site!

Tess MacKall said...

You know, Carol, it is pretty interesting. Women do indeed fake it and men either pretend to be oblivious to it or truly are.

That topic bears exploring. Might get a blog out of that. lol

Lily Harlem said...

Thanks so much for having me Tess. I love it here - it's sooo pretty !!

Faking it. Mmm, I had to use this excerpt which is right at the beginning of the story because any further into the book and it would become clear that Ian is not all he appears to be. ;-)

Let's just say I am soooo jealous of Nina!

Hee hee

Lily x

PS Hi Nat you clever girl!

Tess MacKall said...

It was wonderful having you here, Lily. I truly enjoyed your excerpt.

And he isn't as he appears. YUM, a mystery. lol

Fiona said...

Hey Lily, good to see that you are still churning out stuff to make my toes curl! Your last short story sent me into the next room for some "me" time! This one looks like a winner, too!

Lily Harlem said...

Oh, Fiona! Do tell what story was that?


Fiona said...

The Madame President one that you wont the award for! Most excellent read, that was!

Natalie Dae said...

Hiya Lily!