January 10 Newsletter
By TEB - Sunday, January 03, 2010
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JANUARY NEWSLETTER
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| Welcome to the January 2010 Total-E-Bound newsletter.
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| We have a few brand new features for you this year - Kaenar Unkovers - where the wonderful and inquisitive Kaenar Langford uncovers everything fun, naughty and exciting just for you! Hot-Shots! mini stories - one each month, from a different TEB author every time. The Naked Chef - every month the glorious Aurora Rose Lynn will share some of her favourite recipes with you. And of course, as always we have news about our authors and their latest releases in eBook, audio book and print. You can also check out our peer to peer reviews, our monthly newsletter contest and find out when and where you can listen to Total-E-Talk radio shows! |
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| Dates for your diary: Author chat night: 7-10pm EST on Thursday 14th January at Joyfully Reviewed chat room e-World Radio Show: 5pm EST/10pm GMT on 16th January at Total-E-Talk Radio |
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| January eBook Releases from Total-E-Bound Publishing:
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Buy Book | Kim Dare Book one in the Pack Discipline Series Dominance and submission mean different things to werewolves than to humans. Once Marsdon and Bennett try things the human way – nothing can ever be the same for them again. Werewolf tradition is very clear. The alpha pair is the corner stone of the pack. Equality between the alphas is everything. Alphas mate with alphas. Human leather clubs work to different rules. Dominants mate with submissives. Power is exchanged freely and for the ultimate pleasure of all. Sometimes the most alpha men in the club find happiness with the most omega men. And sometimes the omegas are more than they first appear to be. A wolf might be able to hide his identity and play anonymously in those clubs for a little while, but he can't ignore reality forever. Marsdon and Bennett have lives to get back to, they have packs to return to...they have wolfen traditions to follow. They have just one more night together before they have to lose each other forever. All they can do now, is make the most of it. | 
Buy Book | Kris Norris Book one in the Enchanted Lovers Series Mira has only five days to lose her virginity, or face certain death...and only one man is up for the job. Shunned by her Kingdom because she's been given the gift of healing over fire, Mira anxiously awaits her freedom. All she has to do is complete her Rite of Passage and pass the auspicious Ritual of Sisterhood. There's just one catch. If she doesn't lose her virginity before the Ritual begins, she'll die. And just her luck, none of the Kingdom's tutors will touch her. Hoping to ensure failure, Mira's been given a tutor with a curse of his own. Hailing from Garinth, Keegan's plagued with a serious problem. His body only reacts to women who possess certain qualities. So when he wakes to find himself imprisoned in a Kingdom ruled by witches, he can't imagine how any of them measure up. But then, he never counted on Mira, or the way his body comes to life, filling his head with delicious images of seduction. He'd love nothing more than to tame this pretty little witch, but can he claim her before their time runs out? | 
Buy Book | Sable Grey When a deranged stalker with pyrokenetic gifts becomes a dangerous threat to Belinda Boutwell, security agent Dean Rynes will reveal all of his secrets just to protect her. Belinda Boutwell has had dreams of a the shadow wolf for years. But she doesn't realise that Dean Rynes, her security agent is the wolf until one night when they seek comfort in one another's arms. Dean has always loved Belinda but kept it secret until after her husband's murder. Now the man responsible for killing her husband is coming for Belinda and Dean must risk everything to save her from the deranged stalker. | 
Buy Book | Willa Okati
Matthew's at a place in his life where he's got nowhere to go but up. Reckless, he walks into the heart of Kingsoak, the most dangerous tangle in the urban jungle - where instead of robbers, rogues and criminals, he finds a community where the outcasts take care of their own, graffiti is a stunning art form, and a rakish street-fighter waits to transform Matthew's life from the ordinary to the legendary. But will Matthew have the courage to stay with Gale, or will he return to his familiar world at the break of day? | 
Buy Book | Carol Lynne Book two in the Bodyguards in Love Series After a lifetime of abuse, Jared Grant was rescued by Brier Blackstone and taken to one of the safest places he knew, the bodyguard dormitory of the Three Partners Protection Agency. For the first time, Jared is surrounded by men whose job it is to protect, not hurt him. One of his protectors, Sebastian James, knows a little something about abuse. Once a victim of abuse before he and his brother were taken from an abusive household and put into separate foster homes, Seb learned to harden his heart as a way of survival. Now, the soft spoken and scared Jared threatens the shell Seb spent years fortifying. When Jared’s tormentor threatens him from jail, it’s up to Seb and the rest of the bodyguards to keep Jared safe until he can testify at his abuser’s trial. However, the close contact might be more than Seb’s hard shell can withstand. | 
Buy Book | Cheryl Dragon If you could have every fantasy, would you do it? Would you do whatever your boyfriend wanted? Facing their one year anniversary, DJ Jenny and club owner Mitch aren't your normal couple. They live in the LA club scene, but even their naughty fantasies would raise the eyebrows of the clientele. Their own limits are pushed when they confess their desires and make it happen. Can they embrace each others' without ruining the love? From abduction to the bad school girl, they'll try them all! | 
Buy Book | With her psychic abilities, Sophie occasionally helps out the police on cases that appear to dead end. Joe Palermo is a Suffolk County detective and Sophie’s brother-in-law’s partner. Sophie and Joe dated briefly when she was a teenager. Joe, upon seeing her again, is very interested in taking up where he once left off. He can’t imagine why he let a woman who looks like her get away. Sophie is adamant and tells him straight out, she wants no relationship with him. Still a woman doesn’t have to have a relationship to sleep with a man, does she? She was too young the first time around, but Sophie is a woman now. A woman who knows exactly what she wants. | 
Buy Book | It's swinging London in 1973. Britain's just going 'decimal'; Carnaby Street is the centre of fashion – all of Europe goes there to shop. Soho has yet to become the gay hub it now is. There are no computers to speak of, no Internet dating, no mobile phones, nor even answering machines or VCRs – certainly no CD's or DVDs. Yet, somehow Britain survived, and the Brits even managed to enjoy themselves, despite all that deprivation! Peter Buchanan is a struggling young singer/actor waiting for his big break in the West End of London. John Reed has been a London bobby all his working life, and has recently been promoted to Inspector. When these two men meet by chance, there is an instant attraction – but not before some bumps in the road to love have been straightened out... | 
Buy Book | Highland Gaymes by Carol LynneThere's more to a man than what's under his kilt. Shaw Fitzgerald loves touring the United States with his brothers. A fiddle player since an early age, music is the only thing he's ever been passionate about. That is, until he sees Curt Macaula compete for the first time. As a competitor in the Highland Games, Curt knows how important it is to concentrate on the individual events. Getting distracted while tossing a one hundred and fifty pound pole isn't an option. Away from his events, Curt is free to ogle the very pretty member of the Brothers Fitzgerald band. Toward the end of the season, Curt knows it's time to make his move. With Shaw being guarded by four macho brothers, it won't be easy, but Curt is determined to win the man of his dreams. Good Cop, Bad Cop by Jenna Byrnes and Jude Mason Two hot studs, an evening of scorching sex, a pub, and the gaymes begin...or have they? Officer Kevin Sands and his lover get off on playing games - role playing games. When one of their escapades goes awry, will someone else pay the price for their fun? Or can the lovers solve a mystery that could mean the end of everything they hold dear? Elliot's War by Kim Dare The Welsh and the English. Celts and invaders. Captors and prisoners. Victors and slaves. Let the war games begin! The woodland war is billed by the university as an important exploration of differing cultural traditions within the British Isles. As far as Elliot understands it, the game involves the local Welsh students and those who invade the university from across the border, waging a war in the woodlands that surround the university. Elliot's not quite sure how he ended up agreeing to take part in the war game. Nor is he entirely sure how he ended up running through the forest wearing a skimpy toga while being chased by a dozen Celtic warriors - all of them painted a very historically inaccurate shade of blue woad. For better or worse, Elliot's about to get an education that wasn't advertised in the university prospectus. Crossed Hearts by Lisabet Sarai When love is the prize, everyone wins. For the past six years, Jason Hofstadter has attended the Four States Annual Scrabble Tournament. Jason comes to the Four States for two reasons - to play Scrabble and to get laid. Every year since his first, he has managed to hook up with one of the other players for some sexual fun. This year he has a chance at the grand prize in the tournament. Meanwhile, he figures he has hit the jackpot when he spots handsome, bookish Matt Sawyer, who's competing at the Four States for the first time. Shy and seemingly innocent, Matt turns out to be full of surprises. First, he jumps Jason in the rest room at Starbucks. Then he reveals that he's into BDSM and encourages Jason to experiment with topping him. Finally, despite his lack of experience with tournament play, Matt ends up competing with Jason in the semi-final round. When Matt throws the game he should have won, Jason is forced to confront his own feelings - about winning, about casual sex, and about Matt. Rough Riders by Devon Rhodes Playing by different rules can lead to heartbreak, but changing the game plan can be the tiebreaker. Luke Briscoe has a good reason to stay in the closet with his team, the Rough Riders. Bitter past experience has taught him to be cautious around athletic teams. But after Mario, his teammate and lover of ten years, leaves him, tired of the secrecy, Luke is forced to confront his fears, especially since the sexy and confident new member of the team, Derek Grimm, has no problem with being out and proud. Derek has wanted Luke from the first moment he saw him. But he knows the timing is all wrong, and vows to let Luke have the time he needs to recover from his breakup. As time goes on, though, Derek becomes frustrated with Luke's determination to stay in the closet. Derek and Mario are out, and the team is fine with it. Why is Luke still holding back? Derek wonders if any amount of time will ever be enough. Maybe it's time to try a different game plan... Contact Point by Gwendolyn Cease When two men who have nothing to lose and come together for one night, they both discover a connection they never thought possible. Jesse Chandler needed a place to get out of the storm. What he found was a bar catering exclusively to wolf shifters. Cade Reynolds, pack Alpha and bar owner, sees nothing but trouble when the small human wanders into his bar. When Jesse signs up for the pool tournament, Cade decides to let him participate, so he'll lose and leave. Instead, Jesse wins every game he plays until a storm puts the brakes on everything. Jesse desperately needed to win the tournament prize money, but instead of a nice cosy room, he ends up squatting under a tree for shelter. When Cade invites him home for the night, Jesse has no choice, but to accept. Sit under a tree in the pouring rain or sleep in a house...No one ever said Jesse was a fool. All Cade wanted was to offer Jesse a place to stay for the night. But one touch from the smaller male made him realise that sleeping wasn't what was on his mind. Cade wanted Jesse, but the wolf wanted to keep Jesse forever. | 
Buy Book | Marie Harte
Book three in the Life in the Vrail SeriesA mysterious mercenary meets his match in a sexy peacekeeper with something to prove. Temis has spent years working hard to be taken seriously as a peacemaker, battling her beauty and prejudices in a male dominated field. She'll be damned if she'll let a mercenary murderer and thief ruin her shot at solving an important case. But Gren is no ordinary man, as their undercover mission proves all too well. He's not just a mystical warrior, but a lover who's put her under his spell. When the job is over, can she say good-bye, or will she give up what she's worked so hard to earn, all for a love in the stars | 
Buy Book | Jenika Snow A past that haunts your every step, and a future that promises the most delicious seductions. When Addie moves to the quaint town of Clarity, she thinks she has finally escaped her horrid past. Working at the hottest club in town, "Vitali", proves to be a stepping stone in the right direction, but when she finds herself extremely drawn sexually to her boss, Dimitri, she doesn't know if she can pursue him and leave her past behind. Nor does she know that the man she has grown so attracted to is actually a Vampire. Addie and Dimitri find themselves irrevocably attracted to each other and nothing seems to quench their hunger except being together. They must work as one to overcome not only the reawakening of Addie's past, but also the monumental change that is about to take place in both of their lives. | 
Buy Book | Jade Buchanan Wanna ride the Bull? — Wes Scott's life is turned inside out by the most enticing cowboy he's ever met. Radio DJ Wesley Scott is celebrating his new posting with a Welcome to Canada party thrown by his co-workers, but he can't keep his eyes off the mechanical bull in the corner or the tall, dark and burly cowboy beside it. Isaac "Bull" Fintan - former bull rider and current rancher - captures Wes' attention with his scrolling tattoos, swaggering walk and smoky drawl, but it's the invitation to a private party-for-two that has him panting for more. | 
Buy Book | AKM Miles The instant attraction between Keen and Lance leads to some of the most bizarre and amazing occurrences, not to mention deep love and fabulous sex. Chaos Magnets. That's the nickname Keen and Lance earned through several unexpected acts of bravery among madness and mayhem. They were drawn to each other upon first meeting. Good thing Lance would be staying next door to Keen while visiting his step-sister. It's a wonder they have any time for the relationship to develop, since every time they go out it seems something happens and they end up talking to the police and explaining things. Lance's martial arts background and Keen's brains and brawn save the day more than once. | 
Buy Book | Ginny Michaels Book one in The Training of Maggie Malone Series The only thing scarier than admitting to ones desires is acting on them. After living for years with her suppressed desires, Maggie Malone has finally had enough. In search of satisfaction, she joins Club Exotica, a pricy and exclusive BDSM club. Maggie's done her homework and knows the journey she's about to embark on will be filled with encounters that will test her courage and endurance. What she hadn't planned on was having her business partner and star of her erotic dreams, Julian Daniels end up as her Master. Facing him with her desires is embarrassing enough, allowing him to help her fulfil them will be damn near impossible. | 
Buy Book | Aurora Rose Lynn Book two in the Sex in Sessions Series Chocolate, whipped cream and a cherry on top are mouth-watering treats on a sexy body... Charlie Heplewich, the female bailiff, has it bad for the judge. After court is adjourned, she can no longer wait to make her move. When Edgar Hanks is unable to boot up his computer, he gives her the chance she's been looking for - mouth-watering temptation in the form of whipped cream, chocolate and sex. Edgar Hanks has eagerly watched Charlie from across the courtroom for two long years. He believes she's perfect for him with big breasts, a curvy figure and a sassy mouth. What more can a man ask for...except chocolate, whipped cream and a cherry on top? | 
Buy Book | Jane Davitt Simon Weatherly is recovering from a bad break up with his boyfriend Luke and in a rut. A knock at the door brings Chris Ross into his life, a man who, like him, was involved with Luke, both as his employee and lover. Cheated of his wages, Chris has taken a valuable book from Luke, which he offers to sell to Simon, a collector, an offer Simon accepts without realising the consequences. In the days that follow, debts are repaid and Simon and Chris discover that they share more than just an ex; they're a matched pair, one seeking control and one wanting to give it up. |
KAENAR UNKOVERED
You Never Know Where Research Is Going To Take You
by Kaenar Langford Every so often you get to have one of those experiences that seem larger than life. I’d have to say that spending the evening with 2,000 people at the largest single fetish night in the world would definitely count as one of those experiences.Every year Northbound Leather in Toronto puts on an incredible gathering attracting a veritable cornucopia of fetishists from all over the world. Every year Northbound Leather gives the event a different theme and 2009’s was Tribe. I’d picked up one of the promotional postcards during the summer and had stared at the photo on it with a great deal of curiosity and a bit of apprehension. My fetish experience is limited and this event looked like it might definitely push my comfort envelope. But I wanted to go. So I bought my ticket and, since Toronto is almost three hours from home, emailed friends until I had found a place to stay. Through years and years of teaching kindergarten, I’ve planned and pulled off a lot of field trips, but none as weird and wonderful as this one. My well organised educational excursions would start like this. 
This expedition also began with a trip on a school bus: the one Northbound Leather had provided to shuttle people from Woody’s on Church Street to The Sound Academy where Tribe was to take place. Sure it was a school bus, but picture it with these passengers.
The bus trip was a great indicator of things to come. So was the write-up Northbound Leather had posted about Tribe.THEME and FASHION SHOW DETAILS: Tribe is the story of a young man’s journey or rite of passage into manhood. He will be put through initiation ceremonies, which he must pass in order to be a full-fledged member of the tribe. Some of those activities include: - Bullwhip/Flogging - Swordsmanship - Play Piercing - Fire Play - Corseting - Blood Sports/Cutting Be prepared to have your senses overwhelmed with true fetish fantasies awakened. Be prepared to join people from all over the world expressing their deepest desires in the way they dress and play at this once a year spectacular event. Be prepared for the BIG ONE. I really wasn’t sure what to expect but once I got to The Sound Academy, I soon realized there was absolutely no reason for trepidation. Tribe was absolutely incredible. I arrived just after 10:00 pm and made my way out into the huge crowd to walk around and look at all the people and their amazing fetish outfits. Thanks to Sean Magennis and Northbound Leather for the photos.   
 
 
If you were willing to pay more for your ticket, there was an array of dungeon equipment in the VIP area upstairs where Lady Viktoria made sure everything ran smoothly. Thanks to Miklos Legrady for allowing me to use his photos of the VIP dungeon area.  
The cavernous main floor also had a very popular dungeon area where people played all evening. 
Just after 11:00, the lights went down and I could see movement onstage. People were getting into place to begin the fashion show. The lights went up and this is what we saw onstage. 
As my brain registered what it was seeing, I remembered the call that went out for people to take part in the 'fashion show'. The look for the models is real people who have tattoos, piercings, scarification, branding, alternative looks and body modification. Real people are being used, not models, to fit the bill. What followed was not a fashion show like any I've ever seen. It was an erotic, provocative, incredibly elaborate, sexy stage show following a young man’s journey or rite of passage into manhood. The audience was captivated as we went along for the ride and what a wild ride it was. Remember the activities listed above? Bloodletting, cutting, fire play etc- this is where they all came into play to provide an absolutely unforgettable experience for the audience. The 'actors' gave an incredible look at the array of people who move through a world in which I have very little experience. Through more wonderful photographs from Sean and Northbound Leather, I'll take you through the journey we went on as we followed the young man’s rite of passage: Tribe. Bullwhip/Flogging
Swordsmanship  
Play Piercing 
Fire Play
Corsetting 
Blood Sports/Cutting  
The actors in the piece looked incredible in their outfits made by Northbound Leather. Here are a few of them. Punkers 
Women in leather  
Priestess 
One of the ‘punks’ 
Warriors 
When the erotic spectacle ended an hour later, I felt almost drained from the visual, visceral high.  
But I can’t wait to see what Northbound Leather has in store for next year. | ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I swear to God, he keeps staring at me. I don’t know why Ted is staring at me, but there it is. I feel as though I’m being turned inside out by his gaze. His gaze is like a ten ton weight strapped to my body, and I’m being pulled down, down, down. Down to the centre of myself. Or maybe just down to some horrible place he wants to put me in. He’s definitely trying to send me a message with all of his staring. I just don’t know what the message is. I can’t translate his eyes. I haven’t got the secret code that would help me crack it. Jeanie would know, but then she’s Jeanie. She has the supreme confidence of the stupid. I wish I was stupid. Even though that isn’t true at all. I’m glad that I know things. I’m just aware that they’re sometimes the wrong things. I know what subtext means, but I don’t know the subtext of real life. I understand metaphor, but I have no idea what he is a metaphor for, or what metaphor I can make out of his gaze. His gaze is a— His gaze is a... His gaze makes me want to hide. I want to hide in the plain and boring subtexts of my own life, instead of whatever levels he’s operating on. His levels are big and masculine and laidback and handsome. My levels are uneven, and I keep sliding down them into nonsense and mess. I can’t keep things straight. I keep them even less straight when he touches his trainer to my shin underneath the table. At first it’s easy to ignore. Maybe he thinks I’m the table leg. Maybe he thinks my leg is Jeanie’s, even though Jeanie is obviously going to sleep with Derek tonight. Maybe he’s had too much to drink. But then his trainer slides up my leg to my knee, and I wish that I had had too much to drink. If I was drunk, I wouldn’t have to over-think this. I could just ignore it. I could crack the code. But I haven’t and I don’t and now his trainer is resting on the chair between my thighs. At this point, I am aware that he has very long legs, and could, conceivably, get his foot right up to some interesting places. I glance at him, but his staring eyes don’t tell me anything new. It could be that he’s just horny, and knows he isn’t going to get anything from Jeanie. Sometimes I get stuck with the friend who Jeanie is less interested in. Sometimes I don’t mind. I won’t deny that I’m a horny girl myself. But this is still odd. I think he’s too handsome. We’ve known him a long time, and he never previously expressed an interest. Plus there’s this: why doesn’t he just say? Why can’t he just get it all out in the open? Why can’t he just ask, if that’s what he wants? Can’t he see that I’m floundering in uncertainty? “Want some more wine, Cal?” he asks, and the rough burr of canvas disappears from my inner thigh. He leans forward and snags the bottle, pouring before I’ve said a word. Maybe he wants me to have no words. Drunk and silent, that’s his type. I drink, anyway. * * * Our holiday in the country passes, and he does not become clearer. I drink as much as he gives me on the third night, and come close to being unconscious. But being devoid of all of my thoughts and faculties doesn’t help matters. I don’t think it’s about over-thinking. He just carries me over his shoulder up to bed, and sprawls me out for what should be his delectation. I feel his hands on me, briefly. Warm hands, skimming over my hips and my waist. They leave a little memory of themselves behind, for later. For in the morning, when I wake up. I liked the feeling of his hands on my hips. I liked the feeling of his shoulder pressing into my stomach. He’s so...big. I notice his...size later, when I stumble down for breakfast and find him stood in front of the open fridge in just his underpants. It’s weird— I think I notice everything, even though my mind goes blank. My mind goes all blank and fuzzy, and then I see him really clear. He has these long arms and long legs and this low winter light skin, everywhere. He is the colour of December. He is the colour of something that needs to be spread on top of something else. I like his shoulders, as broad as beams, and the tattoo he mysteriously has. On his back, right above the band of the jockeys, there is a tramp stamp. It’s so much a tramp stamp that it actually seems to be pointing down towards his ass. My mind does not un-blank or un-fuzz, not even when he turns around and sees me there. “All right, Cal?” he says. In fact, I think him turning around makes it worse. I try to remember that I’m a Professor of Literature, but I can’t remember anything. The text is his completely casual and amiable near-nakedness, and the sub is me. I am sublimated by the stripe of fur right down through the centre of his chest and the straight arrow-ness of his body, not quite muscular but not quite flabby, either, as though he can’t be bothered to work-out. Maybe he just works out by fucking millions of women senseless. I’m sure they lose their senses when he gets out whatever animal he’s storing in those underpants. “Cal?” he repeats, but I don’t say anything again. He’s walking towards me now, that’s why. I can’t speak if he’s walking towards me. I’ve never had this reaction to someone before. I don’t even know what this reaction is. Blank Mind, I shall call it. “Bit hungover, are you?” he says. Now he’s stood inches away from me. I could just reach out and touch his like-a-sky skin. When he bends slightly I can see the faint bumps of his ribcage, though this sight doesn’t make him seem skinny at all. The bones make him look even bigger instead, as though he’s composed of dinosaur skeletons inside. Angular but thick at the same time, heavy and slight, square and masculine but with those cheekbones. Girl’s cheekbones. I bet he could crush me with just one of his dinosaur hands. I want to reach out and make him my archaeology project. But then he takes on the strangest expression, and I can’t touch him. It’s like all the consternation sinks from his face, all the frown goes, and there’s something like the staring left behind. Those intense dark eyes, sliding up and down me. I expect him to say do you like what you see, but he doesn’t. Instead he goes with: “That’s a really cute pair of shorts.” Shortly before putting his hand over the hem of one side of them. Of course, in order to do this he has to cup my ass. But to his credit, he really makes it seem like he’s just feeling the material. It’s not his fault that there’s so little of my shorts to work with. It’s not his fault that my ass is quite big. Things just conspire against him. Or against me, I can’t tell. It definitely seems like it’s against me when he goes back to the fridge, however. * * * He gets worse. Or better, depending on the way you look at things. I knock on the bathroom door, he tells me to come in. I do, and he’s naked and in the tub. Of course he is! What reasonable person doesn’t let people come in and see them in the bath? I think I am a reasonable person, but I can’t make myself go right into the bathroom. Not until he asks me to pass him the soap, at least. Then I do, but I don’t look. I don’t look. I don’t look until all my thoughts fall away and then I do. He’s just staring at me, waiting for me to. But that’s okay, because he looks great all slickered up and soapy. I watch him stroke himself with a handful of creamy foam, and that isn’t bad at all. It’s bad that he’s tormenting me, but I can cope with that. My blank and fuzzy mind says I can. It lets me watch as he slides his big hand down, down, to what’s waiting ju-u-st below the waterline. He does it so slowly, so deliberately, that I suppose I could take it as a joke. And true enough, he’s kind of smirking. But then again, maybe it isn’t a smirk. Maybe it’s a dare, and he just wants me to plunge into the bathtub with him and take over with the soap. I bet he feels good all soapy like that, as smooth as butter and yet hard in various places. I bet I could make him close his eyes and put his head back, and then I could just do whatever I wanted to. Lick the tip of his cock, rub my clit against all the angular places on his body, soap him by sliding my body the length of his. I can imagine well what that soap barrier would feel like— my T-shirt is tickling against my nipples even now, and the rough seam of my jeans is stirring my clit into something so good it’s like pain. Soap would feel amazing. He looks as though it feels amazing. He strokes his chest lightly, almost innocently, only brushing those tight little nipples when it looks the least incriminating. Again, I expect him to say something like: do you like what you see? That’s what his expression says. Too bad for me that it’s starting to also make me want to say something back. Something like: I do. * * * I think we’re living in the nineteenth century. That’s what this is: nineteenth century lust. I drop a glove. He sniffs it. We exchange meaningful glances over afternoon tea. I get a flash of his ankle. Only, you know, more than an ankle. He seems to have absolutely no problem being as nude as a person can be without forcing you to call the police. He’s almost naked now, sprawled on the couch, eating cheese puffs by the handful. I bet his mouth tastes all cheesy and tangy. I bet his fingers do, too, and I’d find out for sure if he just leaned across to my chair and stuck one in my mouth. And then I could lick it, and lick it, and lick up his wrist and over his forearm and biceps to those big square shoulders. And then it really wouldn’t be that far to his mouth. “Cheese puff?” he asks, but I’m beyond cheese puffs. I’m in his mouth. We’ve had sex and we’re smoking the cigarettes. I’m imagining the bed linen we buy for our apartment when he actually gets around to saying something that might be construed as sexual. Can I construe all of this? Can I construe him until his eyes rolls back in his head? “Why don’t you come for a cuddle, Cal?” he asks, which I suppose isn’t sexual at all. I mean, underneath it might be. I could analyse it in class: deconstruct the word cuddle in this context for homework, everyone. But I doubt it really needs a context. Or deconstruction. Cuddles mean arms and hands and flesh pressed together, and he’s not even wearing a shirt. There isn’t even a soap barrier. I lie down obediently, in his ginormous arms. The context is this: I need words and he knows I need words and if there aren’t any, then what does lying down in someone’s arms mean? It means that I fall asleep before Jeanie and Derek get back, all my tension and contexts and deconstructions bored to death by the evening news. * * * I wake warm and confused. At first I think he’s no longer there because the back of me is cold, where before it was warm. I think that’s what I fell asleep thinking of, how nice it is to be warmed by someone. It was nice of him, really, to ask me to cuddle with him. As though we’re best friends forever. As though he’s sexless and all of this is just my fevered brain working overtime on problems it is unable to solve. I suppose this theory would be more convincing if he weren’t jerking off against the backs of my legs. I know he is. It’s not as though he’s making it unclear. The couch is trembling. I can feel his shaky breath fluttering over the back of my neck. He’s moved his body away from mine, but his fist or his hand or the tip of his cock or whatever keeps bumping against my bare legs. Before my mind goes blank, it wanders to whether or not this is what nineteenth century lust was really like. Men tugging their cocks into a lady’s skirts, surreptitiously. Her trying to fend him off just as he clutches at her and spurts amongst all those secret folds. My mind is definitely blank, now, because the non-thought excites me. I could wake up and be outraged and confused. I could turn over and fuck him. But instead I want to lay here trembling with excitement, desperately wanting to stroke myself too but unwilling to stop whatever this is. I’m sure I feel a lick of something wet against my skin, and that’s as much as if I had turned around and taken hold of him. His breathing grows heavier and it’s as good as a groan— all these little up and down noises that could almost be nothing. He could just lift my skirt while I’m not really asleep, pull my knickers aside. Urge that big stiff thing into where I’m wettest. He could fuck me, and I could just lie here, pretending. Pretending that I’m asleep and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t know anything anyway. I arch my body as though I’m just stirring, when really I’m imagining his cock pushing into my slippery cunt and the whole of me responding by stretching like a cat. My pussy clenches around nothing, just as he freezes in position. But I don’t want him to stop, so I don’t move anything else and I don’t turn around. Despite the fact that I want to see what he’s doing. I want to know exactly what it looks like—has he got those sweat pants around his thighs, all pushed rudely down with everything out and pointed at me? Or did I just imagine the slippery tip of his cock against my skin? Maybe he’s just got his hand inside, jerking at himself within the hot confines of pants so thin and worn I’d probably be able to see everything anyway. It’s not as though he’s small. His hand alone would make a heavy pattern beneath the material— the rails of his knuckles, those long fingers that would feel so good spreading me open. It’s weird that such thoughts send waves of heat through me. It’s weird that they swell and spread my pussy open without him having to touch me at all. But they do. When I hear him unable to suppress a groan and feel hot cum stripe the backs of my thighs, I get so worked up I almost go over with him. My clit aches and pulses in sympathy. My hips circle, minutely. It’s agonising. The shaking of the couch stops but what he’s doing doesn’t. I can still feel him rubbing himself, still hear his muted groans dialling down into nothing, and all the way through I keep on pretending that I’m sleeping. Even when he oh-so-thoughtfully cleans me up, I still pretend I’m sleeping. Well, class? Who got wants to mark his territory as the subtext of cuddle? * * * I can’t stop touching the back of my legs, where he marked me. I touch them as though I expect to find his slippery liquid there, running down to my shins. Little flutters of heat run through me when I do, but I haven’t yet given in to any of them. I wanted to touch myself after he’d carried me up to bed and left me there alone, but instead I jolted in and out of sleep and dreams about men sneaking up behind me, to put a blindfold over my eyes. When I see him next, I blush. We meet on the stairs—him going up and me coming down—and he smiles at me, lazily. There’s something of a blush on his cheeks, too, and I wonder if he really knew. I suppose it’s not as much fun if you don’t secretly know. Which I think is a theory worthy of dissection. Class: discuss. Of course they’d ask me for more evidence, but fortunately I find I can supply it. He gives me ample material in the kitchen over dinner, when we’re all talking about favourite recipes. Everyone else tells boring tales of their crappy brownies and their rubbish cake, but he fixes me with his chocolate stare and says:“My favourite thing to make is honey cream pie.” Who could fail to fall for that? Apart from Jeanie and Derek, of course. It seems it’s just me who understands that honey cream pie is really a euphemism for a pussy slick with the stuff he striped the backs of my thighs with. Oh God, what if he had pulled my knickers down and— “Okay so first, I stir the cream.” Jeanie tells him that stirring the cream sounds yummy. Derek murmurs his approval. I’m trapped in hot dirty euphemism land. Not even my class and their dissections could help me now. “I stir it with my fingers, because that makes it lovely and...warm.” I pretend that I’m not lovely and warm right now. I glance out of the window. I fold my arms over my chest. But then if I carry on like this, maybe he won’t continue. Last night was about pretending. Maybe today is about being really really interested until the actual proper words just explode right out of him. Yes! Of course that’s it! I lean forward and laser my gaze right back at him. “Go on,” I say, but he doesn’t smile. I think smiling would cut into the smoulder he seems to have going on. Eyelids lowered, voice deep and drawling, almost touching a parody of seduction but not quite. “I pour in the honey.” “That sounds soooo good,” I say. I can drawl too. I can play this game, even though I’ve got no idea what game it is. “And then what happens?” “Then, you work the honey around and around until everything is sticky and slippery.” “I see. I bet it gets everywhere.” “It does.” “I bet it’s a real mess.” “All over my hands. Right up to my elbows. And it’s so delicious that I just have suck and lick it all up and my mouth gets so...” “Dirty.” “Exactly. Dirty...dirty and shiny. But I keep going, because then comes the best part.” “Do you...pound the...pastry?” “I get out my big rolling pin, and pound it. But don’t get me wrong— I’m gentle, too.” “Oh yes, gentle...” “I work all of the soft but firm mixture slow, real slow, nice and easy. I work at it until it gives under my hands and my...rolling pin.” “How does it feel when it...gives?” “Oh so good. So good to work at something until I ache.” I’m no longer noticing Jeanie and Derek’s little twitters of approval. They must be as insensible as blocks not to notice what he’s actually talking about. Nobody aches over pie. I’m aching, however. I’m rubbing my spiky nipples through my jersey while everyone’s busy not paying attention, and I’m practically fucking the chair. I should really have masturbated last night. Now everything’s rolled over into today and I’m standing right on the edge. One more bristle of the hairs on the back of my neck, one more sizzle of heat over every inch of my skin...I’m going to have to go over. I think I’ll start by removing all of my clothes before I boil to death inside them. I think he knows that this is the case. He keeps on talking and talking about how he’s going to slip his big pie into the over-heated oven, how when he slides his knife into its creamy depths, all the honey just...oozes. I’m not even sure that I like the word ooze in an erotic context, but he makes it work. I can practically feel his tongue against my skin, licking my cream and honey. Easing and slipping and working and all of those words that on the face of it don’t seem that naughty. But they are right now. They are when they’re secretly. Oh Lord kiss me, I think. But he doesn’t. He just finishes describing pie-making and takes his dishes to the sink. * * * Things get worse. Or better, depending on your view. Everyone decides to go swimming and I know it’s going to be a disaster before we’ve even taken off our clothes, but I could not have predicted how much of a disaster. Because of course the sun is shining, and we need lotion. Everyone needs lotion. Let’s all get greased up with lotion, everybody! Why in God’s name didn’t I masturbate last night? I could have done it fifty times—no-one would have known! I’m very quiet and I don’t use a lot of bells and whistles. Just my finger on my clit oh Lord I want to touch my clit. I even start rubbing my bikini bottoms against my plump lips as I pull them up, nice and tight. Tighter. When Ted bursts into my room—probably accidentally on purpose—he almost catches me doing myself with the material of my bikini bottoms. Though I’m sure that was his aim—or if not that, then at least to see me naked. I try to look shocked, but Blank Mind won’t let me. Him in his teeny-tiny trunks won’t let me. He looks ridiculous and fantastic all at the same time. God I want that cock inside me. I want to ride him right now, right here, but instead I just follow him and the others down to the lake, all the while wondering what terrible mass of frustration awaits me this time.This time it’s lotion. He cuts a sideways glance at me as we lay sprawled on blankets before the silver disc of the lake, and then says just as innocent as you please, “We should oil ourselves up with suntan lotion.”“Oh, yes!” Jeanie cries. “Good idea!” Derek cries. Please someone, let me die. Of course no-one is that kind. Instead I have to watch as he greases his hands, before slowly reaching them towards me like the haunting claws in some Hammer horror. When he finally gets to me, it almost feels like I’m being stung. It’s that intense. Of course, Jeanie and Derek don’t notice my stung reaction, but Ted does. He spreads the sting all over me, stroking and rubbing first over my shoulders, and then down my back. And then my thighs. Though none of this really describes what he’s doing. Like—he gets right to the top of my thigh, and then doesn’t stop. Instead, he tugs them gently apart and gets his slippery hands right into the tender groove that separates my nethers from places that are allowed. My clit pulses and swells. Something trickles between the cheeks of my ass. I’m practically arching on the blanket, almost desperate enough to stroke myself with Jeanie and Derek right there. I go beyond almost when he blatantly starts groping my tits. At one point, his hand even slides inside the cup and teases my stiff nipple. I whimper. Does there still need to be words? “Now you do me,” he says, and I really think I don’t need them anymore. Let’s just go back to my bedroom and fuck until we pass out. But no, no. I have to do this, instead. I try to tease him as he did me, but it’s so hard to walk that line— the one between teasing and giving in. I’m not as good at it as he is, and I keep actually skimming my hands over the ever-growing bulge in his trunks. I make him close his eyes and squirm on the blanket—which pleases me, I won’t deny. But it’s hardly keeping things secret and subtext. Unfortunately, it’s just as I’m realising that I could probably push things right out of that realm all by myself, this minute, that he decides to leap up and run, laughing, towards the lake. Because this is all just one great big joke, probably. It’s all just a joke. Laugh, Cal. Laugh. * * * But he doesn’t laugh again. He spells out rude words when we play Scrabble and suggests that we all watch sexy movies together and sometimes when we are in the pantry together, I feel him come up right behind me and rub something hard into the groove between my butt cheeks. But he doesn’t laugh while doing any of those things. He doesn’t elaborate, either, but I guess he doesn’t need to. Not when we’re having sex through the wall between our rooms. He gasps and then I have to gasp back, even though I’m not actually touching myself. And then he moans, and I moan back, until we’re both groaning and humping wallpaper, using whatever we can to simulate the other person. I’m no more sure why we have to simulate anything than why this all began, however. It’s probably why I get up before I’ve even put my hand inside my shorts, and cross the hall to his room. Tell me if this is the right thing to do, class. Is my dissection of the situation solid? What is the meaning behind his laughter, the Scrabble, the sex we almost just had whilst separated by a wall? They’d stare at me, blankly. Oh, what do they know? Nothing, that’s what. When I open his bedroom door and slip inside, he’s just laid on his bed. Not touching himself, not worked up, not anything. He has one hand beneath his head and looks as casual as a handshake. Someone raises their hand in the back and says: he knew you would come in here, all along. I go to tell him that very thing, but he puts a finger to his lips. “Shhh,” he says, and then he cocks his head as though considering. Before finally going with: “They’ll hear us.” I want to ask him who, but of course I know exactly what he means. He means Jeanie and Derek, who he must have heard fucking about seventy thousand times by now. They do it all the time— they did it in the lake while we were busy greasing each other up and trying to unravel each other’s meanings. But he wants us to be quiet? He wants us to be quiet. And secret. Forbidden, I think, and my class all nod their heads. I press the heel of my palm to my swollen pussy, to stop myself dying of arousal. Shortly before I fall on him like a starving cannibal woman, desperate to cram her mouth full of his flesh. I can feel that I’ve soaked through the material of my shorts and the pulse in my clit is like a drumbeat, but all of this pushes up higher when he immediately puts a hand over my mouth. Every shushing sound he makes seems to provoke me, until I’ve somehow got my legs around his thigh and am rutting against whatever I can find, easing the ache in my clit with the delicious pressure of another person. If I was allowed to speak, I’d tell him to lay on me, heavily. Right now—swamp me with himself. Instead I squirm and work myself to the point of orgasm, already gagging for another before I’ve even got to the first. He moans and runs his heavy-lidded eyes all over me, and bizarrely I find myself doing the same thing to him as he did to me: I cover his mouth with my hand. Now we’re linked that way, shutting each other’s noises and words down while we buck and hump like animals. He pumps his cock against my stomach through the sheets, the feel of it enough to make my clit twitch and send pleasure messages to every part of me. And then I come, just like that. I come in great wrenching heaves, creaming against his thigh, biting and licking at his fingers to keep myself silent. He doesn’t quite so successfully manage silence. He grunts thickly against my hand and I tear the sheets away so that I can see— he’s as swollen and tense as I still feel, and when the cool air hits his cock shortly followed by the clasp of my free hand, he spurts. It’s as I imagined it was, when he jerked himself against the backs of my thighs. Thick gleaming strands that reach too far, making a mess of both him and me. He gets free of my hand and cries out, louder than I had thought I wanted to. Jeanie and Derek will have definitely heard that. But I kind of think things are beyond secrets and the forbidden, now. It’s all just too exciting anyway—that lovely first uncovering of someone else’s desire, that seems to have been going on forever for us. We’ve uncovered and uncovered and guessed and danced, and now it’s the pay off. I pull my hand away from his mouth, so that I can kiss him until my jaw aches. I lay over him and slip and slide through all the liquid that coats him. I can’t stop touching him all over. We end up twisted around, my mouth on his cock and his on my pussy, and then we lick and suck each other to new fullness, new arousal, exploring every little crease and stretch of skin. I tell him, loudly, that his cock feels so good in my mouth, that he tastes like salted honey and is too big for me to take. He tells me, loudly, that my pussy is drowning in cream, while his fingers fuck into me roughly. “Do me,” I say. “Do me.” “You want me to fuck you?” “Oh yes. Look at how wet I am. Go on, just slide into my wet pussy.” “Louder,” he says, and I obey. “I’m so wet for you, baby. I need your cock in me. Come on and give it to me.” And then I close my mouth around his swollen prick, while he returns the favour over my clit. “Ah yes, suck me off. Suck me, baby, yes!” he cries. I shouldn’t have needed words to get to this place, but they sure are nice to hear now. They’re probably nice for Jeanie and Derek to hear, too— they didn’t go into such lurid detail. They just moaned and grunted, while we revel in all these new things we get to say. “I want you,” I tell him. “I want you.” And that takes me apart. Him saying that he wants me too puts me back together again. Before we suck and lick each other into something deeper, harder, faster, more. He fucks me on my hands and knees, then fucks me with my face and body pressed more firmly into the mattress. He fucks me until I want to merge with the mattress, always so thick and swollen in my equally tender pussy. Every thrust feels like he’s slapping me with sensation so intense I can’t get it down, made worse by his hands, his endless instructions and orders and the details of his pleasure. He gives me essays on my pussy, on the way my slickness feels, and answers questions I’ve always wanted to know about, like what is it like to ride someone in reverse? He makes me sit on his cock with my back to him, hands forward on his thighs and his cock touching some new places, just because he wants to look at my ass as we fuck. He wants to look at everything on me, while we fuck. I didn’t think a man could fuck so much in one night, but he proves me wrong. By morning, we’re both exhausted. I can hardly move, and every muscle in my body makes itself known. He tells me that I’m trembling, but I’m too wiped to let him know that isn’t because he’s rocked my world. It isn’t because I’m buzzing with raw feeling, still running the slide show of the night before in my head. It’s because I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted, right? And I don’t mind if he wants to read something into me, that I’m pretending isn’t there.
Peer to Peer ReviewsEvery month we give some of the recent releases out to the TEB authors and ask them to do a review of their fellow authors' books. The idea is for you to see what each of our authors thinks of the work of their peers. Here are a few for you to get stuck into.
Buy Book | by Brenda Williamson reviewed by Jenika Snow With a hurt past, Kinsey has no other option but to face her past once more. When she sees Ty for the first time after so long, her feelings for him come back full force. What she doesn’t know is that Ty has a dark secret that could very well send them both to hell…Literally. I have to say, I was immediately drawn to this story from the very first paragraph. Ms. Williamson has a way with her writing that draws the reader in. The sensuality of the story is projected through the pages, letting the reader experiencing what is happening head-on. I instantly feel in love with Ty with his devilish good looks, and raw aggressive personality, along with how he dealt with everything in the end. To be honest, I meant to read this story over the weekend, but once I started it, I couldn’t put it down. It was a compelling love story, one that drew me in immediately. I would most definitely recommend this story to anyone! If your look for a story that combines, romance, danger, and incredible sex, then this story is for you! I will definitely be reading more stories by Brenda Williamson!! | 
Buy Book | by Saskia Walker reviewed by Tonya Ramagos Adrian has agreed to provide critical evidence in a case that will take down a man guilty of everything from fraud to drug trafficking. He never meant to drag Lily into the danger, but his suggestion that they meet at his office puts her in the sights of a hit man intent on taking Adrian out before he can testify. Seth Jones is intent to do his duty and protect his prime witness no matter the cost. Bringing Lily into the witness protection program right along with Adrian is as much for her safety as Adrian's seeing as the hitman knows she can identify him too. But holed up in the gorgeous Wales country side, Seth finds himself unable to resist his attraction to Lily any more than he can fight his need to keep her safe. This was the first book I've read by Ms. Walker, but I can promise it won't be my last. I couldn't have titled this story better. Inescapable is exactly that from the very first page! Adrian is the sexiest accountant I've every come across and the deep connection he and Lily develop in their on-line affair continues to sizzle when they come face to face. As for Seth, the best word I can use to describe him is YUM. Seth is a man devoted to his job and never looses sight of his duty even as he allows himself the opportunity to explore the instant attraction he feels for Lily. I enjoyed Lily's spunk and envied her the chance she got to live out her fantasies with these two strong, passionate and tender men. Inescapable is a book you don't want to miss! | 
Buy Book | by Marie Harte, Jenna Byrnes and Jude Mason, Aurora Rose Lynn, Victoria Blisse, Jambrea Jo Jones and Sascha Illyvich reviewed by Saskia Walker OVER THE MOON offers six passionate tales of werewolves—six tales that offer the reader such diverse and fascinating takes on the werewolf legend that you will instantly want to read the anthology over again! Enemy Red by Marie Harte is a story of rivalry and forbidden desire, of old enemies clashing in a richly drawn fairytale land. Rudra, female alpha of the red wolf clan and Fenris, a silver wolf, are enemies, but the passion between them is undeniable. When they answer the call, it burns up the pages! Marie Harte’s story is both erotic, and redolent with old world allure. It’s also magical, inviting us to be part of a unique and enchanting mystical forest heritage. The wolf legend here is played out in a unique tale of love that conquers all. Trapped by Jude Mason and Jenna Byrnes is a wonderful contemporary set story that focuses on a committed couple. Gareth and Sienna share a deeply loving and passionate relationship. Each full moon, they turn were—in every other way, they are a normal loving couple. Their connection is vivid and vital, their love for one another powerful. When Sienna is captured by poachers, this moving story ups the stakes and takes the reader on a desperate hunt for the men who represent the destruction of their treasured world. Passionate, touching, and deeply engaging, this committed couple story grabs your heartstrings as well as setting your libido on fire. Stripped Bare by Aurora Rose Lynn is a tale full of twists and turns, a tale set in compelling fantasy future world. The Lord of Istanis is brooding. Every third year he turns into a lupus, a state that repels him. With that moon looming, and enemies in his own court, the last thing he needs is a spy in his midst, no matter how sexy she is—or is it? The scorching heat between these two runs parallel with the danger looming close at hand. Aurora Rose Lynn leads us to a totally unexpected, magical twist in her unique take on the were legend. Moon Shy by Victoria Blisse is a contemporary set story where office politics, romance, and the legend of the werewolf come together in a story that will grab you and make you wish it was a full-length novel! Jenny, our heroine, is not a werewolf, but Lowell, the man she is falling for, is. The office hatchet woman, Desdemona, also has her eye on Lowell, and she is a wolf too. While Jenny and Lowell fall in love, the situation they are in is fraught with danger. Victoria Blisse's tale is filled with pathos, humour, romance, action, and eroticism. It also addresses the werewolf nature head-on, and shows us in no uncertain terms what it means to fall head over heels in love with one. Dreams by Jambrea Jo Jones. When werewolf David Sanders is sent to hunt down Anabella Pouge, he doesn’t realise the effect this woman will have on him! The sexual chemistry between these two is off the scale, their desperation to be together so tangible it makes you ache. But Bella is a psychic, and danger stalks the pack she has become part of. As the story evolves we discover that Bella not only holds the key, she represents a telling secret. Jambrea Jo Jones portrays the legendary werewolf tenets superbly here, making this a powerful read. Bound to Her by Sascha Illyvich is sassy, fast moving, and rife with kink—a story of weres with attitude! Michele denies her werewolf aspect, having been hurt by it. Luka is powerful, the werewolf to show her the way—the were who seeks union between the packs. Conflict abounds, making their physical relationship fiery and filled with raw energy. When Luka bonds with her and leads her to embrace her deeply buried nature, she cannot resist. Although Michele denied her lupine state and the pack politics, ultimately she cannot escape it, and Luka is by her side when she is forced to face it all. Hot and sassy, this is an edgy read with heaps of attitude! | 
Buy Book | by Marie Harte reviewed by Aurora Rose Lynn The Thief of Mardu immediately draws the reader into a futuristic world of pleasure and murder. Isa Araye makes herself out to be innocent but Catam of Mardu, a bounty hunter turned peacemaker, has other ideas when he finds her. He is protective toward her when he should be judgemental, while she controls him against his will. Together, they begin to unravel the mystery behind Statesman Klin’s murder. The sex scenes are hot and arousing. Marie Harte cleverly captures the world and her main characters are compelling and well drawn. Isa and Catam come from opposite sides of the law but that doesn’t prevent either one of them from finding a spark of a romantic emotion and from becoming more involved with the other than they initially wanted. Romance can pop up between differing characters in the least likely of places... | The Naked Chef - Aurora Rose LynnOnce upon a time, I saw my husband in a small apron. It simply appeared as if he wasn’t wearing anything underneath at all. Can an overactive imagination roam and a woman’s heart begin thumping when he bends over? I will leave it up to you, the reader, to guess whether he did wear anything under the tiny scrap of apron, and that’s how this monthly column came about. I have kept the recipes simple and easy to prepare, with ingredients that are easy to find, and most likely, you already have in your kitchen. Of late, my philosophy has been to keep life simple, which includes cooking and baking. It makes for far fewer headaches, and for a tantalizing taste experience. I hope you enjoy these that I’ve tested in my own kitchen. From my kitchen to yours, Aurora Rose Lynn 
Corn Chowder Soup RecipeOn a cold, dreary winter day, why not cook up a recipe that will not only warm up your insides, and make your day special? It’s an easy Corn Chowder Soup and can be adjusted to suit your taste. Ingredients:
SERVES 5-6
• 1/4 pound bacon, diced
• 2 Tbsp butter
• 1 large yellow onions, diced
• 1 tsp thyme, ground
• ½ red pepper, diced
• 1/2 tsp cumin, ground
• 1/8 tsp turmeric, optional for colour
• 1 pounds white potatoes, washed, skins on and cubed
• 3 cups chicken stock, homemade, chicken base with water, or 4-6 bouillon cubes with water to taste
• 3 Tbsp cornstarch
• 3 Tbsp cold water
• 1 cups heavy cream or half and half
• 42cups corn kernels, fresh, frozen or canned and drained
• 1/4 tsp fresh black pepper, ground
Cooking Instructions:
1. In large stockpot, fry bacon until cooked and crispy. Drain fat, reserving 2 Tbsp, and place bacon on paper towel to cool. Set aside.
2. Add butter to the reserved fat and cook onions, and peppers until tender.
3. Add the spices, potatoes and chicken stock. Cook on low until potatoes are almost cooked through.
4. In small glass, dissolve cornstarch in cold water.
5. Add mixture to hot soup a little at a time stirring constantly. This will thicken up very quickly. Keep stirring.
6. On low heat, add cream (or half and half or milk) to the chowder and stir. Simmer for 10-15 minutes until hot. Do not bring to a boil.
7. Add corn and black pepper, stir and remove from heat.
8. Serve in a bread bowl and you have an excellent meal in a bowl!Low-fat Version:
Use skim milk instead of cream.
Use turkey bacon instead of pork bacon.
Use canola oil instead of butter.
January Tip: I’ve found the winter blahs aren’t quite so bad if I learn or do something different during the long winter evenings. For example, take a class at your community college in a subject you’re interested in, or take a fitness or yoga class. Two years ago, I learned to crochet and now I crochet blankets and baby items. This year, I’m planning to have a read-a-thon, where I pick books by new authors, and try out something different. I never know what I’ll find...
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Every month we put our authors in the spotlight so that you can find out a little bit more about them. Don't miss it on the spotlight page at the TEB website. Author of the week - Saskia Walker and Nadia Aidan are our authors in January. We are offering a 20% discount on selected titles. To get your copies click HERE Come along and chat to your favourite authors, and keep up on all the latest TEB news and information at our forum and catch up with the latest authors' news at the blog: 
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Fill up on the delightful short stories that TEB's authors have written for you.
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