Thursday, March 29, 2012

New Release: Always and Forever

It's release day peoples!!! Check out Always and Forever published through Cobblestone Press. It's part of their Blue Line and it's only .99cents! What a bargain!

Blurb: Drawing the shortest straw, Fin sets out to prove his theory; polyamory is genetic. He has the genetic anomaly already, so why was he so nervous? He has everything working for him to make his dreams come true.

Monty, Drake and Gabe think they could be the men Fin needs to complete the task. Of course convincing him of that could be a little hard.

All they have to do is show their little science nerd what he's been missing. 

Excerpt: What the fuck am I doing here? Fin made his way into the club, barely fitting between the two muscle-bound bouncers. Oh yeah, that’s right; I’m taking one for the team. Biting the bullet. And every other term and cliché he could think of.

He drew the short stick.

The rules of the experiment were clear. Go inside Naughty Nights, find some of the biggest men, since that was what Fin desired most, and get laid. It was all in the name of science. Or, well, that’s what he told himself.

Fin had just received his first grant in genetic research. With the help of three of his best friends, Fin wanted to prove polyamory existed. That it was ingrained in the genetics of some people.

So why am I at this club, again?

Of all of their friends, he was the one mostly likely to fit the criteria. It was a long shot. He admitted as much. The idea that some people had the proclivity of needing more than one partner to fulfill them was a daunting concept.

So here he was.

Standing in a club.

Lost and nervous.

“Hey, sweet thang. You looking to party?” a woman asked, trailing her finger across his shoulders as she circled around him.

Fin cleared his throat and swallowed roughly. The woman was repulsive. He was sure she was old enough to be someone’s grandmother. Between her smoke-addled voice and her gaudy make-up, it’d take more than one pair of beer goggles to fuck her.

“Sorry ma’am. Not my type,” he said, trying to be as polite as possible.

“Not your type? Sugar,” she leaned in. The smell of stale cigarettes and alcohol made his stomach lurch. “I’m everyone’s type. Why don’t you buy me a drink, and we’ll talk some.”

“I don’t think so. Thanks anyway.” Fin tried to move away from the wretched woman.

“Wait, Sugar.” She grabbed his hand.

“I said…”

“Mabel.” A deep, seductive voice filled the too-small space between the woman and Fin. “What are you doing in here? I thought we told you never to come back.” The owner of the voice, tall, dark, and yummy, unhooked her hand from Fin’s. Two men, just as big and just as delicious, stood on either side of his rescuer.

Fin sucked in a breath.

His dick hardened.

Biting his lip, Fin held back the groan threatening to spill out. They had to be the hottest guys he’d ever seen.

Stepping back from everyone, he watched as two of the men walked the persistent woman out of the club. The man who had spoken stepped toward him, holding out his hand. “Sorry about that. Mabel is a few cans short of a six-pack. Can I buy you a drink?”

Fin took his hand. His grip was strong, confident. “Thanks. I’d, um, I’d like that,” he said, licking his parched lips.

“Great.” His new friend smiled. “My name is Monty. The other two guys are Drake and Gabe.”

“My name is Fin.” He was nervous. His palms were sweating now. His heart pounded. “So, uh, she do that often?”

Monty laughed. The sound was deep and rumbled in Fin’s chest. His dick jumped against the front of his pants.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Here it is:

So, tell me what you think!

Always and Forever out March 29, 2012

Tuesday, March 20, 2012


I did it peeps. I tried my hand at writing m/m, but I went big. *coughs*

See I have this problem. When I'm not sure what to do, I go big. I did it with the very first contract I got. A Dangerous Game was a menage, f/m/f. To be honest, I didn't have a clue what I was doing. I just knew what I saw in my head and wrote it. Along the way, I have learned new things and have honed and trained myself to take everything a step at a time.

I threw my training out the window with Always and Forever, my m/m/m/m short. Yes peeps you are reading that right. I went big. I ran with the big dogs. Why? Because it was fun.

It's not all just a naughty romp in the hay, although...*weg* it is pretty naughty, I have a story in there. My men actually love each other. They have a relationship. Yes, all four of them.

I can hear some of you saying, but Ashley, why four? My answer for you would be, why not? Why do we need to conform to some social standard that says a relationship consists of two people, not multiple? I think as long as everyone is of accord, then it is their decision. What they do in their bedroom is their business, not their business and ours. You like your privacy, so respect theirs.

True, this is a just a story, but it goes deeper than that. We as a society have become so bashful when it comes to sex and relationships. It seems that we are so fixated on what everyone else is doing instead of what we're doing. Let's get something straight peeps. We don't have the right to tell someone how to believe or how to act. We don't have the right to tell someone what they feel for another person, whether gay, straight, bi-sexual, transgender, or pan-sexual. We are who we are. Nothing more, nothing less.

Why can't we be happy for anyone who finds love? Why is love so wrong? Better yet, why is being happy so wrong?

I don't know peeps, maybe I'm opening a can of worms here with what I am saying. Who cares though, right? I mean if we don't stand up for ourselves, who will?

So yeah, I wrote a story about these guys who love each other. They're in this relationship with each other and you know what, I'd do it again. Because at the end of the day, love is all that matters. Not sexual preference, not gender, or race. It's people coming together, bonding and forming relationships. That's what makes the world go round.

Am I too idealistic? Am I too hopeful? Maybe. But, I can always dream, right peeps?

Until next time.


Monday, March 19, 2012

Guess Who's Back?

Yep, it's me.

I haven't done this in a while. I've been way too busy to sit down and actually blog.

But, I am back and I promise to blog more. Tonight is just a quickie blog post. My best friend in the whole world has stepped up to the task of writing along side me. He's a great guy. His imagination astounds me. I have read his stuff. I keep asking him for more and he graciously obliges me every chance he gets. So when you have a moment stop on by Storme Haven and say hi.

Tell him Ashley sent you.

Later peeps!!


Saturday, May 14, 2011

New Release

That's right peeps I have a new release out; Once Bitten!

Check it out!

**Contains graphic sexual content and graphic language.**
**Rated X**

Chapter One

From the hilltops of Ailín, Flora watched the mist churn. Her fountain of knowledge was angry and desperate for her to pay attention. The swirl of mist became violent, lashing out with its wispy visions pulling her in. “Okay, okay,” she said, exasperated. “You're like dealing with a petulant child.” She crossed over to the small court yard and sat on the lip of the fountain. Small fingers of mist caressed her skin, wrapping her in its warmth as if to say it was sorry. Flora chuckled softly settling in. “All is forgiven, now, what has you so upset?”

The mist grew and pulsed with power as it engulfed her. Each time the universal balance was out of whack, the mist grew agitated. A tree could fall in the middle of the forest and it would wake her. It was like dealing with a tattle-tail. Flora felt herself begin to float and then the mist cleared. She was standing in the middle of club. The hollers of man screaming out in pain filled her senses.

Racing through the dank club, she stopped short. A man stood shackled to a cross, his body damp with perspiration. Knowing she couldn‟t be seen, she stepped into the room. His back was covered in lash marks. Some swelled while blood flowed freely from others. Miraculously, they began to heal. Vampire, she thought. What have you done to deserve this? She looked around the room, trying to find the person responsible for torturing this man.

“Slave, what level are you at?” The lisp of a female‟s voice made Flora jump. There was no way a woman could inflict this pain.

“Green, Mistress.” The man she called slave responded.

From the shadows, the woman stepped forward. Her face was distorted as large red eyes dominated the other features of her face. When the woman smiled Flora shuddered. Her fangs were curled from the effects of bloodlust, and saliva flowed freely from her mouth. “Good, slave, now you will please me.” A rumble of pleasure filled the female‟s chest as she licked the drying blood from his back.

“Yes, Mistress.” He groaned, writhing against the bonds.

Flora was confused. What am I missing, mist? I see her bloodlust but if he is not willing to walk away, what can I do to help?

The mist picked her up again and deposited her in another part of the club. “You know it is against human law to bite people, Kira, yet you do it. I am going to Luka with this information.”

Hurrying down the hall, Flora watched as a balding man started for the door. The woman he called Kira was the same woman she‟d just seen in bloodlust. Before she could tell the man to watch out, Kira was on him. In an instant, he was dead. Her red eyes gleamed with excitement as her hand was buried in the man‟s chest cavity. Pulling back, his still beating heart sprayed blood across her face and chest. Like an eager babe for milk, she began flicking her tongue across her lips and the sides of her mouth.

Closing her eyes, Flora's stomach pitched and rolled with total disgust. When she finally opened them after listening to the sound of sucking and gummy munching of rending flesh, she caught Kira pulling the incisors from his mouth. It was the most disrespectful act one vampire could do to another.

Running from the room, she needed to get out of there. Dread threaded its way through her body, squeezing the life from her. She couldn‟t breathe. I have to get out of here! Her mind screamed as she tripped and fell. The mist this time was correct in bringing her here, but why wasn‟t it bringing her home?

Unseen hands helped her up. “Are you okay, Miss?”

She knew that voice. It was the vampire who‟d been chained up, “Yes, thank you. I‟ll be fine.” She took her hand from his and straightened her dress.

His hand came up to cup her chin. She told herself to move back, that he shouldn‟t be able to do this. She should be invisible to all around her, but she couldn‟t move. His hand touched her cheek, and electricity skittered across skin. She glanced around, looking for the translucent grey smoke of the mist but found none.

“What are you afraid of?” His question had her jerking away from him.

“You shouldn‟t see me,” she whispered.

“Would you please look at me?” His voice held a note of desperation.

Flora complied. Her gaze met his. A gasp of horror passed her lips.

His soul was tortured. The ghosts of his past plagued him as if it had just happened. Her heart broke at the things he'd endured. Kira was his Maker, and in being so, she forced him to do things no person should have too. His lips pulled back in a knowing smirk, revealing his fangs. She should have been afraid of the man standing before her, but she felt compassion and love. Come on Flora, you can’t love this beast. You’re food to him.
She took a step back. The mist was back. Its tendrils wrapped around the Celtic hawk medallion he wore. It was a silent plea only she would understand.

The pendent came from Kira, it was how she controlled him. I understand now. I know what I must do. The air was sucked from her lungs as she was pulled back through the veil to sit on the fountain lip.

Walking back into her chambers, she pulled out her jewelry box and found a hawk that would match the one she saw. She then walked down the hall to her sisters‟ chambers and opened the door. “Sisters, we have work to do.”

* * * * *
Two days later, Flora materialized inside the club. Familiar screams of agony greeted her, and her heart broke. She knew the man the screams came from—Luka. Sticking to the shadows, she moved toward the noise. She was counting on Kira to leave him bound on the cross like last time.

“Why don‟t you hang out for a while.” Kira chuckled, walking out of the room. “I‟ll be back soon. I‟m famished.” Flora watched as Kira dematerialized

Now was her chance. She had to hurry. Walking into the room, she winced when she saw the familiar welts and slash marks. She shivered mentally and touched his shoulder. “I‟m here to help, Luka,” she whispered afraid someone would hear her.

“Why would you think I need help?” He hissed never looking up at her.

“Who wouldn‟t need help while being attached to this contraption?” She kneeled in front of him, lifting his chin. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

He snatched his chin out of her hand. “I know no other life. What was once can never be again.” The bitterness and disgust in his voice broke her heart.

“You can have it again, Luka. You just have to believe in yourself.” She sighed. Slipping the necklace from his neck she switched out the pendants. “You should know peace in your life. Let this pendant show you the way to peace.” Under her breath she mumbled, “and expose that horrid bitch, Kira, for what she is.”

“What is she?” His voice was velvety soft.

“A horribly mean, spiteful person.” Flora placed the necklace back around his neck. “Luka, I need you to look at me.” She had to wipe his memory of her ever being there.

His face turned toward hers. His hair was plastered to his forehead. His eyes were hollow, lifeless. His skin was pasty and ash colored. All she wanted to do was bring him home with her, but he wasn‟t a lost puppy. He was a vampire. Taking a deep breath she leaned into him, and whispered in his ear. The incantation was an old one. It would wipe his memory of her ever being there. Within seconds his body was completely limp, his eyes closed as if he slept.

Kissing his cheek, Flora dematerialized to her chambers and wept. In an instant she made a promise to watch over him. To keep him on the right path. Soon the pendant would begin to work, and soon he would need her more than he ever thought he could.

Chapter Two

There were reasons why the tiny shack was out in the middle of nowhere. One, vampires weren’t allowed to gather in groups, especially in the middle of Atlanta. Two, it wasn’t your normal dance club; it was a BDSM playground.

Luka walked through the door and smelled the stench of sex and stale alcohol. The sounds of woman and men screaming in release had his cock pressing against the front of his leathers. This was his life. This was where he belonged.

Making his way through the club, he thought about his past and how different his life had become. Luka was the Laird of his land in Elgin and a tempting morsel to all the bonny women. It was on one of his many trips to court he came upon a woman thrown from her horse. Her clothes were tattered and torn. She had a nasty gash on her head and he feared the worse.

Placing her astride his horse, Luka made a run for the village proper. He knew all of the healers on his lands and knew it was her only chance at survival. Reigning in, his horse skidded to a halt and the woman moaned. Luka reached around her waist to hoist her off when he felt a sharp burning pain in his arm. The burn became a searing pain that rushed to his heart and then his brain. He screamed in agony. Luka’s brain felt like it were melting into a puddle of ooze.

“Evil wench, what have you done to me?” He groaned between clenched teeth.

“Master Luka, Mistress Kira is looking for you,” Fawn said and bowed of her head.

Luka snapped back into the present with Fawn’s whispered words. “Thank you, Fawn. I will make sure your Dom knows how well you follow instructions. I foresee a reward in your future.” He watched as the girl squirmed just a little, and he smiled.

“Thank you Master Luka. May I be excused?”

“Yes you may,” he said as she scurried back over to her Master, Ian.

Ian was a gentle Dom. Luka watched as he tapped her ass with his open palm. They complimented each other very well. He wondered how long it would take before she wore his Celtic collar.

The door to Kira’s office was open. Before stepping over the threshold he kneeled like a proper sub and waited. He could see the stiletto heal of her leather boot peeking out from under her desk. A soft moan passed his lips just thinking about her boot being pressed against his skin. The bite of pain combined with the sting of her whip sent him into sub-space every time. Never once did she cause him to bleed, but many times he came from the pressure she applied. His shaft, which was already hard from walking into the club, grew painfully thick. He would do whatever she asked of him at that moment just for his release.

“Slave, this is not the time for formality. Please enter my office.” Kira didn’t turn the chair toward the door. She faced the window. It made him wonder what had happened in the club since he had left early that morning.

Entering the room, he sat in one of the two chairs she had positioned across from her. There was a small tremor to her hand, and he sighed. She would never knowingly show her anger unless it was something so despicable she couldn’t help it.

After she’d changed him, Mistress Kira claimed him as her slave. His whole life had spiraled out of control. His natural instinct had been to grab her whip and use it against her ass, but she was his maker. The compulsion to do her biding always bounced off the corners of his mind.

“Mistress what has you so upset?” he asked in a soothing voice.

“There is a rogue vampire in my club. He is killing his subs, and pretty soon the police will come looking for them. I need to find him and kill him. He obviously doesn’t know the rules, or he wouldn’t have tried this shit in my club.” There had only ever been one other rogue in the club, and Kira had killed him with her bare hands. The murderer’s incisors hung above her desk in a glass box as a reminder. Do not cross her.

“Do you know who the girl was? Maybe if we check the log from last night we will be able to find him and take him out before he can do it again,” he said. Leaning forward, he tried to catch her gaze.
Even though they were talking about a killer, he still needed her touch. He needed to feel her skin as she rode him to climax. He wanted her to punish him for being so bold in her presence.

Kira turned toward him, her eyes red with fury, her fangs elongated. He groaned as he licked his lips and felt his own incisors grow. The Dom in him wanted to rip the clothes from her body, bind her hands, and fuck her pussy until they both couldn’t walk.

He allowed his thoughts to brush against her psyche. A sensual growl passed her pouty lips as he filtered her images of them tangled together in bed. His cock twitched. Something needed to give, and if she wouldn’t take control of the situation he would. “Mistress,” he rasped.

Kira stood before him. A leather corset covered her ample breasts. His eyes followed the shape of her body, stopping at the thin garter resting on her hips. Her pussy was covered in a glossy sheen of her own cream. Luka bit back a groan and swallowed roughly. Pushing away from the chair, he had her breasts pressed against the wall in no time.

“Do it!” she hissed as he locked his mouth to her neck.

Kicking her legs apart, he held her in place with one hand while the other undid his pants releasing his straining length. In one swift movement he sheathed himself in her warm wet pussy. He moaned as she clenched his shaft and laughed. It took all of his strength not to come from just being in her. Slowly he retreated and entered her again. The movement caused the walls of her vagina to quiver. She cried out as he slammed his cock into her over and over. He wanted to make her come. Fuck, he wanted to come. Holding Kira against him, he turned her toward the desk, bending her over it. She moaned and sighed with every slapped of his sac against her clit. This wasn’t about being sensual or tender—this was about fucking the frustration out of her.

“Take! It! All!” he roared as his pace increased.

Kira screamed as the walls of her pussy rippled and coated him in her come. He thrashed above her as his hands clamped down on her hips and he pushed himself into her. He heard her soft sighs and he felt his sac tighten. He was going to come, and he welcomed it.

The feeling of his release sliding up his shaft had him moaning. He slowed his pace, welcoming his climax. Kira turned her head and smiled as she clamped down on him again…teasing him. He moaned as his seed shot into her core, filling her. Covering her body with his, Luka kissed her neck and breathed in her scent. Her anger had diminished, but the edge was still there.

“Is my Mistress relaxed now?”

She kissed his lips and nodded. “I guess the submissive’s death has affected me more than I thought it would.”


Monday, February 14, 2011

Happy Valentines Peeps!

It's Valentines Day once again peeps. Time to buy the flowers and the chocolates and tell your special someone how much they mean to you. But do you really need a specific day to do that? Shouldn't you be showing how much you care every day?

Maybe I'm cynical, or weird, but I don't need one day out of the year to tell the person I love, how much I care about him. My actions show him every day.

I digress.

It's Valentines peeps, its time for flowers, candy and love.  What does it really mean though? What are the origins of this Lovers holiday?

According to history there were three Christian martyrs who's names were Valentine. These martyrs were murdered and then their remains were buried at different roman churches. I don't see a love connection there peeps. I could be wrong though. LOL!

In 1969 Pope Paul the VI had Valentines Day deleted from the Roman calendar but the people were allowed to celebrate the holiday. Are you confused yet? I am.

The more popular legend of Valentines also comes from the Romans. It would seem Emperor Claudius the II needed an army of  men who were single to go into battle for him. Therefore he deemed no man could marry or fall in love. Men who fell in love and married according to Claudius the II were considered poor soldiers and too weak to preform their duties.

Valentine, a priest, didn't like the idea of the men forgoing marriage just to appease the Emperor. So he secretly married the men in tiny ceremonies. When the Emperor found out he ordered the priest executed. On the night of the execution, the priest sent out his own valentine. According to legend the card was sent to the jailer's daughter, whom he dubbed his beloved. The card was simple and to the point. From your Valentine. Sweet and to the point, wouldn't you say? I think so.

With one legend we started the tradition of sending out Valentine cards, notes and poems about our love for our partners. Then it grew to chocolates and flowers. Now a new study states women will spend on average about sixty dollars on their significant other, while their male counterpart will spend about one hundred and sixty eight dollars on their partner. The difference is a whopping hundred and eight dollar difference. Why?

To me a hand written note is better than a present, but I'm not like everyone else. Chocolate gets eaten, flowers die. Words last forever. So this year I am writing my partner a nice note with a home made card. I think it will mean more than the bottle of cologne Wal-mart claims will brighten my man's day. I think my words will do the trick.

Contest time peeps

Leave me a comment from now until tomorrow morning and you'll be entered into a chance for a copy of my new anthology Be Mine...Completely. Don't forget to add your email addy so I can contact you with your book.

Until later peeps!!


Friday, February 11, 2011

Welcome to the Insanity...

Yes come on in, take a seat and get to know me for a moment. I won't bite too hard, unless you want me too, then its on like Donkey Kong.

I was asked a while back what influences you, who influences you? You know I gave a vague opaque answer. Because I wasn't sure what they were looking for. Were they talking about me, the person, or me the author. You see I distinguish myselves, there is me the author and me the person. But put both halves together and you get this kick ass person.

I have hidden myself too long peeps. Why? I didn't want to be called a poser. So I enjoyed who I was in the safety of my house. My bedroom. So who influences me? Here is the run down peeps, sit back and enjoy.

The Sex Pistols, yes peeps, this author is old enough to have fallen madly in love with them. Mind you I was young, but the lyrics just hit me. Anarchy in the UK will always be my favorite. I would have to say its one of the first instant gratification songs, along with big 'ol fuck you to the government. The song makes you stand up and take notice. They made me realize I didn't have to conform to societies rules. I could be me and no one could tell me no.

My tastes got better as I got older. At 6 and a half (yes that 1/2 is important to a kid) my brother moved in with us and my whole musical awakening started. Sure I listened to Michael Jackson, Hall and Oats, but its not the same as hearing the hard licks of a guitar and knowing you just hit pay dirt. Michael, my bro said hey have you ever heard of Motley Crue? No I hadn't. I was curious. What did Motley Crue mean. What kind of music did they play? Would I like it? I mean I had the Sex Pistols...could they even compare?

I believe the first song I EVER heard come out of Vince Neil's mouth was Shout at the Devil. Holy hell I was hooked. I ran around the house for the next few days screaming SHOUT AT THE DEVIL!!!! I think I drove my mom insane, but it called to me just like the Sex Pistols did. Not only that but even at that tender of age of 6 and a half  I was totally and utterly in love with Nikki Sixx.  I think from time to time I still crush on him. Their music was just the right sound to influence the punk/rocker in me it called to me. I wanted the leather, I needed the big hair, and as thick as mine is, it was HUGE peeps. Seriously. By day at school I was this mild manner kid but at night I was a mini rocker in disguise. While my brother played the air drums I played the air guitar and hit every rift right in time. I was a bad ass kid. Peeps should have been jealous, yo! But they didn't know who I was. This was all done in the privacy of my own home.

God love my mom, she put up with us, my brother and I for so many years even through the Ozzy years too and Metallica. I think I rocked out with these two more than anyone and they stuck with me the longest. I don't know today what it is about them. Hell I don't think it was looks, it was the music I believe. They had meaning, when everything else seemed blah.
All of these people whether in a group or on their own have given everything to their craft, their music. Why shouldn't I, right? I still didn't get it. I went through junior high and high school hiding who I was. I was still afraid of coming out and saying this is me. So fuck off. You'll either like me or you won't. It sounds so simple now at 32 years old but at 12 and 13 you're trying fit in. You don't want the stereotypes which were negative following you around. Or at least I didn't want them. I was too introverted still, I didn't have the skills to tell someone to kiss off, this is me.

I did get them though. I was in college and this man, Marilyn Manson hit the scene. With his bold lyrics and wicked awesome look, he woke me up. He made me see I could be me, I could be free. I could be that rock/goth (because time changed the names) adult. It was okay to like the music I loved as a kid again. He had this confidence about him I never ever had. But I got it. I still cared about what people thought of me, but not in the way I had before. Now I know who I am and all of these people showed me it was okay to be different.

So the point of this post? There is always a point right? Here it is. All of these people influence how I write. Yes I write because I want people to read it and enjoy the ride of each of my stories, but there is more. I write because its who I am. I write in different  genre's, its how you get yourself out there. But about six months ago I had that ut oh what have I done moment. I wrote an Erotic Suspense short and my family bought it. Mortification was my friend. Why? Because I worried again what my family would think of me. I had to remember this is who I am, love me or leave me. I had to get over the fact that family would pick up my books and read them. Damn it, this is for me, so I am going to write what I want. If it means raunchy kinky butt licking sex, I'm gonna be knee deep in it. I can't help who I am or what I like, its me. Take me as I am or leave me behind.

My name is Ashley Blade I create worlds were Erotic sex is okay, BDSM is natural and Action/Adventure is common place. My stories are never slow paced and always leave you guessing till the end. I enjoy my job as a story teller and I wouldn't change anything about me.