Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Happy Anniversary, Dance of the Seven Veils



This week I’m celebrating the eighth anniversary of the publication of my first Ellora’s Cave book, Danceof the Seven Veils. I signed the contract in June 2004 and had to wait until January 28, 2005 to see it actually available to the public. What a delirious high.

In those days I didn’t think of a four-book series, or that I’d have twelve books out by January 2013, I just knew that I wanted to be an Ellora’s Cave author, because they were the publisher who put erotic romance on the map. Previously, editors had loved my writing but consistently told me to tone down my love scenes. Imagine how delighted I was that I could push my own personal envelope as far as writing about sex was concerned!

Dance of the Seven Veils is the coming-of-age story of a 39-year-old heroine whose ex-husband psychologically abused her. It took great courage for Lyssa to let her friend coax her to a masquerade party at a private sex club. Costumed as Salome in diaphanous veils, she receives many a compliment from admirers, giving her the impetus to act out when she hears Richard Strauss’ erotic music from the opera Salome played over loudspeakers.

This is part of what happens at the party:

Excerpt from Dance of the Seven Veils
© Cris Anson

He pulled both sides of the slicker apart and hauled her up against his naked length. One hand came around her shoulder; the other took hold of her hand as in a normal dancing stance. He slid the hand down from her shoulder to the small of her back, tightening his hold. With the other he positioned her palm on his hairy thigh. And started swaying to Coltrane and the blues, snuggling his erect penis against her. “I’ve always dreamed of holding Marilyn Monroe in my arms,” he murmured into her ear. “And now I’ve got her. All soft curves. All woman.”

For a moment Lyssa went shell-shocked at his comment, then relaxed a bit and reveled in the warmth, the safety of being wrapped in strong, male arms. She relished the feel of his hard cock pressing between her legs, evidence that she was a desirable woman. Heat from his swarthy skin radiated through the thin silk into every pore, raising her internal temperature almost to a point where she had to reciprocate.

Suddenly she felt heat on her back as well. Someone—unmistakably a man, naked as well—pressed against her from behind. Large, callused hands settled around her waist. She felt the slight scrape of five o’clock shadow against her nape, warm breath in her ear. He, too, seemed decidedly aroused, his engorged penis finding the cleft between her buttocks and moving his hips suggestively.

A shiver that was half panic, half desire, zapped through Lyssa. Eyes closed, she allowed herself to live in the moment, to examine her dichotomous reaction to what Kat had once laughingly called a “man sandwich” with her as the filling. In the prim, repressed part of her mind that George had boarded up tight, she knew she shouldn’t be allowing this, that she was merely a handy receptacle for two indiscriminate males in heat. Yet, in the part that was awakening to adventure, she knew that nothing would happen without her consent. That Kat had somehow known she wasn’t frigid but only needed an opportunity to discover that fact. That she had had some part in arousing these two sexually sophisticated men who took more and more intimate liberties the longer she stood quiescent.

She could feel the two penises, hard, hot, urgently seeking, which had somehow snuck under her veils and stroked her, skin against skin, skin against pubic hair. Their breathing became more ragged, and hers along with it, their hands touching, caressing, stroking her in every place they could reach.

“No.” It came out a whisper. She opened her eyes, cleared her throat. “No,” she said, more forcefully.

She knew she was blushing furiously. She couldn’t meet the fireman’s eyes as he slowly, regretfully, took a step back. The other did as well, his hands slow to leave her waist, trailing his fingers as if trying to prolong contact. Would they think she was merely a cockteaser? So what? She’d never see them again.

One didn’t just jump into something like this, she rationalized. Why, even with salsa she started out mild, only gradually building up her palate to the point where she enjoyed the sizzling chilies. To herself she could admit that the feelings she had experienced in the past several hours had exceeded anything she’d known in her life. But to give these two strangers access to her orifices because she had allowed them to arouse her—she just couldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said, head bent down in something akin to guilt. It was the George syndrome all over again, an inability to satisfy a man, freezing up at an inopportune moment, her congenital inadequacy surfacing with a vengeance.

“Sweetheart,” the man behind her murmured, “you’ve nothing to be sorry for. You’re the hottest firecracker I’ve ever lit. If the other guys knew the feel of you against them, how shivery you react, they’d be lining up for a chance to touch you.”

Original cover from 2005
He brushed his lips against her nape in a parting gesture. “And I’m sure as hell not going to tell them. I want to be first in line.”

And he was gone.

In her peripheral vision, Lyssa noted the fireman, incongruously barefoot with his slicker, still stood near her. She lifted her head, thrust out her chin, ready to flinch at a stinging putdown she was sure would come.

“I second the motion.” He smiled, a slow, sensuous smile full of hunger, and turned to snag a longneck bottle of beer from a passing waiter’s tray. “To you,” he said, lifting the bottle in tribute. “The new Marilyn Monroe. Sex goddess incarnate.”

And he moved into the shadows, leaving Lyssa alone while her heart pounded and her breasts rose and fell with her labored breathing. She could hardly believe it. She, whom George had called a fat cow, had captured the interest of several attractive, virile men. Were they just seeking new blood? Or was Kat right, and she was a desirable woman?


Find Dance of the Seven Veils and all my books at Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, All Romance eBooks and other venues.

Lyssa dared to find her sensuality. What’s the most daring thing you’ve ever done?

10 comments:

  1. Happy Birthday,Cris
    I have read this book Punishment and Mercy and really enjoy it
    I wish lot of joy and great success for all your books
    Cheers
    Mannouchka.

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  2. Wow, huge congratulations, Cris! I have the Dance series on my keeper shelf--how exciting to be celebrating this wonderful milestone and celebrating a little daring ;)

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  3. A big congratulations, Cris. I'm so happy for you! If you lived closer, we could do a snoopy dance. We'll save that for October, ok???
    I called in to a radio station whose guest was an author that was giving away a copy of her book, 101 Nights of Great Sex. I had to tell what was my favorite thing to do to surprise my man. So I told them in graphic detail and I won a copy of the book. :)

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  4. Julianne! And you're not going to tell US???? You can't be shy if you told half the world already.

    Thank you, Mannouchka and Fedora, for your kind words. I hope you have also done some daring things in your life :-)

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  5. Congrats, Chris. TIme does fly--you are the Queen of Dare, may you reign for many decades : )
    Best,
    Cathy Tully

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  6. LOL. Queen of Dare, I love it! Thanks, Cathy.

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  7. Happy Anniversary, Cris. Definitely something to celebrate!

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  8. Congrats Cris! I loooove this book!

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  9. Yeah, I'm a few days behind...but, congrats on your anniversary...time flies when you're writing, eh? I know it does for me...here's to the next eight years...

    Cheers,
    Alan.

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