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Posts Tagged ‘Andalusia’

HOT SPANISH NIGHTS released today from The Wild Rose Press.  http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wilderroses/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=792

I’m having a Release Day Party at The Pink Fuzzy Slippers http://pinkfuzzyslipperwriters.blogspot.com/  Please drop by for fun giveaways, including a download of HOT SPANISH NIGHTS.  There is also a blog on bullfighting since the hero is a rejoneador.

Damian, the hero in HSN, is being interviewed at http://www.tonivsweeney.com/Blog/Blog.html  I’m offering a HSN coffee mug to a random winner who comments with Damian.

I’m excited about HSN.  For years, I bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses, and these beautiful equines are featured in HSN.  I fell instantly in love with Damian because he is a master horseman and a master of other very erotic skills!!  See the trailer.

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An excerpt from my caliente story about a bullfighter and a socialite and the wonderful Andalusian horse:

Erica DeLongpre was living her fantasy.
At last, she was in Spain, in Andalusia.
And in lust.
She and tall, dark and handsome Damián Xérès rode the magnificent gray stallion bareback. This enticing man smelled of horses and leather, and he was all man, from the top of his head to the tips of his shiny riding boots—an enchanting journey of about six feet-two-inches. The horse’s silvery mane whipped in the breeze. Flowers spilled their scent into the morning. The sun on the white sand of the riding arena was blinding, like a dream.
She closed her eyes, pictured the man behind her. His brilliant white shirt, open at the neck, showed a sprinkling of dark hair on his chest. She leaned back pretending the strong arm lightly circling her waist hugged her tight against that muscled chest. As she rocked with the cadence of the horse’s canter, she imagined Damián’s firm, hot cock pressed to her butt. When she visualized how his erection would look in the tight riding breeches, a pleasant shiver glided over her.
Mustn’t let my imagination run away like this.
“Sit deep,” he said, and her fantasy became a reality as he slid closer.
His long legs molded to hers, stroked ever so slightly to the three-beat thud of hooves. Sweat broke on her brow. Her heart pounded in her ears, reverberating in her core. She should inch away from the hard pressure on her ass, but he felt too damned good. Images of turning around and doing him on the horse scrolled through her mind. She lost the rhythm of the stallion’s smooth gait and slid to the side.
Damián’s arm closed around her waist, steadying her. “We must work on your seat, Erica. You look beautiful on a horse, but you must become one with him.”
Thinking of becoming one with him—the man not the horse—caused the problem.

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