This week’s erotic author in the spotlight is Helena Maeve, who writes refreshingly real and yet still breathtakingly sexy erotica. Find out more about this stunningly talented writer below, and enjoy a generous three free excerpts from her erotic novels.
If you’d like to read about other erotic authors you can find the Erotic Author Spotlight Series here. Erotic author and interested in your own free feature post at Cara Sutra? Find the call for submissions page here.
I run a similar free promotional offer for sex bloggers and sex toy reviewers. You can find the Sex Blogger Spotlight Series page here, and the call for submissions (the Q&A and other info to send me) here.
Email me at email@example.com with your info – whether author or blogger – and I will reply with your spotlight date. This will be the next available Monday for authors and the next available Thursday for bloggers.
– Cara Sutra
Hi, Cara Sutra, and thank you for hosting me.
It’s been suggested that I talk about how I got into writing erotic romance—a good idea, considering my sixteen published titles and the many more still waiting in the wings. But for the life of me, I can’t remember.
I do recall the first time I read a sex scene in a ‘serious’ novel. It was in between classes in a catholic school. I don’t recommend it. I also remember having to pick my jaw up off the floor. Suddenly there was a whole world beyond the fade-to-black I was used to. Heroes and heroines didn’t just go from timid first kiss to ‘Here Comes the Bride’. The downside, I soon realized, was that characters who had sex on the page were often punished—I suppose as a sort of comeuppance for daring to titillate the reader.
Between that literary tradition and my knee-jerk rejection of the romance genre as being exclusively geared toward straight women—which, I realized while at said catholic school, I am not—I spent quite a bit of time avoiding erotic novels. But as anyone who reads my blog posts on the TotallyBound.com publishing site can tell you, I’m one of those people who can’t leave well enough alone. When something bothers me, I tend to don my deerstalker cap and try to puzzle out why.
Why don’t I ‘get’ alpha males? Why am I uncomfortable with the billionaire love interest trope?
Often, the answer is that I don’t look deeply enough. I definitely have a habit of judging books by their cover. This was certainly true of my dismissal of romance, erotic or otherwise. It turns out that there is a place for queer readers and authors in the genre; that romance, like every other flavour of fiction, offers a variety of perspectives and stories, and that its readers are as diverse as its authors. Nowadays, I feel more at home reading, and writing, and talking about romance and erotica than I do discussing Hugo-worthy fantasy and sci-fi novels.
Romance can be surprising and bold, or it can be a riff on a comforting cliché. It can be infuriating and hopefully rewarding—and if I’m in the driver’s seat, I try to hit all those buttons at once. I’m not one to stay in one place for long, so my stories run the gamut from straight contemporary romance to gay supernaturals, to spies in love. My latest release from Totally Bound is a ménage BDSM trilogy that gives centre stage to a pair of Doms with a complicated history and a submissive protecting a secret that could cost her everything.
Thank you for having me!
About Helena Maeve
Helena Maeve has always been globe trotter with a fondness for adventure, but only recently has she started putting to paper the many stories she’s collected in her excursions. When she isn’t writing erotic romance novels, she can usually be found in an airport or on a plane, furiously penning in her trusty little notebook.
Twice Upon a Blue Moon blurb:
Book one in the Surface Tension serial. See the full listing here.
Some affairs are like playing with fire, but knowing you’ll get burned is no reason to throw the game.
When her best friend doesn’t show up after a no-strings date with a man she met in a fetish club, Hazel is duty-bound to fetch her from what could be a sticky situation. She doesn’t expect to find her friend’s date so attractive—or so unflappably cool. Not that it matters. Hazel has been burned before and she knows to stay away from handsome men who are patently out of her league, especially when they’re involved with her one and only friend.
Tesla-driving, suit-wearing Dylan more than fits the bill. But every barb Hazel throws him makes him rise to the challenge, and he doesn’t want her to find a way to say no. But not only does Dylan have his own playroom and a sound grip on the S&M lifestyle, he’s also a man of many secrets. Dylan sees a place for Hazel in his bed, but what he wants is more than a one-night stand.
As she acclimates to the idea that Dylan may not be entirely straight or entirely single, Hazel soon finds herself caught between two dominant men whose bond seems to balance on a knife’s point.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of BDSM.
Excerpt from Twice Upon a Blue Moon:
Dylan dragged his fingertips down the swell of her breast, cautiously avoiding her nipple. He smirked when Hazel squirmed, swaying languidly between floor and ceiling hook, and laughed when she moaned as he pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Something to say? By all means, don’t edit yourself.”
He scraped the blunt side of his nail into the sensitive nub of flesh, waiting for her whimper before letting go.
“You and I are going to have so much fun together.”
Was that a backhanded compliment? Before Hazel could make up her mind, he was repeating the process with her other breast, alternating achingly sweet caresses with sharp, painful castigation. Hazel rocked back on her heels, torn between wanting to arch her back and offer herself up for more, and inching back as far as her bonds allowed to escape the torment.
Dylan made her mind up by wrapping an arm around her waist, fingers splayed against the swell of her ass, and dipping his mouth to her chest. If Hazel thought him kissing her lips was breathtaking, she’d been too quick to judge. Warmth pooled low in her belly, gushing out as she curled her toes into the floor.
“Oh, fuck, yes…” A ragged breath tore out of her lungs—close to, but not quite, a moan.
She never thought she could come from someone playing with her nipples before—the very idea seemed like Cosmo levels of pseudo-science—but with Dylan rolling his tongue against her flesh, she began to revise that firm denial. Every swipe of his teeth, every wet, mind-blowing suck had her inner muscles clenching around thin air, cunt begging to be filled. Her clit throbbed in time with the pendulum flick of Dylan’s tongue. And just as her pleas rose to a crescendo, he pulled away.
Hazel groaned, breaths knifing in and out of her chest. “Bastard.”
“Careful,” he warned. “I have gags in here, too, you know.”
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Hazel found the oft-traveled road to alarm easy to scale. She sucked her lips between her teeth, clamping her jaw shut.
Dylan took her chin. “That’s better.” The kiss he planted on her cheek was gentle and wet. “Wouldn’t want to have to punish you, would we?”
Glass Houses blurb:
Miriam’s world is knocked off kilter when an ex-lover walks back into her life, eager to reacquaint himself with both her wit and her whip.
Fresh out of college, Miriam Chase has only recently found work as nanny to a wealthy couple with three unruly children. Mere months into the job and her personal life is already on hold. Dating is out of the question and romance hasn’t really been on the docket since she pinned her hopes on the wrong man back in college.
The man in question? Rakishly handsome and enigmatic in all the right ways, he was around just long enough to open her eyes to the joys of whips and leather, and submissive men. Miriam should have known that he wouldn’t call. She’s been telling herself she’s over him for the past two years. It’s not until a dinner party throws him back into her orbit that she realizes old scars can still smart.
Elliot McFarland has known the Hamiltons for twenty years and can’t fathom missing one of their famous soirees. He has no idea that his one and only romantic indiscretion is now their nanny. In the two week stretch before Elliot must leave for the East Coast, he and Miriam are quick to resume their affair, all props included. But secrets have a way of rising to the surface of even the stillest waters and with their illicit romance brought out into the open, Miriam may well be forced to choose between being employed and being with Elliot.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of anal sex, the use of a strap-on and non-graphic description of sexual assault.
Excerpt from Glass Houses:
I would’ve been lying if I had said pegging was something I did for my partners. Sure, they asked for it—though sometimes not in so many words—and sometimes I pretended to be put-upon when I obliged, but the truth was that I relished the power to be the one doing the taking from time to time. And, with Elliot, the sweet whimpers he made as my fingers parted his ass cheeks and dipped into the cleft were enough to conjure all sorts of desires.
I worked my digits into him slowly. Just one might have been enough if he had wanted to feel the burn of penetration, but we hadn’t talked much about his pain tolerance—or anything else, really—so I chose to play it safe. I wanted to do this again before he left for Nantucket and the best way to make that wish come true was to ensure this was a good experience for everyone involved. He pulled off with a shudder when I crooked my fingers inside him, breaths catching in his throat as he bowed his head.
“Good?” I asked, because having him at my mercy didn’t mean I was psychic.
Elliot nodded, albeit a little shakily, and leaned his brow against my inner thigh. I stroked his hair as soothingly as I could when I wanted nothing more than to spread my legs and guide his mouth to my sopping pussy. Some other time. Right now, I was in the mood to see him spitted on my plastic dick, to make him come.
“Turn around,” I ordered, forcing all gentleness out of my voice. I couldn’t afford to be too accommodating. The whole illusion was that he had to please me or else be punished. Never mind that the punishment would, by definition, be something that Elliot asked for, or that I was working hard to give him what he wanted even as I got my own rocks off. Every layer of our time together had its purpose. I wouldn’t be enjoying myself half as much if it weren’t for the sight of his shoulders flexing as he took position, or the subservient slant of his head as he waited for me to take him.
In the Presence of Mine Enemy blurb:
A game of spy against spy leaves little room for second chances.
Freshly retired from Section ranks, Hailey is glad to be out of the tangle of spy games that cost him both family and friends. All he wants is a quiet holiday on the French coast, his first in many years. He doesn’t expect to look up one day and find a former agent looking back—much less a man who should be rotting in prison.
Adam Asche gave Section the best years of his life, but when a mission went south, his associates callously deserted him behind enemy lines. Presumed dead, he has taken full advantage of his purported demise to resurrect his career as a hired gun. The opportunity to settle accounts with his former handler brings him to France and, soon enough, to Hailey’s bed.
But the longer Adam delays in fulfilling his mission, the more impatient his clients become. Leveraging desire against the time-sensitive nature of his contract quickly puts both Adam and Hailey in lethal peril.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of violence.
Excerpt from In the Presence of Mine Enemy:
As soon as the hotel room door was locked firmly shut behind them, Hailey gave himself over. He crashed into the wall, skull ringing with the impact as a mirror two feet away gave a perilous rattle. Neither of them paid it any mind. Bad luck was a given, though seven years of it would’ve been rather ambitious.
Adam drove a leg between his thighs, pinning him from hips to shoulders against the striped wallpaper. “Say you don’t want to fuck me.”
“You don’t want to fuck me,” Hailey repeated obligingly. He might have been an old geezer, long past his prime and lacking the kind of draw he might have had in his youth, but he could still flirt with Adam. He could still tease him to distraction.
All he needed was a moment to reclaim the upper hand.
It came in the shape of a reluctant guffaw and the stroke of fingertips down his flank. Hailey caught that errant fist and used it to draw Adam’s attention to the firming arch of his cock. Adam was a quick study. He groaned against Hailey’s mouth, closing fingers around his member and giving him a sure squeeze.
“That’s not what I meant,” he growled against his lips.
“I know.” He’d meant it as a challenge, the kind of thing Hailey might have appreciated ten, twenty years ago when he’d had something to prove and sex—especially sex with men—had been a push-pull struggle between what they wanted to give and what he was willing to take. At his age, he had lost his appetite for play-fighting in the bedroom. He let Adam stroke and kiss him for a while, steadily thickening under his ministrations. “I do,” he added after a beat.
“Yes.” He had nothing they could use, no condoms or slick, he hadn’t come to France prepared to accost streetwalkers or hire prostitutes. He certainly hadn’t expected to wind up in bed with one of his former field agents. A rogue agent, his conscience supplied, tasked with a very particular mission.