This week it’s the lovely Barbara Elsborg in the erotic author spotlight, who is published by Totally Bound. You can find out more about Barbara below, including three free excerpts from her sexy books, Kiss Interrupted, Talking Trouble and Perfect Trouble.
Thanks for stepping into the spotlight this week, Barbara, it’s lovely to feature your works here at Cara Sutra.
– Cara Sutra
Author Feature: Barbara Elsborg
Hi everyone! I’m Barbara Elsborg and currently live in the north of the UK but will shortly be relocating to the south. I started writing ‘proper stories’ when I was in my teens and finished my first exceedingly long novel in my twenties. It was dark and violent BUT there was romance at the heart and I realised that was the part I liked writing the most along with snarky dialogue.
I’ve had a lot of jobs including selling cyanide, but I really wanted to join the foreign office and be a spy. Except I told so many people, it sort of ruined my chances. Apart from which, I couldn’t cope with being tortured. I used to think I could but husband pointed out, they’d only have to threaten my kids and I’d say anything. Or tickle my feet.
So I think I was destined to be a writer. I’ve had around forty pieces of work published, most of them full length novels. I write MF, MMF ménages, and MM novels too, in a variety of genres – contemporary, paranormal, romantic suspense and sci fi. I like writing about quirky heroines and guys with problems, mix in a dose of humour, some hot sex and – that sums up my books!
I love to hear from readers and can be contacted via my website, where I also blog.
And I can be found haunting
My latest release with Totally Bound Publishing is an MF paranormal called ‘Kiss Interrupted’.
Kiss Interrupted by Barbara Elsborg Blurb:
Not his type.
It should have been simple. A temporary move from London to Leeds to manage the office while a boss is sick, but as Fyn watches the workforce enjoy a summer party, he feels more than guilt over the looming downsizing. He’s tasked with making many happy people redundant, and that includes Libby Pasternak, who has her face painted as a tiger, wears boots on a summer’s day, has an ear full of piercings and is so distracting, she almost bowls him out at cricket. Unthinkable.
Most conflicting of all, why is he even thinking about seizing the moment, instead of his rule concerning getting involved with employees—especially with one so not in his league?
Not her type.
Libby likes blond surfer dudes with big dreams and even bigger smiles, not a guy like stick-in-the-mud Mr. Sensible, otherwise known as Fyn Marlowe. Then he gives her a lift home from the office party, and she finally has to admit to herself the depth of her Grand Canyon-sized crush. One that chokes itself to death two days later, when he erroneously accuses her of screwing up a major account. She may be a bit different, but her work is always the best.
Their blazing row resolves with her getting sacked, ending any chance of exploring where things could have led.
His type, her type—none of the preconceived ideas of a perfect partner matters when the world—literally—comes crashing down.
Libby smoothed her fingers over his forehead. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t spoil this.”
She ran her finger along his cheekbone, down the side of his face, along the line of his chin and up to his lips.
“You know I always thought I liked fair haired surfer dudes,” she said.
“I can surf.”
She widened her eyes. “Standing up?”
Fyn laughed. “Yes. I can show—yep, standing up.”
“For more than three seconds?”
She fluttered her eyelashes at him and Fyn’s smile widened. “What else were you looking for in a guy?”
“Exactly two inches taller than me because I didn’t want to crane my neck but I’ve found I quite like being with someone as tall as you. When you’re lying down it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“Untidy hair.” She ruffled his hair. “That’s better. Okay you don’t have sun-streaked locks but I can pretend that gray—ouch.”
He’d twisted her finger. “I didn’t have one gray hair until you nearly bowled me out at cricket. What else?”
“The adventurous type who’d spend his weekends rock climbing or mountain biking or canyoning.”
“What the hell is that?”
“Cliff jumping, wild water swimming, sliding down natural water flumes, abseiling, scrambling under waterfalls.”
“Have you done any of that?”
“No. I was waiting to find a guy to do it with me.”
“I will. But you have to jump first.”
Her face lit up and Fyn suspected that had more to do with him pretending they had a chance of a future than his offer to take part in what sounded like a nightmare.
“Anything else?” he asked, wondering how far from her perfect guy he could get.
“Not too muscular. Lean. I don’t like guys with huge…muscles.”
“I thought I liked blue eyes but I was wrong. I like dark gray eyes, long lashes.”
“Tattoos. But you don’t have any.”
“I could be convinced to get a small one somewhere discreet.”
“On your cock?”
He winced. “No.”
“I’ve gone off them anyway.”
“Then I won’t get one. What about the one you have? A snowflake. What made you choose that?”
“I like the snow. It reminds me of Russia.”
“What else do you want in a guy?”
“One who’s good in bed, but I can make do.”
He scowled. “You won’t even let me have that?”
She chuckled. “A guy who smiles more than scowls.”
“I thought I’d forgotten how to smile until I met you. I wish—”
She put her finger on his lips. “Save your wishes. We’ll have a big wish-fest another day. Are you ready for your afternoon treat?”
He rocked his erection against her belly. “I appear to be.”
She tried to pull away but he slid his hand over her back and held her in place.
Libby moaned. “I want to take you somewhere.”
“My turn to take you somewhere.”
He pushed his thigh between her legs, rocked against her and she melted against him. He wanted this to be good for her, wanted to make her happy. He slid his hand under her dress, touched lace and shuddered. He might want to make her happy but it was his chest that tightened, his breathing that quickened. She kissed him harder and he fizzed like the champagne they’d drunk, his cock thickening behind his zipper, his balls tensing.
She clung to him, writhed against him as he eased his fingers under the tiny strip of lace, their kiss growing wilder when he touched the hard nub of her clit. He wanted this to be more than good. He wanted it to be fantastic. He wanted to drive all thoughts of a sun-bleached surfer dude from her head and replace them with dreams about a tall, dark-haired, maths-obsessed guy with muscles exactly the right size.
He fucked her mouth with his tongue and her sex with his finger—fingers, tormenting her with slow slides and hard thrusts. He drew circles around her clit with his thumb, flicked it, rubbed it, and was on the point of sliding down to taste when she exploded with a loud cry. He swallowed the sound as her muscles clenched around his fingers. She soaked his hand as she unraveled and he kept stroking, elongating her pleasure until she slumped boneless in his arms.
“I am so lucky,” she whispered. “I got a guy who’s good in bed and who’s good on the pavement. I’ll start a list at where you’re good at sex. You must have hidden talents I have yet to discover.”
Her fingers were busy with his zipper then it was all frantic activity, yanking down his pants, pulling her on top of him, down onto him and he managed a few thrusts before he came. Didn’t I?
My MMF ménage with Totally Bound Publishing is called ‘Talking Trouble’.
Talking Trouble by Barbara Elsborg Blurb:
Two men are separated by more than the dam between their houses. Can Mollie be the path that unites them?
Flint Klavan appears to have it all. The sought-after British actor is affluent, loved and vocal in his professional life but privately he’s a mess. A devastating breakup leaves him full of self-loathing. He hopes to find the way to turn things around when disaster strikes. He’s left speechless with fear he’ll never get the chance to recover what he’s lost.
Mollie James has the perfect job teaching children, and used to have the perfect boyfriend. Attentive, kind and thoughtful. Only now he’s not. She has to sacrifice everything if she’s any chance to survive, and run as fast and as far as she can.
Lysander Weldon is a wealthy, talented artist who’s hidden himself away following personal tragedies. He shares his house and his body but never his heart. When opportunity to forgive confronts him, he has to choose between giving up his fortress or bracing to watch happiness leave him behind.
Mollie licked his mouth, trailed her tongue over his teeth and nibbled his lip, doing some groaning of her own. Their tongues tangled, kisses shifting from slow and soft to fast and hard until they were necking with the desperation of teenagers and the skill of adults, finding every way their mouths could fit together. With their fingers threaded in each other’s hair, they kissed and kissed and kissed.
She was on fire, her nipples tight and painful, her panties damp with arousal. The muscles of her sex were clenching in a rhythm that warned her she was going to come—from a kiss?—and she struggled to pull herself under control. He lifted her so that she straddled his lap and when she felt the hardness of his cock against her belly, she shuddered. Oh God. She should stop this. Flint Klavan could have anyone he wanted, had probably had everyone he wanted. She wasn’t easy. But sense was a lone voice amid a clamor of others wanting more. She rocked against him, and he slipped a hand around her back and pulled her closer, lifting his hips to bring their bodies together.
No, no, no, I can’t come, I can’t.
He broke for air and muttered, “Moll…ee.”
She’d never been kissed like this, had never kissed anyone like this, yet even as she fell deeper and raced toward orgasm, the awareness that this could only end in heartbreak pulled her back. They lived in different worlds. He mixed with film stars, models, glamorous people. She didn’t want to be needed for the wrong reasons, just because she was there, because she offered him hope, because, at that moment, he had no one else. But even as common sense pounded its way into her head, he stroked her cheek, changed the angle of his mouth, held her tight and she went under again.
The kiss turned hard and forceful, and they panted into each other’s mouth, unable to stop kissing, unable to stop writhing against each other. Mollie rubbed the junction of her legs against the hard ridge of his cock and the prospect of coming undone headed beyond likely into inevitable. Think, Mollie girl, think. Where can this go? That she was on the point of not caring scared her into action. You have to stop. She flung herself off him, landed on the floor with a thump and the need to come vanished in a flood of pain.
Flint stared down at her, his blue eyes wide, his lips slick from the kiss they’d just shared. Then he clenched his fists, closed his eyes and dropped his head. He looked at her again and said, “I don’t know the answer.” Then he said something else that made no sense at all and he groaned.
She moved back onto the couch, took his hand and he opened his eyes. She wanted to tell him she was scared, that her heart was too fragile, that he didn’t know what he was doing, but she wasn’t sure she could have explained even if he’d been able to understand. Pointing to herself, she shook her head, drew an imaginary zipper across her lips and drew a cross on her heart before she laid her hand on it. I won’t tell anyone about you, I promise.
He nodded but looked as bewildered as she felt. She lifted the device the therapist had left, pulled up a clock, showed him six thirty the next day, found a picture on Google images of the dam that ran between their houses and pointed to the middle. He smiled and a lump grew in her throat. She hadn’t thought he’d let her go, but he did.
My third book with Totally Bound Publishing is an MF paranormal called ‘Perfect Trouble’.
Perfect Trouble by Barbara Elsborg Blurb:
Jonah, who’s always in trouble, lands in even deeper water when he meets Jinx, but suddenly trouble doesn’t look so bad anymore, in fact, it looks perfect.
Unwilling to forgo final respects even from a distance, Jinx sneaks to the funeral of a mother she hasn’t seen for fifteen years, and lands in the worst trouble of her life. The alpha of the Washburn Valley pack never stopped searching for her and now he has Jinx, he’s not going to let her go. She’s extraordinary breeding material—a super wolf in every way; fast, smart and an exceptional shifter—but she’d rather eat her own eyeballs than mate with him. She just needs to figure out a way to escape.
Jonah’s been in trouble all his life. The faery is currently under an indenture punishment for theft, but the idea of doing an extraction from the Washburn Valley pack fills him with dread. The wolves know his face, know he stole their gold and if they catch him, they’ll eat his guts, with or without ketchup. But saying no when he’s ordered north isn’t an option. His plan to get into the compound works, but that’s the only thing that does. He’s staked and wrapped in iron without even getting a glimpse of his target.
For a pair born to trouble, a shifter and a fairy could be perfect for each other, if only they survive long enough to do more than run.
Jonah—the bastard—was still sniggering when they were clothed, back on the bike and heading out to the road.
“Dogging.” He chuckled. “Maybe we should rename it wolfing.”
Jinx rolled her eyes.
“We were a bit wild though,” he said. “You okay?”
“Fine. It was nice.” She grinned as she felt him tense.
“I don’t like that word.”
“Nice? It was fucking amazing. I’d have done it again too if we hadn’t been interrupted. It was… I wish I was saying this to your face. I’ve never felt that before. Never wanted quite so much to feel it again. And again. Oh hell, and again.”
She laughed and slid a hand over his cock. Nope, he wasn’t lying.
“I was hoping for the Ritz next time, but I can see another Hilton coming up,” he said. “A whole forest of them. Though I’d prefer a bed. Maybe we could try out every hotel on the whole route back. What do you think?”
“Jonah, look out,” she shouted.
But she could see it was going to be too late. As they’d turned the corner Jinx had spotted the wire stretched across the road, but he hadn’t.
“Shit.” Jonah braked, the bike skidded and Jinx clutched him harder.
Please don’t let us crash. Please don’t let us crash.
They somehow shot in the air, soaring over the wire and down to land hard on the far side. The bike shuddered to a halt. Jonah kicked down the stand, then slumped with a loud groan. Jinx cried out as she was jerked backward. Her helmet was pulled off and a silver chain looped around her neck.
Stephan hauled an unconscious Jonah off the bike, removed his helmet and snapped an iron collar around his neck. Jinx struggled with the wolves holding her, but she was dragged around the corner to a lay-by where a number of vehicles were parked.
The pair holding her pushed her to her knees in front of Morrison. Stephan dropped Jonah at her side. He sprawled in an untidy heap and didn’t move. Morrison launched a kick at his ribs and Jonah grunted.
“Don’t,” Jinx gasped.
“Wake him up,” Morrison snapped.
Stephan pulled Jonah to a sitting position and smacked his hand back and forth across his face. Jonah groaned and as he came round, he was shoved to his knees next to her.
“Almost an ET moment there with a flying bike,” Morrison said. “I suppose I should thank you for returning my bride without a scratch. I had hoped you might break your neck, faery, and save me the trouble. Jinx would have been fine, of course, she heals very quickly.”
“Shift. Run,” Jonah urged.
He turned his head, saw the silver chain and the gloved wolf holding it, and gave her a desperate look.
“Even if I could run, I wouldn’t leave you,” she said.
“Oh, how sweet,” Morrison said with a sneer. “Well, I tell you what, bitch, I’ll let you stay with him until the end. You can watch the pansy die. It won’t take long. I’m going to heap so much iron on him, he’ll be begging for death.”
“Let him go and I’ll do whatever you want,” she said.
The bastard laughed. “You’re going to do whatever I want anyway.” He rubbed his crotch and Jonah struggled to get to him.
“Don’t touch her.” Jonah gave an enraged howl.
One of the men smashed his clenched fist onto Jonah’s head and he crumpled. Fury surged in Jinx, but when she tried to launch herself at Morrison, a yank on the chain kept her down. Despair ate at her heart. I can’t save Jonah and I can’t save myself.
“I love you,” Jonah said. “Better say it while I still can.”
“I love you,” she whispered back and when he smiled, she made herself smile, too. Because no matter what happened, she’d always have those words in her heart.
When Jinx saw about a dozen wolves padding up behind Morrison and his cronies, she gave a low growl.
Half the group shifted into human form and Morrison spun round.
“Who the fuck are you?” he snapped.
“Who the fuck are you?” asked a tall, dark haired guy who had a very big…oh damn don’t look. Trouble was she was on her knees. It was hard not to look at it.
“I’m David Morrison, alpha of the Washburn Valley pack.”
“And where are you, David Morrison?” the man asked. The wolf by his side growled and he stroked its head.
“Er…” Morrison mumbled.
“I’m Caleb Black. Alpha of this territory. Did I invite you here? No. Are you welcome here? No.”
Jinx felt the glimmerings of hope.
“Apologies,” Morrison said. “We’ll take our problem elsewhere.”
He signaled to Stephan and Jinx shouted, “I claim sanctuary.”
Both alphas stared at her. She had no idea if there was such a thing as claiming sanctuary, but this could be the only chance she and Jonah had.
“This is our business,” Morrison snapped.
“On his land,” Jinx said. “That makes it your business, Mr Black.”
Black’s gaze moved from her to Jonah and back to her. The wolf at his side padded to Jinx, sniffed, whimpered when he nudged the silver chain and returned to the alpha.
“What’s she done?” Black asked.
“She’s mine and the fucking faery took her.”
Black stared at her. Jonah wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed weakly.
“You’re an idiot. How can you have no idea how to be an alpha?” Black asked.
Morrison glowered, his fists clenching. “Fuck you. What right do you have to speak to me like that?”
“Every right. You’re on my land. Leave now.”
When Stephan hauled Jinx to her feet, Black shook his head. “No, you don’t take either of them with you.”
“She’s my mate,” Morrison said with a low growl.
Black laughed. “No. She’s not. You don’t chain a mate in silver.”
“She’s going to have my cubs.” Morrison stepped toward Black and Black’s wolf moved between them.
“Get in your vehicles and leave.”
Yes, just fucking go. Jinx watched as Morrison decided what to do.
“I considerably outnumber you,” Black said. “Think carefully.”
Writer Features at Cara Sutra
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