Did You Make Santa's Naughty List

Making Santa’s Naughty List…ever wonder if your thoughts or actions have landed you on that infamous scroll?  If your answer is no, don’t get your tinsel in a tangle, here are a couple of fun ideas to have Santa contemplating a switch for you next year.

Okay, picture this.  You’re at the local coffee house kicked back enjoying your favorite latte or Frappuccino.  You scan the room and your breath catches at the extremely attractive person standing in line.  Close your eyes and picture that person in the throes of a climax.

You’ll be amazed at how your pulse will speed up and your breathing will deepen.  It’s just a fantasy folks, now take that feeling and use it. Endorphins make everything merry and bright :)

Later, you’re sitting at the computer scanning the internet.  The house is quiet and you’ve covered your inbox and other pertinent chores.  Force your mouse to the incognito setting and pull up a search box.  Type in the one sexual fantasy you’ve never had the nerve to share, with anyone. Your palms will sweat as you hover over the search button.  The bottom drops out of your stomach as you click…

Today’s world is all about instant gratification. I’m all for gratification, but take the time to treat yourself to a little fantasy every now and then.  Let the heat build and soon you’ll have more than visions of sugar plums dancing in your head as you sleep.  And remember…Santa is very jolly because he knows where all of the Naughty folks live – especially since he only comes once a year!

*Snort* I can’t believe I went there. Okay, yes I can.  Everyone please have a Happy and Very Naughty Christmas.

Nese Lane

Erotic Romance with a little bit of edge.

I almost forgot the most important part.  Prizes! For a chance to win a digital copy of Angel’s Addiction please leave a comment.  The grand prize is a $50.00 Amazon or Barnes & Noble gift card so follow the Rafflecopter for your chance to win!

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Smokin’ hot body, a voice that sends shivers down your spine, then top it off with an empathic ability to sense your every desire… Everyone has a rock star fantasy, right?  Take a peek at my new release Angel’s Addiction.

Lustful addiction to an empathic rock star leads to love and deadly games…

His angel...

Gabriella Blanchett can't seem to resist the addictive lure of another pleasure-filled night with the smoldering rock star. He'd be perfect except for the sudden and mysterious disappearances in the middle of the night. His ability to sense her every need, coupled with the secrets he harbors, leave her head spinning, her body humming, and her heart in jeopardy.

Her addiction...

Rock star Auro Moretti tours the world with a goal that's two-fold. He hopes his music is inspiring, but as an empath, he also heals tortured young souls in the audience with his gypsy gift. Protecting his family's secret and Romani heritage proves as difficult a task as keeping Gabriella in his bed.

She fills his soul with light...he feeds her craving for love...and a stalker threatens to destroy both.

Excerpt:

     I peered around the corner into the kitchenette area. Auro stood with his back to me, and I took a moment to appreciate the view. He’d drug on a pair of soft well-worn jeans. The fabric molded his ass in a way that had me drooling. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, and muscles played across his back when he leaned forward and laid a single red rose on the room service tray.
     Preoccupied with his task, he quietly sang a tune I didn’t recognize. The sound of his voice had me wet in five seconds flat. I’m so easy.
     I slipped behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Mmm, morning.” I slid the long silky strands of his hair over so I could kiss where my lips met his spine. The deep rumble of his chuckle tickled my cheek as I snuggled against his warmth. 
     “Try afternoon, cara, it is after three. I was just coming to bring you something to eat and find out your plans for this evening. I had hoped to wake you in a completely different manner, but this works almost as well.” 
     He turned in my arms, tightened his hold, and lowered his head to brush his lips across my mouth. And there it was…the euphoric feeling of his kiss. The fix I needed from my drug of choice—Auro. It hit my system with enough punch, my knees weakened. I steadied myself by grasping his shoulders, leaning my full weight against his tension-filled frame. 
     “Sorry to spoil your fun. How can I make it up to you?” I murmured against his lips. Heat flashed in his gaze, and I slowly lowered myself to my knees.

Want more?  You can find it here :)  http://amzn.com/B00FZ1O1HM
I would love to hear from you. Shoot me an e-mail at nese@neselane.com
or cruise over to my website http://neselane.com/

Don't forget to stop here every day from December 9 – 16 for another post and another chance to win! I hope you have lots of fun Making Santa’s Naughty List!

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How did Mistletoe come to mean a kiss?

Although many sources say that kissing under the mistletoe is an English custom, there's another explanation for its origin. In Norse mythology there is a story of a loving, if overprotective, mother.

Frigga was mother to the Norse god Balder, the best loved of all the gods. Frigga was the goddess of love and beauty and she loved her son. To ensure no harm would come to him, she went through the world securing promises from everything that sprang from the four elements--fire, water, air, and earth--that they would not harm her beloved Balder.

Leave it to Loki, a mischievous spirit, to find the loophole. Mistletoe and an arrow made from its wood. To make the prank even nastier, he took the arrow to Hoder, Balder's brother, who was blind. Guiding Holder's hand, Loki directed the arrow at Balder's heart and Balder fell dead.
Frigga's tears became the mistletoe's white berries. In the version of the story with a happy ending, Balder is restored to life and Frigga is so grateful that she reverses the murderous reputation of Mistletoe, making it a symbol of love and promising to bestow a kiss upon anyone who passes under it.

So hang some mistletoe and pucker up!

Information gleaned from numerous online searches for mistletoe lore.

 Now for a naughty excerpt from the Naughty List.

T’was a week before Christmas and Mrs. Claus conspires. Proposition Jack Frost to give Santa his greatest desire…

The deviant Dominant Jack Frost can be good…very good. But for being so good at being so bad, Santa keeps him on the naughty list. What would Jack do to get on the good list? Kidnap Santa? With the help of Mrs. Claus, Jack could force Santa’s submission and give him the one thing he’s always wanted—to be on the naughty list himself. Then Jack could show Santa just how very good he can be.

Adult excerpt

Jack tugged on the black buckle of Santa’s belt. “Come into my workshop—my toy shop. We’re going to play.”

Adrenaline like molten lava, blazed through Santa. Jack’s workshop wasn’t like the brightly lit jovial environment where Santa and his elves put in their fifteen-hour shifts. His gaze darted around the spacious room in the secluded log cabin. Instead of rustic comfort, Jack’s lair was a den of iniquity. Tools for torturous pleasures lined wooden shelves along the wall. Chairs, benches and machines were situated around the room. Santa swallowed hard, the collar biting into his neck. His heart pounded. He’d seen this room many times in his magic snow globe—when he was checking to see if Jack were being naughty or nice. Santa fought to keep from glancing to the far corner, the corner hidden in shadow.

Santa slowed his breathing, tried to keep from becoming aroused, but he knew what hid in the darkened corner—a padded bench. A BDSM bed. Iron girders built the frame. An iron canopy offered fasteners for wicked delights. Straps, belts and bindings. Cuffs, chains and torturous tools. Would Jack leave him bound to the bench, keep him immobile while Jack sucked his dick, or fucked him with the machine. No, Santa wouldn’t be victim of Jack’s deviant machinations. Santa didn’t want to want in the corner, locked to the table, his ass exposed and the fucking machine ramming into him. But he did.

In the center of the room, Jack positioned Santa. “Don’t do this,” Santa begged.

“You’ll have to be more specific Santa.” Jack secured the O-ring connecting Santa’s cuffed hands to a steel chain. The chain was mounted to the ceiling. Jack tugged the chain, sliding the steel links through a pulley until Santa’s arms rose over his head.

Santa’s arms stretched high, muscles bunch and ripped and his wrists were bound together. His fingers were already numb. He relaxed his fisted hands and tried to calmly reason with Jack. “I can’t be more specific. What is all this tomfoolery?” He uselessly tugged on the chain. He was Jack’s hostage.

Jack smoothed his palms over the bunched muscles of Santa’s arms, along his shoulders and onto his chest, toying with the silken hairs on his pectorals. “There is more than one way to have fun. We’re going to play with my toys.” Jack dropped to his knees on the floor. He secured the leather cuff around Santa’s left ankle to the steel hook in the flooring. “Spread your legs, Santa.” He did. The click of the lock on his right ankle heightened his anxiety. “Now that I know you’ve accepted my invitation to stay, I can help you get more comfortable.”

“But I didn’t accept.”

Jack tsked. “You haven’t put up much of a fight.” Jack pivoted and took a long pair of shears from the worktable.

“I can’t fight you, Jack.”

Jack smiled. “I know. That’s what makes your submission all the sweeter.” Jack slid the edge of the sheer under Santa’s T-shirt. His stomach quivered with the touch of cold steel. The first snip echoed through the room. “Mrs. Claus told me what you were hiding under all this finery. I want to…well, I was going to say I want to see for myself. But I’m going to do more than look. I’m going to touch for myself.” Jack snipped the shirt from waist to neck. Each quick cut sent rousing frissons skittering through Santa.

Jack slipped the fabric over the hard ridge of Santa’s shoulder, his fingertips scoring Santa’s flesh. Santa sucked in a breath. His exposed skin shivered in the cool cabin air. His nipples beaded and yet he was hot. Sweat trickled along his spine. “What are you going to do to me?” Would Jack detect the thrill beneath the concern?

“Ah, Santa, you should know it’s better not to tell.” He tapped Santa’s cheek. “Half the fun is in the surprise.” Jack had unbuckled Santa’s belt in the sleigh. Now he slowly slid the leather from the loops. He snapped the belt. Santa jerked at the crack of the leather. His cock swelled, hard and pulsing against his groin.

Santa was in a quandary. He could not lie nor could he partake of the naughty pleasure Jack promised. “I want to return to my workshop. Christmas is only a week away.”

“Hmm. That poses a problem.” Jack took the shears in hand and slipped the blades into the waistband of Santa’s trousers. Cutting the fabric along Santa’s thigh, Jack stripped him of the last of his clothing. “You have nothing to wear.”

Naked with Jack. Anchored to the floor by his ankles, arms stretched toward the ceiling, collar and cock. Santa was at Jack’s mercy and a plea for more was on the tip of his tongue. “No,” he mumbled. He shook his head and slowly closed his eyes. This secret desire would destroy all he cherished. His role in the world gone for a chance to be ravished. “No.”

Jack snapped the belt across Santa’s exposed buttocks.

“No!” he bellowed, arching away from the sting.

“I told you no one will hear your cries.” Jack pulled his arm back then unleashed another powerful blow. The belt snapped, smiting Santa high on the buttocks. Muscles tensed. The chains pulled taut. Santa nearly bit his tongue as a blistering heat bloomed beneath his skin.

“If you continue to say no—” Jack crisscrossed the strikes with another. “I’ll be forced to gag you.” Jack heaved a breath and lowered his arm. “You should have rosy cheeks.” Jack slowly circled Santa, his hungry gaze eating him up. “Now you do.”

Santa dropped his head forward, feeling the pinch of the collar on his neck. The chains attached to his wrists held him up. His muscles burned and they’d only just begun. “Please.”

“Please what?” Jack closed his fist around Santa’s shaft. His fingers were strong as they squeezed and stroked. Santa was used to Abby’s feminine touch and her sex kitten ways—all the time craving something more. Craving Jack. Abby had known, had realized that like her, he wished for something more. But unlike Abby, he’d never had his wish.

Lust unfurled in Santa, washing over him and making him ache to be naughty. Could he? What would happen if Santa found himself on the naughty list? He was Santa after all. Who would tell?

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Don't forget to stop here every day from December 9 – 16 for another post and another chance to win! I hope you have lots of fun Making Santa’s Naughty List!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

One lucky commenter  will receive a book of choice from my backlist!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
KyAnn