The Novel Approach is pleased to welcome Ines Johnson’s The Pleasure Hound blog tour today. Enjoy the excerpt she’s shared with us, then be sure to leave a comment to enter for a chance to win an e-copy of the book.
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Chanyn grew up in isolation in the ruins of the Great Destruction. All her life she’s wanted to find her one true love. When she encounters the dashing Lord Dain, with his kind eyes and pure heart, she believes her dreams of love are finally coming true. Until she meets with the roadblock that is her betrothed’s bondmate.
In a world where men outnumber women ten to one, Khial never thought he’d have to contend with a woman entering his bond. He gave his heart to Dain when they were just boys and has been by his side every day in sickness and health. These days it’s mostly in sickness as Dain’s health deteriorates. Though his attraction to Chanyn increases with every encounter, Khial can’t help but resent the young woman who comes into his love story to play the hero, but marriage to her may be the only way to save the man he loves.
To prepare Chanyn for her union with the two males, Lord Dain hires a Pleasure Hound, an ancient order of monks tasked with instructing new husbands, who have little to no contact with women, in the art of female pleasure. Years ago a scandal left the Temple of the Pleasure Hounds near destitute. The young monk responsible for the scandal is given a chance to redeem himself and the temple when he is called upon to train the bonded triad in the orgasmic arts. What starts as a simple ritual soon turns carnal when the monk’s heart begins to yearn for Chanyn, and hers for his.
Tags: romantic erotica, mutlicultural, menage, dystopian, interracial, LGBT, bisexual
Excerpt: “It’s getting late,” Khial said. “We should retire now so that we can get started at first light.”
The girl’s face fell at those words. Her arms came around herself, though it wasn’t cold.
Dain’s face mirrored hers, his hands reached out to rub her shoulder.
Khial barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He knew what would come for him when he and Dain were alone. But Khial had already formulated a plan to distract Dain.
“All right,” the girl said. “You can use two of the Reading Rooms—”
“We only need one.” Khial met her eyes again in challenge.
She frowned slightly, but nodded.
They all rose. The girl led. Khial took a step to follow, but was hit in the gut. Dain’s tap didn’t hurt. It served as a warning for Khial to mind his manners, a lesson Khial needed frequently. Dain’s eyes narrowed on Khial. The message clear: Be nice. Khial shrugged and followed the girl.
The room she led them to had a sliding glass door and more shabby curtains with holes. The setting sun gave the room a bit of light. There was a worn mattress on the floor, with old sheets to cover it. Books lined each wall from floor to ceiling.
Khial peered at the titles. The Holy Bible. The Evolution of Physics. The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.
The last title made Khial freeze in the doorway. Dain bumped into him from behind.
“This was my mother’s room,” the girl said as she went about straightening up the already tidy room.
Khial didn’t respond, his eyes still on the book stack.
Dain squeezed past Khial and reached out a hand to the girl. “Lady Chanyn, we thank you again for your hospitality. We would not have survived this day without you.”
Khial shook himself and looked away from the familiar title. He would not let memory drag him down tonight. He had work to do. A plan to enact, to save his oldest and most trusted friend from his overused sense of charity.
“I won’t be far, if you need anything,” the girl said. She moved passed Khial without looking at him, and then was gone.
Khial gave the curtains where she exited a good tug. He set his pack down next to the bed. Turning to Dain he began unbuttoning his shirt, waiting for Dain’s first offense. It didn’t take long.
“We’re taking her with us.”
Khial didn’t answer. He freed himself of his shirt.
“The way she lives is unconscionable. A woman on her own. With no men to protect her, provide for her, or pleasure her.”
Those were the three edicts of men in their society. The only things men were allowed to do any longer.
“And you plan to do that for her?” Khial asked as he undid the clasp on his pants.
The garment fell to the ground. Dain’s gaze lingered on Khial’s barely covered package before returning his green eyes to Khial’s face. “She might be the answer to our prayers, Khi.”
Khial stepped out of his pants and strode toward Dain. “I haven’t sent up any prayers.” He began unbuttoning Dain’s shirt. “The Goddess can go fuck herself, for all I care.”
Khial pulled Dain’s opened shirt down his torso. Trapping Dain’s arms in the garment, Khial pulled Dain into his chest. “If there’s a way out of this, I will find it.”
They stood nose to nose. Lips only a breath apart. Khial’s eyes shone fiercely as he looked into Dain’s. Dain’s eyes, as they had been for too many months, dimmed in resignation. He rubbed the side of his face against Khial’s, the day old stubble rough against Khial’s cheek. Then Dain pulled away to peer into Khial’s eyes.
“You know that I trust you with my life, Khi. But I need you to trust me, too.”
Dain was the only person on the earth he trusted.
“If we can’t find what we’re looking for, she’s the next best thing we have to a solution.” Dain looked over his shoulder at the glass door where the girl had exited. “I really do believe she’s an angel sent from the Goddess.”
An angel? That got Khial’s blood boiling. What female lived out in the middle of nowhere away from society? It was unnatural. The girl had to be up to something.
“Oh, my goddess,” Dain laughed. “You’re jealous.”
Khial’s answer was to shove Dain.
Undaunted, Dain reached up and caressed Khial’s chin. “You are. It’s adorable.”
Khial slapped his hand away. Dain grabbed with the other. Khial maneuvered out of this grasp as well, but lost his footing. Dain guided them so that they both fell onto the mattress with a loud thunk. The men continued the struggle, but Dain’s laughter left him at a disadvantage, and Khial quickly gained the upper hand, pinning Dain beneath him.
Dain gazed up at him, adoration in his green eyes. He reached his free hand up and cupped Khial’s cheek, all struggle gone, his eyes turning thoughtful. “I’ve loved you for more than half my life.”
Khial flinched at the word love.
As always, Dain ignored his reaction and increased the pressure and insistence of his caress. “Do you really think it possible for me to feel for anyone else what I feel for you?”
Dain asked the question in a serious tone. His head cocked as though exploring the query from all angles. Dain never demanded that Khial say those three little words. Khial would never say them, had never said them. Would never need to.
Dain pulled Khial’s head down. Their kiss was brutal. Khial plunged his tongue into Dain’s mouth and Dain allowed the claiming. As his tongue explored the familiar crevices, Khial’s hands reached for Dain’s pants and briefs.
Dain broke away from Khial’s mouth. “How’s your leg?”
Khial quirked an eyebrow. “The little witch’s ointment relieved all the pain.”
“She’s not a witch,” Dain protested.
Khial’s hand found Dain’s dick. “Stop talking about her.”
Dain went mute as Khial’s thumb dipped into the crevice at the head of his penis. Coming away with precum, Khial circled the head round and round until Dain arched off the mattress.
Satisfied that he had his lover’s full attention, Khial scooted lower on the bed. Stopping his ministrations, Khial waited until Dain’s eyes opened to figure out what happened to the pleasure. When Dain’s eyes connected with Khial, Khial gave him a wicked grin before licking Dain’s dick from base to tip.
A shudder traveled through Dain, exploding from his mouth in a growl, just as Khial reached the tip. With Dain’s eyes hooded, but still avidly on his own, Khial planted a chaste kiss on the soft pink of Dain’s dick head. And then, without warning or preamble, Khial dropped his head, and sunk his mouth down.
AUTHOR BIO: Ines writes books for strong women who suck at love. If you rocked out to the twisted triangle of Jem, Jericha, and Rio as a girl; if you were slayed by vampires with souls alongside Buffy; if you need your scandalous fix from Olivia Pope each week, then you’ll love her books!
Aside from being a writer, professional reader, and teacher, Ines is a very bad Buddhist. She sits in sangha each week, and while others are meditating and getting their zen on, she’s contemplating how to use the teachings to strengthen her plots and character motivations.
Ines lives outside Washington, DC with her two little sidekicks who are growing up way too fast.