Welcome to the abbreviated Newsletter page for Rachel Bo's Passion in Print!
Here, I offer you a tantalizing taste of my monthly newsletter, Passion in Print. To view the full issue, please click on this LINK
EXCERPTS FROM NOVEMBER, 2007 PASSION IN PRINT NEWSLETTER:
~~* Table of Contents *~~
I. Introduction and Welcome
II. Items of Interest
III. And the Winner is...
IV. A Taste of Decadence
VII. Releases and Reviews
VIII. Works in Progress
IX. Subscribers-only Serial Novel:
Parts 1 & 2 of the NEW subscribers-only Serial
Novel, MERCHANT’S BOUNTY by Rachel Bo.
X. End Notes
~~* I. Introduction and Welcome *~~
Welcome to Volume IV, Issue #1 of Passion in Print, the newsletter of erotic romance author Rachel Bo. Thank you for joining me in a world where sensual romance is the rule of the day, and fantasies do come true. Each issue will be packed with HOT excerpts, contest info, a special food and fun column, winner announcements and more!
~~* IV. A Taste of Decadence *~~
The ancient Persians believed that onions and eggs, when consumed together, increased both stamina, frequency of orgasm, and sexual desire. In honor of this, I present to you …
Rachel’s “Get Sex’d” Omelet
½ a medium onion, coarsely diced
4 large eggs
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
½ teaspoon paprika
1 teaspoon butter
½ cup shredded cheddar
Last night, the kids spent the night at Grandma’s, and you and your partner had wild and kinky sex for hours! This morning, the fantasy continues, as you both make your way, naked, into the kitchen. Your partner helps you put on your apron (don’t want to splatter anything hot on your tender naked flesh, now!), letting his or her (or THEIR <grin>) fingers graze your nipples, then tickle your lower back as they tie the strings, then caress the curves of your round cheeks.
You first chop the onion, your hand moving faster as your partner slides his between your legs. You part your thighs, sighing a little as his fingers find your slit, slipping inside, where they belong.
Chop until orgasm has been reached. <G>
Break the 4 large eggs into a medium bowl. Add salt, black pepper, and paprika. Take out a metal whisk. Allow your significant other to slip it under your apron, teasing your taut nipples, running them between the tines…
In a medium skillet on medium heat, melt the butter. Sautee onions to desired doneness (I like mine a little crisp, but you can cook them until soft if preferred), then remove onions from skillet and set aside. Whip the egg mixture vigorously with the whisk until frothy. Pour into skillet. When edges of mixture are cooked gently, begin to pull in toward the middle of the skillet with your spatula, letting the uncooked egg run down behind it. Do this several times as the eggs cook.
When there is just a bit of liquid egg left, sprinkle the onions onto the omelet. Using spatula, lift one side of the omelet and peek. When the omelet is cooked to where there are occasional spots of golden brown, fold it in half. Sprinkle the cheese on top and cook a minute longer. Remove and place on a single platter. Join your partner at the table and take turns feeding each other this “potent mixture” until you just can’t wait any longer and have to put your hands on each other!
HOT TIP OF THE MONTH:
Make arrangements for the kids, if you have kids, and then try this -
Purchase an inexpensive set of white sheets (or use ones you already have, if available). Shortly before your significant other is due home (or due to your place for a date), place a bottle of your favorite red wine on ice - I don’t have an ice bucket, so I just fill my large mixing bowl and use that. Wash 2 or three branches of grapes and place in the middle of a large platter. Lightly butter and toast a few slices of French bread in the oven and arrange in a half circle around the grapes. Slice your favorite cheeses and finish out the circle around the grapes. In the bedroom, strip naked and wrap one of the sheets around you, toga-style. Toss pillows on your living room floor (or sofa cushions, whatever!). When your S.O. arrives, greet them at the door in your toga, and present them with the other sheet. Explain that tonight, you will dine like the Romans did. He or she must strip and wrap themselves toga-style. Then join each other, reclining Roman-style on the pillows, feeding each other wine, cheese, bread, and grapes, maybe occasionally letting a glimpse of your naked hip or leg or … whatever … show. By the time your appetite for food is satisfied, other appetites should be “rising” to the occasion …
~~* V. Contests *~~
NOTE: THIS CONTEST IS ALREADY OVER - THIS IS ONLY AN EXCERPT FROM A
The November 2007 NEWSLETTER CONTEST begins today!
Enter now for your chance to win a free download of ONE of the following titles -
REDISCOVERY by Rachel Bo
WOLFBOUND: UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY by Rachel Bo
VETERANS: RISEN FROM ASH by Rachel Bo
And there are three PRINT titles up for grabs:
The SIN 2 & 3 Print Omnibus including DANGER IN DISCOVERY and BRANDED by Rachel Bo
The RATED: X-MAS Anthology, with stories by Rachel Bo, Barbara Karmazin & Jet Mykles
SYMPHONY IN RAPTURE by Rachel Bo
~~* IX. SERIAL NOVEL *~~
And here’s your new MEMBERS-ONLY Serial Novel - MERCHANT’S BOUNTY!
by Rachel Bo
Copyright 2006 - all rights reserved.
Here’s Installment 1 once more:
Genna woke to the blare of alarms, the scent of seared metal, and muted red emergency lighting. Quick as a thought, she flipped out of her bunk and rolled beneath it, slapping her hand against the metal panel that was the wall. A narrow section, close to the floor, whispered aside at the touch and she slid on her back into the cramped space behind.
The panel automatically slid closed beside her. Panic constricted her throat as the safe-hole cocooned her like a coffin, but then a faint waft of air tickled her face. She relaxed. The emergency circulators worked, and the fresh air made the coffin-like space seem a little bigger. She sighed. At least she wouldn’t suffocate.
Thank Omni for the attack drills. Pirate activity ran rampant in this quadrant of space. Of course, the fact that the hidey-holes worked and she’d made it into one didn’t exactly guarantee survival…
Beyond the wall, she heard muffled shouting. Clangs. The scent of slagged metal invaded her hidden refuge. She bit back a cough, forced herself to breathe slowly - in through her nose, out through her mouth - to minimize her exposure to the irritant.
After what seemed like hours - and might have been, she really had no idea - the noise and clamor faded. Genna tensed, straining her ears, staring into the darkness above her, willing the green strip of lighting that signaled the all-clear to blaze into life.
No such luck. Did that mean the pirates had won? She closed her eyes, sending a voiceless prayer to the Omniscience. Formless, too, that prayer. A jumbled rush of fear, hope, and desperation … a silent emotional plea without specifics, because she couldn’t seem to think what to pray for.
If the pirates found her, depending on their clan, she might be killed instantly, or conscripted and drugged up with Rebel-ease - a substance that had been banned by the Unity of Sentients but which continued to be distilled and distributed by a greedy black market - becoming an unthinking, unfeeling automaton performing menial tasks on some Omni-forsaken rust-bucket of a freighter. Barely alive, really. Or...she might be forced to become a Gladiator, to fight in power domes on the illegal pleasure-planets, in which case they might as well kill her now, as she’d always been a scientist, never a warrior.
And then there was the possibility of becoming a fem-toy…
A sharp rapping on the panel beside her nearly stopped her heart. Her tongue darted between her lips, and she licked them nervously, then worried at a piece of loose skin with her teeth as she fought to keep from drawing even a whisper of breath. The opening was coded to respond only to HER palm-print. If she only remained quiet --
“We know you’re in there, fem. Coming out? Or do I slag you?”
*Fem.* Shit-on-a-star - they WERE fem-merchants!
Genna hesitated until she heard the tell-tale, high-pitched whine of a parser charging. Alarmed, she slapped her hand against the wall. The metal hiding her slid aside, and she stared into the sharp, assessing gaze of a fem-merchant.
He’d retracted her bunk, and squatted only a foot away, his green eyes bright with triumph. A snorter nuzzled her arm, lips at the end of his long, flexible snout tasting her skin. Crying out in disgust, she slapped it away.
The man grinned. “Slide on out, sweetie. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
Taking a deep breath, willing herself not to tremble, or show any other sign of weakness to this barbarian, she scooted out of the alcove. The merchant stood, jerking the tip of his gun to indicate that she should do the same.
Genna rose, and his sharp-eyed gaze raked along her body, head to toe, quickly assessing. Another invasion, longer this time, his eyes moving slowly, savoring every dip and curve. Heat blossomed in her cheeks, and Genna cursed at herself silently. Embarrassment - a sign of weakness.
And one, of course, that those sharp eyes didn’t miss. His gaze rested on her face, her red cheeks. His eyes narrowed.
Sudden pressure in her head. Genna gasped. *Omni, no!* She tried to fight him, pushing against his psychic touch, but his shield was too strong. Her thoughts faded, grayed, as his mind melded with hers. For a few brief seconds, she saw herself through his eyes - flushed, rounded in all the right places, a belly that would make a nice pillow … she felt a tightening sensation in her abdomen, realized that no, that wasn’t her, that was him, his *cock*! Abruptly, the grey haze vanished, and a slow smile spread across his countenance. A rugged, handsome visage that, in other circumstances, she would have found irresistibly attractive.
*Shit-on-a-star! A psion. The pirate was a freakin’ psion!*
“Oy, my beauty.” He stepped forward and cupped her cheek in his hand. “You’ve a generous body. I like that.” His fingers followed the line of her jaw, drifting down to pause at the artery in her neck, feeling the frantic pulse, then tracing the curve of one generous breast. The tips of those fingers pinched her nipples playfully through the unisuit as he leaned forward and breathed in her ear, “I think I’ll call you ... ‘Bounty’.”
She did tremble then, and the curse of it was that fear was so small a part of that response…
OF COURSE, as stated above, this is a SUBSCRIBERS-ONLY free novel, released in installments in the Passion in Print Newsletter each month, so in
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All Material Copyright 2003 - 2008 - Rachel Bo. All Rights Reserved.