Let’s Talk About Tickling by Veronica Frances

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Let’s Talk About Tickling Blog Tour

 

About the Author

Veronica FrancesVeronica Frances is the author of the gutsy, no-holds-barred novel, Tickling Daphne H. Her new non-fiction book Let’s Talk About Tickling sheds a refreshing new light on the subject. She is known as the TickleWriter in some circles.

Veronica also writes under her real name, Stacey Handler. Stacey is the author of The Body Burden; Living In The Shadow Of Barbie. Her book was featured in Jump Magazine, Australian Women’s Weekly, The National Enquirer, and several other publications, radio shows and cable TV shows.

Stacey excels at public speaking, singing, composing, and writing. She is a singer-songwriter, poet, and has written in many different styles. She has an album and several singles available, including her two popular anthems, Ain’t No Skinny Little Thing and Soap Opera Diva.

She lives in New York City, where she continues to write erotica, fiction, poetry and non-fiction.

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About the Book:

Let's Talk About TicklingTitle: Let’s Talk About Tickling
Author: Veronica Frances
Publisher: Blue Note Books
Pages: 240
Genre: Non-fiction/Erotic Literature/Self Improvement
Format: Kindle

Let’s Talk About Tickling is an honest, straightforward discussion about tickling. Discover the many different aspects of tickling—the fantasies, the realities, the many paradoxes of the tickling fetish and how to come to terms with ones own sensuality.

 

A refreshing and very welcome find, Let’s Talk About Tickling is for anyone who wishes to expand their awareness of tickling and other related fetishes. This book will be of great interest to anyone who wants to get in touch with their sensual self, whether they have a tickling fetish or not.

Author Veronica Frances offers her readers the chance to improve their relationships in and out of the bedroom by shining a light on the powerful significance of tickling. She reminds us that tickling is not merely the whisper of a feather on the flesh. It is an echo that calls us from deep within, beckoning us to listen and respond.

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Book Excerpt:

Now let’s face it, tickling can be the conduit for many things.

It can make us surrender, whether we want to or not. It can be held against us if we are being interrogated by people who choose to use it to get us to talk. It can be used to reprimand us and put us back in line. It can be an unpleasant form of torture, even to the point of bringing us some slight pain. It can make us scream for mercy, buck up and down, laugh until we pee in our pants. It can humiliate us, yet make us continue laughing while in the midst of our own humiliation. It can demoralize us by forcing us to laugh and twitch against our will.

It can also make us wet in our most hidden erogenous zones. It can arouse us nearly to death. It can lead to many things and is the gateway to one of the most intimate journeys known to man.

Tickling is the magic bridge that hovers above our rivers of sexuality. Tickling is most definitely the gateway to sex.

Sometimes you won’t even know that tickling is leading you down its slippery erotic slope until you are in somebody’s arms and feeling that ticklish little poke at your libido.

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The Ringer’s Masquerade: Release Day!

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The Ringer’s Masquerade
The box set of the Ringer’s Masquerade Series
by Sarah J. Pepper

RELEASE DATE:
Thursday, July 30

TODAY!!!!

ONE LINER:
Secrets can kill. I know theirs.

They created us. But they can’t control him.

SYNOPSIS:

The Ringer’s Masquerade features all three full length novels in the series.
Devil’s Lullaby, Death’s Melody and Angel’s Requiem.
Sebastian’s world is laced with inconvenient truths; mine is saturated with sweet, beautiful lies. He promises me nothing of a happy ending. Even so, the demonic spawn with an angelic voice derails my only reason for existence, but still I can’t tear my gaze away from him. His haunting stare penetrates my very being, revealing my secrets, fears, and desires. My name rolls off his tongue, tempting me to take exactly what I hungered for. Him. My curiosity will certainly be my undoing—but then again, death is inevitable….For he reveals the Ringer’s most guarded secrets—secrets they kill to keep.

Purchase Links:

Goodreads ♦

Ringer’s Masquerade http://bit.ly/1HIPHXT

Devil’s Lullaby (#1) http://bit.ly/1fKUZHo

Death’s Melody (#2) http://bit.ly/1MW2NkI

Angel’s Requiem (#3) http://bit.ly/1LZsi7y

Amazon ♦

US http://amzn.to/1MvBRKF

UK http://amzn.to/1MW2Tc2

AU http://bit.ly/1fKVn90

CA http://amzn.to/1gpLGxv

PreOrder Individual Links

Amazon ♦

Devil’s Lullaby

US http://amzn.to/1Ov7umt

UK http://amzn.to/1Lr9aPw

AU http://bit.ly/1fjLtLl

CA http://amzn.to/1DsIi9P

Death’s Melody

US http://amzn.to/1IaQayK

UK http://amzn.to/1IsckMc

AU http://bit.ly/1IaQg9K

CA http://amzn.to/1Iscmnk

Angel’s Requiem

US http://amzn.to/1OQwx3D

UK http://amzn.to/1IaQhKX

AU http://bit.ly/1U98MH5

CA http://amzn.to/1MzD7gD

Book Trailer:

Devil’s Lullaby (Book # 1 in the Ringer’s Masquerade Series)

Death’s Melody (Book #2 in the Ringer’s Masquerade Series)

Facebook Review Party:

http://on.fb.me/1MW2yWV

 

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Shaytan: A Journey Into Evil

 

Shaytan: A Journey Into Evil Blog Tour

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David ArthurAbout the Author

 

David S. Arthur is an American novelist with a taste for international adventure and ancient history. THE KINGDOM OF KEFTIU: A MYSTERY OF THE ANCIENT WORLD was David’s first book to feature English historical sleuth, Richard Quizzenbury and his feisty wife, Emily. It is an archaeological adventure set in the Greek islands. His new novel, SHAYTAN–A JOURNEY INTO EVIL, continues the Quizzenbury Adventure series. Before focusing on fiction writing, David enjoyed a long and rewarding career as a writer, producer, and director of hundreds of film and digital video presentations, theatrical performances, concerts, and large scale audience events. David currently lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

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Shaytan 2About the Book:

 

Title: Shaytan: A Journey Into Evil
Author: David S. Arthur
Publisher: Brighton Publishing LLC
Pages: 395
Genre: Adventure/Thriller

India – 1947. In the heart of the jungle, death stalks the night. The authorities claim it is a man-eating leopard. The natives believe it is something far more terrifying—a creature that by day wears the skin of a man, but when craving human flesh becomes the demon…SHAYTAN! While on expedition to India, historical sleuth Richard Quizzenbury and his wife, Emily, suddenly find themselves on the hunt for a killer.

For his action-packed new thriller, SHAYTAN–A JOURNEY INTO EVIL, Santa Fe novelist David S. Arthur combines adventure, mysticism, and history to transport his readers into a world in which time marches to the pulse of the cosmos; where the spiritual and the supernatural merge and reality shares equal footing with illusion.

Fans of SHAYTAN–A JOURNEY INTO EVIL are already expressing excitement and fascination for the new book, among them Tom Wright, prominent American film and television director (NCIS, Supernatural, Castle). “Man you really get into it! The cobra scene scared the @#$% out of me. This is Spielberg on steroids.”

Seeking relief from the devastation of post-war Britain, Richard and Emily Quizzenbury embark on a tour of India. They plan to initially spend a week in Bombay with Richard’s old Oxford chum, Victor Bloodworth, after which they will satisfy their appetite for adventure by exploring historical sites throughout the Indian subcontinent.

On their first night in Bombay, Victor informs the Quizzenburys that he has been asked to undertake the hunt for a man-eating leopard that has been terrorizing the inhabitants in a remote
area of the Indian Central Provinces. Victor is the illegitimate son of a wealthy Englishman, now deceased, who was by trade a legendary big game hunter. While Victor has long since rejected his father’s brutal profession, he is himself a skilled hunter and reveals his intent to help the people who are being threatened by the leopard. Although the villagers of the region believe the man-eater is a demon that they call Shaytan, Victor is convinced the leopard is actually being forced to prey on humans due to injury or old age. He wants to capture the animal alive and relocate it to a zoo for scientific study.

Quite unexpectedly, Victor invites the Quizzenburys to accompany him on the hunt, explaining that his uncle and spiritual mentor, Ashok Kahn of the Forest Guard, will join them as an expert Shikari guide. The Quizzenburys reluctantly agree, hoping Victor will be able to capture the beast as quickly as he anticipates, so they can be free to pursue their travels. However, the hunt for the leopard soon escalates into a terrifying struggle for survival during which many innocent lives are lost, as the hunters – and the Quizzenburys – become the hunted.

 

Shaytan is far more than just a jungle adventure,” Arthur insists. “It is about the ageless conflict between good and evil, the ruthless march of empires, the rise of the world’s great religions, the discovery of the New World, the laying of this century’s geo-political foundations, and the establishment of hostilities that are today’s headlines. And India was the epicenter of it all.”

 

According to Arthur, for Richard Quizzenbury – who is never without his books – the expedition becomes a quest for truth, which is his passion – the truth about history and religion and science – the truth behind our darkest nature as a species and our most primal fears and beliefs.

 

“For Victor it is far more personal,” Arthur explains. “Victor is half English, half Indian – with a Hindu background. He is haunted by the memory of his mother’s murder when he was a child, his father’s apathy toward him growing up, his bi-racial heritage and his uncertainty about his faith. His Uncle Ashok’s presence brings these conflicts to the fore. Through their daily prayers and rituals invoking the ancient gods to guide and assist them, Victor’s search for personal redemption transcends the hunt; plunging him into the arcane realm of Vedic (Hindu) mysticism, in which the Hindu deities play a deciding hand in his life or death battle against the beast.

As a writer, Arthur enjoys peeling back the layers of history, digging up the past, searching for answers to ancient riddles. “My intention is to entertain by taking my readers to exotic places they may never go and revealing things they might never know. In short, I write for the thrill of discovery, and I want my readers to share that experience.”

 

Book Review:

An interesting Adventure/Thriller. A story of evil vs good and so much more. Set against the backdrop of a British  India jungle.Written in journal entries in first person. Each entry is told through the characters  perception.  A journey  into the unknown turns in a adventure with many facets. Thought-provoking  with thrills and chills galore. This title may not be for everyone, but I find it to be interesting  and thought-provoking. A unique  tale with engaging  characters and a unique  storyline.  An interesting  read, which required much research,  which clearly  shows in the author’s writing.  A unique  story! Definitely  a journey into evil.
*Received for an honest review from the publisher *
**Will be cross-posted on My Book Addiction and More **
Rating:4
Heat rating: Mild
Reviewed by: AprilR, courtesy of My Book Addiction and More

For More Information

  • Shaytan: A Journey Into Evil is available at Amazon.
  • Pick up your copy at Barnes & Noble.
  • Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.

Book Excerpt:

I am at present in hospital at Timarni Station in the Harda District of the Indian Central Provinces. I am recovering from certain unexplained maladies sustained during our hunting expedition to Gohatti Village and neighboring jungle environs. Although physically weakened, thankfully I have suffered no permanent damage. I am in sound condition and my mental faculties are now fully restored.

During the five weeks I pursued the Gohatti man-eater, six innocent victims met their fate in the jaws of this killer, including my own dear uncle, Ashok Kahn of the Central Provinces Forest Guard. There are those who may argue that my contest with this leopard was a battle between the forces of good and evil. Many have called this beast Shaytan, meaning demon. However, there is nothing to imply the Gohatti man-eater was anything other than a jungle beast doing its best to survive. Why it had developed a preference for human flesh, we shall probably never know.

The evening of my confrontation with the man-eater, I was seated motionless in the forest near a village called Nandwa, with my back against the base of a giant teakwood tree, waiting for the leopard. In front of me was a freshwater pool surrounded by a mature bamboo grove. Thorn barriers had been constructed around me, offering some scant protection. Above me in the tree on a machan, Richard Quizzenbury, my hunting companion, was guarding my back.

We sat patiently while the sun faded and the stars emerged one by one, glistening through the treetops. Algol the Demon Star was just appearing over the mountains and the moon was barely a crescent. Save for this and the light of the stars, we were soon surrounded by complete and utter darkness. My ears were to be my only defense. Should the man-eater come—and I had no doubt that it would come—its attack would be instant and unexpected—as would be my death if my attention flagged. While waiting and listening for the arrival of my adversary, I repeated a charm often recited by my uncle. From all that flies, from all that crawls, from all that prowls the mountain, oh night, protect us.

From all that crawls, indeed. From all that slithers.

I heard the great snake well before I felt its horrible weight against my leg. By the extent of its glide, I had a sense of its length; by the rustle of its passage, an appreciation for its girth. To my horror, I realized that the King of Cobras had come calling. All of my plans suddenly came undone. In my strategy to kill the leopard, I feared that my greatest vulnerability would be the loss of hearing due to wind or rain. Now the very unmistakable sound of the enormous reptile’s approach sent a shudder through every muscle in my body.

The cautious touch of its muzzle against my thigh brought a nearly overwhelming urge to recoil, but I knew the slightest twitch would bring certain and agonizing death. In each hand, I gripped the stock of a rifle. Under such circumstances, they were useless. Cobras hunt by sense of smell, and I had no doubt it could detect my scent; even more so, my fear. While I sat rigid with terror, it probed the space between my legs with its deadly snout, working methodically closer and closer to my groin, inching its heavy body back and forth across my legs with each sweep of its venomous head. I imagined its tongue lapping the air, sampling the sweet smell of its prey and perhaps wondering what manner of creature it had ensnared in its deadly strike zone. I was not something cold and scaled; not some smaller serpent, its habitual feast. I was something much larger and warmer, exuding a peculiar odor from every pore, saturating myself with an alien scent to which the terrible viper was unaccustomed.

At my waist, the cobra suddenly reared upright, its head rising well above me in the moonlight. The great hood was fanned as wide as my two hands. Sensing danger, it opened its mouth and hissed, emitting a foul stench past its lethal fangs. I clenched my eyes, anticipating the spray of its venom, enough to kill a man. But it did not spray, and I braced for the bite. But the bite did not come. I could hear its breathing close before me, slow and purposeful, calming like a mantra.

Breathing in and breathing out. Just like a mantra.

And our breathing became as one, the cobra and I. Breathing in together. Breathing out together. Together we invoked the rhythm that is the vibration of all living things, the perpetual mantra of existence, the breath of the cosmos—the supreme resonance of the Om.

And I concentrated on the Om in order to steel myself. Om, the absolute reality—without beginning without end. Adi Anadi. Embracing all that is. Beyond limit, undeniable, transcendental, indestructible, the wholeness of eternity, the echo of the Brahman.

I opened my eyes to find the terrible reptile looming over me, watching, breathing, swaying side to side, to and fro, hypnotically, its majestic hood expanding and contracting in perfect tempo with our breathing, no longer threatened, no longer threatening. Above its broad head hung the crescent moon, haloing its royal crown with an unearthly aura, casting its shadow full across me. And I prayed to the gods, an ancient charm.

Let not the serpent slay me, O Gods. Reverence be paid to the demon brood! I close together fangs with fang, I close together jaws with jaw. I close together tongue with tongue, I close together mouth with mouth.

Whether or not in answer to my invocation, slowly, imperceptibly, the viper leaned forward, and I prepared myself for the sting. But it did not sting. Rather to my absolute and indescribable horror, it wrapped itself slowly around my neck, not once but three times. Like the serpent on the shoulders of Lord Shiva, it came to rest with its weight full upon me. Its head was erect next to mine, just beside my cheek. I could hear it breathing, and I breathed with it.

Bound in those dreadful coils, I was gripped by the certainty of Samsara, of the soul traveling from one lifetime to the next. Like a man whose death has already come, I felt myself released from my physical bonds into a realm where heaven and earth, reality and nonreality, flowed without form or substance in a never-ending stream of unconscious awareness. Then I whispered the Shiva mantra, Maha Mrityunjaya, the call for deliverance.

O praise to the Three-Eyed One, who increases prosperity, who has a sweet fragrance, who frees the world from all disease and death—liberate me, as the cucumber is easily severed from the vine. O Shiva, grant me immortality!

And I thought of the amulet around my neck—not the bauble given me by a sadhu mystic, but the scaled one, Vasuki the lord of serpents, wound thereabout three times, breathing in my ear, poised to strike its deadly blow; and I heard the words for protection the sadhu had offered me.

Upon the strong is bound the strong, this magic cord, this amulet. This charm, foe-slayer, served by many heroes, strong, powerful, victorious, and mighty, goes bravely forth to meet and ruin witchcraft.

Again, I smelled the breath of the serpent king. I felt a sharp prick upon my cheek, and I sensed its departure from around my neck. And I watched in a daze, as my vision grew dim.

Then, in the void, two red eyes appeared, as red as flame, eyes like fire. And I heard the roaring of the beast, and I fired my guns.

This is what I remember of that night when I stared into the eyes of death. Of these things I can be certain—of these things only.

Maya’s web of illusions is still spinning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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