Today we have Amanda Young at the cyber bar. Amanda has a
vivid imagination and a passion for all the things that go bump in the night.
She writes provocative stories that push boundaries and dare readers to expand
their comfort zones.
What we are Drinking
Today we're having kinky orgasms. Who doesn't like those,
right?
A Kinky Orgasm Recipe
2 cl Bailey's® Irish cream
2 cl amaretto almond liqueur
2 cl Kahlua® coffee liqueur
milk
Pour bailey's, amaretto and
kahlua into a highball glass. Fill with milk, add strawberries or vanilla
ice-cream if desired, and serve.
Deanna: First things first. Where are you and what are you
wearing?
Amanda: Hi Deanna. Thanks so much for chatting with me
today. At the moment, I am wearing my sexiest little black pajamas behind the
desk in my home office, which is surrounded by books and horror movie
paraphernalia. (((kicks her feet up on aforementioned desk)))
Deanna: What’s your poison? Vodka? Gin? Beer?
Amanda: I'm in the mood for some kahlua today, so I chose a
sweet treat for our refreshment. They're pretty tasty.
Deanna: (((pours them both a round))) Cheers! Now that we’re
comfy, tell me about your new book? (((sips on her cocktail)))
Amanda: (((takes a drink))) Yum. Thanks! My newest release
is titled Recession. It's the second book in my Chicken Ranch series, which
revolves around the men employed at a gay brothel in rural Virginia.
Deanna: Where did the idea for this story come from?
Amanda: Recession's plot came from a simple round of what if. I was brainstorming reasons for
why a man might get involved in prostitution and Garrett's story popped into my
head. Garrett was a small town boy working in the construction industry, living
from paycheck to paycheck, and doing the best he could to support his younger
brother. When the economy tanked, he
lost his job and started turning tricks to make ends meet. From there, the rest
of Recession practically wrote itself.
Deanna: What was the hardest part of writing this story for
you?
Amanda: The hardest part of writing Recession was
maintaining a good balance of sympathy and revulsion of prostitution for
Miller, Garrett's love interest. I wanted him to empathize with Garrett's financial plight and the lengths Garrett had
gone to in order to keep a roof over his brother's head, but, at the same time,
I wanted Miller to despise the job itself.
Deanna: (((pours them another round))) Boy, these things are
tasty!! Now, what’s the easiest thing about writing your book?
Amanda: Mmm...They are good aren't they? (((takes a big
drink))) The easiest parts of Recession to write were the sex scenes. I love
writing about the passionate happenings between two people in love.
Deanna: Are you a plotter or a panster?
Amanda: I'm a little of both. I do minor plotting beforehand
and then let the characters guide me where they want to go. Sometimes it works
well and sometimes it doesn't. The system works best for me. I've found that I
get bored when I overly map out a story and there's no mystery left.
Deanna: How long have you been writing?
Amanda: I've been writing for around fifteen years. I didn't
start writing with the intent to publish until 2005 though. Submitting that
first story was the best decision I ever made.
Deanna: Do you ever have writers block? On those occasions
that I do, I usually have a cocktail … or three…LOL But that’s just me.
Amanda: I have definitely had a lack of enthusiasm for writing
from time to time, but I've found that it's usually more project related than
any kind of block. When I get stuck, really stuck, it's usually time to scrap
my work in progress and move on to something else.
Deanna: Most of my stories have a theme song, do you do that
for your characters?? If so what is it?
Amanda: Recession didn't really get a soundtrack. I started
writing it when my daughter was about six months old and silence was golden.
Deanna: Tell us about a scene that you have written then afterwards,
when you read it, you shocked yourself? You know I want a dirty answer (((hint
hint)))
Amanda: I wrote my first orgy scene for Recession. I wasn't
exactly shocked; that would take quite a lot these days. (((laughs))) It's
definitely a scene outside of my usual norm though. How about I share a peek?
Blurb:
Garrett has fallen on tough times.
Once a construction worker, he now depends on the desires of others to feed his
little brother and keep a roof over their heads. As one of the many rent boys at
Chicken Ranch, Garrett lives in constant fear, torn between making enough money
to survive and getting busted for doing something illegal and immoral to pay
the bills.
Miller is a workaholic with a chip on his shoulder. It isn't until his beloved Grandma passes away that Miller dares to temporarily return home to the town he despises. Once there, he faces a surprise inheritance that causes more problems than solutions and the man he left behind to pursue his dreams.
Their reunion comes with an abundance of complications and old feelings. Bitterness and anger swiftly turn into desire and a rekindled love that threatens more than their hearts. Things take a turn for the worst when Miller provokes a threat to Garrett's custody of his little brother. Having already lost Garrett to familial obligations once, Miller fears they're doomed to repeat the past, only this time Garrett will be the one who'll walk away.
Miller is a workaholic with a chip on his shoulder. It isn't until his beloved Grandma passes away that Miller dares to temporarily return home to the town he despises. Once there, he faces a surprise inheritance that causes more problems than solutions and the man he left behind to pursue his dreams.
Their reunion comes with an abundance of complications and old feelings. Bitterness and anger swiftly turn into desire and a rekindled love that threatens more than their hearts. Things take a turn for the worst when Miller provokes a threat to Garrett's custody of his little brother. Having already lost Garrett to familial obligations once, Miller fears they're doomed to repeat the past, only this time Garrett will be the one who'll walk away.
Excerpt:
Chicken Ranch:
Recession
by Amanda Young
After a short chat about recompense and a fast pass by the
cashier’s office, the boring accountant on Garrett’s arm turned into a handsy
octopus. Garrett held onto his sense of humor as he was pushed against one wall
and then another, licked from sternum to belly button, and groped everywhere the
short man could reach. Garrett didn’t feel out of his element until he found
himself being dragged toward the back of the house and the VIP room that had
been given a quick and dirty remodel earlier that morning. Joining what was
sure to be an orgy by now wasn’t something he’d normally participate in, but an
assignment was an assignment, and he’d already been paid for his services.
There was no backing out. The only thing that kept him moving was the knowledge
that he only had to perform for one man. That alone went a long way toward
soothing his worries. Private parties or even the occasional threesome was
tolerable, but group events gave him the heebie-jeebies. He was not a
pincushion and had no interest in numerous cocks poking all his various holes.
Sometimes more was not better.
Garrett followed Terry—or was it Jerry?—into the VIP room.
Garrett thought he knew what to expect. After all, he’d helped move the three
king-size mattresses and box springs into the room and arranged them on plain
frames set against the rear wall. He’d seen the matching red sheets go on the
mattresses to make it appear as if there was one big-ass bed spanning the
length of the room. He’d carried in floor pillows and body pillows in all
shapes and sizes and clustered them around low-lying tables topped with erotic
party favors and the standard necessities for a long night of excess. What he
hadn’t counted on was how different the area would look after so many people
crowded inside. His eyes felt as big as saucers as his gaze bounced from one
copulating couple to another and another and another. The scene was like
something out of a porno, only it was all happening right in front of him.
Sweat and sex permeated every inhalation, and someone must have cranked up the
thermostat because heat rolled through the room in waves.
Terry groaned, one of his grabby hands rubbing over the
crotch of his pleated slacks. “Oh God. This is hot. We have to get naked. You
need to fuck me. Like now. Right now.”
“Your wish is my command.” Garrett swallowed an amused
laugh, not wanting to offend the man at his side, and took charge of the
situation. He scouted the room and spotted a clear section off to one side.
“This way.”
He led his client to an unoccupied section of the floor off
to the right. He dropped down to his knees on one of the plush, bloodred
pillows and set to work removing Terry’s pants. He eased the slacks and the
black briefs beneath down firm thighs dusted with nearly colorless blond hair.
Terry rid himself of the light blue shirt while Garrett was busy appreciating
what he’d uncovered. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against the soft
flesh under Terry’s cute little outie belly button. The gentle touch earned a
shiver, making Garrett wonder just how little this man must have been touched
if something so light provoked such a response. Not that it was any of his
business really. He was hired to provide a certain service, not to act as an
armchair therapist.
Garrett set to work earning his pay. In short order, he had
his john naked and crouching on all fours atop a long, wide pillow. He grabbed
the lube and condoms off the table and used the slick substance and his fingers
to stretch and prepare while his mind roamed. His body was in the game, each
move calculated and performed by rote, though he thought about everything from
the men fucking around them to the errands he needed to run when he returned
home. Only when his john was sufficiently stretched and pushing into every
plunge of his fingers did Garrett ease back and get himself ready for action.
He grabbed a rubber and suited up. Once he was protected, he slicked his shaft
with some extra lube, aimed for the shiny brown starfish winking at him, and
slid home with little fanfare.
A guttural moan spilled from the john, and he bucked
backward against Garrett. “Oh, fuck yes. Throw it to me. That’s what I need.”
Garrett fought not to roll his eyes. Apparently the staid
little accountant liked dirty talk. “Consider it thrown. I’m going to tear your
ass up.”
A litany of filth spewed from the john’s mouth as Garrett
rammed into him over and over again, giving his client exactly what he wanted.
The hot, tight clenching around his shaft and the force of his thrusts would
have made him shoot way too soon if he hadn’t already gotten off with a couple
of his johns earlier in the night.
As he continued to power into his john, he glanced around
him, his gaze moving from one scene to the next. He stopped on the trio on the
bed and watched as the couple who were spit roasting Ethan between them leaned
in and kissed over his back. A pang of longing shot through Garrett. It wasn’t
so much the sex—although that was pretty damn hot—but it was the way the couple
stretched to reach each other and kiss as though their happiness depended on it
that got to Garrett.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had reached out
to him with that much need. Men came to him to get laid. Before he’d started
working at Chicken Ranch, he’d hooked up at the club on the rare occasion he
had the night to himself and the energy to bother. There had never been time or
money for serious dating. Not that there had been anyone who’d sparked his
interest. Not since high school and Miller Jacobs. They might have been young,
but they’d had something real for a while. Life had just gotten in the way.
Garrett tightened his grip on his john’s hips and used them
as leverage to power forward, repeatedly burying his hard length as roughly as
he dared without risking his load. He was hoping to get his client off without
having to shoot himself. He didn’t think he had much more in him, and it was
too damn early in the night to be out of the game. There was more money and
more sex to be had before the night was through. Oh hell, who was he kidding?
It was mainly the money he was interested in. Even though he’d only been at
this job for a few months, fucking on command was already becoming tedious. It
wasn’t that all the men he’d tricked with were hideous. Far from it. Some were
attractive enough to make him wonder what the hell they were doing in a
whorehouse when they could clearly snap their fingers and get a piece of ass
from whomever they wanted for free. However, even if being paid to get naked
stroked his confidence in the beginning, the ego boost had faded after being
pawed and slobbered all over like a prime side of beef for a few weekends in a
row.
Getting off felt damn good—there was no denying that—but an
orgasm was cold comfort. His physical needs were met, usually exceeded if truth
be told, but his soul was as untouched and barren as the Sahara.
Garrett altered his aim, putting a little more pressure on
the upthrust in the hopes of an extra long ping to his partner’s sweet spot.
“Like that?”
A ragged groan was the john’s only reply, but it was enough.
At least Garrett was doing something right. He kept up the pace and forged
ahead, determined to ignore the slick grip around his shaft.
His thoughts turned back to his high school sweetheart. He
hadn’t allowed himself to think about Miller in a while, but Garrett sometimes
wondered what he was doing now. Was he single? Did he have someone to come home
to after a long day? The last he’d heard, Miller was working for some fancy ad
agency in Washington, DC. The man’s grandma had bragged about his
accomplishments when Garrett had gone over to her place to do a little handyman
work earlier in the year. At the time, he’d listened with half an ear, silently
begging her to stop talking. Part of him wished he’d asked for more details,
while the rest of him felt the information was the emotional equivalent of
pouring salt on a slug.
A vivid recollection of the last night he’d spent with
Miller before everything blew up in their faces played through Garrett’s mind
like a 3-D movie. Without conscious thought, his thrusts picked up speed. He
swiveled his hips, grinding his dick into the man beneath him, and squeezed his
eyes shut, picturing Miller’s face, those clear blue eyes staring up at him in
rapture, and felt a bone-deep ache reverberate inside him.
He reopened his eyes, glanced at the debauchery around him,
and then returned his attention to where it belonged—to the man under him, the
man who was paying for the pleasure of his company. All thoughts of the past
and future would have to be put on hold until his present obligations were met.
Recession is available at Loose Id
and all major retailers.
Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/q9654wo
All Romance Ebooks: http://tinyurl.com/mxmpb55
