New release from Changeling Press and a new raffle!

New release:  Hooked Up, part of the Earth Con series from Changeling Press, in which aliens take advantage of a popular convention to mix in with Earthers.

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2474

For years, Mora has studied the ancient art of sex in the literature and history of her planet, Vesta. Now she's been assigned to visit Earth to discover, hands-on, how sex is performed so she can re-teach the pleasures of the flesh to her people. Unfortunately, she's been paired with an aristocratic prig who prides himself on tight control of his emotions and denial of any sensual pleasure. Thank the Universe he's a handsome devil, or the job would be impossible.

Laer has spent his life in pursuit of the intellectual over the carnal. Unfortunately, he scores high on Mora's so-called tests of sensuality. Now he's been assigned to a mission to Earth to study how to give and receive sexual pleasure. Watching a pair of Earthers make love opens up a new reality for him, but what follows between him and Mora in the bedroom steals not only his dignity but his heart.

If you'd like to be added to my newsletter and be entered to win these wrist warmers, use the form at right.  Thanks.

And now for an excerpt:

Chapter One

An exquisitely sensitive and crucial mission, and Mora’s home planet had assigned her a stiff-backed, high-born, coldly intellectual, self-satisfied prig of a partner to complete it. At least, he looked good, which would be a benefit. Her job, after all, was to teach the man how to enjoy sex.

Laer Mi-Artes Yar DoCardi, Scion of the First House stared around him at all the Earthers and their colorful costumes in obvious disapproval. He’d deny was doing it, of course. Contempt was an emotion, after all, and he held those in… well… contempt. She’d have to help him get over his aversion because sex was something Earthers understood, and whether he liked it or not, Earthers would be their teachers.

The gathering called EarthCon attracted an odd bunch of the planet’s inhabitants -- people who liked to dress up in costumes and impersonate characters from their popular fiction. Luckily, those characters were largely beings Earthers referred to as “aliens,” as if coming from this small, insignificant planet qualified one as normal and everyone else in the Universe as other. Still, the premise of the conference suited Vesta’s needs as Vestans could pass easily among the attendees despite the Vestans’ sixth finger on each hand and the color of their skin, which an Earther would describe as “aquamarine.”

Mora watched Laer as they walked among the crowd in the main exhibition hall. Haughty to the extreme -- a trait considered a virtue among Vesta’s ruling class -- Laer could ruin the mission by rejecting any kind of involvement with the participants at the conference. She’d have to remind him again and again, if need be, about the importance of the task before them and how his cooperation was mandatory.

“This entire endeavor is ridiculous,” he muttered. “I don’t know why I have to mingle with this great horde of the unwashed.”

“It seems to me they’re very well washed, indeed. There’s a shower in every hotel room.” The idea of bathing in water had taken some adjustment, but after a few tries, slicking oneself with soap and splashing it off had become quite pleasurable. Especially in the huge sunken tub in their luxury room. Another sensual experience to introduce to their home planet. Along with the obvious they’d come here to explore -- copulation. She’d have to overcome a great deal of resistance in that regard with Laer.

“What’s the one over there supposed to be?” Laer said, pointing a long finger in the direction of an Earther dressed in little more than strategically placed feathers.

Mora grabbed his hand. “It isn’t polite to point.”

He lifted an aristocratic brow. “It’s a simple enough question.”

Mora regarded the Earther. They’d both studied the various personalities of the local mythology, but this one had her stumped. “I don’t know. Some kind of bird-creature perhaps.”

The bird-creature in question had spotted them, and instead of taking offense at Laer’s pointing at her, appeared to view it as an invitation to approach. She sauntered over and gazed up at Laer from under feathered eyelashes. “Hey, you’re kind of cute.”

Mora held her breath waiting for his reaction. Luckily, he responded out of his training, not his natural inclination to bluntly order the woman out of his sight. He did nothing. He might have straightened a bit. At his considerable height, it was hard to tell.

“That’s a neat costume.” The Earther took his hand and studied his fingers. “Do all of these work?”

In answer, he clenched his hand into a fist around the Earther’s. Clenched his jaw, too. He probably wouldn’t tolerate too much more contact.

“Ooooh,” the Earther said. “Must be fun in bed.”

Mora reached over and gently removed Laer’s hand from the Earther’s. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Yours, too, I’m sure.” The Earther looked Laer over from top to bottom. “He has big hands and feet. Nice.”

The implication came through -- he’d be well-endowed sexually. A quaint superstition among these people. Laer obviously took its meaning because he glared at Mora, asking without words how much of this familiarity he was required to tolerate.

“My friends and I are having a special kind of party in my suite,” the bird-creature said. “Adult fun, if you know what I mean.”

“That sounds intriguing,” Mora said.

“You could come, too.” The bird-creature batted her eyelashes at Laer again. “Suite 650. Seven pm.”

Laer managed to maintain his composure, but Mora knew him well enough now to detect some cracks in his calm façade.

“We’re tired, having travelled light years to get here,” Mora said.

“Yeah, sure.” The Earther waved a dismissive hand and then leaned into Laer, splaying her fingers over his chest. “Suite 650.”

Before the cracks in his control turned into fissures, Mora stepped between him and the Earther. “I’m afraid he’s mine. And beware, my bite is venomous.”

“Kinky,” the Earther said. “Whatever floats your boat. Suite 650 at seven.”

Finally, the bird creature moved away but not without glancing over her shoulder to give Laer a smoldering look.

“Must I…” He hesitated for a moment. “Copulate with this Earther?”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2474

New Release: Aisle 6 (and a new raffle)

Now out from Changeling Press!  Aisle 6

Trish is doing her usual thing -- checking out the hot guy she calls The Bod at the supermarket -- when she discovers a weird anomaly in aisle 6. When she gets too close, she finds herself transported to another time and place, and The Bod is waiting for her, dressed as a desert sheik. Anders wants to help Trish work out her sexual fantasies. On the fun scale, it sure beats her job in the IT department.

Anders has been tasked to save his species by mating with a woman from a different version of Earth. Trish is his most compatible DNA match. He must keep her with him by any means possible and give her as much sex as she can stand. But will his deception force them apart?

Cleanup on Aisle 6!

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2429

And on December 20, I'll be raffling off this cowl to someone on my newsletter list.  Sign up at right.

An excerpt:

That cute guy was back at the supermarket again. Trish Swanson had watched him for weeks now. Setting out melons and handling tomatoes gently -- like a lover. Most of all climbing to reach something on the top shelf for tiny Mrs. Gilmore. Despite her seventy-odd years, Mrs. G's eyes sparkled whenever he did it. In fact, the old lady was probably putting him up to it and didn't really need the generic, canned dog food up there. As far as Trish knew, she didn't even have a dog. But when he stretched out to his full height, the muscles in his shoulders bunched and released, and he gave anyone watching a good look at a major-league ass. After a while, Trish and Mrs. Gilmore had coordinated their shopping schedules with his shifts so they could both enjoy the view at least once a week.

Today, Mrs. G hadn't shown up, and Trish remained at her station in the pet food aisle. She'd spotted The Bod, as Trish had come to think of him, in the produce section. He'd probably mosey over this way in a minute or two, and if the old lady didn't show up, Trish would either have to confront him herself or wait until next Wednesday for another ogling session.

He rounded the end of the aisle and headed in her direction.

Immediately, her mouth went dry, and her heartbeat started an erratic pitter-pat. She'd always been a complete dunce around good-looking men. Hell, all men. If she were to try to speak to this one, she'd probably stutter and blurt out something that said nothing more than "I'm an idiot."

He had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Not light blue like robin's eggs but more the hue of a cloudless, California sky. Deep, dark, and dangerous. His chestnut hair and pale skin made him stare-worthy, but his most remarkable feature had to be the dimples that appeared at the corners of his mouth when he smiled. And he always smiled. He was doing it right now.

"Hello," he said. One simple, very ordinary word. But it had a lilt to it. Almost an accent, as if English wasn't his first language. He was Latino, maybe. Or Irish. French?

Whatever the origin of his speech, it drove any response right out of her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so she lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. God, what a moron. Why did she have to be so damned shy?

"Where's your friend?" he said.

"Hmm?" Still stupid, but at least she'd said something.

"The older lady. I assumed you must drive her here," he said. "I always see you together."

"Mrs. Gilmore... no, she and I... that is... I only see her here. With you."

He laughed. "I don't drive her here."

"Of course, you don't. I just meant..." Anything she'd meant would make her sound even more foolish than she already did. She surely hadn't wanted to suggest that he and Mrs. G knew each other from somewhere else or staged their performances for her benefit. If she didn't have anything intelligent to say, she'd keep her mouth shut. So she did exactly that.

He rested an elbow on a shelf and struck a casual pose. Not going anywhere for a while, obviously. His posture only emphasized his considerable height and the breadth of his shoulders. He could hardly have shown himself off to better effect except maybe by bending over. Where was Mrs. G when Trish needed her?

"Can I help you with something?" he asked. His voice had taken on a husky tone... the kind you heard in the bedroom after particularly good sex. Not that she'd shared those delightful moments with too many men, but you didn't have to experience that often to have the sensations imprinted in your brain. The dimples in his cheeks and the light in his eyes told her he knew exactly what message he was conveying to her. He had to be supremely confident that she'd be receptive. Luckily for both of them, he'd calculated correctly.

"Help?" she said. There, that came off as casual. More or less.

"You appear to be searching for something. I'm here to make sure you find it."

"Well, since you asked..." What could she make him search for? Dog food upper shelf? Cat litter lower? Mrs. Gilmore always knew how to get him to show off his build to best effect.

He held up a hand. "Never mind. I know."

"You do?" Well now, that could be embarrassing. He'd figured out their little game? Drat. Could he sue them for sexual harassment?

"Aisle 6," he said. "Everything you want is there."

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2429

Covers for my new series

Check out the gorgeous covers for my new series from Avon Impulse (due out this September)

New release from Changeling Press - Love Goddess

PLEASE NOTE:  This is a PG excerpt.  The story is X rated

Chapter One
“Another failure, huh?” the chameleon said. “Too bad.”

Tatiana glanced from the display in front of her toward her familiar. He’d turned the same color as the tabletop -- a warm brown suggestive of mahogany -- and he was doing his statue thing… standing perfectly still as if he were made of wood, too. The posture didn’t keep him from mouthing off at her, though. Maybe she could still trade him in for a black cat.

“They’re screwing each other’s brains out.” She gestured toward the display. “I don’t know how you can call that a failure.”

Larry made a jerky movement toward the screen, cocked his head, and studied Tatiana’s latest subjects. “Yeah, but it’s just sex.”

“What do you mean just sex? Sex is the whole point.”

He relaxed back into his earlier pose. “If you say so.”

Tatiana checked the couple again -- two shy people who’d had the hots for each other for years before she brought them together. In what they thought was the privacy of his bedroom, they’d gotten naked some time ago, and now he lay on top of her, her legs wrapped around his hips as he humped like mad. Their voices blended together into a chorus of “Yes. Oh, God, yes. More, more. I’m going to come.”

As aspiring love goddess for the inhabitants of this human dimension, a different one from her own, Tatiana had to watch to make sure her couples stayed on the right track. She’d always expected to enjoy the evidence of her success. Now, it just made her ache, all because of the absence of the man who’d always promised he’d be her partner. Lucius could soothe the ache if he were here. Instead the sonofabitch had become heir apparent to his father’s kingdom and didn’t have time for trivial matters like spreading love throughout the human world.

So she had to enjoy watching better sex than she’d ever have without Lucius around. Then to make matters worse, the human male decided to get creative and climbed off the woman long enough to position himself, kneeling, at the end of the low bed. When she whimpered, he bent to capture her hips and pull her toward him. In their new position, she could see virtually everything, and there was a lot to be seen.

“They’re going to climax soon,” Larry said.

“I noticed.”

“Then what’s going to happen?”

“How in hell would I know?” she answered.

“You want to be a love goddess. It’s your business to know.”

The grunts and moans from the display were growing louder, more insistent. She reached for the control to turn the display off.

“Don’t,” Larry said. “See what they do now.”

“Why? My work is done.”

“Is it? Or are you afraid to see if you’ve succeeded or not?”

Wise ass. She glared at the lizard. “Oh, all right. If we must.”

The man scrambled up onto the bed next to the woman, and the two of them lay, not touching but staring up at the ceiling.

“That was great,” the woman said after a minute or two.

“Yeah, really,” he said. Neither moved for the other. After another long moment, he stretched. “Want something to eat?”

“I’d probably better get home,” the woman answered. “Early day tomorrow.”

“Right,” he said.

The woman got up and searched around for items of her clothing on the floor. “Next week?”

“Sure thing,” he said.

“Seen enough?” Larry asked.

Tatiana turned off the display and watched as the screen turned back into a fish tank, complete with mechanical but lifelike fish swimming around. Unfortunately, she’d watched them often enough to know the pre-programmed pattern of their movements. This one to the upper right corner, the other one down below. Dull and predictable. She ought to get something real to watch someday.

“So, what’s your point?” she said.

“Did that look like love to you?”

“I get them together. Love is their responsibility.”

Larry turned a vibrant green -- not the usual response for a creature who usually did his best to disappear into his environment. He obviously didn’t like her answer. “How did you get so far away from your real purpose?”

“What do you know about my job? You’re a reptile.”

“A two hundred year old reptile who’s been around humans my entire life,” he said. “When they don’t love, they behave badly. I signed on with you because I thought you could help them out.”

Tatiana leaned back in her chair, stretching her feet out in front of her. Twisting her head to one side and the other, she did her best to work a kink out of her neck. Maybe the lizard had a point. She’d managed quite a bit of success with the sex part of getting her people together, but they never seemed to go beyond the physical.

When she’d started on this pathway, she’d had a male partner. The hierarchy would never have accepted her into training to become what humans thought of as gods if she hadn’t. When Lucius had abandoned her, the males in charge had predicted she’d fail, and now she was proving them right, damn it all.

“If you had a mate, you’d understand,” Larry said.

Oh, right. The world’s answer to all of women’s problems… a man. “I don’t need a mate.”

“You spend all your time watching other people have sex. Doesn’t it drive you crazy?”

“I have sex, too.”

“Oh yeah?” Larry said. “When?”

“Let’s see…” The last time had been the Wednesday before. No, Tuesday. She’d gone to the pet shop to buy Larry’s grubs and crickets. The guy behind the counter had had a cute smile, so they’d hung a “closed” sign on the door and had ducked into the store room. The whole encounter hadn’t taken very long, and he’d turned out to know more about reptiles than women’s bodies. Still… she’d had an orgasm. Eventually.

“See? You’re not even having sex any longer,” Larry said.

“I’ve forgotten more about sex than you’ll ever know.”

“My point exactly. You’ve forgotten.”

“All right. I’ll get all dressed up tonight and go out and find a guy. Don’t wait up for me.” Good idea, even if the chameleon had given it to her. She needed more than a quickie to keep her on her toes. All she needed was a some sweet loving to return to the top of her game.

“That’s not going to work any better than the other times you’ve tried it,” Larry said. “You need a mate.”

http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2197

To read an X-rated excerpt, please visit http://alicesexcerpts.blogspot.com

authoralicegaines@yahoo.com

New review for my short story, Sex After Death

Thank you, Long and Short Reviews

http://www.longandshortreviews.com/book-reviews/sex-after-death-by-alice-gaines/

What surprised me the most about this tale was how often it made me laugh. The author introduces Katy to such unexpected situations that her reactions to them are as humorous as they are well-suited for the tone of this piece. Sometimes arousal and laughter go well together. This is one of them.

Sex After Death is one of the best short stories I’ve read in 2013. I can’t recommend it highly enough to anyone who loves quirky, funny erotica.

It's alive

It's out, finally.  My first published book, The Sixth Lover.

In Gilded Age Manhattan, young widow Carole Rutherford has more money than she can ever spend.  What she’s missed in life as the wife of a much older man is true passion…sex with a man young and strong enough to fulfill all her fantasies, leaving her limp with satisfaction.  She fears this part of life has passed her by and she’ll never rid herself of the longings that plague her waking and dreaming hours.

Until she receives a letter from one Mr. Thomas Rose, a man who claims to have met her in the past and who writes the intriguing words:

“You are not easy to forget.”

A curious correspondence between the Carole and the mysterious Mr. Rose follows- one that soon has her visiting an odd shop in search of items no decent woman would own.  After that, their letters become more and more intimate until Carole indulges in erotic acts and asks that Mr. Rose do the same and report on his experiences to her.  Finally, he issues her the ultimate challenge.  She is to come to him, but she must take four other lovers first.

The search for the illusive Mr. Rose takes Carole first to England, then to France, and finally to Austria as she makes a journey of sexual self-discovery.  The man she finds when she finally arrives in Italy to confront Mr. Rose may be her ultimate lover or someone who’s totally forbidden.

http://www.amazon.com/Sixth-Lover-Alice-Gaines-ebook/dp/B00GM8CFKM/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1384296535&sr=1-1&keywords=the+sixth+lover

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-sixth-lover-alice-gaines/1117378036?ean=2940149002580

New Release from Changeling Press - Sex After Death

I'm so excited.  My new story from Changeling Press is out.  Sex After Death is a short story about a woman who buys a very intriguing statue at an antiques shop.  She gets a lot more than she bargained for...the Changeling way.

Read an excerpt:

Sex After Death

“Oh, isn’t he cute?”  Katy’s friend’s voice carried all the way across the curio shop.  Katy glanced over to spot what Ginger had picked out.  It seemed to be a vase of some sort made of dark material.

“This’ll make a great gag gift for Sylvia,” Ginger said.  “Check it out.”

Katy joined Ginger and got a better view of the thing.  Not a vase but a planter designed to be filled with soil and a bit of greenery.  The shape had clearly caught Ginger’s attention - the carved figure of a man, anatomically correct with a large sac and a flaccid member of truly impressive proportions.

“I think you’re onto something,” Katy said.  “We could have all kinds of fun with this at Sylvia’s bridal shower.”

Katy took the little man from Ginger and hefted him.  “Heavy.  Must be stone of some kind.”

“Marble of a very rare dark color,” a male voice said from behind her.

She nearly jumped.  The owner of the store - a small man with thinning hair and a pencil mustache - had crept up on them.  “Very old.  Ancient, in fact, going back to the reign of Tiberius.”

“You’ve had it carbon dated, have you?” Katy asked him.

“Not necessary,” he said.  “The style is recognized by collectors.  There‘s an engraving at the bottom.”

Katy squinted but couldn’t make out much of the writing.  It was faded with time and in a language she didn’t understand, making it ever more difficult to decipher.  “What does it say?”

“The closest anyone can tell is coitus post mortem,” he answered.

Ginger giggled and put her fingers over her mouth.  “That sounds like it means sex after death.”

“It does.”  The man didn’t crack a smile.  Clearly, he was serious.

“But even if you believe in life after death,” Katy said.  “Sex after death?  Angels getting it on?  I mean, really.”

“What I believe doesn’t matter.  The inscription says sex after death.”  The man almost rolled his eyes.  Clearly, he’d had this conversation before.

Freaking weird, but appealing, too.  A guy so well endowed.  An eternity of really great sex.  Maybe he was a fertility icon or the gods’ gift to all womankind.  In a few weeks, he‘d serve as a centerpiece at a rowdy bridal shower.  “How much do you want for it?”

The owner smoothed his mustache with his fingertips for a moment.  “I could part with it for twenty dollars.”

“For something ancient with fine detail?”  Katy’s antennae went up.  If something sounded too good to be true, it usually wasn’t on the level.

Ginger tugged her elbow.  “Buy it.  It’s perfect.”

She really ought to.  At this price, who cared if it turned out to be something mass-produced to fool the yokels?  It would make a great shower gift.  They’d all get a bit tipsy on champagne and make up bawdy stories about the statue and what they‘d do with a thing as big as his.

Still, the skeptic in her wanted answers.  “Seriously, why the low price?”

The man gave her a sugary-sweet smile.  “I’ll be perfectly honest with you, Miss…”

“Wilson,” she supplied.

“Miss Wilson,” he said.  “Only women ever buy this piece, and they invariably return it and want their money back.”

She turned the planter over and around, searching for cracks and not finding any.  “What’s wrong with it?”

“The ladies never say, and I don’t question them.  I like to keep my customers happy.”

“I see,” she said.  Although she didn’t.  Not at all.  Not knowing its true origins or value, she wouldn’t pay much more for this piece.  But twenty dollars?  What the heck?

“I get tired of dusting it,” the man said.  “For twenty dollars, you can dust it for a while.”

“Fine.  I will.”  She turned toward Ginger.  “What should we plant in this?

“An asparagus fern would look like crazy green hair,” Ginger said.

“Or a really phallic cactus.”

“Oh, you mustn’t plant anything in it,” the man said.  “Unless you want the plant to die.”

“What, is it toxic?”  Katy set the planter back on the display table.

“Not at all, but you can’t get it wet, so you can’t water the plant.”  The man handed it back to her.  “Otherwise, it’s perfectly safe.”

Ginger stared at the planter and then the man.  “What do you mean ‘otherwise’?”

“It’s cursed.”  The man smiled and played with his mustache again.

Ginger’s eyes widened.  “Wow.”

“Oh, come on,” Katy said.

“You don’t believe in curses, Miss Wilson?”  If the man’s mustache had had a long enough end, he’d be twirling it by now.

“I don’t,” she said.  “Especially about little men who cost twenty dollars.”

“I hardly believed it myself until an old woman came into my shop one day and recognized it.  She claimed the curse was why my customers kept returning it,” he said.  “She told me there’d been a death associated with it.”

“Did it kill any of the women who bought it from you?” Ginger asked.

“Not a one, but I’ll tell you…“  The man leaned toward them as if trying to keep the story secret when, in fact, there wasn’t anyone else in the shop.  “They didn’t seem normal.  They had a look in their eyes…”

Ginger got caught up in his BS, inclining her head toward his.  “What kind of look?”

“Feverish,” he said, almost in a whisper.  “Obsessed.”

“I promise not to get obsessed with him, even if he is decently hung,” Katy said.

“Fine,” the man said.  “Keep him dry, and don’t return him.”

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=2142

authoralicegaines@yahoo.com