A Bunch of Hot Guys and Me

Please forgive me. I just couldn’t help myself. A work I created and populated, born of the man in my life who means everything to me and the path my life has taken, has become so much a part of me that I couldn’t fight the need anymore.

What need am I talking about? Simply, my need, as an author and person, to allow myself to spend more time in this world, the world of the White Tigers. You might ask, well, if you love it so much, of course, that seems perfectly natural! Why wouldn’t you write as many stories as you can? Especially when there is a definite group of readers (bless all of you deep in my heart!) who also love that world.

It wasn’t so simple. Even though I adore the White Tigers and have gotten untold amounts of satisfaction and pleasure in writing this series, I was younger, less experienced and carried a strong belief that I had burned myself out, written myself out, that the series was done, nothing left, even though I had two more stories in mind (i,e, that of the twins Mod and Tatou and that of Jin and Wu Li who make an appearance in Men of Tokyo: Sudden Heat. I didn’t realize that it would be best just to continue this eries and not worry about writing books I believed would be more popular. Now I have taken the time to write to people who have signed the White Tigers Fanlist as well as all those good-hearted kind and supportive readers on sites like Facebook and Goodreads who have personally told me how much they loved the series or have written one after the other reviews saying how much they loved it. Yet others have written to me personally and expressed how much the White Tigers stories have been comforting, helped them in their lives and moved them deeply. How could I have been so short-sighted?!

Once I understood this truth, I set about to fixing it immediately and within an hour had half of the first chapter done of the next book in the series, Men of Tokyo: Forbidden Cravings, the story of Mod and Tatou, the twins who are so mischevous and lovable. They are crazy about Quan Chan and always tease him and make him blush, but they are also two of his greatest admirers and did everything they could to comfort him when his heart was broken in Men of Tokyo: Sudden Surrender. However, Mod and Tatou are also as deep and intelligent as they are mischevous and sexy and the story of how they came to be at the White Tiger is in the process of being told. The good news also is that for established readers of the White Tigers, Mod and Tatou’s story is an enriching addition to the series and for readers new to the series, Men of Tokyo: Forbidden Cravings can be read as a prequel to the whole series!

All that said, I’m just so happy to be working on this series again and below is a snippet from the first chapter (unedited) to give you a sense of the story. Hope you enjoy! And thank you again for reading this and for your support. Warmly, Sedonia

Snippet:

Chapter One
London, England a few years back

“Mod, what the hell? You’ve got to be taking the piss!” Tatou stared at his brother. Like looking into a mirror really, except that their mother’s Thai features were more obvious on him. Mod’s dark eyes were a touch narrower. And the grin on his full, pouty lips was always slightly more devilish. At least Tatou thought so.
“I swear I’m not!”
In the main room of the suite, the girls’ pajama party Angela had invited them to rang on. Mostly girls, giggling. An occasional cackle.
“Then Angie’s taking the piss.” The words that had just come from Mod’s lips could not be true. Not of Angie, who’d been their mate since third form and had followed them to Uni.
Mod took a swig of his beer and clapped him on the back. “Ask her yourself, mate. She swears it wasn’t her idea. Someone asked her to pass the offer along.” He hooked his arm so that Tatou’s neck rested in its crook and pressed their cheeks together, giving Tatou a whiff of his brother’s beer breath. “Just think, a hundred quid for a few seconds’ snog.”
Tatou wrenched out of his brother’s loose hold, but not before an odd frisson went through parts of him it shouldn’t have, parts he’d worked bloody hard to keep under control for a long time. “There are so many reasons we shouldn’t do that.”
“Hey, guys!” Angie’s voice shot from the room followed by another shriek of laughter. The volume in the already smoke and music-filled room rose. The natives were getting restless. And they wanted what a hundred quid would buy them.
That did nothing to wipe away Mod’s shit-eating grin. The barmy bugger. He was always up for anything. But this? “First of all, Mod, it’s prostitution.”
That pulled a throaty laugh from his drunk brother. “Okay, T. And what are the other reasons?”
“Well, there’s one other, really.” Tatou stepped in closer. Gay they both were but that didn’t mean you sucked face with your own brother. He didn’t even allow that track in his thoughts, even when his mind tried to go there. ”In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re my brother? There’s got to be a few injunctions in the Bible that tell us exactly where we’re going to end up if we snog. Especially for a room full of horny chicks.”
For the first time since Mod had pulled him out of the party room to tell him what Angie and her fellow dorm mates wanted, his grin faded. “I don’t see the problem in that. We have our own forms of affection, or have you forgotten?” He leaned in and nuzzled Tatou’s cheek. His brother’s soft lips made his skin tingle. And other body parts that would remain nameless. He closed his eyes. They’d shared a bed in the family’s tiny flat all their lives and often helped each other fall asleep by what they called “fitting.” It had only been here at Uni that they each had a bed in their dorm room and only occasionally practiced fitting. Truthfully, he missed the closeness. They were best friends. Didn’t go anywhere apart. Not even meals. Not even dating, limited though it was in their twenty-two years at this point to an occasional threesome in which the third guy was the focus, not each other. They really were two halves of one whole. But now, it was time be…normal. Not to go in the direction his mind and body had been heading. Being in school, so many people in the dorm all the time had kept them both…apart, you could say. This was not going to help. Then Mod’s nuzzling lips whispered a trail toward his ear, toward the sensitive flesh of his earlobe…
With a hand on Mod’s chest, he pushed him so that Mod was forced to take a step back. “Forget it.”
“There you guys are! What’s going on? The girls are going to come after you if you take any longer.” Angie, dressed in a pink silky nightgown and fuzzy slippers, danced her blonde-headed way over and put her arms around both their shoulders, swaying in time to the bass beat that made the floorboards vibrate. “I’ve got the collection going already. And…” She lifted her head up, a triumphant gleam in her hazel eyes, “There’s another fifty quid in it if you take your shirts off.”
Mod’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell!” He turned on Tatou. “T, if you don’t do this, you’re the bloodiest prat ever!” He narrowed his eyes. “Forget your stupid ideas of hell and damnation. Think of how we need this money for our trip!”
Ah yes. Their graduation present to themselves, partially funded by Mum and Dad after graduation. A whole summer in Japan. At that special place in Tokyo they’d found on the Net. Honestly, they were headed for one of the most expensive cities in the world. They could use all the extra dosh they could get. That hundred and fifty quid would go right into their travel fund. He heaved a sigh. “All right. Let’s do it.”
Angie let out a girl squeal. “This is going to be so hot!” She hooked her arms through both of theirs and led them back into the crowded room.
Shite. The common room of Angie’s suite looked more like what Tatou imagined the inside of Chippendale’s looked like on a weekend night, except that the patrons were dressed in nightgowns, pajamas and slippers and were draped all over the sofas, chairs and floor of the suite’s common room, full of pillows and blankets. And a few stuffed animals thrown in. The shrieks of delight drowned out the music as Angie led them to the front of the room where there was a small space away from the heat generated by all those horny college women. The sight made his heart pound and throat tighten. His mind fogged and his vision blurred. Up until this moment, he’d been as much the impish tease in their group of friends as Mod was, sometimes more so. Now, with all those pairs of female eyes on him and his brother, knowing what they wanted, were giving up money for, what was more nerve-wracking? All this lustful attention and expectation, or the fact that he was about to break his personal taboo? A hand clapped on his shoulder. He turned.
Mod was grinning at him, the corner of his full lips turned up. “C’mon, mate, let’s give ‘em their money’s worth, eh?” Before Tatou could answer, Mod released his shoulder. His hands went to the hem of his own t-shirt, lifted it off and flung it aside in one swoop. Eliciting, of course, another chorus of feminine catcalls.
Tatou glanced at his brother’s slim torso. Another shiver of electric heat travelled through him. Am I really so narcissistic that Mod turns me on?
Mod stepped up to him. “You’re taking too long,” he said and grasped two fistfuls of Tatou’s shirt. A sharp yank forced Tatou’s arms up and before he knew it, the air of the room hit his bare akin and another round of lusty girl cheers pounded through his head. A lot of these girls were mates but he swore he didn’t recognize them now, a feral lot of she-wolves in heat.
But then Mod’s hands closed around his upper arms and Mod’s dark eyes bore into his. The mischievous gleam he knew so well shone out of them, a direct reflection of his own, of course. But in private, they had their own world, a communication that didn’t always need words. Whatever Mod really felt about what they were doing, would surely come out later once they were back in their own dorm room two floors below this one. Especially if he thought Tatou was mad at him for it. Cheeky as Mod was, his brother’s concerns were his and he cared. Always cared… Tatou’s gaze fell on Mod’s lips. His consciousness registered that around them, the room had grown quiet, except for the music, which had fallen to a slow dance kind of love ballad.
Wordlessly, Mod pulled him close. Their bare chests touched, then pressed. Warm skin growing warmer from their combined heat. The embrace forced Tatou’s arms out. At first he let them hang at his sides, but then the temptation was too much. The moment took over and he reached around…let his hands rest on the small of Mod’s back. The hard ridges of muscles along his spine med Tatou’s fingertips. Tan-hued skin, smooth and perfect. Even though their Dad was English, there were some Mediterranean ancestors mixed in so the golden hue and shiny, dark hair came from both their parents.
Mod leaned in and pressed his lips on the side of Tatou’s neck. Tatou’s eyelids fluttered. That felt too good and he tilted his head. Mod feathered a small kiss there, right over the pulse, then licked. Tatou let out a breath and squeezed Mod’s back. Good thing their fronts were pressed together or all these women would get an eyeful of a hard-on growing in the front of his jeans. Their audience was getting well more than a hundred fifty quid’s worth as far as he was concerned.
Mod trailed those little kisses up, over his jaw and onto his cheek. Damn! The fire ignited deep inside him. The very desire he’d kept hidden for so long, tried to hide from himself was now welling up, burning like flames through dry leaves for all to see. Did Mod know this? The one thing he’d never voiced out loud, in spite of their closeness. He must have known anyway, sensed that’s how his brother wanted to be kissed and held.
Mod’s hand laced into his short hair, cupped the back of his head. Mod’ eyes burned into his, lids heavy, thick lashes giving them that lazy yet hot look. The next he knew, their lips were together. A pierce of hot wet moistness past the seam of his lips and Mod’s tongue clashed with his.
Another feminine chorus sounded behind them, but this one of nearly silent murmurs, sighs. Except for the music, you could have heard a pin drop. And but for the soft moist friction of their lips and tongues together. A sensuous dance that sent invisible threads of arousal and need thundering through Tatou’s body. Mod’s cock was hard. Tatou felt it, pressing against his through their pants. Hard, rock hard insistence. Shite, what would happen next if they hadn’t the audience? The answer was simple—everything Tatou had ever imagined and squashed away. Locked in the forbidden corners of his mind and soul.
Mod’s lips lingered. His tongue slowly, sensuously explored Tatou’s, every recess, glided over his teeth. Mod smelled good. He always did. Even with the beer. There was always an undercurrent of mint in there. His lips were soft, the sweetest velvet. Delicious. Addictive.
As if teasing the hell out of him, Mod ended the kiss. His hands slid back to Tatou’s shoulders and Mod gazed at him, heavy-lidded, cheeks flushed. Then the devil slid back in again. The gleam of mischief returned and Mod turned back to their audience. “Was that all right for you, ladies?”
Angie stepped forward, somewhat unsteady on her feet. Her pale cheeks show a reddish glow. Her eyes were glazed over. A smile pasted on her lips. “Perfect,” she murmured.
Mod grinned. He released Tatou whose knees felt slightly not solid. He wavered a moment then forced himself to balance. In the next second, Mod had bent over and snatched up both their shirts. He handed Tatou his shirt then reached for the beer he’d set aside on the nearby table before their…performance.
In a daze, Tatou worked his way back into his shirt, while ghostly tingles strayed through his lips, his neck, his cheeks. The memory of Mod’s chest against his remained in his skin. As he turned, he caught sight of Angie pressed closed to Mod, her hand pushed into his jeans pocket. She was slipping him their earnings, no doubt, while the guests of one her popular girls’ night in gatherings were whispering among themselves. Then she reached out and gently clasped Tatou’s wrist, pulling him closer. “Thank you guys so, so much,” she said, her eyes reflecting the delight she’d just been given. “You have given a group of exam-soaked women something to dream about besides failing finals and not graduating.” She kissed each of them on the cheek. “I will be forever indebted to both of you.”

Awesome author Madelynne Ellis!

I’m so excited and honored to have Black Lace author (and fellow Gackt lover), Madelynne Ellis on my blog in an exclusive interview. Yay!

About Madelynne
Zodiac sign: Cancer, Water Ox
Favorite foods: Cheese, Chocolate, Olives
Music: Gackt and far too many other things to list.
Authors: Winston Graham, JRR Tolkien
Films: Labyrinth, Infernal Affairs, Ashura, Dangerous Liaisons

SG: Hi Madelynne. Thanks so much for being on my blog today.

ME: Hi Sedonia, and thanks for having me. I feel all honoured.

SG: I’ll start with the question all erotic romance authors are asked: What got you into writing this genre?

ME: Well, back in the mid-nineties a friend of mine found the Black Lace book I was reading and suggested that I have a go at writing one. I had no writing aspirations at the time, but it sounded like an interesting idea, so I sent off for their guidelines, and rather a long time later they published my first book – A Gentleman’s Wager. Now, I can’t imagine writing a book that doesn’t include sex in some form, both the act and the complex emotions that surround it are such a large part of who we are.

SG: This is the question I love to ask. Do you have certain guys who inspire the heroes in your books?

ME: I don’t particularly go looking for people who resemble my heroes, but occasionally I stumble upon someone who makes me go, ‘That’s .’ And then I will collect pictures of them. Jonathan Rhys Meyers with long hair always reminds me of Vaughan from A Gentleman’s Wager and Phantasmagoria, while this image (1) of Gackt is exactly how I imagine Takeshi in his wedding outfit in Dark Designs. Gackt in this guise was very definitely the starting point for Blaze in Broken Angel (in Possession). Actually, much of the story was inspired by his promo video for the song Vanilla.

blond Gackt

SG: As you know, I’m particularly fond of Takeshi from Dark Designs. Can you talk a bit more about the inspiration for this character as well as the story in general?

I’m not really sure why I decided to have a Japanese character in Dark Designs, other than it seemed appropriate to the setting. The book is about Remy Davies a gothic fashion designer with a yaoi fetish. I wanted to make Takeshi unashamedly geeky but in a cool, slightly aggressive way. A lot of the elements of his character (and those of the others) are references to comics, manga and anime, for example his silver-blue hair and bosozoku (biker gang) background. Really I suppose that book is populated with exaggerations of characters I’ve encountered through life. It was enormously fun to write.

Curiously, many of the video game, comic and music references I included, I expected to be asked to remove in the revisions phase. The fact that they made it to the published version makes me all kinds of happy.

SG: Readers may not know that you won Best Male-Male Sex Scene Scarlet Magazine, 2006 Erotic Fiction Awards for a scene between Takeshi and the other hero Silk. I did love that scene myself! Was writing m/m something that has just come naturally to you or has there been a process of discovering that this is a genre that you love writing in?

I think I’m just wired that way. From the outset, I’ve included m/m scenarios in my work, although until recently I’d never written anything longer than a short story that was entirely m/m focussed. I tend to veer towards the ménage a trois in longer works as it allows for loads of conflict. However, I’m currently finishing up a Regency set story about two men forced to spent a night together in a haunted folly and that’s entirely m/m. Hopefully, someone will love it enough to publish it.

SG: I know that you also enjoy writing historicals. What periods do you favor and why? I’m currently reading A Gentleman’s Wager and I’m impressed by how vividly you evoke the period. How much research do you need to do to achieve this?

My favourite era to write in is definitely Georgian England. There’s such a lot going on in the world, you have rigid social divisions, and most importantly fantastic clothes. I particularly love men’s costumes from that period, as they’re so lavish and pretty with their abundance of beads, buttons, ribbons and lace. The illusion of androgyny fascinates me. I love that the men look like butterflies, but are still sword-carrying alphas underneath it all. Oh, and of course the strength and beauty image feeds straight into my whole fascination with bisexuality.

As for how much research I do… Well, I have a broad idea of the time so I tend to just research specific details as required. I’ve made period costumes in the past, and being in England I have numerous castles and great houses virtually on my doorstep if I want a bit of inspiration. Obviously, there’s a lot to account for, but the most research heavy book I’ve written was actually Passion of Isis, which is a contemporary set on an archaeological dig in Egypt.

SG: What are you currently working on?

I’m still tidying up Pure Folly (mentioned above) and I’m busy outlining the next book in the A Gentleman’s Wager series. I’m keeping the title secret, but this book will wrap up Vaughan, Bella and Lucerne’s story. It takes place shortly after the conclusion of Phantasmagoria and will be very relationship based.

SG: What releases do we have to look forward to in the near future and could you please share a snippet of something for us?

No definite release date for anything in the future at the moment except for a short story, El Alquimista, in Love at First Bite.

This is a snippet from Phantasmagoria.

‘Let go!’ Bella fought against Vaughan’s hold, but remained trapped between the flexing steel of his warm body and the wall. Vaughan quashed her cries, forcing his tongue into her mouth and kissing her hard.

She melted.

Nobody else ever kissed her with the same knee-buckling intensity, with a taste that washed straight to her quaint. She’d never been able to resist his kiss. Never.

‘Get off me,’ she snarled, when he finally pulled back for air.

‘Not yet.’ He locked an arm across his chest, while his body still pressed against her as unyielding as pig iron, and with his free hand he lifted her hem.

Her arousal exposed, Bella turned her head away from his scalding breath. ‘I’m not your plaything. Not even your mistress.’

‘You’re my lover.’ His breath troubled the pulse point in her throat. ‘If not my mistress, what are you, some slattern that needed a bed for a night?

She snapped her teeth at him, but he merely laughed and pushed his fingers into her heat. His thumb worked bitter circles around her clitoris, driving her onto her toes, gasping for breath. Arousal so thick it felt like bellyache knotted her lower half. Slickly, his fingers worked their magic, driving her to the brink of joy, and transforming sharp words into sharper breaths.

She couldn’t speak. She felt his cock lying unbearably hard against her hip, so full of promise.

‘Sing for me, my nightingale. Come.’ He dragged his lips down the side of her neck and sucked. She couldn’t fight it. Shards of frosty hatred cracked into sparklers of delight. The swirl of his thumb, the twist of his fingers brought such sweet, swift pleasure, her limbs trembled.

Bella’s pulse raced with need and expectation. She managed to win one arm free, and immediately dug her fingers into his bottom. The muscles clenched and unclenched as he rocked against her thigh, taking his pleasure from the friction. The dance of their bodies slowed, as her breaths became shallow and ragged. Everything was concentrated in her clit and the tingle of her nipples. The whole world seemed to contract into one point as she gasped into his chest and her orgasm rendered her soft and pliant.

Bella snuggled against his shoulder, her eyes wet with tears, content for a moment to simply exist in his embrace.

‘Now you’re even.’ Vaughan disentangled their bodies, and stepped back. ‘Don’t ever presume to tell me whom I can bed in my own house.’

She felt the blood return to her face. Her eyes narrowed, but so did Vaughan’s. Was this battle of wills really what she wanted? She longed for Lucerne’s easy smile, the safety of his embrace.

Vaughan was the most exciting, sexually aggressive man she’d ever met. The most perverse, the most infuriating, and it hurt to love him.

God, how it hurt!

Thank you, Madelynne!

Visit Madelynne’s website.

Great Reviews for Manwich!

A positive review is always a nice little pick-me-up. This one is from Romance Junkies. 4.5 Blue Ribbons out of 5! Yay!

Sedonia Guillone’s MANWICH is a heart-touching tale about three people who have been hurt in the past and lack self confidence. They each fulfill a need within each other that goes far beyond just sexual gratification. The love and trust between Kayla, Shawn, and Ryan can easily be felt, making their relationship beautiful while encompassing many of the fantasies the readers may have about threesomes. Ms. Guillone does an amazing job bringing out the emotional aspect of her characters. Situations that could have been strictly sexual, become emotionally stimulating and will leave readers sighing. If you enjoyed Ms. Guillone’s LADY OF TWO LAIRDS, you’ll love this story as well.

AND – 5 Angels from Fallen Angel Reviews!

Holy scorching hotness! The passion on these pages fairly leaps around in the air and if you think the sex between Shawn and Kayla is steamy, just wait – it gets even better. It’s great to see an author create characters that readers can identify with and relate to, and Sedona Guillone has done just that in Manwich; her characters are authentic and fully fleshed out without being overdone or trite. The dilemma facing Kayla is to break out of the shell she’s made of her life and try something new, something wild, and she certainly achieves her goal. I’m not going to spoil these delectable surprises; you’ll just have to read all about it for yourself. I assure you that you’ll feel rewarded at the poignance and healing that this oftentimes surprising and funny plot puts forth, even as you’re aroused beyond imagining at the sultry scenes. Manwich is a delightful feast for the senses, and you’ll truly love this too-hot-to-handle tale!