Thursday, September 13, 2012

Getting Vocal in the Bedroom - RIPTIDE ~ Amber Lea Easton !GIVE@WAY!

Please welcome Amber Lea Easton to the blog today! She just released her new book RIPTIDE.

Getting vocal in the bedroom
by Amber Lea Easton

As a romance novelist, random people often mistake me for a sex expert or relationship advice columnist.  It’s kind of funny because I’ve never thought of myself in that light even though I’m known to write a steamy sex scene and am a proponent of happily ever after.  The more I think about it...I guess I am those things, in a distorted more fun way.

So...putting on my sex slash relationship expert hat today I’m going to chat about spicing things up in the bedroom by getting vocal.  I figure you all can handle a good romp so let’s get busy.

Sex is a primal act, yet some people restrain themselves from letting loose because of inhibitions or false beliefs that getting vocal might mean they’re less than respectable.  But let’s think about this carefully, if you’ve gotten naked and are comfortable enough with someone to be getting intimate, then what’s the problem with voicing your desire? 

Tell your lover what feels good--feedback is better than being left clueless and gives him/her permission to do the same with you.  Wouldn’t you rather enjoy making love and know that you’re giving pleasure in return?  Say “I love it when you do___” or “it feels so good when you___”.  Everyone loves positive reinforcement! 

Still feeling shy?  Fake confidence at first---channel a character from a romance novel and go for it.  Faking confidence is better than faking...something else.  *wink*

Words not your thing when you’re caught up in passion?  Go for the moans, the mmm’s, the ahh’s.  Like I said, sex itself is a primal act.  Sound stimulates the animal instinct we all have inside of us.  Let it out.  Not only will making the most basic of sounds stimulate your lover, you’ll trick yourself into being more aroused. 

Speaking of arousal, a fun game to play while you’re in the foreplay stage and when the clothes are still on is to say things like “I bet you didn’t know I like it when ___” with you each taking turns completing the sentence.  This game takes more guts--confidence--so maybe you need to work up to it, but it’s a real turn on to talk as the clothes are coming off.  Hey, some instructions can go a long way to making the experience more enjoyable and deepening the intimacy between you. 

What about pillow talk, you ask? Here I advise you to be careful. Orgasm releases oxytocin so you may be more inclined to share your most intimate details that you may regret in the morning--or maybe not. Just know that pillow talk is NOT the same as sex talk.  But, hey, if you made it to the oxytocin stage, then good for you! Enjoy it all. 

Title: Riptide
Author: Amber Lea Easton
Publisher: Siren-Bookstrand
Length: 98,000 words
Genres: Contemporary Romantic Suspense (Adventure)
Heat Level: Steamy


One violent night shatters Lauren Biltmore’s life. As an anchorwoman, she's accustomed to reporting the news rather than being the lead story.  She escapes the spotlight by fleeing to her brother's home in the Cayman Islands. Haunted by nightmares, all she wants is a distraction from reality.

Distraction arrives via sexy screenwriter, Noah Reynolds. His take-me-to-bed looks mask a past ripe with scandal. He knows he should stay away from Lauren, especially when the worst night of her life unlocks his writer's block and while he's dealing with a stalker of his own, but ethics are his weakness.

Attraction sizzles beneath Caribbean sunshine. As their relationship grows, Noah's stalker intensifies her torment. Lauren wonders if her paranoia is justified or a carryover from her past. What's real? What's imagined?  Tentative trust is tested as their love is swept up against a riptide of deceit, murder, and revenge. 

Surrendering, she leaned her head against his shoulder and held on as if her life depended on it. When he wrapped his arms around her, she closed her eyes. He felt like a safe haven in a storm.

“When you look at me, do you think about why I’m here or what I’ve done like Larry does? Tell me the truth,” she whispered against his neck.

“No, I don’t. That’s the truth.” Fingers on her chin, he tilted her face up to look at him. “I see a beautiful woman who’s my friend’s sister and who I’ve been having elicit fantasies about for nearly forty-eight hours even though I know it’s a bad idea.”

“It is a bad idea.” She stared into his eyes as if trying to see his soul. She needed at least one person in this world who didn’t think of her as damaged. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I saw the way you looked at me back there. You were wondering if I’d snap.”

“Because a man had been shot next to you, not because of your past. Damn it, I’m shaken up myself.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “You tried to protect me, wanted me to tamper with evidence, that’s sexy as hell.”

She grinned despite the weight that had fallen on her shoulders. “I wanted to see what was in the envelope.”

“ you were driven by curiosity.” His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip. “You’re one helluva woman, Lauren Biltmore.”

“You don’t know me.” She looped her hands around his neck and leaned closer. Damn, the man felt like heaven. “Is someone trying to hurt you, Noah?”

In the darkness, it was hard to tell if the shadows across his face were caused by clouds over the moon or unspoken emotion.

“No one’s trying to hurt me.” His grin seemed fake. “Let’s get you back to Austin’s.”

She held him when he would have stepped back. “You’re lying.”

He pushed his hands through her hair, gaze scanning her face. “Like you said, I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. Maybe it’s best if we stop this before it goes any further. You don’t need my kind of trouble in your life right now.”

“Maybe your kind of trouble is exactly what I need.” She kissed him because the adrenaline surging through her body needed release, and he was the perfect outlet.

He matched her intensity with a fierceness that weakened her knees. She sagged against him, hands clinging to his shoulders for support. Trouble or not, the man kissed like a porn star. Damn, he melted the skin from her bones with every stroke of his tongue against hers.

Her hands roamed over his shoulders to his back. She pressed closer, craving skin on skin. One thought and one thought only penetrated her She wanted him inside her. Now. Fast. To hell with the consequences.

Together they fell against the sand with laughter tangled between their lips. Somewhere between fleeing a crime scene and kissing, fear had transitioned to passion. She needed his touch, his mouth, his body heavy against hers. Desire consumed every cell of her body.

“We’re the most unethical people I know,” he said against her mouth. “I shouldn’t be proud of that, but strangely I am.”

“Take me back to Austin’s. Stay with me.” She caught his lip lightly between her teeth and stared into his eyes.

His hand slid beneath her skirt and up her thigh. “I don’t know if we’re good or bad for each other. I’m not thinking clearly at all around you, making bad decisions, dragging you along with me.”

“I’m going willingly.” She nipped his neck, her hands smoothing down his back before grabbing his ass. “We have too many clothes on.”

“And we’re on a beach within view of anyone who happens to walk by and look closely enough.” He laughed against the side of her face. “Let me take you home.”

“And you’ll stay with me?” She kissed him again, unwilling to let him go. He felt too damn good pressing her into the cool sand at her back.

His kiss softened and teased as his hand caressed her naked thigh beneath the skirt, his thumb moving over her panties. She hungered for him like a woman coming off a diet craved chocolate.

“I’m such a bastard,” he whispered before rolling off of her and covering his face with his hands. “I can’t do this. It’s not right.”

The abruptness of his absence rattled her. They laid side-by-side, their breathing labored and a sea of stars above them.

“Do what? Me? Us? What can’t you do?” she asked even though she didn’t want to talk. No, talking was the furthest thing from her agenda.

“I can’t be the man you need me to be.” He sat up and looked toward the ocean. “That’s just how it is. I’m not a good guy. It’s for the best. Trust me.”


Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published fiction and nonfiction author. For twenty years, she's worked in the fields of journalism and advertising with a brief detour into the financial industry.  Although she holds a BA in Communications & Journalism, she is a perpetual student of life who enjoys taking post-graduate courses on a wide variety of subjects when time allows.  Smart is sexy, according to Easton, which is why she writes about strong female characters who have their flaws and challenges, but who ultimately persevere.

Easton currently lives with her two teenagers in the Colorado Rocky Mountains where she gives thanks daily for the gorgeous view outside her window. She finds inspiration from traveling, the people she meets, nature and life’s twists and turns. At the end of the day, as long as she's writing, she considers herself to be simply "a lucky lady liv'n the dream."

Visit Amber at:
Twitter - @MtnMoxieGirl


  1. Loved the post, Krystal! I think this is good advice. No one likes a 'dead' lay. Although, that would be a pretty good title for a steamy Vampire/Paranormal Romance novel ;) .

  2. Thanks, Jessicca, for enjoying my advice. LOL Also, thanks for stopping by!

    Thanks for hosting me today, Krystal. I appreciate it.

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