Author Cass Ford wants to promote sex positivity! Read on to find out more and hear about her latest book!
The Fifty Shades trilogy opened the doors for erotic romance writers and readers like me, but there’s still plenty of shame surrounding women, sex and porn. With Prince of Sin, I wanted to continue the momentum. So I investigated the adult entertainment industry to learn more. What did I discover?
Grimmer aspects, like
inequality or the prevalence of scammers
Above all, porn is a business
Using my research, I created a fictional
porn world to tell a playful, sultry love story. If you’ve ever viewed or read
porn, I think you’ll enjoy it and hope you’ll check it out. But above all,
instead of shame, I want women to feel pride. Sex is natural. Porn can be
beautiful and pleasurable. So let’s discuss it! I definitely don’t have all the
answers. But instead of suppressing or hiding our primal desires, let’s talk
about sex (baby).L
PRINCE OF SIN – BOOK BLURB
When savvy gossip vlogger Morgan
Sidney gets assigned the breakup of porn’s most illustrious couple, she strikes
a deal with her boss—if she scores an exclusive, she’ll get promoted. So when
the famous and flirtatious Prince of Sin offers to fulfill her three wildest
sex fantasies, Morgan must decide whether she’ll keep things professional or
surrender and explore her sensual side.
As someone who despises the media, why is Chase Prince spending time with a
reporter? Clearly, he’s intrigued. But can a scorched sinner—and the biggest
smut star around—let a fierce civilian enter his domain?
Prince of Sin takes readers beyond Tinseltown’s glossy Hollywood Hills to
Silicone Valley—for a behind-the-scenes look at a sometimes bleak, always
Cass Ford began creating
smoldering male protagonists when she was five years old and convinced her aunt
that she had a hot and heavy kindergarten boyfriend. In grade school, she
penned tales on her parents’ typewriter and by middle school sold her own love
and gossip magazines to friends. As a preteen at sleepover camp, Cass often
told playful, steamy bedtime stories to her bunkmates.
After earning her Bachelor of Journalism degree and
several TV/film certificates, Cass continued to hone her passion for
storytelling as a television development producer. Born and raised in Canada,
she now resides in California.
Drowning in bad luck, Cari
doesn’t know where to turn when the unexpected happens. A loyal customer at her
Key West café has left her an inheritance. She hopes for cash to save her
restaurant but receives an old brass bottle that looks like a sex toy…and has
At six-four, he’s built like
a gladiator, has looks to die for, and oozes sexuality. He’s also a jinn.
Color her enthralled and
excited. Besides being one hot dude, he grants wishes, right?
Not for her. Ironclad
tradition demands he serve men, not women. Of course, if she wants to get down
and dirty with him, he’ll gladly oblige.
Let the battle of the sexes begin. Before long, their differences fall away as they indulge in every lusty desire, while falling hard and fast. Ah, paradise. Until trouble arrives, threatening to pull them apart forever…
She couldn’t wait a second
longer and twisted the knob to open the container.
The top didn’t budge.
She tried repeatedly until
she was breathless and sweating.
The fucking thing wouldn’t
turn. The nicks and dents she’d noticed earlier proved to be pry marks around
the top that resembled the crown on a man’s cock.
“Crap.” She wasn’t equipped
to break this thing or saw it open.
After searching her kitchen
for something to use, she settled on rubber gloves to add traction to her grip.
With her thighs holding the bottle, she wrenched the top as hard as her
The knob not only loosened,
but flew off—similar to a cork on a champagne bottle—and hit her wall, denting
There goes my security
By itself, the bottle
trembled between her thighs, the metal growing warmer. Not an unpleasant
feeling, but fucking weird.
Appalled, she flung the
container on her table.
It thudded dully against her
purse and shook violently.
“Shit, shit, shit!” The damn
thing was going to blow. Her spicy, rich cooking must have pushed Ethyl into an
earlier grave than she wanted, and this was payback. Terrified, Cari dropped to
her knees, desperate to crawl to the door and outside. Frozen in horror, she
hunkered behind a chair for protection.
Gold-and-black smoke poured
from the bottle.
I’m going to die.
Hard rain struck the windows,
but they didn’t blow out from an explosion.
Rather than the smoke rising
to the ceiling, it curled in a slow spiral then drifted away from the table to
Shuddering, she crab-walked
away from it.
The smoke followed and took
Feet appeared first, at least
a size fifteen, the toes well-formed and long. Muscular calves and thighs
materialized next, dark hairs hugging them, the complexion olive.
She stopped edging back and
leaned forward instead.
Upper thighs and narrow hips
emerged, a startling-white fabric tied around the groin area, the ends hiding
the good stuff. Not a loincloth exactly, more like a scarf exposing a rock-hard
The abs and chest were no
different, each sculpted, the small nipples a dark brown shade, similar in
color to refried beans. The pecs quivered on each new breath. However, there
was no navel.
This can’t be happening.
She raised her face.
The smoke broke apart,
floated to the ceiling, and disappeared.
Leaving a thirtysomething man
standing before her.
He opened his lushly lashed
Her breath caught. His irises
were closer to gold than hazel, his shoulder-length brown hair thick and wavy,
stubble outrageously sexy, mouth sensuous, one dark eyebrow arched at her.
He planted his hands on his
Holy fuck. A gladiator couldn’t have
owned more muscles, though they weren’t overdone like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s,
but totally male.
Her pussy creamed.
An odd reaction since this
couldn’t be real.
When the knob flew off the
bottle, it must have ricocheted off the wall and hit her head, causing her to
hallucinate this, or rather, him.
Only one way to find out. She
grabbed his calf. Its brawn and heat made her ears buzz.
Grinning lewdly, he flexed
his muscles and pressed into her touch.
This was no dream. She snatched
back her hand. “Who-who-who-who—” She shivered so badly, she couldn’t speak,
but had to. “Who are you? What are you?”
His eyebrows shot up to his
hairline. He lifted his chin. “You, a mere woman, dare to question or demand
anything from me?”
“Huh?” Not liking his sexist
attitude, she scrambled to her feet. At five-seven, she couldn’t match his
height. By her guestimate, he topped out at six-four and was the most perfect
man she’d ever seen, except for his patronizing gaze. Precisely what she didn’t
need. “Again, who or what are you? This is my place. My kitchen. Not yours.
“I answer only to my master.
Go on.” He gestured her away as Antonini had. “Fetch the man in charge.”
As if. Before she could slug him,
he pivoted and regarded her kitchen warily, as a one-percenter would, seeing
only how small and simple it was.
She couldn’t have cared less
if he found her digs lacking.
He next focused on her
If he gave them a pissy look
or said one unkind thing about her cooking, he wasn’t long for this world, even
if she didn’t know how to off him.
Bent at the waist, he sniffed
the treats and licked his lips.
Holding one buñuelo between his thumb and forefinger, he examined the fried dough carefully, licked the contours, then popped the treat into his mouth. As he chewed, his lids slid down and he moaned the way guys do during orgasms.
After her latest dating disaster, legal clerk Kerry Roberts decides to give up on finding the man of her dreams. In jest, her eldest son suggests she find a Sugar Daddy. Curious about the type of man willing to pay for companionship, she signs on to a web site dedicated to helping women connect with men-of-means.
Burned by a woman only after his money, corporate attorney Grayson Nichols doesn’t understand why several of his clients enjoy the price of paying for companionship. To check out the hype of a recommended website, he creates a profile, not imagining he’d come across a woman not fitting the usual profile, and yet expressing her intent to have a man take care of her. Grayson is determined to teach her a lesson—money can’t buy happiness.
After their first meeting, Grayson finds himself intrigued by and attracted to Kerry. He switches tactic and proposes an unusual arrangement. Will their unique approach to a relationship work, or will they let old wounds prevent them from finding what money can’t buy?
When money can’t buy happiness, love will always sweeten the deal.
A new video up on my YouTube channel talking about my journey within the medical field to discover the source of my physical pain. Along the way, I’m uncovering emotional patterns and dredging up emotions for me to examine and release. I discuss how I work through emotions and what I uncover along the way. Subscribe to my YouTube channel to keep up to date on what’s happening.
In this video, I am working through how I gave away my personal power to another’s perspective when deep down I knew I needed to advocate further for myself. I feel this is common in people in general. As a busy mom, I didn’t feel I had the capacity to deal with anything else, so I adjusted. Now I’m advocating for myself more than ever and not telling myself someone else’s story over my own.
If you love second chance at love romances, motorcycles, and a hero who’s HOT, dominant, and tender then check out Sensual Stranger, my erotic contemporary. Zach and Toni’s love story earned a Book of the Year award!
The book sounds hot! Please welcome author Tina Donahue as she spotlights her book – Sensual Stranger!
his life she came—wanting…willing…wanton
no ordinary morning when Toni Starr arrives at Zach’s garage. Flat broke, with
a past she won’t share, Toni’s instantly taken by such a potently virile man.
Direct and unashamed, she tells him she’s a motorcycle performance artist who
needs work and knows motors.
knows women, and Toni’s unlike any he’s met. Lushly sensuous, exceedingly
assured, she’d easily be his match in business and bed. A provocative challenge
that stirs him as nothing has since losing his wife. A chance he’s reluctant to
take, offering no more than a month’s employment, then she’ll have to be on her
The hours tick by. Each word and glance intensifies their denied yet escalating desire, forcing them to surrender to passion. Driven by carnal hunger, conquered by yearning, they face the unforeseen truth of Toni’s past and a future neither of them expected.
The door clicked then swung
inward, steam drifting out.
Unaware of his presence, Toni looked behind herself at something in the bath.
Her skin glowed from her shower and smelled of soap rather than her cologne.
Her stretchy blue camisole and plaid boxer shorts clung to her damp flesh.
Zach’s heart beat violently. The tee slipped from his hand.
He told himself to pick it up and race downstairs before she saw him.
His legs refused to move.
Moisture dripped from her freshly washed hair and rolled down her temple to her
cheek. Her thin satin strap fell over her shoulder.
Ignoring it, she lifted a brush to her hair, turned, and froze. Her gaze
slipped down his naked chest, paused at his fly, and settled on his erection.
Desire quickly replaced her surprise. Her lips parted. A gentle breath spilled
out. She looked at him, her gaze receptive and yearning.
He slipped his hand behind her neck and pushed her into the door.
The wood smacked the doorstop and vibrated, matching the sounds from his
Toni dropped her brush. It tapped across the linoleum.
Her skin was so ungodly hot, Zach thought he might die. He captured her mouth
and drove his tongue inside, filling her as much as he could, his kiss savage,
uncivilized, and punishing for making him wait…for making him want.
She suckled him deeper, her mouth tasting of peppermint toothpaste and female
lust. She ran her palms up his pecs, wreathed her arms over his shoulders, and
dug her nails into his back, imprisoning him with one leg wrapped around his.
Roused beyond control, he ground his stiffened cock into her mound and angled
his mouth for greater penetration.
They made sloppy, lewd, joyous sounds, telling each other and the world they
were alive, they deserved this, kissing brazenly for what might have been
minutes. When the initial fury ebbed, their passion turned tender and
exploring, stoking his desire even more.
Toni melted into him, her chest pumping with her strangled breaths.
Obsessive need sliced through him. He tore his mouth free, heaved air, and
stepped back, forcing her leg from around his.
Wearing a disapproving look, she glanced at the space separating them then him
pulling her arms from his shoulders.
She slumped. “What are you doing?”
“Shh.” He imprisoned her wrists in one hand, lifted her arms above her head,
and held them to the door. The wood shimmied again. On a rough breath, he
pushed her camisole up, exposing her right breast.
A faint sound rose from her throat, sounding like pure pleasure.
His legs went rubbery. Dizziness hit so hard he had to lower his head to stop
it. Her nipple was a paler pink than he would have guessed, tight and puckered,
waiting for his mouth.
He made his first lick unhurried, his tongue skimming the hard bud. His next
was hungered, his laps exploring the bumpy areola and the creamy skin beyond
Air whooshed from her. She sagged against the door.
He tightened his hold on her wrists and cupped her breast, loving its weight
and warmth, then drew her nipple into his mouth, sucked hard, soft, then hard
again, incapable of settling on either. He wanted to fuck her raw on the
bathroom floor, take her to the guest bedroom, tie her to the bed, and do
things with her he’d done with no other woman.
Finished with her nipple, he slanted his mouth over hers, accepting her tongue
and pulling it deep. He slid his hand over her boxer shorts and cradled her
mound. God, God, God. His ears rang from too much desire. Perspiration broke
out on his chest.
Toni moaned indecently, encouraging him to do more.
He dipped beneath the thin cotton fabric and touched her damp curls.
She spread her legs.
Good girl. As far as he was concerned, they could spend the entire day
After the book signing I held, I had more fan questions come in. I am taking the time to answer each one in video form and post them on IGTV and Youtube. Subscribe to my channels to stay up to date!
The first video I filmed focused on how I got into writing. After a health scare, I decided that I was the only one who could make my writing dream come true. I wasn’t very good, but I stuck with it and became an award-winning author.
The second video focuses on where I find inspiration and motivation to write. I talk about my internal motivation and discipline. If you have questions, please send them here in the comments, or through the contact form on my site. Thanks for checking it out!
I’m not one to make New Year’s resolutions as I resolve to work on myself daily. Over the Christmas holidays, I was triggered emotionally to see how I had held onto a harsh belief about myself and my body. In these Youtube videos, I talk about my resolution to see myself the way I see others – without judgment and with Love. I, also, filmed a segment outlining a loving ritual I have made a daily practice which has made a huge difference in my emotional health. Join me on my journey! Thanks for stopping by.
This book was previously published. It has been re-edited, re-formatted, and re-released. Thank you to eXtasy Books for giving this series a home and breathing new life into a great story. When I first wrote them, I was at a very different place in my life. Having the chance to re-write the characters and showcase my growth as an author has been an honor. This book in particular hits the heart in some deep places. I hope readers will love their story, and laugh and cry along with Shelley and Jack. Available now from eXtasy Books!
What will they risk to achieve the perfect score?
Fun-loving and free-spirited Shelley Longstaff summons her iron will to stand up to Jacques Fortier when he demands she accept his daughter into the gymnastics program, or he will sue.
Jacques Fortier is at his wits end with his daughter for her unsportsmanlike behavior. In his frustration, he threatens to sue Shelley and the club for discrimination if they don’t accept her for training.
As Shelley and Jack discuss terms of Anna’s acceptance into training, Shelley discovers a tragedy that is causing a rift between father and daughter. When Jack asks for a favor, Shelley finds herself hard pressed to refuse.
When a crisis of teenage proportions threatens their relationship, will they retreat, or risk everything for the chance to achieve The Perfect Score?
“If I find out you’re lying about your program being full, I’ll sue both you and this club.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Shelley Longstaff stared at the giant of a man bracing himself on the front edge of her desk. She rose from her chair, neck cramping in order to maintain eye contact. Good God, he’s tall. Drawing herself up to her full height—all five feet four inches—she prepared for battle.
Cocking his head to the side, he gave Shelley a silky smile. “Try me.”
Shelley’s eyes narrowed at his arrogant attitude. The threat of a lawsuit didn’t bode well for her future as head coach of the club. How had she ended up in this impossible position? This is all Claire’s fault. She recommended me for head coach. She thought I could do it. A small voice laughed inside her head. You wanted this job, chickie. And you’re damn good at it. Don’t let Mr. Jolly Green intimidate you. You have the upper hand.
To calm the butterflies battering her insides, she drew in a deep breath which brought the scent of his cologne to her nostrils. A queer feeling shot through her stomach. Damn! What is that? She took a moment to study him. The suit he wore screamed money. Close-cropped black hair, peppered gray at the sides, the square angle of his jaw, perfect nose, and nearly black eyes surrounded by thick dark lashes, made the breath clog in her chest. Handsome for an older dude.
Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the desk, fighting the hormonal surge in her body. Shelley pursed her lips together and blinked. He threatened to sue me, remember?
His gaze pierced hers. Sexy or evil? Sexy with a hint of ‘I don’t take no for an answer.’ Without breaking eye contact, she returned the stare, not one to back down from a challenge.
Jacques Fortier spoke through clenched teeth. “One more time—is your program full?”
Yes. She practiced the lie in her head, but the deepness of his voice washed over her like a wave drowning a surfer. What is wrong with me? Concentrate!
When she didn’t respond immediately, he went on. “You can’t refuse my daughter the right to train here. This club is run by a board of directors. It’s not a private facility.” He paused, no doubt for effect, but his voice held a note of defeat when he spoke again. “Besides, this club is our last resort.”
Damn. He had a point. Four points actually, and with his last statement, she felt a little sorry for him.
This would be Anna Fortier’s fourth club in two years. Shelley had long ago been convinced it wasn’t the clubs—it was the girl. Shelley folded her arms over her chest. “Seems to me that if our club is your last resort—you’d be a little kinder in your demand.”
He hung his head in defeat. Maybe it would finally sink in that his daughter wasn’t elite material. Anna took more time than allowed during warm-ups at competition, she had no sense of sportsmanship, rarely smiled, and gossip about her poor training habits had spread far and wide. Shelley didn’t want to ruin the positive gym atmosphere here by admitting Anna.
She lifted her chin. “I’m sorry Mr. Fortier, we are not admitting gymnasts of Anna’s caliber at this time,” she restated. “And the club has the right to turn away potential gymnasts if the program the gymnast is seeking to enter is full.”
Please accept my half-truth and walk away. Her group only had six gymnasts in it. Technically she could accept Anna into the program—she just didn’t want to. Crap. She’d always been a lousy poker player. Would he believe her or call her bluff?
He rewarded her statement with an eye roll. “Anna always accuses me of not listening.” Relaxing back in his chair, he pulled up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing his lean, muscled forearms.
Based on the sight, she wondered what the rest of his body looked like. She gave herself a mental head shake. This wasn’t a date. It was a business meeting, and she had no business thinking those things.
Shelley put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Whether or not you listen isn’t my business. It’s her perception that you don’t. From personal experience, you certainly don’t take no for an answer. Threatening to sue me is a case in point.”
He dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “I wouldn’t have gone through with it. You caught me off-guard when you didn’t jump at the chance to train my daughter. Knee-jerk reaction.”
“You had me fooled.” She rested her forearms on the table. “Since Anna has assured me what she told me in confidence today is something you’re already aware of, I see no reason to bore you with the details. I’d like a chance to work with her without having to run to you and report every detail.”
He picked up his water glass, and took a long sip, considering her request. “You’ve agreed to train her?”
She nodded. “Yes. I think she and I have come to an agreement.”
“All right,” he conceded. “I’ll respect the request for now.”
Sitting across the table from him didn’t feel as awkward as she thought it would. She figured now would be as good a time as any to broach the subject of his deceased wife. “Tell me about Anna’s mother. I understand she’s—”
Shocked at the brusque manner in which he’d delivered the news, she stammered to find a reply. “I-I’m sorry.”
He studied the table top rather than looking at her. “I gather you didn’t know.”
Have a short story or novel you’d like to tell from beginning to THE END? Always wanted to write a book but weren’t sure how?
Join award-winning author Kellie Kamryn for a morning of creativity! Back with her popular workshop, she will cover basic plotting, breaking through creative blocks, self editing, dialogue, and sharing other writing resources to build your author toolbox. Space is limited so register early!
Participants may bring a story they are currently working on, or their idea to turn into a book. Please bring a notebook, pen, laptop, or other device to take notes or work on your manuscript. Appropriate for ages 15+. This workshop is not genre specific. Bring your best ideas and be motivated to create more!
Date: Saturday, December 1
Deadline to register: November 28
Location: Cre8ery Gallery and Studio – 125 Adelaide St., Winnipeg
To register, email: email@example.com
Payment must accompany registration and can be made through Paypal or eTransfer: firstname.lastname@example.org or fill out the content form on my website.
(Refunds will not be given after November 28. If paying by eTransfer, use the password: writing) For other payment options, please contact Kellie at the above email.
Parking is two hours paid, then two hours complimentary in the downtown area.
I grew up listening to folk tales my father and nannies told either to entertain us children or to send home a message. These narratives I kept with me and finally, I wrote them down in a journal way back when I kept one. Going through junk led to a long forgotten box and in it was the journal. Reading over the stories of romance, science fiction and horror I had taken time to put to paper, brought to light that these were tales I never met in my readings.
The tales I write are fictional but all of them are based on what I grew up with and still dream about. That they have an M/M twist is simply for my pleasure. And I hope, yours as well.
When the hunter becomes the hunted, the only thing left to do is run.
Lieutenant Marcus Kildud and his men are rangers for hire. They specialize in insertion, extraction, escape, and evasion. He answers an urgent request from the Planet Terrus’ Prelate, the Lord Fulsam, whose son has disappeared and is presumed dead.
Their task is to find the ring the Prelate’s son wore. The promised compensation and bonus offered are enough to make this their team’s final mission.
What they meet in the forest is something none of them have ever encountered before. Marcus now faces the unimaginable. He realizes too late that sometimes, running away may be the only option left to stay alive.
Note: This work has been previously published but has been reworked, re-edited, and expanded.
Marcus gave a signal, and again Bruga led the way. They had only gone a few meters when Bruga stopped once more and looked down. He pointed to a piece of bloodied material next to a broken knife. Next to it was a boot. Marcus moved closer and looked down. He gritted his teeth and looked up to meet Bruga’s gaze.
“What is it?” Franco stepped up beside Marcus. He pulled out an evidence bag from one of his pockets.
“See for yourself,” Marcus said with a grimace. He stepped back and began inspecting the ground around them.
“Ah, fuck,” Franco said, picking up the boot. Marcus didn’t have to look his direction to see what Franco held in his hand. The image had been burned into his brain. The boot still had a severed foot inside it, cut off at what appeared to be the ankle of the unfortunate owner.
“No, sleep isn’t what I had in mind,” Marcus said. He took Malik’s face between his hands and looked deeply into his dark chocolate eyes. Behind the impish grin, he saw the flicker of anticipation. He smiled at the young man’s cheek. How dare Malik? Had he no respect for Marcus’ rank and position? “I do promise to make the wait as enjoyable as I can, Malik.”
Malik’s expression turned sober. “Oh, I hope you will, Marcus. Or else, I will have to suspect that your reputation is purely made up or some exaggerated rumor.”
Marcus laughed with delight at Malik’s wit. “I think you’ll have the opportunity to decide for yourself. Now, come to bed.”