Be My Guest On Tuesday: Christina Mandara And The Velvet Chair

tuesdayGood morning everyone and have a happy Valentine’s Day if you celebrate it. One of the things that annoy me most about the traditional happily ever after is that it always has to be about marriage. To be more precise, wedding. As if that is the happiest point in anyone’s life. So, it’s a great pleasure to invite as my guest the lovely Christina Mandara and her latest novel, The Velvet Chair. In her world wedding is not the end, it’s simply the beginning of what promises to be one helluva twisted fun. Join Mark Matthews and Jennifer Redcliff down the aisle and prepare for all the wicked things he’d do to his bride. If you’re bold and daring enough you might even join Ms. Mandara’s giveaway competition so you’d get a chance to win some delicious prizes.


The Velvet Chair is Book One in a Dark Erotica Series called ‘Velvet Lies.’


My name is Mark Matthews. I own half of London, and the part I don’t own, I’m working on.

Life was all going swimmingly well until Michael Redcliff entered my life, demanding that I marry his daughter. Actually, swap demand for blackmail. He’s got goods on me that I want no one else to see, so for the time being I need to be his little lapdog.

I’ll marry his daughter. I’ll give him all the status, money and power he can handle… for as long as it takes me to get a divorce. You see, I can’t renege on our little arrangement – but she can. I give her a week. One week and she’ll be screaming the place down for her legal counsel.

Excerpt – Jennifer

sexy blond in beige silk dress sitting on the black armchairMy hands were visibly shaking. Flexing my fingers repeatedly, I tried to still the tremors, but they were not to be subdued. It was hardly surprising. Today was the day I walked up the aisle and married… a monster. I was under no illusions that Mark Matthews would forgive me for what had happened, and I could hardly blame him. He’d been manipulated and sexually tortured until he could take no more, and then he’d been neatly cornered. He might have agreed to my father’s demands, but he’d come snapping and biting, feral as a wolf.

I sighed. Today was supposed to be a magical day – every little girl’s fantasy. A gigantic cathedral, a sea of flowers, a big fancy dress, and the man of my dreams. I’d imagined it would be filled with tears of happiness and protestations of love. How stupid was I?

Inhaling a shaky breath, I wondered what Mark would do with me. Having always been the sacrificial lamb in this family, today I was being sent off to the slaughterhouse. When I’d mentioned this to Michael, I’d refused to call him ‘Dad’ a long time ago, he’d laughed and told me to stop being so melodramatic. As if that made me feel any better. Dear old Dad couldn’t care less whether I lived or died, so I didn’t waste my breath trying to plead with him. All I had to do was play my part in this charade and he would be happy. I needed to keep Michael happy at all costs. The trouble was, in order to play my part, Matthews had to trust me, and I had a feeling that trying to coax that emotion out of him was going to be almost as impossible as trying to convince the Queen of England to relinquish her throne. Matthews wasn’t the sort to trust easily, and now that I had lost what little ground I had gained with him, I would be back to square one. Wrong, I thought grimly. I was going to be at least twenty stories below square one, trying to claw my way out with nothing more than my bare fingernails. Facing up to facts, I stifled a sob. The man was going to annihilate me.


Excerpt – Mark

As we pulled out of the Savoy’s car park, Jennifer was a mess. I had little sympathy for her. Each heartbeat that tore through my chest was full of fire, which spat sparks and burned like acid. I was sitting next to a traitor. My body throbbed with emotion, and not the good kind.

I had to admit the dress she’d changed into, just a tiny part of the massive trousseau that was now being shipped to my estate, was rather distracting. It was designed in a glistening oyster silk that caught the light every time she moved. It was seductive enough without the two splits that ran up the side of her thighs, and when she’d seated herself in my car, revealing a vast expanse of soft creamy flesh, my blood pressure had taken a direct hit.

My temper was already simmering in a large saucepan full of resentment, but that turned up the heat considerably. I did not want to be attracted to Redcliff’s daughter. I wanted to abhor her with all that was holy. Desire would weaken my anger, and that must not be allowed to happen. I needed to have a stern talk with my overactive libido and let it know who was boss around these parts.

Little did Miss Redcliff know, but she wouldn’t be requiring clothes for the duration of her stay. I would thoughtfully be providing her with all sorts of novel uniforms, and when she began to bore me, she could just go around naked. I’d decided to train her up to be a sex slave extraordinaire, and it was going to be an exacting and rigorous process. She’d be allowed six hours of sleep a day, and the rest of her hours would be accounted for. Cooking, cleaning, ironing, servicing me, pleasing me, attending to her own personal fitness regime, and some more ‘standard’ training sessions.

Failure to comply with her new routine would produce punishments the likes of which she had never experienced. After her first misdemeanour had been dealt with, I didn’t think there would be many more. I was in bastard-mode, and the girl was going to know about it. She had just become my property and I would deal with her however I saw fit. The mark of my ownership would be indelibly printed on her soul by the time I’d finished with her. The damn woman was going to fear the sound of my footsteps, her body would shrink away from me every time I approached her and she would learn to obey my every whisper or suffer the consequences.

My lawyer had already drawn up two sets of papers, one for an annulment and the others pertained to our divorce. It would probably take all the fun out of the arrangement if Jennifer opted for an annulment, so I didn’t intend to scare her witless in the first few days, but I fully expected the divorce papers to be completed inside of a week. I just needed to push the woman to her absolute limit, and then smash her body into the next dimension. If there was one thing I was good at, it was psychological and physical torture. Okay, so that might be two things. In any case, I’d get those papers signed, sealed, and delivered back to Michael Redcliff before the week was out. Piece of cake.


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A little bit about C.P. Mandara:

aa112.jpgChristina Mandara is a USA TODAY bestselling author and tends to write dark romance with lashings of kinky naughtiness. Her favourite pastime is travelling, and if it involves sun, sea and… sand then it’s all good.

In her spare time she’s usually cuddled up with a good book, exploring the countryside or baking in the kitchen. In fact, she loves her kitchen so much she’s one of few woman who wouldn’t mind being tied to it! Her first and foremost love is writing, however, and more often than not you’ll find her on a laptop spinning tales of romance, erotica or dark, paranormal fantasies.

She’s a big fan of BDSM in all of its glorious forms, and her favourite item in the toy closet (a box simply isn’t big enough) is her riding crop.





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Be My Guest On Tuesday: Lisette Kristensen and The Dark Desire Series Boxed Set


Welcome to the afternoon edition of Be My Guest On Tuesday. In case you missed Felicity Brandon‘s morning appearance, you can read hot excerpts of her historical novel Viking’s Conquest  here. Now I’d like to greet another lady with a wicked imagination, Lisette Kristensen. She is an avid explorer of the dark side of BDSM, a writer of a modern day, character-driven “bodice rippers”. If you haven’t met Lisette and her writing now is the time for that. Her series Dark Desire, a boxed set of 4 books, is currently available for the reduced price of $1.50 from $2.99. You can claim your copy today on Smashwords.

Dark Desire Series, Four Books 


Lisette Kristensen



Unveiling Façade

“All fours.”

The strength of his voice coursed through her. She dropped into position. “Spread open your thighs.” Without thought she opened herself, feeling the warm air float over her soaked sex. His fingernails raked along her spine, causing her stomach to knot until they reached her shoulders. Trying to fathom everything around her, the platform began to move. A slow turning effect that startled her. She looked at the men seated before her. Mask hid their identities, but what they wanted with her was a mystery, that alone made her heart thunder with anticipation.

The dais kept turning; she couldn’t comprehend what would happen next. It didn’t take long. The first strange noise behind her, led to a burn to her backside, like she had never felt before. Her eyes bulged, and before she could yelp, another blow ripped across her backside. Her ass felt on fire, then another strike hit her aching ass. The pain was excruciating at first. Tears welled in her eyes, trying to comprehend what felt like pleasure racing up her spine. A part of her wanted it to stop; the desire to sob was overwhelming, but each stroke brought a pain-pleasure confusion that seized her soul.

Facade’s Retribution

“He grunted harder now as each stroke came faster. The blows rang deeper into her soul, every sense that poured through her was like tiny hot daggers poking her. Every thought worry or concern evaporated. A change inside her swept in, thoughts drifted into a place, like a growing mist, ethereal and warm. Her body flailed, sweat trickled in rivulets over her welted flesh.”

Facade’s Surrender

Whoever wielded the belt had a strong arm. The lashes were heavy, and the leather lacquered her backside raw. The pain rippled through her body. Her eyes remained closed, to let the sensations control her feelings.  Jocelyn let it go, letting her depraved soul take over, funneling the dark bliss to her core.

Each blow across her sore ass brought a thickening to her sex. Oh, how she wanted to wiggle it at them, to tease them to fuck her insane.  Jocelyn kicked into a sensual overdrive; the wish to be used came faster. The signals of deviancy were present under the surface. Soon, that depravity would rise to the surface.

The slaps of leather slowed; she figured the man grew tired.  She could sense the men teasing him; they called him Dieter.  Jocelyn tried to peek to get a good view.  Her vision was blocked, but she could make out parts of him. No shirt, large cock jutting out through his jeans. Muscles layered over his chest and abs.  Her body tingled, her sex slathering with rampant need.  She wanted to scream, “Fuck me!”. Everything blistered hot, aching for this party to get started.

She tried to watch, but her eyes had been blocked by a black cock.  It was gigantic.  Where did it come from? She’d not seen a black man before. Thick dark fingers wrapped onto it, waving it back and forth over her face.  She sighed, relishing the silky texture of it.  The veins throbbed along her cheek, the gorged head brushing her lips.  A droplet of his anticipation coated her chin.  Jocelyn wanted that monster stuffed into her mouth.  The thought of sucking his beast of a prick made her delirious.

Instinctively her fingers lifted from the table. Fingernails danced magically down the shaft.  His hips nudged forward, enticing her, seducing her wantonness.  Jocelyn spread her mouth and devoured his shaft. The second her lips caressed his cock; he slammed forward with his hips. Nailing his big cock down her throat. She gagged, spit drooling down her chin.  She heard the men cheer, and that only egged on her desires.

Jocelyn found that place of relaxation, letting him fuck her face the way he wanted it. He stroked his prick ruthlessly into her mouth. She wouldn’t be out done. She sucked on it hard, almost biting that thick knob.  Her fingers found his balls, massive in their own right. They tightened around them, squeezing them as he plundered her mouth. Jocelyn heard the groans with each ramming thrust.

So lost in sucking his black cock, it took a moment for her senses to register the shoving of another cock into her pussy.  It too was thick. She pushed her hips up, to take it all the way. She went crazy to the feelings that consumed her. Her body relished it, craved every delicious raping of her flesh.  Two cocks hammered at her with a fury: one almost at the breaking point in her mouth and the other finding his groove in her sopping sex.

The darkness of pleasure cloaked her; they couldn’t hurt her. The hedonistic delights took over all her senses. She was back on that magic carpet of lust. She sucked the black meat with a fury, fingernails combing his balls. They twitched to her touch; her tongue flattened out to the underside of his shaft. Jocelyn took pleasure in feeling is cum vein filling up, stiffening an already hardened cock. The first sprinkles of his seed coated her mouth.

A cock riding her writhing snatch drove her into another direction.  The mingling of divergent sensations pushed her to a breaking point. Every part of her sparked the wick lit and was ready to explode.  Her ass throbbed from the belt, and these two cocks nailed her dark soul to the plank of wicked delights.

The tidal wave of her need now rose to a crushing desire.  Her pussy shuddered, no resistance in its own wants.  She tried to cry out, moan, anything but couldn’t. Her mouth smothered with thick cum; his cock shattered at the same time she did. Gulping his hot seed, she tried to keep up with the intensity of his cumming.

Everything inside Jocelyn sheared off into another plane. Her body quivered, her sex collapsed around the intruding prick. She didn’t care what man plundered her pussy; she wanted more of it. Her hips wiggled, begging for more of the assault of cock.  Her eyes opened to a blur of movement. They circled her, stroking their cocks. Jocelyn blinked, trying to focus but the hard thrust behind her pulled her back into the sexual deviancy that consumed her.

She groaned out loud when his hands smacked her tender ass.  His cock ram-rodded her pussy, with her shoving back to get it all. She craved this man, unseen, unknown, but how he took her. The ravaging took over her senses; again she drifted into that place of salacious need. Jocelyn didn’t hold back; her pussy clenched around the plunging shaft that buried to her core. She thrashed to the table, out of control as another orgasm swept over her like a wave.


Facade’s Salvation Teaser Book Four

 She heard Devin laugh in that mocking tone.  Jocelyn was pissed, at herself for being careless mooning over Stafford.  She admonished herself for being stupid.  Her eyes wheeled back to Devin. Spotting the arrogant pricks pleasure in what he had done.  Now the game was on. Her body slowly took back control, the dark winds of need whipped through.  The next blow slapped hard against her breast.  That strike sent her breast swaying, and the weights clashed together sending a ripple effect into her aching nipples. That sensation was wicked. The multiple effects where hard to fathom. Pain, misery, and torture filled her soul.

Every whack of the crop delivered various bolts of pain into her body.  Her pussy ached to feel it, when it landed to her clit she flailed like a whore getting fucked. Her back couldn’t stay off the tines of wire.  Those sharp points devoured her back, eating her flesh like cannibals.  Each spike caressed a part of her. Drawing a deeper wantonness within her, it is her desires would focus. The crop and nipples clamps were like beacons to her darkest desires.

Jocelyn now found her spot. Eyes closed. Letting the depravity take over. She crossed into that space of hedonism where the pain became the magic carpet of pleasure. She no longer cared what Devin did; she wanted to scream at him to hit her harder, pull her deeper into the thundering waves of bleakness.

Her back and ass rode the wall of wire, letting the tines nourish themselves as the crop slapped her clit to the breaking point. Jocelyn held nothing back. She whimpered, writhed and moaned wantonly as each sensation tripped her spirit into a place of depraved peace.  Like all her scenes, the men tuned out, the whole focus on those sparks of pain that sent Jocelyn reeling into the abyss of her own.

Buy Now on Smashwords


avatarI started writing in 2009 on a dare by a friend.  I am a huge “bodice ripper” fan of Historical Romance. Still read it all the time, in fact, I am mired in a long series of books by Barbara Devlin.  Anyway, I was bitching there was not enough sex in them, she said, well do better loudmouth.

The result is we both won. I did write a short story, Unveiling Façade, but it was not historical romance.  I had no patience to do the research and all that. So, dove into writing dark erotica, or as my friend would say “glorified porn.”  I took Unveiling Façade and sold it to a small publishing house and did okay. They closed, sold my rights to another house which sadly did nothing with it. The rights have reverted to me, and I have self-published it.

One last note on Historical Romance. There is one wicked author that writes them. Jess Michaels. She has several different series running, and some are not erotic enough. But she does have some titles that are hot hot! 

Back to dark filth …

I had intended to leave it as a one off, short story, but you fans wanted more, and that resulted in the four book series, called Dark Desire.

I like to write stories of a flawed woman, full of insecurities, find their personal awakening in the dark world of BDSM.  Slowly as she takes this journey and is challenged by an assortment of evil/wicked men. She will find her true power in being a pain slut, slave or deep submission.  A place where no man can hurt her and where she has the ultimate control.  

Her new world is tested time and again as she runs into situations that would strain even the darkest of women.  Until one man comes into her life to steal her heart, or does he?  Even the most depraved woman wants some romance, right?

Thank you for joining me this afternoon and meeting Lisette, her flawed leading ladies and wicked heroes. In the evening you’d get to know my last guest, the lovely debutante Bree Lewandowski, and her ballet dancer romance novel, Under Winter Lights.

Review of Torn: A Dark BDSM Romance Novel (Shattered Lives Book 1) by Lexie Syrah


Author: Lexie Syrah

Genre: Dark Erotica, Romance

Purchase link:

My rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Blurb: “That’s what love is, isn’t it? It’s when you go to sleep every night hoping that you are less happy than your lover; it’s hoping that you’ve given everything you could to them so that their day could be just a tiny bit better.”

I was so innocent then. So naïve. I thought that I’d been hardened by my time living on the streets, but I’d had no idea how broken I could become. My story is a hard one, full of hope, grief, love, and anger, but it’s a story that needs to be told.

Continue reading “Review of Torn: A Dark BDSM Romance Novel (Shattered Lives Book 1) by Lexie Syrah”