New Writer's Week: Lily Harlem

Hi Elise,

Thanks so much for inviting me over to your blog today, I’m thrilled to be here. Since we’ve only just met I’ll start by telling you a little about myself.

I live in the UK with Mr Harlem and several pets, all rescued, and when I’m not writing I love to walk on the beach, enjoy fine food and wine and, of course, read. I haven’t always been an author. I’m a trained nurse and worked for several years in a busy London trauma unit. The adrenaline ran high, the shifts were grueling and there was always something exciting going on. I loved it, but was happy to slow down when Mr H had a job offer way out of the city. That was when I became gripped by writing.

I attended a local creative writing course, as a way to make friends as much as anything as I wasn’t nursing any more, and one day I stumbled across a competition. It wasn’t any old competition, it was a creative writing contest, but more than that it was for a sexy story ‘something to get us hot and bothered’ it said on the entry guidelines. I hadn’t written anything saucy before, though I had read plenty of erotic romance. I blushed the whole way through writing Madam President. Eventually, after checking for spelling mistakes so many times my vision had blurred, I hit send.

I didn’t think much more of it, so you can imagine my surprise when a few weeks later I got a phone call to tell me I’d won first place! I was delighted, thrilled. Love Honey (the contest organisers) said ‘where on earth did you get that idea from?’ ‘I don’t know,’ I replied, ‘I just thought who would be the most inappropriate couple to be having an affair and getting down and dirty at work?’ – the first female president of the USA and the British PM, in the Oval Office was what came to me. You can read the story for free on my website. It was a blast to write!

So that was how I became an erotic romance author, the genre found me! I then went on to have stories published in Best Women’s Erotica, Sex in the City and Orgasmic to name a few. Then I had longer stories contracted on both sides of the Atlantic with Ellora’s Cave and Total-E-Bound. That was when I really started writing, a lot, and realised that I’d found a new career.

The great thing about writing for me now is that I’m my own boss. Yes I have deadlines for edits and manuscripts, but I can take time off whenever I need to. Write during whichever part of the day suits me – sometimes I like to sit in my pyjama’s drinking tea in the morning, other times I prefer to wait to the end of the day, light the fire, sip a glass of wine and then let the story flow from my fingertips.

Often I write ménage a trois novels, in fact I blog twice monthly on When One Is Not Enough. I really enjoy the dynamics of three people in a relationship. It’s not just the bedroom scenes that are enormous fun to dream up, it is also the way in which a threesome works on an everyday basis, within the home and within society. My first full-length book at Ellora’s Cave was Shared. Shared is a M/F/M story set in Cardiff, Wales. The characters are all damaged, honest and very much need one another. I had lots of great reviews for this book and so decided to write the sequel, Shared Too. That novel took on more complex issue within the happy threesome. I posed the question of what happens when someone in the relationship wants a little bit more? Want to be shared, too. Reviews were mixed for this book, some people didn’t like the happy ever after being rocked, others had issues with another person coming into the relationship. But overall it went down well and it was something I had to write, because not only do people not always behave as they should, equally no marriage/relationship runs along on an even keel year after year. Every couple, or threesome, has rocky moments, problems they have to face, battles to fight, and I wanted to work through all of that in the ménage a trois situation.

My most recent release is also a ménage novel. Its called The Glass Knot and is available on Amazon.

 Again I played around with what is normally expected in these books and used a happily married gay couple as the foundation for the story. A woman, Laura, is then introduced into the relationship by one of the men and… actually it is probably easier for you to read the blurb.

What’s a girl to do when the guy she falls for is married to another man?

This is exactly what happened to me. Seeing Josh Kendal stroll out of the Mediterranean Sea wearing tight navy swim trunks and looking like a hot new James Bond was a truly delicious moment. Catching sight of his wedding ring was like a kick in the shin and meeting his gorgeous husband, phew, that was enough to make any girl groan at the cruel joke God was playing on her.

But all was not as it seemed, and when Josh needed a woman to sort out a ‘delicate predicament’ I was the one for the job – heck, what did I have to lose? Certainly not as much as him, literally.

Trouble is, emotions always get tangled, loyalties can’t help but be divided and with a night of memories so hot they'd have the devil sweating, there was only one thing for it—it was time to get honest, fight for what I wanted despite society’s constraints and open my heart to the people it needed most.

I really enjoyed writing The Glass Knot, partly because I ended up with two heart-stoppingly gorgeous heroes, but also because again, I was tackling something that was a little out there, a bit different and I do love a challenge! Also I set the story, in the majority, in the beautiful Cotswolds, so whilst I was writing I really did feel like I was there amongst the rolling hills and the gorgeous sandstone cottages. I adore visiting this part of the UK and often Mr H and I book a bed and breakfast and go walking there. The cute country pubs are just lovely and there is such a nice relaxed pace of life.

So what am I up to now? Well I’m busy on edits for Teamwork (yep, another ménage) which is the 4th book in my Hot Ice series. Hot Ice is all about the sinfully bad, but deliciously good boys of the ice! These books are stand alone novels but if read in sequence the hero of the next book is introduced briefly in the previous one. They are seriously sexy, very romantic and the strong women who tame these athletes are my favourite sort of heroines.

Also I’m eagerly awaiting a release date for a co-author – written with the ever awesome Natalie Dae called Anything For Him. This is my first book with Mischief at Harper Collins and I’m very excited.

Next month sees my first illustrated story hit the shelves. It’s in an anthology called The 7 Deadly Sins, and will be published by Sweetmeat Press. The 7 Deadly Sins anthology came about very late at night over several bottles of wine in a hotel in Bristol, UK. I was with six other Brit authors, chatting about our day at Eroticon (a conference for writers and bloggers of erotica) and we had an idea to each take a deadly sin and write a story about it, compiling them all into an anthology – I got Envy, yay! – Sweetmeat Press then loved the idea and offered to illustrate the stories. I’m so looking forward to seeing my naughty tale come to life in a picture. It’s going to be off the scale hot!

I love to hear from readers and other authors. Feel free to follow me on Twitter, Pinterest, or befriend me on Facebook. Here are my links

Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/
Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/
Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/lily_harlem
Facebook http://en-gb.facebook.com/people/Lily-Harlem/100003519563064
Facebook author page http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lily-Harlem-author-page/200182030094568
Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/
Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem

And I will leave you with an excerpt from Scored  which is a sexy soccer novel starring the captain of the England football team. This point in the book is when Nicki and Lewis have arranged a secret meeting in the Cathedral in Donetsk, prior to his match.

Blurb for Scored

Okay, so I eat, sleep and breathe football and reporting the beautiful game is my dream career. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have time for a major crush on the England captain, Lewis Tate. The bloke is sex on legs, hot with a capital H. Add in his awe-inspiring talent, his brooding good looks and what’s not to lust after?

So my excitement is sky-high as I set off with the official press team to cover England’s battle for the European Cup. But when a series of unfortunate, or as it turns out fortunate events, attracts Tate’s attention my way, who am I to say no?

Add in a misogynistic manager, an over-zealous colleague, two blue silk ties and some incredible ball-handling skills and it becomes clear the road to victory, for me, will be an intensely erotic journey. Determined to savor every moment, I hang onto my sanity as best I can while living the fantasy and wondering if it can ever become reality. Because once Lewis Tate has taken me to heaven and back, its clear no one else will ever compare.

Excerpt

“Oh, it is you,” I said on a sigh and sat down.
He removed his glasses. “Well if you had to get this close to realize then my crude attempt at disguise is obviously working.” His voice was low and hushed.
“I thought you might be a tramp or something, having a snooze.” I spoke equally quietly.
“I’m sure Gucci would love to know that about their new range of casual sportswear.” He smiled and his face softened. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Not bad.” He glanced at the gap between us. “Better if you would sit closer.”
I slid my bum along the wood until my shoulder brushed his. He reached for my hand, held it, palm up, and traced a circle at the center.
Renewed longing sped through me as I was treated to a flashback of him holding my breast. How he’d touched me with just the right amount of pressure, tweaked my nipple with just the right degree of tension. How we’d been so rudely interrupted…
I tried and failed to suppress a small sigh.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. How did you get on with Fellows? Did he buy your story about you being in the bathroom?”
“Yeah, I think so, but he’s keeping a pretty tight rein on everyone at the moment. He’s a goddamn control freak.”
“He’s just doing his job.”
“That’s very understanding of you, considering.”
“Considering what? The way he spoke to me in the bar or the way he made you leave just when things were getting hot between us.”
He raised one brow. “Things were getting pretty hot, weren’t they? I left feeling like a man in the desert who’d just had his water bottle taken away.”
“I know what you mean.” I looked at his legs, his thick strong thighs resting over the seat of the pew, his jeans a little faded in all the right places. “When are you going to Kiev?”
“Later today. We’re flying up. You?”
“I’m catching the evening train. I’ve got some cheap place booked once I get there. Should be okay just for two nights. I’m there to see you thrash Sweden not wallow in luxury.”
“I wish I could get you into our hotel.”
I rested my other hand on his forearm, felt hard tendons and heat beneath the super-soft material of the hoody. “I think we were lucky to get what we had. I knew it wouldn’t take long for them to move you back into your suite.”
“It’s nice, the new room. Perhaps you’d like to see it when we get back to Donetsk.”
“And how would I be able to do that?” I couldn’t keep the incredulousness from my tone.
He paused for a second. Cocked his head. “You forget, Nicky, I am a man who gets what he wants.”
I swallowed tightly. The determination in his eyes, the way his jaw had set, sent a thrilling shiver of anticipation through me. “And you want…?”
He stroked the back of his index finger down my cheek then threaded his fingers into my hair and held the back of my head. “I want you, Nicky. Don’t you get that? I want you with me, next to me, in my bed, in my pool. I want to get to know everything about you.”
An emotion scarily like fear bubbled within me. This dream was just too perfect. I didn’t want it to pop. It would send me reeling, tumbling into oblivion. I wasn’t sure how I would pick up the pieces. Who would ever compare to Lewis Tate? Was I being crazy to listen to him speak this way? Making me feel like I was the only girl for him?
I had to know. The sooner it was out in the open the better. Because the longer I let him make me believe I was special the harder it would be when I realized I didn’t mean anything to him. “But why? Why would you want me when you can have anyone? There are a million women out there who would happily throw themselves at your feet”
He frowned. “But I don’t know them and I don’t care about them.”
“But how can you not?”
“Because you’re the first real woman I’ve met in a long time. You’re not pretending to be something you’re not and that appeals to me.” He leaned closer, his cologne infiltrating my nostrils and threatening to remove my ability to think straight. “A lot.”
“But I’m just Nicky Thomas, sports journalist. I come from Stoke and have a middle-class, unremarkable background. Why would someone as amazing as you, with all your footballing credentials, want me?”
He shook his head and appeared bemused. “What does football have to do with me admiring your professionalism, being comfortable with who you are and fighting for what you want?” He paused. “You do still like me, don’t you?”
I nodded. Unable to trust myself to speak and gush about just how much I liked him. How much I would like to cover him in whipped cream, sprinkles and chocolate drops and spend an entire day eating it off him.
“Good,” he said. “Because if you can just cope with this craziness for a little while longer, in few weeks the tournament will be over and we won’t have to sneak around.”
“You mean—”
He brushed his lips over mine. “Yes, honey, I mean this is just the start of something. Well, it is for me anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone who’s been my last thought as I’ve gone to sleep and my first thought each morning.”
Oh, fuck. Now he’s got me.
I became a puddle of romantic ideals falling toward him. Didn’t he know what kind of effect sentiments like that had on a girl? I reached for his shoulders, pressed my body to his and allowed him to kiss me into a stupor of longing. He was my every thought too. When I wasn’t with him I was thinking about being with him and when I was with him I just couldn’t get close enough.
He tangled his fingers in my hair and held me firm as he kissed and explored my mouth. I let him in and melted under his touch. The way he was clasping me was so possessive, so masculine and dominant. Little thought kernels of what he could do to me, how he could make me feel, in bed, began to pop like candy in my belly. Imagine if he held me like this when he…
Oh, sweet Jesus. I was getting turned on again. Shit, and in a holy place.
Lewis groaned and sent kisses across my cheek, tugged my hair firmer so my head tipped, then licked and nipped at my neck. Lust shot to my pussy. It was like there was a wire from the skin on my neck to my clit and his attentions sent white-hot streaks of pleasure zapping down it.
“Lewis,” I murmured, trying to move my head but unable to. I discovered that far from feeling frustrated I reveled in the hold he had on me. That fact that I couldn’t move and he was doing what he wanted to my neck was a massive turn-on.
“Ah, honey, I could have fucking killed Fellows the other night. Walking away from you took every ounce of control I had.”
His breath was scalding hot against my flesh and I shivered with pleasure at his heated words.
“It was okay for you, though,” he went on.
“What do you mean?”
He released the grip on my head and brought my face level with his. “I think you know.”
I swallowed. I did know.
“You used it, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“Don’t act coy.” A slow smile spread on his face. “Because it makes me so horny to imagine you using your vibrator and thinking of me.”
I opened my mouth but no words came out.
He took full advantage and kissed me again. This time he slipped his hand up my top and cupped my breast over the new bra.
I pressed closer for more. Why did we have to be fully clothed and in a cathedral? Right now I would sell my soul to be naked in bed with him and no other person for a hundred miles around.
“I can just imagine you,” he said, tweaking my nipple through silk. “Lying on the bed, legs spread, that buzzing shaft penetrating your sweetness, getting you off, making you pant and sweat.” He paused. “Did you think of me?”
Fuck yes.
“Tell me,” he whispered, “Please, I want to know.”
“Yes. Yes I did.”
I felt his body tense and his shoulders hitched, like he was pulling in a deep breath. “And did you say my name?” He switched his attentions to the opposite breast.
“Yes, over and over.”
He fluttered his eyes shut and let out a long deep sigh. “Oh, fuck, that mental image of you is so hot,” he muttered.
“Lewis Tate,” I said in a scolding whisper. “You’re a bad boy picturing such things in a holy place.”
His eyes pinged open and his gaze trapped mine. For a split second I thought he might grin. He didn’t. “Tell me you’re not thinking them too.”
“Yes, I am, but—”
“But the difference is you’re not going to have zipper marks permanently imprinted on your genitals.” He shifted on the seat. “Fuck, you make me so hard.” He shook his head and muttered, “So hard it hurts.”
That knowledge thrilled me utterly. “Is that so?” I ran my hand down over his chest, his abdomen, then settled it on the solid wedge of flesh at his groin that was pushing and straining against the denim.
“That’s not helping.” He moaned. His face twisted and his eyes screwed up tight.
“I know what will, though.”
Fuck. Had I really just said that? Double fuck. Had I really just thought that? I had, and it seemed I was the biggest sinner of the lot because I didn’t care. I wanted to act on my impulse. In fact, I wasn’t sure anything could stop me. Not now the need, the desire, had flooded my brain like a tsunami.
I tugged at the button on his jeans, freeing it with a quick flick of my wrist.
“Nicky,” he said, parting his lips on a pant. “What are you doing?” He opened his eyes. They were dark and smoky, their normally crystal-clear depths clouded with lust.
“I’m going to help you out with that zipper problem.”


You can read the first chapter of Scored HERE and the first two chapters of The Glass Knot on my blog.

Thanks so much for having me, it’s been fun!

Lily x