Tag Archives: Naked Montreal excerpts

#Booktoberfest: Enter my Montreal Mischief #giveaway for a chance to win Montreal-themed erotica


As part of the City of Love release blog hop (October 6 to 14), today’s Booktoberfest giveaway is all about Montreal! Enter my “Montreal Mischief” contest to win a super prize pack of all of my erotic books set in Montreal.

One lucky winner will receive:

Share this post with your friends for more chances to win. And don’t forget to enter to win Marion Croslydon’s Grand Prize giveaway on her Facebook page. Bonne chance!
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On the second day of XXXmas, my true love gave to me…

On the second day of XXXmas my true love gave to me…

A two-fer of Where to Get Laid in Montreal and Top 5 Reasons You Can’t Get Laid in Montreal!

Grab two of my “quickies” (erotic short stories) for one crazy price: FREE! Learn where the locals like to make love, and how to avoid alienating them in your search for sexual satisfaction, with this cheeky duo of excerpts from my serial novel, Naked Montreal.

Download them both at Smashwords, using the coupon codes GR45U for Where to Get Laid in Montreal and AJ89S for Top 5 Reasons You Can’t Get Laid in Montreal.

AND in case you missed yesterday’s freebie, click here to grab the First Day of XXXmas giveaway!

Merry XXXmas, and stay tuned for 10 more days of holiday surprises through December 25 right here on the blog.

P.S. Sign up for my mailing list so you won’t miss a single XXXmas freebie!

Halloween treats for bookish types

Halloween is creeping up on us, and here at Buttontapper Press, we’re ready to hand out a few treats!

From now through November 1, when you buy a copy of Naked Montreal: A Novel of Sex and the Underground City, you’ll receive a copy of Naked Montreal Part 2: Porn Stars and Peccadillos free.

“Naked Montreal Halloween Treat” on Ganxy

OR, if you’ve been craving some ninja action in your life, you can snag a copy of Ninjas of the 512 for just 99¢.

“Ninjas of the 512: A Texas-Sized Satire” by Laura Roberts on Ganxy

These scary-awesome deals are ONLY available by purchasing books through our website, as a thank-you to our loyal readers, so feel free to share this link with the book lovers in your life. Happy Halloween!

Sunset on Summer Fun Blog Hop: Enter to win a Kindle Fire or Nook HD

Hello and welcome to the kick-off for the Sunset on Summer Fun Blog Hop! If you love erotica ebooks, this is your lucky day, because I’m raffling off 5 copies of my latest ebook, Naked Montreal Part 2. In addition, all of the participating blogs in the hop are hosting their own awesome giveaways, and the Grand Prize for participation in the hop is a Kindle Fire or Nook HD.


Like I said, if you dig ebooks, this is big!

My Naked Montreal Part 2 giveaway is open to readers internationally, so hit up the Rafflecopter below to enter for your chance to win. THEN hop on over to BTS Book Reviews, Decadent Publishing or Everpress Media to enter to win the grand prize. Be sure to check out all the prizes at each participating blog as well, by using the Linky List below.

Deadline for entry into all contests is September 30, 2013, so hippity hop to it!

Naked Montreal Part 2 Giveaway

NM2Francesca “Frankie” Parker, Montreal’s only sexy tour guide, is at it again. Introducing tourists to Montreal’s Underground City, she’s got more sexy stories to share, and plenty more lusty lads and ladies to keep entertained.

From aspiring porn stars cutting their own sex tapes to indulging visitors’ fantasies of live nude girls covered in sushi, Frankie’s seen it all. She’s even got tips on who to sleep with in the Sin City of the North — and which famed hotspots are best for getting hot and heavy, away from the prying eyes of the Prude Police.

Unless, of course, that turns you on!

Curious? Let Frankie be your guide in part two of this new erotic series from author Laura Roberts.

Need a copy of Part 1? Through September 30, you can grab a copy of Naked Montreal: A Novel of Sex and the Underground City for just 99¢!

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Kindle Fire/Nook HD Giveaway

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Additional Giveaways

The Fine Print

Grand prize is open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use an Amazon.com gift code or Paypal cash. All winning entries will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter, or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by Rafflecopter and announced here, as well as emailed, and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Grand prize giveaway was organized by Chrisy from BTS Book Reviews eMag and Decadent Publishing and sponsored by the participating authors & bloggers. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

Montreal from A to Z: Sarah B. absinthe bar

S is for Sarah B.


Sarah B. is an absinthe bar in Montreal. I set a scene from my novel, Naked Montreal, in a fictional version of the bar, so I thought I would share that excerpt with you today. Please note that the following is most likely NSFW, as the subject matter involves sex (or at least the prelude to it) and the book itself is 18+, so proceed accordingly!

Chapter 3: Ladies at Play

When we finally arrive back at the W, where the girls have booked themselves a sweet-ass room with a view, I propose a round of drinks at Sarah B.

Where’s that?” they ask.

Just up the street,” I say. “It’s an absinthe bar. Super posh, very romantic, and very much guaranteed to free you from the pesky bonds of sobriety.”

Ooooh,” they murmur.

It’s so French,” Kelly sighs.

Will there be any hot guys?” Jenny asks. She’s been missing her ex, which is never a good thing on a Girls Only weekend.

I can guarantee at least three very hot guys,” I say, texting my friends Jean-Marc, Maxime and Luc with “URGENT: Sarah B. absinthe and lady-boners STAT!” The three of them party together most nights and love to entertain my female clients with their French accents, ripped bodies and ridiculously good looks, so they only need one reply between them: OUI MON AMOUR!!”

Anybody need the ladies’ room?” I ask, herding them back towards the door.

Oh, wait, I forgot my lip gloss!” Kelly squeals, rushing back toward the bathroom to grab it.

Ready? Good. Let’s go!” I say, leading the parade. We sashay past the front desk, and I wink at the bellhop who opens the door for us like the classy ladies we are. He tips his cap almost imperceptibly, unable to hide his grin. I’m pretty sure we’ve met before, based on his reaction, though I can’t place him. It helps to have a photographic memory in this town, but a quick trip through my iPhone’s address book, annotated with mug shots of everyone I’ve ever met socially, ought to do it. Oh yes, the cute musician whose band I complimented a few weeks ago. He thinks he’ll get lucky because we’re in his hotel, and he has some vague idea what I do for a living. Keep dreaming, mon ami.

Sarah B. is, as always at this time on a Friday night, swinging. Though the bar itself is buried in the Hotel Intercontinental, its reputation for excess is legendary and its patrons are willing to line up in droves. The green fairy is the drug of choice for all manner of would-be artists, much like its original, more lethal predecessor from the mean streets of the Sacre Coeur and its epicenter, the Moulin Rouge. Only nowadays, the bohemians are known as hipsters, they’re much better dressed, and they’re living off mommy and daddy’s money while they flirt with taking a music, acting or writing degree at McGill. Everybody loves a trust fund baby.

Especially when the trust fund’s paying for drinks.

Jean-Marc, Maxime and Luc are good salt-of-the-earth working-class types who earn their own cash, so I must admit I prefer their company to that of the hipsters, though money is money when business is business. Okay, so they usually earn their cash in unorthodox ways that would make their parents blush, but at least they work for a living and pay their own way. They’re also gentlemen, beneath their wild-child exteriors, always opening doors and pulling out chairs for their lady friends. You’ll never catch them leaving without the girls they came with, though they may also be leaving with many more. They’re perfect, professional dates.

And you can typically see their sweet asses shaking it on stage at La Cage Aux Follies or Solid Gold, because lord love them, they’re some of the finest male strippers in town.

I told you their bodies were tight, didn’t I? You don’t get washboard abs from lying around the house eating bon-bons.

Jean-Marc is your standard hustler, slathering on the French pick-up lines that make no sense in English like “Est-ce que tu laver tes pantaloons dans le Windex? Parce-que je peut me voir dans le reflexion!” (Translation: “Did you wash those pants in Windex? ‘Cause I can see myself in them!”) Cute, if you haven’t heard it all before, and most touristas haven’t, so he gets away with murder by flashing his winning smile. He favors black turtleneck sweaters in winter, black V-neck shirts in summer, and khaki chinos all year round. Looks like an angel, but turns into a real devil in the sack.

Maxime. Dark hair, dark eyes, a brooding poet with a penchant for quoting Rilke, he’s a favorite with gothic types. He’s rarely seen without a Moleskine notebook and fountain pen, copying down a few lines of poetry (along with his number) for his chosen prey. He’s full of pithy one-liners as well, but they tend to appeal more to the bookish types, and he’s been known to make love to women atop books of poetry, drunk on the sound of his own voice.

Luc is my favorite of the three. He’s a curly-haired dirty blonde that gives Justin Timberlake a run for his money. Thin and buff, he favors the typical French club gear of leather pants and black mesh shirts, but somehow he pulls it off and still manages to look très sexy despite the cliché. He’s an incredible dancer, and given my uncoordinated ways, I’ve always been impressed by his ability to talk dirty to even the most spastic of women while making them look like liquid sex on the dance floor as he quite literally charms the pants off them. Picture Dirty Dancing in a packed club full of 80s-night ravers and you’re getting warm.

Although these fine gentlemen are paid to entertain women, they’re also straight-up lady-killers in their own right. They may come off a bit cheesy at times, due to their constant hustling, but they’re also oddly sincere. They can’t really help it: they love the ladies, whether they’re paid or freelancing. Which is what makes them perfect for my business, since they’re up for anything, and sometimes even waive their fees.

As they say in New Orleans, these lads like to laissez les bons temps rouler.

When Julie, Kelly, Stacy and I finally make it past Sarah B.‘s green velvet ropes, the boys are already waiting for us in a private booth at the back.

We hope you don’t mind,” Luc says, “But we ordered a round of their finest.” He kisses Jenny’s hand and she blushes furiously.

I’ve never had absinthe,” she whispers. “Isn’t it supposed to drive you mad?”

Mad as a hatter!” Maxime jumps in. He wiggles his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

It’s all lies,” Jean-Marc scoffs. “Probably made up by the British to squash our impertinent French desires.”

Ah yes, the British plot against the French!” I say, feeding his separatist fantasies. “Everyone knows the Brits are a stodgy pack of puritans.”

I wink at the ladies to let them know I’m kidding. They giggle politely.

But Ms. Parker, isn’t that why America broke away in 1776? To escape the tyranny of the Anglophone empire and their highly taxed tea?” Jean-Marc presses.

Perhaps they just preferred coffee?” I reply, pinching his right nipple.

“Et toi?”

Moi aussi. Tea is for stuffy English grandmothers.”

So we are agreed: absinthe will not drive you mad. It will only set you free!” he proclaims as the drinks are delivered by a nattily attired waiter.

Have you drunk absinthe before?” the waiter enquires.

“Bien sûr!” the boys chorus as the ladies shake their heads in counterpoint.

A brief primer…” the waiter begins, showing them how to layer the special spoon, the sugar cubes and the liquor. He demonstrates and has them each build their own.

The ladies sip their drinks delicately, as the gents watch for their A faces. It’s almost as if they’re watching them orgasm. First the look of astonishment, then the look of sweet, drunken pleasure. The boys clap their hands and shout for more. The waiter shoots me a look of indulgence, and I slip him a twenty.

Another?” I ask.

More, more, more!” the boys chant. They toss their own drinks back hastily, as though they must burn through several rounds before they can afford to savor the sugary, licorice taste.

I sip a club soda and vodka, wary of getting hammered with my clients. It’s not something I can afford to do, as a drunken guide is an unreliable narrator, not to mention a danger to herself and her charges. Besides, I’m not here to party; I’m here to serve. I hail cabs, escort women to powder rooms and buzz off over-eager suitors in search of drunken prey carrying far too much American cash.

As the ladies get soused, Jean-Marc, Maxime and Luc make their moves. Soon Jenny and Luc are making out at one end of the booth, Kelly and Jean-Marc are quickly making their way to third base, and Stacy is allowing herself to enjoy the pleasures of Maxime’s hand on her thigh as he recites Leonard Cohen. When I finally catch her eye, I tap my wrist to indicate it’s almost time to make our way to El Greco’s. She whispers something in Maxime’s ear. He grins and looks at me with a questioning glance. I give him a wink. It’s on.

I herd the ladies like drunken, drowsy sheep and manage to get them all to stumble back to the hotel room in once piece. No one vomits, a plus. No one begins crying, another plus. The gentlemen allow the ladies to lean their heavy heads on their shoulders and help to support them as they trip over their own stilettos, and prevent them from wandering out into the crosswalk before speeding cabs.

I love these boys.


Want to learn more about Montréal’s Underground City? My book, Naked Montréal is now available at Amazon! Click here to download your copy now. (NOTE: This title is 18+.)

Let’s get Naked!

This Monday I posted the last installment from chapter one of Naked Montreal, Part One. Today, I have good news:

Naked Montreal is now available for purchase at Amazon!


I’ve decided to break the book up into four parts, publishing them one at a time as they’re finished. You can jump in at any part of the novel for just 99¢, and once the whole book is complete, I’ll release an “omnibus” edition with all four parts together.

So if you’ve been holding your breath for this novel, the wait is — at least partially — over. Grab a copy here, and tell me what you think!

P.S. Don’t panic if you don’t own a Kindle; you can download Kindle for PC for free with this link and read right on your computer, or read it online at the Publification website.