Brandi Rides Again?

Brandi is still in e-formats at eXtasy Books.... But would you like to see her in print?

Leave your comment here and let her handlers know! Thanks. ;)

Love, Fun and Fantasy in Loving Who

Although this fantasy novel isn't quite as spicy as Celine's erotic-romance titles, there's plenty of "action" in this fun "fiction about fans" available now from Mojocastle Press.


LOVING WHO
by Cynthianna
ISBN: 1-60180-075-4
http://www.mojocastle.com/celine/lovingwho.html

The man...the magic...the movie? Screwball romantic-comedy meets the world of Doctor Who fandom. Cici Connor's life will never be the same when she takes John Smith, a mysterious Brit, into her bed and her life begins to change... possibly for the better. After all, how many alien assassins tracking her does one girl need?

Available now in e-formats... and hopefully soon in trade paperback edition. Thing is, the more e-copies it sells off the blocks, the faster the print version is released by my publisher, so don't wait! Buy yours today.

(Feel free to pass this book release announcement on to other Doctor Who fans. Thanks!)


Celine Chatillon writing as Cynthianna
http://www.cynthianna.com
Boldly going where no one genre has gone before!

The Loves of Her Life--now available

Celine's erotic-fantasy novella, THE LOVES OF HER LIFE has just been released from eXtasy Books. Her heroine, Estrella, has the second sight and the ability to use "sexual magic". Will she use her abilities wisely? That's for you to decide!

Here's a brief excerpt to pique your interest:

The Loves of Her Life: Two of Wands
by Celine Chatillon

The latest from the Tarot Card Series at eXtasy Books.

Spoiled and pampered Princess Estrella knows she must marry Prince Norbet for the good of her people. But she loves Lord Aiden, her childhood sweetheart, a soldier who must fight the dragon that threatens both their kingdoms. With her second sight she can see into the future and knows what is best for all… But even with this
awful knowledge, how can Estrella choose between the loves of her life?

Scene Set-up: Things steam up when Estrella and Aiden act out the story of the beginning of the world during the Summer Solstice celebrations...


"Give us the rest of the story!" cried the spectators. "Honor the Summer Solstice! Honor the goddess!"

"Well, if you put it that way…"

Estrella wrapped her hands tighter about her lover's neck and pulled his lips toward hers, kissing him passionately. Their tongues met and the electricity of attraction surged through both. Instantly, Aiden crushed her curves against his. He rhythmically rubbed the bulge beneath his loincloth against her belly. She moaned and
reached down to stroke his erect flesh in time with the music, which had taken a serious turn into a steady, sultry, throbbing beat. He slid a hand under her short, filmy skirt and stroked the growing dampness between her thighs.

He chuckled. "You're as wet as the legendary flood of the Dragon's lair. Obviously, all these eyes focused on your luscious body is a turn on."

She smiled against his lips. "And I can tell you're as hard and straight as the legendary granite obelisk that marks the end of the world."

"Atillo then entered Adala and the whole world blossomed!" exclaimed a self-appointed narrator, a thin, bookish-type who seem to relish the telling of tales. "Soon, all the world was filled with the beautiful evidence of their love."

"Hmm, are you ready for me to fill you with the evidence of my love, my dear?" Aiden whispered in her ear. "I'm about to burst as it is."

"As am I. But wasn't there another person in the legend that brought the two together? The oak tree, Amillo?"

"You're right." Aiden tweaked a pointed nipple through the thin material of her shift, causing Estrella to moan.

A shadow crossed their path.

"And Amillo came and cradled the lovers in his branches to better assist their joining," their narrator said in hushed tones.

Estrella and Aiden hesitated then slowly turned to see their oak cradle.

The well-dressed stranger!

"I thought I'd volunteer my services in the part of Amillo. I am an amateur scholar of these old myths and legends. The chance to help act out one with such a handsome couple was… irresistible."

THE LOVES OF HER LIFE
http://www.celinechatillon.com/loves.html

Buy it at eXtasy Books: http://www.extasybooks.com


Keep cool--and remember to read hot!

THE TOP TEN THINGS I HATE ABOUT CHARTER HIGH-SPEED INTERNET SERVICE

I received this rant (or all things!) from Celine recently. I thought I'd let her vent here. Can someone out there in cyberspace help this poor chick out? She's really losing her mind, the poor dear. Thank you. --Brandi

The Top Ten Things I hate about Charter High-Speed Internet Service:

10.) Having to keep a diary of all the times I’ve had to call Charter Customer Service and be put on hold in the last two and half weeks. For example:

February 29—first call made for service outage.
March 2—two technicians replace cable line from building to the box on the street edge and leave it lying exposed on the grass. Next day we get 8 inches of snow.
March 5—another technician comes to fix outage and says its my modem which is a problem—I replace it with new one.
March 13—two technicians come back to “bury” the exposed cable in the grass—internet goes off for good and they disappear without a word to either me or my neighbor whose digital cable TV has vanished as well. I call and speak to “Irene” at customer service that evening and stay on phone for approximately 45 minutes. She promises things will be taken care of within 24 hours. (It’s not.)
March 16 –tech call that afternoon, the internet goes off and stays off within two minutes after technician leaves after adjusting my modem/the cable box on building.
March 17 – on in the morning, Internet goes off at approx. 1:30 pm and comes back on three separate times by unplugging/re-plugging in the modem until goes off for good at 2:45 pm. Another call to customer service where “Victoria” promises me technicans will call me within the hour (this said at 3:15 pm). No calls received within the hour—or the day. Or even the next morning... Why am I not surprised?

9.) Having to push “0” over and over at every automated switchboard prompt until I get a real live human being. (Keypad on phone now worn thin.)

8.) Having to repeat my sob story over and over again to these helpless Charter customer service reps who do not live in my city, state—or possibly country.

7.) Having to pay for Charter High-Speed Internet Service in the first place because AT&T hasn’t set up the lines so we can get DSL Internet service in this neck of the woods.

6.) Having to pay my cell phone company for the minutes that I went over my plan this month because I was put on hold so many times calling Charter High-Speed Internet Customer Service.

5.) Being promised a rebate on an $89.99 modem I got in August when I signed on with Charter High-Speed Internet —the modem that at least one technician told me was “broken” and I needed to rent one from Charter at an additional fee per month. The modem rebate (promised within 6 to 8 weeks) has yet to arrive. All emails sent to the email address for questions about rebate not answered, either. Charter Customer Service reps say they “know nothing about the rebate program” yet Charter’s icon is plastered on the web site and they provide the modem. If they contracted this incentive program from an outside source, they are responsible for it ultimately—right? Why else would you advertise it and put your company logo on it?

4.) Not being able to send doc files to my telecommuting positions as expected—missing out on potential income and creating ill-will with potential customers because I’m not able to respond to their email requests in a timely manner.

3.) Missing out on promotional activities online because I cannot get online and stay online. Not being able to update my web sites in a timely fashion. All lead to lost sales and advertising opportunities for my books.

2.) Having to buy gasoline at over $3.09 a gallon to drive to other places to use public Internet—and then finding they have a “nanny blocker” on some of these public WiFI access points so I can’t even access my own publisher’s web site!

And the number one reason why I hate Charter Communications High-Speed Internet Service…

1.) Those damn flashing green lights on the modem when it’s kicked me offline for the upteenth time in the last five minutes!


If you have a similar tale of woe (related to Internet service problems or not) please feel free to share it in the comment section. After I've calmed down somewhat, I might do a drawing for a little prize of one of my backlist books or something. Thanks for your understanding. I think I will take a Valium and go lie down now before I'm tempted to buy a shot gun...

They love me at Joyfully Reviewed--I knew it!

They love me at Joyfully Reviewed! "Barb" in particular loves my memoirs... Kisses to her, the darling girl. ;)

Here are a few juicy blurbs from her excellent reviews:

http://joyfullyreviewed.com/Publishers/eXtasyBooks.html

Captured by Space Pirates! is a book that takes Spaceballs and mixes it with Men in Tights, then adds a hefty dose of the fashion sense of a Victoria Secret Catalogue. The reader starts smiling from the first sentence and is captivated by the wit and unorthodox, campy humor of Ms. Chatillon. Ms. Chatillon enthralls and holds onto the reader with twists and turns that keep the reader in a very happy state of mind.


Lashed at the Mast! continues where Captured by Space Pirates leaves off. It is a diverse and zany story. Ms Chatillon persuades the reader that life and sex are as funny as one thinks they are when one is younger. She develops characters introduced in the first book, as well as adding new characters that make the reader sit up and laugh. Ms. Chatillon’s sense of humor is vivid and complex and a joy to behold.


Intense and amusing writing makes Bound for Adventure a romp that continues to give the reader’s mind a workout as to new uses for everyday items in people’s lives. An enjoyable frisky frolic from Ms. Chatillon.


Entertaining and full of jollity, Little John’s Big Problem is a yarn that the reader relishes from beginning to end. Once again Ms. Chatillon draws the reader in and makes them pay attention. The start of each episode of her Brandi Whyne series grabs the reader and by the end, the reader is totally entranced. Another wonderful tale of Brandi Whyne.


Kinky and a bit perverse (in the good way), The Search for Brandi’s Crack is a story a reader enjoys from beginning to end. Drawing on the colourful characters from the previous chapters, Ms. Chatillon gives the reader what they want. A well-written tale that makes the reader laugh out loud and care for her characters. I anxiously await Chapter Six in Brandi’s adventures.


Hmmm... I guess I should get to work on the next installment, huh?

Read this chick's book--please

http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/books/offleshandblood.htm

Read this chick's latest vampire anthology Of Flesh and Blood and get her off my back... She won't let me come out and play while she's promoting it. So buy a copy and hush her up. I want to write a few more of my adventures, and she tells me she can't handle promoting a new release and taking dictation at the same time...

Really!

She's online this week at "Sexy Delights" too yakking the thing up. Join her there and tell her to get her curvy backside over here. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/sexydelights/

I'm off to find me some horny space pirates and keep myself "busy" while I'm waiting for Celine to join me and scribble down my next adventures. The wench!!!

From my first memoir...

For those of you who aren't personally acquainted with my writings, I thought I'd post a short excerpt from my first memoir: Brandi Whyne and Her Incredibly Erotic Adventures: Chapter 1--Captured by Space Pirates! Enjoy.

From Brandi Whyne and Her Incredibly Erotic Adventures with Robin Manhood and His Totally Sexed-Out Space Pirates
a serialized novel available from eXtasy Books (http://www.extasybooks.com)
(Copyright 2006 Celine Chatillon, all rights reserved)

(Editor's note: This excerpt is an edited “PG-13” version. I didn’t want to offend too many readers off the bat. If you want to read all the good and naughty bits—then buy the bloody book! --Brandi)

It’s difficult to know where to begin my tale—so fantastic an adventure it is, and oh, so incredibly erotic. I suppose the best place to start would be at the very beginning.

Not at my beginning. To go that far back would simply bore you to tears. I know it would bore me, so let’s not go there at all. Agreed? I really should have phrased that first sentence better.

Allow me to start again.

The best place to start is when I first met the space pirates. Or to put it even more accurately, Robin Manhood and his totally sexed-out space pirates.

I know what you’re thinking now “What does she mean by ‘totally sexed-out space pirates’?” It’s a valid question. But if I told you everything at the start of this saga, it would take away from the suspense, now wouldn’t it? Besides, it will become obvious in a few pages what I mean about the space pirates and their sexual appetites. Can you hang on until then? You can? Thanks.

Okay, now that we’ve settled that point, I’ll start my story on the day I, Brandi Whyne, met Captain Robin Manhood and his so-called band of Merry Men, Women, and Aliens-Whose-Genders-Are-Still-Under-Consideration.

Got that? Good—because I’m not repeating it.

I was twenty-two years old and working that day—strike that, slaving is a more accurate term for what I did—at the Black Whole, a smoky, seedy spaceport bar owned and operated by my aunt, Cruilla DeVino on the planet Proxima Centauri Five.

I use the term ‘aunt’ somewhat loosely to describe dear Cruilla, for I was never certain of our family relationship. With her toothless grin, greasy, matted gray hair, two meter height, one-hundred kilogram weight and her constant chuma leaf chewing and spitting, she bore little resemblance to me—a petite yet curvy, auburn-haired, freckled-face girl with all my teeth.

All I really knew about Cruilla was that after both my parents died in a crash landing of a top secret, experimental spacecraft on the other side of the planet (when I was a mere twelve years old) I was sent off to slave alongside Cruilla at the Black Whole. And I can honestly say that there has never been a more educational apprenticeship experienced by an impressionable young girl in the known history of the universe.

“Bring us more ale,” the old space dogs would bark at me from their sticky barstools from sundown to sun-up. “And bring us another bowl of those little salty peanuts so we can get eat them and get even more dehydrated than we do while consuming large quantities of alcohol so we can consume even more alcohol…” or some such nonsense. The Black Whole wasn’t famous for its intelligent clientele by any means.

Fetching mugs of space ale, delivering bowls of peanuts and wiping off sticky barstools was the whole of my existence until about my sixteenth birthday… And then our patrons’ jeering took on a more lascivious tone. But I soon discovered a way to keep the lusty louts’ hands off my curves. By the time Robin Manhood arrived on the scene, I had polished my comeback lines so well they had become true performance art.

“Hey, Brandi,” one particularly thickheaded gentleman missing half his teeth and all of his wits, charm and pocket change called out. His drinking buddies laughed and punched him on the arm. “Pull down that blouse of yours and let us see something. Flip up that skirt and show us that curvy backside of yours up close and personal, sweetheart.”

What can I say? Their manners were appalling. That’s the Black Whole’s clientele for you. It was time to teach these scumbags a lesson.

“Oh, what an eloquent pick-up line. To have this innate ability to wax poetic… Ah! It makes me my heart sing... Your mother must be very proud of you and your lyrical abilities.”

“Eh?” The cretin cocked an eyebrow and stared at me, drool pooling in the corner of his crooked mouth. “You sayin’ you really wanna do it with me?”

I batted my thick, curly eyelashes, smiled coyly and leaned in for the kill. “Why, kind sir, how can I refuse? You are a true master of romance.”

His eyes were practically on stalks now. “Say wha…?”

As his brain was probably the size of his manhood—miniscule—I tried to make it easy for him. I spoke slowly and distinctly.
“Okay, I’m game, Romeo. Pull it out and show me what you got, big guy.”

Quite a large crowd gathered around us now, murmuring encouraging words. “Woo-hoo! You better show the little lady what she wants before she changes her mind.”

I held out a hand and cut off their banter. “But first, let me remind you all of one important thing…”

I leveled a stare at the entire assembly and lowered my voice to gain their utmost attention to the seriousness of what I was about to say.

“I have taken a sacred vow of celibacy at the Shrine of the Goddess of Fertility, Fun and Family Planning that I will never make love to a man unless he measures up to my intimate expectations.”

“Uh, you want me to pull my manhood out and lay it on the bar?” The imbecile hadn’t quite caught on yet and wanted me to spell it out to him. Meanwhile, his drunken companions howled with laughter at his expense. Foolishly, I egged him on.

“Of course. I must measure it. I’ve made a vow to the goddess. You don’t want me to go back on my vow, do you?”

“No, no, of course not. It’s just I…I…”

“He ain’t got one!” jeered one of his buddies.

“Hey, I got one and you know it! You take that back, Bernard.”

The entire bar was in on the joke now. Sniggering and chortling, back slapping and booze sputtering echoed from the top of the smoke-stained rafters down to the mud-encrusted tile of the floors.

Now, if I had been thinking at this point rather than enjoying a rather good laugh at a customer’s expense, I would have made good my escape to the back while Henry and Bernard’s buddies taunted them about their masculinity. But I didn’t. I joined in on the merrymaking, even reaching across the counter to retrieve my ruler…

“Gotcha.” Henry pinned my hand to the surface. “Get her other arm, Bernard. We’ll show Miss Brandi and our comrades here who’s a pansy and who isn’t.”

At this point I believe I should make mention that I had taken a vow at the Shrine of the Goddess of Fun, Fertility and Family Planning. It wasn’t quite the vow that I used to tease my customers. However, it was made along similar lines.

My vow was simply this: I would never give myself to a man until the goddess gave me a sign indicating that he was the right man for me. So allowing myself to get raped on a bar countertop—and a sticky, cigar ash and peanut-covered one at that—was right out of the picture.

“Aunt Cruilla!” I cried as the creeps crushed me to the bar spread-eagle. Even now Henry was fumbling with his belt buckle as Bernard reached under my full skirts... “I need a little assistance here!”

Cruilla sauntered out from the back office and clucked at me like she did when she wasn’t too happy. “Brandi, I told you a million times not to wipe off tables with your backside. Now, get your knickers back on and climb off that counter this instance before I dock your pay.”

Then my dear auntie disappeared into her cubbyhole once more.

Henry and Bernard weren’t about to let me go with so weak a protest on the owner’s part. And their buddies were all starting to drool and fumble with their belts as well… I opened my mouth to scream but found my own bar towel shoved inside, muffling my cries.

This was it. The end of my purity and perhaps my life. It was all I could do not to break into tears.

But then when all hope seemed lost, a commotion starting behind me shot a warm glimmer of hope through my anguished soul. A shadowy character from the last booth on the right emerged. I hadn’t paid much attention to him before, as he had pulled his hood low over his face and kept pretty much to himself all evening. But now the hum of a pocket-sized laser zap-knife and the cries of agony permeated the air along with the smoky-sweet stench of burning flesh.

“Eegads, no!” screamed many a drunken bar patron that night as he quickly zipped up his fly and made a made dash to the door. “Please, anything but that! My missus would never forgive me if I came home without my few inches!”

Within seconds, Henry and Bernard and their cronies were limping out the exit... I slowly pulled myself to a sitting position and flung the rag from my mouth, eager to thank my rescuer.

But he was gone.

“Brandi, get off the bar top,” Cruilla called out from her office. “How many times do I have to tell you, girl?”

“Sorry, Aunt Cruilla.”

I hopped down and rushed to the smudged front window. A towering figure dressed in a flowing, dark green, hooded cloak strode quickly away from the Black Whole.

My champion. My savior.

And he hadn’t even bothered to tell me his name.

Good, eh? Wanna read more? The links to buy this fantastic piece of comedy-erotic literature are above. Get your arse moving and click on them! --Brandi