Friday, January 28, 2011

Undressing for Love - a guest blog by writer and artist David Russell

Undressing for Love - a guest blog by David Russell.

(*NB: 'Girl' and 'Boy' signify someone over 18)

Below are some tips from the writer and artist David Russell about the play of undressing for love. They've given me some ideas for my own writing and scene creation, too! Thanks, David, for being a guest blogger here today at HEA. Now onto your article.

For me, sex and love is nothing without refined, dramatic foreplay. Dressing and undressing are the kingpin of that foreplay. There are five basic kinds of unrobing which can be brought into any encounter, whether real or part of a romantic scene in a story or novel.

1. Girl* undresses in front of boy: any girl that takes the disrobing initiative can get really proud and confident, and pre-establish her control over the love scene. Girls: do a self-striptease in front of the mirror; love the sight of your bodies. Say to yourself - however great you look in any outfit, you look ten times lovelier with your clothes off.

2. Boy* undresses in front of girl: come on: get over your shyness, boys. Do your own self-striptease: do as the girls do.

3. Boy undresses girl: every boy should know how to disrobe a girl properly, and make her feel great as her gorgeous body is revealed.

4. Girl undresses boy: be liberated, girls. How many boys, deep inside, want to be your beautiful hunks, your sex-objects. (And they also have their feminine side).

5. Boy and girl undress each other: great to alternate – each partner taking off each other's garments in sequence (OK: the alternation can be made with 1 & 2).

Any couple fancying each other should first get a mutual eyeful at a workout centre or a swimming pool. Swimsuits proclaim beauty and allure, They have an air of mystery; they get the imagination going. Arms and legs moving in the water evoke the pulsing rhythms of love. I imagine beautiful girls doing the backstroke giving themselves to me in total love.

Great go go through a few wardrobe changes within one love session. Start off both comfortably dressed for preliminary necking and petting. Skin-tight gear is really uncomfortable for this, so try something looser. Girls: make sure the zip on your jeans us easy to handle, or wear a skirt that is easy to lift during petting. You must offer some token thigh to lead your boy on, and help clinch your control of him.

Great to start the ecstatic process while your French kisses are really hotting up on the sofa, getting longer, breathier, deeper. Girls: hold the crown of your boy's head as he curls tongues with you; unbutton his shirt, feel down his torso and back, start to undo his trousers. Boys: put one arm around your girl's waist; with the other, gently raise her skirt, feel her thighs, unbutton her blouse, feel her back, press her breasts inside her bra. Don't undo it yet. And if you can do all this while holding a kiss, it's fabulous.

You're probably lying on the sofa at this point. Now stand and face each other. Let skirt and trousers fall. Show yourselves to each other as if you were modelling. Have a really tight embrace in your underwear; keep it on for the moment. Boys: now undo your girl's bra, and do it gently, delicately – watch those flimsy shoulder straps. Girls: lift your arms in the air as he does it. You conquer him through the gesture of surrender.

Now – to build up more suspense, a wardrobe change. One of you stay in the bedroom or lounge to change, the other go into the bathroom.

Some wardrobe ideas – swimwear. This can be great, bringing the beach into the bedroom. Boys: build up a collection of boxer shorts and trunks of different shapes and sizes. Don't be shy: try them on in front of the mirror. See which you look/feel sexiest in. Girls are turned on by boxer shorts – but trunks, right proportion in the right light, can give that second wave.

Girls: try on your one-pieces, bikinis, lingerie and body-stockings in front of the mirror; get high on your auto-erotic kicks. See which is really you, at your strongest and sexiest. (I feel that 40s and 50s retro one-pieces still have the edge; interested to hear readers' opinions. Or how about wearing swimsuit under lingerie? One extra layer gives more suspense, and a bit of see-through more still.)

Put on tee-shirts and shorts. Imagine you meet and fall for each other on the beach. Peel off each other's shirts, tops and shorts – strip each other for glorious athletic action. (Girls: you may prefer a bathrobe to a tee-shirt; that's fine.) It's great to feel the adrenalin pushing against your costumes and against your partner's body as you're poised to plunge for the swim of love. Do plenty of hand play around the edges of your suits. Boys: run your hands down in sweeping curves over your girl's bra and cleavage, and down her back. Feel inside her bra if it's not too tight. Do the same on her hips. Girl: feel your boy's hips and thighs by the edge of his trunks.
Turn the lights down low as you finally remove your costumes. Good to stand up and do so before you finally go to bed. Boys: taking off a glamorous one-piece takes a steady hand; cultivate one. Girls: some sexy trunks have knotted waistbands; be practised with knots.

Other ideas: Boys: uniforms and period gear. Girls: if you can get flowing ball gowns, that's marvellous. It's one of my favourite turn-ons to see a girl stepping out of a voluminous, or a skimpy gown to show off a swimmer's body. Schoolgirl gymslips are wonderful for petting.

A really good two-way strip can lift either/both of you up to a great androgynous feeling, break down your barriers with each other. So, macho woman and feminine man, get it together. Great, beautiful sex can free you from the constrictions of your gender categories.

Enrich your love lives with a good (un)dress sense.
But don't forget to fit the condoms into the programme.

David Russell.
About the Author

Born 12 June 1940 and living in West London, UK, David is a writer in all genres, including poetry, fiction, and criticism, and he is a guitarist and singer-songwriter. Some of David's erotic poems have been featured in anthologies produced by Forward Press. He has a collection of poetry and prose entitled Prickling Counterpoints, that has been published in many magazines. He has written two novellas: High Wired On (speculative fiction) and Self's Blossom (romance). The latter, together with the short story Explorations, have been published by Silk's Vault. His albums include Bricolage (Hangman Records, 1992) and Bacteria Shrapnel (Posterity Recordings, 1997).

David's amazon author page is here:

If you wish to see some of David's stories, please go here:

And to see his novella 'Therapy Rapture' please go here:

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

The Lovers

Several years ago, I saw this picture in a catalog. I was floored by it's romantic quality. I acquired in it porcelian plates and had greeting cards of it framed for hanging in my bathroom as well as many other works of Lee Bogle's Native American collection. It's hard to explain, but his work inspires romantic tendencies within me. Several companies have put many of his pieces into various forms of collections, porclain plates, figures, music boxes, and jewelry - most are retired. I feel fortunate to have many of the collections throughout my home.

The Bradford Exchange put together a porcelain collection set in an unique beautiful frame called the Circle of Life - I'm so in awe of it that when we remodel the bedroom it will be the center piece. The frame is unique in the sense that each porcelain plate can be removed to hang separately, but why would anyone want to?

Lee is a multi-talented artist who I believe has accomplished his task to portray a spirituality to his Native American work. I also have a sense of more. There is a purity of emotion, a love of self and life. He's captured their essence through his vision, and his choice of colors and talent to bring what he sees to the canvas is magnificent.

I'm looking forward to acquiring his new work, especially "The Dreamer" and "Alone With Her Thoughts".

I would like to believe Lee is a special man to know and be around. His sensitivity in the painting of wildlife and women in general show such respect and beauty that I think his art is worthy of sharing.


Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Escape ~ Indulge in an Erotic Romance Novel

Kevin Sorbo as Hercules

Happily Ever After, everyone. I hope the New Year of 2011 is treating you right? And, I hope you’re treating yourself right by reading those romance novels that tingle you the most ~ heart, mind, body and soul *tingle* you.

Escape, that magical feeling when you’re reading a book that carries you away to another world, another time, another place. As human beings, we also use our fantasies to escape. And, as a writer, my fantasies come in darn handy when I’m dreaming up plots for my erotic romance novels.

One of my reoccurring fantasy themes is escaping to a world of real men. Yes, REAL MEN!!!

Okay, I’ve always had this special fondness for the male sex. I don’t mean only as a woman wanting a man. I just like men. I liked hanging out with them. I liked playing sports with them. I liked listening to their stories. Yep, I’ve always enjoyed being around men, unless they got too crude or too into the whole ‘top dog’ thing.

However, these days, where are the real men? Being a baby boomer I’ve seen and experienced a lot in this world. I’ve witnessed and lived the changes. My memory of the events, the times I’ve lived through is as brilliant and sharp as watching a movie.

And, sadly, I’ve watched our culture become what I call ‘wimpified’, in general terms that is, and certainly not on an individual basis. I believe this is one reason there is such a craving for Alpha Heroes and also Alpha Heroines. Certainly, these romance novel subgenres remain a hot trend.

However, let’s get to the fun part. What follows is a flash I came up with around my fantasy of finding real men.

His Pretty Woman

Stopped in her tracks, Shekia stared at the monolithic arches crisscrossing the intergalactic port. When she’d embarked on this all-paid-for vacation she hadn’t expected to face this level of magnificent architecture. There was nothing like it on her world, or the planet-worlds she regularly traveled between as a private courier.

Even the holo travelogue couldn’t do it justice. Unaware she moved at first, Shekia gradually spun around, her gaze fastened on the gigantic sweep of what appeared to be merchant offices inside the arches – given the logos.

“Like what you see?”

The man’s low rumbly voice teased her in a kind, yet provocative manner. Unused to that timbre, Shekia whipped around. The travelogue certainly hadn’t lied about the superior handsomeness she could expect to find.

The man smelled virile. The scent tickling her nostrils juiced her sex, a rare occurrence for her when it came to encounters with the male gender.

In appearance, he reminded her of a golden-maned Hercules. His build was similar to the ‘men of renown’, ancient Earth men who had been the sons of the gods and goddesses.

As a young woman she’d spent much of her day in the Denver International Library studying the recordings of these Herculeses, as she called them. Especially the discs found beneath the paw of the Sphinx.

The ancient tech record had been discovered during the 2020s. Even though, the men of renown had been all too neatly villainized by the accompanying documents, there had been something inside Shekia that questioned, that voraciously hungered. She wanted to know the truth about them no matter what.

Now face-to-face with a man who stood a good foot, and probably more, above her, Shekia tried to get her tongue to work. And dammit! When had her mouth dried up like a desert?

“Why is it so not” she managed in the sexy galactic lingo he’d used. “I mean for a port?”

Taking a step closer to her, his intent gaze never wavered, yet he pointed upward. “Have you noticed the position of our sun?”

Lost in the odd dark amber of his eyes, Shekia shook her head. Then, despite her usual composure in every situation, she bit her bottom lip.

He moved closer, and before she could step back, his huge hands lightly gripped her shoulders. He turned her around so she faced outward.

Her butt grazed his amazingly hard thigh as he drew her against him. The thin, pewter gray fabric garbing his warrior-muscled physique hardly prevented her from feeling what he obviously wanted her to feel.

Shekia followed his hand as he pointed upward. High in the aquamarine blaze of sky, the planet-world’s sun gleamed like an ultra shiny gold disc.

“It is the hour of the midday meal. We take that quite seriously here, pretty woman. I am here because your arrival could be scheduled at no other time.”

“Sorry to inconvenience you,” she murmured, even as her traitorous butt now tingly begged for the touch of his hand. Hell, her whole body hummed with arousal. The image of her with Mr. Hot Hercules’s hands all over her naked body flashed before her mind’s eye.

“You are an inconvenience.” His voice was somewhere between a purr and a growl, and definitely a seduction of her senses. “However, I have made dining arrangements for us.”

Shekia emerged from her stupefied hormonal state. “What are you? Part of the vacation package?”

“I am your vacation package, pretty woman.”

Somehow, he eased her around to face him again. Shekia only knew his hands were on her, commanding her in a way that quantum-leaped her libido.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

How those inane words had left her mouth, Shekia didn’t know, except she felt at a major disadvantage. For Goddess sake, she already clung to the man’s humongous forearms.

“I am Zolion, a third generation son of the Apollo lineage, as you would recognize it. Yes,” he answered her startled gaze, “we know about your educational study of us. Once a disc is activated we track whoever takes an avid interest.”

Shekia’s stomach somersaulted several times. “What do you want with me?”

His gradual smile warmed her the same way the sun warmed her flesh whenever she laid on the beach...only now it was from the inside out, lust included.

“I want to show you how we vacation here. I want to show you how a man treats his woman.”

Authors, I invite you to share the fantasies that inspire your books.

Readers, what fantasy-escape story turns you on the most?

Happy Romancing in 2011


Savanna Kougar
~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~

Monday, January 17, 2011

What I Like in a Romance

Story! Lots of story!

Did you think I was going to say sex? Sex has its place in romance, but sex is not at the top of my list of requirements.

First of all, my preferred type of story is historical. I don't care for contemporaries because they're too much like real life. When I read, I want a vacation from the everyday. The past contains fantasy because we can't go there and see what it's like. I used to read pure fantasy, but the magical elements have worn thin.

My love for historicals is subdivided, though. Most of the books I read are set in the Regency, that period in England history about two hundred years ago. Lords and ladies, gorgeous clothes, and a time far enough in the past for a little fantasy, but not so far as to be unrecognizable. If I venture out of my comfort zone, I'll read a book set in the next closest eras, Georgian and Victorian. Occasionally, I'll read a medieval or two, and maybe an Edwardian, but I rarely travel farther.

Next, I want something in addition to the romance. I like mystery, adventure, or suspense added to the mixture. Although the relationship is paramount, I want it to develop in a larger context. What else do these people do?

I also want likable characters. Both my hero and heroine must be decent people. No bad boy heroes or doormat heroines for me. My hero and heroine must be equally matched in strength and intelligence. At the end of the story, I expect them to walk into the sunset together, not one following the other. I also like my hero to use a little muscle against the villains. I like kick-butt heroines, too, but they're harder to do in historicals.

Next on my list is humor. Real life can be depressing. As the newspaper saying goes, "If it bleeds, it leads". Not for me. I want a laugh. The funny possibilities of a story lock into my mind, so I appreciate comedy.

Then there is the Happily Ever After. The real world has so few happy endings. If I invest several hours reading a book, I want that happy ending. I rarely read fiction other than romances.

And last, but not least, there is sex. I want romances full of love, and sex is part of love. Some is fine, but I don't care for pages and pages of it.

So, there you have what I read, and also what I write: a funny Regency with decent heroes and heroines involved in a story full of love with another story in addition to the romance. Sex is nice, but not necessary.

And of course, a Happily Ever After.

Romance, you gotta love it.

And what do you like in your romances?

Thank you all,
Linda Banche
Welcome to My World of Historical Hilarity!

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

A Funny Thing Happened...

A funny thing happened on my way to becoming a published author. I slipped into something a little more…erotic. And I’ve stayed there since 2006, when I wrote my first erotic romance and made my first ever sale.

For those of you who may consider erotic romances the same as erotica (or worse—porn) it isn’t. Like any other romance, erotic romance is about people finding each other and falling in love. It may be a story more along traditional lines (one man, one woman) or it may be about two men or two women or a ménage.

The point being, regardless of whom the people are, the stories are still about falling in love. In addition, they have plots!

So what makes erotic romances different than more traditional romances? The degree of explicitness in the love scenes is the biggest difference, along with the language used to describe what’s happening and the body parts being used. But—and this for me is important—the body part description is still respectful. The hero—no matter how he may have thought or talked about a woman’s breasts before—will not refer to the heroine’s as “jugs” or “racks” or “tits.” The heroine—unless provoked beyond the limits of good taste—will not refer to the hero’s member as a “prick.” (She may, however, think of him as being one early in their relationship.)

There are no closed doors or fades-to-black in erotic romances. Readers are taken from the first kiss of the love scene to afterglow with no intermissions. Again, the scenes are explicit, immersing the reader in all the sights, scents, and sounds, the touches and tastes the lovers experience. It’s noisy. It’s smelly. It’s what fantasies are made from.

Remember when you fell in love and couldn’t wait to be with your lover—preferably naked and on some soft, flat surface? The surface might not have mattered… Come to think of it, being naked probably didn’t matter either. The point being, you couldn’t wait to make love.

In erotic romance—at least in mine—the frequency of love scenes is dense. So dense that one reader described Courting Kel (available from Ellora’s Cave) as “more like a skinamax flik than a novel.” I wish this reader would offer a similar comment about Saving Ryan’s Privates (available from eXtasy Books) since my Courting Kel sales seemed to skyrocket after her comment posted.
The frequency of love scenes in these two books is dense and occur early into the story. The characters and plotline required it. In Chosen—my first foray into vampire lore—the first all out love scene takes place later in the story because the characters and plotline required the delay. Which doesn’t mean Chosen lacks sexual tension. In this story—which releases January 15, 2011 from eXtasy Books—sexual tension abounds. At least I hope it does!

What’s the hardest—er—most difficult part about writing erotic romances? Keeping the love scenes fresh and exciting for the characters. Which, hopefully, engages the readers. And remember, tradition or erotic, romances are about falling in love.

Available January 15, 2011 at eXtasy Books, approximately 276 pages $5.99


Soulless. Irredeemable. Blood-drinker. Vampire.
Many people have called Domenic Nadal many names in the course of his nine-hundred-year life. None has come close to what he really is. He has also been called a recluse; a name he accepts because it is true.

Mortal fundraiser Ariadne Fortesque has no idea her boss is using her to wage a five-hundred-year old vendetta on the handsome, ageless vampire. Neither is she prepared to deal with her attraction to a man who could destroy her will with a single glance from his silver eyes or drain her life blood.

He will live forever. How much time can they have together?


“Do I make you nervous, Ariadne?” His mouth hovered just above her neck.

“Yes.” Her heart continued to flutter, half fear of him biting her, half hoping he would kiss her. It seemed her body knew instinctively what her mind was still fighting. Her head tilted to one side, inviting him to do what he would.

“Do I arouse you?” He nipped the sensitive junction of shoulder and neck. “Be honest, querida.”
“I…I can’t describe how you make me feel.” Wanting to touch him, she clenched her hands in her lap.

“But nervousness is one you can describe. Do other people—other men—make you nervous, as well?”

“S-Sometimes.” She thought he stopped breathing, as if holding his breath for her next words.

“The first time I approach a prospective donor… That makes me nervous.”

He nibbled her earlobe. “Butterflies reside in your belly kind of nervous?”

“Sometimes so many butterflies my knees shake.” She tried to fill her oxygen-deprived lungs.

“Do these questions—?”

“Are your knees shaking now?”

A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “My whole body’s shaking.”

One warm hand came to rest between her tilted head and shoulder. “Can you feel my trembling?” He cupped her cheek.

Her voice deserted her, but she managed a wobbly nod.

“Do you know why I shake?”

“H-How could I?”

“Because it is the same reason you shake. It is the yeaning to touch and be touched. The craving to kiss until you forget where you are. The fear of rejection by the one you yearn for and crave.” He raised his head and met her gaze.

She wanted to close her eyes, keep him from seeing how his words affected her. Contrary to her wish, she couldn’t stop gazing into his eyes or avoid imagining herself sinking into their silver depths.

“I am going to kiss you, Ariadne Fortesque. I am going to touch you, bring you to bliss. And when you are trembling in my arms, I am going to do you over and over again.”

“B-Bring me? D-Do me?” She didn’t understand the words, but her body did. It already trembled. It yearned for his touch and craved his kisses.

“Show you time and again that this body you so dislike was made for me to fuck.”

He brushed his lips across hers, a whisper, a promise of more to come. Oh please, many, many more.

She didn’t remember moving, but felt his thick locks curl around her fingers. And somehow she managed to lift her head enough to kiss him. He resisted at first but, at last, his lips softened., then he took control once more, kissing her gently, nibbling, sucking, teasing until she whimpered and opened to take his tongue within her mouth. He tasted like strawberries and cream, sweet and tart and smooth all jumbled together in an unknown concoction she couldn’t resist. She could drink his essence for the rest of her life and never thirst for anything else.
He eased away. A moan of disappointment followed her as she tried to draw him back.

“I want to look at you, querida. See in your eyes how much you want me to kiss you. See how red and lush your lips are and how they plead for my lips to return.” Tangling his fingers in her unbraided hair, he drew her face to his.

She parted her lips, silently begging him to kiss her again. Wild to have his lips on hers, his tongue and hers twining in an endless waltz of pleasure.

And then there was more. So much more. His fingertips feathered down her neck, the pads rough, but not unpleasant against her skin. When he slid his hand under her sweater she sighed into his mouth, massaged his scalp and neck and arched into his warmth. Into his hand cupping her naked breast, his fingers plucking her rigid nipple and circling her puckered areola.
“My bra,” she protested, her voice a purr of pleasure.

“You do not need it, querida. In truth it would please us both—” He swept his tongue across her lips. “Were you to forego underwear altogether.”


His tongue plunged into her mouth and her mind whirled with unexpected colors. Colors she had never seen before or felt before. All the myriad rainbows held in his hands as he massaged her belly. She thought about sucking it in, but the idea floated away before her body obeyed, too lost in sensation to care what she looked like. The colors shared his heat, the blues cooler, the golds and reds seeming to relax her muscles and warm the empty place between her thighs. So empty, she mewled and shifted her hips to bring his hand closer to where she craved it.

“Raise your hips, querida, so I can teach you the bliss no underwear allows.”

If you enjoyed this excerpt, you can find more books on my website.


Monday, January 10, 2011

Bodice Ripper to Erotic Romance

Welcome to Erotic Week!

Oh, so many years ago, I started writing stories for the sole reason that I'd become bored with only half the story. I wrote about struggles and finding love, but I opened the bedroom door. I never considered it erotic, the word never entered my mind. I considered intimacy part of a relationship between a man and a woman. Normal stuff, you know. Even your preacher does it - proof is in the kids they have. ;)

I saw nothing wrong with showing the complete relationship, though my mother sure did. Or so she let on. I recall one day, my sister found one of the stories and took it to her. I was read the riot act, however, she returned the story to me. Maybe secretly she was saying, 'go girl', but because of the time she couldn't publically condone it.

Oh, some of my work might be toned down in comparison to what most write, but still for the fact I opened the bedroom door and brought the reader into the mix of lover-talk and details makes me one of them. I learned this back in 2006/2007 when I met some erotic authors.

I really had mixed emotions about it due to the stigma anything 'erotic' had though I've never been a prude - prudish at times, never a prude. Most people have trouble separating erotic from pornography. I live in a backword world where anything to do with sex is frowned upon outside of your personal relationship with your SO. Sure women read bodice rippers, but they didn't do it in public. My own mother read them. I leaned this one day when she'd forgotten to hide it before coming to the school bring me home due to an illness. One other time, I was sitting at her dressing table getting ready for a school dance and she'd had one stuck in one of the drawers. She snatched it from me so fast it left me with curiosity. What she didn't know was that my grandmother, her mother, allowed me to read whatever I wanted when she I spent weekends. I read the books she read, I read True Magazine - boy I loved that magazine. And later, while I babysat for a former neighbor, I was allowed to read her books. She had stacks of bodice rippers. So, maybe I was predisposed to write erotic romance.

Oh, the covers were much different then they are today - tame and respectable in comparison. At the time, revealing cleavage caused respectable to women to gasp, but when much of the breast was left in full view, surely they were a slut; even a slit up the skirt revealing thigh and hip was unacceptable. Or it all was in the backwards world I was raised in. Nowadays, nothing is really taboo.

Erotic Romance has a come a long, long way since I started writing it back in the late 70's. Even my own writing of it changed over the last four years. We've become more graphic, more detail oriented, more free with the number of scenes. It's clear the market was ready for changes from bodice rippers to erotica, but I think for some there is a fine line between erotic romance and pornography. I'm afraid that rift will always be.

For my own books, it's all about the characters and what works for their relationship. So you'll find none of my books or their covers are on the same level of heat though I do think of them all with high senusal undertones.

Darius Markum, a man Cheri London meets online, agrees to help her conceive a child she wants. Darius sets out to win Cheri's wary heart, but before they can meet, she's injured and a rescuer named Allen comes to her aid. After a night of passion, Cheri returns home without meeting Darius. Or did she? [contemporary]

ISBN 1-60601-040-9 Purchase at: Bookstrand, Kobo,, All Romance Ebooks, Barnes & Noble, Amazon Kindle.

Despite company policy, Cole and Lana are desperate to get their hands on one another, but when she believes he was fired over the one indiscretion, she has to have one night with him before he leaves town. Then she learns the truth. [contemporary]


Elan Takoda convinces Cassandra Jones that one night, living the vision they’d both had would rid them of the erotic realism of dreams. But does it? [contemporary paranormal]

ISBN 978-1-6098-2300-9 Purchase at: eXcessica, All Romance Ebooks, Amazon, SmashwordsKobo, Sony, Barnes & Noble, Bookstrand. Also available for download from Apple.

Banished from her home, Lillian Basford picked herself up and set out to start a new life. When Samuel Wadkins came along and gave her a real-life taste of what her dreams with him had teased her with, she became torn between her life as it was and what it’d now become. [spicy historical fairy tale]

ISBN: 978-1-4524-3636-4 Purchase at: Smashwords, KoboSony, and Barnes & Noble


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