After I fell in love with the cover QDesign created for Virgin on Human, I knew I wanted her to keep the streak going. So working with Amy from QDesign on a series idea, we decided Coral wasn't the only character that needed to kick up her heels. 

If you've read Virgin on Human, you already met this next book's heroine, Paisley. Paisley's book came about from my editor at Samhain Publishing (RIP) basically demanding her story.

And I had to get it done, because she was not the quietest character, and her story came screaming from my head a lot like Coral's did. As a bonus, Paisley needed more than one man to keep her happy. 

Hot men. 

Men with upgrades. 

I wanted to keep the same bright striking imagery as QDesign brought to the first cover. And she completely came through.

Here is the brand new cover for the re-release of Interlocking Hearts.  

So what do you think? Notice the three gears in the background? It's a hint at how the three characters all need each other to "come together". 
​

Interlocking Hearts will be up for pre-order soon. Check back for the links!  

~Roxy

I'm working on a draft for some more #ROBOSEX at the moment, but until I can wrap up this couple in a tidy bow, I thought I'd share a taste of Coral's story. 

The Coral-600 is a biometal mechanical entity with a human skin overlay infused with sea life DNA. This means she will basically be young and hot for an indeterminate period of time. But as much as you'd think you'd want to hate her because of that, her innocence and joy at her body's reaction to desire will put a smile on your face. 

Coral's desire wakes up inside her when a man named Quinn comes to stay at the palace. After a long night of dancing and learning just a little about the human mating rituals, Coral finds herself alone with Quinn.  

Enjoy this excerpt from Virgin on Human

All of my preparation went out the window when Quinn entered the kitchen as I cleaned up the remaining dishes.

“Quinn, you missed dinner. Should I prepare something for you? The chefs have left, but I am programmed with basic culinary skills.” I put the dish back into the soapy water and dried my hands on the dish towel I had slung over my shoulder.

“Are you really going out with Paisley to get laid tonight?” He asked me with his hands on his hips. His manner was very confrontational.

“That does not answer my question about the food.”

“I want an answer to my question first.” He folded his arms over his chest. His forearms flexed and I admired the musculature under his skin. I wondered if any of his arms were mechanics.

“I was planning on dancing more. I was not planning on lying down.”

He exhaled and dropped his arms. “Then yes, I would love a sandwich.”

I prepared him a sandwich and removed some of the fennel salad to put on his plate as well. I waited for him to make noises of contentment around his meal before I continued the conversation. “I will, however, have sex should the opportunity arise. I find myself anticipating the opportunity to have another orgasm.”

Quinn began choking. He had inhaled his sandwich. That was no way to process nutrients. I walked behind him and slapped him on the back to break up any large particles in his airway. He sputtered and made noises, but drank the water I put in front of him and seemed to recover nicely.

I would have given him the Heimlich maneuver, but I found myself wanting to touch him in other places and it would not have been easy to keep my hands in the proper position.

“Coral, you can’t go pick up men and have sex with them.”

“I will do my best to give them an orgasm as well. I want to make sure the experience is satisfactory for all parties involved.” I went back to the dishes. Quinn should have been satisfied now that I had explained I would not be seeking only my pleasure.

He wasn’t.

“That’s not what I am getting at.” He got up and stood right behind me. My skin felt warmer even without him touching me. Was there some kind of strange reaction that our systems had with each other?

I pulled the drain as I set the last clean dish in the drying rack and turned towards the man behind me. I was going to explain that this was not negotiable. I was going to explain that just because I was mechanics didn’t mean I couldn’t give and receive this kind of pleasure.

I had all of the words in queue to be processed through my vocal chords. Then Quinn gripped me by my upper arms and leaned in to kiss me. His lips pressed against mine. His body pushed mine up against the sink behind us.

I’d never been more uncomfortable in my maid’s uniform. I wanted all of it off. Quinn couldn’t touch my pussy with my stockings and underwear on. He needed to touch my pussy. I felt myself getting wet at the thought of him touching me like he did last night. I pressed my hips against his. That’s when I knew there were mechanics in both his arms, because he held me tight.

His tongue slipped against my lips. I opened my mouth to ask him why he was licking me on my face when he could have been licking my pussy again. Instead of my argument my tongue was busy wrapping and sliding around Quinn’s. This felt good too.

I lifted my hands to his chest and gripped his shirt to pull him closer. When he realized I was not going to push him away he released my arms and wrapped his strong limbs around me. One hand rose to grip the French twist in my hair and move my head where he wanted while he kissed me. The other hand went lower and gripped my ass. He pressed my body harder against his. I liked that.

​His erection pressed against my stomach and I wanted to have sex even more. If my pleasure receptors were firing off this much data at the touch of his penis on my belly… through all these layers of clothes…I wanted to have sex. Immediately. 

How was that for a first kiss? I wish mine had been that explosive. But then again, I didn't wait ninety-some odd years to have one. Coral had some anticipation built up. 

Have you read my first #ROBOSEX book? What did you think? And what would you like to see in the series?

​~Roxy

**NOTE**  This was originally posted on my Facebook wall after a few too many cocktails. If you want just my normal book updates, you can like my FB Page. Either way, I need to drink when I write more often. 


Dear skinny girl... I know you opened up to me, and told me you felt bad being so thin. I know you were complaining that it was hard for you to gain weight. You told me about the doctor that didn't take you seriously when you were worried about your health. You told me people made fun of you for being so thin.

I listened. I hope I was a friend. But I realized through the conversation I never said, "You're beautiful."

That was my mistake. Because you are. And not because you are a standard of beauty I will never achieve. You are beautiful because you laugh with your whole body, smile with your whole face, and give out complements alongside sage advice. And because you aren't afraid to tell those around you to fuck off.

You're also beautiful because you're athletic, and agile. You're beautiful because your muscles are visible, and help us all appreciate parts of the human body we never see in ourselves. Your hands are delicate and graceful, and when you talk animatedly, you use them and it's like a show.

You also get to take your bra off at the end of the night and not risk bodily injury to yourself or your bedmate.

You're beautiful.

Dear fat girl... I know your story too. I know the ways you hide your thighs and your tummy at all costs. I know that you don't ride the roller coasters, not because you don't want to, but because you're terrified the safety restraints won't latch.
I know your doctor doesn't take any of your health issues seriously because your doctor tells you to diet instead of running a simple test just to check on you.

When you'd talk, I'd listen, I'd relate, and I'd quote the latest body positive quote that knocked down the skinny girl, because we need to realize we're okay even if we'll never have a thigh gap.

But I made a mistake. I never said, we're all beautiful. Not just those of us with curves. And our beauty is not reliant on the disgust of others.

Dear fat girl...you are beautiful. The sexy curve of your back as it folds around your lush ass is incredible. Your cleavage that goes on for days and makes anyone die for a motor-boating trip is hot. Your soft skin that begs to be stroked, is stunning.
Your smile creases around your lips and you can't hide joy if you tried.

Dear me... We've been the fat girl. We've been the hot girl. We've never really been the skinny girl unless we devoted our entire life to it, but that kind of sucked.

Dear me...look in the mirror and see your smile. Look in the mirror and take joy in the fact that with the increased weight, clothes fit you better. Look at how you've grown to realize what makes you happy to decorate your body with, and what makes you feel beautiful.

Dear woman reading this...find your mirror. Look into it and smile, and realize your own beauty. Complement your sisters. But perhaps more importantly, complement yourself. The human body is ever-changing, and we have it for such a short period of time. Our bodies are beautiful. You are beautiful.

Do you want to wear that bright pink lipstick? Do it.

Do you think tattoos are stunning? Get one.

Do you want to dye your hair? I'll lend you my bleach.

Decorate your body how you see fit. Play with it. Have fun with it. Then look in the mirror and smile.

Dear woman reading this...you're beautiful.

~Roxy