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eBook Category: Erotica
eBook Description: BJ Black, daytime sports magazine director and nighttime secret author, is being pressured by her agent to produce more erotic scenes in her manuscripts. A sexy, humorous, classy romp of two chat-cyber-lovers on a tour of virtual sensuality where we go along as voyeurs. [Strong Sexual Content]

eBook Publisher: Clocktower Books and Far Sector SFFH (magazine), Published: Clocktower Books, 2001
Fictionwise Release Date: September 2002

16 Reader Ratings:

Great	Good	OK	Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [152 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [130 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [117 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [413 KB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [129 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [141 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [177 KB] , hiebook (KML) [307 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [200 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [107 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [134 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [171 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [180 KB]
Words: 40000
Reading time: 114-160 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"A sexy and humorous journey of two chat-cyber-lovers who take the plunge, and discover themselves as well as each other, on this tour of virtual sensuality. Fans of Lip Service by M.J. Rose will find Cyberflame: A Tour Of Virtual Reality equally titillating and satisfying. Just as Rose used phone sex to provide the structure for her runaway hit, so does Flame use chat rooms and email messages to structure this erotic novel. Destined to be a tremendous hit, this book brings class, plot and style to erotica. Very highly recommended."--Cindy Penn, Senior Editor, Word Weaving

"...Very well written and has a definite storyline which flows nicely from scene to scene, and in fact, the way their relationship grows points out the very real phenomena that two people might possibly find happiness together, even though they met online and conducted the first part of their relationship in this way, almost backward from a normal romance. Then again, you definitely need to understand, this is not a romance novel by any stretch of the imagination. This is raw, wildly erotic sex, and doesn't pretend or even try to be anything else. This book is hot, hot, hot, and you almost need asbestos gloves in order to turn the pages. One erotic fantasy after another falls naturally into the story as you race ahead to see what BJ and Casey are going to do next-and what's going to happen to them as a couple. I highly recommend this book if you're looking for sometimes funny, sometimes dead serious erotica. If you are, this book should most definitely be on the top of your reading list. "--Beth Anderson, Author & Reviewer

"Cyberflame is a spicy read. It kindles romance, ignites desire, and brings two people together in the most pleasurable, satisfying and sometimes-humorous ways imaginable. It will take readers beyond the limits of their erotic imagination to a realm that is both tantalizing and provocative."--Ardy Scott, Futures Magazine

Just for the record, Ms. B.J. Black would not be lurking behind any door labelled 'perversion.' Nor would she be waiting behind that door entitled 'sexual deviate.' However, if placed under the interrogation spotlight with pointy toothpicks jammed under her fingernails, Ms. Black could not explain to you; or anyone else for that matter, how this cyber event occurred.

You could try deprivation of coffee, even the withdrawal of cigarette privileges, or as a last resort, daily re-runs of The Sound of Music. Nonetheless, all Ms. Black would tell you was that on Sunday night, July 1, she exited the anonymous public forum chat sessions and entered the erotic zone. A steamy world where words never before typed, let alone understood, or located within any well-respected dictionary, flowed from her mind into her fingertips, to converge upon the screen in a steamy, privately sensual cyber-chat.

On this notorious night, B.J. Black vanished, and the sensual form of Cyberflame emerged. The only witness to this re-birth was her partner in lust, known as Bighands. A kind of name that would ignite any bored brain cell, especially those cells which, for Ms. Black, had laid dormant in the 'deal with later' brain chamber for over two years.

So the logical person in the reader is asking, "How did this happen?"

To answer that, I suppose I should tell you, Ms. B.J. Black has a secret. In the literary world, Ms. Black is what they term a closet author. Her chosen genre: sensual romance. This writer, cloaked in mystery, only surfaces under the cover of night. During the day, she is the notorious Ms. B.J. Black, Managing Director for the Australian Division of the magazine 'Sports and All', which is a more apt and parent-approved profession to be sure.

This secret germinated at the conclusion of a ten-year marriage, planted in a pot of stunted communication and drought-ridden passion. Now, hitting the thirty-something age bracket, the only romance B.J. wanted in her life were those she invented for her fictitious characters.

B.J., confident, believing her luck finally existed on the right side of the fence, sighed with pleasure. She had written, in two years, five well-received novels, had a good contract with a respected publisher, and had been the bridesmaid with two literary awards. Yes, things were definitely rosy. The cup was half full.

Then hurtling from left field, her ever present, always demanding literary agent, Beth Jazz, began requesting more spice, more steam, and more lust in her future works. This agent even went as far as to blame the new Millennium, shifting planetary alignment, and modern technology on the readers' desire for more oomph in the literary bedroom. B.J. knew she could not argue with that; after all, Beth was Chicago born and bred, and everyone knew Americans were not clueless.

B.J., having listened to everything her husband had ever said to her, pre-programmed as a nymphet failure, could muster up zero oomph in her marriage, so what chance did she have now, concealed in the cloak of a thirty-something separated single?

For four solitary weeks, Black the author tried valiantly to sizzle and spark on the page. When her imagination failed, she purchased men's magazines, visited those shops, and studied, under cover of darkness, those highly explicit how to manuals. However, all they encouraged was her paranoia, an in-depth knowledge of the human form, and a growing warped sense of humour.

Then one day, bored with her Windows ME, and avoiding her incomplete manuscript totalling a very incomplete 4000 words, B.J. began clicking around the Internet--that mystical place known as the World Wide Web. Her bored single-clicks accelerated to double-clicked enthusiasm, and with a keyboard stroke of panache, she launched herself into an ICQ public chat session. A journey where her 21" monitor divided into two screens all by itself, and virtual strangers began talking in text.

As the wall clock ticked the seconds away, B.J.'s narrow existence rapidly widened as each line of text met her gaze. Particles in her brain began to fire off sparks, as names such as VirginMouth, LusciousLips, Hairychest, Hunkthighs, and her personal favorite, Horneytoes, began whizzing across her monitor. Their dialog, occasionally political, sometimes topical, but more often tinged in the sensual slant, caused a tingle to flutter across her skin.