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Lex Valentine: Do NOT Touch!

 

Yup! It’s week two and The Tutor is still only 99c/p. As promised, I’m going to give you tastey tidbits and titillating insights into Lex and Kelly’s world. Monday’s a good day to start at the beginning.

 

We have five senses. We use them all without thinking, but as a writer, I’ve always been intrigued by what it would be like to live without one – one that we use most often. If you’ve read The Initiation of Ms. Holly, then you know the story hinges on not being able to see the face of a lover. In To Rome with Lust, I concentrated on bringing the sense of smell to the forefront to the point of it being nearly a curse.

 

In The Tutor, I take away the one sense that we never lose, the one we most rely on in our everyday life. I take away the sense of touch. Sculptor, Lex Valentine is severely haphephobic — not being able to touch anyone else or allow himself to be touched. Within that context, I wanted to explore intimacy and how it would develop – if it even could develop – without the aid of human contact.

 

 

 

The Tutor Blurb:

Struggling writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues. The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.

 

 

 

 

Do Not Touch! — The Tutor Excerpt:

“Get out! Get the hell out now! Dillon! Dillon get this bloody woman out of here!” Lex managed to keep his knees locked and his feet under him until the blasted model, robe slung hurriedly around her, clothes and bag bundled in her arms, was out the door and out of his sight, then he collapsed in a heap, the floor coming up to meet him with a breath-jarring thud – not that he could breathe anyway, not at the moment at least. The room spun around him like a tilt-a-whirl at an amusement park, and his skin slickened with cold sweat. He knew the fucking drill by now, but it never got any easier, and never got any better, not even when he was expecting it, and he sure as hell hadn’t been expecting it this time. As he fought back nausea and vertigo and several other little unpleasantries his doctor had slapped labels on so long ago that he couldn’t recall their names, he heard his PA passing the horrid model, who was now blubbering as though she were the injured party, off to V. Officially, V may have been just the housekeeper, but he and Dillon had long contended she was an alien sent from her distant planet to study earth and see if there was intelligent life. The Valentine House, they joked, was probably not the ideal place to succeed in her mission. Still the woman had persevered. They figured it was only because of her alien intellect and a sense of humor that allowed her to handle all the insanity with grace and aplomb.

Which was way more than he could manage at the moment, lying with his cheek pressed hard against the cool slate tiles of his studio, listening to the rush of footsteps and the woman’s nearly hysterical sobs as V – her name was Vida, but they’d always called her V, calmly led her away to someplace where she could change, have something warm to drink and maybe a bit of whatever Cookie had baked that day. After that, she’d be paid well for her traumatic efforts, politely reminded of the non-disclosure agreement she had signed before she came to model for Lex, and sent on her way. She would not be back.

Another treacherous tilting of the floor and a quick spin of the room had Lex praying to the gods of equilibrium and dignity that he could at least manage to keep his breakfast down. Though dignity was already well gone, he thought. Cautiously, he half opened one eye, and got a quick glimpse of a well polished pair of loafers before he slammed it shut again and decided there was wisdom in holding his fetal position on the studio floor for just a little bit longer, after all, Dillon had seen him in far worse situations.

“You gonna be all right?” Dillon asked softly.

Lex made some non-committal sound at the back of his throat – about all he could manage at the moment. He heard the brisk clip, clip of Dillon’s loafers across the slate, then the sound of running water and the footfalls of his return, and when Lex could smell the spicy dark scent of his PA’s soap, he risked reaching out for the glass of water, he knew the man had set down next to him.

“Anything else?” Dillon asked. “Do you need to throw up?”

“No. I’ll be fine,” he said, easing himself ever so carefully into a sitting position, still holding onto the floor with one hand and keeping one eye shut. He took a cautious sip of water. “She touched me,” he managed after he felt confident the water would stay down.

“I gathered.” Dillon said, settling on the floor next to him.

“She came up behind me while I was finishing up the sketch. Honestly I thought she was gone. She was supposed to be gone. And then she … Jesus, Dillon, the next thing I know, she’s all over me, and she was cold, so fucking cold.” For a second he thought he might change his mind about throwing up after all as, with a hard shudder, he recalled the chill of the woman’s bare flesh against him. “And I couldn’t get away from her. I couldn’t get her to leave me alone, and she was cold, she was just so cold.”

“Fuck, bro! I’m so damn sorry,” Dillon said. “I was just outside in the hallway. It all happened so fast.” The studio door was always kept open and, when Lex worked with a model, someone was always close by. But there had never been an incident before so protocol had gotten lax.

“I mean what the hell? I swear I didn’t do anything to make her think … I mean I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.”

“I know that, man. I know that. Besides, she knew the rules. They all know the rules before they work with you.” He stood and looked around the room until he found the blanket Lex kept handy for models to wrap up in between sketches and on breaks, then laid it on the floor next to him and plopped back down. Lex pulled it around him with a shiver. Even in early summer, the studio was fairly cool and models were warned ahead of time that Lex preferred to work in an unheated space. “There’s just something about a vulnerable man that sort of gets the female of the species right here.” Dillon tapped his palm against his chest. “Makes ‘em want to get all nurturing and rescuey, you know?”

“I don’t look vulnerable. Do I look vulnerable to you? And I don’t need nurtured or rescued.”

“Trust me,” Dillon said, “you don’t have to be vulnerable for them to see you that way. And let’s face it; there you stand, the long suffering artist with that mussed hair and just the right amount of stubble like maybe you just got out of bed, and they start thinking maybe it should be them you just got out of bed with. Hell, bro, I’d be after you myself if I wasn’t your best friend.” He shrugged, “and if you were a little more versatile in your preferences.”

“Too damn bad I’m not, pal. It would sure make my life a whole lot easier.”

“Oh, I doubt it,” Dillon said with a shake of his head, and the smile on his face darkened. “I seriously doubt it.”

Dillon knew about complications in relationships. He knew way more than he ever told, Lex was sure. But at least Dillon could have a relationship.

“Is he all right?” there was a clatter of dishes and silver and V blew into the room with a tray loaded down like it was mealtime. “He didn’t throw up did he?” The two of them always talked about him as though he were their seriously ill patient who had lost all cognitive skills.

“No, he didn’t throw up,” Lex managed a fair imitation of her voice that earned him a jaundice look, but nothing else. If he didn’t throw up, V fed him. If he did, she waited an hour and then fed him. He grudgingly admitted that Dillon and V together knew exactly what he needed and they didn’t let him intimidate them out of it.

“Well then, he needs something warming to ground him. Cookie’s potato leek soup and a nice cup of chamomile tea is just the ticket,” she said, plopping down on the floor next to the two of them, managing, to his astonishment, not to spill either soup or tea in the process. Once seated, she efficiently poured tea as though they were at the dining room table rather than plunked down on the studio floor discussing his unexpected close encounter with said floor and what should now be done about it.

“I’m not hungry.” But he grudgingly spooned up some soup and swallowed it back just to make her leave him alone. He had to admit it tasted pretty damn good, so he had another one while they went right on talking about him as though he weren’t there.

“Well I can certainly understand why the poor woman thought he needed a little cuddling,” V said. “Look at how pale he is. He’s the epitome of the suffering artist.” She eyeballed the soup and then him with a gesture that needed no words, so he shoveled in another bite. “But I really thought Ms. Philips was a keeper. I thought she understood the ground rules and would abide by them. Poor dear was ever so upset when I left her with Cookie. I’m sure she’ll never do it again.”

“She won’t because she won’t get the chance,” Lex said, this time dropping the spoon back onto the tray with a loud clatter. “I can’t run that risk.” Besides, he didn’t want to try and sketch someone who had seen him so vulnerable, who had seen him … not at his best.

Dillon helped himself to one of the homemade Parmesan bread sticks and spoke around a mouthful. “I’ll start looking for someone else. We always get resumes. Most models would kill for an opportunity to work for him.” There they went again speaking around him.

“Don’t the two of you have things to do?” he said.

“Not till you finish your soup and drink some of that tea too. It’ll help calm you,” V replied.

He was their boss. He could force the issue, but they both knew he wouldn’t, and he knew that whatever it was they had to do would get done and then some.

“I’ll make sure he finishes, V, darling. Why don’t you go get on with the accounts? I know you’re up to your eye in it at the moment.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” she shoved her way to her feet with a cracking of joints heartily protesting time spent on the hard floor. “Make sure he doesn’t get up until he’s ready. And make sure he drinks that tea,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the door, where she turned and gave him one more look-over just in case they’d missed something, just in case this time was different than all the other times they’d sat with him until he could function again. Something was different, but he wasn’t about to tell V that.

When they were both sure that the housekeeper was gone, Dillon turned his eagle eye on Lex. “Well?”

Lex did his best to focus on the last of the soup, but Dillon had been his best friend for years, long before he was his PA, and he didn’t miss much.

“You had a naked model with a very nice, very natural rack rubbing up against your back before you went ballistic on her and then hit the floor.”

“You’re seriously asking me if I got a hard-on from this whole experience?”

“Well, not the whole experience, obviously, but didn’t you, you know feel something before you felt what you usually feel.”

“Not long enough for it to cancel out the old reliable if that’s what you were hoping,” Lex said, downing the now tepid tea in a single gulp. He fought back a blush. “Besides, these days it wouldn’t matter if I were doing the accounts for V, I’d still be … uncomfortable. It’s ridiculous,” he said. “If I don’t figure out what the fuck my problem is, and soon, I’m going to have repetitive stress syndrome.” He flexed the fingers of his right hand. “Can’t be all that great for my work either.”

Dillon shot a glance back at the door on the outside chance that V might be eavesdropping, which the woman wasn’t above doing. Then he scooted a little closer, careful not to make any physical contact and spoke between barely parted lips. “I might have an idea.”

“You might?” Lex shooed the man away from the last breadstick with a snap of the napkin against his wrist, then grabbed it and chomped one end.

“Give me a little time to research it and I’ll get back to you.” He said, rubbing his wrist as though Lex had actually wounded him. Then he rose to his feet and left him to eat the last of his breadstick in peace.

He knew how Dillon was when he had an idea. He was never sure whether to be excited or terrified. He forced his way to his feet and turned his attention back to the half-finished sketch of Sally Philips now lying on the floor next to the over-turned easel among a scatter of other sketches. He had given the whole thing a shove when she’d trapped him between the easel and her half-naked body. Even as he shivered at the thought of her cold touch, he felt a tightening in his jeans. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. He wadded the drawing into a ball and tossed it across the room. Truth was he’d had a hard-on the whole time he was sketching her, but that was often a part of the creative process. He’d read enough to know that creative energy was very closely linked to sexual energy and libido, but under the circumstances he had very little outlet but a good jerk-off session. Surely Ms. Philips hadn’t noticed his chub. He never wore anything that might give away his secret when he was working with a model. Surely she hadn’t thought that he was interested. He wasn’t. Even if she had been his type, he had given up hopes of anything resembling a relationship or even a quickie with a stranger in an alley a long time ago. He righted the easel and picked up the sketches, organizing them and placing them back in the pad, careful to extract the ones he’d done of Sally Philips. A setback, indeed. They were nearly done – only a few more sketches and he’d have been ready to begin work on the sculpture for the new women and children’s hospital, but he knew he’d never be able to see sketches of her now without breaking into a cold sweat and feeling slightly nauseated, neither of which was conducive to creative efforts.

 

Buy The Tutor Here:

eBook:

Totally Bound Publishing

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

Amazon DE

Barnes & Noble

iBooks UK

iBooks US

Google Books

Kobo

 

Print:

Totally Bound Publishing

Amazon UK

Amazon US

 

 

Sweet! The Tutor is Number One!

 

That’s right! The Tutor is number one on the Amazon UK romantic erotica chart! I just had to share my good news. With The Tutor on Sale for the next month at 99 p/c, I’ll take that as a very good sign.

 

You can find all those details at this Tutor link.

 

And just because the lovely folks at Totally Bound wanted to help me celebrate and spread the news, here is the lovely graphic to commemorate the occasion.

 

 

 

 

And because such an occasion should be properly celebrated with something sweet, Lex Valentine’s cook, Cookie, has given me permission to share with you something truly, deliciously sweet — her recipe for Lex’s favourite cookies — Snickerdoodles. (Mine too, I have to admit) Yup, you guessed it, the woman gets her nick name because not only is she a fabulous cook, but she loves to bake cookies. Rumour has it that Nick Fury has commandeered her to work undercover for the Avengers from time to time when she’s not making great cookies. She makes Snickerdoodles for Lex when he’s had a particularly bad day … or when he’s had a particularly good day. I’m sure she’d agree, this has been a particularly good day.

 

Cookie’s Snickerdoodles

1/2 cup butter softened

1/2 cup shortening or oil

1 1/2 cup sugar

2 eggs

2 3/4 cups of all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons Cream of Tartar

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons sugar

2 teaspoons cinnamon

Heat oven to 400 degrees F/ 205 C

Mix thoroughly butter, shortening, 1 1/2 cups sugar and eggs.

Blend in flour, cream of tartar, baking soda and salt.

Shape dough into soft balls using tablespoon.

Mix 2 tablespoons of sugar with cinnamon and roll balls in mixture.

Place 2 inches apart on uncreased baking sheet. Bake for 8-10 minutes or until set.

Remove immediately from baking sheet.

Enjoy!

And just because I want to savour the moment with my Snickerdoodles and coffee, here is the screen shot proof.

 

Why Angels? Janine Ashbless Discusses Her New Release, In Bonds of the Earth

In Bonds of the EarthIt’s an absolute pleasure to have one of my favourite writers on my blog today. Please welcome Janine Ashbless as she talks about her new release, In Bonds of the Earth, the 2nd instalment of her Book of the Watchers trilogy. I asked Janine why she chose to write about angels, and here’s what she had to say.

Why Angels?

Janine Ashbless

“The story as I know it isn’t told from the point of view of the guys in the white hats. Azazel is one of the damned. Which means, I guess, that I am too.”

— In Bonds of the Earth

I’m no stranger to using mythology in my erotica and erotic romance. I’ve taken inspiration from Celtic, Greek, Islamic, Hindu, French, Persian, East European and Ancient Sumerian myths and folklore lore … and that’s just off the top of my head.

And since my first Medusa story in my very first collection back in 2000, my subtext has been “The gods are a right bunch of bastards.”

But with my Book of the Watchers trilogy about fallen angels, I got to grips for the first time with Judeo-Christian mythology. Now I come from a born-again Protestant family background myself, so in many ways I was familiar with the tropes – but I also discovered I had a lot to learn.

And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose. – Genesis 6: 1-2

Now isn’t that just crying out for an erotic novel spin-off?!

Angels (the “sons of God,”) are intermediaries and messengers between God and humanity. We are made, according to the writers of Psalms and Hebrews, “a little lower than the angels.” So they’re presumably better than us, or more powerful, or both. They can appear in naturalistic human form (like they did to visit Lot in the city of Sodom) but according to Ezekiel’s crazy visions of heaven, and The Revelation of St. John, they’re not naturally humanoid – they’re described in terms of wings and eyes and wheels turning within wheels, flames and chimerical animals.

Yet clearly, when human, they’re capable of human lust. Now that is a writer’s dream – the warring instincts of the spiritual and the physical; obedience to God versus personal desires; the fraught relationship between angel masters and human wives and children; the whole question of free will and original sin. In fact, Biblically, angels have a pretty poor track record of obedience (just like humans!). Since Satan is held in Christian belief to be a former angel, clearly they are capable of rebellion. He’s supposed to have led legions into the Fall from Heaven!

Now that’s really interesting.

Imagine you’re an angel. You’ve been in the actual presence of God and know all its manifold joys. You know first hand His omniscience, His glory, His justice, all the infinite riches of Heaven. And yet, despite having no hope of winning any fight with Almighty God, you choose to rebel.

You. Choose. To Rebel. Anyway.

Why?

That’s fascinating, from a writer’s point of view. Characters with complex backgrounds, conflicting desires and warring motivations are irresistible. Add to that the theme of angels and humans engaged in sexual relationships and trying to understand each other despite all their differences, and well… I may have found my perfect subject matter.

(Also, when I’m looking for inspiration, this sort of thing doesn’t hurt )

 

 

Xxx

Janine

 

Would you defy God, for love?

 

Broad at the shoulders and lean at the hips, six foot-and-then-something of ropey muscle, he looks like a Spartan god who got lost in a thrift store. He moves like ink through water. And his eyes, when you get a good look at them, are silver. Not gray. Silver. You might take their inhuman shine for fancy contact lenses. Youd be wrong.

 

Janine Ashbless is back with the second in her paranormal erotic romance Book of the Watchers trilogy: In Bonds of the Earth.

 

Unafraid to tackle the more complex issues surrounding good and evil in mainstream religion, Janine has created a thought-provoking and immersive novel which sets a new standard for paranormal erotic romance. The first in the series, Cover Him With Darkness, was released in 2014 by Cleis Press and received outstanding reviews.

 

In Bonds of the Earth is published by Sinful Press and is due for release on March 1st, 2017.

 

In Bonds of the Earth Blurb:

“I will free them all.”

 

When Milja Petak released the fallen angel Azazel from five thousand years of imprisonment, she did it out of love and pity. She found herself in a passionate sexual relationship beyond her imagining and control – the beloved plaything of a dark and furious demon who takes what he wants, when he wants, and submits to no restraint. But what she hasn’t bargained on is being drawn into his plan to free all his incarcerated brothers and wage a war against the Powers of Heaven.

As Azazel drags Milja across the globe in search of his fellow rebel angels, Milja fights to hold her own in a situation where every decision has dire consequences. Pursued by the loyal Archangels, she is forced to make alliances with those she cannot trust: the mysterious Roshana Veisi, who has designs of her own upon Azazel; and Egan Kansky, special forces agent of the Vatican – the man who once saved then betrayed her, who loves her, and who will do anything he can to imprison Azazel for all eternity.

 

Torn every way by love, by conflicting loyalties and by her own passions, Milja finds that she too is changing – and that she must do things she could not previously have dreamt of in order to save those who matter to her.

 

In Bonds of the Earth is the second in the Book of the Watchers trilogy and the sequel to Cover Him With Darkness.

 

 

In Bonds of the Earth Excerpt:

 

I was giving my long-dreaded presentation on the anniversary footbridge to Misters Ellis, Singh, Constanzo and Mackenzie…when Azazel walked in.

Oh hell.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said loudly, lurching around from behind my desk, grabbing Azazel’s arm and spinning him back to face the door. “Not here, come on, please,” I implored through clenched teeth.

If there was one thing I’d learned by then, it was to not ignore warning dreams. If I’d paid them more attention from the start, things between me and Egan might have gone very differently back in Montenegro…

No, better not to think of Egan, not when Azazel was around. One guy at a time was quite enough to wrap my head around. Especially this guy.

He humored me though, this time, letting me pull him out of the meeting room and through the open plan office without resistance. We attracted a lot of stares, but there was nothing I could do about that except hold my head high.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Out. Anywhere.”

“You’re so impetuous.”

I didn’t need to glance up at his wicked smirk. I could feel it burning its way into my breast.

Bryce, the beardy guy in my new team who’d shown me the ropes of the job and seemed just a tiny bit too eager to talk every morning, stood up from his cubicle to intercept us. “Milja, is everything okay?”

“It’s just fine,” I rasped, towing Azazel faster.

“She’s insatiable,” my demon lover confided with a helpless shrug to my colleague as we swept past.

Bryce stared, mouth open.

“Goddamnit,” I muttered, and Azazel chuckled.

Sometimes it was hard to remember that he’d risked everything to save me.

We reached the doors at the end of the room and I pushed through, past the lobby with the elevators and into the concrete stairwell of the emergency stairs beyond. The only people who came here were smokers on their way to the roof, and it looked empty for now. My panicky momentum fizzled away and I swung to face him.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think?” he countered, taking my face in his hands.

“Azazel—” But he cut off my protests with his hungry kiss; a kiss that lanced through me all the way to my core. I gave up resisting, and speaking, and almost breathing, as his lust rolled over me in a hot wet wave. I slid my hands around his neck and tangled my fingers in his messy hair, pulling myself into his embrace. His body was hard as rock, his hands heavy on my waist and hips. The yearning for his touch that smoldered in my flesh day and night woke to a roaring heat.

I’d missed him. His skin, his smile, the peppery scent and salt taste of him. The sweetness of his lips and the harsh rasp of his stubbled chin. I’d missed him so much—like an addict missing her hit.

 

Buy In Bonds of the Earth Here:

Ebook:

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bonds-Earth-Book-Watchers-ebook/dp/B01N6W7EL4

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Bonds-Earth-Book-Watchers-ebook/dp/B01N6W7EL4

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/in-bonds-of-the-earth/id1201654085?mt=11

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/in-bonds-of-the-earth

 

Print:

Sinful Press: https://sinfulpress.co.uk/product/in-bonds-of-the-earth-by-janine-ashbless/

Waterstones: https://www.waterstones.com/book/in-bonds-of-the-earth/janine-ashbless/9781910908082

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-bonds-of-the-earth-janine-ashbless/1125264279?ean=9781910908082

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Bonds-Earth-Book-Watchers/dp/1910908088

 

In Bonds of the Earth will be available from all major online bookstores in both digital and print. Please contact Lisa Jenkins at admin@sinfulpress.co.uk for any further information.

 

About Janine:

Janine AshblessJanine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

 

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.

 

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

 

Her work has been described as:

“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa)

 

Find Janine Here:

Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/

Janine Ashbless blog: http://janineashbless.blogspot.co.uk/

Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless

Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk

 

 

Celebrate Our Latest Releases with Kay Jaybee & Me at Sh! Women’s Store

 

 

I’m very excited to invite all of you, to celebrate with Kay Jaybee and me as we launch our latest novellas. We’ll be celebrating the release of Kay’s Wednesday on Thursday and my Toys for Boys. And what better venue for a celebration than one of our favourite places on the planet, Sh! Women’s Store! It feels like coming home.

 

You’re all invited along to party with us and enjoy a glass of fizz while we read titillating tidbits from our latest, answer questions  and recall some of the insane adventures we’ve shared on the wild ride of writing erotica. And don’t worry, we’ll make sure you have plenty of time for some shopping and browsing in this gorgeous, deliciously naughty shop. That’s half the fun of partying at Sh!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Date: Friday 24th March

 

Time: 6.30-8pm

 

Address: Sh! 57 Hoxton Square, London N1 6PB

 

Price: FREE

 

Book your ticket here: Eventbrite

 

Spaces are limited so make sure you book today and celebrate with us.

 

 

 

 

Toys for Boys Launches Today!

 

I’m very excited to announce the launch of my M/M novella, Toys for Boys, just in time for Valentine’s Day. If you like some serious hot male bonding fun al fresco, then you’ll enjoy T4B.

Toys for Boys was a fantastic opportunity to revisit one of my very favourite holidays of all times — our Coast to Coast walk across England. One of the best parts of doing the Wainwright Coast to Coast Path was that it was mostly low tech – good walking gear and navigation skills and putting one foot in front of the other. That meant a feeling of accomplishment at the end of each day and it meant that my husband and I didn’t miss the finer moments because our noses were buried in our iPhones.

Will and Doc’s story is one of adventures with high tech while being very creative with low tech at the same time. That combo made for fun and sexy writing.

Here’s a sizzler of an excerpt for your reading pleasure.

 

 

High tech meets low tech in a wilderness adventure that sizzles

 


Toys for Boys Blurb:

Alpha nerd Will Charles teams up with Caridoc ‘Doc’ Jones in a coast to coast walk across England reviewing outdoor gift suggestions for the Christmas edition of Toys for Boys—an online magazine dedicated to the latest gadgets to tickle a man’s fancy. Will is recording their adventures with the latest smart phone technology. Doc is reviewing the latest outdoor gear. The two quickly discover the great outdoors provides even better toys for boys, toys best shared al fresco, toys that, in spite of Will’s great camera work, will never be reviewed in Toys for Boys.

Note: Toys for Boys has been previously published as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.

 

 

 

Toys for Boys Excerpt:

“We’re not going to make Ennerdale tonight,” Doc yelled into the wind.

Will’s answer was incoherent, an incoherence that wasn’t entirely because the wind was interfering with Doc’s hearing. They’d already got lost once and had fought their way back to the trail. Doc was fucking freezing, but he had spent enough time outdoors in bad weather to push his body way further than most people could. No matter how fit Will was, Doc recognised the signs of hypothermia when he saw them. They had to get out of the weather and get warm.

They lost the trail twice more before Doc made the executive decision to set up a tent in the first spot halfway flat. To his surprise it had been the damn urBrain that had saved the day. Will had downloaded detailed, interactive OS maps, but in his condition, Doc doubted if he could read his own name in bold letters, let alone the contours of a map. He’d pried the device, safe from the weather in its own little waterproof sheath, from Will’s icy hands and, with the light from the screen, he was able to find a wooded area relatively flat and as shielded from the weather as they were likely to get. The rain turned to hail and the Arctic wind made it feel like bird shot against all bits of exposed skin as Doc struggled to set up the tent. He’d shoved another energy bar at Will, and when he’d only stood there looking at it, Doc had opened it and half crammed it down his throat before he went back to work on shelter, desperate to get Will out of the weather.

Once the tent was secure, he chucked the bags inside, then grabbed Will by the collar and dragged him into the tight little space.

The energy bar must have helped. Will seemed coherent enough. “I can’t feel my hands,” he said, battling to get his sleeping bag out of its waterproof sack.

“Give me that,” Doc said through chattering teeth. “Let me do it. My hands aren’t all delicate and dainty like yours.”

“Would you look at that?” Will said as Doc grabbed the bag. “Amazingly, my middle finger works just fine.” He flipped him off.

“So does your smart mouth.” Without thinking, Doc zipped the two bags together.

“What are you doing?” Will was suddenly serious.

“You’re hypothermic. Get your wet clothes off and get into the bag.”

“Oh. Right.” But Will could no more manage the buttons and zippers on his clothing than he could his sleeping bag.
This time when Doc shoved his hands away and pushed the waterproof jacket off his shoulders, Will only watched, eyes focussed on the process as though it were something totally new to him. Doc cursed the fiddly buttons on the man’s shirt, his own hands none too agile from the cold and wet and the fact that he was undressing Will fucking Charles, about whom he’d been having less than pristine thoughts since his first view of the man’s arse. Will fucking Charles with whom he was about to cuddle down into a sleeping bag butt naked, never mind that it was with good reason.

Will sucked in a harsh breath. “Your damned hands are like ice cubes, Woodsy.”

“Oh shut it, William, or I’ll kick your arse outside and make you sleep in the rain.”

“Fucking like to see you try.” Will’s teeth were chattering hard, and his whole body trembling from the cold as Doc worried the shorts down over his commando bum and found himself face to cock, which made the blighter burst into hysterical laughter. “Have we ulterior motives, Mr Jones? Where the hell’s urBrain? I have to get this on camera.”

“Want a selfie of your cock, do you, you shivering bastard?” Doc turned his attention to the walking boots, which had stopped all progress of getting the man naked. Focusing on something other than the naked, very vulnerable body of Will fucking Charles helped clear his mind. He was too cold, too tired to get hard over what was essentially a matter of life and death, he told himself. Surely!

Once the boots were dispensed with, he shoved the man into the sleeping bag and went about the awkward business of stripping himself.

“Where the hell is the urBrain when I need it?” Will chuckled between chattering teeth.

“You point that thing at me, and I’ll shove it up your arse.” Doc’s own teeth sounded like a couple of spastic tap dancers had been turned loose in his mouth.

“Now that’s a function I didn’t find in the instruction manual,” Will replied.

What started out as ribald comments on the shrivelling effect of the cold on male tender bits dwindled to nothing more than the sound of convulsive shivering. By the time Doc had shed the last of his clothes and shoved his way down next to Will, he was seriously worried. It took all his strength, which wasn’t a helluva lot at that moment, to pull the bloke into his arms and hold him close enough to share body heat, what little there was of it. The worry subsided a bit when Will threw his arms around his neck and gave a harsh chuckle against his throat. “This was seriously worth getting hypothermic for. Pity I’m too fucking tired to appreciate it.”

Though Doc agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment, his focus was on getting Will warm. Then he’d get out the backpacking stove and fix them something hot. That was the last thing he remembered, that and the feel of Will’s body shivering against him, in the tent redolent with the male scent of core heat and wet gear, all overlaid by the icy metal smell of the fells in a storm.

 

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© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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