Tag Archives: anthology

Get A Valentine for Christmas: Cariad’s Holiday Collection, LOVE UNDER THE MISTLETOE is FREE!

Cariad Christmas 2014 CollectionWho doesn’t love a good holiday read? And who doesn’t love a good holiday gift? I’m very excited to offer both all wrapped up in a nice red ribbon. How about a nice Valentine for Christmas … er maybe something Christmasy for Valentine’s Day. Love Under the Mistletoe is FREE through Sunday!

 

 

Inside Love Under the Mistletoe:

Four festive treats from some of Accent’s best-selling authors, that are guaranteed to warm you up at Christmas.

Christmas For OneElizabeth Coldwell

A jilted bride discovers just how exciting the single life can be when she goes on her honeymoon alone, and finds herself the object of affection in Hawaii.

Snowed InAlice Raine

Housecleaner Allie unexpectedly finds herself snowed in with a mysterious man with a secret he refuses to share, and with only each other as company, attraction sparks between them…

The Sharpness of HollyDemelza Hart

A family Christmas reunites Holly with her estranged sister and her new boyfriend Daniel – but when sparks fly between Holly and the taken older man, can she resist temptation or will it prove a Christmas to be remembered?

A Valentine For Christmas – KD Grace

An anonymous gift-giver brings businessman Gerard Jasper the Christmas he’ll never forget when his present comes dressed in nothing but a red ribbon…

 

In Cariad’s holiday collection, Love Under the Mistletoe, you can have both A Valentine for Christmas and Christmas for Valentine’s Day! Along with my novella, A Valentine for Christmas, you get fab sexy novellas from Liz Coldwell, Alice Raine and Demelza Hart! Go ahead! Treat yourself to something fun, sexy and festive.

 

And here’s a little sexy sneak peek of my novella, A Valentine for Christmas. Enjoy! And Happy Valentine’s Day! 

Valentine 2

 

 

Blurb: A Valentine for Christmas

All work and no play, bah humbugging CEO, Gerard Jasper’s, anonymous Christmas gift is actually a Valentine — Moira ‘R.M.’ Valentine, the mysterious CEO of the Valentine Corporation. Moira’s walk on the wild side has accidentally landed her naked and bound with red ribbon under Gerard’s tree – not good when their companies are negotiating the deal of a lifetime. When two lonely people with enough baggage to fill a 747 come together for Christmas, the fireworks rivals New Years at Times Square, but can they overcome their pasts to give each other the true gift — a merger of hearts?

 

 

Excerpt A Valentine for Christmas:

It was late when Gerard got home – even later than he’d anticipated, but that was fine. Being tired enough to sleep for a week made facing the next few days a lot easier. He shoved out of his jacket and slung it over the ladder-back chair by the door, then loosened his tie, somehow not finding the strength to actually remove it completely. Ignoring the evergreen bunting strung across the balcony above the stairs, he made his way into his study. From the credenza across from his desk, he poured himself a whiskey, neat, then dropped into the Cordovan leather chair beside the fireplace. He tossed back the shot, then closed his eyes. He only intended to rest them for a few minutes before he went to the kitchen where he knew Olga had left food prepared for him. He’d specifically overseen the menu this time to make certain not a slice of turkey nor a smidge of cranberry sauce darkened the fridge. It was bad enough his apartment was decked out like Rockefeller Center, but at least he could dictate his own meals.

Yes, he had only planned to close his eyes for a minute, but it was a scuffling sound and a soft moan that startled him from sleep and from dreams of falling into deep, icy water. He opened his eyes and looked around. In the silence he could hear heavy breathing. There was another moan. He exhaled slowly and looked around the room. Carefully, cautiously, he leaned forward in the chair, wrapped his fingers around the poker in front of the fireplace and pulled it free from its stand. Holding his breath, he came slowly to his feet.

There was more scuffling and a sharp, low grunt. It sounded as though it were coming from behind the Christmas tree. Fucking tree was a health hazard, a fire hazard, and Twyla never stopped to think that it was perfect for a thief to hide behind, though how the hell anyone could have gotten past his security was beyond him. He tightened his grip on the poker and raised it like a baseball bat. Bracing himself, he took a step forward, but the next moan he heard was decidedly feminine and it was coming from under the tree! With a quick movement, he reached for the lamp near the chair and switched it on, and the moan became a little yelp of surprise.

‘What the …’ Words died in his mouth as he lowered his arm and dropped the poker against the chair. He blinked twice then rubbed his eyes. Surely he still had to be dreaming. Though this dream beat the hell out of the usual drowning dream. There was another moan and, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized it came from the woman lying on her side under the tree. She was completely naked except for the red velvet ribbons that seductively bound her wrists and her ankles. The only other thing she wore was a sprig of mistletoe pinned in the muss of thick dark hair that fell over her shoulders partially obscuring breasts that were obviously full enough to balance the rest of a figure that curved dangerously in all the right places. Even in that confused post-wake-up state, Gerard’s cock got the picture just fine, thank you! But what the hell was a naked woman doing tied up beneath his Christmas tree?

Before he could ask, the woman moaned again – louder this time – and doubled over as though she were in pain.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ He asked, dropping to his knees, forgetting the fact that this chick had invaded his privacy.

‘Oh, God!’ She gasped. ‘It’s my leg. I have a cramp. In my left hip and it’s making my butt numb.’ She bit back a curse that he was pretty sure would have curled his hair if she’d let it fly. But he figured perhaps she was on her best behavior – red ribbons, mistletoe and all.

It was then that both he and his cock remembered, at exactly the same time, that she was tied up. He was in complete control. He settled on his haunches and folded his arms across his chest. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ He asked.

She moaned again and tried to shift to a more comfortable position, which made her breasts bounce and her hair slide away to reveal nipples darkened and stiff atop goose-fleshed areolae. ‘I’m your Christmas present.’

He blinked. ‘My what?’

Mistletoe‘Christmas present? You know, happy holidays, noel, peace on earth … ouch! Oh hell that hurts.’ She hissed between barely parted lips and writhed in a way that should have made him sympathetic, but only made him hornier. ‘Could you please untie me so I can take care of this cramp.’

‘My Christmas present?’

‘Yup. Ouch! Ow! Please!’

‘From whom?’ Oh fuck, the more she shifted and shimmied, the more her breasts bounced and they were exquisite, and the more they bounced, the more of his brain function rerouted itself to his cock.

‘I don’t know,’ she bit back. ‘It’s a surprise.’

‘Clearly,’ he said. ‘But how do I know you’re for real?’ Surely Terrill and Twyla wouldn’t be so cheeky. Would they? He added quickly, ‘How do I know that the minute I untie you, you won’t try shoot me and rob me?’

She gave him a sour look. ‘Seriously? Where would I put a gun?’

His eyes followed down the curves of her body to the juncture between her legs with its tight nest of dark curls.

Whatever it was she was about to say, she swallowed it and offered a forced smile that was not quite coquettish, and all the sexier for it. ‘You’re welcome to frisk me.’ She nodded down over he belly. ‘Just please untie me so I can work out this damned cramp.’

He studied her for a long moment while she writhed and bit a full bottom lip he found himself wanting to taste. ‘It was pretty ballsy of someone, anyone really, to send me a prostitute as a Christmas present.’ He leaned forward. ‘I don’t need to buy sex, you know?’

‘I’m not a prostitute and you’re not buying me.’ She sucked back a sharp breath. ‘I’m a gift. Pleeeeese,’ she begged, ‘Untie me.’

‘I don’t need a gift. I didn’t ask for a gift.’

‘Of course you didn’t ask. That’s why they call it a gift.’ She practically bounced off the floor as another wave of pain hit.

‘I still don’t trust you,’ he said. ‘But I don’t like to see a woman in pain either.’ He heaved a hard-put-upon sigh and leaned forward, pulling her into his arms. She yelped as he scrambled to his feet and moved to the leather sofa in front of the fireplace. But instead of laying her down on it, he sat and turned her over his knee. What the hell was he doing? He should untie her, toss her in a taxi and send her on her way.

‘You’re gonna spank me?’ her voice came out high pitched and breathy. ‘I haven’t done anything.’

‘Might do, if you give me any grief,’ he said, realizing too late that draped across his lap as she was, she could definitely feel his erection. Well she was naked, wasn’t she? And he was a healthy male. How the hell was he supposed to respond? Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been expecting to make him hard. ‘So tell me now,’ he said, keeping his voice as neutral as he did in the boardroom in spite of the message his body was giving, ‘where does it hurt?’

‘My left hip, part of my butt cheek and my upper thigh, where I was lying against the floor.’ Before he could respond, she wriggled her exquisite bottom and his cock surged beneath her. He swallowed back a tight moan. If she really were a Christmas gift, even he had to admit, she was the best he could ever remember getting.

‘Ow! Ow! Ow!’ she interrupted his silent admiration with a squrim and a curse, her bottom shimmying and thrusting her hips close to his very intrigued erection. ‘Do something! It hurts!’

Awkwardly, not knowing where to touch first, he began by massaging handfuls of well-muscled, perfectly rounded female hip; the feel nearly took his breath away.

‘Oh God! Oh God! Ow! Ow! Oh God! A little more on my butt,’ then she glanced over her shoulder when he stopped massaging. ‘Look either untie me and let me take care of it myself or massage. It hurts!’

‘You’re pretty bossy for a sub,’ he said. ‘Maybe I should spank you.’

‘I don’t care if you spank me, but just take care of the cramp first. Besides who said I was a sub?’

‘Well, aren’t you? You were all tied up.’

She jerked and nearly bucked off his lap. ‘Look I’ll be a sub, I’ll be a dom, I’ll bark like a dog if you want me to, just please massage already!’

It didn’t take many kneading handfuls of pliant bottom and thigh before he realized his mistake. The more he massaged, the more she squirmed and moaned across his lap and the harder it became for him to ignore his growing need – especially not with her running commentary.

‘Oh God! Oh God, yes! That feels so good. Ah! Ooooh! Yessss!’

He was just about to relent and untie her in order to preserve what remained of his dignity when she stopped moving, causing his hands to still on her bottom. Then she dragged in a shaky breath and gave a little wiggle. ‘Do you want me to take care of you?’

 

Download Your FREE Copy of Love Under the Mistletoe Here:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

 

Launch Day for SEXY JUST GOT RICH, the Brit Babes’ Latest Anthology

BBBillionaires4

The Brit Babes are all very excited. Today, we’re celebrating the launch of our new anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich!
When the Brit Babes decided to do Billionaires, they decided it was time to look at billionaires in different shades than grey. Not all billionaires are created equal, and they don’t all look, nor act the way you’d expect.

And now you can find out for yourselves just how the Brit Babes do billionaires in their sizzling new anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich! 90,000 very sexy, very naughty, very rich words about billionaires as you’ve never seen them before. Go an, indulge in the decadence! Enjoy a bevy of billionaires the Brit Babes way.

Sexy Just Got Rich Trailer!

 

(Thanks, Tabitha!)

 

Sexy Just Got Rich Blurb:

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand
new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

Buying the Farm Blurb: 

Cassie Fielding is at her wits end trying to save the family farm from bankruptcy after her father’s illness. But when Sexy Just Got RichCassie returns from university, she finds that, in spite of their financial situation, her father has hired the mysterious, Simon Dennis to help run the place. As Cassie and the new hired hand experience an unprecedented heat wave of lust, Cassie comes to suspects that her father and Simon may be in cahoots with their own plan to save the farm, and the whole scheme depends on her.

Buying the Farm Excerpt:

By the time she rounded the hill near the barn, and the cabin came into view, she was already anticipating a little self-

loving on the porch swing, a guilty pleasure she’d indulged in ever since she discovered what the surprising combination of the rocking of the swing and the stroking of that soft warm spot between her legs could lead to. She couldn’t think of a better way to unwind and get her mind off things. Her nipples were already peeking and her crotch was warming to the plan as she rounded the barn. But as the path curved between the two oak trees her great grandfather had planted, and the front of the cabin came into view, she stopped short, swallowing a yelp before it gave her away.

There in the porch swing, sat a stranger. Cassie quickly stepped back into the shadows before he could see her. Christ almighty, the stranger was very naked and very occupied, clearly having the same thing in mind she did. Before she could panic the realization hit her. This was her father’s new hired hand. Had to be. He hadn’t told her that the man was living on the farm. She stood close enough that she could make out the rise and fall of his bare chest beneath dark erect nipples set high on tightly puckered areole. Not only had her father neglected to tell her how they would pay a hired hand, but he also hadn’t bothered to tell her that said hired hand was very easy on the eyes – every exquisite inch of him. He sat with his legs open, one hand caressing an impressive erection, the other kneading weighty balls. His eyes were closed, face raised to the moonlight. The shifting of his hips gave the swing just that perfect motion that Cassie had taken advantage of ever since she discovered self-pleasure.

She blinked hard. Surely she was dreaming. But her hand had already found its way up under her skirt. It was all she could do to stifle the moan of pleasure as she wriggled two fingers into the swell of her, dipping and probing until they were slippery enough to tweak and circle her anxious clit. In the meantime her hips had instinctively taken up the gentle rock and glide motion of the swing.

The man’s efforts became more energetic as he thrust his cock faster in the fisted grip of his hand, lifting his sculpted ass off the seat with each thrust. His other hand now braced against the back of the swing to keep him from catapulting out with his pleasurings. His balls shifted atop his thighs with each bump and grind of his hips. My God, he was about to come! And she was about to stand there and watch.

 

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eBook:
Coming 10th February

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks
Kobo
Smashwords

Sexy Just Got Rich Now Available for Pre-Order!

BBBillionaires2
Billionaires are always a hot topic in romance, and never more so than now with 50SoG film about to be released. But not all billionaires are created equal, and they don’t all look like you’d expect. When the Brit Babes decided to do Billionaires, they decided it was time to look at billionaires in different shades than grey.

And now, the Brit Babes’ new anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich, is available for pre-order! 90,000 very sexy, very naughty, very rich words about billionaires as you’ve never seen them before. Go an, indulge in the decadence! Enjoy a bevy of billionaires with a Brit Babes slant.

Blurb

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

Buying the Farm Blurb: 

Cassie Fielding is at her wits end trying to save the family farm from bankruptcy after her father’s illness. But when Cassie returns from university, she finds that, in spite of their financial situation, her father has hired the mysterious, Simon Dennis to help run the place. As Cassie and the new hired hand experience an unprecedented heat wave of lust, Cassie comes to suspects that her father and Simon may be in cahoots with their own plan to save the farm, and the whole scheme depends on her.

Buying the Farm Excerpt:

When Simon came to her, she was standing with her back to the open sliding door, arms braced against the stalls they sexyjustgotrich cover
had renovated. He wanted to breed horses – not on a grand scale, but mostly as an experiment in the beginning, a part of their plan to diversify. The planning was still in the early stages, but it was filled, like most of their plans for Fielding Farm, with exciting possibilities.           

‘I’m sorry, Cassie.’ For a long time he stood silhouetted in the door, his shadow stretching out before him, merging with the gloom of the barn. Then he moved to stand behind her, slipping his arms carefully around her waist, as though he feared she might turn on him. In truth, she wasn’t sure his fears weren’t justified.

At last, she relaxed and leaned her head back against his shoulders, feeling his sigh of relief, warm and humid on the soft flesh of her neck. ‘Is any of what he said true?’

‘Some of it, yes. I wanted to buy Fielding Farm. I made your father a very generous offer, one I didn’t think he could refuse.’

‘But he did.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper.

‘Well, not exactly.’ He kissed her ear and tightened his hold just slightly, not sure what her response would be. ‘He told me he wouldn’t consider any offer until I’d worked as his hired hand for six months.’

Cassie laughed in spite of herself. ‘And then he threw in the farmer’s daughter to sweeten the deal?’

He nuzzled her neck and kissed her just below her ear, sending shivers down her spine, and she pressed back against him. ‘I think he knew all along what would happen. I think he knew that when I got to know the farmer’s daughter, I’d want it all, lock stock and barrel, and buying the farm was gonna cost me way more than I expected to pay.’ One hand moved up to cup her breast and for a long second, he seemed to have lost himself in the soft flesh of her nape and along the top of her shoulder. ‘But Christ,’ he breathed against her throat, ‘it’s worth the price.’

She huffed out a laugh, then sucked a tight breath as he gave her nipple a hard role with his thumb, and it engorged still further. ‘Blisters, bruises, broken nails, aches pains, mud and muck, shoveling shit.’ She grunted as his other hand migrated up under her dress to worry its way in between her thighs. ‘Have I forgotten anything?’

‘How about long hard days of lusting after the farmer’s daughter.’ He moaned. ‘God it’s hard to ride a tractor with a full sac and a hard-on that’s about to burst my fly. You have no idea how hard it is to keep from stopping the tractor and getting some relief. But I hold it, Cass. I hold it all because I know I get to come home and fuck the farmer’s daughter, the hired hand’s wife, at the end of the day. I know that I get to give it all to you, and you’ll take it – all of it, happily.’ He caught his breath in a tight little gasp, as his fingers parted her labia. ‘And then here you are all wet and swollen and angry, and not wearing any underwear. Christ, Cassie! What you do to me.’

She only heard about half of what he said, breathing as hard as she was, wanting as badly as she did.

‘You’re like a mare in heat, you know that?’ He said, raking her swollen clit with his thumb and pushing her legs apart with his knee. ‘Every time I’m around you, my cock takes charge, and I know you’re deep and slick and ready for me.’ He hissed between his teeth as she gave the two fingers he’d maneuvered to thrust up inside her a grip and squeeze. ‘I spend my time with my cock at half mast living for the next time I can mount my mare and empty my load.’

With a slight of hand, she hadn’t seen coming, he grabbed both of her wrists in one big fist and bound them efficiently with a soft lead-rope that hung next to the stall. Then he tied the rope to the rail. Half panicked, and more than totally aroused, she strained to look over her shoulder. ‘Simon? What are you doing?’

He bit her neck and she yelped and if it were possible became even more aware of her heavy fullness.

‘Sometimes a mare’s a bit too flighty to stand still while her stud mounts her.’ She heard the zip of his fly and then he shoved her dress up over her hips, exposing her ass to the cool air of the barn. As he fingered her open from behind, he spoke in a breathless rush. ‘Oh she wants him. She needs him so bad, but she needs a little gentle persuasion to sweeten her, to calm her just enough for her stud to service her well.’ And then he pushed into her deep and hard, forcing her up onto her tiptoes, forcing her cheek and shoulder up tight against the fresh wood of the stall, thrusting with as much rage and anger and lust as she felt. He nipped her neck again and when he spoke between thrusts, his voice was little more than a harsh whisper. ‘I may be an asshole. That may well run in the Dennis family, but I’m your asshole, Cassie, and I plan to service you well and often.’

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4

Sexy Just Got Rich is Available for Pre-order from:

eBook:
Coming 10th February

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks
Kobo
Smashwords

Mind Seed – Remembering Denni

I’m especially honoured to have author and editor, David Gullen as guest blogger today. Dave is here to talk about Mind Seed, The science fiction anthology he co-edited along with Gary Couzens. The anthology is a memorial to Denni Schnapp, a brilliant woman, gifted writer, and a lovely person.  Denni was a member of the London  writing group I had the privileged to be a part of for several years. After Denni’s untimely death, the group decided to honour her memory in a way I’m sure Denni would have appreciated, and David Gullen is here to talk about that very special memorial and the woman it honours. Welcome Dave.

***

Helen Callaghan Sex Hive mindproduct_thumbnailEditing and publishing Mind Seed was a real privilege and a big learning experience. Above all we wanted to create an anthology that would be a fitting tribute to the person who inspired the project – Denni Schnapp.

Denni was a remarkable person, an adventurous and independent traveller, highly self-motivated, a very capable zoologist (Oxford & St Andrews), with a love of field work and freshwater cetaceans – all things her husband John Howroyd writes of in his Introduction.

She also struggled. Her own life wasn’t easy, more than anything she wasn’t easy with herself, always driven to travel, to move on, searching for a place where she could be at peace. I’m not sure she ever believed she would find it, but she kept on looking until the day the effort became too much. Initial treatment for her depression only increased the severity, her underlying bipolar disorder was diagnosed too late.

Writing, her journal, and her science fiction, became a significant part of the ways Denni tried to heal herself. Her journal is a tragically difficult read, in contrast her fiction exuberantly roved the universe. Many of her stories were set on other worlds with complex and beautiful biologies. Her own piece in this anthology is a prequel to such a story, a novel that John and I plan to publish one day.

All the other authors who contributed to Mind Seed knew Denni in some way, some are members of the same writing group she belonged to. The writing is top quality. We have full-time professionals, award winners, and award-nominated authors. One person is published here for their first time, and theirs is without doubt the best debut story I can remember reading. Many of the stories are originals, written especially for this anthology, and themed on the subjects Denni was fascinated by in her own writing – travel and journey, interaction and transformation, strong characters and their weaknesses. Everyone gave their work for free.

It was inconceivable that we’d do anything other than give all money raised to charity. The one that meant most to Denni was Next Generation Nepal, an anti-child-trafficking charity, and so this is the one we chose.

Buy Mind Seed Here:

Mind Seed is available as a paperback and an e-book, from Lulu, and from Amazon in paperback and Kindle formats, and elsewhere. However, Lulu is where we raise most money per unit sale for our charity.

About David:

David Gullen was born in South Africa. Three years later his parents returned to England, and he was baptised by King Neptune when they crossed the equator. As a result his first girlfriend was a mermaid. Since then he has studied biology, worked as a van driver, dish-washer, armourer, leatherworker, and IT geek; and become the father of three children.

His novel, Shopocalypse, a near-future story of fast cars, consumerism and nuclear war, is available from Clarion Publishing. His short fiction has appeared in various magazines and anthologies, one of which was shortlisted for the James White Award, while another was an Aeon Award winner. His collection, Open Waters (theEXAGGERATEDpress), appeared in early 2014. He recently co-edited, designed and published, Mind Seed, an anthology of science fiction stories. He is represented by the John Jarrold Agency.

David lives in Surrey, England, with the fantasy writer Gaie Sebold, and too many tree ferns.

Find David Here:

http://davidgullen.com/

The Story behind Helen Callaghan’s Deliciously Chilling Story, Sex & the Single Hive Mind

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It’s a total pleasure to welcome my dear friend and fabulous writer, Helen Callaghan to A Hopeful Romantic to share a bit of the story behind one of my favourite short stories of all time, Sex and the Single Hive Mind. Even better still, the story is now available in the vibrant new Science Fiction anthology, Mind Seed and as a podcast with CrimeCity. Enjoy! –K D

*****

Sex and the Single Hive Mind is set in the near future. It’s a very dark story about Susannah Watson, a woman who is kidnapped and then made into an immobile living host for carnivorous algae that devours her. The result is then to be sold on as an illegal drug. All of which is terrible news for Susannah, of course, but has unforeseen side effects.

Believe it or not, it’s a comedy.

I wanted to write something about body theft – not Burke and Hare cadaver thieves, but something more like Invasion of the Body Snatchers – things that come from outside, and steal your body for their own wicked purposes.

Helen Callaghan Sex Hive mindproduct_thumbnailPersonally, I find that kind of thing terrifying. When Donald Sutherland starts that unearthly shrieking at the end of the movie, I freaked out as a kid.

It’s the exact same wellspring of horror that The Exorcist draws from – something that doesn’t mean you well now has control of you, while you look on, horrified. Whether you are locked in there still, or your own personal will simply evaporates, the terror lies in the loss of your agency, your control over your own flesh, the very thing that is dearest to you, and is indivisible from your sense of self.

In all of these cases, the reader’s sympathy lies absolutely with the possessee, if you like – the possessing entity barely has a motive, never mind a personality (spewing out pea soup and rude words hardly counts as character).

So I thought it might be kind of cool to explore the idea of body-snatching from the body snatcher’s point of view – in this case the point of view of a divorced middle-aged cat lady who suddenly finds herself with access to the bodies of the spoiled young things that have effectively murdered her.

And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t turn out that doing this was tons of fun, but nevertheless, there is, I think, a core of sadness – Susannah has access to their flesh and its pleasures, but can’t enjoy it because ultimately her victims all reflect only herself, and her attempt to use her newfound powers to reach out to her object of desire does not go as planned.

Her absurdity and loneliness, is, in a way, also similar to the loneliness of the writer and her characters. Characters, however fascinating, are still just creations, manifestations of a single will.

Anyway, the story appears in the anthology Mind Seed (http://www.lulu.com/gb/en/shop/edited-by-david-gullen-gary-couzens/mind-seed/paperback/product-21702685.html) edited by David Gullen and Gary Couzens. The book has been put together to remember Denni Schnapp, biologist, traveller, science fiction writer, and alongside me (www.helencallaghan.co.uk) a member of the T Party Writers group (http://tpartywriters.wordpress.com) based in London, which also included KD.

 

Excerpt from Sex and the Single Hive Mind:

It’s not Conor this time, but Imogen. Raoul and Conor and Imogen, named for the pretensions of their parents, carriers of their bougeousie. Colonised by them.

But for now, I’m dreaming Imogen. I know this because she’s in a tiny neat kitchen, looking at our mutual reflection in the darkened window. She still looks supercilious even with no-one on hand to disapprove of. I suspect that it might just be a cast of her features, something she can’t control but which her character does little to mitigate.

She’s washing dishes. She’s doing this very slowly, as she’s obviously drugged out of her tiny mind. I can taste the sharpness of cut grass in her mouth.

She’s eaten half a piece of steamed fish and boiled vegetables, without salt or pepper. I know this and am not sure how. My/her hands stir through warm soapy water.

Time to try it, then.

Her head raises, she looks into the window.

“My name is Susannah Watson.”

The words emerge without ceremony. I don’t know what I was expecting, to be honest. I thought perhaps there might be some sort of intense psychic battle, where I warred for dominance against her innate personality, but she doesn’t appear to have one. Her body is an empty house and I control it utterly, without let or hindrance.  The drug has reduced to her to a series of mannerisms, which fill her head like ugly furniture left behind by the previous tenants.

“My name is Susannah Watson,” I say again. My voice is a stranger’s, filled with unfamiliar music. “I am fifty-two years old. I am a detective in the Metropolitan Police, Smithfield division. I have two cats and one ex-husband. I have been… I am…”

My voice fades away.

Imogen stares back blankly at me from her reflection.  From my reflection.

It’s too much, too much, and I fly, back to my concrete room. I linger there, my consciousness circling above my green body, buzzing. I see what is happening. I have colonised the flies. They ate me, and I fill them. Spider-Girl ate the flies, and I filled her.

I understand, I think.

I gather myself. I tell myself, “I want to be Imogen now.”

Nothing happens.

“Take me to Imogen.”

I summon up the memory of being her, of hot soapy water over my hands, of the taste of cut grass.

I’m standing in the kitchen again, as if I had never left. She has not moved in the meantime, as far as I can tell, and a little trail of saliva drips down from the corner of her semi-open mouth.

I wipe it away with one of her wet, soapy hands, fascinated by her soft, unmarked skin against my face. She must be thirty years younger than me, at the very least.

“I am Susannah,” I say, and my voice rolls with confidence. I laugh then, and the girl in the window’s reflection laughs with me. In a bare instant, her superior squint vanishes and I shine out of her, like the sun breaking through fast passing clouds.

Enjoy a podcast of the complete Sex and the Single Hive Mind here:

http://www.starshipsofa.com/forums/topic/crime-city-central-no-109-helen-callaghan/

 

*****

 

The anthology, Mind Seed,  celebrates Denni’s interests and all of the proceeds go to Next Generation Nepal (http://www.nextgenerationnepal.org), who are an anti-child trafficking organization. We had the launch at LonCon 3 in the ExCel centre in London, and we’re all very proud of the book and hope it will do well.

 

Buy Mind Seed Here: 

Amazon UK

Lulu.com

 

Helen CallaghanAbout Helen Callaghan: 

Helen Callaghan writes genre fic­tion inspired by her love of intel­li­gent books and brain­less movies. Her first novel, Mephistophela, is set in a near-future Lon­don and inspired by ele­ments of Marlowe’s Doc­tor Faus­tus. She is cur­rently work­ing on Bethan Avery, a psychological thriller about a teacher who receives letters from a (presumed) murder victim.

She lives in Cambridge with a hamster called Zenobia, a beloved car, some muti­nous house­plants and too many books. Her per­sonal web­page and erratically updated blog describing the writing of Sleepwalker and Mephistophela is here. She is rep­re­sented by Judith Mur­ray atGreene and Heaton.