Tag Archives: Body Temperature and Rising

Grace Marshall has made An Executive Decision!

Grace Marshall has made An Executive Decision

Grace Marshall is  very happy to announce that An Executive Decision is now officially available for Kindle in the US and the UK! And you’ll be able to hold the print version in your hot little hand November 1st.

For a project that began its life eight years ago as an erotic short story I wrote just for fun, AED has had a circuitous journey to publication. In its first incarnation, it was called Learning the Business.  From there it expanded into an erotic novel, then grew into a romance novel that was too big for its britches, and too hot for anyone to touch at the time, and wearing the brazen title, The Executive Sex Clause. An Executive Decision has finally grown up and come into its own as the first steamy romance novel in The Executive Decision Trilogy.

Radio or Not, Here I Come!

I had the very big pleasure of being interviewed, along with Hazel Cushion, Managing Director of Xcite Books, by Phil Rickman for his popular Phil the Shelf programme on BBC Radio Wales. Phil Rickman is the author of the best selling Merrily Watkins mysteries, the John Dee series and several paranormal novels. Though I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting the man face to face, I was ushered into the studios of the BBC Radio facility on the Surrey University Campus several weeks ago, and there, alone in the small cubicle, Phil’s ethereal voice filtered into my ear via the magic of techy stuff. The interview lasted about twenty minutes, covering everything from Fifty Shades of Grey mummy porn to interesting uses for truffles in The Initiation of Ms Holly.

As you might expect, I excitedly alerted all of my friends that I was going to be on Phil Rickman’s show, and we all gathered round the ‘radio,’ just like in the old days, tweeting and Facebooking over our glasses of wine, not so much like the old days, only to discover that BBC Wales was running a cricket match instead. No warning, nothing. Just suddenly cricket. None of us knows what happened, and no doubt there will be a pod cast at some point. In fact, I just got a text from Hazel saying she heard it. However, in the wilds beyond the mysterious offices of Xcite Books and Accent Press, we’ve heard nothing. Even Phil has heard nothing, and he’s threatening murder on his end. But he has promised to let me know when the pod cast is up, and I’ll be sure to pass on the word.

Face Time

Just after tweeting and facebooking my excitement about An Executive Decision’s swift release on Kindle, I was off to Wales to the Kidwelly eBook Festival Friday afternoon. I had the pleasure of being on a panel of erotic writers for ‘Sex at Noon.’ and it was lovely to be included with the fabulous Toni Sands and to make the acquaintance of Gillian Brightmore. Hazel was chairing the group. The discussion was lively and the interaction with the small but enthusiastic audience was loads of fun. It’s very heartening to see the growing interest in erotica.

As much as I enjoyed the panel and the short bit of the festival I was there for, the best part of the two days was having face time with Hazel and getting to meet her lovely family. There was much talk of writing and publishing, as you can imagine, and I had a fabulous time watching the opening ceremony of the Olympics with the entire Cushion family.

Book Time

I’m working flat-out at the moment to finish the final rewrite of Riding the Ether, the second book of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy. If anything I’m even more excited about it than I was Body Temperature and Rising, which was amazing fun to write.

There’ll be more exciting K D Grace and Grace Marshall news coming up in the month of August, so be sure to keep an eye out on this site and on both K D and Grace’s face book and twitter pages. In the meantime, hope you have a hot August in the very best sense of the word.  I’ll leave you off with a little taste of An Executive Decision.

Blurb:

Ellison Thorne’s business partner, Beverly, and his brother, Garrett, create the Executive Sex Clause as a joke speculating that no-strings, stress-free sex in certain employee contracts would raise productivity and act as a cure for Ellis’s lacking love life.

Enter Dee Henning, the queen of no-time-for-sex. Young, hungry, gifted. When negotiations on a major project break down, Dee and Ellis realise the Executive Sex Clause could be the ultimate secret weapon for success. But secrets seldom remain secret, and Dee and Ellis soon learn there’s no such thing as no-strings where the heart is concerned.

Excerpt:

By the end of the third day negotiations were at a deadlock, and the Paris heat was beginning to take its toll in more ways than one.

Ellis slammed the door to the hotel suite behind them and yanked off his tie. ‘I know the woman doesn’t like Americans, but the only one she’s hurting by not accepting our offer is Trouvères. She has to see this is the only way to move things forward.’

‘It’s got to be some sort of bluff.’ Dee threw her jacket across the couch and rotated her aching shoulders.

‘Can’t you talk to Daniels? Surely he can make her see reason.’

‘I have talked to him. He’s at his wits end as to why she’s behaving like this. Besides, he works for her, remember?’

‘True, but it’s pretty clear it’s you he’s concerned about pleasing.’

She slammed her computer bag down on the couch. ‘I told you there’s nothing between Jason and me, and we’re both too professional to let –’

Ellis interrupted. ‘Look, I said up front that this deal was a long shot. Pulling it off may take a lot more time than either of us expected. Anyway, I should have known better than to get caught up in the excitement. Don’t take it personally. I’m only saying you may have bitten off more than you can chew this time. You’re not exactly working drive-through at McDonalds these days, you know?’

The pain returned to her shoulders with a vengeance. ‘At first it was a real shock, Ellis, but I figured that one out fairly early in the game.’ Dee bit back her sarcasm, remembering his comments about no one making him angry until she came along. She was about to excuse herself for a much-needed shower and time to cool her temper when the phone rang. Ellis answered it.

He dropped the receiver back into its cradle. ‘That was Yvette Rousseau’s secretary.  Tomorrow’s meetings are cancelled. Apparently Yvette sees no reason for further negotiations.’

‘Shit.’ Dee turned on her heels and headed for her room. Maybe she’d have a good cry while she was in the shower. It certainly wouldn’t be her first since she’d started working at Pneuma Inc.

But Ellis grabbed her by the arm. ‘Where are you going? We have a disaster here, Dee. We need to regroup and figure out what to do about it. Your pouting can wait.’

Anger joined frustration and became a seething boil. She jerked her arm away, certain a shower would no longer be enough to cool her down. ‘I’m not pouting.’

He shrugged. ‘What else am I supposed to think when at the first sign of trouble you run off to your room. We have a mess here, we need to fix it.’

It was then that she snapped. She stood facing him nose to nose in a glare-down, no longer caring if she made him angry. ‘Fine, goddamn it, let’s stop the bullshit and fix it then. I’m sick and tired of your snide remarks about Jason and me, and your condescension about my lack of experience. Guess what, Ellis, I know I lack experience, and you knew it when you hired me, so tell me something I don’t know!’

His eyes flashed white hot, and the line of his jaw hardened. The intake of his breath was harsh against the soft hum of the air conditioning. It came as a total surprise when he grabbed her, and for one frightening second, she thought he was actually going to shake her. But before the thought was completely formed, he pulled her to him so hard that she feared whiplash, then he did the unthinkable. He kissed her. He kissed her hard. His mouth was bruising and tyrannical against hers, swallowing her breath even as she fought to swallow his. At first she pushed him, pushed him as hard as she could. But he only yielded enough to step back, pulling her with him, kissing her harder, holding her tighter, tight enough to crush her breasts against his chest. It took a second for her brain to register she was pushing him back toward the sofa, and he was letting her. She bit and nipped at him like an angry wolf, yanking and shoving his jacket off over his shoulders as she pushed.

There was ripping and tearing. She wasn’t sure whose. She didn’t care. At least one button went flying.

With one hand he tugged and yanked her skirt up over her hips, with the other he shoved down the straps of her bra and kneaded and cupped.

It soon became clear they weren’t going to make it to the sofa. She’d just managed to force Ellis’s trousers down over his hips when he plopped onto the chair at the computer desk, pulling her on top of him as he figured out how to release the front catch on her bra.

‘Oh my god!’ she cried out as the chair went over backwards landing them in a heap on the soft carpet …

Launch, Lust and Self-Love

Lots of Lakeland Heatwave News!

Body Temperature and Rising has been out in paperback and eBook in the UK since October and in eBook in the US as well, but tomorrow is the official print launch day of Body Temperature and Rising in the US! I love book launches! And I LOVE the chance to celebrate. I’m very pleased with the positive response BTR is getting, and the closer I get to the completion of all three novels in the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, the more excited I get.

In more Lakeland Heatwave news, Body Temperature and Rising is being discussed all this month over at Coffee Time Romance. I’ll be talking paranormal erotic romance, what makes it work and what makes it hot. I’ll also be sharing some juicy excerpts, talking about what inspired me to write it, talking about sex magic, sharing a few snap shots of the glorious English Lake District, where the story is set, and just generally chatting about witches, demons, ghosts and all things paranormal and sexy. Do stop by and chat. Leave a comment for a chance to win your choice of either of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly, or The Pet Shop.

Even MORE Lakeland Heatwave News

I’m very excited to announce that I’ve just finished the first draft of book three of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire. You may have remembered that I had just finished the first draft of book two, Riding the Ether, in February. I decided to write the last two books back to back so I could get the best overall view of the powerful events that lead to the grand finale. Plus, I had less chance of suffering from empty nest syndrome that way. I have to admit there were a few twist and turns that even I didn’t expect, and I can hardly wait to make all three novels available to my readers! Riding the Ether will be published in October, and there’ll be much partying and dancing in the streets.

Novellas                                                                              

Last month I was all excited about the release of my two new novellas, Surrogates, published with Harper Collin’s new erotica eBook imprint, Mischief, and Migrations,  which included in the brand new Xcite Books line of anthologies, The Secret Library, in the Traded Innocence anthology. I’m happy to announce that both are doing well and enjoying good press. I’m doing my best to have as many of the authors from the new Secret Library line as guest on my blog as possible, so please check in to see what hot, romantic offerings are deliciously hidden inside those very elegant velvet covers. I’ll also have some exciting guest authors stopping by from the new Mischief line as well, so do make sure to check out A Hopeful Romantic for all the latest heat.

Garden Porn

Any of you who have read much of my work know that I’ve got a reputation for writing garden porn. Surrogates is a very hot romp through the veg patch, and some pretty stunning formal gardens as well. My short story, Vegging is packed full of veggie naughtiness, and my story, Allotted Views is a voyeuristic romp through the allotments.  I’ve always found working in the veg patch inspiring, and it has just got a whole lot more inspiring for me, as my husband and I just got an allotment after three long years on the waiting list. I think our patch alone is big enough to feed half of Surrey. And that means, of course, LOTS more inspiration for writing hot garden porn.

The Merry Month of May…er National Masturbation Month!

Okay, how could I possibly NOT end this little update with a happy, touchy-feely mention of National Masturbation Month? The celebration of May as National Masturbation Month started in 1995 in San Francisco as a response to the forced resignation of then U.S. Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders, for remarks she made that masturbation should be taught as a healthy part of human sexuality.

The comment ended Elders’ career. National Masturbation Month came about as an act of protest against Elders’ ouster and a celebration of the safest sex of all. I’m definitely planning to do my part to celebrate in solidarity! And I intend to start by giving you a few very hot excerpts of the self-loving kind throughout the rest of the month – my contribution to the celebration of solo-sex. I hope you find them inspiringJ

Since all the latest news is Lakeland Heatwave, I’m going to start the self-love lit with a hands-on scene from Body Temperature and Rising. Enjoy!

Excerpt:

(in which much naughtiness ensues. Not for the delicate of disposition)

Marie woke to the awareness of a man sitting on the bed next to her, a man who, from the looks of his clothing, must have been at the same costume party as Anderson. His fly was open and he was stroking a substantial hard-on. Instead of being frightened, as would have been the normal response to a stranger rubbing one off on her bed, she simply admired his pale hair and the way his large hand moved over heavy equipment. She liked it when she conjured sexy men to visit her in her dream world. Better yet she had conjured one obviously ready to play.

She watched through half closed eyes as he shoved his trousers open further and worried distended balls free from the press of his underpants. With one hand, he caressed the length of his cock, with the other he cupped himself and stroked with his thumb.

‘I heard them talking about you.’ The man said. ‘They didn’t say how strong you are.’ He groaned out loud and shifted to slide his trousers down so that his pale ass settled onto the duvet, allowing easier access to himself. ‘Even if they had, I would not have believed them.’ His voice was a harsh whispered. ‘I long to know what you look like beneath the duvet, beneath the nightdress. Please let me look at you.’

So far this dream was shaping up well. She was happy to play I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. Strangely Dream Guy sounded like he’d studied the same romantics Anderson had. Who’d have thought antiquated poet-speak could be so damned hot? She eased herself into a sitting position against the head board and pushed back the bedding. The night shirt lay high against her thighs, barely covering her cunt.

She was amazed at how well she could see in the moonlight drifting through her window. She could see the shape of him, the anxious rise and fall of his chest, the parting of his lips. She could feel his gaze on the hem of her night shirt. She scrunched and raked at it until her hand rested against her pubic mound obscuring his view, and he groaned his frustration. Slowly, carefully she raised her bottom and shifted until the night shirt was out of the way and her bare buttocks pressed against the smooth cotton of the sheet.

His gaze on her felt almost physical, as though with his eyes alone he could gently nudge her open. ‘Please let me see,’ he whispered.

She had played the voyeur with Anderson and Tara earlier. Now it felt wonderfully wicked to play the exhibitionist, as she shifted her ass again and slowly, teasingly opened her thighs, still nestling her hand in her curls, stroking and caressing, making herself wait until that magical moment when her fingers first slipped between the swell of her lips.

‘I can smell you,’ he said. ‘The scent of your sex is intoxicating, please, please let me look at you.’

This time, she moved her fingers down over the hard rise of her clitoris and in between the pout of her lips, her breath catching, her hips jerking with that first electrical touch. Then she spread her labia as wide as she could manage with two fingers and opened her legs still further until she was certain Dream Guy could see every detail of her dilating pussy, every fold of her slippery landscape.

He gasped at the sight, and she could see his balls tighten and jerk with the intake of breath. He shifted a fisted hand down the length of his penis, lingering for his thumb to caress and circle the head, its slit opening and closing with each stroke. She could feel the gentle rocking of the mattress and wasn’t sure if it was from her dream lover, who was now grinding his ass against the bed with each stroke, or if it was from her own bearing down.

‘Touch yourself for me,’ the man said. ‘I want to watch you pleasure your lovely womanhood.’

There was a strange man sitting on the foot of her bed watching her masturbate. The very thought made her juices run thick and hot.

*****

Wishing you all a very merry, touchy-feely month of May! And here’s a lucious link to The Center for the Intimate Arts and some fab visual stimulation.

Reading Slam and Launch Party — Twice the Celebration, Twice the Fun

How much fun can be crammed into one weekend? Well, I’m going to do my best to find out the last weekend in February, the 24th and 25th. And since fun is always best when it’s shared, I’m hoping you’ll help me find out as I do my best to double the celebration for the launch of Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of my paranormal Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy.

The Evolution of a Reading Slam

I’m very lucky to have lots of great writing friends in the UK, some who live in London, but many who live outside of London, all over the UK. Some of these fabulous friends are making me very happy by planning to come down to London for my launch party. That being the case, I wanted a way to let them know how much I appreciated their efforts. So, I thought up the idea of having a reading slam the night before the launch so that everyone could read if they wanted to and have a chance to promote and share their own work.

I was surprised and touched by the positive response to the idea, an idea which I actually found a little bit scary, as I’d never organized an event like a reading slam before. But everyone seemed so excited.

Then, a dear friend and sister writer suggested we make it into a charity event. My pulse rate went up, I bit off the rest of my nails, and when I finally stopped hyperventilating, I emailed the amazing Sarah Berry and put the idea to her. Sarah quickly calmed my panic attack and assured me that not only COULD we do a reading slam as a fundraiser for charity, but we SHOULD!

Viola! That’s how a simple reading slam evolved into the More Bang Reading Slam Fundraiser! Am I still scared? Yes! Am I still nervous? Yes! Am I excited and glad we’re doing it and all a flutter with anticipation? Yes, yes, yes!

More Bang Reading Slam Fund Raiser
24 February 2012
Sh! Portobello

To help celebrate the launch of her new novel, Body Temperature and Rising, K D Grace, with her fabulous co-sponsors, the Fannies Rule Groups headed up by amazing Sarah Berry present the More Bang Reading Slam (That’s short for more bang for your buck).

This evening of hot reading is very special because all proceeds will go to the Sexual Advice Association. There’ll be a charge of £5 for guests and participants, all for a good cause!

There’ll also be raffles and giveaways. There’ll be fizz and cupcakes. But mostly there’ll be lots of fun and lots of sexy readings from lots of sexy readers strutting their stuff and making the audience squirm deliciously in their seats.

Wanna read? Come prepared with five minutes worth of filth and fun. Warning, any attempt to read longer will result in a good spanking.

Wanna just listen and sip fizz? Come prepared for a good time. Warning, those not prepared for a good time may also be spanked at the digression of the management.

Fun for a good cause is the yummiest kind of fun. Come celebrate with us!

Friday 24th February at 6:30 at Sh! Portobello.

Cost £5

Launch Party

25 February 2012
Sh! Hoxton

You’re invited to celebrate with K D Grace at the launch party for her new novel, BODY TEMPERATURE AND RISING, the first book of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy!

Blurb:
Can the power of lust overcome deadly intentions?
For American transplant, Marie Warren, a magical encounter on the Lakeland fells ends in sex with a charming ghost and the discovery that she has the ability to unleash demons and ghosts. Her powers bring her to a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that allows ghosts access to pleasures of the flesh.

Ancient grudges unfold, and Deacon, the demon Marie inadvertently unleashed, will stop at nothing to destroy everything the coven’s high priestess, Tara Stone, holds dear, including Marie, the charming ghost, Anderson, and sexy farmer, Tim Meriwether. Only the power unleashed by Marie and Tim’s lust can stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and innocent people die. But is lust enough?

Come celebrate with witches and ghosts and all the very naughtiest people from far and wide. While the author promises no one will be turned into a newt, it is recommended that all guests come prepared for love spells and squirming in the seats, both of which, Sh! is well equipped to handle.

There’ll be fizz and cupcakes all served up in the fabulously sexy surrounds of Sh! Hoxton! Don’t miss the magic!

Where: Sh! Hoxton
When: Saturday 25th February 6:30 pm
No charge

Body Temperature and Rising Gets An Honourable Mention

I’m ecstatic to have my novel, Body Temperature and Rising listed as honourable mention on Violet Blue’s coveted 12 Best Sex Books of 2011 list. Here’s what she had to say:

Body Temperature and Rising by K. D. Grace
I am a huge fan of K.D. Grace’s explicit, well-crafted writing (I’ve selected and published her work in multi-author “Best” collections), and this novel did not disappoint me. It’s the first of a hardcore paranormal trilogy, and many readers think it is her best work to date. “A voyeuristic encounter on the fells ends in sex with a charming ghost for American Marie Warren who realises she has the ability to unleash demons. Her powers bring her to a coven of witches who practise rare sex magic that allows ghosts access to pleasures of the flesh.” After this, things take a turn for the worse….

Full article here.

Thank you, Violet!

Body Temperature and Rising, the Long Way Around

Body Temperature and Rising, volume one of my Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, is now available in all ebook formats with most major distributors. It will be available in print in February. After a very strange, circuitous journey to completion, I’m very excited to be able to share my first ever paranormal erotic romance with the world.

Body Temperature and Rising didn’t start out to be a trilogy. In fact, it started out, three Novembers ago, as my first effort to write a novel in a month for National Novel Writing Month. (NaNoWriMo). During November, National Novel Writing Month, people everywhere of all ages from all walks of life attempt to write a novel in one month. For me, not only was it my first attempt to write a novel in a month, but it was my first ever attempt to write an erotic novel.

Considering the way it all began, Body Temperature and Rising could hardly have been anything BUT paranormal. My good friend Helen Callaghan and I decided to get the first day of our NaNoWriMo experience off to a good start by driving to Avebury to write at the pub there.

Avebury is a village set in the middle of the biggest Neolithic stone circle in Europe, a stone circle 500 years older than the Pyramids.

The Red Lion Inn. Taken on a much nicer, much less haunted day.

Because the stones are much easier than Stonehenge to access, and there is no charge, Avebury has become a gathering place for modern Pagans and other New Age folks. And our timing was perfect, as it was the day after the old Celtic holiday of Samhain and even in spite of the torrential downpour that we arrived in, we found ourselves surrounded by druids, witches, wiccans and all manner of Pagans celebrating what is essentially Celtic New Year. The people watching was fabulous, even with the drowned-rat effect.

Never mind that, Helen and I were there to write, so after a scuppered attempt at an inspiring walk in the wind and rain, we settled in at the Red Lion Inn, right in the centre of the stone circle. This 16th Century pub proudly boasts the reputation of being ‘the most haunted pub in England.’

It didn’t take us long to get pulled into the writing, so after lunch we wrote our way through numerous coffees and pots of tea, watching the super-saturated Pagans come and go in the pouring rains. There was a fire in the fireplace, and we were both in the zone.

By late afternoon, sharing leftover Halloween candy across the table while the Muse whispered in our ears the pub was nearly. Suddenly there was an enormous banging sound, like doors slamming. It seemed to be coming from the hall that led to the restroom behind us. The space that had felt toasty warm all at once felt chilled, and we were both shivering. Seconds later, one of the wait staff came running back to the restrooms looking very panicked and very pale. From behind the bar to the kitchen we heard murmurs and nervous laughter. We overheard mentions of the ghost, followed by more murmurs and mentions of supernatural phenomena when the volunteer returned unscathed to join the rest of the staff cowering behind the bar. And then the room was warm again. Helen and I ate more sweets, ordered another pot of tea and discussed our near-brush with the supernatural. Then we kept writing.

One of the Avebury stones on a nice day.

It was only as dark settled and the rain hadn’t let up even a little bit that we remembered two things. We weren’t parked in the pub car park, but in the National Trust car park on the other side of the village, a car park that closed at dark.

We quickly gathered our belongings and made a run for it, trying to hold umbrellas to protect us from horizontal rain, and struggling to see our way on the tiny, unlit path back to the car park, illuminated only by the pale green light of Helen’s mobile phone. With boots full of water and a banged knee from the metal fence post I ran into, we finally arrived at the Car Park to find it deserted except for Helen’s car, and thankfully for the National Trust Land Rover parked by the gate with a lovely NT employee waiting patiently to let us out.

Oh, and that intsy-weentsy little second thing we’d forgotten about… We’d been so busy talking on the way over to Avebury that we’d forgotten to get petrol for the car, and we were running on fumes. Avebury has a pub, several tourist shops and a post office. No garage. The next town of any size up the deserted highway was Marlborough. Everyone with any common sense was long since inside out of the horrid weather. It felt like we were the only people on the planet. We were only fifteen miles from Marlborough, but we weren’t sure we were even going to get to when we realized the Kennet River, which usually runs under the road was now running OVER the road. Thinking only of the fumes quickly dissipating in the petrol tank, we ploughed through the raging waters of the Kennet and continued on our way, a thought which still gives me a chill when I think what might have happened crossing a flooded river as we did. But only a few miles up the road, looking like the gates to paradise was a small Murco station. And it was open! We were saved! Thus began Lakeland Heatwave: Body Temperature and Rising, which at that time was called ‘Love Spell.’

During the month that I wrote BTR, a time when I already had a very full writing plate on top of the novel-in-a-month plan, the paranormal experience continued as I was magically transformed into The Bitch

Research is hard work

from Hell, a creature so unpredictable, so terrifying, so vile that only my husband, Raymond the Brave, could successfully handle being in her presence for long periods of time. The man has permanent psychological scars from that infamous November, I have no doubt.

In the meantime, I got trapped in the Eurostar Tunnel and The Initiation of Ms Holly was born, followed by The Pet Shop while BTR languished tucked away in my computer as a Word file. I just wasn’t confident enough to attempt anything paranormal. Then, maybe it was the influence of the Avebury Ghost, but I decided to propose Body Temperature and Rising to Xcite, knowing that it would need a lot of reworking because I had grown a lot as a writer. Once Xcite accepted my proposal, I found myself totally unable to continue with the rewrite. Every attempt felt like a false start, every effort felt like it wasn’t right somehow.

Just when I was about to lose heart, I took a long walk and realized that if it were going work as I envisioned it, Lakeland Heatwave would have to be a trilogy. Xcite went for the proposal and from that point on, the ghosts and witches practically wrote the story for me.

Of course with the action set in the Lake District and the first chapters set in a bad storm on the fells and in a slate mine shaft, I was forced to make several research trips to the Lakes. How I suffer for my art! I have no doubt I’ll need to do much such suffering as the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy unfolds.

Body Temperature and Rising will be available in print in February 2012, and as is the happy tradition, will be celebrated with wild partying and raunchy reading at Sh! Hoxton.

Blurb:

American transplant to the Lake District, MARIE WARREN, didn’t know she could unleash demons and enflesh ghosts until a voyeuristic encounter on the fells ends in sex with the charming ghost, ANDERSON and night visits from a demon. To help her cope with her embarrassing and dangerous new abilities, Anderson brings her to the ELEMENTALS, a coven of witches who practice rare sex magic that temporarily allowsghosts access to the pleasures of the flesh.

DEACON, the demon Marie has unleashed, holds an ancient grudge against TARA STONE, coven high priestess, and will stop at nothing to destroy all she holds dear. Marie and her landlord, the reluctant young farmer, TIM MERIWETHER, are at the top of his list. Marie and Tim must learn to wield coven magic and the numinous power of their lust to stop Deacon’s bloody rampage before the coven is torn apart and more innocent people die.

Dale Head. The sight Marie would have seen without the mist.

Excerpt:

‘First you treat me like I don’t exist, then you go all big brother on me like I’m too delicate and soft-brained to take care of myself. Well I have news for you, Tim Meriwether, I was taking care of myself for a long time before you decided I needed looking after.’ She shoved again, and this time he grabbed her with such force that she felt the bones in her neck pop.

With her forward momentum, he stumbled over an uneven paving stone, lost his footing and went over backward into a manger full of fresh hay, pulling her on top of him.

Before she could shove and claw her way to her feet, He grabbed her around the waist and rolled, pinning her beneath the weight of his body. He gave her no time to think about it, but pulled her into a bruising kiss, forcing her lips apart, probing her hard pallet with his dexterous tongue, biting her lower lip before he came up fighting for the breath to speak. ‘I think about you a lot, Marie,’ His chest rose and fell in hungry gasps. ‘But I promise you, none of those thoughts were even remotely brotherly.’

She bucked underneath him and clawed at his shirt. ‘Then do something about it, damn it, and stop toying with me.’ Several buttons popped and flew across the stable floor. He forced her legs apart with his knee, moving it up to rub against the crotch of her jeans. She shoved his shirt open and arched up to him as he pushed her t-shirt up and manoeuvred and tugged, forcing her breasts free from her bra into his spayed hands and hungry lips.

She fumbles with the fly of his jeans, sliding an anxious hand into his boxers. He huffed a breathless grunt, and the muscles low in his stomach tense as she closed her fingers around his engorged penis and began to stroke.

He had just began the anxious efforts with her own fly when suddenly the stable door slammed shut, and the light bulb overhead exploded in a shower of fine glass plunging the two into total darkness.

Marie yelped, and Tim cursed. As they fought their way to their feet, the mare screamed, and they could hear her struggling.

Tim vaulted over the manger’s edge seconds before Marie, calling back to her. ‘Get the door. Get it open.’

Struggling to secure her jeans with one hand, Marie felt her way along the perimeter of the stable toward the door. The relief was short-lived when her fingers closed around the handle, and it wouldn’t budge.

‘It’s locked,’ she shouted above the desperate cries of the mare.

‘What do you mean, it’s locked,’ Tim shouted back. ‘It doesn’t have a lock. It’ can’t be locked.’

‘I’m telling you it won’t open,’ she yelled back, feeling an icy chill blasting her from behind. With one final tug, the door gave and she tumbled backward on her ass. The sharp knife edge of light that shot through the darkness was blinding, like a flashbulb going off, leaving a deep bruised after image dancing in front of her face, an after image of Deacon.

She cried out and crab walked backward, as he stepped toward her, unfurling his bullwhip, in what seemed like endless slow motion.