Victoria Blisse Tells Why it’s Always Christmas in Lincoln
The lovely Victoria Blisse has taken time out from the festivities of the fabulous Blissemas Blog Hop to stop in and tell us a story behind the story. And in keeping with the spirit of the season, she’s going to tell us what inspired her hot new story, Always Christmas in Lincoln. Welcome, Victoria, and happy holidays!
There’s always more to a story than meets the eye and that is certainly true for Always Christmas in Lincoln.
It was back in May when I came up with the idea. I went down to Lincoln to join in with the Lincoln book festival with one of my publishers, Total-E-Bound. I experienced Steep Hill very soon after arriving, in fact I had to drag my luggage up it! I was very relieved to find a lovely ice cream shop at the top of that hill I can tell you!
So it was the second time I’d visited Lincoln, I’d been a few years earlier for the Christmas Markets with my mum. It was a lovely trip and it was extra cold and frosty at the time we went, very festive indeed. I was reminded of that visit in the evening when I was enjoying a meal with Nikki, Claire and Heidi from the TEB gang and fellow authors Liz Coldwell and Serena Yates.
We were in a very nice Thai restaurant enjoying a very delicious meal when we noticed that running all round the windows and over the ceiling were…Christmas decorations! Reindeers and Angels if I remember correctly! We made comment about them then and there but the conversation moved on. We found out about Serena Yates love of spreadsheets which she shares with Nikki in fact and talked books, promotion and life.
Anyway, after lovely food we went for drinkies together in the hotel and as we walked up the driveway we noticed all the bushes were lit up with bright white fairy lights and Liz commented. “It’s always Christmas in Lincoln.” And bam, I had a book title and all I needed to do was write the story to go with it! As I lay in bed that night I thought over ideas for my story and by morning I’d thumbed out a quick plot on my phone.
So I have to thanks the authors there that night and especially Liz because without them this story wouldn’t have been born!
It was June when I wrote Always Christmas in Lincoln and so the story starts in Summer! I found it really interesting to be writing something so festive set in the middle of a heatwave. How did I do it? I created a year-round Christmas shop in Lincoln!
Now you know the inspiration behind the story, let’s find out about the actual story!
It isn’t really always Christmas in Lincoln but when Felicity gets her man it feels like it.
Felicity hates Christmas. It reminds her of a traumatic event from her childhood. She thinks the Permanent Christmas shop is tacky, with its windows full of trees and tinsel all year round and would rather it disappeared from her picturesque home town.
When she discovers that Carl, who she lusts over every time she sees him in the tea rooms, is in fact the owner of Ho, Ho, Ho! She’s not quite sure what to think. It takes a sexy meeting in the middle of a fake winter wonderland to make her realise the advantages of Christmas in the middle of summer.
As time passes, Carl and Felicity indulge in more sexy liaisons but as Christmas approaches Felicity doubts whether she is anything more than a sensual distraction for the festive shop owner and when her handsome ex, Sean, sweeps into town on a quest to win her back she finds she has a tough decision to make.
Can Carl and his Christmas cheer win over her hardened heart?
It was very surreal being surrounded by snow, even fake snow, in the middle of summer. Every time I bobbed my head up and down on his delicious dick—I swear it tasted of gingerbread and cinnamon—something different would catch my eye. The green and red- scarfed penguin lying on its side next to me or the grinning Santa on a rocking chair up on the shelf. Each had a smug smile that I was sure signaled how much they liked the show.
It was very hot—I suspect I was a little delirious at the time. I pulled my focus back to the man in front of me. I listened to his groans, his pants, and felt the push of his hips as he showed me exactly how much he was enjoying the feel of my mouth around his cock and encouraged me to take him deeper and to suck harder.
“Fuck, Fliss,” he gasped, “you’re amazing.”
I smiled up at him and winked. I slowly withdrew him from my mouth and ran my tongue around his tip.
“I really want to fuck you,” Carl groaned breathlessly. “Really want to. Really.”
“Say pretty please,” I teased, just as eager to feel his hardness inside me as he was to fill me.
“Please?” he begged.
I twirled my fingers around his tip and stroked down his shaft. I let my mischievous side out to play and grinned wickedly at him, but didn’t move an inch.
“Pretty please with a cherry on top?” he pleaded desperately.
“Well, since you ask so nicely…” I let the sentence linger and moved myself forward slightly. This was all the permission Carl needed. He lunged forward and caught me off balance. As we rolled around, tinkling and clanking noises surrounded us, but we weren’t worried about damaged or out of place stock. After much rolling and giggling, I ended up below him, my skirt around my waist and his cock straining against the material of my knickers.
“I’ve dreamt about this for so long.” He worked the damp fabric to one side and slid a thick, warm finger into me. “You’re gorgeous.”
I was surprised—I’d hardly realised he knew who I was and wouldn’t have ever even imagined he’d thought of me in a sexual way.
“I didn’t know.” The words came in between moans and panting breaths as he finger-fucked me, finding and manipulating my clit and seeking out the sensitive spots inside me. “I’ve been watching you for months and I didn’t realise you even knew I existed.”
“Oh, I knew.” He nodded. “I watched you all the time from behind my newspaper in the café.”His finger left me and I longed for more contact. A moment later, his dick pushed at my entrance and filled me. A streak of warm excitement flashed through my insides, creating a paradox of completion and desire that drove my hips up to meet his first thrust. “But believe it or not,” he continued, “I’m shy and I didn’t know how to approach you.”
We looked at each other and laughed.
“You conquered your shyness, then,” I said. “I’m glad you did.”
“So am I.”
Have you ever celebrated or thought about Christmas in Summer?