Category Archives: Guest Blogger

Maxim Jakubowski Shares How NOT to Write a Sex Scene

I’m very excited to welcome The King of the Erotic Thriller,  Maxim Jakubowski, who has stopped by on his blog tour for his fantastic new novel, Ekaterina and the Night. Maxim is going to share very intriguing details about how NOT to write a sex scene.

I have the honour of partying with Maxim this Friday night in London in the big launch extravaganza at Sh! Hoxton. Ekaterina and Pets will be launching together, and there’ll be double the fun! You won’t want to miss it.

Welcome, Maxim! It’s fantastic to have you on A Hopeful Romantic!

 

I don’t plan my novels, let alone my short stories. They all begin with the germ of an idea, a title and an opening line, and then it’s in the hands of fate and my imagination as I improvise my way down the sometimes rocky and winding road, serenaded by the flashing cursor on my screen. A bit like a journey into the dark, although I sometimes have a glimpse of the finishing line, a sentence, a feeling, something I’m moving towards.

Sometimes, I take up a challenge when a friendly editor asks me to contribute to a themed anthology: hotel rooms, nudity, particular cities, vampires, voyeurism, a historical setting (the latter almost defeated me and I came up with a tale featuring Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, unable to go back any further through time…); it gives the writing journey a focus of sorts. But if the theme doesn’t connect with me, I’m unable to conjure anything up: fairy tales, female domination, spanking, bondage are just not ‘me’ somehow and I have regularly drawn blanks when it comes to those themes (and books).

In essence, everything I write is erotic. Even when I used to, so many years ago, write science fiction and fantasy and later crime thrillers, I was often criticised for introducing sexual scenes critics and readers often objected to. I just couldn’t see what the fuss was all about. After all, even in a genre setting, you have to come up with credible characters, men and women made of flesh and words, not just cardboard cut-outs. And what do men and women do in real life, they have relationships, contact, sex. So why should that important component in their lives be automatically excluded from the story, even more so when the sex became not just an act of titillation for the reader but an integral part of the plot insofar as it determined the characters’ psychology and action?

Eventually, I just gave up and pared my writing down of genre tropes and stuck to what I knew, enjoyed and wrote best: the erotic. Even today my crime thrillers are openly labelled as erotic and no doubt the strapline on my tombstone or my urn will read “by the King of the Erotic Thriller’ (the Times or Time Out, take your choice, I can’t remember who used the expression first)…

But even today, every morning while I stare at the white screen and see my story progress in leaps and stutters I always feel surprisingly wary when the moment comes for my characters to intersect, for sexuality to rear its head; the dreaded sex scene (although some of my critics would question that, insofar as they see my books and stories as an unending, continuous sex scene…). How am I going to describe the waltz of bodies, shedding clothes, embraces, sounds, colours, feelings yet again and do it well, play the right note. After all, I’ve written and published 11 novels and almost a 100 short stories and here I am having to uncover yet another variation, not repeat myself, another way of ordering the words in the right order to evoke something so wonderful and private and universal without repeating myself? Will I manage it again? My initial instinct is negative, fearful I am that I will this time come up with cliches and, worse, vulgarity. It’s my daily Rubicon.

So, I close my eyes, I evoke personal memories, the way my heart and my genitalia and the pit of my stomach once felt and, like a miracle, the words always come. OK, so some times the same words become over-employed (but that can always be put right in the later editorial revisions/process) but once the feeling overtakes me, the sex scene just flows, I’m floating on air again, sometimes I even shamefully must confess I get hard (an odd form of narcissim, I know). In most cases, I initially feel it’s going to be tough to extend the scene over more than a couple of paragraphs but invariably I end up up with a whole page or more and have to cut things short for fear of the sex scene taking on too much importance in the general balance of the story or the chapter.

In every sex scene I seem to pen, I imagine myself, like a deep sea diver, in the mind and skin of the protagonists. Whether they be male or female. I feel what they feel, I hurt when they hurt, I come when they come (metaphorically-speaking), I sigh when they sigh, my breath accelerates or slows down as theirs does. I am making love with myself (spare me the joke…), I’m fucking and being fucked, I am in love.

It works for me, that’s all I can say.

It feels real, and that is of paramount importance; makes it believable instead of yet another set of hydraulics and cliches, or wishful thinking. And the truth I have tried to inject into the sex scene illuminates the characters and becomes an integral part of the plot.

In my new novel, EKATERINA AND THE NIGHT, I have an ageing English film critic (did I mention I run an annual film festival, in civilian life?), a young Italian trainee journalist, an immortal female killer, the cult, French writer Boris Vian, a black jazz musician high on drugs, and sundry other men and women waltzing through the whirlpools of lust and love. And every time their clothes come off (or even if they don’t, let’s not be so literal…) I was them, fucking and being fucked, touched by the divine presence of sex, but I hope that when you read the book, you will not see me, unshaven and unkempt typing at my keyboard in a room overlooking a large green London garden with squirrels and pigeons on the lawn, but you will see Ekaterina, Emma and Alex Ballard, and they will have real faces and bodies in your mind. If they do, then I will have succeeded in bringing them to life in their sex scenes and between the lines of the novel.

Blurb:

Lolita meets Story of O, another memorable tale of love, sex and feelings from ‘the King of the erotic thriller’

When Ekaterina meets Alexander a shockingly sexy but tender romance develops.

She is a young Italian trainee journalist, who dreams of wild sexual adventures. He is the older Englishman who she believes can fulfill her fantasies. When Ekaterina is sent to interview the ageing writer Alexander in London, she is blinded by his charm and experience. Their relationship explodes in a sensual orgy, which defies society’s acceptance.

When a mysterious angel of death who calls herself Emma enters their lives, Ekaterina and Alexander know their days together are numbered.

A shocking climax set in Venice in winter brings the three protagonists together.

A tale of sex and tenderness that ranks alongside Jakubowski classic The State of Montana.

 

MAXIM JAKUBOWSKI worked for many years in book publishing as an editor (including titles by William Golding, Peter Ackroyd, Oliver Stone, Michael Moorcock, Peter Ustinov, Jim Thompson, David Goodis, Paul Ableman, Sophie Grigson, Marc Behm, Cornell Woolrich, etc…) and launched the Murder One Bookshop, which he owned and ran for over 20 years. He now writes, edits and translates full-time in London.
*****
COMMENT TO WIN!
Courtesy of Xcite Books, three lucky winners can get their hands on a copy of Ekaterina and the Night in their choice of paperback or digital format. (International entries welcome)

Simply leave a comment on this post to win. Be sure to check out the rest of the posts in the tour, because the more comments you make, the more chance you have of winning! Go here to see the blog tour schedule.

PLEASE leave your email address in the body of the comment. No email address = no entry. Winners will be drawn and contacted on the week ending 11th November 2011.

Ekaterina and the Night buy links:

Paperback (available in the US slightly later than the UK)

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ekaterina-Night-Maxim-Jakubowski/dp/190800696X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1315316359&sr=8-1

http://www.amazon.com/Ekaterina-Night-Maxim-Jakubowski/dp/190800696X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1315316363&sr=8-1

http://www.bookdepository.co.uk/Ekaterina-Night-Maxim-Jakubowski/9781908006967

http://www.waterstones.com/waterstonesweb/products/maxim+jakubowski/ekaterina+and+the+night/8396851/

http://www.whsmith.co.uk/CatalogAndSearch/ProductDetails.aspx?productID=9781908006967

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ekaterina-and-the-night-maxim-jakubowski/1102213975?ean=9781908006967&itm=1&usri=ekaterina%2band%2bthe%2bnight

eBook

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Ekaterina-and-the-Night-ebook/dp/B005PQIJ1Q/ref=sr_1_4?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1317114839&sr=1-4

http://www.amazon.com/Ekaterina-and-the-Night-ebook/dp/B005PQIJ1Q/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1317114887&sr=8-1

http://www.erotica-romance-ebooks.com/ekaterina-and-the-night.html

http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ekaterinaandthenight-598651-144.html

http://www.bookstrand.com/ekaterina-and-the-night

The Story Behind The Story: Taken By Surprise by Nichelle Gregory

The lovely Nichelle Gregory is my guest today on A Hopeful Romantic, and she’s sharing the story behind her sizzling paranormal romance, Taken by Surprise. Welcome, Nichelle!

 

Every story I’ve ever written has a backstory and Taken By Surprise is no different. This steamy erotic paranormal romance was originally penned for a submission call. I knew my heroine’s name would be Zori from the start. I’d had this name rattling around in my head for awhile to use. The name Zori has always evoked an image of a gorgeous, exotic female in my mind.

When I started working on Taken By Surprise, I knew I needed a unique heroine name that was memorable with a totally feminine feel. Finally, I was working on the right story and the right character for the name!

The Greek translation for Zori is: “Golden Dawn.” Beautiful, no? And so fitting for my wickedly beautiful heroine!

So, I had a name, but what exactly was Zori? I knew my hero would be a werewolf and I needed Zori to be just as fearsome. She had to be a supernatural being, but which one? I wanted to pick a female creature to write about that hadn’t been overly done. I wracked my brain for the perfectly fierce heroine. She had to be tough, yet sexy, scary, yet completely relatable to female readers.

And then it hit me! I would incorporate my love for Greek mythology and select one of my fave mythological creatures to base Zori after! Once I knew what Zori was, the rest of the story flowed. Taken By Surprise was one of those tales that literally wrote itself! The submission call I was crafting this tale for only wanted short stories of 5,000 words or less. Taken By Surprise ended up being just short of 4,000 words.

I was very pleased with how my edgy erotic tale came together. It was the first story in which my heroine actually died in the end! I submitted it and waited to hear if it would be selected for inclusion in the anthology.

Insert a *sigh* here.

My story wasn’t selected. I was a little bummed, okay, a lot bummed, but I’d told myself if my story wasn’t selected, I’d flesh out the rest it. I gave myself a new deadline and challenged myself in expanding the original work.

No longer needing it to be a dark erotic tale, I had to reshape the ending. We can’t have the heroine dying in an erotic romance! I took my time adding in parts, filling in scenes and making the story and characters pop with energy. The finished story ended up being almost 17,000 words and was even better than the original!

Taken By Surprise surprised me! I wasn’t certain I could truly broaden the story without disturbing the feel of it and I definitely didn’t expect it to be as long as it ended up being.

Lesson learned? Don’t let a rejection make you stop believing in your story. Do take another look at it, rework it if necessary, but pass it on to someone else who might just treasure your tale as much as you do!

Blurb:

Zori revels in the control she exerts over the opposite sex; no man has ever challenged her in the bedroom or out…until she meets Greyson. 

She’s beautiful, intelligent and sometimes deadly to the men who enter her bedroom. For Zori, voracious appetites for sex and food reign supreme. She’s never known rejection, romance or love…her life and heart has always been her own. The moment she sets eyes on Greyson, Zori makes it her quest to have him in her bed, but she’s finally met her match. Can two lovers with secrets face the truth and trust their hearts?

Excerpt:

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks.” Zori barely flicked a glance towards the handsome blond ogling her body as she walked by. Men could be so pathetic. She looked across the sunken dance floor to the bar against the back wall to see her target tilt back a bottle of beer. Her talons scrapped against the smooth floor as she waded through sweaty dancers along the wall to reach the other side of the club. As she approached, he turned around and their eyes met. A zing of anticipation raced through her blood as she moved next to him at the bar.

The thrill of the hunt always excited her.

She leaned against the counter, fully aware of his dark gaze running over her body as she pretended to inspect the bottles of alcohol on display in front of her. With a casual toss of her ebony tresses, she turned her face to see arresting brown eyes staring at her with interest. She moved a little closer to him with a practiced shy smile. “I’m Zori.”

“Greyson.” He offered a slight grin before taking another sip of his drink.
Up close, her guy was taller and bigger than she first estimated which pleased her. She felt sorry for the expensive suit straining to give way to the hard muscles concealed underneath. “Happy Halloween.”

Greyson lifted an eyebrow. “Back at you.”

The sexy smile curving his full lips tempted her to pounce on him right then and there, witnesses be damned.

“Are you here alone?”

He turned his body towards her, his deep voice carrying easily over the loud music.

“Yes.”

“Really…wow.”

His eyes moved from her folded wings down over the rest of her body.

Zori smiled, pleased, even though she’d heard enough compliments to last a lifetime. “Dance with me?” She began to move her hips to the seductive rhythmic pull of the DJ’s house mix which was tripling her desire to get him alone.

Greyson looked down at her feathered feet. “Can you dance in those?” His gaze lingered on her sharp claws.

Zori laughed. “C’mon.” She led him to the dance area and was even more impressed to discover he was a great dancer.

He pulled her in tight as she closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his strong body moving against her own. She wrapped her arms around the thick column of his neck and drew in a tempting whiff of his sexy cologne. Dancing was nirvana. This was the one time she allowed her male partners to take the lead which Greyson did so masterfully. Their bodies swayed and dipped to the music as one and Zori enjoyed every minute of it.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Greyson asked several songs later when both of them were breathless and laughing.

“Absolutely.”

She took his hand as he manoeuvred them back to the bar. He stood out with his good looks and in his fine suit and females noticed him, eyeballed him, to Zori’s annoyance. She flashed one chick who had the audacity to step in the way of his path a venomous look that clearly said: He’s all mine, lady.

And she could hardly wait.

 

Taken By Surprise is available now with Total E-Bound Publishing!

 

Buy Link: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1281

Author Bio:

Nichelle Gregory has been in love with books and writing since middle school. A lover of the arts, she enjoys anything that embraces the creative nature within us all. Bringing believable characters to life that thrill and excite her readers is a challenge that continues to push Nichelle. She loves creating stories involving super sexy alpha heroes with divine heroines in magical, exotic, and fantastic scenarios. So, gone on . . . Indulge your secret fetishes and desires in one of my simply sexy stories!   Visit her website http://www.simplysexystories.com and blog http://www.simplysexystories.blogspot.com

 

Thanks, Nichelle! As a lover of Greek mythology, and a lover of hot romance, I’d say you have a scorcher on your hands!

The Story Behind Jacqueline Applebee’s Anthology, ‘Bisexual Men’

I’m very happy to have one of my favourite people, and an amazing erotic author, the fantastic Jacqueline Applebee, as my guest this week. Jacqi will be telling us the story behind her hot new anthology, ‘Bisexual Men.’ Welcome Jacqui!

I wrote Bisexual Men because simply put, I’d hardly ever read about bisexual men as a subject or a group before.  I could find books full of erotic stories about bisexual women, where the men were strictly heterosexual; even in threesome stories men would never touch each other.  I knew that bisexual men existed, but in the realm of erotic fiction they were rarely seen.  This seemed to reflect the prevalent media image where men are either “gay, straight or lying.”

I’ve been active with various bisexual communities in the U.K for the past eighteen years.  I’ve heard many negative stereotypes and myths about bisexual people, but for some reason, bisexual men really bear the brunt of a lot of hate.  I decided that I could either be depressed by that or I could turn it on its head.

Bisexual Men contains a mixture of stories.  In some tales, bisexual characters are out and proud, but in others coming out is a slow and careful process.  As I wrote this collection, I knew that this was something different, important but still incredibly sexy too.  I’m not ashamed to say that the thought of two or more men together really turns me on!

Gender was something that has interested me for many years. I used to identify as mostly-female, but not totally.  It still took me some time to realise that there are more than two genders out there. One of my stories in this collection, ‘Recognition’ tells of a female to male transman who finds acceptance and satisfying sex at a party, but only when his boyfriend stops treating him like a delicate woman who needs protecting.

Another rarity in erotic fiction is when outwardly-seeming gay men decide to be with women.  ‘Invisible Me’ was inspired by listening to a bisexual man talk about his experiences coming out as gay, and how things changed for him when he started identifying as bisexual several years later.

‘David does BiCon’ is something I’d wanted to write for ages.  BiCon (U.K bisexual convention) is an event that I’ve attended every year since 2007. It is incredible to be in a space where bisexuality is the norm, and where you can attend workshops on subjects as diverse as BDSM for beginners, Bi people in Sci-Fi, and Bisexuals of Colour.  I’ve met a few of my partners at BiCon, and I’ve made a lot of good friends there too.  I think I’ve done a good job of summing up the crazy weekend of fun in this story!

One of the biggest challenges for me was to write so many stories from a male point of view.  I also wanted to have stories where the protagonist was someone other than a young white man. Writing Bisexual Men has been a real learning experience for me.  I think I’ve grown as a result of writing stories very different to my usual style.  I trialled a lot of the stories at BiCon, and I also gave them to a few men of different sexualities to read.  The feedback I’ve received so far has been overwhelmingly positive, which is something I’m really pleased about.  It is my hope that everyone who reads this collection will enjoy it.  I hope they will be more aware of bisexual men as a unique group, and of course, I hope they get turned on too!

 Short blurb for Bisexual Men

Bisexual men are everywhere—haven’t you read about it yet?  These fifteen tales celebrate the sexy adventures by men who really do go both ways.  They love soft feminine curves and hard masculine muscles—as long as the action is hot, nothing will spoil the fun to be had!

Excerpt from Invisible Me:

There are some things I will eternally be grateful to gay men for: rubbering up was never high on my agenda until I attended a sexual health workshop run by the Terrence Higgins Trust years ago.  Of course everyone there thought I was a homosexual until I took off my jacket to reveal a tee-shirt with the slogan, ‘bats for both sides’ on it.  The friendly smiles dried up pretty quickly when I did that, but I was younger then.  I truly didn’t give a shit in those days.

I squeeze out a ribbon of lube from the pump dispenser on the dresser.  I rub myself up and down, spreading the slick fluid over my cock.  Sylvia’s eyes grow wide, dark.  A ribbed condom goes on next with a single flick of my wrist.  I cup my balls, look down, and then gaze up through my eyelashes; a patented move designed to make my lover’s mouth water.  I may be older than most studs, but hey I’ve still got it, and what’s more, I know how to use it too.

I take my time moving to the bed.  Sylvia wraps her long legs around my waist once I get close to her.  I hold her hands, pinning them to the mattress.  I move my hips, teasing her with my cock.  She tries to get it inside her, but I move just so, barely touching her pussy.  Sylvia wrenches one arm from my grip, and then she pulls me to her, kissing me with fierceness so strong that I am surprised.  When she leans back, her lips are swollen, and her face is flushed.  I let go of her other hand.

“Turn.”

My lover turns over, positions herself on her hands and knees.  I take in the long planes of her back, the fine hairs that start at her spine, only to disappear into the dark shadows of her arse.  I smell sweat and arousal.  I see her puckered hole twitch and relax.  I step back to the dresser, find a latex glove beneath the pile of condoms in their little silver packets.  I work the glove over my fingers, and then snap it on completely, making Sylvia jump slightly on the bed.  She is beautiful, but she is also the best kind of slut; she spreads her legs wider for me.  The squelch of the lube on my hands makes me shiver.  One finger delves to my lover’s arse, gently pressing until the muscled ring of flesh gives in to me.  I feel, rather than hear Sylvia moan; the tremor moves up my arm.  A second finger joins the first.  My lover pants and shudders beneath me.  My cock is so hard; just one touch could set me off.  I push inside her slippery pussy, feel consumed by this woman.  My fingers are rapidly being squeezed and pressed whilst my cock is sucked and massaged.  I steady myself, thrust in deeper.  I want to make Sylvia scream.

If gay men gave me an appreciation of rubbering up, then lesbian literature gave me all the knowledge I’d need about g-spots.  I know I’m on target when Sylvia’s voice drops an octave.  She thrusts back against me, harder and harder.  She comes shaking, clenching around me.  I carefully remove my fingers from her arse, and then I speed up my thrusts in her pussy.  I squeeze my eyes shut as I come; whisper her name.  We both collapse onto the bed in a sweaty heap.  I hold her as tightly as I dare.

I want to pull out, and then take her up the arse, even if I won’t be hard again for a while.  I want to be rougher with her than she’d let me.  I want to bend down, kiss a shaven head, and run fingers over a flat chest.  I love Sylvia, but I feel the little flame bend and twist inside me.  I don’t want my fire to go out.  I hold the base of the condom, slip out of her, and then I tie a knot in the rubber.  She doesn’t see me as I move.

I don’t stay the night.  I’ve got a presentation at work the next day, and I want to practice my big sell some more.  I can’t concentrate though; nothing makes sense.  I fluff my lines each time I try.  I give up, and go to bed thoroughly pissed off.

I wake up in the middle of the night; my cock is hard, and my mind is racing.  I dig out my old faithful: a gay trucker DVD.  Large muscular men grab arses, pound into sweaty flesh.  The screen is full of sucking, fucking, bad-ass truck drivers.  I haven’t hitchhiked in over fifteen years.  I never met any truckers like those onscreen during my travels, mores’ the pity.  I wank to the sound of digitised groans, and come into a handful of tissues I keep by the sofa.  I finally fall asleep feeling spent and satisfied.

Where to buy Bisexual Men

eXcessica http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=456

Amazon.co.uk http://www.amazon.co.uk/Bisexual-Men-ebook/dp/B005OSIWOY/

Amazon.com in print. https://www.createspace.com/3535782

Amazon.com as an ebook http://www.amazon.com/Bisexual-Men-ebook/dp/B005OSIWOY

About Jacqueline Applebee

Jacqueline Applebee is a writer who breaks down barriers with smut. Her work has appeared in Best Women’s Erotica, Ultimate Lesbian Erotica, and many other anthologies.  She has written several novels, details of which can be found on her website (http://www.writing-in-shadows.co.uk)

Jacqueline can also be found online on her bisexual blog (http://j-applebee.tumblr.com), her polyamorous blog (http://howbigisyourheart) and on Twitter (http://twitter.com/applewriter)

‘Bats for both sides’ is one of a range of bisexual themed tee shirts available at the Bisexual Index (http://www.bisexualindex.org.uk/index.php/TheShop)

 

Thanks for stopping by, Jacqui! You nearly melted my monitor with this hot excerpt. Hope my Kindle can handle the heat!

Food Memories with Victoria Blisse

I’m very excited to have the fabulous Victoria Blisse on A Hopeful Romantic today, talking yummy food memories and talking about her hot story, Tasty Italian. Welcome, Victoria!

I love food. I love to cook it and I certainly love to eat it. It’s something we all have to do every single day and eating is an integral part of many special occasions. Some foods we don’t only love because they taste delicious but because that experience reminds of us a special moment in life.

Burnt roast potatoes, oh, I’m sorry, well done roast potatoes reminds me of a Christmas when I was small and my sister was smaller. She was very passionate about potatoes and when a few weeks before the big day she got a potato with a burnt bottom she told our Nanna in no uncertain terms that such sloppiness would not be tolerated on the big day.

We have a photo taken around the table groaning with Christmas food and each of us wearing daft paper hats but with one strange addition. My sister grasping a fork in her hand proudly displaying the evidence. One roast potato with a burnt bottom.

Every year since I was four with very few exceptions I have been to Scarborough on the east coast of England for a holiday. The one thing I look forward to most is a jaconelli’s ice cream. Rich, sweet and creamy the real genius is in making it a lemon top and having a dollop of sharp lemony sorbet on the top of it. One of those ice creams and the scent and sight of the sea is contentment for my soul.

12 years ago I prepared a pavlova. I made the meringue base, whipped the cream and scattered the juicy ruby red raspberries over the top to make it glorious. I made it especially for my boyfriend of the time.  After eating his portion he proposed to me and now we’ve been married for eleven years. Pavlova is one of my most treasured desserts.

I’m pretty sure that the food item in the next excerpt from Tasty Italian will have become a definite food memory for Fiona and I’m sure you’ll be able to work out why!

 

 

Excerpt

“You’re a genius.” She smacked her lips. “This is the best cheesecake I’ve ever eaten.”

Roberto beamed. “I knew you were a lovely girl the moment I saw you. You have great taste, mia bella, great taste!”

“So, have you been coming here long?” Carlo asked.

“Not so very long. I only came in for the first time last week.”

“Really? I thought you must have known Roberto all your life or something the way he goes on about you.” Carlo looked genuinely surprised.

“No, no, no. I knew I liked her the moment we met. Roberto gives his love freely, you can tell, you can taste love in my cheesecake and see it in my smile. Fiona is a special lady, Carlo, so look after her, okay?”

“Oh, Roberto.” Fiona giggled. “I’m so glad I gave in to the urge for garlic bread last Friday, you’re lovely.”

Even so, she was rather taken aback. She’d never inspired such instant admiration in a person before and some people might have found him a little bit overwhelming. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit she probably was a little overawed. He wasn’t creepy, though, and it was wonderful to be pampered. She hadn’t felt so cherished for a long time, not since her mum passed away.

“Shall I leave you two alone?” Carlo asked playfully.

“Oh hush, you silly boy, I am old enough to be her papa. She is too beautiful for an old man like me. You, you are more her style.”

“She is too beautiful for me, too but it does not mean I will not try, you know?”

Fiona didn’t know where to look or what to say, so she took a quick mouthful of cheesecake so she wouldn’t have to say anything. Roberto was being his usual extravagant self, but she just wasn’t sure about Carlo. Was he genuinely interested in her or was he just playing along to keep in his boss’s good books?

“You’re embarrassing her, Carlo, do behave will you? You’d never see me being so extravagant with my affection.”

Carlo, Fiona and Roberto all broke into peals of laughter and continued to devour their desserts.

“I can’t eat another mouthful.” Fiona gasped when she’d eaten just over half of what she had on her plate.

“I shall put the leftovers in a box for you to eat later then, love, okay?” Roberto said.

“No, really, you don’t have to, I really shouldn’t.”

“Oh, hush, hush, you take it, you eat it. It’s good for you, keep those curves soft and appealing, okay? No arguments.” He stood and carried her plate away.

Fiona looked at Carlo.

He just shrugged. “Best just to go along with him, it’s easier. Now, I better get on. I’ve enjoyed eating you, I mean, sorry, I mean with you, my English needs work.”

“No problem.” Fiona smiled. “Your English is brilliant and one hundred per cent better than my Italian!”

“Ah, maybe I shall teach you my words and you can teach me yours, yes?” Carlo smiled.

“Sounds good to me, Carlo.” Fiona yawned and delicately covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, but now I think I need to get home to bed.”

Fiona was sure Carlo’s look resembled a leer for a moment but then he was all smiles and leading her to the door.

“Good-bye Fiona,” Roberto shouted and rushed across the restaurant towards her. “I will see you next week, yes?”

“Yes, certainly. I can’t keep away.”

Bellisimo,” he cried and leant in to kiss Fiona on both cheeks.

She responded in somewhat of a daze as she hadn’t been expecting kisses. “I shall look forward to it. Well, maybe I’ll see you next Friday, Carlo.”

“Oh, you for sure will.” He unlocked the door. “I always work here in the evenings while I live with Roberto. It’s to pay my rent, you see.”

“All right then, I’ll see you next week.”

She shuffled forwards anticipating Carlo opening the door, but he stepped back. They crashed into one another.

“Oh, sorry.” He grabbed Fiona around the tops of her arms. “I’m so clumsy.”

“No, no, it was my fault,” she replied, holding her hands in fists as she fought the urge to reach around his waist and pull him close. “I’m sorry.”

“An accident.” He grinned, then leant forward to kiss one cheek then the other.

Fiona’s skin blossomed with heat with each touch of his lips, her nostrils flared to take in his spicy, male scent and her hands trembled with withheld desire.

“See you next week, Fiona.”

She expected him to pull back away but he didn’t. His gaze focused on her lips and split seconds before he did it she realised he was going to kiss her properly. She would have panicked but she didn’t have the time so she just accepted the press of his lips against hers.

If she had thought she felt hot before she was greatly mistaken. When his lips touched hers she felt as if her body was on fire. She pressed her lips harder against his to ease the burning in her veins but a moment later he pulled back just as she expected the kiss to deepen.

“Bye,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and her throat dry. She thought that maybe Italians did two cheek kisses and a snog as a regular thing.

 

To read more of Fiona and Carlo’s love story pick up Tasty Italian from Total-E-Bound. One lucky winner could win a copy though. Simply leave a comment about one of your food memories and you’ll be popped into a draw to win a copy of Tasty Italian.

Many thanks to the lovely KD for hosting me here today, I had a great time writing this and I look forward to reading all the food memory comments.

It was a yummy pleasure to have you on my site, Victoria, and you’ve made me VERY hungry! AND anxious to read Tasty Italian.

Sex in a Holy Place by Lucy Felthouse

My lovely guest today is right on schedule with her plans to conquer the world, and I can’t think of anyone who’d be better set in charge of it. Plus she writes really hot smut. Welcome, Lucy Felthouse, who is here to tell us all about sex in a holy place.

 

Writing about sex in a holy place was certainly not my intention when I started writing BITE WITH HEIGHT. The story was wholly influenced by a visit to Paris, and in particular, the Sacré-Coeur, but I wasn’t expecting my characters to get it on within the premises. It just kind of… happened.

When I visited the beautiful building seated on the highest point in Paris I was completely inspired and I knew that it would feature in my work at some point. The more I explored, the more I started getting ideas of a paranormal nature. When I actually sat down to write BITE WITH HEIGHT I didn’t know precisely where it was going to go. I just knew that my main character would share my passion for the Sacred Heart.

When the story progressed and it became apparent that my characters were going to get down and dirty on the roof of the building, I didn’t hesitate. It’s not gratuitous sex within a holy place, written purely to shock. It’s an integral part of the story – but of course it’s still naughty. And that’s why I love it – it’s actually a very sweet romantic tale (especially for me!) but there are some rather taboo elements within it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing it, especially since there’s a sequel in the works…

Here’s a little taster:

Meg laughed, tugging Grace in for another kiss. This time both girls were on the same page, and the kiss was toe-curlingly sensual. Soon, Meg pulled away, only to trail her lips down the other girl’s throat and begin planting soft kisses and trailing her tongue across the delicate skin there. Grace gasped, and tangled her fingers in Meg’s hair.

“Trust me,” Meg said softly, fearing Grace thought she was going to bite her. “I will never do anything you don’t want me to.”

“I know. It just feels damn good, that’s all. Don’t stop.”

“Oh, I have no intention of stopping.”

When Grace didn’t reply, Meg began to undo the buttons of her shirt, eventually parting the sides to reveal Grace’s body. She was so pale she could almost be a vampire herself. She had pert breasts, not overly large, nor small. Just right in fact, thought Meg as she cupped them together and trailed her tongue up the deep cleavage she’d created.

By now Grace had shrugged off her shirt and let it fall to the floor. Pushing her so the back of her knees hit the bench behind, Meg maneuvered Grace into a sitting position. Kissing down her stomach, she began to undo her jeans, then smiled into the girl’s flesh as Grace’s hips pushed towards her. From innocent to rampant in a matter of minutes. Meg loved Grace more every second.

“Shall we get these off then?” she asked, tugging at Grace’s jeans. The response came by way of some mad wriggling. The jeans joined the shirt on the floor. Grace was now clad only in her underwear – her shoes having been kicked off along with the jeans. And by God, she was stunning. With pale skin and black bra and panties, she looked quite the vamp. For a non-vamp, that is.

Meg slipped her fingers into the waistband of Grace’s panties and tugged them down, the other girl once more assisting with some jigging around. Looking up at Grace, Meg assessed her facial expression, as if looking for permission to continue. Grace nodded, almost imperceptibly. Meg needed no more prompting.

*****

Bite With Height

BITE WITH HEIGHT

When Meg spots a young woman alone in the Pigalle district of Paris at night, she’s intrigued. She has to know her story and find out why she looks so sad and alone. After introducing herself, Meg realizes that she and Grace have a lot in common. But when they decide to go and grab a drink together, they discover a mutual love that could bond them forever.

Available from:
Noble Romance
Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
BookStrand
Barnes & Noble (Nook)

*****

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter.