Category Archives: Blog

Lucy Felthouse Caught in the Act

Kojo Black from Sweetmeats Press asking me to write a story for an anthology seems like such a long time ago now. Flattered that he’d asked me, and even more so when I found out who my fellow bookmates were going to be, I then started to panic. The theme was voyeurism – so broad, and therefore a ton of scope. My brain flailed about madly trying to come up with something. And then, finally, my poor abused grey matter came up with the goods.

I’d write about dogging. Of course, never having been dogging, I knew there’d be a lot of research to do, but I was up to the challenge. My laptop keys were bashed, and Google and its deliciously dirty results were exploited. Before long, I knew everything I could ever need to know about dogging – including where my local meeting places were. Let’s just say that I’ll never look at that car park in the same way ever again. 😉

The next challenge was making sure my story would extend beyond my usual 2 – 4k short story range. Kojo wanted something between 7 – 12k, if I remember rightly. Since then, I’ve penned much longer works and am clawing my way towards novel length works, but at the time, I was terrified. I needn’t have worried. It meant that I could create a lot more build up to the climactic scene, which, consequently meant I could tease and torment the fuck out of my lead character. Poor Dave. He never knew what hit him. I turned a perfectly respectable Police Constable into a voyeuristic slave to kinky sex.

And he loves every minute 😉

Here’s the blurb and an excerpt from my story, Caught in the Act, to whet your appetite:

Blurb:

Police Constable David Beckett is just a normal guy, living a quiet life. His only excitement comes from his job – and even that’s not exactly been a barrel of laughs just lately. That is until his colleagues burst into the office one morning, full of tales from the night shift. Tales that cause Dave’s curiosity to get the better of him. Some idle surfing on the Internet opens up a whole world that Dave never knew existed – and he’s fascinated. After watching an amateur video, things escalate quickly and Dave finds himself drawn into a kinky lifestyle that could cost him his reputation – and his job.

Excerpt:

When the door banged open and a group of his colleagues piled into the room, Police Constable David Beckett jumped, almost spilling his coffee onto his computer keyboard. He’d been enjoying a nice, peaceful game of Solitaire before beginning his shift and now they’d screwed his concentration, not to mention his high score. He closed down the game resignedly and wryly observed his workmates as they got whatever was riling them out of their system.

They were jostling and nudging one another, and there was some serious eyebrow wiggling going on. PC Beckett, Dave to his friends, could only guess that one of the guys had a new girlfriend and was being teased about it. Heaven knows, he’d been on the receiving end of such ribbing more than once, which is why he now kept his – currently non-existent – love life as private as he possibly could. Of course, that didn’t put a complete end to the teasing, as he now had to put up with the occasional joke about his sexuality.

Whatever it was they were talking about, it had gotten the guys seriously excited. As they drew closer to his end of the open plan office, Dave began to pick up snippets of the conversation. It didn’t help him to work out what was going on. In fact, it was like they were speaking a different language. He frowned, wondering if there’d been a TV show on last night that he’d missed and they’d all watched. He wasn’t much of a TV buff and was always the last to catch on to shows everyone else was glued to. But of course they’d all been on a night shift last night, so it couldn’t be that. Dave waited. He knew he’d find out soon enough.

As some of the boys began to move towards Dave’s end of the office, it was like they’d only just realised he was there. Instead of shouting the customary greetings across the room and settling down at their own workstations, several of the PCs congregated at Dave’s desk. They were still wearing stupid grins and Dave was, by now, was getting fed up of being the last one in on the joke.

“So,” Dave said, eager now to find out what all the excitement was about, “what’s going on?”

“Mate!” said Tim, “You wouldn’t believe what you missed last night on shift!”

Sharing stories wasn’t uncommon within the office, particularly if they were funny ones. But in their line of work, there wasn’t much that was classed as unbelievable any more, so Dave knew it was going to be something of note. He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

Tim continued, obviously desperate to impart the news. “We got a call sayin’ that there was some drug dealing goin’ on in a car park. It sounded pretty big, so we did a raid. Only, when we got there, it wasn’t quite what we expected.”

Tim glanced at the other two guys with him, Jamie and Chris, and the three of them burst into hearty guffaws. Dave looked around the room, and a couple of other officers who must have also been there were peering over at them out of the corner of their eyes, with smirks on their faces.

“Well!” he said, getting annoyed now, “What is it? What happened?”

“Fucking hell,” said Jamie, “keep your hair on, mate. You’ll think it’s funny, too, honest. We’re just sorry you missed it. Go on, Tim, get on with it.”

Pulling himself together, Tim looked back at Dave, his eyes still crinkled with mirth. “Sorry, buddy. Anyway, as I was sayin’, we gets to this car park at the back of the country park, you know the one” – Dave nodded his acquiescence – “and drive in. We’re going in pretty stealthy as we don’t want anyone disappearing off into the bushes so when we pull up, they’re still gettin’ on with what they were doin’.”

He paused for breath, and Dave waited, knowing this couldn’t possibly be the end of the story.

“Naturally, we was a bit confused as to why they hadn’t spotted us yet. Normally they’re a bit more alert, aren’t they?” The question rhetorical, Tim continued, “So we got out of the cars and got closer, thinkin’ surely someone has heard or seen us by now. Personally, I wondered if they were all so out of their trees that they had no idea what was goin’ on. By the time we got on top of ‘em, though, we saw what the problem was.”
Dave raised his eyebrows, waiting for the punchline. It didn’t take long.

“They weren’t drug dealers, mate!” he said, clapping Dave heavily on the shoulder, almost making him headbutt his computer screen. “They were doggers!”

Want more? Check out the buy links for Immoral Views and Caught in the Act.

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, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

A Chat with the Fabulous Jane Wenham-Jones

My guest today is an amazing, multi-talented woman, who knows how to put people at ease, make any interview shine AND write a damn good novel! Please welcome the fabulous Jane Wenham-Jones!

KD: Jane, you truly are a woman of many talents. Your website is very inspiring, especially your story! Fiction, non-fiction, columns, mags, telly, radio. I have to ask, which part of being Jane Wenham-Jones, multi-talented professional woman, do you like best?

JANE: My problem is that I love it all and there aren’t the hours in the day! I really do enjoy interviewing other writers and doing the presenting/chairing panels events, that I do at Guildford Book Festival, Romantic Novelists’ Association conference etc. Would love to do more of that. I just co-hosted the Romantic Novel of the Year Awards with Peter James. And then I’m doing an “in conversation with” Tim Bentinck (David Archer in The Archers) end of March – that will be fun too. But I have to say I’m feeling it’s time to start writing another book and ought to be chaining myself to the desk….

KD: What does Jane Wenham-Jones do for inspiration?

JANE: Gets out and about with a glass in her hand…

KD: I could paper my house with the rejections I received from agents before I finally got publishes, also without an agent. So your experience of getting published without an agent really resonated with me, as I’m sure it does with lots of writers. Do you think the un-agented route to publication is the maverick route or do you think it’s the wave or the future?

JANE: I think it may be the necessity of the future! It can be really hard to get an agent and as you know (I tell the whole ghastly story in Wannabe a Writer?) I ended up with a two-book deal with Transworld, without one. But I always advise other writers to try their very best to get an agent first. I have one now and wouldn’t be without her (even if she is terrifying – I don’t call her The Fearsome One for nothing).

KD: Which do you enjoy most, writing fiction or writing non-fiction?

JANE: I think I find non-fiction easier! But it is very satisfying to sit and look through a novel one’s dreamt up oneself.

KD: You said on your website that you find writing novels very difficult, what do you do to ‘make it happen?’ Have you worked out a specific method that will get you there in spite of the difficulties?

JANE: I call it MIND THE GAP (again outlined in Wannabe a Writer? Sorry to mention that again but you don’t have to buy it dear reader – your library should have it) (If you’ve still got one of course :-/). Basically you keep going whatever happens and write yourself notes in capitals in the gaps….

KD: A lot of us writers are introverts and have to really fake the extroverted part of public readings and appearances. What about you? Do you fake it? You certainly make it look like the easiest most natural thing in the world.

JANE: I kept faking till it became real… Now I am the most dreadful show-off.

KD: Other than having your first novel published, what’s the most exciting thing that’s happened in your writing life?

JANE: Oh gosh lots of things. I get excited quite easily. Getting my columns was lovely, writing my first non-fiction book. Blagging an invite to the British Book Awards and rubbing shoulders with all those fabulous authors. Interviewing some big name writers at Guildford Book Festival. Being booked to speak about writing, on a cruise ship headed for Barbados…

KD: Wow! Definitely sounds like you have a lot of exciting things to choose from! Where do you find the inspiration for your novels?

JANE: My own murky past mostly.

KD: In your book, Wannabe a Writer?, you’ve got over a hundred contributors who are writers, some quite famous, like Jilly Cooper and Frederick Forsyth – nothing like advice from the best! What, in your opinion, is the best piece of advice any of the writers who contributed to Wannabe a Writer? gave?

JANE: Oooh you’ve mentioned it now! Well done 

Well I rather liked Michael Buerk’s tho my mother was horrified. The best advice anyone can give to any writer is to WRITE. And quite a few said that in various different ways.
I liked Zoe Sharp’s advice too: Therapy’s cheaper!

KD: It definitely is! Tell us about your latest novel, Prime Time.

JANE: Prime Time is about PMT and Daytime TV and being a woman of a certain age who doesn’t want to give in to slippers and curlers just yet….
Here’s the blurb – it’s set in my home town of Broadstairs as well as in London.

Laura Meredith never imagined herself appearing on TV– she’s too old, too flabby, too downright hormonal, and much too busy holding things together for her son, Stanley, after husband, Daniel, left her for a younger, thinner replacement.

But best friend Charlotte is a determined woman and when Laura is persuaded on to a daytime show to talk about her PMT, everything changes. Suddenly there’s a camera crew tracking her every move and Laura finds herself an unlikely star. Wined, dined, and pampered, she begins to see the charms of a younger partner herself. But as things hot up between her and gorgeous TV director, Cal, they’re going downhill elsewhere. While Laura’s caught up in a heady whirlwind of beauty treatments, makeovers and glamorous film locations, Charlotte’s husband, Roger, is concealing a guilty secret, Stanley’s got problems at school, work’s piling up, and when Laura turns detective to protect Charlotte’s marriage, things go horribly wrong.

The champagne’s flowing as Laura’s prime time TV debut looks set to be a hit. But in every month, there’s a Day Ten …

KD: Wow! Sounds like quite a romp! Definitely one for the must-read list. So tell us, what does 2012 have in store for Jane Wenham-Jones?

JANE: I guess I’d better do some work at some point…
I don’t know what the crystal ball shows but what I’d like is the editor of a national newspaper to phone me up and offer me an agony aunt column. I love doing “Talk it Over” for Writing Magazine and am now longing to get my teeth into some non-writing problems too. I see myself as a cross between Mrs Mills and Marje Proops – with attitude. Any takers?

KD: They’d be insane not to, Jane! Thanks so much for stopping by and sharing good stuff about writing, reading, and your fabulous new novel, Prime Time! It’s been a pleasure having your.

Jane’s Website:

www.janewenham-jones.com

Buy Link for Prime Time:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Prime-Time-ebook/dp/B006M0TUQC/ref=dp_return_1?ie=UTF8&n=341677031&s=digital-text

The Cottage in the Woods: The Latest Heat from Lucy Felthouse

A new Lesbian paranormal erotic romance by Lucy Felthouse.

Blurb:

Living in her remote cottage in the woods, Heidi doesn’t get many visitors. So when she spots a fox in her garden, she’s delighted. However, her joy quickly turns to dismay when she thinks the beautiful creature may be injured. Heading out to see how she can help, Heidi is astounded when something happens that makes her question her eyesight – not to mention her sanity. Once she gets over her shock and discovers the reason behind the peculiar encounter, Heidi is mighty glad that the fox chose her garden to visit.

Excerpt:

A movement in the garden caught Heidi’s attention immediately. She peered out into the dark, her hands still immersed in the washing up bowl as she tried to catch another glimpse of whatever was lurking in the darkness outside her kitchen window. She wasn’t frightened, merely curious. She lived so far out in the wilderness that it could only be an animal, and the last time she’d checked, they couldn’t open locked doors. So she was perfectly safe.

What made her nocturnal visitor so unusual was its proximity to the house. Animals were braver in the city, where they’d become used to humans. But out here, they were still timid and very wary of man. Heidi’s little cottage was practically screaming that it was occupied, with its smoking chimney and blazing lights and yet the creature – whatever it was – was almost outside the window. Heidi frowned. Something definitely wasn’t right.

Another flash of movement, and Heidi finally identified her visitor. The beautiful russet fur, big bushy tail with flecks of white – there was a fox in her garden.

Grinning, Heidi rushed to dry her hands on a tea towel and then moved across the room to flick off the light switch. She waited until her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, then made her way back to the window. She spied the fox immediately, crouched down beside the hedge surrounding her garden, as though it was hunting something. A life-long nature lover, Heidi smiled, truly appreciating the stunning beauty of the creature. But the longer Heidi watched the animal, the more confused she became.

The fox hadn’t moved for some time. If it was hunting, surely it would have pounced by now? A sinking feeling rolled through Heidi’s stomach. Perhaps it wasn’t stalking after all, but lying down because it was injured? She knew that out here, if the fox was hurt, it had been attacked by another predator, rather than had a run-in with a moving vehicle. After all, the only vehicle around these parts was hers, so unless her truck had gone all Christine, it certainly wasn’t that.

No, it had to be another animal. It was survival of the fittest, the food chain and all that. She knew how these things worked, but there was no way she could leave the poor creature suffering in her garden. Not if she could do something about it.

Heidi began to plan exactly what to do. She knew that if the fox was injured and couldn’t move, it could snap at her in self-defence, it having no idea that her intentions were good. She desperately wanted to help the vulnerable creature, but preferably without ending up needing stitches and a tetanus shot.

As Heidi gazed into the darkness, trying to work out a solution, she lost her mind. At least, that’s the conclusion she came to as her eyes relayed an image to her brain which couldn’t possibly be accurate.

Book trailer link: http://youtu.be/utJRVepZ6Mw

More info & buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-cottage-in-the-woods/

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, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

Allotted Views and Veggie Wet Dreams

I already have a reputation for writing garden porn, so when Sweetmeats Press’s fearless leader KoJo Black asked me if I’d write a dirty voyeurism story for the Immoral Views anthology, I knew it had to be garden porn. And here’s why.

Space for veg gardening is at a premium in the urban areas of the UK, and though we live in a bedroom community near London, we still don’t have a lot of space, and we’ve planted up every bit of our garden we can with veg. Every year the lawn gets smaller and the veg patch gets bigger, and we have gardener’s wet dreams of being able to plant all the sweet corn we can eat, or being able to have enough peas to freeze.

Because of where we live, there’s a very long wait for allotments. (For my American readers, allotments are the UK version of Victory Gardens.) We put in for an allotment three years ago. We live in hope. And in the meantime, the lawn still gets smaller.

There are some gorgeous allotments on one of our favourite walking paths set on the edge of the lovely village of Sheer along the Tillingbourne River. Every time we walk that route, we linger and gaze longingly over the fence at the brassicas and strawberries and runner beans and every other veg and fruit imaginable. We do that at every allotment, actually, we give it our best voyeuristic look-see, our pulse rates accelerate, and we talk dirty to each other – you know, compost-type dirty, phallic veg, type dirty, luscious, probing the earth type dirty. Oh yes, how we fantasise!

That was the actual inspiration for my story of Rose, who lives in a big house overlooking the Bluebell Street Allotments, and Jonathan, who is assigned the plot right below her bedroom window. His nasty, unorthodox gardening techniques get Rose’s full attention, and give her hours of filthy, blissful entertainment. But just how secret is her voyeuristic pleasure? Does Jonathan know more than he’s letting on?

Blurb:

When the mysterious JONATHAN takes on the thin strip of bramble-infested ground in the Blue Bell Street Allotments, veg gardener extraordinaire, ROSE, whose bedroom window overlooks his ‘small holding,’ wonders what idiot would take on such a project. When she ‘accidentally’ sees him chanting a bit of woo-woo and having a midnight wank under a full moon in his newly rotovated plot, she suspects his methods aren’t found in any RHS manual.

As watching his late night garden antics becomes more for voyeuristic pleasure than for sussing out sound horticultural practices, and as Jonathan’s garden grows more exquisite with every wank, Rose begins to wonder if there just might be something to a little sex woo-woo in the garden. But can she learn Jonathan’s secret without him learning hers, or will she be forced to come clean?

Excerpt:

Before my eyes, he stepped out of a pair of ratty Birkenstocks and slid baggy cargo trousers off over his straight hips and the pillowed swell of his bottom. He kicked them carelessly to one side. Apparently the occasion had called for commando, and I didn’t have to endure more disrobing before I was treated to the full-on. He was heavy, but not yet erect, hanging as though the weight of his cock was too much to comfortably bear so precariously stretched between his thighs. It sprawled over the rounded outward press of his balls in their cushion of springy curls that looked nearly transparent in the pale light.

The moon was a burnished disk, peeking through the branches of the lime trees on the far edge of the allotments. He stood with his back to it and his expanding personal geography facing my window. Then he raised his head, and my heart did a guilty flip-flop, certain he’d caught me watching. But he couldn’t possibly see me, I reassured myself as he stood there eyes lifted, chest rising and falling beneath the twin peaks of those exquisite nipples, rising and falling almost as though he were about to lift his voice in song and serenade me. But serenading wasn’t what he had in mind.

I held my breath. My pulse was a frantic flutter against my throat. My eyes stung from not blinking, not wanting to miss anything. Then his right hand took control of his penis with a firm grip, a gardener’s grip, a gardener who knew the proper use of his tools. At the moment of contact a shudder ran up his straight spine, and a tight grunt followed by a throaty sigh escaped his parted full lips.

It wasn’t until then that I believed the man was actually going to do it. He was actually going to have a wank right there on his well-rotovated allotment. And at that same moment, my own plan of action became equally evident. I was not going to go back to bed and give the man his privacy, privacy he didn’t even know he no longer had, so would obviously not miss. I was going to stay right where I was and watch. I was going to watch until the fat lady sang, and I was going to have a little diddle of my own. If he could be so brazen to cause such a disturbance just below my window on a work night, then I could be brazen too.

Buy links:

Amazon UK (paperback)
Smashwords

Eroticon Rocks Bristol

Apoligies from the photo staff: for the lack of pictures of the event. Without my trusty hubby there to egg on and facilitate picture taking, I sometimes get caught up in the event and forget. Sadly, or happily, depending on how you look at it, this was one of those times. So you get mostly WORD pictures. Those I’m better at.

I love writing conferences! I’ve never been to one in which I’ve not had a wonderful time and walked away enriched by the experience. The very first ever, long awaited Eroticon, which took place Saturday in Bristol, was no exception. It was the first, but I’m sure all of us who attended are hoping it won’t be the last.

I met Ruby Kiddell in Las Vegas at the EAA Conference last September. Little did I know what that event would set in motion, for the lovely, creative Ruby. Six months later, the woman had somehow, almost as if by magic, put together an amazing event in an amazing city, with amazing guest speakers attended by amazing folks who like to write sexy amazing stuff – online or in story.

For me, the event really started on Friday when I hopped the train to Bristol, my head still spinning with the final details of Riding the Ether. I arrived in Bristol early afternoon and took a taxi to the hotel room. The day was sunny and bright and the air was filled with the promise of spring, which was enough to drive me into the streets, as soon as I was settled in the hotel room, to take in the city. I suppose it’s the walking genes, but I’m a firm believer that in order to really know the soul of a place, it has to be explored with soles – one foot at a time.

I walked in the sunshine along the waterfront. A busker played an accordion and gulls called overhead. My first priority was to find Armada House, where Eroticon was to take place the next day. It was an easy ten minute walk, even playing the shutter-snapping tourist. Once I was sure of the route to the venue, I explored College Green with its fountains and Cathedral, and then walked down past Queens Square, where the first blackbird I’d heard for the season seriously sang from a nearby tree. Back at the waterfront, I settled in for a pint and a salad for dinner while I worked on the read-thru for Ether.

The next day, I arrived early in typical KD fashion, never wanting to miss anything. I’d barely gotten in the door before I met the lovely Jilly Boyd, whom I only knew online. Just then Janine Ashbless arrived. What a delight to see her two weekends in a row. She was followed shortly by Kay Jaybee, Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse. When Rebecca Bond showed up, it felt a bit like a reunion from last week. And there was a whole room full of new people to meet and old friends to get reacquainted with.

After Danish and coffee and a chance to network, the day began with panels, classes, and discussions enough to spoil us for choice (link to courses) The only real problem was that it was impossible to be in two places at once.

The first panel was Identity Ethics and Sex Blogging, which was full of thought provoking insights. Though my blog is not a sex blog, most of what was said and discussed on the panel resonated with anyone who writes sex, whether it’s self-help, personal experience, poetry or fiction.

One of the most eye-opening statements came from Zoe Margolis, AKA Girl with a One Track Mind, who said. ‘It’s a sad state of affairs that we can’t be open about sex. Outside this room, people would think what we’re doing is saucy, perverted.’

I was stunned. I write erotica and surround myself with others who also write erotica and people who are comfortable with their own sexuality and allowing others the space to explore theirs. But Zoe’s statement was a powerful reminder of what we’re up against, as bloggers and authors, and what needs to change before sexuality can be embraced and celebrated for the important part of the human experience that it is.

Armada House, home of Eroticon 2012

Scarlett French, who later led a course of her own called, ‘Taking your writing beyond the page,’ asked the thought-provoking question: Do we perpetuate the segmenting and separating of sex from the rest of life by blogging under a pseudonym?

The answer was a resounding yes, but sadly there didn’t seem to be a real solution for the problem.

Zoe then commented about a blogger’s tea party in New York, which was by roughly an equal number of men and women. When asked. The women blogged under a pseudonym because they feared being judged. The men, however, blogged under a pseudonym only because they wanted to keep their private life separate.

I don’t have the time nor space to talk about all the panels and workshops, however, I felt that the first panel set the tone for the rest of the day and was so full of food for thought that it alone would have made the day worth it. Please check the link for more details on the events and for some wonderful posts from the participants. And there were so many fabulous people there. I could name-drop all day.

Another fabulous encounter, for me, happened when my lovely, publisher, Hazel Cushion, from Xcite Books, who was there for the panel of publishers, quietly directed me to the Lovehoney Sex Toys booth to meet the wonderful, Alice Little in her sassy cherry-print frock. Lovehoney sells and promotes my novels, and Alice is a fan of The Initiation of Ms Holly. Lovehoney have been fabulous supporters and seriously good sales rep for my work. It was a pleasure to meet the people behind the lovely toys and equally lovely book sales. Joined by my dear friend and fab author, Kay Jaybee, we talked writing and books and sex toys. Lovehoney were one of the sponsors of the event, and Alice was very happy to talk us through the range that Lovehoney had brought to display. I’ll be placing an order …

We spent a happy few minutes thumbing through the amazing prints of fabulous photographer, John Tisbury, chatting with Jade Whisk about stories the prints sparked for us and the pitfalls of getting published. After that, I split the next session between the Northern Birds, Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse, who were running a workshop on promoting, marketing and blog tours, which was, in typical Felthouse /Blisse fashion, informative, sassy and fun. Then I rushed downstairs to catch the second half of the panel on blogging and the press.

The evening was topped off by a stunning demonstration of spanking by London Faerie and Lori Smith of Bitch Buzz, and a gorgeous burlesque performance. Sadly, for all of us authors, who came prepared to read, there was not enough time for the readings. Too many wonderful events, not enough time.

The day ended with dinner with Maxim Jakubowski, Jacqui Brocker, Josephine Myles, Lily Harlem, Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse. After

Hazel Cushion presents the 2012 Xcite Award to Alice Litte representing Lovehoney, who won the Best Sex Toys Shop award.

burgers and chips and much conversation about – you guessed it – writing and sex, we all headed to our respective hotels. As it turned out Lily Harlem, Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse were staying in the same hotel as I was, and Josephine Miles had an hour to kill before catching her taxi to the train station. AND our hotel had a quiet bar.

Five smutters, a good supply of drinks, alcoholic and otherwise, and as you can imagine, it was filth time! By the end of the evening we had schemed future anthologies, nasty stories, and had filthy discussions of the ones that got away and how glad we were they did. Oh, and did I mention, we talked writing? As fabulous as the event was, what these events do that’s the very best part for me, is give writers, who are by nature, solitary creatures, who seldom come out of their caves unless they HAVE to, a chance to celebrate their craft with other writers. I know, I know, it’s called networking, but that word is so business-like and cold. I’m kind of toying with the word smutworking. When sex writers get together, it’s not so much about what we can do for each other. It’s more about a common experience shared and made somehow deeper and more celebratory for the being shared by a bunch of introverts.

The view across the square to our hotel, where much creative smuttery happened

I had quality time with fabulous people – some who were my heroes before I spent time with them, and many who certainly were AFTER. Gathering for a weekend with other sex writers, whether it’s fiction, non-fiction, or blogging, makes me realize just how important what we do is. Sex writers are at the forefront of the boundary pushing that needs to happen for sexuality to stop being the nasty that’s hush-hush and separate from the rest of the human experience and become the vibrant, integrated celebration and perpetuator of life that it truly is. We’ve got our work cut out for us, but wow, are we in good company!