Category Archives: News

Elemental Fire: Family Photos

IMG00491-20130308-1227Friday morning there was a knock on the door, and a rain-drenched postman delivered a familiar-shaped box. My heart skipped a beat and my feet did a happy-dance. I knew what that box meant. It meant that volume 3 of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire, was now officially out in print and these were my lovely author copies!

I couldn’t resist. The response is always the same. Right after I take them out and fondle them and look through them and admire them, I get all the kids together for some family photos, and here are the end results!

By the way, we’ll be celebrating the launch of Elemental Fire on 20 April at Sh! Women’s Store. Where else would we be celebrating? And it’s going to be quite a celebration, as Kay Jaybee is going to be giving a sneak preview of The Retreat, book two of her BDSM Trilogy. Also, I’m beside myself for this launch party – literally. In addition to being there as K D, I’ll be there as Grace Marshall too, reading from the second book of my Executive Decisions Trilogy, Identity Crisis. It’ll be an evening of fun, filth, fizz, and maybe some really exciting extra surprises as well. I’ll keep you informed as plans unfold. Be sure to mark April 20 on your calendar and come join the fun.

In the meantime, since you’re already here, would you like to take a look at my family album??? Shameless promotion? You betcha!

IMG00494-20130308-1230Blurb:

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

Excerpt:

It was then Tara noticed the exquisite woman with long golden hair sitting so close that her knees practically touched Tara’s ribs. It came as no surprise to her, though surely it should have, but then this was a dream, wasn’t it? The woman’s robe pooled around her and ebbed and flowed like fire.

IMG00497-20130308-1233‘You feel better now, don’t you my darling, Tara?’ She asked. Her voice made Tara feel like she was melting into warm, delicious nothingness and seeping into the cave floor.

Tara nodded and moaned softly, for some reason unable to speak, for some reason just wanting to remain in the presence of this woman, whoever she was. It brushed her consciousness fleetingly that maybe she should be concerned about the strange woman in her dreams, but the thought passed quickly, and she lay quietly next to her.

‘Good,’ the woman said, stroking Tara’s hair away from her forehead. ‘I need you to feel better. All of us need you to feel better. We have work to do, and we cannot do it when you’re mourning your losses.’ She nodded. ‘Yes, of course I know about your Anderson. And I know that you do not fuck the living. Such a foolish girl you are to deny yourself the very pleasure you so willingly offer the dead. Elemental Cottage is not a nunnery, my darling.’ She leaned down low and kissed Tara on the mouth. Her breath smelled like the fells in high summer. Then she tisk-tisked and gently stroked Tara’s pubic curls. ‘You need more than you can manage with your hand, my sweet girl, no matter how gifted you are in the arts of pleasure. You practice sex magic, surely you know this.’ She brushed slender fingers up Tara’s belly and over the mounds of her breasts. Tara arched up into her heated caresses. ‘Shall I bring you just what you need to make you feel better? Would you like that, my dear?’

Tara could only whimper and nod.

Once again she brushed Tara’s lips with hers adding the slightest flick of her tongue, and for an instant, the kiss felt predatory, devouring. Or had Tara only imagined it? ‘Do not worry, my love,’ the woman said as she pulled away. ‘I shall send you just what you need. Wait here, and rest a little.’ Then she disappeared leaving Tara to writhe and moan on the floor of the cave.

From far away someone shook her arm, someone called to her in distressed tones, trying to bring her back to the Waking World. But she didn’t want to go back. It was safe and warm and happy here. There was nothing but sadness in the Waking World. She just wanted to sleep here in the cave and wait for whoever the beautiful woman would bring to her.

IMG00495-20130308-1231But the shaking and jostling continued. She slapped the hand away but it kept coming back to shake her. She was just ready to tell whoever it was to bugger off, when she opened her eyes and looked up to see the outline of a man leaning over her. Even in the darkness, the energy emanating from him was magnetic. Everything inside her tightened with anticipation, and Goddess, she wanted him. Surely she was still dreaming.

‘Are you alright?’ His voice vibrated through her chest and his touch felt electric, full of magic. ‘I thought you were dead, then I heard you moaning. I guess you were dreaming. I was worried and then …’

They both realized at the same time that her shirt was open and so were her trousers, and one hand still rested on her mons. She could feel the man’s gaze taking in the situation, and he twigged. ‘Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought you were — ’

‘I was! Dreaming, I mean.’ She quickly jerked her hand out of her trousers and tugged her open blouse across her bare breasts. ‘I was dreaming, and she said she’d send someone and …’ She blinked hard and looked around at the night sky. She couldn’t have been asleep long, but everything felt unreal, different. Was she still dreaming? Dreams could be so powerful at times, so confusing. She reached up to touch his face and felt a surge of magic — some new, some old. Some very old. Had she enfleshed a ghost because of her horny dream? When she walked at night, ghosts did sometimes follow her onto the fells in hopes that she would enflesh them and allow them to experience for a little while the pleasures afforded the living. And any other time she would happily oblige. But when she walked at night, she always sent them away. This was her place, her alone time. No one was welcome to disturb her here, and most ghosts knew that. Had she been that out of it? Was she that desperate for a fuck that her unconscious had broken her own rules?’

The man sat back on his haunches and looked down at her. In the darkness she could only make out his silhouette dominated by broad shoulders, but it was enough to make her  own arousal spike. Certainly if she had enfleshed him, she couldn’t leave him in the state he was now, no doubt, in because of her.

He gave a little gasp of surprise when she off-balanced him, pulled him down to her and kissed him. ‘You shouldn’t have come here,’ she managed before she drew him into another kiss.

‘I might say the same about you,’ he replied.

Cheeky ghost, she thought, but she kissed him again. This time he returned the favour. And the power surge she felt went clear from her mouth down to the base of her spine and back again. His eyes fluttered, he gasped against her mouth, clearly feeling what she felt, and there was no disguising the press of his heavy erection against the fly of his walking trousers.

‘What the hell was that?’ She gasped, not entirely sure she wasn’t going to come just from their last kiss.

He pulled back from her with a start, one hand against his lips and the other resting low on his belly. ‘If you do that again, I can’t guarantee what will… If you do that again.’

IMG00503-20130310-1516For a tightly stretched second, they froze in each other’s gaze. Then she forced words up through her throat, struggling to breathe through her arousal. ‘I can’t … I need …’

‘Me too,’ He whispered. She couldn’t see the colour of his eyes in the darkness, but his gaze was baking hot against her.

Focus. Damn it, she needed to be able to focus, to think. She forced a deep breath and then they were both speaking at the same time.

‘I’m sorry … I didn’t … I wouldn’t …’

‘I don’t know what just happened,’ he gasped.

‘Me neither,’ she managed.

Then they were on each other. He yanked the clasp from her hair and clawed it free from the ponytail. She curled her fingers in the front of his shirt and pulled him on top of her, down between her open legs, lifting her hips, wrapping her ankles around his waist and thrusting up to meet him. The sounds coming from his throat were deep-chested, wild, and she wasn’t sure where his grunts and growls left off and hers began as he thrust and ground against her, shoving her arse into the soft moss with his efforts.

 

Eroticon 2013: Community, Creativity and Fun

75526_10151629778475561_1361237413_nWriters write in solitude. That’s one of the pleasures as well as one of the hazards of the job. We need other people. We need interaction, but because writers tend to be introverts, extroverted events can be both tremendously exhilarating and totally exhausting. I’m writing this post somewhere in between the two. I’ve been basking in the afterglow of Eroticon 2013 all day, looking at all the lovely tweets and posts, reading the blogs and remembering, and reflecting, and analysing. I’ve nabbed photos from Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse, and I’ve now downloaded my own, which gave me another chance to relive the amazing event. It gave me another opportunity to marvel at the organisational skills of Ruby Kiddell, which absolutely border on genius. It gave me another opportunity to be astounded by Harper Eliot’s ability to hold up under stress with finesse and grace and still pull off a stunning evening of aural sex when things didn’t quite go to plan for the readings! Hats off to both of you! You rock!

481675_10151629778870561_42965464_nAs always, I didn’t get nearly to all of the courses I’d wanted to. That wasn’t just because there were too many delicious offerings happening at once. It was also because there were times when I was torn between attending the courses and continuing with a conversation in the meeting room with someone I knew full well I wouldn’t see again for another year, if not longer. The courses were fabulous. For every one I attended, there were two more I’d like to have attended. Though I have to admit for me, who quake at the very thought of writing a poem, Ashley Lister’s poetry workshop was the highlight. Remittance Girl’s fascinating talk on eroticism and romanticism was also amazing and has given me food for thought for a long time to come.

Teaching a writing workshop for the first time ever, and on the afternoon of the last day, meant that I spent a good part of my weekend trying not to angst too much about how I’d manage to convey what I live with and love passionately to a roomful of people I knew  all had their own passionate love for writing. I needn’t have worried. I was in good company, company that completely understood where I was coming from and were eager to participate. I came away feeling like I’d gained far more than I’d given.

I had the chance to spend a quiet hour talking to, Hazel Cushion, the MD of Xcite Press. I had the chance to finally meet the amazing Suzanne Noble in person. I had a chance to spend time with Janine Ashbless, Kristina Lloyd, and Rachel Kramer Bussel. I chatted with Maxim Jakubowski. I had a chance to finally meet Anonymous Lily. I had my picture taken by the fabulous Mario Cacciottolo for his ‘Someone Once Told Me’ project, while I shared my adventures in Lapovo with him. I know for every person I’ve mentioned I’ve left out six. And every one of them made me feel richer and deeper.

I won’t lie. I came to Eroticon 2013 for the community. That’s what I came for last year and that’s what I’ll come back for next year. And I SO wasn’t disappointed! On Friday night for the ‘pre-game show,’ I had the pleasure of a fabulous ladies night out filled with burlesque at Volupte. I was in the company of Kay Jaybee, Lucy Felthouse, Victoria Blisse, Lily Harlem, Lexie Bay and Tabitha Rayne. At Volupte, we caught up with Delores Deluxe, the fabulous Kittens of the Kitten Club, along with the totally yummy Dave, the Bear. There 481188_10151629777860561_1576819210_nwas dinner and laughing and cocktails and planning and scheming and catching up.

Last year at Eroticon, Lucy Felthouse, Lily Harlem, Victoria Blisse and I spent a late night after Eroticon at the hotel bar dreaming and scheming what became The Seven Deadly Sins anthology, published in December. This year as we all sat in the hotel bar with the welcome addition of Lexie Bay and Tabitha Rayne, Lily surprised us all by producing a scrap of paper from her notebook. It was the same scrap of paper on which we had schemed The Seven Deadly Sins a year ago! I don’t mind saying my heart did a little flutter dance at the thought of the rich well-textured, beautifully vulnerable, outrageously funny moments that had led to those scribbles on that piece of paper.

The depth of the creativity and the sense of community I feel with my old friends in erotica, whom I can never get enough of, and with those that I’ve just met that I feel like I’ve known all of my life still astounds me. There’s a sense of celebration of what the last year has brought about linked to anticipation of what the future holds. It’s all about community for me, about who we all are together and separately, about what we all can offer up to each other and what we all receive in abundance by being a part of something so vibrant and so hope-filled. There’s also a wonderful sense of permission granted, a sense of encouragement offered, a sense of ‘well, go on then. Just go do it. You know you want to, and we all know you can.’

I came away feeling more than myself on the one hand and more deeply myself on the other. I came away anticipating what I’ll create between now and Eroticon 2014 and what we all will create, because looking back at this weekend, how could what comes from it be anything less than stunning?

SHE IS: A fundraiser for Women’s Aid to Promote a Positive, Direct and Inspiring Female Voice

Fuschia Ayling She Is charity benefit poster 1 524602_584897678205656_292324699_n SHE IS: A fundraiser for WOMEN’S AID to promote a positive, direct and inspiring female voice.

She Is is a collaborative exhibition bringing together a group of passionate and creative students from Kingston University and Camberwell College of Arts. The exhibition delves into femininity, looking at topics such as sexuality, therapy, expression and experience, explored through a range of mediums and approaches.

The exhibition will be suitably held on International Women’s Day and will be fundraising for Women’s Aid. As well as exciting visual art the event will also include workshops and spoken word and musical performances.  Involved are lecturer and artist Dagmar I. Glausnitzer-Smith who will be offering a performance “crash explosion” workshop during the daytime. Also appearing will be “Sophia Blackwell” – a self-identified performance poet, cabaret vamp, burlesque wannabe, feminist lesbian warrior princess and Italian pasta-momma and “Volker Renato”- a stand up poet. There will also be an acoustic set by “FRANKENSTAANEE”.

 

 

Fuschia Ayling She Is charity benefit poster 2 307469_584897738205650_1002370270_n

 

 

FREE ADMISSION. Open from 10.00am-9.30pm 8th March and 10.00am-6.00pm 9th March.

For information call: 07773105964

Electric House, 296 Willesden Lane, London, NW2 5HZ.

Contact:

diana@meanwhilespace.com  for information on the venue.

Senior lecturer and artist, Dagmar I. Glausnitzer-Smith, will be collaborating by offering a performance crash explosion workshop during the daytime.

We have spoken word and performances by Sophia Blackwell, a performance poet, cabaret vamp, burlesque wannabe, feminist lesbian warrior princess and Italian pasta-momma. Volker Renato, a stand up poet.

Promoting us will be the Belle Jar Magazine, Sh! Women’s Erotica Emporium, Erotic Author Kd Grace, East End Cabaret, Sue Williams and Everyday Feminism.

Join in with this exceptional event and help in the fight against violence and the exploitation of women across the globe as well as being part of a stand for peace, unity and positivity amongst us all. 

Eroticon 2013 — Writing, Bolgging, Creating and Aural Sex!

Aural Sex at Eroticon 2013If you’ve not got your tickets yet for Eroticon 2013, don’t fret, there’s still time! And with a full two days of workshops, panels and fabulous opportunities to network with some of the most creative minds of the erotica world, you won’t want to miss it! I’m ironing out the final details for my workshop on finessing sex in writing, in which much creative naughtiness shall ensue.  And, wow! What fabulous company I’m in!

After a stimulating day of work-shopping and networking and absorbing so much information and atmosphere, what better way to unwind than relaxing with a nice glass of wine and a bit of Aural Sex! I’m very excited to announce that I’ll be reading along with some of my very favourite erotica writers. Take a look at the line-up! If that doesn’t make you drool, add to it the fabulous burlesque and Cabaret performers Miss Glory Pearl and Miss Maybe and how could it not be an evening to remember! Head on over to The Lock Stock Bar at 8 pm on Saturday the 2nd for lots of aural pleasure!

And now that you’ve checked out the line-up of panels, workshops and events and you’ve got the scoop about all the filthy aural fun planned for Saturday night, all that remains is to make sure you’ve got your ticket!  Come join the fun at Coin Street Conference Center in London March 2-3!

Just a reminder. If you are attending my workshop on Finessing Sex, please bring your writing tools. There’ll be lots of filthy writing involved.

Elemental Fire Now Available!

Lakeland heatwave banner1

One of the best parts of my writing career so far has been the year and a half I’ve spent writing the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy. It both pleases me and leaves me slightly bereft to announce that the final novel of the trilogy, Elemental Fire, is now abailable in eBook formats and will be out 13 March in paperback. Demons and witches and ghosts! Oh My!

The characters have constantly surprised me by leading me on twists and turns in the plot that I would have never expected. They’ve made me love them and hate them and empathise with them and submit to them as they took me on the wild journey from Marie Warren’s voyeuristic encounter on the high fells to Tara Stone’s final and surprising battle with the demon, Deacon in the Dream World.  I’ve loved every minute of the journey, and each time I sat down to spend a little time in the world of the Elemental Coven, I was transported magically back to the Lake District and the fells I love so much. The beautiful Cumbrian landscape has made its mark in my heart, as have the people who live there. There’s truly something wonderful about spending eighteen months  magically transported to my favourite place to be with the Elemental Coven at Elemental Cottage while they live and laugh and love and battle their way to triumph over Deacon.

What can you expect from Elemental Fire?  More demon encounters — some of them hotter than hot. But then demons are drawn to fire. You can expect to learn a great deal more about the Elemental Coven’s fearless leader and high priestess, Tara Stone.  And you’ll meet Kennet Lucian, the stranger who enters her life through a dream and joins her in the Waking World with a very big secret. You can expect to find out what happens to Anderson, and you can expect to find out more about the mysterious succubus Cassandra. You can expect sizzling sex and chilling encouters in dark places. You can expect possession and deception and lies. You can expect love and laughter and commeraderie and preparation for a final battle that is more frightening than any the Elemental Coven has ever experienced. And, if I’ve done my job, you can expect a helluva good read.

Elemental Fire cover image finalBlurb:

Obsessed with revenge, KENNET LUCIAN makes a deal with a demon, a deal he comes to regret when he meets TARA STONE, head of the Elemental Coven, and a powerful witch with a desire for revenge at least as great as his. Even though the attraction between the two is magnetic and the lust combustive, Kennet must betray her to accomplish his goal, which is ultimately her goal as well; to put a final end to the demon, Deacon’s, reign of terror. But can Tara trust the man who has wormed his way into her heart and the heart of the Elemental Coven? Can she trust LUCIA, the demon with whom Kennet is allied, a demon with her own agenda. The path to Deacon’s destruction is far from clear, and the price that must be paid to be free of him forever may be too high, even for Tara Stone.

Excerpt:

The demon, Lucia, studied Kennet for what might have been ages, and he felt as though the pressure of her scrutiny would crush him.

‘I have never worn man flesh.’ She nodded down to his penis.

He blushed and surged and blushed again. His heart raced. ‘Does it make a difference?’

She shrugged, still studying his cock as though she’d never seen one before. ‘Not really. Flesh is flesh.’ On a whim, she reached out and stroked his erection, and he gasped as the touch of her shivered up his spine and blossomed bright inside his head.

She continued to touch him, but her eyes were now locked on his face, and he tried desperately not to thrust against her. ‘I am only touching your cock, Kennet Birch, and it is all you can do to keep from spilling your seed at my feet.’

‘That is the most sensitive part,’ he breathed. ‘Of a man, I mean.’

She moved closer and ran a splayed hand up over his ribs. And he did spill his seed with a desperate gasp as though he could never get enough oxygen again. And he was embarrassed and terrified and angry, and it was as though the whole range of emotions exploded in his head in an instant. Then she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, and for a split second the world flashed before his eyes more vivid, more perfect, more complete than he had ever seen it before. He knew things, he saw things, he felt things, things beyond him. And he would have dropped again to his knees, but he couldn’t, not held in her gaze as he was.

‘I have barely touched you and you are overwhelmed, Kennet Birch. Do you really think you can survive my possession of you?’

Exploring what might be the entrance to Lucia's Cave
Exploring what might be the entrance to Lucia’s Cave

He forced himself to hold her gaze, trembling suddenly as though he were in the grips of some powerful illness. All of him ached, and he knew the real world was bleeding through. There was very little time. ‘I won’t survive if you don’t possess me. My coming to you has guaranteed that.’ He wrapped his arms around himself as the shakes became more violent. ‘You said it yourself, I have nothing to lose.’

‘And why would I want a sick and broken male body?’ She asked. Her eyes blazed in the dance of firelight that always seemed so close to her.

‘If you possess me, you can heal me,’ he said. ‘And anyway, if you possess me and I die, well it really doesn’t matter at this point.’

For an eternal moment she studied him. She studied him until he looked away. His head was fuzzy, his body ached even in the dream world. He couldn’t hold much longer.

Looking out over the Newlands Valley from the top of High Spy
Looking out over the Newlands Valley from the top of High Spy

She lifted his chin once again so that he met her gaze, and the shakes stopped. The pain went away. He felt his head clear.

‘If I do what you ask of me, even though you live, your life is forfeit. You know this?’

‘I know,’ he breathed. ‘It doesn’t matter.

‘You say that now in your hour of need. But when that passes, when you are whole and stronger and healthier than you have ever dreamed possible, when your heart heals and you learn to love again, you won’t be so anxious to let go of what is rightfully mine when the time comes.’

He suddenly felt more pain than he knew existed in the whole world, and none of it was physical. He inhaled breath that felt like shards of stone. ‘I’ll never know love again. I’ll never know life again, so there’s really nothing you can take from me that isn’t already long gone.’

Her gaze softened, and somehow he found that infinitely comforting. Then she moved closer and kissed him, slowly, languidly, as though they had all the time in the world, and his cock was hard again. She stepped back from him. One shrug and the robe of fire fell away, and the glow of her body flashed bright, then dimmed and steadied until he could see details, erect nipples atop high breasts, rounded hips, a golden splash of curls at the juncture of her thighs. ‘I am not like him,’ she said softly. ‘It gives me no pleasure to make those who dwell in the flesh my puppets. You will be, how is it you put it these days, you will be in the driver’s seat.’ She took him into her arms and kissed him hard, and when he feared he would disgrace himself again with his cock pressed up tight against the top of her belly, she pulled away. ‘However,’ she said. ‘If I grant your request, then I will possess you. All of you. You will belong to me, your life will mine.’ She gaze was painfully bright. ‘And if you earnestly wish to be rid of Deacon, then you will do as I say for as long as it takes us to accomplish our task, and it will take time. I know him. You don’t. I’m his equal. You’re not. And one more very important thing, Kennet Birch.’ She stroked his hair gently and whispered against his lips. ‘Never, never forget how badly I can hurt you if you defy me.’ Then she guided his hand down over her pubic curls. ‘If my terms are not acceptable to you, then you must return to your body and face your fate.’

Boldly, brazenly, he slid a finger down low and circled her clit, and her eyes fluttered. ‘If it weren’t acceptable to me, I wouldn’t be here,’ he answered.

Castlerigg Stone Circle near Keswick
Castlerigg Stone Circle near Keswick

She took his hand and guided him back to a chair that appeared from out of nowhere. It looked like a golden throne with no arms. What? Was he to petition her? He didn’t understand. But it was no throne at all. She pushed him down on it and stood before him caressing her breasts until her nipples were stiff and swollen. Then she raised one perfect leg and set her elegant Botticelli foot on his thigh, affording him a view of her wet and fiery depths. ‘I do not enter through your breath, Kennet Birch,’ she said. ‘As sex is your magic, so is it mine. You will go in through me, inside out. And your hunger for me will pull me into you when your libido surges brightest.’

And he was so hungry for her. She filled his head and his body with an aching want that even if he were not a practitioner of sex magic, he would understand was not mundane. And in his case, the fear that he would die if he didn’t have her here and now was a very real one. That he might die even if he did, that her possession might be too much for him, well that was a risk he was more than willing to take.

‘Are you certain this is what you want, Kennet Birch?’ she asked him as she moved onto his lap, positioning herself, opening her sex with her fingers.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’ Even as he said it, he realized how silly that sounded, since either way his life as he’d known it was over.

‘Very well then.’ She settled to the point of contact, to the point at which he could just feel the head of his penis against the resistance of her opening. He reached for her breasts, and with the hand not busy between her legs, she cradled his head and drew him near so he could nurse. The electrical shock through his body caused him to jump and jerk, and at that very instant she settled onto him, sheathing him tightly, deeply, and he knew he was dying. This was the point of no return. It was as though the tight wet pull of her swallowed him whole. Then she cupped his chin and held his face again so he couldn’t look away from her shining eyes. Her voice was like warm honey, thick and sweet, and he felt the sound of it in his very marrow, in his very soul. ‘You are mine, Kennet Birch. No longer are you your own. I possess you, body, soul and life force. Even in name you are now mine, Kennet Lucian. You are mine until I have no further use for you, until I have used you up.’ She gripped him hard and he exploded inside her and the world blew a part into tiny particles and disappeared like flecks of dust in the darkness.

****

‘Bloody Hell! Dr Allen! Doctor Allen! Get over here. Now!’

Kennet inhaled delicious, abundant air as though he’d just remembered how to breathe. Then he fought his way up from under an unruly sheet to sit up on the bed. A woman and a man in hospital scrubs stood either side of him, holding him, and there was chaos and someone was yelling. It took him a second to register that it was him yelling over and over again, ‘Where the hell am I? Where the hell am I?’ And then the bright lights, the gurney with a body shrouded in a sheet next to him all came into focus. ‘Jesus! What the fuck am I doing in the morgue?’

The woman in scrubs standing next to him looked pale and her hands were unsteady. ‘Mr. Birch,’ she said, doing her best to stay calm. ‘You were pronounced dead almost fifteen minutes ago.’