Rebecca Bond Gets Personal About Inspiration

It’s my pleasure to welcome a woman I consider very much a rising star in the world of erotica, one I am quite honoured to know well enough to call my friend. I’m talking about the fabulous Miss Rebecca Bond. Today Rebecca is going to talk about inspiration on a much more personal, much more intimate level before she gives us a steamy excerpt from her latest, Purest Possession. Welcome, Rebecca!

As I sat on my sofa, cosy and safe from the early autumnal winds that thrashed outside my window, I plugged in my headphones and pressed shuffle on my iTunes library. I am a dreamer. Always have been and always will be. Car, train, office, shop, coffee house, bed. . .it doesn’t matter where I am, I am always daydreaming. For me, music plays a prominent role in the formulation of such imaginings. My rock tunes (Steve Tyler, be still my beating heart) allow me to transport myself into a world of beating drums, scruffy Dave Grohl-alikes, and that raw passion for life. The love song allows me to embrace my inner sappiness for a few moments, living out my romantic Cinderella moments, the happily ever after in my mind. The ‘80s pop song has me reliving many a night of drunken debauchery a-la-university style with my fellow students as we danced ourselves silly at Flares or Reflex.

For me, music evokes memories and inspires dreams. So, whilst listening to the ipodular on a gloomy Saturday afternoon, randomly shuffling my way through the 2734 songs, I was completely thrown by a particularly intense reaction to one track that popped up.

Santus – Libera

The previous evening I had been catching up with a buddy (@ParvRoopray) and our conversation had turned to meditation, as it so often does. Due to upbringing, yoga and meditation have a strong place in Parv’s life, but I don’t care for it. I’m sure it’s all fab, but never have I felt the need to limber up, don a unitard, and pretend to be a tree with a group of strangers. Just not me. But, as she often points out, yoga is a complex art and one which is misunderstood (mainly by me) on so many levels. I do however, often feel as if I’m racing through life at a million miles an hour and asked her for advice regarding meditation. She told me not to force it, that it will happen when it needs to.

And happen it did. As I listened to the song I felt a calmness take over and only once the track had finished did I realise that for the entire 3 minutes 41 seconds I had thought about nothing but the orange leaves being blown from a large heavy oak atop a mount in the countryside. I had not set out to think anything of the like, but I enjoyed the daydream about nothing but a tree and its leaves nonetheless. I had mediated. Win!

So, turns out my buddy was right, I can mediate and perhaps need to practice it more often to enable me to maintain my sense of self. What’s fascinating to me is that, although Parv is Sikh and I’m Protestant, the power of meditation enables us both to reconnect with our respective faiths. For those three plus minutes I felt close to God, whom I have been turning my back on of late. It made me remember Rebecca, the eleven year old singing and dancing at church every week as my Dad played guitar in the church choir, Rebecca, the fifteen year old, at the evening service praying for guidance through some particularly turbulent years, and Rebecca, the 23 year old university student, sending silent prayers into the air to a Lord who I begged to help me battle the illness that had already been rife in my mind and body for eleven years. Bulimia.

Most importantly, it made me remember how through those years and the distress they held; my Lord never once turned his back on me. He kept me right there, nudging me forth through my fears when life became scary. So why is it that now, a grown woman, life stable, I have forgotten Him and all He does for me on a daily basis? Three minutes, 41 seconds of listening to a song and thinking about a tree shedding its leaves in the autumn wind has made me realise that although I lead a happy, healthy life, I cannot discount the power that my faith had in getting me to this point in time.

Today I am thankful. I am thankful for the four aspects within this blog post that intertwine with each other on a daily basis and enable me to indulge in everything great in life. I am thankful for the music that provides inspiration for my writing, I am thankful for my writing that acts as the therapy I need to keep the darkness from my mind, I am thankful for the friendships that allow me to be true to myself, encourage my passion to write and live life to the fullest. And finally, I am thankful for my Lord who has blessed my life with the aforementioned.

What are you thankful for?

If all that was a bit intense for you, go and get your filth on by reading some smut ;D

Blurb:

Celestine is an inexperienced peasant girl who, at twenty-two years of age, still knows nothing of life outside the small French town of Chamboise. For years, she has lived in fear of the inhabitants of Château de Délicieux, all too aware of the punishments that are administered at such an establishment.

When Celestine is summoned to the castle by the High Marquise, little does she know that she is about to embark on a journey of delicious discovery and commit the sweetest of sins. This Sapphic tale tells of the emotion one woman feels as she succumbs to a life of sexual possession at the hands of her mistress.

Purest Possession Extract:

As the guard pushed me through the gate and into the courtyard of the castle, the world began to spin, turned upside down in an instant. I rubbed at my eyes, blinking again and again to make sure what I saw really existed. Male servants tended women, scores and scores of women. I felt the rosy blush creep up my neck and settle in my cheeks as I looked on, never before seeing so much naked flesh. Everyone was naked save for a smattering of jewellery, a pearl earring here, and ruby necklace there.

The men wore tattoos, all identical in design and location—a black dagger pointing towards their hearts.

“It’s a symbol,” a voice behind me said, “a symbol that they are members of the Order Délicieux, servicemen to the Ladies of Chamboise.”

I was in a trance. The sight of women being worshipped in ways my mind couldn’t comprehend hypnotised my young eyes. Flesh was caressed, skin was kissed, nipples plucked, pussies fucked.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” the voice said again. A woman.

I felt a hand brush my long hair over my shoulder and begin to slip my rags from my body. I couldn’t protest, my body fixed to the floor, my mind muddled with confusion. I jumped as her fingers grazed against my mound and turned to look at the stranger.

“Yes, I do believe you think it beautiful.” She brought a finger to her lips, slick and glossy. “Your body certainly does.”

I looked at her, gazing at her lips as she sucked my juice from her slender finger. My skin prickled as I watched her tongue snake out to lap away the remaining residue. There I stood, twenty-two years of age, not a girl, not quite a woman.  I was completely devoid of experience. I didn’t know what it was like to be touched in the ways that happened to those all around me.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Why am I here?”

https://www.nobleromance.com/Books?author=194

Get involved with Rebecca here:

Twitter: @MissRebeccaBond

Facebook: www.facebook/MissRebeccaBond

Website: www.missrebeccabond.co.uk

Body Temperature and Rising, the Long Way Around

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One of the Avebury stones on a nice day.

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

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

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

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

Research is hard work

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

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

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

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

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

Blurb:

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

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

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

Excerpt:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

The Holidays with Hearts and Diamonds from Nichelle Gregory

As the holiday season approaches, I’d like to welcome Nichelle Gregory to Hopeful Romantic with a teaser from her latest, Hearts and Diamonds, guaranteed to keep the season extra warm.

Ahhh! The holidays are right around the corner! It’s that time of year when diets go to hell and the drinks and desserts warm you from the inside out! If you can’t tell, I love this season! The decorations, the lights, the music…I adore it all. For me, the holidays are chance to really cherish and enjoy the people in your life that make your world brighter. Yes, we should do this every single day, but it’s easy to forget in the hustle and bustle of the daily grind.

I love spending time decorating my home with my kids, baking sweet treats and sipping pumpkin martinis with my husband when we’re finally alone for the night! These moments are pure magic and I look forward to each one every year.

Hearts & Diamonds, my latest contemporary erotic romance, takes place around the holidays and has plenty of magical moments and sizzling heat to spice up your holiday reading fare! I had a blast interweaving the festive, suspenseful and sexy elements in this tale!Here’s a sneak peek inside Hearts & Diamonds:

Blurb:

Passion sparks the moment Nia Sanders unknowingly meets federal agent Quin Rios.

Nia Sanders knows diamonds. She appreciates and envies the heart-felt emotions of her customers buying them. When federal agent, Quin Rios saves her life in the middle of a violent jewel heist, she finds herself attracted to the sensual possibilities beneath his uber professional, self-contained persona.

Determined to keep her safe as he solves the case, Quin can’t let his attraction to Nia distract him. The heat of their fiery passion consumes them as they both struggle to control their emotions…neither are prepared to lose their heart.

Excerpt:

“I knew you weren’t involved with this mess, the moment I looked into your eyes.”

He hadn’t moved any closer, but Nia felt as if he had touched her.

“Your eyes tell me everything I need to know.” This time he did step closer to her, his gaze riveted on hers. He touched the side of her face with the back of his hand and she closed her eyes.

Her body still thrummed with desire despite the shocking phone call from Tess. She wanted him to wrap his arms back around her and make her stop thinking about the diamonds and mounting fear.

“I should go.”

“No.” Her eyes snapped open and she grabbed his hand. “I don’t want to be here alone.” Wow, she really was going to play the damsel in distress card.

“You won’t be alone. There’s a squad car keeping tabs on your house.”

Nia lifted her chin and looked at him. “I want you to stay with me.” If he could read her eyes as well as he said, then her meaning was clear as crystal. She felt his hand tighten around hers and waited for him to refuse her request.

“Well, we haven’t finished dinner yet.” His lips curved in a teasing, slow smile Nia would’ve gladly given up all the diamonds in the world to see again.

“I’ll warm it up.”

“No need,” Quin said, settling back at the table.

No need, indeed. Her body was heating up on the inside as he dug into her food. She admired the slant of his nose as he talked and the motion of his strong jaw as he chewed. The cadence of his sexy voice, deepening with his subtle accent heightened her arousal like a fine wine. She could simply listen to him talk all day long. Didn’t matter what he talked ab—

“Nia?”

She blinked, heat flooding her cheeks. “What were you saying?”

He gave her the briefest of smiles. Like he knew exactly what she was thinking about.

“I asked you what you wanted Santa to bring you this Christmas.”

A tall, gorgeously bronzed, muscles-for-days, federal agent.
* * * *
Hearts & Diamonds is available now with Total E-Bound!

Buy Link:  http://www.total-e-bound.com/authordetail.asp?A_ID=147

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 senses with one of her simply sexy stories!

Visit her website www.simplysexystories.com and blog http://www.simplysexystories.blogspot.com

 

Erotica: Bathtubs, Bearlesque, and Books!

Prologue (How a simple photo essay evolved into a tome in just a day and a half!)

Breakfast at the Ritz-ette-ish, well you get the idea!

I started what was supposed to be an easy little photo essay on the blurry-eyed morning of Day Three of Erotica with Raymond wandering around in our enormous kitchen making very much-needed coffee. I had planned to blog every day, and my Friday blog had gone out without a hitch and relatively little cursing on my part –

Where all the action is. The Xcite stand.

relatively little, so I was expecting happy trails. Well, there were a few technical hitches along the way, and a bit of name-calling (me to the computer) so you get the end result the day after, much expanded, quickly written, and not at all like I’d intended, but it’s an adventure! And so it was!

Saturday: Erotica, Day Two.

Day two began with a wait for the special tube train that delivers people to the Olympia Convention Centre at

Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, and yours truly showing off our babies at the Xcite stand

regular intervals. It was great to be stood in the brisk morning chill among the folks clad in PVC and leather, gorgeous burlesquish style costumes, leashes, collars, thigh-high boots! It was a people watcher’s paradise, and one in which the people were actually happy to BE watched.

When we arrived, Raymond and I had a quick wander about amid the dungeon furnishings, fake mammaries, corsets, leather, riding crops and scantily clad women piled in a bathtub. (I’ll get back to them later, because we certainly did get back to them later!)  Then there was the gentleman who kept asking if he could polish my boots…

The fabulous Sarah Berry doing...er... lip service...

After a wander about and a quick visit to the Xcite Stand, we were off to the first Xcite event of the day, the Reading Slam, MC’ed by the fabulous Liz Coldwell. Besides yours truly, readers included Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, blogger, Georgia McCrae and for the first time ever, in front of a live audience, Lexie Bay, who acquitted herself very well, indeed! Each of the readings lasted only five minutes, but that made for an hour of sizzling heat. I think it was probably a very good thing that the

Reading a slopy, naughty breakfast with Tino

room was cold when we arrived. And the chairs must have been really uncomfortable because there was a lot of shifting around in them as the readings progressed. I certainly found the room seemed hotter and hotter as the hour progressed.

There were lots of photo ops, and we advantage! Of course there had to be the traditional photo in front of the Erotica Wall. I am sure that will become a tradition. Kay Jaybee and I had our picture taken a year ago standing there together at our first ever Erotica, and now we were back. What a difference a year makes! Now our circle of fab writing friends had expanded, so we took our photo op in front of the wall, Lucy Felthouse, Lexie Bay, Rebecca Bond, Kay Jaybee and me. There are lots of others we wish could have joined us there. But next year’s coming!

Up against the Wall. Lucy Felthouse, Lexie Bay, Rebecca Bond, Victoria Blisse, K D Grace, Kay Jaybee

We managed a quick lunch in the food court, With the Blisses, the Bays, Lucy Felthouse and her lovely Ian, Kay Jaybee and the lovely Rebecca Bond. I’m not sure what I ate. I was too busy watching. PVC was in abundance as were well displayed breasts, males in very tiny underwear only, people on leashes and even a few people in diapers. Oh yes, Erotica is a people watching paradise. It’s nice to be able to blatantly stare and have people only look at you and smile — sometimes politely, sometimes wolfishly. But all in good fun.

Kay Jaybee and me

Surrounded by smutters, as I was, I could almost hear the wheels of creativity turning in their lovely heads, as they were in my own. I have no doubt there will be stories.

After a nibble and a good look-see, we headed off to the panel, chaired by Jane Wenham-Jones. The panel included Kay Jaybee, Lucy Felthouse, Victoria Bliss and Kitti Bernetti, all Xcite writers extraordinaire. Jane asked fantastic questions about what it’s like to be an erotic author, and there was good participation from the audience as well – many of whom followed us over to the Xcite stand afterward where lots of books were sold and signed by the authors.

By seven, the crowd was beginning to dissipate from

On the Xcite stand busy selling books

around the stand, and it came to the part I hate most, saying good-bye to all of my smutter friends who I only get to see on occasions like Erotica. I adore Facebook, Twitter and email mostly because it keeps me in touch with these fabulous, talented ladies and their wonderfully supportive other halfs (halves??).

Me at the Wall! When all the good-byes were said and the Xcite stand was shut up for the night, Hazel Cushion, Xcite’s fearless leader, invited Raymond and me to join her, the adorable Matt Peterson, who does internet marketing for Xcite, Peter Newsom, Accent Press’s amazing sales director and his lovely wife, Sheilah and the fabulous Jane Wenham-Jones for dinner. It didn’t seem at all strange sitting in Pizza Express putting away masses of wine, pizza and nibbles, talking about sex, erotica and writing erotica and… well sex… when the people at the neighbouring tables were dressed in cat suits, devil tails and horns and crotch-high boots. Fabulously interesting company we keep! The folks at our table might have all looked rather ordinary, but that just goes to show looks can be deceiving.

Afterwards, back in our tiny mansion, we did manage to get pictures downloaded before total collapse into sleep-deprived oblivion.

Sunday: Erotica, Day 3

Madame Grumpy Bear got a whole lot happier after long-suffering hubby brought her a second cup of coffee. Techno-problems

Couldn't resist the tail shot. No! NOT an Xcite author!

brought on by lack of sleep a sudden, but not unusual outbreak of techno-duncism meant that my grandiose plans of a blog post every day of Erotica wasn’t going to happen. A little pout, a hot shower, a bit of slap (that’s slang for make-up… not spanking…) and the scary beast became tame enough to take out into public. Raymond is good with scary beasts.

The panel. Liz Coldwell, Maxim Jakubowski, Jane Wenham-Jones, Toni Sands, K D Grace

The day started out a little quieter. No doubt everyone was having a Sunday lie-in before donning the nosebleed stilettos and corsets and heading on over to Erotica. It gave Raymond and me a chance to look around before the panel started. We caught a performance by the Dream Boys in the gallery, and browsed through some of the fabulous erotic art, which was also displayed in the gallery.

Then it was time for the panel. Today was my day. I was on the panel with Liz Coldwell, Toni Sands and Maxim Jakubowski. Again, the vivacious Jane Wenham-Jones chaired the panel, and there was a lively

The Dream Boys play with fire

discussion, albeit a smaller audience than the day before, about the quality of internet erotica as opposed to print erotica, what made good erotica and what inspired us to write. Afterwards we all went back at the stand to sign books and answer questions.

Looking down from the Gallery

There were more readings in the afternoon, and when we were finished it was back to the stand for more signings and chats with customers. This was prime time. The books were practically flying out of the spinners. It was exciting to sign books and even on the odd occasion, have the person buying Holly or Pets – sometime both, want a photo op with the author. Good for the ego? You betcha!

When there was a bit of a lull in the book selling action, we slipped across to the main stage to watch Dance Seduction, and all I can say is wow! Sex on the dance floor. Exquisitely beautiful and hotter than hot, especially the fabulous, heart-stopping m/m dance next to the finale. It was not only hot, sexy and gorgeous, but deeply moving as well.

And there were other fabulous stars out and about too. I think one of the highlights of my evening was when

Kittens prrrrrfrrrr 'The Pet Shop'

Delores Deluxe stopped by the stand, saw Pets on the spinner and said to Dave, the Cub (more about the fabulous Dave in a bit) who was with her, ‘Oh I know her.’ Raymond happened to overhear and grabbed me. OMG! Delores Deluxe, burlesque goddess extraordinaire remembered mio! She and Dave invited us the LGBT stage in the gallery – the first year for an LGBT stage at Erotica, actually, but it definitely won’t be the last – for the performance, in which we get to see Dave’s arse. Well, I’m not one to turn down a chance to look at a great arse, am I? It was the last performance of the evening on the LGBT stage, and we were not about to miss it.

Dave, the Cub, in the chair that doesn't have Raymond in it;)

We had a bit of time before the performance, so we decided to go back and check out the hot chicks romping in the bathtub that I’d mentioned earlier. We’d only just made the connection that these lovelies and the whole exquisite set-up were a part of The House of Burlesque (we’re a little slow at times) I’m absolutely sure the highlight of Raymond’s evening was meeting the burlesque beauties, who very kindly did the honours of allowing us to photograph them reading ‘The Pet Shop,’ in and around their lovely claw foot bathtub. It was… well, best you just check out the piccies!

If the highlight of Raymond’s evening was photographing the lovelies from the House of Burlesque, the highlight of mine had to be when mid-song and dance, the very well-built, very delicious, scantily clad Dave the Cub came and sat right down on Raymond’s lap while belting it out. Sadly it all happened way too fast for me to get a photo, but it definitely is permanently stamped in my memory. The look on Raymond’s face — priceless! The show on the LGBT stage was one of the most fun parts of the weekend for us. The amazing combo of burlesque, bearlesque, and bawdy, yummy performances by Fancy Chance and Tranny Shack was high energy, outrageous and just flat out fun, all MCed by the fabulous Tempest Rose. We definitely returned to the Xcite stand with smiles on our faces.

By that time most of the people had gone; things were winding down. We said our good-byes to the Xcite folks, happy to see

Blatant self-promotion? You betcha! (with the help of the lovelies from The House of Burlesque)

very few copies of Holly or Pets remaining behind. Hazel assured us that she had already booked the spot for next year and planning and scheming was in the works. Then we caught the tube back to Waterloo and the train on home.

It was only when I got home, as is appropriate, that I got the cherry on the delicious Erotica cake, and it was in the form of this fabulous interview of Hazel by the folks at Erotica.The muchly appreciated shout-out for me starts at about 3:45.  My feet haven’t touched the ground since.

I feel like I’ve come away from this weekend having reconnected with old friends and celebrating with them their successes, while sharing and scheming our future projects and sharing what erotica is to us and what writing the story is to us. I feel that I’ve also come away from this weekend having made new friends and new connections, which is always an expansive, heady experience. As I think back to last year when Kay Jaybee and I spent a few happy hours at Erotica on a Saturday afternoon, I have to say it again. What a difference a year makes!

My Pets, misbehavin in very delicious company! (Thank you, House of Burlesque lovelies)

 

Erotica, AND a Launch and Reading at Sh! Great Start to the Weekend!

The 'kitchen' is behind the door next to the closet.

I’m writing this blog from our tiny closet of a hotel room, which is posing as an apartment, and since I’m planning to keep you all abreast of the fabulous fun in London Erotica this weekend, the best way I could think of is photo updates. Easy for me and hopefully fun for you.  Upon my arrival in London, I dropped of my bag at our palatial apartment/hotel room, and I know how much we all like to take a peek at where everyone is staying, so here’s the grand tour…. …That’s about it.

Erotica in the Afternoon

After I familiarized myself with my digs it was off to Erotica and to the Xcite Stand, where the books were leaping off the shelf, and I had

Hazel Cushion and Peter Newsom, the Super Woman and Wonder Man of the Xcite team

my trusty signing pens handy, along with my camera. Met some fabulous new folks and some old friends as well.

The Pets and me
Even thought Santa(Known to some as Peter Birch, and other pseudonyms) knows I'm a naughty girl, he still read me a story.
The Xcite team The two Peters on the outside, the indominable Hazel and Matt the Techno Wizard. All smiling as the books keep on selling!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sh! In the Evening

After signing and Santa and fun at Erotica with the Xcite folks, I hopped the District Line at Rush Hour and made my way across to Sh! in Hoxton for the fantastic Victoria Blisse launch Of her book, Tempting Rendezvous, along with Lucy Felthouse reading titillating smut from the ever-growing Felthouse collection.

Lucy Felthouse reading about a hot mermaid

Lucy Felthouse, Seducing the Myth:

The path forked, the left turning being the one which would lead me down by the water. I took it. The closer I drew to the mere, the more another part of me wished I wasn’t alone. The quiet was uncanny, as was the absence of any wildlife. You’d normally expect to find midges, dragonflies, and the birds that ate them around most bodies of water. There was nothing, which was strange enough. Stranger still was that despite its exposed location and the slight breeze in the air, the pool’s surface remained undisturbed. I wish I could have said the same for my state of mind.

Victoria Blisse reading from steamy Rendezvous

 

Victoria Blisse, Tempting Rendevous:

“So Lucy’s with your mum, huh?” He asks.

“Yeah, she is. She’s staying overnight and will be home tomorrow.”

“I bet you miss her.”

“Yes and no,” I reply as I slip my arm into the crook of his as his hand is buried deep in his pocket. I shiver as I think about our bodies joining and get a very vivid flash of our naked bodies thrusting against each other, our lips locked, our arms entangled. I shake my head and continue, “I miss her but it is nice to have some time to myself for a change you know?”

“Well, I can leave if you like,” He huffs with fake affront and I slap his arm playfully.

“Oh, hush, you know what I mean. It will be good to be by myself with you. That’s not very good English is it?”

“No but then I ain’t one to pick up on grammar and such. I get picked up on my Americanisms so often, I give others a break.”

“You can’t help that you speak funny,” I reply with a twinkle in my eye, “they all do over there.”

“Y’all speak a completely different language to me that’s for sure,” he chuckles, the rumble running through his body and into mine, making me vibrate pleasurably.

I love walking like this, so close to him. I love the way he rubs against me, the way I can feel his body heat. I love the feel of his arm as I grasp it and again I think of grasping hold of Joe and bracing myself as he plunges inside me with that throbbing cock.

Damn, I’m horny, so fucking horny I want to just push him up against the door and fuck him here on my doorstep.

 

 

 

 

The fabulous Sh! Muses! We love you, Ladiez!

Sh! is becoming a mecca of erotic literary readings and happenings in London. I asked Sh! manager, Renee Denyer how did this come about, and how does sh think the readings, as well as the lovely selection of erotic books Sh! has available benefits Sh! customers and benefits healthy sexuality in general.

Renee: Well, we like to think we have the finest selection of erotica for women in the whole of UK; and bearing in mind that the UK also has some of the finest authors of erotica, it’s easy to see how it all came about. It started with Rachel Kramer Bussel, the US Doyenne of Hot Erotica. She stopped by our Hoxton shop one rainy afternoon about 3 years ago, and asked if she could do a reading next time she was in London. Being a huge fan of hers, I said *yes*! Then I just had to look into how an erotic book reading happens, as I had never been to one… *blush*. It took off from there, and we now host regular readings and erotica book launches, and our customers love it. They get to meet the authors, have their books signed, and hear the stories read out in the authors own voice, which is damn hot! It’s very empowering, I think; it allows women to feel that it’s ok to have fantasies, and to enjoy them.
The lovely Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse with their fabulous books!
It was fun at Sh!, as always, and at the end of the night, after dinner with the Blisses, and Lucy and Ian, it was back to the palatial apartments for a good rest before we all descent on Erotica for Saturday’s readings, panel and my Xcite’s launch for Pets.
More as it happens today, and throughout the weekend.  And I’ll add more links when I’m not rushing out the door.