Tag Archives: Noble Romance

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


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?”


Get involved with Rebecca here:

Twitter: @MissRebeccaBond

Facebook: www.facebook/MissRebeccaBond

Website: www.missrebeccabond.co.uk

Sex in a Holy Place by Lucy Felthouse

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


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

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

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

Here’s a little taster:

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

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

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

“Oh, I have no intention of stopping.”

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

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

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

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


Bite With Height


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

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


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