Tag Archives: novella

Lucy Felthouse Tells the Story Behind Off The Shelf

I’ve had the pleasure of watching this nasty author grow from someone who trembled at the thought of a story of 10K to someone who tackles a novella with gusto and … er … well nastiness. Lucy Felthouse is not only one of my favourite guest authors on this site, but she’s one of my favourite people, full-stop, and a woman of MANY talents. Her fab novella, Off the Shelf,  is in Xcite Book’s new Secret Library series. Please welcome the fabulous Lucy Felthouse to tell as about her super-heated novella, Off the Shelf, from The Secret Library anthology, Silk Stockings. Welcome back, Lucy!

Off the Shelf is my first novella, and as such holds a special place in my heart. It came about when one of the editors from Xcite Books asked if I’d be interested in writing something for a new range of books they were releasing, called The Secret Library. After reading the brief, I decided I was definitely interested, and was determined not to let the required word count put me off. I said yes, then immediately panicked. What was I going to write about? What if the story didn’t have enough backbone to meet the minimum word count? What if my story was boring? What if they hated it?

Thankfully, none of my fears were realised. After thinking about what my story was going to be about, my Muse finally came through for me. In fact, it was the hero of the piece that came into my head first, and when I thought about what his background was, where he worked, and so on, the rest of the story fell into place.

Damien isn’t your typical romance hero. He has long curly hair, glasses, is slim (though certainly not scrawny), and he works in a bookshop. That’s kind of where the idea started for me – I wanted a cute, intelligent guy who worked in a bookshop as a hero. Then, to make it a little different, I decided that he would work in an airport bookshop. From there, other snippets started coming to me. If he was working in an airport, he’d have the potential to meet lots of different people from varying walks of life. So who would wow him?

Enter Annalise. She’s a travel writer and the airport Damien works in is the one she uses when she’s flying somewhere on assignment. She’s been single for a while, and although she hates it, she struggles to meet men because her job is so demanding, and the ones she does meet may be suitable for naughty encounters, but certainly not for anything long term. Annalise wants someone that shares her interests and passions, and who is intelligent. So when she meets Damien, it looks as though her love life is on the up.

The trouble is, Damien is shy, and Annalise is terrified of rejection. And then there’s the fact that Annalise is busy jetting off all over the world. There are plenty of obstacles in their way, but can the pair overcome them and take a chance on what could be a meaningful relationship? There’s only one way to find out… 😉

Once I had the outline to this story drafted out, I loved writing it. I adore both main characters (and I admit, I fancy the pants off Damien) and it was great to get words down and explore their story. There were a couple of occasions where the pair of them deviated from the plan, but I figured it was their story and I should just let them get on with it. And, I’m pleased to say, I’m delighted with the end result. It was a huge learning curve for me in terms of length, as I’m so used to writing short stories, but by the time I got to the end I was relieved to finish, but also delighted with my achievement. This probably sounds crazy to accomplished novelists (such as the lovely lady hosting this very guest blog post) but the whole experience has boosted my confidence in writing longer stories, and I’ll definitely be doing more of it in the not-too-distant future.

And now, since I’ve waffled on enough, I’ll share some of the opening scene of Off the Shelf and hope you’re intrigued enough to add the book to your to be read list, or even place an order for the paperback or eBook edition!

Happy reading!

Excerpt:

Pushing the ‘on’ button, Annalise moved the vibrator down between her parted legs and eased it inside her eager pussy. As the ears of the Rampant Rabbit slid into position on her clit, she groaned with pleasure and rolled her hips, desperate to get more delicious friction. Then she pressed another button on the toy’s control panel to ramp up the power another notch. As much as she’d prefer a slower build-up to her orgasm, she just didn’t have the time. She had to leave for the airport in a couple of hours, and she hadn’t even packed her case. A quick knee-trembler would have to suffice.

As the vibrator buzzed away between her thighs, Annalise closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of anything but the pleasure she was experiencing. After a brief flirtation with the thought that she’d much prefer a hot man between her legs bringing her to orgasm, Annalise simply enjoyed the feeling of her impending climax. The busily-vibrating bunny ears pressed tightly against her sensitive flesh soon had her pussy fluttering. Then, without warning, Annalise was quickly yanked onto her pleasure plateau and immediately pushed off, leaving her writhing and shouting on the bed as a powerful orgasm overtook her body.

Annalise arched her back as waves of pleasure crashed over her, and her cunt clenched and grabbed at the toy buried deep inside. Her swollen clit throbbed, quickly becoming too sensitive for the unrelenting stimulation from the vibrator. Switching it off and pulling out, Annalise dropped the toy onto the mattress by her side and gave a satisfied moan as she rode out the remainder of her climax. Finally, when the twitches and spasms had abated and her heart rate and breathing were almost back to normal, Annalise grabbed the Rabbit and rolled across to the side of her bed where the toy box was kept. She made short but thorough work of cleaning it, then reluctantly put it in its case, popped it into the small bedside cupboard and shut the door.

Annalise hated leaving her favourite toy behind when she went away, but she just wasn’t brave enough to take it with her. She usually only took carry-on luggage, and the very thought of the distinctive shape of the Rampant Rabbit popping up on the screen of the airport scanners made her shudder. It would be bad enough for the staff to see it on their monitors, knowing what it was and giving her knowing looks; imagine what would happen if they decided to check inside her bags! She would want to curl up and die of embarrassment, she just knew it.

No, it was much better off staying here. She could make do with her right hand for a few days. Even better, she might even meet someone. Annalise smiled. She’d had some pretty steamy encounters on her travels. The desk clerk in Dubai, the gym manager in Turkey, the waiter in Corfu…

Annalise shook herself. This wasn’t the time to let her mind wander down that path and get herself all worked up. She had to go and get ready now. There’d be plenty of time for daydreaming later, when she was in long and boring queues, and on the flight.

Blurb:

At 35, travel writer Annalise is fed up with insensitive comments about being left on the shelf. It’s not as if she doesn’t want a man, but her busy career doesn’t leave her much time for relationships. Sexy liaisons with passing acquaintances give Annalise physical satisfaction, but she needs more than that. She wants a man who will satisfy her mind as well as her body. But where will she find someone like that? It seems Annalise may be in luck when a new member of staff starts working in the bookshop at the airport she regularly travels through. Damien appears to tick all the boxes; he’s gorgeous, funny and intelligent, and he shares Annalise’s love of books and travel. The trouble is, Damien’s shy and Annalise is terrified of rejection. Can they overcome their fears and admit their feelings, or are they doomed to remain on the shelf?

More info and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-secret-library-silk-stockings/

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

Jenna Bright Shares the Story Behind The Lord of Summer

Today’s fabulous post from one of the nasty authors of Xcite Book’s new Secret Library series is a taste of British mythology and right up my alley. Please welcome the lovely Jenna Bright with her sizzling story, The Lord of Summer, from The Secret Library anthology, Silk Stockings. Welcome Jenna!

I’ve always been fascinated by the history of the British Isles, but my favourite parts are the ones we can’t ever know the truth of. I love the legends and the stories and the impossible tales. The hidden places, the secret spots, the areas of this country that haven’t changed in hundreds of years. The places where, if you hit them right, you feel like you might have travelled back across the centuries. And even more, I adore the mythical people and creatures from history, the heroes and pagan gods and magical beings. And my very favourite part is imagining how they might fit into our modern world.

That was the starting point for The Lord of Summer, my novella in the Xcite Secret Library Silk Stockings anthology. I’d been reading a lot about The Green Man at the time, about how his face, surrounded by leaves and greenery, shows up in stonework, on churches, in wood all over Britain and further afield. Nobody really agrees on exactly what he meant to the people who put him there, but there are plenty of theories. Was he a god? A sign of spring to come? A nature spirit? Was he Jack in the Green? The Lord of Summer? The Holly King?

Of course, the part that actually stuck in my brain was that he was generally considered a symbol of fertility.

One of the things I love most about the mythology of Great Britain is how it embraces sexuality and seduction as a natural part of the world. Something to be celebrated, rather than repressed. To be enjoyed, appreciated and revered.

I knew I wanted my slightly repressed characters to be sent to the back of beyond, to be stuck, without escape. I needed them somewhere mystic, somewhere where the old rules still applied, somewhere where they’d be forced at admit their hidden fantasies – and enjoy all the benefits that release brings. The rundown Green Man pub, backing onto a mysterious forest with hidden clearings and ancient trees seemed perfect.

I set the story during a (rare) British heatwave, letting the weather and the humidity bring simmering tensions to boiling point. And, obviously, it does have the advantage that it was even easier than normal to persuade my characters to take a walk in the shady woods and strip off their clothes…

I’m so delighted that this story is featured in the very beautiful, and strokeable, Secret Library series, and in such great company, too. I hope you enjoy all the stories!

BLURB:

Banished to the back of beyond, in the middle of a long, hot summer, Gem and Dan Parker find their marriage filling up with secrets. As they work to reopen the Green Man pub, tensions and unacknowledged desires come between them. From their first night, when Gem sees someone watching them make love from the edge of the woods, her fantasies of having two men at once start to grow and consume her.

As the temperature rises, she becomes fixated by her imaginings of an impossible, gorgeous, otherworldly man in the forest. A man who could make her dreams come true – and maybe save her marriage.

EXCERPT:

Gem couldn’t explain it. She’d been keyed up, feeling as if her skin were too sensitive, too eager for touch, ever since they’d arrived at the Green Man. But she could honestly say that right then, with Dan’s question – accusation, maybe – ringing in her ears, sex was the last thing on her mind. Fear, perhaps. Anger; with him for not trusting her, with Mark for putting her in this position in the first place. Even with herself, because she’d known this would happen, eventually. She hadn’t married a stupid man.

She’d been ready to fight back, ready to yell, to distract, to accuse – whatever it took to lead Dan away from the truth. But then …

A carving on the wall; smooth, dark wood, had caught her eye. She’d stared, just for a moment or two, taking in the curve of the face, the laughing eyes surrounded by leaves and stems and flowers. Just like the pub sign.

And when she’d turned back to Dan, the comeback she’d prepared died on her lips and suddenly her blood was beating with want.

She stepped closer, her body swaying with her desire, watching as his eyes darkened. Reaching out, she ran her fingers up his arm, the feel of his skin under hers enough to make her heart race. And her words, when they came, weren’t angry, or defensive, or anything but seductive.

‘You don’t really want to waste time fighting, do you? Not when we’ve got a tradition to uphold.’

That was all it took.

Dan’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her tight against him, crushing her breasts to his chest. He lowered his mouth to hers, and she felt her nipples tightening as his other hand ran up her middle, popping open the buttons of her shirt. ‘I suppose there are some more important things we could be doing,’ he said, and the rasp in his voice made her shiver.

She loved this, loved him. Lived for the feel of his hands on her body, his lips on her neck. How could he think anyone else would ever measure up?

‘Far more important,’ she murmured, leaning her head back to allow him better access to her throat. His kisses burned a line down from her jaw to her breasts, nuzzling her bra out of the way. She gasped as his lips surrounded a nipple, licking and sucking and tugging as she felt herself growing wet and desperate.

Time to regain some control, Gem decided.

Reaching down, she ran her nails up Dan’s thighs, knowing the pressure through the thick denim of his jeans always drove him wild. As she reached the top of his legs, Dan broke away from her breasts and spun her round so her back hit wood. ‘Not yet,’ he said, wrapping his hands over her hips to lift her up onto the polished surface of the bar. ‘I’ve got plans for you.’

Without giving her time to wonder what plans, Dan slid his palms down her thighs, only to push her skirt up around her waist, out of the way. Gem leant back on her hands, eyes half closed in anticipation. She knew what came next, could almost feel his mouth on her already. Even without everything else that was wonderful about him, the things his tongue could do were more than enough to make marriage to Dan blissful.

Head tipped back, Gem’s eyelids fluttered down as Dan ran his tongue along the line of her already soaked underwear. His fingers moved in closer, tugging them down her legs, and she kicked them away. His mouth was instantly back between her thighs, and she felt the hum of his appreciative moan buzz through her. Why had they been fighting again? What could possibly matter except this? Her ponytail hung down along her back, tickling her skin where her shirt had fallen away. Dan had unhooked her bra, she realised, and it hung loose from her arms. She shrugged the rest of the fabric aside, swallowing hard as Dan licked into her. No distractions. She wanted to focus on what her husband was doing to her body.

The tip of his tongue circled around her clit and Gem let out a moan, her head rolling to the side as her body shivered with need. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window at the end of the bar; her breasts, freed from her bra, thrust out into the humid air, and Dan, bent between her legs, her skirt pushed up between them. Gem smiled. She looked … wanton.

Then the light changed, or the air moved, or something else that Gem couldn’t begin to explain. Because she wasn’t looking at herself, any more. She was watching a man, outside the pub, on the bridge, just beyond the window. Watching her.

 BUY LINKS

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Book Depository
Waterstones
Xcite Books

ABOUT JENNA

Jenna Bright writes erotic fiction at her tiny desk in her home near London, and in many coffee shops around the country. She’s a strong advocate for fantastic lingerie, high heels and pencil skirts, and finding the sensual in the everyday.

Born with an over-active imagination, Jenna learnt early to channel her flights of fancy into stories. Later, she discovered a talent for creating sensual worlds filled with sexy scenarios, libidinous lovers and very arousing outcomes. She hopes that you enjoy reading them as much as she enjoys writing them.

Publications:

Silk Stockings – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Silk-Stockings-The-Secret-Library/dp/1908262044/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1334741664&sr=8-1

Fire & Ice – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Fire-and-Ice-ebook/dp/B006OBOOH4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1334741664&sr=8-2

Website: www.jennabright.com

Twitter: @Jenna_Bright

Email: jennabright@virginmedia.com

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B00779O8ZU

 

Constance Munday Tell The Story Behind Silk Stockings

As promised, another fabulous post from the nasty authors of Xcite Book’s new Secret Library series. Today’s nasty author has written the title story of The Secret Library anthology, Silk Stockings. Please welcome the delicious Constance Munday!

I started writing when I was only a child and always loved it.  Books were kind of a staple in our household and I was brought up on a diet of stories.  My earliest memories are of my parents reading to me and as I got older my fanatical reading passion – so writing was bound to happen.  How wonderful to be able to make it a part of my life.  The most rewarding task though, it has to be one of the hardest; a constant juggling act and assault against time and intrusions and sometimes a wrestling match with a tricky idea.  As a writer I think you’re constantly improving and taking criticism and trying to please your loyal band of followers.

There’s been so much going on this year as I finally creep from under my log and start blogging and chatting.  Angels and demons are vying with romance and pleasure in a few scintillating projects which are up and coming and should be out soon.  Look out for me!

Anyway, this post is about an imminent arrival.  Yes, I’m delighted to be part of a wonderful project with such talented and fabulous writing friends.

I loved writing Silk Stockings for this fabulous new novella collection by Accent Press called, ‘The Secret Library,’ and Michael and Imogen were such lovely characters to develop.  My fans will probably find this a bit of a departure from my other work.  For some years now I’ve been writing mainly erotic fiction with most of you knowing me as Alcamia.

However, eventually I’ve come out of the closet under my romantic fiction name of Constance Munday.  This was the result of been pressed over the last year or so to come clean, so to speak – find my voice and tell everyone that yes, I’m both an erotic romantic and fantasy novelist too and I’m proud of it.  I do hope my loyal fan base will enjoy this new me, although don’t worry I’m still writing, pure sizzling hot erotica too and loving it.

Anyway, onto ‘Silk Stockings.’  I was aware before I even got into the story that I wanted to blend a tiny bit of crime into this one to make it exciting and I love setting stories in new and exciting places and playing with periods in history.  This story has a bit of both.  For some reason Berlin really suited my character Imogen and lends the right atmosphere to the tale; a bit dark and edgy and most definitely sexy.

As it is, the story is a hot romantic tale with plenty of spice and a strong emotional element.  Without giving too much away, things are going to get tricky for my sassy heroine Imogen when she meets Michael.  Michael is everything Imogen’s past lovers have not been – rich, successful but also a tender romantic hero.  Rapidly Imogen falls in love but she’s petrified.  For years now she’s been fleeing her demons and protecting a dark secret which is close to her heart.   Now, right when she thinks she’s found true happiness and fallen in love with Michael overnight, a frightening spectre from her past is closing in on her and threatening all she holds dear.  Imogen is being pursued in more ways than one.  Should she flee completely and leave the man she loves or can she reveal to Michael the truth?

BLURB:

When Michael Levenstein meets Imogen, an exotic dancer at a Berlin nightclub, a passionate and intense love story develops.  Michael becomes obsessed by mysterious Imogen and falls into a world of intense sexual fantasy and desire. But Imogen is determined to protect a personal, dark secret at all costs and because of this she has forbidden herself love.With Imogen afraid of committing and afraid of losing what she has fought for so desperately, can Michael break down her barriers and discover a solution to his lover’s deep dark secret, thus freeing the enigmatic Imogen to truly love him

EXCERPT:

Imogen watched Michael for several minutes and before she realised what she was doing, she speared him with her cheeky gaze and raising her glass she invited a toast. It was something she never did and there was a steely determination in her glance, not unlike a whore’s invitation, but in a way she was a whore. She was, as Louis had so quaintly put it, the silk stocking whore – a cocktease in Cervin.

Michael smiled at her. She hazarded a guess he was doing what most men did, he was wondering if she had a boyfriend or if she was a high class whore waiting for a punter since she seemed expectant and her gaze kept continually darting to the door. The truth of the matter was, though, Imogen couldn’t get rid of the irrational fear which seemed to be mounting up inside her day by day, the fear Louis would walk right back in and blackmail her.

After awhile Imogen fished an olive out of her drink and popping it between her lips she dried her finger on her thigh. She didn’t mean to do it, but the action of the finger drew Michael’s attention to the silk stockings. She rubbed her finger up and down suggestively and then she drew several small circles on her thigh before hitching her skirt skilfully up her legs. She didn’t want to tempt him but she couldn’t help it, she liked him. She liked his wide-eyed innocent look and his slim sexy physique and narrow hips. He was American, she’d guessed that immediately because he talked with a bit of a twang like Jake, but Jake had a broad Brooklyn accent and Michael’s accent was soft and husky as if he’d just had sex and rolled out of bed. Even that voice was enough to get her going for some reason. It sent shivers all the way up her spine.

Michael travelled the world in his high powered job as top sales executive in his sister-in-law’s cosmetic firm. He was a rebel like his father and he’d been groomed to walk in Abel Levenstein’s shoes, but when he left law school Michael found, although he had a certain genius just like his father for law, he didn’t want to be a facsimile of a legal Levenstein.

Being a famous Levenstein wasn’t easy and when he dropped the bombshell, Abel didn’t talk to him for six months, but the family were close and a compromise was reached. He now employed his skills to good use in Marta’s employ. He enjoyed selling useful products and he could put his legal skills to good use. Furthermore, he loved the job because he was constantly meeting and able to appraise stunning women, women of incredible and outstanding beauty. He’d been to many exotic countries and he’d shared a bed with a fair quantity of fascinating girls. Girls he had to admit, who were exceedingly enchanting and sexually provocative and sometimes had eclectic and surprising sexual repertoires but whose beautiful flawless looks became in a while just a little bit repetitive. In all those bars, in all those hotels, he’d never seen a dame as exciting as Imogen, the woman in the silk stockings.

Where to find Constance Munday:

I have a website but it will be closing, as my server is shutting down at the end of April and I am at the moment deciding on a new one plus a blog spot.

It is:  www.alcamiapayne.web.officelive.com

Alcamia can be found at  www.total-e-bound.com and of course Xcite books

Were to buy Silk stocking: http://www.xcitebooks.co.uk/home.html

www.thesecretlibrary.co.uk

www.amazon.co.uk

 

Toni Sands Shares the Story Behind Traded Innocence

As promised, another fabulous post from the nasty authors of Xcite Book’s new Secret Library series. Today’s nasty author is in between those sexy velvet covers with me and Elizabeth Coldwell in the Traded Innocence anthology. Please welcome the yummy Toni Sands  here to get sexily historical with the title story from this sizzling anthology, Traded Innocence. Welcome Toni! 

It’s thrilling to have my story snuggling alongside those of KD Grace and Liz Coldwell in the Traded Innocence collection. These are two very talented ladies and I can’t wait to curl up with this trio of novellas.

When Xcite Books asked me to write something for their new imprint, a tingle ran down my spine. The Secret Library is a fabulous, evocative title and when I read the criteria for authors, I knew I must embrace the challenge. Powerful – passionate -provocative: three words to encapsulate an alpha male hero, a feisty heroine to fall for him and a tempting setting. I’d like to explain how my novella emerged.

I’ve written on and off for years but back in the 1990s, began submitting stories. From memory, my first effort was about as effective as a dish of strawberries and cream left out in the rain but I got my act together to write and broadcast two stories for BBC Wiltshire Sound. After I became suddenly single, concentrating upon writing a novel (still in the drawer) helped me hugely. After a move to Wales and several short story successes, I joined a writers’ group and that creativity bug had its way with me at last. I enrolled on a degree course and when the word ‘dissertation’ dropped into the mix I kept seeing smugglers and a heroine who needed rescuing from a scheming male. I’d never written a historical before so for inspiration I took Wales’ awesome Gower Peninsula as background. Research included visiting some alleged smugglers’ coves, of course.

I gained my degree and drifted away from writing ‘nice’ to writing ‘raunchy’ but those characters hung around my hard drive until last year when I knew Rebecca and Jac, my hero and heroine, must seize their moment. Here’s the first sighting of my bad boy smuggler and the lovely young woman who captures his heart …

Excerpt:

On the golden crescent visible at high tide, a horseman cantered towards the headland. An emerald green bandanna tied back glossy black hair from his face. His white shirt ballooned as he rode, muscular thighs gripping the horse’s flanks.

Fingers laced, two young women giggled their way across the dunes above, to scramble into a sandy bowl, sheltered by swaying grass and sea thrift.

‘She’ll never catch us now,’ said Rebecca, fingers raking her copper curls. ‘I won’t let her spoil our fun.’

‘Biddy’s only following your father’s orders,’ said Catrin. ‘He wants you to make a good marriage.’

‘It’s not fair! Marrying me off to someone who’s a hundred years old.’

Catrin frowned. ‘He’s a wealthy lord.’

‘Born back in the last century. You do the sums!

When Rebecca spots Jac, she begins to dream, not just about being in his arms but calculating whether he can save her body and soul from her sleazebag of a bridegroom. She engineers a meeting with Jac …

The weather was changing. There was a distant growl of thunder. Jac gestured to some nearby rocks forming a natural sitting place and Rebecca noticed something that had slipped her attention before. The tip of Jac’s forefinger was missing. Instead of sitting down, she reached for his left hand and took it in hers.

She saw the uncertainty in his eyes and recognised his vulnerability. She felt a torrent of tenderness. He was beautiful, this twenty-one-year-old Irishman. She didn’t care about his chaotic lifestyle. All that mattered was the man. Slowly she raised his hand to her mouth. Her lips closed around the damaged forefinger and she began to suck. Gently and rhythmically her tongue licked Jac’s fingertip.

Blurb:

Sea, sky and smugglers’ coves – paradise for some – despair for beautiful Rebecca. Her father plans to marry her off to a tyrant. Intrigued by a soothsayer’s words, she tumbles at the feet of bad boy Jac, an apprentice smuggler, good with women and horses. Desire burns as powerfully as Rebecca’s determination to rewrite her destiny. Local witch Morwenna is Jac’s ex-lover. Can she be trusted? Midnight at Half Moon Cove sees scavengers and power-hungry barons struggling for supremacy. The lovers must face greater danger before innocence is traded for passion in the sandy cove where they first met.

My website is www.tonisands.co.uk

My Twitter account is https://twitter.com/#!/tonisands

Toni Sands is on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100003739178570

 I very much hope you’ll enjoy reading Traded Innocence and its companions in the just-released collection. Thank you, KD, for inviting me along at this exciting time. Hold out your glass, everyone, and let’s break open the bubbly!

Surrogates, Garden Porn and Inspiration

First of all, let me just do a little happy dance while I tell any of you out there who haven’t already heard me shouting about it (the ones who might have been in internet-deprived Outer Mongolia or just waking up from a coma) My new novella, Surrogates, is out! Rock on, garden porn! … er … should that be compost on, garden porn???

Garden porn! Ah yes, my favourite erotic topic. I’ve talked about the pleasure of getting my hands dirty before, and I’ve even discussed the many innovative uses for veg and garden implements. Surrogates is nothing if not creative with both. For those of you who don’t know what a dibber is, look it up, and I’m sure you can see where I’m heading – gently of course, gently!

My heroine, Francie Carter, is a master gardener who specialises in veg, or kitchen gardens, and she makes her living restoring walled kitchen gardens on large estates. You guessed it, Francie’s garden is a veg gardener’s wet dream come true. It’s a huge plot of postage stamp beds with grass paths in between. It comes with fruit trees, succulent beds of soft fruit, a large, heated, well-equipped greenhouse and  a state of the art staging area. All of that luscious yumminess is shielded and protected by a restored medieval wall. The garden Francie tends, on the estate of her kinky, neurotic lover, Daniel Alexander III, is my dream garden. Bet that comes as no surprise.

While I was writing Surrogates for Mischief Books and fantasising all the hot sex that would take place in the hot gardens, my husband and I were on the waiting list for an allotment. We had been on that waiting list for three long years and counting. Allotments, I figured, are about as close to a walled medieval garden on an opulent estate as I’m ever likely to get. Though, to be honest, after three years of waiting, I was beginning to wonder if my chances might be better with an opulent estate.

Just a week before Surrogates was released, we became the proud holders of a prime piece of allotment real estate, and suddenly our veg growing capacity went from whatever we could squeeze into our small back garden to a plot bigger than the whole property our house is on! Of course, like most allotments, the whole property is fenced in. Okay, it’s not a medieval stone wall, but it’s close enough for me. Though we don’t have a huge greenhouse like the one in which Francie partakes of some seriously hot sex with her two men, we have inherited a little blue garden shed, which I find very inspiring, indeed!

Unlike Francie, I’m no expert. I’m just a hobbyist, a hobbyist whose hobby suddenly got a whole lot more serious. My husband reckons we have about a half an acre! A half an acre, a little blue garden shed, a huge compost heap, and several kinds of mouth-watering soft fruit already planted. Be still my heart! It isn’t just that I’ll finally have space for lots of sweet corn and lots of peas, or that I’ll finally be able to put in that asparagus bed I’ve always dreamed of, but it’s the inspiration of it all. Even stories that are totally free of garden porn bubble up from the deep, filthy, romantic part of my unconscious when my hands are in the earth and I’m growing things to eat. A whole half acre of inspiration! AND a quirky blue garden shed. I shiver with anticipation!

And to celebrate the launch of Surrogates, here’s a steamy excerpt straight from the garden. Enjoy! (Be warned, this one’s a scorcher!)

Blurb:

DANIEL ALEXANDER III takes his marriage vows seriously. Until he gets the balls to ask his wife, BEL, for a divorce, watching each other masturbate is all he can offer his beautiful gardener, FRANCIE CARTER. But when Dan’s friend, SIMON PARIS, agrees to be his surrogate, affairs of the heart get complicated.

Excerpt:

‘Francie? Francie, are you there?’ Dan made his way around behind the jungle of runner beans, getting a shoe full of warm moist soil when he stepped off the path. As the grit infiltrated his dress socks, he would have cursed his clumsiness, but then he saw her on hands and knees, the swell of her hips slightly raised in her efforts to pull stubborn weeds. She didn’t have to do that. She was the head kitchen gardener, a goddess in her domain. He hired underlings to do the weeding, but fuck, he was glad she took the hands-on approach, especially at times like this. She had kicked off the silly blue plastic gardening clogs she always wore, and her bare toes curled into the soft earth as though the very touch of it was an irresistible pleasure. How could soil between toes be so goddamned sexy?

The thin summer skirt she wore barely covered the heart-shaped roundness of her bottom, hugging her and clinging in the heavy summer heat to the delicious juncture where her thighs met. There were clearly no panty lines. She gardened in skirts, like she wanted to expose herself, like the act of planting and digging and cultivating made her a naughty bitch, who couldn’t get enough. But then that was the way he saw her in his fantasies, and oh shit, did he have fantasies about her! His cock jerked with insistence that nearly took his breath away. ‘There you are,’ he breathed, fingers already fumbling at his fly.

‘Go away. I’m busy,’ she said, giving some unfortunate weed an angry tug, an act the made the thin skirt quiver, made the firm muscles of her buttocks beneath clench and release. And his balls surged sending a testosterone buzz clear to the crown of his head.

He ignored the anger in her voice, well he didn’t actually ignore it. Her saucy temper made his cock even harder. ‘It’s all right, darling, you keep on working. Just lift your skirt for me.’ He grunted softly as he released his cock into his hand.

‘Lift it yourself. I said I’m busy.’

‘You know I can’t do that, sweetheart.’

She growled something particularly feral under her breath. He figured it wasn’t fit for polite company, which made him wish all the more that he’d heard it.

‘I’ve got such a load for you. I’ll come all over it if you don’t lift it for me,’ he said.

‘I have other skirts, Daniel.’ She only called him Daniel when she was really angry. ‘Why do I care where you come?’

‘Because you know where I really want to come, darling, and you have to know how badly I want it.’ He moved slightly to one side, not so far that her magnificent bottom wasn’t the centre of his attention, but far enough that, in her peripheral vision, she might catch a glimpse of him stroking his cock. Even if she couldn’t, she knew what he was doing, and he had no intention of being quiet about it. He lifted his balls free from his boxers and groaned at the feel of himself so full, so heavy for her.

She gave another angry yank at the offending weeds, and the resulting squeeze of her buttocks nearly sent him over the edge.

Buy Links:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
Mischief