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Mixing the Spooky With the Sexy by Vanessa de Sade

thingsthatgohump300x200Mixing spooky with sexy…  For me that’s a cocktail so delicious that it often proves quite irresistible and, as an author, it also allows me to indulge in some of my darkest fantasies.

So when the nights begin to get longer and the dark comes early along with foggy evenings and the scents of fires being lit, it’s nice when emails from editors start filtering in with requests for Halloween stories for their October anthologies.

Being a lady of certain years, shall we say, and well past the spring chicken stage of life, I grew up on Hammer re-runs in our local Odeon on Sunday nights, and there was always a certain thrill in the way that old Jimmy Sangster movies used to mix men with hairy chests with large-breasted women in diaphanous nightgowns and copious buckets of blood.  (What can I say, I’m weird and I know it!)

Of course, I’ve always been into weird cinema where they love to put the erotic hand-in-hand with the forces of darkness, and there’s been a big helping of sexiness in the weirdos who slide out from under our beds when the lights go out at night from the silent-era German expressionists onwards.  Just Google Conrad Veidt as the Somnambulist if you’re feeling horny some dark sleepless night, and you’ll see what I mean!  And, oh,  Bela Lugosi’s eyes as Dracula…  Sorry, Robert Pattinson, you’re a beautiful boy but you just don’t have those eyes, oh those eyes…  [Slaps self in face to regain composure.]

Anyway, you get what I’m saying.  Dark and sinister, sexy, it’s a foregone conclusion.  Plus erotic horror gets to be that little bit darker than ordinary work-a-day erotica too!

So, to this end, I thought I’d treat you all to a little excerpt from one of my spine-chillers (though it will –hopefully – effect some other parts of your anatomy too!) – a naughty little piece of surrealism called First Blood that goes off into all sorts of forbidden places.  Here’s the blurb:


First Blood

World War II England. A voluptuous girl is led from her towering iceberg-like mansion while the midnight sky is aflame with the sound of bombs and gunfire. Taken across a gleaming black lake she is left bound, naked, to a tombstone, waiting for whatever is roaming the derelict island cemetery to slake its lust…

“A darkly Gothic tale which skilfully combines the macabre with the erotic, resulting in a ghoulish exploration of taboo sexuality that will make even the coldest blood boil.”

It’s available as part of my two-story collection called Crimson Velvet and I’m pleased to say that my wonderful publishers have several copies of this to give-away.  Just “like” my Erotic Fairy Tales Facebook page

( https://www.facebook.com/eroticfairytales?ref=br_tf  ) and I’ll send you one on!


Here’s a little excerpt for you:

But my hungers, far from being appeased, only became magnified ten-fold from my constant masturbation and I yearned constantly for the touch of another’s flesh, the hot sweet juices of an excited pussy all over my face as my lover buried her tongue deep inside my sopping slit.

And then one morning I discovered my power.

My family had lived on our land for millennia, constantly rebuilding our stately homes as fashion dictated.  We owned the valley in which we abided and the salt water lake that gleamed in front of us.  We owned the hills behind us and the fields in the plain and the wooded slopes and meadows beyond our hills.  More importantly, we owned all the people who lived here and worked for us too, the servants, the farmers, even the officious estate stewards who still exercised my long-dead father’s hunter in the frost-kissed parklands each winter dawn.

Thus when Rose came to my room with my tea that morning I asked her to undress for me.

I was trembling as I spoke the words, fearful and uncertain still of my power, but she simply looked at me from beneath her long lashes and nodded.

“Is there any special way that you would like me to disrobe, Madam?” she asked, a slight tremble to her voice as her fingers toyed with the pearl buttons on her blouse, her little breasts pert beneath the shimmering white silk.

And I knew that I should strip her slowly and savour the moment, like a fine French confection constructed from layer upon fragile layer of spun sugar and filo pastry, peel her garments from her like the petals of a warm artichoke dripping in butter.  And yet I could not.  I was like a starving man before a banquet, a carnivore with the scent of blood in my nostrils, and I just wanted to throw myself upon her and taste the salt of her cunt.

And so I told her to lift her skirt and pull her panties down, and, to my astonishment, she obeyed wordlessly, her fingers tremulous as she drew the stiff black material up, quickly turning it inside-out and pulling it over her heaving little breasts, standing there breathing heavily as my eyes ate her up.

I had expected her to be wearing cami-knickers like my own, loose and silky, but instead she had on a pair of tight snowy white cotton interlock panties, the thin fabric glued to her frame like a second skin with a deep indentation at the crotch, like a camel’s foot.

“Do you want me to pull my pants right down or just flip them over?” she asked.  She should have been wearing stockings but the war had all but stopped the production of nylons and I knew that she was saving the only pair she had left for dinner time, her utility white suspenders hanging nakedly over the bleached cotton of her underpants.

“Turn them inside out and then pull them down to your knees, so that you cannot run away,” I managed to blurt out and she immediately obeyed, denuding herself for me.

At first I thought that she had shaved herself, but then I realised that her cunt was just as hairy as mine except that her silky vixen fur was so fine and blonde that it was almost white, like a snowdrift, her big deep slit like a chasm, all her pink low slung labia clearly visible.

“Am I what you imagined, Madam?” she asked in a low tremulous voice, touching herself.

“How do you know that I imagined?” I countered, eating her up with my eyes and inhaling her scent.

“Because I take your silken undergarments when they are still warm each night and press them to my face and breathe in your desire, and I imagine kissing your hot and hairy cunt and feeling your tongue in mine,” she whispered, then added respectfully, “Madam.”

I was speechless for a second before I managed to gasp, “Come here.”


Vanessa Biog

Vanessa de Sade is a forty-something full-figure gal who likes to write hot stories about real women exploring the darker regions of their own sexuality. She is a regular contributor to anthologies, plus is the author of the solo story collections Black & White Movies; Nude Shots; In the Forests of the Night and Tales from a Tangled Bush.



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Ghostly Encounters by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985)

thingsthatgohump300x200I love a good paranormal, whether it’s about vampires, shapeshifters, succubi or ghosts. I love the variety you can play with – your characters can inhabit completely different worlds with different rules… or they can live alongside humans in our “normal” world, our reality. The latter is what I went with when I wrote Timeless Desire, which in a previous life was called Love Through Time. I recently republished it, as I got the rights back when one of my publishers went under. It’s been rewritten and reedited so is a slightly different tale to the one that went before.

The story encompasses several of my very favourite things… libraries, books, hunky men, stately homes, history, and ghostly encounters. That last one I’ll stick to just in fiction, though.

Timeless Desire is a story with lots of facets—it’s contemporary, but also paranormal. It’s set in modern day, but a big part of the plot harks back to World War II. The main characters just met, and while it’s not instalove, there’s a promise of more to come. Throw in some sections that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I wrote them, and you’ve got a quirky little tale that reviewers have described as “clever” “a wonderful novella filled with suspense, undying love, and drama,” and “a delightful ghost story.”

So, if you like yourself some ghostly encounters and a quirky romance that will pluck at your heartstrings, then check out Timeless Desire.

Happy Reading!

Lucy x



Emily received some strange looks and frowns from the people she passed as she walked across the graveled drive towards the front entrance of Westbury Hall. She could appreciate their confusion. It was closing time for the stately home and the last of the visitors were being politely ushered out of the building, yet she was heading inside. What’s more, she’d been invited. She had a job to do.

An elderly lady stood in the porch smiling and nodding as she held the door open for those departing the property. Most of them seemed in no hurry to leave, stopping to make comments to the woman, thanking her for a lovely visit and so on. Emily waited patiently, allowing the patrons to leave before attempting to get in. When the staff member—most likely a volunteer, Emily thought—caught sight of her, she gave her a polite nod of acknowledgment.

Finally, the last of Westbury Hall’s visitors moved out, leaving Emily free to enter. Climbing the single stone step to the threshold of the front porch, she took the hand that had already been offered to her.

Shaking Emily’s hand with a surprising firmness, the woman said, “You must be Miss Stone.” Her smart appearance and the intelligence in her eyes indicated that despite her advancing age, she was far from past it, “I’m Mrs. Thompson, house supervisor.”

“I am,” replied Emily, dropping her hand back to her side, “but please, call me Emily. It’s lovely to meet you. So, house supervisor? Do you live on site?” Not a volunteer, then, but a paid member of staff.

Indicating Emily should step inside the entrance hall, Mrs. Thompson proceeded to close and lock the porch and front doors of the house, securing them in.

“I do,” the older woman said, turning back to face Emily, “I have rooms in a separate building just off the back of this one. So you needn’t worry about me disturbing you.”

“Oh no,” said Emily, worried she’d inadvertently rubbed Mrs.  Thompson up the wrong way, “I didn’t mean that. I was just curious, that’s all. You’re more than welcome to see me at work, Mrs. Thompson, although I’m afraid you won’t see anything terribly exciting.”

Mrs. Thompson smiled now, the warmth reaching her eyes. Emily almost sagged with relief. She’d yet to see the extent of the work she had to do, but she’d been told it was no easy task, so she could be here for some time. The last thing she needed was to upset any of the staff.

“Oh, you’d be surprised, my dear. This is a fascinating old place. Of course, all these old houses have history, but Westbury Hall’s is particularly rich.”

Emily smiled. The woman’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Well then,” she replied, “I can’t wait to learn more about it. I hope you’ll feed me some historical tidbits throughout the time I’m here?”

Mrs. Thompson gave an enigmatic smile. Then, startling Emily somewhat, she turned smartly on her heel and walked deeper into the house. “Come, my dear, I won’t hold you up any longer. I’ll show you to the library, where you’ll soon start uncovering Westbury’s illustrious history for yourself.”


Timeless DesireBlurb:

Emily arrives at Westbury Hall with a job to do. She’s to clean and conserve all of the books in their impressive library, preserving them for future generations. Not long into her stay at the house, she bumps into the night guard, George. She’d expected an old, balding guy with a comb over, so the hunky chap she actually meets is a very pleasant surprise. The introductions complete, George leaves Emily in peace to get on with her job. But when a falling photograph sets off a chain reaction of ghostly events, Emily and George are thrown together in order to find out who—or what—is causing them. Their investigation uncovers a tragic past, a lost love, and a stunning secret.

PLEASE NOTE: This is a revised and extended of a previously published title, Love Through Time.

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/timeless-desire/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22911436-timeless-desire


Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. 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



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