Tag Archives: The Secret Library

Shanna Germain Shares The Story Behind the Story of Her Novella, Safe Haven

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The Story Behind The Story

It’s my pleasure to welcome Shanna Germain to a Hopeful Romantic to talk about her fabulous novella, Safe Haven, which is in Xcite’s One Long Hot Summer anthology. Another one of the lovely Secret Library volumes.

 

The idea behind Safe Haven was one I’d been thinking about for a long time, but just hadn’t found the time and impetus for. I grew up on a farm where we were always rescuing animals – or having rescue animals brought to us – and that seemed like the perfect backdrop for two people to meet and fall in lust and love. And it also seemed like the kind of woman who ran a rescue farm would be the kind of woman who was a perfect heroine. She’d have to be strong and independent, but also big-hearted and determined. Of course, I also wanted to give a huge helping of unmet lust, just to make sure things really sparked.

When The Secret Library said they were looking for novellas with strong women and hot men, I just knew that it was time to find the characters to populate the steamy idea I’d been carrying around.

I found the perfect image of Kallie right away – a natural beauty with intense eyes who loved animals and had this crazy, world-changing laugh and smile. Gauntlet – the puppy who features predominantly in the story – was also easy to find. I knew he needed to have one white paw and those big puppy eyes that just melt your heart.

It took me much longer to conceptualize Darrin, the alpha male hero type. Most of the guys I write don’t really fit that mold; I like to create characters that are a little bit broken, often a little socially awkward, but who really do it for the right partner. So I wanted to find a way to combine the two elements – a man who was clearly an alpha male in one situation, but who was really soft and vulnerable in another. When I found an image of a dark-haired, charismatic man holding a camera, I realized that was the key to Darrin’s character. Behind the camera, he could be the strong silent type. In front of it, he could be something else entirely. And sexually? Sexually, he could be the kind of man who was happy to take control, and just as happy to give it up—to the right woman.

There were sparks from the first meeting (as you can read below), but by the end, things got even hotter—and sweeter—than I expected. I always love when that happens.

One Long Hot SummerExcerpt

It wasn’t one of the Eric’s hired hands. And it wasn’t, at least as far as Kallie could tell, a new rescue animal. And if it was fresh hell, it was incredibly sexy fresh hell in jeans and black boots. A fresh hell of a tall, curly haired man pushing a motorcycle up her gravel drive. As he walked, the horses were following him, keeping as close to the fence line as they could, tossing their heads and snorting at him.

A second later, she realised they weren’t snorting at the man. They were snorting at the wriggling bundle of fur that was bounding up the driveway after him. Great. So it was a random drop off. She wanted to stop them right there and tell them that Safe Haven was full. She didn’t have time or room for any more strays. Not even cute strays. Especially not cute strays. She had enough trouble on her hands.

But her voice, which had so recently been crooning at a huge horse, now seemed stuck in her throat.

‘Hey there!’ the man called as he got closer. He raised one hand off the motorcycle in something like a wave. He wore a thick silver ring on his middle finger, and her eyes were drawn first to its glint, and then to his long fingers and strong wrists, then to the length of his bare arm, the lightly tanned bicep that was offset by the blue fabric of his T-shirt. ‘Are you Kallie?’

She started to say no, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good; someone had obviously sent him, even though everyone knew Safe Haven didn’t rescue dogs or cats, and it definitely didn’t rescue beautiful, curly haired men with motorcycles and fantastic smiles. But she started to deny her birth name anyway, because this was trouble walking up her driveway. She could feel it. Even the horses could feel it.

Then he lifted up his sunglasses, pushing them up on his head and any words she might have said completely disappeared.

He had blue eyes. Not just blue eyes, but poppy-blue eyes. Fall-into-a-dream blue eyes. Sky on the first day of summer blue. Almost surreal in their bright gaze, surrounded by small wrinkles as he gazed at her. She heard her own sharp intake of breath and felt stupid for its sound in the mostly quiet day.

‘Kallie, right?’ he asked.

She nodded. Look away from his eyes, she thought. Just … look anywhere else. But she couldn’t. They were so blue, threaded with silver that shone funny in the sunlight.

‘Oh, good,’ he said. He looked away – she was so grateful for being released from his gaze that she could hear her heart thumping in her chest – and kicked his bike stand to settle it on the gravel. Then, he bent down and picked up the wriggling bundle of fur that had been stalking his boot laces.

In contrast to the man’s intense blue eyes, the puppy’s curious brown gaze was a hundred times easier to take. His tongue lolling to the side, he settled into the man’s arms and gave a happy yip. The puppy licked his fingers, and the man gave a quick, delighted laugh.

Kallie’s heart did something funny in her chest. She stuck her hand in her pocket, realised she still had half a carrot in there, and pulled her hand out quickly, trying to wipe the wet off on her jeans without being obvious.

The man didn’t seem to notice her movements. He reached for the puppy’s single white paw and made it move up and down in the semblance of a wave.

‘Hi, I’m Gauntlet,’ the man said, his voice a growled approximation of a puppy voice. Kallie choked back laughter, and ended up just coughing in the process.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Fine,’ she said after a moment, although she clearly wasn’t. She was the world’s biggest dork. She cleared her throat, and finally found her voice. ‘But … Gauntlet?’

The man looked at the puppy in his arms as though he’d just seen him for the first time. Then the man smiled. Dimples. Wrinkles. Oh sweet heaven. She was in so much trouble. She thought her libido had dried up after Erik left – an event her friend Stephanie called the Double B, “the Big Breakup” – but clearly that wasn’t true. Go back to the barn, girl. Now. Before you get yourself in more trouble.

*****

Shanna Germain claims the titles of writer, editor, leximaven, wanderluster, vorpal blonde, Schrodinger’s brat, knife licker, flower picker and tire kicker. Her poems  essays, short stories, novellas, articles and more have found homes in places like Absinthe Literary Review, Best American Erotica, Best Gay Romance, Best Lesbian Erotica, Blood Fruit: Queer Horror, Pank, Storyglossia and more. Visit her at www.shannagermain.com

BUY One Long Hot Summer: http://thesecretlibrary.co.uk/?page_id=8757

Penelope Friday Tells the Story Behind the Story of Her Novella, Just Another Lady

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The Story Behind The Story

The fabulous Penelope Friday is joining us today to tell us the Story Behind her hot regency offering, Just Another Lady, her novella from  the Secret Library anthology, One Long Hot Summer. Welcome, Penelope.

 

So, when you’re writing a story, you start at the beginning and move through the middle until you reach the end, right?

Um…

That would probably be a sensible way to do it. In fact, I know a lot of writers who write that way. But I’m not one of them. I mean, what am I supposed to do when I don’t actually know what happens next? Wait around hoping for inspiration to strike? Tidy the house? (Actually, that would probably make for a considerably more tidy house than I currently live in!)

Instead, I write another bit of the story. A bit which I do know. And then, when I run out of inspiration for that bit, I write another bit. And another. And another. And then… well, I suppose I ‘join the dots’. Because now that I know that – say – my heroine is going to meet her hero for the first time in chapter 1, but that they’re actually a couple by chapter 3, it’s easier to work out what happened in between.

Okay, I know that sounds odd. The scary thing is how long I’ve been writing in this way, though. When I was at school, I had a tendency to approach essays in the same manner – writing the bits I knew and then joining them up. In those pre-computer times, I had to ‘guess’ how much space I would need on pieces of paper, which was sometimes interesting: I ended up with quite a few essays which had little stars on the paper and another paragraph on a separate sheet which belonged in the starred place. Believe it or not, I was actually reasonably academic and ended up with decent marks, unusual methods notwithstanding 🙂

More surprisingly still, the ‘joins’ don’t seem to show too much in my stories, either. I would challenge anyone to spot the places where my sections have been joined: as I sometimes get inspiration for bits of conversation, the join may come part way through a scene, not just at the beginning of a chapter! If you think you spot one, feel free to email me – penfriday@gmail.com – and I promise to tell you truthfully if you’re right…

One Long Hot SummerBlurb

Regency lady Elinor has fallen on hard times. The death of her father and the entail of their house put Elinor and her mother in difficulty; and her mother’s illness has brought doctor’s bills that they cannot pay. Lucius Crozier was Elinor’s childhood friend and adversary; and there has always been a spark of attraction between the pair. Now renowned as a womaniser, he offers a marriage of convenience (for him!) in return for the payment of Elinor’s mother’s medical bills. Reluctantly, she agrees. But Lucius has made enemies of other gentlemen of the upper echelon by playing fast and loose with their mistresses, and one man is determined to take his revenge through Lucius’s new wife …

Excerpt

The feel of Lucius’s fingers running down her spine made Elinor want to shiver. Even though she was protected by layers of clothing, the knowledge that he was stripping her – that shortly she would be naked in his company – made every touch tingle with what Elinor had to acknowledge to herself was excitement as much as embarrassment. As he unfastened the final button, she wriggled impatiently and the dress fell in a pool at her feet. The petticoat she could divest herself; the corset, however, needed Lucius’s aid to remove. Elinor could feel his breath warm against her neck as he teasingly took his time to undo the strings. When at last it expanded around her, Elinor took what felt like the first decent breath since that morning, almost moaning her relief.

‘You looked beautiful in it,’ her husband (her husband!) murmured in her ear, ‘but even more so out of it.’

He pushed it off her shoulders, so that she stood dressed only in the light cotton shift in front of him. As he turned her to face him, Elinor was suddenly made all too aware of her semi-nude state compared to Lucius’s full dress. She could feel her nipples peaking against the cloth, almost begging for Lucius’s touch.

Penelope Friday – http://penelopefriday.jigsy.com; http://penelopefriday.livejournal.com

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The Secret Library Blog Tour: Constance Munday

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It’s my pleasure to welcome Constance Munday back to my site, here today on Xcite’s fabulous Secret Library blog tour. Welcome back, Constance! 

I loved writing Silk Stockings and was delighted it headed this fabulous little book of novellas by such talented authors.

It was a seed of a short story at first but I was thrilled to have the opportunity to develop it and I soon fell in love with my characters Imogen and Michael.  If possible I like to set my stories in different settings to make for a bit of interest and there was just something about Imogen and Berlin in the post-war years which really appealed.

Silk Stockings is not your average erotic story.  Yes, it’s very hot but it’s also a love story set against the odds.  I don’t want to give too much away but Imogen is caught in an impossible situation.  Scared and fleeing her dark past she has forbidden herself love until that is, she bumps into handsome American Michael Levenstein in a bar.

Michael seduced by seductive burlesque dancer Imogen, rapidly falls in love and will soon have to use his skills as a lawyer to save her.  As the heat grows and the two of them realise they’re in love can Imogen find the courage to tell Michael her dark secret, the one she holds closest to her heart or will she once again have to flee into hiding and deny herself love?  I hope you enjoy reading ‘Silk Stockings’ and just to whet your appetite there’s a little excerpt below.

Excerpt

Silk StockingsMichael returned to his stool at the other end of the bar and then thinking for a moment he dragged it closer to hers until he was almost within touching distance. Of course, it was essential he got closer so he could look at the silk stockings, which were gleaming enticingly in the dim light of the bar and which Imogen had now boldly crossed.

It wasn’t unusual to see a woman in stockings – but there was something about the way she wore them. It was as if she was made to wear a pair of hose in the way some girls are made to wear gloves or pearls. There was no doubt the silk stockings and the woman were a uniquely erotic combination and no other woman on the planet could carry off such a stunning partnership.

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.

*****

Constance MundayConstance first started writing and winning prizes when she was a child.  However, after taking a degree in economics and languages she was pressed into work first as a court room reporter and later translator and tutor.  An ardent book worm, books and writing were never far from her mind and in her spare time she wrote several novels just for fun.  It was only after a serious accident though and long periods spent in bed, that she turned to writing seriously and after accumulating loads of work was eventually convinced by a friend to send her first story in for submission.

She returned to university to study English and shortly afterwards when personal tragedy struck, she realised how short life was and that she had to follow her dream of becoming a writer.  Since then she has never looked back.  When asked about her writing she will say it’s more than just story telling.  ‘It’s a therapy, a constant challenge and a journey.’

Her move into erotica started in late 2007 when again a friend persuaded her to be brave.  She’d always loved hot passion and found a missing link when she started adding a pinch of heat to her stories and exploring other avenues.  She likes her stories to be fresh and new and always listens to the words of her fans, welcoming emails from her loyal little band.

Published first in Scarlet magazine, she rapidly moved on and writing under several names including Alcamia Payne for her erotica, has now had short stories published in over thirty anthologies; written novellas and novels and has recently had her story ‘Tango’ featured in ‘Diva’ magazine.

She’s delighted to be part of the beautiful ‘Secret Library’ collection, rubbing shoulders with a plethora of wonderful and talented writers and her next novel ‘Chickadee,’ a hot, sexy historical is out with ‘Ebound’ publishing in June.  Chickadee was the result of an intense interest in history and is set at the time of the Great Exhibition.

There’s loads in the pipeline and excitement abounds as she works on a three novel collection set in the world of mystery and magic.  She’s keen to point out though that she’ll never stop writing short stories as she just loves them.

Constance rates herself as a very ordinary girl with a hot melting centre who would have liked to be alive many centuries ago.  She loves many things, in particular delving into the arts and paranormal and her favourite pastimes are writing, reading, opera, studying, travel, vintage clothing and magic.

Look out for her shortly as she’s about to start her new blog and brand new website and will as usual welcome emails promising to answer every one.

Website:  http://alcamiapayne.web.officelive.com

My blogspot:  http://alcamiapayne.wordpress.com   

*****

The Secret Library is a new range from Xcite Books which will appeal to the female romance reader market. Each book contains three specially commissioned novellas guaranteeing a satisfying and varied selection.

The story content is relationship led with a strong alpha male hero, a level of conflict and a climactic, explicit ending.

The covers are deliberately designed without visual imagery to be discreet. These books could be comfortably read in public, given as gifts and left on a bedside table.

 

The Secret Library contains six books with three erotic romance novellas in each:

Traded Innocence – Toni Sands, Elizabeth Coldwell and K D Grace

Silk Stockings – Constance Munday, Jenna Bright and Lucy Felthouse

One Long Hot Summer – Elizabeth Coldwell, Penelope Friday and Shanna Germain

The Thousand and One Nights – Kitti Bernetti, Primula Bond and Sommer Marsden

The Game – Jeff Cott, Antonia Adams and Sommer Marsden

Hungarian Rhapsody – Justine Elyot, Charlotte Stein and Kay Jaybee   

Birthday Party, Filthy Mouths and Hands-On Fun

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Can you believe we’re almost through May? My, how this year has flown by. And at last sunshine! So you shouldn’t be too surprised that I’m going to give you a quick update and a juicy one-handed read excerpt for the last weekend in National Masturbation Month then I’m off to work on my farmer’s tan in the allotment.

Coffee Time Romance Fun

For those of you who haven’t been over to Coffee Time Romance yet, you still have time. I’ve been over there this whole month talking about Body Temperature and Rising, and all things paranormal and sexy. Stop by, read the sexy excerpts, join in the fun and if you leave a comment, you could win an eBook version of The Initiation of Ms Holly or The Pet Shop. Winner’s choice.

Happy Birthday Erotic Meet!

If you’re around London the 1st of June, THE party that will kick of June with a bang, and the place to be on the first is the Erotic Meet’s first birthday bash over at the Green Carnation in Soho.  Wow! Happy Birthday, Erotic Meet! A whole year of gathering of erotic creatives and sexy like-minded fun folk. Not to be missed if you can get there. Doors open at 6:00 with happy houre till midnight. Show starts at 8:00 with stellar entertainment and yummy giveaways, including a copy of The Pet Shop signed by the author herself , who is very excited to be included in the fun! Here’s the link! Creativity WILL be celebrated! Get thee a ticket and join the fun!

Filthy Mouths and Evil Tongues

 

Back for more of the naughtiest sexiest readings in London, I’ll be reading with the fabulous Filthy Mouths and Evil Tongues Ladies at Sh! Hoxton on Friday the 15th of June. The fun starts at 6:30 with drinkie-winks, then it’s rude reads all the way, with breaks to browse the fabulous Sh! stock of yumminess. On the naughtiness agenda: The Dragon King’s Daughter, Elizabeth N. Spire, Meg Philip, Mel Jones and yours truly.  A filthy time will be had by all!

Hands-On Fun

And finally, it’s the last weekend of National Masturbation Month, and if you’ve not been doing your part to celebrate self-love, then you’ve got a lot of missed celebrating to make up for. Best get with the programme. I’m all about encouragement of self-love on my site, so I’ll leave you with this very nasy self-love excerpt from my naughty novella, Migrations, which I’m very proud to say is in the Traded Innocence anthology of Xcite’s Secret Library. Enjoy! And happy hands-on!

Migrations Excerpt:

‘It’s the road trip from hell! I knew it would be. I just knew it!’ Val didn’t bother to

speak quietly. After what she’d been through, no one could possibly blame her for losing it and talking to herself. And this was just the beginning! How the hell was she going to survive this little misadventure all the way to Oregon? She glanced quickly over her shoulder as she stepped behind the bathrooms at the rest area, trying desperately to block out the memory of Aunt Rose accusing the elderly gentleman at the vending machine of stealing her change.

She needed to vent or she’d explode. Once behind the building she turned her face to

the wall and banged her head against it. ‘Why me? I’m not a bad person. I never murdered anyone, I always recycle, I volunteer for the autumn fucking bird count. Why, ‘she banged her head for emphasis.’ the hell’ bang bang bang. ‘Me?’ Bang, bang.

‘Sounds like you could use a good wank.’

She couldn’t have stopped the yelp that escaped her throat if she’d tried, but as she spun around to make a run for the car, what she saw stopped her in her tracks.

‘Sh!’ A man in a faded blue t-shirt and jeans that were even more faded raised a finger to his lips’ It was impossible not to notice that the other hand was occupied, wrapped around the big stiffy that looked as though it had parted his fly like Moses parting the Red Sea, and my, what a staff!

When he was sure he had her full attention, as if there was any doubt of that, he spoke. ‘Quiet.’ He glanced around quickly. ‘If word gets out,’ he nodded to his stretching cock, ‘everyone’ll be back here getting a little relief from the road. Though In your case,’ he leaned closer and she could see startling blue eyes peeking over the mirrored shades that slid down his sun-freckled nose, ‘ I reckon you need it more than most.’

She pressed her back against the wall and moaned, not taking her eyes off the fascinating handwork on his cock. ‘You saw then.’

He nodded and gave a little grunt and a flutter of sunbleached lashes as he lifted his balls free from the peek-a-boo squish of his fly. ‘And heard. Hard not to really.’

‘Fuck!’ She cursed.

He chuckled. ‘I never fuck on a first date, but I’m happy to choke the chicken in solidarity.’

She nodded to his efforts. ‘It really helps?’

‘Absolutely,’ he grunted at a particularly rough tugging of his cock. ‘Best kept secret in the world,’ he said following her gaze, giving his balls a smile and a grope as though he’d just realized they were there. ‘The world would be a much better place if everyone would just chill and treat themselves to a little self-love every now and again. Can you imagine the bliss? Go on, indulge yourself.’ He nodded to her trousers. ‘I’d say you could use the relief.’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t have time, Aunt Rose will be on me like a screaming banshee if she catches me.’

‘Of course you’ve got time. If I’m not mistaken, she took her copy of The National Enquirer into the bathroom with her, didn’t she? And your cousin, she is your cousin, isn’t she? Well, she’s on her cell phone with her kids, something about not pouring tomato soup in the toaster.’

‘Jesus, you heard?’

‘Sweet cheeks, everybody heard,’ he said with a tug on his schlong for emphasis. Trust me, the misdeeds of your cousin’s little angels and the condition of your auntie’s bowels are now common knowledge at this rest stop.’

‘Fuck,’ she said again, running a hand through her hair, now beginning to curl around her temples from the unseasonably warm spring heat.

‘Really, darlin’,’ he nodded again to her trousers. ‘It’ll make you feel better. I won’t look if you don’t want me to.’

Maybe it was just a testament to how desperate she was, or how loopy she had already become, but she opened her fly and stuck her hand down inside her panties. When she made contact, her breath caught and her body gave a little involuntary jerk.

Without missing a beat, he gave her an appreciative nod. ‘There now. That’s better, isn’t it? You wet?’

She nodded. ‘How’d you know?’

‘No surprise really. Anger and frustration can often be a turn-on. Well not a turn-on per-se, but the body compensates for the stress in the best way it knows to make itself feel better.’ He shrugged. ‘Plus watching someone else handle their junk usually will do it the trick too.’

‘Sh!’ she hissed. ‘Don’t talk, just touch it, and let me watch, and relieve my stress.’

He did as she asked, easing his jeans down enough that she could see the lovely straight lines of his hips perfectly balanced by the muscular swell of his ass-cheeks, which clenched and relaxed with each thrust. ‘What else,’ he grunted.

‘Huh?’

‘What else do you want to see? Not that I’m an exhibitionist or anything,’ his breath accelerated noticeably, ‘but I’m sympathetic to your circumstances, and right now this is so working for me.’

It wasn’t doing too badly for her either, as she slipped two fingers in between her swell and began to scissor them while her thumb went to work on her clit. ‘Turn around a little,’ she breathed. ‘I want to see your ass.’

He did as she asked, half bending over to give her an exquisite view, and she felt herself gush, as he spread his ass-cheeks. ‘Oh my!’ she gasped.

‘You like that, do you? You wanna see my back hole?’

‘Oh god yes.’

‘And you’d like me to finger it while I wank, wouldn’t you?’ He didn’t wait for her answer. And he really didn’t need to. Almost as though he knew what was going on in her panties, he stuck a thick middle finger into his mouth and sucked it until it was wet and shiny with his saliva. For a moment, she found what he was doing to his finger with his yummy mouth almost as hot as what he was doing to his cock. Through all of his efforts, his eyes, peeking over the mirrored sun shades, never left hers.

Watching her over his shoulder, making sure he was at just the right angle for her to see what was going on in front and behind, he bent over still further and spread his legs so that the twitch of his asshole was centre stage. With a tight breath released between his teeth, almost like he’d touched something hot, he eased his finger in to his back grip. ‘Ah, that’s nice,’ he breathed. ‘Such a tight fit, and my asshole’s so sensitive.’ Then he shoved it all the way in. His eyelids fluttered, his ass cheeks clenched and he positively growled and bucked against himself, tugging at his penis as though it were in serious need of subjugation.

Her panties were beyond wet, and she now gave herself the whole hand hump, four fingers shoving and wriggling inside her wet snatch while her palm exerted exquisite, almost painful pressure against her mons, which put the squeeze on her burgeoning clit. She shoved the other hand inside her blouse and maneuvered her left breast free from her bra, at least free enough that she could knead it while pinching and stroking the nipple until it was tight and engorged and raw.

‘What else,’ he gasped.

‘I want to see you come.’ Her voice was a harsh whisper, and she felt the blush crawl up her face that she would even ask such a thing. And yet, her pussy clenched against her fingers at the thought, and her clit surged. ‘I know you’re close. You look like you’re about to burst, so go ahead. I want to see you unload on the ground like the nasty man that you are. I want to watch you spurt.’ Jesus, what was the matter with her, talking like some street whore, but even as she spoke, she felt wet slippery approval from her cunt.

‘Your wish is my command,’ he grunted. Three hard jerks balanced by the finger digging at his asshole, and he shot thick white streamers of semen across the well-manicured grass.

Launch, Lust and Self-Love

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Lots of Lakeland Heatwave News!

Body Temperature and Rising has been out in paperback and eBook in the UK since October and in eBook in the US as well, but tomorrow is the official print launch day of Body Temperature and Rising in the US! I love book launches! And I LOVE the chance to celebrate. I’m very pleased with the positive response BTR is getting, and the closer I get to the completion of all three novels in the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, the more excited I get.

In more Lakeland Heatwave news, Body Temperature and Rising is being discussed all this month over at Coffee Time Romance. I’ll be talking paranormal erotic romance, what makes it work and what makes it hot. I’ll also be sharing some juicy excerpts, talking about what inspired me to write it, talking about sex magic, sharing a few snap shots of the glorious English Lake District, where the story is set, and just generally chatting about witches, demons, ghosts and all things paranormal and sexy. Do stop by and chat. Leave a comment for a chance to win your choice of either of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly, or The Pet Shop.

Even MORE Lakeland Heatwave News

I’m very excited to announce that I’ve just finished the first draft of book three of the Lakeland Heatwave Trilogy, Elemental Fire. You may have remembered that I had just finished the first draft of book two, Riding the Ether, in February. I decided to write the last two books back to back so I could get the best overall view of the powerful events that lead to the grand finale. Plus, I had less chance of suffering from empty nest syndrome that way. I have to admit there were a few twist and turns that even I didn’t expect, and I can hardly wait to make all three novels available to my readers! Riding the Ether will be published in October, and there’ll be much partying and dancing in the streets.

Novellas                                                                              

Last month I was all excited about the release of my two new novellas, Surrogates, published with Harper Collin’s new erotica eBook imprint, Mischief, and Migrations,  which included in the brand new Xcite Books line of anthologies, The Secret Library, in the Traded Innocence anthology. I’m happy to announce that both are doing well and enjoying good press. I’m doing my best to have as many of the authors from the new Secret Library line as guest on my blog as possible, so please check in to see what hot, romantic offerings are deliciously hidden inside those very elegant velvet covers. I’ll also have some exciting guest authors stopping by from the new Mischief line as well, so do make sure to check out A Hopeful Romantic for all the latest heat.

Garden Porn

Any of you who have read much of my work know that I’ve got a reputation for writing garden porn. Surrogates is a very hot romp through the veg patch, and some pretty stunning formal gardens as well. My short story, Vegging is packed full of veggie naughtiness, and my story, Allotted Views is a voyeuristic romp through the allotments.  I’ve always found working in the veg patch inspiring, and it has just got a whole lot more inspiring for me, as my husband and I just got an allotment after three long years on the waiting list. I think our patch alone is big enough to feed half of Surrey. And that means, of course, LOTS more inspiration for writing hot garden porn.

The Merry Month of May…er National Masturbation Month!

Okay, how could I possibly NOT end this little update with a happy, touchy-feely mention of National Masturbation Month? The celebration of May as National Masturbation Month started in 1995 in San Francisco as a response to the forced resignation of then U.S. Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders, for remarks she made that masturbation should be taught as a healthy part of human sexuality.

The comment ended Elders’ career. National Masturbation Month came about as an act of protest against Elders’ ouster and a celebration of the safest sex of all. I’m definitely planning to do my part to celebrate in solidarity! And I intend to start by giving you a few very hot excerpts of the self-loving kind throughout the rest of the month – my contribution to the celebration of solo-sex. I hope you find them inspiringJ

Since all the latest news is Lakeland Heatwave, I’m going to start the self-love lit with a hands-on scene from Body Temperature and Rising. Enjoy!

Excerpt:

(in which much naughtiness ensues. Not for the delicate of disposition)

Marie woke to the awareness of a man sitting on the bed next to her, a man who, from the looks of his clothing, must have been at the same costume party as Anderson. His fly was open and he was stroking a substantial hard-on. Instead of being frightened, as would have been the normal response to a stranger rubbing one off on her bed, she simply admired his pale hair and the way his large hand moved over heavy equipment. She liked it when she conjured sexy men to visit her in her dream world. Better yet she had conjured one obviously ready to play.

She watched through half closed eyes as he shoved his trousers open further and worried distended balls free from the press of his underpants. With one hand, he caressed the length of his cock, with the other he cupped himself and stroked with his thumb.

‘I heard them talking about you.’ The man said. ‘They didn’t say how strong you are.’ He groaned out loud and shifted to slide his trousers down so that his pale ass settled onto the duvet, allowing easier access to himself. ‘Even if they had, I would not have believed them.’ His voice was a harsh whispered. ‘I long to know what you look like beneath the duvet, beneath the nightdress. Please let me look at you.’

So far this dream was shaping up well. She was happy to play I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. Strangely Dream Guy sounded like he’d studied the same romantics Anderson had. Who’d have thought antiquated poet-speak could be so damned hot? She eased herself into a sitting position against the head board and pushed back the bedding. The night shirt lay high against her thighs, barely covering her cunt.

She was amazed at how well she could see in the moonlight drifting through her window. She could see the shape of him, the anxious rise and fall of his chest, the parting of his lips. She could feel his gaze on the hem of her night shirt. She scrunched and raked at it until her hand rested against her pubic mound obscuring his view, and he groaned his frustration. Slowly, carefully she raised her bottom and shifted until the night shirt was out of the way and her bare buttocks pressed against the smooth cotton of the sheet.

His gaze on her felt almost physical, as though with his eyes alone he could gently nudge her open. ‘Please let me see,’ he whispered.

She had played the voyeur with Anderson and Tara earlier. Now it felt wonderfully wicked to play the exhibitionist, as she shifted her ass again and slowly, teasingly opened her thighs, still nestling her hand in her curls, stroking and caressing, making herself wait until that magical moment when her fingers first slipped between the swell of her lips.

‘I can smell you,’ he said. ‘The scent of your sex is intoxicating, please, please let me look at you.’

This time, she moved her fingers down over the hard rise of her clitoris and in between the pout of her lips, her breath catching, her hips jerking with that first electrical touch. Then she spread her labia as wide as she could manage with two fingers and opened her legs still further until she was certain Dream Guy could see every detail of her dilating pussy, every fold of her slippery landscape.

He gasped at the sight, and she could see his balls tighten and jerk with the intake of breath. He shifted a fisted hand down the length of his penis, lingering for his thumb to caress and circle the head, its slit opening and closing with each stroke. She could feel the gentle rocking of the mattress and wasn’t sure if it was from her dream lover, who was now grinding his ass against the bed with each stroke, or if it was from her own bearing down.

‘Touch yourself for me,’ the man said. ‘I want to watch you pleasure your lovely womanhood.’

There was a strange man sitting on the foot of her bed watching her masturbate. The very thought made her juices run thick and hot.

*****

Wishing you all a very merry, touchy-feely month of May! And here’s a lucious link to The Center for the Intimate Arts and some fab visual stimulation.