Thursday, 27 November 2014

City Nights: One Night in Paris by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) Just $0.99/77p on Amazon During November!

For the month of November, this erotic romance novella will be on SALE. Warm up those winter nights with this smokin’ hot read!

Grab your copy here:

Here's what it's all about:

Jacob is nearly forty, and has recently come to the sudden realisation that he’s not doing much with his life. Sure, he’s got his own successful business, but what’s the point in earning lots of money and not doing anything or going anywhere to spend it?

He’s in serious danger of being all work and no play, so he starts to rectify this by organising a twenty four hour layover in Paris en route to a meeting in Dubai. Whilst there, he goes on a bus tour of the city, and there meets Annabelle, a fellow Brit who’s studying in Paris. There’s clearly an attraction between the two of them, so when the gorgeous Annabelle makes an indecent proposal to help Jacob fill his time in Paris, who is he to refuse?


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 Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:

Monday, 24 November 2014

Special Guest - Ashe Barker

Wow, it’s wonderful to be here, a guest of the fabulous Brit Babes especially as I’m a Brit myself. I live in the north of England, in West Yorkshire, Bronte country to be more specific. The moors around where I live make a brilliant backdrop for the sexy stories I like to write. The first trilogy I wrote, The Dark Side, was described by one reviewer as Heathcliff meets Fifty Shades, which I sort of liked.

But we digress. I’m here to talk about my latest story, which was an entirely new venture for me, my first excursion into M/M romance. The lovely Lily Harlem dropped me a line a while back asking if I might be interested in contributing a story for a box set – Brit Boys on … Boys. It would be M/M, British authors, British settings. Sounded yummy so I was in – such unseemly haste, but there you have it.

The result, a gorgeously hot collection of man on man action from some of the most talented writers of erotic fiction in the UK today. I am in excellent company, snuggled up in the box set with Lily Harlem, Lucy Felthouse, Clare London, K.D. Grace, Marissa Farrar, Jacqui Brocker, Josephine Myles, and Sarah Masters

Although I’d read plenty of M/M before, I had never written any. I fessed up to that, but I was undaunted. I wanted to have a go. After all, apart from some basic biology changes, romance is, well, romance isn’t it? And the smutty bits shouldn’t be too difficult. Or so I thought.

I had a lot of fun writing Bodywork. It’s a story set in West Yorkshire (where else), in the lovely small town of Hebden Bridge where Alex runs a car body repair shop, and Graham is a graphic artist. It’s a location I know well, and love, so I couldn’t resist sharing this picture, which inspired my description of the riverside mill conversion where Alex lives.

The sex between Alex and Graham is HOT, sizzling in fact, and I loved writing those scenes. I had a little inspiration, naturally, which I thought it only fair to share with you now.

Even though I usually write BDSM stories, I can still become a bit squeamish if the Dom gets more than a little rough with his sub, even though that is often perfectly okay in the context. I guess that ‘boys don’t hit girls’ thing from my school days is so deeply ingrained I have to make a conscious effort to shed it and let the story flow. Not so with Bodywork. Alex and Graham have no such inhibitions, no hang-ups. It was refreshing to just let these two go for it. I could let the sex be as heavy, or as gentle, as the scene needed, and they just have a great time together.

I drafted the story, did the usual self-editing to pick up typos and obvious continuity errors. To say I don’t usually write paranormal it’s scary the number of times my characters’ eyes change colour half way through. Then I sent it to one of the other authors in the group who had so kindly offered to copy edit for me. She liked the story, sorted out my sloppy grammar, but suggested I needed to use some more ‘mannish’ words in the sex scenes. She thought I needed to make the conversations more ‘blokey’.

Well I have a reasonably extensive vocabulary for describing smut, but ‘blokey’ probably doesn’t describe it. I needed to supplement my customary offerings of ‘cock’ and dick’. Clearly I needed to do some more research so I started, as you might expect, at home.

My husband was just tucking into his sausage, egg and chips when I asked him what he usually called his knob, if he found himself discussing it with another bloke. There was a bit of mess to clean up – egg does tend to go everywhere in those moments I find – but when I explained the reason for my inquiry he was as helpful as he could be. “Prick’ and ‘family jewels’ were added to my list. My repertoire was growing, but I needed more.

I asked my daughter, who had been drawn into the conversation when the egg started flying and she found herself pressed into service slapping her dad between the shoulder blades. She’s just sixteen, so I had my reservations, but she’s been around me long enough that our household is not especially coy. Even so, she added several more contributions to my list than I had expected from her and I found myself wondering if perhaps I would have been happier not knowing.

Even so, I pressed on. So far so good. But still I needed more so I turned to that fount of all wisdom, Facebook. I went to a couple of groups where I often hang out with other erotic authors and lovers of smut, and posted the question there. I asked for any ‘mannish’ words to describe any part of the male anatomy or related subjects. The ladies of Facebook kink and smuttery did not let me down. The floodgates opened, a rich vein was tapped. My education was enhanced immeasurably.

Here, dear friends, is my list. It remains a work in progress.
Family jewels
Boys and master
Mr Happy & the Boys
Trouser snake
The little man
The big man
Fruit and veg
Crown jewels
Ding dong
Tally wacker
Release the cracker
Boogie man
Twig and berries

Of course, this is not a complete collection. I have no doubt there are many, many more words to be added to my blossoming vocabulary and I would be obliged if any readers with particular gems of their own to add would share them with me. Leave them as a comment. When I write my next M/M story I will be drawing on them. But these were a good start, and certainly got me past the finishing post so I am indebted to my family and to my Facebook friends.

Just to demonstrate that I did incorporate at least one of these pearls of wisdom, here’s an excerpt from Bodywork, one of the smutty bits, naturally.

Graham chuckles. “Wait, not so fast.”
“Yes, so fast.” I don’t want to seem over eager, but shit…!
“In my jeans.” I’m not given to bouts of religious fervour but I offer up thanks to any deity who might be listening that I am blessed with an innate sense of responsibility and self-preservation, which means I am never unprepared. Well, not entirely. I hope Graham can lay his hands on some lubricant, although I’m not against a little improvisation. I roll to the edge of the bed and rummage among my discarded clothes to retrieve three foil packets. Should be enough. I hope. For now.
“Give.” Graham holds out his free hand.
I’m grateful that he hasn’t seen fit to release his grip on my cock. I drop the condoms into his palm and return to my task of relieving him of his pants.
Graham glances at the condoms. His grin is lust-filled. I suspect my optimism is not misplaced. He tosses the sachets onto the pillow.
Moments later we are both naked. His tackle is in my hand, swelling, solid, seriously impressive. I clench my arse in anticipation. This is going to be one hell of a tight fit, but I like it like that. I cup his balls with my other hand. They feel heavy and I squeeze. He twitches in my hands, and groans.
“Christ, Alex. Don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.”
The thought never entered my head. Graham’s fist is still stroking up and down my dick but the pace has become more leisurely now as my work on his cock grabs his undivided attention. I don’t mind that, don’t care. There’s time, and I want to please him, to give him as much pleasure as I’m able.
I shift into a kneeling position beside him and lean over to lick the head of his cock. The slit is already opening to leak droplets of clear, slick pre-cum. It tastes salty, the tang familiar yet unique, a flavour that is just Graham. I open my lips to take in the head and as much of his length as I can manage. I start by using the pocket of my inner cheek, but I’m soon shifting position again, now kneeling between his legs to draw the whole of his dick into my mouth and throat.
Graham’s fingers are in my hair, holding my head, but he doesn’t try to force the pace. It wouldn’t bother me if he did, I don’t mind things getting a bit rough. Even so, I appreciate his restraint, his good manners.
I suck on his cock, using my hands to massage his balls. Graham is writhing under me, his low moans and breathy, guttural curses telling me in no uncertain terms that I’m on the right track. I speed up, ramp up the pressure. I press harder, squeeze a little more, digging my fingers into the rough skin of his scrotum. I scrape my teeth along the wide, swollen head, then swipe my tongue over the smooth curves. The trickle of pre-cum builds, delicious, both sweet and tart at the same time. My saliva mingles with it as I bob my head up and down to take as much of him as I possibly can.
“Alex, I’m close…”
I ignore the warning, tightening my grip on his nuts as his orgasm builds and boils within him. He stiffens in my hands, poised in those final few moments. I continue to work him hard and fast. With a muffled obscenity his cock leaps in my mouth and the hot flood of semen hits the back of my throat. I was expecting it, but still I have to work to swallow, to keep my airway clear. The jizz continues to flow, his balls pumping the warm fluid into my mouth as fast as I can swallow it.

* * * *

About me…

I’ve been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres, and I still love reading historical and contemporary romances – the hotter the better. But now I have a good excuse for my guilty pleasure – research.

I tend to draw on settings and anecdotes from my own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to my plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.

When not writing – which is not very often these days - my time is divided between my role as resident taxi driver for my teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, rabbits, tortoises.  And most recently a very grumpy cockatiel. 

I have seventeen (at the last count) titles on general release, with several more in the pipeline. I have written four trilogies in the Black Combe ‘family’, published by Totally Bound. The Dark Side, Sure Mastery, The Hardest Word, and A Richness of Swallows are all set in the north of England, in some of my favourite locations in Yorkshire and Cumbria They are all fine to read it as stand-alones, but even better if you read them in sequence. I also have a ‘May to September’ style novella out, a short story in Totally Bound’s Paramour collection, a raunchy pirate tale in their Jolly Rogered collection, and a stand-alone novel in the ‘What’s Her secret?’ imprint.

I have a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keep thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from me.

I love to hear from readers. You can find me on my blog, and on the Totally Bound site. I’m on Facebook, and twitter. I’m on Pinterest too, and Goodreads

*** Look out for an exclusive cover reveal and first details of Brit Boys on Boys at GRR on 10th Dec ***

Thursday, 20 November 2014


I’m thinking about flaws today, which is not unusual, since Grace Marshall is smack-dab in the middle of writing Wade’s story, and finding that it isn’t so much what that body of his looks like under the oversized hoodie and the baggie jeans as it is his flaws that are endearing me more and more to Wade Crittenden. Of course it’s those flaws that intrigue Carla Flannery as well. Mind you, she has a good few of her own flaws thrown into the mix. But I’m thinking about flaws rather than nice arses or the size of the package or the pertness of the tits because the more I uncover Wade and Carla’s flaws, the better I like them.

I’m not saying that I don’t want a strong hero. Of course I do. I want strong, sexy, intelligent. I want it all! But I’m saying that there’s something about the stuff that both the hero and the heroine keep hidden, the stuff that they don’t really want me, or my readers, to see that makes me want to embrace them and love them, that makes me remember them long after the novel is over.

I suppose it’s the need to identify as much as anything. I mean, lets face it, we all put ourselves in the story as we read it. We all become in some way, the characters we read about. And if we do it as readers, I promise that we writers do it even more. Living vicariously is the name of the game for us, whether we’re reading or whether we’re writing. That means that I need to be able to identify with those characters and, to be honest, perfection is not very relatable.

Of course we want our heroes to be larger than life, to live beyond what our everyday work-a-day world offers, to have adventures and mad, passionate, filthy sex, and in the end to win the day and get the love they deserve. I’m speaking of romance here, of course, because that’s what I write. I need to have romance in any story I’m writing because I’m a romantic to the core and I need to believe that love will prevail.

But I also need to believe that love will prevail in spite of our flaws, that it isn’t our beauty that makes us loveable, but something much deeper, something that struggling to live with those flaws creates – the oyster making the irritating grain of sand into a pearl, if you will. The flaws in characters are a touchstone to their humanity and to their relatability as well as an opportunity for them to do battle with themselves, an opportunity to overcome. Those flaws are also the opportunity to answer the big question in all romance – is the hero worthy of unconditional love, and can the heroine give it to him and facilitate either the healing he needs or the acceptance he needs to come to grips with those flaws and except them as a part of who he or she is?

Flaws make stories multi-dimensional in a way an external battle alone never can. Granted, an external battle is a fantastic way to bring character flaws to the surface, and Wade and Carla have a helluva an external battle to deal with, but in a story or in real life, it’s how those flaws are dealt with in the external battles that keep readers (and writers) on the edge of their seats and reading or writing until the transformation happens. And sometimes the transformation is simply the  acceptance of self. In fact more often than not, the internal battles are characters struggle to move beyond denial and accept who they are. Often that involves coming to the understanding that someone else, someone they have come to care about, has also accepted them and values them for who they are.

Here’s a little sneak-peek at Wade and Carla.

Interviewing Wade Blurb:
The Executive Decisions Trilogy may be over, but the story continues. Intrepid reporter, Carla Flannery, wants to interview Wade Crittenden, the secretive creative genius behind Pheuma, Inc, But when, against all odds, Wade actually agrees to the interview, Carla suspects ulterior motives.

Carla has made a lot of enemies in her work and when Wade discovers she’s being stalked, he agrees to the interview to keep her close and safe. As the situation turns deadly, lives and hearts are on the line, and the interview reveals far more about both than either ever expected.

Sneak Preview of WIP Interviewing Wade:
The dining area smelled of Chinese food. Lynn had spread the feast on the coffee table in front of the ratty sofa. For a moment, Carla stood staring at the food, feeling slightly nauseated. ‘I’m not hungry,’ she said.

‘Come on, you need to eat. With your metabolism, being what it is, if you don’t you’ll have wasted completely away by morning.’ He settled her onto the least lumpy part of the couch and then sat down next to her. When she made no effort, he opened the waxed cardboard containers and surveyed their contents. Then he ladled up a spoonful of egg flower soup and totally surprised her by bringing it, with a steady hand, to her lips. ‘A little bit,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to hurt Lynn’s feelings, do you?’

She opened her mouth, and he carefully spooned it in and watched while she swallowed. ‘Since when have you cared about hurting anyone’s feelings,’ she said. The soup had felt good against her throat, and it wasn’t so difficult to open her mouth when he spooned up the next bite. ‘I don’t, really, and just for the record, Lynn doesn’t care about mine either, but I’m not above lying to get my way.’ He ladled another spoonful into her mouth and this time she made an mmm sound at the back of her throat as she swallowed.

‘And are you getting what you want?'

‘You’re eating, aren’t you?’

He gave a little gasp of surprise when she took the spoon away from him, dipped up a nice fat egg drop and pointed the utensil in his direction. When he stared at her like she had two heads, she laughed softly. ‘Come on Crittenden, open up. Here comes a choo-choo.’ She wasn’t sure if he opened his mouth for the soup or because he was about to say something rude. Either way she took advantage and shoved the spoon home. When he took the bite, holding her gaze as though he didn’t quite understand what kind of creature had assaulted him with a soupspoon, holding her gaze with absolutely no sexual innuendo, but her insides trembled and hollowed anyway.

‘It’s good,’ he said, his cheeks turning a warm shade of pink, as he took the spoon back and returned the favour, and this time he didn’t protest when it was his turn,– even as she picked up a pair of chopsticks and brazenly served up a sloppy mouthful of Singapore noodles while he sat with his mouth slightly open, making her think of a hungry nestling waiting for a worm. The thought made her giggle at the last instant, and he barely caught the end of an escaping noodle in time to slurp it off his chin and into his mouth. ‘You’re sloppy, Flannery,’ he said, licking his lips with two flicks of his tongue that made her breath catch and her nipples ache.

Dear Christ, he had no idea whatsoever what he did to her. This time, as she waited open-mouthed for her bite of soup, his
hand was far less stead and at least half of it ended up in her cleavage. She yelped. ‘You did that on purpose.’

‘Did not’ he said. Handing her a napkin and watching wide-eyed as she dabbed away chicken broth.

‘Did so.’

‘Did not,’ he said. Then he filled the chopsticks dangerously full of noodles and brought them toward her mouth. ‘This --’ he opened the chopsticks and the whole bite slipped off the ends and right down between her breasts ‘—I did on purpose.’

Monday, 17 November 2014

Special Guest - Janine Ashbless

Hello everyone – Janine Ashbless here, and I’m pleased to be joined today by the Milja Petak, the  heroine of my new novel Cover Him with Darkness. Hello Milja!

Milja: Hi.

Janine: Is everything alright? You’re good with this, yes?

Milja: I guess. We’re probably okay…

Janine: Do you think you’ll get in trouble with your, um, boyfriend?

Milja: I won’t. You might.

Janine: Well. Right then. You’re from Montenegro, aren’t you?

Milja: That’s right. And yes, I know what your readers are thinking: “Where’s that?” I get that all the time. Sometimes with “Is it in Africa?”

Janine: Well to be fair, I didn’t know anything about the country when I started writing the book either! I had to do a lot of research, and travel there for a look.

Milja: Yes, my country’s not famous. It’s only about the size of Connecticut.

Janine: Or Wales…

Milja: It’s in Europe, on the Mediterranean – just head east from Italy. It’s small and very mountainous, and quite traditional in outlook. But my father sent me to America when I was eighteen, to finish my college education and improve my English.

Janine: And to get you away from the prisoner in your cellar.

Milja: … Yes.

Janine: And that was…?

Milja: He was a fallen angel.

Janine: Not just any fallen angel: Azazel, the Scapegoat, one of the great corruptors of humankind. The one who taught us warfare.

Milja: I really doubt we needed teaching.

Janine: What was he like?

Milja. He was beautiful. And he was in agony. Hunger and thirst and pain. I grew up knowing he was there, chained beneath my feet in the darkness, under all that rock. Every day, all day and all night. Dependent on us for every crumb and sip of water. We were his tormentors.

Janine: So you set him free?

Milja: Eventually. If I’d been braver, I would have done it years earlier.

Janine: There are those who have said that wasn’t really the smartest move in the world to let loose a major demon … just because you had a crush on him.

Milja: They’re right. It wasn’t smart. You know what would have been smart? You know what would have been sensible? To leave him to fester there forever and ever – and to never think about him, and to let him suffer, and to dope myself into a stupor every day just so that I could live with myself and not cut my throat -

Janine: Milja, please – sit down. I’m not judging you!

Milja: Aren’t you? What would you have done in my place, Mrs Smarty Author Person?

Janine: … Honestly, I can’t answer that. I’m a bit older than you; I don’t do the crazy-for-love stuff so much anymore.

Milja: Azazel is thousands of years old. He still knows how to love.

Janine: Yeah, can we talk about that? Azazel is, well, not … The first thing he did was screw you then abandon you. When he came back he claimed you as his concubine. I don’t remember him ever asking for consent.

Milja: He has a lot to learn, yes. His ideas about relationships are sort of stuck in the Bronze Age. As you might expect.

Janine: He’s a giant jerk. Well, sometimes.   

Milja: He’s not human. How can you judge him like he was some guy I picked up in a coffee bar? Like he should know all the rules we invented?

Janine: He killed a whole bunch of people.

Milja: To save me. Because he loves me.

Janine: So it doesn’t bother you?

Milja: Yes it bothers me! Of course it bothers me! I love a monster! And he’s damned by God Almighty so I’m damned with him – do you think that’s something I shrug off?

Janine: I’m sorry…

Milja: Listen – he is … He is really smart in some ways. Way smarter than any human being. The way he can pick up information … But in his emotions he is sort of simple, I think. He loves and he hates, and he acts on that. If he enjoys something he just goes ahead and does it. If you’re his enemy, he kills you without conscience. He has no sense of shame or proper behaviour. He doesn’t see the complexities we see. He doesn’t think. He’s just himself. It makes him…

Janine: incredibly bloody dangerous. Aren’t you scared?

Milja: Not of him. I told him to go away, I told him I didn’t love him. And he just … went. And I was wrong. It was a stupid, cruel thing to do, and I did it just to punish him. But he wouldn’t do that to me.

Janine: I hope not.

Milja: I’m scared of a lot of things. My family want to kill me. Father Velimir and his crowd … they had plans for me I can’t even talk about because it makes me sick. And now…

Janine: Yes?

Milja: It looks like more than one of the Churches is trying to capture Azazel again. I think the Catholic lot know about him, and they are coming for him too. And God is on their side. I’m frightened, yes. But not of Azazel. Not so much.

NB: There is an interview with Azazel himself over at K D Grace’s blog

Cover Him with Darkness: a romance

Cover Him with Darkness, the story of what happens when a young woman releases a fallen angel from centuries of imprisonment, is available at Amazon US : Amazon UK

“If you loved an angel, how far would you fall with him?”
“Calling Cover Him With Darkness a romance is like calling a Lamborghini a cute little car. Janine Ashbless has broken every unwritten rule of writing romance and makes it work most spectacularly—it’s dark and gritty and so beautifully written that the words are pure poetry.
—Kate Douglas, author of the Wolf Tale series

“Janine Ashbless has long been a master at conjuring the erotic in myths and legends. Now she’s taking on religion and all I can say is wow. Just wow! What is evil? What is good? Could the faithful have completely missed the point? Sexy food for thought: Cover Him With Darkness is an
intensely wild ride.”
—D. L. King, editor of Seductress and The Sweetest Kiss

“This book was truly a fantastic read.”
—Rose Caraway, editor of The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica

“In a remote and mountainous part of Europe, a priest keeps a dark secret beneath his chapel—a prisoner. Even the holy man does not know how long he has been there—hundreds of years, or even longer. The priest's fear is that anyone in his parish would ever come in contact with his mysterious and unholy charge. But what happens is even worse than he could have ever imagined. His lovely young daughter Milja, whose innocence and devotion to God he prizes over all else, trails her father into the cavern and catches a glimpse of their unearthly prisoner. She looks into his eyes and sees pain and wisdom and eternity. Unable to keep away from this silent creature chained in the darkness, she is torn between family loyalty and her growing connection to their prisoner. One day her father discovers their forbidden intimacy and sends Milja off to America to be raised by her aunt in Boston – but nothing can keep her away forever. Cover Him in Darkness is a dark and thrilling story of a terrifying archangel banished from heaven and the human woman with whom he falls in love.”


Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure – and that’s “fantasy” in the sense of swords ‘n’ sandals, contemporary paranormal, fairytale, and stories based on mythology and folklore.  She likes to write about magic and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000, and her novels and single-author collections now run into double figures. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology Geek Love.

Her work has been described as: "hardcore and literate" (Madeline Moore) and "vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love."   (Portia Da Costa)