Monday, 23 January 2017

Special Guest - L M Mountford

Please welcome LM Mountford to the Brit Babes blog today - he's chatting about being a male erotica writer in a female dominated world! Enjoy...




Hi, I’m L.M. Mountford.



I’m an erotica author, but please don’t judge me by that alone. I’m also trying to break into dark romance, historical action and sci-fi/ fantasy. Honestly, though, I’m interested in anything plot that involves sex and violence. They make up some of the greatest stories in my opinion. A story is like any portrait, it needs to be made up of many colours, but make sure it has these two and you’re bound to be a success.

When I was in school, I wanted to be an actor. I gave that up after a final 'E' grade in GCSE Drama. That was a knock as everyone told me I was great. Before that and now, my dream is to be a successful author. I may be an author but I doubt I'll ever be successful, so I largely write for the love and challenge of it.



I wrote my first story when I was 14/15. A fanfiction story that I posted online. I’m something of an anime aficionado you see, and like any little boy, my mind had a tendency to wander. After that, it wasn’t long before I moved into the erotica genre, after all, what is it a boy that age thinks about, and I have been in the genre ever since.


Although I’d never really thought about self-publishing, it occurred to me when I was 21 after running across the kindle section of Amazon and seeing how many short stories had been published and were selling. It was something of an eye-opener. Until then, I’d thought KDP was for novels. Shortly after, I wrote and published Sweet Temptations: The Babysitter. I’d thought that would be the hard part, but after publishing, I came to realise it was only the beginning. Not only that, but I was woefully unprepared.

If I'm entirely honest it's a bit lonely being a man in the largely female dominated genre. I know other guys who write erotica of course, but we're like islands in the Atlantic Ocean, vastly separate and very different. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, what I see one way they see another so if I ever get stuck I can just put a notice on Facebook and a whole new way of things will open up to me, but it's still lonely. Whenever someone finds out I write erotica, I know a lot of jokes will be coming my way. It's almost like a bit of gossip everyone knows and just has to tell someone. It also doesn't help that I apparently 'don't look like someone who writes porn' (yes that is a quote from someone I know). It can be quite a strain on my character, but I enjoy writing erotica so I let it roll off my back as much as possible. Well, enjoy might be pushing it as it can be an extremely frustrating genre to work with, but the challenge is as much the fun as the feeling of accomplishment you get whenever it's finished.

My last Published work Confessions was particularly a challenge as it was both written from the female perspective, and the content meant it was difficult to write without turning it into a porn script.  In my first published book Sweet Temptations: The Babysitter, one of the biggest complaints was that there wasn't enough sex. Don't ask me how a book with a sex scene that took up a third of the pages was not enough but apparently, they wanted more. So I decided to give the public just that in my second. However, the same critics then told me there was too much. 

I don't mind saying Confessions was the bane of my life for two years. I was beset by writer's block to such a degree that by the end I was writing for the sake of writing and it was up to my editor to give me a needed kick up the arse. That being said, I'm glad I wrote it. It began as a commissioned fanfic and the story challenged me to many degrees as I can honestly say I've never written an M/M/M/M/F scene before.



Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, some of the scenes have caused some distress due to triggers and that has caused it to be critically received. A hard ending to something that was quite a hard time in my life as this work challenged me and made me think hard about if I'm truly meant to be a writer.



I still have a great deal of personal doubt, but I took the bull by the horns and I'm still here. Currently, i'm working on four projects - 

A four-part sci-fi Futanari erotic story, again another commission that I will be turning into an original work. It tells the story of a woman whose body is changing after an accident, and she finds herself fighting the urges brought out in her by the presence of the daughter of her father’s friend, who’s staying with her so she can keep an eye on her while her father away. 

A short contemporary romance set on the shores of Australia that has lost lovers reunited and sparks flying. It will be my first try at first person POV and while I'm not sure if it will have a future, it has potential to be more than just another standalone short-story. 

A historical adventure novel. The thrilling adventure set on the slopes of Victorian Natel amidst the blood and chaos of the Zulu-Angola war.

And finally a historical/erotic dark romance set on the deck of the titanic that I hope to have finished by next year, though it's far more likely it will two or three. 



When Mina returns for her stepbrother’s 21st birthday, she thinks her days of lusting after him are over. Caught up in the heat and passion of the moment, she is stunned to find them back in bed together; their feelings clearly far from resolved. Haunted by her desire, and her growing appetite, Mina now has another problem… she must head down a path of lust and desire; torn between the dark delights of the handsome bad boy down the street and her adorable stepbrother who has always been there for her. Can she confront the truth she has long tried to bury? How far will she go to save the one she wants, but knows she can never truly have?



A full length, 40,000+ word novel, Confessions is the stand-alone erotic drama from the Author of the sinfully delicious, Sweet Temptations Trilogy. Warning! It contains adult themes, harsh language, and graphic content, descriptions of intense sexual scenes, and dubious consent that might be triggers for some readers. 


Reviews.


This is quite the erotic read, complete with various sexual pairings and groupings. If you’re looking for a book that includes some taboo topics, dirty talk and name-calling, this may be the coming-of-age erotic book for you! - Geek Nymph



This is a taboo/forbidden read that is full of steamy pages and a incredible plot. This is definitely not for anyone under 18 as there are some highly charged sex scenes that are WOW! This is not the typical stepbrother story it’s so much more. - Hell's Mouth 


The plot was fresh and the sex scenes were definitely hot enough to melt my Kindle. - Lynn Cooper, author of The Dominant Seduction Series

This is one of those forbidden step-brother romances with an especially dark twist. I know I definitely didn't see it going in the direction it went. Suspenseful? Uh, yea. Sexy? Absolutely. - Always Love Me Some Books











Before I say goodbye, I'd also like to share a snippet of my next release. It's not finished yet but it should go live later this year and the details will be in my newsletter and blog as soon as they are available. So here is...
Afternoon Tea
By L.M. Mountford

The sizes were not quite exact. There were flecks of jam dotted here and there. And some of the buttercream had spilled over the edge when they’d been pressed together; but all in all, she doubted she had ever made a finer batch of Viennese Whirls.   
“Now that’s what I call a proper tea time treat.” Beaming, Racheal turned her eyes up from the biscuits to face the bank of webcams on the other side of her kitchen. There were six in-all. Each strategically arranged on a collapsible rigging to provide the best shots of the long island worktop. The cams buzzed with life, their inbuilt motion sensors detecting her motion and refocusing. “And these are great for sharing with friends over a brew, or if you just fancy something to nibble on as you go about the house.” 
It was a loosely rehearsed speech she’d been agonising over all morning. A mesh of facts, quips and banter she devised before any show to pick and mix as she saw fit in the moment and, coupled with her delicate beauty, pouting lips and soft emerald eyes framed by honey-blond tresses, helped to endear her to her audience.
With a twist of her lips that boarded on devilish, she plucked a biscuit from the plate and like a connoisseur pondering and savouring a fine vintage, exaggerated a long, deep breath. There was very little of the freshly baked aroma. It had been all but spent in the time it had taken her to perform the delicate operation to cream and sandwich the two biscuits together. Fortunately, the treats were still warm and the fruity bouquet of strawberry and blackberry jams wafting round her nostrils was more than enough incentive to have her sighing a low, delectable sound for the cameras. As dad says, what the eyes don’t see the chief gets away with.
Biscuit crumbled as she bit into it, cream coating her tongue. Though the measurements she’d quoted for the camera were the generic quantities, this recipe was one of her own. And it was very nice, but there was too much butter. Nearly there, she observed while chewing, maybe swap 20gs of butter for sugar, with perhaps two teaspoons of cinnamon to compliment the buttercream.  There was still plenty of time. Her new book’s deadline wasn’t until the beginning of May, that still gave her two months to work out all the little kinks. 
She swallowed, plush pink tongue darting out to collect any lingering traces of the buttercream. “Like most cakes, these are best eaten on the day you make them but will last for two or three more if properly stored.” As she spoke, she placed the half-eaten biscuit onto a piece of folded kitchen paper, then reached underneath to trigger the remote control hidden underneath, activating the cam’s shutoff timer.   
30, 29,28... Mentally mirroring the countdown, she continued, carefully picking up the plate of Viennese whirls and holding it up for the cameras to focus on. She pulled a broad smile, praying there weren’t crumbs in her teeth “Make that special person in your life a few of these and they’ll be putty in your hands.” 17,16,15… “But I’m afraid that’s all for today my lovelies.”11,10,9… “Thanks for tuning in and until next week, I’m Rachael Hart and this is-” The signoff died on her lips, her smile dropping. “What? No!” 
It didn’t make sense. She stared at the camera rigging, not entirely sure what she was seeing. Then it clicked, and she only wanted to scream. She wanted to scream and cry and ball her fists and hit something like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, and it was all she could do to place the plate of bisects back onto the island, be it not as delicately as the crookery warranted. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t anything go the way she wanted, instead of all just crashing down around her head? 
A second. Damnit, that was all she’d needed, one second. Just one more damn itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny second. Instead, the cams had cut out a full five second’s too early, effectively cutting her off mid exit.
 “For Fuck sake!” she cursed, slapping her hands down on the counter hard enough to send stinging barbs zipping through her palms. Angry tears burned the corners of her eyes. This was why she hated prerecording shows. An entire morning’s work, ruined. 
She most of accidentally changed back to the factory setting while redirecting the feed without realising.  
On any other day, the cams would have live streamed a hi-definition visual and audio feed directly to her website. Today, however, she had redirected the footage to her laptop for storage. It gave her a peace of mind to know she had an emergency show on hand, an insurance policy against one of life’s unforeseen, and unavoidable, eventualities rearing its ugly head and throwing a spanner in her works. She’d been meaning to do one for a while and, after that debacle this morning, it had been all she could think to do. After all, things couldn’t exactly get any worse. 
And it had all started so perfectly...
****
Humming the jaunty tune of Game of Throne’s The Bear and the Maiden Fair, Rachael could barely contain her self-congratulatory grin as she rolled the sizzling sausages over the lip of the frying pan onto an almost bursting plate of bacon and eggs. Mmm…Garrick’s going to love these.  
So far, everything was going to plan. She’d woken up an hour early, quickly turned off the alarm clock so it wouldn’t wake her sleeping husband, then gone around the house unplugging all the phones for good measure. After a quick shower that was sure to be a personal record breaker and dressed in nothing but her fluffy pink dressing gown, her hair tightly wrapped in a towel, she’d slipped downstairs and into the kitchen to prepare her man’s favourite breakfast in bed. 
This, however, was just the first of the surprises she had prepared for him today and the thought of what awaited made it impossible to restrain her grin. 
Steam billowed up with an angry hiss as she dunked the pan into the sink but Racheal was already pouring two glasses of orange juice, anticipation coiling around her belly. So much was riding on today, and it had been so long since they’d had breakfast together, She felt almost like a girl on Christmas morning just counting down the minutes until she can open her presents. 
Placing the glasses on either side of the plate, she carefully picked up the serving tray and carried it round the island, out the kitchen, through the hall and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs and the first on the right, their bedroom door was just as she’d left it, closed but not entirely shut. Somehow managing to balance the tray with one hand, she gave the door just enough of a push to open a gap wide enough to slip through then nudged it closed behind her with a nudge of her heel. 
Garrick was still asleep. Stretched languorously across the bed, lying on his front with his legs on his side and his face half buried in his wife’s pillows with inky strands of sleep tousled hair fanned out across relaxed, classily handsome features, he resembled a great lion stretched across a rock. A powerful beast wrapped in human skin, lord of all he surveyed and sheer force of nature, now at deceptive peace, sleeping off a long night’s hunting. 
Well aware he slept naked, hot tingling feelings shot out from her core as she placed the breakfast down on their chest of draws, her eyes roaming over the great heap in the comforter that was all that barred him from her voyeur delights, her mind swimming with thoughts of just how she might wake him. Her mouth began to water when she paused over the curve his butt and couldn’t help picturing his thick veiny cock pressed between him and the mattress, swollen and engorged, the head glistening with precum just begging to be licked. Garrick was by nature a heavy sleeper and after his long spell of late nights, she might have to pay him special lip service.  
He must have gotten back very late last night. Usually, she would wait up for him whenever he was running late, but since all the trouble with Natural Beauty began, Garrick had been forced to stay on later and later. After a week of these, her husband had finally told her to just go to bed if he wasn’t home by ten.  It was with great reluctance that she’d agreed, but only after she’d fallen asleep on the sofa while waiting for him two days in a row and been too groggy to perform her show the next day, and she never went to bed without leaving his dinner out and ready to go in the oven beside a loving note and explicit instructions on how to cook it. Alpha male or not, no one fucked with her kitchen. 
“Morning sleepy head.” Careful to keep her voice soft to avoid waking him too suddenly, she bent down to place a soft kiss on his brow. “Rise and shi-ahhh!”
In the time it took for one sleep-fogged emerald eye to flicker open, a long chiselled arm snapped out from under the covers to hook her waist and drag her in. The world spun. Softness rushed up to meet her back as she was all but entangled in the duvet. Then Garrick was on her, his mouth claiming hers, swallowing her surprised squeak as his tongue found hers.
There was nothing sluggish in the kiss. Nothing slow or tentative. Just hunger. Her husband kissed her like a man parched and starving, his tongue drinking her in, sliding over and around hers, flicking over the sides in soft teasing movements that made her toes curl and clit pulse. Heat erupts in her centre as his lips move against her, the sublime friction making her skin tingle as that sinful tongue teased her senses, mimicking the motions that could have her Cumming in moments. A silent, familiar promise that made her wet.




2 comments:

  1. Thank you for being our guest and good luck with all your future projects :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you for being a guest. It's nice seeing a male writer in such a female dominated world

    ReplyDelete