Monday, 20 October 2014

Blue Monday

Every Monday I post a naughty excerpt for your entertainment.

Woohooo! It's out on e-sale - the first novella in my Lovers' Wheel quartet! So here's a never-seen before snippet from Summer Seduction, a contemporary story of mystery and magic and increasingly kinky sex. My heroine Liz has been taken out, against her better judgment, to the village Midsummer Dance by the reckless Shane:

“Where’s the green guy?”

“The what?” He looked around, confused. “Them?—they’re back by the fire, I think.” He grinned suddenly. “It’s just you and me here.”

It took a moment for Liz to catch up with his meaning. Trying to control her pounding heart and her heaving lungs, she put her hand on his chest, feeling him warm and solid and real. Everything else—the Green Knight and the fire and the cattle and the village hall and the rest of her life—seemed flimsy and translucent in comparison. It was all too much to think about. So much easier to see only what was before her, within the grasp of her hands. She reached up to touch his warm throat, feeling the thrum of his blood.

“Liz,” he whispered.

She’d never known anyone like him. A man so full of life. It couldn’t be constrained; it flowed out of him like light, like fire. It burned.

“Liz,” he whispered again, leaning in so that his forehead rested gently against hers. His lips sought her own, soft and sweet and full of dangerous longing. She could taste the question on them. At the same time she could feel his hands on her hips. She could feel the hardness of the length that pressed against her through his jeans.

Do I want this? she asked herself. “Yes,” she whispered in answer. Yes—oh hell YES!

Gently he backed her up to the verge of the road, and then he stooped and slid his big hands around her ass and lifted her—light as a feather—to sit her down on a stone wall. It put them almost nose-to-nose, height-wise. He opened her legs and stepped between her knees so that he could kiss her again, this time deeper. Tongues met.

He tasted of cider and fire.

His hands were on her spread knees. His hands were under her skirt. His hands were up, up, all the way, fingertips to her hips, thumbs brushing and then stroking the silky cloth of her panties. The itch of need flared out from her clit until it seemed to set her whole body alight. She bit his lower lip, softly, panting.

Touch me. Touch me like that oh yes oh god a bit farther down oh please please PLEASE!

“Oh chrissakes Liz,” he groaned. “You know I want you, don’t you?

“Uh huh,” she groaned as his hands moved on her, his knuckles pressed and rubbed, his fingers probed.

“Really, really want you. You’re like… I want every bit of you—I want to get all over you…those gorgeous sweet tits of yours—your beautiful big arse—I could just…oh fuck you’re driving me crazy, Liz!”

It wasn’t exactly poetry and it wasn’t romantic, but it was entirely sincere, and Liz loved every hoarse and heartfelt syllable. She wound her arms around his neck and bit at his ear.

“Say yes, Liz, my sweet, my lovely.”


“Oh hell yes…”

“Here.” He started to tug at her panties. “Oh fuck. I can’t wait any longer.”

They were up a side street, on a wall, in the dark—so maybe they’d go unseen, though she could hear music and shouting still from the village green. At the moment it didn’t seem to matter much. There was a raging wet ache of need in her sex that didn’t want to wait either, and that knew it needed Shane to fill it. The whole reckless crazy night demanded culmination. “Have you brought protection?” she hissed.

“Huh?” Shane paused in his quest, her knickers already halfway down her thighs. “No…”

"Oh no,” she keened. And she forced herself to say it; “Then it’s not happening.” She wanted to scream with frustration. “Oh no, this is so not fair!”

“Wait. Wait.” He kissed her lips fervently. “It’s all right, my lovely, it’s all right.”

“No it’s not—when am I ever—?” When am I ever going to get a chance like this again?

“Shhh!” He gripped the back of her neck with one hand, pulling her mouth against his so that they panted together. His other hand, hidden beneath her bunched-up skirts, cupped her open pussy like an answer to prayer. Fingertips traced the wet slot, danced a circle about the slick nub of her clit, and set wildfire burning to light the midsummer night.

“Oh!” she whimpered, shocked.

“That’s sweet,” he whispered. “That’s good.”

She clasped his face like she was drowning and trying to cling to him, but her sight was glazing over already. The all-too-knowing, relentless tease of his fingers on her sex was more than she could bear. The waves of pleasure slithered over each other, rose, crashed, and rose again building higher.

“Oh god, Shane!”

“Give it up, my lovely, that’s right,” he urged her, low and thick in his throat. “Give it up to me.”
She knew she should say No. She knew she should be ashamed of being played with right here in the street, too turned-on to stop, her knees spread and jerking. She knew she should be ashamed that it wasn’t his bullish, boyish need that was overwhelming them both; he it wasn’t the one who couldn’t hold back; he wasn’t the one witless with arousal. It was her. She needed this.

She was the one who was wet.

She was the one swollen and slippery and shuddering with lust.

She was the one moaning into his mouth, making helpless animal noises that cascaded out of her open throat.

And then she was the one coming, shamelessly.

When the last of the tension had ebbed from her quivering frame, Shane kissed her again. “That’s right,” he told her.

“Oh god, Shane!” He’d robbed her of her senses. He’d made her do something she’d never dreamt of doing in public. Her whole body pulsed with the afterwash of her climax, and her dress clung to her damp skin.

His lips brushed the whorl of her ear. “Touch me, Liz,” he breathed, squeezing her juicy sex.


“Please, touch me.” There was dew on his upper lip. “I’m fucking begging you, my lovely.”

“This?” Liz dropped her hand to his groin, groping the thick length that pressed up against the denim. Shane groaned.

“Take it out. Go on. Touch it.”

Like an earth shock following a major quake, a spasm flickered through her, deep inside, just at the thought. She wanted to see the beastie that had been bruising her all night. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to strip him naked and run her hands over his lanky, wonderful body before it was too late and she lost her chance forever.

“Please,” he whispered, lost in his need.

Summer Seduction is available as an e-book download from Ellora's Cave

Sunday, 19 October 2014

It's all about that bass

This video sent my eyeballs into shock, first time.

Remember the days when a woman would be horrified at the thought of looking like she had a big ass?

Well, I do - but it seems like a lifetime ago, in another world. There has been a seismic shift in popular culture.
And I say hooray!

Friday, 17 October 2014

Halo there!

Well, I'm off to the fleshpots of London tomorrow for my joint book-launch reading with Kristina Lloyd! To which YOU are of course invited :-)

Please e-mail so they know numbers, if you are coming

Will I retain my virtue, or will my halo slip? Will the readings be inspirational or full of wickedness and sin? Who can possibly guess?

But if you can't make it, you can at least catch up on the Cover Him with Darkness blog tour:

"Monster Boyfriends and Demon Lovers" - over at Coffeetime Romance - is about struggling not to let my fallen angel become something even worse: a huge jerk.

"Wrangling Angels" - over at the lovely Kay Jaybee's - is about the source material I tried to use for the novel: "real" angel-lore from the Bible onwards. And about why I threw it at the wall.

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Out THIS WEEK: Fierce Enchantments and Summer Seduction

Writing is like waiting for a bus. You spend three years writing three books, submit them to three publishers in turn, and then due to the unfathomable variation in lead-in processes and scheduling between companies - ALL THREE GET PUBLISHED WITHIN A FEW WEEKS OF EACH OTHER.

At which point you either go mad trying to publicize them all, or throw your hands in the air and laugh hysterically.

Yes, hot on the heels of Cover Him in Darkness, I have two surprise e-book releases this week, which leaves me feeling like three buses have run me over arrived at once.

Fierce Enchantments: ten erotic tales of myth, magic and desire is available as a Kindle download right now! - and at £3.43 / $5.51 it's a bargain, no? (The paperback will be out in December for all us book-sniffers out there who love the beautiful Sweetmeats tomes so much, so you can pre-order too).

Against the darkest and most perilous backgrounds, the blaze of desire burns even brighter. Ten tales of magic and lust. 

Inside the covers of this, Janine Ashbless’ third collection of erotic short stories, you will find delight and terror and lust - and perhaps even unexpected tenderness.

The wayward daughter of Shakespeare’s sorcerer Prospero; a runaway slave who becomes king only for as long as he can stay awake; a servant girl whose three dead lovers return for one last tryst; vampire-hunters haunted to the point of madness by what they have been through; warriors in a desperate future war for the survival of humankind – and one very dangerous frog prince – all appear in this collection of erotic stories that will take you to the edge and then pull you over into the glittering darkness beyond. 
Weaving worlds of fantasy, Janine Ashbless draws from fairy stories, history, myth and the darkest depths of her imagination to bring you tales of passion and desire that will enchant, shock and dazzle you.

Amazon UK : Amazon US

And Summer Seduction, the first volume of my Lovers' Wheel quartet, is listed on Ellora's Cave for release this Friday!

 Shy and self-conscious librarian Liz Haven has lost her job and home, and is desperately grateful when a long-forgotten relative invites her to come live at her eerie old house in rural England. Liz hasn’t been there since childhood, and her memories of the place are strangely blurred. When she does return to Enniswitrin House she finds herself the focus for the attentions of a series of handsome but strange men, yet she also realizes that great-aunt Moira is far from the harmless old lady she seems. Moira has plans for Liz that she is not telling, and there is magic at work here. Real magic—dark and thrilling and primal as desire itself. Each of her would-be lovers needs something from Liz that goes deeper than just the hot and increasingly transgressive sex. Liz is being seduced into a role she could not imagine, at the center of a web of ancient legend and mystery that will change everything.

I am a bit dazed and confused right now. But you can look forward to excerpts here over the next couple of months as I find my feet again and dust off the road grit!

Monday, 13 October 2014

Blue Monday

Every Monday I post a rude excerpt for your entertainment.

Today there's an interview with me up at Justine Elyot's blog. Oh dear - she asked some questions that made me say a little more than I should have, perhaps ... 

Since I may have insulted the hell out of every Shifter fan out there, here in recompense is an excerpt from my own medieval werewolf story Renaissance. It appeared in my very first short story collection, Cruel Enchantment.

Annette spun in the night; luminous, beautiful. She was a goddess, the idol of countless prayers, her supplicants kneeling in turn to worship her. Her flesh was the recipient of a thousand kisses, a thousand heartfelt groans, a thousand caresses. Oblations were poured out before her and upon her, the scent of their liquid offerings perfuming the temple of her body. She shone. She received them all, turning none away.

They filled her, in every orifice. They soaked her in semen and sex-juices, pouring themselves one after another into and onto her. Her cunt was so filled with jusm that it ran down her thighs and arse in silvery streams and her pubic hair was wringing wet, twisting into little curls. Her mouth grew bruised and slack with accepting their rigid cocks. Her breasts and belly were coated with a sheen of drying semen. One man wrapped her long hair around his penis and jerked off, clotting her scalp with pale droplets.

She came, over and over. she thought she would grow numb or start to hurt, but instead waxed drunk upon pleasure and shuddered into climax after climax.

Gaspard was one of the first to mount her, crushing her buttocks flat against the rough blankets, biting at her lips and moulding her breasts in his greedy hands. He was unsubtle and unimaginative, but he was huge and he rode her as if he wanted to break her. She screamed, clawed and struck at him, took everything he had to give and sobbed in frustration when he left. The Chatelaine silenced her tears by sinking down on her face, smothering her cries. Annette had never tasted a woman before, and drank in her wetness with desperation, her tongue lost amongst formless folds of smooth flesh and wiry hair, almost choking on the sweet, musky juices that flowed as Marguerite bounched and wriggled into ecstacy. And Annette learned the taste of another dozen women before the hour was past.

When they had finished with her, the participants turned to each other for further play, rutting and writhing at the edge of her limited field of view. It seemed to Annette at one point that there were more wolves now than there had been to start with, but she was distracted by a human couple who straddled her head and fucked like dogs an inch from her face. Annette could see the thick root of the man's cock sliding in and out of the impossibly stretched hole of the woman, her juices coating his shaft, his balls hanging down like ripe fruit and brushing her own forehead and nose. She stretched her head up to lick the woman's exposed clitoris, felt her start to spasm, kissed and licked her way from that burning point up along the slithering ridge of the penis and to the wrinkled, tight pouch of the bollocks and back again. The woman climaxed loudly and the man followed in an instant, slamming into her split lips and then withdrawing to let the last jets of his come splatter down on Annette's face. The woman finished by sitting back on Annette, anointing her with a heady mixture of her and her lover's fluids. Annette drank it like wine.

As soon as she was released this time, Michel rolled her onto her front. Someone took her from behind, quick and slippery and panting, his balls slapping audibly against her pussy, and after he had finished another mounted her. Her first thought was that this man had an extraordinarily hairy chest and thighs - and then her second thought was a white streak of incredulity, but Michel held her down hard so that she couldn't wriggle round and look behind her. She buried her face in his thigh, half laughing and half sobbing, and pure shock wrenched another orgasm from her.

It was not enough. She kept climaxing, but each peak left her unsatisfied. Something knotted in her chest, a fist of frustration. If, she thought, if only she could come hard enough...

Amazon UK : Amazon US

Sunday, 12 October 2014

Cover Reveal: Summer Seduction

The first in the Lovers' Wheel quartet!

Shy and self-conscious librarian Liz Haven has lost her job and home, and is desperately grateful when a long-forgotten relative invites her to come live at her eerie old house in rural England. Liz hasn’t been there since childhood, and her memories of the place are strangely blurred. When she does return to Enniswitrin House she finds herself the focus for the attentions of a series of handsome but strange men, yet she also realizes that great-aunt Moira is far from the harmless old lady she seems. Moira has plans for Liz that she is not telling, and there is magic at work here. Real magic—dark and thrilling and primal as desire itself. Each of her would-be lovers needs something from Liz that goes deeper than just the hot and increasingly transgressive sex. Liz is being seduced into a role she could not imagine, at the center of a web of ancient legend and mystery that will change everything.

Out soon... and OH I like this cover!

Friday, 10 October 2014

Bermuda Triangle!

Well, the island of Bermuda was the reason I disappeared off the internet for a couple of weeks recently. You can't get connectivity there - at any rate that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it ;-)

I mean, how could this compete with Facebook for my time?

Yes,  I was off abroad again. Why Bermuda? Because of this:

And this:

And this:
So many shipwrecks!

Also, I have a friend who lives out there and I wanted to play Call of Cthulhu with him :-)

The shipwrecks explained

Bermuda is lovely:

Yeah, it pretty much all looks like this

Just beautiful:

Yay - weird phallic rocks!

And charming:

The whistling frogs sing loudly all night and the local people are the politest on the planet - you say "Good morning, how are you?" to everyone you meet. I mean everyone - I even had it lobbed at me by people getting off the bus as I was getting on. (Being British I went "Er, um, fine ... thank you," which was the wrong response.) I dread to think of the misery that awaits anyone born Bermudan who then goes out into the cold, ugly, unfriendly world the rest of the human race inhabits. On the other hand .... it is a little strange. It doesn't feel quite real.

Some of their socially conservative values need working on

Never mind. In the meantime it is paradise for tourists who like sun, sea and rum, in any combination. At eye-watering prices.

There were crystal caves:

There was a sea-cave in our hotel grounds you could swim in! A CAVE YOU COULD SWIM IN!!!

There were amazing exotic plants:


There's a lot of fascinating and rather unpleasant history involving convict ships, slavery, yellow fever epidemics, concentration camps and miscellaneous suffering that just goes to show that a beautiful view isn't everything:

St Catherine's Fort - one of NINETY on a twenty-mile-long island

Though it sure does count for something:

So blue! My eyes! My eyes!
And I had a wonderful time :-)

"Well hello sailor..."
But yes, I did have the Barry Manilow earworm in my head for two weeks...

Wednesday, 8 October 2014

Interview with an Angel

TWO Cover Him with Darkness notices:

There's an interview with my fallen angel Azazel over at K D Grace's blog. It appears as part of her "Things that go hump in the night" Octoberfest for Hallowe'een - there's a feast of spooky and supernatural posts all month, so do look round. 

Here's a  taster:

Hello everyone – I’m Janine Ashbless and today I’m delighted to announce that I have managed to blag an interview with Azazel, the hero of my new novel Cover Him with Darkness
 Azazel [smirks audibly]
 Janine: Er … I’m sorry? Did I say something wrong?
Azazel: Not at all. Please, do go on.
Janine: Okay … Azazel is, of course, a leader amongst the fallen angels. He was imprisoned under a mountain in the remotest part of southern Europe, and guarded there for millennia by a family who kept him secret until the last of that line, Milja, disobeyed the Divine command and risked her life and soul by letting him go free. You must be feeling pretty relieved then, Azazel?
 Azazel: That’s not the word I’d pick.
 Janine: Really? Okay – so how do you feel?
Azazel: Angry. Yes, that’s not inaccurate. Imagine you’d been tied up for five thousand years. That your wife and children had been slaughtered. That your brothers had all been incarcerated too, for the heinous crime of becoming sexually involved with humans. Then tell me that you wouldn’t be feeling a teensy tiny bit like burning Heaven to the foundations and pissing on the ashes.
More on KD's Blog!

Secondly, don't forget my book launch with Kristina Lloyd  at SH! in London! Free to come along and hear us reading, free bubbly, free cakes! The shop will be open for late browsing too, so we'd love to see y'all. This event is open to all but please e-mail 
so they know numbers coming. 

Full details here

Monday, 6 October 2014

Blue Monday

Every Monday I post a naughty excerpt for your entertainment.

Whilst I was away, Cover Him with Darkness CAME OUT!!! - it's available on Amazon even though the official paperback launch is still to come.
So here goes ... and the set-up for this scene is that, released now from his prison, the fallen angel Azazel is pursuing Milja through her dreams.

Amazon US : Amazon UK

It was a room full of international models. The women looked that way anyway, and I was sure that some of their faces were familiar from magazines. The men mostly just looked incredibly well-heeled and pleased with themselves. Both genders stood around holding cocktail glasses and laughing as they talked. Photographers prowled the crowd armed with oversized flashbulbs. Through open doors I could see an azure sea, but inside the room were full-sized palm trees and a colossal aquarium two stories high, in which sharks swam among brightly colored corals.

It looked like the champagne party of the year.

I walked through slowly, looking left and right. My own dress was bright scarlet and nearly floor-length, though it left my arms and a deep V of cleavage bare. The material was soft and clung to my thighs like silk kisses.

Azazel just didn’t like underwear, I was forced to accept.

I found him sitting in a leather armchair, talking to a group of people around a small table. He hadn’t bothered to get dressed up at all, but looked exactly as he had last time—which was enough to make my blood race. He beckoned me over, but there was no space for me to sit so he patted his knee. I perched obediently, and he drew me into his lap.

“Where are we?” I asked. Sitting like this, our heads were just about on a level. He slipped one hand over the small of my back, caressing me, and my spine arched like a cat’s.

“I’ve no idea. Some party. I thought you might like to try this very very expensive drink.” It came in a fluted glass and looked like champagne with little flakes of gold in it. It tasted like sunlight and went straight to my head with the first sip. “Nice?”

“Yes. Azazel…why me? Why do you want me?”

Just for a moment he took his attention off my body and looked me in the face. “What a strange thing to ask.”

“I mean, look at you. Look at you! You could have practically any woman here that you wanted, even without threatening to massacre her family or reduce her country to ash or whatever your usual chat-up line is. Really beautiful, clever women. Why me?”

“You think me devoid of all sentiment? You were there. You fed me. You freed me.”

I recalled only too well what Uriel had said about me feeding him. I wet my lips.

“What was your last girlfriend like?”

He watched my expression, smiling slightly. “A little shorter than you. Long red hair. Mismatched eyes—one brown, one green.” There was a glint of teeth beneath his lip. “Are you jealous of a woman dead five thousand years, Milja?"

“Hell no. I just…wondered.”

“She was an oracle, in a village on the edge of a great river. She would breathe the fumes of certain leaves and tell people what futures lay before them, and she would dance under the moon to call the wild ibex down from the steppe. I was…very fond of her.”

I wondered what the hesitation hid. He looked a lot calmer in this new dream, I thought, though his right hand was stroking my back and his left caressing my thigh in a way it was hard to ignore. I thought of his wild dancing Pythia and asked, “Did you have any children?”

The light went out of his eyes. “We had three.”

That shook me, for some reason. “What happened to them?”

“The boys were killed. The girl…I don’t know. I hope her mother hid her.” He put his face to my hair and inhaled. “Talk about something else.”

“I’m sorry.”

His fingers slid into the valley of my breasts and he kissed my temple.

“I met the Archangel Uriel.” It was the only conversation topic that I could bring to mind. Between neckline and navel my scarlet dress was held closed by loops of golden wire snagged over filigree toggles. Azazel was fiddling with the top one. For a moment he went still.

“Be careful of him.” His whisper was warm on my ear, but I couldn’t see his face. “He’s not your friend.”

“I worked that one out.”

The first loop fell open, revealing a little more of my cleavage. Azazel had me sat semi-facing the other people round the table. I wasn’t remotely interested in them, but I wondered if they were watching. A glance from under my lowered lashes told me they were, sort of, though carrying on their own conversations.

“Will he come after you?”

“What?” Azazel’s voice was lazy and full of husky tones that made me shiver. His lips brushed the whorls of my ear.

“Will the archangels come to lock you away again?”

“They might. Would you be sorry?”

I shuddered. There were hot and cold flashes running up and down my body, and I could feel the tight points of my breasts poking against the sheer fabric of the dress. A second loop slipped, and now my neckline was not just low but plunging.

Azazel celebrated by touching my nipple through the cloth and tracing a circle that made me whimper under my breath. “You like being watched,” he said.

“That’s not true.” My mouth had gone dry.

“You like me touching you in public.”

I was sweating lightly. It’s shame, I told myself, as he returned to the toggles and slipped a third. It’s shame, not excitement. The men around the table had mostly stopped talking now, their conversation stumbling to a halt. A woman giggled.

“Please,” I whispered, closing my eyes.

“I own you,” he said. “You are mine. These are mine. If I want to…I will bare you in front of everyone, Milja. And you will let me.”

He tugged the slash of my dress open—just a little, not enough to be obscene—and slipped a hand beneath to play with my breast. Just fingertips. My nipple felt like a blazing sun as he traced orbits. “What’re you doing, man?” someone said weakly. “That’s not right.” “Azazel!” I whimpered.

“Do you want them to see, Milja?” His voice, thick with lust now, was hot against my ear. “Do you want them all to see how you belong to me? I will let them look at your breasts. Then I will pull up your dress and put my hand between your legs and make you come. You won’t be able to stop me. You won’t be able to stop yourself. All these people will see.”

“Smile everyone!” A burst of light went off beyond my closed lids.

I looked. I couldn’t help it. The little cluster of socialites at the table were blinking and staring and didn’t know where to put themselves. Two photographers stood before us, and another flash went off capturing the whole group.

“Hey,” said one of the paparazzi, realizing what was going on under his nose and suddenly focusing in on Azazel and me in our big armchair. “We have seen.”

I didn’t have the wits left to wonder at his odd phrasing.

“You’re mine,” the fallen angel growled. Then he let his fingers drift out from their nest, catching the cloth as they went. He revealed my left breast in full, my nipple haloed in pink like a rising sun.
Flashguns exploded.

He took the loose cloth at my shoulders and drew my open dress off, baring me from throat to waist. Back straight, eyes lowered, blushing and shuddering, I sat upon his lap and knew myself owned.

Amazon US : Amazon UK  (the paperback is released at the end of the month in the UK)

Sunday, 5 October 2014


The results of exposing pasty English skin to sunlight for one morning's snorkelling...

Sunday, 21 September 2014

Gone swimming

Because that's what any sensible author does when her books are coming up to release...
Back online in October!

Friday, 19 September 2014

Phenology - September

Warm September brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.

"The Umbelliferae have died back to sticks." I couldn't find a rhyme for that.

It has been warm this September. Very little rain. The trees are starting to look a bit tired and droopy - hinting at autumn colours but not quite there yet. Maybe by the end of the month...
But the adult crane flies (daddy-longlegs) are tunneling out from under the grass and bumbling despairingly around inside houses and cars, before leaving awkward corpses scattered on every surface. And that's a sure sign that summer is over.

There is an odd (modern) piece of folklore about daddy-longlegs: that they are the most venomous arthropod/creature in the country ... but we are saved because their mouthparts are just too feeble to bite humans. I imagine them gnashing their little mandibles in frustration and weeping poisonous tears. 

Fortunately, none of this is true :-)

The real natural phenomenon of September is apples:


And more apples:

Associated in legend with forbidden knowledge, eternal youth, temptation and sin, female sexuality (that seems to follow on from the former, huh), love magic ... where do I start?

Statue of  Alan Turing in Manchester

Never mind - someone has already done it :-)

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Catching up

The new Hungarian cover of the Thrones of Desire anthology :-)

Release Dates:

Cover Him With Darkness has been put back slightly - the official launch date is now 1st November but there will be what they call a soft launch (i.e. the book will actually be for sale) earlier: Amazon listings suggest 14th October.

Fierce Enchantments is set for an e-book release mid-October, with paperbacks to follow late November/ early December.

Fifty Shades of Green:

Fifty Shades of Green is in paperback - Look at my loverly box o' books! I've been sending these review copies out to previously smut-free zones like BBC Gardeners' World and the Royal Horticultural Society. There will be quaking amongst the petunias.

New Anthology:

As Kinky as You Wanna Be is a forthcoming BDSM guide book that addresses practical issues of safety and good etiquette and how not to make your partner run for the hills. It's edited by Shanna Germain and is going to be goddamn brilliant. It also contain some inspirational pieces of fiction, including an excerpt from my story Jump or Fall? which originally appeared in Sweet Love (ed Violet Blue) - the most badly misnamed and mis-marketed erotica/kink anthology ever.

Jump or Fall? is a story I'm particularly proud of - it addresses the issue of responsible sadism in a  kink relationship, and made me nervous to write ... which is usually a good sign. I'm really glad it's getting a second chance.

As Kinky as You Wanna Be will be out in November.

Monday, 15 September 2014

Not so blue Monday

Guess who posted an excerpt yesterday instead of today, as part of the the Snog for Sommer fundraiser?

Sunday instead of Monday?! Has the world gone MAD? Is there no end to the chaos?!