Friday, 29 March 2013

Flash Fiction Friday for Easter

Here is some Easter flash fiction for you and it follows on from the free read last Christmas. Read down to the end and you, the reader, gets a change to participate in this story!

Easter Delight
Copyright Jennifer Denys 2013

Club Surrender was having an Easter special. Lucy wondered how ‘Easter’ and BDSM could possibly be related as she walked toward the club’s doors.
Not only was it a ‘special’, it was also an open event for beginners—hence why she was finally stepping foot over the threshold of a venue that had intrigued her for years as she passed it daily to and from work. She had considered entering before, but wasn't sure of the wisdom of going in by herself.
Unfortunately, she had no friends that she could ask to go with her. It wasn’t that she didn’t have plenty of friends, it was just if they knew where her desires lay, they would be horrified.
She sighed and passed through the doorway and was greeted by a friendly receptionist wearing a normal summer dress. The smiling was a good sign and heartened Lucy, but she did feel rather overdressed now in her red leather corset and bandeau skirt that was so skimpy she could have worn it as a hairband over her blonde hair.
The receptionist signed her in and pointed to a door on her right. Lucy hesitated for a moment wondering what took place behind the door on her left and then decided she didn’t want to know. At least, not yet. The sound of someone being tortured seemed to come from that room. Or maybe it was her over-active imagination. But at the same time her panties started to feel distinctly wet.
Pushing open the door on the right Lucy was greeted by another smiling attendant.  A beautiful girl with long black hair wearing a bunny girl outfit complete with bunny ears. She began to relax. The girl’s white basque wasn’t that different from her corset.
“Hi. My name is Angela. Are you here for the Easter event?”
“Um, yes.”
“Excellent. Dom or sub?”
Oh shit! What should I say? She had no experience of either, but suspected she was a sub at heart as she was somewhat shy. On the other hand the idea of spanking a nice firm male bum definitely aroused her juices.
“Er, I have no idea. How does anyone decide?”
“That’s all right, honey. This is a beginner’s event so you can be whatever you want. Or just watch.”
“Watch!” That came out of her mouth so fast Lucy startled herself, and then immediately regretted it. Having got through the doors she really wanted to participate.
Angela chuckled. “That’s fine. Just wander around and observe. If you feel like taking part at any time just come and see me and I’ll pass on some rules. The Easter Egg table is over there. Daffodil Whipping comes later. At the back is Rabbit Love. And in the other room is the Basket Weaving.
“E—Easter Egg table?”
Lucy was turned around and gently pushed in the correct direction. “Go and look.”
The table in question held a dark haired naked woman with lovely big breasts tied spread-eagled to the furniture. Well, sort of naked. She was lying on her back on the table and her body was covered with bits of chocolate. Surrounding her were several people all of whom were eating the chocolate from her body. They all had their hands behind their backs so they could only eat the chocolate by bending forward and gathering it in their mouths.
As her eyes widened in astonishment, Lucy started salivating. She wasn’t sure if it was the sight of people gobbling down the sweet treat or the moans coming from the woman as people licked the rapidly melting chocolate from her body.
One man had his head over the apex of girl’s legs and was licking her shaven pussy clean. Very clean from the looks of it. He was certainly enjoying his meal. Meanwhile, a woman was further up the table making sure every drop of chocolate was gone from the girl’s now very wet, and very hard, nipples. The sound of surpling came from the woman's mouth as her mouth left a nipple. A third person was laughing as he nibbled the girl's stomach trying to get a wayward piece of chocolate into his mouth.
A particularly loud cry came from the squirming girl and she arched her back suddenly causing the remaining pieces of chocolate to jump off her body and fall to the table while the three people all stepped back in surprise.
“Julie!” cried the tall red-headed man at her legs.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll try to stay still, but it's really difficult with everything you're all doing to me.”
As more chocolate was placed on Julie’s body the Doms around her continued their delicious assault on her body with eagerness. Lucy wasn't sure what she liked looking at more. The looks on their faces as they attacked her or the trembling body of the girl beneath them. 
Lucy swiftly moved away and within seconds she was standing in front of Angela again.
“I want a go.”
Angela grinned. “Thought you would. Do you want to continue at the Easter Egg table or one of the other activities?"
Lucy bit her lip as she considered what might take place at the daffodil whipping event, or even what basket weaving could possibly be.
"Can I try the others later?"
"Sure. So the next question is do you want to take Julie’s place or just eat the chocolate from her? In other words, did you want to be tied to the table and submit your body to others or be one of those in control eating the chocolate?
Oh, what a choice! What will she choose?................

Hope you enjoyed that. You decide which Lucy will be, Dom or sub (or even switch!!) – leave a comment saying which. If Dom is the most popular then Lucy will be a Dom or vice versa. You have until the end of Easter Sunday to decide!!


Wednesday, 27 March 2013

Wednesday Writing - Just Good Friends

Just Good Friends is out for Retro Release on Bookstrand!

This was my very first book (gosh that seems like a long time ago now!!) and it is available in a variety of ebook formats including PDF at 50% off for the next three weeks!!

This is the blurb:

When Sam accidentally discovers Jessie’s secret stash of erotic romances, he is astounded but fascinated, so he pretends to be interested in this genre to persuade his shy best friend to start discussing her favorite erotic romances instead of their usual sci-fi.

Then, at one of their discussions, Sam stuns Jessie by suggesting they try out for real a scenario they are reading. Not having had a lover for fifteen years but intrigued to see where this will go, she agrees. So they begin to investigate various aspects that appear in the books, such as bondage, spanking, sex toys, etc.—not always with the same effect the author intended. Some laughs ensue, some tears, and lots of improvisation.

As they continue their explorations, Sam relishes his role as the dominant sexual while Jessie gains confidence in her sexuality. Soon, they realize they are more than just good friends.


Monday, 25 March 2013

Erotic Writers' Lunch - a date with Morgan King

I met up with new writer, Morgan King, last week. New because she is a new writer - her first book was out just last month (more on that below) but also new because we hadn't met before, having only had conversations on Facebook.

We joked about wearing a flower so we could recognise each other. However, the only thing flowering in my garden was a snowdrop which was drooping by the time she arrived so I quickly discarded it!

It was lovely to have a long chat over lunch, particularly as we are both English women working for American/Canadian publishers - we both work for Evernight, and I am also with Siren - so could commiserate about having to write our stories using American spelling, 
despite having set some of our books in England. I'm sorry, but colour and favourite should always be spelled with a U in it!

Morgan recently met up with some other Evernight writers living in England (Doris O'Connor, Michaela Rhue and Ella Gray) having discovered there are several living in the 
east of England where she lives - that is SO not fair! Why can't one of them live in Yorkshire! LOL. I hope to join them down there some time.

So we talked a lot about our writing. Morgan's book 'Duty to Love' (available to buy from Amazon) is an historical story so I asked her whether she had to do a lot of research or was concerned about getting the details wrong - both of which have put me off writing an historical story. However, Morgan has read a lot of historical stories and feels comfortable writing in this genre. And anything she isn't sure about she left out! She also added that she is sure she is bound to make the odd mistake but for her it is about the reader's enjoyment so hopefully anything she writes is convincing enough that it doesn't spoil their enjoyment.

Anyhow, this is the blurb: A craftily worded contract and fate finds Arthur, Earl of Hentonury, having to marry not the lady he expected but her younger sister Amelia, the woman he knows his brother James loves and hoped to marry. Arthur cares for both Amelia and James, so how can he choose between his love for them and his duty? James may be the younger son, but he has taken leave from the army and will fight for Amelia. Torn between her feelings for two brothers, Amelia wishes to marry Arthur but can't bear to lose James. Is there any chance the three of them can find happiness together? Will duty or love win out?

She plans to write more in that series, although would like to branch out into paranormal and futuristic. I was a little stunned when she told me she had read my two sci fi stories before she became a writer. I then put her on the spot, poor woman, when I asked what she thought of them. She said she liked them and if she had rated them she would have given 
them four out of five stars. Bless her. I have no idea if she was being very kind but it was nice of her to say that - my  sci fi books have had mixed ratings!

Since then she has been writing some short stories, but doing a day job and with family, she suffers the same problems as me of getting motivated. Having a word count limit each day as some writers so is not something either of us want to do as we feel it takes the fun out of writing and it becomes a chore.

Morgan seems to have avoided the dreaded new author error of head hopping that many new authors fall into (myself included) but we laughed over having to remove the semi colons from our stories - my first editor told me that it is too distracting for the reader!!!

We talked about tons and tons more like getting reviews. So far all her reviews are from people she knows. I often wonder what percentage of our readership are actually other writers, after all, we chose write this genre because we read it first. I certainly didn't get my first fan email from someone I didn't know for eight months after my first book was out. Since then I've gained some lovely fans who seem to adore my stories!
Maybe our meeting means we can inspire each other to get in front of our computers and write more for our fans!! If you want to know more about Morgan she can be contacted on the links below.

Twitter: Morgan King @EroticWritings


Wednesday, 20 March 2013

Wednesday Writing

I am making myself some ‘motivation cards’. I will pick a card each day and the word on it is intended to motivate me for the day or give me something to work towards. So to start with I have taken the words from the titles of all my published books (ignoring The, And, etc):

  • Challenge (I like the sound of that)
  • Chasing (hmm – who shall I chase? *evil grin*)
  • Collared (wear a collar to work for a day)
  • Emily (don’t know anyone called Emily. Maybe I should spend the day calling everyone Emily. Hahaha!)
  • Foe (hmm – will have to regard that one as be nice to enemies!!!)
  • Friendly (that sounds good – I shall be friendly to everyone for the day)
  • Friend(s) (that will be get in touch with old friends day)
  • Good (oh God, do I have to be good??)
  • Just (hmm, be fair to someone, give them the benefit of the doubt maybe?)
  • Last (make a bar of chocolate last the day, maybe?)
  • Retraining/Training (must check out/research something new)
  • Seduction (ooo, I like the sound of this one. Who can I seduce?)
  • Sub/Submission/Submissive (I do try to be submissive – I am very trying!)
  • Switched (Ah! Does this mean I can be dominant for the day?)
  • Three (oh, that one has to be buy three crème eggs or something like that J)
  • Werewolf/wolves (help??? Maybe do a flash fiction about a werewolf?)
  • Wife (no idea what to do with this one since I am not one! Maybe do something wifely like bake some cookies!!!!!)


Monday, 18 March 2013

Inspirational Mondays

Since I became an author 18 months ago I have made SO many friends through the various writing groups. Some are readers but many are other authors.

As you know if you read my blog last Autumn I went out to Finland and the States to meet up with three of them. 

But I have also had coffee/lunch dates with several others within the UK.

And then there are lots of friends I have never met but get on well with online.

However, tomorrow I am meeting up with another new writing friend, Morgan King who writes for Evernight Publishing. I will tell you more about Morgan next week.


Friday, 15 March 2013

Friday First Chapters

Here is another first chapter, the first in the 'Retraining' series. (Retraining the Dom is being written as we speak!)

If you like what you read and want to buy the full book it is available on the publisher's website in a variety of e-book formats including PDF or on Amazon.

Here is a review from 'Long & Short of it erotic reviews': The tension in Retraining the Sub was well done. The trust and abandonment issues were prevalent and you could see how early events in the book shaped the character growth of Lucas and Ann. The fact that they both ended up at the same club trying to work out their issues was interesting, as were the exercises Lucas put Ann through to strengthen her skills as a sub. The dialogue was strong and the sex scenes were terrific. Writer Jennifer Denys did an excellent job of expressing to the reader exactly what was taking place, especially in the ménage scene.

The cover art on this book was absolutely yummy. Master Lucas clad in leather pants, a studded belt and a single tail whip was sexy and made me want to read this book before I even knew what it was about. Sour Cherry Designs did a superb job.

If bratty subs and the Doms that tame them are your game, then Retraining the Sub will be right up your alley.


Evernight Publishing
Copyright© 2012 Jennifer Denys


            “Will you, Ann, take Luke to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him…”
Her mind was chaotic with thoughts connected to the man who stood by her side. Luke. Charming, good-looking, funny, sweet Luke—her soon-to-be husband. But can I really marry him?
“… honor and protect him, and forsaking all others, be faithful…”
Can I be faithful to him for the rest of our lives?
“… to him as long as you both shall live?”
It wasn’t that she had ever been attracted to anyone else. The question was more whether she loved Luke enough. Yes, he was everything she had ever dreamed of in her twenty-one years. Standing there in her beautiful, if elaborate, dress that wasn’t quite her own choice, the church swamped with pink flowers that her mother had decided on, she glanced at her father broadly beaming with paternal pride on one side of her, his hand on her elbow, controlling her, and Luke on the other side, Ann began to have serious doubts. Even though Luke was handsome, looking tall and lean in his wedding suit, his blond hair curling slightly over the collar, she still started to panic.
“Ann?” She barely heard the voice speaking to her, so engrossed was she in her thoughts.
Luke was a little nervous, too. She could tell from his trembling and the anxiety in his voice. Is this enough for me? Is he enough for me, or do I want more? But what exactly do I want? Was she just marrying him to get away from her parents? It was a question that she was trying to ignore.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
She finally looked up to see her fiancé frowning at her with a slightly bemused look, and a stronger frown coming from the minister.
“It’s your turn, Annie. You have to say I will.”
Luke chuckled gently at her hesitation. She wished she could explain the state she was in. Why now did she have second thoughts? Was it the thought of being with him for the rest of her life, and having to vow this? But there wasn’t anyone else she had ever loved, so why at this moment?
“Ann!” Her father spoke in a loud whisper that would have been almost amusing if this had been a television comedy, except that was his usual tone of voice with her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and everyone smiled with relief in their faces, clearly thinking she was apologizing for her lack of attention. She turned to Luke, wondering how she could tell him.
His beautiful blue eyes went round. He could now clearly see there was a problem. She guessed the distress she felt was echoed on her face. He looked alarmed, and she saw him swallowing anxiously.
“I—I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.” She choked back a cry at the anguish in Luke’s lovely face, and, closing her ears to her mother’s horrified shout, Ann threw down her bouquet, and grabbing the skirt of her dress, she ran out of the church, not looking back to see if the man she loved was following, if the man she had thought she loved enough to marry was upset. The man whose lovemaking was gentle, sweet and tender, and always left her a little disappointed. She expected something more. She didn’t know what, just that it was hovering there, waiting for her, taunting her, and it never came.
            Sitting in the lounge of her new apartment, Ann looked around her.
Part of her was wondering if she had just made the biggest mistake of her life jilting Luke, leaving him at the altar. Without a second thought she had flung off her dress, pulled on some casual clothes, and, grabbing a bag, she had run away. Here she was, over a hundred miles from home, having got on the first train out of town—a place she had rarely left other than on holidays—and left behind her childhood in a cloud of dust.
She was amazed at her own temerity in simply finding a waitressing job and now a place to live all within a few days. All her life she had been controlled by the demands of her parents, her school teachers, and to some extent, Luke. But she had happily gone along with their expectations, until one day it just wasn’t enough. And she had no idea what had caused such a revelation—probably the discussion between her father and Luke about where they were going to live without asking her. She looked at Luke and saw him turning out to be just like her father. Or maybe it was her mother wittering on to Luke’s mother about grandchildren, when actually what Ann wanted was a life of her own first of all. But she bitterly regretted having done it that way—for the pain she must have put Luke through. She bit back a sob.
            That was enough to drag her out of the doldrums as she sat in the armchair of her new home. She reminded herself that she had chosen to give up her old life, which had been controlled by others, for something intangible, but that at the same time exciting. She got to do what she wanted.
Her new roommate, Pearl, had been quite an eye-opener. She had sounded fairly normal on the phone, very chatty and animated, but when she answered to door to show Ann around, Ann’s jaw had dropped. Pearl wasn’t much older than Ann, probably twenty-two, but her face was made up to the tilt with bright red lipstick, and eyes heavily ringed in black. But her clothes—well, Ann could hardly tear her eyes away. Pearl was wearing a black and red corset barely covering her nipples, and her breasts looked like they were about to burst over the top. She also had on what Ann felt was a left-over tutu from a ballet class, although this one was black. Beneath that were sheer black stockings and red high heels with at least five inch stilettos.
            “Ann, darling. How are you settling in? Look, sweetie, I am off out in a mo. My Dom will be here to pick me up. You’re all right on your own, aren’t you?”
            “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. Your what?”
            Pearl giggled. “My Dom. My Master. You know.” She touched the dog collar around her throat. “I’m a submissive.”
            If Ann thought her jaw had dropped to the ground on meeting Pearl, it certainly did now.
            The doorbell rang. “That’s him. Bydie, bye, lovely.”
Ann watched stunned as Pearl left with the man she called her Dom. Submissive? Oh. My. God. Ann had heard about people like that. Don’t they get whipped and flogged and have sex in clubs and stuff like that? There was no way she could do anything like that. Could she?
So, why were her panties suddenly wet?

Chapter One
Eight years later

            “Please, Master Lucas?”
            He ignored the pleading of the submissive who was rubbing herself against his body as they sat watching the evening’s events in the BDSM club called Allure. He was getting irritated with her, as he had for some time now. Her nearly naked body, covered only in a pink basque attached to similarly vivid stockings, was sinuously plastering itself against him and making no impact on his limp cock. Not even when a hand reached down to fondle him did he have any interest in her. Instead he firmly moved her hand away.
            “Master, can I take you in my mouth?”
            “Tracey! Are you trying to get yourself a punishment?” Her eyes lit up. Christ. He might have known it with Tracey. She was a pain slut.
            She practically threw herself facedown across his lap, her nude buttocks available for him to punish as he wished. “Thank you, Master.”
            He sighed and swore. This was the last thing he wanted to do, and he wondered when exactly he had stopped enjoying punishing his subs. It used to be the thing he enjoyed the most, the reason that he had originally taken part in the BDSM lifestyle. It had almost been an epiphany when he had attended a club that first time, so astonishing had it been, so right, so what he had needed to assuage his demons, that he had gone on to become a Dom, and then a Master. In all the six years he had been a Dominant he had had many subs, never taking anyone permanent for more than a few months. And Tracey had been with him for four months. It was clearly time to dump her.
Smirking, he looked at the bare bottom on his lap, and raised a hand high in readiness to give the brat the spanking she deserved. When his hand came down on her she squealed. It didn’t stop him. That was usual with her. Tracey was always very vocal. He continued his slaps hitting the tops of her thighs as well as her buttocks over and over.
After a while she started crying out, “Please, Master, enough.” But he knew it was never enough for her, and that was the problem. It just meant she was thoroughly enjoying herself, and actually wanted more. He needed his subs to bow down under the weight of his punishment, not beg for further hits. For a few moments he considered taking Tracey into one of the “scene” rooms, and giving her a proper thrashing with a cane, or whip, or something. He frowned, trying to remember why he had taken her on as his sub, and recalled that there had been no-one else available when his previous one decided she had had enough. All the ones in Allure had otherwise been collared by Doms. Bizarrely there had appeared to be no unattached ones that night, apart from Tracey, so after a few weeks he had reluctantly taken her on.
 Suddenly bored with the girl, he pushed her off his lap. “Go away and annoy someone else.”
She wailed. “Masterrrrr.”
When she crawled between his legs trying to grip his cock he had had enough. He stood up taking a step back, the legs of his chair scraping on the floor as he moved away from her, his voice hard and fed up. “I don’t want you, Tracey. I’ve had enough of you. We’re finished. Find yourself another Dom.”
Leaving his infuriated ex-sub on the floor he stalked over to the bar. Unfortunately they only sold soft drinks at the bar in order to avoid unsafe practices taking place on the premises if one should get drunk. But he really could do with a glass of something strong about now. Glancing back he could see Tracey wasn’t irritated for long, because she had already started moving toward Master Ken. Luke grinned as he saw Cathy, Ken’s regular sub—and his wife—storming over in their direction.
A hand clapped his shoulder. Turning around he saw it was Sean, the owner of Allure. “You’ve had enough of the girl then,” Sean said, nodding in Tracey’s direction.
“Yes.” His voice was weary as he admitted this. He was tired of this life, of BDSM, of women. Suddenly he yearned for a normal girl, preferably one with light brown, wavy hair, and brown eyes, just like his ex. Then he shook his head at the direction his thoughts had taken. Well, that was never happening again. If he ever caught up with her he’d be thrown in prison for murder.
“I’m kind of surprised you stopped.”
Luke looked around at Sean’s strange statement. “Why d’you say that?”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you joined us a year or so ago, and you’ve had a tendency lately to lay into Tracey quite violently. I know she loves her pain, but, actually, you’ve always been hard on any sub you’ve been with. I was considering asking you to take part in the training/retraining program that we have, which is for Doms as well as subs. Anyway, I’m glad to see you knew when to stop this time, but do think about the program.”
 As Sean left him to deal with a situation in the other room, Luke wanted to ask what the option was if he didn’t think about the program. He looked after him, annoyed at the suggestion that he couldn’t control himself, but then he ruefully admitted to himself that he had gone too far with Tracey on a couple of occasions. Okay, more than a couple, but she could rile him into hitting her just as she wanted very easily. And he was always happy to punish a woman.
He didn’t used to be like that. He had been drawn into this lifestyle because of everything his ex had done to him. He tightened his fingers around his glass, wanting to smash it into the wall as he remembered the feeling of standing at the altar watching her as he tried to take in the words she had spoken. He remembered them well. They weren’t the ones he had been expecting, instead it was, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He hadn’t a clue what she was referring to initially, and then she had run down the aisle away from him, leaving him absolutely stunned.
When he had tried to follow her he had been kept back by people suddenly surrounding him, despite his desperate struggle to get past them—her parents, his family, the minister, the many bridesmaids. When he had finally got past them all, he had rushed to their new home to find Ann and get an explanation, but discovered that she had scarpered. No note, no reason, no enlightenment, just the echo of her words, “I’m sorry.”
And he had been on cloud nine that morning about to marry the girl he had loved to distraction for several years, who he thought had also loved him the same way, and would for the rest of their lives.
As he recalled her face Lucas heard her voice. It was so clear it was like she was in the same room. Damn her. Why does she always have to be there in the back of my mind? He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
“I’m sorry, not today.”
He spun around, and there on the other side of the room was a woman, standing with her back to him talking to a man who moved away from her, clearly annoyed by her response.  She sounded just like Ann—his ex, the woman who had left him at the altar, and who was the reason he had consequently taken up BDSM as a way of getting his own back on women in general. All because of her. Every time he punished a woman for some wrong-doing, it was Ann he was thinking about, Ann he was disciplining.
Quickly stepping back into the shadows at the side of the bar so that the girl didn’t see him, he continued to watch her, and saw her jerk around to look in his general direction with a frown. He moved a step toward the wall, but she turned back, clearly not having seen him.
It was Ann, at least, an older Ann.
What on earth is she is doing here of all places? How come he had never seen her in the club before?
Unable to take his eyes off her, he soaked up the changes in her over the last eight years. Her hair was no longer the lovely light brown color he remembered, the color of milk chocolate, but, instead, it was now an almost brassy honey-blonde. She also didn’t have the lovely long, naturally wavy tresses of before. It was deathly straight—the flatness a women achieves when she uses hair straighteners. It now fell to just below her shoulders, and not to her waist like it used to. He cocked his head to one side as he considered the new Ann. It was all right. He could get used to it. Sometimes her hair had used to get trapped beneath their bodies, and he had nothing against blondes. Tracey had been one, after all.
He stood stunned for at least ten minutes as he studied her, raking his gaze over her body, noting the changes that eight years had wrought. Other than her hair she was slightly heavier, her butt and breasts rounder. But then that might be from the clothes she was wearing, which showed off every curve. Luke stared in amazement at the tight mini-skirt, which rounded her butt, and then he glanced down her shapely legs. Legs that were no longer schoolgirl-thin, but looked amazing in the black high-heeled shoes she was wearing. That was incredible in itself, and his eyebrows rose as he leered at the curve of her calves and ankles. There was something about a woman wearing heels that made her look so sexy. Well, if nothing else it would make it easier to kiss her. He grinned. He had always had to bend down a lot as she had only ever worn flat shoes when he knew her, and she was ten inches shorter than he. Flat shoes, dresses below her knees and her shoulders covered demurely, he recalled clearly. Not like this Ann who was wearing a black sleeveless top that looked two sizes too small, and molded to her torso finishing just above her navel. He hadn’t got much of a look when she had turned around before, but he was sure she hadn’t been wearing a bra.
Into his vision came Sean, striding toward the bar having dealt with the incident, so Luke urgently beckoned him over. As he walked in his direction Sean looked over his shoulder at the object of Luke’s gaze.
“Who are you looking at? Oh. That’s Annabel.”
Annabel!  Luke frowned at her choice of BDSM name. It was the name he had called her when they had made love. Why on earth would she use that, other than the obvious connection to having sex?
“How come I’ve never seen her in here before, or is she new?” His calm voice belied his excitement, an eagerness he hadn’t had in some time.
As he said this he pondered how long Ann had been into BDSM, and felt his body tense at the thought of other men touching his girl. He chortled to himself wryly. Not his anymore, clearly. Now she was any man’s. Or did she have a particular Master? Did she have someone who spanked her butt when she disappointed him? That made Luke angry. He wanted to be the one to punish her. Oh, he so wanted to get his hands on her backside, preferably with a leather-knotted whip.
“Oh, she’s been a sub here for years, but you used to come on a different night. This is her usual night—always had been.”
That told him lots. That she was a regular, and not just a visitor, and that she had been into BDSM for a long time. That was almost unbelievable. At least for the Ann he had known. Coming back to a previous query, it also explained why he had never seen her before. He used to come on Saturdays, but had changed to Fridays when Tracey had new shifts at the hospital.
He asked the question he really wanted to know while trying to sound dispassionate, “So does she have a Dom? I don’t see a collar on her.”
Sean gasped and stared at him. “For God’s sake, don’t even think it. She’s not for you.”
Luke felt fury at that, at being denied her yet again. “Why not?”
“Oh, not just you, no-one wants her. She is the most difficult sub we have.” Sean emphasized the word “difficult”.
Raising his eyebrows, Luke was somewhat stunned. He laughed wryly. “Why, what’s she done?” He knew exactly what she had done to him, but he wanted to know why others found her challenging. And she used to be such a sweet, biddable girl! This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. Suddenly all his weariness was gone, and he had a new vigor rushing through his body that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Not to mention his cock was hardening as it hadn’t in months.
“She keeps misusing her safe word. She has so many limits neither she, nor any Dom, gets any fun out of their scenes. As soon as it gets a tad too hot for her she cries wolf.”
Sean sounded so irritated Luke couldn’t help but chuckle.
Shaking his head in wry amusement, Sean said, “She’d run a mile from you.”
Luke started and swiveled around to stare at him, narrowing his eyes as he did, but then he realized that Sean didn’t know of his past history with Ann. He was just referring to Luke’s reputation with subs.
But he was now very intrigued, wanting to know everything there was about Ann, and what sort of person she had become since she had left him, so he asked, “So why does she come here then? Why be a sub?” Now that was something he’d give anything to know.
“I have no idea.” Sean’s response was so dramatic that Luke had to laugh out loud. But when Sean went on again he stopped instantly. “She is one of those we’re thinking of putting through the retraining program.”
Luke looked at Sean intently, a buzz of excitement quickening in him, and then he turned his head to stare over at Ann. He grinned. He so hoped that Sean would put her into the program. It sounded like he would be the only person prepared to take her on. And he would certainly be delighted to retrain her. Oh, indeed he would.

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Wednesday Writing

Collared by Wolves is now available to buy at Amazon. That is the link to the site for the kindle version but it is also available on IN ADDITION, it is also available in paperback on This is the first time I have had an individual title go into print :)

Here is a reminder of the story:

Natasha Talbot, an ordinary human wanting more out of life, ventures into a forest where a club is holding submissive trials, not knowing this is where werewolves practice BDSM.

While at the club Natasha is fought over by two lots of men. Griff Seamer is an alpha werewolf with a reputation for being a rogue. He doesn’t hesitate taking on Ford Chaplin, Max Holman and Callum Lane, three beta wolves who formed a pack as a way of getting the submissive women at the club who normally prefer the alpha men.

During the fight Natasha becomes aware of their shifter natures and runs away. But is she more frightened by the BDSM or their animal aspects? Determined to try again she returns a few nights later, but when she is kidnapped by a pack who like the darker side of BDSM her four men realize they have to work together to rescue her. 

Monday, 11 March 2013

Inspirational Mondays - Eroticon Day Two

Eroticon day two started with a session on Polyamory run by two women who are in a relationship with a man they both love (but are not sexually involved with each other, although they are good friends). It was a fascinating insight into their lives, although I took their point that there are various types of non-monogamous relationship which include people called ‘swingers’ who are still emotionally faithful to each other.

In the next session entitled ‘Getting the language of sex right’ we were put into groups and each group had to look at a different issue – ours was how people with disabilities were viewed in porn and all of us agreed that the people we see in porn are usually white, young, fit, fairly good goodlooking without a single disability!

In ‘Storytelling and sex’ the panel, which included sex educators, asked us writers to include healthy and positive sex messages in our stories. When we recalled our own sex education classes at school we all agreed that it was too shor, with little information about sexuality, just covering how to avoid getting pregnant or getting SDIs.

The BDSM tools of the trade was my favourite session of the day. The lovely Molly and Michael (a sub and Dom, also husband and wife) brought in tons of implements they use. The ones I were intrigued by were the ones I hadn’t come across before – such as an iron rod. When used to roll over the skin after a flogging the cold metal on the hot skin causes an intense sensation. Similarly, a vampire glove which had little spikes or pins through the palm can be used to give a pin pricky sensation akin to running your nails over a person’s skin.

A good point was made that you don’t have to spend a lot of money, but be careful when using homemade implements that they are up to the job. But some items you can just find around the house. A hairbrush can be used for paddling – and the brush side for sensation play – and at the end of the day you can happily leave it lying around with no consequences if anyone else in the household finds it!

Sex and the Media session warned writers if you are being interviewed you might not have the final say about what goes into the article, eg, the journalist might want to show both sides of an argument and come up with reasons not to buy your book!!

The closing plenary came to us over skype (or similar) from the US and the comment she made that I thought was great was that ‘there is a power to reading and writing about sex that cannot be captured in the visual, eg, emotions, descriptions of sensations, journey to that moment, etc.’

Many thanks to the organisers for another great conference. It was super to meet so many people including Jacqui Brocker and Alice Dryden in the photo with me below.

Look forward to seeing you all again next year.


Friday, 8 March 2013

Friday First Chapters

Here is another first chapter - the first in the 'Haunt of the Wolves' series. (The second book is yet to be written but will be about the adventures of Evie).

If you like what you read and want to buy the full book it can be purchased via the publisher's website in a variety of e-book formats including PDF or on Amazon.

Here is a review from a reader: "Very good, the story was non-stop and I can't wait for more from this author."


The Haunt of the Wolves 1

Copyright © 2013


You are invited to attend Submissive Trials
on Friday, 2nd September, 7:30 p.m.
at The Haunt, off the old Deer Park Road, Spring Valley

Submissive Trials! As Natasha Talbot reread the invitation that had appeared in her morning post, she felt desire rush through her body and her clit started to throb.
She suddenly had to sit down as her legs turned wobbly. This called to her deepest yearnings. It sounded so intriguing, so exciting, and it was something that she had really wanted to do for a couple of years now. But ordinary people like her who had average looks, with boring secretarial jobs, and who lived with their aunts despite being twenty-four didn’t do things like BDSM. They didn’t become submissives who surrendered to the will of a Dominant. They didn’t let another person whip them until they climaxed, or anything else similarly exciting that she had only read about before now.
“Oh, God.” A rush of wetness dampened her panties, and she had to clamp her legs together.
Natasha looked at the envelope again, but there was nothing on it to indicate who it was from, and neither had it gone through the postal system, so there was no stamp. It was just a plain white envelope. So whoever had left it had hand-delivered it. A shiver of fear went through her that someone not only knew where she lived, but also that she could be interested in this lifestyle.
Then she shook her head dismissively and threw the invite on the table. “Don’t be bloody stupid, Natasha. You’ve never told anyone, so how could they know?” No, it was just a leaflet drop.
She bit her lip. Even if it hadn’t been intended for her, she could fantasize about attending this event, which was only two weeks away. She had initially become aware of BDSM when she had read her first erotic romance about a girl who persuaded a friend to take her to a club not realizing the friend actually owned it.
Natasha chuckled. She was now a connoisseur of erotic romance stories, particularly the BDSM ones, and it was frequently the case that the hero secretly owned the venue. “It’s about time it was the heroine who did the subterfuge! Hmm. That’s an idea for a story.”
Sighing deeply, Natasha leaned forward resting her elbows on the table, cupping her face in her hands as her thick red hair fell about her shoulders. Not that she was interested in dominatrix stories herself. She preferred the females to be the submissive person in the book. After reading that original story, she had done some online research and had become absolutely fascinated with it, but also frightened, suspecting that she would have a major panic attack if someone tried to tie her up. At the same time, she was jealous of those women that could do it.
Picking up the leaflet, she looked again at the address and frowned. “Well, I know Spring Valley is about an hour from here, but the old Deer Park Road is a new one on me.” Spring Valley was a rather mysterious forested valley with a range of hills on one side called Hawk Ridge that no one ever ventured near. She’d heard tell that there were wild animals there.
She giggled. It was a tale told to children that anyone venturing inside the woods was never heard of again.
Shaking her head, amused by that myth, she noted the time. 7:30 p.m. It would be entirely possible to get home from her job working in an insurance firm on the date in question, have a quick bite to eat, get changed, and drive there.
Get changed. What on earth does one wear to submissive trials? Natasha made a face. Would they expect basques and fishnet stockings? With four-inch heels? Maybe leather skirts and crop tops? Or would dress code be part of the induction? Were they expecting experienced subs or newbies?
Natasha looked again at the invitation and sat up straight, her heart pounding hard in her chest.
Newcomers welcome.
This was clearly stated at the bottom corner of the card. She gasped. She could have sworn it hadn’t said that before.
Dress appropriately.
It was like all her queries were being answered. It must have said that before, but she just hadn’t read that far down.
“Anyhow, stupid girl, they don’t mean you. You can’t do this. You’re much too ordinary and shy, and besides which, whatever would Aunt Marjorie say?”
Do I have to tell her? Her aunt was away that particular weekend as it happened.
Could she do it? She rose from the table and went over to the mirror, pushing her hair off her face with trembling fingers.
Can I?

Chapter One

The Shroud started to descend.
Griff Seamer could feel the compelling demand of what was commonly called “The Shroud” and instinctively fought against the sensation of something clamping against his mind, forcing him to accept its ultimatum.
He chuckled. He could feel the same automatic rejection of this primeval warning from others in the club. For that was what it was, a caution, but more than that, it was a compulsion to those in wolf form to turn back into their human selves instantly as the threat of human beings was close by.
Thankfully, Griff was already in his human guise, very tall, dark haired, olive skinned, and muscular. But he grinned at the howls of those who wanted to stay wolf. One couple in particular was close to climax judging by the speed at which the male was hammering into the bitch. “Bitch” in a wolf sense.
Griff’s grin turned into a grimace as he felt the Shroud pull even tighter, bringing those resisting it into compliance. He gritted his teeth and tried to let it wash over him, knowing there was no way anyone, let alone he with all his alpha strength, could resist it.
Abruptly the couple in question turned into two nude, sweaty humans, kneeling on the dusty floor. The woman’s face was close to the ground with her backside in the air as the man thrust his cock into her ass. He held a leash, which was attached to a collar around her neck, tightly within his teeth. As her claws turned back, her nails scraped against the wood.
Unfortunately, the change was so sudden that the man fell on top of the woman, who couldn’t hold herself upright, and they went sprawling in a heap. A cry of pain came from the female, partly from getting squashed beneath someone larger than her, and partly from the man being forced further into her rectum than he probably intended.
However, it was just in time. A girl stood in the doorway. A human girl. Griff turned to look at her and saw her face was transfixed by the sight of the naked couple rolling around on the floor.
He took advantage of her distraction to study her, noting that she was reasonably pretty, if red-faced at this moment, as the couple pulled apart, swearing volubly, and the girl became aware of their private parts in their full glory. He smiled wryly as she clearly attempted to halt her shock from showing, but not achieving it.
It was illegal for sex acts to be performed in public, but this club, commonly known as “The Haunt,” managed to stay secret from the human authorities, partly because of the mysterious Shroud. No one knew where it came from other than it had been spoken about for generations. But also, due to the remote location in a forest a long way from human habitation, not even near any werewolf homes, it had been possible to stay secret. He chuckled to himself. “Deer Park” was a misnomer as there weren’t any deer there, not where wolves lived.
This venue was necessary as it was the only place he knew of where werewolves like he could act out their darker BDSM needs, ones that were frowned on even within the wolf community. Of course, they could go to a human club offering this lifestyle in a town or city, but none of them could turn into their animal selves there.
Shaking his head, he chuckled at the image of human Doms peeing in their pants at the sight of a werewolf sub turning wolf as he whipped her. And, in any case, wolf BDSM sometimes differed from that practiced by humans, being more violent, more exposed. One big difference was that sex in public was not only allowed here, but expected. If someone wanted to be private, they went to their own homes.
He could never understand why the clubs he visited in the city had “private” rooms. If one was into the lifestyle, that indicated a certain degree of exhibitionism, surely. It was only laws, human ones, which forced people with his type of sexual inclination to consummate their acts behind closed doors. Thankfully he wasn’t human.
Narrowing his eyes, Griff studied the girl more closely now that her shock was dissipating. At first she looked like she was going to turn tail and run out of there. In fact, the few humans that had ventured over the threshold had done just that, and she was obviously human. Apart from the warning of the Shroud, he could smell her from here. Like wolves, he could smell another animal a mile away, and she had an almost alien scent. It was amazing to him that humans didn’t have stronger olfactory senses or they would have realized centuries ago that werewolves really existed. He may be part human, but Griff was very much aware that all werewolves had a unique scent like every other animal.
Looking at the girl, he deemed that she was average height and figure for a human. Lupine women were generally taller and leaner than their human counterparts. But what stood out was her glorious red hair, dark red, not the pale, wishy-washy blonde red that he personally disliked. It fell over her shoulders, gently curling at the ends.
His cock surged up in desire. “Down boy,” he growled softly. There was no way he was getting involved with a human. In fact, most wolves stayed clear of the human species. Apart from the threat of exposure, it was too much trouble as couplings of this nature generally split up, the human being unable to accept the animal side of a werewolf’s nature. Not that these sorts of relationships happened very often. The Shroud made sure of that.
The girl still hesitated in the doorway. He could tell from her expression that she was undecided about entering. Not surprisingly considering the hostile vibes that were being emitted from around the room in her direction. He was stunned when she steeled herself and came forward. Admittedly she walked slowly, but she did step into the lion’s den, or more appropriately, the wolves’. Griff mentally sent a nod of applause in her direction. It took guts to come into a venue like this, even more so if one was a different species. Not that she knew that.
He watched curiously as she glanced around. He wondered if she was looking for someone specifically but decided probably not when the first person she approached gave her the cold shoulder turning his back on her. Her shock was evident, and she vacillated, looking down at something she held. Griff shifted on his feet to see what it was and noted it seemed to be a piece of paper. Lifting her head, she tried another person. He didn’t reject her, just glared at her, and Griff saw her step back. Her expression was getting anxious.
Griff saw her looking in his direction. Breaking eye contact, he leaned his head back to tip some more of his vodka down his throat hoping to show his disinterest.
It didn’t work. She walked up to him.
“Um, excuse me, s–sir. Can you tell me where I am supposed to go?” Her voice was surprisingly deep—and husky. She sounded almost wolf-like. His cock throbbed in his tight jeans at the alluring sound, and he had to alter his stance to relieve some of the ache. He tried to concentrate on what she had said instead.
Go? What did she mean?
He must have been showing his confusion on his face because she thrust her piece of paper toward him. Frowning, he reluctantly took possession of it, scanning it quickly, wanting to get rid of her despite his arousal.
“Submissive Trials,” it said.
What on earth?
It wasn’t the suggestion that submissive trials would take place in this venue. In fact, they often did as wolves as much as humans had their Masters, Doms, subs, and switches, but how on earth had she got a copy of the notice?
He rested an elbow on the bar as he glanced at her face again. Her green eyes showed her earnestness. He smiled as a wicked thought came over him, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to set the cat among the pigeons. Talk about throwing the poor girl to the wolves. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.
Raising his voice so he could be heard by everyone, he called out loudly in the direction of the bartender, a tall, closely cropped fair guy, built like a lumberjack who had been with the venue forever, it seemed. “Hey, Al.”
Griff’s deep voice reverberated around the room.
“Where are the Submissive Trials taking place tonight?”
He paused as he waited to get everyone’s attention and grinned as hush descended and all eyes glanced his way. Some were horrified, some indifferent, but most were intrigued to see where he was going with this. Oh, he did like to mix things up when he could. It was entirely too boring at the moment.
Al gave him a look of “mess with me and you’re toast.” Griff just tilted his head to the side and gave him a broad smile. It was the smile he used when he was thoroughly enjoying a joke at someone else’s expense.
“Why do you want to know? Weren’t you banned from the trainees’ room?” Al’s voice was low, obviously wanting to keep the conversation between themselves. Griff laughed to himself. No chance of that happening.
He raised his voice even louder and lifted his glass to indicate the human. “We’ve got a new girl wanting to join in.”