Monday, 29 April 2013

Inspirational Mondays

Was amused by an article in a newspaper recently about a book written by someone who has worked in a book store for some years. Her book was a compilation of inane/funny/stupid comments or questions from her customers and was such a success he asked for fellow shop owners for their own examples including:

  • The customer who asked for an illustrated copy of Fifty Shades (and they can't wait for the film??)
  • The man who wanted to buy a pink book for his wife because women like pink things….. (I'm not even going to comment on that one!)
  • The elderly female customer who said that she couldn’t believe everyone was reading Fifty Shades as she’d been there, done that and had no need to read about it! (Good on her!)
  • The customer who asked which dieting book was better: WeightWatchers or The Hunger Games.......!
  • The person who wanted a really awful book for someone they hate. (Wow!)
  • One who commented, upon looking at an art book, that Picasso must have gone out with some really ugly women. (hahahaha!)
  • The customer who only liked books they could believe in… like Twilight! (Okayyyy....)

And my favourite, the person who decided to buy Gulliver’s Travels as they were thinking of going travelling………………


Jen

Friday, 26 April 2013

Rabbit Fridays

I am afraid all my first chapters, free reads and extracts from work-in-progress have come to an end so from now on I am going to do Rabbit Fridays from now on.

Why rabbits? Well, you may remember I have a rabbit who dominates my household!! I also have some writer friends who also have rabbits who own them……. (that was deliberately worded!)

However, if any other writer or book lover is thinking of allowing a rabbit into their house beware…. Be very very AWARE:

There are rabbits who eat your royalty statements



There are rabbits who distract you from your writing (or reading!) demanding attention

 

There are rabbits who eat your books



And then there are rabbits who hide behind curtains when they’ve finished eating thinking you won’t notice them……




Thanks to fellow writer Tatum Throne for the third picture which is of Coco! I have been promised it wasn’t an important book.

Jen

Wednesday, 24 April 2013

Wednesday Writing

Following on from Monday’s blog 79% of me loves to experiment with BDSM. I have often said “I’ll try anything (most things) once” – and I feel if I am to ask my hero/heroine to try these things out I should try them out myself…..

The handcuffs was problematical when I tried to lock them by myself …. And then couldn’t open them. (After nearly giving myself a heart attack I did get out of them). Bondage tape was dead easy to get out of but gentle on the wrists. Haven’t really tried rope restraints or shibari other than to see how the hero could tie the heroine up by trying it out on myself (sort of!) but I am always amazed at some pics of people tied with shibari and how beautiful it can be.



As for impact play I’ve tried floggers, paddles, crops and spanks (yet to try a whip). My lovely fluffy flogger is my favourite but it is more sensation play than pain play. Don’t forget you can use home grown objects such as a wooden hairbrush for a paddle rather than paying out a fortune. Just be careful that the item is up to the job and doesn’t break and cause injury.



Ice play was cold! Hot massage oil was hot!! But out of the two, definitely prefer the latter (haven’t tried hot wax specifically made for this purpose). If you are into sensation play, definitely use a feather. Was surprised by how ticklish my shoulders are!!

Clamps are not really my thing, I’m far too sensitive. And would never consider piercings, although I love to see others with them.

Jen

Monday, 22 April 2013

Inspirational Mondays

I recently did an online quiz to find out if you had an inclination toward any aspect of BDSM. Let me remind you that I write BDSM stories or often include aspects of it in my stories so chances are I do have an inclination!!

These were my results:


Exhibitionist / Voyeur
93%

Experimental
79%

Bondage
75%

Submissive
68%

Masochist
64%

Switch
54%

Sadist
46%

Degradation
36%

Dominant
21%

Vanilla
0%


Considering the fact that I had nude photos taken for my 50th birthday and insist on all my friends looking at them, the topmost score sounds about right! Check out my blog next week and you can see one of the pics to celebrate the latest birthday!


I am a little surprised I came out as 0% vanilla though! Clearly I am thoroughly perverted!!!!

Jen

Friday, 19 April 2013

Flash Fiction Fridays

This is the last of the extracts from my Work in Progress. This is the first in a new werewolf series set in Medieval Wales about the time that wolves were being exterminated in England. So in my story the werewolves flee to Wales and have to fight the werewolves already there. Meanwhile both packs are caught up in the England/Welsh wars of that period.




Werewolf County
copyright Jennifer Denys


Prologue
As the elimination of the wolf population as ordered by the King continued to sweep the land, Ceri’s father grew more and more agitated. Not only were wolves being decimated, so too were his race, the werewolves. Already his people had moved away from the main population areas to the north toward Scotland and the west in the border lands of Wales, the Welsh Marches, but as they went rumours abound of more and more killings. It seemed the humans of his country were determined to annihilate his race along with the animals which attacked their livestock. Lords were appointed by the King to protect their lands from ‘enemies and wolves’!
He looked down at the body of the latest victim. Although wolf form in death, he knew it was a neighbour and made a decision. It was time to leave England altogether. He turned and looked westward and hoped that Wales would be a safe haven for his family. It had better be. He understood there were only sea or islands beyond that point. The problem was wolves were territorial, and werewolves no less. How many other families were already hiding out in this country which bordered his? Would they be accepted or would they have to fight for land—for refuge? Time would tell.
Twenty three years later
Two groups stood on either side of the cleaning in the dense forest not far from Ruthin, but far enough away that humans did not venture here.
Neither group was smiling. Instead mistrust, hatred, anger, and sarcasm were the looks on the faces of both groups. And in the middle of the open area stood Ceri who sighed as she looked around her.
A booming voice rang out startling her. The sing-song intonation told immediately that this was a Welsh-born person. But that didn’t say much, most of her people had been born in Wales since they arrived here fleeing from those that would kill them in England. However, members of the pack standing opposite her regarded her people as English interlopers, stealing their land, their food, their women.
“Drystan, you have agreed as part of this truce that your daughter, Ceri, will be wed to my son, Rhys. I now affirm this marriage in accordance with the laws of our people in the hope that peace will prevail amongst us.”
Ceri glanced over at her betrothed. He was looking daggers at her. She flushed. Ceri knew she wasn’t particularly attractive and preferred wearing male clothes to the hated dresses her mother tried to get her to wear. Rhys, meanwhile, was very handsome—and he knew it.
She sighed and resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at Arran, a member of her own pack. He wasn’t particularly tall like Rhys, nor well built. Okay, so he was downright skinny and had a scar down his left cheek, evidence of a fight some years ago, but his long fair hair was silky smooth. She much preferred it to Rhys’ thick, stubby, dark hair.
“Come here, girl,” Drystan called.
Ceri swallowed nervously as she stepped forward. This was part of the ceremony that she wasn’t looking forward to. Hell, she was downright loathing it.
“I will now mark both your bodies and you will mingle the blood to bind you to each other forever. This mark will be on your chests, therefore hidden beneath your clothes to prying human eyes, and even when in wolf form it will be on your underside.” Drystan then took hold of Rhys’ shirt and ripped it in two.
As he turned toward Ceri to do the same she stepped backward.
Her father growled at her. “Do not disgrace me, child.”
Obeying her father she stepped forward. Admittedly it was a very shaky step. Then she closed her eyes and waited for her shirt to be similarly torn in two.
She heard a gasp and frowned. Opening her eyes she could see that Rhys was staring at her breasts. Her now unbound breasts, which were naked to the air, and to the eyes of all those present. What did his gasp mean? Werewolves usually shed their clothes to shift into their animal forms and so nakedness was not uncommon amongst her people, but the time she spent naked as a human was mercifully short. She did know, though, that her body was as other females and her breasts of a normal size, her nipples dusky pink.
As Rhys continued to gaze at her and mutters went around the groups, Ceri wished Drystan would get on with the ceremony. She breathed a sigh of relief when he was presented with the ceremonial knife. It was a beautiful piece of work, its handle a fine design of twisted leaves.
Without waiting another second, nor uttering anything more, Drystan slashed Rhys’ chest about half way down. Ceri held back a cry, her eyes drawn to the welling blood. Shit, this is going to hurt.
Thankfully it was a much smaller nick, between her breasts, but is still stung. Ceri gritted her teeth. Then she remembered what came next and groaned inwardly.
“Rhys, you must now take your woman and show the packs she is your wife.”
The look on Rhys’ face was unreadable as he stepped toward Ceri. As she was pulled forward, her feet stumbled a little. They were chest to chest. His cut was higher up than hers so he took hold of her under her arms, easily lifting her with his powerful arms that belied his wood-felling job, until her bosom was tight against his chest, his wiry hair tickling her as the blood from their two cuts mingled.
His eyes then narrowed before he dipped his head and bent to take her lips in a forceful kiss.
A cry went up from everyone, native Welsh-born werewolf of longstanding tribe but also the newer Welsh-born in addition to the few English-born still alive. Their packs had been devastated by the battles between them until it made no sense to remain two separate packs. Not when they had the humans to contend with. And the English humans in particular who were continually making forays into their country.
Tangnefedd!” But would it be peace for now on? Could their two peoples live happily together? Could they remain undetected from the invading English? Would her life with Rhys be happy? And could she forget Arran?

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

Wednesday Writing - Erotic Writers' Lunch with Janine Ashbless

I’ve met with the lovely Janine Ashbless on a number of occasions since we discovered we live in the same town and the most recent was over Easter, but this is the first time either of us remembered to bring a camera to get a photo of the two of us.



As usual we talked about sex as well as our books. I am always amused when I meet a writer friend in public as I find myself lowering my voice when I am talking about certain items of a sexual nature and even lower if they happen to include BDSM!!! Although this time I didn’t notice any stares in our direction, which has happened before.

(Do check out her great blog).

Jen

Monday, 15 April 2013

Inspirational Mondays



What inspires me – FINALLY getting some warm weather and sunshine in this country (the UK)!!!! I actually got a dress out of the wardrobe the other day. Unfortunately, I also discovered I have put on a stone (14lbs) in weight since Christmas so my summer clothes are all a bit on the tight side……

Jen

Friday, 12 April 2013

Flash Fiction Fridays

For those of you who have read my ‘Friends & Acquaintances series’ and the ‘Doms & Acquaintances’ series know that they have cross over characters.

I have plans to do one final book bringing together all six couples but ten years on so we can see how their lives have gone…. Or not gone as they planned! (Naturally it has NOT gone as they planned).

Here is an extract from the opening chapter of my work in progress. I am aiming to get this one finished and out around Christmas, but remember it could well change by then!

Jen



A Champagne Friday Reunion
Copyright Jennifer Denys 2013

“Are any of us actually having sex?”

All the other five women in the room turned to Gina. But no-one replied. They all knew the answer—none of them. They knew Gina wasn’t getting any as she and her husband, Dan, had split up just a few months earlier over money issues when Dan had lost his job. Gina earned some money from the books she wrote, but not enough for Dan to be out of work and things were tight—and tense.

It was a Friday in early December and it was the annual meeting of the Champagne Friday group. Six female friends who had all eventually found love with someone they all knew or were acquainted with. At first they had met up for regular Friday evenings but over the course of the years husbands, families, jobs and other commitments kept them apart and now ten years later they met just once a year.

“Someone please tell me you are getting laid,” begged Rebecca forlornly. “I know you used to enjoy the challenges Jon used to make me go through, but sex has become boring. I now live vicariously through you all.” It didn’t help that he had had a heart attack and was scared of sexual intercourse.

There was still no response.

She tried again. “Lissa surely you’ve written something erotic?” Lissa was an erotic romance writer. She had met her husband, Matt, when she helped him make his sci-fi story more erotic and appealing to female readers. Unfortunately, she had enjoyed the experience so much she had started writing her own stories and had become more successful than him. And he wasn’t a happy bunny.

Lissa ducked her head. “Not lately. We had a huge fight after a book signing. So haven’t been in the mood—for writing or sex. What about you, Jessie? You’re surely having sex all the time with all the kids you’ve got.” There was a slight edge of bitterness to Lissa’s voice as she asked the question. She and Matt had always wanted kids, but she was just too busy.

“Oh heavens. We may have a large brood but there just doesn’t seem to be time to make love any more, one of the kids is always around. We never get any privacy.” Jessie and Sam had started having kids straight away since Jessie was in her late thirties and they had enjoyed it so much they kept on having them—all five, including eight year old twins.

Ellie turned to Kat. “What about you, sweetie? I know you and Ben divorced, but have you found anyone else?” Kat and Ben and grown apart as the BDSM life palled for her and she resented being Ben’s submissive. When he suggested their marriage went the way of the ‘swinging’ lifestyle and that they invited another woman into their bed it had been the end of their marriage.

Kat shrugged. “Nobody for long. And nobody exciting.”

“You mean not as exciting as Ben.” Kat winced and everyone knew Ellie had hit the nail on the head.

“Well come on then, last as usual, Ellie,” declared Gina. “Please tell us you and Nick are hitting the sack. This time last year you were trying yet another method to get pregnant.”

A gasp resounded as she said this. Ellie may have been desperate to become pregnant but nothing had ever worked. Out of them all she, Lissa and Kat hadn’t had children—Lissa hadn’t had the time and Kat never wanted kids. Jessie had her large brood, Rebecca was happy with her one son, and Gina had three—all of whom added to her increasing money worries.

Gina moved to hug Ellie and apologize for putting her foot in it. “Don’t worry. If it’s meant to be it will happen. But the ‘breeding program’ as Nick called it rather took the fun out of our lovemaking and so we haven’t wanted to do anything in months.”

Rebecca looked around the group of forlorn women. “Look at us. When we all met and married our men we were so happy, with so many dreams for what our lives were going to be like. And now we are average statistics for why marriages aren’t working.”

There was a loud clamor as everything tried to protest.

She continued, “Oh come on. We’ve had separation due to money worries. That’s Gina.” She looked at Gina before gesturing at Jessie who was sitting next to Gina. “Jessie with children getting in the way. Then Ellie with her problems getting pregnant. Kat with ‘other women’ problems leading to divorce. Me will illness leading to boredom. The only thing we haven’t had is death of a spouse—thank God!”

“You know, she’s right,” said Jessie quietly in the silence that followed. “I propose that by this time next year we all aim to tell of our terrific experiences in bed. Well, at least one really good night of sex with our partners. And those with no current partner can at least regale us with details of their new ones!”

“Yeah, why not!”

“Can do.”

“No prob.”

“Haha.”

“Shit. I’ll just sit on Jon.”

Laughter grew at Rebecca’s suggestion of how she could get Jon back in her bed.

All six women left that evening with a renewed vigor. But all six were also wary at the same time about how they were going accomplish this. It was one thing to agree to it verbally in the heat of the moment, and quite another to actually do it.

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Wednesday Writing - more thoughts on Eroticon



This was a session I went to at Eroticon on busting myths about the Submissive Woman:


Myth 1 - submissive women are weak, needy, dependent, lack confidence, lack self respect, a doormat, powerless.

Poppycock! You need to know yourself and have a strength of character. There may be some submissives who fit one or more of those characteristics but don’t broadly brush all submissives like that. Writers seem to have gone the other way to avoid showing women as needy instead there are lots of books which show the submissive as a powerful woman who gives up control. The key is finding the balance.

Myth 2 - submissive women are passive sexually, unaware of their submissive nature, only awakened by a strong Dom and that being a sub is about pleasing the Dom and all about his sexual pleasure.

Rubbish. It should be about mutual pleasure. You are not topping from the bottom if you communicate and express what you need.

Submission is not taken but given, although there are a lot of stories where the submission is perceived to be taken, eg, forced seduction.

Myth 3 - You are submissive because of a past abuse or trauma.

We all come to any kind of relationship with issues that doesn’t mean we will become submissive. It also implies we are submissive with consent and have no choice, that the sub is forced to be submissive because they don't know anything different.

Myth 4 - All submissive women are masochists.

Do not assume that a woman in a Dominant/submissive relationship enjoys experiencing pain play. Pain play is often cathartic, not necessarily orgasmic. It can be arousing but far stronger is the element of catharsism. Extreme pain does not equal pleasure. Different women will have thresholds and responses.

It needs to be a positive experience for both and not about the Dom taking out his frustration. A person doing it in anger will be dangerous. It should be a controlled situation.

Myth 5 - submissive women are all bi sexual, poly, open to everyone, promiscuous, submissive to everyone

Too laughable to even comment on!

Myth 6 - that all people in a DS relationship have a contract, eg, the Dom gives you a contract and says sign here.

An actual contract is quite rate. Do talk about your needs and limits but they may need to be re-negotiated over time.


It was a terrific session.

Jen

Monday, 8 April 2013

Inspirational Mondays - the Alternative Dictionary for Erotic Writers

This is the Alternative Dictionary for Erotic Writers - in my genre we seem to have developed an alternative dictionary, particularly if you write BDSM like I have done for some of my books.......



Auction – no cows involved but there might be some bitches
Basque – is not only a place in Spain
Big – this is not describing the hero as fat but is a very important description for the hero
Cheek – lower down than the face
Clamp – this is not taking place in a woodworking shop
Collar – not worn by dogs or vicars or men in suits
Come – you are not calling for your dog!
Cougar – not a wild animal (you may be wild, though)
Cream – not the food, but can be delicious
Dick – not Richard
Handcuffs – the main characters go nowhere near a police station
Hot – does not refer to the weather!
Ice – not used for putting into drinks
M/M – not a type of sweet/candy
Paddle – the main characters are not in a boat when this is used
Plug – not used for a bath or a sink although does the same job
Pussy – not a pet that purrs (you may be purring if you are petted though)
Rabbit – yes it jumps around but doesn’t beg for carrot
Red – a colour, but more than a colour
Spoon – not the cutlery
St Andrews Cross – is not only on a flag
Submit – I am not referring to sending in my books for consideration to my publisher
Suck – no lollipops in sight
Thrust – no fencing in sight but your hero might make use of his own sword
Topping – is not referring to cakes

Feel free to add your own!

Jen

Friday, 5 April 2013

Flash Fiction Fridays

This is an extract from the opening chapter for an alien abduction comedy. I still haven't decided on the title! It was inspired by all the alien abduction stories that I a sucker for and I was thinking 'what happens if an alien decides to abduct ME, a middle-aged feisty Englishwoman....'

Remember it is a work in progress and may well change by the time I finish it!


Alien Abduction Comedy (working title)
copyright Jennifer Denys 2013


I’ve been abducted by an alien to be his mate! Dee couldn’t believe what she had just been told. What is this—some sort of appalling erotic romance? She winced. All right, so she was a sucker for alien abduction stories where the heroine is kidnapped by a hunky—and usually colored—alien because they have somehow been ordained to be breeding mates. So not abysmal since she owned many books with just that sort of plot.
            But that doesn’t happen in real life. It doesn’t! Does it?
            “Okay, mister. Say that again. I’m not sure the ‘universal translator’ was working properly. You want me to be what?”
            The tall being that stood in front of her wasn’t blue or green or purple like the archetypal alien of her stories usually was, but neither was he quite the color of an Earthling—more orange. She supposed he could have been overdoing the fake tan in a bad way if this was a set-up, except for the fact that he was longer than any man she knew of guessing this being was around seven and a half foot tall. But the more damning fact was that his bare chest appeared to be nippleless and his ears were slightly pointy. Thankfully his eyebrows didn’t arch upwards, nor did he have a pudding bowl haircut. She did wonder if he had green blood, though.
            Shit! I’m going to have to stop watching sci-fi.
            “You are my mirishu—you will mate with me and give me shushu—er, children.”
            Dee goggled at the over-tanned but unbelievably gorgeous creature in front of her. Yeah she’d loved to have sex with this guy, but he’d certainly got a rum deal with her. Apart from the fact that she was single because no man on earth had ever shown much of an interest in her, the more important thing here was that she had just started her menopause.
            After a moment of amazed silence, she burst out laughing at the incredulity of the situation. The alien stepped back a pace clearly stunned by her outburst. His face was a picture of flabbergasted astonishment—and some anger.
            That brought her hilarity to an abrupt end. Her hands on her hips she told him curtly, “Sorry, mister, but you must have got the wrong woman.”
            The alien’s eyebrows came together at the top of his nose as he frowned. This did cause his brows to arch upwards and Dee nearly giggled again but fought hard to stop it. “There is no mistake. Our Doggu—seer, I think is your word—directed me to you. Besides which, I know when we touch.”
            As if to confirm his words he put out a hand and clasped her shoulder. She waited. Well—was she supposed to feel something? Anything?
            “See,” he proclaimed his face relaxing as if he had, for a moment, thought she was correct.
            “Look, mate.” She stopped. That is a bad choice of word! But if they were going to kidnap an Englishwoman they got English colloquialism. “Um, Sir. I’m not feeling anything and you really ought to know something very important—I can’t have kids.”
            As his hand dropped like a hot stone from her shoulder his face went back to its imitation of Spock.
            “I do not understand this.” He turned away, swiftly moving to a doorway which suddenly appeared in the wall which hadn’t been there before. “I will find out what is happening.”
            And with that he departed through the door which closed with a ‘swoosh’ as swiftly as it had opened and then there was no sign of it.
            Dee rushed over to try to follow the alien but the wall didn’t open as it had for him. She banged on the wall with a raised fist. “Hey come back. Don’t leave me here alone. You alien you. I want to go home.” After banging for a few seconds her hand began to hurt so she turned and slumped back against the wall. Lifting her chin she spoke out loud to the empty room. “If you’ve got any surveillance cameras or listening devices then at least bring me a cup of tea. I am gasping here.”



Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Wednesday Writing

Ten things you probably didn’t know about me:

  1. I am tone deaf (but I like to sing. The problem is people move away from me if I try to join in *sigh*)
  2. I nearly drowned as a child.
  3. I nearly burnt myself to death as an adult!
  4. I don’t drive.
  5. I don’t have a mobile phone (I know, I am in the minority!!)
  6. I love songs from the musicals (well, the classic age of musical, not modern ones!)
  7. I injured my foot as a child which has led to knee problems in middle age!
  8. I am very short sighted.
  9. I have very little sense of smell (I know, I am a wreck!!)
  10. I have an ancestor who was on the first fleet of convicts out to Australia.



Monday, 1 April 2013

Inspiration Mondays - Happy Easter!

No author interviews this month, just Happy Easter to all my readers!




Thanks to everyone who left a comment. If you want to know the answer to the Flash Fiction free read - Lucy is a SWITCH (by the way, Lucy is the name of my house rabbit!!)

Jen