Tag Archives: stories

Aching for Reviews

15 Apr

I hadn’t realised, when I thought I’d jump into the Indie stream and have a splash around, that the hardest thing about it would be getting people to read my stuff. But it is.

By that, I don’t mean that it’s hard to get people to pay for an ebook. That’s not so much of a problem I think. No, the hard thing is trying to persuade someone to read a free copy and then post their opinions online. And, because Amazon.com is such a publishing powerhouse, what that really means is posting their opinions on Amazon.com or .co.uk.

So if anyone would like to do that, please let me know, and I’ll give you a free copy of Payback or Aching for Marvin.

Aching for Marvin – the cover!

9 Apr

Yes, I know, it’s only a cover, but I quite like it.

Here it is:

 

It’s different from my other covers – it’s got more colour for a start – and hopefully people can tell what sort of novella it’s going to be. I’d be delighted to hear any feedback of course.

Aching for Marvin – my first novella

8 Apr

So my absence from the blogosphere has been due to some frenetic writing and illustrating and the result will be here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/52226 and on Amazon.com within a few days.

Aching for Marvin is a novella – barely. Snippets of it have been up here elsewhere for a few Twitterotica prompts. They seemed to get a good response so fingers crossed…

It’s got sauce but it’s a bit of a departure from my previous stuff as it’s not quite as dark. So I wonder whether people prefer fluffy or heavy. Chocolate fondant (with sauce) or chocolate fudge cake? Hmm, tough one.

My Latest Thrill: Vanillamom

30 Mar

I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to get round to giving Nilla a blow-job-in-a-post but here it is. She’s been prolific recently, with not one, not five, but eight – that’s EIGHT – story posts in the last week. Amazing. YYTMGK783W9C

It seems that the wee spanking she received is the cause. In which case, I say, go Nilla’s Boss!

What, you want the url? Okay, here it is:

http://vanillamom.wordpress.com/


My mother-in-law lent me her vibrator – a sexy piece of #5MinuteFiction

29 Mar

Maybe it’s because the clocks have changed. Maybe it’s because I’m not out at a glamorous soiree. Maybe it’s because I’m a shameless self-promoter (cf). Whatever the reason, I finally organised myself to take part in Leah Peterson‘s Twitter contest #5MinuteFiction. It was hosted today at the lovely web home of JM Frey and I writted some more about Christa and Miles who are rapidly turning into my favourite characters. Oh, and the challenge was to incorporate the writing prompt ‘Decade’.

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It was bad enough, Christa thought, that her mother-in-law had caught her ‘having a moment’ in the bath with a shampoo bottle. She cursed Miles for the tenth time since arriving at the hotel for inviting his mother on vacation. But this? This was something else.

More smut through here

Shameless self-promotion

29 Mar

I have a new collection of short stories called Payback, which is now available in various places.

Let me know if you like it.

Twitterotica – a #FuckMeFriday story: An angel’s #wake

25 Mar

This is for this week’s piece of Twitterotica to mark #FuckMeFriday (Ruby Kiddell and Aisling Weaver’s weekly writing challenge). The prompt is #wake and is justifiable. Barely.

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After a ten days on vacation with her husband and mother-in-law, Christa snapped.

“You’re taking the children and your mother on the glass-bottomed boat tour,” she told Miles. “I’m having a massage.” Wisely, he chose not to argue.

The masseuse was fully booked, so Christa decided to take a long, hot bath. She surveyed herself in the mirror as the water ran. Her hair was like straw, albeit with some fresh sun-bleached highlights, and the tan lines around her boobs were uneven. One shoulder seemed to have caught the sun more, probably while she was in the pool being piggy-in-the-middle for the boys. She ran a hand over her midriff and tutted at the bloat. The effect was emphasised by her foliage-free lady garden, the product of a different and unexpected interpretation of the words “Bikini Line” by the Scottish girl who had waxed her before the vacation. Evidently in Scotland all the women wore candy floss bikinis that required the full Brazilian. Two weeks later, it still felt unnaturally smooth. But at least the swelling had gone down.

As the water’s heat began to penetrate Christa’s bones, her mind turned back to Miles. He had been looking very fine as he left with the children. She had caught a glimpse of him in his shorts and tight-fitting surf splash top. The sunshine caught the blond hairs on his legs and arms in a halo, like the wake of an angel.

Christa sighed and leaned back in the water, the surface tickling her ears. Her hand drifted back to the smoothness of her crotch. He hadn’t changed much in the fifteen years since college, when his tall, wiry frame had first caught her attention on the tennis court. Their first time had been in the college boat club, under the tarpaulin of a rowing boat.

It was desperately uncomfortable, but somehow they had manoeuvred into a position where Miles could reach under her. More smut through here

Twitterotica – A #wankwednesday story: The importance of fuck-me shoes

9 Mar

They are the highest heels I’ve ever bought. In the mirror, I could see my feet point down, almost vertically, so it’s impossible to tell where my calf ends and my foot begins. My toes are squashed into the end. They are hideously uncomfortable.

And yet, they make me feel as if I’m floating, as though mere contact with the ground is no longer a problem I need to deal with. I am an angel, a heavenly figure in black — no fallen angel, either. There will be no falling today. My sheer dress clings to me in the right places. My make-up is better than I’ve ever managed it before. My nails are smudge-free and my hair remains unfrizzed. All that is down to the shoes.

The smut continues through here

Story of the month: let me know which stories you liked

9 Mar

It’s a poll! I love polls. I may even dance if this one gets big enough. You can pick more than one story.

A little more smut-related content through here

Story: The Maharani of Carriage O

7 Mar

After five months in India, you start to understand some of the rhythms of the railways–slow and incessant, and more enjoyable than you expect. Rather like tantric sex, or so Marc says, anyway. He likes to take the slow route. I’m more of a Ferrari girl. If you don’t get there quickly, you might never arrive.

This particular train was the overnight sleeper from Mumbai to Goa. After five months of temples, bazaars and trekking, I needed a change of pace: some relaxing beach time, a few massages, sunbathing, maybe a little bit of shopping in the market. Marc wanted to go to a full moon party, stay up all night, take something illegal, and then meditate his way down.

The trains have only one pace. Getting on one is not as easy as you’d think. First, you need to find the right platform, but the signs are in Hindi. There are always porters to tell you, but honestly, why would I lug a backpack for two miles along a main road only to hand it to some guy in a red shirt who will just try to get two hundred rupees off me for carrying it upside down over a bridge? Okay, so it’s heavy. It’s lined with chicken wire, in case someone tries to slash it and get my stuff, and I’ve got my Mac makeup and a travel hair-dryer just in case I end up at some ambassador’s party or something, eating Ferrero Rocher and champagne, and flirting with the MI6 guy. There would always be one. Hopefully a Daniel Craig lookalike.

More smut through here