by Madelynne Ellis
Following the publication of A Gentleman’s Wager, the phrase I heard most often was: “So when are you writing the sequel?”
Sequel, thought I. I don’t think so. You see as much as I loved the characters (and Vaughan is still my favourite out of all the characters I’ve created), I’d reached the close of their story. I knew roughly what happened to them in future, but I didn’t feel any desire to flesh out the details for an audience. None whatsoever. And that’s how it remained for the best part of five years.
So, what changed?
Coincidence mostly… It went something like this.
1. Ms Mathilde Madden informs me over lunch that I really do want to write about Vaughan again. She also mutters something about gothic and vampires.
2. While researching a location for a story (for Love on the Dark Side), we happen to drive through the village of Pennerley... the same village from which Vaughan’s title is derived. I’ve never been to this place before. I originally chose it at random by browsing a map of the UK. (NB: I never did finish the story I was researching.)
3. At the end of the same day, we decide to take a minor detour on the way home to visit a castle. As we approach the castle, I’m struck by the realisation that this is where Vaughan lives. In each room, I see him laughing, prowling, brooding.
4. I start dreaming about Vaughan, nothing concrete mind, just impressions and vagaries.
5. I get on with writing other stories (see #2).
Some weeks later…
6. I go in search of a dictionary and instead sit down and write the outline of Phantasmagoria. It comes out of nowhere and leaves me feeling shocked and excited. I contact Black Lace and ask them if they’re interested in a sequel to A Gentleman’s Wager. They are.
7. OMG! They want it by when?
Sequels, it turns out are damned hard to write, especially when the world decides to go to hell in a hand basket around you.
Phantasmagoria is released in the UK on the 6th March, and US on 29th April. A Gentleman’s Wager is reprinted on 1st April. I hope you’ll consider reading both…
Here's the blurb and a teaser.
1800 – Three years after escaping to London with her bisexual lovers, Bella Rushdale wakes one morning to find their delicate ménage a trois about to shatter. Vaughan, Marquis of Pennerley, has left without any explanation. Determined to reclaim him and preserve their relationship, Bella pursues him to his family seat on the Welsh Borders, where she finds herself embroiled in his preparations for a diabolical gothic celebration on All Hallows Eve – a phantasmagoria. Among the shadows and phantoms, Bella and her lovers will discover shocking truths about each other.
‘Let go!’ Bella fought against Vaughan’s hold, but remained trapped between the flexing steel of his warm body and the wall. Vaughan quashed her cries, forcing his tongue into her mouth and kissing her hard.
Nobody else ever kissed her with the same knee-buckling intensity, with a taste that washed straight to her quaint. She’d never been able to resist his kiss. Never.
‘Get off me,’ she snarled, when he finally pulled back for air.
‘Not yet.’ He locked an arm across his chest, while his body still pressed against her as unyielding as pig iron, and with his free hand he lifted her hem.
Her arousal exposed, Bella turned her head away from his scalding breath. ‘I’m not your plaything. Not even your mistress.’
‘You’re my lover.’ His breath troubled the pulse point in her throat. ‘If not my mistress, what are you, some slattern that needed a bed for a night?
She snapped her teeth at him, but he merely laughed and pushed his fingers into her heat. His thumb worked bitter circles around her clitoris, driving her onto her toes, gasping for breath. Arousal so thick it felt like bellyache knotted her lower half. Slickly, his fingers worked their magic, driving her to the brink of joy, and transforming sharp words into sharper breaths.
She couldn’t speak. She felt his cock lying unbearably hard against her hip, so full of promise.
‘Sing for me, my nightingale. Come.’ He dragged his lips down the side of her neck and sucked. She couldn’t fight it. Shards of frosty hatred cracked into sparklers of delight. The swirl of his thumb, the twist of his fingers brought such sweet, swift pleasure, her limbs trembled.
Bella’s pulse raced with need and expectation. She managed to win one arm free, and immediately dug her fingers into his bottom. The muscles clenched and unclenched as he rocked against her thigh, taking his pleasure from the friction. The dance of their bodies slowed, as her breaths became shallow and ragged. Everything was concentrated in her clit and the tingle of her nipples. The whole world seemed to contract into one point as she gasped into his chest and her orgasm rendered her soft and pliant.
Bella snuggled against his shoulder, her eyes wet with tears, content for a moment to simply exist in his embrace.
‘Now you’re even.’ Vaughan disentangled their bodies, and stepped back. ‘Don’t ever presume to tell me whom I can bed in my own house.’
She felt the blood return to her face. Her eyes narrowed, but so did Vaughan’s. Was this battle of wills really what she wanted? She longed for Lucerne’s easy smile, the safety of his embrace.
Vaughan was the most exciting, sexually aggressive man she’d ever met. The most perverse, the most infuriating, and it hurt to love him.
God, how it hurt!
Fancy more? You can read the Prologue here. You might also like to check out Indiscretions, a short story which bridges the gap between A Gentleman’s Wager and Phantasmagoria.
PS: Leave a comment for a chance to win a signed copy of Phantasmagoria.
Friday, February 29, 2008
by Madelynne Ellis
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
by Dayle A. Dermatis and Teresa Noelle Roberts (aka Sophie Mouette)
Dayle: Last week we talked about how in the future, it seems, all men will be hotter—at least, according to science fiction movies and TV. But it’s not just the men…check out all those hot women in formfitting futuristic outfits, carrying ray guns they know damn well how to use! They often get to be the captains, the leaders, the rebels, the ones in charge of not only themselves and their own destinies, but of spaceships, armies, and even planets.
Science fiction has always been a place for women to shine—it’s long been a venue for writers to explore strong women, women’s equality, etc. Future women were often in jobs far beyond what a current woman could reasonably expect. Uhura in the original Star Trek series may have not had a lot to do other than say “They’re hailing us,” but she was on the bridge, and that was a big step back then (not to mention she was black—but that’s another topic of discussion entirely).
I remember being impressed by—and kind of wanting to be—Princess Leia when I saw the first Star Wars as a wee lass. She was beautiful, powerful, strong, got to wield a gun (quite capably, I might add), and she had the most wonderful ability for wit and sarcasm even in the direst of moments.
To me, that was a lot sexier than the stupid bronze bikini and being chained to a giant slug. Chains, yes. Giant slugs…ew!
Teresa: It’s not that other genres don’t have strong women who can handle themselves in a dangerous situation. But often, these characters face conflicts that grow of out being a woman in a male-dominated field. The tough women of science fiction have their own set of clichés (among other things, that they’re unusually beautiful!) but our heroines aren’t the only female officers/commanders/space pirates/rebels/whatever in their worlds—just the ones the story focuses on. It’s refreshing, and it can, in the hands of good script writers, allow them to become more complex characters.
Take one of my major SF female crushes, Commander Susan Ivanova from Babylon 5. She’s one of many female Earthforce officers, and no one on the series makes a big deal of her gender. She’s a sexual being (a bisexual being, even, although alas there aren’t any girl-kisses), and she looks good in her uniform, but that’s only part of what she is. She’s a loyal military officer who ends up rebelling against a corrupt government, a daughter with a complicated relationship with her parents, a Russian Jew with a strong ethnic identity in a future when ethnic identity is often downplayed, and a warrior capable of not just kicking butt, but delivering almost Biblical rants while she does.
Gotta give props to Babylon 5 as well for a character who breaks a lot of the science-fiction-woman cliches. Delenn, the Mimbari diplomat whose romance with a human shakes both cultures, isn’t stereotypically hot. Her bony head ridges, loose-fitting clothes, and serious, scholarly demeanor are about as far from Captain Kirk’s alien’s babes or even butt-kicking-but-conventionally-beautiful Ivanova as you can get. The viewer falls for her as gradually as her human partner does, drawn in by her character instead of her beauty…and much as I like beautiful women, that’s pretty cool.
But this was supposed to be about crushes, and I have so many of them! Firefly offers a rich field to choose from. Perky, curvy Kaylee and sultry philosopher/courtesan Inara are each appealing in their own way, and River, despite being underage, underweight, and spooky, moves like a goddess (especially in the fight scenes in Serenity).
But I harbor a weakness for Zoë. The combination of gun-blazing heroics, snarky common sense, and well-drawn relationships with her husband and her PTSD-ridden captain win me over. Okay, the bitchin’ body and tight leather clothes don’t hurt. And seductive criminal Saffron (or whatever her name really is) can dazzle me with her breasts and drug me with her lipstick anytime, thanks!
Claudia Black as Farscape’s renegade Peacekeeper Aeryn Sun is smoking. But I also liked Farscape’s roguish, gray-skinned Chiana.
Apparently I have a thing for heroic women with big guns and leather pants (or well-tailored uniforms) and an almost equal yen for bad girls, good heart optional. Which makes me wonder why I’ve been neither robbed blind nor dragged into the wrong kind of undercover operation by any of my past girlfriends.
And then there are a few crushes that my partner-in-future-lust shares with me and will cover below: Janeway and Starbuck!
Dayle: Definite agreement on Zoë; Gina Torres was gorgeous and scary on Angel, fabulous in her smaller role on Alias, and I’ve got Cleopatra 2525 in my Netflix queue even though I’m sure it will be appallingly bad. (I’ll watch appallingly bad for the right actors!)
More of my official SF women crushes:
Star Trek gave me some goods ones: Dax on Deep Space 9 (gimme that lesbian kiss, baybee!) and Janeway on Voyager (finally, a female captain! plus I’ve had a crush on Kate Mulgrew since I was a kid.) I even have a certain fondness for Counselor Troi, even if she had the worst lines on the show.
In hindsight, Maya on Space: 1999 was a crush of mine long before I understood about crushes on women.
Who doesn’t love the new Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica (not to mention President Roslin, Boomer, Number Six, Dualla, Admiral Cain, D’anna…I think I have to lie down now)? Tortured and possibly brought back from the dead, she may be the first crush I’ve ever had on a blonde woman. It must be her triceps.
::Teresa nods in agreement about President Roslin. Let’s hear it for smart, attractive, mature women!::
But speaking of both Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica, let’s talk actress Michelle Forbes. First she was the sexiest Bajoran ev-ar, then she was the sexiest dark and conflicted commander of the Pegasus. Yay!
Gwen on Torchwood. I think I love her especially much because if this were a US show, they never would have cast someone with a gap between her front teeth and thighs bigger than toothpicks—and those are two of the things that make Gwen gorgeous, along with that incredible thick, dark hair and her fantastic smile. Over on the Doctor Who side of things, I’m sorry, but Rose was just too goofy and annoying for me. But Miss Martha Jones! Smart, dedicated, loyal, quick-thinking, and a classy dresser to boot—and she helps save the world.
Any role played by Claudia Black. ::Teresa, her eyes glassy, is nodding in agreement and rummaging for her ray-gun-shaped vibrator.:: I mean, it just wasn’t worth watching Pitch Black after…oops, wait, that’s a spoiler. Ya’ll will spank me if I give away spoilers. ::pauses to consider that again::
You know, when it comes to women, I do have a type, but it’s not like my bad-boy crushes on men. No, I seem to like my womenfolk with dark hair and pale eyes and fierce intelligence and wit. I admit it: It’s more physical than anything else. I like girls, and I like hot sexy girls in leather.
What about you, faithful readers? What makes the women of the future hotter?
Monday, February 25, 2008
THE RETREAT - Portia Da Costa
Ben Chambers, the hero of my story THE RETREAT, is what I like to call a Quiet Storm.
He's softly spoken, reserved, and watchful. But he's not a wimp or a Beta. Far from it. He doesn't have to posture or snarl or throw his weight about to exert his dominance. He can take his lover's breath away with a few choice, quietly phrased words, and bring her to her knees with nothing more than a half smile.
He's beautifully dressed [with a fondness for natty Edwardian clobber, Jeremy, even though he's a twenty-first century man] and for most of the story he keeps his clothes on. He only gets naked when it really means something and he doesn't need to parade around dripping wet with acres of pecs and abs on show to be a hunk. He can express total masculinity without waving his dick about.
He's understated but powerful, a sexual master who wields authority in low tones and with spare, elegant gestures.
If you want to see a Quiet Storm in action, watch Edward Norton in The Illusionist. He's pretty much the template for my Ben.
THE RETREAT is part of the BOUND BRITS British themed BDSM anthology and published 25th February 08. Click here to buy it from TOTAL-E-BOUND.
Ben Chambers is the perfect boyfriend, the perfect lover, the perfect man.
Sarah adores him, but she knows that despite the deliciousness of their lovemaking, their shared interests, and the fun they have together, there's a certain special something missing in their relationship.
And then, arriving for a hedonistic weekend of luxury at The Retreat, an English country house hotel, something happens that changes everything between them. A momentary, inconsequential pat on the bottom opens the door to a breathtaking world of daring and transgressive sexual pleasure… and forges a bond that's both profoundly physical and a melding of their souls.
Her clothes were outside. Where Ben was.
Her heart thud-a-thudding, she opened the bathroom door.
Ben was lying on the bed, fully clothed, and reading a magazine. He had a glass in his hand, containing an inch of amber fluid that she guessed was whisky, and as she entered, he put it to his lips and took a leisurely sip. His eyes were on her though, staring over the rim at her intently as he swallowed.
He looked like a young god idly perusing his lowly subject.
"I thought we'd take a late dinner," he said casually, then took another sip of his drink, "Unless you're hungry now?"
Only for you. Only for you.
"I…er…I'm fine. Thanks."
The answer sounded woefully incomplete, as if there should have been more.
It was astonishing how easy it would have been to add the word "master".
"Good!" he said with a strangely satisfied smile, then he finished his whisky, set the glass aside, and sprang lightly to his feet. "I think I'll freshen up. I won't be a moment."
As he walked towards the bathroom, he paused and looked back pointedly at the magazine on the bed.
He wants me to read it.
Then, with another small, knowing smile, he disappeared, closing the door behind him with a decisive snick.
For a moment, Sarah was frozen in place. Why was she afraid of a magazine? What was wrong with her?
But the shiny pages seemed to reach out and taunt her from across the room. Still not looking at it, she grabbed Ben's glass, sloshed a little more whisky into it, and gulped it down, making herself cough. Panicking, she refilled it with water and sipped a bit of that, slowly. She didn't want to get tipsy mixing spirits with the champagne already in her.
When she sat down, and started to flick the pages, she discovered that the magazine was exactly what she'd feared-hoped?-it might be.
It was about bondage.
And erotic corporal punishment.
A high quality, beautifully produced publication, but a spanking magazine nevertheless.
As she perused an image of an exotic dark-haired woman in a black corset being spanked across a stern looking man's knee, the last piece of the jigsaw of her and Ben dropped neatly into place, and the tap on her rump made crystal clear sense.
This is it. Exactly it. This is what he really likes.
The sound of the bathroom door opening made her jump physically up into the air and sent the magazine slithering to the floor. Ben walked swiftly across, picked it up, and studied the same image that Sarah had been looking at for a moment. He'd removed his tie, she noticed, and unbuttoned his waistcoat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.
Her heart did a flip as he closed the magazine, set it on the bedside table, and sat down beside her.
"I guess you know what I want now, don't you?" His brown eyes were luminous, like the whisky with a brilliant light shining through it.
Sarah's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth, but after a moment, she managed to gasp, "Yes!"
Ben's eyes were unwavering upon her, searching, searching.
"It's your choice, Sarah…I don't want us to do anything you don't like. We can simply have a delightful weekend here…relax, walk, enjoy good food and wine-" he paused for a second, "-make love…Nothing more than that."
She found her voice again. "But this…" she gestured to the magazine. "This is what you want, isn't it?"
His shoulders lifted in the slightest of shrugs. "It is…it is…"
The air in the room seemed heavy and difficult to draw in. But Sarah pulled in a lungful of it, straightened her spine, looked at him as bravely as she could.
"Then I want it too."
"Are you sure? It isn't a frivolous game to me…I take this quite seriously. You need to know that before we start."
Sarah's heart leapt, galloped. But part of her was more sure of herself than ever before in her life.
"It's serious to me too. I want it. Now."
Again. A long look.
"Very well, Sarah." Relaxed, he steepled his long elegant fingers in his lap, and cocked his head on one side, his smooth brown hair gleaming in the lamp light. "Stand up, please, and take off your robe. Then place your hands on your head, and turn slowly, showing yourself to me."
Obeying him, Sarah felt as if she were floating, insubstantial, like a feather. As she shucked off the soft robe, she felt more naked than she ever previously had with him. More exposed than the times when he'd crouched between her thighs, licking her sex.
She was astonished that the warm air on her skin felt like a caress and the uncovered state of her body a slow, lascivious exploration. Her nipples had puckered to a state of hardness so intense it was painful, and to her embarrassment, as she moved, slowly turning, a sticky trickle of arousal welled from her pussy and flowed down the inside of her thigh.
Unbelievably, Ben's dark brows lifted as she completed her circle, and he was watching the oozing progress of the sexual fluid down her leg.
"You're eager, aren't you?" he observed softly, "You're wanton and wilful…easy to rouse."
She opened her mouth to admit it and he made swift, little chopping motion. "No, you mustn't speak. You must be still and quiet now. Obedient. Without ego."
Before she could react in any way, he cupped her breast, his fingers firm, authoritative. He gave her a swift, assessing squeeze, first one, then the other, as if he were judging the flesh of a fine horse or other prized animal.
A second later, his hand went between her legs and gripped her just as possessively.
A gasp escaped her lips, and Ben gave her a tiny warning nod, his lids lowering slightly as he tightened his hold on her sex. Lifting his hand upwards, he made her rise on her toes. Not to avoid the delicious pressure, but to try and ameliorate her uncontrollable reaction to it.
In the space of a few moments, she was almost ready to come. And he hadn't even begun what he intended to do to her.
THE RETREAT is part of the BOUND BRITS anthology which also contains novellas by Sierra Cartwright, Lisabet Sarai, Barbara Huffert, Cassidy Ryan and Dakota Rebel.
Click here to buy BOUND BRITS from TOTAL-E-BOUND.
Oh, and leave a comment here on this blog post and I'll pick a winner at random for a copy of a book from my backlist.
Portia Da Costa
Writing for Black Lace for fourteen years, and hopefully, better than ever! ;)
Sunday, February 24, 2008
By Mathilde Madden
This week decadence rules on Lust Bites.
First up Portia da Costa welcomes us to The Retreat. What goes on at The Retreat? Well it's PDC, so I'll take a guess at something sumptuous and kinky.
Then Dayle A Dermatis and Teresa Noelle Roberts return with the second part of their inter-galactic journey into future hotness where they take a peek at hot futuristic women.
Does Lee Adama count?
But don't put your time machine away because on Friday Madelynne Ellis escorts us into the past. If you got a taste for hot historicals last Friday, you need to read this post. It's time for the gothic menage, Phantasmagoria.
So lie back, relax, and get ready for a wholly depraved week of Lust Bites.
Friday, February 22, 2008
By Kate Pearce
When I first moved to the USA, almost ten years ago, one of the first places I looked for was a bookstore. To my complete surprise I found a huge romance section and I realized that I’d definitely come to the right place. In the UK there is Harlequin Mills & Boon, general fiction and Black Lace. In the USA romance meets sex in a BIG way.
I devoured a gazillion historical romance novels and discovered all about fantasy rape, forced seduction, massive weeping manhood’s, tinderboxes of love and orgasms described as fireworks, waterfalls, volcanic eruptions and I LOVED it.
But a lot has happened in the past ten years and the historical romance has changed considerably. Some would say for the better-(yay, most authors use the word cock now!) some would say for the worst. Erotic historicals sell really well in the US- if they are properly marketed. The problem is that no one seems to know where the line is anymore between erotica, erotic romance and historical romance. That causes issues both for writers and for the readers who get pissed off if they buy a historical and get graphic erotic sex or buy an erotic historical and get weeping manhood’s.
Madelynne Ellis author of A Gentleman’s Wager and Phantasmagoria started out writing erotica rather than romance and finds the US distinction of erotic romance as a sub-genre less easy to pin down in the UK. A common concern that Madelynne shares is that the sudden explosion in the erotic romance section leads to “Strings of sex scenes with very little emotional context or character growth.”
Deanna Ashford also believes the lines have become blurred and wonders whether it has something to do “With the gradually changing status of women now that we’ve all become rather less inhibited about sex.” I think she has a point and I also think that historicals still allow for a lot less PCness than is necessary in a contemporary erotic romance.
Pam Rosenthal aka Molly Weatherfield who also took a writers journey from BDSM and erotica to historical erotic romance, reckons we’re on our own slow journey back to where it all began, “Starting with the prose works of the second century AD, Greeks, romance has often been erotic, raffish, déclassé and articulated by travel to erotic places, pirate kidnappings and the like.” Her only hope is that if “we’re reverting to our low-rent origins now, I’d like to keep some of the art as well.”
We recently had a discussion on The Spiced Tea Party blog about covers and whether they can help a reader decide if something is an erotic historical or a straight one. The overall consensus was that if it has a lone naked man on the cover it’s erotic, if not, it’s something else-although Pam told me to tell you that she does write very sexy even if she doesn’t get the naked male torso’s
Jane Lockwood reckons the cover of her erotic historical “Forbidden Shores’ aka ‘Ass Bandits of the Caribbean’ did not help get the message of her book across to the reading public. It’s about the abolitionist movement and a distorted love triangle where Allen is in love with Clarissa, who is in love with March, who is in love with Allen. Not your everyday scenario and the lush cover-note no male torso- and decision to market it as straight historical romance caused dear Jane a few problems along the way.
Luckily for us, Jane devised a quiz to let us all know what we are writing/reading historically-wise.
Do you find yourself sitting on the sofa looking like an idiot because you can't figure out what you're reading? Or can't even remember where your book is? Or your laptop seems to have mysteriously disappeared into your pants?
What, exactly are you reading or writing? Here's a simple quiz to determine if your book is (a) a traditional regency, (b) a regency-set historical, (c) an erotic historical, or (d) historical erotica.
The heroine meets a gentleman she is attracted to. She:
a. Asks to be introduced to him by the patronesses of Almacks
b. Invites him to her bedchamber
c. Invites him and his three friends to her bedchamber
d. Invites him and his regiment to her bedchamber
The hero is wearing:
a. Immaculately polished Hessians, and a finely tailored coat and breeches
b. Boots, breeches and a historically inaccurate shirt unbuttoned all the way down
c. Not much, a sneer, oil, and a whip
d. Tattoos, scars, piercings, a sneer, oil, and an even bigger whip
The heroine is wearing:
a. Bonnet, gown, shawl, reticule
b. Gown, barely, and lots of hair
c. A little wisp of something from Victoria's Secret and lots of hair
d. Tattoos, scars, piercings, a sneer, a really, really big whip, and a shaved head
The secondary characters include:
a. Comic servants and saintly family
b. Comic servants and tiresome family
c. Sex-obsessed companions who may or may not be human
d. Underlings you never meet but someone has to get in the lube and leather supplies
Your hero likes to spend long hours in the library:
a. Reading poetry
b. Decoding secret documents
c. Twisting himself into a pretzel for future activities, based on an ancient tome of erotic practices
d. Oiling the rack and himself
Your heroine likes to:
a. Embroider, play pianoforte, visit the poor
b. Tame stallions, write novels, etc.
c. Practice twisting herself into a pretzel etc.
d. What? Time to do anything else? I don't think so
So now we all know what we are writing and we’re clear on the difference between straight historicals, erotic romance and erotica, yes? Although I don’t see any mention of homoerotic interactions like I have in my books there. But I’m okay with that as I edge closer and closer to Erastes, the welcoming and all-encompassing hand of historical erotic romance held out waiting for the moment when it all becomes just about love.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
By Mathilde Madden
Anyone who read through the entries for Flash and Win - our Valentine's Day Competition - will know what I'm about to say: the standard was incredibly high. Oh yes. There were cat fights and hair pulling like you would not believe backstage when it came to selecting a winner.
So, in the end, I had to ask a naked Brendan Fraser winged messenger to select the winners. And he was happy to oblige. And after that he picked out the winners...
Ah, the tough life of an erotica author blogger
So thanks to Brendan, and in traditional reverse order, third prize goes to:
Leatherdykeuk: Big and Little
There’s frost on the grass but that doesn’t stop you from pushing me
over and jumping on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs. You’ve
got a huge weight advantage – sixty pounds or more – and you grasp my
wrists, spreading my arms wide. You forgot my legs, asshole. One foot
curls around yours as the other snakes up and over your head. It’s a
simple matter to flip you from there. I dump you on your fat ass and put
you into an arm lock while my other hand fumbles with your zipper. Who’s
the daddy now, fuckface?
Second prize goes to:
Mina Murray: Body Shots
Ritual candles cast a strobing glow on the black granite bench.
You smell like sex and danger.
We wrestle in the half-light, a mass of angry limbs. Taste of tequila
and lime on your tongue. I rub salt into your wounds. You stiffen inside
me: pain sharpens your desire.
Your hands tangle in my hair. Go on, I urge, pull tight.
You bite my throat, exposed to you, proffered.
There'll be a mark tomorrow, and I wish, all of a sudden, for a
fine-tipped pen to scrawl on you, indelibly, the words for what you do
And our winner:
Last night I fingered myself deep, conjuring your scent and the ghost of
your weight on my skin. Last night I rolled my nipples rough between
thumb and forefinger, remembering your callused hands. Last night's
orgasm was neatly orchestrated, swept into a towel and gone.
Tonight your mouth tastes like peaches, and I can smell the sun in your
hair. You open me and fill me, bite already aching nipples, take me over
the sofa and against the wall. We break the bed again and paint our
bodies with come and spit, and you fall asleep still inside me, home.
Please email us at lustbitesladies [at] yahoo [dot] com to arrange the posting of your prizes.
Huge congratulations to the winners and our sincerest thanks to everyone who entered. It was one of our most successful and fun competitions.
Do you agree with
my Brendan's choices. If not, which was your favourite? You could always ask your favourite naked celebrity for his opinion... why should I have all the fun?
PS: Stay tuned tomorrow for hot historicals!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Dayle: So Teresa and I were chatting one day, and we realized that most of our media crushes involved science fiction (well, for me, that’s along with musicians). The more we talked about it, the more people we came up with. Will it really be true, we wondered, that in the future all men will be hotter?
Is it the ray guns? The form-fitting futuristic material? The phallic-shaped rocket ships?
Teresa: I think it’s because so many of the hot men of science fiction are intriguing rebels—whether literally, like Han Solo or Firefly’s sexy, brown-coated buckers of authority, or the Captain-Kirk types who are willing to flout the rules to do the right thing (or to help them get into the cute green-skinned chick’s miniskirt).
Though the outfits do help.
Dayle: We also realized that while we agreed on some of our future men, we were clearly divided on many of them…which led to the realization that even in the future, we’d still fall for the same type we each do today.
Although I was young enough when the original Star Wars came out that I was all about Luke, by the time The Empire Strikes Back hit, I’d firmly landed on the side of bad boys. Oh, give me Han Solo’s cheeky grin, his never-ending supply of witty rejoinders, his questionable moral turpitude. (Teresa adds: You can’t have all of Han Solo. You must share with your sister in erotica-writing!)
I tumbled right from there into the arms of Starbuck from the original Battlestar Galactica series. (Not literally, but certainly in my adolescent fantasies, because I wrote appallingly bad Mary Sue fan fiction about him.) Was it his tight pants? The wicked twinkle in his eye? His willingness to fall into bed with just about any woman? His ever-present, phallic-shaped cigar?
Star Trek was brimming with eligible hotties, no matter which version of the show you’re talking about. Keeping in line with my preferences, let’s talk about good ol’ Trip from Enterprise. Oh, that Southern accent. Oh, that nearly naked body. Come to think of it, he and Cap’n Tightpants (okay, okay, Captain Mal Reynolds) of Firefly were cut from the same mold, weren’t they?
Then there’s the most recent incarnation of Doctor Who, played with manic cheekiness by David Tennant. He just needs someone who’ll match him wit for wit, and I’d like to think I’m up to the task. Hey, you smart, cute bad boy, come over here and gimme some. (This is where Teresa and I clearly diverge—and she’ll explain just why Christopher Eccleston dampens her panties instead.)
And what were these wicked lads doing if not preparing me for the ultimate future bad boy, Captain Jack Harkness? (S’cuse me while I fan myself.) Dimpled, nattily dressed, omnisexual and proud of it, Captain Jack fulfills just about anyone’s fantasy, doesn’t he?
Teresa: No argument on most of Dayle’s choices, especially Cap’n Tightpants and Captain Jack Harkness. [We pause while she drools quietly into her keyboard, considering some cross-over universe where they meet and pull off wild capers and then have hot man-sex.]
Then again, I’m hot for most of the men of Firefly. Brilliant, conflicted Simon, with his pretty white skin and his endearing shyness and his stubborn strength; big, dumb Jayne with his big guns, his big muscles, his big mouth, and his surprisingly big heart; and charmingly quirky Wash could have special places in my bed were they only real. (Well, maybe not Wash. Not unless Zoë wanted to play too, because otherwise she’d kill me.) Both Simon and Wash remind me of the eccentric “Is he a genius or a nutbar or both?” guys in my life, only larger than life and having a chance to show off how heroic and sexy geeks can be.
And Jayne? Well, my fantasies about him involve a ball gag, because I don’t cope well with stupid, but there’s something about the dangerous way he moves, and the way he plays with that knife of his… [Ponders whether one can be the dom while gagged.]
Babylon 5’s Captain Sheridan reminded me of my evil ex, from the red hair to the self-righteousness. But I found love among the aliens: Narn rebel leader and bad-boy mystic G’Kar. He’s slightly lizard-like, which is kinky even for me, but talk about an intriguing personality: rogue and saint, warrior and diplomat, part-time villain and part-time Christ figure. I like complicated.
And I bet he’d be fun in bed, despite the lizardy look. Or maybe because of it. Ponder the length and agility of the lizard tongue.
As for Doctor Who, I enjoy David Tennant’s Doctor. He’s adorable and funny, yet intense when he needs to be, and he looks like he belongs in a New Wave band. I can understand why Dayle’s hot for him. But he doesn’t get me in the groin.
Christopher Eccleston’s Doctor is the one who makes my panties pound. Maybe it’s the leather jacket, or the fact that he’s craggier and more worn around the edges. Or maybe it’s the darkness, the weight of time under his good humor. (Tennant’s Doctor shows that side too, but it’s harder to buy it with his boyish face.)
Or more to the erotic point: David Tennant’s Doctor would tie you and threaten you with Dire Things, and spank you a few times before you both cracked up, and you’d have a great time. Christopher Eccleston’s Doctor would tie you up and threaten you with Dire Things and you might wonder if he actually meant them, or if he’d ever untie you. And you’d have a different, scarier, and more interesting (to me) great time.
Dayle: [Who has dragged herself back from watching appropriate SF DVDs with her rocket-ship-shaped vibrator.] Come on, we know some of you are SF geeks at heart. Tell us who you want to meet in a dark spaceship corridor with an alien probe just for you…
And tune in next week when we follow up with Crush Wednesday: In the Future, All Women Will Be Hotter!
Monday, February 18, 2008
I have a confession to make, I love musical theatre. There is nothing better than going to a great show with brilliant songs and coming out afterwards in an ebullient mood humming these songs to yourself. I say humming because I can’t sing, I never have been able to sing and anything over and above humming, according to my family, would be considered a mortal sin.
Now you all ask, why on earth would my love of musical theatre have anything to do with Lustbites, and erotic writing let alone the title of my post Men In Chains. Amazingly enough it has because it was musical theatre that first made me realise how much of a turn on a seeing a semi-naked chained man was. I have consequently discovered it is not just a turn on for me but for many other members of the female population. And I suppose some of the male population depending in which direction their desires lie.
It all started one evening when I was sitting in the theatre watching of all things the new West End production of Joseph. Now here I must explain to the uninitiated among you that Joseph is sold into slavery by his brothers, because they are jealous of him. Once he arrives as a slave in
Even if you didn’t watch the reality TV programme Any Dream Will Do, I’m sure that many of you will know that the guy playing Joseph is the well deserved winner of that programme, Lee. Not only is he a good looking guy with a great voice, he has a very tasty physique as well and the producers of the show have clearly taken advantage of this by dressing him in a very scanty loincloth that shows off his nicely developed pecs and muscular legs to perfection.
During the first half of the show I’d been hearing the lady sitting next to me uttering soft sighs every time Lee appear on stage. It was at this point that she must have overheard a comment I made to the friends who accompanied me and she gathered, quite correctly, that we had all seen the show before. (It is the first time I’ve gone to see a musical more than once, honest – and it wasn’t just to watch the show that I’d gone again, I hasten to add – I was also prompted by somewhat seamier thoughts!!)
At this point the lady next to me turned to me and said ‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Then she added lustfully, ‘Does he wear that small loincloth in the second half?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, and then added, ‘and he’s chained.’ At which point the poor woman sighed very loudly and almost literally dissolved into her seat.
I know it isn’t often you get to see a tasty looking semi-naked chained guy in the flesh with the opportunity to gaze on his fine body for a fair length of time. In fact if I’m honest I can’t think of any previous occasions when such an opportunity has arisen, more's the pity. This got me wondering and I spoke to a number of my female friends. The majority of them, it appears, have similar fantasies of a scantily clad, chained man. The general concensus was that the guy has got to be good looking, and very scantily dressed, if not nude and he most definitely has to be chained or at least restrained in a similar fashion. Ropes do it for some, chains for others.
Here I should hasten to add that he can’t look at all cowed or pathetic: he’s got to look strong, resentful and maybe angry – dangerous if he were released. So we have this powerful guy chained and we can do to him what we wish, or alternatively force him to do what we wish to us.
One of Maecenus’s servants cautiously approached the slave on the block and unfastened the ties of his tunic. It fell to the floor, leaving Taranis wearing just a short, full, Greek style skirt of white linen draped around his narrow waist. There was a gasp of admiration from those present. He was the epitome of male perfection that Roman’s admired so much. The thin strip of white contrasted perfectly with the slave’s tanned skin, which had been heavily oiled so that it had a slick sheen, putting even more emphasis on the well-developed muscles of his wide chest, strong arms and near perfect legs. He was a magnificent looking creature, and the bids began to come in hard and fast; twenty, forty, then eighty thousand denarii.
When an obviously very excited Gaius Cuspius bid a hundred thousand denarii, Maecenus held up his hand. ‘As some of you know already, the best is yet to come. In my estimation the true bidding is only just about to begin!’
He turned to look at Taranis and the slave stiffened anxiously, an entreating expression crossing his face for the briefest of moments before he regained full control of himself.
Aulus said softly, ‘now you are about to see what I saw last night. I am sure you will be impressed by the sight, as I was, dear Julia.’
She held her breath as Maecenus stepped forward and pulled off the brief linen skirt to reveal the slave in all his naked glory. It was as if someone had just got out a paint box and smeared red across the slave’s high cheekbone as they turned suddenly scarlet. Clearly he was ashamed because his sexual organ was in an obvious state of arousal. ‘He is magnificent, is he not?’ Aulus added chillingly. ‘I wager that even Poppaea would have trouble in accommodating a cock of that auspicious size.’
Women have always been considered the weaker sex but now that equality has gone a long way to redressing that problem, we are no longer going to be carried off by some handsome knight and imprisoned in a romantic castle. Nevertheless, deep down I think there are many romantic fantasies we still find stimulating. For some it might well be some guy abducting them and forcing his desires upon them, but for us liberated ladies it is the other way around. We want to be in charge and bend our captive male to our evil will.
Looking into the psychological aspects of the fantasy, it clearly has something to do with power over men, but not to the point where they become subdued in any way. A chained, powerful guy can still look dangerous, yet we can do what we like to them and they can do nothing to stop us, which equates to me as the perfect position for a female to find herself in. In a situation like this even the weakest of women becomes the powerful one, but deep in the back of one's mind is the titillating thought that if he escaped he could turn the tables on her and she would be dominated by this dangerous creature.
It was at this point I re-examined the books I’ve written and I realised that in all but one I played out my fantasy in the story. I’ve figured out that is why I like to write historicals or fantasy. It is usually much easier to set up a complex plot in which my strong sexy hero can be imperilled in some way and end up in chains. Usually, may I add, in the control of some seductive female or another who can use him to slake all her sensual desires. Although I have on some occasions left them in somewhat more perilous situations than that. So not only do I enjoy writing my books I find that I can play out my fantasies as well and hopefully entertain at the same time.
The lights were bright in the centre of the room, blinding him a little and making it difficult to see the individual faces of the audience. His chains were clipped into rings set in the marble floor and he was forced to stand there naked and exposed while Sarin proudly announced that this was his new slave – the traitor,
‘Ensure he behaves,’ Sarin said to one of the naked Nubians.
The Nubian stepped behind
The Nubian’s erection felt impossibly huge.
He no longer knew who was touching him, whether the slave was male or female, as his pleasure increased. He just relaxed and allowed the myriad of sensations to overwhelm his senses.
Friday, February 15, 2008
By Mathilde Madden and Erastes
Recently we’ve said goodbye to some of our much-loved Lusties. As we waved them off to big, new thrilling projects, we started to ask ourselves how could we ever replace them. Well, of course, we couldn’t. But we did decide to think about new members - and one name was suggested that got a hugely enthusiastic response.
Erastes has written some wonderful guest articles for Lust Bites that resulted in some of our busiest ever comment threads. As she writes almost exclusively in the intriguing niche of male/male historical romance there is always a lot of interest in her work.
I caught up with her as the closing credits of Torchwood rolled, to let her know what she was in for.
You've been a good friend of Lust Bites since the blog started. How did you feel to be asked to join?
Thank you, it's a great raunchy blog and there's little enough good unashamed lust on the net this days. I was hugely surprised and very flattered, obviously. I'm just a noisy nuisance with one book out which doesn't really fit anywhere, so to be in the Lusties company is pretty overwhelming. But I'm very happy about it.
Well some of us have written ten zillion books and some of us have only done one or two. And some of us just do short stories. Lust Bites is nothing if not diverse! So what can our readers expect from you?
Double the goodness, I hope, as my motto is "one man good, two men BETTER."
I'll be discussing gay sex when encouraged to do so; perhaps some free short stories, definitely snippets of stuff not seen elsewhere.
I know gay erotica is not to everyone's taste, but I hope to convert people if I can. Male/male erotica can be molten hot, but then I'm biased.
Plus of course, it's always nice to find hot pictures of snogging men to share if all else fails.
Well I know that male/male erotica is *always* popular on Lust Bites. I'll be encouraging it and I'm sure I'll not be the only one
Tell us about your writing. Why male/male erotica? And you sound as if you've faced some differing opinions about the kind of stuff you write. Did you struggle to find a publisher?
I wanted to write for years, but simply couldn't find stories. I tried a children's story about 15 years ago but it foundered and just as well because what I'd written was far too close to Terry Prachett's witches series, one or two other fantasy things went the same way, so I gave up in disgust.
It wasn't until I found male/male fanfiction in 2003 that I was inspired to try writing some for myself. I was turned on by m/m fiction, it was as simple as that, and I'd never found heterosexual fiction arousing. I found it strange at first because I didn't know anyone else in the genre, but as I got to know others I found that it was quite a normal reaction - a lot of women (lots of them married, straight - some even lesbian) found straight erotica a little squicky but m/m fiction hot.
Anyway... fanfic. I really enjoyed it, and although I stayed in fanfic (in Harry Potter fandom) for several years I realised that there was nothing I could DO with it. So the first thing I created, which was a novella based on Lucius Malfoy, I decided to "orginalise" for hopeful publication - but it refused to be converted and I ended writing Standish instead which has no connection to fandom at all.
I did have some trouble getting published - part of that was I just didn't know what the HELL I was doing. I tried for ages to get an agent because I was told (by books) that's what one DID, then gave up and tried UK Publishers but Gay Mens Press was going down the pan and no-one else was risking the genre (particularly NOT costume drama for gay men!) so I went to the States and found a small publisher almost immediately.
Here and then I've seen the attitude from some gay male writers that "women shouldn't write it" or "can't write it" but from my sales record of short stories so far (over 20) in anthologies aimed at gay men, I think I'm proving them all wrong. I hope.
Why the name Erastes? Was that a conscious choice to hide your gender?
I wanted a pseudonym because well, of course I was convinced that one day I'd stop writing that mucky gay erotica and start writing "literature". One day. *cough *
And I'd been studying the Erastes/eromenos tradition from Greece for a while as research.
Yes. For *research*. Including the pictures!
I liked the idea of Erastes as a name because for me it (as an adult male being the older and more experienced member of a m/m relationship) seemed to sum up what I was writing about.
I never meant to actually misrepresent myself as a man, and if I'd been writing sci-fi I don't think anyone would have cared what sex I was - but it became a sensitive issue and I quickly "came out" as a woman. Some people say I should change the name but I like it.
And actually now I can't see why mucky erotica can't also be literature, anyway.
Who do you write your books for? You say sometimes gay men have reacted oddly to your work - who would you say is typical Erastes fan?
I write entirely for me. As I said, I was told that there wasn't even a market for gay historical fiction when I started out, and I'm happy to find that that is changing, slowly. I get my ideas from various places and then let the characters guide me - often there are themes in my books that I'm told "publishers aren't going to like that" but I worry about that later on. My criteria for "is it hot?" is whether it turns me on.
I think some gay men are a little baffled by what we see in it, as they in general I would imagine, wouldn't find anything too thrilling about watching or reading about het sex. Some are a little more militant, but I don't believe that writing is anything about gender (except for real life stories, which I wouldn't touch)
Average fan? That's very difficult to say, because there are so many people who don't comment. But going on the emails and comments I have had, I'd say it's a surprisingly even mix of men and women, both gay and straight. I was told when I started out that gay men (1) wouldn't read gay historical romance and (2) written by women - I'm very happy to be proved right on both counts, there. I've even had wonderful and heartbreaking emails from closeted men who are so happy to read my book - and are getting away with it because of the very innocuous cover.
That's amazing. Standish does have a very staid cover (and a respectable title) considering the content!
On that subject do you have your books on show in your house? Do you give copies to friends or hide them away under your bed?
I'd like to say I have one nice tidy shelf but my house collapsed into book chaos a long time ago, but they aren't hidden away, gay porn rubs shoulders with Pratchett and Dodie Smith. Most people know what I write and at first I was embarrassed for a long while. "Um.. I write... historical romance." was as much as I would say but then someone asked me "aren't you proud?" when they found out what it was I did write and I had to think, yes I really was. After that I started being more upfront about it.
I have these fantasies of one day being interviewed like someone like JK Rowling with my books behind me on a nice tidy shelf! I gave away a few copies of Standish to friends, but only had a very limited number to play with.
I really want to ask you about research. One questions that seems to bug erotica authors is the old 'do you do everything you write about' the 'bet you have fun researching' nudge, nudge, wink, wink. So I’m sorry to ask it. But how do you research? Do you ask gay men, go online, watch a lot of porn (!) make it up?
As dearly as I would love to have two or three twinks in the house with exhibitionist qualities it's not likely to happen.
I'm a woman - that helps hugely. I know what it's like to make love to a man, how his cock feels in my hand, my mouth - how to give a blowjob etc etc so I started there.
As I worked on, I did a lot research online - one of my most invaluable sources is Free Gay Pix Too which has everything I need in terms of positions and "Is that even possible?"
I have a couple of gay men friends online too who I discuss nitty gritty stuff with.
I recently wanted to know if intercrual sex was possible for two men at the same time, and was informed that it wasn't. shame. So that scene was quickly scrubbed
Intercrual? Is that with the cock between the thighs? I'm trying to figure...?
Yes. Evidently its not. Can't see why, face to face, but both men said no. I want to see proof, damn it!
I'm doing something with my fingers right now to try and picture it that you probably don't want to know about... Ahem, so what are you working on right now? Sounds like it's something fun!
I've got a second novel finished which is set in the English Civil War but the publisher wants me to make some specific changes which I haven't decided if I want to do yet. It starts warm and sunny and gets gradually darker but that's what actually happened.
As for my WIP, it's anything but fun. It's a novel based on a true story of people my parents knew in the early 1960's and is about a married closeted stockbroker who falls in love for the first time in his late 30's - with the teenager next door. It's not a HEA, and it's been hell to write.
HOWEVER. Fun is on the horizon as my next project is going to be a sequel of sorts to Standish where I follow one of the secondary characters, Fleury, across the pond and watch him deflower anything that moves and leave a trail of chaos in his wake.
I know a lot of our readers will be keen to find out more about all of those. Historical are very popular with the Lusties and our readers – especially historicals with a bit of a twist.
Thank you so much for talking to me. I know you are going to fit right in a Lust Bites
You are very welcome! And thank you - I can't wait to spread the smut!
I mean serious gay erotica
Look out for more from Erastes soon. Meanwhile you can visit her website here
Posted by Mathilde Madden at 8:23 AM
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
By Mathilde Madden
Tomorrow is Valentines Day and you know who we love? You, our wonderful readers. Oh yes we do, we love every single one of you. Without you, this blog would be rather like us just sitting in a room talking to people who don't exist. And, you know, we kind of have this whole day job where that happens...
(Although, I would like to point out, that Alfie the werewolf definitely does exist.)
So we love you, right. And we're expressing our love the best way we know how, 'cause we are living in a material world and so why don't you let us shower you with gifts...
And how about this for a shower to remember?
Damn, sorry, clicked the wrong button. Unforgivable, I know... I'll have him out of your way just as soon as I find the right... uh, here we go. So if you could just scroll down a little...
I said SCROLL DOWN
Come on, you can scroll quicker than that.
No, your computer is not 'frozen'. Don't you start with Windows Vista this, Windows Vista that. Scroll down!
Thank you. Now. I meant this shower here
Pretty impressive huh? Here's how it breaks down:
FIRST PRIZENow, size queens, if you like the idea of something that big being pushed through your letter box, here’s the deal. We love you and all, but we want to be sure you love us back. We want some sugar from you in return
Divine Torment by Janine Ashbless
Suite Seventeen by Portia da Costa
Barbarian Prize by Deanna Ashford
Wild Card by Madeline Moore
The Silver Collar by Mathilde Madden
The Silver Crown by Mathilde Madden
The Silver Cage by Mathilde Madden
Where Have All the Cowboys Gone? by Kate Pearce
Possession by Mathilde Madden, Madelynne Ellis and Anne Tourney
Standish by Erastes (not pictured)
Lying in Mid Air by Anne Tourney (not pictured)
Plus Quickies (Black Lace mini short story collections), bookmarks and anything else I find lying around
Possession, The Silver Werewolves Trilogy and Gothic Blue plus extras
Possession, The Silver Collar and Gothic Blue plus extras
We will be awarding these three fabulous prizes to the three best pieces of flash fiction left in the comments.
So tell us a story in sexy story in 100 words or less. If you’re not a writer – or just not in the mood to write (although we really encourage everyone to have a go – we’ll be kind) feel free to also comment and tell us what you think of the posted stories.
First time commenters welcome - delurking encouraged.And to get you in the mood, here some flashes of inspiration the last time we indulged our love of short-shorts
Lusties in disguise tolerated - flash, but, no, you can't win
Ex-lusties, yes, you are eligible: flash us.
And good luck!
The gorgeous multi-coloured heart image is shamelessly stolen from last year's Valentine's comp (lines now closed) - because I love it. It's Toxic Schizophrenia by Tim Noble and Sue Webster. And the heart right up top is Hanging Heart by Jeff Koons