Love and Lust

I have always been an avid reader. I’m sure that most writers must be because in my estimation you have to love books in order to want to write. I vividly remember reading my first romantic novel when I was in about my second or third year of senior school. I started reading Gone With the Wind on the bus on the way home from school on the Friday evening and read it all weekend until I finished it, whereupon I returned, rather bleary eyed, to my classroom on the Monday morning. It is a long book and even though I am a fast reader it was quite a tome to read in such a short space of time, but I just couldn’t put it down because between those pages I’d discovered romance and sexual desire. Scarlett, in my estimation, was stupid in her infatuation for the insipid Ashley and even more stupid for failing to understand that the incredibly sexy Rhett Butler was in love with her. I loved the book, but I was so disappointed because when Rhett swept Scarlett into his arms and carried her up the stairs we never learnt what went on behind that bedroom door. I wanted more, so much more.

He saw concern in her blue eyes for a moment before she managed to conceal it and he knew that she feared he might perish in battle. Life as a knight could be dangerous and death was always a possibility. He could not in good conscious lead her to believe otherwise. He would go to Richard and beg permission to marry her right now if he could but, despite the fact that she had loathed Hugh, she still had to maintain the necessary period of mourning before she took a new husband.

As Stephen looking lovingly at Edwina he was reminded of the last time she had been in his bed; her lips swollen with kisses, her blue eyes languorous with desire, those luscious breast and sweet, cherry coloured nipples. Lust and love entwined like the strands of a rope, binding her even more securely to him than a wedding ring ever could. Just thinking of her, remembering the last night they had spent together and the passion they had shared, had turned his cock rock hard. He could feel it pressing against the heavy constriction of his chain mail leggings.

Of course I was innocent enough to be unaware that pornographic literature (as it was then called) existed at this time, so I continued to read avidly, always secretly hoping that I would find a book that would open that bedroom door and let me creep inside. I read Jane Austin, great but even a kiss was barely mentioned let alone lustful desire, although I’ve no doubt that Miss Austin might well have dreamed of slipping between the sheet one dark night with her handsome Mr Darcy, especially if in her imagination he looked like Colin Firth dressed in that wet, white lawn shirt.

I devoured the Dennis Wheatley novel, which gave me an interesting glimpse into the world of the occult and a fascinating ride through the entire French revolution but still, frustratingly, barely any sex. Then I found Forever Amber and Angelique, where there were heroines who used men, satisfied their sexual desires and slept with whoever they wanted. Yet, now that I was older and knew more about lust and desire, the bedroom scenes seemed overly cautious and rather insipid to me.

Then a multitude of bodice rippers appeared on the bookshelves. They were historical novels, which I’d always loved, with wild heroines, lusty heroes and people who actually sated their sexual desires between the pages. To an extent this did satisfied my need for sensual encounters, because we were allowed through the bedroom door but the sex were short with few very descriptive passage and, as often as not, left the reader panting for more. I didn’t want to be greedy but why did they spent ages building up to the sensual encounter then glossing over it the blink of an eye?

By then of course attitudes had changed somewhat and Lady Chatterley was freely available but that wasn’t a turn on at all in my opinion. While the Story of O, didn’t really excite me that much either, mainly because I couldn’t understand a heroine who enjoyed being dominated and humiliated. I must admit here that many might enjoy it but it just wasn’t my taste so it didn’t turn me on.

What a blessed relief it was when Black Lace books appeared on the scene. At last I found the books I wanted to read. The first one I ever purchased was The Captive Flesh by Cleo Cordell and I loved it so much I read it in one sitting. It was the story of two young women who are captured and imprisoned in a harem ruled over by a handsome dissolute man, Kassim. There was sex, bondage, even homoerotic encounters - the book had it all and after that I was desperate to read more Black Lace. I read a fair number of them – some with a romance at the heart of the story, others just stories with a string of titillating erotic encounters.

‘Let me feel you inside me,’ she begged, knowing that Taranis was right and that every moment they spent together increased the danger they were in.

He covered her body and slid into her soft moist core. Tension and excitement surged through her as he started to sensuously move his hips, all the while staring at her face, as if he could somehow fix her features in his mind forever. Sirona’s hands reached for his shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscles. She pulled him towards her, wanting to feel the entire weight of him pressing down on her as he thrust harder, knowing that never in a myriad of lifetimes could any man ever replace Taranis in her heart.

Taranis fucked her with smooth hard strokes, angling his body so that his shaft stimulated her clit at the same time. As she felt the weight of him powering against her pelvis, an intense erotic pleasure welled up inside her, becoming so strong she thought she might expire with bliss. The Elysian Fields moved closer and closer as she heard his breath coming in short urgent gasps.

The sun had set at last and darkness began to descend as the moon appeared in the sky. Its soft silvery light bathed their bodies in an eerie almost magical light as their pleasure peaked. As Sirona climaxed she heard Taranis whisper fevered words of love in her ear as he too came.

I began to understand that, for me, I didn’t really enjoy the books that didn’t have a romance at the heart of the story. Sex purely for the sake of lustful desire wasn’t quite satisfying enough for me and after a time it became plain boring if there wasn’t some kind of emotion involved. I freely admit that I’m a romantic at heart and of course many readers might not feel as I do. This world would be an uninteresting place if everyone was the same.

For me lust was good but love and lust together were far more exciting, so I decided to pick up a pen and write my own Black Lace with everything I wanted to read included between those, hopefully steamy, pages. I was fortunate enough to have my first proposal accepted and Savage Surrender was born. A story of a young woman, Rianna, who is forced into an unwanted marriage with a man she has never laid eyes on but falls in love with Tarn, a young man who has rebelled against her husband, Sarin, and is now his slave. She loves Tarn but she also finds herself sexually attracted to her husband and soon she is seduced by the sexual depravity of Sarin’s court. I loved these characters so much that I wrote a sequel, Wild Kingdom continuing the story of Rianna and Tarn.

‘How I’ve longed for this moment,’ he said softly, his voice taut with passion as he lifted her, tipping her buttocks away from him so that he could slide into her with one smooth stroke. He jerked her back against his rigid stomach, filling her with the hot hardness of his flesh as he held his hand across the soft swell of her lower belly. The pressure of his fingers further increased the sensation of fullness she experienced as he began to roll his hips and thrust at the same time. A low moan escaped Rianna’s lips as he compounded the assault on her senses by lightly tugging at her clit, rolling the swollen flesh between finger and thumb.

The water eddied and swirled around them, splashing over the sides of the tub in a steady stream as Tarn’s movements became harder and more vigorous. All Rianna’s attention was focused on her relentlessly rising pleasure as she felt his body power harder and deeper. She had no wish for this to end, yet all too soon her stomach contracted as the sensations erupted in an orgasm so sweetly profound that she felt faint from its power as it ripped through her flesh.

More books followed but probably without even being fully aware of it at the time, there was always a passionate romance at the heart of my story. Even though my novels were always classed as erotica, I always felt that wasn’t quite what I wanted and so I was relieved when Virgin reclassified them as ‘Erotic romance’. Now quite often they are available on the romance shelves, which makes them more freely available to the book buying public and why not? Sex in books is not considered all that risqué any more, in fact it is much more acceptable these days, thank goodness.

Now we know all that goes on behind the bedroom door, on the kitchen table, outside under the trees or anywhere else we care to think of. Readers now have a choice – love, lust or maybe just a mixture of both. It is up to you, so go ahead and enjoy!

Competition Winner

To announce the winner of the competition on Monday's post it was a toss up between this picture and one of a champagne bottle.
No surprisingly I chose this.

It does have some relevance to the competition for a copy of Templar Prize as this is a picture from the movie "Kingdom of Heaven", which tells the story of how Jerusalem was lost to the Saracens.

To continue after being just a tad distracted for a moment. I have no polyhedral dice, unlike Janine, so I put all the names in a hat -speaking figuratively - and came up with a winner.

A signed copy of TEMPLAR PRIZE will be going to cristyjan.

As I'm feeling extra-generous today I'm also giving a copy to crystal adkins.

Congratulations both of you and I hope you enjoy the book. Please let me know your addresses by e-mailing me at deanna(at)deannaashford(dot)com.

Templar Prize

by
Deanna Ashford

I think I am having a few Ridley Scott moments at present. On Friday we had the amazing excerpt from Janine’s wonderful book, Divine Torment, which was described by the publisher as ‘Like Gladiator set in a mythical realm.’ Now I’m posting an excerpt from my new book Templar Prize. The story is set during the time of the Third Crusades, just three years after the events portrayed in the Ridley Scott movie Kingdom of Heaven.

Much like most women of her time the heroine, Edwina, has been forced into an unhappy loveless marriage. Her husband is in the service of King Richard the Lionheart and they accompany him on his on his quest to retake Jerusalem from the Saracens. Edwina’s husband dies unexpectedly and she is reunited with her former lover Stephen the Comte de Chalais. However the path before them is shrouded in danger and betrayal.

Storms at sea, cruel emperors, tyrant kings, renegade Knights Templar and Saracen noblemen all make their desperate situation even more perilous until even Saladin himself has a part to play in their destiny.

Comment on this post and you’ll be entered into a draw to WIN A COPY of TEMPLAR PRIZE. (Don’t forget to identify yourself somehow in your Comment.) The winner will be announced on Thursday.

To set the scene for the excerpt: Edwina, dressed as a squire, has accompanied Stephen to the Templar fortress of Sarak which is commanded by Master Bernard le Motte a fanatical man who believes any kinds of sexual contact is a perversity. Stephen and Edwina share a room and it comes to Bernard’s attention that the new arrival has an unnatural relationship with his squire. Determined to witness this for himself Bernard uses the secret tunnels in the citadel to spy on Stephen and Edwina.

‘Master,’ Gerard whispered anxiously.

‘Silence,’ Bernard hissed, his excitement rising to fever pitch. He felt his penis grow harder but studiously he tried to ignore it, concentrating on his need to bear witness to this appalling incident.

The squire was lying on his belly, his body covered by his long shirt, with only his small pert buttocks bare. Bernard watched in fascination as Stephen thrust his cock deep inside the young lad and heard him give a loud groan of pleasure. To be honest Bernard was unable to see this as clearly as he would have wished, because in the process of impaling the squire, the comte had moved and all he could see was Stephen’s muscular buttocks thrusting lewdly back and forth. Even so he was captivated by the sight of the erotic movements, finding the vision so compelling that his own shaft grew even harder until it felt as if it might explode. There was almost an animalistic air about these two people enjoying such forbidden pleasures and Bernard was so very tempted to slide his hand under his surplice and press it against his aching cock.

Soon his breathing became as laboured as that of Stephen’s, who was still energetically pumping into the willing squire. Bernard’s heart missed a beat and his fingers curled, his ragged nails digging into the stone wall as Stephen withdrew and flipped the squire over. The boy’s long shirt concealed his sex for a moment and then the comte ripped it off, revealing the surprising sight of two round firm breasts tipped by erect cherry coloured nipples. Bernard’s gaze slid down to the squire’s groin hardly able to believe it was a woman. What had possessed this knight to bring a woman, disguised as a boy, to this sacred place he thought indignantly.

Yet he could not fail to be moved by her nakedness. In truth he might have envisaged it in his youth but he had never seen a woman unclothed before and it was a magnificently inspiring sight. He began to understand how such a sinful creature might have tempted Adam in the Garden of Eden. Her long golden hair confined in a fat plait flopped across one pert breast. As she lay there smiling seductively at the comte she parted her thighs to reveal all of herself to the onlookers. Bernard swallowed and gave a soft sigh as he watched the line of wicked pink flesh opening up between her pale thighs. He so wanted to be there naked on the bed with them and he watched enthralled as Stephen eased his rigid cock back inside the woman again.

As the thrusting started, she wrapped her legs around Stephen’s lean hips and Bernard could not resist the temptation a moment longer. His hand surreptitiously reached beneath his surplice and he grabbed hold of his penis, rubbing it through the rough fabric of his breeches, while he watched the two of them rutting together.

Their pleasure appeared to rise as swiftly as his. He saw Stephen’s muscles go rigid and he emitted a loud grunt as he climaxed. That noise was followed by a sharp scream from the woman as she too came. Confusion erupted inside Bernard’s body as he felt a quite indescribable pleasure consume him. Then his own muscles tensed and his cock pulsed with a wild pumping pressure. The strange sensation was followed by a wonderful warmth and a powerful sense of release.

Unable to comprehend what had happened to him, he leant back against the far wall, shivering slightly as he became aware of a strange damp stickiness in his breeches and he realised in disgust that he had allowed himself to climax, something he had never allowed himself to do before, because self-gratification was a mortal sin in his eyes.

Yet none of this was truly his fault he told himself, it had come about because of the Comte de Chalais’s strange shameful behaviour. Bernard vowed that he would be punished for this as well as his other crimes. Turning he leant towards Gilbert. ‘Go find the strongest sleeping potion we have, put it in a jug of our finest wine and send it to the comte.’

Deanna Ashford
www.deannaashford.com