I love vikings!

by Kate Pearce



Once upon a time, Kate was bored and fed up writing about baggage-laden bisexual Regency Rakes. She wondered what to write. What was the stupidest idea her over-active imagination had come up with recently? Ah, yes-futuristic intergalactic vikings who loved women, loved them so much they were prepared to do almost anything to keep their females happy-even share them with other men to make sure they were primed and ready and keen to make babies.





Kate was keen on this idea because she realized she could make the whole world up and no one would be able to tell her that grandfather clocks didn't exist in 1815 or that debutantes weren't called that in the Regency period. If she wanted 2 suns and purple sand and unbelievably sexy men, she could simply make it so, just like Captain Jean Luc Picard.

Cue gratuitous picture of Captain Picard who isn't a viking at all but is very definitely a space traveler like Douglass Fraser in PLANET MAIL, the first book of the series who crash lands her United Parcel Planetary space ship on Planet Valhalla and sets up a whole series of books in which wise cracking cynical Earth women get to take advantage of gorgeous hunky sex mad vikings. A match made in heaven, or in the heavens maybe.








Of course, these wouldn't be those unpleasant vikings we learned about at school. These were more fashioned on the Hollywood version as embodied by Kirk Douglas and Tony Curtis-a film which made a very powerful impression on my young mind. I'm not sure why, because when I saw again it as an adult I laughed myself silly, but I had a degree in history by then and thought I was so educated :)



Anyway so that's how I got my crazy idea about writing about intergalactic vikings who love sex- the'Star Trek meet Tony Curtis' chronicles. Strangely enough, for such a light-hearted enterprise, the first book, PLANET MAIL, did really well, helped by a fabulous cover.



And here, with no further introduction, is a small excerpt from SECURED MAIL which comes out on July 30th from Ellora's Cave in e-book form, and maybe, much later as a print book. Sven, our hero, is finding out that on Valhalla, the female, aka Earth woman Thea Cooper rules...

“In the ancient days of Valhallan culture, the female ruled. The queen and priestesses used to bring their mates here to remind them of their duties.”
Sven stared at the king. What in Thor’s name was he on about? Marcus inclined his head.
“You may speak.”
“I don’t understand. My duty to what? To you and the queen?”
“Nay, your duty to your woman.”
Sven licked his dry lips. “I have no woman.”
“I believe you do and she intends to remind you of your responsibilities. Perhaps you need to learn that being subservient to your soul mate is all about trust.”
“You would let the queen do this to you?”
Marcus smiled. “She already has.” His smile faded and he nodded at Woden. “Oil him.”
Sven refused to look at any of his companions as Woden spread oil over his chest and back. He flinched as Woden’s hands slid lower to cover his buttocks, his balls and his cock. Sensation flooded through him as the orange-scented oil heated on his skin and his shaft stirred. The king spoke again.
“Put on his cock ring.”
Harlan stepped forward, his expression calm and grasped Sven’s cock. With a few practiced movements he had Sven half-erect and slid the thick metal ring down over his shaft and tightened it.
“Are you ready, My Queen?”
“Yes, Sire.”
Sven’s gaze jerked to the right as the queen appeared, clad only in jeweled rubies and thick gold chains, her long dark hair flowing down her back. She approached Sven and stood in front of him. He held his breath as she stared at his rapidly expanding rod.
“Make him hard.”
The queen bent forward, her breasts swinging slightly and took his cock in her mouth. Sven tried not to speak as the metal ring bit into his swelling shaft. He arched to angle his hips into the rhythm set by the queen’s mouth but he couldn’t move. A groan burst from his mouth as his balls clenched and drew closer to his body.
“Gag him, Bron.”
Before Sven could utter a protest, Bron was behind him, expertly shoving a ball gag into his mouth and tying the leather behind his head. The king stepped forward, two clamps in his hands and applied them to Sven’s aching nipples. Sven began to pant, the overload of sensations driving him wild. He was so close to coming, his focus on the queen’s red lips as they moved over his cock, the hollowing of her cheeks and the ruby red flash of her jewels as she bent toward him.


Yum-I enjoyed re-reading that myself. It even makes me want to go and start book #3, which will be about Harlan.

If you comment today and tell me about your own feelings about vikings, Tony Curtis or Star Trek, you could win a print copy of "Planet Mail" to get you all excited about reading Secured Mail!

Kate x

Introducing Edie Bingham

by Olivia Knight

Lust Bites has a brand-new shiny spangly contributor in the flock / stable / chocolate-tray, or whatever the correct collective noun is for erotica writers: Edie Bingham, author of The Pride and Southern Spirits, improv comedian, stand-up, closet-cat, and would-be trainspotter. So while the French celebrate the murder of the aristocracy and the birth of La République, we’ve captured Edie and put her in a cage to display to you.

The cage is for her own protection.

Edie Bingham's first novel, The Pride, was written as a bet. Everyone who spent their entire formative years earnestly penning novels in imitation of Jo from Little Women will now lob rocks, fruit, and boxes of unpublished manuscripts, hence the nice thick iron bars around her – because it got published, it’s brilliant, and we’re damn proud to have her on board. (Or, at least, imprisoned.) She’ll dish the details on Friday, but for now – it’s about a woman from a race of hidden people with cat-like traits who tries to escape her traditions to live among men, only to fall for a sensitive historian . When she is abducted and taken back to her Pride, he follows and rescues her. Plus she has a tail, which is cool.
Her second novel, Southern Spirits, also has paranormal elements - a very special train carries people on a ghost tour of the Deep South. In a nutshell, it’s an erotic murder-mystery-ghost-story-detective-novel-contemporary-thriller (as opposed to her earlier erotic paranormal-sci-fi-contemporary… she doesn’t do boxes, cage notwthistanding). Southern Spirits will be released on 5 August this year. As someone with an advance copy, trust me: it steams.
So while we have her safely behind bars, let’s interrogate her…

How did you get into writing erotica?
Ray Liotta walked out of a cornfield and said to me "If you write it, they will cum…" Actually it was an argument about cat costumes being the sexiest for fancy dress which turned into a short story about a woman who was actually a were-cat hiding in plain sight in the chorus line of the musical Cats and gets discovered by a groupie. It just went from there I think… Plus I quite like writing about sex, which helps.

What are you working on at the moment?
I'm researching the next book , tentatively called The Forsaken, - about a hidden Crystaline Cavern buried in the desert that moves position with the moon and has a long history of folklore surrounding it. The central character is a folklore historian defending her archeologist father's shattered reputation by trying to find the cavern which supposedly has healing and rejuvenating properties. It has echoes of stories like King Solomon's Mines, She, possibly a dash or two of Indiana Jones... but with a lot more sex.

What is your mental picture of the "typical" erotica writer, and are you one?
I was once told at a comedy gig that I didn't look like a "porn writer" so I told him I'd shaved off my handle bar moustache and left my flares at home. I always picture some lady in tweeds, I think, though I'm sure there really isn't a "typical" type.

Your other personality does stand-up – do your erotica and your comedy feed into each other? Can erotica be funny or does it ruin the moment if someone cracks up?
There are really odd similarities – writing for both requires me to be thinking about engineering a very specific emotional response – either laughter or arousal. They both utilize similar skills of observing human nature and how people behave. I do think my comedy background helps with the lighter moments in my books and I suppose I tend to make sure there is actually some comedic elements in there because it's such a big part of my life. As far as erotica goes, I think it needs a lot of thought but if it's there and works, it’s wonderful. I hate it if it's written badly as I do think it so easily can spoil the mood. I personally find humour extremely attractive from the right man or woman, and extremely irritating from the wrong ones. I always try to have a comedic character in the mix, just to add a bit of reality, because sex and relationships are hilarious as well as sexy and wonderful.

Both your novels have brilliant and quite unusual premises. Where did you find your starting points for them? Are you a train spotter? Were you turning a Turkish holiday into a tax-deductible expense or are you secretly a member of an ancient demonic race yourself?
For Southern Spirits, I was thinking about journeys – sexual journeys in particular. I was also really interested in the notion of places being haunted or occupied, having a "spirit" or personality or entity watching the people within over a long period of time. Setting it on a train keeps the characters close and in a situation they couldn't walk away from easily.
The Pride came out of the argument about cat costumes, but I also think I may possibly be part cat – the part that likes to be stroked and fed by someone else and sleep most of the time. I've also been told I can scratch and bite with the best of em. I've been to Turkey several times on holiday, and the Turkish Restaurant owner Sedat is based on a friend of mine over there. So a little from column A and a little from Column B I think.

Where would we find you – sitting on the station in an anorak with a notebook or lounging in the luxury suite in the train?
Honestly? I'm a total anorak. I love pop culture, nerdy TV shows, geeky guys, science fiction, inane and obscure facts and comic books. I even wear spectacles. Writing sexy books is the only cool thing I do. Thank goodness for erotica!!

In the Lust Bites crowd, you would be voted most likely to…
….leave the ladies room with my skirt in my knickers. Hey, at least I'd get noticed!

...and now, it's open to the rabble to hurtle fruit, questions and champagne at our latest Lustie!

Coming attractions

Summer's been cancelled again for the UK Lusties, with torrential rains and thunder - if this goes on, I'll be back in my punt, like last year. So if you're lusting for some heat, the best we can offer you is HIM. Over there. On the right. ---->
In the sun. Without the umbrella. With his shirt off. The lucky, lucky bastard...

And THIS:

On Monday, Olivia Knight introduces Edie Bingham, the latest addition to Lust Bites's collection of International Bright Young Things. (We're all young, compared to The Doctor, and I've yet to find a better yardstick against which to measure people than The Doctor.)

On Wednesday, Kate Pearce takes a long hard look at horny men - the one with horns on their heads - as the intergalactic Vikings come back to pillage, plunder, and... well, is it still rape if you say "Ooh, yes, please?"

And on Friday, Edie Bingham jumps in at the deep end with lots of lovely sunshine and The Pride, her top Turkish delight.

Guilty Pleasures...

by Kate Pearce

There's no one reading this is there? It's summer so everyone is off doing interesting stuff, not reading blogs, right? Cool, because I decided I needed to unburden myself of some of my guilty pleasures. So here they are, in no particular order.


1. Cowboys-I know, you're all blown away by that revelation aren't you? I love them. Real cowboys don't talk much but watch them gentle a horse or ride at a lope and you just 'know' that they'd be good with a woman. (I have been told by several people that this is indeed true-yum)








2. Trashy magazines and reality shows
Okay I am addicted to People magazine and have been known to scan through 'Hello'occasionally but that doesn't mean I'd actually buy them, okay? I just read them whenever I happen to come across them at the dentist or, or anywhere. Even worse, I've watched every series of "America's Next Top Model" and have a strange affinity for "Lockup", which for those of you not yet watching it, is all about the insides of America's prisons. Fascinating stuff.

3. Lingerie.



I get a secret thrill that under the boring jeans, sweaters and fleeces lurks the sexiest underwear. I’m the currently unfashionable hour glass shape, with a waist and boobs so I like to treasure and appreciate my curves with the best I can afford. Most days it’s the French brand Chantelle because the fit is incredible and I’m a weird size, (blame the narrow back I’m all in proportion). It’s hard to find decent sexy bra’s in weird sizes and believe me, I’ve searched everywhere.

The other brand I love, but only buy for very special occasions, see picture above, is Agent Provocateur, a British brand made in France (hence the staggering cost). Go check out their website, particularly the video of Kylie Minogue on the bull-riding machine-very memorable. They make underwear which is classy, sexy and appreciated by me and my man. Okay, I admit, some of it I buy for him, but mostly it’s just for me. It’s good to feel sexy even beneath those boring jeans. I got the two sets in the picture for my birthday.

4. Cowboy boots


I have the curse of the cankles so most boot shopping expeditions leave me in tears and ringing up my mother to complain about the unfairness of genetics. So cowboy boots were something of a revelation to me. I even wrote a book with a hero who makes cowboy boots and enjoyed learning the process along the way. This is a picture of my favorite pair.


5. Taking a stroll in Home Depot

Those of you in the UK, not that anyone is reading this of course, might wonder what this means. I'm not sure if there is an equivalent home improvement/DIY store to Home Depot. You have to imagine B&Q or Home Base filled with swarthy real-life contractors with tool belts and big hands and power tools. So if ever I'm feeling a bit down about my rapidly aging body, I slap on some makeup and a low-cut T-shirt (and pants etc obviously I'm not that desperate) and take a stroll around Home Depot. Trust me, if you can't get a few appreciative glances in there amongst the real workers of the land, you are probably dead.

6.Dieux De Stade


My next guilty pleasure isn’t on my person and is actually several persons. It’s stashed away in my closet hidden from my kids and my lovely husband. It’s the 2008 Dieux De Stade. (God’s of the Stadium) calendar, kindly produced by the French rugby team to promote, um, rugby, I believe. I have to hide it because, by God, those are some of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and I don’t want my very buff hubby to get jealous. This is Mauro by the way, and yes he does have chained ankles. He has a brother too... but I'm keeping that picture all to myself.

7. Licking my book covers.



I'm sorry, but when they look as good as this new cover for SECURED MAIL (out in ebook form on July 30th from Ellora's Cave) How can you not lick them?



Wow, I feel so much better now sharing my guilty pleasures with the nothingness of the internet...

Of course-if anyone would care to share a guilty secret with me in the comments, I might pick my favorite and send them one of my books...

Magic and Desire: US release

By the time this post goes up the 3 novella collection Magic and Desire will officially be available to buy in the US. Hooray! All three authors – Portia da Costa, Olivia Knight and Janine Ashbless – are longtime contributors to Lust Bites. To celebrate this publication we’ve got little teaser extracts for you from all three stories. Different styles, different settings (one contemporary, one fantasy, one historical), different plays of light and dark … but all three themed around sex and the supernatural.

---

First, Ill Met By Moonlight by Portia da Costa: a romantic tale of a shape-shifting fairy who longs to participate in human passion. In this extract Lois is musing on the beach after a sticky night of fairy-induced erotic dreams…

Without thinking, she clasped her hand to her crotch, squeezing, trying to ease the ache. Pressing and massaging, she stared up at the strange dark seagull, watching it execute a graceful diving spiral, almost in response to her action. Then she looked down again, observing her own pale hand against the stonewashed cloth of her jeans and wishing it were another hand. One that was bigger and stronger and totally male.

Imagining him behind her, she moaned, longing for it to be his great body on which she leant while she took her pleasure, longing for his arms to enfold her and gentle her through the spasms.

‘Oh! Oh, God!’ Crying out, she came in a sudden rush, out of the blue, dimly hearing the gull shriek too, as if applauding her or even sharing her crisis.

Still clutching herself, she wrapped her other arm around her torso, hugging and rocking.

She didn’t hear the heavy trudging footsteps until it was too late and, when they did penetrate her haze, she looked straight up into the frowning face of her next-door neighbour.

‘Are you all right?’

---

Now an excerpt from The Dragon Lord by Olivia Knight: a fantasy epic of a princess, a desperate quest and some seriously dangerous dragons. In this extract the imprisoned Princess Nina turns the tables on her two guards…

Her hands were in their hair. Between them her hips rose and fell. Hugo wriggled closer to her, her thighs hot against her cock, her body radiating warmth like the summer sun. Vario groaned and Hugo opened his eyes to see his friend suckling hungrily. Their eyes met.

Whatever tide of desire was carrying them, they were both aware of what they were doing, and knew it. They watched each other’s mouth working softly at her nipples, which glistened and disappeared. Her hands pressed lightly on the backs of their heads and they leant forwards willingly. Their lips, hot from her skin, joined. Their cocks bounded in unison against her as their mouths opened and their kiss deepened. Each slid a thigh between hers, shifting to rub harder against her as their tongues delved. When they pulled back their breath was short, their eyes dark with confusion. Her soft smile said it was all fine and they bent to kissing her again, moving more freely, their hands clasping and unclasping, brushing over each other as they rolled and wound around her.

---

Lastly an excerpt from The House of Dust by Janine Ashbless: a dark tale of humiliation, vengeance and a descent into the Land of the Dead. In this extract Ishara and Nergal, who hate each other, have to have ritual sex in front of the whole city…

Nergal says nothing. A fire burns in his black eyes and I think that fire would consume me if it could. I reach out and draw the cloak from his shoulders to reveal the body beneath. He is naked of course, and my heart jumps in my breast to see that even so he is unimpeachably regal in form and proportion. His cock, heavy though not yet full erect, jerks a little. Turning, I rub myself against him, my buttocks to his crotch. I find it easier if I don’t have to meet his eyes and there is genuine pleasure in the undulation of my spine and the writhing of my hips. I like it that the people of Uruk can see me like this.

Lazily, Nergal reaches round and cups one breast. My nipple responds to his touch instantly. His pinch would be cruel in other circumstances but right now it only inflames me and I press my rounded rump into him with a cry. With his other hand Nergal pulls off my gown; I hear a sigh go up from the people. His fingers find the cleft between my legs and enter just far enough to sample my wetness. Then suddenly he spins me back round to face him. There’s a half-smile on his lips. Hands on my shoulders, he pushes me to my knees.

---

And now for the book giveaway! But we’re not offering a copy of Magic and Desire, because we really want you to buy that! So we’re giving away a copy of the paranormal short story anthology Love on the Dark Side, which contains a contribution from each of us (as well as a host of other Lusties past and present): The Black Knight by Olivia, Sun Seeking by Janine, and Watching the Detective by Portia. All you have to do is drop a comment (with identifying name of some sort) on this post and we’ll pick someone at random to win a copy: results in Coming Attractions this Sunday. You don't have to say anything clever -"Gosh, I would like free book" will do!

xxx
Janine Ashbless

Buy Magic and Desire at: Amazon US : Amazon UK

Feeling The Past

I have often wondered how my fellow writers come upon their ideas for their novels. Do they perchance just have a flash of inspiration, or is it far simpler than that - maybe a particular person, a book they read, or a TV show or movie they watch fires their imagination and helps them formulate a plot for a new book.

With me it is often a visit to some ancient historical site that sends my thoughts into overdrive and makes me decide that there must be a story to tell about the particular place that I find so fascinatingly compelling. Some people may think I’m a tad insane but I’ve always believed that there is far more to this world than what we see with our eyes and hear with our ears and that perhaps tales of metaphysical happening aren’t quite as far fetched as some believe them to be.

I have no idea why but for me some places have what I can only describe as an aura, a powerful sense of time displaced. You can almost believe that if you closed your eyes and wished very hard you could step back in time and see them as they once were, vibrant and full of people. One of the places that affected me very strongly was Pompeii, and it was a visit to this ancient monument that gave me the inspiration for my novel Barbarian Prize. For those who have never had the pleasure of visiting Pompeii it isn’t just a mass of ruins, surprisingly it looks more like a real city, with paved streets, shops, houses, bath houses and temples that have been dug out from the ash that covered it for century after century. Of course, due to the violence of that terrible day, almost two thousand years ago, some of the buildings are partially destroyed, others have missing upper stories and most no longer have a roof but you still get to see what life must have been like in AD79.

As soon as I laid eyes on Pompeii I knew it was the perfect setting for an erotic novel, and as I learnt more about the people that lived there the story began to form in my mind. Sex was a part of Roman life, they were sensual people. The wealthy lived a life of luxury, in huge villas with swimming pools, underfloor heating and running water. They had elaborate bath houses, where they would be cleansed and massaged by slaves, who would pander to their every whim. There were many slaves in the city of Pompeii, probably even more than there were free inhabitants. The wealthy male occupants used their female slaves to provide sexual pleasures but it was considered quite acceptable for them to slake their lust on their young male slaves as well, although once they reached full manhood the slaves would not be expected to provide such services for their masters any more. After all I enjoy writing m/m now and again, even if my editor doesn’t like it overmuch.

Women did have rights; rich women owned property and slaves of their own, but it was still a male dominated society. Nevertheless, some women purchased handsome young male slaves to service them in their beds at night, or visited the gladiator barracks regularly to avail themselves of the sexual services thy were also happy to provide. Some gladiators even attained the status of sex symbols much like attractive male pop stars do today.

The poor and the working class often visited brothels and there were at least 30 brothels in the city, maybe more, because some of it hasn’t even been excavated yet. These brothels were populated by whores from every corner of the Roman Empire and crude messages painted onto the walls of these buildings praised the erotic abilities of some of these women. I bet these ladies of the night never realised that their sexual abilities would be so widely known many centuries after they had perished. You can always tell where one of these houses is situated because there are crude pictures of phalluses carved at the corners of these streets and outside each brothel as well. Inside there are pictures painted on the walls in front of each tiny cubicle showing the specialties of each particular occupant.

They liked wall paintings, all the houses of the wealthier inhabitants have brightly coloured paintings decorating their walls, some of them highly erotic and there is always a small niche for a house god in the entrance hall – often this is Priapus, the god of fertility. A strange looking man with a cock so massive he has to support it in his hand.

How could I not fail to be stimulated to write about such a fascinating place, although

I’m not sure if I would have liked to live there with my 21^st century sensibilities. I would have enjoyed the pleasant climate, the central heating to warm my villa and the elaborate dinner parties they held. Reclining on couches they ate and drunk their fill, wandered off to throw up and then returned to fill their stomachs again. Bulimia it appears was quite acceptable, not a habit I’d like to attain, but then how would my stomach react to a feast of things like lark’s tongues and stuffed dormice? I can’t say the thought appeals to me.

Nudity wasn’t considered at all unacceptable although the sexes still bathed apart, and don’t wince here but bodily hair was more often than not removed and the only method they had was plucking. Give me waxing any day; it must have been odd and very painful to have a slave girl crouching between your thighs painstakingly removing all your pubic hair! Apart from that I probably wouldn’t have minded a visit to the bath house because all the handsome young men did their regular exercise in the nude! Then there were the public loos! That I couldn’t accustom myself to as they were truly communal and often served as a place to chat as well as relieving oneself. Imagine a long line of holes carved into blocks of stone, placed over streams of running water. While instead of loo paper they had a sponge on stick.

History fascinates me, just as the life people lived in the past stimulates me to write stories about them but oddly enough in many ways we haven’t changed that much over the centuries.

Normal service will resume shortly...

We apologise for the delay. We're still getting dressed and he is Not Helping.