Congratulations to Martina who has won the three books in the Food of Love competition. Many thanks to everyone who entered – it was great to chat about music with you all!Read More
My tenth guest, and my first to bring beautiful original artwork with her – I’m delighted to welcome Ruth Ramsden to the blog today!
I first started writing as soon as I could join words together and make something useful out of sentences. My mother was a prolific, though unpublished science fiction writer and it was just natural to follow her example, learning to type on her old Imperial manual typewriter, making grandiose plans for all sorts of exciting books, most of which never made it passed the 30 page mark before I got bored and moved on to something else. It wasn’t until my stoned and trippy teens that I realised my lifelong love of books and reading had gifted me the tools to really express myself and, believing I didn’t have the patience for a novel, I started writing terrible, terrible poetry. I still remember the title of my first effort: “The Anthropomorphosis of Dr. Livingstone”. I think that gives you a fair idea. Thank God I grew out of that.
Apart from a few short stories and some brilliantly excoriating letters to various local authorities, it wasn’t until I reached my thirties that I started writing seriously. This coincided with my interest in the UK fetish scene and also gelled nicely with my other ‘job’ as an illustrator. I’ve been a figure painter all my life and my guilt free epiphany as a pervert proved a motivating force in both writing and drawing. The first piece of erotica I wrote was for a Submissive of mine. It was a serialized tale of girl on girl domination that I knew she would enjoy, something to keep her thinking of me between our play sessions together. I enjoyed writing it so much that I began writing short stories and articles for magazines – Penthouse Forum; Palmprint; Xcite and I’m still popping up in various compilations of smut, which is very gratifying.
My first novel – Blue Murder At The Pink Parrot took about 6 years to write and wasn’t really conceived as a piece of erotica, although a lot of the characters and situations were based on my more bizarre experiences in the fetish scene. Which is why the book is humorous. It’s a kind of noir-ish murder mystery with a dominatrix, a lot of drugs and a fair amount of kink. It’s basically a thriller because crime has always been my favourite genre. The main character is just a souped up version of me because at the time I wasn’t clever enough to invent a whole new character to explore in the first person. I was also worried that using the fetish scene as the backbone for a ‘mainstream’ novel might prove a little too alternative. Shows what I know. Of course I had no idea that EL James was gestating her piece of fan fiction and that BDSM would suddenly become ‘fashionable’. I suspect it wont remain so for long. BDSM – actual BDSM, 50 shades away from Christian Grey – is still a little too niche for the general market.
I write in the first person because I’m basically a fantasist. When I’m writing erotica I have to get turned on. In some respects, writing for me is just a more elaborate way of day dreaming and I’ve cultivated many very dirty set pieces in the dead of the night. But like any fulfilling sexual experience, the foreplay is the thing that counts and I’ve always found reading about sexual encounters in the context of some other action much more exciting. Porn for its own sake can be rather cheesy – “Madam, I have CUM to fix your boiler, let me just get my TOOL…” The build up is the thing that you remember; an orgasm is an orgasm is an orgasm (especially in porn where it’s always the most amazing, explosive, incredible blah…blah). It’s the journey not the destination that leaves you wanting more. I suppose erotic context may have something to do with my interest in SM. It’s a very open, experimental sort of ethos, as long as all the interactions are consensual and it’s all about the turn on rather than the actual fuck. In fact the longer you can put it off, ramping up the tension, the better. Of course it just the same with writing about it. The more you can linger and finger the hornier it gets.
There is definitely an art to writing a good sex scene. It has its own rhythm and pace and you have to pitch the language just right. Many literary writers are catastrophically bad at this and the annual Bad Sex Award is a self renewing delight. They have my sympathy to a certain extent. It can be difficult finding words to describe the whole milieu don’t sound silly, OTT, repetitive or boring. The sensuality of sex as well as the physicality of it make a perfect written combination of action, reaction and contemplation. From a purely technical point of view, it’s quite a complex dance. But erotica isn’t technical. It’s something you feel when you write and there’s nothing I look forward to more than getting to the good bits. Never mind the plot – just get to the good stuff!
I suppose there might still be a notion that the Brits are more uptight about sex than the rest of the world. That’s not true. We just like complaining about things more. Politics, food, the weather, shopping, anything. But when it comes to sex, we are just as filthy as everyone else. After all (my chest swells with pride), we are the nation that gave the world ‘Dogging’, though I’ve yet to see a best seller about voyeuristic nocturnal encounters at a trucker’s rest stop. But apart from peculiarities like this, I don’t think there’s much difference in writing erotic fiction country to country when it comes right down to bump and grind. The language might occasionally differ but if you’ve written for magazines, you can bet your ‘ass’ that American English will be pretty standard anyway. The world I write about is definitely non standard, though. Especially when you bear in mind that my first novel was inspired by an encounter with a man who offered me £20,000 if he could come and live under my stairs as a pet. The first (and probably only occasion) when I could truthfully say twenty grand wouldn’t cover it.
The more I write, the more I realise I genuinely enjoy writing about sex, its consequences, its motivation, the twists and turns of people’s relationships. Although I’m still writing mysteries, I so look forward to the naughty bits that those books are getting ruder and ruder and now I’ve branched out into full on erotica as well. There are so many different sub-genres of erotic fiction that the main impulse, for me anyway, is to get away from the norm. It quite difficult when your dealing with a subject that’s based, bare bones, on a formula but all popular fiction is formulaic to some extent. The artistry lies in dodging the obvious bullet. I wont pretend I’ve mastered it but I’m trying. Like any sensualist, all I really want to do is turn you on…
Fantastic, funny and insightful stuff – am I the only one who has a secret desire to read The Anthropomorphism of Dr Livingstone? I’m sure I’m not. Thank you, Ruth!
I was excited earlier this week to see Kinky for sale in Italian translation – the title changed to Club Kinky, with a pretty new cover:
From my cursory inspection of other erotic romances on the Amazon.it shelves (by Charlotte Stein and Madelynne Ellis, among others) I worked out that ‘piacere’ means pleasure! And I certainly hope my Italian readers get a lot of it.
On that subject, there are more free pleasures to be had at Amazon UK. Confessions of a Kinky Wife is off the free list now (still holding up well in the paid Kindle store) but you can get your hands on two free anthologies featuring stories of mine.
Come Play With Me includes my story You Can Have Me, in which a woman goes out in a very provocative T-shirt.
Sex And The Stranger contains one of my favourite cheeky little pieces, Shelf Pleasure – supermarket sex!
My other Mischief titles have been picking up great sales and reviews lately too, which is fantastic news. Not so long ago I wondered if I’d ever get Amazon reviews that weren’t by people I ‘knew’…well, that time seems to have come. Many, many thanks to all the lovely readers who take the time to share their thoughts – it’s very much appreciated.Read More
Victoria Blisse has brought some friends over today – they’re called Rob and Lou, and I think we’re all going to get along very well together. If you’ve never met them – here’s Victoria to give you a bit of background.
Introduction to Rob and Lou.
Robert Nimble is thirty-five years old, he’s tech support for a large Internet host, and loves to play computer games to relax. He’s married to Louise Nimble, who’s a child minder, and a year younger than her husband. She bakes to unwind. Taking the old adage that stressed is desserts spelt backwards to heart.
Robert and Louise are more often known by the shortenings of their names—Rob and Lou. They’ve been married for ten years and have two children: Connor, who is six, and Elizabeth, who’s four. They live in a terraced house in a suburban outskirt of Manchester. As a family, they enjoy their yearly week-long holiday to Scarborough, and visits to the cinema to watch films that the kids and adults giggle at in equal measure. In the school holidays, they’ll often be found in museums and parks, enjoying the culture and the beauty of Britain.
They’re a smiley family, although Rob can get grumpy when his tech genius isn’t taken seriously enough, and Lou may have the patience of a saint with children, but more than two hours with her in-laws has her pulling out her hair. The children are mostly well-behaved, with an inclination to the curious, and the mischief that goes hand in hand with that. If they do run into the back of your legs, or scare you with their latest pet insect, they will apologise politely and you’re likely to instantly forgive them.
This book is not about the day-to-day life of this family, but those weekends and rare occasions that Lou and Rob get some time to themselves to indulge their sensual natures. Rob enjoys seeing his darling wife in very little clothing, and likes to indulge in intricate and imaginative role plays. Lou enjoys a bit of spanking, some domination, and bondage. She wouldn’t say she was into BDSM, per se; she just likes to dip a toe in the shallow end of that particularly pervy pond. They both like to flirt with erotic danger, playing about in public places in hopes of possibly being caught.
Rob and Lou’s Wild Weekends are just that, so hold on and enjoy the ride.
Here’s an excerpt for you – careful, it’s a hot one!
It was only a small parcel in a typical brown padded envelope. It wasn’t expected, which is why I spent so long looking it over. The return address didn’t ring a bell, and I really couldn’t imagine what it could be so, finally, I opened it. I grinned to myself as I did. My husband Rob would have laughed at me, spending so long looking at the wrapping and wondering. He doesn’t get why I like to eke out the anticipation in moments like this.
Inside was a square of white with a lacy frill all around it. When I opened it up, I found ties –it was a pinny. Inside the parcel was a sealed envelope. I opened it to find a card covered in small red love hearts.
Wear this tonight and only this xxx
PS Kids are going to my mum’s for tea tonight, so don’t worry.
I recognised my husband’s handwriting immediately and chuckled when I remembered a conversation we’d held in a restaurant once about pinnies and their attractiveness. Well, Rob had been staring at this red-headed waitress (he loves auburn hair) with cute curves and pouty lips, and I had to pull him up on it.
“No, Lou, No.” He shook his head. “I am helplessly addicted to pinnies. I can’t help it.”
“Pinnies?” I lifted one brow and pinched his thigh under the table. “You’re turned on by tiny little aprons?”
“Yes.” He nodded solemnly. “It’s a terrible affliction.”
“What’s your favourite kind?”
“White ones with lacy bits,” he replied, licking his lips salaciously.
That night, I whispered dirty sweet nothings in his ear while we fucked in the comfort of our hotel room bed. I told a story where I was a simple girl, waiting on tables in a quaint old tea shop, wearing a little lacy pinny. I giggled. He chuckled, but as my tale got hotter, the noises we made became strangled and lust-filled.
“You watch me until the end of my shift,” I whispered, hunched over him, my soft thighs stretched around his waist as his hard erection filled me. I moved gently up and down and continued the tale. “Then follow me outside into the alley. Before I can cry out, you clamp your hand over my mouth and push me roughly against the wall. I struggle helplessly but you hold me down and whisper about knowing I want it. How I’d teased you and how I would get what I’d been asking for.”
I still remember how he gripped my hips tightly when I rode him. I continued my story through groans of pleasure.
“You spin me around, press me into the harsh brick of the wall, and pull up my skirt. Grabbing hold of my prim pinny, you fuck me. I’m soaking wet, so you slide right in. You fuck me there in an alley, the girl you just met, the girl you hardly know.”
My words turned into unintelligible mumblings at the point where ecstasy took over. And ever since our holiday, with the visit to that restaurant and the evening’s tale of indecency in an apron, we’ve found a mutual fondness for the uniform of waiting staff and hotel workers alike. So, if Rob wanted me naked in nothing but a pinny for Valentine’s, that’s what he could have.
Pinny-perving! I love it. Here are the details of how to get hold of this fun-filled story:
Blurb: Hold on tight, it’s going to get wild! Rob and Lou could pass you in the streets and you’d likely not notice them. They’re in their thirties, have a family and jobs to hold down and they do it with smiles on their faces. But occasionally they get a little time off and that’s when things get seriously sexy.
Light-hearted and fun, this mini-anthology features episodes from this couple’s wild weekends. Making the most of the mud, finding the erotic nature of an apron and even having a sexy visit to a fish and chip shop. Rob and Lou make the mundane much more pleasurable so join them on their kinky ride.
Includes a bonus short story Damsel in Distress and excerpts from other ebooks by the award winning queen of rosy, raunchy and rubenesque erotic romance, Victoria Blisse.
Buy links and more info: http://victoriablisse.co.uk/books/rob-lous-wild-weekends
Individual Buy links:
I’m running a giveaway, and you can win not one but three books – all three of my Food of Love series, the last of which, Close Harmony, came out last week. After all, there’s no point winning the last book in a trilogy if you haven’t read the others, is there?
To be in with a chance of winning, all you have to do is comment below, mentioning a favourite piece of music. I’ll keep this open until next Sunday, 19th May. Best of luck!
Here are the blurbs for each book, just in case you’re not sure whether to enter.
1. Highly Strung
If music be the food of love, no wonder orchestral life is so passionate.
The new violinist with the Westminster Symphony Orchestra knows she shouldn’t have a crush on its glamorous leader, Milan Kaspar, but Lydia just can’t help wanting a piece of the arrogant Czech virtuoso.
Capturing his attention by refusing to play along with his plans for the orchestra, she soon finds herself drawn into his bed – a bed he shares with lovers of both sexes.
But Lydia wants more than wild and inventive sex – she wants to get behind Milan’s sophisticated veneer, to find the man inside the performer.
She seems doomed to failure, until a trip to his home country changes everything…
Reader Advisory: This book contains ménage relationships, bisexual characters and exhibitionism/voyeurism, plus some scenes of angst.
2. Musical Beds
Can hope come from heartbreak? Music and passion rule the lives of Milan and Lydia, building bridges between them even when all seems lost.
After Lydia leaves a grieving Milan behind in Prague, their tempestuous relationship seems to be over. But chance throws them back together again when Milan is given the career opportunity of a lifetime.
Lydia is thrown off course by his self-destructive behaviour and, as much as she loves him, she can’t be sure that she will ever be able to live with him. Then the issue is further confused by the arrival of a handsome and intriguing conductor from Germany…Meanwhile, Lydia’s friend Vanessa is finding herself strongly drawn to her percussionist colleague—a man young enough to be her son.
Affairs of the heart run riot through the Westminster Symphony Orchestra. Will they ruin an important television broadcast, or will the musicians find love and peace at last?
3. Close Harmony
How do you choose between two perfect men? It’s like choosing your favourite music—certain pieces suit certain moods. Which mood is Lydia feeling the most?
The autumn season of the Westminster Symphony Orchestra finds Lydia unable to choose between passionate Milan and dominant Karl-Heinz—so she decides to give them both a chance. She hops from one bed to the other, trying to weigh up her options. Milan has a hold on her heart, but has never been reliable. Karl-Heinz is a good man, but what is the secret behind his strange repression? Old rivalries and new jealousies are kindled while Lydia works hard at having the time of her sex life.
No trio has ever practised quite as hard as this…But there is trouble in paradise for Ben and Vanessa, too, as a face from Vanessa’s past makes an unwelcome appearance and all seems impossible to resolve.
Amid turbulent emotions and orchestra rehearsals, the musicians work hard to negotiate a path to happiness. Will music prove to be the food of love, or a poison, infecting the future?
Reader Advisory: This book contains BDSM, MMF ménage and MM, as well as references to rape and sexual assault.
Come and join in – and good luck!Read More