Lindsay Townsend: 'Flavia's Secret', a new excerpt.

Here's a new excerpt of my historical romance, 'Flavia's Secret,' set in Roman Britain. In this excerpt, Flavia, a Celtic slave, is going shopping in Aquae Sulis (Roman Bath) with her new master Marcus.

Excerpt:

On their way through Aquae Sulis, Flavia kept watching for another glimpse of Agrippina’s mysterious spice seller, but did not see the caped young woman again. Soon the wonders of the city itself were clamoring for her attention—she had rarely wandered in these fashionable parts, close to the great bath itself. Certainly not in the company of a man with whom she almost had to run to keep up: Marcus’ smooth, flowing stride covered a great deal of ground. Flavia trailed in his wake as he wove effortlessly through the close-packed buildings and the bobbing mass of tourists, grizzled soldiers and trinket sellers. She was breathless and over-awed when they came to the tailor’s shop, conscious of her shabby clothing and flyaway hair.

One of a block of three, the tailor’s was a smart establishment, built within sight of a three storey hotel and the great new barrel vaulted roof of the main baths. Set between a Gaulish wine shop on one side and a potter’s selling fine tableware on the other, it was roofed with tiles rather than the more common thatch, and was in two storeys with smooth plastered walls and large wooden shutters, now fully open.

Crossing in Marcus’ shadow to its open door and supercilious-looking owner, Flavia felt even more out of place. Around her, she could smell a heady swirl of perfumes as people came and went from the baths and hear the sound of sawing and the masons shouting to each other within the precincts of the shrine itself. There was always building going on in Aquae Sulis, ancient place of healing and now a Roman spa.

Telling herself that she would one day walk these cobbled streets as a free Celt, Flavia tilted up her chin, determined to show no nerves.

‘Flavia.’ Marcus had kept glancing round to check that she was with him and now he turned back to her, blocking the view of the bowing tailor. ‘Before we are overwhelmed by offers, we should have a plan of campaign.’

He grinned, making the ragged scar close to his lower lip disappear, making light, too, of his own words and laughing at himself.

An attractive trait, Flavia thought.

‘Do you?’ he asked softly.

She had done it again, missed a question. Perhaps it was his largeness, his maleness. She stared at the hand now clasping hers, her own palm dwarfed in his. ‘I don't know,’ she murmured, for something to say. A gust of wind cut through her patched dress, dragging several strands of Marcus’ glossy dark-brown hair across his forehead. Was it as tough and unyielding as it looked?

‘You are shivering, we must go in. But if no favorites, then a color you particularly dislike—surely you have that?’

‘Yes, imperial purple,’ Flavia said promptly, returning his look with a steadiness she did not quite feel.

He laughed aloud. ‘A pert reply! Very well, little Celt, your scruples will be respected. Come.’ He drew her into the shop with him.

To see more, please go here:

http://www.lindsaytownsend.net/2008/04/flavias-secret.html

and here:

http://www.bookstrand.com/flavias-secret

Best wishes, Lindsay Townsend

Lindsay Townsend, historical romance. http://www.lindsaytownsend.net

or follow me at Twitter: @lindsayromantic

Eroticon 2013 Write Up by Lucy Felthouse

Eroticon is a conference for erotic writers and sex bloggers, organised by the incredibly capable Ruby Kiddell. This year it took place in London. There's more information here.

So, without further ado...

Wow… how to write this post without making it longer than the average short story?! I guess I’ll keep it short and to the point, and of course, the photos will speak a thousand words… or something. I am still exhausted from a fabulous weekend, and therefore my brain is not firing on all cylinders. Probably not any, actually. So, here goes:

Friday night:

Not part of the conference, but a fabulous night out with K D Grace, Victoria Blisse, Lily Harlem,Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Kay Jaybee and myself. K D Grace organised a trip to the Volupte Lounge in the City of London. We had a delicious dinner in Belushi’s first of all, then headed off for some burlesque. And it was brilliant. I’m afraid the names of the performers escape me (though I suspect K D Grace will have them all listed in her write-up), with one exception. Dave the Bear. Yes, Dave. A man, who performed some boylesque. For me, he was the highlight. He was very funny, sexy and totally bonkers. Our table laughed, cheered, whistled and whooped throughout, and also very much enjoyed Stefan, a rather attractive young man who was dragged onto the stage and made into the partner of a Russian ballerina – who happened to be a man. For the sake of brevity, I’ll just say this was a night full of friendship, giggles and fun. And Kay Jaybee with her first shot – a Butterball, which was delicious.

Saturday:

So – conference time. A very tired bunch of smut writers made their way from their hotel to the conference, popping into Waterloo station for some food and drinks first. I attended the opening speech, Brook’s speech on sexual health and contraception (which I found fascinating, and am hoping to have one of the members on my blog at some point), then Kristina Lloyd’s creative writing workshop. I’d never met Kristina before, so like the fangirl I am, I asked her to sign one of her books for me, which she very graciously did after the workshop. During, though, there was no time for autographs – it was a packed session which produced a hilarious outcome. We had spreadsheets with differently coloured blocks, and we had to write various things in the boxes. For example:

Name four things that sparkle:

• Edward Cullen
• Stars
• Ice
• Snow

It was early in the morning (especially for me, I’m not at all a morning person), which is my only excuse for the first answer. But it did make me giggle. Our homework is to write something containing some of the words and elements we came up with. Hopefully I’ll be able to get to that soon.

Then came refreshments, and I ended up not going to any of the sessions because I was too busy chatting with people, both people I already knew, and those I was lucky enough to meet. Next came Remittance Girl’s workshop, which was more theoretical than Kristina’s, but incredibly thought provoking, and left me with many thoughts whizzing around my head.

Afterwards came lunch, and I accidentally got chatting and ended up  missing the next session, because I didn’t want to walk in late – oops! But some fantastic conversations were had – not least one with Mario Cacciottolo, who runs the Someone Once Told Me website, which is a fabulous idea – check it out to see what it’s all about. It turned out we both went to the University at Derby (though not at the same time) and actually had one of the same lecturers – what a small world!

Soon, many people were flagging, including myself, so me, Victoria Blisse, Lexie Bay, Lily Harlem and Tabitha Rayne headed over to see the Sh! Girlz. Tabitha had never met them before, so it was a very exciting experience for her, and of course I’m always delighted to see the ladies, especially since Renee, Jo and Shelly were there. So it was hugs all round, some signing of books, some giggles, some purchasing, then we reluctantly went on our way – via a pub – to go and get something to eat. I led the girls from London Bridge Tube station to Gourmet Burger Kitchen on Clink Street without consulting a map, impressing them all  After feeding our faces, we headed back to the hotel and nattered until almost one in the morning. Which leads me to…

Sunday:

Even more tired, we headed –  bags and all, as most of us went home straight after the conference – back to the venue. Victoria and I were on the first panel, about anthologies, so we had to liven up. Thankfully we managed it (Victoria is fine with mornings, luckily, so she chivvied me along!) and had a great panel with Rachel Kramer Bussel and Maxim Jakubowski with lots of varied and fun questions, which I hope we answered successfully.

Again, lots of networking and chatting was done, and so I didn’t attend any more sessions until the afternoon, which was K D Grace’s creative writing workshop. She’s my friend, so I admit I am biased, but it was excellent, interesting and very informative. I got a little bit of my novella written, so I came away with something to work on, too.

Sadly, it was then time to go. A huge round of goodbyes were made at the venue, then some of us headed to Waterloo station, where another round of goodbyes were made. I then headed onto the Northern Line to St. Pancras, and eventually, home. I was so knackered it was a struggle not to fall asleep on the train, but I managed it. Just.

Overall:

The tiredness was absolutely worth it. Writing is such a solitary business that it’s absolutely fantastic to be able to  meet up with like minded people and chat, share ideas, and just generally have fun. I don’t regret missing some of the sessions, purely because the time I spent meeting new people and being with ones I already knew was invaluable. Sadly, I didn’t get to meet everyone I wanted to, but I checked a few off the list, which I’m very pleased about. And there’s always next year to meet the rest. I can’t wait! Well done, Ruby Kiddell – you pulled it off again, and it was even better than last year. Roll on Smut by the Sea!

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9 

New Release: Smut Alfresco, edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Hi all!

This is just a flying visit, I'm afraid as I'm totally up against it with a deadline, but I just wanted to let you know that Smut Alfresco just released. Here are the details:

Sex in the great outdoors is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the dramatic gritstone escarpments of Derbyshire’s Peak District, to a quiet caravan site in deepest Wales, Smut Alfresco has it all. Whatever your interpretation of frisky outdoor fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you.

Sexy woodsmen, daring couples, rock stars, cougars, map enthusiasts, mattresses, ex-lovers, tour guides, hunky sheriffs and nature reserve rangers all appear in this hot collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Includes stories from: Violet Fields, Demelza Hart, Victoria Blisse, Jacqueline Brocker, Wendi Zwaduk, K T Red, Tilly Hunter, Bel Anderson, Lucy Felthouse, Kay Jaybee, Tenille Brown, Cass Peterson, Jenny Lyn and Nicole Gestalt.

And here's a snippet from my story:


Violet slammed down the lid of her laptop with far more force than was necessary. She flinched, thinking perhaps she might have cracked the screen or broken one of the machine’s internal components. Then she shrugged, realising she didn’t care if she had. It was her work’s computer, after all, not hers. If it was fucked, they’d have to replace it. And it would serve them right, too. Bastards.

The reason she was pissed off was the fact she was in work at all. It was Saturday, and the previous afternoon her useless boss had dumped a project on her, stating it had to be finished by Monday, no matter how long it took. He’d then added that he was going away for the weekend, meaning it was all down to her. The selfish, disorganised wanker. It wouldn’t be so bad, but she hadn’t had a pay rise for two years, and when she went above and beyond for her job, she didn’t get so much as a thank you, let alone be paid any overtime. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, either.

Well, fuck them. She wasn’t going to be a doormat—or her boss’ scapegoat—any more. Let them try and sack her—she wasn’t doing anything remotely wrong, and they couldn’t make her working life any more hellish than it already was.

She stood up sharply, sending her swivel chair careening backwards across the room until it hit the wall. She shrugged again, she still didn’t care. Let it chip the fucking paintwork, or a bust a hole in the plasterboard. No one else was there, so nobody could prove or disprove that it had been an accident.

Pausing to switch the lights off—she was pissed off at her employers, not the environment—she left the offices, setting the alarm before closing the door behind her. Stuffing her access swipe card into her handbag, she heaved a sigh of relief. There would probably be hell to pay for her stunt on Monday, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she was just desperate to get out. Into the countryside, or, given she was in central London, to a green space, at the very least.

From where she worked, Green Park was probably the closest, but she figured Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens were bigger, so she’d be more likely to find a secluded spot where she could just be by herself. The last thing she needed now was to have to deal with other people.

Want more? Grab your copy here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-alfresco/

*****
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Alan Calder: 'The Glorious Twelfth'

The Glorious Twelfth is my second novel, set mainly in my native Caithness with forays into France, Italy, Egypt and Poland. The genre is mystery/suspense with a thread of romance running through the story.

Genesis of the Glorious Twelfth

In The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown speculates that the Holy Grail lies buried in the filled in crypt of Rosslyn Chapel near Edinburgh. This mysterious church was built by the Sinclairs in the first half of the fifteenth century, by which time the clan was well established in Caithness where it still holds the Earldom. Caithness, then remote and inaccessible, would have provided a much better hiding place for the Grail than Rosslyn, especially after the Sinclairs began to build a series of heavily fortified castles round the Caithness coast. In Caithness, the Sinclairs also built several mausoleums where many generations of their upper echelons were laid to rest. One of these, an enchanting building with an ogive shaped roof, is built over the remains of an ancient chapel to St Martin and surrounded by a graveyard which once contained a class II Pictish stone, conferring great antiquity on the site.                                             

The Glorious Twelfth- Blurb

The Glorious Twelfth opens as archaeologist Ben Harris finds a Celtic stone and evidence of a medieval shipwreck on the Noster estate of Sir Ranald Sinclair. Careless talk by Ben at a conference in Paris sparks off a robbery at  Sir Ranald’s mausoleum, uncovering a treasure that has been hidden for centuries. The robbery follows the opening day of the grouse season, hence the title of the book. The chief villain, grail fanatic Russian Boris Zadarnov, also abducts Sir Ranald’s wayward daughter, Fran, who is already in love with Ben. American oilman Al Regan, a neighbour of Sir Ranald, leads a rescue party to Paris where Fran is freed and most of the treasure recovered, but the thieves escape with a ruby encrusted chalice.

     For a series of misdemeanours, including failing to spot that the Celtic stone was a fake, Ben is sacked from his university job. He finds consolation in the arms of Fran and moves north to continue treasure hunting, making the discovery of his life near one of the ancient Sinclair castles. Has he found the greatest archaeological prize in Christendom, the Holy Grail? Will he be able to protect it from the malevolent attention of Alexei, younger brother of the deceased Boris?

 The Glorious Twelfth- Opening Excerpt

Ben Harris was examining pottery fragments in the dig tent, already warming up under an August morning sun, when he heard the shout. It was from Angela in the trench on top of the hillock which the locals had always called, The Hill of Peace.

     “Ben, I’ve got something!”

It wasn’t normal to call the field archaeologist for routine finds such as pieces of pottery, so he picked up his trowel and brush and rushed up the path to the dig. In his haste he forgot to put on the wide brimmed kudu skin hat, which normally restrained his longish mop of fair hair and gave him protection from the sun. He was excited by the call, not least because this was his first dig as the boss and the site had certainly looked of interest on the geophysics survey, carried out at Easter by a colleague.

      Angela was on her knees in the metre deep trench, bounded by the foundations of a simple rectangular building, gradually revealed over the previous two weeks. She was carefully prising the compressed soil from a flat stone surface, in the middle of the floor of the building.

     “It’s incised; look there’s a curved line. I don’t think it’s a plough mark.”

     “Not a metre down. I’ll start recording and fetch the laptop just in case.” If it was an important find, he wanted to record the moment as it happened and not have to stage a reconstruction.

     “There’s more, it’s a fish, I’ve got the tail,” she shouted, as he returned with the laptop.

     “Wow, we have got something here.” Looking over her shoulder, Ben could see the fan of the salmon’s tail materialise from the dust. It was about half life-size and pleased him infinitely more than any of the real wild ones he’d caught with rod and line. “Let me check the geophysics.” His mind was racing at the prospect of an undiscovered Pictish stone. 

     “Is it that big anomaly we saw?” Angela asked.

     “Spot on. That’s it.” He perched the laptop on the edge of the trench, allowing her to see the dark shadow on the trace.

     “So, there’s a lot more of it to uncover.”

     As they bent down over the stone again, a shadow covered Ben. He looked up to see the tall slender figure of Fran, daughter of Sir Ranald Sinclair, the proprietor and dig sponsor, on the other side of the trench, blocking out the sun.  She was standing with her arms folded below her breasts, tapping a sandal-covered foot on the edge of the trench, causing a mini-collapse of soil.

     From Ben’s low position in the trench, his first sight was the silhouette of her long legs showing through the thin fabric of her dress. Scanning up further, the sun was neatly eclipsed by her head and sparkled through the outer frizz of her lustrous deep copper coloured hair. It gave her a goddess-like halo, accentuated by the refraction of light through the prisms of her long dangling ear-rings. Her challenging presence made him think of Boudicca, the early Iceni  Queen who took on the Romans.

      Ben narrowed his focus on her face. He got a fleeting impression of self-satisfaction as her eyes left the stone and met his briefly, with the faintest of smiles. She turned sharply on her heel and disappeared into the light without uttering a word. Her departure left him looking into the sun, temporarily blinded, but with the optical memory of her shape still imprinted behind his eyes. Ben shook his head to restore his sight and push her image to the back of his mind. The other students and volunteers on the dig began to assemble round the periphery of the trench, attracted by the allure of the square foot or so of exposed stone.

     “What was that all about?” asked Angela.

     “She seems very interested in the stone,” said Ben.

     “I think she fancies the archaeologist,” said Angela with a hint of menace.

      Ben did not rise to Angela’s bait. He suspected a personal sub-text on her part. She was being very nice to him and always seemed to be hovering within easy reach.

     “I could lift it out for you with the JCB,” said Jay Fuller, an American based on the main platform of the Caithness Shelf oilfield, a few miles offshore. Jay volunteered on his rest days,  a break from the tedium of the production schedule. The other students sniggered at his unprofessional enthusiasm.

     “All in good time, Jay; but you’re right; we will need the JCB for this one.”  Ben gave Fuller a break. He didn’t want to exploit his minor gaffe. He also realised that he would have to rethink the digging plan in the light of the discovery.

     “Is it tea time?” asked the beaming Angela.

     “Okay, let’s take an early tea break and think about what we need to do next.”

     Over the tea break they discussed a new plan to focus on trench three. Ben  would join Angela on the stone and the others would work on fully digging out the rest of the trench. He also called Sir Ranald Sinclair, owner of the Noster Estate to tell him about the find and it was agreed that the proprietor would visit the dig at five p.m.

Links

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=531&category_id=69&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1&vmcchk=1&Itemid=1

 www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00BG04SS8

www.amazon.com/dp/B00BG04SS8

 Best wishes to all

Alan Calder

Guest blog: Susan Mac Nicol - 'Together in Starlight'

Bennett Saville is sexy. At the peak of his career, the English star of stage and screen is everything a woman might desire, as fiancée Cassandra Wallace well knows. Together they’ve seen the world, from L.A. to Shangri La, yet shadows persist even in the spotlight. At home they face lust, greed, and ghosts from their pasts—and that’s off stage. There is also “The Val”. The aged London theatre holds a mystery four centuries old, cast in starlight and waiting to be revealed. Intensely personal, impossibly passionate, the play must go on…and Cassie and Bennett must face it together.

Buy link www.boroughspublishinggroup.com

My website http://www.susanmacnicol.com/blog//blog/

My 2nd Blog http://susanmacnicol.tumblr.com/

Excerpt (Chapter One):

Bennett Saville stood at the window of his hotel room looking out over the Hengduan Mountains surrounding the mystical town of Shangri La in Tibet. He’d been there nearly six weeks now filming his new movie, and had yet to tire of the view of the valley and the towering mountains that seemed to surround the hotel like a massive rock shield. The October sun shone down on the valley and the green fields surrounding the hotel.

Across the river in the distance he could see the small figures of farmers as they went about their business. Small white forms of sheep were speckled like popcorn about the grassy hills. He sighed, stretching his lanky frame, wincing as his muscles protested against the activity.

The day’s filming had taken its toll on him, not least of which was his backside from sitting on a mule most of the day. The mule had not particularly taken to him. He supposed wryly that when two immoveable and stubborn objects met there was bound to be some friction. He turned as someone swore behind him, and saw his fiancée, Cassie Wallace, struggling under the weight of her now packed suitcase as she manoeuvred it off the bed. She strained to pull the suitcase over to the door where it would wait to be taken down by the hotel porters in the morning.

He observed her with raised eyebrows. Despite his suggestion that she get a suitcase with wheels, she’d insisted on taking her tried and trusted old green one -the one with no wheels and which in itself was a fair weight even without the mountain of clothes inside it.

Cassie muttered as she gave the case one final kick in annoyance and looked up at him. Her eyes challenged him to say something, anything. He turned away with a hidden smile.

She flopped down onto the bed and groaned. “I can’t believe we have to leave tomorrow.”

She opened her arms and spread them out behind her, her t –shirt straining at the move and showing the generous curves beneath. Seeing Bennett’s predatory look, she hastily sat up again lest he get any ideas about pouncing on her. They were due downstairs for their last lunch together with the rest of the cast and crew in about five minutes.

“I thought you were looking forward to getting home?” Bennett said. “You’ve been itching to get back to business. That phone of yours hasn’t stopped since we left London.”

 He sat down on the bed beside her, his green eyes observing her, admiring her tanned skin from the sunshine of the Tibetan summer and the small freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose. Her strawberry blonde hair, worn long but now even longer past her shoulders, had streaks of gold where the sun had bleached it.

All in all, he thought the six weeks holiday she’d had whilst he was filming had done her good. After the events of the last twenty one month’s together, it was good to see her looking so perky, healthy and downright sexy.

She nodded. “I know. I am. It’s just that it’s so peaceful here. I know you’ve been filming but I’ve never seen you look so relaxed either. This trip has been good for both of us.”

He regarded at her ruefully. “What with all the past events, you and your car accident, Eric’s death, Mum’s psychotic episode and you landing up in hospital again and that bloody Laura woman stalking me, I’m surprised we’re not both basket cases.”

She sighed. “I can’t believe our Tibet trip is nearly over. I know when you get back you’ll be busy filming in the London studios- Waverly is it?”

Bennett nodded. “It’s a huge and very sophisticated studio in Chalk Farm. It’ll be great seeing how the rest of the film comes together there.”

“Perhaps, Bennett, when we get home, I might be able to convince you not to fall asleep with such regularity at your desk.” Cassie said drily.

 He grinned. Whilst he’d been in Tibet, many were the nights he’d fallen asleep in front of his laptop, his script open, various research websites being bookmarked and copious notes in his untidy, almost illegible scrawl in the margins of his script. He knew it drove Cassie to distraction.

“You know me, Cass. I’m a little obsessive.”

Cassie stared at him in amusement. “A little? Bennett, you disappear in the middle of the night to God knows where, for hours on end, stalking about talking to yourself and looking like a crazy person.”

He smiled, knowing this to be true.

Cassie continued her diatribe.  “You wander up into the mountains, down by the river and I never quite know where I’m going to find you or when you’ll be back. It can be quite dangerous out there.”

He shrugged. “When the muse is on me, Cass, I can’t help it. I need to get things perfect or it doesn’t work for me.”

“That’s all well and good, sweetheart, but if you hadn’t noticed, ignoring me doesn’t make me go away. And you can be such an autocrat. It’s your way or no way.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “An autocrat? Cassie, that’s a bit cruel.”

Bennett grinned at the exasperated face of his fiancée.  “I guess we should be getting downstairs for lunch. I was planning on an afternoon siesta with you but judging from the sound your stomach is making, I imagine you’re hungry again. I can’t make love to a starving woman. It’s too distracting.”

He stood up and reached out a hand to her. She took it as she stood up and they walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Downstairs in the outside courtyard the lunch buffet was in full swing. The full cast and crew of Lost Horizon were helping themselves to a spread of both Chinese and Tibetan local fare including roasted yak which Cassie hadn’t wanted to try. Bennett found it delicious. But despite that, Cassie refused to taste it. He acknowledged that neither of them had developed the taste for the local butter tea.

Mingmei Cheng, Bennett’s co- star and love interest in the film, smiled when she saw them, wandering over to join them. She was stunningly beautiful, a slim exotic Mandarin woman with long black hair and small hands that waved like butterflies when she talked.   Bennett was well aware that the one part about the making of the film Cassie couldn’t get used to were the on-camera love scenes and intimate moments between him and Mingmei.

Although John managed them tastefully and there was only what was needed on show,

nothing gratuitous, he knew she still couldn’t bear to watch Bennett and Mingmei together in that way.

“Most of the time you’re half naked.” she’d grumbled when they’d talked about it recently.

He’d smiled at her discomfort. “Cassie, mostly I have my shirt off. My pants and everything else are still on for most of the scenes. And when they’re not, well, there’s not really any contact. Honest.”

She’d scowled. “Well, I still don’t like watching it. Mingmei is so beautiful and tiny and it just looks wrong when she has her hands all over your bare chest. Sometimes I want to scratch her porcelain face. That makes me a really bad person, Bennett.”

It hadn’t helped that he’d chuckled loudly at her comments.  “You jealous harpy. You know I’m acting. I promise.”

 Seeing them now, Mingmei smiled at them sweetly.  “Bennett, Cassie,” she said softly in her lilting dialect. “I’m glad you decided to join us. I thought perhaps you might be having a siesta.” She smiled slyly.

Bennett smiled, watching Cassie’s face flush instantly. He did tend to have a proclivity towards afternoon ‘siestas’ with her when he could get them and it appeared the whole crew knew about them

“No, we were hungry and looking forward to lunch. I shall miss all of this when we get home.”  Cassie waved a hand around at the tables laden with food.

Bennett looked at her with raised eyebrows “The way you’ve been eating whilst we’ve been here I shall have to employ you your very own chef when we get home to keep you stocked up on Kung Pao chicken and roast pig.”

He frowned worriedly. “Actually, thinking about it, I think we should call the airport and pay to increase our baggage allowance. We might need to offset it against the extra weight in the plane when you get in.”

Cassie punched him hard in the arm making sure her knuckle was extended. He yelped and rubbed his arm but the smile didn’t leave his face. Mingmei watched on with amusement.

“You bastard!” Cassie hissed. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

Bennett realised he’d perhaps overstepped the boundary. Cassie was sensitive about the fact that she was older than him and always told him she had to work harder to keep her figure in shape. He loved it just the way it was.

He pulled her close, planting a kiss on top of her head. “You look wonderful to me, Cassie, just the way you are. I love your curves.”

She wasn’t mollified by his words, glaring at him fiercely. She was stopped from responding as John Lammington came up and slapped Bennett on the back.

“Bennett! Glad you could join us. We thought you’d gone for a lie down. I thought you might have been a bit stiff after riding that crazy animal this morning.”

He winked at Cassie who felt her face blush red. The double entendre was not lost on anyone. Mingmei looked down, smiling.

Bennett chuckled softly as Cassie went even redder.  “No, no siesta. The woman needed feeding again.”

He made sure to stay out of the way of Cassie’s fist as he wandered over to the table to pile a plate with food. Cassie muttered a rude but very audible swear word at him under her breath, making sure she piled her plate high. She sat next to Bennett at the long communal table. He was amused at her defiant stand.

“So, Bennett. Looking forward to getting back to London and the dreary October weather?” John took a swig of the local Lhasa beer he was partial to.

Bennett shrugged. “I’ve enjoyed it here. It’s been an incredible experience. But Dylan is chomping at the bit to get his latest production up and running. He opens in December and needs some help. So I’ll be giving him a hand at the Val in between filming the rest of Lost.” He looked at John wryly. “Assuming I have any free time at all, that is. You can be a real slave driver.”

The Val as it was lovingly known, real name the Valedictorian, was the theatre that Bennett, Cassie and Dylan owned in London. Bennett had given Cassie thirty five percent of his shares when they got engaged last year. He’d thought it was the perfect engagement gift. He knew she loved the ambience, the quirkiness, camaraderie and drama that went on there.

John chuckled. “Now, Bennett. That coming from one perfectionist to another.” John helped himself to another beer. “Isn’t Dylan’s play some sort of musical about some Australian lady gang?”

Bennett nodded. “It’s about the Razor Gang wars in the mid nineteen twenties in Sydney. He’s done a hell of a job in getting something like that into a musical, but I think it works.”

John grinned. “I understand you aren’t contributing to the stage show. Not your ‘cup of tea’.”  He mocked Bennett’s accent.

Bennett shook his head ruefully. “I’m not fond of singing in public and I’m not the greatest dancer. I’ll stick with drama rather than make a fool of myself trying to belt out a tune.”

“I can vouch for that statement,” muttered Cassie. Bennett saw she was still unforgiving about the weight comment. “Bennett has a tendency to be very noisy when he’s trying to sing Pavarotti in the shower.”

“But I do have other talents you like in the shower, sweetheart.” Bennett regarded her lazily, not wanting to be outdone. He sniggered as Cassie once again blushed pink.

John gave a great laugh. “You two really keep us all amused with your bickering, you know that? It’s been like having two teenagers on set.”

He stood up. “Well, packing beckons. I still have a ton of things to sort out before we leave tomorrow afternoon.” He looked gloomy.  “I suppose we’ll be taking that dodgy tour bus to the local airport and then flying to Lhasa Airport for the flight home. It’s going to be a long couple of days to get home.”

John hadn’t enjoyed the bus ride to the hotel, having white knuckled it all the way due to the driver’s fairly erratic driving narrowly missing the long drops over the side of the mountains. He sighed. “See you kids later.”

Bennett sat back in his chair, closing his eyes, enjoying the rays of the sun on his face. Hearing  a little voice beside him, he opened his eyes to see little Soong Li, the daughter of one of the Hotel Managers, smiling shyly at Cassie as she held out a small carved wooden bird.

Cassie smiled at her as she sat up. “Hello Soong Li. This is beautiful. Is it for me?” She leaned over and took the small bird gently from the child’s outstretched hand. “Did you make this yourself?”

The little girl nodded. “I want you to take it back home with you.” she said in slightly broken English. “To remind you of me and Shangri La.”

Cassie often took the child on her travels with her, mule riding, climbing the nearby mountains and wading down in the river collecting any item of interest the pair could find. The little girl had taken a shine to Cassie and was constantly fascinated by the colour of her hair and the freckles appearing on her face.

Bennett watched the two together now, seeming so comfortable with each other. Cassie couldn’t have any children of her own. She’d been unable to do so even before his mother had attacked Cassie one evening and injured her so badly that it had simply cemented the fact that Cassie would never be a mother.

The closest they’d get would be Bennett’s five year old nephew, Sean, who lived with Bennett’s father at the family home. Bennett and Cassie enjoyed taking him out on the occasional day out but were always glad to see him home to Edward’s.

Cassie hugged the child and Soong Li ran off to join her friends playing nearby. She looked over at Bennett, smiling.  “If you’re finished stuffing your face, I suppose we could go for a walk down by the river. It’ll be the last chance we get.”

He extended his arm to her and they walked out of the hotel courtyard into the dusty road leading down to the river. It was quiet, the clouds settling low upon the horizon and the warm breeze slightly unsettling Cassie’s hair, causing it to blow across her face.

She brushed it back absentmindedly as she walked.  “Have you spoken to Sean recently?”

Bennett was in the habit of calling his nephew with an update on how many yaks he had seen, what the stupid mule had done next and generally painting a vivid picture for the child of what it was like to be in Shangri La.

Bennett nodded. “I spoke to him last night. Apparently he’d had a bad day at school, some kid pinched his lunch and when Sean found out, he punched him in the nose. Mary had to go down to the school and placate them.”  He grinned. “I’d say he’s definitely a Saville.”

Cassie kissed him affectionately on the chin. “Given his uncle’s temper, it sounds like the fruit hasn’t fallen far from the tree albeit a little removed.”

Bennett’s temper was legendary, something he sometimes struggled to control. The last year had certainly tested this to the limit. More than once Cassie had found herself having to defuse him.

They’d reached the river now, sitting down on the grassy bank, taking off their shoes and planting their feet in the cool running water.

“Did you ever think we’d be where we are now?” asked Bennett suddenly. “I mean sitting here together in Shangri La in Tibet. Sometimes it all seems rather surreal.” He glanced at Cassie as she watched the water run over her feet.

“You know I believe things happen for a reason.” she said slowly. “Everything has a purpose. I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing now than sitting here with you in this magical place. January last year I was just plain Cassie Wallace. Now I’m Cassie Wallace, fiancée with a young, filthy rich, sexy man in her bed. Who could possibly have seen that coming?”

She leaned over and kissed him. He pulled her towards her and the kiss grew deeper and more intense. Bennett wound his fingers through her hair, pulling her closer, enjoying the feel of her warm body and the sunshine on his back.  After a few hot and heavy moments they pulled apart.

“I think it’s time for that siesta.” Cassie said huskily, running her fingers down his chest, pausing on his flat stomach and slipping her hands under his loose shirt.

He drew a breath as her hands found the warm skin beneath. “I certainly don’t think we should carry on here, we have an audience.” he murmured, kissing her ear, his tongue darting in and out causing her to shiver.

Cassie looked up in panic and Bennett chuckled. “There’s no one watching, Cassie. I mean that lot over there.” He pointed to where a half a dozen curious yaks were congregating by the river bank, observing them through large brown eyes. Cassie giggled when she saw them.

“Whilst I could quite gladly ravish you here and now, I don’t relish the thought of doing so with them watching me. I don’t like competition.” Bennett stood up, picking up his shoes.

Cassie did the same and together they walked back up to the hotel. The lobby was fairly quiet. Everyone was probably in their rooms packing for tomorrow’s early get away. Their hotel room was cool and the breeze wafted in through the open windows.

No sooner had they closed the door, than Bennett pulled Cassie towards him, his mouth finding hers again, his tongue running its way across her top lip and finally finding its way into her mouth.

She pressed against him, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck, her hands buried in his curly auburn hair. His mouth moved away from hers, down her throat to the swell of her breasts. He felt her nipples harden as he kissed them, his tongue lightly teasing them through her t-shirt. She raised her arms and he slipped off the t-shirt. She wore nothing underneath. He undid her jeans and they fell to the floor as he slipped her panties down her legs. She was naked now, pressing herself against him with an urgency he could feel.

“God, Bennett,” she groaned. “How can you still do this to me? I never get tired of you.”

“Ditto.” he whispered, watching as she unzipped his chinos and undressed him. He heard her give a hiss of satisfaction at what she found. She pulled him over to the bed, her movements urgent and desperate, lying down, desperate to get closer to him.

He continued his body tasting, kissing the inside of her thighs, up her stomach to her breasts again, finally to her mouth. She stroked him as he sighed in pleasure. Her hands moved across his back down to his backside and back up again. Bennett’s fingers softly stroked her where the sensation was incredible and he felt her tremble and moan softly. He kept her waiting, teasing her until she ground her mouth into his.

She moaned. “God, Bennett, now, I can’t wait.”

He raised himself above her, watching her face as he slowly filled her, hearing her groan of pleasure and feeling the intense sensation himself as she clenched her inner muscles around him and rocked beneath him. Her nails scratched his back and he winced in anticipation, remembering a previous love making session where she had almost torn him to pieces.

She remembered too and gasped, “I promise I won’t damage you, Bennett, not like last time.”

He thrust harder into her as they both felt the rising explosion between them and when it arrived, they cried out and shuddered, their mouths grinding together as they reached their peak and collapsed, satiated for the moment, into a heap of limbs on the bed.

“Jesus, Bennett, sex with you just gets better and better every time. Are you sure you’re not practising with anyone else in your spare time?” Cassie leaned over to kiss his nose.

He pretended to consider that before answering. “Not unless you count the ladies at the coffee house near the theatre, the all night strip club or the Woman’s League ladies. Other than them I have to say you’re the only other one.” 

“Do you think we are sex addicts like everyone seems to think?” asked Cassie seriously, causing Bennett to splutter with laughter.

“Cassie, I hardly think a healthy sexual relationship like ours is a sign of addiction. And if it is then I’m all for it.” He leaned over, kissing her again. “I can’t help it that I have this amazingly sexy and beautiful woman who just can’t get enough of me. It’s just you being Cassie that does it for me.”

She cuddled into him. “What about when I’m old and wrinkly and my boobs sag? Will you still want me then?”

Bennett tried to be careful how he answered this one. He knew Cassie was still a little insecure about their age difference.

He pulled her closer, stroking her back and nuzzling her hair.  “I’ll be growing older too, Cass. Hell, I’ll be forty next year. Who knows, my equipment could stop working and then where would you be? You’d have to trade me in for a younger model. It’s all relative.” He kissed her tenderly. “I love you, silly woman. Isn’t that enough for now?”

“I suppose.” She didn’t sound convinced but it was the best he could do.

He sighed and stood up. “I’m going to go take a shower. I think we’re all meeting for drinks at eight tonight.”

He disappeared into the bathroom. She joined him a few minutes later and managed to convince both of them beyond any doubt that his equipment was definitely still working.

Special Smut by the Sea offer for Valentine’s Day and beyond!

Victoria Blisse is here to tell us all about a UK event!

It’s recently been Valentine’s day and we all looked for something special to give to our loved ones. Sometimes though Valentine’s gifts last for no time at all, flowers wilt, chocolates get eaten, champagne drank. How about treating your other half to a great day out by the sea with extra added smutty fun?

Well, we’re offering Smut by the Sea tickets for £7.50 from now until  25^st February 2013. This is a 25% off the usual price. This ticket will get you in to the Smut by the Sea Book launch with free nibbles and a glass of something bubbly plus readings that will get you in the mood for some seaside good loving.

Smut by the Sea takes place on the 22^nd June at Scarborough Library. The event runs all day with readings and an erotic marketplace during the day (10am-4pm), featuring top authors like KD Grace, Janine Ashbless, Victoria Blisse, Lucy Felthouse, Tabitha Rayne, Lexie Bay, Slave Nano and Ruby Kiddell.  And then the evening will showcase Smut by the Sea volumes 1&2 between 6-9 pm.

Pick up tickets for your beloved today and give a gift that will keep on giving! For more details check http://smutbythesea.co.uk and buy your tickets here http://smutbythesea.eventbrite.co.uk/