Wednesday, 29 August 2012

Seaside Memories with Victoria Blisse

Yay! Remember I mentioned that I'd hope to get some of the authors from Smut By The Sea over? Well, here's Ms Victoria Blisse and not only is she one of the authors, but also one of the editors - she's here to talk about her...

Seaside Memories.

Thanks for having me at your place, Tabitha, it’s a pleasure to be here and to be able to talk some more about Smut by the Sea, the awesome anthology we both feature in.  
I would imagine that most British people can think of a time when they went to the seaside when they were little. We’re a small Island country and no one is ever more than a few hours away from the sea.  I remember going on holiday every year from the age of around six.  And just about every year we went to Scarborough.
Scarborough is on the North East coast of  England, in Yorkshire and it is made up of two bays. It has a fetching old castle on it’s headland and contains just about everything you need for a seaside holiday. Including 2 beaches.  It hasn’t changed much over the years, I still visit Scarborough regularly, and the beach front is pretty similar to how it’s always been, with the odd change in bench style and flooring.
I love to sit on the beach and make sandcastles still to this day and it always kept me entertained as a kid. I don’t venture into the sea as much now but that used to be a staple, tucking my skirt into my knickers and going for a paddle.
I definitely don’t do that now!
And food on the front tastes better, I suppose it’s the sea air. Fish is so fresh as it’s caught and thrown into the fryers near enough and doughnuts and Ice cream just seem to benefit from the sea air. You can’t beat eating an ice cream on the beach.
As a child one of my greatest joys was getting to ride the open top bus. All the ones at home were boring and had a roof on but the one’s in Scarborough didn’t and I was always giddy with excitement when we got to ride on it.  I still look forward to my open top bus ride now, and ensure we fit it in at some time during a visit. Even if it means having a wooly hat on!
So when I was thinking of what to write for my Smut by the Sea story it was obvious I’d set it in Scarborough and it’s unsurprising that an open top bus is involved…

Here’s a snippet from my Story “a Proper British Seaside Holiday.”

I sat beneath the Victorian awning of the park across from the beach, drank weak tea from a polystyrene cup and was content. I’ve eaten caviar, visited the classiest restaurants in old London town and never even really tasted the food because I’d always been too focused on saying the right things and sealing the deal. The fact I needed to get a better balance in my life became clearer with every scorching sip.
My view over the bay was obscured by a bus with no roof. Giggling, I remembered how much I loved to ride the open-top bus in my youth. It was always the highlight of the holiday, sitting high and watching the scenery fly by.
I looked up the road and saw a bus stop. Leaping up with great purpose I headed for it. I was going to ride the bus. It was the next step in revisiting my childhood and recapturing my joy.
I jumped on the next one that came along, paid my fare and climbed upstairs. No one was up there. That wasn't a surprise since it was still raining hard. I sat down near the back. I always wanted to sit at the back when I was little and my parents wouldn’t let me. It was fun to let my little rebel take over.
The seat was damp and cold and the water seeped into my jeans. I’d have to go back to the hotel and change again once the trip was over, but then I could maybe enjoy the firm mattress of my bed while I waited for my clothes to dry. Apparently, once you reawaken a libido it doesn’t give you five minutes rest.
It's hard to appreciate the view when rain is slapping you in the face like an irate lover. So I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the harsh rush of wind against my cheeks and listened to the pitter-patter of the drops dancing over my coat. I felt the bus stop, so I opened my eyes. I was near the harbour, fishing boats sitting quietly in the water, huddling together before their next jaunt out to sea.
I heard the clomp, clomp, clomp of shoes on the stairs and I wondered who on earth was as crazy as me to want to sit up in the elements. It turned out to be a very handsome man in a red raincoat similar to my own. He cracked a smile when he saw me, his head just peering over the top of the barrier as he continued up the stairs.
“I thought I’d be the only one crazy enough to sit up here in this weather.” His voice was earthy and deep with a hint of the local accent. I wanted to hear more of it.
“No, no. I’m afraid you’ve not got the monopoly on crazy today.”
“So,” he said, covering the distance from the front of the bus to the back in a few long strides. He was very tall and did I mention handsome? I was sure the wetness seeping between my thighs wasn’t simply the rain. This tall, dark man was whispering to my most feminine desires. “What brings you up here on such an inclement day?”
“Appreciation of life.” I replied with a smirk.
“Ah, that.” He nodded, “do you mind if I sit with you?”
“Not at all, as long as you don’t mind getting a wet arse.” I chuckled uneasily. I shouldn’t have mentioned his bum, I hardly knew him!
“I’m already wet everywhere else, what’s another body part in the grand scale of things?” He sat down and offered me his hand. “Hello, I’m Daniel. You’re not from round here, are you?”
“I’m Abby. I’m from Manchester but I live in London right now.”
“Well, that explains a lot,” he smiled, “the dark around your eyes, the half lingering sense of hopelessness, the rounded vowels.”
I should have been offended but I was stunned by how observant he was.
“You’ve got me,” I shrugged. “I’m trying to rediscover myself. Shit as that sounds.”
“I understand,” he said. “I’m pretty certain we should all spend more time doing that kind of stuff and less time worrying. It has a better yield, anyway.”
I nodded and twisted my fingers together in my lap. I was suddenly acutely aware of his body heat beside me and the scant half inch between his arm and mine.
“Do you live here?” I asked, finding conversation far less scary than silence and my erratic, erotic thoughts.
“Yeah.” Daniel nodded. “Most of my life.”
“Lucky sod.” I said with a sigh.
“It’s not a bad life,” he agreed, though I saw a little sadness in the depth of his darkened eyes. “Took me a while to work that out, though.”
It’s difficult to describe something that happened without word or movement but I realised then that Daniel understood me and my troubles. It’s like his soul recognised the same weakness in mine.
“Look,” he turned his body towards me, “this is going to seem very forward of me but, I’ve been looking at your lips and they’re just calling to be kissed. Would you mind if I just leaned in a touch and rested my lips against yours for a bit?”
Propriety would have screamed at me to shout no and to run like the wind away from the man with determination and longing in his eyes. Luckily I was there with passion, not propriety, and passion urged me to nod my head and lean in to speed up the action. I’m never usually so impulsive but as his lips brushed mine I knew I’d made the right choice. Daniel’s warmth flowed from his body into mine.

To read more, pick up Smut by the Sea today!  If you’d like to hear this story and others read, then make plans to visit Scarborough on the 22nd June next year as there’s a huge Smut by the Sea Event!  with an erotic market, readings and more.  I hope I’ll see you there!

Monday, 27 August 2012

Corporate Spy Spotlight

Here's a snippet of Casey Sheridan's new Release!

Corporate Spy 
by Casey Sheridan

Sent to steal a secret file, Aimee breaks into the apartment of Bill James, the handsome employee of a rival company. But before she can get her hands on the file, Bill returns home unexpectedly.
Is Aimee caught in the act? Or is it mission accomplished?



When Aimee stepped inside the room, her foot kicked a stack of frames leaning against the wall. She closed the door behind her, and crouched down to get a better look; that’s when she noticed the large black digital camera on the floor next to the frames.
Each frame contained a black and white photograph: a Dodge Viper with a leggy brunette, a young man sitting on a Ducati motorcycle, a woman holding an umbrella and giving the photographer a coy look over her shoulder, and a tumble-down stone cottage standing in the middle of a desert.
Nice work, she thought. Too bad she didn’t have time to look through the rest of them. The time on the nightstand clock told her she’d better get straight to work.
Aimee quickly made her way over to the desk and shuffled through the papers scribbled with notes on photo shoots and web design. She sifted through folders with more notes and drawings of photography ideas that lay around the computers. Clearly, he got into photography when he wasn’t out riding his bike.
She then rifled through a box with numerous flash drives. Not one of them was the drive she needed. She had to find the right one.
She glanced at the clock. Only twenty minutes left. Twenty minutes before he would be back. Twenty minutes to look for a gold flash drive that could be hidden anywhere.
She rummaged through the desk drawers, moving pens, pencils, and markers. She checked inside the box of staples; opened envelopes and looked through their contents. She even dumped out a box of paperclips, hoping the drive would be hidden among them. Then she checked the underside and back of the drawers for any secret compartments.
Fifteen minutes left.
Her shoulders slumped as she slid the last drawer back into place, and then she turned to scan the room.
“Shit,” she cursed under her breath. Where could it be?
A faint noise caught her attention, and she tilted her head to one side, trying to catch every sound, but she heard nothing other than the ticking of the clock.
Aimee knelt on the floor and looked under the bed, hoping there would be a lockbox or something that held the drive inside, but there was nothing. That’s when she heard it–the unmistakable clatter of keys as they landed on a table. Her eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat.
He’s back early!
As she knelt next to the bed, she could hear him whistling as he came closer to the bedroom. Her gaze darted frantically around the room. She had to find a place to hide. But where? She jumped up, rolled across the mattress, and scooted into the closet just moments before the bedroom door swung open.

Casey Sheridan wrote her first erotic story on a dare, and  she loved writing it so much she never stopped. Her erotica and erotic romance has been published by Breathless Press and Cobblestone Press, and has appeared on The Erotic Woman, Every Night Erotica and RSVP-Erotica.
She loves to read and write, could spend all day in a book story, art museum, or chocolate shop. She also enjoys music, watching movies, and spending time with those she loves.
You can find her on the Web at:

Wednesday, 22 August 2012

I'm Free!

Well hello there - have I got a surprise for you-hooo!

My newest release is a short story called The Gentleman including in the Xcite anthology, Backstage Rider - and guess what? - The whole collection can be yours on Kindle - for FREE! For the next couple of days only - so hurry hurry - get yourself a saucy night in for nowt!

Here's a little snippet from my story to get you in the mood for some saucy action with an older gentleman...

Deborah was used to getting what she wanted. So when one Bertram Tigworth Esq told her she was too young to hold his interest she made ready for war.
Too young? She was thirty-two! She’d had her eye on Bertram for quite a while now – he owned a terribly dull looking bookshop in a side street downtown. She knew he used to be a lawyer and his taste in books probably reflected his previous occupation. Not that she really knew for sure, since any tome she’d picked up in his shop was purely used to peer over and admire his immaculate presence.  Since he’d given her the brush off, Deborah was determined to have him. She’d never felt such attraction to a man before – he reminded her of her incredibly strict physics teacher at school, who she’d had a huge crush on. She would try her very best to get top marks by flashing him a dazzling smile as she turned in another half hearted essay – it didn’t work then either, he would sigh and pass her back a C- must try harder.  And now, fifteen years later, that’s exactly what she intended to do. She put on her most sophisticated pencil skirt and billowing blouse and sauntered past his shop daily, perfecting her Parisian gait. It made her wet just to walk by. Sometimes a trickle of moisture would make it down between her thighs and she’d snake her hips rubbing her juices over the flesh between the top of her legs. On more than one occasion a wolf whistle would come her way from the perpetual workmen and she’d haughtily snub it, glancing quickly to the open door of Tigworth Books behind her Jackie-O sunglasses.

This story is also included in the full collection called Cougars and Jackals where you'll find TWENTY hot stories of lust from all your faves..

Sunday, 19 August 2012

Kisses on the beach...

Well, this is my very first time joining in with Victoria Blisse's Sunday Snog! So if you're new to it too - click on the links and banner to take you to more kissing action. I'm sharing a kiss from my new story Una's Retreat which is included in Smut By The Sea anthology - here's a little more info on the collection of saucy seaside tales and I'm not a little star struck by the other authors!

Light hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse. From the sun soaked bays of Australia to the rainy coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Surfer boys, sea creatures, pirates and the fairground abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors. 
Here's a kiss from my story, Una's Retreat...

Closing her eyes, Una sank under the surface and blinked them open again to see shafts of sun slicing through the great body of water and striking the golden bed of sand. Fish darted in and out of the beams like living stars and she was overcome with the wonder of it all. For the first time ever in her life she felt no fear and let the water take her weight, cradling and rocking her gently. Her hair floated and wrapped around in the currents that she made and she felt like an ethereal mermaid.  She let her limbs go loose and began a slow hypnotic dance with the fish. It occurred to her that she’d never let go like this – just given over to anything, relinquished control. For a while she let herself just live in this abandonment of power and relish the weightlessness of it all. Colourful little fish swam up close to her and she felt her heart swell at this touching display of curiosity. Reaching out to one of them she smiled as it took fright only to return with renewed bravery just seconds later. Time meant nothing in this underwater world and for the first time, she felt herself truly relax.
Finally taking time to consider her situation, Una realised that she had never felt so free. She tried to wrap herself around this precious feeling and hold it close to her heart, and yet something began to nag at her. The slow dawning then sudden awareness of how lonely and small she was in this vast living ocean. Indeed, how small and lonely she was in her life. She was about to give up and return to the surface but as soon as the thought entered her mind, there he was; her daily Adonis swimming towards her, determined and shark like. Una’s flesh trembled and every pore reached out to meet him. His eyes fixed hers and she smiled opening her arms wide to catch his embrace. Expecting a gentle wrapping of bodies, she was shocked when his chest slammed into hers. His strength was incredible and he commanded her like a possession, gripping and owning her. Una’s breath was knocked from her and bubbles of light began to dance in her peripheral vision. It was like the moment in films of old where the kiss came and the heroine’s foot lifted. Una smiled at her own clichéd fantasy and closed her eyes to receive his lips.
Everything went dark and silent and all she could feel was this point – this place where they met and shared themselves. At last he kissed her. It was exquisite. Powerful, manly, masterful. Everything she’d dreamed it would be. Again she felt her conscious self slip away until there was only here and now, this kiss…

Want to read more?

Remember to check out some more Sunday Snogs - thanks for dropping by x x x

Monday, 13 August 2012

Smut By The Sea - released and available!

Well due to technical problemos (mainly human error) I am a couple of days late with this news...

On Friday, Smut By The Sea was released for your reading pleasure!

Hopefully I'll be bringing you snippets of other contributing authors in upcoming posts. As usual it's cheeky, saucy, good lovin' fun.

You can exhale at last - It's HERE! - Smut By The Sea - edited by Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse is a collection of erotic and smutty tales from the seaside with some of my favourite authors sharing their stories of beach inspired naughtiness.

My story, Una's Retreat, is about a young woman escaping to a remote sands in search of solitude and relaxation - of course her plans go awry when a handsome stranger shows up...

Go on, you know you want one!

Amazon UK
Amazon .com
All Romance

Here's a snippet from Una...

Raising herself up on her elbows, Una shielded her eyes against the sun glancing off the crystal sea. There he was again. She held her breath and took in every sinew of his tantalizingly familiar body.
For the past five mornings at precisely this time, while she’d been cultivating her tan, he had sauntered past like a racehorse in its prime.
He looked over and smiled, nodding in acknowledgement of her presence just as he had every other morning. This time though, Una felt brazen enough to return the gesture and was surprised at the heat that rushed through her bikini clad body, just by smiling hello. Each tiny hair on her skin lifted in turn and flowed across her body in a Mexican wave of sensation. Feigning disinterest as he dove into the water, she turned her head but kept her eyes fixed on to his athletic frame. When he was fully submerged she tried to recline in a sophisticated pose back on the hot sand and sink into relaxation.
A retreat. She’d fled the city, the unfulfilling job, the constant social pressure, the stress, the ex and come to a place that she thought, was guaranteed to be far away and remote enough to finally let go and even find herself – whatever that meant. Una had been feeling so crowded recently, never a space in her life to call her own so when this morning stranger had passed her way, she’d been disappointed at first – thinking him an intrusion to her comforting isolation. But when his sleek body had slipped through the water, barely disturbing the rhythm of the softly slapping waves, her senses had pricked and Una had watched in admiration as he swam off around the bay in lazy gliding strokes.
If she’d been a swimmer, Una might have followed him but the thought of land giving way to nothing but an abyss of liquid made her shudder...

Here's the full line up - Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

Thursday, 9 August 2012

I’m a Smutylmpian!

Look at my lovely prizes!
I won gold at the Smutylmpics! Watching all this amazing Olympic action makes me wish I'd stuck in at sports –so I was delighted when the fabulous Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse launched The Smutylimpics. Well, I went along and read the event blogs with some fantastic stories to whet your athletic appetite =
I read a story by Lisabet Sarai once which just blew my mind – her work can combine such spirituality and sexuality – something which I love to explore – anyhoo – I commented on her Smutylimpic entry and lo and behold – my comment won me a gold prize! And I got a massive bag of swag sponsored by Erotica For all. See picky... 

I do feel like a very lucky girl! But there's more - I wanted to share a story with you – for all my naughty word play and filthy story making, I am cringingly prudish about a lot of things – one of which is ordering personal or risqué things from catalogues or the internet – (I know, in this day and age, can you imagine??)

And I’ll tell you why. Now most ladies will tell you that at a certain time in our school careers, we get separated form the boys and taken to a hall where a nurse tells us all about our changing bodies. Now, as if that isn’t’ embarrassing enough, at the end you are given the opportunity to fill in your address to get some samples of the equipment you will be needing as you approach womanhood. So, after being reassured that it would be in the most careful and discreet packaging, I duly signed up for these intimate lady treasures.
Fast forward 14 days to a banging on the door and my name being called. Could it be my parcel? I ran down the stairs excited and nervous and opened the front door to an extremely handsome postman holding out a clear plastic bag with a ripped brown paper package inside with tampons, panty liners and some strange elastic contraption spilling around inside. He held it up and peered at me through it, apologising for the mishap, and told me that it didn’t look like anything was missing.
I died. I did. Then I died again. I think I spent the rest of the afternoon cringing and dying into my pillow.
So that’s why I usually go to shops to by anything of an intimate nature.
I have got over it to a certain degree from ordering naughty books but my package from Erotica For all – contained a little more sauce than just books!
And it arrived safely! In one piece.
I might be getting over my teenage horror story.
At last.
Thanks Smutylimpics!!! X x x 
I'm off to have fun with my goody bag... see you in a while x

Monday, 6 August 2012

Fulfill Me - with Victoria Blisse

For your reading pleasure ladies and gentlemen, I'm showing off the newest naughty release from the lovely Ms Victoria Blisse - have a squizz a this...

Fulfill Me by Victoria Blisse
Caitlyn is out to get what she wants and she desperately wants Nick Casey, Star of Dobsons Digs the biggest soap on TV. She will do anything to get into his life but one thing, one person always stops her. His annoying yet handsome PA Mike.
But there is more to Nick and to Mike than she could ever have first imagined. She ends up on a journey from one side of BDSM to the complete opposite and all the time she’s just looking for the man who can make her whole.
Buy links:

Here's a juicy excerpt to whet your appetite...

I pick up my coat, and feel Nicks hands helping me into it, like the gentleman he obviously is. We walk outside, I wave to the others as I leave, my hand in the crook of Nick’s arm, my face set in a knowing smirk that I know will drive the others crazy.  Outside Nick leads me to a sleek grey Porsche Boxster. He leads me to the passenger side door and lets me in, holding the door until I sit down, then he closes it gently behind me. He is a gentleman (or paranoid about his Porsche getting beaten up) and I admire his strong frame as he walks around the front of the car, seating himself beside me.
“Where am I taking you?” I reply with my address and he nods, “Yeah, I know where you mean, it’s not far from where I live, actually.”
“Oh good. I’m glad you wont be going too far out of your way.”
He drives with the confidence and speed of a secret spy. He takes a particularly sharp corner, pretending to overbalance I reach out my hand till it lands on his thigh, and squeeze it, as if I were using it to break my fall.
“Sorry,” he croaks. “I get a bit carried away sometimes.”
“No problem.” I reply, my hand still lying at the top of his thigh. “I’m just a bit of a delicate girly girl sometimes.” I squeeze his thigh again, and feel his cock twitch in his pants. I am wet, I want to just pull the lever to lie the chair back and let him take me here and now. Not that he could do that. Driving and fucking at the same time is impossible, even for a big star like Nick.
I lift my hand away, so he can get to the gear stick, I lick my lips, as I think about getting my hands on his gear stick that I can see pressing against the crotch of his jeans. When he pulls up outside my flat, I smile over to him as I undo my safety belt. “Thank you so much for the lift, you saved me the trial of finding a taxi on a Friday night.”
“It was definitely my pleasure,” he replies, leaning over, angled towards me. I tip into the middle myself and land a gentle kiss on his cheek, then I feel his skin move below my lips, and suddenly I’m lip to lip with a sex god. With my sexual fantasy.
My hand presses onto his arm to hold me up and his other hand sweeps down my bare arm giving me goose bumps and setting my spine to trembling. My lips are fused to his, the nerves alight, as if theyre melting onto his, hot, liquid kisses which slip into the French, tongues rolling against one another, dueling and caressing.
This isnt just a kiss it is the kiss. The most important of an episode, the one where their lips finally meet, fireworks, screaming classical violins and neon lighting all try to take the moment, but the lips have it. The kiss is the main star and everything else fades into the background. When a couple of my motor neurons manage to spark once again, I pull out of the kiss. I know its important to take control now, to deprive him of me, not to cling or seem too wanting.
I take a staggered breath and unclick my door. “Ill see you Monday then Nick.” I manage to squeeze the words out between my raw lips.
“See you then, Caitlyn. Goodbye.”
I step out and walk directly to my door, fighting the urge to turn round and watch him drive away. I struggle to walk as the blood is pumping around me so fast, I feel like Ive just gotten off a treadmill.  Once through the door I strike my fist into the air, and yell, “YESSSSSSSSSS!”
I startle Old Mr. Connors who was coming home from his night cap. I apologise sheepishly and run up the stairs to the safety of my flat.