That's What Friends Are For by Lucy Felthouse

My story ideas come from here, there and everywhere. It could be an overheard conversation, a person, a place, a book, a film – literally anything could just give me a spark of an idea to be turned into a full story.  However, I do also have a few friends who will occasionally send me an email or text message, and say "You should totally write this as a story!" Sometimes, of course, the ideas aren't brilliant and get dismissed. Occasionally, though, there's a gem which I can turn into an erotic or erotic romance tale.

A Menu with a Difference was one of these. A buddy of mine, who shall remain nameless, mentioned that he had a fantasy about going with his girlfriend to a bar or restaurant and picking up a waitress to take home for a threesome. To be honest, I think his main aim was to get his girlfriend into bed with another woman so he could watch them play together! As far as I'm aware, it's only ever remained a fantasy for him, but it was certainly good enough an idea for me to weave up into an erotic story.

Of course, I gave the characters a little more back story so it made the whole situation more feasible. The couple in the story, Jed and Annette have an open relationship, and Annette has always fantasised about having sex with another girl, so them picking up a hot waitress was a lot more realistic than the whole thing being completely random and instigated by Jed with no prior mention of it to Annette. In reality, I suspect most guys would get a slap if they tried that!

Once I'd figured this part of the plot out, everything else just came together. The restaurant, the chatting up of the sexy waitress, the ploy to get her to the hotel... and then the really naughty bits ;) It was a great story to write, and I'm glad it's out there with its damn sexy cover.

And all that from a friend's fantasy. Is that what friends are really for? ;) Speaking of which, I must send my buddy the link so he can see the fruits of my labour and his utilised idea!

*****

Will a weekend in a luxury hotel make Annette’s deepest fantasies come true?

When Jed and Annette spend a weekend in a luxury hotel, they’re planning to take full advantage of the hot tub and large bed – preferably with a third party. Annette’s never been with another woman before, but she’s eager to experience some Sapphic delight. When the couple meets waitress Tamara at the restaurant they’re lunching at, they agree she’s perfect in many ways; but is she on the menu?

More info, excerpt and buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/a-menu-with-a-difference/

*****

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story - so she did. It went down a storm and she's never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. You can also find her on Facebook and Twitter.

Writing Through The "Hard" Parts*

*Yes, the triple entendre was intentional.

     One of the most commonly held misconceptions about erotic romance writers is that they've only got "one thing" on their mind. 24/7/365, sex, sex, sex, is all we think about. While this may be true for a lot of erotic romance authors, I'm not one of them.
     Something that people often forget to take into account is the fact that I have a household to keep running, bills to pay, and the ever-present and oft-lamented day job to deal with. I'm a human being, and so am subject to all the frailties of the flesh. That means that I get tired. I get injured.
     And sometimes, to my utter disgust, I get sick.
     Most times, illness isn't that big a deal; a few days of discomfort, a day in bed, and it's more or less sorted. But what happens when the ailment is more serious? Like, say, a kidney stone?
     If you've never had one, I highly recommend, given the chance, you take a pass on the experience. Trust me when I say it's not the kind of thing you'd mind forgetting, if you ever could. If you have had one, and are currently squirming in remembered anguish at your computer right now, I feel your pain.
     Literally.
     The trouble is, I can't write an erotic scene if I can't feel it. I have to be able to experience it with all five senses, regardless of whether or not I actually have the real-life experience or capacity to do so. I have to be able to feel it and get turned on by it myself if I'm going to write it; otherwise I'm going to read it and it will feel hollow and unsatisfying. If it feels that way to me, how will it read to my audience? Simple. It'll look exactly the same. Result? That scene will never see daylight.
     As evidence, I refer you to "Espiritu Sancti." Although I'm not a lesbian, not being a female, I can and do appreciate the female form to a degree that borders on...well, not obsession, because that would be unhealthy and make me out to be some ooky stalkerish type. Which I'm not. Last I checked, anyway. But you get the idea.
      Now, the problem with any illness concerning the male plumbing is that it makes you feel about as unsexy as you can get. That sounds odd, coming from a guy, but bear with me here. A woman has a bad hair day. A PMS day. A just generally "I feel like Hell, look worse, and don't want to be bothered, so don't even think it!" day. And I'm going to let you in on a little secret.
      Guys have their own version of this. If you've seen Bill Engvall talking about "bad weiner days," believe me, he's not exaggerating. I have days when I get out of bed and every hair's in place, I'm sporting just the right amount of bad-boy stubble, and all my clothes drape over me like they were tailor-made. Those are the good days.
       The next day, I may wake up, look in the mirror, shake my head and say, "Jesus. Does your undertaker know you're up?" Those are the days when it doesn't matter how close the shave is, how much gel I put in my hair, or how much I spent on my threads. I look and feel like shit, at least in my own eyes.
       Now, let's take the latter day. Add in the feeling of having been kicked in the testicles. Repeatedly. From the female point of view, you've been kicked in the side. Repeatedly.
       How sexy are you going to feel? I'm going to bet the answer is, "NOT!"
       I'm no different. When the idea of getting aroused causes me physical pain, I can't write erotica. It's not that I don't want to; I'm a guy. Anything that has to do with sex, I'm good with. When I'm on my game, then I'm the 24/7/365 guy I talked about earlier. But I shy away from anything to do with it when I don't feel sexy. My equivalent of the "so what if my hair's in curlers, I'm not wearing a smudge of makeup, and my sweatpants were last a color I could define when Reagan was in the White House?" day.
     But just because I'm not feeling sexy doesn't mean I can't still offer up a little something for your reading pleasure. So, since I did an excerpt from "Angel Of The Morning" not that long ago, I'm going to leave you with this sexy little vignette from Red Roses and Shattered Glass. I hope you enjoy it!

      Until next time,

      Best,

      J.S. Wayne

             Excerpt from "Espiritu Sancti"

             It was a fine night, cool but not unpleasantly so, and the stars and a sickle moon hung in the sky as if placed there specifically for their benefit. It was then, while they stood next to each other, not quite touching, that Lilliana began to speak of her loneliness.

            "It has been a long time since I've had a lover. My last love affair ended badly, and ever since, I've kept people at a distance. Have you ever been wounded by love?" Lilliana turned the full force of her eyes on Isabel.

            Isabel thought it over. "I . . . think so," she said. Her fingers clenched, belying her apparent hesitancy. "My last boyfriend was a real bastard." She added bitterly. "He was a football player and fucked his way through the entire cheerleading squad while we were together. I thought he was going to marry me." She  finished, her tone changing from venomous to pensive as she thought of how foolish she'd been. She dropped her gaze to the floor as a hot flush spread across her sharp cheekbones.

            "Bah!" Lilliana waved her hand dismissively. "Men will say whatever will make a woman do what they wish. There is no more truth in men's words than those of a mockingbird. Only a woman can truly speak with complete candor to a woman. May I be candid?" Her eyes bored into Isabel's.

Lilliana's eyes seemed to gather the light of moon and stars and transmute into silver. They were the most striking eyes Isabel had ever seen; Isabel's knees went weak for the second time that night, this time with desire.

            Unconsciously arching her back a little, revealing her throat, and pushing her full, firm breasts outward, Isabel let out a quavered, "Y-yes."

            "I want you tonight." Lilliana reached out one cool finger to trace it gently down Isabel's cheek. "I want to love you. Will you allow me?"

            Isabel's eyes slid closed, and she gasped a little at the sensations stirring deep within her. She made a tiny whimper of a sound; whether it was acceptance or negation, she could not have said. But Lilliana allowed her no chance to consider the matter further. Pressing her lips against Isabel's, she lightly flicked her tongue against the soft gates. As if she had spoken a magic word, Isabel's lips parted to permit Lilliana full access. Her tongue darted and probed. She caught Isabel up in a fierce yet tender embrace, crushing her breasts against Isabel's. Lilliana's arms ratcheted around her, as if the woman feared Isabel would fly away if the grip were loosened.

            Isabel was interested in going nowhere except deeper into Lilliana's embrace. She'd experimented, certainly; who hadn't tried it on at least once with a member of their own sex? It was almost a rite of passage. But she had never been kissed like this before. The arms which held her were feminine and shapely but in no way weak. The woman's mouth touched her as light as a breeze but seething with passion the likes of which she had never known.

            She moaned against Lilliana and pressed herself more fully into her mysterious lover's arms, her blood singing at the wonderful feel of another female body against her own. Lilliana deepened the kiss, as if trying to inhale Isabel's very soul.

Exciting Times!

Hi everyone! I'm Lucy Felthouse and I recently had my first title published with Noble Romance. A Bit of Rough is an erotic short story. Well I say it's a short story, but it's long for me (though my next Noble release, coming in June, is even longer). Here's the blurb:

When Alison meets Andrew, she instantly pegs him as a moron. He’s a total bad boy and does nothing but chain smoke and brag about his stream of past conquests. Yet, much to her confusion, Alison still finds herself attracted to him. She’s not had sex in a while, so Alison figures there’s no harm in going home with him to get herself a bit of rough.

Working with Noble has been a brilliant experience for so many reasons. First, it was exciting to be accepted by a new-to-me publisher. Then I found out I was joining an awesome bunch of authors, all of whom have been so supportive and encouraging. On top of that, there were cover art forms (something I've never had to do before!), working with an editor, and finding out my book would be one of the first to be launched on the brand new Noble website!

So, as you can see, there's some major Snoopy dancing going on over here. I'm delighted with how A Bit of Rough turned out and I'm sure you'll agree the cover is *HAWT*. I'd love to hear what you think of my erotic tale J

I look forward to getting to know you all better.

Happy writing, everyone!

Lucy xx

http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk

http://www.twitter.com/cw1985

https://www.facebook.com/lucyfelthousewriter

Sexy Angels?

     Yeah. Why not?
     The second most frequently asked question I get is, "What on earth possessed you to write erotica featuring angels?" (The first, for those of you who are curious, is "Are you gay?" The answer to this one is no, as my wife will attest. I am, however, secure enough to claim a gay man among one of my best friends and have no issues going into a gay bar and ordering a drink. Jack Daniels tastes the same, no matter the orientation or gender of the hand pouring it. Trust me.)
     To answer the second question: I've read erotica featuring vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and every other damn thing. But I'd never run across erotica featuring angels. I had to wonder why. I knew it had to be out there. After all, the idea of angels and mortals falling in love and even procreating is as old as human civilization, and for all I know, might even predate it.
     For the skeptic, I refer you to Genesis: The mighty men, the men who were of old? You may know them as the Titans and demigods of Greek mythology. The Greek pantheon seemed to have a fairly strict "hands off the humans...unless I'm horny" mindset. Then all bets were off. Zeus himself took the form of a bull, a swan, a shower of gold...shall I continue? All in the service of getting himself a little on the side, much to Hera's (understandable) irritation. And that was one god.
     Now, let's take that and translate it into Judeo-Christian terms. According to the Bible, the Torah, and yes, even the Qu'ran, there is an angel for every rock, tree, and blade of glass. There is an angel for every human quality and virtue, and a demon or fallen angel for every vice. To the student of comparative religion, the gods of the Greek, Norse, Roman, Egyptian, and other panthea bear a striking resemblance to the angels we recognize today.
     Hence, the idea of humans and godlike or godly beings being intimate is nothing new. But there seemed to be a distinct silence on the subject in the erotica I came across. Why? Too taboo? Surely not. Because it may offend people? Perhaps, but that still didn't feel quite right.
     The popular concept of an angel is either a benign, cute little cherub (properly pronounced kehr-OOB, if you're curious) wearing a diaper a la Cupid.

Aww, how cute.

Or a menacing. awe-inspiring being with the power to lay waste to whole continents, like Michael, here.

Yeah, I really don't want to piss this guy off.

     There seems to be no middle ground in these concepts. I had to wonder why.
     Now we get to the meat of the matter. I like to shake things up. I ignore the "Don't Walk On The Grass" signs because, simply by virtue of them being there, I have to walk on the grass. I have to find out what's so damn special about this grass here versus the signless grass across the street. And I love to hear people say, "You can't," just so I can find out why.
     I admit it. When I wrote my first angelic erotica story, "Angels Would Fall," I wanted to shock my reader. I wanted to do something just taboo enough to make them think twice. I wanted to do something off the edge of the map, something new. Then I reread Genesis and found out, to my chagrin, that I wasn't doing anything of the sort. Mea culpa. As I got more immersed in the erotic romance community, this was only reinforced; as evidence I hold up Bryl Tyne's Zagzagel series.
     But the idea of angels being sexy, and especially angels of Death being sexy, simply would not die. Since I am something of a scholar of angelic lore and comparative religion, I decided to take a step back from Moradiel and Ariel and turn the long lens on the broader implications of their love. What better way than by bringing beings from Heaven and Hell (or the Otherplace and Infernus, as I call them) together and making them lovers?
      I can't take full credit for the idea, though. Something similar had been percolating in my mind for a while, but then my friend Jane Ellis decided to throw down the gauntlet on a writing contest. Just her and me, mano e mano, if you will. She set the prompt: A demon's day off.
      Thus was born "Angel of the Morning." The original picture that I used in the contest was this image, which I saw and immediately fell in love with:

     I have a thing for redheads. What can I say?
     We assigned a judge and a timeframe of one week. To my delight, my story won; but give Jane credit. She wrote a very good, very macabre little piece to put up against mine. To my intense relief, we're still friends; the competition got a little heated at points, complete with smack talk.
     After Noble told me they wanted to publish "Angels Would Fall," I decided to take a chance and sent off the story. I nearly fell out of my chair when the email hit saying that it, too, had been accepted. And then, just yesterday morning, I got an email from Noble's resident cover artist, Fiona Jayde, containing this breathtaking cover:

     So, just to whet your appetite, I'm going to offer you just a little taste of things to come:

     

              She turned to see a stocky red-haired man with a wild beard standing there. He was wearing blue jeans and a black T-shirt that was stretched nearly to ripping over his thickly corded muscles. His bottle-green eyes glinted with good humor. 

            “Benoth!” she cried, throwing her arms around him.

            “Aurora,” he whispered, leaning into her embrace and taking a moment to appreciate the scent he had been so long denied.

            “I still can’t believe you got away,” she murmured, savoring the feel of his body against hers.

            “Wasn’t easy,” he assured her. “Demons--” He pulled a hand away to wave it over his body. “--Don’t get days off, paid holidays, or sick leave. I had to tell Gaap that Azrael wanted to speak with me.”

            “Azrael!” Aurora recoiled in revulsion. “What’s he got to do with you?”

            “He’s looking for Moradiel,” Benoth said quietly. “Apparently he fell in love with a soul he was supposed to take. Azrael’s been looking everywhere, but apparently lost their trail in southern Illinois. He reckons they probably came here.”

            “What did Gaap say to that?” Aurora asked, astounded. There hadn’t been a case of a death angel falling in love in her memory, which spanned millennia. They were a cold and stoic lot who didn’t bother with emotion of any sort as a rule. For Moradiel, one of the best and most efficient Soulbearers, to fail in such a disastrous way could only augur ill things ahead.

            “Azrael’s beyond furious,” Benoth pointed out. “Even Gaap doesn’t dare go against him. Lucifer will probably rant and rave about Heaven’s minions interfering with the structure of Hell for the next six months, but so what?” He shrugged to emphasize his unconcern with the situation. “No one ever sees him anymore, anyway. Gaap’s in a fair state about it; he’s been trying to become a Regent.”

            Aurora chuckled. “Not much chance of that. Gaap’s a manipulative little toad and Lucifer knows it. How much time do you have?”

            “I’ve as long as it takes, my love,” he assured her. “You?”

            Her blue eyes darkened a little. “Only until twilight. Then I have to go.”

            “Who’s minding the store?” he queried.

            She smiled again at the memory. “Metatron. He and I had a wager, and he lost. If I’d lost, I’d have to bear the entire sum of human knowledge for a day so he could go look at a supernova somewhere around Vega.”

            Benoth’s bushy eyebrows went up. “What was the wager?”

            She laughed throatily. “It was almost too easy. We cut a deck of cards. I told him if he could tell me what card I was holding, I’d give him a day off and the other way around. I pulled a three of diamonds, he swore it was the jack of spades.”

            He gave a full-voiced laugh that rang off the marble-sheathed walls and floor. 

           

     Keep your eyes open, folks. There's plenty more angelic hotness where that came from, and "Angel of the Morning" is coming soon!
     Thanks for coming by. See you soon!

     Until next time,

     Best,

     J.S. Wayne

Release Day for Love Revisited-WET

I'm happy to  continue the romantic, sizzling love story of Noah and Reagan from WET in the Love Revisited series.This sequel is under 7,000 words, so it's a quick read but worth your time, I promise! I have Jimmy Thomas autographed covers, 3 t-shirts with this spectacular covers, bookmarks, and of course a book to give away. The contest question is at the end of this post. I can't wait to hear from you.

So, what is Love Revisited – WET about?

Noah and Reagan Landry lost their happily-ever-after once before and Noah's father is determined to keep them apart. This time, Reagan shows her intimidating ex-father-in-law exactly what she's made of.

After trying a case in England for weeks, Noah hopes for a happy reunion with his family. When he learns of Reagan's struggles, he rewards her by surrendering to her what he treasures most.

(Content alert: bondage - have I got your attention? I should. It's smoking hot.)

Need an excerpt? I can do that.

Noah was hanging up his uniform when Reggie came into the bedroom. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she shut the bedroom door behind her. After his shower, he'd been doing mundane tasks for a half hour, killing time until the kids were asleep. The soft click of the lock sent a shiver of excitement straight to his balls.

"Finally," Reagan said in a soft voice. She walked to him with deliberate steps and took the shirt out of his hands.

The fabric skimmed his bare leg as it fell to the floor, forgotten, and he took Reagan in his arms. Their lips met in a smoking-hot kiss that spoke of his repressed passion. His tongue surged against hers, and when the kiss ended, his teeth tugged her lips, leaving them looking kiss-drenched.

"I missed you so much, Reggie." His voice sounded hoarse, almost forced.

A gentle smile lifted her lips and made her eyes shine. "And I missed you, but let's talk later. We don't have more than a few hours—if we're lucky."

Noah unzipped her dress and used his thumbs to slide the soft fabric from her shoulders. His lips followed, kissing the satin skin on the slope of her neck. She moved her head, giving him access. When he suckled her earlobe, she tugged at his shirt, and a breathy sigh left her.

She stepped out of the dress pooled around her ankles.

Admiring her curves in her burgundy bra and panties, Noah thought she'd never looked sexier.

"Something is different about you. You've changed." Trailing his fingers down her arms made her nipples swell beneath her bra. "Your skin is glowing." Gazing into her eyes, he said, "You are glowing."

"I'm happy, deliriously happy to have survived our months apart, and you're home. Take me to bed."

He unbuttoned his shirt. Her gaze followed his every move. With the buttons undone, she helped him shed the garment and tossed it aside, leaving him wearing only his shorts. Her hand in his, Noah paused. He'd been thinking about making love with Reggie for weeks. He'd imagined dozens of scenarios and techniques, all with the same fantastic, spine-shattering outcome. She excited him like no other woman, and after everything she'd endured while he was gone, he wanted to prove their relationship had matured.

Their eyes met. "I'd like to do something different."

And here is how it all began!

Noah and Reagan may be divorced but their passion is far from over. For the sake of their children, they end up living together until the Navy determines Noah's next assignment. When the rain falls one night, they get wet in more ways than one.

(content alert M/F erotic, bondage, anal play)

Straddling her on the chair, with his glorious erection dancing just out of reach of her lips, he asked, "Is this what you really want?"

Her eyes remained fastened on the prize a few inches from her face. "Yes, it's been so long since—"

Noah stroked his shaft until a generous drop of pre-cum seeped out of the head. Then he dipped his fingers in the pool between her thighs and thoroughly lubricated his cock with her juices. His smooth flesh glistened as he pressed his shaft between her breasts. "Watch me," he said, motioning toward the mirror.

His corded thighs and ass mesmerized her. One muscle after another rippled while he controlled her pleasure. Her gaze locked with Noah's in the mirror.

"Keep looking," he said.

Reagan whimpered when he knelt between her knees. Straining against her silk bonds, she raised herself up, needing Noah to quench the inferno billowing inside her. "Make me come or I'm gonna scream."

"We can't have you waking the children and ruining your—"

Reagan gasped when his mouth finished the sentence in a different way. Gripping her ass, Noah raised her off the chair and buried his face in her pussy. His tongue probed and glanced off her clit with firm, stabbing motions. Her orgasm built to an explosive level, and every muscle in Reagan's body tensed, tightened, and focused on release. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears. His finger moved in rhythm to his tongue and then his digit moved lower.

"Oh god. Yeah, like that."

She held her breath as he lubed her ass and his finger pressed in.

"Now, now, now," she said. "All of it. I need it."

The friction of his finger and tongue on her hypersensitive nerve endings created sweet insanity. "Faster . . . your tongue, your finger." In the next instant, she bucked against his face and his hand, caught up in powerful waves of sexual release. Perspiration covered her and her head thrashed side to side as Noah continued stroking inside her ass and sucking her pussy. When Reagan finally caught her breath and opened her eyes, a temptress smiled back at her in the mirror.

WHEW!!!! That's WET and Love Revisited: WET. 

So, if you're anxious to win some fantastic prizes, here we go: Noble Romance surprised me with 3 t-shirts to give away! They are size Large - no arguing or negotiating on the size or the quantity! LOL 
I'm adding 3 cover flats autographed by the cover model, Jimmy Thomas and I and these winners will also get an autographed bookmark from me.
Finally, one lucky winner will get a free ebook copy of Love Revisited-WET. 

Holy cats!  

So, here's the contest question. If you were on the streets of Paris, alone and looking for love describe your soul mate. Tell me about the person you could spend a lifetime with and why.

You must leave your e-mail address with your reply so we can contact winners.

Thank you for sharing my fun release with you! I look forward to your answers.

Margie Church

You can reach me at margie_church@yahoo.com

My website and blog: Romance with SASS

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/MargaretRChurch

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MargieChurch

LinkedIn:

It's All Happening!

What a busy month- winter is flying by, and I yearn for spring. My blog tour is going smashingly. This weekend, I'm the featured guest blogger at Fantasy Unbound, Rachel Haimowitz's Author Blog. Thanks for hosting me, Rachel! I'll be giving away a copy of my book, Her Captive Muse, to one lucky winner. You can also win a chance to have Rachel critique your story! Visit her site here for further details!

Getting excited for the Noble Authors' Blog Tour- I'm lining up some amazing guests for April! Get more details on Indigo Skye: Ink and Art! This weekend, as a treat for readers, I'm interviewing Madeline Elayne on my blog. I'm also posting an exclusive excerpt from Her Captive Muse on my Erotica Page- click here to read Chapter 1, if you haven't already...then continue on to Chapter 2, an Indigo Skye: Ink and Art Exclusive!

Blowing Kisses... Until Next Time!

I'll Be Back

March 27th

With Another Fabulous Guest Blog to Titillate
And Delight!

Giveaway to Celebrate My Book Release!

Hello All! I am celebrating the release of my first novel, Her Captive Muse, with a giveaway. Want to win a free copy of my ebook and a $25 gift card to Eden Fantasys? Just answer this question in an email...
"What's the most unusual place you've ever had sex?" and send it to indigoskyeinkandart@gmail.com before Valentine's Day. I'll be announcing the winners on my blog and the Noble Authors' Blog on V-Day!

-Indigo Skye