Sunday, 30 December 2012

Sex appeal

"Sex appeal is 50% what you've got and 50% what people think you've got."

Sophia Loren

Monday, 24 December 2012

Merry Christmas!

'Tis the season to reflect and review, methinks.  So I'm taking a short break from the blogosphere to recharge my batteries.

There will be some great guest posts in 2013 from erotica luminaries such as KD Grace, Janine Ashbless, Kay Jaybee and Maxim Jakubowski.  Watch this space!!  I shall also undertake my first ever blog tour.....Bring it on!

Merry Christmas - and may your Santa be sexy!

Sunday, 23 December 2012

Read my Lips

Something to look forward to.  
In February 2013 my short story Read my Lips is in the print anthology by Xcite called Pleasure Me.  Pre-orders being taken.  Here is the link:

The book features twenty different tales by celebrated erotica authors, including Kaye Jaybee and Penelope Friday, which reveal the explicit exploits of those who devote themselves to enjoying sex to the full. From wicked wives putting on a show for their lusty husbands, to sex in the great outdoors, intimate seductions, wild one-night stands and kinky games of dominance and submission, you ll find stories here to tease and please you.

My oral/BDSM story, Read my Lips is drawn from personal experiences and there is an extract below...

I had prepared exactly as agreed – showered and wearing those knee-length tightly fitting boots with uber sharp stiletto heels.  Nothing else.  Not even jewellery or hair clips.  He had been very specific. Precision was part of the turn-on.
I had already unlocked the door, left it slightly ajar.  When my phone trilled its familiar fanfare to herald the arrival of a text, I nearly jumped out of my skin.  Squinting in the half light (having taken off my glasses for vanity’s sake) I read the illuminated words:
‘On way now.’
So, this was really happening.    
I began to have my doubts.  After all, I’d only met the guy once.  What if he had told his mates and set me up for a joke?  Who knows who might come through the front door – maybe with a camera?  I nervously dismissed this idea, which was too awful to contemplate, imagining Facebook shame.........Glancing up at the ticking clock, I realised I was trembling.  Five minutes to go now.  Would he seriously go through with it?  Would I?

Saturday, 22 December 2012

Elizabeth Cage is on Goodreads (finally!)

Just a little note to say I have finally (and it has taken hours) set up an author and reader profile on Goodreads.  I still haven't figured how to add all the anthologies I'm in so have just listed my kindle books so far. Do check me out and see what I am reading, and if you feel like rating one of my books then here is the link.  Or click on the widget on the left side bar.  Cheers!

Friday, 21 December 2012

Reindeer Games: Cupid by Lucy Felthouse

I thought readers might enjoy a seasonal offering today, so in the spirit of Christmas, I'm handing over the post to Lucy Felthouse and her latest naughty tale.....

Reindeer Games: Cupid by Lucy Felthouse
As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.
One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.
Has Cupid finally met his match?
Chapter One
Cassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.
Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.
He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.
He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.
Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.
Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.
He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.
The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.
The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.
As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.
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, Decadent Publishing, Ellora's Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Secret Cravings Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:

Wednesday, 19 December 2012

The scandalous Miss Glory Pearl

The wonderful Miss Glory Pearl, who I have the good fortune of working with on the Wanton Words shows, has kindly agreed to write a future guest post for my blog on her favourite erotic reads.  Watch this space! In the meantime, check out her great article for Burlexe as she goes behind the scenes of Ivy Paige's new show Scandalous, in which she plays Violet. 

Preparing Violet’s character was really pleasurable and allowed me to revisit the territory of my Master’s degree, (in Eighteenth-Century English Literature). Violet has aspects of Moll Flanders, a bit of Fanny Hill and some of Hogarth’s Moll Hackabout.... 

To read the full article go to the link below:


The next show is on 30th December at the 
Leicester Square Theatre in London.

Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Lucy Felthouse Blog Tour: A Taste of London

Enjoy the latest blog tour from the wonderful Lucy Felthouse....

A Taste of London by Lucy Felthouse

Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst are heading off on the trip of a lifetime. They’re spending their gap year traveling the world and expect lots of sun, sights and sex. The guys have a couple of days in the English capital before catching the Eurostar to Paris. Unfortunately, a family emergency means that Kristian has to head back home for a while, leaving Ryan to continue the trip alone.
Luckily for Ryan, he’s an attractive guy and there is no shortage of gorgeous women available to help take his mind off Kristian’s family drama.
Chapter One
“Come on, mate, let’s go and grab our travel passes from the machine,” Ryan said, his familiarity with the locale apparent by the way he marched along the train platform toward the heart of St. Pancras Station.
“What? Uh – okay.” Kristian re-arranged his bag on his shoulder and scurried to keep up with his friend.
Bypassing the huge line of impatient, muttering people queuing for the manned booths, Ryan headed to one of the ticket machines. By the time Kristian caught up, Ryan already had a travel pass in his hand.
“So, um, what do I need to buy then, mate? I’m not as au fait with all this as you.”
“Been practising your French for the trip, Kris?” Ryan punched his friend on the arm playfully. “No worries. We’re only taking one trip tonight so you just need a single to London Bridge on the Tube.”
“All right,” Kristian replied, carefully tapping the relevant areas of the touch screen, feeding his money into the machine and triumphantly retrieving his ticket.
“Okay, I’m ready to go!”
“Come on then.” Ryan hoisted his bag back onto his shoulder and walked in the direction of the Underground, with Kristian close behind.
“Hey,” Kristian said, pointing as they passed a map of the Underground, “don’t you need to check where we’re going?”
“Nope,” Ryan said, without breaking stride, “I know London pretty well, plus I double checked all this stuff when I organised this part of the trip. What can I say, it’s the Boy Scout in me.”
“Cool. I guess it makes things easier when you’re not checking a map every two minutes. So how long will it take us to get to London Bridge station from here?”
They stepped onto the escalator. Rather than standing still and letting the moving staircase do its thing, Ryan continued to walk, eager now to get this leg of traveling over and done with so he could have some fun. It had been a long day, or at least it felt like one. They’d actually only traveled around one hundred and fifty miles from the outskirts of the Peak District to the centre of London, a couple of hours on the train, but it had felt like longer. Perhaps because he’d been so eager to actually get to London and start their adventure.
“Not long mate. Probably about ten minutes. It’s a direct journey and at this time of day it shouldn’t be too busy. We can dump our stuff at the hostel then have some drinks next door.”
“There’s a pub next door? No wonder I let you sort out this trip. You’re a fucking genius!”
By now, they’d reached the bottom of the escalator. Ryan stepped off, then turned to face his friend. Tapping his head, he grinned and said, “It’s not just a hat rack, mate.”
Kristian laughed. “You’re right there.” He paused. “It’s a fucking chick magnet, too!”
Ryan frowned, looking genuinely confused. “It is?” Then he shook himself and smiled. “I wish someone had told me!”
“Are you kidding, mate? Everywhere we go, women are checking you out.” Kristian grinned. “Why do you think I agreed to go traveling with you? I’m hoping some of your apparent sex appeal will rub off on me and get me some action!”
Ryan laughed, then started walking towards the southbound platform for their connection to London Bridge. “So that’s your ulterior motive, eh? Never mind being my best mate, or seeing the world, you just wanna get laid?”
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, Decadent Publishing, Ellora's Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Secret Cravings Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. 

Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:

You might also like this post by Lucy

Monday, 17 December 2012

E-book Cover Design Awards

Joel Friedlander, on his excellent site The Book Designer, runs monthly e-book cover design awards and I entered the covers for both Love Bites and Second Helpings.  I was delighted to get some really positive feedback from Joel and you can see this below. 

Check out the link to all the entries - there are always some fantastic designs included, a really diverse selection.

Elizabeth Cage submitted Love Bites designed by Klaus Hartleben. “I wanted to keep the food imagery of my first book in the series (Second Helpings) and for the typeface to help “brand” the titles in the series. It was great to work with a professional designer.”

Love Bites
JF: Wow. Okay, focus: yep. Clarity, sure. Economy, mood, yes to all of those. Well suited to the ebook environment, it’s a winner.

Elizabeth Cage submitted Second Helpings designed by Klaus Hartleben. “I wanted a simple, clean design for this collection of erotic stories. I’ve had very positive feedback from readers about the design and of the 3 erotic collections, this one sells the best, and I’m sure the cover has helped with this.”

Second Helpings
JF: See also Love Bites above. This one matches well and may have more tongue than I’ve ever seen on a book cover. Who knew tongue would sell so well?

Sunday, 16 December 2012

Kacey Hammell Blog Tour: A Ghost for Christmas

As the festive season comes upon us, so to speak, I am delighted to be a host on the blog tour for the new Christmas tale from Kacey Hammell.  Read on..... 

After receiving a long weekend at an elegant hotel beside the majestic Niagara Falls as a Christmas gift, Jodie Gibson is determined to do nothing but relax and enjoy the scenery. And, okay, just maybe meet someone who makes her toes curl.

Sebastian is sophisticated, tall, dark and gorgeous--everything a woman fantasizes about. But he's also an 18th century ghost. He haunts the halls of the hotel, seeking the one true love that can help him find peace… 

 Excerpt © Kacey Hammell

As she peered into the reflective glass, a face appeared behind her. Jodie whipped around and fell back against the window.
Oh my fucking God!
Before her, in what looked like a shimmering bubble, stood the most breathtakingly beautiful man she’d ever seen. Dressed in a white shirt and black pants, he had dark unruly hair and striking, magnetic blue eyes that held her in place.
Jodie blinked, uncertain, scared and breathless.
How was it possible? She’d read the newspaper clippings, yes, but it was unimaginable to think ghosts might actually walk among the living.
Not everything made sense. She only believed in things that could actually be seen, felt and touched. This seemed surreal.
Stunned by the apparition before her, dressed in what looked like centuries-old clothes straight out of Esquire, he seemed to look straight through her, and his smile warmed her clear to her toes. Lord, she was in trouble.
“Hello.” Soft and gravelly, his voice alone seduced her…all the way to her toes. Her body quivered and her center tightened.
Whoa. What the hell am I thinking?  There’s a ghost in front of me and I’m ready to jump his bones. Not bloody likely.
“What are you doing here? Get out.  I don’t care who you are, you’re leaving, right now.”
He frowned. “No need to be frightened.  I’ve been here for centuries.”
Jodie laughed, and not one to wilt like a scared little girl, stood tall. “This is all a joke.” She looked around, up and down, and all over the room. “Are there hidden cameras somewhere?  Hey, Ashton, if you’re behind the camera, you can come out now.  I’ve been Punk’d good. Thanks and all, but I’d like to get on with my evening without you.”
 “Who is this Ashton? What is a punk?  A rake, perhaps?” he asked.
Jodie squinted.  “A rake?”  She hadn’t ever heard that term spoken, but had read it in historical romances. No one talked like that these days. “No. Never mind, it’s not important. Listen, I just want you to go. I want to enjoy my evening.”
His smile was gentle. “I’m sorry, my dear, but this evening every decade is the only time I am visible to the human eye. I never miss a chance to watch the Falls.”
Every decade…
“You’re telling me you do this every ten years? How old are you?”
“I was born in 1781. That makes me—”
“Two hundred thirty-one,” Jodie whispered, legs weak. She grabbed the back of the chair nearby and sat down. Were such things even possible?
An eighteenth century ghost stood before her.
Merry Christmas to me.

A Ghost for Christmas
Kacey Hammell
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Genre: Paranormal Erotic Romance
Release Date: December 6th
ISBN# 978-1-77130-211-1

Available at…

Readers can learn more about Kacey’s books/contact her via …

Saturday, 15 December 2012

Nice Work

The lovely Chantel C has kindly mentioned one of my stories in Xcite anthology Eve's Big Bang on her blog.

I enjoyed Elizabeth’s story,Nice Work, the most because there’s something about a woman who can take charge and get what she wants.

Go to to read the post.

Thanks, Chantel!

Friday, 14 December 2012

Zara Stoneley Guest Post: Good Enough to Share

Jolly pleased to have Zara Stoneley here again today - find out more about her hot new book.

GOOD ENOUGH TO SHARE (Good Enough, Book 1 – Christmas) is an erotic contemporary romance, including menage, F/M/F, M/F/M and sex outdoors.

One Christmas, four friends – but will they still be together by New Year?

Divorce wasn’t part of the plan for Holly, but then again nor was spending the festive period with two sexy men and Santa’s little helper! With a disastrous marriage behind her, and three good friends who are willing to share, moving on could be fun – if only she can accept that sometimes her heart is wiser than her head.

Dane doesn’t do commitment, which suits Holly just fine. But when things heat up between the four friends, he’s forced to face up to his past. Will realising he’s good enough mean he no longer wants to share…?

Laid back Charlie knows that if his best friend becomes his lover he could end up losing big time. But can he resist? And when the girl he once loved comes back, who will he decide to spend the New Year with?

…And Sophie just wants to have fun. She’s got the answers to everyone's problems, except her own …. is she the one who needs good friends most of all?

Will a caring, sharing, lust and love filled Christmas lead to the happy ever after they all desire?

WARNING - Christmas may never seem the same again!


 “You two out on the pull then?” You know how some deep male voices have that perfect resonance to vibrate right down to the bottom of your stomach and beyond? Yeah, that. I was blushing from the inside out and I had completely and utterly forgotten about Charlie, with or without a surfboard.
Christ, why was it that every time Dane Stephens popped up I was dressed in something that either said ‘shag me, I’m a complete tart’ or ‘I’m a complete saddo’? Or in this case a mixture of both. The fact that Sophie and I were propping up the bar, both with a goblet of wine in hand each didn’t help with the image much either.
“We’ve been working.” I tried to keep my face straight and stop my nipples making a break for freedom as the gorgeous guy who seemed to feature in every one of my current run of dirty dreams rested his hand on my shoulder and sent a warm thrill straight between my thighs. Along with a very strong urge to grab hold of him and give him the type of kiss that would leave a lasting impression. Gee, life would be so much easier if that kind of full frontal attack was one of my special skills. It wasn’t. Best mates with a bit of flirting thrown in as a side order was a better description of my capabilities.
I’d been having dirty dreams about Dane for as long as I can remember. Well, probably since the first time all six foot something of him had swaggered into this bar and given me the type of smile that gave me an almost, emphasis on almost here, uncontrollable urge to strip every last inch of his clothing off in slow motion. But I hadn’t, because nice girls don’t, do they?
“Been out hammering shoes on?” I tweaked a bit of straw out of his thick dark hair and resisted the urge to tangle my fingers in deeper, just in case I’d missed a bit. And then rub a hand over that broad, strong chest just for good measure. He was buff underneath that shirt, I just knew it. Well, I did actually. I’d seen him strip to the waist the odd time at the tail end of the summer when we’d actually seen a bit of that golden orb in the sky they call the sun, and he’d built up a sweat manhandling horses. And along with every other girl on the yard I’d gone weak-kneed and tried not to stare as I’d watched his muscles ripple and a trickle of sweat bead its way down his back. A bead of sweat that needed licking off.
I’d had a thing about cowboys, well, since I was fifteen when my boy friend, as in two separate words, had dragged me along to watch a western in the local cinema. His idea had been to get his tongue down my throat, but he’d faded into insignificance when the hero of the piece had got off his horse. This had been no normal cowboy, he’d been naked down to the low slung jeans that barely scraped his hips and when he’d slipped one hand under the waistband, just as he tugged the girl in for a kiss the rush of dampness to my knickers had shocked me. And left me squirming, and meant that the boy friend got an end of show, tongue twisting snog that shocked me more than as it did him.
And as I grew up I realized men like that just didn’t exist. I just never met a man who’d had the same effect on me, not even the man I’d married had done that. Until Dane had walked in four long months ago and been the nearest thing to a cowboy that the English counties had to offer. He’d probably never had a Stetson on his head, or a rifle in his hand, but I bet he’d look good on a horse and even if he didn’t, in my mind it just didn’t matter. Dane was just hot, and made me hot, and wet.
His jeans were slung just the same, so I just knew I’d be able to see his hip bones if I unbuttoned that thick cotton shirt. And boy did I want to, and I was just itching to slip my own hand tight in there. I just needed an excuse and September through December had left me too tongue-tied to find one. Even if my horse seemed to be throwing a shoe on a weekly basis and he’d been out an embarrassing number of times.
“Yeah, lots of thrown shoes, darling, you know ‘tis the season.” He winked and my mouth watered. Literally. Much more and I’d be drooling, a drooling elf who would have thought? Bugger, I really did need a plan or I’d be spending another Christmas morning just wishing I’d asked Santa for the type of toy box that had long life batteries and lube in it. But was quiet enough not to disturb Charlie.
 “Hi Dane, boy. We—” Sophie was practically licking her lips, he had that effect on every female old enough to have hormones, as she drew herself up to her full five-foot one and a half inches and put a hand on his arm “—have been doing our good Samaritan bit.” She knew him? I didn’t know which bit made the feeling of empty spread in my stomach, the fact that she knew him, or she knew him. Because from the way she was grinning in a slightly flirty, slightly too cosy way meant she definitely knew him. Every bit of him.
To read a longer excerpt visit Zara's blog at

Sunday, 9 December 2012

David Russell Guest Post: Sexy Stories - Fiction that turns me on

Today my guest post is from David Russell, who has kindly contributed to my series, Sexy stories: Fiction that turns me on. David's blog is and he describes himself as "a UK-based romance writer; all my stories have a distinctly British feel."  
Product Details
Over to you, David.....

Occasionally I can switch off my inner writer when I read; not often, as I am always on the lookout for stimuli and kindred spirits.

I like the erotic stories of Anais Nin, particularly those in the collection Delta of Venus. She is my favourite because she can sustain literary delicacy whilst being quite outspoken about erotic themes, without ever being crudely explicit. 

As regards male writers in this genre, I was particularly turned on by the opening of Paul Metcalf's Will West, although I do not care for the entire story. Akin to Anais Nin, it modulates narrative and interior monologue, poetry and prose. I identify with all aspects; the sparse vegetation on the beach, the wordless, fateful bonding of two beautiful people; the way they hold each other, the way the girl runs to the dunes. The following is my favourite extract, so full of suspense:

"Climbing to one of the higher points, they found a shady hollow directly behind it, and they jumped and skidded into the lowest part. Sitting down, facing oppositely, their hips touching, they swung their upper bodies in front of each other, and embraced hotly. There was no wind, and the sun was relentless.

Through grasses, snarling
the earth, and

Comes a murmur,
a murmur of wind

sweat and sea air

Separating, rising, they stood back from each other. Will's trunks, and the two pieces of the girl's white bathing suit, fell to the sand. For a moment they faced each other, naked in the hot sun and dampness."

Lovely; so poetic!

I probably have a clothing fetish; I love undressing scenes - another area in which Anais Nin also excels. Further thoughts about this in the following link:
28 Jan 2011 – Below are some tips from the writer and artist David Russell about the play of undressing for love. They've given me some ideas for my own ...

David's story Therapy Rapture, formerly with Rose Dog Books, will shortly be republished by Devine Destinies; reviews of the earlier edition are online.

Related posts:

Wednesday, 5 December 2012

Editing and deadlines

Tied up (so to speak) with deadlines and editing this week but some wonderful guest posts to look forward to very soon....

Sunday, 2 December 2012

Great Balls of Fire!

Two words to describe the fabulous Wanton Words and Burlesque Bombshells show last night at the Tom Thumb Theatre - SUCH FUN!

I loved reading my story Nice Work, the audience was lovely and I even drew out the raffle tickets and handed out cards for our saucy xmas card contest!  I'm usually a bit shy so it was good to come out of my comfort zone and I really enjoyed it.  

The shows are proving so successful that we will be doing another 6 next year.  Thanks to the lovely Miss Glory Pearl, Missy Maybe, Professor Pinchquim and the amazing Trixi Tassels and her flaming nipples!  Great balls of fire!

Thursday, 29 November 2012

Nice Work and Wanton Words

Eve's Big Bang - a collection of five erotic stories
On a hot summer day, two strangers on a train share an unexpected brief horny encounter. The journey to the office will never be the same again. When Adrian walks away he can’t get the cool sexy redhead out of his mind but he’s already late for work and it’s the first day in his new job. He has to make a good impression. But fate has a wicked sense of humour and when Adrian meets Alice once more he soon discovers she has plans for him that far exceed his wildest fantasies.

She was leaning forward, a hint of cleavage on show. She had scribbled a note which she gestured for him to take.  Hands shaking, he took it, his fingers brushing her red painted nails.  Reading the words written clearly before him, his eyes widened in disbelief. He looked up at her again, his expression questioning.  She nodded. Glancing once more at the handwritten note, he removed his suit jacket and carefully laid it across his knees. Then, hands shaking, he slipped them beneath the cover of the jacket and unzipped his flies, grasping his already hard cock which was begging for relief.  It felt strange, illicit and very exciting.

This extract is from my story, Nice Work, which appears in e-book Eve's Big Bang published by Xcite.
I will be reading it at the next Wanton Words and Burlesque Bombshells show at 8pm Saturday December 1st at the Tom Thumb Theatre in Cliftonville.  Come and join us for an evening of saucy fun!

And if you can't come this time, then why not visit Amazon and check out Eve's Big Bang, which contains 5 sizzling stories by top erotic authors.


Tuesday, 27 November 2012

Guest post: Zara Stoneley and Riding High

Today's guest post is from writer Zara Stoneley.  I love the book cover of Riding High.....Over to you, Zara.

Hi Elizabeth, Thanks for having me here!    

They say you can choose your friends but not your family… and there is a lot in this book about families, and how the actions of our parents can affect the way we live and the decisions we make.

I’ve always been very interested in the nature versus nurture debate – does who we are (genetically), or how we are brought up have the greatest influence on us? My personal feeling is that both play a part, and the balance depends on a lot of factors such as our friends, associates and the major events that happen in our lives.

In ‘Riding High’ Saul and Roisin have both been affected, in different ways, by their backgrounds. They have issues to confront, and unless they do their relationship won’t be going anywhere. 

I guess my message is that you can’t run away from who you are - all you can do is learn and adapt, and take responsibility for your own actions. And at the end of the day, whatever our family does, we still (usually), deep down inside ourselves love them and want everything to work out right.

Riding High

 ‘Have wild crazy monkey sex with the first man you bump into.’ Roisin Grant hadn’t intended to follow her best friend’s advice – but, sometimes, what you expect from life and what you get don’t match up. She never expected her husband would have a stash of home-made porn movies, with him in the starring role, or that he would die and leave her bankrupt. And she never expected to be faced with asset-stripper Saul Mathews and a choice. Walk away from her home and equestrian business, or call his bluff and help him deliver riding lessons of an altogether different kind.

An erotic novel with mixed themes including m/f, menage, sex in public and voyeurism.

Excerpt from Riding High

She was glaring, her whole body tensed for a fight, but he knew she believed him deep down. She knew. ‘And what was last night about, then? A time-filler, or does it turn you on shagging the person you’re just about to –’ she paused ‘– shaft in another way?’

‘Phew, that’s below the belt. That’s not fair, and you know it.’

‘Do I? What do I know, Saul? It seems like you’re the one with all the answers.’

‘Last night was just – it just happened, but believe me if I’d known who you were I would never have even stopped for a drink. It was just bad timing, or good timing if you like.’ He could feel the corner of his mouth tip and suddenly she looked like she might hit him.

‘Oh fuck off.’ She flicked the horse’s reins over its head and it shied away, almost bumping into him. Which he couldn’t blame her for.

‘Look, I’m really sorry about this, but I’m not sorry about last night.’ He stepped up closer, met her glare, because it seemed important that she believed him. Last night hadn’t been about business. Last night had been – something else.

‘Stop saying you’re bloody sorry, unless it’s going to change anything.’

‘It’s not going to change anything.’

Her eyes were bright and she was gnawing at her lip, but not in the “come and shag” me manner of last night. Which made him feel a shit. Again. ‘Look, I’ll go through the documents with you. That’s why I’m here. And if you can come up with some kind of proposal to pay a proper rent on the place then I’ll listen.’

‘I need to sort my horse.’ She flicked behind the horse with the whip; it stepped forward automatically, brushing past him, leaving a fine coating of sweat-covered hair on his arm. Fine, so she was spoiling for a fight. But he didn’t want to fight. Not this time.

He followed slowly behind as she walked toward the stables, studying the property on auto-pilot. Assessing was something that was second nature to him, even if now it didn’t seem right. When he’d pulled into the yard he’d only had time for a quick look round, taking in the tidy but tired air of the place, the look that said it would cost a fortune to update. He grimaced; there was a good-sized house, which he was sure would be in a state, but there were plenty of people around with money who wanted the genuine article, a country estate. Chic, not shabby. The riding stables didn’t have much going for it as a business proposition, but the property, the land, did. Which was why he’d bought it. At a knockdown price that he’d thought had meant he couldn’t go wrong.

His gaze drifted back to the pert bum and he had a horrible feeling that something, or someone, was about to screw up his plans.

Available from - Xcite BooksAmazon (UK)Amazon (US)

About the author
Zara is a writer and lover of all things romantic, from the sensual to the sexual, who knows that naughty can be nice. She lives in the UK, but whenever she can she heads off in search of some sunshine and inspiration for her stories.

She love sexy high heels...good food....good (lots and lots of coffee)... and Italy. All things Italian from the countryside to the culture, the wine to the food...and of course the sexy men.

She's been a consultant, a teacher, a mother, a wife, a lover... and has always been a writer and she'd love to hear from you.

Where you can find her-
Twitter:  @ZaraStoneley
Email –

Monday, 26 November 2012


Apologies for absence of blog posts but I am frantically trying to complete a writing deadline....there will be an exciting guest post later this week from Zara Stoneley and then posts should return to a kind of normality....

Friday, 23 November 2012

Public readings of erotica

Following on from yesterday’s post about hearing erotic stories read aloud reminded me that I’m reading at an event shortly.  I have a love-hate relationship with this process, finding the experience both nerve-wracking and liberating at the same time.  It is so different to giving a private reading and when you are confronted with an audience in a public space, you never quite know how they will respond.   Of course, you can’t please all the people, as the saying goes, and it’s always tricky to decide what to read.  It has to be new, as you may have some of the same people in the audience as at a previous reading.  The story or extract shouldn’t be too long, because you don’t want your audience to lose interest and become bored.

Stories with humour seem to work best, I’ve found, and with realistic characters and dialogue.  Some readers have commented that they can often identify with the people in my stories, and recognise characters and situations, which is a lovely compliment.  Most of what I write is inspired by actual events and personal experiences. 

I’d love to hear from other writers who give readings – have you had any enlightening, amusing (or not so funny) experiences of reading in public?

Thursday, 22 November 2012

Aural sex

Already writers are forging new earning pathways, selling advertising space on their websites, and selling writing courses, advice and other services. The internet simply provides a bigger shop window in which to operate.  The products themselves are not new. 

What is new is the way that technological change brings the mechanism for e-books to become interactive experiences, by adding photos, video clips, sound and music, so they are no longer pure text.

I’m just visualising an interactive version of 50 Shades… or would that simply be a romantic soft porn film? 
Of course, when you see something on a screen, it can diminish the picture we have created in our heads of the story we are reading.  Our imagination can often be many times more erotic than someone else’s construction of how the characters look and speak.

For me, hearing the right, sexy voice read a story aloud, (but via a machine and perhaps with added sound effects), while I lie with my eyes closed in a darkened room or a scented bath, can enhance the experience. A kind of kinky Radio 4.  Hmmmm……….

Maybe that would be a great new product for writers – offering a service to read a story down the phone line at a pre-arranged time to clients.  It would have more immediacy and intimacy than an audio tape.

What do you think?

Sunday, 18 November 2012

Bel Anderson Guest Post: Sexy Stories

I'm delighted that today's guest post is from erotica writer Bel Anderson...

I started writing erotica this year after a couple of years of having short stories published in women's magazines. I had no idea that there was such a market for erotica and so many publishers! A friend of mine commented recently that she's surprised I didn't do it years ago as I was always the one who had to explain smutty jokes to the rest of my circle of friends at school... That's probably what you get from being allowed (encouraged) to read Jackie Collins and Jilly Cooper from a young age! (Thanks, Mum!)

I have discovered that I absolutely love writing erotica. It's so liberating to be able to write what I like without dampening down the heat or resorting to painful euphemisms. I find that most of the time I'm grinning away while I'm writing! 
As far as having a favourite erotic story goes, strictly speaking I don't have one, although I've really enjoyed a lot of the short stories I've read so far. I find it a challenge to just sit back and enjoy what I'm reading if it's a genre I write - I almost feel I should be taking notes!

Jane EyreMost of the books I find erotic aren't strictly erotica at all. In fact, at the mention of the word 'erotic', the first book I think of is Jane Eyre. I've been mulling this over a lot since Elizabeth invited me to do this post, and what I find immensely erotic is Edward Rochester's desire for Jane. He knows he shouldn't marry her, but he also knows it's the only way he's going to get her - and what he plainly wants is to crush her bird-like frame in his manly arms and ravish her.  (Oh, and what a ravishing it would be on his part - although she may be rather more reserved!) He wants her to stay with him even after their failed wedding and would take her as his lover if she'd allow it. There's so much smouldering passion beneath his heavy brow and he definitely has a need to dominate. If Jane wasn't such a good little girl and Charlotte Bronte hadn't been a good Victorian, the story could have been very different! Reading it as a young teen, I was disappointed (following my previous diet of Collins and Cooper) to have discovered so little about the moment they finally got it together. I wanted to know how it felt to be made love to by Mr Rochester. Ah well, I suppose that's what the imagination is for!
The erotica I've written so far has been published by Xcite Books and is available on Xcite's website and also on Amazon: 
At the moment I'm working on another erotic short and also on an erotic novella, so there's plenty to grin over the keyboard about!
Please pop across and visit my blog : .  It's a new blog and I haven't quite got to grips with it yet, but I'd love to 'meet' you!
Thanks so much for having me, Elizabeth!