Sunday, 29 July 2012

50 Shades of Love: The Secrets of Writing Erotica

Please come and join me and the fabulous writer Penelope Friday at Waterstones, Canterbury on Thursday September 13th.  We are giving a talk called 50 Shades of Love: The Secrets of Writing Erotica. For more details go to my events page or click on the  link below to get tickets.|WATERSTONE%27S%20CANTERBURY%20ST%20MAR&sFilter=1

Thursday, 26 July 2012

Turning the Tables

Gently, I lifted Penny into my arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.  When I had laid her on the bed, I hunted in the wardrobe and grabbed a fistful of assorted ties. Slowly, I removed Penny’s skirt and boots, while she lay, eyes half shut, still dreamy after her explosive orgasm.  I spread her legs and fastened her ankles to the bed.  Before removing her blouse, I covered her in butterfly kisses, starting at her fingers, then her elbows, her forearms and where the ties was digging into her wrists. I unfastened her, tenderly caressing the red lines left by her bonds, before pulling her arms wide and tying them to the headboard.  Naked and open wide, her black hair spread loosely over the pillow, she looked unbelievably sexy.

The extract is from Turning the Tables from my collection Kissing Velvet.  This short tale is one of the few written from a male viewpoint.  Mike is pushed to his limits by his argumentative but very horny girlfriend, who is used to taking charge.  But one day, he decides it’s time to turn the tables.  Fun to write, (and I still get turned on when I read it) I’m not sure where it came from.  I recognise traces of myself, albeit ten years younger (when I had a fantasy about having sex in a phone box in broad daylight), and aspects of previous lovers. 

And I still think Spanky is a great name for a cat….

Tuesday, 24 July 2012

Public Displays of Eroticism

Check out this sexy anthology......

Public Displays of Eroticism, featuring stories by Cassandra Carr, Jami Davenport and Cristal Ryder...
The secret fantasy, sex in a public place. Once couple's sexual antics at a local park inspires four other couples to bare it all in the open air. 

Back to Nature by Cassandra Carr
A sub and her Master play hooky to indulge their exhibitionism kink and unknowingly start an entire chain of events.

Hail Mari by Jami Davenport
Meeting Mari Simms for one night of hot sex each year for the past four years is no longer enough for Wyatt Bedford, a ten-year veteran of professional football. This time, he plans on telling her he wants more. While waiting for her in a park, he stumbles upon a sight that changes his game plan and takes their relationship to whole new level. Can Wyatt and Mari find love in the final quarter with the clock ticking?

Taking it Outside by Cristal Ryder
Val sets up an afternoon of play with long-time boyfriend Tyler at a secluded beach.  After packing a goodie bag with playthings, she leaves a note for Tyler. While waiting for his arrival, through binoculars Val spots lovers on the distance shore, and when Tyler arrives, together they watch the couple. Voyeurism at its best. Turned on by watching the couple have sex, Val and Ty have their own public display of eroticism.
Taking their loving outside is a surprisingly erotic treat neither expected to enjoy as much as they do. But a bigger surprise awaits them, leaving them wondering if there is more to come.
A Whole New World by Cassandra Carr
After witnessing some dirty deeds in the woods, Miranda finds she has some kinks she didn't know about and discovers her boyfriend, Ross, is more than happy to help her explore them.

In the Open by Jami Davenport
Once a year, Jaid Angelini takes a break from her demanding career as a criminal defense attorney for a night of passion with young, hot pro-football player Alex Greeley. Despite misgivings about their age difference, Jaid desires a more permanent relationship and concocts a scheme to brand her name on his heart. After witnessing an exhibitionist couple in the park, her plan takes a turn toward the great outdoors. Will Alex and Jaid finally go for the long bomb or settle for minimum yardage?

Excerpt from Back to Nature:
We make the short drive to the lake and park the car. Dmitri takes my hand as we stroll around the perimeter.
He soon pulls me out onto one of many scenic points overlooking the lake, and places me in front of him so we’re both facing the pristine, peaceful view. His erection nestles into my bottom as his hands steal underneath my shirt, kneading my breasts. Dmitri pulls the shirt up to expose me and I dart a quick glance around, wondering if the hikers at the other overlooks around the lake can see me. I lean my head back on his shoulder like I know he wants me to as he pinches and tweaks my nipples.
Turning me around, he grabs me and lifts me to his pelvis briefly before setting me back on my feet. He leans down and re-wets the front of my shirt as he sucks on my nipples again. I moan, grabbing Dmitri’s head. A twig snaps and I look around him to see another couple about fifty feet away. They avert their eyes and walk past the overlook. As the exhibitionist in me comes alive, I grin and Dmitri’s head moves to my other breast.

Where to find the authors:
Cassandra Carr:
Cristal Ryder:
Jami Davenport:

Wednesday, 18 July 2012

Wanton Words by the seaside

I'm giving a reading at the Tom Thumb Theatre in Cliftonville on August 4th with the fabulous burlesque performers Miss Glory Pearl and Miss Maybe.  Do come!


Alison and Anthony enjoy their S and M games in private.  Until Anthony unexpectedly introduces a third party to the proceedings.

‘Go upstairs and lay down on the bed.  Put on the blindfold that I’ve placed on the pillow.  Make sure you can’t see.  Then wait for me.’
Unquestioningly, Alison obeyed.  The bed, which was draped with a black rubber sheet, had steel manacles attached to each corner in readiness.  She picked up the velvet-lined blindfold and made sure it was fastened securely.  She remembered the last time she had failed to buckle it in the correct position and shuddered.  On that occasion, she had been severely punished...
            She lay back, engulfed in darkness, every fibre of her being awake and alert to the slightest sound, the slightest movement.  She heard footsteps on the stairs and her body tensed.  She waited for him to speak, longed to hear his voice, but she had to endure the silence while he attached the manacles to her slim wrists and ankles, so she was wide open.  She felt him reach by her head for one of the pillows, which he pushed beneath her to raise her hips further, making her all the more accessible. He ran a fingernail down between her breasts, lightly scraping the surface of her milk-white skin. She groaned. Gentle baroque music filtered into the room as he switched on the CD player that he always kept beside the bed.  Alison felt like she was floating as she lost herself in the sounds of lush strings and the feel of Anthony’s hands exploring her eager body.
‘You were right, she is lovely.’
Alison came back to earth with a jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar man’s voice.  Who the hell was that?

Whips and gags feature prominently in this story, Initiation,  from my collection, Kissing Velvet.  Some scenes are inspired by private parties I attended at some interesting venues with a dominant lover. We watched and we played.  

Fifty Shades of Grey

I’m interested in the phenomenon that is Fifty Shades of Grey and the million inches of column space it has generated (and sales!).  I’m also a little bemused.  Most of my female friends tell me it is a compelling read. 

I remember way back in the 1980s when a film called Nine and a Half Weeks was released and a certain amount of notoriety surrounded it.  I was studying for a degree at Sussex University at the time and wrote a thesis on the issues that the film raised and the ethics of censorship.  The film enraged many feminists who picketed outside the Duke of York’s cinema in Brighton where the film was to be shown.  The story, reportedly true, charted the brief but intense relationship between a young woman who allows herself to be dominated sexually by an enigmatic businessman, and she explores her submissive tendencies to her limits. A bit like Story of O, which is also a favourite (although the outcome is different).  This basic idea has been explored repeatedly in literature and isn’t new.  It’s a concept that is a massive turn on for many people – men and women.

I read Nine and a Half Weeks and enjoyed the direct, no-nonsense and almost clinical style.  It was a short book and a quick and, for me, sexy read.  I hated the film (directed by Adrian Lyne and starring the badly cast Kim Basinger and Mickey Rourke) which was a pale shadow of the book, ducking most of the SM aspects.  I was disappointed.   Undoubtedly there will be a Hollywood film version of Fifty Shades and it will be interesting to see who will direct and star – and whether  or not it will be true to the book.

I’ve only got as far as Chapter 2 of Fifty Shades so I don’t feel in a position to comment on it yet.  Watch this space....

Sunday, 15 July 2012

Counting to Ten

Sexy BDSM Stories - Volume Three - An Xcite Books Collection
My short story Counting to Ten is now available in the Xcite e-book Sexy BDSM Stories, Volume 3.
Interesting footnote to this - in my original story the relationship involves whipping rather than spanking, as in this version. 

Her master always makes her count when he spanks her, and during this latest punishment, she finds herself reminiscing how things have to come to this. When he first asked to strip in a public car park, she had resisted, but only for as long as it took her to realise she’d never been more turned on. Humiliation, pain, total surrender – who’d have thought all these things could bring so much pleasure?  

Friday, 13 July 2012

Off the Shelf – An Erotic Romance Novella – is FREE on Amazon!

Yes, you heard right! Lucy Felthouse's erotic romance novella, Off the Shelf, is FREE on Amazon for a limited time.
From 11th – 15th July ONLY, you will be able to download this hot erotic romance to your Kindle without spending a penny.
Already convinced? Grab it here:

Need more convincing? Here's more about the book:
At 35, travel writer Annalise is fed up with insensitive comments about being left on the shelf. It’s not as if she doesn’t want a man, but her busy career doesn’t leave her much time for relationships. Sexy liaisons with passing acquaintances give Annalise physical satisfaction, but she needs more than that. She wants a man who will satisfy her mind as well as her body. But where will she find someone like that? It seems Annalise may be in luck when a new member of staff starts working in the bookshop at the airport she regularly travels through. Damien appears to tick all the boxes; he’s gorgeous, funny and intelligent, and he shares Annalise’s love of books and travel. The trouble is, Damien’s shy and Annalise is terrified of rejection. Can they overcome their fears and admit their feelings, or are they doomed to remain on the shelf?
And a saucy excerpt to get you going...
Pushing the ‘on’ button, Annalise moved the vibrator down between her parted legs and eased it inside her eager pussy. As the ears of the Rampant Rabbit slid into position on her clit, she groaned with pleasure and rolled her hips, desperate to get more delicious friction. Then she pressed another button on the toy’s control panel to ramp up the power another notch. As much as she’d prefer a slower build-up to her orgasm, she just didn’t have the time. She had to leave for the airport in a couple of hours, and she hadn’t even packed her case. A quick knee-trembler would have to suffice.
As the vibrator buzzed away between her thighs, Annalise closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of anything but the pleasure she was experiencing. After a brief flirtation with the thought that she’d much prefer a hot man between her legs bringing her to orgasm, Annalise simply enjoyed the feeling of her impending climax. The busily-vibrating bunny ears pressed tightly against her sensitive flesh soon had her pussy fluttering. Then, without warning, Annalise was quickly yanked onto her pleasure plateau and immediately pushed off, leaving her writhing and shouting on the bed as a powerful orgasm overtook her body.
Annalise arched her back as waves of pleasure crashed over her, and her cunt clenched and grabbed at the toy buried deep inside. Her swollen clit throbbed, quickly becoming too sensitive for the unrelenting stimulation from the vibrator. Switching it off and pulling out, Annalise dropped the toy onto the mattress by her side and gave a satisfied moan as she rode out the remainder of her climax. Finally, when the twitches and spasms had abated and her heart rate and breathing were almost back to normal, Annalise grabbed the Rabbit and rolled across to the side of her bed where the toy box was kept. She made short but thorough work of cleaning it, then reluctantly put it in its case, popped it into the small bedside cupboard and shut the door.
Annalise hated leaving her favourite toy behind when she went away, but she just wasn’t brave enough to take it with her. She usually only took carry-on luggage, and the very thought of the distinctive shape of the Rampant Rabbit popping up on the screen of the airport scanners made her shudder. It would be bad enough for the staff to see it on their monitors, knowing what it was and giving her knowing looks; imagine what would happen if they decided to check inside her bags! She would want to curl up and die of embarrassment, she just knew it.
No, it was much better off staying here. She could make do with her right hand for a few days. Even better, she might even meet someone. Annalise smiled. She’d had some pretty steamy encounters on her travels. The desk clerk in Dubai, the gym manager in Turkey, the waiter in Corfu…
Annalise shook herself. This wasn’t the time to let her mind wander down that path and get herself all worked up. She had to go and get ready now. There’d be plenty of time for daydreaming later, when she was in long and boring queues, and on the flight.
So go on, what are you waiting for? Bag your copy quick, while it's FREE! And if you like it, be sure to leave a review for others to read.
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, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse 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, 11 July 2012

Mind your language

I've just written a guest post for the wonderful Erotica for All website on the subject of using sexual swear words in erotica.  An extract is below.  I'd love to know what other writers and readers think about this.

.....I’ve always been fascinated by language, the fact that some words are banned, or frowned upon, yet it is the context they are used in, surely, that can create disharmony?  And who decides which words are good or bad?  How do you define a swear word?  Words are powerful.  They change and evolve......  read full post by clicking on link below

Erotica For All

Monday, 9 July 2012

A Matter of Lust

Check out this hot book by Lisa Fox.  I guarantee that once you've read the extract from Chapter One, you won't want to stop....

A Matter of Lust  
Trask is a lust demon on the hunt for a playmate, a human exceptional enough to sate some of his ravenous hunger. When he finds Rena, he knows that she is the one he must have. He makes it his business to seduce her.

Rena is immediately drawn to Trask. She could easily fall for the dangerously sexy bad boy who makes her scream every time he makes her come, but the problem with bad boys is that they’re actually bad. They break girls’ hearts and hers has been broken too many times already. One more crack might shatter it forever.

Trask claims Rena for his own, but she needs more than just sizzling sex. She wants to trust him, but can they ever share anything more than lust?

An Excerpt From: A MATTER OF LUST
Copyright © LISA FOX, 2012, All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
The deep, melodic trance music vibrated through Trask’s body as he prowled the crowded dance floor. He was hungry, so very, very hungry, and the time had come for him to find a willing partner for the night. Any one of the mortals undulating around him would have sufficed, but so far none of them appealed to him. The need gnawed at his insides, but he waited, searching for the one. Over his long years among the humans, he’d learned that it always paid to be a little bit discriminating. It made the feast so much more gratifying.
He sidestepped around a young woman, his shoulder accidentally brushing against hers. He felt her body temperature rise as he passed, the lust that had been simmering just below the surface swelling to a fevered pitch within her. She grabbed her companion and kissed him ferociously, shamelessly rubbing herself against him. She wasn’t the only one affected by his presence either. Potent waves of raw sexual energy radiated from him, infecting the air around him, threatening to turn the club into one giant orgy. Trask smiled at the thought.
He cruised the dance floor, reveling in the exquisite thrill of his hunt. Human lust was such a decadent treat, so very different from the desperate lust of the damned in hell, and it filled this ordinarily dull world with brilliant light and added depth to the darkest shadows. He could feel it oozing from the dancers, the men and the women, sweating and panting, touching and grinding, their bodies writhing in time with the music. Tension built in his groin and he welcomed the pure, straining delight.
He stopped suddenly, the prickling at the base of his spine alerting him to the presence of another demon nearby. Not a lust demon like himself, but something similar. Pride maybe, or perhaps wrath? He couldn’t quite get a fix on it. He waited, wondering if it was going to make contact. Often other demons haunting and hunting the human realm wanted to meet, to plot and plan and scheme, to “raise some hell” or whatever, but he got the impression that it was occupied with something else entirely. Which was just fine with him. He’d never been the social sort.
The music changed and a thumping bass beat poured out of the speakers. Trask shook off the psychic residue of the other and worked his way toward the bar. He ordered a bourbon on the rocks and leaned back, happily absorbing the intoxicating atmosphere while scanning the crowd for his potential playmate.
His gaze fell upon a woman on the edge of the dance floor in a short, black dress that hugged every curve of her luscious body. Her violently dyed red hair was piled high on her head and sexy tendrils escaped to frame her heart-shaped face. There was a hint of rosy flush on her smooth, round cheeks and the way her hips swayed to the music made his cock stir.
Trask placed his drink aside and unconsciously ran his tongue over his teeth as he glided toward her. She was tall, probably close to six feet in her heels, but he still had to lean down to whisper close to her ear. “Hello,” he purred, breathing in her clean scent of shampoo and roses and woman.
She turned slowly toward him, her gaze roaming over his face, his body, and he got the distinct impression that she was mentally undressing him. He certainly hoped she was. She obviously liked what she saw because a smile blossomed on her glossy, pink lips. “Hi.”
The instant, piercing sexual tension between them made his blood surge. He reached out with a fine strand of psychic energy and lightly dipped into her primal core. Trask hissed as desire coiled in his groin. She was sweet ambrosia, a succulent feast just waiting to happen and his cock ached to sink inside her, to make her come again and again while he fed on all that glorious lust. “You are very beautiful,” he said, savoring the tiny taste of her fire.
“Uh-huh,” she said, mischief and humor making her eyes sparkle. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Trask laughed. He liked this woman. “I think I might be in love with you,” he said, beginning the game. It was a line that had worked many times before—the humans always seemed enchanted and amused by the concept, but it was a hollow sentiment, something meant to elicit a grin and nothing more. But as the words left his mouth, they felt different this time, almost as if they had…weight.
“Are you sure it’s love you feel?” she asked, a smile dancing along the corners of her mouth. Her eyes flicked down to his crotch. “Or something else entirely?”
“Now I know I’m in love,” he replied, the lust coursing through his veins. She was perfect. Fun. Bold. Smoking hot. And she was going to be his. All night long. He reached out and traced the curve of her cheek with his index finger. Her skin was flawless, warm and silky. “What’s your name?”
She paused and an odd, little smile formed on her lips. “Does it matter?”
Normally it wouldn’t matter—in fact, there was no reason why it should matter, but for some reason it did matter. It mattered a lot. “Yes.”
Her smile changed, softened, and Trask was awestruck by just how simply beautiful she was. “Rena. My name is Rena.”
“Rena.” He liked the way it rolled off his tongue.
“And what about you?” she asked, leaning closer to him. He looked straight down into her very ample cleavage and took his time enjoying that magnificent view. His fingers itched to caress that soft skin, to feel the weight of her full, round breasts in his hands. “Do you have a name? Or should I just call you the sexy Darkman of my dreams?”
“I do like the sound of that.” He wondered if his presence was affecting her, making her more daring than she’d normally be or if this was just her nature. He had the power to inspire humans to say and do outrageous things simply by standing beside them. His gaze touched on her flamboyant red hair and he thought—hoped—that it was her and not a consequence of his influence. “But Trask is so much shorter and to the point.”
“Trask,” she said, and he had to admit, he liked the way his name sounded on her lips. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream it. Her eyes trailed over him, her gaze a provocative caress that sent hot, tingling ripples down his spine. “So, now that you’ve declared your love, what happens next?”
“Oh, you know, the usual.” He caught hold of a loose strand of her hair and twined it around his fingers. The tension between them rocketed up a few notches and he inhaled the essence of her arousal, breathing it deep into his body, relishing the flavor of her. “A whirlwind romance, storybook marriage, honeymoon in Paris.”
“Followed swiftly by a quickie divorce in Mexico, right?”
Her voice was tinged with unmistakable venom and the bitterness sliced through the hazy, plush cloud of their lust. Startled by the mental slap in the face, Trask dropped his hand back to his side. Darkness deepened around him as anger settled in. He did not like this turn of events at all. “What makes you think I’d do anything quick with you?”
“I see,” she said, and he watched her features soften as her mood shifted. Humans were so extraordinarily complex. He didn’t think he’d ever understand their ability to feel so much, so quickly and thoroughly, even when those emotions were completely contradictory. Demons were defined by their desires, embodiments of the thing they hungered after. There was never a reason for a demon to feel anything more than his driving need. Everything else just got in the way of the goal.
Her bitterness ebbed away, gone almost as quickly as it had come, and she favored him with a dazzling, flirtatious smile. “You’re a slow-and-steady kind of guy then?”
“Oh yes,” he said, returning her grin. “And I always win in the end.”
She laughed, a lovely, musical sound that tugged at his insides. She leaned into him, a whisper of space between them and he could feel the heat of her body on his skin. “Hmm,” she said, and bit down on her lower lip. Her fingers flitted over his collarbone. “I do like confidence.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Then you’re definitely going to like me.”

About the Author:
World-renowned neurosurgeon, jet fighter pilot, secret member of American royalty, seducer of legions of beautiful, outrageously sexy angels and demons and vampires and werewolves and the occasional pirate, Lisa Fox has done it all…in her own mind. In reality, she can generally be found at her desk with a cup of coffee close at hand. Or maybe a martini. It really depends on the day.
Feedback, comments, opinions, words of wisdom, chocolate cake and the addresses of super hot men are always appreciated and encouraged. Please feel free to contact Lisa any time.
Twitter: @LisaFoxRomance

Friday, 6 July 2012

Nice Girls Don't Write Porn

This is a story about a woman who writes erotica. And a magician. I’ve always found magicians irresistibly sexy….

I am sitting on the bed, kneeling upright, my arms tied behind my back with a soft white rope.   Waiting.  I am wearing a silk slip, very feminine, the colour of bruised peaches.  One strap has fallen down my shoulder, exposing my right breast.  My head is bowed submissively, my long dark hair dropping forward, covering my face like a shiny black curtain.  My legs are parted, as instructed.  I am not wearing knickers.  Karl removed them before he whipped me, leaving a pattern of red lines that criss- cross my naked buttocks.  I can feel the red welts throbbing on the surface but I cannot cry out because Karl has gagged me tightly, with a black silk scarf which he knotted several times before placing it in my mouth and fastening it in position to ensure I could not make the slightest whimper.

Suddenly, I hear a movement behind me.  I feel my muscles tensing as I wait, wondering what will happen next.  I can tell that he is watching me from the doorway.  I can sense his presence but I dare not turn to look.
‘Is my girl hungry?’ he asks, walking towards me. 
I nod.

Nice girls don’t write porn, one of the tales in my collection Kissing Velvet, concerns the enigmatic magician Anton and quirky writer Miranda (the extract above is from one of her stories) .  When Anton asks her if she is an erotic writer or a writer of erotica – or both – Miranda isn’t sure how to answer.  And she soon learns that magic and trust are inextricably connected.  Like pleasure and pain…..

Monday, 2 July 2012

GUEST POST Janine Ashbless: What's in a name?

I'm grateful to Janine Ashbless for her revealing guest post today.  It's all about names, a subject I find endlessly fascinating.  Thanks, Janine!

Names matter.  For some, they matter more than others.
Every writer agonizes over character names. You want something memorable that’ll fit the character role – whether hero or villain, aristocrat or cowboy.  Just think how great a creation is “Severus Snape” for the Harry Potter character!  The very first time you read it, you know it’s threatening and creepy.  In fact J K Rowling has an ear for names that’s almost Dickensian.  (And if you’re British, the very name “Hermione” tells you a ton about the character’s background.) 
Some names get overused in genre fiction. The next dark fantasy writer to use any variant of “Cain” quite frankly deserves a good slapping. In romance the “manly” names are in danger of becoming clich├ęs, to the extent that the Ellora’s Cave publishing house, for example, actually bans characters called Gray, Hawke, Brand, Cash, Raven, Rock, Stone and Wolf, among others.

If you’re using a historical setting it’s even more important that you get it right.  I once read a blurb for a published romance in which the author had unwisely decided that “Sierra” was a perfectly appropriate and believable name for a medieval Englishwoman, and … well, let’s just say I nearly broke my keyboard smashing my head repeatedly against my desk in despair.

My BDSM fairytale novel is called Named and Shamed for good reason:  the “shamed” bit comes from the heroine’s predilection for public humiliation and disgracefully rough and dirty sex. The “named” bit refers to her goal. She’s under a fairy curse, and her only way out is to discover the True Name of the fairy who laid it upon her. If that sounds familiar it’s because it’s a traditional theme in fairy stories – think of Rumpelstiltskin:  the girl has three days to guess the dwarf’s name or he will take her baby. Names give power. Medieval Kabbalists believed they could control the universe through invocation of the true name of God.

In Named and Shamed though, finding the fairy villain’s name turns out to be about more than solving a tricky puzzle or even overcoming the bad guy. It’s about discovering who he really is – something he doesn’t even remember himself. By redefining him, my heroine changes the game altogether.
My heroine’s name, by the way, is Tansy.  I wanted a plant-name: something that would connect her to the natural world of the fairies in my setting. It was happy, happy coincidence (I think) to find that the Latin for the plant tansy is Tanacetum vulgare. Because what she gets up to in Named and Shamed is . . . not terribly ladylike, let’s face it.
Heh heh.
Janine Ashbless

Named and Shamed - extract:
“Once upon a time, a naughty girl called Tansy stole a very precious manuscript from a kindly antiquarian. But all of the world’s ancient and powerful magic, lost for centuries, has returned…and now there is much more at stake than a few sheets of parchment!
Thus begins a rude and rugged fairytale the likes of which you NEVER read when you were little! Poor Tansy is led though the most pleasurable trials and the most shameful tribulations as her quest unfolds before her. Orgasmic joy and abject humiliation are laid upon Tansy in equal measure as she straddles the two worlds of magic and man.

From debauched dryads to oversexed ogres, fantasy and BDSM slither together to make Named & Shamed the consummate adult fable – all lusciously illustrated by John LaChatte. Immerse yourself in this dark and depraved fairy tale, and may all your endings be happy ever after!"

Buy links:

These e-versions include 19 illustrations by John LaChatte, as does the paperback:
Named and Shamed is also available on Kindle, but without interior illustrations.