Monday, 27 August 2012

Kissing Velvet Reviews

"Kissing Velvet is a dynamic collection of ambitiously arousing tales, entertaining both the psyche as well as the erogenous zones. It will not disappoint in its delivery as each story has its own unique flavor and creative zest."  The Romance Studio

Every now and then (or more frequently) I get a crisis of confidence about my ability to write.  Recently, I decided to do a big sort out of paperwork and have a filing blitz and in the process I came across some lovely reviews of Kissing Velvet.  It is always gratifying to know that people have enjoyed reading your work, and a big boost for a writer.  After all, the reason for writing is to bring pleasure to others. 

I've started a reviews page on the blog, and feedback is always very welcome.  

Sunday, 19 August 2012

STOP PRESS – pre-orders being taken for Naughty Spanking 3 – out in October!

I've just found out that a collection called Naughty Spanking 3, which includes my short story HUNGER will soon be issued as an e-book in addition to the existing paperback.  

Hunger by Elizabeth Cage
A night out clubbing is designed to help Kira get over her recent break-up, and it looks like hunky dancer Leon might be able to help her forget about hot sex with her ex. She suggests they go back to her place, but Leon’s brother, Ray, insists on tagging along. Her irritation at his playing gooseberry is swiftly forgotten when she learns both men have punishment on their mind.

Naughty Spanking

Pre-orders are being taken for Naughty Spanking 3 – out in October! Go to the link below to reserve your copy. 

Wednesday, 15 August 2012

More Shades of Fifty

Okay, I’ve now completed reading FSOG so finally feel in a position to follow up my post of 18 July.
On one level, I’m a bit mystified about the scale of its success.  A Radio Kent announcer described it as Mills and Boon with whips, and I can see why.  The cover designs are a big factor from a marketing viewpoint because it doesn’t look like a stereotypical erotica book.  But then it isn’t what I would describe as erotica anyway.  So maybe I’ve answered my own question.  It’s a mainstream commercial love story with a mildly kinky veneer.  And a very moralistic tale at that, with what I suppose you could call “traditional values”.  These are my observations:

The writing style has been criticised as repetitive and irritating.  Then again, the story is told from Ana’s viewpoint so maybe it is the character that uses language that grates – in which case this is clever characterisation.  I haven’t decided yet. Personally, I did not feel empathy for Ana or Christian yet I was still curious to see how the story ended, so the writing does have a compelling quality.

The story is selling a lifestyle.  Affluent, without financial limits.  Money = power = sexual magnetism. The rich masculine (and patronising) hero is hugely attractive to the virginal student, who cannot understand how he could find “someone like me” in the least desirable.  (See below my reference to Rebecca).   I thought of Pretty Woman as I was reading, and also Carrie and Mr Big from Sex in the City

A number of romantic literary heroes have been compared to Christian Grey.  For example, Mr Rochester and Heathcliff have been cited.  But Anastasia is more Bridget Jones than Jane Eyre or Kathy, and in some ways I am reminded of the relationship between Maxim de Winter and the young and, initially na├»ve, heroine in Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, with traces of Eliza Doolittle.  Which brings me to the teacher/pupil dynamic, which can be very sexy (and un-pc), and is an integral part of the Dom/sub dynamic. 

In Ana, there are even echoes of Richardson’s Clarissa, and de Sade’s Justine, who would rather die than surrender their virtue, to have their innocence corrupted.  And Ana is terrified of being corrupted.  Rather, she would save Christian from himself and his “dark” tendencies.  Again this refers to the literary tradition of the female fantasy of reforming and saving a damaged man.  Although deeply embedded, it is based on a fallacy (look what happened to Nancy in Oliver Twist). 
Nothing Natural

What I find personally offensive about the book is not the sexual content but the underlying premise that to derive pleasure from a fully consenting adult BDSM relationship you must be psychologically damaged.  That is grossly insulting.  Hang on, you might say, it’s just a book, a work of fiction and of course, that’s true.  So I’m being hypersensitive.  Probably.  It just touches a nerve. 

Although very different in tone to FSOG, Jenny Diski’s 1986 novel Nothing Natural, which charts the destructive affair between a vulnerable woman and a sinister dominant male character incensed me for similar reasons.   The BDSM relationships I have experienced have been loving, respectful and never abusive, either physically or emotionally.  

FSOG is a clever book.  I admired the way (from a marketing viewpoint) that the book ends on a cliff-hanger so you must buy the next book to know how the story continues and resolves.  Will she be reunited with Mr Grey?  And will she save her man?  (Reader, I married him).  She will, of course, have his child, thus completing her mission.  An old fashioned tale, not in the least transgressive.  Will I read Book 2?  Yes, I probably will.  Despite myself.  

Friday, 10 August 2012

Fulfill me by Victoria Blisse

It's lovely to be able to feature a new book Fulfill Me by Victoria Blisse.  A summary and excerpt is below.....

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

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

Buy links:

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

50 Shades of Beige

A highlight of the show on Saturday night was Miss Glory Pearl's superb parody of 50 Shades of Grey.  There are a great many parodies out there but this is outrageously good and deserves a wider audience.  I hope you appreciate it as much as the audience did!  Thank you, Glory, for allowing me to showcase it here. 

Fifty Shades of Beige: A Parody
Scene: A twin room in the Sea Dreams B&B, Margate. Vera and Geoff Beige have come away to the seaside to bring the spark back into their marriage. Geoff is in the bathroom considering his ear hair. Vera is sat at the dressing table writing her diary. It is dusk...

Dear Diary, oh my, we are in Margate. The coach ride down was thrilling - the constant hum of the engine and Geoff sitting beside me with a cheese and pickle sandwich made my insides clench. Even my subconscious was in silent thrall to Geoff's masterful way with a Sudoko, although I suspect that may be because my subconscious is, you know, subconscious and so beyond the reach of my conscious mind. Just saying. Oh my.

We arrived at Sea Dreams and I was vaguely amazed and slightly thrilled at how spacious our twin room is. We even have an en suite. My adrenaline spiked as Geoff sat on the edge of his bed and remarked on the firmness of the mattress, a familiar glint in his eye as his lips quirked up in a half smile. Of course, I say 'quirked' but as that isn't an actual word, what I really mean is that Geoff smiled at me then suggested I get my kit off. Oh my.

Geoff stood, all masterful like, with his trousers hanging off his hips that way - I'd told him to buy a size bigger with his waistline expanding from the bowls club having to close last winter due to council spending cuts, but he wouldn't have it. I bit my lip. Holy crap, that hurt. 
'You're not getting another cold sore are you, Vera?' Geoff asked his voice full of concern, 'Don't pick at it; you'll only make it worse!'
'Um, no,' I mumbled wincing, 'I'm just trying to be provocative, like, you know, get you in the mood.'
'Sea air'll do that!' said Geoff decisively and strode towards me. Grabbing my hair he pulled me into an embrace.
'Mind me blow dry!' I muttered loudly, 'That cost me fifteen quid at Rita's!' but Geoff ignored me, pushing his tongue into my mouth and biting my lip, which when you think about it, is physically impossible but this is erotic fiction so fuck it. I responded hungrily, my insides clenching again (shouldn't have had that third Scotch egg), my adrenaline spiking again, and I realised all them keep fit pilates classes at the church hall were worth it. Oh my.

Pulling my hair back, Geoff nuzzled my neck and I mentally put a new head for his electric razor on this week's shopping list. Holy crap - I forgot to put nipple clamps on there as well as Geoff had to use one of the 'old faithfuls' to pin up the shower curtain in the downstairs bathroom as Maureen's son in law had made such a fist of putting it up in the first place.
My breath hitches, even though I don't really know what that means, as Geoff kissed my neck and with creaking knees continued kissing down my body, pulling my vest down over my still reasonably firm breasts and letting it drop to the floor. My inner goddess started line dancing in anticipation and for a moment I was distracted by the thought of Dolly Parton in a ball gag. Oh my.

Geoff stood and slipped off his cardigan. 'I want you here, now, fast, hard, Vera.' Taking off his tie, that tie, his watery grey eyes fixing mine, silently commanding me. I submit, give up my wrists for binding. All those years on the allotment mean Geoff can tie a mean knot. And for a moment I forgot our modest but comfortable surroundings as I thought about our attic conversion - the Dusty Rose Room of Mild Discomfort as we liked to call our playroom, with its very reasonably priced fitted wardrobes containing our collection of whips, floggers, sex toys and all my old knitting patterns.
An unconscious moan must have escaped my lips as Geoff cupped my sex with his callused hand. 'So warm, Vera,' he said, 'You're always ready - like winter spinach, crop after crop with that stuff.'
'Ooh, Geoff, I love it when you talk gardening to me!' I moaned. Oh my.
'Turn around,' said Geoff harshly. Holy shit... That Look. I obeyed, and found myself facing the bed. 'Bend over.'
'What, what are you going to do? Don't hurt me, please!' I shouted quietly as my nipples grew hard and elongated, brushing the candlewick bedspread.
'Please, what?' said Geoff, getting right into character now.
'Please, Sir!' I cried desperately, my insides clenching, breath hitching, adrenaline spiking etc, etc...

And then I felt it - a rolled up copy of BBC Gardening magazine came down hard on my bottom and I squeaked. Humiliated, turned on, I couldn't like this, could I? Oh my! Holy Crap! My sex grew wetter and Geoff spoke again. 'That was a warning. I will now hit you five times and you will count and say 'thank you' after each blow. Understand? And don't move!'
'Yes, Sir.' I said humbly, adding, 'Thank you, Sir.' For good measure as manners cost nothing, not that the young people today would agree with me, I'm sure.
Each blow inflamed me further. After the third, Geoff pulled down my panties, well, more pants really - the last thing you want on a long coach journey is a wayward gusset and you really can't beat Marks and Spencer Full Briefs for coverage and comfort.

'You have such a beautiful bottom, Vera.' Geoff breathed, his voice thick with want, although in truth, he still hadn't shifted that cold properly, 'And now it's all pink and warm.' He ran his hand lightly, lovingly, over my abused bum cheeks - not what they were when I was twenty but really not bad for a woman with two decades of WI membership under her belt if I do say so myself. Geoff's touch sparked a deep pull in my belly and a groan escaped my lips. He slid two fingers inside me, 'So wet, Vera,' he said, 'Always ready for me, good girl.'

I stifled a protest - I felt like the bloody dog when he called me 'good girl'. He could cut his own toenails later, silly sod. But my train of thought was interrupted by another sharp blow across my bottom. 'Four!' I cried out at the force of it, 'Thank you, Sir!' and I bit my lip and rolled my eyes.
'Don't bite your lip and roll your eyes!' said Geoff. Crap! I hadn't realised he could see my face in the dressing table mirror. 'For that, you get another two strokes!' And there they were, five, six and seven in quick succession that left me gasping, tears stinging my eyes. Holy crap that stung! Geoff pushed me forward so I fell face down on the bed and unsheathed his considerable length. 'I'm going to have you now, Vera.' he whispered, pushing my knees apart with his. Pinning me down he thrust mercilessly into me. Oh My.

His assault started slowly and gathered pace, circling his hips he grinds into me. Everything inside me ignites, including my Inner Goddess, who should not have worn polyester. The fullness, he flexes his hips and I am lost. All sensation, Geoff picks up rhythm, all consuming, I am close, recognising that delicious tightening, quickening, as my insides clench and Geoff rams me hard. 'Come for me, baby.' he grunts, which puts me right off. Baby? I walked a mile in patent wedges to take a Hot Pot to his mother when she'd had her bunions operated on and never a complaint about chaffing. Who is he calling, 'Baby'? But the assault is too much and the sloshing stirring of our mutual vortex is too much for me and my orgasm rips through me, devours me whole as I shatter into a thousand fragments. I'm mewling and whimpering as the aftershocks of my orgasm consume me but Geoff is still humping away behind me and now I just wish he'd hurry up or we'll not have time for a walk along the front before our tea.

Finally, Geoff lets go, and with a deep growl, buries his head in my neck as he buries himself inside me, groaning loudly and incoherently as he finds his 'release' at the apex of my thighs - I'll be honest with you, I've always found sperm a bit, you know, 'distasteful' and it's a bugger to get out of your delicates on a wool wash.

His breathing is erratic. I'm convinced he'll have a heart attack if he doesn't lay off the pies and beer. But he kisses me tenderly as he withdraws, then turns me over and undoes his tie, rubbing my wrists where the fabric has left its pattern. 'Come on, pet,' he says, eyes full of love, 'Let's go and get fish and chips and eat them on the beach - we are on holiday after all!'

I look up at him, at this man I love, who can still make me come like a steam train on a Sunday outing after all these years, and I realise the old bastard didn't even take his bloody socks off!

copyright Emma Mitchell 2012 - all rights reserved

Sunday, 5 August 2012

Saucy fun at the Tom Thumb!

Last night I had a fabulous time taking part in a laughter-filled Wanton Words show at the Tom Thumb theatre in Cliftonville hosted by the wonderful burlesque performers Miss Glory Pearl and Missy Maybe  I read two of my stories, both published in Xcite anthologies.  The first, Neighbours, was initially based on an actual experience when I was driven to distraction one night by a very loud party. The climax, so to speak, was however somewhat different!  The second story, Sweets, charts the sexual adventures of Kandi, whose kinky encounter in the woods doesn't exactly go to plan....

The stories can be found on Amazon. 
Seriously Sexy: v. 3 (Xcite Selections)Sex, Love and Valentines

Our next show at the Tom Thumb is on Saturday October 6th and is a kinky special!  I'll be reading two more stories and I can't wait....

Friday, 3 August 2012

Oysters and Chocolate

Thrilled that my story Ice Cream is on the Oysters and Chocolate website.  I wrote this while on holiday in Iceland, a stunningly beautiful country which inspired me to think about the erotic possibilities offered by the amazing landscapes.....

(Extract from Ice Cream)........He broke off a hunk of bread and meat and she reached out to take it in her hands, but he pushed it towards her mouth.
‘Open wide,’ he said.
Her lips parted and she tasted what was offered.
‘Mmm.  Very.’ 
‘Want more?’
She nodded and before she knew what was happening, his mouth was over hers, his tongue demanding entry. It was rough, impatient – and exactly what she wanted at that moment in time.......... 

Read the complete story on

Thursday, 2 August 2012

Interview with Morgen Bailey

I'm really excited to be interviewed by the wonderful Morgen Bailey on her website.  It's my most detailed interview to date and I really enjoyed the process.  Thanks Morgen!  Please go to the link below for the result and also to browse the wealth of information there for writers and readers.

Wanton Words and Burlesque Bombshells

I'm really looking forward to October when I will be appearing once more in the sellout Canterbury Fringe Festival show Wanton Words and Burlesque Bombshells with the fabulous Burlesque performers Miss Glory Pearl and Missy Maybe. Go to the link below to get tickets.

Wednesday, 1 August 2012

The Book Show

I've just received info about The Book Show, which takes place on 22 September and will be of interest to authors and publishers.

Speakers include authors such as – Suzy Jane-Tanner, Steve Goodwin, Chris Cowlin, and many more
TV Celebrity authors - George Watts, Pete Cohen, and Jenny Ainslie-Turner
Erotica Authors – Lucy Felthouse, Victoria Blisse, Kay Jaybee, Janine Ashbless, Serena Yates, Nephylim
Literary agents from – Ed Victor, Burkeman and Clarke, Whatson Little
Publishers such as – Apex Publishing, Andrews UK, Silver Moon, MX Publishing and many more.
Other Exhibitors / zones – Web site creation, Social Media and Marketing Experts, Erotica Zone.
Ticket price includes access to all panels, talks and zones, as well as Breakfast, Lunch and Afternoon Tea.
Centrally located in Luton, Bedfordshire, one minutes’ walk from the main railway station, two large car parks, and a few minutes from junction 10 of the M1 motorway.
For more info check out the website