1st Adult "Raunchy" Book Read Blogfest!

I'm so cheating with this post.  It's not only Saturday evening, but this is a re-posted piece. I know, it's terribly wicked, but why write the same thing over again?  Oh, and it's Sunday tomorrow and I may be up late in the morning, plus on Sunday's we tend to have a leisurely breakfast. ;)

For this blogfest we're supposed to name our first "Adult" book read, but I can't do that without saying how it came about and where I found my first juicy adult read!

At about twelve-years-old I'd moved from kiddo reading (Swallows & Amazons etc) to historical romance, (all found on my mother's book shelves) and the first historical romances I got my teeth into were those of Daphne du Maurier and Georgette Heyer. Though feel I must mention that all the classical literary novels were obigatory and enjoyable reading too: Bronte sisters', Austen etc., and that was only the beginning of a long list of romance novels. I even indulged and read Barbara Cartland historicals as well.





I loved Daphne's descriptions of places - incredibly atmospheric, but found the romantic elements always a little on the chilly side and lacking sensuality.








Whereas, with Georgette's romantic offerings, the sensual was apparent if airing a tad modest!




This is a really interesting link for all Georgette Heyer fans:

see website

Then, oh lordy, I discovered this at age fifteen (hidden at back of bookcase):


Ha ha, my taste for hot and steamy had come of age.

Well, that was it I was on a quest for hot and raunchy reading!

Blimey, when I discovered "Angelique" I learned a lot about mens' desires! If you've never read an Angelique and love steamy historical romance, go buy one: it's

an experience you won't forget.

SERGEANNE GOLON aka Anne Golon: see website.

So, come on, dish the dirt on yourself! Which books got you all hot and bothered?

If you're up for a naughty/shocking read try my historical novella:

"Her Favoured Captain".

It's available on Amazon: see top of sidebar.

To see entries by other partcipants go here

Romantic Friday Writers Challenge No 11 - "Coming Home"

My entry for this challenge is a snippet from a modern historical set 18 yrs post WWII. 

Brief: American pilot officer once stationed at an airfield in the Cotswold Hills, Oxfordshire, UK, has returned, and memories haunt his every step.   

He steered the car toward the village, until now the locale quite alien. The road seemed a lot wider than he’d remembered, plus a few modern houses grouped to the right on approach to the village. 

       His heart lifted on passing the village sign on the roadside.

       Halleluja, the quaint little cottages either side of the main thoroughfare little changed. The church to the right, the village green to left backed by a row of cottages, and the post office still there, just as it had been eighteen years ago. He drove on, and there it was, the Swan Inn nestling on the bank of the River Thames, the stone bridge beside it. The bridge that had once led to  . . .   

       He eased his foot off the accelerator.

       Hell. Stepping back in time not always good.

       As the car glided past the ancient structure, bar for excess in floral display it looked just as it had  . . . 

       He gunned the accelerator, and within a hundred yards braked hard.

       Goddamn it, he’d almost missed the turn.

       He steered the car up the steep incline, the tight bends familiar and his heart beat increased, adrenalin coursing through his veins. Bizarre as it seemed, it felt akin to coming home: a Texan coming home to the Cotswolds.

       The plateau finally reached, his heart felt as though ready to burst. The car ground to a halt where the sentry post had once stood, the old runway barely visible beneath swathes of meadow grasses and wild flowers; brick conning tower and office block dilapidated and roof caved in. Not a sign of Nissen huts.      

       Movement the far side of the airfield caught his eye.

       It was a string of horses and riders at the gallop.

       The memory of a once special girl who’d galloped her horse alongside the perimeter fence just at the point of his aircraft leaving terra firma leapt to mind.

       Then what, shot down over Germany, and not a reply to any letters sent from a stinking POW camp. What was it her mother had said: she doesn’t live here any more. She’s married to an RAF pilot.

       He reached inside the car, grabbed a pair of binoculars.

       No  . . . Get a grip.  You’re seeing things.           

       His heart lurched.      

       Just as beautiful as I remember, but you’re trespassing, Patsy. You’re trespassing on my property.  

       

Word Count: 400.



To see entries by other participants go here

What makes for Inspiration!?

This is the very substance of Summer's blogfest!

As it says in my profile: 

A painting, wind whispering through trees, 

droplet of rain, snowflake on eyelashes: 

all can stir my imagination!

But, portraits remain the greatest inspiration to my writing of romance novels. 

The following pic an example, and end result a novel that is to be published Stateside and due for release July 2012 - The Billionaire's Dilemma: Twin Mistresses.

 

How could two polo players be inspiration?
The polo player on the right inspired the novel, plus overall glamour associated with the sport of princes'.
And of course, women bounty hunters whom seek trophy husbands make for a thrilling read!

The following pic inspired: Her Favoured Captain - a historical novella - available on Kindle.

If interested in why this image inspired you can follow the link and read a sample page here 

Now your prompt!

The Shell house as used in Harry Potter movie: incidentally built on a beach in Pembrokeshire, Wales, not in Cornwall where the story is supposedly set.

Too see entries by other participants to Summer's blogfest go here.

Challenge No. 10 - "Surrender" - Romantic Friday Writers.

If you're here looking for Shelly's poetry blogfest, it's the post below!

Romantic Friday Writers set a new themed challenge every week, and romance writers who love to stretch their writing muscles take up the challenge for a Friday post. Sometimes the cameos presented by members of RFW are real tear-jerkers, sometimes light-hearted, at other times dark and dangerous!  

What might their offerings contain this week - sensual sweet, slightly steamy or scary sexy? As you can see from the image, this Friday's theme is Surrender.  

You don't have to be a member to participate, but it would be nice if you decide to join with us on the good ship Romancer. 

I've chosen a snippet from my English Civil War epic for today's theme Surrender. 

It's a tad steamy, or not: as maybe the case for some. After all, what one person thinks of as a tad erotic another will think of as pure smut. ;)

Brief: Anna Lady Maitcliffe, and Morton Lord Gantry have recent been engaged in a pleasurable if sexy romp within a woodland glade: post swim in pool beneath waterfall.  

Morton suddenly disturbed her daydream. ‘Anna, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

       She tilted her head sideways, taking in the profile of his face, his slumber like pose all too innocent, replied, ‘I cannot be sure that I am ready for marriage.’ 

       He slid his arm from around her, and sat up straight, one knee instantly drawn up to rest his arm upon it. ‘What nonsense is this now, Anna?’ He turned to look down at her, his eyes searching hers, demanding explanation. ‘What possible reason is there to suggest yourself unready for marriage?’

       She propped herself up on one elbow and toyed with a blade of grass: eyes quickly downcast to avoid his questioning gaze.  Having never felt so liberated as today, she gloried in her own nakedness and tore the blade of grass free from its root and reached out to drag it across Morton’s thigh, and thence to her own thigh. She savoured the sensuality as she stroked her skin with the blade of grass, quite aware his eyes fallen to rest on her tantalising gesture. Amused by his sudden interest, she dragged the green strand upward and across her furry mound.  

       ‘Anna, as much as it excites me to witness your teasing ploy you have not explained why you are against becoming my wife.’

       ‘Must you make consideration of marriage, such a tiresome business’ she challenged, well aware how frustrating and infuriating her reluctant stance must sound to him.

       ‘You were wont to wed my father soon enough, and that alone confirms you are not too young to be wed,’ he said, strong grip suddenly applied to her hand, which he promptly edged closer to her delta, the blade of grass teasing the senses.  ‘You say you love me, and therefore I cannot see where objection to becoming my wife fits with our present state of undress.’

       She laughed, looked him in the eye, and said, ‘Unhand me your lordship, I feel you take too many liberties with my person. I will not surrender so easily this time.’

       ‘Too many liberties, eh?’ he said, his tone commanding.  He roared with laughter, caught up her hand in his and rapidly engaged her freehand and forced both above her head in one vicelike grip, her body trapped beneath him. ‘You feel I take too many liberties, then let me take another.’

400 words!

To see entries by other participants, go here.

Shelly's Blogfest - Vampire Dreams!

Shelly Brown is host to this wonderful mind-teasing poetry (whatever) blogfest! 

Vampire Dreams

In still of night and breathless fear, I hear my pounding heart;
A shiver… stilled in the gloom, clouds skitter past a silver moon



Oh snowy owl swooping past, and moon to light thy path,
How soon will he come, the deed to be done?



Power of attraction no dismiss, pure agony and ecstasy of untold bliss,
Life's potent wine the inner lust, give of blooded Nile I must.

Oh snowy owl swooping past, how long to frosted breath on air, sparkle in eyes and scintillating hair?

Come the moment, come the time, the crossing of forever line;
Moonbeams shall dance, and shadows quiver,

Oh snowy owl swooping past, how soon the shadowed wings, and instant sparkle of glittering ring?

Hear him now, footfalls on flagstones, a phantom of night; and I, to embrace his sensual rites and live the orgasmic dream!  

To see other participants entries: go here.