Friday, 5 December 2014

Announcing the arrival of Waterlines 18....

Hello again!

I'm busy writing an erotic novella which includes a generous component of watersports in various settings, and I'm over half-way through.  But the Muse interrupted me with three short stories and I felt compelled to get them out of the way as quickly as possible so that I could continue with the novella in peace.  And here they are - in the form of Waterlines 18.

It's available now in Amazon Kindle and Smashwords; as soon as Barnes & Noble, Apple and Kobo have all scruitinized the content to make sure they're happy with the dirty bits, it'll be available on their websites too.

Warning: this work is for over-18s only and contain elements which some people may find offensive. If you aren't interested in watersports (golden showers), or oral sex - or aren't remotely curious - then please don't buy or read this book.  Here are some quick details:

Desperate Times (3,580 words)
Danielle badly needs to visit the restroom, but the nearest one's occupied. What can she do?  As a result of her action - done in the heat of the moment - she finds herself blackmailed by Jeff, her nasty 'ex'.  How can she extricate herself from this intimate and embarrassing predicament?

In the Beach Hut (2,780 words)
Kathy borrows her cousin's beach hut at the seaside while on a date with Bob.  Caught in the heavy rain, and comparative strangers, they find themselves thrown together into a situation where they become very close... in both senses of the word.  And then, at a critical moment, (spoiler alert!) there's a surprise visitor....

A Churchyard Birthday (3,690 words)
Steve takes a detour through a churchyard on the way home and sees a woman behaving in an extremely gross manner.  Explaining her actions to him, she invites him home for afternoon tea and... a few provocative extras which he'll remember for years ahead.  But things are not what they seem; has he been duped? 

SPECIMEN EXTRACT (from In the Beach Hut):

We’d met at a dance three weeks before; the two dates we’d had since then comprised dinner at restaurants and subsequent trips to the theatre – a shared interest.  We hadn’t held each other for more than a few seconds since the dance night.  And now, here we were, alone together and contemplating dancing in our underwear.

I found a radio station offering suitable music which we could use, and we began cavorting to a fast number by the Rolling Stones.  Arms were flailing around the room and we kept a distance from each other in case of accidental injury.  I observed that the energy he had expended had soon banished his erection.  But our wild dance came to an end in less than a minute and the radio DJ followed with a slow, smoochy ballad.  Bob held me close; it didn’t take long for our bodies to warm up in the body contact.  We said nothing as we moved slowly in each other’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I looked at him quizzically for a moment, and then realised his penis had grown again and his new erection had brushed lightly against me.  I felt flattered that I had induced this desire in him, although I had no plans to encourage him further.  He kissed me briefly on the cheek, but I didn’t respond; I had no wish to rush our relationship.  If it was going anywhere, I’d decided, we’d allow it to develop at a leisurely pace.  Then we could feel more confident about our future together.

Less than a minute later, the music stopped.  There was a scheduled news broadcast.

“We don’t want to listen to that,” I said as I reached across to switch off the radio.  “It’s the weekend.”

“So what do you want to do now?” he asked.  “It’s still pouring with rain outside.”

“We could talk, I suppose.  We still don’t know a great deal about each other.  When we’ve been out together, it hasn’t always been in the environment when we can talk.  We’ve always had to sit in silence at the theatre – and when we’ve been in restaurants, you never know who might be listening.”

“Yet I feel we’ve learned more about each other in the last twenty minutes than in the rest of the time we’ve spent dating.”

“Why?  Because I’ve seen your erection and you’ve seen my... cleavage?”  I pointed to my bra.

“Are you embarrassed about it?”

“Maybe I was at first.  But not now.  I’m sure you’ve been in more intimate situations than this before now.”

“Perhaps. But I don’t think this is the time or place for us to delve into each other’s sex histories.”“Are you hiding a secret about your past life, Bob?”


Just in case you're wondering about the new watersports novella that I mentioned above, I hope to have it out in January.  It's set in England and France during the French Revolution (1789) and contains a little light BDSM (nothing too painful).  There might even be room for a sequel.

Then, waiting patiently next in line in my To Do List, is another story in the Poor Nuns series: the narrator will be one of Dame Anna's grandchildren, and I have some surprises in store.  I'm aiming to have this ready in February.

If you are a reader living in North America or elsewhere outside Europe, you can skip this paragraph.  Now I have some bad news for readers who live in any of the EU countries, although you may have already read this elsewhere on the Web: the European Union is forcing all companies (based anywhere in the world) who publish ebooks to charge Value Added Tax (VAT) at the rate appropriate to the reader's country of residence.  An example: up to now, Amazon has been charging 3% VAT to all European residents, because they publish out of Luxembourg.  Now the tax is charged according to where you live.  UK readers will be subject to 20% VAT, which is a huge jump from 3%.  And standard paperbacks are not charged VAT - that's zilch percent.  Where's the justice in that?  I've been speaking about this to my Member of Parliament, and I've signed the standard petition to try and get this decision reversed.  If you buy any ebooks before December 31 this year, you won't have to suffer this surcharge.

Finally, I have to confess that 2014 wasn't my best year for creativity.  I had so many interruptions which impeded the flow of my thought processes, but it would be churlish of my to present a bunch of excuses to my loyal readership.  I promise to be more productive during 2015 !

My best wishes to you all for the Festive Season,


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