Friday, 30 April 2010

Friday House Guest - “Sleek, Shapely Curves” by Victoria Blisse

cos-health-image-3-805606979[1] This week’s House Guest is Victoria Blisse, who we heard from earlier this week in the Wednesday Words slot with an excerpt from her vampire romance, The Point.

Today, she’s going to talk about one of my favourite things – beautiful feminine curves.


When you hear guys talking about expensive sports cars you always hear them drooling about their beautiful curves well when I write, I like to wax lyrical about curves too but I don’t often mention cars.

Hello, I am Victoria Blisse and like to write about ample bosoms, shapely hips and big bottoms. I love writing about real women. Women who have wobbly bits they’re not proud of, cellulite, the odd wrinkle or stretch mark. I got heartily sick of reading romance stories about stick thin girls. You know the type. They’re geeky, shy and apparently unattractive to the opposite sex but the moment they whip off their glasses and shake out their hair they’re ever guy’s wet dream with subtle curves and perky tits to match. I am not that kind of woman and I wanted to write stories about characters like me because we curvy girls deserve love and lust as much as anyone else.

It makes me sad when I see advertising hoardings covered in beautiful women quite clearly airbrushed to remove all their alleged imperfections.  It makes me feel inadequate sometimes because I am never ever going to look like the model on the bill board, heck if she’s had to be airbrushed I don’t know what computer hi jinks they’d have to do to make me look presentable! But not just that, it makes me feel sorry for the poor girl who is obviously stunning to start with but still has her image digitally played with before it can be used. How awful must that make a person feel? It’s just as bad for guys these days, they’re coming under similar pressures to look toned, tanned and well groomed as we women have experienced for many years.

Well, I think it’s time that we reject the media image which is so unobtainable it’s unreal. I mean if Lara Croft really existed she’d keep toppling over with the weight of her massive, pert boobs! No, we need to be looking for the good, the sexy in ourselves just the way we are.  We’ll never be perfect and that shouldn’t be seen as a bad thing. Imperfections are what make us different from each other. They’re the things that mark us out as an individual and it’s about time we started to champion diversity and the love of our wobbly bits.

I like to think I’m doing my bit with the characters in my stories. How does the physical description of a book character impact your view of them? Do you prefer the body perfect hero/heroine or do you prefer characters with imperfections like I do? I’d be very interested to hear your views.

Thanks Marc, I hope to be back here again in the future.


Vic is a northern lass, hailing from sunny Manchester. Check out her website, facebook, facebook fan page (cool, I’ll have to get one of those, not that I have any fans) and twitter. Lots of lovely ways to contact her.

Thursday, 29 April 2010

What a Response

0004-cntjpjwlxhhl6zllycfgbaz4o1_500 Well, I have to say I’m completely overwhelmed at the response to my opening up the blog to guest posters. One look at the blog’s new “Coming Soon” page will tell you I’ve been busy this week corresponding with fellow authors and slots have been filling up fast.

We’ve already had a great excerpt from Victoria Blisse’s The Point yesterday and tomorrow she’s written an interesting piece about curvy women. Both of those coming after my good friend Cassie Exline kicked things off on Monday with her delightful vampire flash.

But that’s just the start. Look at the guests I have coming up.

  • 7 May - Friday House Guest is Misty Malone
  • 10 May - Monday Morning Flash - "Hot Cream Desire" by Cassie Exline
  • 12 May - Wednesday Words - "Verasheyan" by J.Trout
  • 14 May - Friday House Guest is Christine London
  • 19 May - Wednesday Words by Don Luis de la Cosa
  • 24 May - Monday Morning Flash - "One Brief Moment" by Christine London
  • 2 June - Wednesday Words - "Dead Men Get No Tail" by Misty Malone
  • 9 June - Wednesday Words - "Soul in his Eyes" by Christine London
  • 16 June - Wednesday Words - "Exposure" by Lisabet Sarai
  • 16 July - Friday House Guest - "Build a Brand or Branch Out" by Lisabet Sarai

And that’s not listing the weeks where I’ve felt the need to book Monday or Wednesday slots for myself – it is my blog after all.

I can tell you this, I’m really looking forward to the next few weeks.

Wednesday, 28 April 2010

Wednesday Words - “The Point” by Victoria Blisse

Today’s excerpt comes from The Point by fellow British author Victoria Blisse, published by Total-E-Bound and priced at £2.49, which is just under $5 for you folks across the water.

Vic is a northern lass, hailing from sunny Manchester. She is, unfortunately, a United supporter, but we all have our flaws and that’s obviously hers. Check out her website, facebook, facebook fan page (cool, I’ll have to get one of those, not that I have any fans) and twitter. Lots of lovely ways to contact her.

The Point is an erotic vampire romance, indeed it’s the first book in the Point Vamp Series. A bit like Twilight but with dirty bits. Actually, that’s doing the book a disservice – it’s way better than Twilight. Here’s what “Jenny X” from Newcastle (another warm, sunny northern town) said about the book in her review…

Ms. Blisse brings lust into the mix with one of the hottest stories I think I’ve ever read. For someone who has been dead for over a hundred years, Hugh is HOT!

Here’s the blurb:

ThePointsml[1]Love conquers all, that is the point but can it bridge the differences between a vampire and a woman?
Hugh is twenty eight. He has been twenty eight for nearly one hundred years. Hugh is a vampire. He owns a club called The Point and he pays girls to have sex with him. He then counts to ten as he sucks their blood to semi-satisfy his lust.
Elizabeth is a doctor, she loves her job but likes to escape into the countryside now and then. When she twists her ankle Hugh comes to her aid. He carries her curvy form all the way back to his home. He takes care of her ankle and the rest of her body too but he goes too far and sucks her perfectly intoxicating blood.
How can these two lovers have any kind of relationship? They don’t know, only time will reveal the answers. 


In this excerpt, Hugh has just rescued Elizabeth who had twisted her ankle in a deserted field in the middle of a thunderstorm. Hugh carries her back to his home and helps to dry her and then to dress her. Both of them are flustered by their contact with the other and as Elizabeth struggles to keep thinking of Hugh as a possible threat, he struggles to avoid thinking about drinking her blood:

“Here, you can hold on to this now,” he said, “whilst I help you into the dress.”

“I really don’t think it will fit. My waist isn’t that sculptured.”

“You will fit,” he said and set the dress down over the chair seat. He still held a garment in his hand. “I will fit you into this first then I will put the dress on you.”

“Oh, right, a corset.” She was completely bemused by the situation now. It was so out of the ordinary she had given up on trying to make any sense of it. Hugh walked around behind her, and she found her anxiety all the worse. She had to lean forward a little to hold on to the chair with her breasts hanging free, which was embarrassing enough, but she knew from the back he would see her enormous arse. Even though he’d said she was beautiful, she doubted he would think so from behind. Chris, the only guy she’d ever gotten sexual with, said her bum was horrible, that it was too fleshy and too big. He wouldn’t touch it. But then he’d barely touched anything else either. She found out later he was only going out with her on a stupid dare anyway. He was seeing if he could shag all the girls in the class, but he had to do it more than once to count. They’d done it twice. In total, the experiences lasted fifteen minutes.

Elizabeth was jolted back to reality when Hugh’s cold hands brushed against her back.

He pulled the corset tighter, and Elizabeth felt it wrapping around her breasts.

“Can you stand up straight a moment?” he asked, and she did so. Hugh’s hand stayed at her back until she had balanced. It surprised her how comforting his touch was.

“I just need to make sure you’re comfortable,” Hugh said close her ear. She licked her lips.

“Sure,” she replied.

He walked round and squeezed in front of her, his back against the chair. He pulled at the stiff material then with his gentle, chilling fingers, he scooped up her breasts and settled them properly in the confines of the corset. She bit her lip to hold in a moan of delight and hoped he could not see how hard her nipples were.

“Done,” he said and smiled at her. Their faces were so close that she couldn’t help looking up at his lips. They curled into a little smile, and she knew she only had to lean forward and they would kiss. She leant forward, not out of choice but because she had lost concentration. Hugh’s hands came up to her sides to steady her body, and his lips came down to agitate her spirit.

She gasped. His lips were as icy as his hands, and they were demanding. They undulated and coaxed the kiss from her own lips. Her mind spun as her body reacted. Her hands ran up and down the front of his body. They slipped under the heavy material of his jacket then traced his hard torso through the silken material of his shirt.

He pulled away suddenly. She almost fell, but he kept her steady, his hands braced around her waist.

“Now, you need fastening.” He seemed shaken up too. He spoke fast, and his hands shook at her waist as he slipped behind her, sliding his hands around her to keep her steadied.

“Yes, fastening, yes,” she said. She made no sense and realised it, but she could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers and her fingertips tingled. She was completely undone, and she didn’t mean just the corset.

“You should feel a gentle constriction, Elizabeth. If it feels too tight, please tell me.”

She might have been mistaken, but she was sure Hugh’s hands shook as they tweaked and twiddled strings.

The two sides gradually started to pull farther around, and Elizabeth started to feel the constriction. As he pulled tighter, Hugh got closer until he stood behind her with his trouser front pressed into the flesh of her buttocks. She felt him through the thick material of his pants. He was hard, really hard.  She pushed back her hips and was rewarded with a strangled, gasping groan. Now, she was sure of it. He was as aroused as she was.

“Right,” he said. His hands rested on her hips. “I think you’re secure now. Stand up straight against me so I can check.” She pushed up and wobbled a little, but Hugh’s hands stopped her from tumbling over. “How does that feel?”

“Okay,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Not too tight.”

He ran his hands around her waist, until his hands cupped her breasts through the material.

“Nothing bites or digs in?” His chin rested on her shoulder, and she knew he was looking down into her impressive cleavage.

“No,” she said then he pressed his lips to her neck, and she moaned as her leg nearly buckled under her. “It feels remarkably good.”

“That’s good,” he whispered. His lips leant on her flesh as if he were undecided what to do next. “It feels good.” He ran his fingers down her sides and to the very edge of the corset and traced along the border between skin and clothing. She shivered as his touch slipped lower and wondered what he was doing. She wanted to move his hand away, not because she wasn’t enjoying it but because she was afraid that he would be turned off by what he felt. She did nothing to stop him though. She was hypnotised by the gently undulating kisses on one spot of her exposed neck, and she let him run his fingers over her freely. He explored her hip and thigh. Smoothly, he moved inward, and she knew her flesh was slick as she was aroused to a level she had not experienced before.”


If you would like to win some signed The Point goodies you should check out the competition at A vampiric cocktail needs a name and if you come up with it your cocktail will feature in a Point Vamp book and you’ll get your name in the acknowledgements to that story. 

There are 3 ways to win 3 big prizes, for more details check out:

Monday, 26 April 2010

Monday Morning Flash - “Crimson Lips” by Cassie Exline

red lips Today sees the first guest flash and it comes from my good friend, the lovely Ms Cassie Exline. Why not visit her website where you’ll find more free stories to read. She’s also on Myspace, Facebook, and Twitter.

I hope you enjoy Crimson Lips


Crimson Lips by Cassie Exline

(362 words)

Yellow and orange flames danced in the limestone fireplace at Stone Manor Ski Lodge. Bethany tossed a crumpled letter and watched fiery fingers devour it until there was nothing but charred embers. She crushed the rose in her hand, enjoying the pain as the thorn pierced her palm. Crimson petals joined the letter, fizzling as the fire laid claim.

Bethany appeared lost in thought, yet wasn't startled when a deep voice said, “Can I be of service?”

She turned toward a man who had sky blue eyes, full lips and pearly white teeth. “I've been abandoned.”

“Thought as much.”

A lone tear rolled down her cheek and dropped onto the toe of her shoe. Bethany stared at the glistening pool.

“A shuttle bus comes every morning to drop off day skiers. You can catch a ride back to town,” he said.

She sighed.

“Since that won't be for several hours, why don't you spend the night in my room?”

Her head jerked up and she looked at him.

“My name is Adam.” When she didn't respond, he said, “I've never had any complaints.”

Bethany stared at the floor.

He cupped her chin and lifted it until their eyes met. “We won't do anything you don't want to do.”

Her tongue glided across her ruby red lips. He smiled. She nodded and followed him to his room.

Adam undressed her with tenderness and covered her bare body with kisses. His lips teased her while his cock pleased her. She moaned her pleasure while consumed by waves of ecstasy. He rode her soft and rode her hard. Then she took her turn enjoying his body. He was right, she had no complaints.

Golden rays of morning light streaked through the room. She peeked outside and saw the shuttle bus lumbering up the road toward the lodge.

“Adam, you tasted like heaven.” Bethany pulled on her clothes and fastened her cloak. The gray hood hid her face. “I hate to eat and run but I can't be caught here.” The blue from his lifeless eyes was already fading. She covered his pale body with the rose covered comforter and licked her crimson lips. “Very tasty.”

Sunday, 25 April 2010

Six Sentence Sunday 25/04/2010 - “Eternally & Evermore”

Eternally & Evermore This week’s Six Sentences come from my upcoming release “Eternally & Evermore”, which tells the story of Will and Amy, star-crossed teen lovers who fate tears apart for twenty years only to throw them back together to cause chaos in both their lives.

These six come from a scene at the school reunion when they meet up in their thirties and is the start of their problems. They have slipped out of the hall into the gardens and shared a tender yet passionate kiss.

This isn’t the official cover, it’s one I knocked together as I was writing the book. The cover girl is a porn star – can you believe that? Her name is Lexi Belle and after I altered her eye colour she looks just like I imagined Amy to be. Gorgeous, isn’t she? I love the way she is staring right down the camera.


“I just needed to know if it was still there. Us, the spark, the connection,” she whispered.

“And was it?”

“Was it ever - more’s the pity.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because life would have been some much less complicated if it wasn’t.”


You can read today’s Six Sentences from other great authors via the Six Sentence Sunday Blog or search twitter for #sixsunday

Saturday, 24 April 2010

Images of Spring

If you’ve been following this week, you’ll know that I’ve decided I’m going to post certain types of things on certain days – Monday Morning Flash, Wednesday Words, Thursday Thoughts, Friday House Guest and Six Sentence Sunday.

You’ll notice that I’ve left Tuesdays and Saturdays free. That’s partly to give me a break from posting every day but partly to give me some freedom to post anything I want. Something I’d like to post is more pictures.

I wouldn’t call myself a ‘keen’ photographer, but I do enjoy taking interesting pictures. And over the years I’ve taken what I think are some good ones. I’ve also collected some nice images from the internet – some sexy, some just interesting.

So posting those photos is one of the things I’d like to do on Tuesdays and Saturdays – not all the time, but every now and then.

Today, I’m sharing some photos I took this time last year in the garden. I hope you enjoy them.





Friday, 23 April 2010

Friday House Guest – Cassie Exline

44 Since I only launched the Friday House Guest in my post yesterday I really didn’t expect to be able to post one today.  I have had some folks show an interest already, and next week my House Guest will be Victoria Blisse, but I thought I’d kick things off by re-posting a guest blog that the lovely Ms Cassie Exline wrote for me back in September. Cassie will also be contributing a couple of Monday Morning Flash entries over the next few weeks. I hope you enjoy re-reading her post.


Hello, my name is Cassie Exline. I'd like to thank Marc for asking me to be his first guest. I'm honoured. In 2004, Marc and I met at Desdmona's FishTank, a critique group for writers of erotica. What's unique about the Tank is that the members are from all over the globe and at different stages in their writing career. Add to the mix different genders and there's bound to be explosions. But it's that interaction with peers and seeing what the other writers glean from your work that is priceless. Oh, I'm not saying that my toes were never stepped on or I never got bent out of shape by some of the comments, but it taught me to step back and be more objective about my story (after the anger management classes and they took away my baseball bat).

What I learned from Marc and other members from the UK is there is a big difference in English. But what we from the United States don't realize is how authors from other countries have to work hard to blend with our way of writing stories. By “our” I mean publishing houses in the U.S.. Nor did I consider that a male writer could have trouble fitting into the world of romance authors. Although I don't think Marc is having any trouble in that area. And don't get me started on the time difference, Lord ,have mercy.

But I do credit the Tank with helping me get my start and for my success in getting my work published. I think every author should participate in such a group. It's a valuable, valuable experience. And I still participate in the group. It'll always be home base for me.

treeofburiedsecrets133x200Since then, I've had several stories published at Ruthie's Club, The Erotic Woman, Justus Roux, and the Erotic Bookworm. Also one of my stories is in one of the Coming Together anthologies at Phaze.

My first ebook, Tree of Buried Secrets, published by Lyrical Press, had its start at the Tank. I worked hard on researching for that story, things from a widow's walk, Victorian mansions to apple trees and wine. Research is one of my favourite things to do, next to writing. Tree was also named Book of the Week at LASR and it came in #20 in a Preditors and Editors poll in the best contemporary romance category.

A dark night. A terrible tragedy. A buried secret. On the night of her elopement, Julia witnesses a tragedy that spawns generations of secrets. For too long she's managed to remain silent. Only when Julia is unable to carry her burden any longer does she dare confess what she saw that one dark night decades ago…

Cassie-Amber-1Amber's Mysterious Death has just been released and is the first book of my new Sheryl Locke Holmes Mystery series available at Wild Child Publishing. Three more books of the series are also under contract: Ruby's Deadly Secret, Opal's Disappearance, and Dragon's Pearl. Each title features a gemstone which is also the name of a character. Whether the character is good or bad, lives or dies, well, you'll have to read the series to find the clues. Sheryl has excellent deductive skills and was born to be a cop, but her parents wanted her to take over the family antique business. With the help of Sheryl's best friend, Dot Watson, they've found a way to mix business with chills and thrills.

In Amber's Mysterious Death: Amber was Sheryl's and Dot's best friend in college. The three were inseparable. The game's afoot when Sheryl spots Amber's husband, Roger. The man had disappeared without a trace after Amber's death, leaving numerous unanswered questions. With the help of Dot, Sheryl follows Roger and a trail of amber jewellery which leads to duplicity, mayhem, and murder.

Cassie-Ruby-2Ruby's Deadly Secret: While exploring Bridgeside, a Victorian mansion, Sheryl and Dot discover a diary, which reveals dark secrets about Sheryl's parents. Someone wants Sheryl dead, but who and why?


Opal's Disappearance: An old college friend begs Sheryl to help find her missing cousin, Opal, who may have been kidnapped by a mysterious mountain man. Sheryl concocts a dangerous plan when she offers herself as bait for the kidnapper.

Dragon's Pearl: Blood on the moon signifies death for some unlucky victim. A haunted music box and a ghost keep Sheryl and her cohorts on their toes.


Work In Progress: The Curse of Jade's Bluff. Logic dictates that a curse is ludicrous. But Sheryl is ready to throw logic out the window when a stalker manages to leave her threatening notes, dead flowers, and knows her every move, yet no one ever sees him. Sheryl wonders if she'll escape with her life this time.

Please visit my website and check out all of my releases. There are also free stories to read. I'm also on Myspace, Facebook, and Twitter.

Thursday, 22 April 2010

What’s in Store? A blog is, most of the time, a writer’s best marketing tool. But it only works as a tool if the writer can attract a steady stream of readers – be they as subscribers to the RSS feed or as visitors to the site. Listen to any ‘expert’ and they’ll tell you the best way to attract and keep readers is to post regularly.

Now, in recent months I’ve found it increasingly difficult to find the time to write interesting posts for this blog. My entries have not been as regular as they should have perhaps been.

Introducing Six Sentence Sunday and Monday Morning Flash have both helped as they give me regular posts where I don’t really have to think about what to write – I just need to look through my work and find a good extract or pick a good flash story. And yesterday I started another regular feature that should be easier to keep up with than thinking of something to write all the time in the shape of Wednesday Words – what I plan will be my regular longer excerpt posting day.

Last night, I gave the idea of a blog with more structure some thought and came up with two other ideas for regular features. I considered and reject Half Nekkid Thursday on the basis that no-one would ever want to see me nekkid or half-nekkid. I’ve also noticed that many romance writers now seem to be posting pictures of naked or semi-naked men – well, I say men, they’re not *real* men, are they, just steroid fuelled fuck-toys – on their blogs. You can probably find one on every day of the week across various blogs. Now, I’m not proposing naked men, no sir, I’d be posting half-naked women, obviously. But something tells me that would be more hassle than it’s worth. (I’m not going to get my my high horse about this, by why is it women who post pictures of ‘hunks’ are ‘expressing their sexuality’ but men who post pictures of ‘hot women’ are just considered perverts?)

So that’s two ideas rejected.

Instead, I’m going to add Thursday Thoughts to the mix. That’ll be my day to post something interesting, thought provoking, or just a bit of a rant. I’d also like to add the Friday House Guest – a guest blogger’s spot to write about anything that takes their fancy.

Finally, I’ll be opening up Monday Morning Flash and Wednesday’s Words to guest posters. I’ve got enough flash stories already written to keep the slot going for a couple of months, but after that writing one a week will be nigh on impossible. By opening the slot up, I can keep it going for longer. Same goes for Wednesday’s Words. There’s only so many excerpts from the same book you can post before you’ve posted the whole damn thing, near as makes no difference.

I’m not committing to keeping this up forever. I’m not even saying I’ll have the time or guest contributions to do it every week, but I’ll certainly do by best.

The new structure of this blog then is as follows :

  • Sunday – Six Sentence Sunday
  • Monday – Monday Morning Flash
  • Tuesday – no set post
  • Wednesday – Wednesday’s Words
  • Thursday – Thursday’s Thoughts
  • Friday – Friday House Guest
  • Saturday – no set post

Don’t expect a Friday House Guest tomorrow though, cause I haven’t even put the call out yet. In fact, let’s do it now. If you are an author who would like a guest spot on this blog on a Friday, or if you’ve got a flash story (500 words or less, but I’d prefer 300) that you’d like featured on a Monday, or if you have a great excerpt for a Wednesday then drop me a line.

I’m looking forward to this. I hope you are too.

And yes, the photo at the top of the page is completely unrelated to the post. And…?

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

Wednesday’s Words - “Ladz #56 : Laura”

gal_tzratzk_emladzemlocalToday marks the start of a new regular feature on my blog – Wednesday’s Words. Each and every Wednesday I’ll be posting an excerpt from one of my novels or short stories.

Today’s excerpt comes from the short that was originally published at Ruthie’s Club, Ladz Local Lovelies #56 : Laura. If you enjoy it, you can download it, and the other Ladz stories, from the free stories section of my website.

As with all the stories from Ruthie’s, this one had a terrific illustration to go with it, this one by the artist Tzratzk. Unfortunately, the illustration is owned by Ruthie’s, and all I’m allowed to use is the preview thumbnail.

“Okay, this time next week we’ll start looking at Alex Garland’s The Beach, and its impact on contemporary culture. I’ll expect you all to be familiar with the text by then. And I don’t mean watching the film a couple of times. Read the book, people. Read the book.”

There was a thunderous din of chairs scraping on the floor and equipment being stuffed into bags as the class rose and prepared to leave the lecture theatre. Laura was at the centre of the crowd that slowly filed towards the exit. With so many people in such a small space, it wasn’t unusual for her to feel bodies pressed against her when they left lectures, but she could have sworn that at least two of her classmates grabbed her backside. And was it her imagination, or did someone try to slip a hand under her skirt?

The lecturer called her over to him as she passed his desk. “Just a quick word, if you don’t mind.”

Laura peeled off from the crowd. She held her textbooks and folder of notes in front of her, pressed against her chest like a shield. “What’s wrong, Professor Hussein? It’s my last essay, isn’t it? It wasn’t any good.”

“No, no. It was fine. Very good, in fact. No, it’s your outfit.”

“My outfit?”

“I don’t know if you’re deliberately trying to distract your male colleagues, or me for that matter, but that’s certainly what you’ve done today. Throughout the lecture, I saw more faces turning around to look at you than I did pay attention to the discussion of Tipping the Velvet, which quite frankly is normally the most hotly discussed novel of this course.”

“I can’t say that I noticed anyone looking at me,” she lied.

“Whether you noticed, is not the issue here. I will not tolerate distractions of any kind in my lectures. Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry, Professor. I didn’t mean…”

“I’m sure you didn’t. But, in future, tone it down a little. This is a place of study, not a fashion house. Either that, or sit in the front row. At least that way, your admirers won’t risk a neck injury.”

Laura sheepishly left the room to find her friend, Anthony, waiting for her. “What did he want?”

“Nothing. It was about my last essay.”

“You look upset.”

“No. I’m fine. Shall we go for lunch? I’m starving.”

They walked through the campus towards the Students’ Union. There were many people heading the same way and still more hanging around between lectures. Laura noticed that she was attracting more stares and second glances than she usually expected, even for this outfit. After all, there were plenty of other good-looking girls about. Anthony seemed to have noticed too. “You’re popular today. Can’t say I’m surprised. You look good. Great outfit.”

Laura smiled at him and said, “Thanks. I’m glad you like it. It’s one of my favourites.”

“Yeah, mine too. Any chance of seeing a bit more?”

“There’s not much more to see, Ant.”

Laura wore a short denim skirt and a tight white tank top. She’d chosen the outfit partly because of the unseasonably warm weather, but had a second, secret reason—she knew Anthony would like the outfit. He always liked what she wore, even the baggy jogging pants and thick sweaters that made up her winter wardrobe. He made no secret of how much he fancied her.

“I just hoped I might get to see what’s underneath it someday.”

“Who knows? One day you might.”

“So you’ll go out with me then?”

“How many times, Ant? I’m not interested. We’re friends. That’s all.” If you weren’t such a child, if you were a bit more mature, then things might be different.

“Are you still hung up on that Gavin bloke that shares your flat? You know it’s wasted effort, don’t you?”

“It’s just a matter of time…”

“I reckon he must be gay or something. If I was him, I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”

“Then I should be thankful that you’re not him, shouldn’t I?”

They entered the cafeteria in the Student’s Union, and joined the queue at the food counter. After they got their meals, they found a table by a window and chatted about the lecture that they had just left. A young man sitting at a few tables away stood and crept over to them. He had a magazine in one hand and a pen in the other. On any other day, Laura wouldn’t have looked twice at a geek like him. But today…


“Erm…” The young man cleared his throat. “Erm, is it really you?” He nodded towards the magazine.

Laura grinned. Then she nodded.

The geek held out the magazine and pen. “Would you…?”

Laura blushed. She hadn’t expected to have to give autographs. She took the magazine. It was open at the page he wanted signed. Laura scrawled her signature on the magazine and handed it back.

“Th… Thanks.” He scurried away.

Anthony looked dumbstruck, his fork half way to his mouth. “What…? What was all that about?”

Laura ate a mouthful of her lunch before she said, “Do you ever buy Ladz?”

“God, no! It’s patronising that they think men are only interested in football, video games, cars and naked women.”

“You seemed interested in seeing this woman naked.”

“But that’s different. I mean, you’re gorgeous.”

Laura blushed. “So, you never read it?”

“There’s not that much to read. I browse through it in the newsagents, just like everyone else does, but I’d never buy it.”

“Well, if you look through it this week, I’m certain you’ll want to buy it.”


Laura didn’t answer. She ate some chips from her plate. “Have you ever read The Beach before? I’ve only ever seen the film.”

There were no more interruptions during lunch. After they had finished and left the cafeteria, Anthony turned towards the campus shop.

“Where are you going?” Laura asked.

“See what’s so special about this issue of Ladz.”

“Oh, okay. See you later then.”

“You’re not coming?”

I hope I will be later. “No. I have to get back to the flat.”

She walked a few paces and then looked back to see if Anthony had gone. She watched him enter the newsagents then quickly doubled back to follow him. Taking care to make sure he couldn’t see her, she watched him browse the magazine rack against the wall until he found Ladz. He took it down, opened it, and quickly flicked through. He stopped suddenly and stared at the pages. “Bloody hell!”

As if he could sense her watching him, Anthony turned his head and caught Laura’s eye. She smiled at him, raised her eyebrows and waved. Then she left, certain that Anthony was already heading for the checkout.

Tuesday, 20 April 2010

Regular Features?

0003-n4fa7vzxdljb54kghutll8lxo1_5001 A few weeks ago I started the first regular feature on this blog – Six Sentence Sunday. And for the past two weeks I’ve posted a Monday Morning Flash. And they’ve gone down well – blog hits on Sundays and Mondays have gone up as have by feed subscriptions.

So, I guess the question is, should I add more regular features? There are a whole bunch doing the blog rounds, things like Thursday Thirteen – which, honestly, I’m not keen on.  And I don’t think Half-Naked Thursday would be much good either – I mean, do you really want to see naked? Or even half-naked? No, didn’t think so.

But how about a regular excerpts? Not just from the published and upcoming novels, but from the WIPs and short stories too. Yes, Yes, I know, that’s essentially what SSS is, but that is only six sentences – I’m talking about proper excerpts. A thousand words or more.

Sound good? Okay, let’s do that then. Wednesdays, that seems like a good day to do it.

Until tomorrow then.

I should also mention that right now I’m in the middle of going through all the blog subscriptions I seems to have added to MySpace over the past couple of years in a effort to consolidate them in my Google Reader account. MySpace, as we all know, has lost the battle of the Social Networks and is slowly dying. Many of the blogs I’ve already been through haven’t been updated in yonks. But, thankfully, I’ve been able to search out the authors ‘real’ blog and add that feed instead. Good Ole Goog.

When I’ve been through all my MySpace subs – and I will add a MySpace feed if the blog is active and there isn’t an alternative – I’m going to cease posting this blog on MySpace. I don’t see the point anymore. I’ll post a ‘parking’ page directing people to Facebook, Twitter and blogger instead.

And in case you were wondering, no, the photo at the top of the page has nothing to do with the post – I just like it. :-)

Monday, 19 April 2010

It Worries Me, It Really Does

So, we’ve had a whole weekend to digest and reflect on the first political parties leaders debate held last Thursday, and you know what, I’m worried. But not for the reason you might think.

I don’t believe I’ve ever actually stated my political leanings on this blog, although I’m sure regular readers will have an inkling which side of the divide I fall from the tone of my posts or from reading my tweets (if you follow me on twitter). But regardless, I’m not worried because the party I ‘support’ (and I use that term in the flimsiest sense of the word) came out badly. Frankly, I couldn’t care less who ‘won’ and ‘lost’.

No, I’m more worried by the reaction in the media and in the country.

Firstly, the more I hear about and read comment on the debate, the more I think I must have been watching a different broadcast. And secondly, I’m worried that the populace of this country is so fickle, and so feeble minded, that they are willing to change who they plan to vote for on the strength on one television appearance – especially when there are two more to go.

Let’s deal with the first point, shall we? The problem I have with the media reaction to the debate is probably more a reflection of my current distaste for ‘old media’ than anything to do with the debate. The media went into the debate looking for a ‘winner’ – someone they could proclaim and build up, probably with the intention of knocking them down again later on.

I, on the other hand, went into the debate looking to see if I could be persuaded by the arguments.

The media seemed very excited by one man looking in the camera, putting his hand in his pocket and appearing to be ‘relaxed’. I, on the other hand, was listening to what they said rather than how they said it. I think all three leaders made some good points but the two who I wasn’t inclined to vote for before the debate, didn’t say anything during it that changed my mind.

It was an interesting debate, but honestly, I don’t think I learned anything from it that I haven’t already learned in the past few months.

Which is where my second worry comes in. Apparently, (if you believe the media)  a huge portion of the population was so impressed with this ‘Clegg bloke’, who they had never seen or heard from before, they they are now willing to vote for him.

Let’s just break that down, shall we? Firstly, Nick Clegg has been leader of the LibDems for some time now – how can you not know who he is? Do you really take that little notice of what’s going on in the country? And secondly, you’re really willing to vote for someone because he smiled a lot and remembered people’s names? Seriously?

Lord help us.

And it gets worse. I read an article online yesterday (sorry, can’t remember where and I’m at work not on my home PC so can’t look in my history) that claimed that most of those people who have ‘changed’ their vote to the LibDems after the debate, don’t actually agree with the party’s policies when told what they are.


Lord help us.

And we’ve got two debates to go. So does this mean that if Cameron ‘wins’ the next one, all those fickle voters will change their minds again? Or if Brown gets a haircut and learns how to smile without looking like he’s about to eat your children, will people suddenly want to vote for him instead?

The problem, it seems to me, comes back to the media and their ‘need’ to wrap up complex issues in a three minute report and some fancy on-screen graphics. It’s been said that we as a people have developed a short attention span and can’t cope with in-depth analysis. Who’s fault do you think that is? Jeremy Kyle’s?

You know, I’m beginning to hope beyond hope that whatever the result of the election on May 6th, it’s the exact opposite of what the media predicts. Maybe then they’ll learn. But I doubt it.

Monday Morning Flash - “Bathtime”

You thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you? It’s Monday again and that means I’m serving up another little flash.

This is another old one. I hope you like it. I plan on writing some new ones. Eventually. If I can squeeze them in. Trouble is, despite their diminutive size, Flash takes a long time to write. It’s all about picking the best phrase, the best word, to say what you want in the shortest way possible.

Anyway, here’s Bathtime. Enjoy.

(296 words)

Natalie’s university accommodation dashed her hopes of escaping her prudish parents. She was staying in St.  Sandrine’s, an all female hall of residence run by a strict matron.

One evening, four months into her course, Natalie finished an assignment and decided to have a long bath, rather than sneak out to the pub with her friends. The hall only had one bathroom and it was rare to find one of the two baths free.

She locked herself in the cubicle and shaved her legs while she waited for the bath to fill. The walls separating the cubicles were thin. Natalie could hear the other bath being filled. She considered calling out to her neighbour, but didn’t in case it was someone she didn’t know very well. She settled down for a relaxing soak instead.

She lay, eyes half closed, and let the water’s warmth sooth her aching body. There were sounds coming from the other cubicle again. Water sloshed and a woman moaned. Whoever was next door had smuggled in a man and was getting a right royal seeing to.

Lucky bitch, thought Natalie. Her nipples stiffened. She pinched them hard and stifled a moan. She slid her hands down her body and dipped her fingers into her honey pot.

The woman’s moans got louder, more urgent. Natalie’s fingers worked frantically. She was so horny she ached. In no time, she came. She couldn’t stifle the resultant cries. The lovers next door must have heard. The sloshing of the water increased.

He was fucking her faster. They came noisily together.

Natalie took the time to recover and then got out of the bath. She pulled on her robe and opened the door at the same time as the other woman. “Oh, good evening, Matron. Have fun?”

Sunday, 18 April 2010

Six Sentence Sunday - “Lost & Found”

wp25674c25[1] I missed it last week as I was busy decorating the bedroom ready for my wife’s return home (yes, I am that nice a husband. Or maybe I just know what’s good for me). But #sixsunday returns to my blog today with six of the best from Lost & Found.

Lost & Found sees Chris Austins cross the Atlantic to comfort his cyber-lover in her hour of need. Unfortunately for them, Beth’s father isn’t quite as happy to see him.

You can buy Lost & Found direct from Phaze Books, for from your favourite e-book retailer and read a longer extract on my website.

Read other Six Sentence Sunday offerings via the blog.

The Colonel stood straight and tall, his hands behind his back. Chris could see the same suspicion in his eyes that had been there during their encounter the day before. His eyes narrowed. “I see.” His voice was so cold and quiet that it chilled Chris’s blood. “So it’s you who’s been putting these crazy ideas into Lizzie’s head, I should have known from the look of you when I first saw you.”

Thursday, 15 April 2010

The First Leaders Debate

I’ve just finished watching the first ever political leaders election debate on ITV. There’s two more left, one on Sky and one on the BBC. I thought I give you my thoughts. Not on the debate, but on the Twitter fall that went with it.

First off, Damn! So many tweets it was impossible to keep up. And I mean impossible. Apparently there were almost 30 tweets per second carrying the #leadersdebate hashtag. That’s a lot. Nearly 200,000 over the 90 minute debate. Picking your way through that lot was hard.

But I managed.

What struck me the most was way that those tweeters carrying a ‘twibbon’ on their avatar of one of the parties all seemed to think that their leader came out on top. No surprise there then. And they all seemed to think that the one they see as their main rival did badly. No surprise there then either.

It was interesting to see LibDem leader Nick Clegg was the leader featuring highest in the twitter trending topics. It was also interesting to see “I agree with Nick” as a trending topic – not because everyone on twitter did agree with Nick, but because Gordon said the phrase a number of times.

All good interesting stuff. Anyway, time for #bbcqt now.

Wednesday, 14 April 2010

An Open Letter to all those standing in the General Election

Every day since the Prime Minister called the General Election, I’ve arrived home from work to find my door mat littered with leaflets from all the leading parties and many of the minor ones, letters addressed to me personally from prominent members of the leading parties, and other election related bumpf.

I would ask, very politely, to please stop it. I don’t want or require your propaganda literature. I am an educated, thirty-five year old man. I am perfectly capable of listening to the political arguments, seeking out and reading your manifestos and weighing everything I hear, read and see against my own views, morals and beliefs, and then making an informed choice about my vote.

I understand that you think the majority of the Great British Public are not capable of this, but I must inform you that I very much am. As, I suspect, are most of the rest of us.

Frankly, the only election related item I want posted through my door arrived today, and that is my polling card.

So do yourselves a favour. Save yourselves some money. Save some paper – hell, you’re all always going on about saving the planet, here’s your chance to do just a little bit towards that goal. Stop pushing crap through my door!

Yes, I have been saying for many, many months that the country needs the renewal that an election would bring. That we need the debate it would bring. But tacky leaflets and letters telling me how the other parties would only make things worse are not debate. They are a waste of my time. All that happens to them is they go in the bin. Sorry, in the recycling.

If you want my vote, knock on my door and convince me. I’ll listen. I might not agree with you. We might actually enter into a debate. But I’ll listen.

I have been eligible to vote since 1997. That’s the last three elections. I have yet to have a conversation with a candidate, or even an ‘activist’. Why? I don’t know. You tell me. Perhaps my vote isn’t valuable enough.

Or maybe it’s because I work 9 to 5 and the canvassing stops just about when I get home. My vote clearly isn’t worth missing your dinner for.

If you want my vote, tell me what YOU would do to make things better, not how the others will only make it worse. I’m sorry, but the Labour Party’s argument for re-election seems to be “Sorry we stuffed up, but they’ll only make it worse.” At least the Tories and the Liberals seems to be saying “Give us a chance, we can’t be any worse than they were,” which is sort of optimistic in a pessimistic kind of way.

So, to all those standing in this election – in my constituency of Northampton North and beyond – come talk to me. Convince me you’re worthy of my cross in your box. I’m easy to reach. Knock on my door after six or tweet me at @marcnobbs. Let’s discuss. Let’s argue. Let’s talk about it over a nice cup of hot chocolate. But don’t ignore me. Don’t take me for granted. And don’t treat me like some idiotic half-breed incapable of rational thought.

Thank you for listening.

Yours faithfully

Marc Nobbs – registered voter.

Monday, 12 April 2010

Monday Morning Flash – “Accident Report”

A couple of weeks ago I posted one of my flash stories on this blog. At the time I suggested that I might post more, but circumstances beyond my control meant that I haven’t gotten around to it. So,I figured I really ought to. For the next few weeks, I’ll treat you to a Monday Morning Flash. If it proves popular, I’ll try and keep it up. I’ve got eighteen older flash stories already written, one of which I’ve already posted. That leaves seventeen. Seventeen weeks of Monday Morning Flashes. And who knows, I might even open up the feature to some guest authors.

This first one is special to me because it’s the very first story I ever had published – over at Ruthie’s Club. It wasn’t the first one accepted – that was the longer, Scratchedbut it was accepted soon after that and the publishing schedule meant it got released first.


Accident Report
(300 words)

Gem loved fast cars.

When we first met, I had a little MG-F roadster. It was one of the things that attracted her. On country roads, hitting fifty around the bends, her pleasure was etched all over her face. But we had a problem. The roadster had no back seat, and the front seats didn’t tip back. We made out this one time, at lover’s leap overlooking the town. We were desperate to go further, but the gear stick got in the way.

When I asked Gem to marry me, she agreed on the condition that I sold the MG and bought a car with a back seat. I went for a VW Golf GTi. The engine purred almost as sweetly as Gem. On the motorways, pulling at least eighty, Gem would slide her hand onto my leg and squeeze. I’d push down on the gas, and we’d top ninety. By the time her hand reached my crotch, we’d hit the ton.

When the children came along, we needed a bigger car. I made sure it still kicked ass. Gem would never have forgiven me if I hadn’t. BMW M5. Expensive and powerful. The back seat had more than enough room for the kids. It gave Gem and me plenty of space to have some fun, too.

For her fiftieth birthday, I treated her to a proper sports car. An Aston Martin BD7 convertible. Gem was a James Bond fan. In the country one summer afternoon, Gem caressed her gear knob as I eased through the bends. I’m sure she stained the leather seats. I tried valiantly to keep my eyes on the road. She leaned over, unzipped, and went down on me.

The newspaper report hangs on our bedroom wall. The headline reads: Distracted Driver Destroys Historic Tree.

Monday, 5 April 2010

So, Where’d you Go?

You may (or indeed, may not) have noticed that I didn’t blog at all last week. I mentioned in yesterday’s Six Sentence Sunday post that I had my reasons and I did. One reason. Quite a personal one. I’m not going to elaborate because, quite frankly, it’s nobody’s business but mine and my family’s, but suffice to say it was a very, very good reason which kept me out of the country and away from my laptop.

But I’m back home now and ready for more.

I did manage to write another couple chapters of my WIP – both while I was on the ferry across the channel. That was a weird experience, writing and looking up every so often to see if anyone could tell I’m writing dirty stories. I don’t think anyone did, but I couldn’t really tell.

Coming back on Saturday was particularly awkward. Normally when I cross the channel I use SeaFrance. I like the boats, they are comfortable and atmospheric. There’s a very continental ambiance about them. There’s also tons and tons of space. Not just in the lounges and bars but there are seats in little hideaway places all over the boat. Crossing to France I was able to find a seat – with a table – looking out of the nearby window at the sea whenever I needed to collect my thoughts before continuing to type.

On the return the SeaFrance workers were on strike and so I was bumped onto a P&O boat. It was horrible. Mass Market, down market, I felt like I was part of a herd of cattle rounded up on this vessel – as many of us crammed into the space as they could get. No ambiance, the atmosphere was… not pleasant. Rather than a seat in a hideaway with a table and looking out at sea, the only place I could find to sit was in the ‘lounge’ – rows and rows of seats next to each other.

I imagine the difference is a bit like flying on Ryanair as opposed to First Class with BA. I don’t think that’s all that far off given that P&O actually have a first class lounge (which you naturally have to pay extra for and because I’d been transferred from the rival company, they wouldn’t let me) whereas SeaFrance don’t and the P&O first class lounge looked a lot like the ‘normal’ lounge on the SeaFrance boats.

To be honest, I felt a little bit dirty after getting off the P&O boat. I know that makes me sound a bit snobbish, but I don’t care. If wanting to travel on a nice boat with a nice atmosphere makes me snobbish, then I’m snobbish.

The weird thing is that I’ve always found SeaFrace to be as cheap, and sometimes cheaper, than P&O. Given that, why would anyone choose to travel on P&O? Perhaps it can be summed up by someone I overheard as they were queuing to get in the cafeteria. “Oh, thank God, they’ve got English food!”

I despair. I really do.

Sunday, 4 April 2010

Six Sentence Sunday 04/04/2010

Kissed by a Rose I know I haven’t been around this week, and there are reasons for that I might explain later, but I’m back for Six Sentence Sunday. My six this week again come from my impending print release, Kissed by a Rose, which you can get in digital formats now if you can’t wait for the print copy or just prefer you book digitally anyway.

Here we go…

“Upset? You don’t think I’m all that upset. You haven’t got the first fucking clue, have you? You’ve got no fucking idea at all how I’m feeling. Look, just because I’m not crying my eyes out, drowning myself in ice cream or threatening to throw myself off Central Pier, doesn’t mean I'm not all that upset.” He took a deep, calming breath.

I didn’t mention it last week when I should have, but you can read other Six Sentence Sunday posts by checking out the main blog.


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