Publication news! (Not erotica this time)
I came across Teika Bellamy's The Forgotten and the Fantastical anthology series when I met her at a FantasyCon, and I knew straight away I wanted to write for it. These are collections of fairy stories; some re-workings of old tales, some entirely original. Some are dark, some are lyrical, and many - but not all - are about women and/or motherhood (a particular focus of the imprint, Mother's Milk Books). I read three volumes and was impressed by the exceptional quality of each collection. And they have BEAUTIFUL covers!
So I wrote My Son, My Daughter, a story about a desperate but clever mother who is about to lose her firstborn to the fairies unless she works a way out of it. It riffs off the traditional Northumbrian story of My Ainsel.
If you pre-order TF&TF#5 direct from the publisher, you get £1 off the list price!
I'm a writer of erotic fiction, mostly of a paranormal/fantasy bent. Welcome to my Blog! Adults only please ... you know the drill. All commenters welcome. All text copyright Janine Ashbless unless otherwise stated.
Thursday, 19 September 2019
Monday, 16 September 2019
Blue Monday: Checkout Girl
Every Monday for the last few months I've posted an excerpt from one of the stories in Lust in the Dust.
Now we've reached the very last one! Checkout Girl by Quiet Ranger is a fitting end to the book: romantic, surreal and emotionally wrenching. Boy meets synesthesic cyborg half-girl...
She tentatively reached out and stroked his damp hair. He closed his eyes and in his imagination saw wires plugged into flesh. Tubes feeding and removing unknown matter. He jerked back from her touch, a hand left wavering between them. Her smile faded, she looked like she might cry and when she spoke her voice was low.
“I’m not a monster.”
He felt like a monster himself. She had been nothing but friendly ever since he got here. “I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re not a monster.” He searched for the right thing to say and came up empty so instead just told the truth. “You’re the first person I’ve met in years and I’m so glad I found you.”
She tried again, hesitantly slipping her hand into his. He leaned closer and when she didn’t try to avoid him he kissed her. Lightly. Tenderly. She sighed into his mouth and brought her arms around him. Fingers digging into his back. They kissed long and hard and for the first time in years he forgot about grief and hardship and fear, and lost himself in the scent and taste of her. She drew back and he was concerned he had somehow crossed a boundary.
“Is this OK?”
“God, yes! It's been so long. Um… I’m sorry if this sounds weird, but… would you feed me another peach?”
He fished the last piece out of the tin and with now clean hands offered it to her. Eyes moist and shining, she took it and his fingers into her mouth. Greedily sucking as the sweet fruit slid down her throat, and keeping eye contact all the while. She continued staring hungrily as he withdrew his fingers, now completely free of juice. Her hands gently tugged the jacket away and caressed his hips. Her nails traced their way over his lower stomach, brushing him in a tantalising motion. Moving ever nearer towards his stiffening cock. She lazily tangled her fingertips into his pubic hair, and he saw her eyes fill with delight at the way his breathing quickened, the more she toyed with him. He was flushed and moaning. Wanting… no, needing more, but without the courage to ask for it. Finally she took pity on him and squeezed the base of his straining erection. He inhaled sharply and slammed his palms down flat either side of himself, fearing he might lose his balance.
“Look at me, Michael.”
He obeyed, his eyes widening and his breathing increasing as she drew her fingers tightly up towards the tip, then back again. She became gentle and stroked him in a languid, unhurried motion that quickly drove him to distraction. He reached tentatively for her top and she helped him remove it, then blushed deeply as he ran his hands over her breasts, trapping her nipples between his fingers, feeling them stiffen.
“Kneel up,” she said hoarsely and he hurried to comply. She guided him into her mouth and began to work him, sucking hard and running her tongue in circles until he felt giddy, all the while making muffled noises of pleasure as if she were at a banquet. In no time at all he was coming — and at the same time the till began to behave in a very erratic manner. Numerals flashed across the display too fast to read. The cash drawer slammed open with a ding. Claire seemed to convulse and a flurry of coupons were spat into the air and rained down about them.
Buy Lust in the Dust:
Now we've reached the very last one! Checkout Girl by Quiet Ranger is a fitting end to the book: romantic, surreal and emotionally wrenching. Boy meets synesthesic cyborg half-girl...
She tentatively reached out and stroked his damp hair. He closed his eyes and in his imagination saw wires plugged into flesh. Tubes feeding and removing unknown matter. He jerked back from her touch, a hand left wavering between them. Her smile faded, she looked like she might cry and when she spoke her voice was low.
“I’m not a monster.”
He felt like a monster himself. She had been nothing but friendly ever since he got here. “I’m sorry. You’re right, you’re not a monster.” He searched for the right thing to say and came up empty so instead just told the truth. “You’re the first person I’ve met in years and I’m so glad I found you.”
She tried again, hesitantly slipping her hand into his. He leaned closer and when she didn’t try to avoid him he kissed her. Lightly. Tenderly. She sighed into his mouth and brought her arms around him. Fingers digging into his back. They kissed long and hard and for the first time in years he forgot about grief and hardship and fear, and lost himself in the scent and taste of her. She drew back and he was concerned he had somehow crossed a boundary.
“Is this OK?”
“God, yes! It's been so long. Um… I’m sorry if this sounds weird, but… would you feed me another peach?”
He fished the last piece out of the tin and with now clean hands offered it to her. Eyes moist and shining, she took it and his fingers into her mouth. Greedily sucking as the sweet fruit slid down her throat, and keeping eye contact all the while. She continued staring hungrily as he withdrew his fingers, now completely free of juice. Her hands gently tugged the jacket away and caressed his hips. Her nails traced their way over his lower stomach, brushing him in a tantalising motion. Moving ever nearer towards his stiffening cock. She lazily tangled her fingertips into his pubic hair, and he saw her eyes fill with delight at the way his breathing quickened, the more she toyed with him. He was flushed and moaning. Wanting… no, needing more, but without the courage to ask for it. Finally she took pity on him and squeezed the base of his straining erection. He inhaled sharply and slammed his palms down flat either side of himself, fearing he might lose his balance.
“Look at me, Michael.”
He obeyed, his eyes widening and his breathing increasing as she drew her fingers tightly up towards the tip, then back again. She became gentle and stroked him in a languid, unhurried motion that quickly drove him to distraction. He reached tentatively for her top and she helped him remove it, then blushed deeply as he ran his hands over her breasts, trapping her nipples between his fingers, feeling them stiffen.
“Kneel up,” she said hoarsely and he hurried to comply. She guided him into her mouth and began to work him, sucking hard and running her tongue in circles until he felt giddy, all the while making muffled noises of pleasure as if she were at a banquet. In no time at all he was coming — and at the same time the till began to behave in a very erratic manner. Numerals flashed across the display too fast to read. The cash drawer slammed open with a ding. Claire seemed to convulse and a flurry of coupons were spat into the air and rained down about them.
Buy Lust in the Dust:
It's the end of the world as we know it.
Peace and plenty are ideals barely remembered. Everything we used to rely upon has crumbled away, and pleasure is something few can afford. Every joy has to be fought for. When all the trappings of a civilised life are taken away, all we can hope to truly call our own are our bodies and our hearts. In the ashes, we make alliances where we can, and find solace and humanity in unexpected places. And maybe even a little hope for the future…
Lust in the Dust brings together ten erotic short stories set in times where civilisation and the rule of law have crashed and burned. The aftermath of a terrible war, a zombie invasion, a cityscape over-run by nature, a medieval fortress. Wherever there is life, there is lust.
Edited by Janine Ashbless - with stories by S. Nano, Elizabeth Coldwell, Raven Sky, Sommer Marsden, Cara Thereon, Jones, Gregory L. Norris, Nicole Wolfe, Janine Ashbless, Quiet Ranger.
Peace and plenty are ideals barely remembered. Everything we used to rely upon has crumbled away, and pleasure is something few can afford. Every joy has to be fought for. When all the trappings of a civilised life are taken away, all we can hope to truly call our own are our bodies and our hearts. In the ashes, we make alliances where we can, and find solace and humanity in unexpected places. And maybe even a little hope for the future…
Lust in the Dust brings together ten erotic short stories set in times where civilisation and the rule of law have crashed and burned. The aftermath of a terrible war, a zombie invasion, a cityscape over-run by nature, a medieval fortress. Wherever there is life, there is lust.
Edited by Janine Ashbless - with stories by S. Nano, Elizabeth Coldwell, Raven Sky, Sommer Marsden, Cara Thereon, Jones, Gregory L. Norris, Nicole Wolfe, Janine Ashbless, Quiet Ranger.
Friday, 13 September 2019
A time to reap, a time to sow
New toy! It's a hedge-trimmer on a stick 😍
And today these arrived...
I reckon that's about 350 bulbs to plant. OMG!
That'll keep me busy ... especially as I have to prep the whole bed first. That's a lot of compost to dig in!
And today these arrived...
I reckon that's about 350 bulbs to plant. OMG!
That'll keep me busy ... especially as I have to prep the whole bed first. That's a lot of compost to dig in!
Monday, 9 September 2019
Blue Monday: The Basque of the Red Death
Every Monday I'll be posting an excerpt from one of the stories in Lust in the Dust.
The Basque of the Red Death is my own story contribution to the anthology. Okay, I'll just apologise for the terrible pun in the title now, and promise you a dark Poe-etic story of class-based biological warfare...
"Take me with you, my lord!" I begged, when it became obvious that the whole palace was in a frenzy of packing. He stood in his room surveying the spilled contents of his wardrobe. "Don't leave me here to the Red Death!"
Prince Prospero looked surprised at my plea. We'd hardly ever exchanged more than a few words. I was nothing but the gardener's boy after all; my most significant tasks were looking after the pigeons in their cote and carrying daily baskets of firewood up the many stairs to the hearths in the royal chambers. "Why should I take you, lad?" he asked; not harsh, but genuinely perplexed.
On the other hand, I've a strong young body and a pleasing face, and servants gossip. They know things they shouldn't. I took my chance and dropped to my knees before him, laying a hand upon his breeches.
Prospero shivered like a fly-struck horse and made a little noise in his throat.
"Please," I whispered, my mouth so close to his crotch that he must have felt the wet heat of my breath through the wool. "Let me do this." My fingers plucked at the ties of his garment, and he did not try to stop me. Of course such things are forbidden by Holy Writ and the law of the land alike, but what did I have to lose?
The royal cock popped out, half-hard already, into the eager embrace of my hand and lips. My prince was not at all badly wrought, I noted, as I fell to feasting on the swell of his helm. His privy hair was trimmed and perfumed and the girth of his shaft full enough, within a few moments, to be pleasing to my mouth. I'd always choose a thick cock over a long one, but it turned out that Prince Prospero was well-enough endowed in both categories to leave little room for criticism. Or indeed, breath. And I doubt that he had cause for complaint either—could he have ever had a server more motivated to please?
In other circumstances I might have enjoyed the rush of blood to my own pizzle and given it a sly fondle whilst I slurped, but the stakes were too high this time. Besides, we were in a fearful hurry—any other servant might walk in on us. So I applied myself with single-minded eagerness to his pleasure, sucking him deep into my throat. Prospero sank his fingers in my unruly brown locks and pulled my head close, grunting a little under his breath, and I had to grasp his thighs to steady his stance as he rose up on the balls of his feet; I could feel the hard slabs of muscle working beneath my palms as he thrust. That felt good, and his royal sceptre plundering my mouth felt better.
Yes, my prince. Give me your hard strong cock. Fill my throat. Fuck this poor gardener's boy like he wants, like he needs. Show him how a prince uses his weapon. Now, now, now.
When he erupted forth I made sure to take some down the wrong way and choke a little, in compliment to his munificence. My streaming eyes lifted to his as he withdrew.
He cleared his throat, tucking the royal jewels out of sight. "What's your name, boy?"
"Jakob, my lord." I wiped his aristocratic seed from the corner of my lips with the back of my hand.
"Well, you're a fine lad. Go pack your things; we leave after Vespers."
Buy Lust in the Dust:
The Basque of the Red Death is my own story contribution to the anthology. Okay, I'll just apologise for the terrible pun in the title now, and promise you a dark Poe-etic story of class-based biological warfare...
"Take me with you, my lord!" I begged, when it became obvious that the whole palace was in a frenzy of packing. He stood in his room surveying the spilled contents of his wardrobe. "Don't leave me here to the Red Death!"
Prince Prospero looked surprised at my plea. We'd hardly ever exchanged more than a few words. I was nothing but the gardener's boy after all; my most significant tasks were looking after the pigeons in their cote and carrying daily baskets of firewood up the many stairs to the hearths in the royal chambers. "Why should I take you, lad?" he asked; not harsh, but genuinely perplexed.
On the other hand, I've a strong young body and a pleasing face, and servants gossip. They know things they shouldn't. I took my chance and dropped to my knees before him, laying a hand upon his breeches.
Prospero shivered like a fly-struck horse and made a little noise in his throat.
"Please," I whispered, my mouth so close to his crotch that he must have felt the wet heat of my breath through the wool. "Let me do this." My fingers plucked at the ties of his garment, and he did not try to stop me. Of course such things are forbidden by Holy Writ and the law of the land alike, but what did I have to lose?
The royal cock popped out, half-hard already, into the eager embrace of my hand and lips. My prince was not at all badly wrought, I noted, as I fell to feasting on the swell of his helm. His privy hair was trimmed and perfumed and the girth of his shaft full enough, within a few moments, to be pleasing to my mouth. I'd always choose a thick cock over a long one, but it turned out that Prince Prospero was well-enough endowed in both categories to leave little room for criticism. Or indeed, breath. And I doubt that he had cause for complaint either—could he have ever had a server more motivated to please?
In other circumstances I might have enjoyed the rush of blood to my own pizzle and given it a sly fondle whilst I slurped, but the stakes were too high this time. Besides, we were in a fearful hurry—any other servant might walk in on us. So I applied myself with single-minded eagerness to his pleasure, sucking him deep into my throat. Prospero sank his fingers in my unruly brown locks and pulled my head close, grunting a little under his breath, and I had to grasp his thighs to steady his stance as he rose up on the balls of his feet; I could feel the hard slabs of muscle working beneath my palms as he thrust. That felt good, and his royal sceptre plundering my mouth felt better.
Yes, my prince. Give me your hard strong cock. Fill my throat. Fuck this poor gardener's boy like he wants, like he needs. Show him how a prince uses his weapon. Now, now, now.
When he erupted forth I made sure to take some down the wrong way and choke a little, in compliment to his munificence. My streaming eyes lifted to his as he withdrew.
He cleared his throat, tucking the royal jewels out of sight. "What's your name, boy?"
"Jakob, my lord." I wiped his aristocratic seed from the corner of my lips with the back of my hand.
"Well, you're a fine lad. Go pack your things; we leave after Vespers."
Buy Lust in the Dust:
It's the end of the world as we know it.
Peace and plenty are ideals barely remembered. Everything we used to rely upon has crumbled away, and pleasure is something few can afford. Every joy has to be fought for. When all the trappings of a civilised life are taken away, all we can hope to truly call our own are our bodies and our hearts. In the ashes, we make alliances where we can, and find solace and humanity in unexpected places. And maybe even a little hope for the future…
Lust in the Dust brings together ten erotic short stories set in times where civilisation and the rule of law have crashed and burned. The aftermath of a terrible war, a zombie invasion, a cityscape over-run by nature, a medieval fortress. Wherever there is life, there is lust.
Edited by Janine Ashbless - with stories by S. Nano, Elizabeth Coldwell, Raven Sky, Sommer Marsden, Cara Thereon, Jones, Gregory L. Norris, Nicole Wolfe, Janine Ashbless, Quiet Ranger.
Peace and plenty are ideals barely remembered. Everything we used to rely upon has crumbled away, and pleasure is something few can afford. Every joy has to be fought for. When all the trappings of a civilised life are taken away, all we can hope to truly call our own are our bodies and our hearts. In the ashes, we make alliances where we can, and find solace and humanity in unexpected places. And maybe even a little hope for the future…
Lust in the Dust brings together ten erotic short stories set in times where civilisation and the rule of law have crashed and burned. The aftermath of a terrible war, a zombie invasion, a cityscape over-run by nature, a medieval fortress. Wherever there is life, there is lust.
Edited by Janine Ashbless - with stories by S. Nano, Elizabeth Coldwell, Raven Sky, Sommer Marsden, Cara Thereon, Jones, Gregory L. Norris, Nicole Wolfe, Janine Ashbless, Quiet Ranger.
Friday, 6 September 2019
Sins of the past
I'm not doing much writing these days but it's lovely when past naughtiness catches me up! My contributor copy of Dirty 30 Vol.3 (which contains my short Western story Sourdough) has arrived and I 💖 it!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to editor extraordinaire Rose Caraway!
Why am I not writing erotica at moment?
- I'm transforming my garden
- I'm putting a lot of creative effort into a LARP I'm running next year
- The general state of politics, society and the world has, I'm afraid, caused my misanthropy to entirely overwhelm my desire to tell stories. All the above activities feel like fiddling while Rome burns, yes, but at least I don't have to think about Rome while I'm doing them.
Maybe things will change ... I do hope so.
Monday, 2 September 2019
Blue Monday: Better Than Therapy
Every Monday I'll be posting an excerpt from one of the stories in Lust in the Dust.
Better Than Therapy by Nicole Wolfe is an OMG bitter-dark zombie comedy with a clever twist. What can I say? It made me laugh, so maybe I'm just evil...
My zombie ex-boss burst into the kitchen, so I shot him through the head. I’m fairly certain he was a zombie, at least. Andrea chose that time to collapse. I rolled her onto her back and saw her lips were blue and a weird, gray fog had filled her eyes. I picked her up by the shoulders and she latched onto my arms. She made a weird slack-jawed sound that was half-hungry and half-pleading. She was too weak to overpower me, so I locked her in the kitchen’s walk-in freezer.
I found the hotel’s maintenance men barricaded in the boiler room. Most of the housekeeping staff had fled back to their families, half the restaurant staff had stayed, and nearly all the guests had run out and been eaten. The smart ones stayed in their rooms. I convinced the maintenance crew, Dick the bartender, and a guest who happened to be an Air Force sergeant to help me clear the hotel of zombies. It took us the rest of the night, but we did it and shared top-shelf drinks afterwards.
I took the top floor suite with the sauna as mine. I brought Andrea there after everyone else had collapsed from exhaustion or drunkenness. I wanted one last night with her. We hadn’t spent much time together in the last few months and I wanted to tell her everything I’d been afraid to tell her before. I doubted her brain could process my words by now, but I knew I had to get it out of me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to move on, or put a bullet in her head, if I didn’t.
I tied her hands behind her back with a belt from a complimentary bathrobe so she couldn’t grab me. She didn’t resist, and it was easy because she was even more lethargic from being in the freezer for hours. The trickiest part was stuffing a washcloth in her mouth so she couldn’t bite me. After that, she leaned stiff as a board against the desk and moaned with her mouth full of terrycloth.
She looked pretty all tied up and gagged. I’d fantasized about tying her up many times, but I knew she’d laugh at the idea. Now she was all mine to have however I wanted. Her lover was a headless corpse. It was just us. I had planned to shoot her after I told her all the stuff that had been on my mind for months, but I couldn’t do that now. She was all I had, and all I wanted.
I caressed her face and she tried to reach my fingers with her mouth. I jerked my hand away, even though the gag kept her from biting me. I couldn’t risk infection. I wanted to celebrate our reunion in bed, but there was no way to do it without exposing myself. I had no condoms or latex gloves. It was our first romantic night together in a long time, and we couldn’t do anything...
Buy Lust in the Dust:
Better Than Therapy by Nicole Wolfe is an OMG bitter-dark zombie comedy with a clever twist. What can I say? It made me laugh, so maybe I'm just evil...
My zombie ex-boss burst into the kitchen, so I shot him through the head. I’m fairly certain he was a zombie, at least. Andrea chose that time to collapse. I rolled her onto her back and saw her lips were blue and a weird, gray fog had filled her eyes. I picked her up by the shoulders and she latched onto my arms. She made a weird slack-jawed sound that was half-hungry and half-pleading. She was too weak to overpower me, so I locked her in the kitchen’s walk-in freezer.
I found the hotel’s maintenance men barricaded in the boiler room. Most of the housekeeping staff had fled back to their families, half the restaurant staff had stayed, and nearly all the guests had run out and been eaten. The smart ones stayed in their rooms. I convinced the maintenance crew, Dick the bartender, and a guest who happened to be an Air Force sergeant to help me clear the hotel of zombies. It took us the rest of the night, but we did it and shared top-shelf drinks afterwards.
I took the top floor suite with the sauna as mine. I brought Andrea there after everyone else had collapsed from exhaustion or drunkenness. I wanted one last night with her. We hadn’t spent much time together in the last few months and I wanted to tell her everything I’d been afraid to tell her before. I doubted her brain could process my words by now, but I knew I had to get it out of me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to move on, or put a bullet in her head, if I didn’t.
I tied her hands behind her back with a belt from a complimentary bathrobe so she couldn’t grab me. She didn’t resist, and it was easy because she was even more lethargic from being in the freezer for hours. The trickiest part was stuffing a washcloth in her mouth so she couldn’t bite me. After that, she leaned stiff as a board against the desk and moaned with her mouth full of terrycloth.
She looked pretty all tied up and gagged. I’d fantasized about tying her up many times, but I knew she’d laugh at the idea. Now she was all mine to have however I wanted. Her lover was a headless corpse. It was just us. I had planned to shoot her after I told her all the stuff that had been on my mind for months, but I couldn’t do that now. She was all I had, and all I wanted.
I caressed her face and she tried to reach my fingers with her mouth. I jerked my hand away, even though the gag kept her from biting me. I couldn’t risk infection. I wanted to celebrate our reunion in bed, but there was no way to do it without exposing myself. I had no condoms or latex gloves. It was our first romantic night together in a long time, and we couldn’t do anything...
Buy Lust in the Dust:
It's the end of the world as we know it.
Peace and plenty are ideals barely remembered. Everything we used to rely upon has crumbled away, and pleasure is something few can afford. Every joy has to be fought for. When all the trappings of a civilised life are taken away, all we can hope to truly call our own are our bodies and our hearts. In the ashes, we make alliances where we can, and find solace and humanity in unexpected places. And maybe even a little hope for the future…
Lust in the Dust brings together ten erotic short stories set in times where civilisation and the rule of law have crashed and burned. The aftermath of a terrible war, a zombie invasion, a cityscape over-run by nature, a medieval fortress. Wherever there is life, there is lust.
Edited by Janine Ashbless - with stories by S. Nano, Elizabeth Coldwell, Raven Sky, Sommer Marsden, Cara Thereon, Jones, Gregory L. Norris, Nicole Wolfe, Janine Ashbless, Quiet Ranger.
Peace and plenty are ideals barely remembered. Everything we used to rely upon has crumbled away, and pleasure is something few can afford. Every joy has to be fought for. When all the trappings of a civilised life are taken away, all we can hope to truly call our own are our bodies and our hearts. In the ashes, we make alliances where we can, and find solace and humanity in unexpected places. And maybe even a little hope for the future…
Lust in the Dust brings together ten erotic short stories set in times where civilisation and the rule of law have crashed and burned. The aftermath of a terrible war, a zombie invasion, a cityscape over-run by nature, a medieval fortress. Wherever there is life, there is lust.
Edited by Janine Ashbless - with stories by S. Nano, Elizabeth Coldwell, Raven Sky, Sommer Marsden, Cara Thereon, Jones, Gregory L. Norris, Nicole Wolfe, Janine Ashbless, Quiet Ranger.
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