Sunday, 30 September 2012


September 30th is International Blasphemy Day.

Which makes it sorta apposite that I went to see the new arena production of Jesus Christ Superstar at the weekend - which I enjoyed hugely, btw. Because when the musical was first staged on Broadway it was loudly condemned by Christians as offensive and blasphemous. Written without reference to the Resurrection, the two principal characters - Jesus and Judas - are portrayed as the only really sympathetic well-rounded people, and they're locked together in a self-destructive trajectory. Everyone else is either self-serving or sheep-like. Poor old Jesus himself is played as very human, worn-out, quite neurotic . . . and ultimately thoroughly fucked-over by everyone, including his God.

In song.

Even this week a production in Russia was closed down after protests from the Orthodox Church. Funnily enough, in the UK nowadays it's far more likely to be seen by Christians as an evangelising tool and a positive thing ...
People. They're just fucking weird.

Blasphemy. Yes, it's rude and mean and hurtful. It can cause enormous trouble.


Completely beyond irony

And in this world, blasphemy is not only unavoidable, it is utterly fucking necessary.

Quote by George Orwell.

Friday, 28 September 2012

Excerpt: Pussy Hunt

Lookee here! A brand new anthology out from Mischief Books. My Boyfriend's Boyfriends: a collection of greedy girl stories (their titles are getting longer every time, I swear) is full of filthy fun concerning women who aren't satisfied by just one guy at a time. So, basically, one of my FAVOURITE themes! And for only £0.99! (Or $1.64 if you are of an American persuasion.)

My own story is called Pussy Hunt and it's about a woman who challenges seven (yes, seven!) ex-Special Forces dudes to a woodland widegame.  I think she may be hoping to lose. There's an excerpt below...

The full author line-up, by the way, is as follows:

Proving Them Wrong - Primula Bond
Pussy Hunt - Janine Ashbless
Red Room - Lisette Ashton
Everybody's Favourite - Penny Birch
For Better . . . Or Better Yet - Chrissie Bentley
A Taste for Cheating - Heather Towne
Secrets and Seductions - Kathleen Tudor
The Overnighter - Elizabeth Coldwell
Anything She Wants - Giselle Renarde
The Proposal - Dominic Santi

And now I'm off to - ahem - catch  up on my reading :-)

‘Stay in the car for the moment,’ says Dane, opening the driver’s door.
I obey, watching as he walks out around the front, greeting the others. Ours isn’t the only Land Rover parked here in the trees and, like Dane, the other men are all dressed in camouflage greens. It’s momentarily hard to tell everyone apart. I squint through the windscreen, trying to identify faces I’ve only really seen in photos. There’s Lewis – I remember him from his daughter’s wedding. That was almost my first weekend away with Dane, over a year ago now. And that blond guy – he looks familiar. I think he was the one who sang karaoke to Nickleback’s ‘Rockstar’ at the reception.  But it was all a bit of a blur then, and I’d only had eyes for Dane at the time. If the others were at the wedding, I don’t remember.
They’re grasping hands, and thumping each other on the back, and sharing cigarettes. My mouth is dry, but I can feel myself sweating a little. My heart’s running fast. I thrust my hands down between my thighs and feel the warmth there. I clench my thigh muscles rhythmically, because there’s nothing else I can do for my nerves.
I’m not sure which scares me more: the thought of them saying Yes, or the possibility they might reject me.
Then Dane half-turns, and beckons me out.

I step from the car and the smell of the summer woodland hits me, along with the sound of birdsong. I feel ungainly as I walk forward, into what has become a semi-circle of men turning to watch. I should slink seductively, but I’m too tense. I lick my lips, wrecking the scarlet lipstick I’ve painted on so carefully.
They’re all remarkably similar-looking, in their military get-up. Big, tough looking men. They haven’t let themselves go, though most have been retired from active duty for ten years or so, like Dane. He runs a military fitness business now, honing soft managerial types and skinny wannabe-toughguy youths. He works hard and makes lots of money. And every six months he drives up to the Lake District to meet up with his old comrades in a bit of private woodland, and they shoot the crap out of each other with paintballs, and piss lager into bonfires, and smoke themselves cross-eyed.

So to some extent they all look like him: weathered, fortyish, high foreheads, lined about the eyes, deep notches forming like bookends around their mouths. I don’t mind that. I’ve always liked older men. Dane’s got fifteen years on me and a lifetime of experiences he won’t discuss, but that just makes him more interesting as far as I’m concerned. He’s like a puzzle box of nested secrets.   
I see all those open, smiling faces close up, becoming guarded.
‘Zadie,’ grunts Lewis, with a tiny nod of his head. I’m surprised he remembers me, but at least it’s an acknowledgement, albeit a reluctant one.
‘Meet the boys, Zadie.’ Dane drops an arm around my shoulders and rattles off a list of names, but I’m not able to take them in. Or meet the guys’ eyes. 
‘Hey,’ I mutter. 
The ginger one isn’t as polite. ‘Come on, Dane,’ he complains, grinding out his cigarette end. ‘No wives, no girlfriends – you know the rules.’
‘Fuck off, Dec,’ says Dane amiably. ‘It’s my turn to set the Game. Well, this is it. We’re going on a Pussy Hunt.’
There’s absolute silence for a moment. I feel six pairs of locked on me like sniper scopes.
‘Huh,’ says someone.
‘What sort . . ?’
‘A Pussy Hunt,’ he repeats. ‘A proper one. I reckon we give her twenty minutes head start. She’s pretty good across rough country. The first man to catch her – or the last man standing – gets her pussy.’
Someone snorts. Slow grins break across those hard faces.
‘Shit . . .’
‘You dirty bastard, Dane.’
‘Whose idea was that?’ asks Lewis, mildly incredulous.
He lifts an open hand to me. ‘Hers.’
That’s not exactly true.

Buy at Mischief Books : Amazon US (Kindle) : Amazon UK (Kindle)

Wednesday, 26 September 2012

"Hello, Nerds of London!"

I went to church last week :-)

Okay ... so I went to the Union Chapel in London (which is a working church, among other things). It was the most beautiful setting - Victorian Gothic, octagonal, and we all sat in pews - in which to see the Gods of Musical Geekdom play live. And I had the most fabulously nerdy night!

The support band was Paul and Storm - the close-harmony duo who gave the world the George RR Martin song "Write Like the Wind" - which is apparently part of an ever-growing epic cycle of songs addressed to people called George. They are also famous for what is possibly the silliest song about pirates in the history of civilisation.

And they have now added the concept of Floor Candy to my mental lexicon, for which I am ... not entirely grateful. But I love 'em. Aaaaaar.

Then after Paul and Storm came ...

... Jonathan Coulton! Yes, the "Code Monkey" guy! Squeeeeeeee! Uber-geek!

Coulton does nerdy, funny songs too - but he also specialises in romantic, melancholy songs about unrequited love, usually from the point of view of things that aren't very loveable ... Krakens, The Moon of Pluto, computer progammers, mad scientists ... The sort of songs that leave you feeling moved, but also really glad the protagonist isn't within several thousand miles of you or your home.

"Isn't it enough to know I ruined a pony making a gift for you?"

What a great evening, in a great setting!
And in case you think there isn't enough sex in this post, here's a Coulton song with extra ASL:


BTW, and talking about geeks and sexy ... there's only a DAY LEFT on the Geek Love Kickstarter!
If you haven't joined in yet, or you want to be sure of getting one of the limited-print-run HARDBACKS, please go pledge!

Sunday, 23 September 2012

Friday, 21 September 2012

Good stone that

Have you seen the second trailer for The Hobbit, just released? It's not quite as good as the first one, to my mind, because there's no Dwarven singing going on, but I'm still all a-wibble with anticipation.

After all, if these two Dwarves turned up my doorstep, I'd bloody follow them anywhere.

Fili and Kili. Or the other way round. Doesn't matter - they come as a pair ;-)
And I really don't think I'd say no to this one either...


Dwarves have suddenly become sexy! Well, some of them...

Wednesday, 19 September 2012

News (in briefs)

Good morning, and here is the news, brought to you live from our studio in some guy's boxers ...

I was guest host for an Erotica Readers and Writers Association webchat last Saturday, and we managed to break all their records for the sheer length of time we rabbited on. Subjects ranged from fantasy heroes to Aisling's parrots to a super sekret glimpse of my next project... and you can find the transcript here if you're interested.

I'm going to be the ERWA Guest Author of the month in NOVEMBER! Wheeeee! That means three of my favourite short stories will go up for you to read in their entirety.  You can find the current featured author (it's the mighty Craig Sorensen for September) here.

Two more rave reviews for Named and Shamed have come in...

The first is from Vanessa Wu, who starts off with
"I was a little intimidated by this book to tell you the truth"

and concludes
"The warning on the cover is for once entirely justified"
but, fortunately for me, manages to be humorous and enthusiastic in between!
 Full review here

And the second is over at BDSM Book Reviews, which describes it as
"the most amazing book that has graced my e-book reader in a long time" 
and gives it 5/5 for both story and kink, but also warns BDSM fans(!!)
"if you like a sweet and pleasant BDSM read with nothing shocking in it, you might give this one a miss"
... which just cracked me up.
I may shock BDSM fans? Cool!

Full review here

Thank you Vanessa and Janny!

Monday, 17 September 2012

Eyecandy Monday

Oh, for a barcode-reader on my tongue..

I'm up to my neck reading submissions for Geek Love. We've got a LOT, and some of them will just knock your socks off when you see the finished book. Cyberpunk, steampunk, fantasy, SF, nerdworld, historical, manga, fairytales... My head is buzzing.
I'd like to be able to download them direct to my brain in my sleep!
I'd like to be able to do some of the things in the stories!
I'd like to have 48 hours in a day!

Friday, 14 September 2012

Herbert Draper

The Gates of Dawn (1900)

This. This is just awesome.

As I'm on a Fantasy theme this week, what with Thrones of Desire and my upcoming webchat this Saturday for the ERWA (all welcome!), I'm going to rave about Victorian artist Herbert James Draper (1863-1920). Because, before there was Fantasy Art, there was just Art, and that was allowed to include goddesses, mythological beings and nymphs.

Talking of nymphs, Draper's art has made previous appearances in my posts on Naiads and Nereids ...

Ulysses and the Sirens
And a tremendous depiction of the fallen Icarus:

The Lament for Icarus (1898)
This is a sketch study for the picture above:

And another study ... I'm not sure I even need colour to fall in love with his nudes!

Some of his stuff did veer dangerously close to the cheesy...

Sea Melodies

But I think he mostly managed to be charming (and a bit naughty) without being too bland:

The Capture

D'you think she's going to drown the kid?

The Pearls of Aphrodite

The Kelpie

And sometimes he was downright dark in his eroticism:

The Lamia (1909)

The Lamia is a man-devouring serpent-woman - note her snakeskin

Ariadne - the protag of my story The Red Thread, btw, was taken away by Theseus after he had used her to kill the Minotaur and escape the Labyrinth. The bastard then marooned her on the uninhabited island of Naxos, the moment depicted in this picture.

Clyties of the Mists (1912) (detail)

 I really don't know the story behind this, but it looks unhappy and intriguing! (It's been suggested that these are mist-spirits who love the sun but are destroyed by him. Clyties the nymph was killed by her unrequited love for Apollo.)

Wednesday, 12 September 2012

Thrones of Desire: out now!

Yay! Thrones of Desire: erotic tales of swords, mist and fire, is now available in paperback and Kindle format (in the US at least)! If I had to pick the anthology I've been in that I like the look of best, this would be it - I just bloody love that cover!

I haven't actually received my author copy yet, but the contributor lineup is here. Edited by Mitzi Szereto, and with a foreword by Piers Anthony which I truly hope does not consist entirely of puns, this is swords-and-sorcery erotic romance. Not quite so much of the hardcore smut, though if you know Mitzi's other work you'll know she doesn't shy away from the dark side.

My contribution is Of High Renown, which is an angsty romance about an injured knight and a healer. There's love, betrayal, abuse, emotional conflict and the world's worst communication gap in this short story ... I'm exhausted just thinking about it! It was inspired by ... No, I can't tell you. It's just too embarrassing!

Here's an excerpt:

 She remembered how she had misused him.

It was an unending struggle to keep him alive. The venom in his blood seemed to have destroyed his body’s sense of equilibrium, and threw him between burning fever and frigid tremors every few hours. Emlhi cleaned and bandaged the deep puncture wounds in his shoulder, but after that she simply tried to keep his temperature on an even keel—stopping the fever boiling his brains at one moment, piling blankets over him to maintain some vestiges of warmth the next. She fed and watered him, cut fresh bracken every morning for his mattress and, when she was not watching over him, tried to keep up the work of her smallholding. She snatched her own sleep during his chills, dozing in her father’s old room.

Between fire and ice, the knight would have passages where he seemed to be lucid but completely exhausted. Then as the fever flared up afresh he’d begin to talk, and sometimes try to rise from his bed. He stared at the ceiling and spoke to people who weren’t there. He raved about battles and campaigns and the horrors he’d witnessed, until Emlhi wanted to stop her ears for sorrow. Sometimes his hallucinations grew worse and in terror or fury he would lash out at her. If he hadn’t been so weakened by his illness, he might have been really dangerous.

It went on for days, and there were times she couldn’t understand why he did not die. She might have called in an older female relative to share the labor of care, but she guarded her sole right to Gareth possessively. Exhausted, she took strength from his stubbornness.

And she took more than strength.

The first time, it wasn’t her doing. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, tending him as he burned. She’d been wiping his face and chest with a damp cloth, dipping it in fresh water every few minutes and waving it about to cool it. He was twisting in discomfort, tossing in a delirious dream, his hands scrabbling convulsively across his belly. When she touched his cheek with the cloth he would turn his face toward it, like a baby seeking the teat. She ran it down the midline of his torso and he grabbed her hand, knotting his fingers around hers. Gently she freed the cloth with her other hand and continued to bathe him. He kept his grip on her. His head was thrown back, his larynx working. Then he pushed her hand into his crotch.

Until now she’d kept his hose on, unwilling to steal the last shreds of his dignity. It was a mistake, she realized; the fabric was sodden with sweat - and beneath it his cock was engorged, as hot and solid as the rest of him. He wrapped her hand around the thick length and squeezed hard, and, as Emlhi felt a blush flood her face, a great sigh of relief escaped his taut throat. Then he began to rub her hand up and down. She squirmed with shame but she didn’t pull away. His cock grew harder beneath her imprisoned grasp, lengthening as it filled. She was clumsy, passive, too inexperienced to know what to do. He masturbated with her hand until he spasmed—and then he relaxed, falling almost instantly into a dreamless sleep.

Emlhi, trembling, pulled her cramped fingers away and plunged them into the bowl of water.

That was the first time; it wasn’t the last.

Buy at Amazon US : on Kindle US : Pre-order at Amazon UK

And if you like Fantasy erotica, why not drop in at the ERWA chatgroup this Saturday at 3pm EST? (8pm in the UK, I think ... I'd so better get this right!)  I'm guest-hosting and willing to chat about pretty much any aspect of writing swords-and-sex. Hopefully there'll be some lively debate!

Details and link here

Sunday, 9 September 2012

Incest and intrigue, and six-page descriptions of every last meal

Ah feck, I swore I wouldn't do it. I swore I wouldn't read A Song of Ice and Fire - not least because of articles like this. But it turns out that watching HBO's Game of Thrones is just a gateway drug to the hard stuff. Especially when your goddamn husband turns up with the paperback and plunks it in your hands.

It's a soap opera really - stuff constantly happens, but nothing fundamentally changes. There's no actual plot-arc visible. But you can't look away.

A man is both hot and incredibly creepy
I am trying to watch the TV version first, and thus take it slowly. It also helps, actually, because it brings the eight hundred bickering characters on each page to more vivid life. So I'm reading the 2nd book now and hoping to placate my TOTAL OBSESSION with DVD extras and stuff until Series 3 airs next year.

I've started taking sneaky looks ahead online too. (This is a baaaaaaaad idea.) The differences between the books and the TV versions fascinate me - the choices made to make some characters older, to bring in the big guns instead of using sidekicks, the decision to write extra scenes fleshing out some characters, which actually makes it clear that some NEVER have the story told from their point of view...

Of course, all this should not blind me to the deeper moral issues involved:

Friday, 7 September 2012

"THE HOTTEST book you will read this year"

"Jurgen" illustration by Frank C Pape, 1921

Just catching up on a couple of reviews of Named and Shamed. I am confused, frankly. I'm sorta used to getting responses like "I may need therapy after reading this book," and aspersions being cast upon on the state of my sanity or moral rectitude. That was for my previous, relatively restrained, books, so I was braced for outrage this time round. But Named and Shamed, which is in a league of its own for crazyass smutitude, has been really well-received so far!

Maybe it's because it doesn't LOOK like it's supposed to be romantic. No one approaches it under any illusions...

Anyway ... over at Oysters and Chocolate, Michelle Augello-Page describes Named and Shamed as "an extraordinary and unique story." She says: "Tansy is a brilliant character, reminiscent of both the tarot’s fool and the archetypal hero ... Because Tansy is so accepting, so receptive, so clearly enjoying her sexual adventures, she provides an interesting comfort zone for readers as they negotiate this wild and refreshing and uninhibited sexual terrain where anything, and I mean anything, is possible."
Full review here.

And Cara Sutra (Dominatrix and winner of Xcite's award for Best Sex Blog UK 2012) says "Janine Ashbless uses all the powers of her astonishing imagination to bring you the most debauched tale of sorcery and depravity you’re ever likely to read ... Named and Shamed takes other erotic literature and beats its backside black and blue with bramble branches." She gives it 10 out of 10!
Full review here.

Thank you Michelle and Cara!

Wednesday, 5 September 2012

69 - out now!

This is the delicious cover of brand new anthology 69, edited by Alison Tyler, out now from Harlequin Spice and available on Amazon kindle too. It has taken forever to get to publication, but the finished book is crammed to the brim with SHORT short stories - 69 of them, I believe! - each a concentrated burst of the hottest, most frantic, straight-in-there raunch. I've got three stories included.

Attic Moment is about a furtive, desperate affair:
“Marty,” I gasp as I come up for air, groping for his cock, finding it straining at his chinos already. He puts his hand to my white tee-shirt and captures my nipple with a pinch that nearly makes me collapse at the knees. He knows my nipples are exquisitely sensitive. He knows I like it a bit rough.
“Christ I need to fuck you,” he mumbles. “I’m so fucking horny for you right now.”
“She won’t hear: we’re over the spare bedroom. Suck my cock ... I’ve been needing this all week.”

Love, Honor and Obey is about a wildly filthy BDSM wedding ceremony:
They reached the top of the aisle. ‘Kneel,’ said Georgia, who had spent the last week training Flis, and the bride obeyed, facing the groom. She heard the priest begin his address, welcoming the congregation, but all her attention was on Nathan. She’d missed him so much in the week they’d been parted, and her heart was racing now. He was wearing heavy black boots with steel buckles and in his hand was a riding crop. She watched him tap the whip against his open palm.
“Who gives this woman to be wedded to this man?” asked the priest.
“I do,” said Georgia, stroking Flis’ hair. “She’s ready now.” Gravely, she passed the chain into Nathan’s free hand

And Hare Coursing is about a threesome seduction:
“Um,” she gasped, pulling back after a long moment. “We shouldn’t.”

“You’re right. You might drop your glass. Here – let me take that.” Erik slipped it from her unresisting fingers and planted it in the earth behind her. His body leaned in against hers as he moved, and she felt the hard jut of his erection. She knew she should be protesting. But Brandon still had her right nipple, flicking it, and she couldn’t think past that thrill of sensation.

“Please,” she said incoherently, turning to that man – and then it was his turn to kiss her.

The full lineup of authors is right here.Iit includes delectable double and triple helpings of some of my favourite writers - Charlotte Stein, Kristina Lloyd, Jeremy Edwards, Shanna Germain and Nikki Magennis among others - all in bite-sized packages. It's the meze of masturbation!

Buy at Spice : Amazon US : Amazon UK

Monday, 3 September 2012

Eyecandy Monday: kiss special

I am chuffed to bits to find that my erotic romance novel The King's Viper, published in e-format back in 2011, is now available in real live paperback too, from Ellora's Cave!
So in honour of this occasion, today's Eyecandy Monday will go all romancey and feature some serious KISSING.

You know me and kissing - we've had our differences in the past. For years we'd have nothing to do with each other. Well, we've made it up and are the best of chums now :-)

And if you want to read the pivotol kiss scene from the The King's Viper, it can be found right here.


e-book : paperback
Amazon UK paperback : Amazon US paperback