Monday, 30 June 2014

Blue Monday

Now that the much-loved (by me) Eyecandy Mondays are no more, I will be using Mondays to post a naughty bit from one of my stories, each week. 

And since angels and demons are on my mind this year, I'll kick off with an excerpt from The Temptation of Saint Gregory. Medieval Christian hermit Gregory, alone in his desert cell, is suffering from the determined attentions of a succubus ... but luckily he is sustained by visits from an angel.

"Gregory," she murmured in a voice of silk. He crossed himself and crouched before the altar as if defending it with his life's blood - a martyr out of the old days of persecution. His eyes sought the floor, but he could smell her; a warm, musky scent like that of crimson flowers opening under moonlight.

She was sexuality incarnate, everything that Gregory had forsworn and denied himself. She was an ancient goddess come to earth, but a goddess of night and mystery, not some bright Olympian deity. Her skin was copper, her hair copper made molten and poured over jet, coiling in serpentine ropes across her skin so that it concealed her ripe bare breasts, but only just; enough to hide nearly everything but suggest all, the nipples threatening to peek out from behind their curtain at every moment. The full curve of her hips, the firm rounded lines of her legs - all were visible. She wore nothing but a small kilt of bronze pieces that hung at her groin and clashed like the ringing of tiny cymbals at the gate to her sacred temple; that and the gold snakes that spiralled up her forearms and lower legs, their cunningly moulded coils clasping her limbs and striving ever-inward to her core.

She stepped across the room, moving like a dancer or a lioness. Her breasts swayed and bobbed under their own weight, hinting at dark nipples under the clinging fell of her hair. She trailed one hand across the top of the table, the better to emphasise the curves of her arm and her long fingers tipped with carnelian nails. She was a goddess; she was a harlot. Gregory felt his throat dry up and the blood surge to his loins. It was six years since he had lain upon a woman's flesh; almost four since he had seen a female face at all. The demoness clearly knew her business.

"Get out of here," he said in a low growl. "You  will not get what you want from me." He had tried exorcising her in the name of Christ upon her first visit, but she had merely smiled enigmatically and ignored the command.

"What I want? It is what you want that concerns me. I know exactly what that is, Gregory. And I am here to give you what you need," she added, looking at his lap.

The folds of his rough robe covered any betraying sign; she could not possibly see what struggled beneath, he thought.

"A thousand nights alone, Gregory, and I can smell your frustration on the wind from here to Alexandria. Your lying awake in the dark, unable to sleep, unable to pray, terrified to touch the serpent flesh in your own bed ... The hardness of the pallet beneath you, the serpent trapped between flesh and stone ... The orphaned memories of slave-girls and palace bedrooms that return to haunt you ... Your seed spilt while you are sleeping. Do you think all these things are secret?"

She rocked her hips. The little skirt of metal pieces clinked and shifted, revealing the flame-coloured fleece beneath. In two steps she was standing over him where he knelt.  Gregory shut his eyes as she took his head in her hands and pressed it against her raised thigh, so that his cheek and lips brushed her satiny skin. He did not struggle, but began the recite the Lord's Prayer rapidly under his breath, his lips tickling her soft flesh. The smell of her - perfume and musk, the rich hot scent of wanton woman - slipped down his throat.

"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil..."

She released his head and he raised his face to heaven, eyes still closed, features tight with concentration. She bent over him, her hair brushing his face first and then his shoulders. She bent lower and the ripe globes of her breasts bumped softly against his brow, and trailed down over cheek and nose. Gregory stopped speaking. Her breasts - soft, firm, alive with sensation - were big enough to encompass the whole of his face. His nose had slipped into the warm cleft between them. he could not breathe without inhaling the sweet smell of her skin.

She drew back enough to drag the weight of each rounded breast from side to side across his face, and the stiff point of each puckered nipple across his mouth.  "Am I not what you desire above all else?" she murmured.

The Temptation of Saint Gregory appears in my very first short story collection, Cruel Enchantment, from way back in 2000. It was an early attempt to write a tale with a protagonist whose point of view I deeply disagreed with. I was going to draw out at length the deeper themes of self-deception and attitudes to carnality, but to be honest I think it all boils down to "Don't judge a book by its cover." 
Poor old Gregory. He gets everything that's coming to him ...

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Sunday, 29 June 2014

Friday, 27 June 2014

Phenology - June

June brings tulips, lilies, roses, 
Fills the children's hands with posies

Well, I wouldn't fill childrens' hands with June wildflowers, not unless I was feeling particularly sadistic. By midsummer the flowers in our gardens may be still going strong, but out in the wild most of the plants are giving up on the pretty stuff and are concentrating on photosynthesis. By mid-June everything is GREEN. 
And mostly determined to hurt you:

"The Stinging Nettles are as high as an elephant's eye ...

and the totally lethal Hemlock reaches way up to the sky ..."

There are exceptions of course - the dog rose (top) is flowering in the hedges, and brambles are blossoming too:

They're both a bit prickly to pick though.
There are foxgloves in the semi-shade...

But they're deadly poisonous. Not junior posy material. What safe flowers can we find?

Oh oh oh - Elderflower? That's safe surely?


The lovely little elder is (next to the hawthorn) the most magical, malign, superstition-laden tree in the British Isles. It has many herbal and culinary uses, but the wood smokes and spits and squeals when it burns, and if you put it in your hearth it was said that the Devil would come and sit on your chimney! Witches were said to be able to take the shape of elder trees to disguise themselves. It was credited as being the tree used for the crucifixion, and also the tree from which Judas hung himself in shame, so it was accounted incredibly unlucky. And if you cut one down you had to apologise to it first, or else the Elder Witch would take some horrible revenge like causing you to cut your hand off.

I use this legend in Named and Shamed, actually - there is a horrible Elder Witch, and my heroine Tansy makes a very unwise bargain with her...

    'See?' said Aaron. 'You make her a present and she gives you a wish.'
    I could hear some of the kids chanting as they skipped rope on the grass nearby:

 Bour tree, bour tree: crooked wrong
 Never straight and never strong
Always bush and never tree
Since the Christ was hanged on thee.
A Christian gloss on a much older warning, I thought. 'Hmm,' I said, noncommittally. I didn't want to offend the man. Or the tree.
    'Go on.' A lock of my hair swung down across my face as he reached up without warning to my temple, pulled out the hairclip there and snapped it over a twig. My mouth fell open. Aaron grinned. 'Make a wish.'
    The hairclip was a cheap one with a white fabric flower on it. Even if it had been silk and diamonds, I wasn't sure it would have been wise to snatch it back. Gifts to the Old People should never be resented.
    I made myself relax again. 'I don't need to. Mine's already come true,' I said, letting him know I could be just as cheeky and forward as he was.
    His eyes held mine, dancing. 'Take a flower then.'
     I lifted an eyebrow and sought out one of the white clusters with my hand. 'Give me of your wood, old girl,' I said softly. There are traditional formulae for turning aside an elder's malice, and that's one of them. 'And I'll give you mine when I grows into a tree.'
    'Ah,' he said, eyes narrowing; 'you're a smart 'un.' 

More happily, June is also the time of the hay-harvest, before the grass seeds are mature and while the leaves have greatest nutritive value. 

But the cereal crops are unripe still - and incredibly vulnerable to rain, wind and blight. Midsummer rituals celebrated the highpoint of the sun and the longest days, but also had a protective purpose because the entire food supply for the coming winter could be devastated at a stroke by the gods. It was also the time of year raiding parties were most likely from your (equally agrarian) neighbours, who'd have finished the spring planting and been twiddling their thumbs awaiting harvest too. So traditional Midsummer festivals often featured bonfires which were used to bless crops and animals and people alike.

My first glimpse of the sun on the Summer Solstice morning this year, 4.43 a.m.
So be afraid. Be very afraid... and it's not even winter yet!

Wednesday, 25 June 2014

Guest post: Erzabet Bishop

Today I'd like to welcome to my blog Erzabet Bishop, author of urban paranormal novel Sigil Fire:

Sonia is a succubus with one goal: stay off Hell’s radar. But when succubi start to die, including her sometimes lover, Jeannie, she’s drawn into battle between good and evil.
Fae is a blood witch turned vampire, running a tattoo parlor and trading her craft for blood. She notices that something isn’t right on the streets of her city. The denizens of Hell are restless. With the aid of her nest mate Perry and his partner Charley, she races against time before the next victim falls. The killer has a target in his sights, and Sonia might not live to see the dawn.

Let's kick off with a  Q and A!

How did you come up with Sigil Fire, Erzabet?
This story began as a writing prompt that didn’t make it into the anthology it was originally intended for. After much more work, I sent it in to the Ylva Halloween anthology and the amazing and wonderful Astrid believed it could be so much more. What was a nine thousand word story became a nearly thirty thousand word novella.

Will there be a sequel?
Yes. Charley, Perry, Sonia and Fae will be back for book two, which has already begun.

Favorite dessert?
Chocolate. Any kind. Anywhere.

Do you have a pet?
Yes. My husband and I have a pack of furry canine children that constantly keep us on our toes.

Favorite place to relax?
That would have to be in bed with a good book, my puppy Tadpole by my side.

Who are some of your favorite urban fantasy or erotic authors?
There are so many! I love Kim Harrison, Lisabet Sarai, Jaye Wells, Red Phoenix, Cari Silverwood, DL King, Alison Tyler, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Rhavensfyre, Patricia Briggs, Laura Antoniou…the list goes on and on. If I could be sealed in a room for a year I would never be bored reading these fabulous authors and more.

What are you working on now?
I have several works in progress. I write for the serial, Club Rook and am in the middle of two episodes to finish out the first season. There is also a CYOA for Silkwords, a twisted fairy tale for Decadent and a Halloween tale for my wonderful friends at Ylva. Not to mention the urban fantasy romance I’m up to my knees in for Sci Spanks coming up in a week or so.

What is Sci Spanks?
I’m glad you asked! It is a wonderful event for authors and readers to get together around their love of reading erotic literature. Some spanking may be involved, so warm up your paddles! Check out this link to the Facebook page and consider being an ambassador for more prize opportunities.

And now ... an excerpt from Sigil Fire:

Blood pounded in her temples, and Sonia’s feet hit the pavement. Tears blurred her vision as the reality of what almost happened sunk in. He was the killer, and he knew where she lived. He was a fallen angel.

Turning the corner, she saw the tattoo parlor and picked up her pace. The shadows mocked her from every angle. He would be out there waiting. His oily presence oozed unholy joy at her panic, and she stumbled, almost losing her footing on the uneven sidewalk. Footsteps echoed on the street behind her, and in her panic, she couldn’t distinguish between friend and foe.

The glass doors loomed large, windows covered with posters of the latest trends in piercing and ink. Pulling maniacally on the door, Sonia let out a howl of frustration to discover it locked. “Son of a bitch! Oh Goddess! Open up!” Tears ran down her face, and she tore at the door, hoping for some weakness that would allow her entry. Something. Anything.

She bit back a sob and staggered backward. It was over. He would find her in moments.

The street had become too quiet and the echo of sinister laughter crept along the edge of darkness.

The bastard was playing with her.

Fear shot through Sonia’s body, numb and cold, causing her to yelp as the doors rattled behind her.

The sound of a barking dog came from the interior of the shop.

A voluptuous dark-haired woman leaned out, the bluish light illuminating her features with beams of icy radiance. “If you’re looking for a corner, succubus, you’ve picked the wrong one. Move it along.”
Sonia stepped closer to the door, turning her head into the light. “I’m here to see Fae.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. The T-shirt and jeans had been warm enough earlier, but the air had turned chillier.

“Red?” The woman’s eyes grew wide. She assessed Sonia’s every movement.

Sonia shook her head, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. “Do you know me?

The barking of a dog sounded closer, and the dark-haired woman drew back as the little body pushed past her.

Sonia leaned down. “What are you doing here?”

The little dog barked furiously, wagging its tail and whining. Its furry little face searched Sonia’s, and it jumped against Sonia’s leg, licking her hand.

“Hey there. Glad to see you made it home.” Sonia reached down at petted dog’s head.

Snorting, the dog rubbed its head against Sonia’s hand, letting out a delighted sound.

“Your dog knows me.” Sonia searched the dark-haired woman’s face. “I saved it. In the alley yesterday. There was a demon trying to take it.”

“Jellybean, what have you been doing?” Fae returned her gaze to Sonia and stared hard. “You saved her? How?”

A frustrated snort came from the dog, and she growled at the shadows.

“You’re lucky that you have a hellhound to watch over you. Someone must have loved you a lot.”

The woman’s face softened. “My mother. Jellybean was the last gift she gave me before she died.”

“Can you please let me in?” Sonia glanced behind her. The shadows grew longer, and the temperature continued to drop. The street was deserted now. “I need to see Fae. Monty sent me.” Sonia hated that her voice shook. She couldn’t help but notice the woman who blocked her path was intoxicating. The stranger’s dark hair rippled in the cold light of the shop, and her tight fitting shirt revealed far more than it chose to conceal. Her eyes burned black in the darkness, and despite her fear, Sonia felt herself falling inside them. They were safe. Familiar somehow. It didn’t make sense.

“Why the hell would Monty send you here?” The woman straightened, and the illusion of a simple shop owner vanished.

Jellybean barked. The dog’s body tensed, and she stood in front of Sonia, protecting her from the darkness beyond. The energy on the street grew malignant. The dog’s eyes flashed red and power radiated from her.

Sonia and the woman stared, momentarily speechless.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Come on.” The woman grinned as Jellybean jumped up and down. “Get in here.”

Dark laughter echoed down the street and Sonia flinched.

Jellybean growled, the hair on the back of her neck standing straight up.

Sighing deeply, the woman held the door open. “Come on then. Jellybean’s vouching for you and I’ve been looking for you myself.”
“Thank you.” Sonia scurried through the door, tears of relief brimming on her lashes. She blinked, but the tears still managed to fall. She was an immortal. Fear was not something she was used to living with, and it made her angry. Her head and soul were still spinning from everything that had happened in the past hour. She staggered. Her life was about to change even more. She could feel it.

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Monday, 23 June 2014

Eyecandy Monday: the last post

Welcome to the last Eyecandy Monday I'll be posting. Over the years I've thoroughly enjoyed sharing the excellent pics - sweet, hot or downright filthy - that I've come across on Tumblr, Facebook or Pinterest, but I'm afraid there will no more from here on. I have to be a good girl now. Because I'm not a photographer, and the Eyecandy pics aren't my own creations. *sigh*

What else shall I finish with than some sexy minotaurs, eh? It's what I'm noTAURUS for, lol... And if you don't like them (or my crap bovine puns), at least you can be glad it's all over!

And next week? Well, I'm starting a new Monday theme which I hope will be cockle-warming too. See you then, hopefully!

Sunday, 22 June 2014

The Wheel turns again

I've started writing the second novella in my series The Wheel of the Year. :-)

Friday, 20 June 2014

Tempted Romance

Brace for a BIG Cover Him with Darkness catchup:

There's a new imprint in town - Cleis Press has officially announced the launch of Tempted Romance (the title was chosen by Romantic Times readers, yay!) in autumn fall this year. And the launch title?

"The launch title for Tempted Romance will be Cover Him with Darkness by Janine Ashbless, slated for a September 22 paperback release. In addition to paperback editions (priced at $14.95), the imprint will publish in e-book, audio, and iOS apps."

Note the new release date - you won't have to wait until October after all if you pre-order :-)

Cover Him With Darkness will be followed by Mitzi Szereto's new anthology Darker Edge of Desire: gothic tales of romance. Since CHWD started life as a short story in Mitzi's Red Velvet and Absinthe gothic anthology, I cannot think of a more appropriate and wonderful pairing.

I am so chuffed I'm practically steam-powered!

The first reader reactions to advance copies have started to appear too:

And Rose Caraway has reviewed it in full!

"This book was truly a fantastic read. Janine Ashbless amazed me over and over again ... Yes, this book is an erotic romance, but there is also gunfire, car chases, attempted murder, Vatican soldiers, impassioned priests, and my favourite - sexy, sexy angels and demons.
Yeah... Gimme... hard."

Thank you Rose!

Wednesday, 18 June 2014

I got lucky at Smut by the Sea

So last Saturday I went to Smut by the Sea 2014, the second of its name :-)

This year, as well as the stalls and the coffee and the lovely smutty readings, we had writing workshops from Victoria Blisse, K D Grace and Lucy Felthouse, which involved some challenging "write it where you sit NOW YES NOW NO EXCUSES" exercises. Which worked for me really well, to my surprise. I'm normally such a procrastinator!

Kay Jaybee, our evil paddle-wielding hostess

"Is she headed this way?"

"Oh hell, yes she is!"

And I got lucky.

You can tell I'm spitting out a particularly filthy word, can't you?
On the erotic tombola, that is...
Last year all I won was a pen, damnnit. This year the Stars Were Right (and there were free pens) so LOOK AT THE LOOT I CAME HOME WITH!

Cuffs and a mask, a giant bottle of lube, a mug and a couple of vibrating cockrings.

As you can imagine, I wasted no time, once home, in making use of my prize:

And talking of tea ... the lovely Jennifer Denys not only kept me awake while driving, but treated me to a full cream tea in Scarborough town, where I was surprised to discover through much experimentation that my fave decadent combination of cream and jam and whatever on top of a scone is ...


I did not know that.

It was a great day - well done to Victoria and Kevin for putting so much work in and organising it!

More event reportage from Tilly Hunter / Nano Vaslen  (marine biologist) / Bella Settarra

Monday, 16 June 2014

Eyecandy Monday

Time for a celebratory tipple - the very first advance review for Cover Him with Darkness has gone up, and it's a beauty! From The Sexy Librarian:

  "Gimme vampires, werewolves, ghosts--even gremlins if you must, but those creatures pale in comparison when it comes to proper angels and demons. Janine Ashbless has me crushing so hard on her right now. It is no secret that I love to flirt with the devil in my own writing, but "Cover Him With Darkness" had me wet and poised.
As readers it's what we want, right? A story that pulls us in and tears at the fabric of our most raw and basic desires until we are bare, exposed and the object of some kind of ultimate desire, in both body and soul. A story that makes us want to be feasted upon until our own lust is finally satiated"

Thank you Sexy Librarian!

Sunday, 15 June 2014

Rik Mayall

Comedian Rik Mayall died this week. I was gutted. He was only 56, and I'd grown up with him on TV since my teens. He was a rubber-faced genius who mastered being repulsive and yet strangely compelling right at the same time.
In tribute, here he is telling a fairy story for his series "Grim Tales".
(Warning: there's lots of chocolate and kissing in this one!)

Friday, 13 June 2014


Oh. OH.
It's been spotted in the wild. We have proof!
The harbinger of dooooooom -

Rose Caraway has posted this instagram pic on Facebook - which means that review copies of Cover Him with Darkness are going out to magazines and reviewers and people on the Cleis List.

I am feeling giddy and delighted and a little bit queasy.

Wednesday, 11 June 2014

Le Petit Mort

I've just subbed a paranormal erotic story - it's a vampire tale, sort of - that verges on horror. Because it was intended for an erotica collection I worked quite hard to keep it sexy rather than scary. Well, too scary, anyway. Let's hope the editor sees it that way!

So I've been thinking about Erotica v. Horror. Two separate genres, though clearly there is a potential overlap as there is between all forms of genre fiction. I actually started out my career writing horror, then switched to erotica (thus, incidentally, working my way down the literary pecking order. Some big name horror writers do write smut, or have done in the past. But they like to keep that a secret).

The two genres actually have a lot in common, I believe:

  • The plot structure is often similar for both genres. They both work really well (best, many might say) as short stories. In both Horror and Erotica the ideal is to end at the dramatic (or literal) climax, with no cooling off period. In longer fiction the aim is to create an ascending ladder of excitement in the reader's mind, based on set-piece scenes interspersed with tension-ratcheting lulls.
  • The author above all aims to evoke a visceral reaction - whether fear or arousal. The best horror or erotica stories bypass the rational brain and go straight to the body. They make the heart race (in both cases) and they make the skin crawl or the genitals swell. These are primaeval responses designed to cope with crisis real-life stimuli, and to be able to evoke these reactions by the written word alone takes a surprising amount of skill. You are wresting control from the reader - and that thrill is exactly what fans like.
  • Because this is a stimulus-response reaction, even the most keen readers in both genres can become jaded. This may lead authors toward a dangerous trap of making the stimulus stronger (MORE BLOOD AND GUTS! / BIGGER ORGIES! HUGE STRAP-ONS!), but this is not a game the writer can win in the long run. Far better, in my opinion, to sneak up on the reader with something they hadn't anticipated, and reveal to them the depths of their vulnerability. If you can convince readers of the devastating allure of a hole in a woollen stocking (like in The Piano) or the terror inherent in a closed door (like in The Monkey's Paw), then you are doing it right as a writer.
  • Both genres are subversive. They aim to convince you to suspend your faith in the laws of society, in the normal tropes of interaction between people, and to accept - temporarily - that there might be other, often more powerful and dangerous, possibilities. They both say "What if the world didn't work the way people tell you it does?" Both genres draw their power from overturning social consensus and restrictions.

If you are interested in reading examples of my erotica that I'd class as horror too, try:
Lord Montague's Last Ride in Cruel Enchantment
Cold Hands, Warm Heart in Dark Enchantment
At Usher's Well in Fierce Enchantments
and Red Grow the Roses.

Monday, 9 June 2014

Eyecandy Monday

What's that - you want yet more tattoo pictures? But there are ladies present!

The tentacles are back!

See what happens when you let me on Pinterest?

Sunday, 8 June 2014


I was never taught the rules of grammar at school. I have no idea what any of the tenses are called. I just write by instinct.

I seem to have got away with it so far, but there's always this sense of anxiety. Particularly as I do write a lot of stories with complex nested flashbacks...

Friday, 6 June 2014

Shanna-nananananana ... Batman!

I had an extra special day in London recently - extra special because I went to meet leximaven and fellow Geek Love editor Shanna Germain, who was on a working trip to England!

It was so fabulous to meet up after all these years we've known each other online, and to sit in a restaurant for a couple of hours with her  and her partner Monte Cook, and chat about everything from smut and gaming to politics and dogs. She is just as smart and friendly and wonderful in real life as she is online, all despite the jet-lag and the rubbishy English weather (Well, she's from Seattle. She's braced for rain).

And as a bonus treat for myself, I made sure to visit the new British Library for the first time.
Newton, by Eduardo Paolozzi

The British Library is the legal repository of every book published in the country. Somewhere in there* are my own novels, heh heh:

But you've probably spotted the pink signs. I went to the Comics Unmasked exhibition, which was a total trip through my own reading past. Everything from wife-beating-newspaper-cartoon Andy Capp (ugh) through Misty comic for girls (my personal gateway drug) to 2000AD and the much-missed Crisis and the thaumaturgic head-fuck of Promethea. Very political and absolutely fascinating. It hosts a lovely section on Sex too ... which has a mysterious indie strip referencing a women's sex-shop called Sh! ... I'm not sure what connection that has with the Sh! I know and love today :-) 

Little extras include one of Dr Dee's original magical grimoires, manuscripts by Crowley, Dave McKean puppets and Dredd's helmet from the recent movie.

If you have any interest in comics, pop culture or art, I totally recommend this exhibition, which runs until 19th August. But won't let you take photos indoors.

*or possibly in their warehouse in Boston Spa, Yorkshire, which is actually a LOT closer to where I live, but not so cool.

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

Brace yourselves, Scarborough!

Where else in the rest of space-time could you encounter an "erotic tombola"?!

Yes, Smut by the Sea is fast closing upon us. It might even stop raining on the Yorkshire coastline between now and then! (No promises mind ... but Scarborough is a great town to visit if it turns out nice.)

I had an absolutely wonderful day there last year, and I'm really looking forward to going again. It's open to anyone, writers or readers, who loves erotica and wants to mix with peeps like us. We're not nearly as weird as you think we are ... or maybe we're just good at faking Normal ;-)

See y'all there, fellow smutters!

Here's the official blurb:

Sessions from  bestselling authors Victoria Blisse, KD Grace and Lucy Felthouse on different aspects of erotic writing set you up in the morning. Start with inspiration with Victoria, then KD Grace helps you write better erotica by finessing sex.  The last workshop of the day gives you the tools you need to wow editors and get your stories accepted and will be led by Lucy Felthouse.

After a free lunch (oh yes, such a thing exists!) we’ll be enjoying the Reading Slam, short, sexy snippets from some of the smutty authors in attendance.  You’ll get tasters of some of the best erotica and erotic romance in the country and their books will be available to purchase at the book stall too.
All day you’ll be able to browse the stalls in the side room, check out Steph’s Ann Summer’s goodies, hot books from attending authors or pick something unique up from our craft stall. Then of course you’ll want to have a go on our unique erotic tombola –  the prizes are truly thrilling! 

Tickets are selling fast, but there are some left. So what are you waiting for? Join us for lots of smut and laughter at Scarborough library on the 14th June from 9.30am.

Quotes from last year’s Smut by the Sea Attendees:

“In between the readings there was another key component that made SBTS such a fantastic experience, and that was the chance to chat, to share ideas, to meet people face-to-face who we had only ever talked to online before and to discover that they were just as amazing face-to-face as they are on social media.” KD Grace

“For an amateur erotica author and long-time consumer of smut, the day was a perfect mix of readings, more formal Q&A but also the chance to mingle with all the participants and ask questions. I was blown away by how friendly everyone was, and how much advice I was given.” Anna Sky

“So, lovely people, smut, PVC, fish and chips and ice cream – how good a day is that?!!” Slave Nano

Monday, 2 June 2014

Sunday, 1 June 2014

Culture vulture

I'm the kind of person who when visiting museums, always pauses to take photos of this sort of thing.

Hey - at least I wait until all the children leave the room first!