Monday, September 27, 2010

Mancandy Monday: The Only Alpha In My Harem

You may have heard: I like beta heroes. Correction: I love beta heroes. In fact, if I were truly being honest, I kind of like the greek letter that comes after beta. I'm halfway down the bloody alphabet. I like omicron heroes. Which sounds even more alpha than alpha, weirdly, and also like he's the star of some weird sci-fi novel about the code that unlocks the universe and lets out creepy space monkeys or some other such nonsense.

I call it: The Omicron Factor. Yeah, definitely space monkeys in that one, somewhere.

But all of this immense and unwieldy digression aside, I do like one alpha. There is one true balls-to-the-wall-chugs-drill-bits-instead-of tea-arms-like-trucks-sweats-viagra alpha in my imaginary harem of hot heroes. One real man's man, of the sort who probably wipes engine grease on his many cut-off items of clothing, when he's done at work for the day. One hairy, temple popping, testerone rippled, unadultered slab of man-meat.

CJ, from the Dawn of the Dead remake.

Yeah. Just fookin' look at him. It's like my brain and my loins have opposite day, when it comes to this guy. Like my brain and my loins revolt for one sheer instant of man-beast, because of all the Gabriel Grays I put them through.

When they go alpha, they go full alpha. I mean, have you seen the Dawn of the Dead remake? He's a security guard at a mall, for one. I mean, stereotypically speaking, you don't get much more hopped up on crazy testerone juiceballs than that. And then he pushes everyone around with his big gun and gets all pissy about there being a zombie apocalypse going on.

But that's not even getting into these images of gratuitous facial hair porn:

Which is the point where my loins spontaneously burst into flames. I mean...his hair is just And his eyes black. And his soul is

But worse than this: he's played by Michael Kelly. who has the most masculine face in the history of the universe (especially with that fookin' handlebar and goatee thing he's rocking), but also has a mysteriously gentle voice.

That's right, folks. He's the alpha who cares. He only goes and saves everyone from a goddamned zombie apocalypse, at the end! He's like the prototypical romance alpha. He has the entire asshole alpha to dominant provider storyline! Only in a zombie movie.

How orsum is that? I'll tell you how orsum that is: very. And though I don't often like great hulking brutes who are also assholes in my erotic romance, I do like him, doing that, in a zombie movie. And I mean, not enough to write stories based on him, all the time. Not enough to oust my betas (no matter how much flack I get for writing them, I'm going to keep coming back for more. They deserve it, because girls do want to make passes at boys who wear glasses. I know they do. They're somewhere out there, those readers who love betas. You're out there, aren't you? Please be out there!), but enough to one day maybe write my zombie apocalypse epic.

With him as the dirty, filthy star.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

The Business of Pleasure

Yeah, you heard that right. See that title, there? That's the actual title of Justine Elyot's latest book. And I mean, that title alone makes you want to eat it, doesn't it? But then pair that title with the name Justine Elyot, and you've got a feast for the senses, an erotic delight, a masterpiece of dirty deeds and domination and all the usual wonders Justine is so good at making cool for little beta-guy-loving me.

But okay. Maybe you're not convinced yet. Maybe you need a little more persuasion. How about this?


Check out that cover. That's right. How hot is that? I'll tell you how hot. Awesomely hot. The Business of Pleasure doesn't just get orsumly, either. It gets the full works, the proper word: AWESOMELY.

What's that you say? You're still not convinced to go out and buy this delicious treat? First off: what's wrong with you? Second off:

If one call could set you on a trail to the heart of your darkest fantasy, would you make it? Charlotte does, and her bold decision propels her into a world where no desire is too outrageous, decadent or extravagant to be satisfied - for a price. Her own fantasy life merges with reality when she is hired to work for the shadowy organisation she first encountered as a client. She organises an array of wild set pieces involving banquets, film productions, mansions full of pleasure slaves, as well as thoroughly researching those requests that chime with her own kinky tastes. Two men, one woman, and every sexual fantasy imaginable - these are the ingredients that make up the business of pleasure.


Mega hot synopsis.*

And if you're still not convinced, then I can only imagine you're thinking...yeeeaaah. Justine Elyot? She's, like, Charlotte's bezzie mate, isn't she? No wonder she's pimping her book! They probably passed brown parcels, under the table! They probably snog, on Wednesdays.

Well I tell you what- we do not snog on Wednesdays. Tuesdays, maybe. Never Wednesdays. And even if we did snog on every single day of the week, I should also inform you: I didn't become Justine's friend because we met at a swanky soiree, where we drank canapes and ate wine and told each other we'd conspire to take over the world.

Oh no no. For a start, I've never been to a swanky soiree. There aren't any swanky soirees, in an erotic author's life, sad to say. Instead, I read her story in the anthology Liaisons. And I thought- hello hello hello. What's all this then? Because apparently it was so good, it briefly turned me into a police officer.

And then I searched out her blog, because I'm a creeping creeper and when I like someone's work, I damn well tell them. I thought she was a fresh new voice at my much beloved Black Lace towers, and I wanted to tell her so. Because you should always tells someone so. Other authors aren't your competition. They're writers who make the world brighter by being in it.

So I told her stuff like that, and to my delight she didn't think I was a creeping creeper, and she told me she too was going to have a collection out with Black Lace, and from then on we became friends. We weathered Black Lace closing, together. We've had massive ups and huge downs. We walked the road to nowheresville side by side.

And we came out on the other end.

But none of that weathering is the reason why I'll write a post like this. I write it because I was a reader, first, when it came to Justine. And I'll never forget a writer who made Black Lace more awesome by writing for it, the same way I'll never forget Sarah Copeland and Juliet Hastings and Portia Da Costa and Janine Ashbless and Madelynne Ellis.

In the end, you should try The Business of Pleasure because erotica needs great voices like Justine Elyot. She's the best.

Amazon link, where you'll have a slight wait to get your mitts on it:

Xcite link, where you can get it now, now, now!

*Yes, I know, I know. The main character is called Charlotte. But she wrote it ages ago! It hasn't got anything to do with me, I swear. I swear, we don't snog on Wednesdays.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Mancandy Monday: Dat Ass

As I'm still fancying the living love God that is Sharlto Copley and all of his divine gloriousness, and can't work up the necessary effort to create a Mancandy Monday about a being who is not Sharlto Copley (he's ruined me for other men. Just ruined me), I thought I'd do a post that honours one of my favourite internet things:

Unf, dat ass. As in, you know. You see an ass and go UNF. Dat ASS.

So behold! The asses!

Yeah, this is Sharlto Copley's ass. It is a rare and beautiful sight, here presented in its natural habitat- a pair of almost see-through blue hospital pants. Of course, if he were not wearing said hospital pants, I'd be much happier. But we can't have everything, now, can we gentle Bertha.

Though I don't know why I'm calling you gentle. The reason Sharlto Copley has a restraining order against us is because you tried to take a bite out of that sweet, sweet candy. Goddamn you, Bertha, and your total lack of self-restraint! And love of candy!

Anyhoo, another ass!

This time it's Nathan Fillion's. I have been talking, of late, with the author KJ Reed, about the bounty that is Nathan Fillion's ass. Hopefully I'm going to be over at her blog on Tuesday, discussing my thoughts on it, as it features rather prominently in my drea- my novella, The Horizon. You know, the one that's still out now? Yeah, Quade has an apple butt because of the apple butt you see here, shining out at you like a glorious beacon of all that is good and right in the world.

Okay- more asses. Alexander Skarsgard's this time.

Now, I don't know what to think of this ass. It seems to have a deep, deep chasm between the buttocks, in a rather unsettling way. As though his ass is the surface of Mars, and the Valles Marineris lies right in the middle, just waiting to disgorge alien space vampires or some other such thing.

And yes, I realise that all of the above sounds like some sort of metaphor for pooing. Which I swear, it isn't. It's just...what's with the deep chasm, Alexander? Do you keep things in that mammoth groove, between your buttocks? A spare pencil, perhaps? What am I saying! You could keep a pencil case in that valley. You could keep me in there, nestled safely and happily in your butt crack.

And believe me, Alexander Skarsgard, I would be happy. Clenched by your muscular buttocks. Able to roam where I might, with my two free hands. Ah, bliss.

But enough of that insanity. Onto more crazy!

This time, it's Bradley Cooper's. Ass crack.

Yeah, I never said that this post wasn't going to also be kind of gross. But it's the right kind of gross, is it not? It is the sexy kind of gross, whereby you feel dirty and not right for wanting to lick that trapped butt crack, but can still comfortably revel in your own filthiness.

Though I have to say, I think that's how Bertha got into trouble, with Sharlto Copley. Call me crazy. Just a hunch. She should know that when a man bends down and accidentally shows butt crack, that is not a cue to poke your tongue where it's not wanted.

Bad Bertha.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

How To Go About Promo Without Feeling Too Dirty

Okay, so as you all probably know by now, tomorrow is the release day of my first actual real novella from Ellora’s Cave. I know, right? Me. An Ellora’s Cave author. But anyhow, marvelling over that fact is not the purpose of this blog post. Oh no no no.

You see, the fabulous and amazing authoress, Cara McKenna, also has a release tomorrow at the Cave. And because both she and I feel all funny about shoving ourselves forward and doing promo stuff, we came up with this stupendous plan.

I would promo her earth-shattering work on my blog, and she would promo mine on hers. Brilliant, eh?

Okay, so you don’t think it’s brilliant, Bertha. But just shut up, cos no-one cares what you think. Cara McKenna thinks it’s brilliant, and she’s like, a genius or summat. She writes erotic romances that are not only hot, and cool, and excellently written, but that also have an authenticity about them, a realness to the characters and their actions- no matter how wild the actions might be.

I can see why they do the things they do, and that’s a big thing for me. Sometimes I think some erotica and erotic romance writers think you can just have you characters do anything, and who cares about things like authenticity or motivation? But Cara cares, and that’s why I like her work.

Anyhoo, enough gushing. Or rather, not enough gushing, because now I’m going to read to you the ode I composed, in her honour:

Oohhh (there’s always an oohhh at the start of an ode. Shakespeare said) Cara!
How delightful you are
With your love of round birds.
As opposed to square birds,
Which I don’t think exist.
Or at least,
I hope they don’t. That would just be frightening.
But anyway where was I-
Oh yes. Cara!
With your watching of shows like Hoarders,
Which sounds to me like
A program about serial killers who keep people’s skins.
Or maybe that’s just
Because I’ve seen Silence of the Lambs recently.
I’m sure you would never watch
A program about serial killers who keep people’s skins.
I don’t know how I started
Talking about this.
Instead, let me talk about all the ways in which you
Are brilliant.
When I think of you,
I always think of you total acceptance
Of my man lusting ways.
And also of that picture you took.
Of you kind of eating your iPad.
Because you seem to me a mixture
Of dedication and brilliance
But also fabulous crazy.
And that’s the best sort of person.
The sort of person who
Writes utter brilliance
But doesn’t take themselves
Too seriously.
Don’t ever change, fabulous Cara.
Alan Rickman’s voice won’t love you,
If you do.

I know, I know. Masterpiece, the next Shakespeare, get Derek Jacobi on the horn to boom it out on the London stage etc etc. Just shut up, all right, I don’t even really know what an ode is! But I do know what an interview is, and since you’re probably wondering a little bit about this amazing brilliant writer who loves round birds and people’s skins, I did one with Cara! Check it out! She tells you stuff about her fabulous new release, and other things!

1. Okay, so first off I'm going to ask you the most vital question to be asked of anyone. No writer can live, without answering this deadly serious and completely normal question: Is Planet X going to crash into us in 2012?

I don't have the tinfoil hat scientific expertise to address that issue, but if Planet X does exist, it needs to bear in mind that the ancient Maya are scheduled to do the same thing, right around Christmastime. Unless they're like, in cahoots? I don't know the details, but Jessica Andersen does. Ask her. Read her books. Give her your first-born because she is hilarious.

2. Shut up (Ed: Why am I saying shut up so much? God I need to shut up). It's a serious question. Even more serious: If it is going to crash into us, what book do you want to write before we all die horribly, like from half the world breaking off and floating into space, or giant tidal waves forming a nuclear tidal wave so big it leaves no water on the ocean floor, or summat like that? If you don't believe this is going to happen, go to question three.

I'm going to assume that either Planet X or the Maya will destroy us in 2012, because I like to err on the side of caution. And before the world does asplode from planets or conquistadors or whathaveyou, I'd like to see two things published: my ridiculous yet-to-be-finished erotic novel The Ant Farm (that batshit battle royale Orwellian kidney stone with seven main characters you foolishly volunteered to beta read for me) and my favorite mainstream romance, Between Brothers. The latter is not, as its title might suggest, about incestuous male siblings. It's about a gal in a big romantic pickle with a pair of foxy Kiwis (Ed: All I can think of is Jemaine Clement and Rhys Darby. But then as you know, my man lusting wiring is all wrong). Grarrr. I love that book, and if I ever get around to starting my quest for an agent, I might even sell it.

3. Seriously, you don't believe in Planet X? That person totally saw it in Australia one time. It wasn't the moon, okay? It was Planet X. Roland Emmerich and Nicholas Cage made a film about it, I think. And then his kids went to Pandora only it was like Eden, IDEK. Is this a question? Not sure.

I don't like Nicholas Cage…except maybe in Moonstruck, because he played a punchy baker and his arms were all jacked and filthy and that was pretty sexy. Next question please.

4. So enough about Planet X. Let's talk, instead, about something equally important: bad eighties movies. Which do you prefer- My Demon Lover, Teen Witch, Adventures In Babysitting, or that one with Charlie Sheen in where he's haunted by a car or summat?

I don't like Charlie Sheen, either…can I chose E) None of the above? Can I write in an answer? Because I totally would NOT write in Tron. That movie so did not live up to my childhood memories. I'd write it in and then scribble it out and write Batteries Not Included in big fat marker on top of it (Ed: Yesssssss! Tho my favourite old people in the eighties movie is defo Cocoon).

5. How on earth have you not seen My Demon Lover? It's clearly the greatest movie of all time. No really, it is.

I know, I totally didn't…and I worked at a video store for four years. I have no excuses.

6. You like reality shows. I've never even heard of half the ones you like. Most of their titles make me think- I bet a reality show based on Cara's life would be more interesting than something called "Hoarders". Is that even real? Never mind. Tell me more about this fabulous new television show that I've just invented, The Cara McKenna Show:

Well, I'm the host and every week there's a new guest, like Alan Rickman, or a willow ptarmigan, or Julian Barratt with his clothes off, or like six button quails (because they're so small). I stick my face through a hole in a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Charlize Theron's body and ask my guests to tell me how it is I manage to be so awesome. Not sure if the face-hole is like, where her face should be, so somewhere totally unexpected. Tune in and find out!

7. So now you have your own TV show, and you're rich and famous and everyone loves you. Johnny Depp, George Clooney, and Brad Pitt all hit on you at the launch party for your new show "Why I Like Round Birds". Who do you take home? Also: details plz.

Hmmm… George's salt and peppery beard is tempting, but…

8. If you don't take any of them home because, quite frankly, they're all boring and not as handsome as Sharlto Copley, who do you take home, and why?

I would politely rebuff George and Brad and Johnny and attempt to seduce Survivorman host Les Stroud into my limo. He would gently (while sharpening a hunting knife or setting a snare) remind me that we're both happily married, and suggest we go on a platonic camping trip instead. I would accept, then figure out a way to push him into an arctic lake while we were hiking, assuming he'd have to get all naked while his clothes dried by the fire. I would emphatically endorse that strategy by citing any number of instances where this happened to Bear Grylls on Man vs. Wild, and then Les would get offended and leave me to die in the tundra.

9. If you say Sharlto Copley, I will end you. You knew I was launching my own show, Masterchefing While Dancing With The Stars! He would have loved me then, I hate you forever. How do you feel about that?

I would never attempt to steal Sharlto from you, not even by distracting you with a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Evan Lysacek, because as everyone knows, you are a fickle, fickle slut. Oh, sorry—I forgot you're English. Slag. A fickle, fickle slag. (Ed: I wish I could defend myself, here, but well. You all read my blog, right? New man every Monday. Me, slutting it up all over him. He feels degraded. I do not care).

10. As you can see, I'm extremely good at conducting interviews. I mean, no-one can come up with such brilliantly insightful and sensible questions as me. Some of my questions aren't even questions, because I'm post-modern or summat. But I've got to ask, if you could have been asked different and probably better questions, what would you have had me ask?

Well, I like talking about unshaven dudes fighting each other. Why not ask me, "Cara, which two unshaven dudes would you totally want to watch battle it out in 300-style monoschrome muscly slow-motion detail?"

11. Now answer the question you would have had me ask, were I an actually competent interviewer:

Ooh, good question, Charlotte…possibly the most insightful interview question I've ever been asked, considering this is my first interview (Ed: fanks. And this is your first interview? Can I make a popping your cherry joke?). I'd have to go with Vincent Regan (who's already in 300, how convenient) and the evil Slavic guy with the shaved head from Universal Soldier: Regeneration. Let me IMDb him…hang on…Andrei Arlovski. Yes, that'll do nicely, thank you.

12. If you could bonk any one of your characters, which one would you bonk, and why? Come on, don't be like Charlaine Harris, all "none, because they're not real". Of course they're not real! But isn't it fun imagining bonking them, in your head? If the answer to that is no, please don't tell me. I want to remain pure in my love for you.

Oh geez…the only character I've written who I could actually imagine myself dating is Colin, one of the two heroes from that romance I mentioned earlier—Between Brothers. But that's no fun, since no one except my faithful beta reader Amy has read it yet. Well, I wouldn't mind getting it on with Patrick from Ruin Me. I like me a desperately horny and morally conflicted working-class man of few words.

13. Finally, we'll do some sane things. Like: you have a super fabulous orsum book out. Of course it's super fabulous orsum, because it's you writing it. Everyone knows that. But I want people to hear it from the horse's mouth. Why is your book super fabulous orsum?

Do you feel as dirty as I do, getting down to the actual pimping? (Ed: You know I do, bb) But yes, Backwoods is out tomorrow, September 10. It's the pre-quel (yeah, stupid word, but accurate) to Shivaree—the story of how Shane and Gabriel's smoking-hot codependent whatevership began. Strictly male/male. Well, strictly unsuspecting-straight-guy-becomes-obsessively-infatuated-with-another-man. I absolutely love writing Shane's POV, and if anyone out there read Shivaree and enjoyed him as well and digs m/m (and digs Shane constantly dropping mf bombs), give it a try. Unless you like happy endings…if you've already read Shivaree you know Shane and Gabriel have a complicated thing going on, to say the least, and it's not all glitter and butterflies. Mostly it's sketchy power dynamics and filthy sex and hangovers. Poor Shane. But I promise he'll get his happy ending in the next six months, if Ellora's Cave buys Shivaree's sequel, which I'm fairly close to finishing.

14. Once people read this super fabulous orsum book, they're going to want to read more by you. They're salivating as we speak. Tell us a bit about your other books, and why they rule:

Well usually I'm Little Miss Prolific, but the only other story I've got coming out soon-ish is Dirty Thirty, [link: ] which I'm really rather proud of. It's coming out October 8 from Ellora's Cave. It's an m/m/f menage—emphasis on the m/m—about Evan and Margie, a young married punk couple, plus Evan's thirtieth birthday present—Paul. It's a short story, and actually quite sweet underneath all the filthy filthy sex. And for people who haven't read my stuff before, I had another book out last month called Willing Victim [link: ]. It's somewhat controversial, but so far reader response has been crazy-positive, so I'd recommend that one, if you aren't put off by its kink.

And that was the interview! Told you she was orsum. And here’s the link to her orsum new novella, Backwoods, to prove it:

But wait! There’s more. If you want to comment and say hi to Cara, or hi to me, or talk about your dog, Peter, you can totally do that. And then I’ll enter you into a competition to win a copy of Backwoods! How brilliant is that?

But there’s even more! If you do decide to enter, or you enter the competition on Cara’s blog to win a copy of my novella, The Horizon, here:

You will also be in with a chance of winning actual $5 Good Vibrations gift cards, courtesy of the lovely Cara McKenna, who thinks of doing things like that and then buys them to give away, unlike me, who doesn't and is a fool and then isn't sure how to pay my half for this deal, and offers to buy her a book cos she lives across the ocean and it seems weird to send three quid through Paypal. Not only that, but her post about me is orsum and contains hamsters, and she knew to put in all sorts of important info like twitter stuff. Which I've totally forgotten to do! You can find her on twitter, and she's hella funny and amazing so follow her immediatly!

Me and her are getting orsum at this pimping lark. Well, she is. I'm kind of sort of maybe. Possibly.

I'm not at all, am I.

ETA: The competition will close on Saturday, like Cara sez! Yeah, I'm really bad at this promo stuff.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Bonus Super Fun Lucky Time!

Yes, that's right folks. It's bonus super fun lucky time! Because this week, I have not one, but TWO releases out! I can't even believe that. I won't be surprised if you find it difficult to comprehend.

How did I get this lucky? I don't know. But now, I want to give you guys some super lucky fun time, in return for this bounty all over me. And yeah, I know it's not a man from my harem or a Kindle or anything truly orsum. Actually, when I think about it, it's a very small thing indeed. It's just a copy of The Horizon, and a copy of Threefold.

But even so! All you have to do is comment, wave, show your bum- you know the drill, by now. And then I'll put your name in the hat, and one (or maybe two...duh duh DUH!) lucky winners of the super fun variety will get a copy of my first fabulous release from Ellora's Cave, AND a copy of the amazing anthology I'm in, alongside such actual luminaries as Kim Dare, Desiree Holt, Brynn Paulin, Kris Norris and Suzanne Graham!

So actually, when you think about it, you get whole novellas. And the novellas are about hot sex in space due to sex pollen, and menages.

I mean, who could ask for more? But if you are still asking for more, here's the blurb for my release from Ellora's Cave (out this Friday, September 10th):

When Quade swoops in to save his archenemy, Sol, from bloodthirsty Cybers, he doesn’t expect to find himself almost torn apart, terrified beyond imagining and even worse—declaring his love for her.

Now they’re trapped on Sol’s spaceship, both half-insane due to the Cybers pumping them full of some lust drug. If they can’t get a hold of themselves quickly, they’re going to be doing some pretty dirty things.

But surprisingly, Sol doesn’t seem to mind that newfound feelings are bursting out all over—especially when said feelings pave the way for wild and constant sex with her former enemy.

And the to buy link, in case you're not quite fortunate enough to win the super lucky fun prize:

And here's the blurb for my story in Threefold, Lust Dazed:

Ellie, Evan and Jimmy have always been best friends. They work together, play together, support each other and...accidentally eavesdrop on each other, doing some very dirty things.

When Ellie hears what Evan and Jimmy have been doing behind her back - watching smutty movies that feature women who look just like her - she doesn't know whether to be bemused or offended. Or maybe just hugely turned on.

And that's not even getting into the secret crush Jimmy seems to have on Evan...or the plans he has for the three of them, now that everything's out in the open...

And the to buy link, cos it's out now!


ETA: I'm also running a competition to win Threefold over at Erotica For All, so if you fancy two chances to win, pop on over to Lucy Felthouse's brilliant site!

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Some Things What Have Happened To Me

Tigerlily was reviewed over at Whipped Cream:

They gave it four cherries, and the reviewer, Tiger Lily (no, really) said: "If you want a story with bittersweet moments, white-hot sex, and a hero that’s yummy, you need to read Tigerlily."

Go team me, yay!

I also don't think I mentioned that I got a cover for The Horizon (there are only, like, six days until it's out!), but you may have seen it in the sidebar, Bertha. It looks like this:

Which is's so that the sun shining out of his butt? Oh, how apt.

Let's see...I also started doing Goodreads. I don't know how you do Goodreads, but Goodreads seems to like it. Here is me on Goodreads:

I spend all of my time on it doing one of my most favourite things: pressing a load of buttons until stuff flashes up. It tells me I rated this! It gives me updates, to tell me what other people are reading! I never previously knew that I could be so fascinated by what everyone else is reading!

Also, you may be able to see that I have only written one review. And it's a searing diatrible on the futility of existence and the true nature of art and literature, with all of its power to elevate or degrade.

Either that, or it's a comment about an A-Team comic book. Before you even click on that link, gentle Bertha, I know you will have invested your faith in me, and decided which one of the above reviews I have so painstakingly crafted. And believe me, I do not let you down.

In further news, I'm beavering away at something I'm loving writing more than any other thing since The Horizon, probably. The hero is crazy, the heroine is in love with his crazy, they go on the lam...oh, love. I listen to the synth wonders of the Starman soundtrack, and just want to write it forever.

Which probably means it's awful. God, I hope it's not awful.