Janine Ashbless's Blog, page 130

Eyecandy Monday - boobies!

Heh - I'm on a breast thing at the moment for some reason. Particularly pics of them caught at that undressing moment just before they're about to pop out into full glorious view. It's the anticipation. The drama.



The ...


Uh . . . what was I saying?



 . . .  before - OMG - this ...

:-D

Florence

I've been on a day-trip to Florence! Not from the UK, obviously, but I happened to be in the vicinity and allowed a day off from eating parmesan cheese and frigging myself blind writing.

So, naturally, I thought I'd start with a picture of the cock of David, because that's the most postcarded thing in the city. Michelangelo would be proud, I'm sure :-)



It's a beautiful, beautiful city, crammed with ancient palaces and topped with red-tiled roofs just made for Assassin's Creed. The Duomo (cathedral) is also pretty photogenic. That's coloured marble in the facade, not paint, btw.

The inside is surprising bare, except for the interior of the dome, which is this VAST fresco of the Last Judgement and just has to be seen for its jaw-dropping violence and sadism.


Vivisection anyone?


Yes, that's people being rammed up the arse and cunt with burning stakes, for the sin of lust. (I have my personalised stake booked in advance, naturally.)

You can climb right up on top of the exterior of the dome for a fab view of the city. This is the point at which I realised why Brits fall in love with Italy.
Right next to the Duomo is the Baptistry, which boasts a stunning gilded mosaic all over the roof dome. Shiny! "That's it - get out! Next stop the burning stake up the ass!"
We did go to the Uffizi Gallery and saw a whole load of Botticelli paintings, but you're not allowed to take photos in there . . . so here's the interior of the toilet door in the cafe where we had lunch:

Same idea as the Birth of Venus, really, just slightly different execution.Okay, that's enough crude porn - let's have some more high culture!


Here's my Super Tourist Tip for you if you go to Florence. If you find yourself in a queue for anything (the Ufizzi or the Duomo for example), just look for the nice ladies with the clipboards and the uniforms. They will sell you a ticket for slightly less than double the usual entry fee, which will allow you to waltz straight past the queue. This will save you hours, literally. Just live with the guilt. I'm telling you, it's worth it.


:-)

Excerpt: No Running, No Petting

My poolside m/m/f story No Running, No Petting is out TWICE OVER from Xcite Books - as the lead story in Foreign Affairs: erotic relations in exotic locations (out TODAY - at least in theory - in paperback, also already available on Kindle), and as one of 5 stories taken from that anthology and published in a smaller collection as an e-book: No Running, No Petting.


Here's an excerpt:

Lena and Vittor work in a hotel in Malta, but they can't focus on clearing tables and making beds, when what they're really both interested in is the male guests. The two of them hunt together, the perfect pair. And when they spot Rolf, a Swedish silver fox, the scene is set for a threesome and some very naughty poolside fun.


The other great thing about the roof garden is that no one can see in.

When I go up that day, Room 406 is already on his sun-lounger, tapping a pencil against his upper lip as he reads his papers. Vittor is waiting behind the bar, ready to lock the stair door as I put on a distraction. I do my best: I’m wearing only a tiny bikini of brilliant yellow lycra. I know how it draws the eye. I’m short, but there are deep curves to my hips and arse and waist. I shake out my long dark hair and stride over to the pool, my breasts jiggling enticingly with every step.

I can feel his eyes on me. But at first I ignore him. I slip into the aquamarine water and do some lazy widths on my back, rolling every so often to show off my bum in its yellow thong. Whenever I put a hand on the pool edge and look covertly in his direction, pretending to catch my breath, Room 406 is watching me.

Then Vittor comes out and joins in, stripped down to his red trunks. We make a helluva contrast; him so big and me so little, but both of us bronzed and glistening, both young and beautiful. We giggle and play together, splashing and kissing. Maybe you remember those old signs they used to have around public poolsides – No running, no petting, no ducking –? Well, we break all those rules. I wriggle out of Vittor’s arms and haul myself out of the pool, squealing as he chases me to try and swat my arse.

Ever seen a dog chase something past another dog? Dog number two can’t help but join in. I run in a little too close to our engineer and then stumble, tripping into him: he puts out his arms to catch me. Part of him thinks he’s saving me from a fall, but I know what his underlying instinct is.

‘Sorry!’ I gasp, landing in his lap. I’ve been told his English is good. ‘Oh, I’m sorry! I’ve got you all wet!’
I’ve got him all hard too. It’s not subtle, I know, but what man likes subtle? He’s got shorts on and his legs are tanned and muscular – I just bet he cycles and skis to work at his factory or his university or whatever it is back home. But he’s got a stiffy under those shorts and it’s poking me.

Vittor stands a few metres back, grinning.

‘That’s OK,’ Room 406 says hoarsely, his hands still on my waist.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Rolf.’

‘Hi, Rolf. I’m Lena. And that’s Vittor.’

‘He is your boyfriend?’ Rolf is a bit confused, and a bit nervous.

I giggle and shrug, which is about as accurate as it gets. ‘Want to join us in the pool?’

He hesitates, then nods. He can’t stop looking at the pool water beaded on my breasts, and my nipples poking up through the yellow bikini fabric. I give him a good flash of my arse as I stand, though, and lead the way to the water’s edge, barely giving him time to shed his shirt and glasses. ‘First one to catch me ...’ I call, and dive.
Buy at Xcite Books

Foreign Affairs on Kindle   No Running, No Petting on Kindle (Amazon US)

Foreign Affairs in paperback   Foreign Affairs on Kindle  No Running, No Petting on Kindle (Amazon UK)

Bound by Lust guest post: Andrea Dale

We're out and we're proud!

Bound by Lust is out, that is - an anthology of BDSM romance. And we (the authors) are so proud of this fabulous collection that for the next few weeks we're blogging all over each other's sites like some great big poly orgy ;-)

Shanna Germain, our semi-divine editor, kicked off yesterday with a post about the intricacies of assembling a themed anthology - there's way more to it than putting the call out and picking the stories you like best.

Today contributing author Andrea Dale is my guest here. Her story is called A Few Things to Pick Up on Your Way Home (gah, I'm jealous of her already! What a great title!) and at this point I'm going to welcome her here and let her tell you all about it . . .


"I like to take chances, try new things, stretch myself when I’m writing. I did that twice with “A Few Things to Pick Up on Your Way Home”: I wrote from a male point-of-view, and I wrote an erotica story in which no sex, and almost no touching, takes place. In fact, except for the first few paragraphs, the couple aren’t even together. In many ways, it ends up being a phone-sex story.

And kind of an exhibitionism story.

And kind of a BDSM story.

But at its heart, at its core, it’s romantic, like so many of my stories are. Not necessarily a romance with a boy-meets-girl arc—it’s about a married couple—but romantic in the sense that the husband knows (and adores) his wife, knows what she likes, knows how to push her buttons and how far he can push those buttons; and the wife knows (and adores) her husband, and trusts him even when he’s pushing her boundaries…. And yet, in some ways, they’re still learning about each other.

To me, that’s heart-thumpingly romantic

Want a tease? Of course you do! To set the scene: Gabrielle’s in a sex shop, on the phone with her husband Jake….


“Jake, I can’t stand here and describe—”

“Sure you can,” he said, keeping his voice casual. “It’ll be fun. Tell me what you see. Tell me what you like.”

He heard the catch in her breath. She was figuring out this was a game.

She’d be embarrassed, but she’d get turned on. She could be deliciously uninhibited at home, but outside she still clung to that corporate persona, concerned about how she presented herself.

He was pretty sure he could convince her to play the game, even if she didn’t yet realize how much of it he’d been planning.

“They’ve got them in every color, of course,” she said. “I—I like the realistic ones better than the plain, smooth ones.”

“Why?”

She was silent for a moment. Finally, “I guess they feel better. Inside.”

“Go on,” he said. He resisted the urge to touch himself. Not so soon. He was hard, though, thinking about Gabrielle in the store, her cheeks flushing a shade of pink that complemented her outfit.

“I like the rabbit one, but we have one of those,” she said.

“So maybe we should think about clit vibes,” he said. “Maybe those little ones that go over your fingers.”

“Is that what you want me to get?”

She wanted to buy something and get out of there. But he still thrilled to the hint of submission in her question. “I think we’re still exploring our options,” he said. “What do you think? How would it feel if I wore them and ran my hand all over you? We could get two sets, for both hands. I’d caress every inch of you, get you all trembly before I even touched your clit.”

She made a little noise, like a mew. The sound went straight to his groin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Very quietly, almost so quiet that he couldn’t hear her, she said, “I’m getting turned on.”


To read more, pick up your very own copy of Bound by Lust! And if you’d like to check out my other works, stop by at my writing website or my publishing website (where you can get many of my stories as e-books!)"


Buy Bound by Lust at Amazon US : Amazon UK

Eyecandy Monday

Bound by Lust, the new anthology of BDSM romance, is having an inter-author blog tour over the next few weeks, so here are the dates and blog locations:

June 11 :  Shanna Germain : Welcome from the editor
June 12:  Janine Ashbless (I will be hosting Andrea Dale)
June 13:  Rachel Kramer Bussel (guest post by Sharazade)
June 14:  Allison Wonderland  (guest post by Craig Sorensen)
June 15:  Lisabet Sarai (guest post by Shanna Germain)
June 18:  Andrea Dale (guest post by Clarice Clique)
June 19:  Erotica for All (guest post by Kristina Wright)
June 20:  Alison Tyler
June 21:  Nikki Magennis (guest post by Allison Wonderland)
June 22:  Kristina Wright (guest post by Kristina Lloyd)
June 25:  Clarice Clique  (guest post by Justine Elyot)
June 26:  Vida Bailey (guest post by Veronica Wilde)
June 27:  Valerie Alexander (guest post by Teresa Noelle Roberts)
June 28:  (guest post by Alana Noel Voth)
June 29:  Kristina Lloyd  (guest post by Nikki Magennis)
July 2:     Jeremy Edwards (guest post by Vida Bailey)
July 3:     Teresa Noelle Roberts (guest post by Janine Ashbless)
July 4:     Dorla Moorehouse
July 5:     Justine Elyot  (guest post by Donna George Storey)
July 6:     Shanna Germain


Do join us!


Buy at Amazon US : Amazon UK

The Joy of Text

[click to enlarge]
I am learning to text!  I can manage a limited range of syntax, though I'm still incapable of capitization or emoticons. As I am working on a primitive phone which doesn't give me a virtual Qwerty but makes me count keystrokes (and where I still need to turn off the predictive text EVERY GODDAMN TIME), I now understand the lure of "r u" instead of "are you."

But I will resist, I tell you. To my dying breath ... Except in emergencies  ;-)
And I will always use the right "your."

Arthur Rackham

There are many fairies in Named and Shamed : some beautiful, some grotesque and some horrific. As I wrote, I had in mind - above all others - the pictures of Arthur Rackham (1867-1939), one of the true greats of the Golden Age of Illustration. His talent was applied to traditional folk stories, Wagner's Ring and the horror tales of Edgar Allen Poe, Alice in Wonderland and A Midsummer Night's Dream. He could be creepy, whimsical or sexy, but always completely convincing. His goblins lived and breathed.

So, anyway, here's a sampling of Rackham's pictures - to let you see what inspired me, and what the Fairyland of


 

 

Oh - Kay!

Heh. That's a well-placed rose!

Today I'm over at
Wildwood , btw, got the nuclear bomb-blast of all reviews some years back, when a deeply traumatised lady reviewer on some romance website described it with apoplectic outrage as "The worst book I've read this year, and one of the five worst books I've ever read in my life."

I think she may have been a little offended by all the sex. It's a good job she's never going to read Named and Shamed , because I think that would probably kill her stone dead.

Wildwood at Amazon US : Amazon UK

Eyecandy Monday

I swear, when I look at this picture I can actually feel myself turning into a bloke.

Not a man - a bloke.

Dinosaur dreams

For years I've dreams in which the world is suddenly menaced by a Tyrannosaurus Rex Apocalypse. Well, zombies are so predictable...

What better antidote to night terrors can there be than a jolly song about dinosaurs?

Velociraptor -He's gonna find ya!He's gonna kill ya!He's gonna eat ya!
And if you want more, and crazier, there is of course the Motherfucking Pterodactyl song.

(Yes, I know pterosaurs aren't dinosaurs, strictly speaking. Feh. Nerds.)