Cheyenne Blue's Blog, page 12
December 6, 2014
Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 – Wide White Sky
In celebration of the release of the second collection of my lesbian erotica, I’m posting a snippet and a nugget of background about each of the five stories in the volume.
The second story, Wide White Sky has been described as bittersweet, but I like to think it is a story of hope and of change. A woman traveling alone, taking some time for herself, stops in a small Utah town. The young bartender, Calamity, invites her to come with her the next day, on a seed collecting trip for the BLM. The outcome isn’t in doubt for either of them, and Calamity brings confidence and hope and self-discovery to the older woman.
Wide White Sky is one of the first pieces of lesbian fiction I ever wrote – back in 2001 to be exact. As with most of my stories, I was physically present in the setting I wrote about at the time, and the rugged and remote Utah landscape is as much a part of this story as the characters. I was camping in the San Rafael Swell, that wide expanse crossed only by 1-70 and a network of 4×4 tracks, populated by wild horses, mountain lions, and rattlesnakes, and I scrawled an opening scene and notes on a bit of paper that I promptly lost. I think it might have ended up in the campfire. Luckily, enough of the story stayed with me that I was able to recreate it when we got to St George.
Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 is out now from Ladylit, and on Amazon.
Or check out Blue Woman Stories Volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue on Ladylit or Amazon.
Her horse was ground tied. It stood with its head low, eyes closed, flap-lipped whiskery muzzle twitching in equine dreams. A pack was thrown carelessly onto the sagebrush, a Navajo blanket spilling out, a water bottle, and the military-surplus rucksack she used for collecting.
Calamity sat with her back resting against a pinyon pine. The ground around her was covered with cones, nuts, and husks, gnawed by squirrels and small things that creep. I sat and watched her for a moment from the back of my horse—an elderly and arthritic animal, the only one that the ranch would consider lending to an untried, middle-aged city woman to roam the high desert alone. I dismounted stiffly, my inner thighs aching in protest, and let the reins fall. The stock horse understood and drooped its head to dream with its companion.
She was watching me, her dark unfathomable eyes intent on my face, cataloging my awkward gait. “I knew you’d come,” she said.
In truth, I had wondered at my foolishness. A woman my age was supposed to be established in her career, successful in her marriage, with grown children maybe. She was not supposed to leave them all behind to pursue some nebulous dream of the West. Utah was a long way from New Jersey. A fractured mirror universe of possibilities and paths to be trodden.
The small Utah town had one motel and one bar. Calamity worked the bar; stalking the sagging timber floor with intent, flirting with the few customers, seducing them into leaving larger tips. She was a child of mixed race, whose heritage had given her not the smooth olive skin and curling hair that is so beautiful, but a patchwork of skin tones, a tapestry of birthmarks and pigmentation. Calamity. A name her mother had given her in anger and despair. The hurtful name she had made her own.
Of course, I was lonely, with the sad aura of a woman alone, whose dreams of escape were crumbling into reality. I did not know what I was doing here; I would not find myself in Utah, whose white respectability was safer and more straight-laced than my three thousand square subdivision in suburbia. So I sat at the bar, nursing my gin and tonic, and watched her. And then she touched me and flirted with me as indiscriminately as she did with the jowl-faced ranchers mumbling into their 3.2 beer. And the evening promised heady excitement, far from home.
“I harvest pinyon nuts,” she said. “I beat the sage for the Bureau of Land Management. Cut firewood. Come with me tomorrow.”
Her eyes spoke of more than gathering seeds. I agreed. So here I was, sitting awkwardly on the ground, my hair streaked with dust; leather and horse sweat ingrained in my jeans.
December 5, 2014
Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 – Perspex Window
In celebration of the release of the second collection of my lesbian erotica, I’m posting a snippet and a nugget of background about each of the five stories in the volume.
The first story, Perspex Window, is set on an Irish ferry as it plows its way on the overnight journey to France. Kate, who can’t quit her nicotine habit, is out on deck in the middle of the night, when her solitary ciggie is interrupted by Orla and Annie, who are taking advantage of the quiet night for some loving, having forgotten to book a cabin. An unexpected bond develops between the young lovers and their middle-aged voyeur.
I lived in Ireland for several years, and each year we’d take the ferry to France — for a holiday in Europe, or simply a shopping trip for the cheap wine and huge selection of cheese. Sometimes we’d sleep on deck and watch the moonglade on the sea, freeze our arses off in the wind, and watch the few who would brave the cold for fresh air and a view. One time, when I couldn’t sleep, I conceived the idea for Perspex Window as I sat and shivered and watched the sea and sipped my wine.
Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 is out now from Ladylit, and on Amazon.
Or check out Blue Woman Stories Volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue on Ladylit or Amazon.
A door crashes open behind her. Laughter, slurred and female, reaches her across the non-slip blue matting.
“For feck’s sake, Annie, can’t you walk in a straight line?” The voice is young and Dublin, and has an indulgent lilt to its censorial question.
“I can so. It’s this bleedin’ boat that can’t sail straight.”
Kate watches the women making their stumbling way to the railing. One bird-thin and fragile, the other stout with draught-horse buttocks; one with cropped hair, the other with a mess of tangled curls. They hold each other’s arms as they weave their way across the deck.
“Not here,” the thin one with cropped hair, Annie, mutters. “Anyone can see us.”
“There’s no one around.”
Annie is led back to a dubious shelter, to a nook behind one of the entrance doors, sheltered from the wind by a sheet of rust and Perspex.
Kate waits, watching idly, as she finishes her cigarette and takes a sip of Chardonnay. She can see them clearly, but obviously they haven’t noticed her.
“Here,” curly-head says decisively.
She turns crop-head and wraps her arms around her. Her mouth comes down, and Kate stifles a gasp. The kiss is long. Kate huddles deeper into her jacket and sips. Women. Kissing.
She’s not naive; she knows it happens, and happens here in Ireland, in spite of the church’s stranglehold. And she has sometimes wondered, in a sort of vague afterthought way when the TV showed a lesbian kiss, what it would be like. But never has she seen it unfold in front of her. The cigarette burns down to the butt as the women kiss, and Kate watches. It’s a long kiss, a deep, drugging kiss, and the two figures merge in the moon-wrapped night, blend into the deep blue of the deck matting, fade into the shadows of the lifeboats. And still they kiss. Kate can hear the short pants of breath merging with the lap of the water against the sides, and the creak of the boat as she rolls. She waits, not wanting to interrupt them now, although will they even notice?
They break apart. “I love it when you kiss me like that,” the one called Annie says.
“You’ll like what I’m about to do better.”
“Orla, no, not here-”
“Here, yes here.” Orla is insistent. “There’s no one around. All the families have gone to bed. The football has finished. And if you’d booked a cabin we’d be in it now, loving our brains out in peace and privacy instead of out here on deck.”
“It’s cold,” Annie whines, but Kate can see her hands burrowing around Orla’s waist, pushing up the bulky sweater to reveal a line of white flesh. Is it really that ethereal white, or is it the moonlight?
“You were hot inside,” points out Orla.
She’s the one choreographing this. Kate can see her pressing Annie into the Perspex, her hands moving purposefully over the waif-like body.
Kate knows she should move. Her cigarette is finished, and she should return to the privacy of her own cabin, go to bed and sleep. But instead, she takes a sip of wine, and continues to watch. Orla and Annie.
November 26, 2014
Blue Woman Stories Volume 2
Release days are my favorite days of the year. Cheaper than Christmas, more exciting than tennis finals, less fattening than birthdays.
Hot on the heels of the first collection of my lesbian erotica, Blue Woman Stories Volume 1, I am now extremely excited to present…. yes, you’ve guessed it: Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 published by Ladylit.
Love triumphs as opposites attract in the Colorado Rockies, an unwitting voyeur has an eye-opening encounter on an Irish ferry, and love takes a lifetime to arrive in the poignant Glory B.
Cheyenne Blue’s lesbian erotica has been a staple of many anthologies since 2000. This second volume of her collected work contains five more of her finely woven lesbian tales.
Check out Blue Woman Stories Volume 2 on Amazon, over at Ladylit, or add it to your Goodreads page.
November 20, 2014
Find me over at Emily L. Byrne’s blog
Today I’m very happy to be guest blogging over at Emily L. Byrne’s blog. I’ve been between the covers with Emily and her alter ego, Catherine Lundoff, on several occasions in the past, most recently in “Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire“. Go and check out Emily’s story “The Adventures of Miss Scarlet”. You won’t be sorry.
Today, I’m talking how some people think they know what you write, and about my single author collection, “Blue Woman Stories Volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue” and the upcoming Volume 2.
Go check me out at Emily’s.
November 1, 2014
Thunderclap (not quite AC/DC)
After reading Lucy Felthouse‘s excellent post on the subject at the Erotica Readers blog, I’m trying out Thunderclap, a free promotion tool. It spins off the crowd funding model, but instead of pledging money, people simply sign up to pledge a tweet or a Facebook mention, or other social media on a specific date. It doesn’t cost, and it seems to be painless. Both of those are big attractions for someone like me, with limited funds for promotion and who simply wants to curl up in a ball under the kitchen cabinets and forget about this self-promotion lark anyway.
I’ll let you know how it works out, but so far, the experience has been simple to get started. You design your campaign and link it to your social media account (I chose Twitter). It took me 15 minutes to design my campaign, 7 of which were spent hunting for the “embed code” button so that I could add my campaign to my website. (Hint: the “embed” button is verrrryyy small and you have to click into your campaign on the public search pages to find it, not via your account.) I wrote a message to potential supporters, uploaded a graphic, and of course wrote the tweet I would like to go out at the end of the campaign.
If you chose the free options, your campaign will be approved and go live within 3 days, however, mine was live in under 24 hours. I guess this will change as Thunderclap becomes more popular.
Now to wait and see if I get any supporters!
In a tie in with Alison Tyler’s most excellent post about writers supporting other writers, I’ve supported any other erotic writers I found on Thunderclap. My own campaign is below. I would be very appreciative if you were to click to support me.
And now that AccaDacca song “Thunderstruck” is rolling around my head, reworded as “thunderclap”. Still I can think of worse songs to have stuck in your head, like “Tie a Yellow Ribbon ’round the old oak tree….” OH NOOOOOOOOO…
October 30, 2014
Cougars: The Allure of the Older Woman
The allure of the older woman. Or desire for a much younger one. If these scenarios are your thing, then you are going to love “Cougars” the upcoming mini anthology from Ladylit.
Following the successes of Bossy, Sweat, and A Christmas to Remember, Ladylit has once again rounded up the same five authors for their latest collection.
Here’s the Table of Contents:
Reunion Tour by Harper Bliss
Gorgon and Goat by Cheyenne Blue
Bali High by Erzabet Bishop
The Girl Next Door by Laila Blake
Returning Riley by Lucy Felthouse
Look out for “Cougars” in early November.
October 2, 2014
October 1, 2014
Release Day – Blue Woman Stories
It’s here.
Blue Woman Stories volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue contains five of my erotic lesbian stories gathered lovingly together under the (very beautiful) cover.
This has been a long time coming – fourteen years coming in fact. My first published lesbian story, A Tangle of Vines ended up in Best Lesbian Erotica 2003. And now, it’s here, in Blue Woman Stories along with four other sizzling lesbian tales.
Here’s the Table of Contents:
What If?
Tangle of Vines
Car Bomb
How Does Your Garden Grow
Cully’s Run
Check out Blue Woman Stories volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue on Ladylit for all sales information, or on Amazon.
September 25, 2014
Blue Woman Stories volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue
Look! Look! Isn’t it beautiful! This is the cover reveal for my upcoming collection of short stories. Blue Woman Stories volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue is the first ever collection of my stories under the same cover. Volume 1 contains five erotic lesbian stories, gathered from the over 90 stories I’ve had published in anthologies over the years. My first lesbian story was published in 2001, and I’m still going.
A long-time couple weave a fantasy of seducing a straight woman, old friends become lovers in the French countryside, and a cop sent to investigate a suspected dope grower finds more than she expects in a tropical garden. Cheyenne Blue’s lesbian erotica has been a staple of many anthologies since 2000. Blue Woman Stories Volume 1 collects together for the first time five of her best-loved stories.
Here’s the Table of Contents:
What If?
Tangle of Vines
Car Bomb
How Does Your Garden Grow
Cully’s Run
Blue Woman Stories volume 1: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue will be out next week from Ladylit.
PS After Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire I swore that my next book would have a shorter title. Guess not. 
September 22, 2014
The final stop
The Forbidden Fruit blog tour ends today, back where it all started at Ladylit’s site. Stop by, say hello, leave a comment to be in the running to win some great lesbian erotica prizes.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the blog tour for Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire. I hope you check out the anthology, if you haven’t done so already, and please consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon.
Read and enjoy those forbidden fruit, paperback or ebook.
Leave a comment on any post in the Forbidden Fruit blog tour to be entered into a random draw to win one of these great prizes. Prizes include a paperback copy ofGirls Who Score, lesbian sports erotica edited by Ily Goyanes, Best Lesbian Romance 2011 edited by Radclyffe, an ebook of Ladylit’s first lesbian anthology Anything She Wants, and a bundle of three mini-anthologies from Ladylit: Sweat, A Christmas to Remember and Bossy. All of these titles contain some stories written by the fabulous contributors to Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire. You must include an email address in your comment to be entered into the draw.
Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire is available direct from Ladylit or from Amazon, Smashwords, and other good retailers of ebooks. Check out the Forbidden Fruit book page for all purchasing information.
