Cheyenne Blue's Blog, page 18

There’s a greyhound called…

There’s a greyhound called Cheyenne Blue registered with the Greyhound Racing Victoria

The Marvel That Is 2013

Artwork from Floating Land, Boreen Point

I’ve seen a lot of 2013 round ups posted, so I’m hauling myself onto the bandwagon.

2013 was a fairly quiet year for me and mine.



Writing

Definitely down from 2012, which was a bumper year, but I’m still out there, hanging on. That should be my motto: Hanging On Since 2000. Fingers to keyboard. Brain to keyboard (whatever happened to those fingers in the loop? There’s a bypass, I swear there is). Writing achievements that made me happy included:

- 8 stories in print and pixels this year.

- worked with a new (to me) publisher, Ladylit, and new (to me) editors, as well as several Cleis acceptances.

- made it back into Best Lesbian Erotica 2014 after a gap of several years (which included making the short list on multiple occasions but not the final cut. There’s one year where my story is mentioned in the blurb, but didn’t make the book!).

- writing a foreword for the wonderful Alison Tyler.

- Got three stories out there in the waiting room at the moment (hmmmm, and one of those I better follow up).

- Wrote a bunch of new stuff too, some of which has already found homes.

- Downloaded Scrivener. Quite impressed. It might wean me off my pantser ways.

- FINALLY got around to adding in a way to track royalty earnings in my Spiffy Submission Database, which I developed myself oh, about 7 years ago. Now all I have to do is make the royalty tracking actually WORK, and I’m set.

- Decided this was the year to stop lurking around the internet and actually post stuff. Blog posts. Comments (only I’m not so good at that as bloody WordPress never validates me correctly. There are only so many times I can type in those slanty letters before I swear and walk away). Goodreads! (Adore Goodreads). Twitter!

I also have very exciting writing things in the pipeline for the start of 2014.

Personal

In no particular order. Still in Queensland, Australia, not going anywhere in the immediate future. A wonderful visit back to Denver and an even better visit to Montreal. Still housesitting. Exercise was a bummer in 2013 due to recurring injury, but have great hopes for 2014, thanks to a lovely Canadian physio who tortures with Active Release Therapy. Told old boss to get fucked in 2013 and wrote best resignation letter ever. Certainly the most truthful. Got a new job, working from home for more money. Perfected sourdough baking. Started making cheese. Cooked and baked a storm. Curry pastes from scratch. Made new friends. Nurtured old and dear friends. Read 76 books. Swore a lot more than usual (so that would be all the fucking time). Bought a house. Rented it. Time in the ocean. Time with animals. Time alone. Time in the bush. Time with my wonderful partner. Tennis time. Sunshine and sweat. Homegrown vegetables. Scattered ashes. Still adore my 1980 Volvo. Still buy clothes from op shops. Still try and own as little as possible. Still love those I love.

May you have enough in 2014.

Happy Holidays (and lots of money off good stuff!)

Happy holidays, in whatever way you celebrate, or not. It’s seafood, surf and Aussie bubbles for us. It’s now 1pm and I’ve already had my second swim of the day.

The dog is knackered, having spent 2 hours chasing sticks and being dumped by waves, and shortly, I’m going to make mango salsa to go with our prawns and Moreton Bay Bugs for xmas lunch. Then it will be a shady spot by the water with something juicy on the Kindle, and another glass of bubbly. Perfect day, eh?

Talking of e-readers, here’s something to keep you happy during the holiday lethargy when the couch with an e-reader seems like the absolute best thing to do: JMS Books are offering 40% off on their entire range from now until New Year’s Day. A whopping 40% off everything. Authors you know and authors you’d like to know. Fill up your e-reader!

Hey, you can buy me for just over $1! My offerings:

False Creek Ferry

Dublin Buy and Sell

Cheyenne’s Favourite Erotic Stories Read in 2013

My favorite erotic stories are ones with heart. I don’t necessarily mean romantic hearts and flowers, I mean stories which offer something beyond sex, something beyond Tab X into Slot Y. You could say my favorite erotic stories are stories first, and erotic second. Call me old school.

My top ten stories listed here are all short stories published in multi-author anthologies. I’m a lover of the short story, both to read and to write, and while I’ve read some wonderful longer works this year, I’m sticking with shorts for my choices. I’m picking single stories though, as most of the anthologies are ones in which I too have a story.

Again, this list is in no particular order. Links go to the anthology.

Need a last minute holiday gift? All of these are available as ebooks. All

“Canvas” by Renee Roberts from “Down and Dirty: 69 Super Sexy Short-Shorts” edited by Alison Tyler. The narrator yearns for the inked dom behind the bar. And she gets her in a flickering reality of skin and ink and words laid as precisely as tattoos on virgin skin.
“Making Myself at Home” by Jeremy Edwards from The Mammoth Book of Quick & Dirty Erotica edited by Maxim Jakubowski. A layered tale about watching and being watched.
“Midnight Clear” by Laila Blake from “A Christmas to Remember: Five Festive Tales of Lesbian Lust” put out by Ladylit. Naked scampering in the snow, and a poignant tale of warmth and friendship and something more.
“Foxy and the Ridiculous Lesbian Orgy” by Allison Moon from “Wild Girls, Wild Nights: True Lesbian Sex Stories” edited by Sacchi Green. A highly original set up and a fantastic romp of a tale.
“What I Want, What I Need” by Jacqueline Applebee from “Twice the Pleasure: Bisexual Women’s Erotica” edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. A wonderfully fluid tale about a lesbian getting over a breakup.
“Come to the Light” by Maria See from “Sudden Sex: 69 Sultry Short Stories” edited by Alison Tyler. A butch with DDD breasts. I loved this subtle little story, and how it throws aside stereotypes.
“The History of Her Tongue” by Shaun Levin also from The Mammoth Book of Quick & Dirty Erotica edited by Maxim Jakubowski. Literary erotica as it used to be. Truly stunning. If I had to pick one story as my favorite, it would be this one.
“One More Transformation” by Nobilis Reed from “Coming Together: In Vein edited by Lisabet Sarai. Highly original (and hot) vampire story.
“Sgt. Rae” by Sacchi Green from Best Lesbian Romance 2013 edited by Radclyffe. A powerful story of love and memory between military women.
“Tripartite” by Georgia E Jones from “Sudden Sex: 69 Sultry Short Stories” edited by Alison Tyler. This atmospheric story is about that most delicious of scenarios: friends into lovers.

Cheyenne’s Ten Favorite Books Read in 2013

I’m not a person who needs stuff. I’m a low maintenance kind of person: I wear my clothes until they disintegrate, I don’t own any make up or girly accoutrements, I don’t want jewelry or knickknacks on my mantlepiece. But there are two things I love to receive as gifts: foodie things and books. Oh, and wine. (Three things. I lied).

It’s even easier since I got my Kindle as my books are now in one teeny compact package. It’s a toss up which I would miss the most: my smartphone or my Kindle.

Like most writers, I read a lot of books, and I love to review and talk about them over at Goodreads (Friend me, people, I’d love it if you did!).

Goodreads makes lists like this so easy. No more bits of paper or a Word file that I can never find again on the laptop once I’ve created it. Now I have the books I’ve read, those I want to read, and books I’ve written in one place.

So using Goodreads, here are the top 10 books I’ve read during 2013. They’re in no particular order. To read my complete review, follow the links to Goodreads.

1. At the Mouth of the River of Bees: Stories by Kij Johnson

Magical short stories of fantastic beauty and grace.

2. Lips Touch: Three Time by Laini Taylor

A trio of novellas on the theme of a first kiss that changes everything.

3. The Engagement by Chloe Hooper

A chilling mindfuck of a book about power and manipulation. Simply brilliant.

4. Our Lady of Alice Bhatti by Mohammed Hanif

A slow burn of a book. An unsettling mix of ensemble characters. Recommended.

5. Eleanor McGraw, a pony named Mouse and a Boy Called Fire by Katharina Marcus

A random Kindle that was oh, so wonderful. A tale of relationships, horses, and love.

6. The.Powerbook by Jeanette Winterson

Lyrical prose from one of Britain’s most gifted writers. Mesmerizing.

7. What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami

Resonated powerfully with me. A meditation on two themes close to my heart.

8. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

A magical book that unfolded like blankets out of the dryer.

9. Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan

If I had to pick one book as my book of the year, this would be it.

10. Letters of a Woman Homesteader by Elinore Pruitt Stewart

Charming, chatty letters from a woman homesteading on the Wyoming frontier in 1908.

After I’d compiled my list, I picked up another book to read. I would add it to my top ten, but which one would I remove? I can’t do the cut, so:

11. The Tent by Margaret Atwood.

Tiny fictional essays that cut to the dark heart of things and make you smile as they do so.

So I lied again. This is my Eleven Favorite Books Read in 2013.

So you notice there was no erotica in this list? I’ve read some wonderful erotica this year. Stories and collections that I’ve adored, from my favorite writers, and new ones I’ve discovered. I think the erotica deserves its own list.

Cheyenne’s Holiday Gift Guide – Part 3

I’m leaving kitchen gadgets behind for today’s Bad Santa gift idea. At least, I hope I am. The Ipotty is woeful enough already, without having it in your kitchen. The Ipotty is a toilet training potty for your toddler with an Ipad attached to it. My first thought was shitty fingers all over the Ipad right before it’s dropped somewhere that would make you think twice about retrieving it. My second thought was that it’s the foundation for a lifetime of constipation. “Not finished mummy… Still not finished…” Maybe it’s made by the makers of Ex Lax.

Quick… Another idea, before my brain implodes.

A far better idea, and today’s Good Santa gift is the brand new lesbian erotica anthology from Ladylit. “A Christmas To Remember” features five brand new stories from Ezrabet Bishop, Lucy Felthouse, Laila Blake, Harper Bliss and moi. This is the same line up who scorched the pages earlier in the year in “Sweat”, also from Ladylit.

There’s a fine variety of stories in this anthology. From the obligatory office party to a cabin in the woods, Christmas celebrations come in all shapes and sizes. The ladies in this Christmas anthology like to keep it original though, and get their festive groove on in bed shops and the Australian outback, not to mention the ‘Mermaids and Mistletoe Masquerade Ball’… A Christmas to Remember contains five lesbian erotica stories that will make your Christmas merry AND hot.

My story, “Outback Christmas” is set in the Australian Outback (duh!). Simona’s lover, Casey, has snapped her Achilles tendon falling off a ladder. While Casey is going crazy from the enforced rest, Simona is working for two, slaving in the heat and dust of a Queensland summer. A hot and sweaty story in more ways than one.

Here’s an excerpt:

She was doing everything, while Casey lay on the bed and listened to Radio National or spent short periods at the computer. Casey was frustrated; she was helpless, angry, and worried she wasn’t pulling her weight. It wasn’t about a Christmas gift. It went deeper than that. It delved into the layers of their relationship, the give and take.

Simona narrowed her eyes. “Well, I want a present,” she said. “And I want it now. It’s Christmas Eve. I’ll have my present early.”

A tiny wrinkle of confusion creased Casey’s forehead. “But I just said-“

“You big nong.” Simona stood, and her fingers moved to the front of her lightweight shirt. “There’s something you can give me.” The shirt fell to the floor, followed by her cotton bra.

The movement of air felt good on her bare skin. Still hot, still sweltering in the hottest part of the day, but better. She unzipped her jeans, and peeled them down her sticky legs. Horsehairs came loose and drifted in the current from the fan, joining the dust on the timber boards she hadn’t had time to vacuum.

Her panties were damp with sweat, and she hooked her fingers in the band, dragged them down, kicked them away. Naked, she stood at the end of the bed, hands on her hips, tendrils of long dark hair clinging damply to her neck.

“No present? You have something I want, Casey Jane Morotti, and it’s time you delivered.” She stepped around the bed and locked eyes with her lover. There was a wicked gleam in Casey’s eyes, one that Simona hadn’t seen since the day she’d found her crumpled in a heap at the bottom of their roofing ladder. Dark eyes locked together, offered, accepted, and sparkled in anticipation.

“I’ve been working hard,” Simona said in conversational tones. “I’ve exercised four horses, backed the colt, taken the ute down the bore paddock to fix the fence along the creek. Had to push start it by myself too, which isn’t easy. Killed a mulga snake, finished the guttering you left incomplete when you inconveniently fell off the ladder. Talked to Matt about the colt’s progress, and you know I loathe talking to owners. Swept the yard, shot half a dozen rabbits, did the laundry, fixed the dishwasher, and cooked dinner every night. Not bad tucker either, if I say so myself. But now it’s reward time.” She kneeled on the bed, swinging one lean thigh over Casey, so that her spread thighs were above Casey’s face. “I want to come twice before we even think about you. Tongue only the first time; the second you can use fingers or toys as well.”

There was just time to see the surprise in Casey’s eyes before she lowered her pussy onto Casey’s face. Surprise because Simona was seldom the assertive one, preferring to satisfy her lover before taking her own pleasure. She clutched the iron bedhead to help support her weight, and closed her eyes.

Casey’s fingers smoothed their way up Simona’s thigh, their light touch deepening the well of desire that already pooled in her belly. Simona tightened her calves around Casey’s ears. “I said tongue only.”

Cheyenne’s Holiday Gift Guide – Part 2

It’s hard to leave the kitchen for the bad gift guide. There is so much stuff from the esoteric to gadgets for the inept, that I can’t go past it.

Right now, I’m writing an erotic story about tomatoes. The most luscious of fruit; what’s not to love about them, with their ripe red skins and sweet juiciness? Most everyone loves tomatoes – except the protagonist in my story. So I guess I’m rather fixated on the kitchen at present.

Today’s Bad Santa Gift isn’t to do with tomatoes though. The best thing I can find to say about it is that it will only set you back $4. The Oreo Cookie Dunking Spoon – for those people who can’t bear to touch their food maybe? I rather think that by the time you’ve dug this out of the back of a drawer, your coffee will be cold and useless for dunking. To be honest, my first thought when I saw this was that it was a pair of tick pliers for removing the blighters from you or the dog. I’ve got some tick pliers that look exactly like this (but smaller) in my first aid kit.

Good Santa Gift

Now here’s a gift that lasts and lasts. Learn to improve your erotica and sex on the page with this book from Ashley Lister: How to Write Erotic Fiction and Sex Scenes. Ashley is a master craftsman in the erotica world – anyone with dozens of novels and over 100 short stories published must be doing something right. His book will help you (or the writer in your life) improve the heat factor coming from the keyboard.

I’m very flattered that Ashley uses an example from one of my stories in his book. Ashley blogs about the book (and other stuff), and has collected a series of tips from writers and editors about their creative process. There’s some fascinating gems to read (and nearly everyone stresses the importance of editing). *Nods* Oh yeah, baby. Edit away. You can read my tips over on Ashley’s book blog here

Ho, ho, fucking ho: Cheyenne’s Holiday Gift Guide – Part 1

I admit it. I’m a bit of a grinch when it comes to Christmas. My ideal Christmas is spent camped in the bush or by the beach, with some delicious food, fine wine, and only my partner for company. Oh, and fine weather as it’s the start of the wet season in my part of Queensland.

Part of what makes me grumpy around this time of year is the mindless consumerism of it all. Endless racing around spending money you probably don’t have (if the surveys on Christmas spending and credit card debt are even remotely accurate) buying crap for people who would much rather have a decent bottle of Shiraz. Or the money. Or even a pair of socks.

Of course there are some gifts you have to buy. The office Bad Santa, the family Kris Kringle, something special for your special one. A marrowbone chew toy for Boris the dog.

So here is Cheyenne’s Holiday Gift Guide – Part 1: a couple of suggestions of what not to buy and what to buy this holiday season.

Bad Santa Gift

An asparagus peeler. WTF? I’m a total foodie and fresh asparagus is one of the greatest things in the spring, but who eats enough of it to need a special peeler? Who peels asparagus anyway? And who peels enough asparagus to even think about spending $345 on this piece of bench clutter? To me, it looks like the contraption is peeling a cucumber – it’s the thickest piece of asparagus I’ve ever seen.

Aside: Asparagus pee. Discuss. Can you smell it? Apparently everyone’s pee stinks after eating fresh asparagus (tinned doesn’t count) but only 25% of people can smell it.

Good Santa Gift

Or you could buy this: xoxo: Sweet and Sexy Romance edited by Kristina Wright. Short, sweet, romantic and sexy tales from 30 authors including Sommer Marsden, Rachel Kramer Bussel and Saskia Walker. Just perfect for a Christmas stocking, or gift wrapped under the tree. Amazon is shipping NOW (despite what it says on the site) so you’ll receive it in time for Christmas. The Kindle version is available soon.

My story “Perk of the Job” is included in this collection. It’s a story of Mel, a veterinary nurse, Mohinder, her boss, and Ralph, Mel’s Staffy. I have a tradition of using animals I know in real life in my stories, and Ralph the Staffy is alive and well and living (and eating everything in sight, and absconding the second the gate is unguarded) in Queensland.

Here’s an excerpt:

“Is that Ralph in doggie daycare?”

Mohinder, my boss, leaned carelessly against the door of the examination room, his white coat hanging from one finger. I took a minute to compose myself before I answered.

“It’s Ralph.”

“What’s wrong with him this time?” Mohinder ran a hand through his shaggy black hair.

I longed to smooth it for him. Actually, there was a lot I longed to smooth on my boss’ rangy body.

“He’s fine. It’s his monthly check.”

In truth, I knew that Ralph, my rescue puppy, was bounding with health. But Mohinder had suggested monthly checks and I wasn’t going to argue. A perk of the job as a veterinary nurse was free care for our own animals.

“He’ll bankrupt us. How about I double your salary but rescind the free care for Ralph?”

Old joke, but I pretended to consider. “No go. It would break Ralph’s heart if he couldn’t see you.”

Ralph adored Mohinder but he’d survive. Me, on the other hand…

The day passed quickly. I worked with Mohinder, and with the grumpy senior partner. I was equally efficient with both, but I didn’t find the need rest my hand on the senior partner’s forearm to emphasize a point, didn’t flirt with him over the dressings tray. With him I was strictly professional.

It was no hardship to work alongside Mohinder, hoping for the not-so-accidental brush of bodies as we passed between the examination table and the bench. I loved listening to his low voice crooning to a recalcitrant animal, his gentle hands soothing their fur. The thought of those long fingers on my body had given me any number of spiraling flights of fancy.

Staff pets were left until last. It was a long day. Surgery with complications. A feral cat that escaped and ran amok. So when Mohinder called for me to bring Ralph in, everyone else had already left.

Ralph pattered in, grinning as only a Staffy can. Mohinder bent to pat him and Ralph went into ecstasies, rolling over to display his huge stomach to be rubbed. Between us, we hoisted him onto the examination table.

“He’s a credit to you, Mel. This isn’t the same malnourished dog of six months ago.” Mohinder’s voice was warm, and I smiled with delight.

Mohinder was close, only a finger’s breadth away from me. His white coat brushed my bare arm and I fought to suppress the shiver

“I’ll give him a vitamin shot, but I think he’s doing well.”

I turned away to draw up the shot, and when I swung back Mohinder was scratching Ralph behind his ears, crooning to him in low tones. My breath left my body in a shaky exhalation. If only Mohinder would talk to me with the same warmth. If only his hands would soothe my body instead of Ralph’s.

Because every blog should include food and sex, right?

Because every blog should include food and sex, right?

I think I’ve got the sex part nailed, so here’s some food. Specifically, my homemade sourdough bread (with a background of gum trees).  This is our daily bread, because it’s quick, easy, cheap, I know exactly what’s in it, and it tastes delicious.

If you want sex with your food, let me point you to an anthology from a few years back, Sex and Candy: 22 Succulent Stories edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. Ooh look, it’s at a bargain price at the moment too.

There’s 22 stories of sweetness by some of my favorite authors between the covers (don’t miss “Kneading” by Shanna Germain or “Six Layers of Sweetness” by Donna George Storey).

I have a story in this collection too. “Rosehips are Red” is about the pleasures of making rosehip jelly. These days I don’t live where the wild roses grow (thank you, Nick Cave, for the song), so I’ll stick with making sourdough and grapefruit marmalade. In the meantime, here’s an extract from my story:

The next week we walk the fields again, our gumboots caked with mud. We skirt the field the farmer has plowed for winter wheat, duck under the barbed wire, and splash through the stream dividing the wheat from the cow pasture. Sammy, our retriever, crashes through the stream. We hear his bark, and the whir and clatter of a startled pheasant.

The low autumn sun burnishes your hair; the sunlight is weaker than the warmth in your eyes. I can see the rose hedge from a distance. The soft, pink petals are gone, trampled into the grass by the cows, but as we get closer, I can see the ripe, red pendants studding the hedge.

“Rosehips!” I exclaim, and snap one from the briar.

A thorn embeds itself in the fleshy part of my thumb, and there’s a drop of blood as vivid as the fruit. You meet my eyes and lift my hand. Your lips close around my wounded thumb, lapping the blood, soothing the puncture with your warmth. I close my eyes and remember those lips on other parts of my body: on my face, on my skin, on my breasts, between my legs. I remember your tongue and its wet, hot glide.

I cup the gravid fruit in my hands and a finger caresses its rotund shape. “Will you still love me when I look like this?” I ask.

We return the next day to harvest the hips. We bring two plastic ice cream tubs to put them in, but we forget the gloves. The briars catch in my hair, tug on my shirt, embed themselves in my fingers. You roll up your sleeves—it’s your favorite shirt, its moss green matches your eyes—and the tiny thorns scratch a pattern of weals on your forearms. They’re only superficial, they can’t hurt.

Green-eyed people are faery people, changelings left behind when the faeries steal a human child. Green eyes remind me of the ocean: they can be stormy and dangerous, or languid and gentle. Like you.

You bend to pick the rosehips from a low hanging patch of briar, and your shirt comes apart from your jeans, revealing a pale strip of flesh. Fine golden hairs cover your skin. I know how you love me to brush them lightly, with barely-there fingertips. It makes you catch your breath and shiver, as if those faeries that left you behind have danced across your flesh. I move closer, bend forward and let my long hair brush over your skin like their wings.

You’re startled, and jerk upright, and your shoulder connects with my chin. We both reel, rub our bruised parts, and then laugh at our clumsiness. My tub of rosehips falls to the ground unheeded as we drift together, arms finding familiar routes around each other’s waists, our hips aligning subtly, until I feel the fly of your jeans pressing into my belly. I slide my hips to and fro until it’s not only the fly I’m feeling.

I love that pressure as you swell against me. I love the long, hard ridge of your cock, and my answering rush of wetness. You grasp my hips, pull me closer, and kiss me. It’s a deep, drowning kiss, and I melt.

“Let’s go home,” I say. I want to be in our bed, with your hands on my bare skin.

Sweat

Some time ago, I was telling a friend about my latest run. I described how beautiful it was running along the Maroochy River as the sun set, seeing the pelicans glide in like 747s, dodging the walkers and the fishermen, being deafened by the cacophony of the lorikeets in the gum trees. I finished by saying that I’d stepped up the pace for the last kilometre, so hard that at the end I was bent double, head spinning, trying my best not to puke.

“It was the best run in a long time!” I said.

There was a silence. My friend looked askance. “I can’t believe you used “best” and “puke” in the same sentence,” she said. “That is so wrong.”

But it was so right. The joy of movement, of exercising to your limit, whatever that limit may be, is one of the sweet things in life.

And now ”Sweat”  edited by Harper Bliss is here. A collection of sweaty lesbian stories from five sweaty writers of lesbian erotica.

My story “Marathon Woman” kicks off the collection. It’s the tale of Vinnie and Riz, and how running fits into their relationship and what it means to each of them. And “Sweat” goes on from there, with wonderful stories about yoga (Laila Blake), swimming (Lucy Felthouse), tennis (Harper Bliss) and (my favorite) roller derby (Ezrabet Bishop).

Check out “Sweat”  at Ladylit or on  Amazon