Can you forgive me?

Times are tight at the moment, and until my books start to sell in useful numbers (30 per quarter doesn’t provide enough to live on), I have to find income from elsewhere.

Many years ago, I confessed to working in an estate office, but since 2020 hit, part-time hours and four-day (sometimes three-day) weeks have been the norm, meaning my commission and hourly income has suffered. The savings have dried up, but my monthly bills continue, and now the cost of everything has increased.

I’ve had to return to the old days, something I thought I’d left behind.

Nothing for it, I realised. The money has to come from somewhere, and that somewhere happens to be the pockets of those people who DO have money.

Rich guys.

I know, I said I’d moved on, but needs must.

So I broke my dry spell, fell off the wagon, ended the cold turkey, and threw caution to the wind.

Last night, I resumed my role as an escort.

I put myself back on the same website I’d used before, surprised to see my profile was still active, and even more surprised to find messages from as recently as March in my inbox.

Somebody must have read my mind (or been pinged when I logged in), because within an hour, two men had contacted me. The thing I’d dreaded, the whole prospect of offering myself to the world, had suddenly become a hundred times easier.

I replied to both guys, and got a positive answer from one, and an interested reply from the other. It turned out one wasn’t currently available, but wanted to chat. The other man – let’s call him Jake – was eager to meet up that evening. I reminded him I was an escort, and not somebody who offered fifteen minute quickies, and he proposed an evening meal at a Newcastle restaurant.

Game on!

Feeling like one of my cougar characters from the Cindy Wicked series, I showered, spent far too long putting on the war paint, and even longer trying to figure out what to wear. In the end, I went for classy and simple. Can’t go wrong with the little black dress, right? Except it was a clear night, and temperatures were already on the way down. I dug out my shrug from the vacuum bag, and hoped it’d be enough.

By the time I’d taken the bus (no cash for luxuries like a taxi!) to the waterfront, time had marched on, and only fifteen minutes remained until we were supposed to meet.

I faced my reflection in a dark shop window and told myself I could do this. I’d done it fifty or so times before (who’s counting?), so what was once more? I hoped the evening wouldn’t be a bust, because five out of ten guys chicken out before the meeting, and I’d even had one who turned up, but explained he couldn’t go through with it. I got a twenty for my trouble, but that never goes very far.

Fortunately, Jake turned up, meaning I wasn’t about to spend the evening alone. He was a nice-looking guy. Almost six foot, dark haired, and dressed in an expensive suit. He lifted my hand and kissed it, which was a quaint touch, and we went into the restaurant, where he’d managed to reserve a quiet table.

I won’t go into detail about the food, but Jake wasn’t shy about ordering the good stuff, or good quality wine. I told him as much as I dared – that I’d worked in the city for fifteen years, that I was single, and that yes, I’d done this kind of thing before.

He hadn’t, it seemed. I took him at his word, but his nervous glances assured me this experience was new to him, which meant he probably didn’t have any real idea about what to expect.

Once the meal was over, and the glasses were empty, he seemed to be at a loss. Time to put him at ease, I figured.

“This was nice,” I told him, reaching for his hand. “We should do it again sometime.” It’d been two hours since we met.

“Oh.” His face fell. “It’s over now?”

I smiled and squeezed his hand. “Why don’t we go outside? We can talk about it there, where nobody can hear us.”

“Yes, outside.” He beckoned to the waiter, who brought a swipe card machine, and the bill was settled. At least I didn’t have to worry about contributing to the cost. On the way out, I plucked two mints from a jar at the reception, and fed one to Jake, which made him smile.

Once we were out on the street, I slid my arm through his to give any passing strangers the impression that we were a couple, and kissed his cheek. “Now would be a good time to offer me something for my time,” I whispered.

“Oh, right. Of course.” He confirmed my hourly rate, doubled it for the second hour, and then added a twenty, which he generous of him.

“Do you have to leave right away?”

I glanced up and down the street before answering. It usually gave the impression I was thinking about my options.

“I can stay a bit longer, if you’d like that.”

“I would. I have . . . ah . . . a room. At the Xxxxx hotel. It’s not far away.”

“I know the place.” I’d met fifteen or sixteen men in that place over the years (yes, I know how that sounds). It was a three star place, and very clean.

“They have coffee in the rooms. And little kettles.”

“Can we get a drink at their bar?” Coffee would be a bad idea if I wanted any sleep after our time together.

“Of course. I’ll ask.” He led me away from the restaurant, our arms still linked. The night wasn’t as cool as I’d feared, so I let the shrug slip, exposing my shoulders.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said in a strained voice. “I imagine a lot of guys – “

I stopped and spun to face him. “Don’t worry about them. Tonight, it’s just you and me. Which reminds me, how long would you like me to stay?” All night would be ideal, but this wasn’t Pretty Woman, and he wasn’t a billionaire who built great big ships.

“I . . . uh . . . don’t know. Can we take the night as it comes?”

“Well, if we say one hour for now, and see – “

“Why don’t we say two hours, and see?”

I kissed his cheek. “Two hours is great. Come on, let’s see this room of yours.”

When we resumed walking, his pace was more eager. I had to slow him or risk twisting an ankle. When we reached the reception, I had to slow him further, because he seemed desperate to get into the lift and away from the gaze of the receptionists.

Once the lift doors had closed, I turned and kissed Jake on the mouth, hoping he’d relax a little. His hands slid around my waist, and his kiss warmed a little and became less tense.

“Nobody’s watching us,” I told him. “It’s just you and me now.”

“I know. Sorry, I’ve never done this before.”

I laid a hand on his chest and reassured him he had nothing to worry about. I was going to take good care of him and make him happy. I slid one hand down and found his erection easily.

“Looks like you’re happy already.”

“I have a canoe in my pocket,” he replied, and then chewed his lower lip. “Sorry, that sounded like a boast. I’m not huge down there.”

I continued to stroke him, guessing he had six inches minimum. Maybe it’d get bigger once it was less restricted, and out in the open.

We didn’t meet anybody else on the way to Jake’s room, but I pulled him to a stop outside a door where a couple were thoroughly enjoying each other. Her cries of ecstasy could be heard at both ends of the corridor. He seemed shocked that I was being so indiscreet, but when I smiled and winked, he relaxed.

“This is getting me wet,” I whispered to Jake.

His eyes widened. “It’s . . . really? You’re getting turned on?”

“Aren’t you?” I deliberately glanced at his crotch.

“Okay, maybe a bit. But we shouldn’t – “

“Relax. If anyone comes along, I’ll pretend I’ve dropped my key card.”

“This key card?” He waved the plastic card.

“Yeah, that one.” I leaned closer to the door, where regular grunts, and breathless whimpering emerged.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I told you, it’s making me wet.”

“Can I feel?” His boldness surprised me.

“Out here?” I checked both ways before sliding the dress a bit higher, and he used a finger to confirm I hadn’t exaggerated.

“Bet you can’t wait to taste me,” I whispered.

“Out here?” he side-smiled as he echoed my words.

I pulled the dress back down. “Definitely not here.” Part of my mind urged me to do it anyway, to be daring and let him kiss my other lips right there, outside the other couple’s door, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t brave enough. The consequences of getting caught were too awful. Instead, we listened until the guy climaxed with a loud yell, and she moaned and groaned until her voice fell into loving murmurs.

“That was so hot,” he whispered as we crept away.

“I’ve only done that once before,” I confessed. “And a floorboard creaked. They stopped and he came to the door to see who was out there.”

“Did he catch you?”

I shook my head. “I walked away as casually as I could. He didn’t say a word. Maybe he was turned on by a woman listening in.”

“This is my room.” Jake fumbled the key card so badly, I had to take it from him and swipe it. He was full of apologies as we moved inside. The moment the door closed, I turned and kissed him on the mouth, hoping to calm his nerves.

“Let’s get . . . away from the door,” he said between kisses.

“Frightened somebody might hear us?” I walked my fingers up his chest.

“Something like that.” He shuffled into the suite, where a round table, a sofa, and a couple of comfortable chairs awaited us. “Oh, we didn’t go to the bar!”

“It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I wasn’t thirsty.”

“You just didn’t want coffee?”

I glanced at the selection of dried sachets. “Not that stuff, no.”

He nodded, and glanced around the room, looking at everything except me. The nerves were back.

“You could kiss me again,” I suggested.

He blinked rapidly and nodded, then moved in. Our arms went around each other and we kissed for several minutes, during which time he grew harder against my hip.

“Time to see what you’ve got down there.” I fumbled for his zip, but he stopped me.

“I’d like to watch you undress first.”

“Would you mind paying me for the hour first?”

He pulled out a fat wallet and handed me several notes, and then added some more. “Two hours, just in case. If I make a mess too quickly, maybe you can refund me?”

We both laughed as I tucked the money into a pocket inside my purse, and then I backed away so I could slip out of the dress. His eyes were hungry for every inch of skin, and when I stepped out of the black puddle of material at my feet, his mouth hung open.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“My mother’s beautiful, so it’s her fault.”

“She’s Indian?”

I nodded. “And my father’s Moroccan.” I dropped a hip and swept both hands down my body. “Explains the tan.”

“I want to eat you up.”

“You’ll get indigestion. Maybe have a taste of everything to see what you like best.”

“I’ll get rid of these first.” He stood on the heel of each shoe and pulled them off, then lifted each leg so he could peel off his dark socks.

“Let me help you with these.” I reached for his belt, and he watched silently as I unbuckled it and then opened his trousers. They slid down to his ankles easily, and he stepped out of them, revealing tight trunks, distorted by a hard bulge at the front.

“Somebody’s pleased to see me.” I slid my hand along the length, and he inhaled sharply.

“Be careful. I’m so hard, it won’t take much to make me come.”

I smiled and kissed his mouth. “Why don’t we fix that right now?”

“What are – ” was as far as he got. I’d already sunk onto my knees, pulling down the waistband of his trunks to free his erection. Two seconds later, I was stroking the smooth head with the flat of my tongue, spreading the dew drop of precum around.

“I’m so close,” he warned.

“Mm-hm?” I took the head into my mouth, sliding my lips across the tight skin.

“If you keep doing that . . .”


“I’m going to . . . uhh . . . uhh . . . too late!” His entire body shuddered; a muffled squeak, followed by a series of broken groans filled my ears. What filled my mouth was much more fun. His cum was thick, and warm, and heavy on my tongue.

“Mmm . . .” I sealed my lips around the shaft as best I could, but some still escaped onto my chin.

“Uhh . . . uhf . . . uck . . .” His hands slid through my hair and gentle pressure made sure I didn’t pull back. I swallowed some, but not all of the thick cum, using one finger to wipe the errant drop from my chin.

“Oh my god . . .” His voice was tight and high, and his shaft twitched and bucked against my upper lip. I used my thumb to squeeze out one final drop from the head, and then licked him clean. When he trembled, and the pressure eased from the back of my head, I guessed he’d gone super-sensitive.

I pulled back, smiling up at him. “Want to kiff?” I asked from one side of my mouth. I’d kept some of his fluid under my tongue.

“Kiss?” His eyebrows rose. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but . . .”

I swallowed quickly. “Don’t worry. Not for everyone.” Except the guy who’d begged me to kiss him after he’d come in my mouth.

“Sorry. It just seems . . . wrong.”

I rose to my feet. “Don’t panic. I’ll go and wash my mouth out in the bathroom.”

His eyes stared directly into mine. “No, it’s okay. As long as you’ve swallowed, or you’re going to spit it out.”

“Too late for that.” I showed him my empty mouth. “Now, where were we?”

“You were going to be careful not to make me come.”

“Oops. I hope you’re still horny.” I grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a long and lingering kiss. My hands explored his swollen but no longer erect shaft, which was both sticky and slippery.

“That was a very bad thing you did.”

“You’d better spank me.”

He frowned. “Not really into the punishment thing.”

“You’d better eat me alive, then.” I put both hands on his shoulders, persuading him onto his knees, and then pulled him against my panties. He pulled the gusset aside and dived right in, stroking me with long sweeps of his tongue. I took hold of his short hair and guided his rhythm, loving the way he slipped the tip of his tongue inside me each time.

“You know how to please a girl.” I smiled, wondering how I’d ended up becoming his mistress.


“Nice and slow, keep your tongue wide and flat. Mm . . . exactly like that.”

“Uh-huh . . .”

His technique was exquisite, if a bit hurried, but my grip on his hair was enough to encourage perfection. My clit loved the attention, and before long, I was whimpering and trembling, pulling so hard against me, he pushed against my thighs so he could breathe.

“Sorry, sorry.” The climax passed, and I staggered back, but he wasn’t finished yet. He grabbed my butt and pulled me forward, and slid two fingers from his free hand into me. As with his cunnilingus, his fingering technique was near-perfect, and within two minutes, I was squeaking and moaning. When the climax hit me, my knees turned to water, and I almost fell over him and onto the bed.

Jake held me upright with both hands against my hips, and I managed to regain my balance. I pushed up my hair and blew air across my face, because the room had become uncomfortably hot.

“You’re . . . very good . . . at that.”

“Because you’re so sexy.” He rose to his feet. “Lie down on the bed. I want to explore every part of your body.”

“Not every part.”

“Why not?”

“Some parts are off limits.”

“Interesting.” He watched as I sat on the bed. “Unhook your bra.”

“You want to see these?” I smiled as my breasts were freed.

“They’re beautiful.”

“I showed you mine. Show me yours.” I indicated his fastened shirt.

“They’re not as nice as yours.”

“Ever had your nipples played with?”

He frowned. “Not really.”

“You’re in for a treat.” I reached for his chest, but he was still too far way. When I beckoned to him, he knelt on the edge of the bed, and I took hold of both nipples and pulled him forward.

“Hey, ow!” He tried to push my hands down, but I tightened my grip on his hard nipples and urged him closer until his semi-erection was level with my face. When I rolled and pinched, he whimpered.

“How does THAT feel?”

“It’s . . . uhh . . . it’s . . . wow.”

“You like it, right?”

“I think so. It’s so intense!” As he complained, I turned my head and got the swollen head back into my mouth. I bobbed my head, stroking him with my lips.

“Ow, wow. That’s so nice.”


“Yes, uhh . . . love it.”

“Sucking you makes me wet.”

“Stand up, I want to touch you again.”

I stood up, took hold of one of his hands and guided it between my legs. I wanted more of what he’d given me earlier. He didn’t need much persuasion. Within seconds, he was stroking me from clit to slippery opening, making me moan with happiness.

“You’re even wetter now.”

“Mm-hm?” I slid one hand down his chest, across his stomach and used it to cup his tight balls, which earned me a groan of appreciation. He rewarded me by slipping two fingers into my tight hole, and filled me all the way to his knuckles. I writhed and squirmed as he slid them in and out, and only his hungry kisses stopped me from crying out.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. Both of his hands found my bare breasts, and he massaged them eagerly, making sure his palms rubbed across my nipples over and over.

“Mm . . .”

“I want to eat you out again.”

“Sixty-nine,” I suggested.

“Good thinking.” A few seconds later, I was underneath him, and his tongue went back to work, driving me crazy, and getting me even wetter. But his fingers strayed, and as his big hands eased my legs further apart, a single finger slid between my cheeks, heading for forbidden territory.

“Mm-mm!” I tried to stop him, but his body blocked my hand. When I tried to close my legs, his elbows got in my way. “Hey!” I pushed his shaft from my mouth and protested.

“Never had your bottom pleasured?” he asked. His fingertip was already stroking the sensitive opening, sending peculiar tingles through my pelvis.

“No anal!” I ordered.

“This isn’t anal.” He stroked my little hole gently. “This is pleasuring. It’s only anal if I go inside.”

“It’s anal if you touch me there.”

“Only if it goes inside,” he insisted. Something warm trickled between my cheeks, and the stroking became smoother. I couldn’t deny the sensation was exquisite. I’d only been touched there once before, and none too gently. Having this man stroke me made me wonder if I’d missed out on something wonderful.

“Okay, but only on the outside.” I groaned as he stroked me again, and at the same time, slid two fingers into my other hole, pushing deep until I writhed. Of all the men who’d hired me over the years, Jake was treating me the best – by a long way.

But my body could only stand so much, and I had to stop him because his touch was driving me crazy.

“No more, no more,” I begged. “Please. I need a break.”

“A break?” He climbed off me carefully, lifting his knee clear of my head. “You get me all hard, and you want a break?”

“Jake, I . . .” I swallowed hard and shook my head.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m teasing you. Can I get you some water?”

“Mm-hm. Cold water.” My mouth had turned dry. Jake crossed over to a counter top and leaned over. When he straightened up, he held two bottles of water.

“Courtesy of the mini-bar.”

“Gimme.” I reached for a bottle, cracked the cap and drank deeply.

“Sorry if I pushed you too hard.”

I laughed. “Oh, I’ve been pushed harder than that.”

“When you made me come earlier . . .” He hesitated.

“Go on.”

“Was it because you hoped I’d go cold, and wouldn’t want to . . .” He swallowed. “have sex with you?”

I gave him my sincerest smile. “No, sweetheart. I did it so you could relax and enjoy yourself.” Yes, I lied. Sometimes guys would go off the boil immediately after their orgasm. But not always.

“So you still want to . . .”

“Have sex with you?” I moved my knees further apart. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

That did the trick. He lifted the bottle from my hand, reached down so he could pull off my panties, and then he persuaded me onto my back.

I raised an eyebrow and nodded toward his growing erection. “Aren’t we forgetting something? The little rubber suit?”

“I hadn’t forgotten,” he insisted. His eyes shifted in panic.

“Relax. Pass me my purse.” I held out my hand, and he dropped the purse into it. A few seconds later, I’d retrieved a condom from an inner pocket, and dropped the purse down beside the bed. He seemed surprised when I tore the packet open and retreived the slippery contents.

“Come closer, please.” I placed the condom on the swollen head like a little hat, bent forward, and used my lips to unroll it along his stiffening shaft, using my fingers at the last second to stretch out any wrinkles. I made sure the rubber was liberally coated with saliva before withdrawing, and then I relaxed back onto the bed.

He stared down at his protected shaft. “I’ve never had that done to me before.”

“Now you have.” I shuffled my legs further apart. “Come and get me.”

He knelt on the edge of the bed and shuffled closer, but instead of moving into position between my legs, he leaned over and started kissing my body, starting with my shoulders, and my neck, and moved gradually onto my breasts, where he spent a lot of time making sure my nipples were fully aroused. I was surprised he hadn’t gone straight in for the main event, but it was nice to lie back and be pleasured. Maybe he wasn’t so eager to slide into me because I’d made him come in my mouth earlier. It didn’t matter much, because he’d paid me for two hours, and he was entitled to enjoy me for as long as he wanted to. He was treating me respectfully, not to mention gently, so I wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

And when he lingered between my legs, I sighed happily and stroked his scalp, enjoying his undivided attention.

“I can’t get enough of this,” he murmured. His smiling face bobbed up for a moment. His mouth shone with my juices. I’d never seen a guy looking happier. “You taste amazing.”

I beckoned him up to my face. “Want to share some of that with me?”

“One last lick.” He bobbed down and used the flat of his tongue to stroke me from opening to clit, and then he crawled up, dabbing kisses onto random areas of skin – including my nipples, of course – until his face was level with mine. I pressed my fingertips to his cheeks and guided him down so we could kiss.

His erection nudged one thigh, and then the other, and I reached down to guide him into place. My saliva was mostly gone, so I collected some moisture from my lips and rubbed it around the head before urging him against my opening.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” he murmured.

“What? A sexy guy like you should be fighting the girls off.”

“Me? No, I . . . I never know what to say.”

“Aw, you’re shy? That’s sweet.” I lifted my feet and pressed my heels into his bottom, urging him into me.

“You’re making me feel so relaxed.”

“Not too relaxed. I want you nice and hard and deep inside me.”

He shook his head. “I meant relaxed as in comfortable. At ease.”

“Because you’re enjoying yourself.” I pulled him down for a kiss, and he slid all the way into me. My long groan must have encouraged him, because he started thrusting gently, and we groaned together, still locked in our kiss.

Jake lasted almost ten minutes, during which time he turned me over and took me from behind, asked me to ride him cowgirl style while his hands explored my body, and for his finale, we ended up back in the missionary position, where he came without a lot of drama. A quickening in his rhythm, some fast breathing, a quiet groan, and then he buried his head in the covers beside my ear, murmuring inarticulate nothings.

It was nice to lie back and share his afterglow while he shrank inside me. I hadn’t climaxed while he’d been using my body, but I’d come plenty of times when he’d explored me with his tongue, so I’d had some fun. Anyway, Jake’s pleasure was the goal for the evening, and judging by his happy murmuring, it was mission accomplished.

Finally, he slipped out of me, although the tip of the condom didn’t follow. I had to drop a hint that I needed to move before he eased himself off me, carefully unsticking his skin from mine. I lifted my head in time to see him pulling off the condom, which bore plenty of evidence of his climax.

“Okay?” I asked him. He nodded wordlessly and shuffled off to the en-suite, where he attended to his needs before returning. His eyes roamed over my bare body, and I rolled my hips at him.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said.

“Cover your eyes,” I told him, and when he did, I told him to take his hands away. “There. Now you’re seen me again.”

He laughed at my silly joke, and then decided it was safe to kiss me. I responded, and we enjoyed a final minute of pleasure before I broke the kiss.

“I’ve enjoyed this,” I told him, forcing my legs to move. They carried me reluctantly to the en-suite, where I peed, and washed my hands and face.

“I’ll be back here in about four weeks,” he said as he watched me dressing. He seemed fascinated by the way I pulled my clothes into place.

“Keep my number handy.”

“I can only contact you through the escort site,” he reminded me.

“Okay, here’s my mobile number.” I scribbled down the number for a phone I’d kept after I upgraded. Maybe it was time for it to become my ‘work’ phone.

We kissed at the door before I let myself out, and I walked to the lift with a smile on my face. If every encounter was as satisfying as the one with Jake, I’d have every reason to resume my career as an escort indefinitely.

Of course, not all of them could be that good.


What’s love got to do with it?

Okay, I probably read more into my weekend date than I should have, but what’s a broken-hearted girl to do?

The evening went well, we had some fun, laughed a lot, compared notes on the types of stories we liked, and what was wrong with the ones we didn’t, and we ended the evening with a quick kiss and the promise of a new friend and beta reader.

At least I got out of the house for something other than the weekly supermarket shop.

I also came home with several new ideas for erotic stories.

Not trusting my brain one little bit, I typed out some notes on each of the potential stories, and filed them under ‘future projects.’

After that, the only thing I could do was shower alone, and then retire to bed with my favorite latex toy and pretend somebody real was making me happy.

Should I give up on trying to find myself a soul mate?

Fantasising about sexual partners seems to be a more realistic option . . . for now.

In other news, I’m currently half-way through the first story of the new shifter series, which I’ve provisionally called ‘Shifter’s Legacy.’ It’s crammed full of hot sex (too much sex, maybe? Is there such a thing as too much sex?) between main character Nadia and her boyfriend (father to her first-born child), her best friend Laura (although Nadia’s doing her best to resist any girl-girl action), and three shifter champions who earned the right to bed Nadia once a year.

This doesn’t all happen in the same chapter, you understand. That would be too much (see musing notes in the previous paragraph). No, I’ve spread all that sex across four whole chapters, giving the poor reader a moment to catch their breath.

While all this is going on, the fourth book in the new Half-Breed (sci-fi) series is progressing nicely. Aurora has gone all Sarah Connor and is determined to take the fight back to the bad guys, in between seducing random strangers and absorbing their DNA using sex. If you’ve forgotten, Aurora can only suppress her alien physiology and remain (mostly) human by allowing different men to ‘breed’ her on a regular basis.

Oh, and she’s also sleeping with her fiancee’s identical twin.

When Aurora rides, she really rides (wink)!

The gay sideline of my shifter series hasn’t moved along much. I’m still treading carefully through the issue of avoiding any implication of under-age sex. Different parts of the world have very different ideas about what’s legal and what isn’t. Young guys’ urges tend to awaken long before it’s legal to act upon them, and my free-roaming shifters are no exception. But if I made them all over 21 before they saw any action, they’d be too old for an awakening story.

You see my problem . . .

Anyone who has any advice on this issue (apart from ‘drop the whole thing,’ please . . .) leave a comment below and help a struggling writer to figure this out.

Thank you in advance.

Wish me luck

Sometime life hits you hard, and a person can imagine that they’ll never be hapy again, that they might never love again.

And yet, fate sometimes throws us a lifeline in the most unexpected way.

Today, I was delivering some paperwork, and I started chatting to a friendly twenty-something woman of Indian descent.

(Not her, but enough like her)

It turned out we have a lot in common, from our families’ origins, to our adherence to (and discarding of) traditional culture. We both suffered a crushing heartbreak, and neither of us is really looking for anybody, but for the first time in a long time, I was able to open up to somebody.

Turns out, she’s also dabbled in writing, although she prefers to read adult stories, whereas I prefer to write them.

Long story short, I offered to send her some of my books. She said no, why I don’t I deliver them on Saturday night.

To her house!

And she’s cooking for me!

I offered to bring dessert, and she accepted.

If nothing else, I think I might have found a kindred spirit. If she turns out to be a soulmate, that’s be amazing.

But a friend would be enough for now.

In other news, My new Wolves of New Hampshire story is progressing well. Provisionally called Shifter’s Legacy, Nadia’s adventures post-Sammenføjning are revealing themselves to me, and the excitement of discovery is growing.

In case you didn’t already know, I’m a confirmed pantser (I only plot the most basic elements of a story), which makes writing extra special for me. The story emerges line by line, which is always an adventure.

The downside of this process is, predictably, I have no real idea how the story will progress.

But that’s the exciting part!


Wish me luck.

Chasing my Mojo

A few days ago, I vowed to plunge back into my writing, in order to purge the pain from my heart.

It kinda worked.

I still cry myself to sleep most nights, and struggle to watch anything even remotely sentimental on TV, but my Muse has drifted back into my life, one hand on my shoulder as I thrash out ideas on the computer. Okay, there isn’t much thrashing going on. It’s more of a quiet mulling, but dramatic licence exists for a reason, right?

Anyway, I started two new stories this weekend, both of them set in the shifter forests of New Hampshire. If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you’ll quickly spot The Wolves of New Hampshire series, a story where an ordinary city girl called Nadia is abruptly plunged into the intense competititive world of male shifters who have little to no contact with the outside world.

The Progenitors

Naturally, the men are naked (forest rules apply. This ain’t Twilight), and Nadia finds herself drawn into a forbidden relationship with a young shifter, as well being pulled into an intense girl-girl romance.

What? None of my stories are 100% straight. They all blur the boundaries to some degree. Gay men experiment with women (usually unsuccessfully), straight women sleep with other women, and all my transgender characters have fluid relationships.

Back to the shifter story.

With six stories already written, and the Happy Ever After in place, I was suddenly inspired to write the next part of Nadia’s adventure, which opens with a three-guy gang bang and her cuckolded lover. Nothing like plunging straight in, right. A good policy for a sexy story, not so much fun in real life, right girls? I always prefer foreplay or plenty of lube for an abrupt plunge.

(That goes for guy-guy action too, by the way).

Anyway, there’s already plenty of sex, a theme which should continue throughout the new series, however many books it turns into (probably four, but we’ll see).

In addition to the above shenanigans, I was also inspired to write a parallel story, which is a gay adventure romance, and takes place alongside the original Wolves of New Hampshire stories.

With so many guys in the forest, and so few women, a young man has to find love somewhere, right? So two of them, with occasional input from their pack-mates, will enjoy secretive (at first) gay sex and love in the forest while the events of Nadia’s story play out in the background.

Something for everyone, and a chance to expand my shifter universe along two different threads.

Watch this space for updates.


Writing has become my solace, offering a quanta of comfort, and a whole heap of distraction from my . . . from . . .

No. I’m not even going to think about that which ails me.

I put all that behind me in my previous post, and that’s where I want it to stay – in the past.

So, it’s head down and write, write, and write.

New story ideas and old projects I’d promised to revisit are my new love.

Yes, our relationship won’t be perfect. There’s likely to be tears and disappointment, but there’s also going to satisfaction, and maybe some joy along the way.

This girl is on fire.

Thirty-five and now I’m hurting

Ten years ago, I posted ‘Twenty-five today, and it doesn’t hurt,‘ not realising what lay ahead.

Hurt comes in many forms.

Physical pain is probably the one most people think of first, and we’ve all suffered from that in varying degrees, from life-changers to silly mishaps.

For me, it’s an ache of a different sort.

Back in 2014, I fell for a girl, somebody who was funny, three inches shorter than me, yet larger than life, and utterly adorable.

I couldn’t get enough of her quirkiness. The way she looked at life was a mix of unfettered optimism and childish delight, and she helped me to see the fun side of the world, whereas before, the hard knocks had caused me to put my vulnerabilities into a safety deposit box.

Fast forward two years to 2016 and I was living and loving again, enjoying life and finding new purpose in everything. We’d even made plans to set up home together, somewhere far from our current location where we could make a fresh start, buy a parcel of land (a mini-farm of sorts) and adopt a random set of animals.

And then she was gone.

One tragic weekend, she hit rock bottom after almost losing a family member, she pulled down the metaphorical shutters and closed the shop. The phone calls and texts stopped, the door was never answered, and brief sightings became an urgent need for her to hide. Eighteen months of offering help, of giving her the space she obviously needed, of being as available as possible came to naught.

As of this week, I’ve seen her three times in two years, and always in company where our shattered life together couldn’t never be discussed.

And it’s left me broken.

The world is grey instead of gay. All the colour has gone from my rainbow of happiness.

I harboured a faint hope that we might recover from this, but time has proved me to be a naive dreamer.

Somehow, I must move on from this.

But I don’t know how to.

Free to read! The Wolves of New Hampshire.

The first book of the Wolves of New Hampshire is free to read.

Book 1 (The Progenitors):

“When Nadia St. John applies for the position of secretary at an outdoor adventure center in New Hampshire, she has little idea of the activities that take place at the isolated lodge, or of its convoluted and bloody history.

A mysterious package, delivered on a stormy night by a half-dressed boy, tantalizes her with clues about her past, and her family’s disappearance fifteen years ago. Will the self-styled Sean Ireland, center manager, protect her from her past, or force her to confront it?”

Get it HERE, folks!

Or if you’re already a fan, grab the box set of six books for a big saving.

Released today: Broken Promise

Needs must as the devil drives.

(Book #5 in the Memoirs of a Male Succubus series, a 26,000 word paranormal gay romance)

Samuel Driver was a thug, a thief, and a career criminal—until the moment he got himself killed. His violent escapades guaranteed him a place in Hell, but his fighting spirit earned him a reprieve, and a chance to walk the Earth once again.

Contracted to become a male Succubus—a reaper of human life forces—Sam discovers a hidden talent for seducing men. He becomes so proficient, his demonic caseworker singles him out for a series of special tasks, which promise to improve the conditions of Sam’s demonic contract.

But when Sam’s shapeshifting abilities are compromised, he faces difficult choices in his career as a Succubus, and in his love life. Trapped in a single form, how can he continue his stealthy pursuit of human life force, and how can he hold onto the man he loves when his face has become that of a stranger’s?

Reader Beware: This story will plunge you into the world of gay orgies as orchestrated by those who would profit from the pleasure of others. Could be fun.

Luminosity Publishing

Come too late? Get book #1 here: (Luminosity) (Amazon)

New Release – Alien Encounter

This is the first story in the Shifting Moons series, a near-future erotica novella centring around humanity’s third mission to Mars.

Mankind’s fascination with Mars is about to take on a brand-new twist.

Three months after all contact is lost with a previous mission, NASA scrambles together a brand-new crew and launch their proposed relief mission sixteen months early in an attempt to solve the mystery.

But the peculiar crew dynamic quickly leads to a constantly-changing set of relationships, where sharing becomes normal, as does group and bisexual activity.

Flight Engineer Will Carmichael suspects the crew’s mixture of tastes, as well as the inclusion of NASA’s first transgender astronaut, has been deliberately orchestrated.

But what could possibly be gained from such a diverse spectrum of preferences?

READER ADVISORY: If you are offended by the idea of six astronauts having frequent and messy sex with men, women, and transgenders . . . at least tell your friends. They might love it!

Available now from:



New release -Chance of a Lifetime

I’m proud to announce the release of a new story, Chance of a Lifetime, my first billionaire story-and the beginning of a series.


It’s a rags-meets-riches tale that starts in Indonesia, but moves from country to country as the series progresses.

When you accidentally run into the chance of a lifetime, do you embrace it, no matter what the conditions?

Eighteen-year-old native girl Dian Cinta has aspirations to save enough money for a college course—a tall order for someone who works at a coffee stand. But when she collides with billionaire Joseph van der Waals at Jakarta airport, he offers to upgrade her to a Master’s degree instead, on condition that she spends a year working with him as he travels the world in his private jet. It seems like the chance of a lifetime to impoverished Dian—until she learns that Joseph prefers his employees to share his appetite for sexual experimentation.

She has only moments to choose her future before he flies from her life forever.

Reader Advisory: The mile-high club has never been this crowded before. Five men and women promised body and soul to a billionaire. It could get messy.

Chance of a Lifetime is now available from Luminosity publishing.