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.

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.

New release! My male Succubus has arrived.

You’re probably wondering about the headline already. For those of you who aren’t sure, a female soul collector is a Succubus, whilst a male collector is normally an Incubus.

Oops, I was naughty, and mixed things up a bit. I used a tiny bit of artistic licence, because while Sam Driver has been sent back from Hell as an Incubus to collect womens souls during the process of seduction, his intitial attempts fell short of his Demon-master’s standards.

However, he proved fairly successful at collecting male life-energy, discovering his talent during a wild threesome. His Demon offered him a chance to prove his worth and Sam, being an open minded sort, decided ‘why not?’ So he was reclassified as a male Succubus.

‘Soul Collector‘ is a paranormal fantasy, largely M/M, but with a bisexual touch.

Samuel Driver died in 1973, a fairly successful career criminal and modest bad guy. He quickly landed in Hell, but his refusal to accept an eternity of suffering brings him to the attention of Asmodeus, a three-headed demon, who recognises Sam’s potential and proposes a deal. Asmodeus offers Sam special shape-shifting powers, to be used in the seduction of women on Earth. Sam must bring them sexual pleasure and Asmodeus will watch closely, ready to suck away part of the women’s life energy during the throes of passion.

Sam accepts the proposal, but finds the task more difficult than anticipated, failing to acquire any energy at all during his first week on Earth. Asmodeus is less than impressed and threatens to return Sam to Hell if he fails again. But before he sends Sam away, he concedes that Sam would have had some success at seducing men, if only he hadn’t sabotaged his own efforts. Men, it seems, release double the sexual energy of women.

Armed with this knowledge, Sam changes tack and successfully beds and seduces two men in the same afternoon, draining them both and earning himself the unique title of Male Succubus, seducer of men.  

‘Soul Collector‘ is the third of my new stories and part one of the ‘Memoirs’ series. Watch this space for more of Sam Driver’s adventures!

Oh, and you may want to peek at my other stories, ‘The Progenitors‘ and ‘Half-Breed,’ both part ones. ❤

Here at long last (with a touch of controversy)!!!

After a tantalisingly long wait, the second Action Station novel is now available to read!

Although I thoroughly enjoyed writing this second story about the sexual awakening of young firefighter Jensen Brother, it’s already ruffled a few feathers in the M/M genre, because the story also features…wait for it…a woman!

Wait, you cry. How can a hot M/M romance have a woman in it?

Well, it’s partly the fault of my libido and partly a vehicle to highlight young Jensen’s sexual awakening. As with the first Action Station novella (A Risk of Showers), Jensen gets it on with a couple of the other guys at Rutherford Fire Station and some hot guy-on-guy action follows.

One of them, Craig, is bisexual rather than gay, so when a grateful fire victim, Monique, makes him an offer he can’t refuse, he persuades Jensen along. Both Jesen and Craig were both instumental in saving the woman’s from her burning apartment. Monique’s intent is to reward the guys with sex, but whilst bisexual Craig is eager to accept, Jensen finds  himself left on the sidelines, unable to muster any interest in the woman’s body. He only has eyes for Craig’s muscles and his aroused tackle.

And so, young Jensen realises he is fully gay and is able to put aside any remaining doubts. He is persuaded to join in the threesome, but the woman accepts the lad isn’t interested in her, and watches with some excitement as the two hunky firefighters pleasure each other.

I must admit that my own fantasises crept into play as I wrote this story. The idea of being in bed with two guys whilst they were playing with each other brought me a little thrill…one that mecassitated me scurrying away from the keyboard a couple of times to ‘sort myself out.’

What? You don’t think writers get turned on by their own stories? 😉

Anyway, the result has already caused some arguments about whether Monique ought to be in the story at all.  The best I can suggest is for you to read it and make up your own mind whether this is a female fantasy story, or an awkward genre-stretcher.

In the meantime, be nice to yourself.

Annie

X

Caution: Work, Rest and Play will definitely contain nudity.

 

My first M/M novella is complete!

I know I told you that I completed my first ever M/M short story a few months back, but I have now broken my duck in regards to M/M novellas! My first 15k M/M romance / erotic novella in now finished and ready to send off.

What a journey that was! If you were to ask me if I found this to be outside my comfort zone, I would answer yes. If you were to ask me if this was outside my own experiences, I would answer yes.

I’ve sent a copy off to my friendly gay readers, guys who have guided me in the past with other work and I hope to hear back from them soon.  Hopefully I will have described all the anatomical details correctly.  They did correct me on a couple of details last time, things I couldn’t possibly have known (but that’s one of the hazards of this type of project, isn’t it?), but these pointers have served me well this time around.

For  anyone who’s interested, I will reveal more when the completed story is resting on a desktop at SteameReads, but for now, I am going to celebrate with a hot bath, a small glass of red and perhaps give myself a ‘little reward’ for having finished…

What IS IT with sex?

Exhausted

I don’t know if it’s just me, or if anyone else can relate to the unfairness of sex. I spent last night in the pleasant company of two bisexual guys and we all had a great deal of fun – three ways.

This experience was partly research for a new short story idea, and partly to ease an ache to be filled (you know what I mean, right ladies?). No-one can say that I’m not committed to my art. 😀

I wanted to get the low-down on how guys fuck (each other) and I was surprised by a couple of things that I thought I knew – but clearly didn’t!

At some point during their demonstration I found that I was so turned on by their fucking that I couldn’t help but gravitate towards the bed – and found myself getting fully involved with both of them.

Anyway, to get to the point, I was appalled to find that an hour or after having had a thoroughly pleasant time with these guys (and reaching the point where I had to wheeze ‘stop – please!’) that I retained no sensation of the evening’s activities at all.

Nothing. Even the warm glow in my tummy had faded.

Sure, this morning my thighs and my butt cheeks ached (I was trying to be uncharacteristically flexible in order to try out ALL the positions), but if last night had been a drunken haze, then this morning I could NOT have been certain that anything other than some light gymnastics or some over-enthusiastic dancing had taken place.

What the hell?  Where’s the lasting afterglow?  Where’s the week-long ‘ahhhh’ that should follow sex? It’s as if my body has just shrugged and said ‘right, now let’s get on with the day.’

What am I doing wrong?  Am I being too vanilla  (Hello…threesome?  Bi-guys in all three…ahem…too much info)?

No, I’m sorry, it’s just not good enough.  Mother Nature, I want a word with you! I want a memento of last night’s undignified hammering where I got nailed…um…damn it, I can’t even remember how many times!

*sigh*

STOP PRESS; I was showering a couple of hours later and realised that my nipples were unusually tender from the rough treatment they’d received.

BIG DEAL! I could’ve gotten the same sensation from jogging round the park in a cheap bra…

My first M/M short story is completed!

A few weeks ago I told you that I’d put my foot in it by erroneously assuming that the ‘gay’ requirement for a short story contract meant ‘lesbian.’

My bad.

I didn’t check my facts and ended up being contracted to write a 5,000 word piece on gay (guy) lovers.

Well, I decided to dive right in and emerged rather breathlessly at the other end having completed a nice little piece about the blossoming romance and subsequent bedding between two workers on a building site.

My gay (male) friend agreed to read it through for me. I spent a nervous evening, wondering if I’d just spouted inaccurate drivel like I used to do in my early puberty. In those days, my knowledge of male anatomy was rather sketchy and what little I did know was second- or third-hand from embarrassed girl friends who had brothers or who had spied on their older sisters’ boyfriends.

When I saw my friend the next day, he told me that not only had I managed to capture the feeling of love between the two guys (one ten years younger than the other), but he’d become seriously aroused and even ‘lubricated’ by the time he’d finished the story.  He actually asked if I’d ever witnessed two guys together, to which I said no, but his question assured me that I’d managed to get the anatomical details and sensations right.

After he left, my mind wandered a little (it’s dangerous when it does that) and pondered that if he’d offered to let me watch him in action, I might have said yes.

Just for research purposes, you understand. 😀

Writing outside my comfort zone

So, I blogged last week about really putting my foot in it.  Well, I’ve decided to go ahead and write the Gay (M/M) story that I’d been contracted to complete rather than back out of it.

And why not?  The writing experience will be good for me and I might, just might, actually produce something worthwhile.

My (confirmed) gay friend has been very encouraging and has even agreed to beta-read it for me once it’s complete.  Ideally, I’d like to be there when he reads it, but I’m not sure I’d comfortable sitting in the same room as he (if I’ve done a good job) gets aroused by what he reads.  He’s a friend, not a lover.

Not to mention the fact that he’s completely unavailable to me anyway. 😀

Ironic, isn’t it, that my story might get him hard, but my body never could.  Weird.