Friday, 22 August 2014

UNDERNEATH THE GARGOYLE; Christina Harding





There’s an old church built of stone; they don’t build structures like that anymore. I have an image in my mind of grey age. Yes, I am correct; the writer, Christina Harding tells me that the church has been standing for centuries. Something else they don’t do anymore is put Gargoyles on the roofs of churches; and there are gargoyles here, on this building, another testament to age. Yes, the gargoyles too have been perched here for centuries, watching and waiting. It’s spooky, for whom are the gargoyles watching and waiting? A tremor tickles up my spine…

Trisha, our protagonist, walks to the entrance of the church. The gargoyles watch her. Trisha challenges them with a stony glance; she has no fear of their menacing gaze. And this first chapter of Christina Harding’s erotic novel, “Underneath the Gargoyles,” is defined by watching, looking; voyeurism drives the narrative.

It is choir practice in the church. Trisha is asked by Father Cohen, the choir master, to sing a solo. Trisha watches her boyfriend, Kyle as she sings; she watches Kyle watching her. The novel is in the first person and the reader is privy to Trisha’s rapacious, lascivious thoughts; Kyle naked. Kyle’s swaying, proud erection; she replays the ripping thrust of Kyle’s erection penetrating her. And Kyle watches Trisha watching him. Trisha also watches Kyle’s dad; Father Cohen. She notes his strong forearms and wonders how long it has been since he has been with a woman. She also wonders about his body beneath his priest’s robes; her eyes undress him. As Trisha sings her lovely lament, she watches Father Cohen’s eyes fixing on her, watching the rise and fall of her ample breasts.

And if fetishistic voyeurism drives the narrative, fetishistic exhibitionism is hot on its tail. As Trisha sings, she knows that she is turning on the two men, father and son and that thought alone is enough to provoke an arousal which cannot be ignored.

Trisha’s friend, Olivia watches all three.
Father and son; Trisha has had one. She wants both.

Christina Harding’s protagonist is defined by her outrageous promiscuity.

Trisha’s fingers stray to her clitoris and she masturbates; she needs to have sex soon, very, very soon. Remember, this is all taking place in a church. The air is heavy, scented, saturated, not with the odour of holy incense, but with the stink of sexual tension and Trisha’s giddy pheromones. Olivia watches her friend’s erotic display. And the Gargoyles watch too. And the fetishistic ending to this story will blow you away, really it will; it blew me away.

I cannot believe that this is Christina’s first venture into erotica, but it is. She has learnt and honed her craft well. Christina knows exactly how to titillate her reader, how to seduce; she writes carefully, with her aroused reader always in mind. She knows how to keep her reader reading. Trisha’s sexual antics are raw and lusty. I’m getting a vicarious thrill from Trisha’s predatory demands for sex; she wants it now and she wants it a lot. Christina has indeed created a monster; but Trisha is a monster who delights the reader. She’s sacrilegious; relishing in the profanity of having sex in the graveyard and she has made me laugh out loud at her refreshingly, guilt free, outrageous behaviour; read this book and you will be shocked and delighted at Trisha’s healthy yearning for sex. No hang ups for this lady; she’s refreshing. A strong young woman who turns sexual gratification into an art form.

Christina has created a book of Erotica that will delight the lover of the genre. She writes with a style and panache that other writers of the genre will envy. Christina Harding is a bold, provocative, creative writer; absolutely and most definitely, more, more, more from her…please.

Here are the outlets for Christina Harding's cool book...


Universal Amazon Purchase Link: Smashwords: Barns and Noble: iTunes: Screwpulp: (First 25 downloads are free!) Goodreads: My blog: My twitter:



Friday, 15 August 2014

LAURA REESE CONFRONTS THE TABOO; TOPPING FROM BELOW



TOPPING FROM BELOW, by Laura Reese, is not for the fainthearted. I started reading it with trepidation; the book at arms’ length. I had a good idea where it was going -- and I didn’t know if I’d be able to handle it. I’d written a feature for my blog, on bestiality in literature. Why was it so taboo; it’s in classical art and literature, so why are editors and publishers so fearful of going anywhere near it?

So there I was, with the real thing in my hand -- and I was scared. I’d been quite brave in my essay -- at least, I thought I had. I’d had a lot of intelligent response; one in particular from Neve Black, who’d recommended TOPPING FROM BELOW to me. What was there to be afraid of?
I knew the book contained the real act: yes, bestiality. Neve had told me. So with chilly uncertainty nipping at my fingertips, I opened the book and started to read.
I’m tempted to describe this book as a ‘decline and fall,’ story. But it isn’t really that, because there is no fall. There’s no retribution, because the narrator doesn’t recognise that she’s done anything wrong. No sin has been committed. By the end of the book, she understands that something has been drawn out of her; something that should have remained hidden.

Nora knows who killed her sister, Franny. She knows without a doubt. The culprit has been questioned, but no charges have been made.
Nora is determined to prove his guilt and have him brought to justice; it is how she goes about this that elevates TOPPING FROM BELOW, from dark pornography, to a powerful, beautifully crafted story.

Nora’s suspect is a charismatic sadomasochist. Franny, her murdered sister, had fallen under his spell and Nora sets about taking Franny’s place. She learns of Franny’s degradation and humiliation and learns how Franny embraced one perversion after another, just to please the man she believed loved her. The difference between the two sisters, is that Franny’s actions filled her with self loathing. Nora accepts each perversion as a new way of life.

In her closing chapter, Nora, the narrator, tells us;
“M awakened in me passions I didn’t know existed…”
But she is reconciled within herself. Nora continues;

“A year ago I would’ve said there was a clear line separating the good from the evil. I would’ve said that evilness belonged in the netherworld and that evil men existed beyond the peripheries of decency. Now I’m not so sure. I believe that there is a dark side that belongs to us all, lying beneath the surface of our humanity, twisted extreme and savage in some of us, less severe in others, but always present and always at struggle with the civilised soul…”

There are dark places in our hearts; those secret doors that are best left closed.

I’m glad I read Laura Reese’s book and I am so glad that Neve Black recommended it to me. As I said TOPPING FROM BELOW, isn’t for the fainthearted. It’s challenging and confrontational -- but it’s also a damn good story I definitely recommend it, and I shall certainly be reading it again. When Neve first told me about Laura Reese’ book it was out of print, but I was lucky enough to get it via a private seller. Thankfully, it is now back in print.

Published in 1995, TOPPING FROM BELOW is available at Amazon UK and Amazon US in hard copy and as a Kindle e-read.

Friday, 8 August 2014

SHOP GIRLS; THE ASPIRATIONS OF WOMEN



Today, most of the people working in shops are women. But 150 years ago being served by a woman would have been a phenomenon. The story of how women swept onto our shop floors is an extraordinary one. Our shop girl had to negotiate a journey from being almost invisible in the stark Victorian stores to being the beating heart of today’s vibrant shops. There is a drama behind her history; her exploitation by ruthless shop keepers and her enjoyment of selling beautiful objects. She had a defiant fight on her hands against the trashy reputation of class snobbery and her cult status. The shop girls have a voice, as do their bosses and their customers. And ultimately, through the shop girls’ stories, we can see how society changes, when 1,000 young women eventually made it into shop work.



In July, 1861, the Glasgow Daily Herald newspaper ran a bizarre story. The headline ran; “Romantic Freak of a Glasgow Girl of 16”

It was reported that a young man had answered an advertisement for a shop assistant. He was hired and all went well for the first few days – the lad giving “extra satisfaction,” according to the article. But then, the young man’s land lady visited the shop and the shopkeeper was told that his employee was not a boy, but a girl. The article went on to say that at first the shop assistant tried to deny it, but eventually confessed to being a girl of 16. Her boss fired her immediately; he only employed men. We don’t know whom she was or what was really driving her, but remarkably she did it again. Another Ad, another job once again disguised as a boy. The story sums up neatly attitudes to shop work at the time. The fact that she was labelled a romantic freak shows just how puzzling people found her. Why would a girl want to break into such a male domain? This girl was ready to do whatever it took to challenge an old order. Shop work was closed to most women in the mid-19th century.




Wisbech in the Fens. In the 18th century it was one of the most thriving market towns in Cambridgeshire. It boasted elegant Victorian and Georgian buildings, rows of shops and prosperous, independent tradesmen. It was also home to a photographer, Samuel Smith who captured street images of the time; an innocent insight into the town’s shop life. Wisbech was a typical provincial
town and all of its shops were owned and staffed by men. Mid-19th century Wisbech reflected the entrenched customs of a country where women weren’t forbidden from working in shops, they were there but were virtually invisible on the shop floor. The old shopocracy was hanging onto its traditions by passing everything; trade, business, employment down the male line. And in the great metropolis, London, the picture was barely any different.

London was buzzing. Its coffers swelled by money from the Empire and its position and status as the world’s most powerful trading nation. In the 1850s London was the biggest city in the world with a population of over two and a half million and its commercial influence spreading across the globe. London boasted a vast array of luxury shops from the Piano Forte maker, to the Corset maker. From the Turtle Soup makers to the Purveyors of Biscuits to the Royal Family. On the outside, the vast variety of goods for sale must have seemed delightfully tempting especially for the new middle classes with money to spend, but inside the shopping experience was quite daunting. An aristocratic lady of the 19th century, was recorded to have remarked that she found shopping “uniquely unpleasant.” The idea that shopping could be made pleasant was still a world away. London was bursting with shops, but women were employed in very few of them.



One prestigious shop, sold the most expensive drinks of the mid-19th century day; tea and coffee. This shop goes back to the times when people weren’t expected to go into the shop. Shop windows were thrown open and buying and selling was conducted directly onto the street. This particular shop now sells exclusive wines and they now employ women, but only since the 1980s.

Inside the mid-19th century shop, even in the city, male dominance of the shopping business looked set to continue. But outside, long held traditions were changing rapidly. More and more working men were being drawn into the factories and offices of the big industrial cities. Others went abroad to seek new lives and prosperities in the Empire. Shops no longer had their ready supply of young men and apprentices. They had to compete with the employers of big industry. As for women the problems they faced in gaining work were startling and were revealed when the 1850 census was published. It showed that out of 20 million people there were estimated to be two and a half million unmarried women in Britain who were self-supporting and as well as this, there were over half a million more women than men in the population overall.

Without the support of a kindly husband, as Victorian tradition would have it, the question was, what to do with all of these women?


In the late 1850s, a group of radically minded women met at 19 Langham Place in Upper Regent’s Street, London. They were there to address an urgent problem – how to get the huge surplus of unmarried women into work? They saw shop work as one of the key areas of employment; they formed the Society for the Employment of Women and they set up a school to train women in such areas as mental arithmetic, needed for calculating a customer’s change, or weighing foodstuffs, or measuring fabrics. In addition the women were schooled in hand writing, reading, as well as social skills such as politeness and deportment. In order to serve middle class women in shops a girl had to shed the appearance of her lower middle class or working class roots. She had to reinvent herself in deportment and speech. The aim was to show that women were capable of carrying out shop work as readily as men. The ladies were collectively known as The Ladies of Langham Place and their radical ideas were to change long held ideas that work for a woman was demeaning and unladylike.



It’s a story of aspiration; by the 1860s women were beginning to find work in shops. The consumer world was expanding and shop girls fitted the bill. Shopping had arrived on a grand scale and a new frontier was opening; the coming of the department store. The old Jenner’s shop on Prince’s Street, Edinburgh burnt down in 1892 and in 1893 the Scottish architect, William Hamilton Beattie was appointed to design the new store which subsequently opened in 1895. It is noted by the statutory listing that, at Charles Jenner's insistence, the building's caryatids were intended 'to show symbolically that women are the support of the house'. The new store included many technical innovations such as electric lighting and hydraulic lifts. In 1909, Harry Gordon Selfridge opened his Selfridge department store on Oxford Street London. Mr Selfridge had a relentless innovative marketing drive and it was expressed in his Oxford Street store. He tried to make shopping fun; an adventure instead of a chore. He put merchandise on display so customers could examine it, put the highly profitable perfume counter front-and-centre on the ground floor, and established policies that made it safe and easy for customers to shop – techniques that have been adopted by modern department stores the world over. Mr Selfridge is popularly held to have coined the phrase "the customer is always right" and Mr Selfridge used it regularly in his extensive marketing.

And the lovely, stylish young women who were employed in the Selfridge department store seduced their customers with richly coloured silks from the Orient; softly sensuous velvets from Arabia and Haute Couture designs from Paris.

The shop girl had arrived.

Monday, 4 August 2014

UNDERNEATH THE GARGOYLE; CHRISTINA HARDING



A Debut Erotica by Christina Harding!

A real treat for you this week! The writer Christina Harding has ventured into my favourite genre! Erotica! Read about Christina's cool book here and it's a free download from Smashwords until this Friday 8th August! Right after I've finished this post I'm heading on over to Smashwords to get my freebie! Over to Christina!


I am proud to announce my debut erotic novelette - Underneath the Gargoyle!! After reading and reviewing much erotica, I decided to try my hand at writing it myself. This project has been secretly in the works for a while now, and I can't be more excited to finally share it with you!

Genre:
Paranormal BDSM

Synopsis:
Trisha is a Catholic choir member and believes nobody knows the extent of her promiscuity. Little does she know the gargoyles are watching her.

"Every time I walk into my church, I get the creepy feeling that the gargoyles are watching
me. The church is on top of a hill overlooking our small town. And the gargoyles have been
perched up on the roof, surveying us for centuries. This afternoon I have choir practice, and I
stare down the gargoyles as I enter the church, per my standard procedure. They don’t scare me
no matter how menacing they look, and I’m letting them know it."

Advance Praise:
"This was fun to read -- clever and sexy and laugh-out-loud funny."

Release Special:

Limited time offer! Download Underneath the Gargoyle for FREE from Smashwords! Use coupon code CV38M at checkout. Act soon - the coupon expires on August 8! If you download it for free and you enjoy what you read, I would like to ask that you please write a review on your favorite retailer.

Available From These Retailers:

Amazon US: Amazon UK:

It's at Smashwords: (don't forget that coupon CV38M) It's here at Screwpulp:

And it's coming very soon to more retailers!

Readers can also purchase Underneath the Gargoyle directly from me via paypal for $0.99 in these formats:EPUB: MOBI/Kindle: PDF:

Other important links:

Goodreads:

My blog:

My twitter:

Friday, 25 July 2014

RUTH ELLIS



On the night of Easter Sunday, April 10, 1955, Ruth Ellis took a .38 calibre revolver from her handbag and fired six shots at David Blakely outside The Magdala Pub, in Hampstead, London. Blakely was taken to hospital with multiple wounds and was subsequently pronounced dead. Gladys Kensington Yule, a passer-by, also sustained a slight wound when a bullet fired by Ellis ricocheted off the pavement and hit her in the hand. Ellis made no attempt to leave the scene, asking a witness to call the police. She was arrested and charged with Blakely's murder. The jury at the trial took just 14 minutes to convict her, and she received a mandatory death sentence and was the last woman to be executed in the UK.




'I intended to kill him,' she told the court at her trial for shooting her lover. In 1955 that was enough. But, as the High Court heard last week, the last woman in Britain to be hanged was herself a victim of violence. Was it also class that did for her?
By Catherine Pepinster
Sunday, 21 September 2003; from The Independent & The Independent on Sunday

Ruth Ellis was many women: a mother, a nightclub hostess, a wife, a sister, a killer. But, like Myra Hindley, she is remembered as a caricature: the hard-faced bitch with the peroxide hair. The last woman to be hanged in Britain. But last week she became a person again, with all the complications that involves, as the High Court appeal into her conviction for murder in 1955 began. Her QC, Michael Mansfield, depicted a woman tormented who today would never be convicted.

The story of Ruth Ellis is well-known: that she took a shotgun and pumped four bullets into her lover, the racing driver David Blakely, outside the Magdala pub in Hampstead on Easter Sunday, 1955. The opinions of those of a certain age will always be influenced by Ellis's portrayal by Diana Dors in 1956's Yield to the Night. Others will think of Miranda Richardson's extraordinary performance in 1985's Dance with a Stranger: a complex mixture of survivor and victim, able to be tough to others, with a voice which rose to a thin screech whenever she was tormented by her abusive scoundrel of a lover, played by Rupert Everett. Last week Ellis became someone else: this time, according to Michael Mansfield, she was the subject of battered women's syndrome. He argues that the murder conviction be replaced with one of manslaughter.

But who was she really? Years ago, at the time Dance with a Stranger was first released, I interviewed her sister Muriel Jakubait for a newspaper feature. There in her living room was a family photo in a silver frame. It was of a different Ruth, a gentler, more vulnerable one. A Ruth forgotten. Later she took me to Ruth Ellis's grave. It is in a Buckinghamshire graveyard, not far from that of Blakely. There is no headstone, no memorial; nothing to attract the ghouls. Only a few flowers, often red carnations, left by her sister who has tried, year after year, to keep Ruth Ellis a human being, not a tabloid shorthand for evil. Muriel Jakubait explains her sister through the narrative of her whole life, not just her fatal love affair with Blakely. And that narrative reveals her as this: a very English killer. For her story is a story of class.

Ruth Ellis was born on 9 October 1926, the fourth child of a failed musician, Arthur Neilson, and his Belgian wife Elisaberta. Frustrated in his career, Neilson drank heavily and abused his wife and children. Both Ruth Ellis and her sister Muriel were raped by their father. "You have to understand how Ruth and I were brought up," says Mrs Jakubait. "Our father was a strict and frightening man. We were cowed, kept down. Made to feel insignificant."

Ellis yearned to escape her background, telling her sister and her mother that she was going to make something of herself. But for a teenage girl in the war years, growing up in a dysfunctional family and with little education, there were few prospects.

After a short time in a munitions factory, and with an illegitimate son by a Canadian soldier, Ellis trod a path long familiar to women with no real opportunities. She traded on her youth and looks by becoming a "hostess" at a West End drinking club, entertaining clients in the flat upstairs. It was there that she met the dentist George Ellis, a man she married in an apparent attempt to find middle-class respectability. After giving birth to a daughter, and too many beatings, she left.

Morrie Conley, later exposed in the Sunday tabloids of the time as the head of a Mayfair vice ring, had seen that Ruth Ellis was a sociable woman who attracted punters and made her manageress of The Little Club in Knightsbridge. In Fifties London, the club afforded middle-class businessmen, RAF officers, and alcoholics with private incomes an opportunity for drinking, adultery and shedding their outer veneer of respectability.
It was at the club that she met the wealthy businessman Desmond Cussen, and later David Blakely, with whom she fell in love. Blakely was louche, good-looking, a man spoilt by his divorcee mother and with a penchant for racing cars. The relationship with Ellis was tempestuous: for all her apparent easy-going sociability, she had as foul a temper as Blakely. They were both uneasily jealous of one another, both suspicious of the various alternative lovers with whom they consorted. She became pregnant by Blakely twice; the first time, she had an abortion, and on the second occasion, Blakely, who followed in her father and husband's footsteps with his violence, punched her in the stomach, causing her to miscarry.

Ellis shot him just a few days after the miscarriage, and following several days of arguments, tears and remonstrations. The last bullet was fired into him from just three inches away.

A defendant is always likely to have a better chance if there is any empathy with defence counsel. Ellis and Melford Stevenson appeared to have none. In the dock she appeared cold and uninvolved, apart from shedding tears when shown a photo of Blakely. Her behaviour, according to Helena Kennedy QC, is something we understand better today: "So many witnesses, particularly women who have gone through an emotional battering, disengage from events and give their evidence in a cool, remote way."

This became evident when Ellis was asked what she had intended to do when she shot David Blakely: "I intended to kill him."
Faced with her impassivity, it was difficult for Stevenson to convince the court that she should be acquitted of murder because her emotional disturbance had been affected by jealousy. The judge dismissed the argument, directing the jury to consider the charge of murder. They took 14 minutes to find her guilty. There was no mention of Desmond Cussen's role in providing her with the gun, or the emotional impact of the miscarriage.

Since her death Ellis has been many different women. To the tabloids and pulp crime writers, a villain. To law reformers, a cause célèbre. To Michael Mansfield, the example of a syndrome. Domestic violence experts, however, disagree. One said last week that the existence of the syndrome itself is disputed. "Labels like this aren't helpful. Her problem was she found a man who was a controlling bastard."

Nearly 50 years after her death, Ruth Ellis still haunts us. Her husband committed suicide; so did her son. Her daughter, Georgie, died last year of cancer, after campaigning to have the case reviewed. Her sister refuses to let her be forgotten: "She was a lovely girl, who did not receive the justice she was entitled to."

Ruth Ellis, though, seemed to think justice was done. Before Albert Pierrepoint hanged her at Holloway, before she stepped to the gallows, she gave him a small smile. Ruth Ellis wrote to Blakely's mother, accepting her culpability: "I shall die loving your son. And you should feel content that his death has been repaid."


Friday, 18 July 2014

LIFE AS AS SEX CHAT LINE WORKER



I want to introduce Jenny Ainslie-Turner to you; Jenny is my friend and we follow each other on Twitter. Jenny is also a sex chat line worker. I asked her to tell me about her life as a sex chat line worker and how she got into it. As her alter ego, Jolene, Jenny talks about anything and everything to her clients. The phone calls that she responds to are graphic; taboo, not for the fainthearted. As Jolene, Jenny spins a confection of seductive dreams and garish, ghoulish nightmares, fetish and fantasy for her clients; the men who call her….Here’s what Jenny told me…it’s an intriguing slice of life…



I started doing sex chat some 12 years ago, with Datapro Services I was a complete novice at talking dirty and they gave no training. I had always worked with Army and RAF
lads for 18 years prior to this, so I sort of already knew how their minds worked.

It was at a time where I’d just broken up from my second husband and thanks to him selling my home from underneath me I became homeless. My mother, back in my home town of
Newark, found me a place close to her. So, leaving all my friends and the area that I knew and loved so well I became rather isolated. Shortly after moving back to Newark my mother suffered a heart attack and needed to be care for. I became a carer for her but the benefits to help with her care were a pittance and I was used to taking care of myself financially. I had actually seen a documentary on Channel 4 about single mums who, once their kids were at school, logged on to a sex chat company and straight away I knew that was the job for me.

I’d been around men most of my working life and rather missed the banter. And, as I was always a suggestive digestive, a prick-teaser in other words. It was the perfect job for me and I could do the hours to fit around taking care of mum. Not long into the job I realised I’d got this outrageously dirty imagination. I had discovered my writing abilities a few years before but as I was not educated I struggled to perfect my writing skills over quite a few years. As I found myself creating little fantasy worlds for my callers my writing also improved.

So, I wrote my book, “How To Talk Dirty, A Hands on Guide to Phone Sex”.

My video on YouTube was picked by a TV production company, they thought I’d look good on TV and was perfect for their doc, ’My Phone Sex Secrets’ which was shown on Channel 4. Who would have thought the documentary that started me in my line of work would eventually have me starring in a similar documentary.

Also, I now give relationship advice as part of a panel in the Metro Monday supplement. My next achievement is to have my own column of sex advice and tips. I just love helping people in all kind of ways. And, thanks to my documentary I have a successful training business, teaching would be chat girls and all ladies in the art of phone sex.

Added to this, I am writing my first work of fiction – it’s not totally fiction because there’s a good part of me and my chat calls in the book. I am writing it with one of my callers Alix James; by coincidence he’s a writer too and when we created our fantasies together over the phone we discovered a compatibility neither of us had experienced before, so much so we plan to write many books together. In fact we have become the very best of friends and I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

Alix and I are really good close friends now. I’ve met him and his family many times. We have another book out, “Dragon's Flame”. It's the first in a trilogy of shape-shifting dragons. We plan to write many more in the next two years. That's what I hope to be, just an author.

You can find Jenny at her website. Jenny’s books are available there too.

Jenny can be found on Twitter; jennyjo121

Her books are all available at Amazon UK and Amazon US

Friday, 11 July 2014

FETISH TRANSCENDENCE by billierosie



I am so pleased and happy to announce that my new book is out! Fetish Transcendence; the dark side of desire. The new collection of erotica from billierosie. Twelve stories; each story celebrating the magical, mystical diversity of human sexual experience. Those secrets and lies that we keep well hidden; that we dare not admit to ourselves, but make their presence felt through our fantasies and dreams. Dark desires that arouse in the heat of the night when our darker side cannot help but give in.

There’s a potpourri of fetish within these pages; it’s a collection that will impress the connoisseur of erotic fiction and the new reader, whose only experience of erotica is Fifty Shades of Grey…You’ll find Dominants and their submissives in strange, unexpected places in Fetish Transcendence. The opening tale tells of Freddie, the security guard in an exclusive London store, who has a very creative way of dealing with shoplifters.

Lovers, Allen and Clara elope, but there are dangers on the road to the little church where they can legally marry. In Fruits de Mer you’ll learn of Josiah’s exotic, erotic taste for les moules, while in Sherlock Holmes and the Curse of the Moonstone, Sherlock Holmes and Watson solve yet another intriguing mystery through the powerful force of outrageous sex.

One dirty phone call precipitates another in Touch, while in Body Swap, Simon and Clarice turn their unique, extrasensory gift to their advantage; love and lust carries them through the generations. They have no fear of the tomb; they have defeated death itself.

The rocky road to attaining sanctity is told through a terrible, sacrilegious confession to Father Abraham. It’s a confession of an abomination; an unspeakable sexual perversion that threatens the immortal soul.

The heat of the crowd generates its own dark mood of erotica. There’s hardly any room to breathe let alone move. It’s hot and sweaty. Someone presses up close behind you; too close. You know exactly what is going on but you are powerless to stop it; to do anything about it. You can’t even turn around to confront your violator. Poor Julia! Will she ever get over the humiliation?

And there’s a holiday romance; a romance with a difference for this submissive male and the Dominant woman who knows how he can achieve real pleasure.

The two final tales tell of Anastasia; the lucky lady who inherits millions. You’d think she would be happy, but there is Marcus whom she adores, but who doesn’t want her. And driving the narrative there is a diary. A piece of pornography that teaches Anastasia about a long ago sexual awakening – an awakening worthy of the Marquis de Sade himself.

Fetish Transcendence is available now as a Kindle e-read at Amazon UK and at Amazon US

None of the stories featured in Fetish Transcendence have been used on Twitter as 'free reads' 'Security' appeared in Sizzler's 'London' anthology; 'Winnat's Pass' appeared in Sizzler's 'The Love That Never Dies; erotic encounters with undead' anthology; 'Fruits de Mer' appeared in Sizzler's 'Hunger' anthology; 'Retribution' appeared in Logical Lust's 'Best S&M III; And 'Sherlock Holmes & the Curse of the Moonstone' appeared in Sizzler's 'My Love of All that is Bizarre, the erotic adventures of Sherlock Holmes'. The rest of the stories are brand spanking new -- as I say, you will not have read any of these stories on Twitter.


And do please use Amazon's "look inside" feature for a taster!

And a huge and massive thanks to Francis Potts for his infinite patience – my book would never have seen the light of day without Francis’ help.