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Guest Blog: Cindy Spencer Pape

Moonlight & Mechanicals, A Gaslight Chronicles novel by Cindy Spencer Pape

First of all, I’d like to thank Lucy for having me here today. Secondly, I’d like to chat about a little something that comes up in several of my steampunk books: condom use.

Whether you find that protection interferes with the fantasy in a romance novel or not, sometimes I think we do our readers and our characters a service by showing them being cautious. Condoms in the mid-nineteenth century in England were more common than you might think. In fact, condoms go back a lot further than you may have guessed. I’ve researched this more extensively than I ever thought I’d need to, and here is a little synopsis of what I’ve learned.

The first written reference to what we now call a condom was by an Italian scientist named Fallopio (yes, as in Fallopian tubes) in 1564. He claimed to have “invented” a device to prevent the spread of venereal disease. The description isn’t very detailed, but apparently it was a linen sheath that fit over the glans. He actually tested it on 1100 men and none of them became infected. So the condom for disease prevention isn’t a recent phenomenon. Another doctor published something similar in 1597. From there forward, there’s a pretty clear record of condom use and innovation. They’re mentioned in a French play from 1655, maybe in the correspondence of two French noblewomen from the late 1600s and quite extensively in the memoirs of the legendary Giacomo Casanova, published in 1797. The famous lover didn’t much like them and there’s an engraving in the book of he and a friend inflating them like balloons to entertain a pair of ladies, thus starting a proud tradition carried out by high school boys to this day. The word condom dates in print to 1706, in a poem, but the origins of the word remain a mystery. Legend says that a Dr. Condom introduced them to Charles II of England as a means of preventing additional illegitimate offspring, but no support of this has ever been found, and it’s now assumed to be a myth.

By the late 1700s you could find prophylactics made of hand sewn goat, sheep, or cow intestine, tanned fish skin, oiled silk, or even very fine leather. Some covered the whole penis, others were caps or “capottes” that just covered the glans, and most had a drawstring at the base to hold them in place. Condom technology really took off in the 1800s. They had great names like cundums, French Letters, French Preservatives, Male Safes, English Armor, and “Patent Circular Protector.” Early experiments with rubber were fairly unsuccessful, until Goodyear and Hancock (separately) in about 1844 invented the vulcanization process. The new technique allowed for much more durable protection, though the resulting condoms were thicker than those made of skin. They were also designed to be washed out and reused until the rubber started to crumble. The first advertisement for rubber condoms appeared in the New York Times in 1861, so we know they were widely available by then. In 1873, the Comstock Act prohibited the sale of contraceptives by mail in theUS, so for many years, they became harder to get with relative anonymity. The reservoir tip was added in 1901, and a method for making them without seams was discovered inGermany in 1912. In 1930 the latex condom was introduced, thus creating the rubber we know today.


Below is a little snippet from “Moonlight & Mechanicals.” I hope you can see what I mean about the protection fitting into and even being a part of the story.

“I didn’t get to the chemist.” His breath was shallow and choppy as he peeled away the rest of her clothes. When she stood there in nothing but stockings and garters, he groaned.

“In the drawer beside the bed. I stole some from the boys’ bathroom.” Her hand moved down to a garter and he growled.

“Leave those.” He’d remember the sight of her in just her stockings for the rest of his life. Now he wondered just how experimental his little firebrand could be. “Put your hands on the bureau and face the mirror.”

Her eyes widened, but she did as he said, leaning over the dresser with her delectable bottom pointed at him. It was all he could do not to spend then and there. With haste, he withdrew a French letter from the drawer and tied the sheepskin sheath over his penis. Then he stalked up to Wink.

“Watch the mirror.” He lowered his mouth to the side of her throat, sucking lightly on the spot where he’d marked her the day before. She quivered under his touch, moaning when he used his hands on her breasts. He watched over her shoulder, entranced by the sight of his darker fingers trailing over her fair skin and peach nipples. “You have freckles on your shoulders.” He hadn’t noticed those in his dimly lit room the night before.

She didn’t respond. He could see her fight to keep her eyes open as her arousal deepened.

He ran one hand down her flat belly to her mons. “Spread your legs a little and lean on the bureau more.”

She complied instantly, her backside brushing against his erection. Liam tested her, found her wet and ready for him. He positioned himself at her entrance and pressed inside.

“Oh.” Her eyes flew open and she met his gaze in the mirror. “That’s…nice.”

The angle allowed for deeper penetration and Liam nodded. He kissed her neck again, and used his fingers on her clitoris as he stroked in and out. It wasn’t long before she cried out his name and convulsed around him, her tight muscles milking his erection. His own climax speared through him and he shuddered helplessly as he poured himself into her heat.


Moonlight and MechanicalsLondon, 1859

Engineer Winifred “Wink” Hadrian has been in love with Inspector Liam McCullough for years, but is beginning to lose hope when he swears to be a lifelong bachelor. Faced with a proposal from a Knight of the Round Table and one of her closest friends, Wink reluctantly agrees to consider him instead.

Because of his dark werewolf past, Liam tries to keep his distance, but can’t say no when Wink asks him to help find her friend’s missing son. They soon discover that London’s poorest are disappearing at an alarming rate, after encounters with mysterious “mechanical” men. Even more alarming is the connection the missing people may have with a conspiracy against the Queen.

Fighting against time—and their escalating feelings for each other—Wink and Liam must work together to find the missing people and save the monarchy before it’s too late…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble


About the Author:

Award-winning author of over forty popular books and novellas in paranormal, historical, and erotic romance, Cindy Spencer Pape is an avid reader. According to The Romance Studio, her plots are “full of twist and turns that keep the reader poised at the edge of their seat.” Joyfully Reviewed said, her “colorful characters and plot building surprises kept me spellbound,” and Romantic Times Magazine says her “characters are appealing, and passionate sex leads to a satisfying romance.”

Cindy firmly believes in happily-ever-after. Married for more than twenty-five years to her own, sometimes-kilted hero, she lives in southern Michigan with him and two college-age sons, along with an ever-changing menagerie of pets.  Cindy has been, among other things, a banker, a teacher, and an elected politician, but mostly an environmental educator, though now she is lucky enough to write full-time. Her degrees in zoology and animal behavior almost help her comprehend the three male humans who share her household.

Blog: http://cindyspencerpape.blogspot.com/
Newsletter group: http://yhoo.it/ni7PHo
Twitter: http://twitter.com/CindySPape
Facebook: http://on.fb.me/gjbLLC

Guest Blogger: Nephylim


The very first story I published online was about vampires who turned out to be angels. I have always seen a connection between vampires and fallen angels and I’ve explored it quite a bit in my writing.

In these stories you’ll find a vampire and an angel but there is no connection and whether or not this angel is fallen depends, I guess, on the way you look at it. He’s definitely an insatiable monster but he’s still fighting on the side of the angels in the ultimate war of good and evil.

As well as vampires, I’ve had a fascination for paranormal beings of all kinds, especially shifters. The shifter in my collection is a werewolf. He’s in a bit of a mess emotionally and I’ve concentrated on that, rather than the  usual tormented soul of the monster thing. He’s definitely tormented but it’s the hormones.

There has always been a connection in mythology, I think, between vampires and werewolves and they have often been spoken of in the same sentence. They go together like nuns and bishops, vicars and tarts, apple pie and cream. I wonder why? There’s not much of a similarity. Apart from the fact they eat people.  Vampires can’t walk under the sun (NO not because they sparkle), but werewolves can. Werewolves only change at full moon, vampires can at will. Werewolves are mangy animals, vampires sexy and sophisticated.

I think the reason they are put together is because they appeal to our higher and lower instincts. Yes, the appeal is sexual, of course it is. Why else would we flock to see man/animals tear people apart? Because they’re sexy. The violence is sexy. The anticipation is sexy. And I don’t need to explain in what ways vampires are sexy… do I?

Vampires, I think, appeal to our sense of the aesthetic. Eternally young and beautiful. Refines ladies and gentlemen who drink wine from crystal goblets and wear beautiful suits and flowing gowns. The men are all slightly effeminate, with pale skin and long hair and the women are femme fatales. Sex on a plate.

Werewolves, on the other hand are animals, plain and simple. They appeal to our more base and carnal desires. The ones that want to be thrown on a bed and ravished. Hot breath on our bodies, huge penises thrust between our legs and the sense of danger that the teeth nipping our skin might just tear out our throats.

Anyway, that’s me. I’m a very sensuous and rather Freudian person. Everything boils down to sex in the end.


Aster is a vampire looking for someone. When he finds Kia his plan is to fuck him and drain him, but Kia has other ideas. Recognising Aster as the man he’s been waiting for, he turns the tide and seduces him, shocking him with secrets from the past. Together, they enter into an encounter that blows their minds and changes their lives forever.

Lucien is a werewolf. He’s always known he’s different. Definitely not an Alpha like his father. More akin to the bitches than the muscular Beta’s or lithe hunters he finds himself drawn to. When the enigmatic lone wolf arrives, with his pure white hair and ice blue eyes, Lucien is lost at first glance. After a burning hot dream he finally submits to the dominant male destined to be his mate for life.

Dema and Meri’el are an unlikely coupling. In the final war against good and evil they find themselves on opposing sides. Dema the demon and Meri’el the son of the King of Angels. Drugging each other with their bodies they unleash the primal fury of their true natures and rock the foundations of the earth and the heavens.

Grey doesn’t believe in curses. When he uncovers a cavern deep under the mountain feared by the villagers as a faery tomb, he scoffs at the superstition, until he meets a stranger who lures him into the wood. A steamy encounter in a forest glade has him wondering if being cursed is such a bad thing after all.

Shay is mourning the death of his soul mate, tormented by the fact he’d never told him how much he loved him. A knife in the back in a dark alley steals his chance to finally prove his commitment, until ghostly whisper in the same alley leads to a night of passion and the second chance both men crave, to finally find peace.


And then… wolves do not mate gently. We do not know how. One minute he’s licking me gently, and the next he’s leaping off me, turning me onto my stomach and sliding his claws into my hips. I struggle and howl but, before I can do much I feel his weight on my back and then…

He thrusts into me, deeply and powerfully. I howl again, throwing back my head and releasing the frustrations of eighteen years’ self-inflicted celibacy. My teeth descend, my claws raise a cloud of feathers from the bed and my tail whips his face as he pumps, hard and fast. My dick, swinging beneath me sends sparks into my head where it brushes the bedclothes, and his claws penetrating and retracting from the flesh of my hips only heightens the experience.



Five stories of the paranormal, designed to thrill and tease the senses and to challenge all you’ve ever been told about the creatures that go Hump in the Night.



All Romance http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-humpinthenight-786310-144.html

Amazon (UK)  http://www.amazon.co.uk/Hump-Night-Gay-Erotica-ebook/dp/B007Y7IC9S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1336126590&sr=1-1

Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Hump-Night-Gay-Erotica-ebook/dp/B007Y7IC9S/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1336126590&sr=1-1

Apple  http://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/hump-in-the-night/id524978900?mt=11



Nephylim was born into a poor mining family in the South Wales Valleys. Until she was 16, the toilet was at the bottom of the garden and the bath hung on the wall. Her refrigerator was a stone slab in the pantry and there was a black lead fireplace in the kitchen. They look lovely in a museum but aren’t so much fun to clean.

Nephylim has always been a storyteller. As a child, she’d make up stories for her nieces, nephews and cousin and they’d explore the imaginary worlds she created, in play.

Later in life, Nephylim became the storyteller for a re enactment group who travelled widely, giving a taste of life in the Iron Age. As well as having an opportunity to run around hitting people with a sword, she had an opportunity to tell stories of all kinds, sometimes of her own making, to all kinds of people. The criticism was sometimes harsh, especially from the children, but the reward enormous.

It was here she began to appreciate the power of stories and the primal need to hear them. In ancient times, the wandering bard was the only source of news, and the storyteller the heart of the village, keeping the lore and the magic alive. Although much of the magic has been lost, the stories still provide a link to the part of us that still wants to believe that it’s still there, somewhere.

In present times, Nephylim lives in a terraced house in the valleys with her son and her two cats. Her daughter has deserted her for the big city, but they’re still close. The part of her that needs to earn money is a lawyer, but the deepest, and most important part of her is a storyteller and artist, and always will be.



Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4462803.Nephylim

Blog – http://Nephylim-author.blogspot.co.uk

Facebook Page https://www.facebook.com/Nephylim.author


Guest Blog: Slave Nano

The Dark Ages. What Dark Ages?

They used to be called The Dark Ages and are still thought as such by many people but the interpretation of the Anglo-Saxon period of history has been revised and is now general recognised as being nothing of the kind.

For many years the heroic Anglo-Saxon tale Beowulf was considered to be just that – a tale about Scandanavian kingdoms that bore little relation to how people in Anglo-Saxon England lived their lives.

Then, in 1938, the Sutton Hoo ship burial was discovered.  The penny dropped.  The tales about hoards of gold, magnificent swords, decorated helmets and the exchange of golden rings were found to actually be an accurate description of the culture of the age.  Anglo-Saxon kings really did have hoards of this amazing stuff.

Then of course the Staffordshire Hoard was discovered in a farmer’s field a few years ago and re-enforced this.  The Anglo-Saxon’s were shown to have huge wealth, trading links to the outside world and the skilled craftsmen to fashion magnificent objects.  I had the privilege to see the Staffordshire Hoard when it first went on display in Stoke Museum.  I had to queue about 2 hours to get in as it had caught people’s imaginations so much but it was worth every minute for the privilege of seeing these wondrous artefacts.

So, when archaeologist Sam in my story shows Dan photographs of the things found in a burial mound and describes the source for the gold, amber and garnet, all of that is accurate. The gold would most likely have been coins from Byzantium, traded across Europe and then melted down to fashion ceremonial objects and jewellery.

So, to have Cyneburh, my own Pagan Sorceress, dripping with gold shoulder clasps, rings and jewellery would have been pretty realistic. Alhfrith’s sword with its garnet encrusted pommel in the shape of a horse’s head and Cyneburh’s sceptre mounted with a golden stag and other objects described in the story are all inspired by the real finds from Sutton Hoo and the Staffordshire Hoard.

Story blurb

The Pagan SorceressIf you’re looking for an erotic read this Halloween then check out Slave Nano’s new release ‘The Pagan Sorceress’.  The action takes place on Samhain as archaeology student Sam sets out to re-enact a Pagan burial ceremony.

If the author of the Anglo-Saxon heroic tale Beowulf did erotica what might it have sounded like?  That’s the challenge author Slave Nano has set himself in his newly released novella ‘The Pagan Sorceress’, partly set in the Anglo-Saxon era.

Sam is about to carry out a strange experiment.  She is an archaeology student specialising in reconstructive archaeology and her idea is to recreate an Anglo-Saxon pagan burial ceremony.  It’s Samhain eve and the night of a full moon so it’s the perfect time to carry out such a ritual.  She enlists the help of her friend, Dan, and together they go off to the site of a burial mound where wonderful swords and sceptres were excavated many years ago.

A travelling story teller is at the court of a Saxon king.  He recites the tale of two soul-entwined lovers from an earlier, more chaotic, period when king’s warred amongst each other.  He tells the tragic tale of Cyneburh, Pagan sorceress and daughter of the mighty Pagan king Penda and Alhfrith, son of Athelwald the king of Deira, her hero-warrior lover and betrothed.  The two kings have formed a mighty political and religious alliance but, more than that, the young woman and man have forged a passionate union of their own.  But this new alliance has enemies and before their wedding night is over there will be a tragic outcome.  As King Penda stands at the edge of their burial chamber he invokes a curse of vengeance against the murderous act perpetrated against him.  But, how many years will it take before he is finally avenged?

As Sam stands on top of the burial mound dressed as an Anglo-Saxon pagan priestess with Dan at her side, is she aware of what ancient powers she will invoke as their lives become entwined with those of Cyneburh and Alhfrith from many centuries ago?  Will the pagan king’s oath of vengeance be fulfilled?  Will the souls of the two lovers be finally released?

Story extract

……Sam pulled out some colour photographs from her notes. Dan gasped.

“Yeah, now this is incredible isn’t?  Fuck all the ‘Dark Ages’ stuff these guys were skilled craftsmen and they traded stuff in from all over Europe and beyond – gold from Egypt, lapis lazuli from one cave in Afghanistan, amber from Russia and, get this, tests on the stones in that sword show the garnet came from a single site in India.”

Dan was now caught up in the maelstrom of Sam’s enthusiasm for the subject and he couldn’t help but be amazed at the photos spread out before him; golden buckles and clasps in intricate geometric patterns inlaid with precious stones, rings fashioned in the shape of serpents and dragons, a ceremonial golden helmet and decorated shield and the two outstanding objects, a sword with a golden pommel in the shape of a horse’s head and set with stones of dark red garnet and a golden sceptre surmounted with a beautifully wrought stag’s head.

“Most of the barrows had standard domestic stuff – bowls, pins, broaches but one burial mound threw up this remarkable stuff.  These objects must have belonged to Anglo-Saxon royalty or at the very least an incredibly wealthy and powerful thane.  Historians have speculated over who might have been buried in the mound – a king or member of a royal family or, from the symbolism of the artefacts, some pagan priestess….

Buy links:





Author Bio

Slave Nano is a writer of erotic paranormal and fantasy stories with bdsm and fetish themes.  He has had short stories and novellas published by Xcite Books and House of Erotica.  His first erotic novel, ‘Adventures in Fetishland’, was published by Xcite in March 2012.

You can find out more about him and his writing at http://www.slavenano.co.uk

Guest Blog: Harry Blue

Just because I’m in my mid 60s doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about sex

Indeed, the older you get, in my case, the more I think about the enjoyment of it, the fulfilment, the excitement, the satisfaction. So that means that I can re-live what I used to be able to do, with the reader benefiting from my experience.

That’s why when I sat down to write Hot Vegas, I wanted it to be a suspense book with sex, as well as a sex book with suspense. They go hand in hand in Hot Vegas, just like laughter  belongs in a successful sit-com. The humour is in the situation, the sex in Hot Vegas is a result of the characters. They have to belong together, otherwise the reader won’t enjoy the narrative.

It’s great for me, in a way, because I have experienced a lot in my life, either first hand or by knowing that they occur, so a lot of these experiences are shared in Hot Vegas. No, I have never won the lottery (yet) but I can imagine what it would be like to win a large sum. But yes, I have been to Vegas, and I have stayed in top hotels around the world, experiencing the high standards expected when you spend large sums of money on luxury. No, I’m not going to tell you if the wife and I have ever fucked in a huge private swimming pool, with her giving me oral sex while I kept myself afloat, neither am I going to tell you if she went knickerless so was prepared to lift her dress when it was just the two of us in a lift, going to the penthouse suite, with me erect as usual, slipping effortlessly into her ever willing love box but insufficient time before the doors opened for me to come. Which I did in the apartment. But I am not going to tell you about us doing any of that. You will have to imagine the two main characters, Prudence and Jeff, fucking in these ways.

As well as many others.

They also have problems with the Mafia during their holiday of a lifetime, because Jeff is mistaken for the drug running courier with an Australian rock band. The FBI are on hand to ensure that all’s well that ends well, but in the meantime there’s quite a few deaths, Jeff is captured and held over the Grand Canyon while the goodies and baddies work out whose side he’s on, so by the time that they’ve recovered, they are ready for some relaxation. There’s a blackjack tournament that they have entered, big money jackpot, which they can afford because while in Vegas they have also been winning on the tables. They both love to play blackjack, so it’s only natural that they should continue with their playing. Do they win the jackpot? You will have to read Hot Vegas to find out.

I am writing a series of ‘Hot’ books, and the next one is called Hot Hits. This is about a contract hit woman who likes to get her revenge. But it starts with Roger, a 21 year old hunk who’s looking after his parent’s small hotel while they are away on holiday. Roger isn’t wearing much, as he is making beds and preparing the rooms for the next occupants. He’s all hot and sweaty as he makes the worst hotelier mistake – walks into a bedroom without knocking. Coming out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel is a sex hungry cougar, who doesn’t want to waste the opportunity of fucking a very willing big prick with stamina. When she’s finished with Roger, he is well fucked.

He meets up with Sue, who plays the trumpet in a local seaside silver band. Her lips have had many years practising with her instrument, so Roger’s instrument gains the benefit. Her band has been taken over by people smuggling crooks, who are also involved with Club Sadist, where people are strung up on stage to be tortured for the entertainment of the audience. Then killed. Roger is the last victim of Club Sadist. Who saves him? There’s a twist in the tale.

The next book is Hot MILF. I am writing that one now, so it should be ready soon.


Hot Vegas‘Soft Lips’ Prudence checks her lottery ticket in bed, and the noise she makes takes Jeff ‘Sex Machine’s attention away from the soccer results. Fulham have drawn again. They celebrate by making love, and then it’s off to Las Vegas first class for the holiday of a lifetime. Luxury all the way. But Jeff is mistaken for an Australian mobster, as they make love in a hotel lift, and a private box in a theatre, and their own intimate pool, and….Pop stars, the Mafia, and the FBI are all involved as we tour the gambling capital of the world, culminating in the biggest black jack gambling tournament to be held off the famous Strip.

Hot Vegas is available from Amazon UK, Amazon US, All Romance eBooks, Barnes & Noble and all other good eBook retailers.


Harry Blue

I write under the name Harry Blue, because that’s what I write – Blue.

It’s all romantic, full blown, one on one sex, with a good story to go with the erotica. A hero, a heroine, danger, suspense, everything’s in my books, all starting with the word Hot.

The reality is that I am a happily married man in my mid 60s, one daughter, three grand daughters, living on the south coast, dealing in antiques and a sight-seeing guide when I am not writing erotic novels.

I have been writing for thirty years, mainly comedy, so you can find out a lot more about me on www.harrythewriter.com

Filthy Friday: Slave Nano

This is the third blog post in a series I’m hosting to give readers an insight into the stories in erotic anthology, Smut by the Sea.

Say a big hello to Slave Nano!

Random musings on ice cream!

First up, can I thank Lucy for inviting me onto her web site to contribute to her series of ‘Filthy Friday’ blogs offered by authors of the ‘Smut by the Sea’ anthology.

My contribution to ‘Smut by the Sea’ is a story called ‘One Scoop or Two?’ and, yes, you’ve guessed, it features a lot of ice cream…and an equal portion of oral sex too!

‘Danatoni’s’, the ice cream parlour in my story is based on my childhood memories of another ice cream parlour, ‘Morelli’s’ in Broadstairs, a seaside town in the south east of the UK, also famous for its association with a rather more illustrious writer, Charles Dickens.  I love ice cream.  When I read through my story and came to the description of the character Darren, ”stood, goggle-eyed and drooling, gazing at the ice cream looking like a pervert let loose in the red light district of Amsterdam” I suddenly realised, oh my god, that’s me, I do that!  Darren returns with his girlfriend, Keeley, to the ice cream parlour he remembers from his childhood and that’s where the fun really starts.

These days you can get a cornucopia of varieties of ice cream and exotic flavours.  But back when I was growing up in the early 1960s there was no such choice.  There was the ice cream van selling ‘Mr Whippy’ (tee-hee, a name that has amusing connotations for a writer of BDSM erotica!), which came down the road I lived with its ‘Greensleeves’ jingle.  Now, what is it about ‘Greensleeves’ and ice cream vans?  What marketing man dreamed up the idea that, oh let’s play a Tudor ballad, that’ll get the kids flocking in?  The funny thing is it worked, as the sound of the jingle was a call to all the children on the street to rush out and buy a cornet or a strawberry Mivvi.  Aah, Mivvi’s – now there’s the classic ice lolly for you!

But the height of exotic ice cream experience then (this was before the days of those US interlopers Baskin-Robins with their new-fangled blueberry cheesecake ice cream) was a block of Wall’s Neapolitan.  I mean, it had three flavours, all in one block, how good was that?!  I remember that before it settled down into its classic combo of vanilla, strawberry and chocolate an early version had green ice cream, how amazing?  I suppose this was meant to be pistachio though I doubt if it had ever seen a real pistachio nut but it was green, so, hey, that’s ok.. Because of that, and to this very day, my favourite flavour is still pistachio. When I was last in Italy faced with an ice cream parlour in Sam Gimignano (the Tuscan hill-top town with all the towers) with an amazing range of flavours and boasting both that it made the best ice cream in Italy (an awesome claim) and also that Tony Blair frequented it on his many holidays in Tuscany (hmm, not so great a claim) I chose pistachio for that classic Italian gelato experience.

Sorry, I’m digressing.  Now, of course this was why Morelli’s was such an inspiring place for a kid.  Genuine Italian ice cream parlours were a pretty rare occurrence when I was growing up and this one was amazing with a choice of flavours that was mind boggling to a child brought up on Arctic Roll (hands up who remembers that!).  And of course, just like Danatoni’s in my story, Morelli’s made damned fine ice cream! This was clearly one of my formative childhood experiences, which is why I simply had to pay homage to it in my story.  So folks, will it be one scoop or two?

One Scoop or Two?

Keeley’s boyfriend, Darren, had promised to take her on a weekend away.  Anticipating a romantic city break she is disappointed to discover what he has in mind is a trip to a traditional seaside town from his childhood.  But things take a distinctive turn for the better when the couple accidently get themselves locked into an ice cream parlour.  Ice cream sundaes will never be the same again for Keeley!

Story extract

“You’ve been a good boy,” she smiled, “so I think I’m going to treat you to an ice cream.”  She picked a metal scoop up and cast her eyes across the coloured mounds of ice cream, “Hmm, what flavour? I know just the thing, the classic Italian ice cream, pistachio.”

She plunged the scoop into the pastel green mound of ice cream covered with chopped nuts.  She held the scoop over his crotch and looked him in the eye with a wicked gaze and then released the scoop of ice cream onto his cock.  He gasped and wriggled in the chair, gripping tightly onto the arms just as she had done.

“Hmm, I think we’ll have some whipped cream on that,” she said as she squirted oodles of cream from an aerosol can, “and some chocolate sauce,” as she squeezed a stream of syrupy brown sauce onto the ice cream, “oh, and some hundreds and thousands to decorate,” as she took a handful of the multi-coloured sugar strands and sprinkled them over the ice cream and chocolate sauce.

Darren sat there in ecstasy as he looked down on his erect cock smothered in the combination of ice cream, cream, chocolate sauce and sugar strands….

Slave Nano

Find out more about Slave Nano and his writing at www.slavenano.co.uk

Smut by the SeaLight hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the sun soaked bays of Australia to the rainy coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Surfer boys, sea creatures, pirates and the fairground abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Buy your copy here!


Filthy Friday: M. A. Stacie

This is the first blog post in a series I’m hosting to give readers an insight into the stories in erotic anthology, Smut by the Sea.

Say a big hello to M. A. Stacie!

Saucy Seaside Stories

Huge thanks to Lucy for inviting me onto her blog. It’s a pleasure to be asked, and to be included in the Smut by the Sea anthology.

My short, Ice Cream Kisses, is one of the many stories within in the wonderful anthology, and I stumbled upon the submission call after Lucy sent out a tweet. I adore the great British seaside and spent many summers making sand castles and riding on the funfair. There’s nowhere quite like it so I knew I had to write something for it.

The seaside always reminds me of ice cream, fish and chips and those really greasy, sugary donuts you buy on the pier. Yum! However, the idea of writing a sexy scene within a chip shop or donut stall didn’t quite do it for me. That’s how my lush ice cream man started out. I’m sure my dad would be horrified that I’d turned my childhood memories into smutty fantasies.

With many of my short stories, I like to add a back story, but one that doesn’t give all the answers. Skye will therefore always be a little bit of an anomaly. Ice Cream Kisses is just one small moment in her life. Her past, and future for that matter, are left to the reader’s imagination.

Deciding exactly what my couple would get up to was the hardest (no pun intended) part of all. I find the excitement and nerves when a couple could get caught always intriguing to read though writing it was a challenge. I’d chosen a very busy seaside—Brighton Beach, and at a very busy time—an open air concert, so keeping the anxiety level while still conveying what the couple were up to was taxing. There was certainly a lot of ‘Fat Boy Slim’ music played while writing it…just to get the atmosphere, as he’s held a few open air concerts on Brighton Beach.

There may also have been a little product testing with the ice cream. It would have been wrong not to research the story, right? People say write what you know. Well, now I know an awful lot about ice cream, but maybe not so much about saucy interludes with the ice cream seller in the back of his shop.

Thanks again to Lucy!


M.A. Stacie


Website: www.mastacie.com

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Smut by the SeaLight hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the sun soaked bays of Australia to the rainy coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Surfer boys, sea creatures, pirates and the fairground abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Buy your copy here!