Giveaway: To help me celebrate the launch of Landscapes, I’m giving away a $30/£20 Amazon gift voucher. Enter via the Rafflecopter for chances to win!
When Characters just Keep On Giving
I’d like to thank the totally fabulous Dirty Birdies for hosting me on the final day of my Landscapes blog tour and giveaway! It’s a real treat to be here with you lovely ladies.
I’ll admit it, okay? Sometimes a writer just falls in love with her own character. It doesn’t happen often, at least not for me, but when it does, I guess I become a bit of a stalker. That was certainly the case with Alonso Darlington. I wasn’t nearly ready to say good-bye to him at the end of Landscapes.
After the Brit Boys: On Boys Book Bundle came out, in which Landscapes first appeared, I had several somewhat fan-fic-ie sort of encounters with Alonso on my blog – all because I just wanted to spend more time with him and his entourage. Sometimes characters seem real enough that you just want to stay with them awhile after their story ends. But in Alonso’s case, it was more than that. In Alonso’s case his love story with Reese Chambers, which he was not happy about me sharing far and wide, was just the beginning of the story. And the more I got to know him, the more surprised I was to find that he and I had a history together that I had known nothing about.
It wasn’t long after the release of the Brit Boys: On Boys Book Bundle that I started an online serial called In The Flesh. It was based on a short story I’d written ages ago that I always felt I wanted to expand upon. Doing so as an online serial for my blog seemed the way to let the story unfold to its true conclusion. Imagine my surprise when the short story I thought might be a novella grew into, not just a novel, but a fairly hefty one. Imagine my even greater surprise when Alonso Darlington and company showed up early in that novel and ended up being major players. Well, knock me over with a feather if Alonso didn’t surprise me again by playing a major role in the sequel to In The Flesh, my present work in progress, Blind-Sided.
The thing about Alonso Darlington is that he’s a vampire with a past I knew nothing about. Actually he’s a vampire from my past, and I certainly knew nothing about that. Though he’s not a character in Stones, one of my very favourite short stories, one I wrote for the wonderful Seducing the Myth anthology edited by Dirty Birdies’s very own Lucy Felthouse, his beginnings are definitely rooted there in Magda Gardener’s tangled derelict garden. The main character in that story, Magda Gardener, is none other than Medusa herself, and who knew that she and Alonso Darlington had a history? Who knew that Alonso owed her big-time? Oh the tangled web we write! Alonso and Reese’s story along with In The Flesh, Blind-Sided and Buried Pleasures – a bigger novel still, have become the beginning three novels of the Medusa’s Consortium series, which you’ll be hearing much more about in the future, I’m sure. Who knew one reclusive vampire could wield such influence? He certainly worked his magic on this writer, and though he might prefer to be left alone in he remote ancestral home, I’m sure I’ll be stalking Alonso and Reese and Talia for at least a few more good stories, and I’m pretty certain Magda Gardener has no intention of leaving the man in peace. Here’s a little snippet from Landscapes.
Alonso Darlington has a disturbing method of keeping landscaper, Reese Chambers, both safe from and oblivious to his dangerous lust for the man. But Reese isn’t easy to keep secrets from, and Alonso wants way more than to admire the man from afar. Can he risk a real relationship without risking Reese’s life?
Buy links: http://kdgrace.co.uk/books/landscapes/
It was nearing dawn when Talia returned to our accommodations smelling of sex, as I knew she would if she were to obtain for me what I wanted. By then my blood burned in my veins, and my body felt too close to me, as though the flesh that I dwelt in suddenly conspired to crush me with its demands. And though I knew that Reese Chambers could not have refused her even if she had come to him as a toothless, foul-smelling hag, I hated her that he had poured himself into her body while I had been left with only my fantasies kindling my lust to an inferno.
Though my need was such that my flesh was fevered and my cock an insistent throb, until she returned, I held myself contained within skin that felt too thin. When she saw the state that I was in, she pulled the heavy drapes with an efficient tug, then with a nod of her head, motioned me to follow her down into the basement room that had been prepared for me. When she turned to me at the foot of the bed, before she could opened her kiss-bruised lips to speak, I took her mouth, starving for the first taste of him, the taste of his saliva, the taste of his blood, mixed with hers. She’d bitten him; he’d bitten her back. He was rough, and he liked to be treated rough, but he kept that to himself. He was embarrassed by it. His lips were slightly chapped from so much time in the sun and wind, and they’d slid against hers, suckling and stroking and pressing until her mouth opened to his. With ravenous laps of my tongue, I tasted him in her mouth, and she held back the moan of response, so I could hear the echoes of his groans, heavy with need he’d not satisfied in awhile, and I felt kinship in my own unsatisfied needs. Images of him flashed through my head. Christ, his eyes were green, dark green like the evergreen forests of the north, and he kept them open when he kissed her, taking her in with his eyes.
I shoved aside the silk of her low bodice exposing her breasts, breasts that his hands had cupped. My nipples peeked to sharp aching points at the feel of his calloused thumbs raking, pressing and releasing. I breathed in his scent on her breasts, burying my face in her cleavage, licking the taste of salty, slightly picante maleness, sniffing and tasting until I could stand it no more. In one violent jerk, I tore the dress all the way down and shoved it off her shoulders, away from the flesh he had licked and kissed and mounted. I cried out at the feel of him, weight on one elbow, knee spreading her thighs, fingers opening her heaviness, anxious to penetrate, anxious to relieve his need. And then, with Talia free of clothing, Reese Chambers’ essence filled the room. Talia’s panties were still wet with his semen mixed with her humid desire, and I tore them from her and forced her onto her stomach, onto her hands and knees, so that it was not her face I saw, but his that I imagined. With hands on her hips, I raised her bottom in the air and spread her still swollen, still slippery folds with fingers made awkward by my arousal, letting the scent of his hot bread and honey release intoxicate me. Then I buried my face in her snatch and, as I ate his lust from her, I knew him.
He was Cumbrian born and bred, and his accent was the soft lilting sound of the fells. He was a landscaper and a gardener by trade. His hands held the magic of the earth and his mind conceived ideas for beautiful outdoor spaces; those he liked best were patterned after Renaissance and medieval gardens. He was homesick and heartsick. He’d gone to Surrey to work with his father because the money was good. But his father had died recently and he had returned home to Cumbria. He didn’t care if he had to work in a pub or muck stables. He wanted to be home. He missed the people and he missed the fells. He missed the simpler, more honest rhythms of life. He was shy, even a bit reclusive. He read voraciously and widely, he liked astronomy and he was afraid of snakes, though it embarrassed him to admit it. He hadn’t had sex in a long time, and found it better to have a wank session than a meaningless encounter. The facts of him, the details of his life raced at me in a flood I consumed ravenously with each lap of my tongue.
As I ate Talia I felt the shape of his face, the curve of his chin, the rise and fall of his chest as he had done the same. I felt the soft tuft of bronze curls nestled between the hard rise of his pecs and the courser, deeper curls that caressed his testicles and his cock when it was at rest, but it hadn’t been at rest. How many times had he taken her? He was thick enough to fill her and the friction of him inside was delicious and maddening. The shape of him – I wanted to caress the shape of him, with my hands, with my mouth, and the taking of his essence from Talia was an act of ripping away something that should have been mine. As I bruised her arse with kneading fingers and, as I licked the last of his release from her, she managed a breathless moan. ‘Take the rest. God, Alonso, take the rest, and release me.’
About K D Grace/Grace Marshall
Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
KD has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace,Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.
Find K D Here:
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