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An Interview with Janine Ashbless (@sinfulpress) #giveaway

Janine Ashbless is visiting with the Birdies today. Welcome, Janine!

  • What inspired you to write The Prison of the Angels?

It’s the third in my Book of the Watchers trilogy, about what happens when a young woman frees a fallen angel from imprisonment. They’re all based on Judeo-Christian angelic mythology. By the time I got round to publishing the second novel, The Prison of the Angels was already clamouring to get free from my head so I just launched straight into it – I had the characters established, I knew the secrets they were hiding and what the stakes were, I knew it had to end with a war between the fallen and loyal angels.

  • Did you get any writers block while writing this story?

No writers’ block, though there were some brief lumpy patches where I was struggling to see the characters’ way out of some situations, and how the logistics of the plot would work. Internal logic is really important to me. I take a long hot shower when that happens, and inspiration strikes eventually.

  • Do you have a favorite place when you write?

Not really – it has to be quiet, with no TV or music audible. I work either at my PC or on my laptop.

  • What do you like to do in your spare time? 

Travel, which I didn’t get to do nearly enough for this book! I went to Montenegro and Ethiopia in order to write the first two books, but for the third – which is set largely in Norway and Rome – I just had to rely on memories and photos of old holidays. And the Internet of course 😉

  • Do you have anything new coming up? 

At the moment I’m concentrating on a house-move, but once that’s done I hope to return to an old series, The Lovers’ Wheel, and complete that. The first two books came out through Ellora’s Cave – which went bust this year – so I’ll have to reprint those and write the last two books.

*****

Excerpt from The Prison of the Angels:

The cold water flashed like white fire over every inch of my skin. It burnt my eyeballs and my lips and the inside of my throat, and beyond the white fire was a darkness so immense that it swallowed me whole.

I fell forever.

Something grabbed my wrist. Something so hot that it boiled away the darkness, so that there was suddenly light flashing in my eyes. I felt myself grabbed up bodily and lifted. I felt heat against my lips, blowing fire into my frozen lungs. I saw the wooden posts of a flight of steps, and then I pitched forward onto hands and knees in the shallow snow, choking up pond-water. In front of my blurred vision an inchoate swirl of darkness poured up the steps onto the lit porch and then disappeared. Unseen, something slammed against the door, a knock that made the house shake.

I was on the ground beneath the back porch of John’s house, I realized, shuddering.

Mama. Oh Mama. The thought seemed to come from nowhere.

Three times the knock sounded, and on the third the door burst open—outward, onto the porch—to reveal Egan in the lit room within; shaven, shirtless, and frozen mid-lunge for what I could only assume was a weapon of some sort.

He stared.

I tried to cry out.

“Milja?”

Grabbing his pistol he ran out barefoot onto the porch and looked around for enemies that were not there. Then he clattered down and pulled me up into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck and he carried me up the steps and over the threshold—not like a bride, but like a child he could hold tight against his torso, his wrists locked under my thighs. His skin blazed against mine. He hefted me into the kitchen and propped my ass on the table in front of the range.

“What the hell?” he demanded in a low fierce voice, sweeping locks of sodden hair back from my face. My hat seemed to have disappeared. “What happened, Milja? What were you doing out there?”

“Ice. I fell in the lake.” My jaw chattered. It was obvious I was telling the truth—I was soaked from head to toe, and after clasping me so close he wasn’t much drier himself.

“Feckssake, woman!” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking of?” He shucked off my coat, which lifted a sodden ton from my shoulders, then stooped to pull my boots off; ice-water spilt all over the floor.

I tried to strip off my gloves but my fingers weren’t capable of gripping anything.

“Come here, come here,” he said softly from where he knelt at my feet, grabbing my wrists and peeling away the useless gloves. He pressed my hands on either side of his warm neck, holding them there. They must have felt like ice-blocks to him, but he didn’t wince.

He looked like a knight kneeling before his queen, I thought. I could feel his pulse.

“I’ll go get towels, Milja. Are you going to be okay a sec?”

I nodded, though he probably couldn’t see it through the shuddering. He rose and hurried off, leaving me with the radiant warmth of the stove. I thought I should probably get the rest of my clothes off, but even after I struggled with my fly zipper my jeans seemed determined to cling to my bum-cheeks.

I heard the back door bang shut and I flinched.

Azazel?

Had he been gathering himself to come get Egan? Was he the one who had saved me from the black waters? Where was he now?

Egan came back in carrying armfuls of towels. “Alright?”

“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling through my shudders. He was still shirtless, and I could see the faint Ethiopian scars on his arm and chest.

He wrapped my hands one at a time in a towel, chaffed them dry, and then set them deliberately against the hard, hot wall of his torso.

Oh God.

Then he slipped all the buttons on my thick flannel shirt—the one I’d chosen this morning precisely because it wasn’t provocative or distracting—and he only slowed when he realized I was wearing just a bra-top underneath. My nipples stood in shamefully hard points under the stretch cotton. I tried to wriggle out of the long tartan sleeves of my shirt on my own, to spare his blushes, but everything clung like a freezing cold second skin and he had to help.

The shallow slash on my forearm wasn’t bleeding anymore, but each brush of his fingers felt like hot coals.

My wet garment made a slap as it struck the floor.

He draped a towel around my shoulders and another over my head. He started rubbing the water from my face and hair and scalp, his movements precise and gentle. For long moments I was buried in a soft darkness. I reached out, blind, to put my hands back on his bare ribs. I could feel his heart pounding beneath them, like a beast pacing a cage.

I have no idea when it all changed for him. When his grueling self-denial simply fell apart, like a garment worn and washed until the fabric was weakened beyond all use. All I knew was that he dropped the towel off my damp head, cupped my face in both his hands and—absolutely without warning—kissed me.

*****

Blurb:

Milja Petak’s world has fallen apart.

Her lover, the fallen angel Azazel, has cast her aside in rage and disgust. The other contender for her heart, the Catholic priest Egan Kansky, was surrendered back into the hands of the shadowy Vatican organization, Vidimus, after sustaining life-threatening injuries.

She has killed and she has betrayed. She is alone, homeless, and at the end of her tether – torn apart by guilt and the love she has lost.

But neither Heaven nor its terrifying representatives on Earth have finished with Milja.

Both her lovers need her in order to further their very different plans, and both passionately need her, though they may try to deny it.

Milja is once again forced into a series of choices as she uncovers the secrets Heaven has been guarding for centuries. But this time it is not just her heart at stake, or even the fate of a fallen angel.

This time, the choices she makes will change everything.

This time it’s the End of the World.

The Prison of the Angels is the third in the acclaimed Book of the Watchers trilogy, following on from Cover Him with Darkness, and In Bonds of the Earth.

Buy links:

Amazon

Kobo

iTunes

Google Play

Barnes and Noble

*****

Author bio:

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try “Cover Him with Darkness,” “Heart of Flame,” or “The King’s Viper.” If you prefer challenging erotica, go for “Red Grow the Roses” or “Named and Shamed” instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

Her work has been described as:

“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa)

Author Links:

Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/

Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless

Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/janine-ashbless-4/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Guest Blogger: Miss Blue Hair by Ellie Barker (@sinfulpress)

I like my sex mixed. Shaken, not stirred; although possibly stirred is better when it comes to stories, because shaken tends to be a bit too dramatic for my liking – give me orgasmic climaxes over explosions any day! But the point is that I prefer things a little off the beaten track; down the darker path, as it were, or just the path less trodden. A different mixture of potion ingredients to make the cocktail a bit more unusual.

I do write erotica, but I like my sex mixed with something else. Another genre, maybe. Another gender. And in the case of Miss Blue Hair, I got both.

Sky herself came from a simple phrase; “Why not?” Why couldn’t I write a transgender character with bright blue hair, a snarky wit and a rock-hard cock? And Nikolas came from a friend; a swagger, a cheeky smile, and an arrogance bordering on the cocky (pun definitely intended). Nikolas himself has mellowed a little, of course, because I have a soft spot for him – but he has retained a lot of the swagger, and all the accompanying sexual charm that goes with it. And when he met Sky…well, they hit it off.

But they needed some context. Some excitement. Some reasons.

And Sky’s good at stealing more than just hearts.

So she became a thief, and Nikolas became mixed up in a world that he’s a little too familiar with.

The thriller genre is a lot of fun to write in – thriller, noir, crime, it’s all got a heady mix of gangs and underworld criminals, daring thefts and seedy bars. It’s a world that someone who wants to be themselves and someone who’s hiding their true self both fit into just fine. And it means that I can season my romance with crime, my erotica with noir, my passion with a darker edge; and it swirls nicely into the mixture, steaming hot and just ready to be tasted.

*****

Excerpt from “Miss Blue Hair”

Sinful Pleasures

“And don’t think,” I added, feeling my lips move against her skin, “of lying.”

“But if I lie,” Sky’s breathy voice said from somewhere by my ear, “you’d just have to get the truth out of me, wouldn’t you?”

“How would I do that?” I let my teeth enclose a bite of skin, with enough pressure to tell her that I could make a mark if I wanted to.

“You don’t know how to?”

My teeth did leave a mark, white on her dark skin, and she groaned. I felt one of her hands come around my back and the other trail up my leg, towards my now-stiffening cock.

“But the problem with this,” I said, and left another mark on her neck, “is that you like it.”

“If you’re nice to me—” Another groan as my teeth bit in again. “Maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”

I trailed my tongue down her neck, keeping my hand entwined in her hair. Her hands were now doing interesting things to my shoulders and back. “How nice would I have to be?” I asked when I’d finished with that patch of skin.

“Very.”

With one movement I pulled her onto my lap, one hand still wound in her hair and her buttocks lying across my thighs. And I brought my free hand down sharply.

Sky groaned, and I felt her cock twitch against my leg. “That’s not nice.”

“No.” I punctuated the word with another slap. “It’s not.” Another slap.

She was gasping and I felt her thrust her hips against me as I spanked her again. She wasn’t even trying to fight; one hand was wound under my legs and the other pushed against my calf, and she was almost rock-hard now. I was, too; the way she moved on my lap was infuriating.

I spanked her until she was moaning under me, begging me to stop and please just fuck her again. But I slid my hand across her burning skin and smiled as she panted. “You were going to tell me some secrets.”

*****

Sinful PleasuresBlurb

Sinful Press welcomes you to lose yourself in Sinful Pleasures.

Join us as we weave our way from mainstream erotic romance to surreal sex-filled dreamscapes and everything in between, created by some of the best new and established voices in the erotica genre.

Janine Ashbless, Ella Scandal, Sonni de Soto, Jo Henny Wolf, Lily Harlem, Lady Divine, Gail Williams, Samantha MacLeod, Tony Fyler, Ellie Barker, Lisa McCarthy

Buy links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

Google Play

iTunes

Support your small publisher and buy the paperback direct

*****

Author Bio

Ellie Barker writes short’n’dirty flash fiction and short erotic fiction in any genre going. She prefers vampires over werewolves, and is always hot for a rainy night. Find out more at www.elliebarker.co.uk.

The Craziest Month of my Life – Guest Post by SJ Smith (@sjsmithauthor @sinfulpress)

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It’s been one hell of a June. In the past thirty days my wife has left me, I’ve had two novels published, Britain has voted to quit the EU, Wales has made the quarter-finals of Euro 2016 and I’ve made the acquaintance of a Parisian lady who will become my new lodger. And all of this against a background of insomnia, bruxism and a heady mix of depression, elation, bitterness and fury.

But hey! It’s the books I’m supposed to be here to tell you about, so I won’t bore you any longer with my whinging and we’ll get straight down to business.

June 24th saw the release of Leisure, an erotic comedy, packed with my usual stupidity and perversion. It tells the story of a young woman named Alice, who begins a new job in a sports centre where, left to their own devices for far too long, the staff team have entirely lost touch with reality. Alice gradually becomes drawn into the madness and embarks on an escapade full of filthy sex, mystical quests, naked nuns and eye-wateringly large penises.

Although it’s an essentially silly story, Leisure does have a serious message lurking at its core, about how we all put on different faces while we’re in the workplace; how we choose which parts of ourselves we reveal and which parts we hide. I deliberately framed the book in five parts, Monday to Friday, nine ‘til five, with little in the way of back-story or external reference, so the reader would only see the characters as they behave at work.

The publication of Leisure took a long time; probably three years between first draft and final release, owing largely to a series of mishaps including lost emails and forgetful publishers. But I’ve learned a lot during that period; I’ve developed my abilities to edit and construct paragraphs and to embrace my own style rather than attempt to imitate that of others, and so it’s definitely been a valuable experience.

On then to the end of June and my third novel The House of Fox hits the shelves. This is the book which will – fingers crossed – mark the beginning of the next stage of my career as a writer, in that I might finally earn a bit of cash out of it. House of Fox is, I believe, my best work to date. I threw myself entirely into its creation, letting my imagination run riot and pulling out all the stops to ensure it is exactly the kind of novel I always wanted to write.

The House of Fox is about four friends who find themselves trapped in a vast, supernatural brothel, where every kind of perversion and fetish is played out and every lurid fantasy comes true. I like to think of it as a sort of pornographic version of Dungeons and Dragons.

Anything goes inside the House of Fox, and so anything goes as far as the narrative is concerned. With no idea of a plot in mind, I improvised the first half of the book, making up the most crazy scenarios and mashing them together. With no rules to follow I could go off in any direction I fancied; car chases, gun battles, song and dance routines, it all went in. Writing this story was fun.

Right now I’m supposed to be working on a sequel to House of Fox, which is currently going under the title ‘The Girl with the Golden Vag’, but given the frenetic pace of the past few weeks and everything that’s been going on, I’ve barely had the time to sit down. Hopefully I’ll manage to get my head together and get cracking fairly soon.

*****

HOF quote 1

The House of Fox excerpt:

“God, look at the pair of them. They’re so fucking boring.”

Kitty was watching the live feed from the video camera; grainy, blue tinged footage on a fat backed TV.

“Like, any sane woman would’ve been bouncing on Dylan’s cock the minute she stepped through the door. But oh no, not little miss goody two shoes Donna; she’d never lower herself into doing anything quite so lowbrow.”

Jane, who was standing behind, massaging Kitty’s shoulders, nodded in full agreement.

“You know what? I’ll take great pleasure in throwing her to the flames. It’s no more than the dismal bitch deserves.” Kitty grabbed the clipboard and updated the dossier, scrawling nothing happening in the relevant box. “And here’s me damn fool enough to think pulling watch duty on that pair might prove fun.”

“Things may hot up… eventually,” Jane offered.

“Are you kidding? That bitch is so frigid she could raise penguins in her asshole.” Kitty swivelled around in her office chair and trapped Jane’s legs between her knees. “Fuck ‘em. Let’s get back to the game. Now remind me, honey pie, what was the score again?”

“Four all.” Jane shook her head, gutted at having squandered a four-nil lead.

“Then it’s time for the big decider.” Kitty’s beaming smile lit up Jane’s world. “What do you think? The loser has to do the next five hours’ watch?”

“Let’s do it.” Jane strutted up to the mound, confident she could pull this off.

Kitty sat back in her chair and spread her legs wide, hanging her knees over either armrest. She licked her fingertip, parted her pussy lips and pushed three ping-pong balls up her cunt. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Jane nodded. She steeled herself in preparation, and tightened her grip on the spank paddle.

Kitty pulled a face and thrust her hips, and a ping-pong ball flew clean out of her quim at high velocity and came arcing across the office. Jane swung the paddle, but missed by six inches. The ball sailed by and bounced off the coffee machine.

“Strike one,” Kitty yelled.

“Goddamnit.” Jane rolled out her shoulders to loosen them, and adopted the stance once again. “Ready.”

A second ping-pong ball flew from between Kitty’s love lips, this time on a much lower trajectory. Jane swung and caught the ball a glancing blow off the rim of the paddle, sending it straight downwards, where it ricocheted off the floor and bounced several times before dribbling to a pathetic stop between her feet.

“Strike two,” Kitty yelled. “The game now rests on this one final delivery. Will she step up to be a hero or will she fold under the pressure?”

“This time.” Jane was focussed now. She took a few practice swings before crouching sideways on. “Ready.”  She would not miss – she knew it.

The third ball, glistening with pussy juice, came spinning toward her, and she saw its flightpath almost in slow motion. She swung the paddle, catching the ball flush in the face, and sent it hurtling out through the open door into the corridor. “Home run,” she squealed, and danced a celebratory jig. “I win, I win.”

“Pah, you got lucky,” Kitty sneered.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I won thanks to my natural ability at the game.”

The game – which they had been playing for the best part of two days – was called either Pussy Ping-Pong or Beaver Baseball; they still hadn’t made a final decision as to which they liked better. It had superseded ‘What’s the most unusual thing you can shove up your ass?’ which Kitty had won by successfully ramming a signed, first edition of Oliver Twist into her brown eye.

HOF quote 2

*****

2016-291 eBook The House of Fox 6x9The House of Fox blurb:

After a drunken night on the town, four friends awake to find themselves in the House of Fox, the ultimate brothel in the universe, where every sordid fantasy becomes reality.

But all is not as it seems.

The House of Fox harbours many dark secrets, and factions are plotting against one another.

The four newcomers must choose their friends carefully and take care not to lose their minds on the thrill ride of perversion that will carry them to the ends of the Earth and beyond.

The Great Voyeur in the Sky is watching . . .

Buy from:

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/House-Fox-SJ-Smith-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/House-Fox-Sinful-Comedies-Book-ebook/dp/B01GF44M0S

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-house-of-fox-sj-smith/1123824728?ean=9781910908044

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-house-of-fox/id1126014781?mt=11

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-house-of-fox

*****

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Author bio:

SJ Smith is a neurotic recluse who lives in North Wales. It has long been his dream to become a full time filth monger.

Links:

Twitter: @sjsmithauthor

Blog: http://sjsmithrants.blogspot.co.uk

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SJSmithWriter/

Publisher: @SinfulPress

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/sj-smith/

a Rafflecopter giveaway