“Out of the Darkness”, the new book by Juliette Banks

“Out of the Darkness”, an erotic romance by Juliette Banks, has just been published by Blushing Books.

This book was previously published with the same title but a different cover, under the author name of Rachel de Vine.

I’ve read and enjoyed two other books by this author, “The Artist” and “The Russian Bride”. I’ve already purchased this one and will post reviews as soon as I’ve read it.

Buy links:

Amazon US : http://www.amazon.com/dp/B074W9S9SF

Amazon UK : www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B074W9S9SF

Out of the Darkness Cover 3“A man could go to war in defence of a body like yours, you know. You hold most men in the palm of your hand.”

The missing father; the predatory stepfather; the abusive lover; they all let her down.

She is one of the most beautiful and photographed women in the world.

She lives the life many young girls dream about.

But sometimes the dream and the reality don’t match up.

William, a powerful and charismatic Dom, who excites her like no other man before, steps into her life.

Will he be different from the others?

Will he recognize her need for loving submission?

“I can’t keep traipsing three miles every time I want to spank that delectable little behind of yours.”


First excerpt…

I’m not sure that even I know the real me. My life had changed so often since I’d been ‘discovered’ at the tender age of fifteen, while walking down the King’s Road in Chelsea, and within two years I was pictured on the covers of all the glossy magazines. It all happened so quickly. One day I was a fairly ordinary London schoolgirl, and the next I was travelling the world and being wined and dined by the world’s glitterati. Then there were the men. Mostly, they were older, successful and wealthy men who bought me champagne and dinner and then thought they owned me. Some of them were very powerful, men you would not want to cross for fear of the consequences. A few were kind, but many were not. I sometimes wondered if the fault lay with me. Did I do or say things to attract the wrong type of man? Did I give off the wrong vibes, or was I simply unlucky? I had no idea.

The working life of most models is quite short; youth and beauty being such transient states. Make the most of it, was the advice I often received, especially by older models who knew that there were always younger and prettier women to take their place. Many of the girls, if they didn’t make it right to the top where the serious money was made, adopted the other route of marrying wealthy men. It wasn’t always a guaranteed success. I knew of several older models who had given up the catwalk and married such men, some of whom turned out to be serial philanderers. They became second or third wives, and probably realised with a sinking heart that they were destined eventually to be replaced, as their predecessors had been.

I had a few love affairs, but I had never fallen in love. I saw most for what they were, men who viewed a beautiful woman as another symbol of their success, like expensive sports cars, yachts, and luxury villas. I tried to stay away from that sort of man, but I wasn’t always clever enough to spot the ones who should be avoided at all costs. They didn’t all look like Russian gangsters.

“Oh I work hard, but I play hard, too. Do you play hard, Marianne?”

I want to see you (Twitter 1)

Second excerpt…

The man who introduced me to the ‘darker arts,’ as I often referred to them, was Leon, a French multi-millionaire who invited me for dinner, which turned out to be on his yacht in the Mediterranean. He sent his private jet to transport me from London to St Tropez.

“Isn’t this rather a long way to go for dinner?” I asked, telling him that I had a fashion shoot in Paris the following day.

“Not at all, ma chère. I will fly you down tomorrow at mid-day. We can have dinner on the yacht and you can stay overnight. In the morning I’ll have my plane fly you to Paris. I’ll n’y a pas de problème.”

Leon had a very slight air of menace to him, even though he was handsome beyond words, and I hesitated briefly. He leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips and, in a moment of insanity I accepted his invitation.

The yacht was enormous and very luxurious. He had a chef cook us a magnificent dinner and serve it on the private deck that lay outside his personal quarters where, he informed me, only very special people are invited. It was obvious that the price of dinner was to be sex, but it was to be of a type I had never encountered before, even if other men had hinted at it from time to time.

We drank champagne and the heady mix of that, together with the velvety Mediterranean night air and the gentle rocking of the boat, made me lower my defences. When he stood and took my hand and led me into his cabin, I offered no resistance at all.

I was wearing just a simple, silk shift, with spaghetti straps and a thong. It took a second for Leon’s practised hands to remove my dress, which fluttered down around my feet. He bent and kissed my breasts and ran his hands over my bottom.

“You are so beautiful. Do you understand how you make men wild with lust when they see you?” He didn’t seem to expect an answer to his question.

Was it to be pleasure or pain this time, or perhaps a combination of both, given in the way that only he can?

 Books from Rachel de Vine_Juliette Banks


I asked Juliette to tell us a bit about herself…

I write erotic romance as both Juliette Banks and Rachel de Vine, and love to write about sensual, romantic and erotic characters who lead interesting lives, and who often have to overcome challenges along the way. I prefer to write erotic romance, rather than straight erotica, because I am essentially a romantic person, but I also like to involve my characters in an exciting life of dominance and submission at different levels.

I am British, love the rural life and live in a beautiful home in the middle of the rolling English countryside. I also like to travel around the world from time to time, and have visited some beautiful and exciting places on the way. I am forever grateful that I was born in a place and at a time to take advantage of the freedoms and pleasures that are still denied to many people of the world. We must never take such freedom for granted.

Contact details:

Amazon Author Page                            http://amzn.to/2vNL39e

You Tube Channel                                   http://bit.ly/2v2oHUe

Facebook page                                          http://bit.ly/2u33KUE

Twitter                                                        http://bit.ly/2tHub2v

All Author                                                   http://bit.ly/2vczFXJ

Website                                                       http://bit.ly/2vc12B5









Sinful Pleasures could soon be yours to enjoy…

Okay, a deliberately cheeky title!

I’m sharing some advance publicity for an anthology called Sinful Pleasures, which is available for pre-order. The release date will be 20th August 2017.

I was immediately struck by the strong cover image, and am now rather intrigued by the idea of trying out some variations on that idea myself as a photographic project.

I enjoy reading anthologies, as the stories are all varied and I can sample the work of “new to me” writers. And this one includes stories by two writers whose work I’ve already enjoyed.

The invitation to share this publicity on my blog was accompanied by the offer of a copy to review. I took them up on this, even though I’d have happily purchased a copy, on the agreement that I’d post an honest personal review, which follows…

With this anthology, Sinful Press have drawn together eleven quite varied stories of different lengths, all engaging, erotic and imaginative. The stories include some which are plausibly real-life, one which hints at being a horror story, and another which is almost paranormal.

I always find it difficult reviewing anthologies, because it seems unfair for me to pick out my favourite story. I know fully well that it’s my personal choice, and others would say another is their favourite. And I think they’re all good. But “The Pier By Night” by Janine Ashbless was the one which struck me most, at several levels.

A five-star read as far as I’m concerned.

Sinful Pleasures: An Anthology of Erotic Tales by Sinful Press (@sinfulpress)


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, and Lisa McCarthy.





Excerpt from On The Line by Sonni de Soto

If he wanted to call her, he could call her.

He didn’t have to wait for her.

Decisively, he reached for his phone and began to dial.

She answered on the first ring. “Twenty minutes past nine.” Danielle tsked. “I always wondered how long it would take for you to call me.” Even over the phone, he could practically hear her shrug. “Twenty minutes sounds about right.”

“So this was a test?” He raised an eyebrow, not sure he liked the idea of that.

“Not a test, per se.” Her throaty voice was a soothing purr that, despite his efforts, did calm his irritation. Which was kind of irritating in and of itself. “More of an experiment. To shake things up a bit.”

“Shake things up how?” He harrumphed back against his headboard.

“We’re in a rut, Christopher.” She sighed with an audible shake of her head. “We’ve got to Columbus our way out of this.”

A rut? They were in a rut? Chris frowned and adjusted his glasses. He supposed that, sure, they’d both been a little tired lately. A little overworked and stressed. But a rut? “How are we supposed to do that?”

“Close your eyes,” she urged into the phone.

He huffed a bit, pouting, but did as she asked. It was, after all, a simple request. “Okay.”

“Imagine us,” her voice whispered in his ear. “Imagine us in your room. On your bed.”

Chris let out a sigh and tried. His mind focused, picturing her painted and so-mobile mouth forming her words. He thought about her tongue, slick and sly, as it slid across those lips, leaving a sheen in its wake. Chris let his mind remember the taste of her kiss, an utterly illogical mix of heated want and cool mint.

He imagined the familiar flush that always swept over her cheeks right before he took her mouth, that visible sign of her excitement that never failed to fuel his own. He knew that a blush like that could travel down her neck, her shoulder, her spine in a tickled shiver with the simplest touch.

And then there, in his room, on his bed, in his mind, like magic, she was laid seductive and stretched-out before him. He imagined the dark fall of curls that clouded around her face and shoulders, framing bared, bronzed skin perfectly.

His hands itched to grab the curves of her body. The swell of her sweeping hips. The pointed tips of her delectable breasts. The length of her long legs. The soft spread of sun-ripened skin, that always held the sweet scent of citrus, over the generous lushness of her body.

He could hear his own breath rasp as his mind transported her from her dorm room to the foot of his bed.

“Good,” he heard her coo in his ear. “Now that you have me there, whatever will you do with me?” Her mockingly naïve tone left him feeling provoked and promised.


Sinful Pleasures will be available through all main online bookstores in print and digital on the 20th of August.

Pre-order links:

Amazon: http://smarturl.it/SPebookAmazon

iTunes: http://smarturl.it/SPiBooks

Google Play: http://smarturl.it/SPGoogle

Barnes and Noble: http://smarturl.it/SPBandN

Kobo: http://smarturl.it/SPKobo

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35452279-sinful-pleasures


Pre-order blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Today’s post is to help Monique Roffey with a blog tour to publicise her new book, The Tryst, an adult psychological thriller.

Tryst cover

London, midsummer night. Jane and Bill meet the mysterious Lilah in a bar. She entrances the couple with half-true, mixed up tales about her life. At closing time, Jane makes an impulsive decision to invite Lilah back to their home. But Jane has made a catastrophic error of judgment, for Lilah is a skilled and ruthless predator, the likes of which few encounter in a lifetime. Isolated and cursed, Jane and Bill are forced to fight for each other, and, in doing so, discover their covert desires.

Part psychological thriller, part contemporary magical realism, The Tryst revisits the tale of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, to examine the secrets of an everyday marriage.


Praise for The Tryst

“What makes The Tryst an unexploded virus isn’t just the quality and brightness of Roffey’s writing on sex, even as it uncovers inner glades between flesh and fantasy where sex resides – but the taunting clarity of why those glades stay covered. A throbbing homewrecker of a tale, too late to call Fifty Shades of Red.”

DBC Pierre, Booker Prize winner.

Intriguing blurb, Monique. Would you like to tell us a bit more about the book?

Most of us have heard of Adam and Eve. Not that many of us have heard of Adam and Lilith. There was a first ‘wife’ prototype before Eve and her name was Lilith. In Hebrew, her name translates as night-hag, night-monster or screech owl. In fact, she has many names. None of them are nice, let alone innocent. Tales of Lilith, can be found in the Zohar, the foundation text of the Kabbalah, the book of Jewish mystical lore. She appears in the Bible too, in the book of Isaiah. Briefly, the story goes, God made a first wife for Adam, made of the same dirt. But this first wife was surly and insubordinate and refused to lie down under Adam in the sex act, and so was considered faulty. It was said she was made from ‘impure sediment’ and so she was banished to the desert forever. However, there she lived and thrived, making more and more children, all demonic. In Jewish lore, she never died or went away; she lived on, both as the archetype of the divine whore and terrible mother as well as in reality, for her children survived, multiplied and are with us still, all demons known as shedim.  They kill children, drain the semen of men in their sleep, they harm animals, conduct orgies and generally cause havoc.  In orthodox Jewish families it is common to hang amulets to guard against Lilatha in maternity rooms to protect infants against this monster, our first mother, Lilith.

You can’t help but like this feisty domme, no? Our first mother was an upstart, a rogue, a wild thing, a seductress. She didn’t die, no. She’s immortal, and she is amongst us, legend has it; and she is a killer. One of her many names is ‘strangler’. She has been portrayed as a winged cow, a predatory night owl, a witch, a storm, a succubus. She steals children, lures men to their death and is generally a nightmare on wings.

In my new novel, The Tryst we meet Lilah, a brazen impish redhead woman who appears from nowhere, one night, when Bill and Jane meet a friend in a bar. Even though Lilah has very odd, pointy ears, they don’t guess who she may be, that she’s a descendant of Lilith, our dark motherage. Who could guess? We moderns are long divorced from the ancient texts. In the novel, Bill and Jane mistake her for a casual swinger, and under-estimate her completely. Jane invites her home, a big mistake, because Lilah is a seasoned hunter, planning to do no good. In my novel, she devastates this innocent couple. She fulfills Jane’s fickle plan. She seduces Bill and invites Jane to watch. She is the divine whore and also a wicked sprite. She devastates and also heals, and in the process she learns a thing or two about love in the human realm. Lilah is in turn devastated, cast out again, this time with a lovesick heart. The Tryst is a love triangle. In it, all three characters are out of balance; all three suffer, and all three grow and learn. All three under-estimate each other. Lilah, a descendant of our great divine whore of a mother is a change agent, a chaos magician, but she also meets her comeuppance. Bill, a human lover who can meet her, opens her heart to love.


Here’s an extract 


Miss Unfucked reappeared with pints of beer for the men and looked quite rightly startled to see me in their midst. No one explained me properly; I intimated that I knew the dark-haired man. Funny how the English cannot be plain speaking, ask questions. Fishy, awkward, difficult things can happen but they pass by undiscussed; the English are too polite or perhaps too innocent to think the worst. I always took advantage of this to operate. The dumb stupid Queen-ass-kissing prudes. Miss Polo Neck coughed and the men bucked up and I introduced myself, a name I give sometimes: Lilah, I said. Of course, I lay claim to many others. Lilah Hopkins from the Deep South.

I was in control of them then, spinning some crazy outlandish story they gulped down, talking my best deep slurred Southern drawl. Our language has a similar cadence, butter-soft, and we like to use rich sexual words and curse like heathens, so I can easily pass this particular identity off. I told my favourite off-the-peg story, that I was adopted, had been found in a basket on the steps of a church, that my adopted mother had been married five times, that I was a Baptist. They nodded and found this story interesting. Holy God on earth! If I’d told them the Goddamn truth they would have swallowed that whole too, all po-faced and serious, nodding thoughtfully. I could have told them who I really was then and there; they were so nice, so courteous.

Imagine it:

Miss Polo Neck, I have climbed out from between your legs.

I am crafted from impure sediment. I am the thing that is bothering you. I have many names.




Screech owl




Queen of Windows

Thrower of Orgies


I am your pest, your very own, come forth from all your anxieties, your half-slept nights. From your dream trysts, from where you’d like to be. Oh, yes, I know about them, how you like to indulge yourself, press your hand between your legs and rub. I am from the dark recess of your other life, the life of your unspent lust. I know a thing or two about restlessness. Oh, yes. I am the one who fled. I left my own marriage bed. You don’t live as you wish to. You do not love your husband in the way he wants to be loved.

I am your very own thorn.
I am your itch.
 Open your legs wider, Miss Unfulfilled.

Instead, I wriggled on my chair and flashed my smooth underarms, and flashed a hint of cunt. I kept up my stories about Alabama.

But Miss Holy Tits fell back, removed herself from the conversation; wisely, she didn’t try to compete. She sipped her wine and watched and listened, and I began to grow suspicious. Only she, as women do, noticed my ears, studied them with interest, as she should have, for they are remarkable in the human realm. I never tried to hide my ears. She noticed the charm I was sculpting too, with the peanuts. I know she also found me sexy, all do. I am a spectacle, a work of art, a creature most humans never see in their lifetime. Some half-guess but never trust their intuition, what they plainly see, which is why I often showed off my attributes, my pretty pointy ears. No one ever thought me real or true and so I got away with it. Miss Charity Fuck sipped and stared and guessed half-right, but in the end I don’t read minds and was truly surprised by what she did next.

Bill flirted with me and she freakin’ watched. She didn’t put up a fight, despite her unhappy pussy, didn’t snatch him up possessively, which can happen, suggest they go home, take him away from me; she didn’t condescend to me outright. No, to my utter amusement, the little prig was also playing a game. And then Sebastian’s mobile phone erupted, a relief. He was slobbering over me. He walked away to take the call and then Miss Polo Neck did what no woman had ever done before. Giving me a tight, forced smile she excused herself, leaving me alone with her husband.

Lord, oh Lordy-Lord. Did I ever give the husband a fright. What a sensitive type, this tree of a man. I wanted to have him there and then, put my hand on his crotch, hold him secure in my soft, skilled hands and smile while he stiffened up. I wanted to drop to my knees and bury his cock in my mouth. The females of my race have all been schooled from an early age in the art of Eros. My people have consorted with the tantrikas of India, the mystic Sufis of the Middle East, the Daoists of China, the great witches and sexual magicians of Europe, and we have learnt the art of giving pleasure. We have perfected our own sexual magick. Poor Bill. Little Miss Chastity Belt had abandoned him.

To me.

Lightly, I touched my breast.
 Bill froze and stared.
He seemed mortified, longing to gaze at me, trying not to. He couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t say anything either; he was shocked and stunned and afraid of me. I smiled as I continued to caress myself, pretending nothing unusual was happening, acted all breezy and happy and all the while I unleashed the force of my nature.

The bar faded.



_MG_8817Monique Roffey is an award-winning Trinidadian-born writer. Her novels have been translated into five languages and short-listed for major awards including
the Orange Prize, Costa Fiction Award, Encore Award, Orion Award and the OCM Bocas Award for Caribbean Literature. In 2013, Archipelago won the OCM BOCAS Award for Caribbean Literature. Her memoir, With the Kisses of his Mouth, was published in 2011. She is a Lecturer on the MFA in the Novel at Manchester Metropolitan University. She divides her time between the East end of London and Port of Spain, Trinidad.


Buy at Amazon:

UK: http://amzn.to/2snABX2 US: https://www.amazon.com/Tryst-Monique-Roffey-ebook/dp/B072BX51PV/

Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esSTfsbP3P4&sns=em

Twitter: @MoniqueRoffey13

Facebook: @MoniqueRoffeyAuthor

Instagram: @MoniqueRoffey

Website: www.moniqueroffey.com


Review time!

I try to post constructive and honest reviews of everything I read, usually on the Amazon UK and US sites, and on Goodreads.

As an author myself, I know how much a review means. Knowing someone read and enjoyed my story is always incredibly encouraging. And seeing reviews might tempt more people into reading it.

So, from time to time, I’ll share some of my recent reviews in a post here. Just like this one! I’ve included Amazon links, in case you’re curious to read the blurb and any reviews other readers have posted.



Mistress of the Air

Mistress Of The Air by S Nano

Four stars – A fun, light-hearted BDSM romp.

This is a fun book, combining steam-punk, BDSM, an over-the-top posh British lady, an upright aviator and a cast of other characters.

It’s a good book for dipping into, as there are a number of incidents (typically involving mayhem and a nice cup of tea) with, er, imaginative BDSM scenes as the airship travels from one location to another. Nothing heavy, nothing too dramatic, nothing literary – a fun easy read.

Amazon US – amazon.com/dp/B06Y6GVGYF (for the UK, just type co.uk instead of com)


Jizziebelle: Belle of the Burlesque (Hardwood's Harlots Burlesque Romance Book 1) by [Crimson, Kat]Jizziebelle: Belle of the Burlesque (Hardwood’s Harlots Burlesque Romance Book 1) by Kat Crimson

Four stars – Well-written story with superheated steam

Found this to be an entertaining and very engagingly-written story. By taking a courageous leap in the dark and performing a saucy burlesque dance, Jocelyn overcomes her anxities and social phobias. Among the other performers, she finds a supportive community in which she can grow. Then she meets an attractive and intriguing man who has read her erotic fantasy writing. They make an instant connection and things get really, really steamy as they explore fantasies and red-hot sex. Jocelyn, self-aware and introspective, is an interesting character, and her narrative worked well for me.

Amazon US – amazon.com/dp/B01CV11842


Taking Care Of Leah by [Howard, Charlotte]Taking Care of Leah by Charlotte Howard

Four stars – Nicely written erotic romance

I was rather impressed with this story. It’s fairly short, well-paced, and nicely balances the ratio of “story development” to “very steamy” scenes. And the steamy scenes are super-heated!

Both lead characters came across as realistic, having pasts they’re not totally proud of, nor keen to share with a new potential partner. And this causes some tensions as things pop out of the woodwork and have to be confronted.

I liked the real-life developing intimate relationship, where Ty is keen to encourage Leah into BDSM, and she’s curious to try it. The need to develop trust, respect and care is nicely woven into the storyline.

Amazon US – amazon.com/dp/B01F575P9S

Highland Pursuits

blurb Emmanuelle de Maupassant Highland Pursuits quote copy 3

Emmanuelle de Maupassant recently launched her saucy 1920s romance romp: ‘Highland Pursuits’. To celebrate, she’s offering a free copy for your Kindle – but only for a few days, from 22-25th May. Don’t miss out.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

There’s also a signed paperback of ‘Highland Pursuits’ up for grabs – do drop your name in the hat here.

smile quote Emmanuelle de Maupassant Highland Pursuits quote copy 4 1920s debutante Lady Ophelia Finchingfield is banished to wildest Scotland to come to her senses, having refused a proposal from the Earl of Woldershire. In the care of her eccentric grandmother, Ophelia is soon caught between rugged widower Hamish and the villainous Comte de Montefiore.

She’s ready to play with fire, but will she burn more than her fingers?

What readers are saying:

I can’t tell you how much I love this book. It was a true delight to read. The author has captured 1920s Britain wonderfully, and her detail is exquisite. – Rachel De Vine

As a comedy of manners, this is exceptionally well done. – Fionna Guillaume

Highland Pursuits is a wry, clever, incredibly sexy romp… a completely engrossing, utterly enjoyable read. I can’t recommend it highly enough…fabulously fun – Malin James

The scene was set beautifully… I felt like I went back in time to high society Scotland – Christine of Sweet and Spicy Reads

Find ‘Highland Pursuits’ on Goodreads and for sale on Amazon

small size Highland Pursuits coverPssst…  if you enjoy Highland Pursuits, please don’t forget to leave a review. Reviews make books more visible online and bring them to the attention of other potential readers. If you’re on Twitter or Facebook, tag Emmanuelle in your review post and she’ll say hello.

I’ve already treated myself to a copy and it’s on my kindle, nagging me to read it soon! I’ll post reviews as soon as I have.

Social Media Links

You can explore Emmanuelle’s website here, find her on Twitter here and on Facebook here. You can sign up for Emmanuelle’s newsletter here … for exclusive giveaways and goodies!

Mistress of the Air?

When I first heard this blog tour request, I jumped. I reckon it’s a cracking title, one which conjours in my mind a tongue-in-cheek erotic steampunk story…

Either I’m good at guessing or my mind only has one track. Probably the latter. A deeply trodden track. Anyway, I’ve bought this book and am currently enjoying it. I’ll post a review when I’ve finished.

Mistress of the Air is the latest story by S Nano, who I’m delighted to have as my guest today.

Congratulations on your new book being published. Can tell us anything about how the idea for this story came to you?

My Edwardian dominatrix, Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester, is a character who’s been around a few years and I’d already written short stories featuring her. She’s an over the top, comic character and great fun to write so I’d always considered there was scope for a full-length book of her adventures. The last of these short stories, Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Automaton Horse, introduced a Steampunk theme which suited the character and the period perfectly. The final element was her airship. I knew from photographs and documents I’d seen that the R100 airship was built at Howden in East Yorkshire just down the road from me. This material became the inspiration for Lady Sally’s dirigible. So, the character, the Steampunk theme and setting all melded together perfectly to create the idea of a book based on Lady Sally’s adventures across the Empires of Europe on her airship!

Do you have any writing method or ritual that helps you?

I wrote the first draft of Mistress Of The Air for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) during November 2016. I’ve always tended to edit as I go along, re-reading and fine tuning each chapter or section before pressing on. The daily word counts set by NaNoWriMo (50,000 words in the month) forced me to adopt a different approach. It encouraged me to keep getting the words down without looking back and continually tweaking what I’d already written. I found it worked successfully so that by the end of the month I was only a few thousand words short of a complete draft. I found it to be an efficient way of writing and I’m indebted to the encouragement provided by the NaNoWriMo scheme to enable me to complete this book so quickly.

Tell us about the genre you write in. Why does this particularly appeal and how did you get into it? Do you think your take on the genre is distinctive in any particular ways?

I write in the erotica genre with a distinctive femdom slant. The stories I write draw on the themes of female supremacy, BDSM and fetish, frequently in fantasy or historical settings. My work will invariably have dominant, powerful and charismatic female characters and submissive males. I like to look at the tensions between the dominant and the submissive and explore the boundaries between pain and pleasure, physical and mental bondage and retribution and reward. I came to write in this genre through serving a dungeon mistress for a number of years who was very skilled at creating scenes, assuming different characters, improvising and story-telling. I’m no longer active in that scene but the experience inspired me to start writing.

Do you write in other genres as well? Why? Do you write differently in these?

I’ve written stories for a Pagan e-magazine called Eternal Haunted Summer. There’s also a storytelling session before the local Pagan moot I attend and I tell stories there usually based on folk tales or mythology. As you can imagine, these are a very different style of writing from my erotica. Having said that, the influence of this other style of writing can clearly been seen in my erotica.

Do you have a favourite character in your own writing?

Obviously, I’ve a lot of affection for Lady Sally because it’s my new release, and she’s incorrigible – a total hoot, and can (and does) get away with anything! But, if I’m pushed I’d still say my favourite character is The Red Queen in my other novel, Adventures in Fetishland. She’s also a dominatrix, but darker and deeper. There’s more psychological drama with her, and it’s more personal and emotional. You can find out more about her at this link: http://slavenano.co.uk/writing/kims-adventures-in-nemesisland/ But if you want some laughs with your BDSM then stick with Mistress Of The Air!

If you could go anywhere in the world, but had to drop everything and go right now, where would you go? What pulls you there?

I love travel… but hate flying! I love going to different places and experiencing different cultures. In recent years, I’ve been to Peru to see Machu Picchu and Egypt to see ancient temples. Many years ago, I went to the central Asian republics of the former Soviet Union and it was this trip which kind of inspired my first Lady Sally story, Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Silk Merchant of Samarkand. She gets to fuck her silk merchant on the tomb of Tamerlane the Magnificent in a mausoleum I’d actually visited! The place I’d like to go is Iran. I loved the exoticism of those silk route cities and I think it would be fascinating because it’s a country that’s been ostracised for so long and remains relatively untainted by western influences. Why rush off now? Well, there may only be a short window of opportunity before it gets closed off again! Unfortunately, my partner is not so keen so I don’t know if I’ll get there!

If you could pick a past life, what time period would appeal to you and why? Would you be male or female? Rich or poor?

It would have to be the Neolithic period, say somewhere between 3-4000BC. I’m a Pagan and love visiting stone circles and ancient sites. Neolithic peoples were great observers of the natural world and skilled astronomers. I’m always amazed at how they achieved the alignments with the rising sun, phases of the moon and celestial bodies at these places. The scale of communal endeavour in shifting stones for stone circles or soil for henge monuments was incredible. So, I’d love to be a priest or shaman in Neolithic times and participate in the rituals they conducted.

Thank you for chatting. I really do hope your new book finds you plenty of happy readers. Would you like to tell us more about it?

Mistress of the AirBook Blurb

Mistress of the Air is a Comic, Steampunk, Erotic Adventure.

Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester owns a brass mine in Zanzibar, a Lapsang Souchong tea plantation in China, a rubber tree farm in Malaysia, trunk loads of corsetry, and the country’s largest collection of antique whips and floggers.

Larger than life, and itching to find new and inventive ways to punish her submissive gentlemen, the Edwardian dominatrix has a vision. Embracing the spirit of the new age of aviation, she embarks on a series of adventures on her own airship, The Corseted Domme, with her transvestite maid, Victoria, her airship pilot, Captain Wyndham, and her automaton sex toy, Borghild.

A select group of submissive gentlemen, consisting of a duke, bishop, lawyer and banker, is invited to join Lady Sally so she can try out her new dastardly devices and sex toys on them. She whips, spanks and punishes her way across the Empires of Europe, dropping off to visit her aristocratic relatives and friends for afternoon tea.

But Lady Sally’s journey is not uneventful. War is threatening to break out and the Ministry of Aviation want to commandeer her airship for the war effort. And when The Corseted Domme has a crash landing, Lady Sally realises there is a stowaway on board intent on sabotaging her airship.

There will be wild escapades, kinky BDSM, dastardly devices, explosions and nice cups of tea.



“Jolly bad luck on the final race, Wyndham. It was a daring move and deserving of greater reward.”

The captain’s face lit up at the compliment. He looked up but couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of Lady’s Sally’s breasts. Her dress was cut daringly low, and the magnificent orbs of white flesh were pushed up enticingly by her corset and the cut of her gown.

And then she started talking. If Wyndham was embarrassed about what to say to her, he didn’t need to worry. She commanded the conversation and Wyndham listened, bewitched and mesmerised at the vision she laid before him. There was no escape for him. He was pinned into the corner by Lady Sally’s heaving breasts with no escape. He tried to concentrate on what she was saying, conscious of the treatment meted out on Monsieur Le Blon, all the time urging himself to focus on her face not her chest, but it was an enormous effort of will when they were practically thrust under his nose.

She spoke of her airship. She described how vast it was going to be, how fast, how powerful, and how high it would fly. She described how sumptuously it would be fitted out. She extolled the virtues of her ocean liner of the air. Wyndham nodded enthusiastically as her breasts swelled and subsided with every excited explication of her venture. She enthused about her designers and engineers who were working on it, of the technical challenges they faced and how they had overcome them. Wyndham stood trapped in the corner of the ballroom like a frightened rabbit in headlights all the time trying to distract himself from the sight of Lady Sally’s enormous décolletage as it heaved up and down in front of his eyes.

Then she proceeded to explain how, as he must certainly know, she was the foremost dominatrix of her age and described with great enthusiasm the dungeon that would be fitted out on the airship, and how excited she was about the adventures she would have, and the whippings, spankings and punishments she would administer to the carefully selected group of submissive gentlemen who would be accompanying her on the airship’s maiden voyage.

“It’s my ambition, Captain Wyndham, to be the Mistress of the Air, yes…a veritable Mistress of the Air, and I envisage you playing a vital role in fulfilling my vision.”

Wyndham’s ears pricked up at those words but he only had the slightest moment to interject with a nervous, “oh really,” before the enormous breasts backed him even further into the corner. Lady Sally continued by praising his aviation skills and the daring manoeuvres she’d witnessed at the flying meeting. Wyndham flushed with pride. She went on, much to the captain’s delight, to say how those French aviators were all show and no guts, and she needed somebody who would take risks for her, to serve her loyally and selflessly. Finally, she wound up her diatribe and came directly to the point.

“Now Captain. I pride myself on my instincts and judgement of character. You see, the matter is I need an airship pilot. I need someone who can share my enthusiasm for air flight and is a skilled aviator. I believe you are my man Wyndham.”

Lady Sally continued extolling the excitement of the new age, how she was going to take her airship on a grand tour across Europe and how he, Wyndham, would be her pilot.

Finally, she concluded, “So that’s all settled then, Captain Wyndham. I can assure you the financial rewards will be considerable. It’s good to have you on board. I’m sure we will share many adventures together. You can report to my airship station at Howden in Yorkshire. My maid, Victoria, will give you all the details.”

With one dismissive wave of a lace-gloved hand she breezed off, leaving the hapless Wyndham gaping in astonishment. He had been swept away by her charisma. He had barely uttered a word. At no point had he agreed to the venture yet he knew in his gut he would accept the challenge. He felt strangely compelled to help Lady Sally fulfil her vision of travel in the largest and fastest dirigible ever to be built.

Buy links


Amazon US (Kindle): http://amzn.to/2qsu64J

Amazon UK (Kindle): http://amzn.to/2pxDBhr

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mistress-of-the-air-s-nano/1126181430?ean=9781545250242

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/mistress-of-the-air


Amazon US (print): https://www.amazon.com/Mistress-Air-S-Nano/dp/1545250243/

Amazon UK (print): https://www.amazon.co.uk/Mistress-Air-S-Nano/dp/1545250243/

Create space/eXcessica (print): https://www.createspace.com/7078177


About the author

Nano is an author of erotic stories with dark and exotic content in fantasy, paranormal or historical settings, often drawing on the themes of female supremacy, BDSM and fetish but with a seam of quirky humour running through them as well.

His first full-length erotic novel, Adventures in Fetishland, a BDSM/fetish re-invention of Alice in Wonderland, was published by Xcite Books. His short stories and novellas have been published by Xcite Books, House of Erotica, Forbidden Fiction, Coming Together and Greenwoman Publishing.

His second novel, Mistress Of The Air was published by eXcessica on 21st April 2017.

Social media

Web site: www.slavenano.co.uk/writing

Blog: www.slavenano.co.uk/blog

Facebook (Nano Vaslen): http://www.facebook.com/nano.vaslen

Mistress Of The Air facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/Mistress-Of-The-Air-1671491076492099/

Pinterest: http://uk.pinterest.com/nanovaslen/

Amazon UK author profile: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B005EBU1QI

Amazon US author profile: https://www.amazon.com/Slave-Nano/e/B005EBU1QI/

Goodreads author profile: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/6828376-slave-nano



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/s-nano/



Blog tour organized by Writer Marketing Services.


Out Now – Abi’s Neighbour by Jenny Kane

Today, I’m helping fellow UK writer Jenny Kane. And as the story’s set in my part of the UK, I couldn’t resist the chance! I’ve read and enjoyed some of her work, which she published as Kaye Jaybee.

I’ve just pre-ordered a copy myself, as it sounds really entertaining. My review will be shared in due course. Why not treat yourself? Go on, you deserve it…

Out Now – Abi’s Neighbour by Jenny Kane (@jennykaneauthor)

Set in the picturesque Sennen Cove, Cornwall, Abi’s Neighbour is the sequel to the bestselling Cornish romance, Abi’s House. 

It’s time to catch up with Abi, Max, Beth, Jacob, Stan, and Sadie the Labrador- and meet some unexpected new faces…


Abi Carter has finally found happiness. Living in her perfect tin miner’s cottage, she has good friends and a gorgeous boyfriend, Max. Life is good. But all that’s about to change when a new neighbour moves in next door.

Cassandra Henley-Pinkerton represents everything Abi thought she’d escaped when she left London. Obnoxious and stuck-up, Cassandra hates living in Cornwall. Worst of all, it looks like she has her sights set on Max.

But Cassandra has problems of her own. Not only is her wealthy married lawyer putting off joining her in their Cornish love nest, but now someone seems intent on sabotaging her business.

Will Cassandra mellow enough to turn to Abi for help – or are they destined never to get along?

Complete with sun, sea and a gorgeous Cornwall setting, Abi’s Neighbour is the PERFECT summer escape.

Abi’s Neighbour can be read as a standalone novel, or as a follow up to Abi’s House.

Available in eBook and print from Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/abisneighbour


The untidy, clipboard-wielding woman started talking as soon as she climbed out of her Mini. ‘Hello, my name’s Maggie, and I’m from –’

Cassandra cut impatiently across the formalities. ‘Sennen Agents, obviously. It’s written across your car.’

‘Oh, yes. So it is.’ Maggie paused, ‘Anyway, I’m sorry I’m late, I got stuck behind a tractor down the lane.’ She jingled a key ring in front of her. ‘I have your keys, Miss Pinkerton.’

‘No, you don’t.’

‘I don’t?’ The estate agent frowned, looking away from the woman that stood before her in expensive couture with crossed arms and a far from happy expression. Flicking through the papers on her clipboard, Maggie said, ‘I was instructed by a Mr Justin Smythe that you would be accepting the keys on his behalf?’

‘I meant, no, my name is not Miss Pinkerton. It is Ms Henley-Pinkerton.’

‘Oh. I see.’ Maggie refrained from further comment as she clutched the keys a little tighter.

Determined to make sure the situation was clearly understood, Cassandra pulled her jacket on, turning herself back into the sharp-suited businesswoman she was. ‘In addition to your error regarding my name, there appears to have been a further mistake.’

‘There has?’

‘Mr Smythe has not purchased this property. He has merely rented it, with an additional agreement to sublet it as a holiday home. I am here for two months to make the place suitable.’ Cassandra ran a disdainful eye over the beautiful exterior stonework. ‘It would seem that my work is going to be well and truly cut out.’

‘This is a much sought-after street, Ms HenleyPinkerton. And this particular property is in excellent period condition.’ Feeling defensive on behalf of the old miner’s cottage, Maggie bit her tongue and flicked through her paperwork faster. Extracting a copy of the bill of sale, she passed it to the slim, angular blonde. ‘I think the misunderstanding must be yours. Mr Smythe has purchased number two Miners Row outright. It was a cash sale.’

Snatching the papers from Maggie’s fingers, Cassandra’s shoulders tensed into painful knots. Why hadn’t Justin told her he’d done this? She was convinced she was right. And anyway, he’d never deliberately make her appear foolish in front of a country bumpkin estate agent…  Yet as Cassandra scanned the document before her, she could see there’d been no mistake. Closing her eyes, she counted to ten, before opening them again to regard the badly dressed woman before her, who was once again holding out the offending set of keys.  Failing to take them, Cassandra gestured towards the little house.

‘Perhaps you would show me around, after I’ve made a call to Mr Smythe?’

Maggie, already feeling sorry for this unpleasant woman’s future neighbours, took unprofessional pleasure in saying, ‘Good luck with that call. The phone signal here is unpredictable to say the least.’

It had taken a ten-minute walk towards Sennen village to get a decent reception on her mobile phone, and then, when she’d been able to connect the call, Justin’s line was engaged. When she’d finally got through, she was more than ready to explode. ‘Justin! How could you have done this to me without a word? You’ve made me look a total idiot.’

Clearly thrilled that he’d managed to buy the terrace for a knock-down price – which, he’d claimed, was a far more economic use of their funds, an investment that would make them a fortune to enjoy in their retirement – he’d sounded so excited about what it meant for their future together that Cassandra had found it hard to remain cross. Assuring her that the situation remained the same, and that she was still only expected to stay in Cornwall while he secured his new position and got the wheels of the divorce in motion, Justin told Cassandra he loved her and would be with her very soon.

Returning to the terrace reassured, if lacking some of her earlier dignity, Cassandra swallowed back all the words she’d have liked to say as she opened the door and the gloom of the dark and narrow hallway enveloped her. She was sure that awful Maggie woman had been laughing at her. The agent had taken clear pleasure in telling her that if she hadn’t stormed off so quickly she’d have found out that the phone reception was excellent if you sat on the bench in the back garden.

Vowing to never drink champagne in any form ever again, as it clearly caused her to agree to things far too readily, Cassandra saw the next two months stretching out before her like a lifetime.  Letting out some of the tension which had been simmering inside her since she’d first seen the for sale sign, she picked up a stone and threw it at the back fence, hard. Maggie had gone, leaving her reluctant client sitting on an old weathered bench in the narrow rectangular plot at the back of the house.

Playing her phone through her fingers, Cassandra saw that there was enough reception to make calls if she sat in this spot – but only in this spot. One step in either direction killed the signal dead, which was probably why the previous owners had placed a bench here. And probably why they left this Godforsaken place!  The Internet simply didn’t exist here. When she’d swallowed her pride and asked Maggie about the strength of the local broadband coverage, the agent had actually had the audacity to laugh, before informing Cassandra with obvious satisfaction that people came to Sennen for their holidays to leave the world of emails and work behind them.

Breathing slowly, she pulled her shoulders back, pushed her long, perfectly straight blonde hair behind her ears, and took a pen and paper out of her bag. It looked as if she was going to have to tackle this, old school.

First she would make a list of what she considered necessary to make the house habitable for holidaymakers, then she would locate the nearest library or internet café so she could source decorators and builders to get the work underway. The sooner she got everything done, and herself back to hustle and bustle of London, the better.

Deciding there was no way she could sleep in this house, which Maggie had proudly described as ‘comfortable’, ‘sought-after’, and ‘ready to be made absolutely perfect’, Cassandra hooked her handbag onto her shoulder and headed back into the whitewashed stone house. Shivering in the chill of the hallway, despite the heat of the June day, she jumped in the silence when the doorbell rang just as she bent to pick up her overnight bag. For a second she froze. It had been years since she’d heard a doorbell ring. In her block of flats back home she buzzed people in via an intercom, and anyway, people never just dropped by. She hoped it wasn’t that dreadful Maggie back with some other piece of unwanted advice.

It wasn’t Maggie. It was a petite woman in paint spattered clothes, with a large shaggy dog at her side. Cassandra’s unwanted visitor wore a wide smile and held a bunch of flowers in one hand and some bedding in the other.  ‘Hello. My name’s Abi, I live next door. Welcome to Miners Row. I hope you’ll be very happy here.’

abis neighbour facebook ad


Jenny Kane is the author of the full length romance novels Another Glass of Champagne (Accent Press, 2015), Abi’s House (Accent Press, 2015), the contemporary romance/medieval crime time slip novel Romancing Robin Hood (Accent Press, 2014), the best selling contemporary romance novel Another Cup of Coffee (Accent Press, 2013), and its novella length sequels Another Cup of Christmas (Accent Press, 2013), Christmas in the Cotswolds (Accent, 2014), and Christmas at the Castle (Accent, 2015).

Jenny’s sixth full length romance novel, Abi’s Neighbour, was published on 4th May 2017.

Keep your eye on Jenny’s blog at www.jennykane.co.uk for more details.

Twitter http://www.twitter.com/JennyKaneAuthor

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

Jenny also writes erotica as Kay Jaybee and historical crime as Jennifer Ash.

Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.