September Update!

Well, September's been anything but boring, but sadly all the interesting things are happening in my private life instead of the wonderful world of writing. BUT there will be a proper writerly post in about week, as Torquere Press are organizing a blog hop to promote the upcoming Charity Sips.

Tune in for that, as there will be something like 24 stories coming out all once, all in aid of OutServe. The stories themselves are out on Friday the 19th, so if you must have them immediately (and who would want to wait?) make sure to mark your calendars.

To help get you in the mood I created a mood board for my sip, Ad Astra (to the Stars).

A little snippet for those who haven't seen it yet (so very NSFW):



"I don't care if there's an orbital strike. We are not stopping," Nicholas said hoarsely, his hips bucking in gentle rhythm with Jacob's fist.

Jacob stilled his stroking. "What sort of attitude is that, sailor?" Jacob snapped his free hand down on Nicholas' thigh, short and sharp; Nicholas keened. Jacob tsked. "This is what comes with doing away with the lash."

"And the rum," Nicholas said agreeably, not bothering to open his eyes. "But they'll never take our sodomy."

"I think I could probably spank you, if you're up for it," Jacob said. Silly question, really -- Nicholas was always up for it; he probably really did regret, some days, that the Navy had done away with the lash so long ago.

As Jacob said it, Nicholas' eyes flew open, and within, concerned warred with lust. "Hand only," Jacob added, a little apologetically.

"Hand's fine," Nicholas said hurriedly. "Hand's great." Despite his obvious enthusiasm, Nicholas flipped himself over carefully, so not to rock the bed too much.

"Your attitude, and your mouth, has gotten you into trouble, sailor," Jacob said sternly as he leaned back and took in the view of Nicholas' long, lean body, as Nicholas rutted gently, legs spread, against the sheets. Jacob laid a smack down on Nicholas' left cheek. "Pay attention when I speak!"

"Yes, sir," Nicholas said meekly, and stilled his hips. Jacob smirked; he knew it wouldn't last.

"You should make a clean breast things, sailor, while you're here; perhaps a sound beating will keep you out of trouble in future."

"Yes sir," Nicholas agreed, turning his head so that his wide-eyed and earnest face peered up at Jacob; then he lowered his eyes so his long, dark lashes were displayed to full effect. "I truly am in the most dire need of correction."

This was secretly Jacob's favorite part -- the truly ridiculous nonsense that Nicholas would claim to have done in order to get Jacob to smack him harder, or for longer -- combined with his tendency to talk like a midshipman in an Age of Sail novel. Not that Jacob was any better, these days, but really, that was Nicholas' fault. He laid another slap down, this time on the right cheek, for balance.