We are super-excited (and a little hot & bothered, but more about that in a bit…) to have award-winning author K D Grace with us today! Having known K D for many years (we’ll never forget her first reading at the shop – vegetable plots have never looked the same since), we are always delighted when she stops by for a visit. Today, she has exciting news to share – and (here’s come the hot bit) she is giving away a very juicy excerpt from her new book The Tutor… Over to you, K D!
I’m very excited to be guesting on the Sh! blog today. It’s no secret that Sh! is one of my favourite places on the planet and the fabulous Sh! Ladiez are my heros. It’s been a real pleasure to have Sh!’s manager, Renee guesting on my blog twice in as many weeks, where she’s been talking about putting the spark back in both couple love and self love.
What I’d like to talk about today is a writer’s eye view of that spark and what having that spark means to the rest of our lives. Since I started writing erotica, my tagline has been that Freud was right. It IS all about sex. I believe that more and more the longer I write. Our sexuality infuses every other area of our lives, and in no place is it manifest more powerfully than in our creativity. I know, I know. You would expect an erotica writer to say that. But I’m talking about art, music, dance. That spark is also manifest in the way we handle problems, the win-win situations in the business world, cutting edge science and technology, ways to make life easier and better for all of us – those all dovetail into our creativity, which, at its core, is libido and drive to create. ‘Nuf psychology according to K D. My point is that sex and creativity are linked. I don’t think it’s any surprise to find that creative people are horny people. Nor do I find it surprising that people want to write and read erotica. I think it’s because of that very same spark.
It’s our opportunity to link creativity and sexuality in a place that has been doing that for years without writing a single story – though certainly the Sh! Ladiez have a lot of stories to tell.
It doesn’t matter if you write it to sell or write it for your own private pleasure, to be able to put a sexual experience into words – whether it’s a fantasy or an actual experience – is in a way like building your own sex toy. Oh yes! You can totally get off on words. Ask any one of the Brit Babes, check out the Sh! book shelf, check out the pages and pages of erotic books on Amazon if you have any doubts. Words are a great sex toy and a fabulous sex toy prompt as well. It’s no surprise at all that Sh! has a well-stocked shelf. The other thing about words is that they’re the ultimate safe sex. One of the best things about writing down those erotic fantasies and turning them in to fiction is that it allows a writer to live out even the darkest, most dangerous sexual fantasy vicariously, and that allows the reader to do the same.
Writing erotica is also a wonderful way to explore our own sexuality, to bring those deepest, darkest secret desires into the light, but still keep them at a safe distance.
Writing erotica is a way of delving a little deeper into the places we might even fear to go, but that a story format allows us to do a little more bravely, a little more boldly.
Also, any erotica writer will tell you that there’s no better way to explore the human psyche, to discover who the characters in a story are, than to see their sex lives and their attitudes toward sex unfold on the page.
There’s a safe intimacy in words that allows us free rein to explore our sexuality and discover just how multifaceted it really is. With that in mind, I don’t think it strange that people want to write and read erotica, nor do I think it’s strange that other people are frightened of it and see it as a threat fearing the ‘damage it might do to society.’ Life is all about intimacy issues and how we handle sex is a HUGE intimacy issue.
I suppose in part that’s why my latest novel, The Tutor, holds such a soft spot in my heart. The novel is all about intimacy and the creative extremes we’re willing to go to in order to have it. In The Tutor, I take away the one sense that we never lose, the one we most rely on in our everyday life. I take away the sense of touch. Sculptor, Lex Valentine is severely haphephobic — not being able to touch anyone else or allow himself to be touched by others. Within that context, I wanted to explore intimacy and how it would develop – if it even could develop – without the aid of physical contact.
The Tutor is also a major testament to inspiration, which is another topic that will be approached in our workshop. The inspiration for The Tutor actually came from a workshop taught by Kay Jaybee at Smut Manchester last year. I was given a writing prompt that involved a tin of pears in heavy syrup and a mysterious summon to the storeroom of the local grocery store. That prompt led to The Tutor, proving that sometimes even when things go pear-shaped, good things happen.
While I probably won’t be bringing a tin of pears in heavy syrup to our workshop on the 23rd, I think I can safely say there will be writing prompts. For that matter, we’ll be in a fantastic store FULL of wonderfully sexy writing prompts.
We hope very much that you’ll sign on to join us and the Sh! Team, and we’ll do our best to stimulate that creative spark.
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 is the author of 13 novels, multiple novellas, and countless short stories. She is published with Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Sweetmeats Press and others.
Find K D Here:
Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/ http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk
K D have very kindly offered us a fruity preview peek at The Tutor and having read it, we’re feeling all flustered… Enjoy!
Struggling writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues.
The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.
Excerpt: Lessons in Pears
“Was this your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.
“It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve put lube on some of the sculptures – you know — down there, but I … well it isn’t the same.”
“The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb. “If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”
He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke, the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared almost since the moment they’d met. “You can look, if you want,” she opened her legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim, completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”
With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her pam to mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”
Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel. I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”
“Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.
“The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”
“What do you like?” His words were a labored rasp against the back of his throat, and Kelly found herself stunned by the question, and way more aroused than she wanted to be. He shouldn’t have asked. She should have answered. But she did.
“I like it this way.” She shifted her hips and opened a little further so he could see her thrust and scissor, circle and probe technique, and her body responded with the tight grip and release of muscle memory.
“Jesus,” he whispered moving forward on the sofa and leaning closer for a better look. “And when someone uses their tongue?”
She caught her breath in a giddy laugh. “Afraid I can’t tell you what I do since, sadly I’m not that flexible.”
“But you can tell me what you like.” His voice had gone rough.
“I like the flat of the tongue to part me and then probe me, circle my clit and then kiss and suck.” She closed her eyes, finding it difficult to meet his gaze when she spoke about something so intimate, so secret. Come to think of it, she’d never had a man actually ask her how she liked it. The few who had given a rat’s ass about her pleasure had been happy enough to let her order them about, but never quite got the hang of it.
It was the loud schussing sound that caused her to open her eyes. Lex had moved the coffee table out of the way paying no attention to the slosh of pear juice all over the towel V had spread. His eyes were locked on Kelly as he fished out his own pear half and fell to his knees in front of her. When she realized what the man was about to do she dropped the pear she’d been holding with a little gasp of surprise and scooted as far back in the chair as she could. He knelt low, holding the pear in the cup of his hand, as she had, placing it against the edge of the chair between her legs! She gave a little yelp and scrambled back in the chair still further, spreading her thighs over the rise of the chair arms to keep from touching him. He moved forward, the back of his hand so close to her crotch that she could feel the heat of it, and he lowered himself still further until his hair nearly brushed the insides of her thighs. Then, still looking up at her from his position on the floor, he began at the bottom of the open pear half and ran his tongue flat and undulating all the way up, flicking in just slightly in a little circle at the top end before he closed his lips around the apex and she could hear the slurp and suck of the sweet syrup.
“Oh! Lex! Ah!” And then she went non-verbal, holding her breath, tightening muscles deep inside her body, the only muscles she dared to move if she were to keep from touching him. She raised both arms and fisted her hands in a suicide grip around the back of the chair to keep from curling them in his hair. Her thighs trembled from her efforts to keep her legs on the chair arms and not throw them over his shoulders for leverage. She didn’t move. She didn’t breath as he licked and nuzzled and suckled until pear juice ran down his chin and onto his tee-shirt, until his face was damp and sticky, until his forehead was sheened with perspiration, and still he held her gaze as though they were locked together in each other’s orbit neither able to move without the other’s consent.
“Oh God, I’m gonna come.” She barely managed a warning when his own convulsion brought him dangerously near her body. He had stopped breathing, she was sure of it. She practically climbed the back of the chair to keep from touching him as he lost control. Then with a tremendous gasp of oxygen, he straightened, let the pear fall from his hand onto the Aubusson carpet and looked up at her.
“I’m going to pass out.” And he did.
The Tutor now available for Preorder
Release: 11th October
Totally Bound Publishing
Totally Bound Publishing
Feeling inspired? Book a ticked to Essential Elements of Erotica Masterclass here!