Suspense Romance meets Romantic Suspension Bridge

OK guys – it’s tuxedo and red carpet time. Well, maybe not quite but all things are relative. Members of my VIP Crew entered a draw to receive a free audio book edition of my story Escape to Love.

Rather than just drawing the names out of any old hat, I put on my cycle helmet and pedaled my tandem to the French town of Tonnay Charente for my first two wheeler-four legger  outing of the year. It seemed an appropriate location for the draw as the flow of one of France’s greatest rivers swept its random cargo of fallen tree branches onward to the Atlantic ocean.

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The flow of chance

I decided to award four prizes rather than just one – cos well hey, it’s Spring and I like to splosh out the romance whenever I get the chance. I think I’ve said already that I am the reader on the audio book. I’ve still got a slight London accent as has the central character Maria. I’m not a pro audio artiste but between you and me I never submit a book before I’ve read every word out loud. It’s a sure way to spot an ugly or awkward sentence or an unbalanced paragraph. So, here are our winners:

M. Cervantes from Texas USA.

M.Gerhart from Shoemakersville USA.

R. Fauble from Cadillac USA.

J.Edwards From Richmond USA.

Good job guys and thanks to everyone for joining in. Hope you enjoy the story. As you know I write about cops in my Passion Patrol books but this big hearted tough gal is on the other side of the line. Well, we all know it’s a pretty thin line don’t we!

Emma Thinx: Life’s an acting job. Don’t learn a line you can’t walk for real.

 

Little Girl Lost – A Review.

little-girlWhen I’m writing I find it quite hard to read books of other authors. I think secretly this might be because I realize that so many of them are better than me. In any event, it is really easy to pick up someone else’s style or even steal an idea – as if I would allow anyone to walk into my book without asking why, from all the books in the world, did they have to walk into mine?

I made an exception with Carol Wyer’s latest book, Little Girl lost, figuring it would be nothing like a thriller – after all she’s a celeb ‘social comment comedy writer. Wrong – Carol has put a reverse twist in her own plot. She’s gone over to the dark side and I kinda feel she might might do well enough to buy a house there and may never come back. Actually I think Carol is a talented writer who can just write anything from shopping lists to best sellers.   It’s a twisting tale of revenge and deception that will keep you holding on and turning pages. I scribbled a quick review

I’ve read Carol Wyer before and thought of her as a writer of wry social comedy. This book is a new departure into thriller territory where there is plenty of competition from some really big fish. I don’t want to add any spoilers as to the plot but the story twists and turns around the issue of identity. Detective Inspector Robyn Carter eventually solves all the puzzles and will doubtlessly snake herself around many perplexing inquiries in the future. A good well paced read that keeps you guessing.

So guys – buy it!

http://smarturl.it/Lgirllost

Emma Thinks: Personality is the jukebox of memory. Make’em hear your  selection.

 

Let Them Drink Wine

I guess childbirth kinda gets you ready to release a new book. The original concept was fabulous wanton fun, the development was a bit up and down and the final push is a release followed by sleepless nights.

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I’m the grapeist

The next model in the Passion Patrol series is hunched down in the starting blocks. The serious looking guy in the blazer is raising his gun. I see barriers, medals, bruised shins and failed drug tests ahead. May as well have a glass of wine while I’m waiting.

And wine brings me to the setting of Passion Patrol 3 in God’s own country of the vine – France. The action unfolds in Paris, London and a real life Disney castle in deepest Aquitaine.

roche-courbon

Anyone seen my glass slipper?

Naturellement wine is served and the only choice would be the local vin de Saintonge. For many years this region was humbled by the big hitters of Bordeaux just down the road. Local producers tended to produce wines for the Cognac makers just to the east. However a change of varieties has brought about a renaissance and the modern Cépage en Saintonge range is both a delight and a bargain. You’ll find a 3 litre box in supermarkets for about 9 Euros and a bottle for 2.87 Euros  – that’s 3 US dollars.

I’m no expert on wine. I’d like to tell you it has scents of leather and highlights of vanilla on the palate. For ladies the red Merlot is warm and fluid, as rich as the sun bronzed skin of a lover, as soft as his lips on yours. Swallow and let the warmth and need for more spread shamelessly lower. Goes well with sausage and red meats.

Emma Thinx: The message in the bottle always reads Hope.

Warning: This Post Has Adult Contentment

The Power of Love

Like so many others, I have been reading Fifty Shades. This book has many aspects but nothing much caught my attention before the scene where Anastasia goes to the ball  wearing silver jiggle balls in an intimate location. Now, that could have given a whole new meaning to the term college drop out. At least no one would need castanets. May I just say at this point that top critics (Oh yes, they really exist) of such devices complain that they are too noisy. In my view this only applies if you are a stick insect and there is little flesh to suppress the percussion. 

Writing my latest novel has led me to research the world of sex toys.(Of course, I had no existing knowledge). There is a reference to the term dildo in Shakepeare’s Winters Tale, where the general tone is the jumping and thumping of maids. Now that sounds more like Fifty Shades. Several references to the dildesque can be found in serious literature by the likes of Saul Bellow.  William S Burroughs’s novel “The Naked Truth” features a dildo named Steely Dan III. In my life I have met several complete dildos with very ordinary names.

But, here is my point. Seemingly most females have at least one sex toy. Judging from reviews on sales sites such as Ann Summers, much satisfaction is gained thereby. This being the case, should a modern cutting edge writer of Romantica expect to enter such elements into her own text? Recently I saw an advertisement for a vibrating mobile phone that the lady wears within her under garment. This enables her lover to call her to express his love. This would revolutionise the commuter train experience. Just think – no more calls about “Did you remember to get the cat castrated and buy some dishwasher salt?” Instead there would be nothing but orgasmic gaspings. Trouble is, the show-offs would be faking remote controlled cyber-joy like all of those righteous anorexic joggers proclaiming their discipline and sacrifice . Oooh – I’m a scratchy bitch.  

So huge is the toy industry that it would be pointless for me to add anything technical. I was only eight when Barbarella came out but it played on T.V. late slots for many many years. I have always thought that perhaps it encouraged women to break out a little. If you are too young to have caught it, take a peep at the machine of excess pleasure. Since then huge amounts of silicone have travelled many valleys. These days the soft hard and limp ware is there, whatever your needs. 

The issue is their context in modern love. At what point can the meadow of unexplored love be nibbled by the rampant rabbits? (If you are in a private location and unaware of powered rubber rodents click here). If I am being deadly serious, many real life heroines have only come to know themselves by taking a walk on the wilder side of a toy story.  Let us imagine such a person.

It was their first night in Venice. The Spring sun had teased the ripples of the lagoon before departing with a raised eyebrow of promise and return. The night drifted in, slowly weaving its slim cold fingers  around the halos of lamps and the calls of boatman on the Grand Canal. This moment of life  lived itself and was beyond her own desires. Only now  she took his hand  as the darkness seeped into them. Dare she reach out and offer her warmth as contrast to the chill? All day, the city had seemed to blind him. Now it slipped away from sight and she was aware of his restless young body and of her own. A night would be and could not be held back. She was tired but thrilled to the animal possibilities of decadence that she had not the power to resist. She let her hand soften a little to hint at her mood. She breathed more slowly and let her eyes find nothing but his. Although his gaze was on the horizon she knew he sensed her focus and that she was a woman. It had been a risk to bring him here. The dusk had blurred their differences and she was beginning to enter a remembered flow. Her lips needed his and yet she bowed her head and merely let her forehead rest on his hard upper arm. The last false light silhouetted La Chiesa Santa Maria de la Salute as he turned and with his palm raised her chin. His gaze caressed her and drew her out from her body so that their kiss was disconnected from time. She drowned in his strength and had no sense of will.

‘This place isn’t Venice, it will ever be you,’ he said.
‘I was wanting it to be us.’
‘I’ve wanted that since you stepped out of that Bentley.’
‘Then we’ve some kisses to catch up,’ she said.

He let out a groan and cuddled her to him with a  boyish bear hug clumsiness. He was to be her lover. She reached up to push his hair back and hold his face. She offered her lips and he took them instinctively as a man taking a girl. For now she could define their roles and he would respond. She knew in his kiss that soon enough he would tell her of his love. And she knew she would love him more  but never let him leave with such a trophy. 

Now, I had intended to spoof this with some kind of flat battery, vibrator cheap shot but I just bloody well couldn’t because I was enjoying it. The fact is that sex toys are sex. Romance is Romance. The above scene is a glimpse of my next book. I suspect that this lady may well have found herself more fully as a result of experiment and a falling away of shyness. Late in her life she has learned of pleasure. It will be her gift. 

Emma thinx: Keep the private lessons secret. Share the knowledge.  












I’m Fifty not Thrifty – Still Giving it all Away

First of all it was Woolworths. This wonderful shop from which I had purchased my first 45 rpm record (T Rex singing “Ride a white Swan“) closed a few years ago. Oooh – I was only 8years old but Marc Bolan was the prettiest bloke I had ever seen. I had been given a record token (who remembers them?) for my birthday. It was a few months later that I heard him singing and my love affair with men wearing tight pink clothing began. Ever since I’ve been addicted to the Giro d’Italia cycle race.

And now, 42 years later, as the Giro rolls across Italy, I am approaching the big Five Oh No. To coincide with this event “Clintons Cards” announces the closure of about half its outlets. Seemingly they are a victim of the e-card, rather in the way that dead tree books are becoming a victim of the e-book. I am not sure how I feel about any of this. In order to celebrate my birthday I’m giving away digital copies of “Knockout” on Amazon Worldwide ( USA UK FRANCE GERMANY ITALY & SPAIN) during Thursday 17th and Friday 18th May in the hope of reaching the big 50 in the charts as well as in my bones, teeth and soft components. As a special salute to “Clintons Cards” and the dead tree book industry, I am also giving away signed copies of my paperback on Goodreads – all entries to be in by Sunday 20th May.

Now, another year slips by and all that. I do just wanna say that I’ve had more fun and frolics since I turned forty than I had ever had before. Wow – let’s ratchet it up for the next decade. Maybe a little extra chilli and garlic, maybe a slightly deeper red wine over a longer lunch. Slower breaths and longer kisses have been the wisdom of my ageing.  Really truly, this is a deeply serious comment. The English summer is cold and wet so far. The Euro creaks. The money beast bellows. From Greece come stories of mounting suicides and new born babies being held as security in hospitals when mothers cannot pay. Let us not forget love, comradeship and pleasure. It is allowed.

Emma thinx: Comrade humans – if not us, then what is humanity?