A Rendezvous with an Old Friend – Emma Calin meets up with Sophia, from Crowns.

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chateau-panorama

A character interview with Sophia Castellana from suspense romance novel ‘Crowns’ for the Passion Patrol.

I’ve been at my home in south west France working on my next Passion Patrol story. There’s still some warmth in the sun in the middle of the day. I’m as English as fish and chips but my partner’s home is in France – a good 300 miles south of London where the sun is higher in the sky. A couple of days ago I was amazed to receive a phone call from a French woman working at Versailles – the royal palace of France at the edge of Paris. She introduced herself and informed me that the Queen had invited me to dinner at the Chateau de La Roche Courbon – an impossibly beautiful castle very close to my home. I wondered why some official had called me but I guess royals have staff to fix everything. The caller outlined her wishes:

“Her Majesty is hoping to see you alone on ziz occasion. Her ‘usband is gone to Canada for a spa water cure with his friend Monsieur Trou d’Eau. Her Majesty is also very happy in realizing zat you are writing sometimes for papers and magazines and can put forward her private aspects to zee public. It would be her plaisir for you stay overnight and sample her new crude wine.”

I put the phone down and sighed. Sophia – married to Charles 11th of France – is a bloody difficult woman to be frank. I caught sight of her at the Royal Ascot race meeting the day of the terror attack. I’d also seen pictures of her in the celeb’ magazines at the christening of the Ambastilias baby in Naples. The parents Helen and Marco were beaming but Sophia looked – well you know, regal. I think it’s her way of staying aloof from the semi-scandal surrounding her marriage. By staying above it all, she doesn’t have to talk dirty if you know what I mean. She was thirty nine. He was twenty four and a very innocent young guy. Sophia has a very close friend – Martine La Plume, president of France. I mean, these girls are very close and the press like to reflect upon the nature of their relationship. Is that what she wanted to talk about? Dear me – not my bag but I’m as curious as any cat and about to look at a queen. A few days later I kiss my man au revoir without saying too much and prepare for une promenade on the wild side – maybe.

I drive my elderly little Citroen C3 past the main castle building with its Sleeping Beauty towers into a private courtyard. A severe looking female with hair tied back into a bun stands by as I stop. She takes my small overnight bag and leads me through an old wooden door studded with chunky iron nails.

“Zeez are the servant’s lodgings. Her majesty will join you in the castle. The fires should have warmed the rooms.”

I follow her back out across an open area where I remember there was once a film crew making the TV show ‘Born To Be King’ about Sophia’s husband, Charles. That was a few years ago during all the French political upheaval which ended up with a grand yet constitutional monarchy. My companion has a strict and frigid military manner. The evening is deepening with the V formation of crows swooping down to roost with raucous calls, echoing a mortal shudder of black wings. I remember too that this was where Sophia first met Charles, when her life was very different and the woman destined to be a queen was herself a prisoner.

We enter a huge kitchen with a rotisserie style spit turning over an open wood fire. A wild boar is still recognizable as it sizzles, dripping fat down into a tray. A maid operates the mechanism with a rope and chain while basting the meat. The aroma hits my hungry button with a sledge hammer. OK, I’m not too self-denying or PC. We walk through to a grand salon with chaises longues, Louis XV chairs and a cheminée with a roaring log fire. A line of chestnuts squeak as they cook in the heat of the hearth.

“Her majesty will arrive Madame,” says the strict cool lady, pointing to a chair and moving back into the shadows.

“Thanks,” I say in English not wanting to show any imperfection in my French. I feared she might have some kind of school teacher’s baton in her pants to correct naughty grammar students.

A door opens and the Queen of France walks in. Of course, I knew her when she was Sophia Castellana, a London cop, before she turned cougar and scooped the boy king. I stand and she comes to me, arms open, smiling. I prepare for the French two-cheek peck but get a hug and a woman’s warm lips more or less on my eyebrow. OK – I’m cuddly short and Sophia is willowy tall.

“Emma – Emma you came to me. I’m so happy.”

I relax and smile back. She’s wearing a burgundy velvet pants suit, a cream high-necked blouse and a double string of pearls. Her face is calm and her long aquiline nose still gives her an air of aristocratic certainty. She seats herself opposite to me in the light of the fire, crosses her legs to show off her flat heeled hand stitched leather boots. I’ve worn medium stiletto heals and a blue and cream striped jumpsuit I bought in Naples in September. I look at my scarlet fingernails and romantic display of gaudy rings. Fearing the chill of a draughty castle I completed my look with a wool blazer, in dark navy with a sparkle silver plaid in the weave. She was out-gunned. I was just out-classed.

“That hog smells so good. If you hear a noise it’s me rumbling,” I say, not sure what to call her.

“It’s in the tradition of the great kings of France and of course of the English royal house of Stuart”

“Oh yes – like the heritage of Charles – I mean your husband, um – the king.”

“Yes, indeed – now we try some chestnuts and our vin bourru. It is the autumn tradition here.”

bourru

From nowhere a waitress steps forward with two bottles of what looks like cloudy cider and places them on a side table. Then she collects the chestnuts from the hearth and sets them on a heavy earthenware dish, their skins split and giving off a sweet yearning aroma. The girl pours the wine into large glasses, curtsies and departs. A couple of low electric lamps come on in the corners of the room but still her features change and reflect in the firelight. I sip the drink. It’s fizzy, yeasty and actually lovely. I peel a chestnut as Sophia does the same. I feel a bit awkward – like maybe you would, wanting to ask a queen what it’s like being a cougar and if she’s also gay. I raise my glass to her.

Salut…

She catches my hesitation.

“Sophia, please and salut to you.”

We make eye contact. The French believe that a toast needs eye contact to ensure good sex. It’s my favorite tradition.

“Sophia, I was a bit nervous. Since we last met you’ve been mixing with the great heads of state, the artists, the stars and all the other royals of the world. You’ve gone beyond my realm of experience.”

She stared into the fire and spoke without looking at me.

“And what do you think of me now?”

“Sophia – the truth is I don’t know you now. I think you’re beautiful, I think you’re regal, I think you’re strong and brave. When you came to France after that night in London, that terrible night of death, I wasn’t expecting you to marry a boy and end up as a queen.”

“A boy you say?”

“A boy relative to you. He’d never had a fight, or a woman. He’d been training to be a priest for Christ’s sake.”

“He was twenty-three, I was thirty-eight. If a man of forty marries a woman of fifty-five – so what? Who would care?”

I nod. She was right. She was so right.

“Look, I’m with you on that. We expect different things for and from a man of forty that’s all. Maybe he’s not looking for a child with a woman. A younger man still has to make his way in the world.”

“Sure I get that. Supposing you had a baby crab that had lost it’s shell while the hungry seabirds hovered above the beach. Let’s imagine that this is the last crab and it needs to survive at all costs. To save a society from civil war a man needs survive and bring a new focus to the people. Charles needed that and he wanted no one but me. He loved me.”

“And you loved him?”

She turned to pick up her glass and smiled. Her eyes were warm on mine and I could feel her strength.

“Emma – you of all people don’t run from the complexity of love. Love is not one thing. You can watch waves on the shore and they can always look the same. Yet, in the history of time no two waves have made exactly the same sound or the same exact pattern on the rocks or sand. When two people meet it’s like that wave and like that shore. If love was a precise idea everyone would know exactly how to get it – like we know how to make a pizza.”

I laugh.

“A French queen wouldn’t talk about pizza.”

“My name was Castellana. I’ll never be French no more than the Medici.”

“So, he loved you and….”

“And I felt my own sexual desire as a woman. I felt pride that a young man would desire me over perfect younger women. I’ve had a child and have the belly medals to prove it. I felt power like I guess a teacher feels power. I’ve never wanted ultra-Alpha types. I wanted a relationship where a guy had fixed his idea of ecstasy on me rather than other women. A man never forgets that first time.”

“Nor a woman.”

She held my eyes, brought her hands up to her jaw and looked back into the fire.”

“You’re right again. I was a good girl from a good Italian family. I went to a girls’ school to keep me pure. Emma – sex is a powerful drive. It’s like bloody Vesuvius.”

For a moment I wanted to keep her mind on Charles. All the same I knew what she was saying. I was about to speak when she began again.

“I was a cop once. You live with a cop. I don’t have to explain this to you but here’s a question for you. You’re hungry, you’ve got no money. You’ve never stolen a thing because everyone says it was wrong. Society says it’s wrong to steal but you’re hungry. In the shop there’s a sandwich – you snatch it. You eat it. It feels so so good. It’s a wicked sandwich. It tastes so so good. You’ve done what you needed to do. The hardest crime if you like, is the first. To take sexual food when you’re starving is no moral crime. The law just masturbates in order to stay untouched and neutral.”

I think I’m wide eyed, maybe hanging my jaw. This is a freaking queen guys! I love her frank honesty and compassion.

“You were a working girl in London when a situation broke over you. Your courage and strength burned itself into this young man’s mind and he needs that strength every day in his life. His situation in France has enemies. Do you ever fear that he will falter?”

“Yes, Emma please believe me, yes yes yes. I stay regal, brave and proud because that’s the expectation. That’s what royals are for. Charles is a man of royal blood – the house of Stuart. His blood unites the story of the Bourbons, the Medici and the throne of Britain. I’m more alone than I’ve ever been. I cling to my self belief and….”

“Martine,” I say.

She lets out a long sigh. I see her utter vulnerability and loneliness. She waits with her eyes closed before looking back at me.

“Yes of course. Love of Power is to have no fear of loneliness. She’s a wonderful woman. She’s bold and takes the heat of conflict.”

“She has advisors and experts around her I’m sure.”

“Thousands, yes. She operates from her heart you know. You can have too many hangers-on. I tell her that and she knows it. I was a police sergeant and when it gets tough you just act. You give the orders and believe me, under stress, that’s the real you. You won’t be judged on cool long term policy. When the gun came out, when the fist hit your face – what did you do? That’s you right there.”

I take a good swig at the cloudy sweetish wine. She seems ready to talk so I dive in.

“A lot of people speculate about your relationship with Martine.”

“Ah – but not you Emma?” she replies with a smile and a raise of her eyebrow. “I’m sure a hardcore female like you would never ever ever have the slightest curiosity about love with another woman.”

“OK – I’m curious.”

“I was on a police operation to rescue Martine from a plot within her own close group. We pulled it off by the skin of our teeth. We were thrown together and she let me know where she stood on her sexuality with just a small gesture. I admired and respected her. Her hand touched my shoulder and she knew from my response that I wasn’t troubled by her implication.”

“But you married Charles.”

“Of course. I wasn’t expecting it but events and social media created that momentum. I wasn’t expecting anything from Martine. Charles is a good and gentle man. He’s a superstar with a generation of teenage girls and I believe, their mothers. He is very handsome – maybe more beautiful if you like. I love him for that. I love him more for his desire for me.”

“The European press say that you are the boss at Versailles and that you and Martine are the government.”

“Then for once the press are right.”

Her gaze was fixed on my eyes. I had forgotten that this was a woman who’d stood up to a machine gunner in London and risked her life on the streets of Paris. That same toughness was still in her core. I hadn’t discovered too much except that I was looking at a powerful woman, a beautiful woman, an attractive woman and above all, a queen.

I decide to nudge our chat away from the intensity of world control and politics.

“Do you still see any of the old team? Anna La Salle still lives close to Paris.”

dormeuses“Sure, but she’s a top cop now and often in London. I saw her husband at the Petit Palais gallery a few weeks ago. He’s an art collector and expert on Courbet. He’s desperate to buy a picture they have there.”

“What’s it called?”

‘Le Sommeil’. I told him I’d like to buy it myself for Versailles. I think it might shock Charles.”

I nod as if I know this painting. All I know is that Courbet was

bussac

A chateau at Bussac sur Charente

a local artist who spent a lot of time at the chateau of Bussac, not far from here. I also knew he loved the erotic. I’d be hitting Google later.

“What lies in your future Sophia?”

“A dinner of roast boar with my wonderful friend and a few local officials. Then a flight to Moscow with Martine to see President Pinupskin in the morning,” she answers, downing her wine. She stands and gestures for me to follow her.

“And if I write any magazine features about you – what would you like to present as your message?” I ask.

“That I have the heart of a woman.”

“That’s very enigmatic.”

“And very true,” she replies.

My audience is over.

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Available in e-book and print formats on this link: ‘Seduction of Crowns’ 

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‘Cougar’ romance – a steamy excerpt – for adults only from CROWNS

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Roche courbon

Chateau de la Roche Courbon – venue for the filmset action in ‘Crowns’

First move of seduction by a ‘cougar’ – taken from chapter 21 of Crowns by Emma Calin.

She was still reading when Charles came in. With only the light from the bedside lamp his head and shoulders were in shadow. She studied his large hands and the flatness of his stomach. Shamelessly and secretly beneath the duvet she moved her hand to a comforting aroused self-caress and set aside the book. It wouldn’t hurt to add a little secret tingle to his voice and presence. Wordlessly he lowered his lips to hers and she couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop, OMG, just couldn’t stop. The kiss was breathless, wet and pulsed out into his hair as her free hand held the back of his head.

Now I have been kissed,” he said.

She was trying to recover her senses. She was guessing he didn’t know what had just happened. He had one knee on the bed and was leaning over her. She moved her hands to his lips, like an animal wanting him to sense her. Some instinct in him made him clasp her fingers there and let the warmth of his tongue push between them. She knew where she wanted that hot tongue but not recorded on the bosses’ CCTV.

He took off his shoes and sat upright on the bed beside her.

You know I can’t stay, Sophia. Captain Côté is outside and I promised him I’d only be a minute. He has to guard me and he’s a good man. His soldiers are a bit rowdy after Vandervell’s film show and the wine. I don’t want to make things any harder for him.”

Did you just come to kiss me goodnight?”

Of course and to say I understand how you feel about the stuff I had to do for the show.”

The kissing and the bed scene,” she said.

I felt nothing. I just did what I’d seen on movies.”

She smiled, again letting her hand trail along his lips, gently parting them and feeling the warmth and wetness of his mouth. This time he kissed her fingertips.

She brought her lips to his and ran her hand along the fabric of his thigh. He gasped as she continued over his hard shaft. She paused at the head and pressed as she kissed him again, this time with her tongue.

Do you know how you made me feel just now?” she asked.

I don’t think so exactly,” he whispered.

You know I want you to let go too, don’t you?”

She pressed on his shaft, gently stroking him. He nodded and looked down.

I just want you to think of me and say my name and I’ll be saying yours, Charles,” she whispered.

He sighed and looked at her. She could feel the tight spring of his desire in every muscle of his body and chamber of his mind.

I love you,” he said in an awkward rush.

And desire me as a woman?”

Yes, Yes. It’s impossible not to….”

Then imagine me and say my name as you come. Hold me, only me, in that moment.”

I must go,” he said.

I’m thinking of kissing you, Charles. I’m not ashamed or shy about that,” she said as she slipped her hand back to her hot wet hood. She knew he was watching her face even through her closed eyelids. He was breathing hard as he watched her from the door.

Charles, Charles, think of me, oh God say my name, say my name too,” she pulsed out in a groan.

 

For more hot romance and adventure with Charles and his bodyguard-lover Sophia, check out ‘Crowns’

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Fiction meets fact: could France’s political problems be solved with a monarchy?

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Crowns with flag (1).jpgThis week I’m featuring the third book in my steamy suspense romance- ‘CROWNS’. It’s a story full of FRENCH flavor. Although I’m British, a lot of my life is in France. The English Channel is only a few miles across but it’s a huge gap in terms of tradition and attitude. France has a wild culture of street politics, strikes and direct action. They have a bloody history of revolution. My lovely neighbours like to joke about us Brits bowing and scraping our queen, princes, dukes and the like. Officially, the French have no need or affection for Royals. That’s if you just take their words at face value……

Scratch the surface and you’ll find the newspapers and mags in France are full of features on, you guessed….. the princes and princesses of Europe. They can’t get enough of the outfits/gossip/pageantry of the real life royal soap opera. I believe they’re secretly jealous. Several admit to wishing that there was still a monarchy in France. Of course, they would have no real power (just like our British royals) – but would be there as a spectacle to provide ceremony and a sense of national unity. I’ve often wondered how a country like France could go about reinstating a royal family in modern times? I mean what is a celebrity after all but an uncrowned “Special One”?

Well, a couple of years ago I let my imagination fly free and came up with CROWNS. It’s still my usual blend of female-cop action adventure and steamy passion…. but with a fantasy French finale!

Rather scarily, many of the predictions I make in the book have recently come true… a president comes to power and makes changes that enrage the people (Emmanuel Macron?). The recent ‘Gilets Jaunes’ (they wear yellow hi-viz fluorescent jackets) protesting across the country who correspond eerily with a political movement I call ‘The Patriotic Front”. Watch out for the ambiguous sexy Martine La Plume, their leader. There are several real-life living claimants to the French throne…. descendants of the original French Bourbon royals, via cousins/marriage and all sorts. A handsome guy from Maryland is the true descendant of King Charles the First of England and his French queen. When the crowd get behind him, history as always writes its own future in struggle and passion. It’s an all action romantic tale but maybe it says a lot about the way we are and just maybe points a way to bringing unity to a divided society. You’ll have to read my book to find out just how things might end up in France in the not too distant future.

‘Crowns’ available in print on Amazon worldwide and as an e-book on my website and at most e-book retailers here.   (Hint: for best prices, always buy direct from the author.)

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Feeling Fruity in France

Fruity in France 28.8.2017 00438 degrees Centigrade is 100 in good old traditional Fahrenheit.  This is the not quite the mellow fruitfulness that the English poet Keats wrote about the British Autumn and I’m HOT.  Here in South West France is full on Emma Calin style bursting lust. So much fruit, colour and sheer reproductive joy is just spilling and spilling out all around me. I can’t stop it or even hold it back. I’m just making jam, pickles and relish in my kitchen and hot hot love in my office as I boil up the next Passion Patrol story. I pick ripe sweet figs and tomatoes hot hot hot in the sun. It’s passion in the pot and passion on the page. Nature gets you to a point where you just can’t hold back and you just have to let go……..

If you can’t wait here’s a crop of  full FREE summer fruity reads. https://www.instafreebie.com/gg/D4HRfkFCEiKqXiP84N7A

Holiday To France Aboard Le Bretagne

gorgeous magician's assistant

I’m the gorgeous blonde in army boots with the handcuffs.

How often do you get to fulfill your fantasies? Well, OK – don’t tell me! (Isn’t life great when you just up and say what you bloody well want). BUT some fantasies just ain’t going to happen – like being a sexy magician’s assistant…….or maybe just a magician’s sexy assistant. The real shame is that my kids were not there to suffer obligatory embarrassment.

So, having traveled from my home in France to England to impart my hard-bitten worldly wisdom to my adult-lite kids in the UK for a couple of weeks, they wiped joyful tears from their eyes as I set sail back to Chateau Calin for Bastille Day on the Brittany ferry Bretagne. There I was, seated in the bar with Oscar, sipping our third or fourth organic vegan diet mineral waters, when Matt Grindley, the famous comedic magician appealed to the audience for a beautiful blonde female assistant to put him in handcuffs. Who else could he have wanted?  He must have read my books. Being a magician he knew I was there!

What a gent he was. He suffered my amateur febrile fumblings to put him in chains, rolled with me on the stage before at last I assisted in his erection – of a tent,  from which he escaped to mass applause. The man is a star and a trouper. I must say also that Brittany Ferries work hard to feature some top acts on their crossings. These guys are true pros who bring  show biz charisma to the journey.  Big Up Matt Grindley

And there’s even more performance to come. From the 18th July for one week all of my Passion Patrol novels are on sale at 99cents/99pence. OK: watch carefully. You take this cloth – you put it over  enough money to buy a cup of Starbucks coffee. You pull away the cloth and Voila – Three whole sexy police suspense action Romance books. Just like that. Magic! http://www.smarturl.it/PPSeriesALL BOOKS 99c-99p.png

 

 

 

 

Brexit Blues and Royals

 

Francois, William and Kate

President and Royals pose with the French Olympic fencing team. Photo credit express.co.uk.

Suddenly everyone is pushing buttons. Theresa May has hit the big Brexit button. World out there – ready or not here we come; or go; or sort of  wander about. So far I’ve not been taken as a hostage by the French government in case we don’t pay the 60 billion euros exit paperwork handling fee. (Pesky lawyers). Not sure who pays my fare if I get deported.

Why worry?  I’m about to press the launch button on Love Bleeds Blue and if everything goes as planned the royalties would soon get me out of jail.

In the meantime I wrote a modest feature for Impkater magazine. I felt rather humbled to be in such a publication. They’ve got some real scholars and experts I can tell you. I don’t know what to think until I’ve read these guys.  Anyway William and Kate – yes the royals – were doing a pre-Brexit Britfest in France. Republican or Royalist you can’t help loving all the glitter and pomp. The French did away with their chance to have shows like this so William and Kate are just showing them what they’ll miss if they’re unfriendly to us. If they don’t give us back our ball they sure won’t be getting any glass slippers from us.  AND we’re perfectly capable of making our own cheese to go with Californian wine so my suffering would be manageable.

331px-Arms_of_the_Kingdom_of_France_(Moderne).svg

French Royal Crest. (Wikimedia)

Very often French people whisper to me that they want to bring back the Royals and do away with politicians all together. Now – remember where you heard it first…….Come on now – you didn’t expect Donald or Brexit did you?

 

Emma Thinx:  Good neighbours make good fences. Bad neighbours make good fencers.

 

Love Bleeds Blue in Paris

Paris and Tonnay Charente 097Some part of me is always in Paris. I know she’s a shabby arrogant bitch who would shrug off my impudent fan mail but I just can’t stop writing them. I could tell her she’s just a heap of stones arranged around a muddy river. I could tell her she’s not as French as I am, that her cool gaze was international and more security cordon than cordon bleu. And she would shrug and rain on me, lifting her skirt above the red and grey reflecting cobbles to show a tease of petticoat.

So, for a while I gave up the fan mail. This time I did a whole novel. I know she won’t care.She won’t read it. She’ll sell it secondhand for fifty cents on a Sunday market stall on la rive gauche. I walk in the tear stained footprints of the wasted and decadent greats. I hum along to the metro jazz and long to soften her lips of stone. A woman should not feel this way – but Paris – I love you so so much.

Paris graphic

Don’t tell me she’s male. No – Paris knows more of love than any man! Tell me I’m wrong guys – please.

Emma Thinx: In a language with genders go for the plural. Get the max.

 

 

 

 

 

Emma Reveals All: But Only Under The Covers.

 

In France we have just emerged from our shelters as Tempete Zeus blows itself off to the east. I knew we would invoke the power of Zeus when we held our prize draw for the naming of characters in the book, since it was he who drew lots with Hades and Poseidon to get the supreme god job. I did notice the wind was getting up as we were selecting the winners. It’s cops, it’s sex, it’s action, it’s more sex, it’s politics,it’s love, it’s comedy, it’s out on April 3rd. I won’t bang on but here’s a short blurb.

Two women, two forbidden loves, one desperate chance. As the old political certainties of  modern life fragment, two fearless women gamble all to re-unite a country and point a way forward to a world in conflict.
pp3-left

Well, tell me what you think of it, please.

Emma Thinx: Falling at the first hurdle means you get to shower in peace.

Love Bleeds Blue Launch Crew – Go to Pad.

lbbdrawAt last, the firing sequence countdown has started. I’m breathing only hydrogen atoms now – they were on a two for one offer at Walmart. Yesterday we took to my French chateau garden for the climax of our VIP Launch Crew exclusive competition for names to be used in Passion Patrol Three – Love Bleeds Blue. Our special guest to perform the draw was Odile Vicomtesse de Saintonge, who appears in Passion Patrol Two.She obtained world wide fame for providing Shannon and Spencer with their historic love bed – a gift from Josephine de Beauharnais, lover of Napoléon.

The three winners have been selected and know who they are – but not their roles in the story. The VIP crew have seen the cover and next week is the grand reveal. Main fuel tank pressure is rising guys, countdown is running.

 

Emma Thinx: There’s a big leaking  dam of luck somewhere up stream.

 

 

Ageless Love. Gorgeous Grans.

brigitte

Image Published in Dawn, May 1st, 2016

When is love ever wrong? Maybe never. Maybe what I really mean is sex. Well, generally you know when you’ve had sex with someone or even on your own. But LOVE – that poor horse-whipped thoroughbred is far harder to recognise.

In my latest Passion Patrol novel (out soon folks!) there’s my usual sprinkling of indefensibly gratuitous lust. The setting is contemporary France where such matters are often part of the political mix. Even so, some things raise an un-plucked Gallic eyebrow. A few days ago my neighbour and I were discussing the up coming presidential elections in which a front runner is Emmanuel Macron, millionaire banker and ex socialist minister of finance in the Hollande government. In a whisper she told me “His wife is much older – she was his teacher at school. She was thirty eight and he was fifteen.”

Of course nothing happened until he was eighteen but well – it’s all rather lovely isn’t it? Actually it’s all rather stimulating. By the way – she’s a lovely woman. Not sure about him. Readers can expect some up close exploration of this theme. And that’s before we start talking about the leader of the French National Front Marine Le Pen. A lot of men (and women) find her sexy. Who the hell needs politics if we could just have happy sex and a good sexy political  read? Coming soon guys!

marine

Image courtesy Twitter.

Emma Thinx: Politics – what sexy people know as love and what lovers know as sex.