Posts Tagged ‘erotic’

Geoff Nelder’s latest thriller — HOT AIR

December 17, 2010

Geoff Nelder’s HOT AIR — a thriller with a difference!
If you want a thorough professional review of Hot Air I suggest you visit Geoff’s blog or web site.
Geoff Nelder’s blog
Geoff Nelder’s imagination factory

Geoff Nelder signing books at Cheshire Oaks, Borders

Photograph of Geoff Nelder's HOT AIR — action-packed drama from beginning to end!

Here I am writing purely from a reader’s point of view. Well, not exactly a reader, more like a listener of stories. Since my eyesight is not good enough for sustained reading, my hubby reads to me several times a day. This is a totally different experience as, unless the reader performs to professional standards, it is easy for the mind to wander. That is, unless the story is really gripping and both reader and listener are alert to every nuance within the written word.
First, I will say that there is an excellent video trailer on you tube.
Needing no incentive to read the book, I preferred to experience the book first. Others readers may prefer an initial stimulus before purchasing.
The Story:
What seems like a fantastic birthday present — a trip in a hot air balloon with her wimp of a boyfriend — turns into a nightmare when bullets start ripping through their airborne chariot. What had they done to deserve this unscheduled event? Incredibly, they had witnessed nefarious deeds — murder? torture? gang rape? — taking place within a leafy garden in England’s green and pleasant land. Was that a knife glinting in the sun? Erica’s boyfriend Paul is busy with his camera.
Well, whatever is going off, someone is not pleased to have witnesses. From the death of their balloon pilot to the end of the book, murder, torture, mayhem follows Erica around like a whiff of bizarre perfume as she is chased through air, and across land and water — in ever increasing danger of meeting a horrible death. But her feisty spirit never flags. She trusts no one, and, so it appears, rightly so. Her ingenuity and courage are beyond measure. Often stirred but rarely shaken, she battles to escape both evil men and wild waves to make her way to freedom and so expose the murderous gang after her blood.
Who can she turn to? Unfortunately, those who help her tend to come to a sticky-bloody end.
But who is this gangster who saves her life and gets under her skin? What is he really after? Apart from sensuous sex, that is.
Many questions, from beginning to end, keep the reader anxious to know the answers. A good dusting of erotica along the way alleviates some of the chilling horror scenes. Mix with suspense, intrigue, humour, and full-blooded characterization, and you have HOT AIR!
Should this book be made into a film, you’d better grow your nails long — or take sweets to bite into! This really is a Thriller to unnerve even the most hardened of Crime readers!
Hot Air is available in print and as an eBook from Wuacademia. Click here to go direct to the site for info and swift purchase.

We read most of the Thrillers by top authors, Geoff Nelder’s HOT AIR ranks easily among them.

Gladys Hobson

Kilroy: Part Four. My Embarrassing Moment

April 1, 2009

An Embarrassing Moment, never to be forgotten.

We were ushered through to the studio and directed to where we were to sit. The benches were in tiers and curved so that we all had a reasonable view of what was going on.

The studio lights were directed on all sitting there and it was difficult to see into the dim space beyond. It is likely that the whole thing was set up to make us feel cut off from the huge studio space and to be a complete social group. The people on the first few rows were obviously grouped in such a manner as to gain some confrontation and provoke comment and argument. The staff who had been talking to groups earlier seemed to be telling individuals what was likely to happen and who would be speaking first, and the probable responses that would come from those with opposing views.

This is an assumption made from snatches of conversation and directed looks. I was not involved and had already been told that Kilroy would speak to me about my book during the show.

We were given instructions to clap and make a vocal welcome when Kilroy appeared coming down the steps, but first he came to speak to us. In the dim part of the studio I had already seen him talking to his team and looking up at the seats. It was too dark down there to see if he was indeed the sun-baked, silver-haired Lothario, scoffers make him out to be. The show had been going for years and no doubt he would know exactly where the initial speakers would be sitting. I wondered how he would remember names. An excellent memory or did he have a prompt somewhere? If he had a tiny receiver in his ear I didn’t see it.

The show was about to start and Kilroy walked over to us. First to have a word to those who were to begin the discussion, then to tell us all what we must not say — anything that might offend viewers or the BBC guidelines, including bad language. He went off but not for long.

Soon came the music, clapping and the usual hubbub that accompanies Robert Kilroy-Silk down the steps to confront the camera and tell the viewers what the show is about. I don’t remember the exact words but something about getting older and still being sexy. I sat wondering how I fitted in with this group made up of women of all ages and a small sprinkling of men. I have never considered myself sexy, not even when I was young. I only wore make-up for special occasions, and now, almost never.

Let battle commence, seemed to be the feeling of the programme right from the beginning. A young lady seemed set on ridiculing those older women who, in her opinion, dressed like teenagers, ladies of the night, or otherwise drew attention to their attributes. I could see she had a point as to the suitability of certain clothes for the older fuller figure: without bras some breasts tend to look like the proverbial two pear drops dropped into a bag, and deep cleavages an invitation to dispose of one’s sweetie papers.

Of course, some women had deliberately dressed as though going to a party or for a drink with friends. But there were those who said they would be quite happy to go shopping in their heavy makeup and, what to me were, bizarre clothes. I thought it all rather jolly that over (well over) sixties felt free to dress as they pleased. Hair pink? Why not? My scalp is pink and plenty of that is showing. Swinging breasts in low-cut dresses? I’ve got the swing but I wish I had the nerve — life would be much more comfortable.. Dressing-up with the intention for one night stands? Their bodies they’re flogging.

In all this Kilroy was most skilful in keeping the talk flowing and switching from argument to a different point of view, or another subject. He already had a good-looking woman picked out to display her choice of clothes and make-up — quietly elegant. She stood up for him and gave a twirl, as did others. In front and to the side of me, a curious man wearing a rather odd hat, turned out to be a fashion designer, and he agreed to ‘dress’ one of the despairing ladies to help her get a companion. Older women and sex came up, and a young person seemed to think oldies should not go out poaching men from them. She seemed to have the idea that sex was only for the young. I detected an element of disgust in the idea that oldies engaged in sex.

The question came up as to whether only the young can possibly have enjoyable sex — or some such. A glance in my direction and before long Kilroy was heading up the steps to stand next to me, microphone at the ready.

“Gladys,” he said. I looked up and smiled nervously.

“You sent me the manuscript of your book, didn’t you?” Kilroy asked, looking first at me and then around his audience, drawing their eyes in my direction.

“Yes.”

“And I said to you, “Cool the sex.”

“Yes.”

I doubt anyone heard me answer because they were all laughing. I tried to keep cool and not show my embarrassment.

“Gladys sent me the manuscript of a book she has written. It’s about a granny who wants sex.”

“Oh no — a granny who wants an orgasm,” I quickly corrected him, but the laughter made it impossible for me to explain further.

“And that isn’t sex?” Kilroy quipped.

“Ho, ho, ho. he, he, he.” The laughter ran around the studio like a man racing for a toilet after being fed a triple dose of laxative chocolate, plus a pint of rough cider after a mayoral banquet!

That is just the beginning of my embarrassment— more to follow. Don’t miss the last bit: Oh, what we authors do to get out book noticed!

Read a couple of chapters at http://www.magpiesnestpublishing.co.uk

PLEASE NOTE: UPDATE SEPT. 2012 BLAZING EMBERS IS NOW SMOULDERING EMBERS AND WILL SHORTLY BE PUBLISHED BY TURQUOISE MORNING PRESS

Kilroy, Part Three — Nervous Expectations

March 25, 2009

Nervous Expectations

That afternoon we arrived at the station to pick up two tickets. When I arrived home and examined them I found one was for the return journey. I rang up a number that had been given me and found out that only one ticket had been ordered. There seemed to be some confusion, but in the end they said it would be settled on arrival at the studios. Now what? Should I go to London by myself? My husband was not keen as I get blinded by sun and sometimes have problems crossing roads. I said they would likely pay up for his ticket but if they didn’t we would think of it as a day out together. We knew buying a ticket on the train from Cumbria to London at commuter hours would not be cheap. What with the possible cost and venturing into an unknown situation where I could so easily get tongue-tied, I only managed a few hours sleep that night

Sitting on the early morning London train the following morning, I felt a bit better about things. I had convinced myself that this was quite an adventure and a fantastic opportunity to promote my novel. Suppose a publisher happened to see the show and saw the book had great possibilities? Stranger things have happened.

Once at Euston station it was not long before we were picked up along with another invited guest and taken in an eight-seater saloon to the studios. It was during this drive that I discovered the title of the subject under discussion for that day was “I’m still sexy though I’m older.” My heart sank. This was not what I was expecting — no way am I sexy, nor do I try to be. I do not wear makeup, nor dress in revealing clothes. How does my book fit in with the subject? What was I doing there?

Inside the studios we were processed and my husband had his train fare reimbursed, plus a bit of cash for snacks. One of the producers, I think his name was Simon Powell, came along to talk to me. He seemed pleased that I was there and tried to coax my hubby onto the show, but he might as well have tried to get the Duke of Edinburgh on the bench next to me! We talked about my book and he seemed very interested. He asked me if I would send him the manuscript to read because he had a few ideas. Wow, would I? You bet!

A young lady came along and had a go at my husband too. She said he did not have to sit next to me and he did not have to speak, but he would not give way. I don’t blame him, what with the title of the show, and the whole atmosphere of the place, he might have ended up a fall guy.

We were left to have a coffee and sandwiches while produces, or whatever, chatted to a few little groups. Looking around we could see ladies both smart and theatrical looking. Most were heavily made up, some looked as if they were dressed for a party, one looked as though she were about to play in Pantomime. Another lady looked a little like a weight lifter in drag. I wondered what on earth I was doing there.

Then came the call to take our seats in the studio. This was it, and I had yet to meet Robert Kilroy-Silk.

Part Four

My Embarrassing Ordeal comes next. DON”T MISS IT!

Read a couple of chapters at http://www.magpiesnestpublishing.co.uk

 

KILROY. Part Two — Embers Start Blazing

March 18, 2009

Kilroy advises: “Cool the sex”

As I said in the previous KILROY article, my book Blazing Embers was initially inspired by a Kilroy programme where the older generation discussed their sexual problems with a most sympathetic Robert Kilroy-Silk.

I received further inspiration from a book I found for sale on the shelves of a Country Bookstore in Derbyshire. Here I was to learn about sex, good sex, and superior sex. It seemed to me that most people would benefit from following the simple techniques recommended in this instruction manual, to say nothing of exploring the whole variety of positions — maybe some of the latter not recommended for the less agile. Sudden attacks of cramp are likely to cause yells loud enough to alert neighbours into thinking someone is having a heart attack. Either that, or experiencing orgasmic pleasure to be envied. But once on the trail to better sex, such small setbacks are nothing to worry about and mature couples may well regard them with hilarity. After all, superior sex is looming on the horizon and no pain no gain! Oh yes, this was all good stuff for my book. Or so I thought.

Research for the book also explored various sex aids. I could hardly write about something I had never seen. This was another revelation for an oldie like me. Sending for them was a bit embarrassing but not as much as asking for an erotic magazine off the top shelf of a local newspaper agent. I told the man I wanted to give my hubby a surprise for his birthday! Late night television was a bit of an eye opener too but not enough to keep me awake for long. After all, there is educational sex on many programmes after nine o’clock and sometimes you don’t have to wait that long. Today’s youngsters must be the most sexually educated — mainly by example — in the history of the western world. We oldies are only just catching up.

Having done my research, writing my novel was all consuming. I must admit, fun too. I tried a few agents and publishers with my manuscript and, surprisingly, I did get a few comments, other than the standard variety, from the editors or readers. One said she had enjoyed reading the sample and found it highly amusing, but not the sort of thing they dealt with. A few other agents wrote in a similar vein. It was after setting up Magpies Nest Publishing, so as to publish When Phones Were Immobile And Lived In red Boxes, a book written to raise money for a charity, that we decided to publish my novels too.

Hoping to get some sort of endorsement for my book that I could put on the back cover, I got in touch with Robert Kilroy-Silk. I explained what had inspired me to write this novel and asked if he, or his PA, would read it and give an opinion — also asking for his permission to use his name in my book. I did not really expect a reply, unless a polite way of saying ‘get lost’ but I was wrong. The message duly arrived telling me to send Kilroy the manuscript.

In due course, I received Kilroy’s comments. He said he was flattered at my description of him as the mature woman’s ideal man (or some such) and he also wished me well with the book. His one bit of advice, if indeed it was his advice and not that of his PA, “Cool the sex,” I have to admit, the first drafts of the book did have rather hot sex scenes, so I accepted the suggestion and revised some of the passages, or cut them out altogether. However, there was nothing from Kilroy that could possibly have gone on the back cover. On reflection, perhaps I was wrong about that. Such a statement might well sell books especially if I printed an unexpurgated limited first edition! Alternately, maybe just mentioning the fact that sex scenes had been cooled as per Robert-Kilroy Silk’s advice might draw interest. Right or wrong, I set about making changes.

It was not long after the return of the manuscript that I received a phone call from someone on the Kilroy programme’s team. Whoever had read the manuscript had suggested I should be invited to take part in the show that week. Could I make it to London the following day? For my book’s sake I was most willing. Ah, but they wanted my husband too. Okay so he would accompany me to London, but go on the show? Never! They still wanted me there and said they would look up the train times and that tickets would be waiting for both of us at the booking office.

Part Three —‘My embarrassing ordeal’  — to follow!

Read a couple of chapters at http://www.magpiesnestpublishing.co.uk

 

SEX? Had Enough Of It?

February 2, 2009

SEX Had enough of it? Let’s face it, the TV screen is seldom lacking in scenes or language with sexual connotations.

Of course, when I was young there were no television screens to inform us about such matters or to stir our imaginations (or hormones when we approached puberty). Radio did not broadcast such things either. But we had the silver screen to teaching us romantic notions, if little else. Oh the queues outside the cinema when the Outlaw was released! Buxom Jane Russell in a low cut blouse, and with a sultry look to go with it. Evidently her being tied up is now considered as a bondage scene. We had never heard of such things as bondage in relation to sex. In fact we had heard and seen hardly anything in relation to sex other than simple kissing and lusty looks.

When I heard Alfred Hitchcock talking, a few years ago, of his scenes that were symbolic of the sex act, I have to admit it never occurred to us (me anyway) that the end scene with a train entering a tunnel, or a sudden burst of fireworks, could be anything other than what they appeared to be. Only education or experience would have given us a hint and we (that is my friend and I) had neither.

No education? Well, some. We did learn about single celled animal life that reproduced by division.

But surely graffiti on toilet walls told us SOMETHING? No. I don’t even recall graffiti until I was much older.

What about the F word? No, I had not heard of it (that I recall) but I would not have known what it meant until “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” became a court case and then was released for general reading.

We were naïve and ignorant (as mentioned in my When Phones Were Immobile and Lived in Red Boxes

Funny thing about words. How do some words become used for swearing? That is, in the first place?

When I was teaching one morning a pupil suddenly ruined the picture he was painting. He yelled the F word. (Such swearing unheard of in my classes – I only heard swearing in the staff room!))

I could see he was shocked by his own sudden outburst so I decided not to make an issue out of it. But the class had stopped work and each pupil was looking at me. “Keith swore, Miss. He said the F word.”

So I looked at Keith and asked him if he would explain to me what the F word meant. “It is not in my vocabulary,” I said.

The class giggled. “Oh Miss, it is a rude word.”

 “Ah, so you know, You explain then.”

The class went silent.

“Don’t say words that you are ashamed to explain,” I told them all, and they got on with their work.

Why this little story? Because I believe you can write romantic, yes, and erotic, stories in language that expresses feelings and sensations that are in harmony with the soul and with nature, without the need for coarseness. Those looking for kitchen sink drama with nothing but swearing must look elsewhere. Personally, I hear enough of it on the TV!