ALISON'S WONDERLAND is out! This bumper anthology is edited by Alison Tyler for Harlequin Spice, and I'm absolutely delighted because it includes my short story "Kiss It."Over the past fifteen years, Alison Tyler has curated some of the genre's most sizzling collections of erotic fiction, proving herself to be the ultimate naughty librarian. With Alison's Wonderland, she has compiled a treasury of naughty tales based on fable and fairy tale, myth and legend: some ubiquitous, some obscure—all of them delightfully dirty.
From a perverse prince to a vampire-esque Sleeping Beauty, the stars of these reimagined tales are—like the original protagonists—chafing at desire unfulfilled. From Cinderella to Sisyphus, mermaids to werewolves, this realm of fantasy is limitless and so very satisfying.
Penned by such erotica luminaries as Shanna Germain, Rachel Kramer Bussel, N. T. Morley, Elspeth Potter, T. C. Calligari, Sommer Marsden, Portia Da Costa and Tsaurah Litzsky, these bawdy bedtime stories are sure to bring you (and a friend) to your own happily-ever-after.
Available from bookshops in the US, online retailers including Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk, and direct from Harlequin and HMB in the UK.
Here's a teaser from my story:
KISS IT
by Saskia Walker
“They say if you kiss it, you’ll get the gift of the gab.”
It was the man’s seductive brogue that caught my attention, rather than what he said. I knew all about the Blarney Stone already. I’d flown from England and then covered the breadth of Ireland on a bus full of tourists to get to the castle where it was located.
I paused on the woodland path I’d been strolling along and glanced in his direction, wondering where he’d appeared from. He was a couple of inches taller than me, and built solid. His features were rugged, his eyes filled with whimsical charm. Thick, dark hair, and bold blue eyes reflected his nationality. He was a local, and he had a wild gypsy look about him that captured my attention. Was that what he was, a gypsy in the woods?
“The Blarney Stone.” He nodded in the direction of the castle that housed the legendary Irish stone, and lifted his eyebrows. “Did you want to kiss it?”
For some reason, the way he said, “kiss it,” didn’t make me think of kissing the rock that was currently surrounded by tourists. Instead, it made me want to kiss something else. Him? Embarrassed, I clasped my hands around my arms and glanced back along the path. The crowd of people gathered outside the castle was growing all the time. That’s why I’d wandered away into the forest instead, my attention strangely lured by the pretty woods. And now I was being strangely lured by a man who looked like a gypsy. When I looked back at him, he was smiling at me as if he knew what I was thinking. The sun was bright behind his head and I shielded my eyes as I replied.
“Yes, I thought I would, “ I paused, “kiss it…” Oh, for some odd reason, saying that aloud made me feel as if I’d been embraced and fondled by the words. “But there were so many people up there.”
My explanation dwindled off as self-awareness gathered inside of me. Where had he appeared from? Perhaps he was a groundsman. Faded blue jeans encased strong thighs. The jeans were worn with heavy boots, and the dark, open-necked shirt he had on exaggerated both his coloring and his stature. Broad shouldered, shirtsleeves rolled up over muscular forearms. He had large, masculine hands, and I could scarcely look away for wanting him to touch me.
“You came here for some Irish magic, didn’t you?”
I shrugged and smiled, trying to be nonchalant about his question. It sounded more like a come-on than a serious suggestion. But, yes, I had made the journey in the hope of some of Ireland’s magic rubbing off on me. Crammed in the queue of tourists, the magic seemed too far away.
Stepping across my path, he grinned. “An adventure, maybe?”
There was a speed and lightness about the way he moved. It was almost dance-like. He began to wend his way along the stepping-stones that made a path through the trees and bluebells. The trees had grown dense, and the smell of summer was heavy in the air under their canopy. I realized he was now leading me as we continued along the way. But we were within shouting distance of other people, and I felt safe with him.
“Yes, I suppose you're right.” The self-awareness I'd felt when he first spoke to me was shaping into something else, something that was making me bolder.
“Tell me, now. If you had three wishes, what would they be?”
I laughed softly. “Three wishes?”
“You’re on the Irish Myth and Magic tour, are you not?”
“Well, yes.” He must have seen me getting off the bus. Perhaps he worked here. Yes, he had the look of a caretaker, earthy and rugged.
He chuckled, and there was a ribald quality to the sound. “Did you want to kiss the Blarney?”
I was mesmerized by the way his mouth moved, slow and seductive, as he said that. He’d stepped closer, and my body responded. He locked eyes with me, demanding my response.
“Yes, I did want that.” A warm breeze moved in and wrapped itself around us as I spoke. I swayed, my senses suddenly filled with the scent and the atmosphere of the woodland.
“I’ve kissed the stone,” he said, his voice low, his breath warm on my face. “Kissing me would be just as good as kissing it yourself.”
He made me want him. Badly. Squeezing my thighs together, I nodded. “Maybe it would.”
My breath condensed in my chest as the space between us vanished, and his mouth brushed over mine. It was the subtlest of kisses, but it set free a wild thread of excitement — a thread that electrified my body and made my center clench and melt.
“Tell me your wishes,” he breathed, as he moved to kiss my ear lobe. His body was hard and demanding against mine, his breath hot on my skin
“Confidence,” I found myself responding, strangely intoxicated by his blatant approach.
He lifted his eyebrows suggestively, eyes twinkling as he assessed me. “Confidence to do what, exactly?”
There was something so immensely appealing about his naughty approach that I was affected by it. Well, I was affected by some damn thing, because I laughed and wrapped one hand round the back of his head, my fingers moving into his thick dark hair. “Confident enough to do this?”
I returned his kiss, savoring the way he moved against me when I did.
He held me tight against him, teased the tip of his tongue against mine and then thrust it deep into my mouth, moving it in and out in a direct suggestion of raunchy sex...
Photograph of Blarney Castle is on the Blarney Castle visitor site (where there are no promises about kisses or such like if you do visit, but you never know...;-)
