Girls Will Be Girls by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985: #New Release

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Review:

I’ve reviewed some of Lucy’s books before here – she’s a great writer and one I always enjoy. Girls will be Girls is a collection of 6 sensually erotic tales about woman on woman loving. I loved them all. Lucy Felthouse writes perfectly formed short stories. They’re so full of detail, you quickly get a sense of the characters and they always have a yummy sex scene. What more could you ask for? It’s a very good collection of lesbian erotica. I would recommend them to anyone, but especially those readers who are new to the genre as these are such a great example of erotic short stories.

Blurb:

Six sexy Sapphic tales from the pen of popular lesbian erotica author, Lucy Felthouse.

Christmas cheer with colleagues, a driving disaster turned good, hot older women, girls inuniform, gorgeous gardeners and naughty fun in a changing cubicle… this collection containsa variety of erotic tales sure to tickle your fancy.

Available to buy exclusively from Amazon, and to read as part of the Kindle Unlimited programme: http://mybook.to/girlswillbegirls (universal Amazon link)

Add to your Goodreads shelves: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26218151-girls-will-be-girls

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Excerpt:

She was now mere inches away, but the thickness of the bushes meant she could still only see the boots and now a bit more of the green trousers. Stepping onto the mud, she crouched down beside the feet, carefully pushing the foliage aside so she could see what the hell was going on, and figure out what she was going to do about it.

The view opened up, and Verity, far from seeing a helpless person lying on the soil, was presented with a green-clad arse reversing hurriedly in her direction!

“Hey!” she said, letting go of the branches and shifting back so abruptly she ended up on her own arse on the grass. “Be careful! Are you all right?”

As the body continued emerging, Verity slowly came to realise her mistake. Dirt-covered trousers, a filthy black waterproof coat, gloved hands, and a head topped with a floppy hat were soon visible. Slim white cables trailing from each ear and disappearing into the collar of the coat explained why she hadn’t been heard calling out, or received a response.

This woman hadn’t hurt herself. She was a fucking gardener!

Frozen in her uncomfortable position, Verity wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Perhaps as revenge for her landing on it so hard. But she had no such luck.

Instead, she heard, “What on earth are you doing down there? Are you all right?”

Struck dumb, Verity nodded and took the now glove-free hand that was offered to her, allowing the other woman to pull her up off the grass. “I—I’m fine,” she finally forced out, breaking the brief eye contact and making a show of brushing herself down, though it was probably only her bottom that was dirty. Her cheeks blazed, and she took a step back, hoping to beat a hasty retreat.

“Well, I’m glad. But it still doesn’t explain what you were doing down there.” The ear buds now hung down the woman’s front, and she was apparently poised, awaiting a reply.

Verity shook her head. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Narrowing her eyes, the gardener said, “Try me.”

Christ. Just to add insult to injury, it seemed she was now suspected of some kind of wrongdoing, too! “I—I was over there,” she pointed to where she’d come from, “and I saw your wellies poking out from the bushes. I panicked because I thought someone had fallen and hurt themselves. I came over to try and help. I did call out to you, to see if you were all right. But all I could see was the boots and a little bit of your trousers. I had no idea what was going on. Much less that you were the bloody gardener and remained oblivious to what I was up to because you had headphones in! I crouched down and pushed the bushes aside so I could see you better, and the next thing I know you’re shuffling back towards me. I shifted out of the way and ended up tumbling over on my bum.”

It seemed her story was too amusing to be anything but true, because the gardener grinned widely, then clapped a hand over her mouth momentarily. “I’m so sorry,” she then said, “I didn’t hear you, honestly. But I guess I can see why you thought that. Thank you so much for coming to check on me, but it really wasn’t necessary. All I was doing was fighting with a particularly vicious weed.” She pointed down to an uprooted plant at her feet, then widened her eyes. “Are you all right? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Twisting to try and look at her bottom, Verity brushed again at the seat of her jeans.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you. Just a bit of muck and grass stains, I think. Nothing that won’t come out in the washing machine.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad. I feel bad enough as it is without thinking you’ve hurt yourself or ruined your clothes, too.”

“No, I’m good. And I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Silence hung between them for a few moments. Then Verity took another step back. “Right, well, I’d better get going, anyway. Nice to meet you.” She turned to go, but the other woman’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Hey, wait. No need to rush off. I’m just about to go on my tea break. Want to join me? Perhaps a brew will make up for it?” Her green eyes—apt, for a gardener, Verity thought—sparkled with humour and intelligence, and for the first time, Verity realised that, underneath the grubby gardening gear and large hat was a very attractive woman.

Still, an excuse was on the tip of her tongue—she had come here to be alone, after all—but fate intervened. Or the British weather did, anyway. A handful of fat raindrops fell onto her, followed by a few more. Then, the heavens truly opened.

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Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of sub genres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Reviews: ‘Not Her Type’ and ‘Take Control’ by Kay Jaybee

Kay Jaybee has written over 70 short stories and 14 solo publications, so if you’re new to Kay and you like these books, you’ve got a huge back catalogue to read. She’s well known for ‘The Perfect Submissive’ trilogy (Xcite) and is one eighth of the brilliant Brit Babes. Her writing has a distinctly British feel to it, so expect a bunch of sexy ‘arses’ and ‘bottoms’ rather than ‘asses’ and ‘butts’!

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Not Her Type is a classic tale of opposites who attract. Jenny is a well educated woman who has secluded herself from the world after a series of difficult relationships; John is a rough around the edges courier who delivers her DVDs every week (I want that service *cough*). They begin the story as friends, but the story rapidly becomes about their sexual explorations.

Kay Jaybee isn’t shy about exploring a wide variety of kinks and pushing some boundaries. Not Her Type has M/F, M/F/F and F/F scenes; there’s some light bondage and spanking; masturbating in public; and one particular kink that will probably not be everyone’s cup of tea. I had a moment where I thought, “did he really just say he was going to do that?!” But Jaybee doesn’t draw the scene out, so even though it’s not my thing, it didn’t really bother me.

The sex is pretty raw and basically a series of short, hard fucks. I never felt like I connected emotionally with the characters. I want that most of the time when I read erotica, but sometimes I’m happy to just go with the physical – this was one of those times. The sex was definitely hot and there was more than one scene that got me all tingly. The sheer desperation and urgency they feel for each other is a turn on in itself.

Jenny and John’s relationship raises the question: is sex alone ever enough? The sex she’s having with John rapidly takes over Jenny’s life to the point where she can think of little else.

She’s confused about her sexuality, she’s confused about John. The sex is the only thing that makes sense. This book is heavy on the sex and light on story, but to be honest I got all that I needed from the plot and it drives the book forward to a more than satisfactory ending. I liked the ending and thought it was pretty realistic considering the characters thoughts and actions throughout.

Overall, I enjoyed Not Her Type it’s a hot piece of erotica that does what it intends to. I am very glad that Kay Jaybee has such a fertile imagination.

Personally, Christmas wrapping paper will never seem quite so innocent again.

4 stars – recommended read

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Take Control has five short imaginative stories catering to all sorts of kinks. They are primarily about dominance and submission, but they also explore other elements of erotic play.

Much to my delight, Kay Jaybee seems to be a big fan of multiple partner scenes: making ‘Dinner With Tess’ and ‘Staged’ my favourite stories in this collection.

Dinner With Tess’ is a bisexual menage (my favourite kind) and it is definitely hot. I wanted more M / M action which was a bit of an unfulfilled tease, but I guess it’s the wrong collection of stories for that particular kink. It was very enjoyable none the less.

There are a couple of stories that are more sensual, ‘Deluged’ and ‘The Necklace’ (which is also a menage). These were well written with evocative language. I felt every drop of water and sting of hail on Beth’s skin and it made me long for a summer thunderstorm.

The Experiment’ is a voyeur’s delight which ends with a nice surprise.

A quick enjoyable read; easy to pick up and put down whenever the urge may take you.

4 stars – recommended read

I received these books from the publisher in exchange for an honest and fair review.

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If you’re looking for other authors of erotica check out my Book Recommendations page.