Oh my, I'm late...

...For a very important date. The announcement of my Sunday Snog winner, in fact. I went off on a weekend away in deepest, darkest northern England and forgot that this would stop me picking my winner. Even my mobile signal was patchy, although the view of the Milky Way at night was pretty damn clear. 

I know you're all dying to know what highly scientific method I used to pick a winner. Well, I wrote all the names in biro on the flesh of a willing sex slave before beating him to see which one looked the reddest. Oh, no, I just made that up. I wrote all the names on little bits of paper, fed them into a willing sex slave's mouth, then waited to see which one was still legible when he spat them out. Oh, no, that was just a dream. I got someone to wank over the bits of paper and decided which got the directest hit... Ah, no again. I put the bits of paper in my teapot, shook them up a bit and pulled one out whilst looking in the opposite direction and humming a little fanfare sort of noise. Yes, that would be it. I'm  not sure where the fanfare came from. But I can never think of teapots again without thinking about Slave Nano's reading at this year's Smut by the Sea event. He read this excerpt out to us, shared here on Giselle Renarde's blog, the unabridged, uncensored and highly amusing version. 

Anyway, fanfare please... The winner is Anonymous. Ha, that's disappointed you all, hasn't it? But thank you to Anonymous, who said 'I've been wanting to read this anthology!' for your comment. Your wish is about to come true via the modern wonder of email. Hope you enjoy it. 

Incidentally, the 100th Sunday Snog event has raised £234.72 for Medecins San Frontieres, smashing the £100 target to smithereens. (Now there's a word.) A big thank you to Victoria Blisse for organising it all.

100th Sunday Snog!

Well, this may be my first Sunday snog, but it’s Victoria Blisse’s 100^th. Lucky her. And to celebrate, she’s raising some money for charity and organising a bumper giveaway. She’s already raised more than a hundred quid for Medecins Sans Frontieres and she’s rounded up dozens of authors to give away some freebies on their blogs.

I’m going to give away an ebook copy of Smut by the Sea Volume 2. Comment on this post for your chance to win. I’ll use some highly scientific method to pick a winner if I actually get more than one commenter! You’ve got until midnight on September 27^th to enter. And if you’d like to go off and have a chance of winning dozens more prizes, then all the authors taking part are listed on Victoria’s Blisse Kiss page.

This snog is taken from my story in Smut by the Sea Vol 2, Stuck on the Edge. Gareth and Claire's last paddle in the sea before they’re meant to be going home from their little island hideaway is getting a little out of hand:

Gareth swam up beside me, the arms of his t-shirt wrapping round his biceps. I put my feet down, feeling soft sand between my toes instead of shingle out this deep, and let him get his arms around me. You’d think I might have been getting used to the temperature by now, but in fact I felt like my lips might be turning blue. He kissed them. And somehow his lips were still warm. As mine melted against his, it felt like the rest of my body was a marble statue. Only my lips were real, flesh and blood, pulsing with heat. His tongue was hot too. He darted it out and I opened my mouth to let him in. My throat felt tight and deep within my frozen belly a little spark went pop.

I may have moaned a little. He drew back and said, “You did once tell me you fancied sex in the sea. And somehow we’ve never got round to it.”

“Are you kidding me? Sex? Here? Now?” My voice rose in pitch until I was sure it was audible only to bats. I was shaking and my mind was already wondering how long it would take for Gareth to run to the warden’s cabin, for the warden to radio for help, for a helicopter to arrive, winch me up and transport me to the nearest hospital to be treated for hypothermia. And frostbite. And crazy, irrational lust. My nipples were already rock hard because of the cold, but now they were tingling too. Because of the lust.