Hot new F/F from Lucy Felthouse!
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 in uniform, gorgeous gardeners and naughty fun in
a changing cubicle… this collection contains a 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.
Add to your Goodreads shelves.
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.
Author
Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and
erotic romance in a variety of subgenres 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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