A Ride to Remember

My first collection of my own work is now out from Lethe Press. A Ride to Remember consists of thirteen lesbian erotica stories, two of them brand new, and several published so long ago in such hard-to-find paces that you're not likely to have come across them. At least four of them are arguably science fiction/fantasy, linking me to my speculative fiction roots. Here's a blurb from Catherine Lundoff, Goldie Award-winning author of Night's Kiss and Crave (which you really should check out if you haven't already.)

"Green’s fiction serves up the sensual and hot in this new collection of some of her favorite erotic stories. Unconventional protagonists, unusual locations and beautifully crafted prose make for an unforgettable read that will stay with you long after you finish the book. Amongst my favorites are the linked stories “To Remember You By” and “Alternate Lives” about the truncated relationship between a woman pilot and a nurse who meet during WWII, then again many years later when their lives have taken different turns. I would love to spend more time with these characters, as well as some of Green’s other pairings. A Ride to Remember has earned a place on my favorites shelf."

http://www.amazon.com/Ride-Remember-Other-Erotic-Tales/dp/1590213203/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1303271048&sr=1-2

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/53480

Bonus Lesbian Cop Story

As promised, here's a bonus story about a lesbian cop, published long ago and posted more recently on the Royal Academy of Bards, so many of you may have seen it already.

Don't miss the additional free lesbian cop story posted on 9/25/13.

Healing

Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the hemlock branches. An hour ago it had blazed over the water-sculpted granite, and radiant heat still penetrated into places I had thought would never be warm again. My body adjusted to the stone's smooth contours and felt, for a while at least, at peace.

Something moved among the trees on the bank above. I kept my eyes closed, trying to block out everything but the ripple of water and the scent of spruce and balsam. Far below, where the stream leapt downward in the series of falls and slides known as Diana's Baths, there were swarms of vacationers, but they seldom climbed up as far as this gentler sweep of stone and pool. I'd hoped, foolishly, for solitude.

Someone stood there, watching. Move on, damnit, I thought, hating the unfamiliar sense of vulnerability, the suppressed jerk of my hand toward a gun that wasn't there. Maybe the Lieutenant was right. Maybe I really wasn't ready to get back into uniform.

Maybe I was hallucinating being watched.

I sat up abruptly. A hemlock branch twitched, and through its feathery needles a pair of bright eyes met my challenge. A child, I thought, glimpsing tousled russet curls and a face like a mischievous kitten. Then she moved into clearer view, and I got a good look at a body that could have held its own on one of those TV beach shows. So, for that matter, could her bikini.

She looked me over just as frankly. "Hi there," she said throatily. "I think I've got myself lost."

Eye candy or not, I resented the intrusion. "Well, there's upstream, and there's downstream. Take your pick."

"They both sound so good, I can't decide!" Her glance moved deliberately from my face over my body down to the long, semi-healed scar running from mid-thigh up under my cut-off jeans. The scar didn't seem to startle her a bit. I began to suspect a plot.

Annabeth Leong on "A Prayer Before Bed"

The final blog tour post today, and it blows me away. Annabeth Leong nails the way erotica can have depth and complexity and reveal its characters in profound ways. I could never have said it as well. Don't miss this one.
http://www.annabethleong@blogspot.com

[Tomorrow I'll post a previously published cop story of mine that wan't in the book.]

RV Raiment on "Chapel Street Blue"

[For this anthology I expected to get stories inspired by TV cop shows, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to use any, but RV Raiment’s tribute to the women of the classics I recall so vividly really blew me away with its blend of grit and lyricism.]

RV Raiment on "Chapel Street Blue"

This is the first time I’ve had the honour of appearing in one of

Sacchi’s books, and it is a very real pleasure. I find myself

snuggled between the covers with some very interesting and stimulating

writers, and it’s a pretty fine cover too.

So why ‘Lesbian Cops’? And why ‘Chapel Street Blue’?

Sacchi speculates a link with Hill Street Blues and isn’t too far off

the mark. NYPD Blue is in there somewhere, and no doubt other ‘Blue’

named books and series. And NYPD was controversially ‘blue’ in that

other respect too. Naked bodies – or the US TV versions of them –

abounded, and NYPD Blue went so far as to flash, I think, Jimmy Smits’

bottom on one occasion. What a shock it was to discover that not all

American males sleep and have sex in shorts after all.

‘Hill Street Blues’ had Robin, Belcher’s petite, dark girlfriend. Oh

how I lusted those many years ago. And the tall blonde sergeant,

Lucy. Those long, long legs…

Then ‘Homicide, Life on the Street’ and another blonde sergeant, but a

detective, played by Melissa Leo, only seen in uniform on too-rare

ceremonial occasions, and NYPD’s delightful selection of nubile and

delicious officers and detectives.

Nubile and delicious? And I’m talking about cops? Yes, but entirely

without disrespect.

I admire cops. I admire anyone who has the guts to do, day in and day

out, the stuff that most of us would never dare to do. And female

cops demonstrate the equality that has always been fundamental to my

perception of women – they are at the very least as strong, as clever,

as courageous and simply as fine as any man could ever be. Such are

the women I choose to write about.

Even my cop’s lover, former denizen of the underworld, is a creation I

respect and a woman I would respect in real life. Few of us make

truly ‘free’ choices, and the choices of some of those society affects

to despise often require no little courage.

I love the paradox of the woman in uniform – police or military. Dressed in symbols of power and authority which also mark

them out as placing themselves consciously and conscientiously in

danger, the bodies beneath seem almost engineered for just the

opposite. The female body speaks, somehow, in every curve and line,

of qualities of nurturing, gentleness and beauty. It is there at

every age and in every conformation of the female body, yet the female

mind and spirit outweighs it.

Several times while writing this I have been drawn to a conclusion I

have sought, on some level, to avoid, and yet I think I cannot. It

really is as if female courage is somehow more overwhelming, more

inspiring, than that of men, whilst it is that of men which gains the

most attention.

So I love and admire my women in uniform, and I salute them, here, in

the only way I know how.

R V Raiment

Excerpt from one of the grittier bits, and I do mean grittier:

“I hate Chapel Street.” Sally’s voice is sibilant with a darker passion than our own.

“I know.”

“Just routine stuff, of course. Caspar and Weiner were there from Homicide. Izzy Morgenstein and di Matteo called it in.”

“And the vic?”

“Some kid called Kassie. Short for Kassandra, spelled with a K.”

“Black?” “Yeah.” “Kassie who?” “Whitney.”

I try to remember, but the name means nothing to me.

Lynn Mixon Maps the Writing of Healing Hands

The semi-penultimate day of the blog tour! Lynn Mixon describes the process of building the story of a U.S. Marshall and a card sharp under the Witness Protection program.
lynnmixon.com

Teresa Noelle Roberts on Respecting the "Dress Uniform"

[In today's blog Teresa Noelle Roberts talks about her story, in which you discover (when you read the whole thing) how to have your kink and eat it too, while still respecting the uniform.]

Teresa Noelle Roberts here, and I’m thrilled to have a story in Lesbian Cops. It’s always a pleasure to work with Sacchi, and it’s doubly a pleasure to find my own work snuggling up to the brave and incredibly hot women in uniform (and friends) depicted by my fellow contributors. But I almost didn’t come up with a story for this anthology.

Usually when Sacchi wants me to submit something to her, I jump. (Yes, that’s supposed to sound both silly and suggestive. If you expect me to play this all vanilla and prim, you’ve got me confused with some other author.) I hesitated a bit over Lesbian Cops¸ though, because the first few stories that came to mind involved uniform fetishes. For one, I figured a lot of people would take that approach and unless I had a really clever twist, it would be hard to stand out. For another, I don’t find police uniforms sexy.

I’m married to someone in law enforcement. It would certainly be handy if I were kinky for uniforms. But my beloved is a humane officer, like the “animal cops” from that Animal Planet series. His uniforms are utilitarian and rather ugly—but at least they’re highly washable. That’s key in his line of work. Every time I do laundry, I do an entire load of uniforms that smell like dog and worse—unless he’s come home bloody and/or skunked, in which case he’s kind enough to deal with the mess himself.

Can you say “not sexy”?

I started a piece involving a cop and a dog trainer, the cop’s profession being only a tiny piece of the story, then discovered that my frequent co-author Dayle Dermatis/Andrea Dale was working on a story in which a dog played a key role. Quite a different story than what I’d had in mind, as it turns out, but since I knew there was already one dog-related piece in progress for Lesbian Cops, one that I was (correctly) confident would be wonderful, I decided to table the slightly kinky dog trainer. (I’m sure she’ll be back, though perhaps not with a lesbian cop as her partner in mischief.)

But that left me without a story idea and I was starting to get frantic.

When I was tearing my hair out, I remembered a firefighter friend telling me how a would-be girlfriend got pouty because my friend wouldn’t wear her dress uniform to a fetish event and couldn’t understand that it was, from my friend’s point of view, both a risky career move and fetishizing something she took seriously.

I don’t think that real-life relationship got too far.

But what if I gave that story a happy ending? I could incorporate my friend’s seriousness, my own feelings about uniforms being work clothes, conflict, tenderness, and good old-fashioned ingenuity, all mixed together as facets of a healthy, growing relationship. And I could weave in plenty of kinky while I was at it, because it’s just not a Teresa Noelle Roberts story if no one gets spanked or tied up.

But no dogs. Because dogs and kink don’t mix (and if they do in your world, please keep it to yourself. Like I said, I’m married to a humane officer and I’m pretty sure that would be illegal.)

And thus “Dress Uniform” was born.

Here’s a taste—slightly suggestive, but also showing something of the characters:

“Are you kidding? I can’t wear my uniform to the Fetish Fair!” I smiled as I said it, though, because Lisette was wheedling like a kid who wanted candy, and it was pretty damn adorable. Lisette looks like an anime girl, all big eyes, big smile and big breasts, and she was using all three of those attributes to good effect. Usually when she makes her eyes wide, smiles eagerly and poses so I can’t help but look at her cleavage, I’ll give in to just about anything she wants, especially if she’s also wearing a short schoolgirl skirt or cat ears at the time.

This time I couldn’t afford to give in. “I’d get in serious trouble if the Chief found out. Besides, they’ll have officers doing security detail. I don’t want any confusion, especially if God forbid there actually is a problem.” Not that I expected problems. The kink community may lead edgy sex lives, but we tend to be well-behaved in public, if only to avoid anyone asking if dressing your lover up in a pony harness violates some obscure local ordinance. Whenever you get a few thousand people together, though, there’s a potential for weirdness. Especially at a downtown convention center, where someone who thinks they’re on a mission from God to get rid of pervs could pay their $20 and walk right in to cause trouble.

“How about your dress uniform? No one would get confused then.”

I winced.

I’d just met Lisette the last time I had to haul out the dress uniform. I hadn’t known the officer who’d been killed. He’d been from a different precinct and we’d never run into each other on a detail or a Police Benevolent Association benefit. But that doesn’t matter when one of your own buys it. You go to the funeral in your dress uniform and you’re part of a strong wall of blue for the poor bastard’s family and you hope you don’t have to put on that uniform again for a long, long time—and that no one ever has to put it on for you until you die of old age.

Joe Morrissey had died less than four months ago. It was way too soon to put that uniform on for anything less than the president coming to our town and needing a police escort. Certainly not to gratify the whim of a lover. A uniform that still had a mass card in the pocket from a fellow officer’s funeral wasn’t sexy.

I didn’t say a word, but I’m not as tough as I like to pretend I am, because my eyes got misty at the memory. Within a second, Lisette dropped her cutesy face and was holding me. “Sorry, Barb. I wasn’t thinking. That was a bad idea.”

Elizabeth Coldwell's Lesbian Cops Blog, with Angie!

Don't miss todays Lesbian Cops blog from Elizabeth Coldwell. Steamy goodness on the dominant side of policewomen, with extra bonus Angie Dickinson pic!

elizabethcoldwell.wordpress.com