By
Cheyenne Blue (Guest Blogger)
Thank
you, Lisabet, for once again hosting me on your blog. I’m happy to
be back here.
I’m
sitting here, writing this, with my leg propped on a carton of wine,
an ice pack on my knee, and painkillers coursing through my blood—I
had a minor (if painful) knee operation today. However, the thing
uppermost in my mind right now is that enforced rest=more
writing/editing time!
Time
to write some shorts for anthology calls that I’m just itching to
submit to. Time to read the many diverse submissions that have come
in for my own anthology call, an anthology of first experiences with
a lesbian theme that will be out later this year from Ladylit. Time
to get into editing mode, not only for the anthology, but also for a
novel I’ll be editing for Harper Bliss very soon. And time (I
hope) to work on my novella-turning-into-a-novel that really has my
fingers twitching to write.
Now
all I need is a slave to bring me coffee or wine at regular
intervals, feed me choice morsels, and bring me ice packs on demand
(Dream on, Cheyenne!) Oh, and a cat. A furry little companion to
snuggle with is always welcome.
I
also have a new mini-anthology out, which I hope highlights some of
my own diversity of writing. Blue Woman Stories Volume III:
collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue, like Volumes I and
II, contains five of my previously published stories spanning the
decade and a half that I’ve been published. They are all lesbian,
they are all erotic, they all have an element of romance, some more
than others, but although they all fall into the simple
girl-meets-girl category of storytelling, I think they are all very
different from each other.
In
A Story About Sarah, Melly tells the reader about her lover,
the only other girl in a remote mining camp in outback Australia.
She tells the story of their life and their love. Two of the other
four stories are more transient encounters. In Carrowkeel, a
tourist meets a New Age hippie in a prehistoric tomb in Ireland, in
the second, Irish Abroad, an Irish tourist alone in Las Vegas
has the chance to reinvent herself to a tough biker dyke. The
remaining two stories catalog the start of relationships: an
experienced nurse takes a student under her wing in Nurse Joan,
and in Run, Jo, Run two women fall in love through their
mutual passion of fell running.
I
hope you enjoy this collection. Here's an excerpt from Irish Abroad to give you a taste of what awaits you.
* * * *
Outside,
the heat hit her as if someone had opened the oven door. After the
dim cacophony of the casino, the sunlight lasered her retinas.
Sweating pink tourists like herself passed in an endless parade, but
every so often, there was what had to be a local, dressed in boot-cut
Levis and western boots. Ros wished for that level of effortless
assimilation into America.
Traffic
crawled along the Strip: black limos with smoky windows, buses, and
ordinary cars. And, weaving easily between the snarl of cars, was a
rider on a shiny blue bike. The sunlight reflected off of the
chrome, and the throb of the big engine underlay the whine of cars
like a bass guitar. Ros paused to watch. Now that would be a grand
memory for her holiday. Something to tell the girls back in Dublin.
Maybe she could hire one tomorrow, ride out into the desert, and find
a bar, a dark hole-in-the-corner type bar, straight out of a
dime-novel western. Somewhere she could swagger in and order a cold
one, open the bottle with her teeth and down it in one long swallow.
Right.
And maybe she was coming down with heatstroke already. She took a
look at herself, at the flippy mini skirt and flip-flops, at her
fussy tee shirt that simply screamed "Irish gombeen abroad".
She'd passed a boutique attached to one of the casinos a while back.
Without stopping to reconsider, she wheeled around and headed that
way. At least she could look the part.
The
next day, head pounding after too many margaritas that weren't
watered down, thanks to a judicious bribe to a cheery cocktail
waitress, she exited onto the Strip in her new finery. Boot-cut
jeans, so tight she'd likely split her difference if she sat down.
The seam bit into her cunt and she guessed that her pussy lips were
clearly outlined, under the tight denim. A check shirt, tight over
her flabby abs and straining at the bust. And of course, a hat. A
black one, with a studded hat band. She'd gone surreptitiously out
to the hotel patio and scooped dirt from the garden, rubbing a light
layer of it into the hat to soften its pristine look.
Confidently,
she paraded the Strip, the new boots with their curved heels pushing
her into a rolling gait. So that was why cowgirls walked the way
they did. She heard the bike before she saw it. Again, that throaty
throb of the engine, a lazy tickover as the rider threaded a way
through the traffic. This time the bike came nearer, and Ros could
see lean brown arms, big square-cut hands, and blunt fingernails. No
helmet. The rider's short brown hair was plastered to her head,
secured down by a red bandana around her forehead. The profile was
strong and unmistakably female.
With
a thrill, Ros saw the rider pull into the curb a few yards in front
of her. The bike gleamed like a deep river of blue and chrome, not a
sports bike, not a lowrider, simply a sleek speed machine, something
she'd always dreamed of riding. There weren't many like that in
Ireland.
Before
she could lose her nerve, she strode over and tapped the rider on the
shoulder.
"Great
bike," she offered. "I saw you yesterday." She
squinted at the symbol on the tank. "An Indian? I've never
ridden one of those."
The
woman turned to face her, and Ros saw amused blue eyes in a
weather-beaten face. Laughter lines radiated out from those eyes,
and there were fine smoker's lines around her mouth.
"You
ride?"
"Indeed.
I have a Norton back in Ireland."
"Good
Brit bike," the stranger offered.
Blue
eyes raked up her body, lingering on the way her buttons didn't quite
meet over her breasts. Then their eyes glanced and held. The
amusement faded, as a connection strung between them, a ping of
attraction. For a moment, the buzz of the Strip faded away, and
there was only this woman. And her bike.
"Maybe
you know if there's somewhere around here I can hire a bike? I'm on
holiday and I miss mine. Be grand to see some of the scenery too."
The
stranger pondered. "There's a Honda dealer out on Tropicana
Avenue. Maybe they hire. Or do you want a Harley like they all do?"
Ros
moved closer, her confidence soaring from the new clothes and the
look of appreciation on the older woman's face. She met her eyes
firmly. "I want what you have." One white hand ran
caressingly over the tank, down where it disappeared between lean
thighs.
The
woman stuck out a hand. "I'm Tash. Hop on, I'll take you out
there. They don't make Indians any more, but we'll find you
something."
* * * *
Blue
Woman Stories Volume III: collected lesbian erotica of Cheyenne Blue
is available from the following places:
Direct
from Ladylit
http://www.ladylit.com/books/blue-woman-stories-volume-three-by-cheyenne-blue/
Amazon
US http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VMZOA7Q/
Amazon
UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00VMZOA7Q/
Amazon
CA http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00VMZOA7Q/
Amazon
DE http://www.amazon.de/dp/B00VMZOA7Q/
Amazon
AUS http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00VMZOA7Q/
Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/532069
ITunes
US
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/blue-woman-stories-volume-3/id982228203?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
ITunes
UK
https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/blue-woman-stories-volume-3/id982228203?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
Cheyenne
Blue’s
erotic fiction has been included in over 90 erotic anthologies since
2000, including Best
Lesbian Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica, Sweat, Bossy, and
Wild Girls, Wild Nights.
She is the editor of Forbidden
Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire
(Ladylit). Her collected lesbian short fiction is published by
Ladylit as Blue
Woman Stories
– volumes 1 to 3, with more to come. Under her own name she has
written travel books and articles, and edited anthologies of local
writing in Ireland. She has lived in the U.K., Ireland, Colorado, and
Switzerland, but now writes, runs, makes bread and cheese and drinks
wine by the beach in Queensland, Australia. Check out her blog at
www.cheyenneblue.com,
on
Twitter at IamCheyenneBlue and on Goodreads at
https://www.goodreads.com/CheyenneBlue
[You can read my review of Cheyenne's first volume of Blue Woman Stories here. ~Lisabet]
4 comments:
Hello, Cheyenne!
I hope your knee is healing well. And yes, enforced quiet sometimes has its positive aspects.
BWS 2 and 3 are both on my tablet, and I'm looking forward to digging in.
Hugs to you!
Thanks for this, Lisabet and Cheyenne! I will throw in a hearty endorsement of Run, Jo, Run, which stands out in my memory of Girls Who Score (one of my favorite anthologies of all time—though I feel like I bestow that accolade rather liberally).
I hope you feel better soon! ::Runs to obtain book::
Thank you again for hosting me, Lisabet. I always love being here on your blog. I hope you enjoy BWS 2 and 3.
Thanks, Annabeth. I'm glad you enjoyed Run, Jo, Run. I'm certainly with you in my enjoyment of a good sports story. GWS was one of my favorite anthologies as well. So many very, very good stories included in that one.
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