Get to know author Juliet Chastain
Hi, I'm Juliet Chastain, fashion photographer and writer of more or less naughty short stories. Actually, each story I write is a bit naughtier—i.e. has more and steamier sex—than the last.
My latest release is Making Waves, a short story in which passion combusts at sea-side, with hot and heavy love-making in the sand, in the ocean, and even in the bedroom. And in this particular twosome, the woman is older than the guy. I tend to have a little weakness for younger men myself—so I thought it would be fun to write a cougar series. Making Waves is the first one.
Are any of the characters like me? In some ways, yes. Nathalie is a shy fourth grade teacher who is washed up at the feet of a hot young surfer. I tend to be a little shy, and I was at one time (mercifully briefly for both school children and myself), a third grade teacher. While I have lived at the beach, I've never been washed up at the feet of anyone—not even a hot surfer, young or old.
It's fun to watch the surfers and so is occasionally exchanging a few friendly words with them. And yes, I'll admit to lusting after some of them. They're all so fit and good-looking. * Sighs * And they're very laid back and pleasant. All this floats my boat, but if you prefer a hard-driving type of guy, you're more likely to find him under a big umbrella with an i-pad, sunburn and an incipient potbelly.
This is how Making Waves begins:
The surfers call it the green room. A wave catches you. Down you go and around and around as though you were inside a washing machine. Not nice. I tumbled over and over, no idea of what was up or what was down, desperately holding my breath while what felt like gallons of seawater pumped painfully into my sinuses.
And then bang! I slammed head first into the shore and a pair of sun-tanned legs.
I lay stunned, my face on someone's foot and the rest of me on a bed of tiny prickly seashells.
A pair of hands pulled me to my feet as a masculine voice said, "Better get up before the next wave catches you." I couldn't have agreed more.
One quick glimpse of sparkling blue eyes before the next wave shoved me into him real up-close and personal. We rocked slightly, but thanks to the sturdy stance of my rescuer it didn't knock us over. Lucky, as I hadn't caught my breath yet
He turned us around, so the waves slammed into his back instead of mine as he danced me out of the water while I noisily sucked air, happy to know which end was up, glad to be alive.
I became conscious of being held tightly against a solid male body. A very solid, mostly naked, male body. I was under-dressed myself.
He released me, saying. "You're all safe now." I looked up, still a bit dazed, into a movie-star gorgeous face. Wide, sensual mouth, strong chin, dark straight brows, and heavy lashes, which—be still my beating heart—curled. To add to the effect, the low sun behind him made a halo of his damp, dark blond curls. I figured I'd drowned in the green room and gone directly to heaven, although not exactly the one they'd told me about in Sunday school. This heaven would be a whole lot more fun.
I'd love to know what you think of the older woman/younger man scenario. Do you have a strong preference for the opposite? Couldn’t care less as long as he is hot? Want a large—or a small or no—age difference?
Find Making Waves at Breathless Press
As a fashion photographer, Juliet Chastain creates scenarios with her cameras, as a writer, she pounds out stories on her keyboard. Just as she can make a visual story using models and clothes, so she can create a book out of a characters and ideas that pop into her head.
Juliet writes two kinds of short stories: Sweet and spicy (like Making Waves, The Captain and the Courtesan) for the romantic who likes some serious heat in a sweetly satisfying story; and erotica (Intruder, coming out next week) for those who prefer their naughty bits straight up and hot as hell.
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E-mail me at: Juliet@JulietChastain.com