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.
Like me on Facebook: http://facebook.com/julietchastain
Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/julietchastain
Subscribe to my mailing list: http://eepurl.com/Ihio1
Visit my website: www.JulietChastain.com
E-mail me at: Juliet@JulietChastain.com
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