Hello, and a huge thank you to Delilah for hosting me! I’m KJ Charles, and my paranormal romance The Magpie Lord is just out with Samhain. The book is set in Victorian England and —
Excuse me? Victorian England? I came here for erotic romance!
Are you suggesting the Victorians aren’t sexy?
Bonnets? Top hats? Frilly bloomers on their piano legs? That is not sexy.
Did you know that Victorian women could go to the doctor for an orgasm?
True. Women suffering from ‘hysteria’, a catch-all diagnosis for being overwrought, emotionally unstable or (as we’d see it) frustrated, could go to the doctor, who would induce a ‘hysterical paroxysm’ to relieve the symptoms. Guess what a hysterical paroxysm is?
You are having a laugh.
Nope. The electric vibrator was invented because doctors complained of repetitive strain injuries to their hands. (‘How was work, dear?’ ‘Exhausting. I had to induce fourteen clitoral orgasms. My fingers are killing me.’ ‘That’s outrageous! You should complain to your boss!’)
Tell me more.
About the Femme de Voyage blow-up doll, perhaps? Or the Victorian obsession with spanking? Go on, ask your local library for a copy of Victorian bestsellers Lady Bumtickler’s Revels or The Whippingham Papers. Or, if you have your m/m kink on, try Sins of the Cities of the Plain, the earliest English gay porn, which includes your actual fan-fiction of a famous real-life transvestite and his noble husband…
All right, you’ve convinced me. The Victorians were as kinky as the rest of us. Carry on.
The Magpie Lord is an m/m paranormal romance, featuring Lord Crane, a smuggler turned earl, and magician Stephen Day, who has every reason to loathe Crane’s family. Stephen has a moral obligation to save Crane from a curse but he does not want to find himself in the devastatingly attractive nobleman’s bed – and in the excerpt below, he’s even ready to abuse his magical gifts to stop himself from giving in to temptation.
I hope you enjoy it! The Magpie Lord is out now with Samhain, and I’ve a free electronic copy to give away – please just comment, ensuring you leave an email address, for a chance to win. (Drawing closes Thursday!)
The shaman knelt before him in the moonlight, painfully close. At some point, Crane wasn’t sure when, he’d moved so that his arms were now resting on Crane’s thighs, warm and heavy. His hair glimmered dark copper in the cold light, and his caressing thumb was sending spangles of sensation up towards Crane’s elbow now.
Crane looked down at him. As if he’d felt the gaze, Stephen looked up, mouth slightly open, and his wide eyes met Crane’s for a long breathless moment.
Crane reached out with his free hand and brushed his thumb slowly over Stephen’s lips, pushing them gently apart, feeling his mouth move softly, opening, accepting the touch. His breath came fast against Crane’s hand. Crane’s need was suddenly, violently urgent after the night’s terror, and Stephen Day was kneeling before him, lips inviting, pupils dilated, a gift to be unwrapped. He pushed his thumb further into the warm mouth and felt a flicker of tongue against his skin, a tentative taste.
“Stephen,” said Crane softly, trying out the name.
Stephen tilted his head back a little. “I…I don’t…”
“Oh, you do.” Crane stroked his fingers possessively over the small chin. “You really do. Lovely boy.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” Stephen said weakly, and Crane’s lips curved, knowing that was surrender.
His hand closed on Stephen’s jaw, pulling him closer. “Come here. Unless you want to stay on your knees, of course,” he added, with a twitch of a brow, and something in the other man’s eyes went suddenly dark.
“Listen to me,” Stephen said. “I have been clearing the abreaction for the last few minutes. This has been dull and uneventful, and you’re keen to go in and do something more interesting than talk to me. I’m very boring and drab and unattractive, after all, and you’d be much happier talking to Mr. Merrick. You want to forget about me and go in, so you’re quite glad to hear that the abreaction has cleared.”
“Has it?” said Crane. “Oh, good. Can we go in?”
“Of course,” mumbled Stephen. He leaned backwards, shifting his bony elbows off Crane’s legs. The moonlight greyed his rather dull, mud-coloured eyes and nondescript features. He looked drawn and tense, almost distressed. Crane didn’t know why.
Please comment for a chance to win The Magpie Lord (or if you want to chat about Victorian kink!) Click on the cover to learn more about the story!