A solo holiday in rural France improves dramatically when artist Harriet Sommers meets Jean-Jacques, a gorgeous gardener with a passion for spanking.
A relaxing break in rural France becomes a working holiday when artist Harriet Sommers accepts a last-minute commission to illustrate a new edition of the Kama Sutra. Unfortunately, Harriet’s love life is so empty she can scarcely remember what naked people do together, and she’s fresh out of creative juice.
Help arrives when a mysterious, muscular Frenchman appears in the garden of her holiday home, offering to remove his clothes. Before long, Harriet and Jean-Jacques are showing the Kama Sutra a thing or two. But is this just a holiday fling? Or can a French fancy last longer?
Reader Advisory: This book contains mild BDSM.
General Release Date: 16th June 2015
Harriet’s holiday was already going wrong, and her plane hadn’t even left the tarmac.
“Sweetie,” said Cressida into her ear. “Try and see it as a working holiday.”
Harriet cursed herself for having answered her phone. “But it’s meant to be a rural retreat,” she said. “I’m stressed, remember?”
“Darling, think of your career!” enthused Cressida. “And mine. The agency hasn’t had a lucky break for years. If we win this tender, we’ll be the talk of the town. The commissions will come pouring in and everyone will be wanting you! Your work! Your talent, and your perfect, perfect illustrations. Please say yes.”
Harriet gazed out of the little rain-streaked window to the gray runway ahead and choked back a sob. All the pressures of work were racing back to her, just as she was on the brink of escaping. Would she ever get any peace? “But my holiday,” she said wearily.
“Sweets,” said Cressida. “After this, you’ll be able to afford dozens of holidays. Proper holidays taken twice a year in five star hotels, not some random DIY affair in the arse-end of France.”
A lump ached in Harriet’s throat. “It’s in the Bordeaux region,” she replied. “A beautiful gîte in a picturesque village.”
“Ah, whatevs.”
Harriet drew a deep breath, determined not to crumble. “Isn’t there someone else who can take it on?”
“Oh, Harry, I’ve racked my brains and I can’t think of anyone else who’s as…brave as you.”
As stupid as, more like, thought Harriet.
“I can arrange to have anything sent out to you,” continued Cressida. “Or if you’re inspired and want to get cracking as soon as you arrive, you can buy supplies from the local art shop and invoice me.”
“I have to end this call,” said Harriet, not trusting herself to stay strong and decline the work in the face of Cressida’s notorious persistence. “We’re about to take off. The flight attendant’s giving me funny looks.”
“Is he cute?”
Harriet repressed a sigh of exasperation. “I imagine,” she said through clenched teeth, “he bats for the other side.”
“Don’t give up, hun!” said Cressida. “He might have a normal brother. You’ll find someone one day! Is this a weight-loss holiday?”
Harriet wrapped her cardigan around her phone, hunching over to speak into it. “You’ve gone faint, Cress. Can you hear me? Hello? Cressida?”
“I’ll email you the deets,” yelled Cressida. “The Kama Sutra. Just a few drawings of people…doing it.”
“Hello?” said Harriet into her cardigan. “Can’t hear—”
“Fucking!” came Cressida’s voice through the lambswool. “People fucking!”
Harriet glanced nervously at the elderly woman in the next seat. “Crrrrghh! Line’s breaking up. You there, Cress? Can’t hear you.”
“You should get a pet!” hollered Cressida. “They’re good for stress! Very calming!”
Harriet pressed off her phone and sank back into her seat, her body slumping in relief as she exhaled.
The flight attendant leaned toward her with a dazzling white smile. “Seatbelt, please.”
Harriet tugged and clicked the belt into place. The man nodded in appreciation and leaned a little closer.
“You’re right, darling,” he said. “You’re not my type at all. But they say there’s someone for everyone, don’t they? Good luck. Bon voyage!”
Dolly Watt has been spinning saucy stories in her head for over a decade but has only recently sat down at a keyboard and allowed her imagination to run riot. And oh boy, does it run!
Dolly (Dolores for long) lives in rural Sussex with her handsome husband, their two kids, and a growing menagerie of pets in a house she describes as ‘shabby chic’ in the hope of convincing herself it doesn’t resemble an explosion at a jumble sale.
Dolly loves writing character-driven erotic romance with a side order of kink and laughter.
Dolly is working on a number of short stories while the house falls down around her, and the children turn feral.
Reviewed by Wicked Reads
What a great little tale – perfect bedtime reading – and so funny too. The Britishness of Harriet and the Frenchness of JJ match perfectly in this little insight into life in the French countryside...
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