What inspires you?

Everything. No, really. I find inspiration in the strangest places. I got an idea for a romance novel whilst watching Pointless the other Evening. I get idea on the bus, just looking out on what's around me. Signs can inspire, the look on a person's face, an item of clothing -well you get the picture. Nothing and nobody is safe!

Do you ever compare yourself to other authors and feel like you're lacking? And if so, how do you overcome that feeling of being not good enough?

Oh, do I. I was reading Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere recently and there were lines and plot turns that had me nigh-on weeping with Jealousy. Same happened when I read Siren by Tiffany Reisz, such a fab story, dripping with erotica and with amazing characters I totally fell in love with.

How do I get over not feeling good enough? I suppose I don't, I always know I can do better but I know people like what I write and I'm learning more and more about my craft every day, so I just plod on because if I gave up every time someone else was better than me at something, I'd never do anything!

How do you feel when it comes time to end the story? Sad? Happy? Relieved?

Usually I feel a mixture of happiness and sadness. I'm happy to have the conclusion to the story but if it's been a fab read I'll be upset that there's no more to read! If the book I read was particularly bad I'll feel relief but I tend not to finish a bad book, I'm inclined to give up if I'm just not getting it.  It's such a bittersweet experience finishing a book, isn't it?

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A New Release from Victoria Blisse... Vanilla with Extra Nuts is a ménage story, featuring two hot guys and one shy and sexy vanilla girl. 

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Blurb

She’s just a vanilla girl until she finds her perfect toppings.

Megan is slowly falling in love with Adam until he confesses he’s seeing a guy behind her back. She thinks the relationship has been ruined until the night she indulges in a threesome with the man she loves and Simon, his lover.

As much as she enjoys being sandwiched between the two men she’s not sure the arrangement can last. So Megan has to decide.
Can she come to terms with sharing the man she adores with his male lover or will she have to say goodbye to her soulmate forever?

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Excerpt (Mild)

“I’m going to just be honest with you, Adam,” I said, and took a step towards him. “I would like nothing better than to walk over there right now, to pull you to me, and to kiss you and just forget this whole business. I’d love to go back to the way we were, but that isn’t going to happen. I don’t know if I can live with sharing you. I’ve always been a pretty vanilla girl. I have the average fantasies of a straight woman. I dream of meeting a man, falling in love, marrying him, and having babies. Not at any point have I thought about sharing a man with someone else. I mean, you were honest with me about fantasies and I have wondered what it would be like to be with two men at the same time, but I always thought that was just fantasy. Anyway, what I think I am trying to say is that I want you, but I just don’t know how to deal with this situation.” 

“Can’t we just give it a go?” He stood up and took a step towards me. “All I’m sure of from this conversation is we both want each other, both regret what has happened, and want to go back to how we were. Can’t we do that and work out the rest as we go along?”

He was so close to me I could have reached out to touch him, but I didn’t. I didn’t know what to do.

“I want to do that, I do, but I still don’t know if I can handle being less than your one and only. We could fuck right now and love it, but would we just be delaying the inevitable heartbreak? I don’t want that, Adam, I really don’t.”

He brushed at my cheek and ran into my hair, holding my face gently in his hand a moment before he responded. His response was a kiss. At first I didn’t do anything. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was a little angry at how he’d ignored my question. This sweet impact of lips on lips was exactly what I didn’t want to happen because if I just let my body feel, my mind would switch off and the issues would not be settled. Instead of stepping back, pulling away, or yelling at him, I stood completely still. I froze as my mind whirled and my body begged and I battled with myself over what to do next. The low, masculine moan that vibrated through me was my undoing. It was as if the vibrations loosened me and my lips began to respond to the kiss, my arms wrapped around him instinctively, and my breasts pressed wantonly against his chest without me even realizing what they’d done.

Wrapping his arms around, he held me tightly as I had longed for them to do all week. He pressed himself into me. I could feel his arousal and sensed his relief. Our twin emotions twined around us and knit us together. I felt invisible hands pushing me towards him, keeping me from pulling away, and even though I knew it is all my imagination I didn’t fight it. I didn’t want to. I wanted Adam and maybe that would be enough.

His hands worked up under my T-shirt and cupped beneath my lace covered breasts. He squeezed and gasped, then broke our kiss for a moment to pull the top up and over my head. His lips fell back to my neck and the newly exposed flesh. Fingers scrabbling with the clasp at my back, his lips trailed over my collarbone and down to the V of my cleavage. When the clasp gave and his fingers worked to slip away the straps down my arms, his mouth feasted on each new inch of tit that was revealed. When he had discarded the bra and was once again cupping my breasts, naked this time, he lifted my nipples to his lips to suck and nibble at them.

By that point I was helpless, lost in lust. A little corner of my mind felt uneasy, knowing that the issue had still not really been resolved, but the rest of me was just ecstatic to be touched by him again. I had missed him so very much. His ever-busy fingers now pulled at the button and zip of my jeans. It took him only a moment to loosen them and seconds more to pull them down to my knees. He knelt at my feet and pulled off my boots, then slipped my jeans down my legs.

I felt naked, maybe even more so as I only had on the flimsiest of knickers. Their tininess emphasized the largeness of the rest of me and I felt awkward. I was not terribly confident in my skin and would normally wear a light negligee that would hide all my bumps and imperfections. The exposure was uncomfortable, but as he rose to his feet and pulled me over to the bed with him, my worries melted away.

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