WILD IN THE COUNTRY - an erotic super length novel
There's something in the air...
When Flora Swain moves to the country in search of a new life and creative inspiration, she gets more than she bargained for in the village of Marwick Magna. Apparently sleepy Marwick is in fact a simmering hotbed of exotic sensuality, and each one of its sex loving inhabitants seems to have a new kink to share with the eager Flora, not least her gorgeous and talented neighbor, the world famous artist Declan McKenna.
But the village is rife with secrets as well as rampant eroticism. Provocative letters start arriving from someone called only ‘The Scribe’, and the hot, explicit messages drive Flora’s senses wild. Just how far will she have to go to discover the true identity of her perverse and mysterious correspondent? Will it mean abandoning her last inhibition and her old life forever?
The 2017 edition of Wild in the Country has been slightly revised and rewritten.
Excerpt [draft version]
Good God, she’d been right! Somebody had been watching... And they’d
watched her with Ian—taking notes, by the sound of it.
But even as she seethed, a subversive inner voice spoke up clearly. And pointed
out her own irrationality.
You enjoyed it, the devil’s advocate said. It was that sense of being
watched that got you off, made it special. You ought to be thankful, not angry,
you ungrateful little fool. Whoever this Scribe is, he wants you,
and in your heart of hearts, you want him to want you!
Flora glanced toward the window and the flowering hedge that divided her land
from McKenna’s. Her first impulse had been to storm round there and have
it all out with him, but that combative urge was now changing.
And what if she were wrong? There were two windows in her bedroom, and consequently
two directions from which to watch. What if it were someone strolling in the
meadow who’d seen her? Someone who just happened to have a pair of field
glasses? It wasn’t unknown to carry binoculars in the country.
Declan McKenna was a handsome man, a gifted man who she’d tentatively
hoped, well, perhaps more accurately day-dreamed, might help her. It would be
silly to start out by picking a fight with him. Looking down at the letter,
she re-read its sensual message more positively, then realised that she now
had just the entrée she needed. Especially now it was more than his artistic
guidance she was hoping for.
With the letter in her pocket, she made her way down her path, out into the
lane, then along it ‘til she reached the next gate. A moment of doubt
assailed her as she reached for the latch, but she quashed it and passed through
into Declan McKenna’s garden, then walked as quietly as she could towards
the rear of the house.
Rounding the corner, she found him sunbathing, his magnificent gilded body moist
and gleaming. She could smell a strong but not unpleasant odour coming off him,
and saw an uncapped, unlabeled bottle on the tartan rug at his side, containing
a fluid that looked thin and rather milky. She supposed it was a sun lotion
of some kind.
He was still completely naked, and his glasses lay abandoned by the bottle.
©20o7/2017 Portia Da Costa
Join Portia's Mailing List
Visit Portia's Reader Lounge