After reading Still Life With Strings and Painted Faces by LH Cosway, I am on high alert for the release of Killer Queen next month. One of the best parts of reading is having something to look forward to and I am extremely excited for this book! XOXO Penny Lisa
Willkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome…
Come inside The Glamour Patch club to see the star of our show, Miss Vivica Blue.
Do you want to read my diary you nosy little devils? Have a glass of champagne (you’ll need it) and get comfortable because you’re in for some crazy shenanigans brought to you straight from the horse’s mouth.
I can be whatever you want me to be: boy, girl, a little bit of both.
If you have a problem with a man in a dress then best be off with you. If males in make-up give you the willies, then I’ll say au revoir and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
So, who are we left with? Ah, a fine collection of curious souls. I want to tell you a tale of love, because those are the most glorious kind. I want to tell you about real love, a love that transcends labels and gender stereotypes.
The moment I first laid eyes on my Freda I knew that we were kindred. Well okay, I also knew I wanted to get into her pants, but that’s beside the point. My world was a grey place. I was at my lowest ebb. Then she came along and patches of colour began to spring forth. One day the daffodils were yellow and before I knew it, colour was everywhere, lighting up my life.
Love is not about how we appear on the outside, it’s about the soul contained within.
Our story was not a conventional one, but it was ours, and that’s what made it shine.
Killer Queen is a companion novel to L.H. Cosway’s contemporary romance, Painted Faces. It contains scenes that take place before, during and after the original story. It can also be read as a standalone.
Goodreads Book Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22879950-killer-queen?from_search=true
Cover Designed by: Letitia from Romantic Book Affairs
I was immediately happy to be left alone with my most recent object of attraction, and tried to think of a way to endear myself to her. She seemed a little defensive, and I didn’t like it. She was focused intently on stirring a pot of simmering bolognaise, not paying me any notice. Deciding to take the bull by the horns, I walked across the room and stepped up right behind her, taking her by the hips and affectionately resting my head on her shoulder.
Sometimes, forcing physical closeness with women worked for me. Not that kind, I’m not completely depraved. Often though, women liked it when I took them into my arms for a hug or pulled them onto my lap to sit. Unfortunately, Fred’s entire body went ramrod straight the moment I touched her. I instantly regretted the move, but at the same time I didn’t. Her supple hips felt good beneath my palms.
“Smells delicious, Fred,” I told her, brazenly giving her a squeeze. It was ridiculously inappropriate, but I wanted a reaction out of her. Needed one. Still, she barely moved and instead gave me a one word reply, “Yep.”
I leaned closer, allowing my breath to whisper across the back of her neck. She shivered and I think I saw her breath hitch, which made me grow a little hard. “The wine cost twenty Euros, and I got it from the off-licence down the road.”
“Oh, very la di da, Viv. You must be a big spender.”
I grinned, liking how she was subtly taunting me by continuing to call me by a woman’s name. “You like calling me Viv, do you?”
“What can I say, feminine blokes really do it for me.”
Enjoying this interaction, I decided to up the ante a level…or twenty. I spoke low and quick into her ear. “I can do that, if it’s what you’re into. In fact, I can be whatever you want me to be. I don’t think it is, though. I think you’re the kind of woman who likes a man to take the lead.” Then I pulled her hips back into mine. The feel of her soft arse flush against my cock did wonderful things. Wonderful things. I was having visions of throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her into my apartment so that I could have my wicked way with her. Unfortunately, my forwardness was not taken in the manner I had intended. Pulling swiftly out of my hold, she lifted up her stirring spoon and pointed it at me, as though it were a weapon that would keep me at arm’s length.
“Okay. Listen here, back the hell up or I’ll knee you in the balls.”
L.H. Cosway has a BA in English Literature and Greek and Roman Civilisation, and an MA in Postcolonial Literature. She lives in Dublin city. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books.
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