Damn, I wish I could be in Leeds. Or thereabouts, at least.
From time to time, my fellows in Black Lace like to meet up and discuss the type of things we discuss. Mysterious and secret things, my friends, wicked and wanton things. Such as jelly snakes and Vincent d'Onofrio. But alas, I live in an obscure part of the country from which Barcelona is literally more accessible than Barnsley, so I have had to forego these excursions so far.
But I have been wondering lately why is it that so many fabulous erotica writers hail from Yorkshire? Is it the windswept moors, the rugged coast, the earthy honesty, the Tetleys Bitter? Because Portia Da Costa, Janine Ashbless, Charlotte Stein and Saskia Walker, to name but four, all pen their exquisite words from the various Ridings. Oh, is it because they're called Ridings? That's quite sexy, in a way. And I'd bet money that, were Charlotte or Emily (maybe not Anne) to materialise in 2009, they'd be writing hawt scenes in the heather like nobody's business, up there in the vicarage in Haworth.
So...any theories? What are they putting in the teabags? I need to know!
(Of course, it could be all the eye candy.)