Pen name: Julia Leijon
JuliaLeijon.com: My mother got tired of all the romance and erotica hits she’d get when she searched for my name on Amazon, so I started using a pen name to help her filter the results. Click through to be taken to the website of all my work as Julia Leijon.
Retired pen name: Isobel Dorian
Older romance & erotica work:
A Brighter Spark
Amazon Contemporary Romance bestseller March 2013
Suzy’s enthusiasm for life has been slowly buried under the ordinary humdrum stresses of single motherhood and adult responsibilities. At only 30 years old, she already feels like all the fun parts are behind her and that there’s nothing ahead to look forward to. Then she meets Daniel, an old-fashioned gentleman with two perfect children of his own.
For Suzy, it’s lust at first sight, but when a one-night stand rapidly deepens into a genuine bond she starts to second-guess herself. She barely knows how to muddle through her own life — what if she brings disorder and disaster into Daniel’s perfect, orderly world?
Will she ever feel grown-up enough to be with somebody like him, to be his equal and his friend as well as his lover?
This title includes my story Vanilla:
I lean in to give him a slow, light kiss, keeping it scarcely more than a brush of lips even when Sam opens his mouth wider and licks at the edge of my front teeth. I want to be careful with him, to treat him like something delicate. He’s something that should be cherished. If I can’t do that, I don’t deserve to have the chance to shatter him.
This title is my story Min Min Lights:
The thing about moving to the middle of nowhere in order to leave your past behind is that you’ll meet others doing the same along the way.
These titles include my story Soul of Discretion:
‘Cara, you absolutely cannot pass this up, I swear to God.’
‘Mm-hm?’ I asked noncommittally. I hadn’t spoken to Mitchell in a while, but I’d been turning down “once in a lifetime chances” ever since the day I quit the business. I couldn’t imagine anything that’d be different about this one.
‘An old buddy of mine is tour managing for Liam Lucifer and he needs a girl at the hotel tonight. He doesn’t want to ask the guest services desk there — too many bad experiences with people selling stories to the tabloids, you know how it is. So my buddy gets Liam to call me, because my buddy knows I can find a girl who’s good to keep her mouth shut. Nobody’s better at that than you, Cara. You’re cream of the crop.’
These titles include my story Séance:
“It’s almost an old-fashioned cursor, like on a computer screen,” Louisa explained to me, passing the little object over so that I could get a better look. “It’s what ghosts use to spell out words on Ouija boards. I wonder if there used to be séances here, when the house was lived in properly.”
“The board might be down in the cellar. The landlord said there were a few old trunks down there,” I suggested, turning the planchette over between my fingers. The wood was heavy and warm despite the clammy chill of the outdoor air. We’d gotten a cheap rate because of the vibe of general disrepair around the place, but Louisa and I both found the idea of a little dose of gloom rather romantic.
These titles include my story Blush:
The long black waves of her hair fall over one eye as she ducks her head, looking nervous and almost ashamed. The effect is like a classic movie siren is standing before me, with her full red lips and soft smooth white skin.
“My dick doesn’t really get hard all the way,” she explains, apologetic. Her voice is smoky, a little rough. The legacy of too many cigarettes. “Hormones, you know.”
We’re in her room, a third-floor walk up with the neon and noise of the city on a Friday night just outside the window. She has a poster for the movie Cabaret on her wall. She told me at the club that her name is Sally; I have no idea if this is true.
This title includes my story Liberated:
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the key lying against my skin just above the swell of my breasts. After a moment’s deliberation, I nodded. I wouldn’t need winding for several more weeks, at least, but I’m not ignorant to the erotic aspects of the act.
I slipped the slim ribbon up over my head and dropped it into his palm, lifting my hair away from the back of my neck and turning so he could easily see the keyhole. He slotted the key in place carefully and gave it three slow, careful turns.
I could feel the coils and springs in my belly tighten with each movement of the key, the tension making me more aware of every part of myself, of every sensor and artificial nerve in my skin. I pulled off my lambskin gloves, turning to face Sam and taking his face in my hands as I leaned in to kiss him.
These titles include my story Date Night:
It was easy enough to show up at the same movie theatre that I knew they went to, and to feign surprise at running into them. There was a suspicious cast to Amanda’s eyes as she looked at us, but that didn’t deter me: the charade had always been largely for Mark’s sake, because I thought it was fairly likely that Frank and I could have had Amanda in our bed without any pretence at all. It was her husband who required seducing.
These titles include my story Tour Fling:
Life is a series of dusty towns and loud, dirty festivals, of crowds of love-struck teenage eyes staring up at the stage as they play, of tiny bunk beds on buses and hundreds of people at constant close quarters. It’s grimy and seedy and vibrant and so full of life that some days Ben thinks that his exhausted heart is going to just swell up and explode from how amazing his life is.
There are a few basic rules in the touring life: be on time for your band’s performance slot, don’t shit in the bus bathrooms, keep your cool when things go wrong (and things will go wrong all the time), tour flings are tour flings.
These titles include my story First Time For Everything:
I’d already had two vodkas, and the words slipped out before I could stop them. “I’m a virgin. I’ve never even been kissed.”
He stopped, and turned around. His eyes glittered in the low light of the streetlamps. His breath, beer-bitter, was hot and damp on the air between us in the second before his lips touched mine.
“You?” he murmured, a little slurred from his own drinks. “Never been…”
My first kiss. A warm, heavy press of his mouth on mine, closed and almost chaste.
Then he grinned, stepped back, and started striding up the hill again.
“Now you have!” he called back to me. “Hurry up!”
I brought my fingertips to my tingling lips, and ran after him.
My second kiss was five minutes later, on the walk back down the hill, two wine bottles clinking in a plastic bag against my thigh as I pulled his face to mine with a hand twined in his hair.
These titles include my story Christmas Down Under:
Feeling a languorous kind of excitement shiver over my skin, I closed and locked the balcony doors, drawing the curtains closed over the sunshine outside. The light filtering in through the rose-coloured fabric made the warm mood of my room shift from the crisp summery feel it had worn only moments before. Now it seemed decadent, as if the heat in the air might stir the blood to any kind of mad indulgence.
This title includes my story Cartwheels and Strays:
It’s summer and the house smells like warm dust, always, and there is a blur of green grass outside that becomes the sky when Andrew cartwheels, hand over hand and foot over foot, suspended in this speck of time and place amongst the endless blue above. He is twenty years old, slim and tall and fair haired, and earns his money repairing computers and being polite to the people who swear that they don’t know how all that porn got on their hard drive.
Sometimes Andrew wants to smile conspiratorially at them and reveal the secret: everyone has that much porn. Some keep it in their computers, some behind their eyes on the long commutes to and from their offices. Some keep it in the other bedrooms of their small, cheap rental houses, and name it Dylan. But everyone has it. Some, like Andrew, are idiotic enough to fall in love with it.