Today, A.M. Fox here to talk about the years he’s had and his first published book, Heathcliff and the Sexy Whippet. Take it away, Mr Fox.
A blog post about Heathcliff and the Sexy Whippet, by A.M. Fox
When I was lucky enough to get a blog spot on Ofelia Grand’s blog Island of love, I was rather worried.
What to say about books during a pandemic?
How to come across as neither dismissive of the state of the world, or crazed with anxiety?
You know how it is.
I started writing Whippet as a way of blocking off everything going on outside. Writing is my panacea; my support and comfort. The only thing that keeps me (almost) sane. This year, I’ve written around 200K. One and a half novels, a novella and some shorties, which constitutes a lot of manic brain cells and ear tugging.
I love Wuthering heights. Have you read it? What a twisted, fucked-up book it truly is, all the more so because of when it was written. First time I read it, I was a teenager, too young to comprehend the abyss of abuse and bitterness it depicts. Now, I know better. It’s hardly a romance but it is haunting. In some weird way, it has stayed with me through the years, knocking on my window.
Sexy Whippet is a far cry, being romantic, happy and contemporary. The main character, Sean, lands up with a job he’s not prepared for. That’s happened to me a few times… He’s still busy with the film but agreed to let me interview him for this blog. Of course, he’s doing my hair as we speak and Heath wanted to be here too.
Sean, can you tell us what you first noticed about Heath?
Your hair is a mess! I’m just going to untangle these knots so excuse if I tug. It might hurt but it won’t be agony. No pain, no gain! Heath? Ur, well. First time I saw him, he was dressed to kill in a cloak and riding boots. I think he was carrying a crop!
Is that what caught your eye?
No, no it wasn’t. To tell you the truth I’d forgotten my glasses so I couldn’t see too well anyway. I could make out his shape, but it was only when I wrestled him to the floor that I smelt him.
Wrestled him to the floor, you say?
Um. Yeah. Sounds harsh but it was necessary! He moaned but I was more worried about Daffodil, the huge doggy.
So what did you notice?
Heath smelt of olives and so I knew he was in trouble and needed my help.
Sean has bounded off and so I’m turning the interview over to Heath, who sits in the corner reading.
How about you, Heath? What did you first notice about Sean?
I’d like to say it was his smile, which, as you’ve no doubt noticed, is gorgeous? But it wasn’t. The very first thing I noticed was the suit he wore for the interview.
It was nice?
No. Absolutely horrible and made for someone three times the size of Sean. He looked as if he was hiding inside. I felt sorry for him, until he had me on the floor crawling on hands and knees. Then I—felt something else.
Heath has wandered across to Sean and we leave them, kissing.
When was it released? December 4th!
Where is to for sale? All the normal places.
I fetched some products and instructed him about their use. ‘Smells very clinical. I think it’s best if I wash your hair and bathe you, from now on,’ I said, ‘you need to feel the experience of being the patient, rather than the doctor. I don’t mean a full body bath,’ I hastened to explain, hotly. ‘You could keep underwear. If you absolutely insist.’
‘I’m not going to argue,’ he said, ‘you’ve got magic hands. I don’t know what it is but you make me so calm. Help yourself. Actors don’t mind nakedness.’
He leaned back against the sink while I died a silent death, arranged his tresses and wished for the millionth time that he did not already have a boyfriend. I had heard about people clicking from the first meeting, but it had certainly never happened to me before. When he was around, I was able to chat and share in a way that was unfamiliar and alluring. ‘Just relax.’
I showered and lathered, massaged and played. Heath closed his eyes and I got perfect opportunity to examine his masculine jaw and neck. I’m not sure where I got the confidence but I began soaping around his neck and ears, too, and then down onto his chest. I caressed, pouring all my care into my fingers and hoping it went onto him. I spent a long time on his nipples and stomach. When he moaned, my trousers became tight.
‘Jeez,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t stop.’
Thank you, Ofelia, for inviting me here, and thank you for the Mince Pies!
A Christmas feel-good tale of snowy, cobbled streets, unfulfilled desires and the sexiest whippet in Yorkshire!
When bubbly Sean Miles applies for a job with a film company, little does he realise what he’s getting into. As an experienced dog groomer, he’s great with fur and claws and loves a poochie cuddle, but has never offered human treatments. Until now.
Heath Mailer is playing the character of Heathcliff. Dark, brooding and intense, the lead actor can scowl aplenty but when he’s in trouble he doesn’t know how to ask for help. Who’s going to offer a hand to Mister Moody?
Forced to work together, Sean and Heath discover some unusual techniques that not only aid the production but also get to the heart of what ails the lead actor. Whoever said dog therapy can’t work on people?