Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Erotic Memoirs of Ambrose Horne



Armed with only his relentless curiosity for the darkest recesses of human sexuality, Ambrose Horne is the enterprising eroticist for whom no puzzle is too perplexing, no secret is too scandalous, and no position is too impolite. Now, gathered together for your reading pleasure, The Erotic Memoirs Of Ambrose Horne reveals the Carnal Casebook of the Idiosyncratic Inquisitor, the Horny Holmes... the man who put the Dick into Private Investigator... the one-and-only Ambrose Horne.

There was never any sign of a break-in or, for that matter, a break-out. Lady Batsford’s own love of the culinary arts, and her insistence on cooking many of her own meals, ruled out poison. And, when Horne jokingly suggested that the culprit might be a magpie, or some similarly acquisitive bird, he was astonished to discover that Lady Batsford herself had already conducted her own search for some form of feathered felon.

Going over Lady Batsford’s story in his room after dinner that evening, Horne confessed himself perplexed. Doodling at the bureau, his pen hurriedly sketching out the spurting penises, myriad breasts and bountiful buttocks that were his subconscious mind’s favoured means of relaxation, he knew that the answer lay within his grasp. But there was one piece of the puzzle missing, and the solution to this entire mystery lay in him finding it, wherever it lay.

Crossing the room, Horne rang the bell that connected to the servant’s quarters. Katie had been assigned to his needs for the duration of his stay, and she hurried to answer it.

‘I was wondering,’ he asked as she entered the room. ‘Does your mistress entertain visitors ... shall we say ‘outside’ of her normal social circle?’

Katie giggled. ‘Like a fancy man, or something?’

‘If you want to put it that way, yes.’

‘Well…’ the girl lowered her voice. ‘I shouldn’t really say anything; in fact, we’re not even supposed to know. But the Squire spends an awful lot of time here of an evening, at least three or four visits a week. And we are never to disturb them while they are together.’

‘Where do they hold these assignations?’

‘In the morning room. He arrives around seven and leaves around ten. My mistress says they are discussing private estate business.’

‘But the servants think there’s something else going on?’ Horne ventured.

‘Well, wouldn’t you?’ Katie laughed. ‘He’s married, you know, but the mistress is still a royal beauty, and if you saw the Squire’s wife!’ Her voice trailed away. ‘But please don’t say anything to anyone. If they found out I’d said anything to you, there’d be hell to pay.’

‘I won’t say a word,’ Horne assured her. ‘But tell me, do the thefts coincide with the Squire’s visits?’

‘I really couldn’t say. He’s here so often, and the thefts are so random. Maybe they do ...’

‘Hmmm. And, finally, is he here now?’

She nodded and Horne dismissed her. It was time, he decided for a little snooping. Yet, when he returned to his room later that evening, he had to confess himself no wiser than he had been. Yes, the servants’ suspicions were confirmed; in the 40 minutes that Horne spent crouched in an outside flower bed, squinting through the one set of curtains that had not been drawn tightly, he had been gratified only to discover that his own first impressions of Lady Batsford, a 25-year-old girl trapped in the body of a 50-year-old woman, had not been mistaken.

Local author, Chrissie Bentley, goes back in time across three books of short stories featuring everyone’s favorite erotic detective, Ambrose Horne!

The Erotic Adventures of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Memoirs of Ambrose Horne
The Erotic Return of Ambrose Horne

With Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes movie going gangbusters on the DVD circuit, there could be no better time to step back in time with another of Victorian England’s greatest detectives – although you will quickly discover that Ambrose Horne had a penchant for somewhat earthier pursuits than Holmes.

The brilliant creation of Philadelphia author Chrissie Bentley, Ambrose Horne is the sleuth that society calls upon to unravel the mysteries that delicacy and discretion dare not discuss with anybody else. Three volumes of his adventures – each containing five full-length stories – include such seemingly unfathomable puzzles as a mysteriously damaged stamp collection (“The Coagulated Conundrum”), a lost book of the Bible (“the Rediscovered Heresy”), a plague of ginger-haired children (“The Midnight Succubus”), and more. But behind those simple descriptions, and the deductive process that solves them, there lurk secrets and situations at which Holmes would have blanched before he even picked up his deerstalker.

Each of the stories is genuinely gripping, littered with both arcane historical observations and fascinating period trivia, and all pose genuine mysteries for the reader to attempt to solve alongside Horne. Where Bentley steps away from the detecting norm is in the sheer eroticism of her storytelling – anybody familiar with her other writings will already be aware of the full XXX impact that she brings to every tale, and Ambrose marches proudly to the same delirious drum.

From the genuinely idiosyncratic manner in which he contemplates the matter at hand, to the distinctly unconventional means by which he concludes every case, Horne’s adventures are exhilarating excursions into a world that is as far removed from the typical view of Victorian England as it is possible to journey. At the same time, however, it is very easy to believe that both Horne and his memoirs really are genuine survivors of an age in which the merest glimpse of a lady’s bare ankle was sufficient to morally bankrupt a passing gentleman, suppressed for so long that society itself had forgotten him. Now he is back and, needless to say, he discusses a lot more than mere ankles.

These three fantastic books are all available at : Xcite Books

Amy Hanson, Wilmington Examiner

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