The Power of a Kiss

Vanilla often doesn't do much for me, but this kiss rocked my world.



It's hot, but the real key here is the emotional investment I have in these two. I've noticed lately that a really well-written vanilla romance can get me aroused even when it's full of sexual acts I often find bland. By contrast, the kinkiest scenes leave me cold if there's no context. It's part of what's developed since I stopped being aroused by the mere transgressive presence of kinky sex. It's a lesson I've been trying to keep in mind lately. Sex needs context and a story to mean something.

I watched this kiss about four times when I saw this episode. Its power reminded me that awareness of human emotion is always the key to appreciating what's going on physically.

Music Mondays: "Sweater Weather" by The Neighbourhood

she knows what i think about.
what i think about.
1 love. 2 mouths.
1 love. 1 house.
no shirt. no blouse.
just us. you find out.
nothing that we don't want to tell you about.

- The Neighbourhood

The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell

The Modern Erotic Classics series which put this book out (along with the one I featured last week, Dark Matter) really does look awesome. Here's some more information:

***

If his beauty was of the Devil, and this an enchantment, she did not care. . .

Lord Karolan Rakka is no stranger to death: sensual, mysterious and endowed with an arcane knowledge of alchemy, he has achieved immortality. Deeply lonely and tormented by the Fetch - the dark and wanton spirit who feasts on his fleshly desires - Karolan endeavours to resist the brief solace of sexual pleasure . . . Instead he longs for a kindred soul. And when he finds her in the ravishing form of Garnetta - a young woman, both innocent and lost - Karolan wastes no time in making her his own. But when Garnetta discovers the shocking truth about their overwhelming bond of desire, she flees Lord Rakka - and finds herself in mortal peril. Only Karolan can save her. Will he make a leap of faith for the woman he has grown to love . . . before time runs out? The Flesh Endures is a breathless tale of faith and love, and the bonds of desire from which there is no escape.

Available from:


Amazon

Amazon UK

All Romance E-Books

Nook

Excerpt:

It was gloomy inside the low room, the air thick with the oily smoke from rush tapers. The lavender and sweet woodruff that strewed the beaten earth floor had long since wilted and failed to mask the smells of stale sweat and unwashed clothes.

At the back of the room, in an area of deepest shadow, Lord Karolan Rakka lay on a pile of tawdry cushions. He watched his companion caressing the two young women, his perceptions blurred by the poppy drug coursing through his veins. The three naked bodies were shiny with sweat and the smells of sex and exertion clotted his nostrils. He wondered, for a moment, why he had stayed. There had been no reason to linger after Jack had given him the things he required, but he had felt a desire for human company. And so he had poured a measure of the opiate into a tankard of ale and settled back to watch Jack indulge his sexual appetites.

For a while the two women worked on his companion, taking it in turns to kiss Jack's mouth and caress his body. Then they put on a show for the two men, moaning loudly as they kissed each other, rubbing their breasts together until the nipples stood out like ripe cherries.

Inflamed by the display, Jack reached for Isabeau, preferring her rich womanly curves to Adeliz's more girlish form.

'Come and join us, why don't you?' Jack mumbled, surfacing from between Isabeau's spread legs and wiping her moisture from his chin. There's enough here for two. You don't mind sharing your honey pot, do you my pretty?'

*****

Author Bio:

Cleo Cordell is the author of nine erotic novels, a number of short stories and a forthcoming anthology. The bestselling Captive Flesh, published in 1993, was followed by Senses Bejewelled and Velvet Claws, and Cleo was established as 'the new queen of suburban erotica' in Today and 'queen of the undieworld' in the Woman's Journal. Her subsequent titles, Juliet Rising, Path of the Tiger, Crimson Buccaneer and Opal Darkness, confirmed her position as first lady of historical-fantasy erotica.

Writing as Susan Swann, Cleo's alter ego explored contemporary erotica in The Discipline of Pearls and The Ritual of Pearls.

Cleo began working for Northamptonshire Libraries at the age of sixteen. This gave her ample opportunity to explore the world of dark fantasy fiction, her first love. When not reading or researching, she enjoys the cinema, her cats, wildlife and cooking gourmet vegetarian food. At present she is working on the sequel to The Flesh Endures, continuing the fortunes of the enigmatic alchemist Lord Karolan Rakka.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:
The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
3 by Julie Hilden
Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
The Agency by David Meltzer
Burn by Michael Perkins
Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Kinky Boots by K D Grace

God knows I am a sucker for some kinky boots. Count me in! Here's some info to match that hot cover (and, by the way, I wouldn't mind a link to the shoes that model is wearing...)

****

After a sizzling encounter in DEMON HEELS, a quirky all-night shoe store, with the store’s hot owner, FINN MASTERS, JILL HART walks away in the most gorgeous boots ever. Her new boots come with an unexpected bonus, a sexy demon named ELEANOR, who’s looking for a good time. All she lacks is a body, and Jill’s will do nicely.

Jill quits her dead-end job and, not knowing what’s come over her stops by the nearest pub intent on doing tequila shots until she falls off the stool. Instead she does FINN MASTERS in the beer garden, unwittingly participating in her first ever threesome. The boots were the bait, the timing was right and Eleanor has new digs. It’s Finn job to prevent Eleanor’s misbehaving. His failure means he’ll have to ride shotgun and do damage control until Eleanor moves out at the next full moon.

With Eleanor in residence, Jill’s bolder, sexier, willing to take risks. But is she a whole new Jill, or is it just demon courage? And how will Finn feel about her when she’s just plain Jill again? Will the maddeningly magical ménage make Jill’s dreams come true, or will it break her heart?

Available from:


Amazon


Amazon UK

More links will be added here as they become available.


*****

Excerpt:

There was a soft knock on the door and Meinrad entered the room with several hanks of what looked like ordinary rope. He nodded his greeting to Finn, then his gaze came to rest on Jill, and she felt her entire body blush at his inspection. ‘Turn around,’ he said.

She obeyed.

He made some sound low in his throat that could have passed as either approval or not. Then he placed a large hand on her shoulder and turned her back to face him. She noticed he wore the Kinky Boots uniform T-shirt stretched tight across his very broad chest. The shop name was punctuated by the hard pressure of nipples on muscular pecs. The black jeans he wore rode low on his hips. The wave of lust that rushed over her was staggering. How had she not noticed how sexy he was?

Then Finn moved to stand beside him, and she understood. Even though Meinrad was by far the larger man, Finn dominated the room. Finn dominated the space. Finn dominated every second of the last twenty-four hours of her life, as though he had shoved his way in and pushed everything else out. It did things to her, that thought, things that were way beyond lust, things that were a lot more frightening than being possessed by a demon.

He stood gazing down at her from some neutral distance that made her feel very much alone, as though the world and everyone in it had receded, leaving her to await her fate. Eleanor was keeping a low profile. Finn spoke without preamble. ‘Unless something’s hurting you, while Meinrad’s binding you, you’re not to speak. You’re only to move when he moves you. You’re to do exactly as he says. You’re to accept what he does to you in total passivity. Is that clear?’

‘Is he going to fuck me?’ She was embarrassed the minute she said it but it was too late to take it back.

‘If I want him to, yes,’ Finn said.

If Finn wanted him to. Dear God, what was she doing? Suddenly she felt unsteady on her feet. She didn’t know Meinrad. Not like she knew Finn. And yet the thought of the big man hammering her with his enormous cock while she was all trussed up was at least as exciting as it was uncomfortable. The thought that he would do so only at Finn’s bidding excited her even more.

‘There’ll be no safe word,’ Finn continued. ‘All you have to do is tell Meinrad to stop. Or if at any time he thinks you’re not fit to continue, he’ll stop, and that’ll be that. Are we clear?’

She nodded. ‘And what about you?’

‘Meinrad’s acting on my behalf.’ Finn held her in a cool gaze. ‘He’ll do as I say, and so will you, unless you choose at any point not to play.’ For a long moment he studied her, as though he might see something, perhaps some flaw, perhaps some weakness, she didn’t know what. He seemed too far away to tell. She held her breath. Waiting.

At last he blinked and stepped back, still holding her gaze. ‘I’ll ask you again, Jill. Are you sure this is what you want?’

She nodded, afraid to speak for fear her heart would jump out of her throat. Then she remembered to breathe again.

Finn said nothing. He took her hands in his and offered them to Meinrad, who took both her wrists in one huge palm and tied them across one another in a simple looped knot from which she could have easily escaped if she’d wanted. Then he led her to the bed and guided her onto it. There, he secured her hands to the headboard with several feet of slack, enough to allow him to work around her and at the same time allow Finn to observe from every angle. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed Finn had pulled a ladder back chair to the side of the bed and sat emotionlessly looking on. A quick glance was all she got before Meinrad settled her into a kneeling position facing the wall with her hands resting on the headboard.

In the beginning, it felt as though she were being decorated with rope; that’s the best way Jill could describe what Meinrad was doing to her. The rope was softer than she expected it to be and not unpleasant against her bare skin. The embarrassment she felt came, flashed hot, then passed as Meinrad looped the rope and efficiently placed knots above her breasts and then below and then tightened and cinched his efforts until the harnessing effect squeezed and pinched and offered up each of her breasts in a tight little nest of rope, like ripe fruit topped by the cherry-hard rise of her nipples. She’d always had sensitive breasts and to have them so handled and bound made her whole chest burn with a need that was replicated in her pussy.

Meinrad worked in complete silence, his hands moving over her body as though she were nothing more than the canvas for what he was creating. His touch was exacting and his rhythm as he worked was hypnotic. Early on she realised that one of his hands was on her at all times. She remembered basic knot training from her childhood days in the Girl Guides. Right over left and under and through. Left over right and under and through. Rope threaded through competent fingers, rope slid over bare skin, coiling, twisting, binding, descending right over left and left over right, pressing a column of knots down the length of her spine before looping around her waist and embracing her belly. Again. And again. Yes, she was his canvas, and what he created took its shape against her flesh, but his art didn’t happen without exacting a price from him, and in her peripheral vision, as he reached around her to secure a knot over her navel, she caught a glimpse of the erection set tight in his black jeans, and she felt the hitch of his breathing not quite hidden in the rhythm of right over left, left over right. As he crossed the ropes around her body, she felt the heat of his breath whisper along her back next to the weaving and twisting and soft swishing of the rope along her spine.

With a tug of the rope every pore of her body responded to the tightening just as he nestled a knot against the pucker of her bottom and her gasp sounded like a rush of wind in the stretching silence. Meinrad gave a little pull and her clit hardened in empathy with the pressure between her buttocks. Then without warning, he slipped an arm around her and turned her over as he pulled two strands of rope up between her legs, up tight against her upper thighs like the elastic of knickers, or a tightly cinched climber’s harness. That done, with a deft movement of his fingers he secured a knot just over her clit, and this time she cried out in the strange mix of discomfort and arousal. The whole gape of her was pressed between the two strands of rope, knotted at fore and aft like a ship, narrow and thick-hulled.

There was barely time to get used to the strange rub and pressure between her legs, or the knot that felt like the tip of a thick finger attempting to breach her bottom, before Meinrad began to bind her thighs to her lower legs and ankles, making the position in which she knelt mandatory. With each knot, with each looping of the rope, he forced her bent legs further apart until she was wide open, yet at the same time held closed by the ropes between her legs. Bound and kneeling on the bed, she tried to breathe deeply, tried to fight back the panic of her own helplessness, something she had never experienced before. She was dangerously close to hyperventilating, and Eleanor seemed to be completely absent from the whole event.

‘Shall I continue?’ Meinrad asked.

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast route across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include The Initiation of Ms Holly and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Book two, Riding the Ether, is now available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall.

http://kdgrace.co.uk

http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

http://www.twitter.com/KD_Grace

The Military Wife by Lucy Felthouse

The inimitable Lucy Felthouse was kind enough to send over some information about her latest release, The Military Wife:

Three hot and romantic military tales from the pen of uniform aficionado, Lucy Felthouse.

The Military Wife


Tess’ salacious fantasies about her husband, Aidan, see her through the long periods of time when she doesn’t see him—when he’s away on tour with the Army. The rest of the time, she has to deal with day to day life alone. One day, a dull chore is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of her husband, and things quickly heat up in their kitchen, and beyond.

Passing Out Passion


When Christina attends her brother’s passing out parade with her parents, she’s full of pride at his achievement. What she’s not expecting, though, is to bump into old flame Phil Ashdown. They didn’t part on good terms and the atmosphere between them is awkward. But when they’re forced into conversation, it turns out that all those years ago, there was a misunderstanding. One that can very easily be put right.

Double Vision


Becky’s a military wife with a uniform fetish. She loves nothing more than having fun in the bedroom with her squaddie husband, where they share and act out many of their fantasies. However, there’s one fantasy that she’s never divulged, as it breaks their rule about bring other people into their sex life. One day, though, Becky decides to bite the bullet and tell Paul everything. She never expects him to make her fantasy come true. But then, Paul’s a very resourceful man.

Available from:

Amazon

Amazon UK

All Romance E-Books

*****

Excerpt:

Tess grumbled to herself as she heaved the shopping bags out of the boot of her car. It was a pain in the arse having to do this all by herself. Yet she’d been through this more than once, and it was going to be for the foreseeable future. May as well just get on with it and shut up moaning, she thought.

Just as she got to her front door and started fumbling for her key, risking dropping all her bags in the process, a voice said, “Let me help you with that.”

Tess dropped the bags.

She whirled to face the owner of the voice, unadulterated joy on her face.

“Aidan!” she shrieked. And, without caring who could be watching, she hurled herself into her husband’s arms. Luckily, Aidan had been fully expecting this kind of greeting and had braced himself. Supporting his wife’s bottom with his hands as her legs clasped around his waist, he felt himself stiffening almost immediately. You couldn’t blame him though, it had been months since he’d been home.

As she took his face in her hands, Tess was almost teary with happiness. She leaned in for a kiss that would show her husband exactly how much she’d missed him. Tightening her legs around him, she smiled into his mouth as she felt his erection nudging against her bottom.

What seemed like hours later, the couple finally came up for air. Surveying the damage around them, Tess made a quick decision.

“Grab the other bags while I dump this lot in the kitchen. Then lock the door behind you and get upstairs.”

Grinning, Aidan moved to do as he was told. Tess scrabbled items back into carrier bags and rushed into their home to put them down. Now the kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it. But she didn’t care. Her man was home. Smiling to herself, she turned as Aidan came in with the rest of the bags. She gestured to the floor and he put them down.

“Corporal Scott reporting for duty ma’am,” he said, snapping her a smart salute.
Bastard, she thought, he knows what it does to me when he goes all military on me. We’ll be lucky to make it upstairs at this rate.


Tess drank in every inch of her husband. The climate in Afghanistan had given him a decent tan, but of course he hadn’t been on holiday. He’d been fighting a war, and she was eternally grateful that he’d come back to her in one piece. He was still wearing his combats, with the regulation boots, but no headgear. He looked hot.

“Come here, soldier,” she said, crooking a finger, “and kiss me.”

*****

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012 and 2013, and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For All, and is book editor for Cliterati. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

Music Mondays: "Better Dig Two" by The Band Perry - Take Two

"Here lies the girl whose only crutch was loving one man just a little too much."
-- The Band Perry



I've featured this song before, but that was when only the lyric video was out. I have to call attention to it again because of the amazing full video. American Gothic. Beautiful.

Better Than a Massage

Just a quick note that my story, "Better Than a Massage" will appear in Rachel Kramer Bussel's forthcoming anthology of anal sex stories, Baby Got Back. The book will be out in August, and I'll post more information as the release gets closer.

For now, I'll just say it's an f/f story based on my belief that anal sex is holiday sex.

Two Calls for Subs

For BDSM erotica (yeah, I couldn't resist the pun).

They're both anthologies for editor extraordinaire Rachel Kramer Bussel.

One is short short BDSM erotica.

Editor Rachel Kramer Bussel is looking for short short stories of 1,200 words or less focused on the theme of BDSM from a submissive perspective. While the word count is short, I want complex stories with a beginning, middle and end, not simply scene snippets. I will consider stories from a dominant's perspective if that is the best way to illuminate the mindset of the submissive. The final book of 69 stories will contain an extremely wide variety of characters, POVs (I welcome first, second and third person stories), settings, scenarios, motivations, experience levels, motivations, BDSM practices (which can be combined with other sexual acts), fetishes, couplings, relationships, etc. All genders and sexual orientations welcome. All characters must be over 18; no nonconsensual activity, scat, incest or bestiality. No poetry. Original, unpublished stories only. Stories from authors I have not published before are especially welcome. See my books Please, Sir; Yes, Sir; Please, Ma'am and Yes, Ma'am to get a feel for the types of submissive stories I enjoy. See Gotta Have It: 69 Stories of Sudden Sex for examples of 1,200 word or less erotic stories.

See full guidelines in her original post (and you should absolutely click through because she included a lot more instructions than what I've excerpted here).

The other is Best Bondage Erotica 2014.

Best Bondage Erotica 2014 will collect the best bondage erotica stories around, focusing on a range of techniques, implements, characters and scenarios, from newbies to seasoned bondage players and everything in between. Bondage should be a central focus of the erotic element of the story but the plot does not have to hinge on bondage. The final book will include stories focused on both the physical and mental aspects of bondage, from varying points of view. Bondage plus other sexual activity is welcome (spanking, tickling, exhibitionism, voyeurism, intercourse, oral sex, teasing, etc.). Original, unique, creative characters, settings, scenarios and forms of bondage are encouraged. As befitting the title, I’m looking for the best, hottest, most creative bondage erotica for this collection. All genders/sexual orientations welcome. No poetry.

Original post here (and, again, you really want to click through to read the full instructions).

And if you can't wait until next year to read BDSM erotica, don't forget to check out Best Bondage Erotica 2013, which includes my story, "This Is Me Holding You."

Dark Matter by Michael Perkins

I've got a great excerpt of Michael Perkins' new release Dark Matter here for you today. Read on!

...

Lightening, meet Thunder...



San Francisco is a place of pure excess and liberation, where every flavour of sexuality is there for the tasting. Robin wants to be part of it, and by embracing extreme erotic experiences to escape her father's hypocrisy. Buddy is a rebel, a wild spirit. The moment they meet, sparks fly in a frenzy of desire unbound and darkness unleashed; and when Robin asks Buddy to kill her father, he knows he has found his destiny.



Dark Matter is a hypnotic tale of erotic cravings.

Available from:


Amazon

Amazon UK

All Romance

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

*****

Excerpt:
The Spiral Dance

Gods, from your rocky home in the highest snow-capped Sierras of the imagination, swoop down now on San Francisco, the City of Perpetual Indulgence.

Blot out all other sounds from your hearing and attend to the dark passage of one in your indifferent keeping — one touched by you, and like you,possessed....

Yet another turn of the wheel, another rotation of the earth: darkness is cast like a spell. A night without fog.

Straddling her snorting, fire-breathing Harley, Robin Flood roars up the steep undulating streets that slant to the sky and then down them to the Bay. She cuts a loud eructative path through the Marina and rumbles into stern Fort Mason, a former military facility converted into a cultural centre with shops, museums and a famous restaurant.

A bleached full moon leers down at her, one roguish lunar eyebrow cocked; clouds of galaxies extend from it into forever. The dark matter that makes up the unseen universe holds the stars apart. The Gods pay casual attention.

It is the beginning of November, final year of the century, on the night of the Spiral Dance — a Saturday night that falls on Samhain, when the dead pierce the veil that hangs between breathing and not, children who will never die (at least not in the twentieth, accursed century) eat sugar skulls, and a thousand boisterous pagans gather to celebrate the disappeared.

Robin joins the crowd cloaked in the exclusionary circle she draws around herself with strangers. She does not know anyone in the laughing, gesticulating, highspirited gathering of animals with horns, birds of prey, devils of all designs, medieval jongleurs, Green Men, maenads and vampires. Here, New Agers rub shoulders with Dark Agers. Here, imagination expresses the divine with profligate abandon.

Robin regrets momentarily that she has not worn a costume, but her eyes attract more attention than a mask would: they are an unfathomable cerulean, like the sea. Her glance when unguarded can be frightening in what it reveals of the cold wildness inside. Her features are small and finely chiselled, her mouth wide and lush. Her hair is cropped like glossy black feathers. One seashell ear is studded with five expensive earrings, the kind ear-nibblers cut their lips on. She’s prettier than the Queen of Heaven tonight, but there is something indistinct, unformed, indefinable but dangerous about her, as if she might be willing to do anything.

Hidden behind their masks, people stare at her. Aware of the impression she makes, she tucks her ambient rage in a pocket of her black motorcycle jacket and grins like an ingenue on crack. She waits patiently in the line, examining everyone for signs of the roles they might play in the drama of her life. She has a hunger to find out who she is, and she can only learn this from others; she is unknown to herself. Tonight her whim is that she is a temple prostitute come to worship the Goddess, weep for her dead, and party down with the pagans. Her fantasies are usually realised.

The motley line snakes around the pier to Herbst Pavilion, a giant former troop embarkation shed surrounded by choppy Bay waters. The huge space is sombre and magnificent, a maritime cathedral filled with the anxious ghosts of the hundreds of thousands of apprehensive young men who passed through the building on their way to war, and the unhappy spirits of those who never sailed home. It is an appropriate place to celebrate Halloween.

*****

About the Author:

MICHAEL PERKINS is the author of six collections of poetry. The Secret Record, literary criticism, was published by William Morrow in 1976. The Good Parts, selected book reviews, appeared in 1994. Among his other works of fiction and non-fiction are the novels Evil Companions, Dark Matter and Burn. His poems and essays have apeared in The Village Voice, Younger Critics of North America, The Nation,Mother Jones, Paper, Notre Dame Review, Exquisite Corpse, Big Bridge, Talisman, Rain Taxi andAmerican Book Review. He was the Leydig Trust's Writer of the Year in Great Britain in 2002, the recipient of the 2007 Obelisk Award for Lifetime Achievement and the 1957 Dunbar Poetry Prize. Carpe Diem, New and Selected Poems, appeared in 2011.

*****

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
3 by Julie Hilden
Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
The Agency by David Meltzer
Burn by Michael Perkins
Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Music Mondays: "Thing Called Love" by Bonnie Raitt

"I ain't no porcupine -- take off your kid gloves."



When I was younger, Dennis Quaid completely mesmerized me in this video. The way he grins at her made me feel things I didn't yet understand... I also love how, even though the two never touch, the video makes it feel like they will be getting together once the song is over.

On Why It's Hard to Draw a Line Between Porn and Erotica

Periodically, I post thoughts on the porn/erotica distinction. This is one of the best ones I've found, again from Jean Roberta's Sex Is All Metaphors:

Most lines drawn between morally-acceptable expressions of sex (including literary erotica) and bad, perverse, unhealthy expressions of sex (including "porn") are scary because the vehemence of the line-drawers is only matched by the arbitrariness of the line.

This is from an essay called "Drawing the Line."

Being Defined by the Past

Another snip from Jean Roberta's excellent Sex Is All Metaphors:

I wonder why sex is usually treated as an exceptional activity which must be judged differently from every other kind. Most people acquire job histories over time as well as sexual track records, yet few middle-aged brain surgeons are permanently stigmatized for having flipped burgers in a part- time job as pre-med students. No one wants to be defined for all time as they were in the past.

This quote is from an essay called, "Retro-Shame, or the Persistence of the Past." I don't have much to add, except that I really like this point.

Going Down Out Loud

Going Down: Oral Sex Stories, which includes my piece, "Getting Something Out of It," is now out in an audiobook edition! I recently wrote about how much I was digging listening to erotica in audio form, so it's fun to see my work appear that way.

If you aren't entirely satisfied after Going Down (and who would be?), here are some other anthologies that include my work that have been performed out loud:

Passion: Erotic Romance for Women

Girl Crush: Women's Erotic Fantasies

Lesbian Cops: Erotic Investigations

The Most Fun Suggestion I've Heard for Cooking Up a New Story

Jean Roberta's Sex Is All Metaphors includes a great essay called "The Fickle Muse," about how to cook up new ideas when nothing seem fresh. Advice about writer's block abounds, but I really like the physicality of Roberta's discussion of it:

Focusing on each part of your body in turn, from feet to head or vice versa, is the best way I know of to reawaken the Muse. And despite what prudish authority figures have told you about the animal stupidity of human flesh, physical feelings are rarely crude or simple. (For that matter, even animals have their own wisdom, as pet- owners know.)

Just for the moment, data on which genres are still selling well in a troubled publishing market have no relevance. Feet, arms, tummy and all the other parts connected to them don't care about the market. Neither do they care about deadlines, guidelines, negative reviews, wars in the blogosphere, or grammatical issues. There is a place for all those things, but they don't belong in a quiet room prepared for the Muse.

I don't really believe in writer's block as its own special thing, but I know slumps occur in people's lives and jam them up in various ways for various reasons. Roberta's advice seems like it would be good in any such case, and the full version of the essay gets a little more sensual in its description of how the body can be listened to.

Why Sex Writing Shouldn't Always Be Nice

I recently started reading Jean Roberta's Sex Is All Metaphors, and came across a great passage on the issue of "sex-positive" writing. As she explains, many editors ask that erotica be sex-positive, which generally means avoiding a certain standard list of squicks (including things like very extreme violence). Sometimes, the sense of "sex-positive" is extended to mean a general attitude about sex within the story -- that it should be empowering, pleasurable, and so forth.

I like to write and read sex-positive stories, certainly. I have a story for another time about how sex-positive erotica is actually what made me understand feminism and become willing to call myself a feminist.

However, not all of my writing and reading is sex-positive, and there are a lot of complicated reasons for that. Roberta gives a nice account of why sex writing needs a range that includes the very unpleasant:

If sex is all metaphors, it can't always be a simple way to get happy. Sex can be a desperate, doomed attempt to bridge a gap in credibility or understanding. It can be an extreme form of exploitation. It can be the event that turns a high school girl who is desperate to fit in into a target for contempt from everyone she knows. It can be an attempt to prove something improvable. Sex can be an act of self-hatred, or hatred of the other. It can be the means by which invading armies literally colonize the bodies of civilians, hoping to impregnate as many "enemy women" as possible. Sex, broadly defined, can destroy both body and soul.

Should erotic writers avoid saying anything disturbing about sex? The terms "adult" and "mature" are often used as euphemisms for sexual content, yet to avoid mentioning any negative emotions (guilt, hatred, rage, fear, despair, regret, etc.) in connection with sex is to limit oneself to a fairly childish view of the world.

I started writing erotica because it's the genre where I feel most honest as a writer. It's the subject on which I really have something to say. And I'd definitely be lying if I pretended all my experience with sex has been pleasant or positive. Sometimes, I feel strange about the range of my work. I worry that some of my dark work for Forbidden Fiction, for example, would freak out readers who enjoyed, say, my light piece in the Cleis erotic romance anthology, Passion. I also worry that readers who like the dark stuff will find my happy endings fluffy. But I need that full range to say all of what I have to say about sex, and I try not to censor myself in either direction.

Call for Submissions: Girl on Girl

Leigh Ellwood is looking for sexy F/F shorts (2,500-10,000 words) for an anthology she's editing for Coming Together. As with all Coming Together titles, proceeds will go to charity -- in this case, the National Center for Lesbian Rights. For full details about what she's looking for, check out her guest post at Beyond Romance.

Review: Sex Is All Metaphors

Sex Is All Metaphors by Jean Roberta

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Sex Is All Metaphors collects Jean Roberta's nonfiction columns about sex. It's a strong, engaging read, well worth the time.

Jean Roberta writes about the politics, practicalities, and ethics of sex with cogent passion. She seems to engage all of herself to make her points — body, mind, and heart - and this gives powerful integrity to the positions she takes.

I didn't agree with everything she says, but every column gave me food for thought. She is quite liberal, and so am I, so it was nice to find that her positions still challenged me (I feel weird whenever I read something that makes me think I'm in an echo chamber).

Roberta's essays ring with voice and personality. She tackles plenty of subjects that are taboo in mainstream culture, and plenty more that are taboo even among the erotica writing community her columns first addressed.

This book is a simple collection, in chronological order, of columns from July 2008 to November 2010. Therein lies my main quibble. In single-author essay collections, I enjoy the sense that single writings piece together throughout the work to construct a larger argument over time. I don't think that happens when pieces are read in simple chronology. I'd have loved if the pieces were arranged topically, or ordered to build on each other a bit more. As it was, the book ended abruptly after the last essay, when the designated period of time covered ended, and I was left wishing it had ended with some sort of statement of summation (or even a previously-written essay that could serve as such).

With a clear afterword or more sense of completion, this book would have been a 5 for me.



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Music Mondays: "I Just Had Sex" by Lonely Island (featuring Akon)

"I'll never go back to the not-having-sex ways of the past."
-- Akon



This is a pretty silly example of sexy music, but try singing a few renditions of the rousing chorus and see if you don't wind up grinning and a little horny. I think my favorite thing about the video is how happy Akon looks while he's singing. For all the satiric lyrics about "best 30 seconds of my life," I think this song succeeds in capturing a little of the genuine wonder of sex. As in, "Can you believe that hot person actually wanted me to touch him/her?"

Ellora's Cave

I realized I forgot to pass on some big recent news. I've got a novel coming out with Ellora's Cave. It'll probably be a bit before it comes out since the process is just getting started with them, but I'm excited and can't wait to share this thing.

The novel is called Get Laid, and it's the story of a frustrated married couple who resolve to get out of the house and get laid, whatever the cost. Through a series of hot adventures and wild mishaps, they develop a new relationship with each other.

Writing this book surprised me, since I've always thought of myself as someone who couldn't write humor. This book came out fun and light-hearted in a way that pleases me (and I hope you).

I'll give plenty more details as the book's release approaches!

Review: Like a Veil: Erotic Tales of the Arabian Nights

Like a Veil: Erotic Tales of the Arabian Nights by Cecilia Tan

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



I remember reading The Arabian Nights when I was younger, and being captivated, both because I love old stories of magic and wonder, and because I was fascinated by every bawdy phrase I encountered. Like a Veil is a rare achievement — it truly captures the spirit of the source material, without being constrained by it.

This anthology is slim — it contains only four stories. Those four, however, manage to cover a lot of ground. It includes m/m, m/f, and f/f pairings. A couple of the stories follow the classic formula, and are set in a world that would merge smoothly with that of the Arabian Nights. One is a far future SF piece, and another is set in the modern world.

I found the book very sensual, but not the sort of thing I would use for one-handed reading. Sex is present in the stories, integral to them, and lushly described, but poetry generally wins out over the sort of dirtiness that gets me off. For readers who prefer their sex sensual and beautiful, the book may have quite a different effect.

I'm giving the book five stars because of the reasons I mentioned up top. I like to evaluate books on whether they achieve their goals, and I believe Like a Veil delivers on everything it promises — very much so.

Whenever I began to find a story predictable, it twisted, in a fresh way (much like the source material, which is filled with stories nested within stories). Whenever I thought I knew where I would be transported, the next story carried me further away.

For much of the book, there's a theme of fleeting encounters, but the editor wisely ended with a romantic piece that promised much more, in a poignant, moving, and powerful way.

That last piece is really the standout story for me. It's "The Eater of Stories" by Sophia Deri-Bowen, and it warmed me and hurt me at the same time. I can't think of a more fitting ending to this collection, and I'd recommend this particular story to anyone. It's on the strength of "The Eater of Stories" that my rating for Like a Veil bumped up from 4 to 5.



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Touched by Death Print Edition!

The good folks at Forbidden Fiction have just released a print edition of Touched by Death, an anthology of (very) dark erotica that includes my story, Less Than a Day.

Here's the official description:

An Erotic Horror Anthology
Authored by D.M. Atkins, Luna Lawrence, Theda Black, Annabeth Leong, Jane Potter, Claryssa Berg, E.E. Grey, Ann Gimpel, Konrad Hartmann, Ruth Black, Kailin Morgan, Peter Tupper, Lon Sarver, Rylan Hunter

An anthology of erotic encounters with death. Stories of living people who have been touched by vampires, ghosts, zombies or other dead. A collection that balances sexy and horror in a way that makes readers squirm.

You can find links to all versions of the book here.

Review: Baby, You're Cold Inside

Baby, You're Cold Inside by Ivy Bateman

My rating: 3 of 5 stars



"Baby, You're Cold Inside" retells Charles Dickens's classic Christmas Carol with several fresh twists. From the beginning, I was intrigued by how Ivy Bateman would pull this off, since her viewpoint character is Lily Sinclair, a female, sexier version of Scrooge, who is quite unlikeable and unsympathetic. The story is a fairy tale, and as a result, suspension of disbelief and acceptance of surrealism are required of the reader.

I bought this book largely because of Victoria Miller's fantastic cover art. Not relevant to my review of the story, I suppose, but the art is so good that this point must be noted somewhere.

Ultimately, "Baby, You're Cold Inside" didn't quite work for me. Strong positives and strong negatives balanced into a three-star rating. In order to discuss them in detail, I'll be including spoilers from here on out. Be warned.

Positives:

- This retelling is a true example of what a remix should be. It doesn't slavishly follow the base narrative or do a simple conversion. It twists and reworks Dickens's tale, taking a well-known plot and making it mean something entirely different.

- Lily Sinclair is a complicated and interesting character. I kept wanting to know about her, and therefore kept reading despite the negatives discussed below.

- The romantic hero, Phillip, is more than a match for her. He is interesting, powerful, and also complicated. I bought the connection between the two of them.

- Sex scenes scattered throughout are varied and exciting. They will appeal particularly to those who like humiliation with their kink.

- The author's voice is lively and vibrant, filled with vivid description.

Negatives:

- I try not to ding books based on copy editing issues, because I know that's not necessarily the author's fault. That said, distracting grammar and punctuation errors abounded and nearly prevented me from finishing the book. In particular, comma use seemed consistently off, a few words were used incorrectly every time they appeared, many sentences seemed to be missing words, and run-on sentences occurred all too commonly. Zingers fill Lily's internal monologue and dialogue, but, unfortunately, these problems stood out to me the most in those passages. This meant that sections of the book that should have sparkled instead frustrated me.

- Bateman, as I noted above, created a complex character in Lily Sinclair, and kudos to her for circumventing the self-righteous moralization that could easily have stemmed from her source material. However, some inconsistencies really detracted from what Bateman was trying to do. Lily gives a key speech toward the end of the book in which she embraces herself as cold and bitchy and refuses to change. I liked where Bateman was going with that, but just couldn't buy some of the claims Lily made in the course of her argument. She says, for example, that men could behave the way she does and be praised for it. However, her behavior at the beginning of the book is so negligent that I couldn't believe this. No businessman would be praised for ignoring his business. I understand that some of the beginning scenes are played for laughs, but in this case the comedy undermines what Bateman seems to have intended as the message at the heart of the story. To compound matters, the big reveal, when Lily explains that many of her actions have been misinterpreted and taken the wrong way, didn't feel correctly paced. It happened too quickly and seemed out of step with the very vivid and cruel picture Bateman painted of her heroine at the beginning.

Food for Thought:

- Lily Sinclair seems like she would be a very exciting top for someone who was into humiliation. I was a bit disappointed Bateman didn't make better use of this quality. Her cruelty to her employees could be redeemed a great deal by consent.

- Much of Lily's behavior is clearly sexual harassment of her employees, and this is a bit of an uncomfortable thing for me. In a book so heavy on humiliation and manipulation, I wish the description would give a bit more warning. As a smaller point in relation to this, Lily claims she can get away with this behavior because her employees sign a "contract" consenting to it. I've encountered the evil contract trope before, and it always stretches my credulity. I could only deal with it in this story by reminding myself of the general surreality.

"Baby, You're Cold Inside" gave me a lot to think about. Often, when I'm not sure if I like a book, I end up taking more time with it, trying to identify what my issues are. This book had a fresh, creative quality that would bring me back to try more of the author's work in the future. I would worry, however, about being frustrated by problems similar to what I've highlighted in my list of negatives.



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2012: A Year in Statistics: Raw Numbers

I've been compiling some stats for 2012 now that it has ended, and wanted to post a few of the results. This was by far my most prolific year for erotica, largely due to some life changes that allowed me to spend more time writing it, and thanks to plenty of support and inspiration from my wonderfully kinky partner.

Without further ado, here are some writing stats for 2012:

I sold 29 pieces of erotica to publishers, ranging from flash fiction to novel-length.

22 of my erotic pieces were published, ranging from flash fiction to novella length.

In 2012, I wrote roughly 275,300 words of completed erotica (noting that this figure includes completed, edited works only, and only works that were entirely begun and finished within 2012).

I think I've done my part contributing to the smut in the world. Here's hoping for an even better 2013!

Review: Orgasmic: Erotica for Women

Orgasmic: Erotica for Women by Rachel Kramer Bussel

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



A specific goal of this anthology was to explore a wide territory, to represent many different ways that women can achieve orgasm. It achieves this ambition with flying colors, providing plenty of solid standards with a healthy dose of more unusual fare, including orgasms from piercing, horseback riding, smells, tantric sex, and more.

I particularly appreciated the emotional complexity of many pieces in the anthology, which lifted the book far above being a simple tool for getting off. Susie Hara's "Fixing the Pipes" glows with a warm, goofy sense of humor that becomes a lovely representation of loving marriage. "Hurdles" by Rowan Elizabeth portrays a couple's discomfort when the man can't make the woman come as easily as he might like. Andrea Dale's "All She Wanted" addresses a kinky pregnant woman's desire for the rough play that makes her come.

The story I personally found hottest was Lily Harlem's "Making Shapes," which used a dildo to capture the fantasy of having sex with two versions of the same man. A close runner up was Donna George Storey's "The Big O," which made me want to do Kegel exercises while also exploring the consequences of a lover away on an extended trip.

That said, Orgasmic passes the key test of well-written erotica: I was fascinated and engaged with the book even when I wasn't turned on. The material was solid from start to finish, and sufficiently diverse that the anthology never felt repetitive or predictable.



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Mischievous New Year's Resolutions

Mischief's authors have posted New Year's resolutions on the publisher's official blog, mine included. While most people seem to be saying they'll write more, I'm there going on about vintage underwear. Go figure.

And watch for my story, "Beginner's Luck," in Forever Bound, which will be out from Mischief in February!

Helping Vampires to Save the World

Guest Post by Lisabet Sarai!

Let's face it. Vampires are sexy. Something about the undead stirs up our juices. Perhaps it's their irresistible power. Even when we know the danger, we're so very tempted to surrender to their all-consuming lust. Maybe we want to comfort them, to save them a lonely, bloody eternity. Maybe we secretly crave immortality ourselves.

Vampires are frequently portrayed as evil or at least amoral, viewing humanity from the jaded perspective of centuries. Now, though, vampires are doing their part to save the world.

Coming Together: In Vein is a brand new collection of vampire-themed erotica and erotic romance edited by Lisabet Sarai. All sales of this novel-length volume support Doctors Without Borders (Médecins Sans Frontières). MSF works in nearly 70 countries providing medical aid to those most in need regardless of their race, religion, or political affiliation. Right now, despite being barred from the country, MSF doctors and nurses are in Syria, working with patients from both sides of the civil war. They're performing surgery in caves and sneaking into refugee camps to distribute desperately needed medications.

You can help MSF in its life-saving mission, simply by indulging your passion for vampires. Buy a copy of Coming Together: In Vein in ebook, Kindle format, or print. Enjoy! Then help spread the
word! Every copy we sell has the potential to save someone's life.

The list of contributors includes many names you'll recognize. Every one of these authors has provided his or her work free of charge, to support the charitable aims of the project. Furthermore, the editor is giving away a free copy of her short story collection Body Electric to everyone who buys a copy of Coming Together: In Vein. (For details of this offer, click here.)

You'll find an excerpt below – just to whet your appetite.

Sink your teeth into Coming Together: In Vein. Help our vampires save the world.

From “Willing” by Xan West

I pull out my blade and show it to him. His eyes widen and he whispers, "My safeword is chocolate." I am surprised. Most who frequent the fetish scene know nothing about real BDSM. That these are the first words out of his mouth shows that there may be more to this boy than I thought. I stand still, watching him. He is older than I had first surmised, at least twenty four. The little leather he wears is well kept, his belt clearly conditioned and his boots cared for by a loving hand. He is motionless, knees slightly bent, shoulders back, offering me his chest. His pulse is not rapid, but his eyes eat up the knife and his lips are slightly parted, as if all he wanted was to take my blade down his throat.

His brown eyes stay fixed on the knife as I move toward him. I tease his lip with the tip of it and then speak softly.

"How black do you flag?"

His eyes stay on the blade. He swallows.

"Very black, on the right, Sir."

"Is there anything I need to know?"

"I am healthy and strong. My limits are animals, children, suspension and humiliation, Sir."

"And blood, hmmm?" I am teasing. I know the answer. It is why I found him here, and not at the Lure.

"Oh please, Sir. I would gladly offer my blood."

"Why?"

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes a moment, and then opens them. The pulse in his throat starts racing, but his voice is calm, and matter-of-fact. I tease my blade against his neck.

"I have been watching you a long time, Sir. I have seen how you play. I see the beast inside you. I know what is missing. Those boys at The Lure don't know how to give you what you really need. They don't see that they are barely feeding your craving, and not touching your hunger. The boys here don't see you. They just see their own fantasy. They are simply food. I am strong, Sir. Strong enough for you. I can be yours. My blood, my flesh, my sex, my service. Yours to take however you choose, for as long as you want. To slake your hunger. I would be honored, Sir."

I take a deep breath, stunned, studying him. This boy who would offer what I never really thought was possible. He has surprised me again. That alone shows this boy is more than a meal. He just might be able to be all that he has offered.

Review: Two in the Bush

Two in the Bush by Giselle Renarde

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



I love the concept of Giselle Renarde's Wedding Heat series -- horny guests taking advantage of a wedding to get together in a variety of inventive ways. She's written that she thinks of it the way she would a TV show, so the installments are written in "seasons." I think this is a nice way to take a technique that works on film and apply it to the written word.

Meta-comments aside, "Two in the Bush" was a very hot read -- one of the sexiest stories I've encountered in a while. At its core is an M/F/F menage with hints of a D/s power dynamic (though there's nothing explicitly BDSM). This story absolutely passed the arousal test for me, and surprisingly so. These days, I read so much erotica that not all of it actually gets me. In this case, I was drawn in by inventive actions and positions and that little hint of domination.

That said, I also believe in evaluating a work of erotica on the merits of its writing (somewhat objective), not just how much it turned me on (which obviously includes a heavily subjective element). I don't think "Two in the Bush" is intended as a high literary work, but it's well-written in a number of ways. Renarde's base plot is, in essence, a sweet love story. Her concept and execution, however, turn common assumptions about that archetype on its head. This alone provides a refreshing turn to the story.

The sex is fresh and varied, not routine or formulaic. Following what she does with the plot, Renarde expertly toys with common themes, utilizing them while adding her own twist. The language surprised me at times, with some unusual word choices providing vivid imagery and deeper characterization.

Renarde also writes dirty talk very well -- arousing and realistic, but avoiding some of the cheesiness it's all too easy to fall into. In "Two in the Bush," the dirty talk is important to the characters as well as to the heat of the scene, because it proves to be transformative for one, if not both, of the base couple. I'm referring to a bit of subtext here, but I think that the character responsible for most of the dirty talk uses that language to make the other characters look at themselves in a different way.

I think that, aside from arousal, the best reason to write out a sex scene rather than hint at it is to show characterization. Renarde's main character, Irene, is well drawn throughout the story, but the main characterization for the other two comes through the sex. The view of how they behave in the bedroom is the main vehicle for discovering who these people are. That works.

There's also a touch of politics here. Renarde's portrayal of Irene's body shape and image provides a strong affirmation of the beauty of plus-sized women.

I will absolutely read more in this series.



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Review: The Best American Erotica 1996

The Best American Erotica 1996 by Susie Bright

My rating: 5 of 5 stars



This book will always be special to me because it was the first work of erotica I owned, bought from a library sale as surreptitiously as I could manage. I don't know how it would feel to read it with fresh eyes today, but I'll always view its pages through the unbearably heady haze of lustful naughtiness I felt the first time out.

The book contains old favorites that I've revisited many times, particularly "The Perfect Fit," a shoe fetish piece by Katya Andreevna, Cecelia Tan's fantasy "Pearl Diver," "The Hit," a brutal and brutally hot m/m BDSM piece by Steven Saylor, writing as Aaron Travis, "Choke Hold," an even darker piece by Lucy Taylor, and "His Little Plan Backfired," a tart little story about a vibrating chastity belt by Amelia Copeland.

As you can see, there's a lot of variety here. There's likely something for everyone, but also plenty that's unlikely to appeal to the specifics of a given reader's kink. As a horny younger person looking to get off, I was frustrated by several literary pieces that didn't really turn me on, but I don't mind them as a reader now. And there are other pieces that don't do it for me but also fascinate me, such as Doug Tierney's oddly romantic "The Portable Girlfriend," and David Shields's sweet piece, "Girls Who Wear Glasses."

I also had no idea at the time I bought this book how much it pushes boundaries. Many of the commonly outlawed "squicks" are represented in this collection, or at least toyed with. "Choke Hold," which I called out above, is incredibly disturbing, aside from being very arousing to me. There are a lot of different gender combinations, flavors ranging from vanilla to kink, and so forth. I think this book set expectations that doomed me to disappointment for some time afterward.

I'm grateful to it for giving me a broad landscape of fantasies that I felt free to privately explore. Thanks to this book, I had hard evidence I wasn't the only one turned on by several of my darker or stranger inclinations. I plan to keep my copy in perpetuity -- it has already survived many extensive purges of my shelves.



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Neat Collection

I've just found out that Coming Together has collected the first five titles in the Coming Together: Neat series into an omnibus edition. This includes my novella, The Six Swans, as well as work by Jenna Byrnes, Wendy Stone, Giselle Renarde, and Rachel Green.

The omnibus is available in paperback or as an e-book. The five titles together come out to a hefty 324 pages, so it's a solid read for the money.

As with all Coming Together: Neat titles, all proceeds go to support entrepreneurs around the world on Kiva. If you'd like to see where mine have gone, check out my Kiva lending page here.