Thursday, February 25, 2016

On Taking the Shot

At Oh Get a Grip, we're currently posting about "other skills." I wrote my piece about rock climbing, and how my risk-averse ways in that sport have given me insight into other ways that I'm risk averse in life:

Early on, one of my teachers commented on my incredible strength in the context of a bad habit. I have a way of going for dynamic moves without committing to them, catching and holding myself in awkward midair positions that take, he pointed out, way more muscle and skill than just going all in for the next hold. I've worked hard to break that habit, but it's still a real problem for me. I can't tell you how many times I've gotten to the almost-top of a bouldering route and just... not taken the last move. I've heard people groan in disappointment when I jumped off without even taking a shot.

You can read the whole thing here.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Out in 2016

Last year was a quiet year for me. I wrote much less than I did in the few years previous, both on my blog and in terms of stories and novels. I think I needed that retreat, even though it felt very uncomfortable at the time.

One reason for that slowness and relative silence was that I had a lot of private stuff I was working out. I'm not and have never been particularly comfortable with sorting things out in public. I'm generally happy to tell people about the thing that was bothering me six months ago—I've had time to figure out where I stand with respect to that and heal up a little bit. Talk about what's bothering me right now? Not so much.

It always seemed strange and cruel to me that these days writers are expected to participate so much in social media. Publishing, for me, is an excruciatingly public thing that I have a lot of mixed feelings about. In order to write, I need a lot of privacy, not just in a physical way but also in a mental way. It's hard for me to be in public every day, Internet included.

That said, I think part of why I've held myself back is that I'm afraid of saying things I shouldn't say, for whatever reason. For example, I've been incredibly frustrated for years about the way covers in erotica and erotic romance so often feature straight, white, thin-bodied people. If you judged by the covers of the books my work has been in, you'd have no idea what my writing is actually about, what my social justice values are. This cover thing has happened not only for anthologies I've participated in, but also for books I've written entirely myself. And yet, it's not something I've talked about publicly. I was always afraid that doing so would make me a "difficult" author. I was afraid of appearing angry in public.

My mood this year feels a little different. I had to retreat for a while, yes, but I've also been holding a lot of myself in, and I feel done with that for the moment.

So I want to try being more open on this blog. I want to talk about some of the things I'm angry about, because it's burning me up to hold back on all those things. I also want to talk about who I am, to the best of my knowledge. I've had a lot of turmoil over the past couple of years, figuring out who I am as a writer, as far as orientation, within the kink community, you name it. I feel less afraid than I used to of being myself in the open.

So if you're reading this, wish me luck. I'm a queer, poly, kinky, mixed-race woman, and I want to be out in 2016.

Monday, February 22, 2016

Give and Take: 20th Anniversary Edition of Best Lesbian Erotica


Comment on any of the posts on the tour for a chance to win a free copy of Best Lesbian Erotica 20th Anniversary Edition. The drawing will be held by February 28th and the winner announced by March 5th.


The first time I saw L, she was at a local open mic with her guitar player. I could hear her from down the street belting out Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" and Stevie Ray Vaughan's "Pride and Joy." It wasn't just the power of her voice that grabbed me, though. It was that she didn't bother to change the gender when she covered songs by men, and hearing her sing, "I love my baby, she's long and lean," did something to me down deep.

It's hard for me to explain how ignorant I was about lesbian desire when I was first feeling it. Everything felt so impossible that I couldn't even figure out what it was I wanted, what exactly I was thinking about. I only barely knew that women could be together, and it sort of seemed like at least one woman would need to have short hair and "be the man."

I wish I could say that this was how I thought when I was super-young and still virginal, but at this point I had already been sleeping with a particular girl, off and on, for years. The thing I couldn't understand was that these things could count, that this desire had real weight and shape and value, and that a woman could get up on stage and sing, loudly, "She's my sweetie little thing."

I followed L to all her shows, and I couldn't get enough of staring at her. Maybe I couldn't quite imagine making out with her, or being loved by her, but I did know that I wanted to be in her presence, as much as she would let me. And gradually she began to allow me to follow her to other places, to IHOP when she was tired after hours of singing, or to her best friend's house. I have since read early lesbian novels such as Olivia and Carol, and one of the major things they seem to describe is this feeling, of wanting to be in a particular fascinating woman's presence, even if one isn't quite sure of what one wants to happen next.

I remember this giant, gaping need. More than anything, I needed every minute I could get of her attention. Something about her permission to do anything at all with her gave me permission, in a deep way I couldn't articulate, to exist.

There was another side to it, though. She needed something from me, too, even if it wasn't love. She understood the nature of my attention, I think, the worshipfulness of it, and she needed that to exist as proof that she wasn't wasting her time with her music, that she was worth watching, that she herself was worthwhile. She enjoyed using her power over me. "You can ride with me," she would promise sometimes, and I'm sure she knew that I would agree to nearly anything in exchange.

My story in the 20th Anniversary Edition of Best Lesbian Erotica isn't about L. But it is about that mutual need, and I thought about L when I was writing it. I spun that situation around so I could write about it from several sides at once. There's a young musician and an older musician, and they both need and are needed.

Here's an excerpt:

The first time I kissed a rock star, I thought she would taste pampered and expensive. But musicians don't get lives of luxury. Violet's lips were rough. Her tongue carried hints of the flavors of roadside diners. Her muscles felt ropey when I gripped her upper arms.

She kissed me back with familiar desperation. I played with the edges of her T-shirt sleeves as I planned the things I wanted to do to her. When I let up on the kiss, Violet was looking at me like I had some kind of answer. Feeling bad because I knew I didn't, I shook my head at her. "Maybe you'll be sorry about this in the morning."

"I won't be."

"How do you know?"

She bit her lip and didn't say anything.

"Different venue every night," I said. "I get it." It was so stupid that this stung. If I knew one thing, it was this. Thirty hours, tops. A desperate exchange, and neither of us would realize what we'd given or received until much later.


I kissed her again before she could fumble for a compliment she didn't quite mean. I carried Violet to my bed. I wanted to give her the orgasm of her life, something she'd be chasing for days or weeks to come. Even if she didn't remember my name later, I wanted to be sure she never forgot how I made her feel.

You can find the 20th Anniversary Edition of Best Lesbian Erotica at Amazon US, Amazon UK, Barnes and Noble, your favorite indie bookstore, and more.

You can see the other posts in the tour at the links below. :)

Feb 10
Sacchi Green-Introduction

Feb. 11
Rose de Fer-“Dust”

Feb. 12
Louise Blaydon-“Ascension”

Feb 13
MeganMc Ferren-“The Royalty Underground”

Feb. 14
Harper Bliss-“Reunion Tour”

Feb 15
D.L. King-“Hot Blood”

Feb 16
Jean Roberta-“Tears from Heaven”

Feb 17
Sinclair Sexsmith-“Luscious and Wild”

Feb 18
R.G. Emanuelle-“Smorgasbord”

Feb 19
Rose P. Lethe-“A Professional”

Feb 20
Anna Watson-“Easy”

Feb 21
Valerie Alexander-“Grind House”

Feb 22
Annabeth Leong-“Give and Take”

Feb 23
Frankie Grayson-“Mirror Mirror”

Feb 24
Cheyenne Blue-“The Road to Hell”

Feb 25
Emily L. Byrne-“The Further Adventures of Miss Scarlet”

Feb 26
Sossity Chiricuzio-“Make them Shine”

Feb 27
Teresa Noelle Roberts-“Tomato Bondage”

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Now Is Not a Good Time

A while ago, I wrote a series of essays about my experiences of street harassment, and I noted that I often say, "Thank you," in response—not because I'm grateful, but because I've found that it's generally the fastest way out of the situation. In my experience, cursing at someone in reply risks starting a confrontation I'm not prepared for. Saying nothing often leads to the harasser pursuing some type of reply ("Hey! Did you hear me? I said, 'Hi, beautiful!'"). Saying anything else forces me to think more than I'm able to in the moment. So I default to thank you even though it settles in my stomach and burns me later because it seems to be the response most likely to end the encounter quickly and safely.

Sometimes, though, saying thank you really hurts. I'll give you an example.

I recently attended a kink conference with a woman I've been seeing. We were having an emotional moment—we'd encountered some triggering material in one of the classes, and we stepped outside together to take a breath and process a little. She was sitting in a chair, and I was kneeling on the floor beside her, rubbing her back and offering comfort. She was talking to me about what had bothered her in the class.

Enter creepy random dude. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that he'd slowed his pace walking through the hall, and was eyeing us up. "You ladies look so beautiful like that," he said.

As often happens, my experience split in half—my brain doing one thing and my outward expression another.

My brain:

Really, asshole? You can't see that we're in the middle of something? What the hell makes you think your "compliment" is so important that it's worth interrupting us to insert it? I wish you would go away and leave us alone. I don't have the energy to deal with this right now, not on top of everything else.

My outward expression:

Tight smile. Mumbled: "Thank you." Quick return of my attention to my girlfriend, slight shift of my body language to put my back to him a little more, to shield her a little from his scrutiny.

Dude picks up on approximately none of this, or chooses to ignore it, and walks back and forth several more times, circling us, obviously wanting to receive more attention. Finally, he drifts off and I breathe a sigh of relief.

Because I was already having a hard time, because I was already dealing with being triggered, because I was focused on trying to be present with her and her emotions, and for a million other reasons, this guy's attention felt beyond unwelcome, threatening, and violating.

This particular incident felt like a breaking point to me. I don't mean thank you! I just feel like I have to say it! What I really want, desperately, is to be left alone. To be able to be in public without being treated like public property.

So I've give a lot of thought to something that could take the place of thank you. It needs to be something I think I can actually say, something that I don't think will increase the risk to me (or anyone who happens to be with me). What I've come up with is: "Now is not a good time." It's true, and I hope it will save me from appearing to express gratitude to a person who is making me feel unsafe and intruded upon.

And a word to the wise: now is never a good time. I do not want to be randomly approached in public with a sexual motive by anyone ever. I gather that many people feel the same way.

Another idea I have, something I wish I knew how to implement: a black armband that communicates this information. In debates I've seen on this topic, I see people saying that it's confusing for them. They want to be "friendly" and meet people (as in potential sexual partners), but it's so hard to tell how to do that. For me, the answer is don't. I want to go about my business in the world without unwanted sexual attention. I wish there was something I could wear that would inform the public to that effect. Like, some kind of real-life version of the do-not-call list. I am not kidding that I would wear a black armband every day if that (or some similar wardrobe item) would communicate this information to the general public.

I've been to one con (Bound in Boston) that had a version of this (a black lei that signaled you weren't interested in being approached). I wish it was standard procedure at kinky events. I am not there as entertainment for others. I'm there as a human in my own right.

And, just a side comment, I notice that when I attend a kink event with another woman, I experience an increase in people who apparently believe their random intrusions and comments are welcome. I'm not there with a woman to have that relationship vetted, approved of, or admired by men. Really, I'm not. I wish there was something I could put on that would say so without forcing me to have lots of interactions with inconsiderate people.

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Out Now – Sweet Spot by Lucy Felthouse

I remember when Lucy Felthouse's Sweet Spot was originally released, as part of the same series that inspired my book, Heated Leather Lover. I'm happy to see it released again. It's a fun story! :D So, I thought I'd share the details.


Virginia Miller is an up-and-coming tennis star. She’s gone from a ratty tennis court in a park in south London, England, to the world’s top training facility—Los Carlos Tennis Academy in California. In awe of the talent around her, Virginia is all the more determined to make the most of the opportunity and show that she’s worthy of her place there. Her mentor, Nadia Gorlando, has every faith in her.

But Virginia finds herself distracted—Nadia, as well as being a top-notch tennis player, is seriously sexy, and Virginia’s mind keeps wandering where it shouldn’t. Will her crush get in the way of her career, or can she find a way to push the other woman out of her mind before it’s too late?

Please note: This is a re-released title with a new cover—the book content hasn’t changed.

Other buy links



Nadia Gorlando and I had just gotten off the exercise bikes in the gym when one of the academy’s coaches, Peter Ross, headed over to us, all smiles.

“Hey, Nadia,” he said, his all-American grin widening and his blond hair flopping down over his forehead, “I need a huge favor.”

I flicked my gaze to Nadia. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows and waited for him to continue. He did.

“I totally lost track of time just now and I have an appointment with Travis Connolly. Would you mind wiping down my machine for me? Or maybe stick a note on it saying it’s out of order? I don’t want to leave it all sweaty for someone else. You’ll be doing me a real solid. I’ll owe you.”

My jaw almost hit the floor.

Now Nadia rolled her eyes, looked over at the offending machine, then back at Peter. “Sure, I understand,” she said, as cool as ice. “The world’s number one can’t wait. Go right ahead—I’ll fix it for you.”

He babbled a load of thanks, then jogged out of the gym.

I gaped at her. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”

Nadia chuckled. “Of course not. He may be coaching Travis Connolly and Rufus Lampani for the US Open, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to clean up his mess.” She pointed with her chin over to the machine Peter had just vacated. “Come on, V, I’ll show you how I’m going to deal with this.”

I followed her, grinning. Her tone told me that it was going to be something fun. Well, for us, anyway. Probably not for Peter.

Sure enough, when she returned from the room off the side of the gym, she had a pad of paper and a pen in her hands. Deliberately shielding the pad from my view, she wrote something down, then pulled off the top sheet. Folding it, she then propped it on the sweat-slicked seat so the writing was on view to anyone who happened past.

When I’d read and absorbed the words, I turned to Nadia, impressed. Her smile lit up her face, showing dimples in each cheek, and her brown eyes gleamed with amusement.

It was in that moment that I decided I had the serious hots for Nadia Gorlando.

The sign read,



Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at:

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day!

I have been thinking a lot about a post I read that questioned the heteronormativity of this holiday. I have two partners right now, one male and one female, and it's interesting to observe the differences in how I feel I should be acting toward each of them.

There's a whole morass of gender-related issues about who pays for what, who takes who out, and who spends time with who, and where any of this happens.

But in the end, all I want is to show them both that I care, to honor the connections between us.

It's already difficult not to fall into corporate expectations that may not match what the people involved actually want. I find that societal ideas of what men and women are supposed to do add another layer of complexity for me.

So what I'm going to try to do today is acknowledge both of the partners in my life for being the special people they are. I want to listen to their needs. I want to speak my own truths. I want to show them kindness and do my best to accept the kindness they offer me. One of the major things I notice when I step back from heteronormativity is that I have a lot of ideas, not only of who is supposed to do what when, but also about what it's okay to accept or need.

Here's to being real, in love and in lust. Here's to showing up with my authentic self, and to appreciating the authentic selves of others.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Fetish Fair Fleamarket

Today, I can be found at the Fetish Fair Fleamarket in Warwick. Specifically, I'll be participating in two author readings: one at 10:45 a.m. in room 623 and one at 8 p.m. in Barrington.

I'll also be going to as many foot-related classes as my schedule allows. Assuming I'm not about to completely collapse after my night-time reading, I am totally going to a class about the foot fetishist as top, taught by P.E.T.E., one of my favorite, New England-area educators. This class is really interesting to me because it is an attempt to push back against the idea that foot fetishists are all submissive males.

The footie scene in New England has been really wonderful to me, and I'm forever happy to be involved with a group that has given me room to express my decidedly queer foot-related sexuality. I'm looking forward to seeing my feeps!

I'm still figuring out what to read during my two slots as of writing this post (several days ahead—don't worry!). Because I've got footies on the brain, I am tempted to read from one of the many foot scenes that somehow popped up in my writing. I may well do that—I'm considering scenes from Challenge Accepted or Icarus Bleeds or Never Not a Priest (which appears in the Devout anthology).

There are other things going on at the Flea, though. I'm thinking about my kinky butch-femme novella, Heated Leather Lover, and wondering if it's time to give a spotlight to the leather-fetish-having Yasmin. Then there's my love of masturbation and the many wild masturbation scenes in The Passenger.

Sometimes, it's also nice to read stuff that hasn't come out yet. There is a modern Arthurian retelling novel I've been working on for a while with a very sexy version of Galahad (as a queer mixed-race woman), and I've been thinking of pulling up some of her scenes.

So I'm not sure which of these things will make an appearance at the Flea, but maybe some of you will be there and will find out in person! For my part, when not reading, I'll be ogling the shoes...

Friday, February 12, 2016


Tonight, I'll be at Sticky Stories in downtown Providence performing "Lovefool," a piece about my first queer relationship and the awkward way I got into it. You can probably still get a ticket if you would like to come!

One of the major themes of my piece is the way I found myself driven to vulgarity to avoid being dismissed as someone who was just kidding about my desire for women. Here's a very short excerpt:

After the show was over, we went back to class, and I declared, “Everyone wanted to fuck her after that.”

“All the guys,” someone corrected me. I think she was trying to throw me a #NoHomo assist, but a) that expression is gross, and b) it definitely didn’t apply to me.

I shook my head. “Everyone. Including me.”

I was being a pig, I know. That was the only way I knew to expression attraction for women. It felt like anything less wouldn’t be acknowledged, would get softened in everybody’s mind until they heard me saying, “Pam is so pretty and sweet. I’d love to play My Little Ponies with her and maybe braid each other’s hair.”

I'm so looking forward to this show!

Thursday, February 11, 2016

At Oh Get A Grip: What I'm Reading

The current topic at Oh Get A Grip is what we're reading. I love talking about that, so I didn't show much restraint.

I posted about the four most recent books I've read: Suki Kim's Without You, There Is No Us; Harper Bliss's French Kissing; Daniel Jose Older's Half Resurrection Blues; and Patricia Highsmith's Carol. That last one is still in progress. I also posted about what I'm hoping to read: stories for my the new book I'm editing, Coming Together: Positively Sexy.

Also, if it's fun for you to see what I've been reading lately, you can check out my Goodreads profile, too. I sometimes fall out of updating it, but I've been paying attention to it so far this year.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Announcing: Coming Together: Positively Sexy

I'm editing another book!

It's going to be called Coming Together: Positively Sexy, and it's an anthology of erotica focused on characters living and loving while STI-positive. All proceeds will benefit the Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health, a sexuality education and training organization that works to reduce sexual shame, challenge misinformation, and advance the field of sexuality.

For so many reasons, I'm thrilled that this project is happening.

I love the CSPH deeply as an organization—it is not an exaggeration to say it has changed my life and given me much-needed sanctuary.

And I think this is a subject that needs to be explored. I have read so much erotica, and I can't recall ever seeing a character who was STI-positive. (If you have run across this, I am really interested to know where. Leave a comment or email me!)

Once I realized this lack, it became incredibly glaring to me. I got into writing erotica because I wanted to speak about the unspoken. There is so much revealed in people's sex lives. I am fascinated by the vulnerability and exposure. And yet, in the years I've been writing erotica, I've become disheartened by what I tend to hide. By typically presenting a fantasyland in which STIs don't exist, I have missed out on a huge part of what I think it is our calling as erotica writers to explore.

I want and have always wanted to write about sex, in all its strangeness and beauty and difficulty. I enjoy fantasies, and I am also interested in realities. By picking up on unspoken "rules," and shying away from portraying STIs, I have turned away from writing about the world I actually know.

I remember being diagnosed with HPV when I was in my early 20s and plunging into a morass of shame and confusion. I honestly didn't really know what HPV was or meant—and it felt like I couldn't get the information I needed, no matter how many questions I asked or how many things I looked up. I had such a poor understanding of STIs that I truly believed for a while that being diagnosed with it meant I would have to be celibate for the rest of my life. It is only in the past few years that I have become able to talk about parts of my history like this in a matter-of-fact way, informed by medically accurate information, not overshadowed by crushing shame and a sense of dirtiness.

I got pretty spotty education about STIs in the first place—and I recognize I was lucky to have avoided the abstinence-only approach that passes for "education" in many American schools. I remember most vividly the scare tactics that were used in my health class—the giant pictures of warts and lesions that made them look like dangerous space anomalies. I remember being told to use condoms, but not being told anything about what one might do if one ended up getting an STI or wanting to sleep with someone who had one.

I have cried with shame while disclosing my sexual history with a new partner. I have cringed at the sight of the capital letters HPV highlighted in pink on a form at the doctor's office.

When I was younger (before my HPV diagnosis), I had partners ask (while trying to convince me not to use a condom), "You're a clean girl, aren't you?" As if that was due diligence for STI prevention. As if there was any way to answer that question well or honestly. As if I hadn't already asked to use a condom.

There are also stories that aren't mine to tell, about people I've known who have lived with shame and judgement when I don't think they should have to.

The point of all this is that I'm a person who has lived and loved after an STI diagnosis, and I know plenty of other people who have, too. And I've never seen myself represented in the genre I have worked in since 2008. I have never represented myself in my own genre.

I say that knowing that HPV is common, an STI that is sometimes dismissed as something "everybody" has. What does it say that I've felt so much shame and hesitation about something so common? What does it say that I've never felt safe writing about it?

I came up with the idea for this book late last year, in the midst of some feelings of burnout. For several years, I had been writing as hard and fast as I could, pouring my soul into my stories and also constantly producing them. There were things going on in the erotica industry that were messing with my livelihood and breaking my heart. I found that a lot of my work seemed to be too weird or too queer or too dark or too something. Untouched had come out, and I never anticipated how naked and exposed that book would make me feel.

When I began writing, I believed I had things to say that were important, things that only I could say. Increasingly, though, I found myself abandoning stories, questioning whether they mattered at all.

I took a step back and began to ask myself if I had anything still to say, if I thought I still could do things in this field that needed to be done. After a period of soul searching, the idea for this book came to me. I couldn't convince myself that the world cared about or needed a lot of things I could choose to work on—this, though, was different. I believe that Coming Together: Positively Sexy could make a real difference to its readers, to its writers, and to me, as editor.

Any time my will as an artist has flagged, the answer has always been to go harder, go deeper, expose more. That is all that feels true to me, the only thing I have in the end.

I need and want this book to exist. But I can't make it happen on my own. I need more perspectives than the one I've got. I need a lot of different stories. Maybe what I need is your voice.

You can find the full call for submissions here.

If you have any questions, please email me at

(Also, many thanks to Melanie at the CSPH, who helped me come up with the name for this book!)

MakerSex cover and TOC

I am so pleased to announce that MakerSex: Erotic Stories of Hackers, Geeks, and DIY Projects will be out in March! (Exact date TBA). This was my first editing project for Circlet Press, and I'm so excited to share it with you.

Here is the (absolutely gorgeous!) cover:

And the table of contents:

Introduction by Annabeth Leong

The Not So Wholesome Origins of Cuddle-Bot by Lillian Marguerite

Making Love by Renata Piper

Shiny New Toy by Moxie Marcus

The Junkyard by TS Porter

Lightning Then, and Motion by Eric Del Carlo

The Forge by Kelly Rose Pflug-Back

Look for more news about this soon! :) If you use tumblr, you can watch for much more news about the book here. If you're interested in reviewing the book on Amazon or Goodreads, please drop me a line at annabeth dot circlet at outlook dot com.

Saturday, February 6, 2016

Annabeth Leong Goes All the Places

Guys! You have so many chances to see me this month!

On Friday, February 12th, I will be at AS220 in downtown Providence performing a piece called "Lovefool." It's about my first girlfriend, contains Spice Girls references, and is super vulgar (partly because a point I'm making is that people often seem to want to turn attraction between women into something sweet and harmless). Sticky Stories is a really awesome event, and you should come for so many reasons, not just me. Also, you should come to find out what I mean when I say, "I want to braid her hair."

You can buy tickets here.


If you miss Sticky Stories, though, never fear. You have two chances to catch me at the Fetish Fair Fleamarket in Warwick on February 13th, the very next day!

I'll be reading from some of my kinky work at the authors readings at 10:45 a.m. in room 623 and 8 p.m. in Barrington.

Expect to hear from Challenge Accepted, Heated Leather Lover, The Passenger, or maybe something else surprising! Also expect to shiver with delight at the sight of Laura Antoniou and Cecilia Tan in the flesh and reading to you.

You can get tickets to the Flea here. You can learn more about the event here.


On February 26th, from 7-9:30 p.m., I'll be in New York City at Bluestockings Books, a radical bookstore and activist center focused on feminism, queer studies, and a lot of other cool topics. I think it is a sign that my life is going in the right direction that I've been invited here. I'll be reading there from "Give and Take" alongside other authors from the 20th anniversary edition of Best Lesbian Erotica. Come count which of us have alternative lifestyle haircuts, and discover which stories turn you on to an uncomfortable degree in a public space! Also, this event is free!

More information about the event is here.


On March 26th, from 2-4 pm, I will be reading at my beloved Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. It will, of course, be awesome to hear stories from the 20th anniversary edition of Best Lesbian Erotica, but you should come for the world's largest collection of antique vibrators, and the extensive library of books on sexuality, and the oddly cuddly stuffed representation of the herpes virus. Also free lube samples. If that description doesn't make you mark your calendar, I don't know what will.

The address is:
The Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health
The Grant Building, Unit 1/Box 11
250 Main Street, Pawtucket RI 02860

This event is too new to have an official listing yet, but it's happening, baby. And if you want to know more about the CSPH, you can visit their website here.


That's it for now, but there's a possibility I'll be appearing at a certain clean, well-lighted purveyor of sex toys in Brookline, MA, sometime in May. I'll keep you posted.

Here Again Temporarily

I know it's been a long time since I posted here. I've returned, though, at least temporarily, because my new website was hacked recently, in a way that I'm having trouble fixing. :(

That is a huge bummer, because it's a very beautiful website. And if you went to look at it with your naked eye, you'd still see a very beautiful website. However, hackers have injected some gross racially charged pornographic references into the file structure, which shows up when search engines go to my website, or when something grabs a preview of it.

(I found out about the hack while communicating with someone who uses hotmail. If you have seen a preview like this, I promise you that I absolutely do not endorse the gross racially charged porn that is unfortunately associated with my name at the moment.)

Anyway, this means that I'll be blogging here for the next little while. My books and links are out of date. But I keep my Amazon author profile fairly accurate and updated. Check it out! And thanks for sticking with me.