Goodbye Moderation: Gluttony

There's a lot of news I want to share here, but for now I'm going to throw that intriguing snippet up there. It's from a story I wrote for a recent release from Sexy Little Pages called Goodbye Moderation: Gluttony.

The story is very close to my heart because it works through some body image issues that came up during a relationship I had a while back.

I have complete faith in Sexy Little Pages, Zak Jane Keir as editor, and the other authors in the anthology--I am sure this book is great!

If you'd like to check it out, you can find more information here.

Unspeakably Erotic (Quite Likely) Out Today!

My friends, I am writing to you from the distant past (by which I mean April). April Annabeth wanted to be sure I would remember to share with you that D.L. King's new anthology of lesbian kink erotica, Unspeakably Erotic, is out today. It includes a story of mine, called "Simultaneous," which is super kinky and involves a dominant masochist, piercing, group sex, and fisting! I previously shared an excerpt of it here, and the table of contents here.

Here's the cover image I was given back in April:



Maybe you'd like to order this book? If so, here are links I found in April! Here's a link to the paperback edition, and one to the kindle edition.

So, rock on, April Annabeth, mission accomplished!

On the other hand, the reason I keep mentioning that I did all these things in April is that things could have changed. Those links could be broken now. The cover image might have changed due to an arcane new policy from Amazon about not showing ass cheeks. Or the publication date could have been pushed back. Or, gods forbid, this could all be irrelevant in the wake of some hideously destructive decision made by the disturbingly ignorant commander in chief of the U.S. of A. Who knows? If so, please forgive me! (And whoever else might be involved).

Whatever happens, my story is hot, and I'm pretty sure the others are, too. If you're here, please consider reading them, even if you have to search a little to find the correct links, or even raid the ruins of a bookstore or print shop in your current post-apocalyptic hellscape (Not that I wish that on you or anyone else. I'd really rather we all be able to comfortably sip tea and read erotica in our own homes, including immigrants and muslims, should they so choose.)

Knowing myself, I will probably leave this post as written because I enjoy these sorts of time capsules. So here's your message from the past, and your present exhortation to add something new and Unspeakably Erotic to your life.

<3 <3 <3

An Excerpt from Simultaneous

Hey, friends! I wanted to take an opportunity to remind you about D.L. King's anthology Unspeakably Erotic: 20 Stories of Lesbian Kink, which is scheduled to come out later this year. I thought this time I'd give you a taste of my story, "Simultaneous," which will appear in the anthology.

It's a story about a dominant woman who wants to get nipple piercings at the same moment she's getting fisted. Minnie, her girlfriend, is handling the piercing, and an acquaintance, Alice, is doing the fisting. (Can I pause here to acknowledge, as a person with a bit of a fantasy about stranger sex, how hot it is for me to think about getting fisted by an "acquaintance," though I know there are some issues there with practicality).

Anyway, here goes:

“Almost ready," Minnie says. "Everything is sterilized. I’m just getting organized.”

I feel her moving just beyond my field of vision. For a second, I wish I could have two Minnies. She knows how to fuck me just right. She knows how to make me feel split open in the best way, how to fill me more than I thought possible, how to push just past the point where I think I can’t take it anymore, and how to tell the difference between a desperate scream of pleasure and an incoherent cry for a break.

On the other hand, if I’m going to get nipple rings in a situation like this, and I’m planning to make them permanent, it has to be Minnie who gives them to me. She’s got the sense of timing required to make this work just the way I fantasized, she learned to pierce for me, and I want her to mark my body for life the way she has my heart and mind.

Besides, I’ve got no complaints about Alice’s technique. She’s spearing me enthusiastically with four fingers, and Minnie must have done a good job with the rope, because I’m shocked I’m not sliding all over the place under the force of her assault. Braced this way, I can’t do anything but absorb each of Alice’s thrusts, and I indulge a long whimper before forcing myself back to saying words.

“All right. Alice, ease off just a little so Minnie can set up.”

She gives it to me hard a couple more times, a challenging expression on her face, and then does as I’ve requested.

“Just stroke the G-spot lightly. Tickle it, almost.”

“Tickle, tickle.” Alice smirks.

It doesn’t tickle.

I take a deep breath, letting the pleasure surround me and press at the edges of me, without surrendering to it.

“Minnie, if you’re ready, come here.”

The stand’s wheels roll closer. Minnie puts a hand on my head. Her cool touch makes me realize how hot and sweaty Alice has gotten me.

“Make your marks now.”

“Yes, Miss.”

I’m so sensitive that I gasp when Minnie’s pen touches down on one side of my left nipple, marking a spot to guide how she inserts the needle. My cunt clutches around Alice’s fingers.

“Down, girl,” Alice teases. “I’ll get back to the good stuff in a minute.”

There'll be a lot more good stuff in the actual book. I posted the table of contents a few months ago here. If you'd like to preorder this, that would be awesome! There's a paperback edition and a kindle edition.

For the Love of a Solider Out Today!

Hey friends! According to what I've heard, For the Love of a Soldier should be out today!

It contains my story, "True North." I wrote it not long after the death of my father, who was a veteran, inspired by the young soldiers who attended his funeral ceremony. I couldn't afford much, and so I opted to go with what the U.S. government would provide. I was afraid the ceremony would feel rushed or perfunctory, but that wasn't the way it felt at all. Though I didn't know the young soldiers who helped put my dad to rest, I could feel their sincerity.

When I thought about it more, it made a lot of sense to me that these young men would take this duty seriously, and that they would be aware of the depth of its meaning.

The story grew from that moment, and I tried to write it in a way that includes my own ambivalence about military service in this country, as well as my father's. My father wouldn't have been the same person if not for his military service, and that's both for better and for worse.

I look forward to reading the rest of the book at long last!

You can order it at these links!

Apple:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/for-the-love-of-a-soldier/id1243788105?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/for-the-love-of-a-soldier-5

Barnes and Noble:   https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/for-the-love-of-a-soldier-annabeth-leong/1126495728?ean=2940154686140

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Soldier-Military-Erotic-Romance-ebook/dp/B0721RQZJV/

***

Also, consider joining the Circlet Press Patreon... You can get seriously ridiculous numbers of books through the offers there, for very low monthly pledges.

Thanks so much for checking this out!

Sneak Peek: Journey to the Disappearing Sea

I promised a look at my story from Journey to the Center of Desire, which is coming soon from Circlet Press. So here it is, as promised! This is the beginning of a journal that features prominently in the story. Gräuben is a fairly passive, idealized love interest in Verne's original, Journey to the Center of the Earth. It's her lover Axel who has the adventure.

In my version, I decided to have Gräuben grow concerned and follow Axel on her own. The entry below is from shortly after she's taken this step, and it represents only the very beginning of this character's awakening and freedom.

From Gräuben's journal:

June 22, 1863—This book will likely do no good. Who will read it? If Axel is lost, I am not sure there is any person on this earth I still care for, or who truly cares for me. If he is not lost, I will find him and tell him all my adventures myself, between kisses.

Yet I write anyway, for I have always been such a very good girl. "It is expected that a proper young lady shall keep a journal." I still remember my guardian instructing me that way. Now here I sit with paper and pen. How many things I do because a person once suggested that I should!

All independent thought is not lost to me, however. I may sit with paper and pen, but I am nonetheless changed. Men's clothing, a pouch full of the professor's money at my waist, a man's power to commandeer ships and sign contracts and give orders. What a heady thing Axel has been hiding from me! Had I possessed these gifts from the start, I should have done thrice what he has. I would have traveled ceaselessly, asked every question, demanded every drop of knowledge the world had to give me.

I certainly would not have offered cowardly resistance to this great journey of the professor's.

But I should not slander my love. I am, after all, going on that great journey myself. There is no need for resentment now. And were it not for my dear Axel, for the fear in his eyes and my worry for him, I might still be at home, handling the minerals that are the scientific scraps of the professor's great intellect, offering smiles to all, and painting watercolors.

Perhaps the reason women are not invited on journeys such as this is that they awaken the passions. I know not whether it is the rocking of the boat that currently conveys me or the new freedom of motion bestowed upon me by trousers or the image of encountering my love in a place he would never expect to find me, but I am inflamed at all times. I want to sweep things out of the way, throw myself onto the narrow bed where I sleep, and… I am not sure what comes then. So much has been hidden from me!

Perhaps the knowledge will come to me as I become accustomed to my new way of being in the world. As it is, I have begun some scientific investigations. By starting with what is forbidden, I am slowly unlocking secrets of my own body that have previously been denied.

In distant memories, I recall my poor mother bathing me, slapping my hand aside and telling me never to touch there. Another command I have mindlessly obeyed. Now I have begun to transgress. There is much to overcome. I huddle against the wall of the cabin, moving as silently as possible, slipping a hand inside my trousers as if afraid of what I might find in there. When I do, I can feel the slap from across the years—if only other touches could remain so vivid! But there is something else I find. A wetness, a budding pleasure. Sometimes, I feel as if I am striving for a solution to a question I have yet to properly ask. I think of Axel, my body tenses, and it seems as if, could I but work a little harder, some vision might burst upon me.

If only I could be with him again! Together, we could unlock these mysteries.

***

I'll let you know as soon as this book is available in its entirety! I had so much fun writing a pastiche of Verne's style.

Sneak Peek: True North

I mentioned that Kristina Wright's For the Love of a Soldier will be out at the end of the month from Circlet Press, and it includes my story, "True North." I thought I'd give you a taste of the story now.

Callie's father, who was a veteran, recently passed away. She relied on government services to bury him, and in the process met Rudy Andrada, a young serviceman who offers to help her. This scene is from the first time she sees Rudy off base.

***

When he showed up at my father's house, I was wound up tighter than the pair of pants I'd put on. I knew better than to dress like that for a day of hard work, but when I was getting ready in the morning, I couldn't stop thinking about Rudy's eyes, his strong jaw, his long, straight body. No matter how many times I tried to remind myself that he was too young for me, that he wanted to help me not date me, I couldn't convince myself to tie my hair into a ponytail and be done with it. Instead, I slaved over my eye makeup, and foolishly put on that pair of too-small pants.

Rudy unloaded a six pack and a two-liter of cola from the bed of his truck. "I didn't know whether you drink," he explained. I imagined how he would look tipping his head back to take a long swig from the bottle, its sweat dripping down the glass and onto the side of his hand, and my reaction informed me that I still didn't have myself under control. A man Rudy's age wouldn't want a woman like me, already weighed down by the grief of living. He'd come because he was a good person, trying to address a need he perceived. I convinced myself to hold back, thanked him for the drinks, and suggested we open the cola.

For the next few hours, he plunged into my father's world with me, moving boxes and furniture, cleaning the dust from corners, climbing onto a step ladder to wipe the blades of ceiling fans, and never complaining. I would have helped more physically, but the pants wouldn't really allow it. Instead, I wound up going through my father's files, looking for financial information or other papers that I would need to deal with. That job had been too overwhelming for me to start until then, but with Rudy in the house, I could take a deep breath and focus on one paper at a time. I didn't know what it was about him that steadied me, only that I couldn't have gotten through the task without his presence.

The newly cleaned fans did their best to cool the house, but the heat from outside pressed in, and my father had never bought an AC unit. Rudy pulled off his shirt at some point in the afternoon, the gesture casual, natural. It took my breath away. I came to a full stop, gawping. It wasn't just the perfect muscle definition running up his brown back. I was entranced by how close that warm, hard flesh was to the palms of my hands. With a few steps, a gesture, and a little boldness, I could touch it. It took a long time to unclench my fists, to swallow my desire, to go back to rustling through old papers.

Rudy accomplished more in one day than I could have in several. I asked him to stay for dinner, and did my best to show my gratitude, frying up steak and vegetables from my father's freezer, trying not to think about the other ways I wanted to demonstrate how I felt.

He was gracious, helping out however I allowed him, convincing me to share a little of the beer with him. Deftly opening one, he poured exactly half into a glass for me, then took a sip in just the way I had fantasized about.

I couldn't stand it anymore. When he came up for air and put the bottle down, I set aside my spatula and kissed him. He gave a surprised grunt, but when I pressed in tight against him, he responded, taking my shoulder blades in his big, strong hands and gathering me close. His lips were softer than I expected, his cock quicker to get hard. He tasted salty from the beer, and smelled of work and the remnants of the ocean-tinged cologne he'd put on that morning.

For a little while, he held onto me and let me kiss him, his mouth opening to my tongue, and his breath speeding up along with mine. Behind me, the pan hissed ominously, and Rudy was the one to break away and suggest I ought to pay attention to it.

I stirred haphazardly, my heart sinking when I turned back and saw his frown. "I don't want to take advantage of you," he said seriously.

I couldn't help laughing. "It seems a lot more like I'm the one taking advantage."

He bit his lip, the gesture reminding me again that I had a good eight years on him. "I don't want you to think you owe me."

I gestured toward the pan on the stove. "That's because I owe you." Feeling bold, I reached up and ran my thumb along his bottom lip. Now that I'd thrown my cards onto the table, the lust I'd been trying to hold back came forward in full force. There were plenty of things I ought to have been thinking about, plenty of reasons why that wasn't a good time to come onto him. None of that mattered since I'd kissed him."With this, you'd be doing me a favor."

He grinned at that. "I'm pretty sure I'd be getting something in return, Callie."

I began to ache between my legs. For weeks, I'd been in a gray fog of sadness and endless to-do lists. Now that I'd raised the question with Rudy, the world seemed vivid again, full of color that started with his eyes and spread everywhere else. "Do you want to?"

Practical man that he was, he glanced toward the stove, which I turned off before he could raise a full objection on account of it. Then he glanced toward the master bedroom. "What about your father?"

"You're talking as if he's about to come out and threaten you with a shotgun if you don't have me back by ten. I'm a grown woman, Rudy."

"You know what I mean."

I couldn't sidestep what he was trying to bring up. I sighed, pressing against his chest again in an instinctive gesture that felt like it could all too easily become habit. "I don't think I'd be able to do this in the bedroom, but I do want you. We can do it right here on the floor, maybe." I punctuated the statement with a little downward tug, but he resisted. "The timing's a little weird," I admitted. "I didn't plan this."

He pulled at one of the belt loops of my tight pants, showing he'd noticed how I'd dressed. I couldn't help smiling at that. "Maybe I had some hopes."

"Sometimes, when people are sad, they act a little strange. Maybe do things that they regret later." His eyes seemed unusually far away, and I realized we still hadn't done much talking. For all that I had a sense for who Rudy was as a person, I knew almost none of the details of his life.

I stepped back and gave him a serious expression. "That sounds like the voice of experience."

He shrugged. "Guys I knew from basic training, that sort of thing." He cleared his throat and shrugged, the gesture dismissing entire worlds—the same things my father had been reliving with his war movies and his nightmares. "Sometimes, I didn't take it well."

"You're worried I kissed you because I'm not taking it well?"

He pulled me in, leaning his forehead against mine. His finger curled through the belt loop again. "I just don't want to ruin anything."

I blinked. "I didn't know we had anything to ruin."

"Maybe I had some hopes." He touched my cheek, his fingertips rough against my skin. I must have looked startled, or even scared. Much as I wanted him, I hadn't thought about what it would be like to really be with him, to make love with the lights on and introduce him to my friends, to have to risk the possibility that someday war might become too much for him the way it had for my father. "We can take it as slow as you want," he murmured.

I wanted to tell him that was all wrong. I didn't want to take it slow. I wanted to take it fast, to sleep with him right there and then try my best to forget about it all. I didn't realize my face was wet with tears until he brushed one away.

"Think about it," he said. "I can get an overnight pass next week."

***

For the Love of a Soldier comes out on June 29th.

You can preorder it at these links!

Apple:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/for-the-love-of-a-soldier/id1243788105?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/for-the-love-of-a-soldier-5

Barnes and Noble:   https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/for-the-love-of-a-soldier-annabeth-leong/1126495728?ean=2940154686140

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Soldier-Military-Erotic-Romance-ebook/dp/B0721RQZJV/

***

Also, consider joining the Circlet Press Patreon... You can get seriously ridiculous numbers of books through the offers there, for very low monthly pledges.

Sneak Peek: Bête Noire

A bit ago, I told you about "Bête Noire," the story I have coming out in Jen Blackmore's Beastly Affair anthology from Circlet Press.

You can read some background on how I came up with the story in the post I linked above. Today, I thought I'd share a quick taste of the story. So here, for your reading enjoyment, are the opening paragraphs!

I. Beautiful, Beastly Revenge

Before we shoot out a window and start killing all the guards in sight, Beauty leans in to kiss me.

I stop her. “You’re making me feel pretty, darling.” I hold up one matted, woolly hand, protract the obsidian claws still dripping blood from what we had to do to get this close to Orlagh’s fancy house. “We can’t risk breaking the curse here.”

“I just thought… This might be our last chance, Bête. If she kills us…”

“She won’t.”

Neither of us is sure of that, but there’s no choice besides pretending. True love and its urges aside, Beauty knows there couldn’t be a worse time for me to return to my former, softer self. She pulls back her face and reaches for my hand instead. Even the brush of her fingers—oily from her gun—makes my heart shiver with sweet visions of who I could become for her. I take my hand away and shove it into my pocket, ignoring her quiet, hurt sigh. We’ll have time to talk this over after we deal with Orlagh.

I force myself to stop contemplating the subtle scent of roses that manages to linger around Beauty even after three saddlesore days of bloodshed, dust, and magic so cut-rate and ragged it could give a person tetanus.

The sound of a footstep makes me press myself flat against the stucco wall in front of us, though we’re well hidden for the moment. Orlagh is the sort of rich asshole who grows a lush formal garden around her desert mansion—whether she has the water shipped or conjured, it’s disgustingly ostentatious—but I do admit some gratitude for the thick blue-and-pink endless-summer hydrangeas currently concealing our position. Still, assuming we got an accurate map of the grounds from the former servant we bribed back in town, we’re kneeling right outside Orlagh’s bedroom window. Her habit of tossing around curses when she’s drunk and horny have made her a lot of enemies, and by all accounts she compensates by hiring vigilant guards.

Beauty and I exchange a glance. Her chest doesn’t move until the footsteps fade away. Then she offers a tentative smile. “I guess we should…” She nods upward.

“No point killing time when we could be killing the enemy,” I agree.

I don't have a release date yet, but I'll give you more information when I've got it!

For the Love of a Soldier - Revived!

Years ago, I posted about a story, "True North," that would come out in a book called, For the Love of a Solider, edited by Kristina Wright. I even posted a cover for it!

It's been a long time, and that book's been through a twisty journey, but I just got word that it'll be out June 29th from Circlet Press! This is the cover, and I'll share more info with you when I've got it!

Out Now: Deranged

Please allow me to introduce my newest release. My poem, "Lead," appears in Deranged, a new collection from Picaroon Press, edited by Kate Garrett and Rachel Nix.

"Lead" is a poem about the disorientation I experienced the first time I stepped outside the bounds of a heteronormative relationship. It wasn't until then that I'd realized there was a whole code of behavior I'd internalized. When I dated a woman for the first time, I felt the absence of that code constantly. I felt like we were inventing everything anew, and that was both thrilling and disconcerting.

I'm really excited to read the other poems in the book!

Here's the general description:

Deranged was originally a response to the claim by one critic that women writers calling out sexism were ‘deranged poetesses’. It grew into something much more than that.

These are poems about rule-breaking, gender nonconformity, and women in the arts by Roxanna Bennett, Sarah Pritchard, Orooj-e-Zafar, Catherine Ayres, Angela Readman, QWD, Rebecca Audra Smith, Abigail Carl-Klassen, Jane Burn, Laurie Kolp, Susan Yount, Lizzie Holden, Annabeth Leong, Amy Kinsman, Justin C. Burkart, J.P. Grimm, Courtney LeBlanc, Mary Meriam, Anna Percy, Finola Scott, Angela Readman, Gail DiMaggio, Misti Rainwater-Lites, Sez Thomasin, Betty Stanton, Rishika Aggarwal, Catherine Edmunds, Claire T. Feild, Janet Philo, Christine Rhein, Noel Sloboda, Carol Eades, Sade Andria Zabala, Robert Beveridge, Rona Fitzgerald, Rebecca Gethin, Claire Booker, Carole Bromley, Sumayyah Malik, and Joanne Key.

For now, the book is only available through Lulu, but it will propagate to Amazon soon. If you'd like to check its current status, its main page is here.

Sneak Peek: The Taste of a Soul

I promised hints to come of my story, "The Taste of a Soul," which Mofo Press is publishing in an anthology of religion-related erotica. So here is a good hint—the first few paragraphs:

He was your typical pride demon: leather-gloved fingers caressing the polished wheel of his Chevy Malibu as he drove, designer sunglasses, a weathered-faced smirk. His showpiece mortal posed for us in the passenger seat, giggling her life away as she sucked down one cigarette after another and tried not to drop ashes on her red silk party dress. Her loose, giddy laugh told a story of a soulless body, the high that comes in the wake of lost innocence and a distant conscience.

"Desiree?" he sneered. "That's what you're going by now?"

I took the bait and defended myself, sitting up straighter in the back seat so I could glare into his rear view mirror. "Most of them don't pick up the irony until far too late, if ever. Besides, you're not being very subtle yourself, Lord."

He clearly believed his answering expression to be boyish and charming, not insufferably smug. "I enjoy hearing them call me that. Especially her."

He dropped a hand onto the mortal's thigh, bunching the fabric of her skirt into his fist. "Lord," she breathed, her voice girlish to the point of obscenity. "My Lord."

I rolled my eyes, but the clichés of the scene didn't stop me from watching him work his hand altogether under the dress. She spread her legs to let him. Her lust smelled like sugared mandrake. I lifted an eyebrow and leaned to an angle that gave me a better look at her face.

Watch for more, and in the meantime, you can take a look at what Mofo's put out for you so far.

Sneak Peek: To Rescue a Princess

I've mentioned the novella I have coming out from Less Than Three Press, "To Rescue a Princess." I turned in edits a few weeks back, and I thought I'd give you a look at the story.

Sir Elizabeth is the only female knight in the kingdom, and she's had to fight for the right to participate in the competition to win the princess's hand, alongside the other knights. The problem is that Princess Cordelia isn't interested in being "won" by anyone. The scene below comes from their first conversation, after Sir Elizabeth nearly defeated the dragon and "won" the princess—only to be sabotaged by Cordelia.

"Princess. Do I have permission to approach? Another knight is coming. We don't have a lot of time."

"Another knight?" Cordelia's dark skin turned ashy. She leaned out the window and glanced toward the road. The dust cloud had gotten closer. She looked down at the dragon, and then shifted her attention to Beth. "Yes," she said. "Please come up to the windowsill."

If Beth had been less exhausted, she would have taken comfort in discovering that at least Cordelia wasn't cheering for the new arrival. However, the only relief she could feel at this point was in her shoulders, when she finally freed them of the weight of her entire body and suit of armor.

She found a relatively stable position in the window and let her arms fall bonelessly to her sides. It didn't feel as if she could lift them so much as an inch, not even if her life depended on it. That made this conversation all the more important.

"You don't want me to defeat the dragon," Beth said bluntly. The other knight's imminent arrival gave her little time to mince words.

Cordelia had the grace to blush. "You would have," she offered.

Beth returned a weary gaze. "Yes."

"I'm sorry." Cordelia sounded genuine. Now that Beth sat close to her, she couldn't help imagining what it would be like for them to live as spouses. Beth could envision them dividing the labors of ruling, but she wasn't sure what it would be like to share a bed with the woman in front of her. Would she be expected to, given that the traditional means of producing an heir wouldn't be available to her? On the other hand, maybe it would be seen as weakness or a sign of division if she never visited Cordelia's room at night.

She looked at Cordelia's face and imagined herself caressing it. When Lady Jeanne had gotten married, some people had talked about it being unnatural for two women to be together that way. Beth had used Lady Jeanne to make a point with the guard, but she hadn't spent much time picturing the realities. Beth had kissed and been kissed a few times in her life, with and without passion. She wondered how it would feel with Cordelia, wondered if the contact would strike the spark in her body that would fuel her for deeper, more intimate exploration.

She was getting way ahead of herself.

Beth took a deep breath. "Is it personal?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Is it because you don't want to marry a woman? Or you're in love with someone else? Or you think my nose looks weird?"

Cordelia gave Beth an odd, unreadable look. "Is it personal for you?" she asked, her tone sharper than anything she'd used so far.

Beth swallowed. She didn't love Cordelia, and the woman deserved better than to be lied and pretended to. At the same time, she truly was trying to remember that the princess was a person and not a prize, that a spouse was a partner and not a political convenience. "I'd hoped maybe it could be," Beth said honestly.

Cordelia's expression softened, taking on a touch of the affection she'd shown toward the dragon. "Good answer," she said. Her fingers twitched, and for a moment Beth thought Cordelia might reach out to her. Then she turned away abruptly, leaving Beth with little to interpret beyond the smooth, apparently untroubled line of her shoulders and the carefully embroidered filigree that ran down the back of her gown. "It's just what a knight ought to say when sitting on a princess's windowsill."

Surprise coursed through Beth, and the sting of accusation. "You think I'm lying?"

"I think you'd make a good politician. A good ruler. I see why my father recognized you with the title he did." Her voice took on a bitter cast. "I see why he didn't stop you from trying to win my hand."

"Princess—"

"It isn't personal." Cordelia's body was tight and controlled, but her tone made it clear that there were thoughts and feelings she couldn't contain. "Of course, it isn't. I can't really afford personal in my position, can I? You understand the world enough to see that."

***

I'll get you cover and release date information when it's available!

Five Years on Kiva!

I got an email notification this week telling me that I've been on Kiva for five years!

Kiva is a nonprofit organization that aims to help people around the world get small, low-interest loans that help them start businesses, attend school, make needed renovations, etc. You can see explanations on Kiva's website.

I first joined Kiva in conjunction with the publication of my novella, The Six Swans, through Coming Together. All books that Coming Together publishes go toward some sort of charity project. In this case, proceeds from novellas that come out through the Coming Together: Neat line go into Kiva accounts.

You can see my Kiva lender profile here. Over the years I've used royalties from The Six Swans, along with other money I've added to it at times to make 61 loans!

If you'd like to get involved, it's easy to make your own account on Kiva. Or you can pick up The Six Swans, Giselle Renarde's Tangled Roots, or any other book in the Coming Together: Neat line.

Cover Reveal: Journey to the Center of Desire

Begging, my friends: It pays.

Behold the cover to Journey to the Center of Desire, edited by Jen Blackmore, coming soon from Circlet Press. After spotting SUBTLE CLUES (translation: a background on the editor's blog) suggesting this cover is a thing that exists in this world, I excitedly begged to get copies of those pictures, too, and the Aetherist herself kindly obliged.

It's cool, yeah?

My story is called "Journey to the Disappearing Sea." It's about a dude who doesn't realize how irrelevant he is. No, wait, that's not quite right. It's narrated by Axel, the hero (and whiny center) of Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth. In the original, Axel loves to talk about "his little Gräuben," so I decided to talk about her a whole lot more. In short, I decided to make her the much cooler star of her own adventure.

Was I fantasizing? Well... yes. But hopefully I'll make you fantasize, too.

I'll share more details (like a release date!) when I can get them. And I might also post a few paragraphs to whet your appetite...

Coming Soon: A Beastly Affair

Hey friends! I don't think I remembered to tell you that I signed a contract for a story in Jen Blackmore's Beastly Affair, a Beauty and the Beast-themed erotic anthology coming soon from Circlet Press.

I had a really great time writing my story, "Bête Noire." It's set in the Weird West, with a beast who's a former debutante, and a gun-toting, revenge-seeking Beauty.

When I finished the story and looked it over, I saw it had... drifted quite a bit from the fairy tale as told by Disney. That's what you want when writing, of course, because you need to make a story your own. I'm always fascinated by the process, though. To me, each step feels clear and logical, as if I'm just making minor adjustments. Then I hear myself describing the story to someone, and I realize it's radically different, and radical.

Like, why the Weird West? I'm not sure, but it made perfect sense to me at the time. I think I was looking for a time and place in which I thought a curse-giver could be passing through, and I didn't want to do the vague medieval England setting that one falls into so easily.

The key to my version of the story, though, came from research I did into the origins of the fairy tale. One old version of the story holds that the witch curses the Beast in a fit of rage after being sexually denied. It seemed to me like a person who would do that wouldn't only do it once, so I immediately envisioned a wandering sexual harasser, leaving behind a trail of Beast-cursed people. From there, it wasn't hard to imagine Beauty and a Beast teaming up to pursue the curse-giver.

I wanted the story to address the trauma the Beast has gone through. I put into it a lot of the feelings I've had myself in the wake of harassment—in particular, an urge to embrace the idea of ugliness because sometimes I see that as an antidote to vulnerability. I've also often observed that in the wake of trauma, my friends want revenge, and the things I want are much murkier and more complex.

Along with all that psychological and mythological stuff, though, Beauty and the Beast are into blood play, and the scenes I wrote for that are HOT—if I judge by my own reaction to them, anyway. ;)

I'm really looking forward to this book. I love Jen Blackmore's anthologies, both because her concepts are awesome and because she attracts great writers (I'm always honored to be in their company).

If you want to be in her next book, she has a call out right now for Golden Age Erotica (there's a link from here).

And if you want to see what I'm talking about, may I recommend Whispers in Darkness, her excellent anthology of Lovecraftian erotica?

The Mark and the Caul: A Sexy Part

There's a cool thing that happens when it takes a story a very long time to get published. By the time it's out, I get to read it fresh, as surprised as the reader might be. So I checked out my story "The Mark and the Caul," which recently came out in Sacchi Green's Witches, Princesses, and Women at Arms: Erotic Lesbian Fairy Tales, and I got to remember some of the things I enjoyed about writing this story.

The princess, Lucinda, has been told all her life that she's disfigured, and it takes her a while to trust her lover, Sam, with her body. I always find tentative explorations hot, and I also really enjoyed writing about how Lucinda and Sam navigate Lucinda's insecurities. Here's one of their early sex scenes:

"May I touch you?" Lucinda asked.

"You may do with me as you please."

Lucinda stepped close. At first, despite her question, she touched only with eyes, her fingers too timid to bridge the gap between them. When she lifted a hand at last, she flitted it around Sam's body like a butterfly too skittish to alight. Feeling ridiculous, she brought a fingertip to rest on the blunt tip of Sam's broad nose.

They both froze, and then Sam laughed, and the sound freed Lucinda to gather her wife into her arms more boldly. She learned the shapes of Sam's shoulder blades, the curve of her spine, and the solidity of her hips. She tucked Sam's muscular buttocks into the palms of her hands, but the powerful response in her body alarmed her and she retreated to Sam's elbows. Lucinda, however, could not resist stroking upward from there, outlining her wife's upper arms, which were strong and thick from helping the miller.

This supposedly less intimate territory still made Lucinda's stomach flutter. She rested the side of her face between Sam's breasts, barely trusting her legs to hold her up. Wrapping one arm around Sam's back, Lucinda allowed her other hand to wander to the hollow of Sam's throat, over the point of one taut breast, along the side of her rib cage, and finally, between her legs.

"Moon above and river below," Sam cursed.

Lucinda smiled at the reaction and petted the damp hair that grew over Sam's pubis. She knew the pleasure her own body yielded when she explored this place. "There is a river below indeed. I feel the signs of its presence, though I have not found it yet."

Sam widened her stance. "You seem clever enough to track it."

"You will not be able to remain standing under the force of its waters once I make them flow," Lucinda said. She led her wife to her bed and helped her in. Then she rubbed the top of one of Sam's thighs, as if she were a great mill horse in need of steadying. Slowly, Lucinda parted her wife's lower lips, revealing the extent of her wetness.

"Ah," Sam sighed. "You've found it."

"I've found the path that leads there." Lucinda began a thorough examination of the territory, at first simply stroking and discovering, then later responding to the hiss of Sam's breath and the catches in her throat. She trapped sensitive flesh between her first two fingers, squeezing lightly, tugging, and rolling.

Sam gave a full-throated cry, and her firm body became rigid and hard beneath Lucinda's touch. Pleasure shattered off her and pounded through the room, rolling from Sam's body in waves that Lucinda could feel at her temples. Sam gasped, and finally caught her breath. "My mother told me the pleasures of the marriage bed were not for women," she said at last. "I've never known her to be wrong before, and yet I can imagine nothing sweeter than what you have done to me."

Lucinda stretched out beside Sam, still in her clothes. She slipped her hand beneath her veil so she could inhale Sam's scent, and shivered all over at the spice of it. "It heartens me to hear this from you. I was always told that it would hurt."

Sam clutched Lucinda fiercely. "I swear I'll never hurt you."

"I know you won't."

"Will you let me please you, too?"

Lucinda drew a deep breath. "Soon," she promised. "But not yet."

Sam nodded and held her, and the two women whispered secrets to each other.

If you'd like to read the rest, you can pick up the book here.

Announcing: The Taste of a Soul

I just signed a contract for a new short story, "The Taste of a Soul," which will be published in a forthcoming anthology of religion-related erotica by Mofo Press.

If you'd like a hint of what's to come, you can see the description of the submission call here.

Among other things, it says:

For this anthology, we are looking for erotic stories that explore the concept of religion. No other parameters apply other than that every story needs to be literary, erotic, and push the boundaries between the sacred and the profane.

We have a preference for Catholicism—the eroticism and hypocrisy are built right in—but stories involving other major world religions are fair game. We also have a soft spot for erotic explorations of world mythologies.

My story is about demons, inspired by Lana Del Rey.

This is a song I listened to lots while working on the story:

I'll give you more details when I've got them, and maybe a few sneak peeks along the way. :)

While you wait for this one, take a look at Mofo Press's Wanderlust anthology, which includes, among other things, a story by T.C. Mill, who is amazing.

Out Now: Witches, Princesses, and Women at Arms: Erotic Lesbian Fairy Tales

Hey friends, guess what? This book is out!

Here's the description:

In this sexy, erotic anthology of twisted fairy tales, the damsels are the ones doing the rescuing! Full of ancient, adapted tales that were changed to include female/female pairings and also some brand new stories of feminine heroics and sexual dominance, this collection of stories will leave readers under a spell of lesbian love!

It includes my story, "The Mark and the Caul."

Also, check out this great review! (Thanks, Ameliah Faith!) The reviewer calls attention to my story by name, and also gives shout outs to writers I love, including Emily Byrne, Michael M. Jones, Salome Wilde, and Sacchi Green herself.

You can get Witches, Princesses, and Women at Arms at Amazon, your favorite indie bookstore, or wherever else it pleases you to do so!

Call for Submissions: My Charity Anthology, due May 22

Hi friends,

I've had this pinned to my Twitter account for a while now, but I could still use more submissions, so I wanted to boost a bit more.

I first posted this call last year, and then refined the anthology topic in response to the submissions I received and am looking for a few more stories. Please consider writing something for me. If you'd like to discuss your idea or need more time, please feel free to email me at annabeth dot leong at gmail dot com. <3 <3 <3 I'm posting the call in full below, but you can also find it on the publisher's website here.

***

Coming Together: Positively Sexy is a collection of erotica focused on characters living and loving while HSV+, edited by Annabeth Leong. Proceeds 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.

SUBMISSION CALL

Update: In the first submission window for Coming Together: Positively Sexy, many submissions focused on characters living and loving while positive for HSV (herpes). So I've decided to embrace that focus and reopen the call in order to fill out a book all about these characters. I'd particularly love to get more stories including queer men or nonbinary characters, but any story exploring and celebrating the sexuality of characters with herpes is welcome.

Details from the original call are below:

Ever notice that sex ed classes tend to focus on how to prevent STIs, but don't say much about living with them and having a sex life after an STI diagnosis? Erotica, on the other hand, is often written as if STIs don't exist at all.

For this anthology, I'm looking for short erotica and erotic romance about characters who have STIs.

I would like to see a range of experiences represented. Give me characters just opening themselves up to sexuality post-diagnosis, characters for whom disclosure and safer sex practices are a routine side note to whatever sexual fun they're getting up to, and everything in between. Stories must be fictional.

It's a major priority for me to include stories about people of a variety of orientations, body types, races, genders, etc. I'm very interested in stories that engage with stigmas around STIs, but I'm absolutely not interested in stories that perpetuate those stigmas. I'm interested in the realities of sexuality, and it is fine for characters to have backgrounds that include unsafe behavior/murky consent/etc. In the present of your story, however, I want to see characters who are responsible with themselves and their partners. Please use medically accurate information where relevant. Please don't be preachy or shaming.

All sexualities and gender expressions are welcome. Kink is welcome. Realistic contemporary settings only, please.

SUBMISSION GUIDELINES

Stories between 3,000 and 7,500 words are preferred. I will consider shorter stories or stories as long as 10,000 words if I find them truly exceptional.

Coming Together contracts non-exclusive rights to publish, so previously published work is fine, as long as you own the rights to the work you submit. Stories over 5,000 words may be released individually through Coming Together as well, with the sales proceeds benefiting the CSPH.

Please use RTF, DOC, or DOCX format when submitting a manuscript. Include your legal name, pen name, and a working email address at the top of the document. Do not paste your story into the body of your message.

Please use Times New Roman font, size 12, and one-inch margins. Double-space paragraphs and set indentations to .3 – Do not use tabs or spaces to indent.

Please do not submit poetry or memoir.

Direct all submissions to positivelybook@outlook.com and CC submissions@the-erotic-cocktail.com.

Include “Coming Together Positively Sexy Submission” in the header of your e-mail. In your e-mail message, include a two-line blurb for your story (to help with promotion if your story is accepted), and a short biography, no more than 150 words, including your website/blog/social media links if applicable. Please also indicate if your story has been previously published.
Feel free to query if your submission is not acknowledged within 72 hours.

Coming Together is a non-profit organization, and all CT authors and editors have generously donated their talents to various causes. Compensation for inclusion in this work is a PDF contributor copy of the finished product and the satisfaction of knowing you are helping an amazing organization that is working to reduce sexual shame.

Signs that you've read the guidelines make me <3 you. Thanks so much for being interested in this anthology. ABOUT THE EDITOR:

Annabeth Leong is frequently confused about her sexuality, but enjoys searching for answers. Her work appears in dozens of anthologies, including recent editions of the annual series Best Lesbian Erotica, Best Erotic Romance, and Heiresses of Russ: Best Lesbian Speculative Fiction. She is the author of the novel Untouched and the short story collection Liquid Longing, and is the editor of Circlet Press's MakerSex: Erotic Stories of Geeks, Hackers, and DIY Culture. She can be found online at annabethleong.blogspot.com, and on Twitter @AnnabethLeong

Andromache's Prize Is Free Today!

Friends, my publisher, Forbidden Fiction, has made my story, Andromache's Prize, free to read for a limited time. You can find it on their free erotica page, here.

Here's the blurb:

When Briseis had belonged to noble Achilles, she had been better able to bear slavery. Now, though, the heroes had all sailed away home, leaving baser men to strip the carcass of Troy. Briseis had been given into the hands of cruel Calygdus, and nightly she suffered for his every shame and weakness. Until the night that Andromache and the women of Troy fell upon the Greek camp, slaying the men and releasing the women slaves, promising them freedom in the City of Women. Freedom, and love… (M/F, F/F)

This story includes hot, badass women, but be aware that it also contains dark content and descriptions of nonconsensual encounters.

While you're on the site, please consider checking out my short story collection, Liquid Longing. It includes plenty of dark erotica, often queer, and often mythologically based.

Best Women's Erotica in Cosmopolitan

Rachel Kramer Bussel, editor of Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 2, got in touch recently to share this picture:



(In case you can't read the print in the picture, it says: "[Reading erotic literature is] a safe way to experiment with your sexuality. If you're curious about BDSM, you can read about it (we like Best Women's Erotica of the Year, by Rachel Kramer Bussel) and see if it turns you on. Then when you add a partner to the mix, it's easier to articulate what you like." This advice comes from the owners of The Ripped Bodice, a bookstore in Los Angeles that specializes in selling romance novels.)

Not only is it exciting to see the book mentioned in Cosmopolitan, this is a wise piece of advice. Both reading and writing erotica have given me space to explore my desires. I think this can be particularly important for those of us socialized female—I learned a lot about doing the opposite while growing up, saying, "No, what do you want," etc, and so learning what my sexual desires are and how to talk about them has taken a lot of time and development.

Best Women's Erotica deserves a shoutout in this respect because Rachel is really great about including a broad variety of stories in the volumes she edits. Her books are a great jumping off place for exploration. (And, while this particular book does include my story, "On Some Maps, But Not on Others," I'm not just saying this...).

If you'd like to check the book out, you can find it here.

Also, if you're in LA, it looks like it would be a good idea to check out The Ripped Bodice. Seems like a cool place!