Wednesday, May 31, 2017

How Far Have I Come? (#amwriting #craft #bdsm)

Writer image

I’ve been writing erotic fiction for a very long time. My first novel was published by the groundbreaking erotica imprint Black Lace in 1999. Since then I’ve written eight other novels, as well as dozens of shorter works. I’m not nearly as prolific as some of my colleagues, but I’m still in the game. And in the past eighteen years, I’ve learned a lot.

To illustrate this, I thought it might be interesting to compare two excerpts, one from my first novel Raw Silk, and one from my most recent book Damned If You Do.

Nearly two decades separate the books, but they share some features. Both books include intense BDSM scenes. Both are contemporary, though Damned has some paranormal elements. The two heroines are both trying to understand their true emotional and sexual needs. Of course, both have happy endings.

To be honest, I think Damned If You Do is better written. That’s not surprising, given that I was a rank amateur when I penned Raw Silk. Last year I revised and expanded Raw Silk for a new release, so I had the opportunity to fix some of the more serious problems with the style. Still, my new book reflects the years of writing experience I have gained since my first attempt. The prose is smoother. The emotions are more subtle. Maybe most important, the characters feel more realeven the character of the demon!

Raw Silk was a compendium of all my personal erotic fantasies. And like most fantasy, it has a stereotyped quality. Without a doubt, Gregory Marshall’s the most alpha Dom I’ve ever writtentoo alpha to be believable (or so he seems to me now). During the revision, I had the chance to make him somewhat more vulnerable and insecure, but I still wouldn’t want him as my partner in a real relationshiphe’s just too arrogant and demanding.

Nevertheless, Raw Silk continues to be my best-selling novel. I guess this means that my fantasies, as unrealistic as they might be, are shared by many readers!

Anyway, I promised you two parallel excerpts. First, a bit from Raw Silk.

With expert skill, he bound her wrists with the silken braids. “Silk is a marvelous substance,” he commented. “So soft, but incredibly strong. Like you, my little Kate. I know that you can endure much. Much more than you would believe.”

She shivered, wondering exactly what he meant. He was working on her ankles now, in a business-like fashion, leaving her knees bent and open so that her sex was spread wide. Every time he touched her, heat rippled through her to that burning center, still sensitive and hungry from her earlier ministrations. She squirmed a bit, pushing her pelvis toward him.

Be still,” he said sharply. “Be patient. You must learn to wait.”

Finally, she was bound, restrained from all but the most subtle movements. She found she was panting. Gregory stood at the foot of the bed, admiring her, or his handiwork.

Excellent. Just as I imagined.”

He began to remove his clothes. She followed his every gesture. When he dropped his shirt to the floor, Kate sucked in her breath. Marshall’s left arm, from shoulder to wrist, was elaborately and beautifully tattooed. A pattern of multicolored flames writhed over his flesh—scarlet, green and turquoise. A trick of the flashing neon, or perhaps simply the motion of his muscles, made the flames dance across his flesh as if they were consuming him. A similar flame flickered in his blue eyes as he pulled off his trousers.

He mounted the bed and straddled her with his thighs. His engorged cock hovered above her body. Despite her best intentions, she arched upward, drawn to his flesh like iron to a magnet. In response, he leaned over to pinch both her nipples, hard enough that she cried out.

Still, I said! You are mine now, mine to do as I wish. I will fuck you, or not fuck you, as I please. But,” he added, smiling, “I do please.”

The bonds already held her wide open. Her sex was already drenched with arousal. Holding her pinned with those ice-blue eyes, he sank his penis into the heart of her, into depths she had not known existed.

* * *

And now a comparable excerpt from Damned If You Do.

She heard him rummage in the closet. “Face the chair and bend at the waist, with your chest on the seat.” The chair was probably an orphan from some dining room set, a solid piece of plain mahogany. She pressed her breasts against the smooth surface of the seat and slipped her arms through the open back, to grasp the rear legs.

Naughty girl! You think you know what I’m going to do? Well, then!” Sinking to his haunches, he wrapped a strip of fabric several times around her right wrist and the chair leg, then tied a knot. “Might as well put these to some use. I never wear neckties these days.”

In a matter of minutes he had her bound securely to the chair. “Is that too tight? Any numbness?”

Wendy wiggled her fingers. The silken bonds were firm but comfortable. “No, Sir. It’s perfect.” It was, too. She felt that breathless dizziness that always seized her when she was about to be beaten, but flowing beneath her excitement was a steady current of security. With Mister B, in contrast, there had always been an undercurrent of danger, thrilling, but exhausting too. She’d never been able to completely let go. Deep inside, there’d always been a frozen nugget of fear.

With Daniel, she was open in a new way. No matter how far he took her, how deep into passion and pain, she had no doubt he’d keep her safe.

Are you ready, Gwen?”

Yes, Sir.” Facing the window, she rested her cheek on the cool, polished wood and slowed her breathing, ready for the first stroke.

He made her wait while he bustled around the bedroom, possibly removing his clothing. Noise came from the bathroom, the opening and closing of cabinet doors. He seemed to be taking forever.

What are you looking for, Sir?” she asked finally.

Lube,” he replied, unexpectedly close to her ear. “And this.”

He dangled a cylinder of purple silicone in front of her face. The object had a tapered tip and a flared base. “I hid it away so my cleaning lady wouldn’t find it.”

A butt plug?” Though Mister B had frequently inserted plugs and other objects into her anus, she’d never expected to see one in the hands of her mild-mannered agent.

One toy I thought I should invest in, after our interlude at the hotel. Endorsed by E.L.James herself!” He snickered as he squirted some lubricant into his palm. “Spread your legs, Pet. Wider.”

Daniel…oh!” His nimble fingers smeared the slippery gel over the tight whorl protecting her rear hole, then pushed inside. Exquisite sensation coursed through her. Her infernal previous master had trained her well. She knew exactly how to relax the ring of muscle to allow penetration.

Dan pressed the slick tip of the plug an inch or so into her ass. “Does that hurt?” he asked. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, no, Sir. You’re doing fine. Just push. Push harder—oh!” The bulbous object popped through the gateway to settle in her rectum. The pressure built, lovely and dangerous. She never got used to the sweet, dirty feeling of having her ass filled.

Daniel stood back to admire his work. “God, you look so hot! Tied and plugged, ready to be beaten…it’s better than every wet dream I’ve ever had.”

Well, Sir,” Wendy murmured, knowing she was once again treading the thin line between obedience and brattiness, but too overwhelmed to care. “Then why don’t you beat me?”

The swoosh of the belt through the air answered her. Hard-edged leather bit into her flesh, making her gasp. “Oh…” she whimpered. “Oh, Sir!”

He brought the strap down upon her other cheek, leaving a searing trail in its wake. Fire streaked from there to her sex. She sucked air into her lungs and clenched down on the plug, triggering waves of terrible bliss. The belt landed on a new, untouched area of her ass, like a tongue of flame. With each blow the pain surged, and her clit pulsed in synchrony.

Why don’t you read both books and decide for yourself? (The links below go to Amazon, but both books are available at all popular bookstores.)

Today is your LAST CHANCE enter my drawing! You could win one of several bookstore gift certificates or free books. All you have to do is leave a comment on this post:

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Review Tuesday: Five to Future (#sciencefiction #cats #politics)

Five to the Future cover
Five to the Future: All New Novelettes of Tomorrow and Beyond

Edited by M.Christian
Digital Parchment Services 2017

Science fiction was one of my first literary loves. I remember borrowing Heinlein and Bradbury from our local library when I was only seven or eight. That love has endured into my sixties. Even though my “official” genre is erotica/erotic romance, probably twenty percent of what I read could be labeled scifi or speculative fiction.

Hence, I was thrilled when I learned that M.Christian had edited a brand new science fiction anthology. I cannot claim to be an unbiased reviewer; I adore his speculative stories, at least one of which (“State”) has a permanent place in my pantheon of the best short stories of all time.

Five to the Future offers a creative playground for a handful of acclaimed science fiction authors: Ernest Hogan, Emily Devenport, Cynthia Ward, Arthur Byron Cover, and Christian himself. In his foreword the editor notes that he gave only contributors a single instruction: write whatever story you want to write.

The results are impressive, thought-provoking, sometimes funny, and uniformly entertaining.

Ernest Hogan offers “Uno! … Dos! One-Two! Tres! Cuatro!”, a Latin-flavored riff heavily influenced by recent U.S. politics. His characters are the outcasts, outlaws, artists, and mystics who live in the Unsecure Zone of Metro Phoenix, some time in the not-so-distant future. Sexy Gonzomedia commentator Cha-cha Chavez is on assignment to bring back the truth (not alternative facts!) from beyond the Wall. In her quest she encounters the infamous low-rider Xolo Garcia, his jealous matador girl-friend Cihuachichi and a range of other characters who are keeping the fires of creativity and diversity burning despite the bombers flying overhead.

Extravagant imagination and tongue-in-cheek humor characterize this outrageous piece. There are more serious messages as well, but they’re delivered with such aplomb you might not notice.

Emily Devenport’s contribution “Queen of the Cats” was my favorite in the collection. Deeply emotional and more conventionally structured than the other tales, the story chronicles an invasion by a race of attractive aliens so shallow in their desires that you’ll wince at the familiarity. The narrator of this story loses her husband, who is disintegrated by an invader wanting the man’s clothing. She maintains her sanity and humanity by caring for the many cats left without owners after the advent of the extraterrestrials. The tale skirts the edge of apocalypse, but has a unexpectedly uplifting conclusion.

Follow Your Dream” by Cynthia Ward is a delightful love-letter to Japanese super-hero anime. Don’t expect muscle-flexing wrestlers or sentient robots, though; every one of Ms. Ward’s in-your-face characters is female.

Arthur Byron Cover aptly titled his tale “Dreamweaver”; it has the bizarre logic of dreams. His contribution is a hallucinogenic mélange of shifting realities, grounded by a surprisingly affecting romance. I didn’t completely understand what this author was trying to accomplish, but his ferocious imagination and vivid imagery dazzled me. Like Ernest Hogan’s tale, this one includes quite a bit of humor, but it left me feeling a deliciously bittersweet melancholy.

Written on Ribs” is the editor’s offering. The background for this story lies in the practice, during the Cold War, of smuggling Western music recordings into the Soviet Union by imprinting them on discarded X-rays. The piece is actually an assembly of mini-stories, each one inspired (I gather) by tales published during the Golden Age of science fiction magazines. I’m not sure how much I missed due to my unfamiliarity with these historic stories, but M.Christian’s vignettes about art, power and desire don’t seem to require this knowledge in order to have a profound impact. More than any of the other contributions in this volume, “Written on Ribs” shows a sort of disciplined craft that kindles deep admiration. In the final vignette, the author himself shows up as a character, effectively asking whether we writers are ever truly separate from our creations.

Certainly, it’s clear that the authors in Five to the Future all poured their souls into their stories. Each one shines with imagination and passion. One of the wonderful aspects of science fiction is that it imposes no limits. These authors have taken advantage of that freedom to produce a book that’s both entertaining and moving.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

I have prizes for you.... (#giveaway #releaseblitz #bsdm)

two more days banner

Only two more days remain in my big release blitz giveaway for Damned If You Do. I'm giving away:

  • Three $10 bookstore gift certificates
  • Three copies of The Gazillionaire and the Virgin

All you have to do is comment on my release day post, here (be sure to include an email so I can find you):

If you sign up for my VIP email list, you get a second entry.

Only takes a minute or two! What are you waiting for?

Sometimes romance can be hell

Wendy Dennison is tired of being a starving author. The royalties from her critically acclaimed romance novels barely pay her bills. Her devoted agent Daniel Rochester may be smart and sexy, but he can't get her the sales she needs. Then a charismatic stranger appears at her coffee shop table, promising her fame and commercial success, as well as the chance to live out her dreams of erotic submission. But at what cost?

Nothing you can't afford to lose, my dear.

Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, she signs his infernal contract. He becomes both her Master and her coach, managing her suddenly flourishing career as well as encouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’s nefarious influence, she surrenders to temptation and has sex with Daniel. The casual encounter turns serious when she discovers her mild mannered agent has a dominant side. As the clock ticks down to her blockbuster release and Mister B prepares to claim her soul, Wendy must choose either celebrity and wealth, or obscurity and true love.