Showing posts with label Breaking the Rules. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breaking the Rules. Show all posts

Friday, May 6, 2016

Don't Be a Sheep (#bdsm #creativity #conformity)

Fitting in. Being popular. Looking hip. When you’re a teenager, that’s what you want more than anything. I was no different from any other teen, back then or today. I’d have long arguments with my mother about why she wouldn’t buy me nylons until I was thirteen, or why I had to wear ugly snow boots to school, or why I couldn’t shave my legs yet.

But Mom,” I’d whine. “All the girls wear stockings.”

So what?” she’d respond. “Why do you need to be like everyone else? Do you want to be a sheep?”

The disdain in her voice made it clear that conformity for its own sake was something she held in very low regard. Arguments based on following the prevailing views or actions of the majority almost never succeeded.

At the time, I found her insistence on individualism annoying and frustrating. As I grew older, though, I realized that this was some of the best advice she ever gave me. I’ve made some unconventional choices in my life. I’ve done things “most people” wouldn’t even consider. And all things considered, I think I’m happier and more fulfilled because I haven’t followed a standard, mass-approved path.

Don’t be a sheep” applies to my writing as well. I don’t choose what I am going to write based on what’s currently hot in the market. In fact, I take perverse delight in challenging the current literary fashions, taking stereotypes or genre tropes and turning them on their heads.

That was the genesis of my new erotic romance The Gazillionaire and the Virgin. Some time after the release of FSOG, I was chatting with my blog mates. One of my friends said, “If I read about another romance about a brooding, dominant gazillionaire hunk and a shy, inexperienced virgin, I think I’ll upchuck.”

Great title, I thought. But what if the obscenely rich gazillionaire was the heroine? And the hero was virgin?

That was all it took to send me off on a genre-busting quest to create a sexy and romantic tale about a woman who has it all and the inexperienced but naturally dominant nerd she falls for.



I can almost hear you thinking. A virgin hero in erotic romance? How could that possibly work? I don’t want to read something so weird. Everyone likes alpha heroes— like the guys in thousands of other BDSM erotic romance novels.

My answer? Be a bit adventurous. Give The Gazillionaire and the Virgin a try. If you like BDSM-themed erotic romance with both heat and heart, I think you’ll enjoy it.

Don’t be a sheep.

Buy Links (Ebook and Print)


Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

All Romance

Kobo

Smashwords

Google Books

Excessica


 





Friday, January 15, 2016

Beautiful Smut

I recently spent a while browsing around Excitica.com. This is a relatively new storefront created by Selena Kitt to market taboo erotica. The site sells books that would be banned elsewhere, featuring themes like non-consensual sex, incest in a variety of flavors, abuse and humiliation, golden showers, and so on. The listings, in some cases, are not subtle. I won't quote them here because I suspect they'd offend at least some of my readers.

You want to know my reaction to this site, though? Honestly? I wanted to see my own books up there on that page. I had a fierce desire to write some totally outrageous taboo erotica--or smut, or porn, whatever you want to call it--without censoring myself.

I could do it, I know, though I'd probably need to establish a new pen name, to avoid alienating my more conservative readers. While many of these taboo themes don't appeal to me, some definitely do. They feature in my own private fantasies. I'd love the chance to write them down and share them.

Of course, anyone can write porn. At least that's the general view, though I'm not sure I subscribe to it. What I want to do is write beautiful porn. I'd like to create absolutely filthy stories that are so exquisitely crafted, so breathlessly arousing, that you forget, while you're reading, that they're stroke fiction. I want to sweep readers away, into the depths of depravity, without them realizing it. I want to corrupt you, to lead you into my world of personal fantasy and show you just how hot things you'd never dared consider can be.

Sound dangerous? I suppose it is. I guess I'm reacting to my years of living under the thumb of erotic romance editors. I just finished an edit of one of my legacy books for a re-release. The editor pretty much forced me to take out several taboo sections, sections that I felt were essential to the book. I thought about pushing back, but eventually I caved. I decided the publisher probably knows their market better than I do. Still, I felt I was betraying my original erotic vision.

I probably won't act on this impulse, partially because I have no time, and partially because I still have some discomfort about being associated with porn. Much of it is so badly written--but readers don't care. Plus there are some themes highlighted at Excitica that I actually disapprove of. Even I have to admit that's hypocritical, though.

And if I'm already embarrassed by people's reactions to my explicit fiction, how would I feel if I owned up to being the author of Banging My Brother or Raped by the Billionaire?  Erotic romance is (just barely) respectable. Taboo erotica has a huge audience, but you won't find anyone admitting they read it.

So for now, this will remain nothing but a fantasy--like the ones kindled by some of Excitica's titles.



Thursday, September 24, 2015

Uncensored Innocence

Over the past couple of weeks I have been re-editing and revising my second novel, Incognito, for a new release. (I’ll be adding a new chapter soon.) One thing that has struck me about this book, originally published as erotica by Blue Moon in 2003, is how innocent it is.

If you’ve read the novel, you may be astonished by this comment. It’s one of the most explicit and transgressive things I’ve ever written. It includes almost every variety of sexual activity I can imagine (well, that I did imagine!)—bondage, spanking, flogging, age play, ménage (FFM and MFFM), femdom, lesbian and homoerotic activity, public sex, anonymous sex, even a double penetration on a billiard table. How can I call such a story “innocent”?

What I mean is that when I wrote the novel, I was innocent. Innocence implies a lack of knowledge, even ignorance. The word definitely describes me at that point in my career. I knew nothing about the constraints or conventions of genre. I had no notion that some types of sex were banned. (Of course, the rules might have been looser a decade ago.)

Incognito is unquestionably a romance, though I didn’t write it with that conscious intention. The story follows the core trajectory of that genre, chronicling the development of a loving relationship between my heroine Miranda and my hero Mark. The classic obstacle has to do with Miranda’s fear of loving sex, due to her early experiences. Over the course of the book, she conquers this fear. The novel has an unequivocally happy ending that even includes an engagement ring.

At the same time, the book breaks all the rules I’ve (since) learned about the expectations and preferences of romance readers. While Miranda is figuring out how she feels about Mark, she has all sorts of sexual adventures with other people—mostly strangers—women as well as men. I’d never dare write something like this for a romance audience now. They’d hate me and give me one star reviews. In fact, I’m sure my editors would censor such activities right out of existence. (They've done that with much less blatant examples in other books.) Back then , though, I wrote what turned me on and what fit my characters. Miranda represented certain aspects of myself. I’m bisexual, at least in theory. She put my theories into practice.

Then there’s the fact that the book includes sex between cousins (who pretend to be twins), and the sexual initiation of a seventeen year old male by his much older aunt. As I edited this (very hot) scene recently, I wondered whether I’d be forced to cut it. These days it’s eighteen or nothing, and anything even hinting of sex between family members is strictly verboten.

I gave away my virginity at the age of fifteen. I can’t pretend that teenagers are asexual beings. I supposed I could bump up the age of my hero by a year or two, but it wouldn’t have the same impact.

As I work my way through a book I wrote so long ago, I remember the thrill I felt creating it. I reveled in the freedom to expose and explore my fantasies. Miranda’s adventures go far beyond what I’d dared in real life. I blush now at the extreme quality of some scenes. At the time, though, I didn’t bat an eyelash. I found these scenes arousing. I didn’t doubt that my readers would, too.

The book is currently available at Totally Bound, and they’re going to re-release the new version. They’re a pretty traditional erotic romance publisher. I wouldn’t be surprised if they want me to cut or alter some of the more controversial scenes.

Writing this blog post has made me realize that I’m not going to do that. I won’t do violence to the original vision of the novel. If they won’t publish it in its current form, so be it. I’ll take it somewhere else.

Innocence is precious. I believe it should be cherished.


Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Decisions, Decisions

By Summer Jordan (Guest Blogger)


If you love a “bad boy” hero, raise your hand.

There are limitless choices in today’s world. Paper or plastic? Ultra Soft or Ultra Strong?  Cold water wash or With bleach?  Print or electronic?  Kindle or a Nook?  Why did everything have to become so complicated?

A procrastinator has enough struggles when shopping…and while books are much more appealing, whether writing or reading fiction, there are many decisions to make.

First of course, is the genre, historical, contemporary, futuristic, romantic suspense, and on and on.  And then…characters. Plot is important but it all comes back to the hero and heroine to carry the novel.

Alpha male or beta male hero? Personally, I like a combination. In my latest book, Bad Boy, Back in Town, from Total-E-Bound, Rob Harrison gained a bad reputation in high school by screwing every girl he dated. But he wouldn’t fuck Kitt Maxwell (even though she wanted him to) because “she was a good girl” and he liked the way she looked at him like he was some sort of god; he didn’t want to lose her admiration.  Rob lived in the worst part of town and had nothing growing up except the good looks God gave him, and he used them to his advantage.

Kitt adored Rob, and why? Perhaps it was his cocky attitude, his dimpled grin, and the way he carried his cigarette pack rolled in his tee shirt sleeve right above his bulging bicep. They became friends without her parents knowing she was meeting him in a deserted barn. He sometime satisfied her sexually so she wouldn’t give in to some other guy, but they never really made out. After high school, Kitt thought she’d never see him again but always hoped she would.

Kitt, an amateur PI, is visiting her aunt while working an area case, and delighted to learn Rob is back in the Florida town he left twelve years ago. What surprises her is that he’s living high…but where is he getting his money? Kitt hopes he’s not the gigolo she’s looking to arrest, especially since he’s ready to give her what she always wanted.

I wonder if there isn’t a little of that in most women?  An attraction to the “bad boy” in town.  Decisions, decisions.  Do you want a handsome smooth-talking lover or one that swaggers and curses like a lumberjack? A gentle adept lover or one who likes it rough and exciting? 

How do you want your hero to look? This takes us to another decision. Do you like specifics on physical appearance or do you prefer to be vague so the reader can picture him in her own mind? How does he dress? Of course, the cover illustration will play into this in some ways.  In erotica, the guy could be all muscles and nearly naked and solve the problem.

Whether you’re writing a book or choosing one to read, heroines present the same decision-making. I have a three book series, Lusty Ladies, where the women are openly seeking hot men. In my three Wives-R-Us books (Let Me Entertain You, Engaging Deception, and Breaking the Rules), Lea, Margo, and Erin are more refined, with careers and deeper goals, but their desires are just as strong.

One huge decision if you read or write erotica concerns sexual orientation. So far, I have only written male/female romance. Male/male or threesomes, etcetera, are big sellers and vampires and shape shifters are too.  I like to write a full-fledged story with a little mystery and humor, and of course, a lot of sex and romance and deep emotions.

Decisions, decisions. As a reader, what genres do you prefer? Do you like to know exactly how the characters look?  What kind of hero do you prefer? Preferences in heroines?  Do you want adventure and mystery woven in with wild sex and romance?

How do you want to read?  Paperback, hardcover, or downloads on an e-reader? Have you fallen in love yet with the ease of downloading to a device you can carry in your purse or briefcase?

Writing and reading novels are all about choices, but the selections available are much more tantalizing than picking from the multitude of products on the supermarket shelves. And most of us know what turns us on.

I knew a bad boy once…head over heels for him, but he didn’t have the redeeming qualities Rob Harrison. Now, I just read and write about these sexy specimens.

Blurb

Rob Harrison was the thorn in Kitt’s side, the nightmare that woke her, and the love song that made her cry. 

Irresistible Rob Harrison, the sexy bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks that Kitt Maxwell worshiped in high school, is back in town.

Now an apparent success, Rob is hot for Kitt, her long-ago dream come true…but is he the gigolo this budding detective is looking to arrest?

Excerpt

Kitt Maxwell opened the door to an insistent pounding and a man fell into her arms. Looking down at a shaved head lodged between her breasts, her heart pounded wildly. An escaped convict? A murderer? Or maybe a rapist. She’d come to Summerville in search of a criminal but hadn’t expected one to come looking for her.

The guy hung onto the doorframe supporting part of his weight but made no effort to move his nose from the middle of her cleavage. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, the bum was burrowing a little deeper. He could easily turn his head and by raising it just the slightest bit latch onto one of her nipples. Her pulse quickened and perspiration beaded its way between her breasts. Could he feel it through the thin cloth of her blouse?
Would he think she was hot for him if he did?

“Thanks for the soft landing,” he said, chuckling.


That clinched it. He was incarcerated for a sex crime. Most likely rape. And she might be next. “You pervert,” she sputtered. Pulse racing, she shoved the heels of her hands into his chest and he slid to the ground.

“Whoops,” he said, grinning up at her. “I think I might have had one teensy whisky too many.”

“One…?”

He flashed twin dimples and she caught a glint of gold from a front tooth.

“Oh my God.” Heat flooded Kitt’s body and she clasped a hand to the spot where his face had recently rested. “Rob? Rob Harrison?”

His chuckle trailed off into a faint snore. Of course it was him, but she didn’t expect an answer since her one-time heartthrob was passed out on the threshold. One-time heartthrob? Who was she kidding? She’d been mad for him but he wouldn’t give her what she wanted. No one would believe her if she said Rob refused to take her cherry. But he had refused, after she’d done everything she could to make him lust after her body.

She leant forward and touched his bare head. What happened to his thick, blond hair? She loved the way it waved so tightly it felt crisp to her touch. Had he just been released from prison? Or worse, escaped? Kitt’s heart pounded and she again pressed a hand to her chest. Feeling faint, she leaned close and shouted, “Rob? Why is your head shaved?” She shook him by his shoulder. “Answer me.”

He didn’t even blink. The lower half of his body lay on the front porch, the upper part in the entryway, and he reeked of liquor. One whisky too many, indeed. One bottle, maybe. But then he hadn’t said ‘one drink’.
She stood, hands on hips, and pushed the toe of her sneaker into his ribs. He rolled over onto his side. Grinning, he blinked and his eyes lolled shut again. He wasn’t a heavy drinker as far as she knew, so why had he tied one on tonight?

She shouldn’t even try to figure it out. Nothing Rob Harrison did should surprise her, and yet, it always did. The real shock this time was that he’d shown up at Aunt Sugar’s the day after Kitt arrived for a visit. She hadn’t seen him in twelve years and had almost given up hope she ever would again. She shouldn’t want to, but she couldn’t forget Rob and the way he made her feel.

Now, here he was, close enough to touch. If he were awake and sober, she’d gladly lay down beside him. Better yet, she’d throw herself on top of him, her body against his. She used to press against him to feel his hard-on when they stood close to one another but as much as she aroused him, he’d always resisted her.

Rob Harrison was the thorn in Kitt’s side, the nightmare that woke her, and the love song that made her cry.

“Who’s that, Kitt?” her aunt called from the den where she was stretched out on the daybed, per Kitt’s instructions to rest.

Outside, a huge moon lit the sky. Shining through the open door, it cast gentle fingers of light across Rob’s wonderful face. Recalling the brilliant blue of his eyes, she wished he’d open them wide, but when he did, they’d have to talk and she didn’t know what she’d say. Nor what he’d have to tell her.

“Rob?” she said, gently. Damn, he was sexy, even in this sad state.

She’d always believed he was a good person inside but what if she’d been wrong? What if he was on the lam, either from the law or another woman he’d put under his spell? There had always been girls chasing him in high school and she was sure he’d left a trail of beautiful, heartbroken women wherever he’d been since.

Kitt ran her eyes over him. Broad shoulders, bulging abs, narrow hips. She fastened her gaze on the fly of his pants and wished she could see what lay beneath it. She’d longed to see him naked but the most he’d ever exposed to her was his muscled chest with a sprinkling of blond hair. She’d touched that soft mat but he’d always brushed away her hand before she could rub his nipples the way she intended.

Bio

Summer, aptly named, loves sunshine and water, palm trees, and fragrant tropical flowers.  So, it’s no wonder, she and her sweetheart now live in Florida—and love it.

Her favorite pursuits, other than reading and writing, are boating, shelling, and shopping—with shoes and earrings her major weaknesses.  Seafood, especially scallops and lobster, and big leafy salads are her favorite foods, but she loves finding new restaurants where she can try unusual dishes.
   
Summer has a BA and MS and has worked in sales, finance, and education but now spends her days writing and otherwise enjoying life.