Review Tuesday Moved to Monday: Best Lesbian Erotica V3 - #lesbian #erotica #anthology #ReviewTuesday

Best Lesbian Erotica of the Year: Volume Three edited by Sacchi Green

Cleis Press, 2018

These days, I don’t read many anthologies. In too many cases, I find that erotic short story collections feature one or two gems, surrounded by unremarkable, predictable tales that slip from my memory the minute I put down my e-reader. Anthology stories tend to have a sameness that, quite frankly, bores me. My own long history in erotica is part of the problem, of course. I’ve consumed so many sexy tales in my twenty year erotica career that I’ve become somewhat jaded. I’m difficult to impress.

Best Lesbian Erotica Volume Three turns out to be a welcome exception. Sacchi Green has assembled a dazzling assortment of stories that explore lesbian desire from a wide range of perspectives. Every tale is competently written, and most are arousing, but at least half go way beyond these minimal criteria. To put it colloquially, they knocked my socks off. I’d finish one of these amazing stories, take a deep breath, wait for my heart rate to return to normal–then go back and re-read it.

“Morning Fog” by Scout Rhodes is a case in point. Almost a prose poem, this tale captures a moment in time, celebrating the profound physical and emotional connection between two women with histories and scars.

Here we are, she and I, two old queers who have endured long, curious, circuitous lives that have brought us to this place, this morning, this moment. We’re neither of us gold star anything, having fucked men, women, trans folk, and many, many people between the two of us. We’ve both borne, breastfed, and raised children created the “old-fashioned way,” which makes us pariahs in certain hard-line lesbian circles. We both identified as bisexual in our youth, we’ve both married men in our time, we’ve both been subjected to degradation and abuse at masculine hands, but

now we’re both butch dykes, and we’re both survivors. That’s it— we’re gold star survivors. Isn’t that enough? It sure feels like a lot, after far more than a century of combined years.

Two gold star survivors who found each other in this crazy, neo-fascist cesspool that America has become, and we hold on to each other for dear life while living in the crosshairs.

This story combines tender emotion with raw physicality in a one-two punch that left me dizzy with admiration.

“Where There’s Smoke” by M. Birds, which comes next in the volume, offers a radical contrast in structure and tone. A small-town marijuana vendor finds a new customer, and a new lover, in a crippled city professor who needs the pot for pain relief. June, the dealer, is a practical, no-nonsense woman forced by circumstances to bury her dreams. The social distance between the two women makes their eventual connection all the more intense.

The woman in the woods didn’t shake June’s hand and June noticed the curves of her long fingers, the way they stuck tight together like she was wearing mittens, knuckles round and swollen. “What do you want exactly?”

“I wanted to see . . . ” June paused, chewing her lip. “If there was anything you needed. Kyle said there might be.”

“Kyle from the pharmacy.” Miriam crossed her arms. She glanced back into her cabin, and then out toward the path leading through the woods. “Did you walk here?”

“Yeah. Didn’t take long. I live in the Wander-Inn. I mean, I own it. Or my family does.”

“Is that the one that looks like an Alpine resort? It’s very . . . very, um . . . ”

June laughed and nodded. “Like a time warp, isn’t it? Like someone from the sixties saw one postcard of Switzerland and then dropped acid and thought ‘I should build that.’”

“I was going to say—quaint.”

“Sure you were.”

I’ve rarely read a story by Sommer Marsden that I didn’t love. Her tale “Husher” in this collection is no exception. More light-hearted than the previous stories, the story chronicles the hook-up between a painfully tongue-tied barista and the black-clad hair stylist she’s been crushing on for weeks. Angela, the stylist, seems like the dominant partner in the interaction. But appearances can be deceiving.

One thing that impressed me about this collection is the many varied definitions of “erotic”. In Pascal Scott’s “The Night Shift”, the protagonists – the fifty-something night supervisor of a tour company call center and a lonely woman who mis-dials trying to reach a phone sex line – don’t even meet. Yet this story is just as hot as those that feature much more extended and explicit sex scenes.

An even more extreme example is Xan West’s astonishing piece “Trying Submission”. The point-of-view character is a shy, physically disabled, autistic trans woman of color who somehow summons the courage to ask a trusted acquaintance to top her. For Liliana, every touch is a potential threat, yet she craves the experience of submitting, of being owned and being cherished, of being called “girl” and calling her top “ma’am”. There’s no sex at all in this story, yet I found its emotional depth and honesty beautifully erotic.

Then there’s Raven Sky’s wonderful “Fuck Me Like a Canadian”, which chronicles a steamy affair between a dread-locked Canadian backpacker and an exquisite Moroccan haman attendant.

There is a heat to attraction. An energy. You can feel it. It’s undeniable. This is the last place I expected to feel it. Not least of all because it’s illegal here. Is it punishable by death? I strained to remember my online research predeparture. Morocco. Homosexuality. What did Google have to reveal about that? My mind blanked. Because her hands were on my naked flesh, lathering me in a traditional black olive oil soap. Something in her actions was more than indifferent. Something in her eyes, when they happened to catch mine, was not impersonal.

In Till’s culture, women can play, but penetration is forbidden, the prerogative of some future husband. The constraints only make the characters’ interactions more poignant.

I won’t tell you about every story I loved. I want to leave some discoveries for you to make on your own. However, I have to mention the last story in the collection, Anna Watson’s “Sweet of My Heart”. In this richly imagined and romantic tale, set in Depression Era New York, a penniless dance hall girl falls for one of the “Angels” attending the charismatic preacher who runs a network of soup kitchens. The life experience of Mimi La Rouge and Charmed Soul could hardly be more different, but desire draws them together and cannot be denied.

I lean into her and reach out to take up the very end of her braid. I pull off the string she’s tied it with, and slowly begin to separate the strands. When I’m finished, I place both hands on her cheeks and kiss her forehead between the wings of her hair. She blushes and stays very still. I move behind her on the bed, lean against the wall, and draw her close between my legs so her back rests against me. I spoon myself to her, the rough weave of her undershirt delicious on my nipples, the slick of her smooth slip lovely on my cleft. I do know to tread lightly with girls like my Charlie. I do know that. I press close, I rub my body on her. Oh, sweet of my heart the darling! She can’t hide it. She is breathing, sighing, and helping me to rub. She need not turn around, though, my skittish thoroughbred. For this first time, I will carry her and bring her along.

Butches and femmes, fresh young things and veterans of the cultural wars, experienced dykes and dreaming innocents, wealthy sophisticates and women barely getting by, rock stars and ballerinas, professors and truck drivers – you’ll find all these and more in Best Lesbian Erotica Volume Three. Sacchi Green has done a remarkable job weaving these disparate narratives into a satisfying and coherent whole.

There are several series of anthologies entitled “Best”. All too often they disappoint. In the case of this book, the title definitely fits. Overall, these are the best lesbian stories I’ve read in a long time.

Repin’ the Realness of Race, Class and Wellness in Erotic Lit - #LGBTQ #womenwriters #blackwritersmatter

By Stephani Maari Booker (Guest Blogger)

Writing has been my lifelong vocation, and for a good chunk of my life I’ve been a voracious reader of erotica, mostly F/F erotica being that I’m a lesbian. However, I’ve written only four complete erotic stories in my life, plus an erotic fantasy romance that’s currently in progress. On top of having had jobs in journalism and nonprofits, I do a lot of different kinds of writing, so erotica just isn’t always on the front burner when I have many other things cooking on my stove.

In my completed erotic stories, I’m repin’ the realness of race and class when folks hook up. To translate from African American Vernacular English to Standard American English, I’m representing the everyday truths of race and class in romantic/sexual relationships. I’m not depicting big conflicts and dramas but rather the down-to-earth little pushes and pulls between intimate partners that with respectful communication, love and a little sex can resolve into deeper understandings and connections.

An interracial and inter-class couple are main characters in two of my published erotic stories. Madeleine (“Maddi”) is an African American woman from an urban low-income background who fought for the education and opportunities to enable her to have a lower-middle-class job, while her lover Freya is a European American woman who’s been middle class since birth and is a classic lesbian eco-feminist Goddess-worshipper. Their differing perspectives based on their backgrounds and identities affect their individual choices and beliefs about everything, including money and sex, often with amusing results.

My first published story with Maddi and Freya is “The Trade-In” in Coming Together: Girl on Girl, one of Eroticanthology.org’s collections that raise money for charity. In “The Trade-In,” Freya wants Maddi to get rid of an unattractive, cheap jelly-rubber dildo and replace it with a quality silicone one. However, Maddi thinks it’s extravagant to pay a lot of money for a sex toy.

The second published story featuring Maddi and Freya is now in Owning It: Embracing Our Bodies, Sexuality, and Power, a newly released anthology from SinCyr Publishing, a press whose mission is "shifting rape culture one sexy story at a time." Here’s the publisher’s description of this collection:

“Owning who we are is powerful. By embracing our bodies and owning our desires, we best experience beautiful, sensual, and intense sexual expression. The characters in Owning It love their bodies regardless of their physical limitations. In these pages, a Daddy and his 'little' explore the healing waters of a DD/lg dynamic. Others enjoy a wide range of sexual encounters and relationships from playful to intense, from straight to queer, from light to dark. These authors give us characters that truly own it.”

The idea of “owning it” includes proudly claiming your identity and recognizing how it informs your sex life, as well as managing issues of health and ability in ways that benefit sexual, physical and emotional wellness. My story in Owning It, “The Best Medicine,” focuses on these themes by repin’ the realness of race, class and wellness in a romantic-sexual relationship.

The story takes place at the beginning of Maddi and Freya’s relationship, when a particularly irritating minor health problem threatens to put the brakes on their new sex life. In this passage, Maddi has told Freya over the phone that she has a yeast infection. Freya, a self-described witch, proposes natural ways to cure the infection that are rejected by Maddi, who tends to look askance at anything that seems impractical and superstition-based. However, there’s one method Freya offers that Maddi can’t refuse:

“Ohhh,” I heard Freya moan. “You know, Maddi, you could just eat yogurt instead of using the cream. Yogurt will cure you of yeast just as good.”

“Yeah, yeah, Ms. All-Natural,” I dismissed her idea, like I do most of her hippie-dippy nature girl stuff. “It probably takes forever to work, like all those natural cures you’re into.”

“A plain yogurt douche works, too,” she kept on.

“Please, like I need something messier and slower than Monostat cream! Freya, my baby doll, I love you, but let up on that stuff sometimes!” I hated to even admit I was following some of her “food is the best medicine” advice, but I did it anyway:

“I am eating yogurt on top of using the cream every day, though. I want to knock this shit out. But in the meantime, my poonani is off limits to you, baby!”

“Hmmm…you know what? I could help you with this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I could…this weekend…give you some plain yogurt.”

“Illlh!” I stuck my tongue out with disgust. “Plain yogurt with nothing in it?

There’s no way I’m eating that.”

Slowly and slyly, she said, “I didn’t say anything about giving it to you to eat.”

No. She. Ain’t. Talking. About... “Hooooh…hell naw, woman!”

“A plain yogurt application—just what the natural health practitioner ordered!” she proclaimed, her voice high with triumph.

“Mm-hm,” I conceded. “Aren’t you happy you’ve figured out a way you do your little natural girl thing on me?”

“I’m happy I found a way where you would let me,” she replied, sounding as cheery as a chipmunk.

Are you itching (pun intended) to read about Freya’s sexy medicinal ministration to her lover Maddi? Then pick up a copy of Owning It: Embracing Our Bodies, Sexuality, and Power, where you can read this story as well as 14 others in which people of many genders, sexual orientations, races/ethnicities, classes, ages, abilities, sizes and kinks find health, hope and happiness through sexual healing.

Owning It on Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1128291186?ean=9781948780025

Owning It on Amazon: http://amzn.to/2CB9t87

SynCyr Publishing info: https://sincyrpublishing.com/2018/03/24/owning-it-release-day/

About the Author

Stephani Maari Booker of Minneapolis, MN, writes prose and poetry for the page and for performance in which she wrestles with her multiple marginalized identities: African American, lesbian, lower-class, nerdy and sexy. She has nonfiction, science fiction, erotica and poetry in many publications. For more information about Stephani's work, go to www.mnartists.org/smbooker or www.goodreads.com/athenapm.

Giveaway!

Leave me a comment with your name and email, and I’ll enter you into a drawing for a free ebook of Owning It, courtesy of SynCyr Publishing.

Seven Things to Expect from a Lisabet Sarai Story - #SaturdaySeven #consistency

Anyone who has checked out my website or who follows my blog knows that I don’t really restrict myself to a single genre. I’ve written contemporary romance, historical romance, sci fi, thrillers, paranormal, urban fantasy, lesbian and gay fiction, even a bit of humor. Unlike many authors, I can’t say “I write...” and finish the sentence with a nice, neat summary of my work.

I make no excuses for my lack of consistency! I like variety in my reading, and that’s true in my writing as well. Still, there are some constants, some characteristics you can pretty much depend on when you pick up a book I’ve written, whatever the genre.

1. A vivid, usually specific setting

As I mentioned last week, I’ve done a lot of traveling and lived in quite a few places. I tend to use my experiences as background or inspiration for my stories. For me, the setting is almost another character.

This is particularly true of the Asian Adventure series I’ve been publishing over the last six months. Each of these books is set in a different Asian locale. In fact, the latest Asian Adventure tale, Dragon Boat Blues, just came out yesterday. It takes place in Ha Long Bay, northern Vietnam. I did a dragon boat cruise myself a number of years ago. I’ve tried to bring my memories to life in this story.

2. Characters who break stereotypes

I don’t usually write alpha male heroes or fragile, innocent heroines. I try to make each character as distinctive as I can. I love nerdy, intelligent guys and brilliant, assertive women. My characters also cover a wide range of ages, from late teens (e.g. NecessaryMadness) to senior citizens (Gray Christmas). Oh, and they’re not all beautiful or physically perfect, either. For instance, the heroine of Dragon Boat Blues is disabled.

3. More or less explicit sex

I don’t close the bedroom door on my characters. I’m fascinated by sexuality and not ashamed of that fact. Some of what I write would be considered erotica. My romance tends to be pretty steamy. The tone depends on the story and the characters. I can write raw and I can write tender. However, very few of my books could be rated G.

4. A plot with some real conflict

Without conflict, there’s no story. All my characters face obstacles, internal, external or both. They make decisions and face the consequences, hopefully growing and changing in the process. In some books (for instance, The Gazillioniare and the Virgin) the conflict arises from the characters’ differing values and priorities. In others (Quarantine, Exposure, BangkokNoir) I have hostile forces threatening the characters’ happiness. Either way, I don’t make it too easy for my characters.

5. Surprises

I really hate predictable books. So I try to work at least some suspense or surprise into everything I write. I want my readers to turn the pages, wondering what’s going to happen next. Actually, surprise goes hand in hand with realistic conflicts. In the real world, you can’t necessarily know how some difficult situation will turn out. Writing romance, which requires a happy ending, it’s a challenge to keep the reader guessing, but I do my best.

6. Interest in and respect for diversity

Although I’m a white, middle class woman, my characters often are not. I have written black, Asian, Caribbean, Latin American and European characters. A number of my stories are told from a male point of view. Quite a few of my tales would be categorized as multicultural and interracial.

I also value diversity in sexual orientation. I want to explore the richness of human experience in my stories.

7. Decent editing and correct grammar

If a reader pays to buy one of my books, she deserves a quality product. I am now self-publishing most of my work. I try very hard to make sure readers won’t be annoyed by the sort of typos, messed up formatting, or grammar gaffes that I find in many self-published books.

* * *

I hope you sample some of the other Saturday Seven posts today. You can find a full list at the Long and Short Reviews blog.

Is Diversity a Liability? (#diversity #amwriting #branding)

If I were looking for a logo, I might choose a Pu Pu Platter.

Do any of you remember those pseudo-Polynesian appetizer assortments, complete with the fiery wrought-iron cauldron in the middle to heat up all the finger food? Do they still exist? When I went searching for images on my favorite stock photo site, I came up with zero hits. Are PuPu Platters totally passé? Have they gone the way of granny glasses and lava lights?

Modern concerns with healthy eating have probably played a role in the platter's demise. It's difficult to imagine a more fat-and-cholesterol intensive repast than the traditional fried wonton, crispy egg rolls, barbecued spareribs, battered giant shrimp, cheese-filled crab puffs, and all the other delicacies that might show up ranged around the flaming Sterno. One PuPu Platter can undo weeks of toil at the gym.

But God, how I loved them! Indeed, I recall that on my first real date, my companion (with whom I was highly enamored) ordered us one. This may explain my lingering fondness; PuPu Platters are somehow mixed up in my mind with sex. (Not that I had sex on my first date, of course, but a teenager's hormones color everything in her world). And there are some similarities, after all. A PuPu Platter is decadent, all luscious flavor with little food value. You devour the components with your fingers and lick off the juices afterward. And you can't eat one all by yourself. PuPu Platters are made to be shared.

The real attraction for me, though, is variety. (I also adore mezze plates – Middle Eastern appetizer assortments.) A taste of this, a hint of that, never enough of any one dish to be bored – that's what I love. Diversity is my ideal in life. I want to sample a wide range of different experiences, rather than being forced to choose one dish, one path, even one person – although I have been married to the same guy for more than thirty years. (He likes variety, too.)

As a reader, I also seek out diversity. Anyone who scrolls through my books on Goodreads will find plenty of erotica, true, but also romance, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, classics, historical novels, biographies, plays, poetry, a bit of almost everything. If you focus in on the erotica, you’ll see I read and review work ranging from extreme hard core BDSM to sweet vanilla. I read and enjoy gay, lesbian, bisexual and multi-partner fiction – contemporary, historical, futuristic – really, whatever I can get my hands on.

Most authors write what they like to read. Hence it's not surprising my books are all over the map. At this point I’ve published nine novels (defined as works over 50K words). Two are gay erotic romance – one paranormal, one sci fi. One is M/F and F/F erotic noir. One is M/F paranormal. One is steampunk BDSM paranormal ménage. My first three are even harder to classify, offering a bit of everything, from a sexual perspective – from exhibitionism to enemas – with many assortments of gender and in one case, a parallel historical subplot.

I’m proud of my books. I like the challenge of tacking new genres as well as new forms. However, lately I’ve started to believe that diversity can be a liability to an author’s career. When someone asks you what you write, “almost everything” may not be a strategic answer.

Think about the authors whose names are household words. Steven King writes horror. Anne Rice writes paranormal. P.D. James writes (or wrote) mysteries. James Patterson writes political thrillers. Nora Roberts writes romance. J.K. Rowling writes fantasy. (Remember how nasty the critics were when she published her realistic contemporary novel, A Casual Vacancy?)

I couldn’t think of any really popular writers whose books vary as much as mine do, from one to the next.

Meanwhile, my favorite authors are the ones who can write anything – and do. M.Christian comes to mind as maybe the best example. I’ll devour anything by Kathleen Bradean/Jay Lygon. Jonathan Lethem’s wild imagination produces something different in every offering. And though I haven’t read anything by him in a long time, John Barth used to delight me with every book I read. I never knew what to expect – and that’s the way I liked it.

Of course, in answer to the question, “what do you write?”, I could say “erotica”. That doesn’t pin things down much, though. Some erotica readers are pretty picky about the themes and topics they want to read. I know people who find anything other than BDSM fiction totally boring. Others have complained they can’t find hot vanilla M/F stories anymore. The segment of the erotica market that’s reading primarily for arousal wants stories that push their particular buttons. Someone who gets off on water sports isn’t interested in femdom. And so on.

Anyway, the “erotica” answer isn’t strictly true. I also write erotic romance, which has a different audience. I’ve been told in no uncertain terms by some erotica readers that my stories were too tainted by romance. Meanwhile, I’ve had romance readers shy away from my work as “too hot” and “too much like porn”. I’ve considered adopting a new tag line: “Too raw for romance, too sweet for smut.” (I’m only halfway joking.)

I guess I have to accept the fact that the majority of readers does not value variety to the extent I do. Instead they are seeking predictability – the antithesis of enjoyment, from my perspective!

This is a bit depressing, if I allow myself to dwell on it.

Am I willing to focus on one sub-genre in order to become popular? If I were making my living as an author, I think I’d have to. Fortunately, I have the luxury of writing what I feel like – of indulging my love of diversity.

Now all I have to do is find readers with similar tastes.

Anyone care to share a Pu Pu Platter?

Protesting the New Normal (#newrelease #antitrump #erotica @MoveOn)

This is a political post.

Normally I try to avoid politics and controversial religion on my blog. I am a strong believer in every individual’s right to his or her own opinion, as long as no one tries to foist that opinion on me. Live and let live has always been my motto. Plus I recognize that despite the appeal of painting the world in black and white, almost every issue actually involves shades of gray.

Normally, I’d just title this post “New Release”.

However, things these days are not normal.

The United States is about to swear in a president whose main claim to fame is his ability to insult other people in 140 characters. I’m not going to bore you by listing all his objectionable traits. If you share my views, you are already far too familiar with his vile behavior. If you’re one of the people responsible for today’s historic and, to me, horrifying event—well, you’ve probably given up reading already. Unless of course you’re preparing to leave me some comment full of invective, in the manner approved by your candidate.

Anyway, the day after the election results were announced, Alessia Brio, the founder and guiding light of the charitable erotica imprint Coming Together, sent out a call for submissions. Coming Together: Moving On is an anthology of fiction and poetry on themes made painfully salient by the presidential campaign and its aftermath: civil rights, equality, LGBTQ rights, tolerance, charity, sexual assault, politics, voting rights, immigration... You get the idea.

It's out today...Inauguration Day.

All proceeds from the book benefit MoveOn.org , a civic and political action group which has been at the forefront of efforts to resist the president-elect’s dangerous agenda and nominees, and his un-presidential behavior.

I’ve got a story in the book. I know many of the contributors. We’re donating our work for free, fighting our despair, because we want to do something to improve the situation.

It might not be much. But each of us can make a small difference, writing, and then living, our principles. 

 

Here’s the table of contents:

Introduction by Alessia Brio

Passion's Pull by Corbin A Grace

Hypocrites by Alyssa Turner

When There Are No Words by Sonni De Soto

The Help by Sonni De Soto

Kayla's Birthday Present by Ashlyn Chase

The Stoning by Michael Swanson

Checklist by B.K. Bilicki

Divided We Fall by Lisabet Sarai

For Their Own Good by Lola White

We Desire Many Things by Skilja Peregrinarius

The Aisle Of Lesbos by Allison Wonderland

A Healthy Passion by Mary Winter

Moving On by Kally Jo Surbeck

My story, “Divided We Fall”, is set in a near-future Los Angeles in which different ethnic groups have been confined to their ghettos and encouraged to wage war on one another.

Here’s a bit to give you the flavor.

***

There are no walls. Just IEDs, trip-wire bombs and snipers. We've learned a few things from the jihadis.

The Santa Anas whip at the white rag attached to my broom handle as I cross Vermont. No-man's land. Black hair tangles in my eyes, obscuring my vision. I should chop it all off, maybe even shave my head. That would be safer. Would look scarier, too. Pathetic how vanity survives, even in the most desperate situations.

Afternoon shadows stripe the broken pavement. The only vehicles visible are burned-out skeletons, picked clean by scavengers from both barrios. I dart from one to the next, keeping a good distance away from the blackened hulks while still trying to use them for cover as I approach the Niggertown gate. Any one of them could be booby-trapped, though that would break the unwritten rules that have allowed us Viets to co-exist with the niggers. So far at least.

I don't want to be here. I've got no confidence my truce flag will buy me any kind of safety. But what can I do? My little brother's disappeared, last seen headed toward the black ghetto. We searched every corner of Viet Village. Unless he's deliberately hiding―not likely given his age and his usual good behavior― he must have wandered outside the bounds.

The many kinds of harm he might meet scroll through my mind like credits for some old movie. I force myself to slow down as I approach the West Century intersection, the only un-mined street leading east into Niggertown. Gripping my flag in one hand, I raise the other high to show I'm unarmed. It's true, aside from the switchblade hidden my boot. I don't step out of the abandoned grocery my family calls home without that knife.

When I sleep, it hangs from cord around my neck, nestled between my breasts. Older Brother calls me Blade-Heart. He thinks it's a joke, but his nickname suits me. I might ask Uncle Pham to tattoo it on my bicep.

"Freeze, bitch."

I'm expecting the challenge, but still, my stomach does a queasy flip. I remain motionless, as instructed, keeping both hands visible. A tall, lean figure steps out from behind some pollution-rusted shrubbery in front of a ruined apartment building. He carries his Kalashnikov like it's another limb, one which he points directly at me. Funny how there's never enough food, but no problem getting guns.

"What you doin' here? This ain't your territory. You get your gook ass back 'cross the street before I kick it back!"

Though the guard talks tough, I can see he's young, maybe younger than I am. He fixes me with a belligerent glare and brandishes his weapon like he'd just as soon shoot me as not, but there's a softness to his mouth that lets me imagine him smiling. Using his left hand to draw an ugly blade from his belt, he strides in my direction.

He wears threadbare jeans and a faded camouflage shirt, open to the waist. The inky skin on his bare chest gleams with sweat, despite the brisk wind. The paler flesh of a scar slashes across his chest, just above his left nipple. That must have been a dire wound, close to fatal. He might be young, but he's no stranger to battle. None of us is, these days.

"You hear me, bitch?" he growls and jabs at me with his knife.

Instinct taking over, I shrink backward, then recover. He mustn't think I'm afraid. Straightening my spine, I raise my flag a bit higher.

"I claim the right of truce." I make my voice low, even, and respectful. But not subservient. "I'm looking for my three-year old brother. He wandered out of our territory earlier today. Someone said he might be in Niggertown."

"You better hope he's not." The guard gives me an evil grin. "Me and my boys just love a bit of barbecue."

I ignore his jibe. He's just trying to pull my chain. I hope. "Can I have a look around? Please?"

"Any gooks enterin' Niggertown got to pay the toll." His leer widens, his white teeth a shocking contrast to his soot-dark complexion.

****

If today’s events make you as sick as they make me, consider buying a copy of Coming Together: Moving On. Take a stand against the new normal. (And enjoy some great fiction, too.)

Amazon

Smashwords

Available at other booksellers soon.

All of the Above (#variety #branding #erotica)

1. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?

a. Vanilla

b. Coffee

c. Pistachio

d. Butter crunch

e. All of the above.

2. Who's the sexiest guy on the silver screen?

a. Clive Owen

b. Jake Gyllenhaal

c. Hugh Jackman

d. Robert Downey Jr.

e. All of the above

3. What's your favorite genre?

a. BDSM

b. M/M

c. M/M/F

d. M/F/M

e. M/F

f. F/F

g. Paranormal

h. Scifi

i. Thriller

j. All of the above...

I don't generally have trouble making decisions. I don't agonize about things like which car to buy, or which job to accept, or where to take my vacation. I gather the necessary information, weigh the advantages and disadvantages and choose the alternative that seems to offer the best balance between the pros and the cons. I'm convinced that there are no wrong decisions in any case. Each choice will send the path of my life off into a different direction, but I have a strange confidence that any direction will have its satisfactions and rewards.

When someone asks me to choose a favorite in some dimension, though, I find myself stymied. I have two possible answers: "it depends" (on how I'm feeling on a particular day) or "all of the above". Unfortunately those kinds of questions pop up all the time in author interviews. What's your favorite food? Your favorite author? Your most romantic memory? Your favorite genre?

Well, I'm rebelling. I refuse to choose. Or rather, I choose variety. If I had to commit to a single genre (or two), I'd lose the creative spark. Writing would stop being fun.

I'm probably hobbling my writing career by not specializing. I recently penned a blog post about building a brand as author. A brand is based on distinctiveness, quality and consistency. I think I've got the first two components under control, but consistency? No way.

I mean, I like to think that my writing is consistent in its craftsmanship. But I've written pieces in practically every genre, with every combination of genders and orientations. I like to mix things up. My first novel includes M/F, M/M/, F/F, and M/M/F/F scenes, as well as a scene that I can't express using short-hand that involved three guys and one woman. In one book.

I've written contemporary, historical, paranormal, noir, even comedy. I haven't written any chick lit—yet—but I've got several chapters of a 1950's satire. I've written about vampires, monks, millionaires and bums. One of my favorite ideas (which I haven't pursued because I suspect I won't be able to sell it to anyone) involves a romance between a woman and a hermaphrodite.

If my main goal were to sell lots of books, I'd have to settle down and choose one content configuration that would define "Lisabet Sarai" for my readers. Most likely I'd choose BDSM, a genre which pushes my personal buttons. But would I write M/M BDSM? M/F? BDSM ménage? Each sub-genre has its own dedicated readers. Choose one and I lose the rest.

I can't seem to even get my mind around writing a series. Once I've written one book about a set of characters, I'm eager to move on to something different. I want to stretch my abilities, exercise them by staking out new writing territory. Right now, for instance, I'm roughing out the plot and characters for my first sci fi romance. I'm also turning over some ideas for an erotic mystery.

So I guess "Lisabet Sarai" is unlikely to become a household world. You can't package me into a soundbite. My tagline is "Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac". It identifies the main constant in my work, my fascination with sexual desire. Beyond that, anything goes.

What's my favorite genre? All of the above.

Let Me Entertain You

Let me entertain you.

Let me see you smile.

Let me do a few kicks,

Some old and then some new tricks;

I'm very versatile.

- Stephen Sondheim, from Gypsy

I grew up singing musicals. When I was still in grade school, I knew most of the lyrics from "My Fair Lady", "South Pacific", "West Side Story", and "The Sound of Music". We had all the records (LPs, of course). My mom, in particular, used to play them while she was doing housework. I've always picked up songs and verse, without really trying. So I can still sing "On the Street Where You Live", "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair" and "Tonight", as well as dozens more classics.

One of my mother's favorites was "Gypsy". I can see why, now—she was a bit like Gypsy Rose Lee's mom, flamboyant and stage struck. (It was her idea, for instance, for me and my two siblings to perform on a local TV amateur hour.) As for me, I was fascinated with the character of the famous burlesque star. I must have known even at that young age that there was something naughty about Gypsy's vocation. (I've always had instincts about that sort of thing!) Anyway, I would belt out "Let Me Entertain You" while I was doing the dishes, in between renditions of "Have an Eggroll, Mr. Goldstone" and "If Mama Was Married".

I realized recently that the song above could be my author-ly theme. I don't write to become famous (it'll never happen) or to contribute to the canon of great literature (despite my fantasies). For the most part, I write because I want to entertain my readers—and myself. And like Gypsy, I'm very versatile. I write in a wide range of different styles and genres, depending on my mood.

Want serious BDSM romance? Try Raw Silk, The Understudy, The Ingredients of Bliss, or one of my D&S Duos books. Do you like M/M stories? Pick up a copy of Necessary Madness, Quarantine or Crossed Hearts. If vampires are your thing, you might enjoy Fire in the Blood, my M/M/F vampire ménage set in Jamaica, or Fourth World, a collection of dark paranormal stories. Speaking of ménage, if threesomes get you going, check out Wild About That Thing (M/F/M), Truce of Trust (M/F/M with a touch of BDSM), Coming in Costume (M/F/M with a lot of BDSM) or Monsoon Fever (M/M/F historical). Are shape shifters your favorite genre? Let me entertain you with my cat shifter tale The Eyes of Bast or my Mayan paranormal Serpent's Kiss. How about steampunk? Get a copy of my outrageous multi-genre tale Rajasthani Moon.

(You can find buy links for all of these books at my website: http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html. Check out the covers in my cover gallery or browse my categorized index.)

I've noticed that many authors seem to specialize, to carve out a niche and stick to it. Not me. I'm easily bored, I guess. Or presenting myself in a more favorable light—I like to challenge myself by attempting to write in new genres. In addition to erotic romance, I also write literary erotica, stories that don't necessarily focus on a single relationship or have a happy ending. Some poetry, too.

There's another song from "Gypsy", sung by several of Gypsy's fellow strippers, called "You Gotta Get a Gimmick":

You can pull all the stops out

Till they call the cops out,

Grind your behind till you're banned

But you've gotta get a gimmick

If you wanna get a hand.

You can sacrifice your saccro
Working in the back row.
Bump in a dump till you're dead.
Kid, you gotta have a gimmick
If you wanna get ahead.

I sure hope that this isn't true. I'm too busy exploring to figure out a "gimmick". My stories have some common features and themes, I guess, but they are all quite different. That's both good and bad, I guess. A reader who has experience with one of my books doesn't really know what to expect from the next. On the other hand, if you're the sort of reader who likes things fresh and new, you might want to check me out. And if you're not ready to buy, check out my extensive collection of free stories and poems.

Meanwhile, I'll go back to working on a few tricks for my next books.

Maybe I should write a story that revolves around musicals.

A Genre I've Never Dared to Attempt

Anyone who looks at my back list will realize that I love to experiment with new genres. Easily bored, I really don't want to write the same sort of book over and over again. Instead, I'll branch out and try my hand in a sub-genre that is different from anything I've produced previously.

Gay erotic romance? Sure, why not?

Science fiction? One of my first loves.

Historical? Tough to do well, but given how much historical fiction I read as a kid, how can I resist?

How about a vampire book? No problem, though don't expect my vampires to follow all the traditional rules.

Steam punk? A total blast!

Humor? I'll give it a try, though my siblings used to ridicule me when I tried to tell jokes.

I realize this is not the best way to build a brand. Indeed, I'm sure that my diversity - or lack of focus, to look at it from a negative perspective - is at least partly responsible for my lackluster sales figures. That's too bad, but I really can't force myself to stick to just one or two genres.

I realized recently, though, that there's a genre I've never attempted. And now that thought is niggling away at me, tickling my sense of perversity.

I've never tried to write sweet romance.

Could I? Could I really keep the bedroom door firmly shut and still generate that sense of being swept away by emotion?

Should I? Or do my fans only want the explicit heat for which I'm known?

Would it be a waste of my time? Or an intriguing experiment?

What do you think? I actually have a couple of characters I've been working on and a setting back in the golden age of  Hollywood. I'd write the story for my beloved 92 year old aunt, who despite her own rather colorful life (three husbands) tells me she finds my books embarrassing.

Is it worth the effort? Should I take up the personal challenge? Do I dare?

Or is this a totally silly idea for someone whose tagline is "Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac"?