Another Story

When I come to think of it, it seems to me there are roughly two kinds of writers. The ones who have one story to tell and they write it down and that’s it. They’ve told what they considered important and if they have nothing more to tell, they won’t.

Then there are the other ones. The ones who write because that’s what they do. It might not always be all that grand and important what they have to tell, but it sure needs to be written down regardless if anyone will ever read it. They see and hear stories everywhere, and characters live inside their heads as a matter of routine.

I guess I’m a bit of both. Now and again there’s something I need to write, an idea that has to be shared, a thought that simply can’t be contained to the confinement of my private mind. Even if it would be the only thought I’d ever put to paper, I'll write it down and at least try to share it with others.

I’m also a writer because that’s what I do. I write for the sheer joy of seeing how thoughts in rare moments of grace translate to sentences that actually look good. I also write for the frustration of knowing that no matter what I try, something is not quite right.

Even if at moments writing is a real struggle, it’s never fully gone.

And now it’s time to write another story…

S. Dora

Billions of Fun Ideas!

Recently, I  was chatting with a Dom who had a very interesting experience. He was on the elevator of a very nice office building in Denver. A woman entered the elevator carrying a copy of a very popular book about bondage.

 

He asked her if she’d read the book. She blushed and stammered a bit before asking if he’d read it. He said there was no need. He lived the lifestyle.

 

She exited the elevator, and that was the end of it.

 

But the meeting provided me with much food for fodder.

 

When I had the opportunity to craft a story for the first Total-E-Bound Billionaire anthology, I was beyond excited. What if the conversation had been slightly longer? What if the man/Dom had offered to introduce our heroine to the lifestyle?

 

What if the man were richer than most people on the planet? What if the heroine were brave enough to follow up on his bold proposition?

 

What if the experience were more profound than either could have imagined?

 

I had more fun writing this story than almost anything else I’ve ever done. (And what a follow up to the Clandestine Classic offering—Jane Eyre! From Victorian England to the Wild West!)

 

It was wonderful to let my imagination run wild, to have the hero send a limo to collect my heroine for a night at a very exclusive club. The way Phillip dresses, behaves, moves through the world is elegant. He’s a Dom among Doms.

 

I hope you have fun indulging in YOUR fantasies, no matter what they are! (Can’t wait for the real-life Dom to read the story to see what he thinks of the new ending to his elevator story!)

 

 

Ample Delights Out Today!

I'm thrilled to be celebrating the release of my eighth book with Total E-Bound! Ample Delights is now available for your reading pleasure!

At times, it felt like I'd never finish this book. I do believe the characters never wanted me to type 'The End'! They were having too much fun! Ah, well, so was I. I'll admit to having a blast crafting this tale and I do believe you too will fall in love with Terrah and Nick's hot island romance!

Here's the blurb:

Beauty, brains and voluptuous curves...Terrah’s exactly the kind of woman Nick’s been looking for, but can he convince her that the smokin’ hot chemistry between is more than skin deep?

Terrah Bryant embraces her curves despite being immersed in the modelling world. Her job as a makeup artist requires confidence, creativity and the ability to stay focused in the presence of some of the world’s finest men. She has never had a problem until she works with Nick Tasso, a gorgeous Greek model who has a thing for voluptuous women. Terrah is swept away by the sizzling chemistry between them and emotionally unprepared when their electric connection blossoms into something more than hot sex. She struggles to deal with the media’s scrutiny over her body and their burgeoning relationship. Terrah must decide to trust her heart and face her own insecurities before she can have the 'happily ever after' she truly desires.

Here's a little teaser from inside the book:

Terrah stepped outside her room and headed down the hall towards Nick’s. Her red heels made no sound on the soft carpet as she walked. She squeezed her red clutch purse and tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her chest. She stopped in front of the door marked 910, took a deep breath, and smoothed her hands down the sides of her dress one more time before knocking.

The door swung open much too soon.

Nick stood before her, freshly shaven and breathtakingly handsome, dressed in white linen pants and a black shirt that clung to his muscled arms.

“Wow! You look incredible.”

“Thank you.” Terrah smiled, suddenly breathless and wired. “So do you. Are you ready to go eat?”

The smile he gave her melted her bones, making it very difficult to stand with poise.

“Are you?”

They stared at one another for a second.

Terrah swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m starved.”

Her voice was a whisper and she could barely hear herself speak over the wild roar of her thudding heart.

“So am I.”

“What do you have a taste for?”

The answer flashed in his eyes. Nick reached for her, yanked her hard against his body and kissed her. She parted her mouth as he dragged her into his room. The door shut silently behind them and her purse fell to the floor. His arm tightened around her waist, their lips melded and Terrah moaned with need. The force of attraction between them could no longer be denied. She wanted him to take her…make her scream his name as he had promised her she would. Nick shifted his lips from hers and the sound of their hurried breathing filled the room.

“Nick…”

“Don’t tell me to stop.” His voice was ragged and dark as he backed her up towards the bed.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I want you so bad, Terrah.”

His words and his hands on her body made her want to show him she felt the same way. She tugged at his shirt, lifting it up over his head as he raised his arms.

“I want you, too.”

Nick slipped the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and Terrah shivered as it fell to the floor in a soft heap around her feet.

“Look at you.” His heated gaze swept over her from head to toe. “You’re so damned beautiful. I love your body.”

“Tell me what you love, Nick.” Terrah reached out to touch his chest as he traced a line across the top of her breasts.

“These curves. The way you feel in my arms.”

Terrah moaned as he gripped her hips and kissed her.

~~~

Copyright © Nichelle Gregory, 2012

Did you enjoy reading my tease?

Tell me...who is your favorite sexy model and why?

Share your answers below for a chance to win a copy of Ample Delights!

Buy Ample Delights here!

Nichelle Gregory 

Simply sexy stories...

www.simplysexystories.com 

www.simplysexystories.blogspot.com

Snuggling With Fall

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am not a summer person. Too much sun and excessive daylight hours spoil my mood. Sorry to all the sun-worshipers out there, but hot weather is not for me.

In my southern neck of the woods, we're still having some pretty hot days, but the nights are becoming much more comfortable. I'm smiling just thinking about it. The biggest reason I love this time of year is the snuggle factor.

Fall and Winter have a huge advantage over the other seasons. Cooler temperatures mean I want someone next to me. I want to crawl under that arm on the couch or sleep tucked close to a warm body. Plus, there's all those sexy, adventurous forays that are more fun when the sweat on your body is because of pleasure and not because of hot air.

So here's a toast to the new weather moving in and everything invigorating it inspires. 

~Ayla

Ayla Ruse
Ensnare yourself in love
http://www.aylaruse.com 

Thresholds and what they don't mean (to me)

I've recently reached an age (I'm not going to tell you the number because it doesn't matter) which is sometimes seen as a sort of threshold. I mean, one of those points which lead people to say things like "now you're an adult" or "now you're too old to..." or "now you should think about...".
This kind of threshold into a different phase of your life should apparently give you pause, make you reconsider what you've achieved so far and where you want to go from here - at least that's what people keep telling me.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/nypl/3109775829/lightbox/

While I think it's a good idea to stop, take a deep breath and reconsider your choices and what you're doing from time to time (just to make sure you're not hurting people and still doing what feels good to you), I don't think there's a specific age, point or moment for that. And I really don't believe in behaving age appropriately. Sorry. Life is much too short to behave according to stupid cultural stereotypes.
My grandmother (the cool artisty one) used to say age is just a number, not a sell-by date. And I agree with her - wholeheartedly. If I want to build Lego castles on the living room floor or wear a neon-green tutu and flowered rubber boots to the supermarket that's not anyone's business, right?!
You know what I'm going to do with that threshold? I'm going to sit on it to think about nothing in particular, draw some flowers on it, have wild threshold sex on it (not sure if that's feasible, but will try), dance over it, invite my neighbors and have an impromptu party in the hallway next to it. That's what I'm going to do with that threshold.

Now I've told you what I think, I'm curious to know what your thoughts are. Do you believe in the deeper meaning of thresholds? Let me know in the comments if you like.

I usually lurk around here, although recently I'm spending a lot of time on Facebook (drop by and like my page if you like).

Of Mutinies and Monsoons

Ever since I first read M.M.Kaye's 'Shadow of the Moon', I've been fascinated by tales of the Sepoy Uprising of 1857. Kaye's story painted a beautiful picture of the Glory Days of the Raj, not only the balls, the  beautiful, impractical dresses and the devoted  Indian servants, but also of the insidious rot that compelled dissatisfied Native troops to rebel against their East India Company oppressors. There are numerous theories, sound and otherwise, as to the real cause of the mutiny, which I won't go into here. What isn't disputed are the accounts of the atrocities committed by all parties during this turbulent period.

I knew that I wanted to write a story set during the Revolt. I just wasn't sure how to approach it. When I decided to set part of the first 'Endersley Paper's story in India during the uprising, the first thing I had to do was search for some reliable sources, then decide where I was going to set it. A lot of accounts deal with the Siege of Lucknow and there are several very good books which would've provided this author some great research material, but that particular siege was also at the heart of one of my favourite novels of all time, 'Zemindar', by Valerie Fitzgerald. I decided that I didn't want to revisit Lucknow, knowing that I could never do it justice. By happy accident, I stumbled on an account which included the Siege of Agra - 'A Lady's Escape from Gwalior and Life in the Fort of Agra during the Mutinies of 1857' by R M Coopland. Dear Mrs Coopland had accompanied her husband, Reverend Coopland to India, to the town of Gwalior. Unfortunately, her husband was killed when the troops mutinied and she was forced to flee, with others, to Agra, where they took refuge in the Red Fort.

Mrs Coopland's account of the siege provides those little everyday details that I crave: What they ate, where they slept, where they lived, what they did to pass the time. Admittedly, Mrs Coopland was less than charitable towards the locals, good and bad, but if I overlooked her obvious prejudices, her story was just what I needed. Armed with that information, all I had to do was to throw my characters, Jacob and Marcus into the fray. The events surrounding the Siege  of Agra were far less dramatic and prolonged as the Siege of Lucknow, but I'm hoping that I did the characters and the events  justice.

The trickiest part, though, was taking the story back to Victorian England. How can two men who love each other expect a Happily Ever After at a time when the Sodomy Law forbade such a relationship? Well, if you want to find out what happened, you'll have to read the book!

You can find it here: Lord of Endersley

Hot Spot Hot Snog!

Well hello folks, It's my turn to blog here again and today is a Sunday. This is brilliant news because it means you get an introduction to my weekly Sunday Snog!

Every week  for the last 15 months or so I've run my Sunday Snog which brings authors together and provides you, the reader, with lots and lots of hot kissing excerpts.

I'm a big fan of the kiss, I love to read them and I love to write them. So some stray spark of inspiration had me set up a weekly event that feeds my need for lip-locking action. And it took off in a big way. We're up to Sunday Snog number 54 this week and we've had several special Blisse Kiss events too which involve all the authors taking part giving away a prize, they're always great fun.

So, as it's Sunday Snog day today I'm going to share with you a kiss from Switching the Control my latest Total-E-Bound release which you can currently get with a 10% discount!

“Fuck, Melissa,” he gasped. “You’re so beautiful.”

I blushed, pulled my gaze from his and manoeuvred myself so that my hands were either side of his head. It changed the friction between us. I grunted my approval and I didn’t care that it was an unladylike sound. I didn’t care and I continued to grunt and moan and pant and he liked it.

He stroked my back and sides and made deep, growling sexual noises that spurred me on, kept me rocking on him. I felt like part of him, I felt like he was part of me and I didn’t ever want to pull away but I could tell by the way his hips began to bump faster and faster that he was close. His sexy noises became louder, a littler higher in pitch and more desperate in their resonance. He gripped my hips. His fingers curled until his nails dug into my flesh.

“Yes,” I yelped. The pain heightened my pleasure and he came shouting my name and drowned out my words. Richard stiffened his hips and I continued to rock back and forth as he shook and shuddered in orgasm. His grasp loosened and I slipped down onto the cool of the bedcover beside him.
“You,” he panted. “You didn’t come.”

“I’m fine.” I smiled, and I was. I was surprisingly satisfied by his pleasure and as much as I still ached for more I didn’t feel like I’d missed out on something. In fact, I knew that I’d just experienced something incredibly deep and intimate and that scared me. I was beginning to form excuses in my mind, reasons to leave. I started to panic, but he stopped me.

“Well, I can’t have that.” He rolled over and ran his hand down over my stomach and into the fuzz of my pubic hair. “I want to see you come.”
“Oh, it’s nothing you’ve not seen before.” I giggled and covered his hand with my own. “And it’s getting late. I shouldn’t…”

His lips came down on mine and stole the end of the sentence from me. He slipped his finger down to my clit and softly rubbed, all the time kissing me and draining me of all resistance. I couldn’t think, so I didn’t have time to panic about exposing too much of my soul to him. I had to kiss him back, respond to his enthusiasm. It didn’t take much to push me over the edge. I’d been teetering on it since he’d gone down on me. He kept kissing me as my climax shuddered through me and he ate the groans that burst from my lips to his, as I shook and clamped my thighs around his hand.

“There.” He smiled. “That’s better.”

Pick up your copy of Switching the Control for more hot snogs and office BDSM action. For more Sunday snogs check out http://blissekiss.co.uk and I hope to see you visiting my snogs in future!

The More You Have - The More You Want!

Gee - I could be talking about almost anything, couldn't I? As it turns out, it is pretty close to what you think; we are at the Hot Spot after all! Ever since I let on to my friends that I've been writing erotic romance, there's been a myriad of different responses. I've been very fortunate in that the majority have been very positive and supportive. Even one of my most religious friends told me, "I just don't see anything wrong with it." I've also been pleasantly surprised to find out just how many of my friends and acquaintances are avid readers of the genre as well. So that made me wonder - since we were already sharing our love of naughty literature - exactly which type of erotic romance they all fancied. It's been an interesting education.

For myself, I first became interested in reading, and then subsequently writing, BDSM because of some personal dabblings in the lifestyle. That subject became my primary focus, and for a while, I assumed that would be all I would write about. But then, I tried a menage, and the dynamics of making a happily-ever-after out of a three person scenario was really thrilling for me, and became my new favourite. From there - I wanted to know what it would be like if there were F/F intimacy, and then M/M intimacy in the menage. Now the floodgates were opened, and I decided I should just go on and write a full-fledged M/M, balls to the wall, happily-ever-after. In the meantime, I was also looking at adding historical, sci-fi and paranormal themes. Phew. Am I just too out of control?

My research proved to me that I'm not the only one who wants more. My friends surprised me with their own eclectic tastes. While there are a few people out there that I've come across who are strictly into one type - and one type only - of erotic genre, the majority love the freedom of being able to choose from several different ones. Even my very religious friend shocked little ol' me with her declaration that she found the M/M stories to be her new favourite. Who knew?

I think it's awesome when one is open to different types and expressions of love. I've been able to increase the variety of things that I read and write about by taking that stance, and I believe it's helped to keep it fresh and exciting for me, and subsequently, for my readers. How about you? Are you a tried and true contemporary M/F, or do you like to change it up? If you haven't considered it before, maybe take a chance on something new right now. You'll never know unless you try, right? And what safer way than through an erotic romance story that you can explore in the privacy of your own home? There are plenty to choose from at TEB - so have yourself some saucy fun!

Phantom - Hot or Not

I happened to be doing some research on the Clandestine Classics, since I have one of my own. I got to work with Gaston Leroux and gave The Phantom of the Opera added heat.

I love to see what others are saying. Sometimes this is good, sometimes it's painful. One thing that stuck with me as I researched was the comment that the CC authors added porn to the books. Hm. I have a teensy issue with that. I realize not everyone who comes in contact with erotic romance will agree with me that there is romance in the heat. Some will look at it and call it porn. IMHO porn is an erotic act without emotion behind it. "She's faking it so it looks hot for the people watching the act." Is that always the case? Maybe. Maybe not. But to label erotic romance as porn is lumping the genre in with things it's not. Just because Raoul spanks Christine doesn't mean it's porn. They are acting out the emotions they have for each other and the play includes spanking. I can't stand the term mommy porn and I wish people who like to use that term would educate themselves on what erotic romance is. Beating your chest and shouting Mommy Porn to me is like admitting you don't really know what you're talking about but need something to shout.

Another thing I've seen is that 'everyone has to read them so don't screw with them'. Now maybe I went to a school where we did things differently, maybe in college I missed a few days because I *Never HAD* to read Phantom. I did because I wanted to. I never had to read Pride and Prejudice. No one required it, so I didn't. I have since, but when I was in 10th grade, I didn't have to read it. It wasn't required, as someone stated it should be. So there will be new people brought to the Classics because of the CC books.

The other thread I keep seeing is that the CC authors 'ruined' the classics. Are you sure? I'm still of the belief that people who wrote books during the time of Phantom also wrote dirty books. They wrote erotica. Were they the same authors? Not necessarily, but it was out there. And guess what? Those who chose to write hot, weren't given the same applause as the ones who didn't. Heck, there were women writing under men's names so they could get published! So to say we've ruined them by taking the stories in a hot direction doesn't hold water. Then the zombie version, the vampire version and every other variation should be trashed in the same way the CC books are. But they aren't.

Here's my take. I enjoyed letting the characters in Phantom do what they wanted between the sheets. In fact, it's hard to believe that characters living and loving in the Opera were snow white in their actions. It doesn't make sense. But we don't have that in the classic novel. So? If you want the original, read the original. If you want to widen your horizons and try the hotter version, then read the CC books. You might be offended or you just might be pleasantly surprised.

Do I seem a little hot under the collar about these books? I am. Why? Because fiction is fiction for a reason. It was born out of someone's imagination. Let that imagination run wild. You never know what you'll find. I'm not the first person to make Phantom hot. I won't be the last. Some want Raoul to get the girl, others want Phantom to get her. Changing the ending can be seen as the same sacrilege as letting them get hinky. So live, let live and let the kink have it's day. You might be surprised and find an author you want to read more about.

Now here's a little bit more about my take on The Phantom of the Opera: The Phantom of the Opera

Gaston Leroux and Wendi Zwaduk
Total-E-Bound
Novel
historical
m/f, bdsm, spanking, multiple partners
Available here!

The Classics Exposed…

A chance sighting at the Opera, fated love, and three lives in turmoil.

One man pledges to own her, while another wants her heart. The Opera sets the stage for romance and intrigue. In the catacombs below the building lives a man rife with sorrow and passion. The Phantom. But he’s not content to live alone. He wants to possess the one woman who can set him free.

His Christine.

Viscount Raoul de Chagny doesn’t believe the rumours of a Ghost living below the Opera. He only has eyes for Christine, his childhood friend and first love. Together they embark on a sensual journey of discovery and fiery desire.

But she can only have one man. Will love raise her up or tear their world apart?

~ ~

Want to know more about Wendi Zwaduk? Here you go:

I always dreamt of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favorites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line. I earned a BA in education at Kent State University and currently hold a Masters in Education with Nova Southeastern University.

I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals. I also write under the pen name of Megan Slayer.

Site: http://wendizwaduk.com/
Blog: http://wendizwaduk.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/WendiZwaduk
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Too Many Cocks?

Is it possible to have too many cocks? Apparently so. And for anyone wondering why - I've been editing.

I know I have a bad habit of using my favourite words and phrases repeatedly. In some cases it's not a major problem - I can change "look" to "glance", interchange moans and groans, and that's fine. Sometimes it's tougher. I had no idea how often I use the word "as", and it's not an easy word to find synonyms for.

And then we have the sex scenes.

I should add at this point that there was only one actual cock involved in this particular scene. It just happened to be mentioned several times. Unfortunately there are only so many words you can use for "cock" before it starts to sound silly. "Dick" is fine. "Prick" is an insult. "Willy" sounds like I'm back in primary school. I've got away with "shaft" and "length" before, but "hardness" only works through trousers, in my experience. And I really don't want to end up with "bobbing male cylinder".

I just hope my muse never comes up with an all-male threesome, or foursome, or more. Having that many cocks on a page would make my editorial head explode.

How does everyone get round this without resorting to purple prose or cutesy nicknames?

Happy Birthday!

Yep! Today is my birthday so I thought I'd give all of you a little gift of some eye candy. Once you're good and hot, feel free to browse through all the luscious books! Guess which one of these I want for my present.

Great writing or Hot Sex? Can't I have both?

Recently a high profile blogger in the romance world stated that "we" readers are willing to put up with so-so writing if the love story is satisfying.

I had to re-read that. Many times.

If we agree that the definition of "satisfying" is one the blogger would have to clarify and I note for you here that she did not define her term, then we can move on to her general statement and critique it.

Are you willing to read a mediocre work to get a high from the romance or the erotic aspects of it?

My answer is no, I am definitely not willing to "put up with" poor writing.

And while many readers might be looking for a quick fix or the Happy Hump, I am looking for a great story along with my HH. Specifically, with romantic suspense, I am looking for the crisis and plot structure that tell me I am thrilled. With historicals, I am looking for the accuracy of time, place and milieu as well as dialogue. With contemporary cowboys (especially because I live in cowboy country), I am looking for accuracy of character, dialogue and contemporary issues like Mexican cartels, gun-drug-prostitution and drought issues.

Yes, we all know that the indie side of the industry has (as another industry blogger has put it) shown us that the lack of gatekeepers has permitted, if you wish to call it this, a "race to the bottom" in quality. (Not my terms.) But it is still possible to see what an author is offering in quality and what a house is doing in terms of finding and editing talented authors.

How to find quality writers and their stories?

1. FREE is the new price point to find new authors, even those who are print/traditionally pubbed.

I must get 3-5 emails per day and ever so many Tweets announcing these offers.

I do take advantage of some, not all, of these. Some do not interest me, along the lines of: So little time, so many authors, etc etc.

But for those that do intrigue me, I bite. It is easy to download and very quick to ascertain if this author has what I want for my limited time of enjoyment each day.

Confession? I have downloaded quite a few books that I have deleted within 5-20% of the book.

I can tell ( and so can you) if an author understands POV, bad grammar, poor dialogue, info dumping and lack of research.

I can also tell a lot about the publishing house, too. If I find a house has poor formatting (which drives me up a wall), or no copyeditor. Worse, many houses will sign on authors who are frankly very new. Especially in erotica houses, I find most of their books offer up just a lot of Happy Humps. Great, if that is what you want in your reading. But I could go to a BDSM club or rent a few porno flicks and get a similar high. All in how you want your entertainment delivered I guess. But for this Reader, I want quality with my romance and erotica.

2. Sales at 99 cents and more are the new new upscale pricing points that denote other authors worth trying.

I will certainly spend 99 cents to try an author who is new to me.

Stats show this is true of millions of others.

What we are now seeing in sales analyses across many vendors is that anything up to $2.99 really sells a book, an author and has significant impact on his/her backlist. Any price point above $5.99 is not useful. Publishers have learned this and offer, often for limited times, their books at lower rates. Many offer the first in a series at a lower rate.

3. Trading books too is a great way to find new authors. The profusion of tablets/devices and lending programs means that I can discover new authors whom my friends and family like.

Heretofore, this was possible only if I bought the book and gave it away after finishing or told others to borrow it at the library.  Both either involved time or money.  Now, with the challenges to the library systems in the USA, this too becomes problematic.

Recently, a good friend of mine and I hooked up our iPads to each other's and gave each other more books than my eyeballs will ever read in this lifetime. But let me just say, her recommendations (and some of them were negative ones) were intriguing. Yes, I was intrigued by her negative reviews of some she gave me and those books (I use the term very loosely) along with the blogger's statement with which I began this post inspired me to write this ditty.

4. Reviewers really do not tell me about the quality of the writing and we know some of the old truths such as "everyone's a critic" and "what's good for the goose, is not..." often good for the next goose.

In fact, I find only a few reviewers whose assessments I trust. And I do mean people not sites.

So what is your take?

Do you demand good writing with your fiction?

Or will you take something other and call it worthwhile entertainment?

This inquiring mind wants to know!

“Coitus” of all things!

I hope you read my last post in which I introduced my very first book from Total E-Bound, Hyperpersonal, Hypersexual.  Since then, I’ve made some new friends, met some new authors, and written quite a bit!
First, I’d like to thank my fellow writer and erotica connoisseur Lisabet Sarai for suggesting that I share something about where I come from as an author.  She graciously published my post a few weeks ago on her blog, Beyond Romance.  I’ve adapted the post to share below, as I think many of you will relate:
 
My name is Genevieve Bergeron, I’m 24 years old, I live in Washington, D.C., and I write erotic romances.
 
The house I grew up in sat at the dead-end of a tree-lined cul-de-sac in Huntsville, Ala.  If there were a more boring, disconnected place, I couldn’t think of one.
 
Perhaps that ever-present feeling of disconnectedness is why I turned to books at such a young age.  I devoured science fiction novels by the dozens, classics, historical fiction, contemporary, nonfiction myth and legend—you name it.  This constant stream of mental stimulation made up for an ostensible lack thereof surrounding my childhood home.
 
The books turned me into one of those children. A precocious child.  An insufferable brainiac.
 
Yet, what’s funny is that I never asked my parents any of the normal questions. Or, more precisely, the normal questions one would expect from an avid science fiction/classics/historical fiction reader.  I’m sure my mother and father cursed the Gods—and often—for their luck.  Instead of “Daddy, why aren’t there people living on the moon?” there would be “What’s an orgasm?”
 
I was about six when I asked.  He replied calmly (against his better judgment), “Go look it up.”  A few minutes later, I stomped back to here he read contentedly. Visibly agitated, I demanded, “What’s coitus?”
 
I also remember the dinner party a few years later, where I explained proudly to my aunt that my new favorite word was “salacious.”  “Do you know ‘salacious’ means?” I asked. (I’ll be honest—I thought it meant “beautiful.”)
 
“No sweetie,” she said accommodatingly. “But let’s look it up.”

She led me over to a large, oak bookshelf, the kind that was built into the wall, and then hefted a thick, red Merriam-Webster down to the floor so both of us could lean in close and look together.  “Lustful.  Ooohh my,” she sighed, after having flipped to the right place.
 
I smiled brightly, clueless as to what “lustful” meant.
 
Darn those dictionaries for using complicated words—at least I thought they were complicated at the time—to describe what should be down-and-dirty, insanely pleasurable, natural—often animalesque—moments.
 
When I became an erotica author fifteen years later, it was no surprise. To anyone I know.

My love for erotic words (though, now, there’s little reference to cold, clinical terms like “coitus” and “orgasming” in my books) is limitless, but I tend to focus on erotica with a high-tech twist.  

My fascination with technology is a result of my background and (of course) my age. Between 2009 and 2011, I was enrolled in a graduate program at Georgetown University where I earned a Master’s degree in Strategic Communications and New Media technologies.  The beauty and complexity of the digital world, to me, is tantalizing (perhaps even hotter than sex!).  That’s why, in Hyperpersonal, Hypersexual, I decided to explore a sexual fantasy that springs, not first from physical attraction, but from a complete lack thereof. In fact, the attraction itself exists only in the imagination, at least in a digital world.  Makes sense—with online dating, sometimes you’re not even sure what your date is going to look like!  It was a challenge: could I write a book about texting and sexting and make it hot?  And encourage people to read it?  I don’t know.  You tell me. After all, as a writer, I'm still a work in progress!
 
So, tell me—what embarrassing stories do all of you have to share about your beginnings as an erotica author?
 
Hope to hear from you.
 
xoxo,
 
Gen

The Lonely Heart

This month, I have an excerpt for everyone! Since my newest novel, The Lonely Heart, will be available to VIP members from Total-E-Bound on the 17th, I thought it only appropriate to post a peek.


Enjoy!





 

Take two stubborn cowboys, add in one determined little boy, and toss in a snowstorm for good measure. Who knew building a family could be so hard?

If you ask Isaiah Preston, he’s pretty lucky. He’s happy in his job as a ranch manager, admires his boss, Grady, in more ways than one, and if he doesn’t have everything he wants, well, that’s life, isn’t it?

Enter one little brother, and suddenly Isaiah's comfortable world is turned upside down. Everything becomes complicated and he's seeing people in ways he never has before—good and bad. Near-perfect isn't enough anymore. Isaiah wants it all—home, family and, most importantly, Grady, in both his life and bed.
 

To get what he wants, though, Isaiah is going to have to fight prejudice, misunderstanding, and even Grady himself. 

Excerpt:

Isaiah stepped onto the porch, zipping up his coat with gloved hands. The ranch was quiet today, the boys hunkering down inside around the wood stove. Isaiah didn’t blame them. The snowstorm that had whipped through the night before had left more than just a thick coating of white on everything. The temperature was down around ‘forget the thermometer, I’m freezing my balls off’ and any sane person was staying inside beside the nearest heat source.

So what did that say about Isaiah? Probably nothing good. But he was going stir-crazy inside, and if he had to put up with Grady’s crappy mood for one more minute, he was going to snap. 

Isaiah’s sense of fair play took that moment to pop out and remind him that he hadn’t exactly been an angel to live with lately, either. He told his inner voice to shut up, but it didn’t erase that niggling sense of guilt.

Hell, maybe he just needed to get laid. When was the last time he’d used anything other than his own hand? Isaiah swore softly when he realised he couldn’t remember. No wonder he was so cranky.

Grady, on the other hand, was just being difficult.

The screen door squealed behind him and Isaiah’s jaw clenched. “Get back inside before you freeze to death,” he said around gritted teeth.

“Isaiah.”

Isaiah swung around. “What?”

Grady stood in front of the door, hands shoved in his jeans pockets, clad in nothing more than a thick AQHA sweatshirt. Isaiah rolled his eyes. The man really did plan on freezing to death.

“If you’re gonna bug me, at least put a coat on,” he ordered.

“You want to tell me what’s eating at you?” Grady pressed, making no move to go back inside. “Josh is worried.”

Isaiah snorted. “Oh, please. He’s so absorbed in that new video game you bought him we could blow up the couch and he wouldn’t notice.”

“What is with you?” Grady demanded. “I’ve never seen you in such a crappy mood.”

“You!” Isaiah whirled around. Everything welled up—the sudden responsibility of Josh, moving in with Grady, their constant arguments lately, the lack of sex. God, the list was endless, and Isaiah snapped. 

He ignored the way Grady took a reflexive step back, ending up pressed against the side of the house. Isaiah’s temper was in control and it felt damned good. “For the last month you’ve been wandering around in a daze. You barely talk to me and practically run from the room when I’m around. You spend half your time hiding in your bedroom and last night you fell asleep at dinner. You won’t discuss the ranch with me, you won’t discuss business plans. I don’t know what’s going on with you, and you’re obviously not interested in sharing. You want to be an antisocial bastard? Fine, but at least have the decency to quit lying to me.”

“I’m fine—”

“What the hell did I just say?” Isaiah scowled, planting his clenched fists on his hips and struggling with the urge to throw a punch at that stubborn jaw. Talking to Grady could be like talking to a rock. The man only heard what he wanted to hear, and most of that he chose to misinterpret. 

Josh and Isaiah had been living in the big house with Grady for nearly a month now. At first, it had been great. For the first time, Isaiah had felt like he was getting to know the real Grady—a big-hearted man whose laugh stirred equal parts lust and affection in Isaiah. He’d managed to shove back the lust, despite the looks he caught from Grady. They were building a comfortable little makeshift family here and he wasn’t about to mess it up by throwing sex into the mix. But just when they’d established a nice routine, Grady had withdrawn. 

Grady sighed and shifted from one foot to the other, one toe poking out of a hole in the blue woollen sock. “Can we at least discuss this inside where it’s warm?”

“No.” Isaiah could be stubborn, too. All right, it would be more effective if he wasn’t spiting himself with it, but Isaiah wasn’t feeling very rational at the moment.

  

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K.M. Mahoney

http://www.authorkmmahoney.com