Category Archives: Blog

Random Acts by Mia Kerick

Random ActsBlurb:

Bradley Zelder can’t find his way in life. After struggling for nearly a decade, he has yet to complete his college degree. Working as a school custodian, living in blue-collar Landsbury, MA, his love life is as empty as the rest of his existence. But on his way home after another disastrous date, his truck breaks down in upscale Oceanside. When he thinks life can’t get any worse, a man who is the epitome of Boston elite and everything Bradley finds attractive and intimidating helps him move his truck to the side of the road. Ashamed of his lot in life, Bradley almost lets the opportunity slip away, but he comes to his senses in time and tracks Caleb down.

From a random act of kindness, romance begins to grow, filling all the dark corners of Bradley’s empty life—until a random act of violence threatens to take it all away. Bradley must step up and be the man Caleb believes him to be. Caleb rescued him from a life without hope. Can Bradley rescue him in return?

Links:

Dreamspinner | Amazon US | Amazon UK | B&N | Goodreads

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Author Bio:

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

Mia has published four works of adult contemporary gay romantic fiction with Dreamspinner Press and four novels of contemporary LGBT fiction with Harmony Ink Press. Mia Kerick’s books are recommended reads in the LGBT blogging/reading community, have spent many weeks on Amazon Hot New Releases and LGBT Best Sellers lists, as well as other notable bestseller lists, and have won awards for excellence in YA literature. Author Links:

Website: www.MiaKerick.com
Blog: www.miakerick.com/blog
Goodreads:  http://bit.ly/1pl5bVl
Twitter: @MiaKerick (https://twitter.com/MiaKerick)
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mia.kerick
Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/1vowCBK
Dreamspinner author page: http://bit.ly/1xsRQT7
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/TLcDb

 

Giveaway:

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Stay With Me by Layna Pimentel (@LaynaPimentel)

Stay With MeBLURB

Master Alex is furious when a friend’s submissive invites a naive stranger to his party. With his reputation on the line, he must keep her out of trouble and away from curious Doms. Observing signs of interest from her, he leads her down the path of wicked temptations. However, when his ex-sub pushes her way back into his life, he tries to find a balance between his discreet life and his public one.

Mercedes is fearful of the world she’s stepped into, but the curiosity of what pleasures lie beyond keep her interested in far more than the play. All is going well until a jealous woman convinces her she’s out of her league. Desperate to regain control over her life and heart, she pushes Alex away.

Will these two manage to find their way to each other, or is their relationship doomed from the moment they meet?

EXCERPT

Mercedes popped an eye open to see the candle nearly burnt out. I don’t remember lighting this last night. Oh! The weight of a large arm wrapped around her, and the sheet hung off the edge of the bed. Alex! He spent the night.

He groaned into her ear as she adjusted her position. As she did so, there was a knock at her door. Mercedes gently lifted his arm and rolled out bed, grabbing her silk robe from behind the bedroom door and glancing at the time on the digital box, which read eight-o’clock.

Who the hell could be visiting so early? She’d paid the landlord three months in advance, and she hadn’t really met anyone to expect house calls.

From behind the door she called out “Who is it?”

“It’s me, dummy. Poppy and Brian.”

Shit. What now? “Poppy, it’s not really a good time. I was sleeping.”

“Just open the damned door. We won’t take up too much of your time. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Mercedes sighed. Reluctantly, she did as she was asked, and they made their way inside. “I’m sorry I don’t have any coffee, guys. I haven’t even been here long enough to go grocery shopping.”

“That’s all right, sugar. We only stopped in to see how you were holding up after last night,” Brian spoke up.

“I’m fine. Really. Though it was a shocker that Poppy would even think to invite me. But, as you can see, I made it home safe and sound, eventually.”

Never mind the fact that she had walked into a sick joke by Alex’s ex-sub—or whatever the heck she was called—Mercedes wouldn’t forget last night any time soon. The moment she had a chance to take up the issue with Poppy, she would. But not until they were alone.

As she sat across from her company in the armchair, Mercedes clenched her butt cheeks and relaxed them. She couldn’t get comfortable with the damned plug in her ass, and squirming or pouting wasn’t going to make it go away any time soon. Shoot! I forgot that was still there. “Is there any reason why this conversation couldn’t have waited ’til a more decent hour? Christ! It’s Saturday, and I had a long night, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Brian smirked and peered around her to look on the dining room table where Alex had left his jacket. “You never told us you had company.”

“Well, that’s because you never asked. Last I checked, I didn’t realize I had to inform you.”

He snorted, patting Poppy on the knee. “You’re a cheeky one. I can see why you and Poppy get along so well. We’ll be on our way.”

“So soon? I thought we might all go out for breakfast,” Alex announced from the bedroom door, wrapped in nothing but the bed sheet.

Mercedes flushed like a child caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Great. Now, everyone knows the kind of things we’ve been doing together.

“Christ, Mercedes. There’s no need to be shy. We’re all adults here. Now, come in here and get dressed so we can go out for some food. After that, I’ll take you to the grocery store.” Alex nodded to his friend. “Brian, how about you and Poppy meet us at Alessandro’s family diner?”

Mercedes was so embarrassed by the chance meeting between her friends and lover that she couldn’t meet his eye. I can’t believe he just did that. He might as well have stood there naked. Mmm…now there’s a thought.

Alex prancing around her apartment in the nude made for perfect entertainment. Who needed art to hang on the walls, when one swift look at his impeccably well-kept form was pleasurable enough? Just how did I get so lucky? If someone would have told her a week ago, that she’d move back to her hometown and find herself in the arms of a handsome, built, and uber sexy gentleman, she would have called them a liar.

She wasn’t exactly the perfect zero, or whatever the preferred size of women was these days. She was a healthy size twelve, with large boobs and a generously curvy butt.

For years, she had struggled with weight loss and trying to keep up with the social norm. But no matter what fitness center she joined, or fad diet she tried, her svelte body always came back. She’d practically given up thinking that anyone would accept her body for what it was. That is, until now.

Ugh. Must think positive thoughts. Alex…naked…

She imagined reaching forward and yanking the sheet from his body. Damn. Today is shaping up to be a good one.

 

WHERE TO BUY

Secret Cravings Publishing: http://goo.gl/1hRYvz

Amazon (U.S): http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00HLRD822/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00HLRD822&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelt-20&linkId=IF2CHIGT3GBLWHXY

Amazon (Canada): http://www.amazon.ca/Stay-Me-Layna-Pimentel-ebook/dp/B00HLRD822

Amazon (U.K): http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00HLRD822/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1634&creative=19450&creativeASIN=B00HLRD822&linkCode=as2&tag=lucyfelthouse-21&linkId=AKRADDCPOHUVIBKQ

All Romance eBooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-staywithme-1387008-147.html?referrer=6bdb1f9160564c0525b41f36e51861a0

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/395595?ref=cw1985

 

BIOGRAPHY

Born and raised in Toronto, Ontario, Layna discovered her love of reading at an early age. When she isn’t devouring salacious romance novels or writing, she enjoys losing herself in researching ancient history and mythology, weaponry, and hiking. She lives in Northern Ontario, with her husband and two daughters.

Layna is a member of the Romance Writers of America, creator of the Romance Author at Large blog, and is a monthly contributor at 69 Shades of Smut. For updates on her upcoming releases, or to leave her a comment, you can find at:

Blog/Website: www.laynapimentel.com

Twitter: www.twitter.com/LaynaPimentel

Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorLaynaPimentel

Emerald Talks about SAFE, Her New Collection of Erotic Stories

Emerald SafeThanks so much for having me today, KD—I’m so delighted to be back at A Hopeful Romantic talking a bit about my brand new short story collection, Safe!

When I first submitted a short story collection for consideration to 1001 Nights Press earlier this year, it was as a manuscript that contained seventeen stories, six of which were new and exclusive to the collection. I knew the book as a whole would be considered erotica and would not be marketable as erotic romance. This was mainly because of how a few of the stories ended.

As I’ve shared now a number of places, I interpreted Sharazade, the proprietor of 1001 Nights, as coming back with the suggestion that the manuscript be divided into two books. Essentially, upon our agreeing to do so, what I had submitted became two collections divided generally along the line between the erotic romance pieces and the erotica pieces. If… Then: a collection of erotic romance stories was released in September and has ten stories, including two of the new ones the original manuscript contained. (I got to go back and add three previously published stories I had pulled from the full manuscript due to length concerns. Yay!) Safe: a collection of erotic stories came out October 15 and also comprises ten stories, four of which are the remaining new tales from the original manuscript.

I feel much appreciation for Sharazade’s recognizing that the manuscript I submitted may work better as two books. Since I knew the intention with which I had written each story was along a similar line that made them all fit together for me, it is true that the outward tone and direction of some of the stories seemed different from a number of the others. Basically, I feel Sharazade was correct that the volume could be pretty distinctly divided between the erotica and the erotic romance stories.

I was and am aware that the audiences for erotic romance and erotica are different, and while I have seen the term “erotica” seem to be used as synonymous with “erotic romance,” I personally see the two as distinct and consider such a conflation a misnomer.

Probably the most tangible difference distinguishing erotic romance from erotica, as I see it, is the requirement of a happy ending. In my understanding, anything labeled “romance” (of whatever sub-genre of romance it is) must have the requisite happy ending. I completely understand this requirement of the romance genre as one that both draws readers and that readers expect. I also respect it and feel no desire to mislead anyone into reading something that may not interest her/him/them. I am delighted that I have a collection specifically for a romance-reading audience that embraces the personal connection and conscious commitment of romantic relationship in the context of erotic writing.

More subtly, I actually perceive the happy ending requirement of romance to be a happy ending of a rather specific type: that in which the main characters, who have been or are romantically involved, are implied to continue or remain that way (contentedly!) for the foreseeable future. Characters in my erotica, for example, may well end up happy as well, but it’s often had little to nothing to do with any kind of ongoing or developing relationship between them. Their sexual interaction may have left them quite content, but they may feel no desire to continue that interaction or develop a romantic connection. Many stories I’ve written have had these kinds of endings, and there are some with this type in Safe as well.

Perhaps most atypical of much of the contemporary erotica I have read, however, Safe also has stories that do not have particularly “happy endings” as they have often seemed defined in literature. And here there may be some readers of erotica as well who digress in preference from this occurrence. To some readers, as I have interpreted it, erotica is for purposes of arousal, and some don’t consider a serious or poignant ending to lend itself to such.

I can understand that perspective—though I will admit I don’t share it. For me, erotica (both reading and writing it) is for more than arousal. In writing erotic fiction, I aim to explore the human condition, connection, experience, and evolution via the force and energy of sexuality (one that is, it seems to me, to be reckoned with!). I experience Safe as an embodiment of my aim to do this.

Emerald Safe3As such, there are a few stories in <>Safe that do not end neatly and/or with contentment and satisfaction. At no point did I write anything for Safe (or do I feel compelled to write anything in general) that ends tragically or wrenchingly simply for shock value. That is not at all the point. Rather, the stories “end” as the closing of what we have glimpsed of the characters lives, and sometimes what appears to be going on in those may encompass challenge, pain, and/or loss.

I don’t want to give the impression that all the stories in Safe end poignantly—they don’t (from my perspective, anyway!). A few of them, as I see it, do. Personally, I understand the desire to read something I know is going to turn out a way that won’t likely elicit a challenging emotion in me. I have sought out that kind of work in the past and felt that way often. As an author, however, I also appreciate exploring what appears to me to authentically reflect the facets of human experience that come through me as I’m working. As I see it, that is one of the fundamental purposes of art.

Ultimately, the aspiration in me in writing every story in Safe was to explore and display the power of sexuality to heal, connect, awaken, and elicit growth. This is how I see the purpose and power of sexuality in life, and as an author of erotica, that is what I am aiming to write. Sometimes the result may seem uplifting, and sometimes it may seem painful. Sometimes, as in life, if we pay a particular level of attention, we may see both at once.


Blurb for Safe: a collection of erotic stories:
In this collection of ten erotic stories, attraction, heat, and connection serve as catalysts to take characters to places of climax, revelation, transformation, and abiding – sometimes all at once. From hypnotizing dreams to life-changing tragedies to moving on after the end of a relationship, Safe explores the power of sexuality in its myriad forms and manifestations.

“To Make It That Way” shows older woman Cole taking young Zack on a seductive and wild ride, exposing him not only to a considerable sexual education but to more subtle life lessons as well. “Power Over Power” channels the intense energy of a martial arts session, while “Hers to Keep” offers Leslie a surprising lesson in so-called “casual” sex.

Polyamory, masturbation, and BDSM all make appearances in <>Safe, as do scorching vanilla sex and budding romance. These stories reveal how eros has the power to bring us back to ourselves, propelling us ever deeper into the journeys of both sex and life.


Excerpt from “To Make It That Way” in Safe:

Cole’s eyes glinted. “Sex,” she said, “has the potential to encompass and represent all human experience. All the nuances, all the understood and not understood, may be experienced through sex. And that means there’s a whole realm of it we’re not going to understand. It’s beyond our common forms of understanding.” Her eyes bore into me like steel. “But it’s not beyond our experiencing.”

After a moment she broke her gaze, and I noticed I started breathing again. I also noticed my cock was rock-hard.

“The key,” she said, lifting her water glass from the end table near where we stood, “is in awareness, respect, openness, authenticity. We don’t have to understand it all, as long as we’re aware of ourselves. As long as we respect our partners. As long as we approach with openness what is happening between us. And as long as we are authentic in our dealings, our experiences, our examinations. If something is uncomfortable, examine that and see what it teaches you. If it feels inauthentic, stop doing it. ”

“That wouldn’t account for a lot of abusive situations where sex is concerned,” I countered. “Lots of people may think they’re aware of and like what they’re doing, but it hurts someone else or is even criminal.”

“Yes,” she agreed, setting her water glass back down. “But that means at least one of those pieces is missing.”

I pondered that, as she didn’t appear inclined to expound. She moved toward me and caught my mouth with hers, and I caught my breath at the suddenness, at the heat that zipped through me like lightning at her touch. She backed me up against the couch until I fell onto it, my hands groping her breasts. Pulling my cock out of my jeans, Cole dropped her head and sucked with fervor, going after my cock like she was possessed, as though she was taking something from it she needed.

With a final pump, she paused, running her tongue up the length of my shaft. Her cat-like eyes gazed up at me, hard lust and a hint of something else glowing in them. Abruptly she stood up on the couch, towering over me as she pulled off her shirt and stepped out of her jeans. Underneath them she wore an impeccable red lingerie set, glimmering bra, thong, and garter belt with rhinestones embedded around the rims and matching stockings. I caught my breath.

Cole didn’t need lingerie, but she sure knew how to use it.


SAFE BUY LINKS:
Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble

iBooks
Kobo
Scribd


Emerald safe2About Emerald:
Emerald is an erotic fiction author whose short stories have been featured or are forthcoming in anthologies published by Cleis Press, Mischief, Logical-Lust, and Sweetmeats Press. She is an advocate for sexual freedom, reproductive rights, and the rights of sex workers, and she serves as a Facebook group moderator and assistant newsletter editor for Marketing for Romance Writers (MFRW). Her first single-author books, If…Then: a collection of erotic romance stories and Safe: a collection of erotic stories, are out now from 1001 Nights Press.

Emerald links:
Website: http://TheGreenLightDistrict.org
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/Emerald_theGLD
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/EmeraldAuthor
Google+: http://plus.google.com/+Emeraldauthor
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/652859.Emerald
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/author/emerald
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/EmeraldAuthor/

Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester: A Story of Power and Class in the Edwardian Country House

tourbutton_fiftyshadesofgreenMy story in Fifty Shades of Green, “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Walled Garden,” gets its inspiration from the English landed gentry and their country house.

At the basic level walled gardens are a common feature of the English country house, though they are rather more traditional in their choice of rose gardens and formal flower beds than Lady Sally’s more risqué version with its poisonous and prickly plants. It struck me that a walled garden would make a great setting for a BDSM gardening story because it’s an enclosed area offering privacy where somebody could get away with anything, as Lady Sally does in the story!

There is also a genre of writing, both novels and screenplays for film and television, associated with the Edwardian country house. Why the Edwardian period in particular? Well, readers have the hindsight the characters cannot possess because they know a generation of husbands, brothers and sons are about to get slaughtered in the trenches of the Somme and other First World War battlefields. This gives the period an added poignancy. It also means the Edwardian period was the last hurrah for the English aristocracy. Ok, it may have taken many more years before we finally shook off our fore-lock tugging submission to the landed gentry but after the First World War things could never quite be the same again for the aristocracy.

So, into this world steps my character, the strict dominatrix Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester (the name is an amalgamation of two real East Yorkshire landed families). On one level the story is pure kinky fun in which my over-the-top kick-ass dominatrix reinvents her walled garden as an outdoor play area to punish her submissive slaves.

But Lady Sally is also a parody of the country house genre and the behaviour of the aristocracy during perhaps the last period when they could get away with anything. She dominates, punishes, humiliates and screws her gardener, Jack Buckingham, just as the English aristocracy has screwed us for centuries. Yet, in a strange way, Jack is complicit in his submission and humiliation. He really wants it and rather enjoys being dominated, which I think mirrors our fascination for the aristocracy.

In a short comic scene in the story, Lady Sally gets excited about introducing a water feature into her garden and threatens to piss all over her gardener, which is pretty much what the ruling class has been doing to us, and still does—though it’s more likely to be a banker or global corporation these days doing the pissing.

Yes, of course the story is still written as a piece of kinky BDSM fun, but it’s also a story about power, both personal and class.

Lady Sally features in other short stories by me. “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Silk Merchant of Samarkand” appears in Beltane Fire (Xcite Books) and another story, “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Automaton Horse,” has been accepted for publication.

 

—Slave Nano

 

Excerpt from Fifty Shades of Green, “Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester and the Walled Garden”

Jack felt more comfortable now the conversation had turned to gardening, “What did you have in mind, your ladyship—formal flower beds, a rose garden, a vegetable garden, exotic fruits? There are lots of possibilities for a walled garden.”

“Ah, well, there you are, Mr. Buckingham, I do have some quite specific ideas for the space. Perhaps it would be easier to take a look and I can talk you through some of my plans.”

As they made their way to the walled garden they must have appeared a strange group, Jack Buckingham in his tweed jacket, waistcoat, silk cravat and bowler hat perched on his curly brown hair along with the transvestite French maid and, leading the way, the formidable figure of Lady Sally, her hour-glass figure restrained in skin-tight rubber.

She unlocked the door in the wall and opened it.  The garden was in a sorry state. Jack reflected that it would take a lot of work to clear before he could even begin any planting. But it was an excellent space and he could see it had enormous potential.

“The plans, Victoria,” ordered Lady Sally, at which command her maid produced a roll of papers from within her petticoats.

Lady Sally laid them out on a tree stump and began to expound, pointing to her sketches.

“In this corner here I want colour. I thought some foxgloves against the back of the wall here, probably in purple and then some oleander in clusters of red, pink and white just here. And a laburnum tree in the corner there.  And I want some deadly nightshade. I simply love belladonna and its black berries, dark as night, just like me!”

Jack laughed, “You’d best be careful, Lady Sally—all of those plants are poisonous.”

“Oh yes, of course, I know that!”

“You want them to be poisonous?”

“Absolutely. I understand digesting small quantities can increase the heart rate and some even have hallucinogenic qualities. Do you have any further suggestions, Mr. Buckingham?”

The gardener was a little taken aback but fortunately knew something about which flowers had poisonous qualities, “Well, narcissus would be good or lily of the valley and chrysanthemum. But you have to be careful with chrysanths because even touching them can cause itching and irritation.”

“Really, how fascinating. Well, I simply must have some chrysanthemum then . . . some orange and yellow will be good too.”

Jack was intrigued and not a little alarmed at Lady Sally’s predilections.

“Here,” she said pointing along another length of the wall, “I want a willow tree and then some bamboo, cane and rattan.  Can you obtain some mature plants as I’ll want to use them straight away?”

“Use them?”

Lady Sally took up her whip, flexing it in her hands, and fixed him in the eye, silently conveying her intent for this area of the garden.

“Oh, I see, yes. Well, I should be able to get some mature ones.”

“Different sizes and flexibility? I’ll need them all to hand, you see.”

“Well, yes, I know an excellent market garden where I source anything rare or unusual. They’ve never let me down.”

“The mature tree in the centre of the lawn can stay but then I would like a small vegetable garden over there with carrots and courgettes.”

“Just those, wouldn’t you like more? I can lay out a proper vegetable garden for you.”

“No, that will suffice. I’m only looking for vegetables of a certain shape. And I want some chilli plants as well.”

“That’s not a problem, your ladyship. I can propagate them in a greenhouse and transfer the fully grown plants into your garden.”

“Excellent. Now, over here,” Lady Sally said gesturing toward another corner, “I don’t want to clear all of the nettles, you must leave a largish patch of them and the thistles too. And then what I’d really like is some giant hogweed against the wall, a holly bush and some poison ivy . . . but it must be poison ivy.”

“It’s not native to England, your ladyship, but I can find some and see if it’ll take. It causes a painful itch, though, and the sap from hogweed stings. I got some on my hand once and it really burnt.”

“Oh, excellent. I’m most pleased, Mr. Buckingham. You clearly know your plants and wildflowers. Just imagine when some of these come into contact with the most sensitive parts of the male anatomy.”

“You’ll certainly have your slaves squealing then,” chuckled Victoria.

“Indeed. Oh, just talking about it is making me excited. I’m so impatient now. I can hardly wait.”

“Sorry, Lady Sally, but do you mean to use all of these?”

“Why, yes, of course! Have you not realised, Mr. Buckingham, I want the walled garden for my outdoor play area. It will be my little garden of pain!”

 

Fifty Shades of GreenBlurb and buy links

Fifty Shades of Green is a garden of naughty delights!
Within our pages you’ll discover:
– Virile gods and their mortal conquests.
– A community garden’s secret (and very dirty) fertility ritual.
– An Edwardian dominatrix living out her sadistic garden fantasies.
– Student/teacher lessons in horticultural hotness.
– Young lovers seeking the help of green witches.
– A beautiful, blind priest who helps an injured traveler.
. . . and so much more.

Peek inside the garden gate.

(You know you want to.)

A dozen racy tales await.

Fifty Shades of Green is a collection of twelve delicious and erotic short stories with gardening themes. What you’ll find in these pages is hotter than the hottest pepper on the Scoville index of heat! And smart, not smutty. Well . . . maybe a little smutty.

 

To Buy Fifty Shades of Green (it’s on sale, just for you):

 

Amazon.com UK

Amazon.com US

 

Author Bio and Link

Slave Nano is a writer of erotic stories with dark and exotic content often drawing on the themes of female supremacy, BDSM and fetish, frequently in fantasy, paranormal or historical settings. His short stories and novellas have been published by Xcite Books, House of Erotica and in Smutters and Coming Together anthologies. His full-length erotic novel, Adventures in Fetishland, a bdsm/fetish reinvention of Alice in Wonderland, was published by Xcite Books in 2012. You can find out more about Slave Nano and his writing on his website at http://www.slavenano.co.uk

 

 

FREE Sample Stories!

 

To sample two free stories from Fifty Shades of Green visit our Garden Shorts website.

 

If you sign up for our newsletter you will be sent “Seed” (our sexy story about a community garden’s secret fertility ritual).

 

To read “Phallus Impudicus,” (a tale about the horny god Pan’s visit with a lonely gardener) just click on the Fifty Shades SAMPLE! tab

 

 

The Word I Just Can’t Say …

Writing imagePerhaps there’s something wrong with my mouth, the way my tongue touches the hard palate, or the way my lips purse. Perhaps it’s a genetic defect, though I don’t recall either my father or my mother having the problem. But then again it could have skipped a generation, I suppose. Maybe my mother dropped me on my head when I was a baby …

On the other hand, it could be some sort of psychological problem. Maybe I need to seek help. Maybe Freud would say I got stuck in one of the early stages of childhood development … oral? … anal? (Oh knock it off! I can see where your naughty minds are going with that one ☺) Possibly there’s a 12-step group that deals with my problem, or maybe there are psychologists who specialize in my particular affliction.

Note to self: Check online for self-help books on topic.

Well, it’s no good speculating when the damage is done. I suppose now all I can really do is treat the symptoms — the waking up in the middle of the night with my heart racing, the excess drinking of coffee, the panic attacks when I sit down at my laptop to work in the morning and realize just how much I have to accomplish that day, the associated inability to do housework, my inclination to hide out for days with no companionship other than my laptop.

I have a sneaking suspicion that my affliction is common among writers, though when I’m suffering from a particularly bad bout, I feel like I’m the only one in the world who just can’t do it.

I feel like I’m the only one in the world who just can’t say NO!

Oh, believe me, I’ve tried, but I break out in a cold sweat of fear that this might just be the one time when I absolutely, under no circumstances, should refuse the possibility that this could be the best opportunity ever. So I say YES!

http://www.dreamstime.com/royalty-free-stock-photos-birthday-background-party-streamers-confe-colorful-balloons-design-childrens-design-kids-image35629278The way I see it in my fevered little mind, saying no shuts doors. Saying no means that whatever might have resulted from the simple uttering of the YES word, whatever adventures I might have had, I’ve just refused with a simple two-letter word. I’m a firm believer that the more doors we walk through, the more doors are opened to us. That’s all positive, that’s all a good thing, but just how many doors can one person walk through before they become a twitching, neurotic heap, hunching bleary-eyed over their laptop? … er … wait a minute. Why does that sound so familiar?

I suppose as NaNoWriMo is now well and truly upon us, there’ll be a lot of people wondering if they should have said no. Maybe it’s a Pavlovian thing. Yes means possibilities. Yes means new opportunities. No means the doors are shut to those possibilities. Saying yes generates a sense of excitement, a sense of anticipation of new adventures, of new plots and new characters. But doesn’t saying NO also open the door to other, different possibilities? Saying no means that I could actually have time to give my house a proper cleaning. Saying no means I might have time to do girlie things like shopping for pretty stuff and practical stuff I’ve put off shopping for because I said YES too many times. Saying no means I could do some much-needed redecorating and renovating. Saying no means I might have time to take up a new hobby, to take an online course, to learn to speak Italian …

But to me, saying no means feeling lazy and unproductive. OK, I get that those feelings are just a part of my inherently neurotic self, but I feel them nonetheless. And if I’m honest, I can’t neglect that the doors that saying NO would open are often doors that I’m a little bit scared to walk through. Better the devil you know … Instead, I say YES, and I feel the exuberant panic that’s a cross between jumping up and down and punching my fist in the air in triumph and excitement and banging my head on the desk in the cold sweat of fear as I moan, ‘Ohmygod! What have I done?!?!?!’

the screamI’m in that scary exciting, run away screaming, writing like a madwoman against tight deadlines space at the moment. Grace Marshall is frantically writing Interviewing Wade to come out in February. KD Grace is butting in to write her first ever M/M novella, which just also happens to be her
first ever vampire story. To Rome with Lust is less than a month from its release date, with a two-week blog tour hard on its heels – posts still to be written … I’m right in the middle of the Lakeland Witches blog tour, and there’s a tongue-in-cheek billionaire novella waiting in the wings. All this in the midst of feeling bereaved that Demon Interrupted had now had its online HEA, and I’ll miss writing sexy, romantic stories for you on my blog. Do I dare say YES to another serial??? *Twitch, shiver, anticipate*

I’ll admit my reasons for sharing my NO-rosis with you are a bit mercenary. I needed a blog post for today and I couldn’t say NO! Also, I’ve read that it helps to talk about our neuroses. Isn’t that the first step to recovery? Doesn’t that mean I might be more likely to say NO next time???

… No, not really?

Didn’t think so …