Liz Everly's Blog, page 128

Keeping Myself A-Mused

The Muse demands a sacrifice.

By Alexa Day

My Muse has been on a roll lately. Projects are in motion, notes are flowing, and I actually submitted something a few days ago. I couldn’t be more pleased with the guy.

By the time you read this, I will be off giving him a reward: our very first Bloody Mary and some people-watching at a popular bar. I’m already a little excited about it. It’ll take some of the time I should be investing in my tax return, but it’s important. Unfortunately, I had to discover the hard way that creative playtime is more important than creative work time.

After Illicit Impulse came out a little over a year ago, my life descended into chaos, and not in a sexy way. Let’s just say shelter was the only thing I was certain of, and that’s because my landlady is a friend. During this time, while I was trying to get my book the visibility it loves so much, I spread myself pretty thin, and long story short, my Muse got the shaft (and not in a sexy way, heyo!). I knew I had to be working, but I couldn’t scrape together enough creative spark to get anything useful on the page.

When 2014 arrived, I had done little to deserve my Muse’s attention. I needed him, but all I could get from him was eye-rolling and some worn-out sounding prose.

Then came Metallica.

I was in my car, trying to cram 45 minutes worth of food into a 30-minute lunch interval when the Muse started to rock out to a Metallica four-play. When the Muse is rocking, I see little flickery snippets of story, and he was showing me some good stuff that afternoon in the parking lot. Then the music was over, and he was back to eye-rolling.

I asked what he needed. Yeah, passersby could see me. Those people are used to seeing me talk to myself, I hope.

The Muse wanted a beer. That night.

I started to make an excuse and got more eye-rolling. Okay. That night it was.

So I took the Muse to a bar, and I got him a beer and myself a burger. Before long I was hearing some absolutely filthy dialogue. The Muse loves his India Pale Ale, and I put that dialogue to work as soon as I got home. Everybody won.

Now I know the Muse needs to play from time to time. I also know I can’t keep drinking like this. Not only is it a horrible cliche, it’s expensive and time-consuming, and the work suffers when I’m hung over.

Just the thought of this is enough to overstimulate my Muse.

Instead, I’ve broken the creative playtime options down into a few different categories. If I need to get back in touch with my senses, I might go for a long drive, windows down and music turned up, bound for the mountains or the beach. I’ll try a new recipe with new ingredients. I’ll photograph the flowers emerging throughout the neighborhood.

If I need to be around people, I’ll arrange for a girls’ night or hit happy hour or drag my introverted self to a party. And for the more … illicit stuff, there’s always the neighborhood strip club. Alas, we only have one male revue here in this one-horse town, but I’m committed to keeping it in business.

If I need a quick fix, I’ll pull out the crayons or head down to the museum or settle in with someone else’s poetry. Or I’ll read outside my chosen genre. Reading James Dickey’s Deliverance has been pure Muse candy; I could read his description of the Southern road trip (before the unpleasantness) every night like a prayer.

After playtime is over, I’m ready to get back under the keyboard and really have some fun. It’s so refreshing to write like the craft is new, without pressure, without concern for the business, with freedom and joy. And I get more done, too. Everyone wins, right?

So it’s best for everyone involved if I have that Bloody Mary. Now I just have to figure out how to make it and all those singles from the strip club tax deductible.

Follow Lady Smut. We’ll get those creative juices (and the Bloody Mary mix) flowing.

Sexy Saturday Round Up

Hey sex kittens!  Liz is off visiting a magical kingdom this week, but the rest of us are here to deliver to you the best the newest the most tightly laced news in romance land.  Enjoy!

From Madeline:

Ladies–ready to take over Wikipedia?

The humiliation of a wine delivery guy who was raped in Romania. —Wait! They deliver wine to your home in Romania?

What’s the what when a gay man is attracted to women?

Can men and women be ‘just friends?’ Yes, but keep things in check.  Here’s what to do if flirting gets out of hand with your best buddy.

Does your va-jay-jay need a little Vitamin D? I know mine does.

From Elizabeth:

This kinda weird, kinda fun geeky quiz tells you what kind of person you are.

A black man who’s never dated a black woman? Insightful article from the black woman who was his first.

Hmmm, see if you agree with this. The top 10 sexiest accents in the world.

Think you’re faking it successfully in bed? Not so fast . . .

Ummm, I can think of some unusual places to have sex, but next to a dumpster isn’t one of them.

From C. Margery Kempe:

RIP, Sue Townsend

Disability Studies Reads the Romance

Jane Friedman’s Complete Guide to Query Letters

 (if you’re going to the Pop Culture Conference)

 

How to Write a Book Review

by C. Margery Kempe

I’m always surprised to hear people say they really liked a book but were reluctant to write a review because ‘I didn’t know what to write.’ Those of us who write for a living can easily forget how intimidating the process can be for folks used to diving into the joy of the words from the other side.

The truth is, however, that our work only gets found by the grace of those who enjoy it and say so. Your voice, reader, matters so very much. It needn’t be much of a burden either if you keep it simple.

Let me use the Amazon template as a model to demonstrate this:

First, they ask for a title. The best title is one that sums up the gist of your reaction as you’d give to a friend or co-worker. ‘It was a hoot!’ Or ‘This one made me cry’ or ‘so hot my windows steamed up!’ A first impression of some kind makes a good title.

Next the rating: five stars means you really enjoyed yourself reading this. It doesn’t have to be perfect (what book is?) but really hitting the high points. A four perhaps signifies a more problematic issue, though not one that takes away the enjoyment much. Sometimes four star reviews are the most insightful for the writer.

Three stars means it was a mixed bag: be sure to say what you liked as well as what you had problems with. More information helps other potential readers (and the author) know where it fell down in your expectations.

Your mileage may vary, but I don’t bother with two or one star reviews unless I have been asked to review a book and can’t get out of it. If a book warrants so little, why bother finishing it? Life’s too short to read bad books.

The review itself will flow from the choice of the title and your decision on the ranking. Other things might include why you chose it (friend or blogger recommended it, or maybe the cover art piqued your interest, or you won it in a contest), whether you regularly read in the genre, or any other context for your reading experience. We all have expectations when we pick up a book. If you’re a regular reader in a genre, you have different expectations than someone new to it.

Amazon only asks for a minimum of 25 words for reviews. That’s a fairly low bar to hurdle, even if you start out hesitantly. It’s easy to copy and paste reviews to Goodreads or LibraryThing, too. The more reviews there are of a book, the better chance people have of finding stories they’ll love.

Bookstores are closing, there are fewer professional reviewers — where will we get recommendations if the real readers don’t step up? Readers and writers will thank you for your efforts!

Be sure to follow the Lady Smut crew — we keep you up to date on what’s sexy (reading is always sexy).

Warlock Masters: Ow, ow, ow!

by Madeline Iva

Here’s the short version: Warlock Masters by Domingo Rhodes is packed with amazing descriptive language, is big on hard core gay masochism and short on paranormal/fantasy.  Buy it here.

Long version: Brace yourselves, ladies, because there is some really explicit stuff below.  Super explicit.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

So, I have an acquaintance who is a straight guy DJ around town. He has a regular gig at this gay bar where with some frequency the drunken gay guys—thinking he too was gay–would hit on him.

 What was that like? I asked, all agog and thinking here was some research I could maybe use one day.

“Aggressive. Guys slamming me against a wall. I mean, I’d almost have to fight a guy off. For real. Feel all jittery afterwards. I feel sorry for women now, having to put up with that kind of thing.”

And guys like this stuff? Well, I guess they do.

At least some do. Step into another world for a minute, as we explore WARLOCK MASTERS.

“They could hear him grunt, that mean grunt he likes to do that says I’m gonna hurt that hole, Bitch you gonna know I been in you,”

To which I say: Ow!

One time in college I asked my queer gal pal:

Why if you like girls do you like a girl dressed up as a cute boy? Why not just like cute boys? I’m confused… 

And she said a girl dressing up as a guy was transgressive. What she was attracted to was a women who was transgressive, thus she was attracted to women dressed as a cute guy but not cute guys themselves.

Okay—so I’m thinking maybe this rape-y talk, you know, (my white liberal guilt is talking here) maybe this is being transgressive in ethnic-y gay world? Yes? Like they like guys to talk that way, but maybe not actually hurt their hole???????

(And for more evidence of our love of this transgressive submissive stuff– See Elizabeth Shore’s post on The Ultimate Down & Dirty Bromance–Why Ladies Love Gay Porn.)

So combine the aggressive sexual thing with the transgressive gay thing and put it in a book…and I’ll still say “Ow, ow, ow!”

I couldn’t help it.  I mean, I’ve been thinking for awhile about writing a post on butt sex. Something with more butt positivity and a less waving of hands like they have had on Dear Author here here here here and here.

My understanding of anal sex in the real world is that some women do and some women Definitely Do Not. Guys seem much less wired up about the topic.

The erotic romance/romance world seems mostly full of women who are not up for back-door sex. In the way that once upon a time having sex before marriage signified something, and then giving bj’s signified something–there always seems to be this dividing line between ‘good’ girls and ‘dirty’ girls.  Anal sex has perhaps become that dividing line in our modern age.

Good girls do not have anal intercourse. Nor do they really understand why anyone else would want to.

Which is interesting if you think about it, because:

A)  Everyone knows that M/M romance is a strong seller in erotic romance. I assume, meanwhile, almost all m/m romances include at some point some anal intercourse.

B)   Meanwhile, good girls (well, women) are often pro-gay. Gay men have anal intercourse—and they like having anal intercourse. So why do I almost never get the feeling that good girl women are like “Why-oh-why would my gay friend ever ever want to do THAT?”

Well, at any rate, Warlock Masters is never going to convert any butt-shy romance lovin’ ladies out there into trying a little back-door fun.

Yet certainly, the use of literary language is transgressive:

“…a bottom boy’s ass, promising succulence, melon ripeness, pungent odors trapped in a deep dark trench which beckons the passionate parting and the loving attention of a sedulous tongue.”

Wow! And it’s like that all the way through– that velvety language cushions the harsher thrusts to the narrator’s bum, which is even at one point called his ‘pussy’.  These stories just don’t pull any punches. There is plenty of, um, porn-masochistic-ish action going on here:

“…and before I knew it Trajan had yanked his dick out hard, making my hole sigh and spasm up a ream of his cum, and he’d lifted himself up on his knees on the bed, said weight release allowing me to turn and raise my head just enough (despite exhaustion and the still reverberant echoes of intensely pleasurable pain from being so masterfully fucked down like the whore I am)”

—At this point my eyes are almost popping out of my head–

“…to espy a long, well-muscled and heavily hairy white torso beside me, and even furrier trunk legs with a half-hard left-leaning thicker-near-the- head baton of a pink uncut dick that—blink and it happened—let loose with a few hard sprizzles followed by a stream right at my face. 

Yes: The bottom boy was me, and all that I really got to see was Andre Metzelder’s thighs, flat stomach and glorious forest of a treasure trail (being more or less hairless, you see, j’adore les poilus), though I wish I’d seen more. Trajan was right, though: I was a slave and he was fucking me just the way I liked it (hard/fast/hot load in my chute). Piss I wasn’t necessarily so into, not in and of itself at least; but nothing makes me happier than big handsome dicks on handsome men, and therefore I pretty much groove on whatever happens to be coming out of said dicks at a given time.

“Open up, bitch,” Karim sort of whispered, but with just enough meanness to give me an instant erection (not having been at all able to maintain one with Trajan’s monstrosity lodged in my rectum).

So began a lovely lovely summer, my own summer of love.”

Ow. Very ethnic guys talking about being slaves. Ow.

At the same time Rhodes is alternating phrases like ‘open up, bitch’ with j’adore les poilus. I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed whimsical French phrases tossed off in erotica before. I gotta love it, even while I’m scratching my head.

The magic stuff is there in these stories, but it’s always thrown in as a bit of an afterthought.  A few stingy chocolate sprinkles on one fu**** up cupcake. It’s not really paranormal the way you and I know paranormal. Just sayin’.

The last eye-crossing shock appeal in reading Warlock Masters is that it has a quote by Samuel R. Delany. If you’re not a total sci-fi geek (guilty) the name might only sound vaguely familiar to you. But having Samuel R. Delany review this book is like showing up at your hair salon to discover that Gisele Bundchen is the one who’s going to cut your hair. You feel kind of faint at the same time that you’re saying to yourself, “Wait a minute—what does Gisele know about cutting hair?”

I’m Samuel R. Delany, and I endorsed this guy-smut.

Here’s what Samuel (Chip to his friends) has to say about Warlock Masters:

“Four wonderful inventive tales, as only Domingo Rhodes could write them, that appeal to the darkness within us all.”

Okay, then. I say these stories are written by/for someone who’s gay, by/for someone who likes guys all the colors of a café au lait rainbow (really the descriptions of guys—their junk and their legs mostly–is the best part,) and by someone who can write like the dickens.

And this made me start thinking about Chip Delany who writes long amazing descriptions himself, using quite orgasmic language, who’s gay and black and doesn’t pull any punches in his speculative fiction series. (Let’s just say that if you relish the harsh world of Game of Thrones, you’d be happy reading his Return to Nevèrÿon series.) Does anyone want to start a conspiracy theory and say Domingo Rhodes is actually the pen name of a bearded famous author?

Chip if you’re out there reading this post, please think about following our blog. You too reader. Just push that little follow button to get yer ever lovin’ Lady Smut, seven days a week.

Wanna Be A Liberated Woman? Wear A Corset!

By Elizabeth Shore

I came across an interesting article on the web the other day that I imagine caused a fair measure of teeth gnashing among the forward-thinking female population who read it. The story was about a woman, Sarah Chrisman, who received a corset from her husband. After some initial reluctance about wearing it, she decided to give it a courteous try. It was a gift, after all. But, surprise surprise. Not only did she not hate it and not feel repressed in it, she actually loved it SO MUCH that she wears it all day, sleeps in it all night, and even wrote a book about it. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

To be clear, we’re not talking about the kind of wimpy little corset you can buy as a Halloween costume or in a lingerie shop. We’re talking about full-blown, tightly laced, steel-ribbed constructed garments that will hold you tighter than a miser holds money. I know what some of you are thinking. Is she crazy?! Why would she willingly subject herself to that kind of pain and discomfort? The simple answer, according to Ms. Chrisman, is that nothing ever did more for her confidence, self-esteem, and personal empowerment than wearing a corset.

Personal empowerment? Yes indeedy. The garment’s rigid construction naturally lends itself to giving the wearer straighter posture. Sarah Chrisman says that when she’s got her corset on (which, apparently, is all the time), she doesn’t slouch, she walks erect, and she keeps her chin held high. She feels like a strong, liberated woman. And a skinny one! Upon lacing up, her waist size immediately plummets by two. You can see this rather alarming transformation in the before and after picture here.

Hmmn. I have to confess that I’m a bit intrigued. Ms. Chrisman’s opinion is that when she puts on her corset she feels “sensual.” Honestly, that’s not a bad way to be, right? I’ll admit – at the risk of TMI – that I can relate. I spend far more than I should on panties and bras, but it’s because –  similar to what Sarah Chrisman says –  wearing them changes my whole demeanor. I feel pretty and feminine, which is soooo not the experience I’d get by slapping on a pair of granny panties and a tattered bra. Egad! And hey, if the $6.6 billion in sales last year at Victoria’s Secret is any indication, there are others who feel the same as I do.

Still, I’m not entirely sold and the corset has its detractors. There were a number of comments posted on the article I read from readers (presumably women) who were not as enamored with the idea of corset wearing as Ms. Chrisman. People expressed fears of corsets doing permanent damage to the ribs and back. One commenter posted a link to an article about x-rays showing definitive proof of corset damage to Victorian-era women’s bodies. There are also those expressing outrage over the “subversive” nature of the garment itself. To be honest, here’s where the argument gets a little wonky for me. Do women feel more subverted wearing a corset than, say, sky-high heels? Super tight pencil skirts? Are we any less restricted in those garments, especially since, nowadays, we can choose whether or not we want to wear them at all?

There are some out there who argue that corsets and other “erotic” garments don’t actually symbolize the wearer being controlled but instead puts her firmly in the dominant spot. She exudes power when donning overtly sensual garments. Art history professor David Kunzle makes the case in his book, Fetishism: Corsets, Tight-Lacing and Other Forms of Body-Sculpture, that in Victorian times many viewed the corset as a “scandalous threat to the social order.” Oh my.

Ms. Chrisman has taken her love of wearing a corset to a whole other level by adorning herself in full Victorian-era clothing, from the dresses to the shoes to the hats, with her corset always firmly intact. It’s a nice way to have the look of a tiny waist, but as for me, I think my pj’s are calling.

 

 

 

 

BDSM Cruises, Anyone? Check out Pandora’s Box!

By Liz Everly

If you’ve been a follower of Lady Smut, you know we have some regular commenters. Skye Michaels is one of them. She’s another erotic romance writer—in fact, she’s been writing a long time and has a list of published books to her credit. So I read one of her books, Pandora’s Box, and asked her some questions about it.

First, feast your eyes on these fantastic cover:

 

After reading Pandora’s Box, I’m definitely going to check out the books in her first series that have lead up to this book. “The Le Club “ series takes one couples story in each book. And the couples continue to make appearances in this series (Golden Dolphin). Sometimes writer’s just can’t get enough of  certain characters.

Pandora’s Box focuses on a young photographer, Pandora Wescott, avenging her sister’s suicide, after finding a note saying she couldn’t live without  her “Master.” She also finds troubling photos—showing that her sister had been in an extreme BDSM lifestyle.

Here’s some of our chat:

Liz: I thought your set up was interesting–the way Pandora is exploring her sister’s lifestyle because she wants answers about her death. She is very much a newbie and uncomfortable at times. What kind of research did you do? (I had to ask this, right? )

Skye: I have done a lot of reading about BDSM and find the relationship dynamics fascinating myself. Every relationship is different. Each couple works out what is comfortable (or uncomfortable LOL) for them.    One excellent resource for those who are interested is Mike Makai’s book, Domination & Submission (available on Amazon). Mike also has a Facebook page. Would I try BDSM? I don’t know for sure. Maybe in the right circumstances—but that goes for everyone. It would have to be the right circumstances. We all have our fantasies, and sometimes it’s fun to explore new ones.

When I’m writing, I put myself in my heroine’s place. How would I feel if confronted with the inexplicable death of a beloved older sister who seemed to have it all, was my mentor, and then killed herself? Pandora is confronted with some new and uncomfortable lifestyle changes and haunted by her sister’s death while falling in love with the mysterious neurosurgeon, John Grayson.

Liz: The aspect of the book really sucked me in was that Pandora really didn’t know much about her  sister. I think about this kind of thing a lot: how much do we know about our neighbors, our friends, our family? You skillfully weave Pandora’s discoveries about her sister into a clever plot. She finds out about a cruise her sister had taken with her Master—a luxury yacht providing the venue for BDSM. She signs up and learns all abut the lifestyle. Are there BDSM cruises???? I know the one in the book was a privately owned cruise–but it set my imagination wandering…

Skye: I have no idea if there are actually BDSM cruises—sounds like a good idea to me! There certainly are BDSM clubs. My daughter came up with the idea of using cruises as a background for the stories when I had come to the logical end of the Le Club Series which was set in glamorous Ocala, Florida and the horse world and consisted of six books. Once I had explored the Kentucky Derby (Madison’s Choice) and the Triple Crown (Belinda’s Crown), it seemed like a good time to spin off to a new local.   Now we can go anywhere. Since the yacht was purchased by one of my Le Club characters (Jamie Devereau from Anne’s Courage), I can occasionally bring some of my favorite couples back for a cruise on the Golden Dolphin. Three of the original couples made the Alaskan cruise, and it was fun to see them again. When you love your characters, it’s hard to let them go. I got a little depressed when Le Club was done and I thought I would have to say a permanent good-bye.

Liz: So these couples on the cruise were in your other series. Tell us a bit about that series.

Skye: Many people may not be familiar with the small central Florida city of Ocala. It is just plain gorgeous. It has rolling green hills, millions of trees (not even a close to accurate count), and hundreds of thoroughbred farms. You drive down the winding two-lane roads and see pastures with frolicking foals or pregnant mares playing under live oak trees draped with Spanish moss.  Most of the bigger farms have their own full-size practice race tracks, and if you get up really early, you can see the horses running on the tracks in the early morning mist. The Ocala thoroughbred industry rivals Kentucky. Cigar and Foolish Pleasure were both born not too far from my weekend home there.Each book centers around a new couple, and the couples in the series are all different types of people. The women are professional and talented but have some issues. Not all are perfect Victoria’s Secret models. The men are rich and handsome (this is erotic romance after all) and have some issues of their own.   The friendships, relationships and rivalries between the characters flow through all the books.These stories are all set against a BDSM background, but first and foremost, they are hot and spicy love stories.

Liz: I loved your descriptions of Alaska–have you been? I noticed that a lot of your writing is set in exotic places. Any reason?

Skye: The exotic locations give me a chance to take myself and my readers to fun, exotic places. I have been to some of them but not all.   Alaska is on my bucket list to be sure. Fortunately, my best friend and her husband went on an Alaskan cruise while I was writing Pandora’s Box, and they brought me tons of material that they had collected on their trip.

The next book in the Golden Dolphin Series, Hannalore’s Treasure, picks up after the Alaska cruise and goes from San Francisco down the West Coast to Guatemala where our H/h have an adventure in a Mayan cenote or sacrificial sink hole in the jungle. I enjoyed the research for the historical scenes about Mayan ritual sacrifice. That book is coming out in May on Bookstrand.com (and then to Amazon.com etc. after six weeks).

Liz: Tell us more about what’s next for you.

Skye: I have started a new series, The Black Iris Club series set in South Florida, my own stomping grounds. We all take our own home areas for granted. I know people will enjoy visiting Fort Lauderdale and environs. Book 1, Kaylin’s Pursuit, and Book 2, Chloe’s Rescue, are coming out in May and June respectively on Bookstrand.com and following later on Amazon.com etc.   Kaylin is a Broward County Sheriff’s Office homicide detective, and Chloe is a vice detective. Both stories are exciting and set against a police work background.

A lot of people say they would love to write a romance novel.   All I can say to that is—do it.   It was my dream for years. If nothing else, you will have fun and can say you are writing a romance novel!   Start with character sketches and ideas for locations. Get something on paper or in the computer.   Write your fantasies down and go from there. I’m working on number fifteen and I’m having a ball. I hope you will all visit my fan page on Facebook, Skye Michaels Books, for first chapters and covers and a leave a like.   Thanks to Liz Everly and Lady Smut for this opportunity to meet you all!

Liz: Pleasure having you! Thanks so much Skye!

My final word on Pandora’s Box:

The classroom scenes were some of the most interesting in the book. One the one hand, the teachers are very professional and clinical in what they are teaching. On the other hand, sometimes the students are naked. And the couples break off to learn these BDSM methods.  Pandora, at first, is a little embarrassed, but catches on quickly and begins to fall for John Grayson— the Master Dom on board. Many complications arise and, while I don’t want to give away too much in the book—I will say he is as determined to make it work as she is. But their obstacles seem daunting and are serious.

For people interested in the BDSM scene, this book provides another glimpse into it. The characters are thoughtfully drawn, plot moves right along, and the sex scenes are fascinating. On the one level, there is this BDSM play through the book, but it doesn’t feel kinky to me because the characters felt very real. They have kids, they work on their relationships—it’s not all about the sex. Michaels has worked very hard, I think, to let us glimpse the everyday aspect of BDSM. At it’s heart, this book is a very romantic—albeit HAWT— love story.

A personal note: This week, I’m on tour promoting LIKE HONEY. Check out my schedule here and follow along to enter to win a $30 gift card from Amazon or B & N.

These Women of Westeros

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

I recently had a conversation with a friend about all the reasons why she would not enjoy watching Game of Thrones. Like much of adult America, I watched the season four debut last night. It’s one of the few shows I do watch live because I’m so keen not to have it spoiled for me by social media. But as I listed the baby killings and the incest and the beheadings and the rapes and the betrayals in an effort to spare my friend a show very much not for her, I found myself wondering—why the hell do I watch this show?

Well, it does have a fantastic, complicated layered story with twists I don’t see coming and it’s the rare show where I don’t see the turns broadcasted ahead of time. It’s helluva sexy too with a gorgeous cast and a nudity factor so infamous, it coined the phrase “sexposition” since so much exposition is shared during graphic sex scenes. The cast is also extremely talented and most of the great character actors from the British Isles have wanderer across the screen along with a host of European ones.

Ayra Stark

The world is rich and complicated with call backs to the Medieval era that are catnip to me. The characters are fully drawn so that overtly evil people can yet inspire sympathy while good characters often make me want to slap them upside the head for sheer stupidity that usually ends up getting them killed.

There’s much that is gruesome and brutal about Game of Thrones, no question. “When you play the game of thrones,” we’re told from the start, “you win or you die.” In depicting the reams and reams of characters and events that make up George R.R. Martin’s books, the show’s producers have spared no punches and gilded no lilies. There are great risks in these stories, great costs to claim and hold on to power, great prices for honor and mercy. The good people die too badly and the bad people remain past endurance…and then some.

Brienne of Tarth

But it bothers me how much overall the women are exploited…and how easily that’s accepted within and without the show. Most of the sexposition involves full frontal nude shots of nameless women extras playing maids or whores or tavern’s daughters. Women are especially victimized in Game of Thrones. Even allowing for the paternalistic parameters of the world, its levels of chauvinism are almost ridiculous. Just about every man on the show not named Stark is a rapist or a man whore. Even the awesome warrior woman Brienne of Tarth was nearly gang raped and wound up tossed into a bear pit for sport and ultimately rescued single-handedly by a weakened, malnourished man. And yet, some of the most powerful characters on the show are women. Cersei Lannister. Ayra Stark. Caitlin Stark. Brienne of Tarth. Khalessi, the Mother of Dragons. Actual dragons.

These women of Westeros are strong and powerful and above all, they endure. They are used, abused, manipulated, traded in marriage, murdered, deceived and deceive. One even gave birth to a mystical, murderous baby made of shadows. Oh yeah. You read that right.

Khalessi, the Mother of Dragons

About the time Daenerys Targaryen stepped from a bonfire with three baby dragons climbing her naked form, it became clear who really holds the power. I don’t know who wins the game, who survives to rule from the throne of swords, but I know who’ll be there to see it. Because it’s the women of Game of Thrones who change the world.

Follow Lady Smut. We change worlds every day.

Let’s Not Ruin This with Pictures: Why I Hate the After-Sex Selfie

I’d rather see your hernia surgery than your postcoital bliss, thanks.

By Alexa Day

I am not a prude.

Take a second and imagine me standing behind a podium saying that to you with my best Nixon-style finger-wagging. That was kind of cool, right?

But I’m really not a prude. I’ve been to Those Parties (the kitchen is the place to be, I think, unless there’s a pool). I fell asleep during Last Tango in Paris (butter-related shrieking awakened me). I helped train a male stripper a couple of Christmases ago (all about education, that’s Alexa Day in a nutshell).

I’m not a prude. But this after-sex selfie thing offends me. When I started hearing about it fairly recently, my knee-jerk response made me curious. So two people take a picture of themselves right after sex and then share it with the world via social media. So what? Why should that bother me so much?

I certainly don’t mind the various photos of other people’s social lives. Little glimpses into people’s personal lives are part of what makes social media great. I like checking out people’s cats and their libraries and their weddings. I love seeing photos of people’s meals; they’re very inspiring to someone who believes in the Power of Take-Out. And if you’re hanging out with me on Facebook, you know I love the pictures of the Naked Men. So generally speaking, I’m okay having a little peek into other people’s business.

Having said that, I’m not big on the dick pic, which is something of a mystery to me. I don’t understand the thought process that leads a man to send a picture of his junk to the object (or potential object) of his affection. And how does any of us know that the dick in question actually belongs to the sender? The frame never contains both heads. Still, the dick pic does not incense me as much as the after-sex selfie.

And I love Cindy Gallop’s Make Love Not Porn, which features videos of real people having sex in the effort to counteract porn as a leading source of sex education in America. Like Gallop, I’m also “pro-sex, pro-porn and pro-knowing the difference.” Yeah. So apparently, I’m okay with people having sex in front of the camera for the whole world to see, but the after-sex selfie really offends me. What’s up with that?

How about you keep that on the nightstand?

After a good deal of quasi-rational thought, I think I figured out what my problem is.

The after-sex selfie isn’t just an illicit glimpse into someone else’s business. It isn’t like posting a picture of a meal or a wedding or even a baby. It’s not even really about the sex. The after-sex selfie is an affront to intimacy.

More than any other part of the sex act, the interval after sex is about intimacy. It’s the time and place for conversations, even among relative strangers, about each other or about themselves or about how they came to be in the same bed. It’s a place where decisions are made, where oxytocin starts to take hold and both parties allow it to do so, and where physical pleasure gives way to something more important. Intimacy is much more significant and much more rare than the sex act itself.

The after-sex selfie wants to share the intimacy between two people with the world at large. It cheapens this crucial moment between two people. By extension, it cheapens the sex act — as it exists here between two people not performing the act for others in the first place. That offends me.

I hope we’re about to see the end of this lamentable trend. I can close my eyes to the dick pic, and I’ve built my own relationship with pornography. But I’m not okay with devaluing intimacy. Let’s keep the after-sex to ourselves.

Follow Lady Smut. Because we are totally not going to take a picture of you right afterwards and broadcast it to the entire world.

Sexy Saturday Round-Up

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers.

Hello, Sexy! Welcome to Saturday. Kick back, relax, and read some very interesting blog post that we have personally selected for you, our readers. Ya know, just wanting to be at your service.

On a personal note, next week, I’m going to be blog touring with my new book, LIKE HONEY, and will be giving away a $30 gift card to Amazon. So check it out here.

From Liz:

Ten strangest sex laws in the  U.S.

Do writers need to go hybrid in order to earn better money?

What writers should do at a  reading. (Hint: not read.)

A great post by Hope Ramsey on using Scrivener for plotting.

From Elizabeth:

What’s it really like being a phone sex operator?

Have you secretly thought this, too? One woman’s take on why shower sex sucks.

Make your readers beg for more by telling your stories in a series.

What’s going on?! Suddenly, celebrity penises are everywhere.

Need a refresher on Game of Thrones as you prepare for Sunday’s season opener? Everything you need to know. Enjoy!

From Madeline:

Your weekly dose of unconventional beauty.

Yes, Virginia, you CAN die of a broken heart.

World’s most beautiful bookshops. As Liz Lemon would say: I want to go to there.

Bretons are out to discourage excessive kissing.

Wild Scotland

by C. Margery Kempe

In our celebration of Liz Everly’s tempting new Like Honey the LS crew have been waving rhapsodic about all things Scottish. Well, sort of. There’s a strange obsession about a kind of romantic Scotland in a lot of Americans. Somehow it by-passed me altogether. Don’t get me wrong: I love a man in a kilt. However, living in Scotland I know when you see a man in a kilt, look around for tourists or a wedding party, because that’s mostly where you see men in kilts.

;-)

I’m in Scotland (or rather, I will be back in a few days) because I fell for a Scotsman. He didn’t ride up on his horse, fully kilted from the Highlands. Not sure I would have been impressed by that. But I have been impressed by the incredible natural beauty of Scotland.

Loch Ness

Last October I stayed in Orkney for a wee while with friends, one of whom was studying pottery there. It’s a bit of a hike up there from Dundee — two trains, a ferry and then a car ride into the interior but it was completely worth it. The moon was high when I arrived and the night blustery, but my friends drove me to the Ring of Brodgar so it would be my first impression of the island. So worth it.

Ring of Brodgar

The visit filled me with inspiration, from the seaside town of Stromness to the mysteries of Maes Howe. I have a wonderful novel percolating on the back burner that came from looking out to sea from Skara Brae.

How could you not be inspired?

I want to spend more time in the Highlands, there are stories awaiting me, I just know it. And in the mean time, I live in a city with a dragon. What could be more magical?

The Dundee dragon

Satisfy your hunger with a copy of Like Honey. And don’t forget to follow Lady Smut for all your news.