Liz Everly's Blog, page 56

Oh Progress, You Elusive Beast

By Elizabeth Shore

You remember maybe six months or so ago, when actress Jennifer Lawrence spoke out about the gender pay disparity in Hollywood and how much less she and her female counterparts make compared with the guys? She wrote an impactful essay about it, acknowledging that while the men with whom she worked negotiated powerful deals for themselves, she worried about being viewed as “spoiled” or “difficult” in similar situations so she, in her words, gave up on the negotiations too early. Lots of women spoke out in support, with actress Salma Hayek pointing out that the only place where women’s payscales outweigh the men’s is in porn. Oh joy.

What I hadn’t noticed until recently – because, frankly, I never read the whole essay until now – is that Lawrence also spoke out about the reaction she’s gotten when speaking her mind like a guy, i.e., straightforward, no BS. As an example, she’d once expressed her opinion in a straightforward manner to a man working for her and he reacted like she’d been screaming at the top of her lungs. “Whoa! We’re all on the same team here,” he was reported as saying. As if she’d been looming over him with a blood dripping axe propped on her shoulder.

On the heels of that, a friend forwarded me an article the other day that had me vascillating between amusment and pissed-offness. In it, writer Alexandra Petri took famous quotes uttered by men and wrote them the way a working woman today would have to say them in a meeting in order not to appear bitchy or domineering. Here’s my favorite:

“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

Woman in a Meeting: “I have to say — I’m sorry — I have to say this. I don’t think we should be as scared of non-fear things as maybe we are? If that makes sense? Sorry, I feel like I’m rambling.”

I’m both smiling and cringing because I really can relate. I’ve been in so many work situations where I’m mindful of not wanting to come across like a bully to the point that I end up sounding like every ounce of my confidence has been stripped away and tossed in the trash. How can we make gender progress acting like waffling ninnies? So I don’t. And here’s what happened.

I’m actively looking for a new day job at the moment, so a couple of days ago I met with an executive search recruiter. A woman. She grills me on my resume, having me talk her through it for over an hour beginning with high school (!) up to present. After all that she says she’s going to “tell me something.” I figure she’ll hit me up with her opinion that I’m not right for the role she’s filling for her client. But surpise surprise, that’s not it. What she did want to tell me was something else entirely. She wanted me to dye my hair.

Yes, I desperately wish I was making this up. Except I’m not. What the recruiter specifically told me was that while I had all the skills and expertise the client wanted, and that I came across as very buttoned up, polished and professional, I was also too “hard.” Her exact words. I didn’t crack a smile, she said, and I should because “you have beautiful teeth!” The environment where this potential new role would be is easy going, so I need to smile more, wear light colors (her recommendation: white or peach), and I should also dye my hair, perhaps to a soft brown. But, ah, this is my actual hair color, I said, my confusion so pronounced I probably looked like I’d just bitten into a lemon. (Said hair color, by the way, is very dark brown). OK, responded recruiter, but it’s too harsh. In order for me to look “relaxed” (read: approachable), she recommended a light brown. What. The. F**k.

The entire exchange, frankly, was rather depressing. She’s a fellow XX chromosome, after all. Doesn’t she realize how inappropriately she’d behaved? Would have said this to a man? Hell no. If she truly viewed me as a professional career woman, all she needed to relay is that the culture where she’d like me to interview is laid back and casual and I should adjust accordingly. ‘Nuff said. I get it. But instead I felt like I were being prepped as arm candy for a wealthy businessman and being given style advice that suited his taste in escorts. Deflating to be sure. Where, oh where, is the progress we’ve been trying so hard to make?

In the end, my hair color will stay intact and I shall tell her so. And if I come across as bitchy? Well, I’m sorry, but I’m OK with that.

Elizabeth Shore writes both contemporary and historical erotic romance. Her releases include Hot Bayou Nights and The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires. Her newest book is an erotic historical novella, Desire Rising, from The Wild Rose Press.

 

 

 

 

Coming In Hot: The Movie Men in Uniform

One must know the classics to appreciate progress.

By Alexa Day

 

You know, I thought I’d have a big announcement to share with you all today, but it seems that we’ll all have to be on pins and needles just a while longer. In the meantime, I’m again faced with the wonderful question of what we can do to distract ourselves and each other until that special time arrives.

 

Well, I’m always good for settling down with a cold, summer-appropriate beverage to leer at the hot menfolk. When is that inappropriate? Never, I hope.

 

Today, I thought we’d focus on a specific theme. Today, I thought we could ogle hot men in uniform.

 

The military uniform is kind of a conundrum for me. Usually, when it comes to objectifying the gentlemen, my rule of thumb is “the less you have on, the happier I will be.” But something about the military uniform is working for me. Sure, I’ll be sharing some examples from the popular media, where smart, talented people will style a uniform to make everyone look super hot. I mean, I’m not even that into Channing Tatum, but he is making me reconsider Dear John.

 

Don’t you kind of want to mess up his very touchable hair?

 

I’ll probably never see Tom Mison in Sleepy Hollow again, so I had to give him a shoutout here. His usual long, tall look (accentuated by the devil’s trousers) is certainly pretty to look at, but I don’t mind the armored look even a little bit.

 

I’ll remember Ichabod fondly for making history hot.

Representing a future we can all hope for, Idris Elba as Stacker Pentecost in Pacific Rim proves that it takes a big dude to carry all those stars on his shoulders. Whatever he’s saying, I’m listening to.

 

Putting the ‘grr’ in gravitas, as usual.

Finally, Chris Evans looks like appropriate courtship material as Steve Rogers. Wouldn’t that be nice with some candlelight and a nice beverage? No matter what changes Captain America might be making in the comics, it’s good to see that Chris is kind of evergreen, right?

 

This fish out of water looks right at home here.

I hope I’ve left you with something to think about while I wait for my news flash. Few things pass the time so effectively as daydreaming, in my experience, and a military fantasy, something nice and wholesome and — dare I say? — patriotic, is an adventure you can feel great about.

Don’t forget your beverage.

Are you following Lady Smut? We can get you more than just a few good men.

His Name is Brock Allen Turner: This Week in Rape Culture

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

On Friday, Brock Allen Turner, convicted rapist on three felony charges: assault with intent to commit rape of an intoxicated/unconscious person, penetration of an intoxicated person, and penetration of an unconscious person–a conviction that brings with it a maximum sentence of 14 years–was sentenced to six months in a county jail followed by probation. The prosecutor recommended six years, but to avoid imposing a “severe impact” on the convicted rapist’s life–the convict rapist was, after all, an excellent swimmer on the Stanford swim team with visions of Olympic glory prior to raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster, a crime for which he was convicted–the judge agreed with the probationary officers six month recommendation.

But that wasn’t enough for convict rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner. Oh no. He wrote a letter denouncing this six-month sentence–a sentence that means his son, convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner, will be out on the street in a few weeks–claiming that this whole crime and punishment journey has been quite the ordeal for convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner. According to convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner, these days, convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner is no longer his former “happy-go-lucky” self. Among other hardships, convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s diminished appetite means convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner can no longer even enjoy a rib-eye steak. My, that *is* some severe impact for convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s “serious actions”–a phrase used by convict rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner, to describe the sexual assault his son perpetrated on an unconscious woman behind a dumpster in the middle of the night. According to convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner, “20 minutes of serious action” are not enough reason for his son, convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner to have his entire life destroyed. Convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner, appears to be quite okay with the fact that those 20 minutes of “serious action” were more than enough to already destroy the life of convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s victim. Apparently, her life doesn’t hold as much value as that of convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner.

“He has never been violent to anyone including his actions the night of January 17, 2015,” writes convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner. Note how convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner, takes pains to include the actions of his son on the night of January 17th as part of his son’s apparent lifelong policy of nonviolence. Because finger raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster is so *gentle* an “action”.

I was unaware until I read the statement made by convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner’s father, Dan Turner, that punishment for a crime depended on the amount of time it took to commit that crime, like say for a convicted rapist to commit that rape against his unconscious victim. Do murderers get to argue that since it took only a few seconds to shoot or knife or garrote or whatever their victims, that they should therefore not have the remainder of their lives seriously impacted by serving a prolonged sentence after being convicted for their crimes? No, they do not. Neither should convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner.

What if she were your daughter, sir? What if it was your daughter who had been raped behind a dumpster while unconscious not only with a man’s fingers, but with other foreign objects lying around her? What if it was your daughter whose worth was so marginalized that her convicted rapist could have the consequences of his actions impact his life as little as possible. What would you say then, sir?

“I don’t want my body anymore,” she said. “I wanted to take off my body like a jacket and leave it at the hospital with everything else.”

It’s a horror on top of tragedy to realize we’re now used to the fact that, in rape crime especially, the victim is the one on trial. Here, even after a unanimous conviction was declared against convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner, still it is the female victim whose pain and tragedy is being trivialized to defend a convicted rapist in order not to “severely impact” his life with a sentence that was already half of the maximum penalty. This mindset of our rape culture is so prevalent even the “respected” Washington Post seems to have taken careful pains with its headline for the story.

“You took away my worth”: A rape victim delivers “powerful” message to a former Stanford swimmer https://t.co/sw4KxFoo69

— Washington Post (@washingtonpost) June 5, 2016

Note the quotations around powerful implying her statement may not actually be that and how the woman is described as “rape victim”–her entire identity tied to the sexual crime perpetuated against her–while convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner is identified by his university affiliation and his swimming accomplishments, NOT by the crime he committed against the amazing woman who has endured more than some “severe impact” against her life due to the criminal actions of one convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner.

I am angry. Angry for this inspiring, brave stranger, angry at a misogynist culture and justice system that thinks this laughable sentence for convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner is any kind of “justice.” Angry at the message it perpetuates to men–and particularly to college-aged men–that women are meat. That we hold little value. That our word is untrustworthy. That if we can’t audibly say no because we’re unconscious for whatever reason, then we lose all right to our bodies and ourselves and are fair game without consequence. That what we wear determines how we should be treated and/or whether we should be able to deny, or worse, be responsible for, a man’s sexual assault on our person. That even when a jury convicts a man of all three counts of sexual felony, that man may still skate relatively free with a trivial sentence so his life is not severely impacted for such little reason as this. I’m angry that it tells women that our bodies and our identities are worth less than a young man’s swimming times and Olympic potential.

These are the battles that have been waged and lost even after declaring victory. These are the warriors who have been defeated in their moments of triumph. This is the justice so many have seen slip through their fingers.

I’m angry–no, I’m infuriated–and, worse, I feel powerless–but I have a platform and I have a big voice and I will use it to call out these heinous people who hold a woman’s worth so cheaply. Don’t tell me we don’t live in a rape culture. Don’t tell me there isn’t a war against woman. Don’t you dare say to me not all men. I know my value. I know our value. The rest of the world will know it too.

I won’t try to summarize the powerful (yes, Washington Post, POWERFUL) words that this brave, brave lady stood up in a courtroom to deliver to convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner and his supporters after hearing that his conviction would result in less time spent in jail than it took to go to trial and convict him. I won’t detail how grievously her life was “impacted” or how little respect or value Judge Aaron Perksy and the probationary officer displayed for this courageous woman by refusing to give convicted rapist Brock Turner the sentence he was due. Instead, hear that courageous, inspirational lady speak through her own words in the statement she delivered to convicted rapist Brock Allen Turner at his sentencing. In yet another show of outstanding courage, she authorized BuzzFeed to publicize this statement–a post that has already receive more than four million views–so that other woman who have been raped and have found the courage to come forward and report their assaults (and those many, many others who haven’t) and even follow through through endless debasement and humiliation to see their rapists brought to trial and conviction only to have the rape culture that proliferates our society fail them yet again, so that those woman and more can know they are not alone. May her lighthouse shine here too on our platform so that others may see that light and follow it home.

Her statement is long. It will break your heart and it should. It is not a must read, but it must be read by everyone. She MUST be heard. It is only in this way that we have a prayer of ending this rape culture in which we women live every single day.

Shine on, brave lady. Shine on.

“To girls everywhere, I am with you. On nights when you feel alone, I am with you. When people doubt you or dismiss you, I am with you. I fought everyday for you. So never stop fighting, I believe you. As the author Anne Lamott once wrote, “Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.” Although I can’t save every boat, I hope that by speaking today, you absorbed a small amount of light, a small knowing that you can’t be silenced, a small satisfaction that justice was served, a small assurance that we are getting somewhere, and a big, big knowing that you are important, unquestionably, you are untouchable, you are beautiful, you are to be valued, respected, undeniably, every minute of every day, you are powerful and nobody can take that away from you. To girls everywhere, I am with you.“

 

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Writer, singer editor, traveler, tequila drinker, and cat herder, Kiersten Hallie Krum avoids pen names since keeping her multiple personalities straight is hard enough work. She writes smart, sharp, and sexy romantic suspense. Her debut romantic suspense novel   Wild on the Rocks  is now available. Visit her website at  www.kierstenkrum.com  and find her regularly over sharing on various social media via @kierstenkrum.

Servant of the Undead, erotic zombie horror free read part 4

By Isabelle Drake

It’s Sunday, here’s the next part of Servant of the Undead.  If you’re new to this serial, you can start with Part 1, “Do it.”

Part 4: “Every okay?”

Hatyden drove in, filling her just like he knew he would, and groaned. The tight walls of her core gripped him, squeezing his shaft, making it harder, bigger. She grabbed his shoulders and rocked against him, gliding her pussy up and down his cock, taking control.

Hayden bent lower, reaching for her free breast with his mouth, wanting to feel it inside his mouth. He found the nipple, but the mound was too full and her motions too frenzied, so he had to settle for licking the tip.

She grunted in response, her hips jerking as she rocked against him, taking his entire shaft inside her and pushing against his balls with each forward swing. His sac heated, his whole body t

ingled with fire. His cock was deep inside her, wrapped in her cunt, but the connection wasn’t enough. He lifted his mouth from her breast, seeking her lips. Just as he brushed his mouth against hers, she stiffened and groaned.

He pressed his mouth against her cool, wet lips. She sucked in a breath of sharp surprise, tried to kiss him back, but the spirals of release took possession of her body. She thrashed against him, forcing his hard cock deep inside her as her breathing turned into a series of short pants. Hayden pressed a kiss across her open lips, then let himself go, falling into his own explosive bliss. Tight piercing pleasure coiled through him as his own orgasm hit, hard and fast.

They clung to each other, their bodies recovering from the shared explosion.

“Thanks,” she said, after a pause, looking up at him from under her tangled locks. “I really needed that.” She started putting her clothes back together, adjusting the straps to cover her breasts.

Hayden laughed lightly as he gently pulled up his briefs and pants, trying not to brush against his cock that was still slightly erect. “You don’t need to say thanks. I wanted it.”

“Hey! Any

one in here?”

Shit. The security guard. Still zipping his pants, Hayden called out hello as he jogged through the darkness.

“You’re still in here, in the dark?” the guard looked past Hayden’s shoulder. “Everything okay?”

Hayden stepped closer, blocking his view. “I’m fine, just packing up, about to head home.”

The guard ran his flashlight beam around the room, but the small ray didn’t do much to light up the huge space. “Snow’s not letting up, just so you know.”

Trying to look casual, not like a guy who’d just had frantic sex, Hayden shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched his shoulders. “Good to know.”

“Stay safe, man.”

“Right. Thanks.” Hayden spun and headed back. She was gone. Probably climbed back out the window. Or climbed out of his freshly ignited imagination.

Hayden tapped his computer. The message to Bob Keeler popped up. He added a quick note about writing something about hot zombie sex rituals, attached the video of the library, and hit send. With a heavy thump, he dropped into the stiff chair and reached for the files. In a minute, he’d get everything pulled together and get going. That fresh stuff wasn’t going to appear out of nowhere.

*****

The vibrating

of his phone woke Hayden, and still half-asleep, he dug it out of his pocket and answered, his eyes still closed.

“Hayden. You are a genius.”

Struggling against a serious kink in his back, Hayden worked his way into a sitting position. “Thanks, Bob,” he said, even though he had no idea what the man was all worked up about.

“The film tie-in idea is awesome. Perfect. That attachment, good grief. Why didn’t you tell me you were a Photoshop wiz?”

Starting to actually wake up, Hayden looked around. The library? He’d fallen asleep at the table when he was supposed to be reading those damn zombie books. Shit. Hazy images of a wet girl with tangled hair and torn tights flashed in his mind. A smell. Mind-blowing sex. Holy shit. What a dream.

“Good thing Rachelle is the wild type. Most girls wouldn’t want pictures of their guy screwing some other girl, even a zombie, posted all over the net.”

Hayden snapped awake. “Posted?”

~~~

Want more? Part 5 will be here next Sunday. Or, you can come over to the Servant of the Undead Wattpad page and read more for free right now. Unfamiliar with Wattpad? It’s an online community for readers and writers. Its filled with free fiction of all kinds. It’s easy to log in and get started; you can use your Facebook account.

Until next time, follow Lady Smut, we’re always here to inform, entertain, and keep you up to date.

Isabelle Drake writes erotica, erotic romance, urban fantasy, and young adult thrillers. Best Friends Never, her newest release is the first in the Cherry Grove dark YA series.

 

Sexy Saturday Round Up

Is summer finally here? We’re all about hot skin, hot skies, and hot romance! Here are some fun, curious, and bizarre links for your weekend enjoyment.  Hope you’re out getting brunch and relaxing in the sun.

From Elizabeth Shore:

Ensuring your orgasm despite your man’s small penis.

I’ll take a double. Vodka made from San Francisco fog. Yes. Really.

Let’s hear it for equal opportunity sex! Number of U.S. adults having homosexual experiences has doubled since the 90’s.

So….is this a good idea? Panties that double as tampons.

Your man’s not around but you’re craving his package? Just have him Clone-A-Willy. Problem solved.

From G.G. Andrew:

Guy proposes using Super Mario. Nerd swoon!

Is bacon love? Nick Jonas sings so.

There’s now Key Lime Twinkies. Yay/nay?

From Madeline Iva:

File this under ‘ew’. Role playing with photos of other people’s children.

Jezebel sez: Here’s Why the Wage Gap Revolution Will Not Be Led by Millionaire Actresses

Astronomers crack the secret of Sappho’s poem.

Denmark no longer defines transgender as a mental illness.

Your ideal brothel? Sex workers weigh in.

A-hole judge puts public defender in handcuffs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Are You Doing the #ReadHotter Challenge?

by G.G. Andrew

Back in January, we introduced something fun for the year here at Lady Smut: the 2016 Read Hotter Challenge. The idea was simple: ten categories to expand your reading and bring more fun to your book binges.

It’s hard to believe, but the year is almost half over! (Cue wailing and gnashing of teeth.) I’ve taken my relationship with books to the next level by vowing to #ReadHotter; have you? Post in the comments and let us know what you’ve been reading if you have–or feel free to hop on this train for the rest of the year! The Read Hotter Challenge can be done in any order, at any time.

Here are some of the categories I’ve ticked off the list:

A romance set overseas

For this, I’ve recently read How to Fall by Rebecca Brooks. Set in Brazil, it’s the romance between an American teacher and an Australian screenwriter. And it’s hot. Brooks has a knack for good writing and developed characters, and she also brings the steam. (There’s a scene in a pool…and the back of a bus.)

A story with a hero with magical powers–and fingers

On St. Patrick’s Day, I read Paula Millhouse’s novella Three Wishes. The idea of the hero being a leprechaun interested me (Can leprechauns be hot? Turns out they can.), and this was a fun read with a unique premise.

A short, hot novella you read in one sitting.

Molly O’Keefe’s The Heart of It was my first time reading her, and I’m hooked. This story was short enough to read in a day, and took a tricky premise–a hero with a painful past trying to overcome it with an escort–and made it something very emotional and very sexy.

A love story set between 1900-1970

This past winter I read the novella A Midnight Clear by Emma Barry and Genevieve Turner. Set in 1940s Annapolis, this was a really romantic read, and a free story introduction to their space-race romances set in the 1960s.

That book about a guy you couldn’t bring home to your parents.

I’m about to start the second in Darynda Jones’s Charley Davidson series, Second Grave on the Left. I really enjoyed the first book in this series, and from it I know that the hero, Reyes, is also the son of Satan–which would probably get a strong NOPE from most parents and thus make this book an excellent fit for this category.

I’m halfway there!

For all of you reading at home: have you read any books that fit these categories, or others on the list? Comment here, and/or post on Twitter under the hashtag #ReadHotter and let us know which stories are heating up your reading life!

 

G.G. Andrew writes quirky romantic comedy–stories about people who fall in love with the most unlikely person, and who stumble through some awkward conversations and ill-advised kisses along the way. Her latest book is SCARY, LOVESICK, FOOLISH, a New Adult goth rom-com about a couple in love who find their relationship tested when they compete against each other in a horror festival.

 

 

 

 

I Forgot May was Masturbation Month

by Madeline Iva

May was masturbation month and I missed it.  Rats!  Yet isn’t every month masturbation month? That’s the whole point of May being masturbation month–encouraging women to take the plunge.

Stats say something like only 92% of younger women masturbate.  8% of you out there are really missing out.  Or you’re tired.  Or you’ve got kids crawling all over you and no privacy. Or…you’ve never tried it? I hope you’ve tried it.

I very distinctly remember the first time I tried because, (cue the sad music) I was 19 and I’d already had sex, but had never tried masturbating.  My friend, noting my bitchy, intense behavior in general–as well as the fact that my boyfriend was gone for the summer–decided to tell me about how *she* had tried masturbating for the first time, how it took a while at first, but the books/articles/whatever it was she found had recommended not giving up, and finally she was successful.  And now she lurved it.  So I tried. Thanks friend! It was a message wrapped up in personal sharing–and who knows how long I would have gone on without her subtle (hem!) encouragement.

One thing that came along with masturbating was fantasizing.  I’d tried having romantic fantasies before going to sleep and would kinda fail at them.  For some reason (!) masturbating while fantasizing helped me keep the fantasy going, helped it develop and expand.  Masturbating is one of the great, go-to creative exercises in my life.

Another thing that came along (at first) with masturbating was guilt.  I should be having sex with my sweetie instead of sneaking behind his back to masturbate on the side.  That’s long gone.  The second that I found out he was occasionally wanking off on his own too, all that guilt collapsed into a more sexy kind of secret time to myself.

And this whole understanding about the idea that all adults (occasionally, well, okay frequently) masturbate was made overt when I had a creative writing teacher talk to me about it.  He said one of the other students–younger than myself–had turned in a story in which the ‘oh no, horrors!’ moment had been where a wife catches her husband masturbating in the shower.  He was like–“I tried to explain that’s no big deal, and relationships don’t really work like that” and I was like, “Tods.” I didn’t say that–I don’t remember what I said, but he was so glad to have confirmation from someone more mature.  Of course, being male, being older, and being a professor, he couldn’t push his point, (how awkward it all was) but he knew I had been in a serious relationship for quite a while, and it was one of those “I’m not crazy, am I?” check-in-with-another-adult-to-see kind of moments.

At this point, masturbating is so much a part of me, such an easy pleasure that comes with my week, I can’t imagine life without it.  It’s like I have my sweetie, and then I have this relationship on the side with myself–which is so very satisfying, if different.  It’s a great part of what keeps me calm and happy.  It’s calorie free.  It’s an excellent tool for writing smutty romances.  It’s the ideal way to get to sleep when my sweetie is away on a trip, or when I’m just all snarled up from a f**k-tacular day.

At one point in my life, shaking my fist to the sky, I swore whenever I wrote a romance I’d have at least one masturbation scene in it–or at least reference masturbation as a gimme for the heroine.  Because when I was growing up there were no masturbation scenes to be found in romances anywhere.  Ever. Okay, I mean, maybe in some erotica collection of short stories about ‘real women’s fantasies’ but no decent heroine back then ever plunged her fingers into the pudding–not in one the bodice rippers or rape-y harlequins I read.

So now with erotic romances, and some great pop songs about women masturbating, I would hope that last 8% would get a little spit on their fingers and join the rest of us for some multiple O’s.  Do it for Masturbation Month.  Do it for yourself…And, where can I get this T-Shirt?

 

Summer Mojito Interval

Sadly, team sports will not be as much of my summer vacation as I would like. Sadly.

By Alexa Day

 

I wouldn’t really say I’m on vacation this week. I’ll actually be very busy working FOR YOU. You just can’t see all the things I’m doing for you right now. That time will come soon. Until then, you’ll need some way to amuse yourselves. I can’t just leave you with nothing, can I?

 

So here’s a video.

 

 

And some links to Posts from the Past.

 

If you love your summer reading as much as I do, don’t forget to leave your favorite authors a review. Reviews keep us writing.

 

Got the summer blues? Remember the joy of Richonne.

 

This is the season to leer at the summer hardbodies.

 

We can all be reading Playboy on the beach now, right?

 

And finally, consider those who take their shirts off for money, fame, and power … and the women who love it.

 

You’re also welcome to swing by my website. I just finished a renovation over there.

 

I’ll see you next week with more ways to pass the time. Make things easier for yourself in the meantime and follow Lady Smut now.

Servant of the Undead, erotic zombie horror free read part 3

By Isabelle Drake

Each Sunday, I’m offering up a part of my serialized erotic zombie horror story, Servant of the Undead.  If you’re new to this, please start with Part 1, “Do it.”

Part 3: “Thanks.”

“Um, hi?” she said, her smudgy eyes taking on a desperate sheen. “My name’s Mattie, by the way.”

Hayden reached over, trying to X out of the update email he’d been writing to Bob Keeler so he could shut down his computer. Her hands slid down from his waist, over his ass, and around thighs, the light pressure easily heating him up even through the thick material of his pants. Trying to ignore her and his lust, he jabbed at the keyboard, hitting whatever he could reach. He had to get the hell out of there before he started acting on the fantasies flickering in the back of his mind. This girl was going to get him into trouble, somehow. He just knew it. “I really have to get going.”

“But, you—I—” Mattie rolled herself around him, hopped onto the table, and wrapped her legs around him. She reached behind to brace herself with her hands but slipped back when her palm landed on one of the books. She looked back, stayed still for a few seconds, slid the books around, running her hands over the titles. “You’re reading about zombies?”

Hayden cleared his throat. “It’s research.”

“What did you find out?” she asked, flipping open the book with the pictures.

He reached around and pushed the book closed. “Nothing.”

She opened another, thumbed through the pages. “What were you looking for?”

“Anything. Nothing. Whatever I can find.”

She spun around and shimmied, her breasts bouncing. “I can help. What do you need?”

“Thanks, but I don’t think you can help. Unless you have proof that zombies are real. Like some pictures, you know. They’re combing the streets, looking for flesh. Haven’t you heard?”

She grinned up at him, her eyes shining with unmistakable lust. Was it for the zombies or him? “Sounds scary,” she said, lifting her eyebrows.

“Scary is right. If I don’t get something fresh about zombies my editor probably won’t give me any more special assignments.”

She didn’t say anything, just sat there rocking her shoulders, staring at him with her smudgy eyes, licking her pouty lips and looking exactly like a Barbie doll gone bad.

Why was he talking with her anyway?

Hayden tried to free himself from her thighs, but she was stronger than she looked. A lot stronger. He reached down to pry her legs off, but the rows of table lights went off, and he was blinded. His eyes began to adjust, making use of the light from the street lamps coming through windows. It was flickering from the snow, so it was still difficult to see clearly. He fought her legs again, pulling in a deep breath as he did. That scent settled across his tongue, spread to his teeth, making his mouth open.

Hayden gave up trying to break free from her legs and reached for her chin, tipping her face up to try and reason with her. “I think this section is closing, so—” When their gaze connected, his words fell away. Her eyes flickered in the darkness, glowing green.

She blinked, but the gleam came back as soon as her gaze found his again. It wasn’t the snow casting the light in her eyes. It was something inside her. Something that explained why she was climbing around in the night, not wearing a coat, not cold. Hayden slid his palm across her neck to settle on her throat. There had to be a pulse.

Of course.

He was being totally ridiculous.

Just to be sure, he slid his hand down lower, stopping over her heart. The thick straps were in the way, so he tucked his fingers under them, stopping when he felt the swell of her breast. Before he could feel her heartbeat, she laid her hand across his and guided it lower, brushing his palm across her nipple. The peak tightened and she sighed softly, the sound a cross between a moan and whimper.

Hayden tried to move his hand lower, to feel the weight of her breast in his palm, but the straps were too tight, and his hand wouldn’t move. A thread of panic ignited his nerves, and he tugged. She moaned again, reached up to pull the straps from her other breast and pinch her own nipple, wiggling with satisfaction. His cock responded, the sudden flow of blood making him impossibly hard.

She dropped her hand and reached for his belt, her fingers working quickly to undo the buckle, the snap, and zipper. His cock jutted straight out, ready to thrust into her pussy despite the confusion and anxiety swirling through him. He tugged at his hand again, and it finally came free. But he was still held captive by her legs. With strong, sharp motions, she yanked him closer, tightening the grip around his waist as she lifted her skirt.

The black fishnet stockings ended near the juncture her thighs, just as he’d imagined and she was, in fact, without panties.

The dark wood of the table contrasted with her light skin, and the smooth lips of her pussy were slick and ready. The possibility of trouble was still there, but this other possibility—doing something crazy—was the one he was paying attention to. His dick was so hard he could drive into her with one thrust, he was sure of it.

Hayden grabbed her thighs, spread her legs and swung her forward, angling her so her hot sheath opened completely. He inched closer, so the tip of his penis touched her wet skin.

“Do it,” she whispered. “Fuck me.”

~~~

Want more? Part 4 will be here next Sunday. Or, you can come over to the Servant of the Undead Wattpad page and read more for free right now. Unfamiliar with Wattpad? It’s an online community for readers and writers. Its filled with free fiction of all kinds. It’s easy to log in and get started; you can use your Facebook account.

Isabelle Drake writes erotica, erotic romance, urban fantasy, and young adult thrillers. Best Friends Never, her newest release is the first in the Cherry Grove dark YA series.

 

Kissing William Shatner and Drinking Wine With Sierra Cartwright

By Elizabeth SaFleur

International best-selling romance novelist, SIERRA CARTWRIGHT, has authored more than 30 erotic romances about capable, submissive women who yield to powerful, alpha male Dominants. She doesn’t see that as a conundrum, saying submissives are some of the strongest people around. She was born in Manchester, England where she earned the nickname, “Bossy Britches,”  and she once ran a company. Now, thankfully, she writes seriously hot books full-time. I had the good fortune to say hello to SIERRA at the April RT Booklovers Convention, and learned her thoughts on writing and BDSM are as fascinating as her characters. SIERRA stopped by LadySmut to, well, kiss and tell . . .

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR: First things, first. Did I hear correctly that you once kissed William Shatner? You know, we have to know more…

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: I wish it was more spectacular than it was! Should I make up a story? Make it scandalous, rather than totally innocent?

I remember sneaking down the stairs and hiding behind the couch to watch Star Trek when I was a little girl in England. It came on past my bedtime, but I loved the show so much. I’m totally sure my parents knew I was there, but since I was quiet, I was allowed to stay. I was so in love with Captain Kirk. (ES Note: Me, too!!) As I grew older, he made me swoon. So handsome in his uniform. And that smile…

One year, for Christmas, I got twelve books, in a big box. They were all Star Trek books, a series of them. Star Trek Five had a red cover! LOL

The first book I ever wrote was a Star Trek fanfic. Handwritten in blue ink. I think it was 123 pages long. I’m not sure now whether or not it was legible. It’s fair to say I was one of the original Trekkies. (Before they were Trekkers!) And, yes, I went to Trekkie gatherings.

I think I was sixteen when William Shatner appeared in the play Death Trap at the Elitch Gardens Theatre. I remember driving myself, and no one was as in love with him as I was, so I went alone. After the play was over, I dashed backstage with my program clutched in my hands, shaking. I wanted his autograph so bad.

He was as lovely and as gracious as I had hoped he would be. And I was bold. I told him my life would be complete if I kissed him. Did I mention he was lovely and gracious? He tipped his head to the side and let me kiss his cheek.

Can I tell you a secret? Because he was so kind to a smitten girl with her first celebrity crush, I’m still a little in love with him…

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR: What a great story. Speaking of which, let’s talk about your books. I just finished Bind (The Donovan Dynasty). Loved it. What a fabulous premise with compelling characters, not to mention hot as Hades. Which character came to you first, Lara or Connor? Did you start BIND with the premise of Lara going to Connor for help or was their “arrangement” a surprise to you as you wrote?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: Thank you for saying so… Wait until you get to the elevator scene in Boss. Even I needed a cold shower!

And it’s an astute observation that one character comes to me before the other. In this case, it was Connor Donovan. He was such an interesting character to me. There are three brothers in the Donovan Dynasty series, and that’s a dynamic I’ve never before explored. But of course I can’t do anything the easy way. So the oldest brother is actually the bastard child who lives hours away from the rest of the family. Connor is technically the second son, but because Cade runs the family’s agribusiness, Connor gets to be head of the family.

Originally, I’d seen him as a bit more of a hardass than he turned out to be. And since his Dad had been in a marriage he didn’t want to be in, I thought it would be fun to give Connor a marriage of convenience. In playing with that plot idea, Lara then came to me. I wanted her to be equally strong, so I made her an only child. And I made her an executive.

I loved playing with two strong characters and watching their negotiations and seeing them evolve. Iron sharpens iron, right? But these two make each other better people. It just takes a lot to get them there…

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR:  When choosing the various smexy acts for your books, do you try for a broad spectrum of BDSM in each book, or do you think, “okay, this is going to be primarily a spanking book.” Or “this is going to be primarily a bondage book.”

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: I try to let the BDSM acts arise from the characterization, rather than the other way around. I’ve never really written a book I’d consider primarily a spanking book because I adore the full spectrum of BDSM. I’ve had newbie heroines, a heroine who is a submissive at a club, even a heroine who was a masochist. I think BDSM is unique to each couple, and their personalities will influence the naughty tools and implements. For example, the heroine who enjoyed masochism is considerably more likely to enjoy or be familiar with the cane than a heroine who has never experienced BDSM.

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR:  You’re great at warning readers what your books include (because let’s face it, not everyone likes to be surprised). Are there any fetishes or sex acts (not talking the usual ones that most publishers refuse to print) that you just won’t write?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: That’s a tough one because the minute I say I won’t do something, I’ll get an idea for it. I guess if the idea seems to fit, I might run with it. If it’s kind of unusual or questionable, I might work it into a subplot using secondary characters. I learned that trick at a writer’s workshop once, taught by Stella Cameron.

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR:  Do you ever discover ‘trends’ in the BDSM writing world? Like this summer it’s all about bondage or this year it’s all about Femme Dommes? Do you decide to incorporate that new trend in your work?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: I wrote my first BDSM novel about eight or nine years ago. Back then, it was a very small subgenre of erotic romance. I’ve never written to trends, though I wish at times I was able to! Truth is, I write too slow for that. It would be like me trying to catch a train that had already left the station. I can picture me standing on the tracks, bent over, gasping for air, and wondering what happened.

My Fem Domme offering was published about seven years ago…proof positive I’m nowhere near the trends!

Psst… Crave (Bonds Book 1) won the Best BDSM Book of the Year award by the BDSM Writers Con in 2015.

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR: Do you think that women seek to read about submissive women in the same way powerful men seek dominatrixes, i.e. even average women carry so much responsibility in their lives, they are looking for a few hours where they can fantasize about being completely without power, without having to take care of others? We know that’s a common reason for being in that role in real life, but I was wondering about the desire to read about it.

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: I fantasize about someone keeping my wineglass topped off while I soak in the tub with a good book. Oh, wait. I digress. :-)

There’s something about storytelling that’s elemental. We stand around campfires and tell stories, and the more compelling, the better. I agree with you, Elizabeth, that we are so damn busy juggling a million responsibilities. And reading can be a great escape. I’m sure that giving up responsibility is a part of it for many of us.

I’m really struggling with this question because I think you’re absolutely right, and I also think there are other elements to it.

There are components such as: suspending reality, being swept away in a fantasy world, the emotional charge of being swept up in the drama of someone else’s relationship. I also enjoy identifying with the heroine and I yearn to be as brave or witty or smart as she is. Through reading, I vicariously seize new experiences and get the weak-knee feeling that comes from challenging an alpha while I’m the center of his attention. But most of all, I can ignore the goddamn relentless buzzing of the dryer and dinging of the microwave for a few minutes.

And especially when it’s the end of a long day and I simply just want to relax. I’ll bet if we toss this question out there, we’ll get a million different answers, too. Isn’t that the awesome thing about reading? It can be all those things. A romance novel got me through endless hours in the hospital waiting room. Another gave me blessed relief as I tried to cope with my beloved stepmother’s death. Annabel Joseph’s series occupied my time while I was driving cross-country for a funeral.

When I pick up a romance, I’m always guaranteed of that happy ending. I get the sense that life is worth the struggle and the effort. And I always feel good (maybe gutted at times) when I reach the end. I’m a romance fan, all the way to the end.

Great, great question. Oh, and I have different reasons for scening. But that’s another conversation entirely…

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR: Next time! What are you reading? What BDSM novels inspire you? Has your taste in BDSM changed over time?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: I’m really an eclectic reader. I just finished the latest Harlan Coben paperback on an airplane, and I also downloaded an R.K. Lilley, an Aleatha Romig, and an Eden Bradley for the trip. On my last trip, I read an Annabel Joseph trilogy.

Another insightful question from you about my taste changing. I think the market has grown and evolved. We have new dark erotica titles to choose from. As for my tastes, I enjoy reading a broad range, from light BDSM to stuff that’s a bit more hardcore. But my writing has evolved, too, to more complex characters in more complicated relationships. The sex may have gotten hotter along the way, too.

ELIZABETH SAFLEUR: And, because readers want to know, what’s next for you, writing-wise? Anything you can tease us with?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT:Thanks for asking. I’m finishing up a super-secret project that I’m announcing in the next couple of weeks. And then, due to reader demands (and a few threats), I think I’m diving into a story about a certified genius… This will be the most difficult writing I’ve ever done, mostly because I never intended for Julien Bonds to be a hero. So I made him outrageous and a bit of a mad man. Honestly, I’ve been working on character charts and plotlines for months. I’ve had several brainstorming sessions with other writers. And I’m still nervous that I might not have the skillset to pull off my vision. I’m not sure, honestly, that I’ve ever been scared as a writer, but I am now. Pass the wine. (ES Note: You are a woman after my own heart.)

FINALLY…THE LADYSMUT FAST LANE

LADYSMUT: Favorite song?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: Depends on the time of day! Yikes! Right now I’ve got the Blake Shelton song, “Came Here to Forget” on endless loop.

LADYSMUT: Billionaire or military hero? (Or other?)

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: Give me a billionaire any day of the week. Didn’t I mention I want my wineglass kept full? And I want seriously good wine. (This is my fantasy, after all.)

LADYSMUT: Going back in time or jumping forward to the future?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: I love technology. I want to go way, way into the future.

LADYSMUT: Leather or lace?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: Not even a question. Give me the leather baby. It absorbs blows from the flogger better than lace does. Oh. Wait. Did I say that out loud? (Ed. Note: Oh, yes, you did! ;-))

LADYSMUT: Number one bucket list item?

SIERRA CARTWRIGHT: January in Mexico, or somewhere really, really warm. I checked out Key West just yesterday. The place I wanted to rent was $8,736. Can you send that billionaire my way, stat?

LADYSMUT: We’ll get right on that…once we’re through with him. He-he.

LOVE LINKS to SIERRA CARTWRIGHT

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Elizabeth SaFleur writes contemporary erotic romance and she’s not afraid to get graphic about it — “it” being the smex, the BDSM, or Washington, DC society, which she regularly features in her series, the Elite Doms of Washington.