Liz Everly's Blog, page 63

Sex in public, or why I read my erotica to live audiences

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Writing is a lonely act, and while I wouldn’t trade my writing time for anything, ever since I was first published in the erotica genre in 2000, I’ve sought to take that act out into the world and make it interactive with live readings. Because my stories and books veer toward the sexier side of things, I’ve found that audiences are incredibly hungry to hear people talk about sex in public in an honest, open, unashamed way. It doesn’t matter if it’s fiction or nonfiction, or what the exact details are: if you stand up in front of a crowd of people and are talking about getting naked, people will listen.

Me with burlesque performer Gigi La Femme at In The Flesh

For five incredible years of my life, from 2005-2010, I took that spirit and ran a reading series in New York called In The Flesh. In that time period, I hosted over 300 readers covering a range of genres, from erotic romance to memoir and poetry. While these days it’s but a fond memory, running In The Flesh remains one of the highlights of my career because it taught me an incredible amount about getting out of my shell and connecting readers with authors.

Yes, it was exciting when the events were covered on Gawker and Flavorwire, but what warmed my heart was walking into the relatively small bar where the readings were held and seeing both familiar and new faces each month. The people who showed up valued the community that formed sitting around tables before the readings just as much as what was said into the microphone. They valued the openness about all kinds of sexual interests that were presented with complete honesty, whether they were sex confessions or love stories, fetishes or fears, tender moments or raucous ones.

What thrilled me was when authors who made the erotica genre what it is today, like Susie Bright and Zane, deigned to grace my stage. If you want to make friends with writers, my advice is to start a reading series. Writers want to bring their words directly to people, want to find out which lines sizzle and which ones fizzle. They want to have a give and take with an audience, to share a part of themselves and have listeners share right back.

Zane reading at In The Flesh; photo by Stacie Joy

One piece of advice I give my writing students, but don’t always take myself, is to read your work out loud. Yes, it’s time consuming, yet I’ve never regretted doing it, because I always find elements that work differently when voiced. Well, live readings take that sensation and amplify it. If you’re reading from an already published work, sure, you can’t change the text on the page (unless you’ve self-published in ebook form), but you can learn how to phrase things differently next time. You simply hear yourself in an entirely new way.

That’s why, even though I now live in suburbia and don’t have access to many literary events, for my newest anthology, Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1, I’ve made it a point to travel and bring these stories to life live. It also gives me the chance to get to know my authors in person and introduce their work not just on the page, but in front of actual people.

That’s an important part of my value system as a writer and editor, because I know that those who come out to hear a reading, given the myriad other options for how they could spend their evening, will remember the little things. They’ll remember the funny behind the scenes story or bit of local inspiration a writer shares. They’ll remember the way someone’s voice drops or how they shift or blush. They’ll remember the sound and texture and rhythm and energy when they’re at home, rereading those same words. I know I certainly do, and once I’ve heard an author read their work out loud, that forever changes the way I approach it when I return to it on my own.

For all that, though, readings are not easy. You are competing with the weather, with other events, with TV and every other form of entertainment out there. You never know how many people will show up, or how much they will pay attention once they do. You don’t know if someone will ask a question during a Q&A that is utterly inappropriate. There’s no guarantees and room for any and all surprises, which is part of the magic and the horror of doing live readings. There’s no delete button, only spur-of-the-moment decisions.

Then there’s the actual opening your mouth and sharing your words part. The truth is, for me, even reading my work out loud is incredibly scary. No matter how many readings I’ve done, I still shake and get nervous and want to duck and hide whenever I step in front of a mic, or look up and see eyes eagerly expecting me to entertain them. It’s a far cry from staring at a blank screen, which, while demanding in its own way, is not one I will ever disappoint.

I don’t know if something that was a breeze to write will suddenly remind me of an intimate part of myself I didn’t realize I’d revealed in print. I often cringe as I mentally go back and try to re-edit my words, inserting a more charming phrase rather than a clunker that now seems totally wrong.

But what I’ve learned from sharing my stories everywhere from famed lesbian bar Meow Mix (RIP) to London sex toy store Sh! and countless places in between is that it’s worth getting over those nerves. Why? Because readings bring out our humanity. While words on a page (or screen) remain the same, we will never speak them aloud again in the exact same way. I learn more about myself and my work every time I read it aloud, and as an anthology editor, I treasure being able to hear my authors voice their work and bring out nuances I never would have gotten if I hadn’t heard them.

If I were rich, I would find a way to do readings with every author in my anthologies, because while I’m infinitely grateful that my books are on bookstore shelves, in ebook formats and out as audiobooks, it makes me fee like I’ve come full circle as an editor to get to smile and look directly into my authors’ eyes, to get to know the person behind the story, to take a tale I’ve come to think I know and add even more depth to it.

I also want to help create public spaces where listeners can hear writers, especially women, sharing stories about love, sex, romance that come from the heart. When my voice drops as I read, or I stammer, or I make a last minute decision to skip a part that no matter how many dirty words I’ve written, suddenly seems “too embarrassing” to say in front of people who I’ll be mingling with in an hour, I’m being human. I’m not three names in a fancy font on the cover of a book or a Twitter handle, but a person revealing my flaws and insecurities.

That human element is one that can’t be replicated. As I said at the beginning, writing is lonely, but when you hear someone chuckle or exclaim or gasp or whisper, it’s an incredible feeling, one that, for me, is worth all the nerves. It means that my words, the ones I often struggle over, the ones that seem distant because they were written one or two or ten years ago, are suddenly vivid and alive.

Probably the biggest thing I’ve learned is that audiences don’t expect me to be perfect (I do enough of that on my own). They’re okay if I trip and stumble over a word, if I suddenly get shy, if my persona on the page doesn’t quite match up to who I am in a room full of strangers. They aren’t looking for a false version of perfection, but for genuineness, and that I can amply provide.

So if you’re in Chicago, or know anyone else who might be and would like to hear some sexy stories about everything from a woman used as a lover’s canvas to a couple and a tentacle dildo to a woman whose erotic airplane adventures are reported back in breathless detail to her husband, I hope you’ll join me and my authors Tara Betts and Rose P. Lethe on March 31st. I promise we’ll give you an event to remember.

My Obsession with Richard Armitage’s Nose

Sinister villain? Grim factory owner? Doesn’t matter, you still want to crawl up him like he was a granite mountain and start ripping the cravat off his neck.

By Madeline Iva

I’ve seen Richard Amitrage’s nose, and I cannot go back.

The other day while finishing up my Netflix’s binge I watched North and South (BBC)NORTH AND SOUTH and just about swooned over Richard Armitage every time he went into profile.

North and South (Penguin Classics)NORTH AND SOUTH is based on a fabulous book by Elizabeth Gaskell, one of Charlotte Bronte’s friends, and I highly recommend it. But the plot always made me shudder a little. What woman who lived in such soft rural splendor of the South of England would want to voluntarily stay up in a grim northern mill town of Milton, in–I kid you not–Darkshire–when it was painted generously in shades of coal, poverty, and dim rooms?

A woman who met Armitage playing Mr. Thornton that’s who!

The mini-series filled in the lines of Margaret’s attraction. It’s a pretty faithful treatment of the book, yet still somehow remains a visual feast, and I include Richard Armitage’s face as a part of that feast, but also his whole alpha vibe.

He’s like an interesting mix of Darcy and Heathcliff. Part stiff pride, part wild violence—and overall contained in a man who wants to be better educated. (Who knew continuing education could give one such a thrill?) Underneath it all, Thornton is a man who is extremely sensitive, even if his harsh words come out a bit before his softer feelings.

He looks thoughtful here, but he’s just about to go thrash a worker who was lighting up a cigarette.

Meanwhile, I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days. (Doing massive edits perhaps) But I’m all about lowering stormy skies, and loving all dark Victorian interiors. Darkshire? Bring it.

The moment Richard Amritage showed up on screen he was as North as it gets. Buttoned up, with a voice you could file nails on, he’s looking down his nose at Margaret–cause it’s such a magnificent nose to look down, so how could he not? He was a perfect fit with dark rooms and the grinding of a man who wants to do the right thing, but must carefully look about him to keep his mill going and keep his workers earning a wage. The book gets into strikes and strike busting, the mini-series saves us much of it, keeping only the bits we need to forward the romance, i.e. the misunderstandings and connections between the two.

Margaret is a soft southern British woman with a sensitive heart, good common sense, and having been raised a clergyman’s daughter, doing good works is in her blood. She has a desire to understand the suffering of the mill workers, even when she doesn’t quite grasp the politics at play between the workers and the owners in their town. At first Thornton is repugnant to her as he beats his workers, and seems to lash out with total confidence at their efforts to unionize.

The actress playing Margaret is good too. One problem with the series abridging the book is that it seems like every other second someone wants to marry Margaret.

The book presents a man of complex character—along with his mother—and tells us how they had to claw themselves back up by the nails after his father made a fiasco of their finances. The scars from that time still throb, and the mini-series goes light on the severe sacrifice the mother made for her son. From the book, I remembered the mother, Mrs. Thornton very well. In this mini-series both actors were magnificent and it’s a little unfair because you don’t quite get to explore all the events that made Mrs. Thornton the thorny woman she is. However Sinead Cusack is just amazing in the role despite this. If you loved Les Miserables at all, you’ll feast on this mini-series like a vampire on the neck of a hemophiliac.

I was talking with Duchess DecadenceWendy LaCapra, historical author and friend, about Richard Armitage the other day. She said that he’s narrated a few abridged versions of Georgette Heyer books. I asked her if they were good, and she said that normally she would never recommend abridged anything, but she keeps his audio on her phone, if only because “It takes me to my happy place,” she laughed.

He’s narrated VenetiaVenetia, and also narrated Heyer’s SylvesterSylvester—one of my very favorite books of hers, along with The Convenient MarriageA Convenient Marriage. Check it out readers! And check out NORTH AND SOUTH if you haven’t already. It’s on Netflix and the book is probably in your local library.

The more grim he looks, the better. Wouldn’t be surprised if there was all kinds of BDSM fan fic about him.

And hey – If you live in Virginia or near Virginia, the VA Festival of the Book is this weekend. Free panels –a documentary on romance no less– and Eloisa James will be there! Also a lot of other smashing authors including two of my faves – Kimberly Kincaid and Avery Flynn. Here’s a link. : )

The Fam Is Calling

By Elizabeth Shore

Hey Sexies! My apologies for not being able to post this week. I’ve had an unexpected family situation arise and must jet off to America’s Dairyland. I’ll be back next week.

Hugs,

Elizabeth

 

Show Me the Stars: Why I (and Many Authors) Need Reader Reviews

I need to know how I’m doing. For all our sakes.

By Alexa Day

Is there anything more tedious than the person who does not grasp how fortunate she is? I think not. I endeavor not to be that person.

I recognize that I have one of the best jobs in the world. I love writing erotica and erotic romance. I’m always happy to share my Tuesdays with you folks. I have so little to complain about.

I really hate to ask you for anything when I’m so happy, but this has been on my mind a lot lately.

I have very, very few reviews.

I did have the audacity to complain to a colleague about this once. She told me to count my blessings and move on. After that, I stopped complaining for a while, but now I find this is bugging me again.

I want to be clear about something first. Nothing is going to stop me from writing. I’m wired a little strangely. If I’m not writing, the pressure builds up in my head and I become cranky and difficult to live with. Writing is self-care. So I’m going to keep writing, whether there are reviews or not.

If there are no reviews, however, I am left to presume that one of the following four things is true.

1. My work is actually awful, and everyone is sparing my feelings.

2. No one is reading my work. Tough to say whether this is better or worse than #1.

3. You don’t want the whole world to know you read That Kind of Thing.

4. You told me exactly what you think of my work in person and don’t understand what I am now crying about.

Let’s grab those one at a time.

If you are hesitating to leave a review because my books are awful, you’re not really helping either of us. If I don’t know there’s anything wrong with a particular story, I’m going to keep writing stories that are basically just like it. I need to know if something’s not working for you. That’s just quality control. Don’t worry so about hurting my feelings. I’m an attorney. I’ve been a newspaper reporter and a bartender, and before that, I integrated my high school. I have been called everything a woman can be called. You are not going to hurt my feelings with words. I’m a writer. Words work for me, not the other way around.

As for the second possibility, I really do struggle with whether it’s better or worse than knowing the work is horrendous. I would venture to say that most authors worry that they’re shouting into a void, sending their hard work out into a world that couldn’t be less interested in it. The idea bothers me a great deal, despite the fact that I’m hardwired to keep shouting, even if no one cares. Discoverability is a big deal in our fast-paced high-tech publishing world. My concern that no one sees my work runs deeper than my ego (which is saying something). See, if I don’t have all that many reviews, the world gets a little smaller for me. Any number of promotional opportunities want to see a certain number of Amazon reviews. Besides, how often have you passed on a product that only has a handful of reviews?

With regard to the third option, I want to share a little Amazon secret with you.

Amazon recognizes that you might feel weird about revealing to your friends and family that you read the sorts of … well … explicit sexual content I take such delight in writing. Amazon wants to help you out. Your Amazon settings likely hide your reviews of Those Kinds of Things (explicit sexual reading, vibrators, etc.) from the prying eyes of your judgmental circle of acquaintances. You can tell the whole world that you loved that anal scene so much you had to reach for one of your favorite, highly reviewed toys. If your settings are all right, the public at large need never know.

Finally, I want to thank those of you who have actually come right up to me and told me you enjoyed my book. If I seemed shocked, please bear in mind that I think I’m shouting into the void, as I mentioned above. I like talking about books with readers, and few things are as pleasurable as knowing what readers want to see in their favorite stories.

I still need you to leave me a review.

I know you just told me how you feel about the book, and I’m really grateful for your kind words. But that was for me. The review is for the other people on Amazon. People who don’t know you or me. People who are wondering if this book is better than that one or why they should bother to buy either of them.

That wonderful stuff you told me? Well, other people on Amazon need to hear it at least as much as I did.

So, you see, it’s both safe and beneficial for you to come out of the woodwork and let me — and the rest of your favorite authors — know what you think of our work. More reviews, even the bad ones, ultimately mean better visibility. Better visibility means better sales. And better sales make it that much easier for me and my colleagues to keep writing.

You can spare a kind word for that, right?

Follow Lady Smut. We want alll the stars.

Sexy Saturday Round Up

Welcome to spring, my fine fluffy chicks, and another week of SSRU.

From Madeline:

Going after the elusive Breast O. 

International women’s day in five photos

A happy wholesome ending for a hot HAWT felon.

Raise your hand if you think a guy holding a fish makes him more attractive.

Ten kick ass female dicks.

From Elizabeth SaFleur:

B&N pulls the plug on the Nook

I wrote a lapdance/feminism piece for Kate Allure’s blog:

From G.G. Andrew:

Asshat in your life? Try one of these 50 snarky comebacks.

Male leaders mansplaining International Women’s Day.

Child actor in Room has a really hot dad. Seriously. Look at the photos.

From Elizabeth Shore:

Ooooh, gals, why are we sometimes so mean to each other? Marcia Clark’s topless photos is one such nasty betrayal.

An erotica writer ponders why everyone things she’s a sex-crazed maniac.

Think your sexual fetishes are weird? They’re not.

The 10 weirdest places people have been caught having sex.

A peach smoothy for your vajayjay.

 

 

 

 

 

Wild Wicked Weekend: Sex Position Gumby and Other Delights

By Elizabeth SaFleur

Bring together 130 romance authors, readers, bloggers, publishers and promoters with five male models and what do you get? Wild Wicked Weekend (WWW), that’s what. I promised you a recap of this event. Well, pour yourself a martini and send your mind to San Antonio with me – the scene of the crime, as they say.

This three day party was launched a few years ago by the Belle Femme Authors, Desiree Holt, Brenna Zinn, Dalton Diaz, Cerise DeLand, and Samantha Cayto. The event offers the perfect ratio of an agenda and free time for spontaneous frivolity. As someone who goes to a bazillion conferences and conventions, my hat is off to the Belle Femme authors for pulling off that right amount of structure.

And, oh, my God, it’s fun. Not like, oh-that-was-amusing, I’m-glad-I-got-a-break-from-real-life fun. I’m talking an unfettered, unapologetic, kahlua fudge sundae, throw-your-panties-in-the-air blast. The kind of mind releasing time we all crave, where you can sink into being a little silly, less inhibited, and (probably) a lot too loud with girlfriends – new best friends you met an hour ago but who totally got you from the word “hello.”  A few author friends kept telling me WWW was like this. But hearing WWW is a party like no other, and experiencing it is the difference between being told about a book and reading one.

In addition to making lots of new fabulous friends, let’s start with five obvious reasons for why this event must be experienced first hand . . . our dates for WWW.

Axl Goode, Charles Paz, Blake Labare, Taylor Cole, Kelli

No one can accuse me of burying the lede.

Throughout the weekend, our five male hosts entertained us, hung out and, in general, ensured we forgot the real world. They graced us with a Magic Mike-esque show, lapdance lessons, and bodypainting (on them, not us). It was like having five boyfriends (without the sex) who thought you were cute even hung over and having a bad hair day.

“Yes, you may fingerpaint me.”

Forgive the blurriness, I was receiving my own lap-dance across the aisle.

But that’s not all. Throughout the weekend, we were treated to a female impersonator show, a trip to BDSM dungeon, The Lair, and games — oh, so many games. Of course, when authors get together there’s also lots of talk about books, too. A short book fair was offered, and over 100 gift baskets were raffled off, with proceeds going to Wounded Warrior and Animal Rescue.

Each lunch and dinner had a decade theme (40’s, 50’s, 60’s or 70’s), where attendees competed in a costume contest for prizes.  Gawd, I miss the 1970s — all those clothes resembling disco balls and we weren’t afraid of looking sexy.

Disco ball, anyone?

But, besides getting to spend time with some fabulous women, my hands-down favorite part of WWW was Sex Position Gumby. I’m soooo stealing this idea for New Year’s Eve.  I was one of the lucky one’s whose number (from my raffle ticket) was called to play. My ticket ended in “69” so clearly fate was involved.  This is where “what happens at Wild Wicked, stays at Wild Wicked” finds true meaning.

That’s me below on a bed with Taylor Cole, acting out an erotic scene, read outloud by fantastic Dalton Diaz, from Brenna Zinn’s latest (hot!) release, The Omega Team: Precious Cargo (Kindle Worlds Novella) (which I incidentally read on the plane on the way to WWW). How’s THAT for kismet? The audience provided the sound effects, while Taylor and I, well, just take a look . . .

Note: That’s a ‘prop’ bra, and not mine. Sigh. But that’s really Taylor, and those are his real arms. I checked many times for you . . . ya know, just to be doubly sure you would receive an accurate description of the hard, rippling, steely muscle. If my husband is reading this, remember our talk about “research,” K?

All this fun required stopping for sustenance often to keep up our strength. My two WWW food groups: alcohol and guacamole.

  

In fact, those olives and guac may have been the only green thing I ate all weekend.

Maintaining one’s energy during WW is imperative given you can expect to get about four hours of sleep the entire weekend. Who could snooze when there were midnight games of Crimes Against Humanity, poker and Texas Hold’em (mostly held in the lobby of our hotel, the historic Menger Hotel)? We kept the night staff entertained. You could say WWW women don’t arrive  to the Menger with a governor. We were a little loud.

Really, really late one night, a group of us skulked around the older section of the Menger looking for ghosts. Rumor says you can capture them in pictures through mirrors.

A ghost has been reported walking between those two doors pictured below, moving from one suite to the other. Sadly, he didn’t make an appearance that night.

Given what a ‘fraidy cat I am, I was shocked at my disappointment that not a single paranormal entity came out to say “boo.” Maybe we scared him with our earlier screaming laughter in the ballroom? (See Sex Position Gumby above.)

Oh, well. There’s always next year. Yes, I’m going back. I can’t miss the Gumby games, after all. The male models have nothing to do with. Nope. Nothing at all.

P.S. I would have shown you more of the wild women of WWW, but they have a strict policy of allowing attendees to maintain anonymity, and, remember: “what happens at Wild Wicked, stays at Wild Wicked.” Good to know. Otherwise, videos of Sex Position Gumby would surely make YouTube stars of us all.

P.S.S. A big shout-out hug to Carlene, a Lady Smut fan, who I got to meet in person at WWW! Thanks for reading, and let me know if I missed anything about WWW, okay? XO

*****

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.

Keep or Ditch: Purging My Kindle TBR Pile

by Madeline Iva

I was traveling over the weekend and wanted something to read on the plane.  I hauled out the ol’ kindle paperwhite and shuffled through the covers in my TBR piles.  Alas, nothing called to me.  Nothing!

Oh, there were books there, plenty of them.  So many in fact, that I have a TBR pile that’s just erotic romance, a TBR pile that’s just fantasy, and one that’s just paranormal. That’s in addition to two other TBR piles–one that’s labeled ‘priority’ and one that’s general. But I wanted to read something exciting; something a friend might vigorously recommend, screaming “This is the most orgasmic novel EVER, you HAVE to read this NOW!”

We’re not even talking about the books piled up in my home.

Okay, that’s a tall order.  The rational side of my brain is saying, “How do you know there’s nothing like that in your TBR pile? How do you really know?”

Good friends, I’ll confess I’m a bit OCD when it comes to being organized. If I ever get a tattoo it’ll probably say something like “purge baby purge” because there’s nothing so invigorating as throwing out the old to make room for the new.

So this is my experiment — a kind of scorched earth policy for all those unread books languishing on my Kindle.

THE EXPERIMENT: Start reading as many books as possible from my TBR collections.  See how it feels to ditch a lot of books.  See what the level of quality is for the tons of free reads I’ve picked up.

THE RULES: Open up 20+ books on Kindle, force read the first 5 pages and instantly decide to keep the book or ditch it.

WHAT I’M LOOKING FOR: 

Let’s be honest: some insane hawtness is always welcome.
Good writing and great characters
A compelling atmosphere/location doesn’t hurt. I’m loving me some Gothic these days.

THE HAUL: here are the discoveries–

Him by Carey Heywood (contemporary)

Being Neighborly by Carey Heywood (contemporary)

Friends with Partial Benefits by Luke Young (contemporary)

Tragic by J.A. Huss (contemporary) it’s about models, Shari Slade recommended this one.

Julian’s Sins by Robin L. Rotham (BDSM)

Off the Rails by Isabelle Drake (contemporary–and a Lady Smut writer)

A Rouge in Sheep’s Clothing by Elf Ahern (gothic historical)

Bannockburn Binding by Tracey Cooper Posey (steamy Time traveling vampires) This one is a bit whack.

Forbidden by Tracey Cooper Posey & Julia Templeton (historical)

Faelorehn by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson (fantasy)

Smoldering Nights by Lisa Carlisle (paranormal romance)

In For a Penny by Maggie Toussaint (it’s a mystery–not sure if it’s a romance as well)

The results where different from what I expected.

Toss toss toss: Why does it seem to take so much energy just to start a book? I don’t know, but I ended up tossing almost everything out. My Erotic Romance TBR collection? Gone.

The Quality of Mercy is Not Strained:  I discovered that faced with the prospect of ditching each book I started reading, I was full of mercy. I was happy to keep any book that was ‘fine’.  Not thrilling, just not annoying.  Even so, most were very easy to ditch.

God those covers are small and blurry on the Kindle. I think this puts me off as a reader–I love a glorious hot cover.

No Rapes, Please: A huge chunk of the books I ditched, surprisingly, started off with the heroine being raped: either by her father, by a semi-virgin boyfriend/nut, by an evil gang, etc. These were very easy to toss. Note to self: don’t start a book that way.  Seems a little overdone.

That’s not to say I haven’t enjoyed books in which a character has been raped at some point, but those moments tend to be buried further into the book. They don’t start off with a rape right in your face, page one.

Are Free Reads Quality Reads? Yes, most of the books I ditched I’d gotten free, either on book bub or because the author publicized that the book was free on Amazon. Ten of the books above were free as well–but I realized I have some other connection to the book.  Either I know of the author, or they were recommended by an author whom I trust.  Only two books on the list above were free reads and I knew nothing about them…

I found there was a correlation between being able to read the title of the book on my Kindle and the book starting off well.

THE RESULTS: It feels so good to purge! I now have ten books to focus on, instead of 100.

In the future I will pay more close attention to other aspects of the free read offered.  Is this a highly successful known author putting out her book for free to scoop us all in? Are there over a hundred reviews on Amazon? I might actually read an excerpt of the book first before grabbing the free read.

To find quality reads, I’m going to have to start buying more books, even if it’s just moving up to the books that are .99 cents on Book Bub.  This hurts, because I’m a cheap bitch, but I’m going to suck it up and do it.  It’s only .99 cents.

I’m also using the author function on Book Bub to follow authors I like so I won’t miss any of their free reads or sales.

The next experiment? Collecting a bunch of books that are ‘recommended reads’ based on what I’m buying online and see if this function really works.

Madeline Iva writes fantasy, paranormal, and contemporary romance.  Her novella ‘Sexsomnia’ is available in our LadySmut anthology HERE, and her fantasy romance, WICKED APPRENTICE, will be out Spring 2016.

Ripping Hair Out By The Roots While Seeking Inner Beauty

By Elizabeth Shore

As the late great Joan Rivers used to say, Can we talk? I don’t want to over share, but we’ve gotten to know each other over the years, right? And I’ve got something to confess. I recently lost my virginity.

My waxing virginity.

Now, to be clear, I’ve had plenty of lips waxes. I get one pretty much every month, in fact. But I’m not talking about the little strip above the lip. No, siree. I’m talking about going bald down below. In the nether regions. The full monty, not a hair left, 100% Brazilian bikini wax. I’ve had it done, and I’ve lived to tell.

Granted, many of you are no thinking, aaaaand….? Is there a story here? Because you’ve had it done, too, right, and probably think it’s no big deal? But for the uninitiated, for those (like me) who were in virgin territory when it came to waxing your lady bits, let me lay the groundwork. First, if you’ve got any inhibitions, any grain or scrap or modicum of modesty, check it at the door. It has no place in the waxing world. Your esthetician is going to be poking around areas where only your gyno is allowed. You’re going to have to spread your legs and spread ’em wide. You’re going to have to expose your bum cheeks to her. And she’s going to hurt you.

So, yeah. It hurts. Having your pubic hair ripped out by the roots isn’t what anyone would call a picnic. For the full Brazilian you get all the hair around your vag ripped out, as well as the hair lining your bum cheeks. Don’t think you have hair there? You do. And in order for her to get at it you have to pull your knees to your chest and let her come knocking on your backdoor with a hot pot o’ wax. Then, when you think it’s finally all done and you can shuffle out the door with your dignity in tatters, not so fast. There are always a few stubborn hairs, but those suckers don’t get a reprieve or anything. No, no. They get plucked out the old-fashioned way – with tweezers! This is where you need to exercise restraint and, tempting though it may be, not assault your esthetician.

OK, then. It’s finally done. I’m bald. I’m seeing a part of my body that hasn’t been exposed since I was 13 or so years old. Getting to that state was a special kind of hell. But guess what? I’m absolutely loving it.

I compared notes with one of my best girlfriends, Bella. She’s the one who dragged me to it and naturally wanted to know what I thought afterward. Here’s the truth: I already know I’m going to do it again. Being denuded down there makes me feel sexy because it makes me feel clean. This isn’t to suggest that I felt “dirty” before. But I’ve never been a fan of a hirsute body, be it a woman’s or a man’s. By ridding myself of something I disliked about my own looks, I feel sexy. I feel confident. I’ve achieved inner beauty by way of a Brazilian.

Sound crazy? Perhaps. But I came across an article by Geertje Couwenbergh called Beauty, Bling & Bliss that made me realize my inner beauty feelings through external means are perfectly in synch. In her article, Geertje states, “Saying that true beauty is in the inside is just as silly as saying it is on the outside.” Integration of both internal and external beauty is the key to achieving the true beauty ideal. She proposes a makeover of the way we view beauty that she says is the “most wholesome.” Those ideals include being both grateful and confident, appreciating what you have instead of mourning what you don’t, and behaving stylishly even when you’re alone.

In other words, regardless of whether anyone, ever (besides me, that is) sees my hairless hoo-hoo, I keep on keeping on with it because I like how it makes me feel. I feel sexy, and confident, and I exude my good feelings as I’m walking the streets of NYC. And maybe, because I’m feeling so good, I do something nice for someone. And then they do something nice for someone else. And so on and so on. Making the world a better place one Brazilian at a time. :-)

 

Elizabeth Shore writes both contemporary and historical erotic romance. Her recent releases include Hot Bayou Nights and The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires. Look for her erotic historical novella, Desire Rising, coming soon from The Wild Rose Press.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leftovers or Delicacies? Single Women Go From Desperate to Dangerous

I do? More like, I might. Maybe. If I have time.

By Alexa Day

This past weekend, in China, the body of a 43-year-old woman was discovered in an elevator. She’d been there for a month. Maintenance folks had stopped the elevator, yelled to make sure no one was there, and left the elevator out of service for a long holiday. The BBC reports that scratches were found on the inside of the elevator car.

Sounds like a nightmare, right?

On Chinese social media, folks are coming out to blame the maintenance folks and building management for not doing more to make sure the elevator was empty before taking off. They are also blaming the woman in the elevator.

This is not so surprising, given the nature of social media.

Ms. Wu was single, and she apparently had no one to check on her whereabouts. While some are reflecting on urban isolation in China, where a person can be surrounded by others and still be more or less alone, others believe Ms. Wu was at risk because she was unmarried, one of the so-called “leftover women,” or “sheng nu.”

A single girl becomes one of the sheng nu in her late 20s.

I had two questions right away.

If a Chinese man had died after a month in an elevator, would anyone on social media even mention his marital status?

And would the American media devote any attention to the marital status of a woman who’d been trapped in an elevator for a month?

The second question was tougher for me.

Also last weekend, I ran across an interview with Rebecca Traister, author of All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation. Traister recalls that in her favorite childhood stories, the heroine’s life seemed to end when she got married. American society might still pathologize a woman’s decision to remain unmarried. At one time, she might have been decried as undesirable; today, she’s more likely to be viewed as selfish. Either way, the adult woman with no spouse is coloring outside the lines and has been for a long time.

Here and in China, however, more and more women are living the single life and loving it all to pieces.

They’re building full lives — personally and professionally — and it’ll take some pretty special guys to entice them to take that walk down the aisle.

I’m proud of my genre for keeping up. When I first started reading romance, marriage really was the end of the story — the only end of the story. Today, a romance heroine is more likely to enter the relationship of her choice, maybe a marriage and maybe not, on her own terms. These aren’t stories about women who are worried about being leftovers. These are stories about women making the choice to bring love into their already full lives.

Is the world ready?

Follow Lady Smut. We’ll check in with you regularly.

Alexa Day writes erotica and erotic romance with heroines who are anything but innocent and fictional worlds where strong, smart women discover excitement, adventure, and exceptional sex. A former bartender, one-time newspaper reporter, and recovering attorney, she likes her stories with just a touch of the inappropriate, and her literary mission is to stimulate the intellect and libido of her readers.

Deadline Madness

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

I’m on deadline, my first deadline, well, my first hard deadline for a novel. Yes, I said it, a novel. It’s coming (and so is the announcement). So soon, that I’m deliriously behind schedule. My schedule, the one I set for myself, but still.

I do not look anywhere near this good when I’m working at Starbucks. Trust me on this.

This weekend, I’m attempting to write 15,000 words in three days. I’m a little more than halfway there at 12:18 AM on the third day, and I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna rise again, though I hafta, because I gots to sit my ass back down at Starbucks tomorrow and crank out those last words. (I was there for 12 hours on Saturday, no exaggeration, and I swear the manager was about to turn out the lights and offer me a blanket right before I started to pack it up.)

Which is probably why I now look damn close to this:

Actually, this cat looks better than me at this point.

So I apologize, lovely Lady Smutters, for leaving you high and dry for fresh content with which you may kick off your Monday Monday. (Bah dah. Bah, dah, dah, dah.) (OK, fine, I put in a link for those of you who’ve never heard of the Mamas and Papas and are now wondering what the bloody hell I’m bah dah, bah, dah, dah, dahing about, and dear, sweet, holy, baby Jesus, how have you never heard of the Mamas and Papas?!)

Once I finish this friggin’ delightful book and get it to my editor, I promise to put enough brain cells together to be back in Lady Smut fighting form. How else are you going to know when to go buy it, right?

Until then, here, have a cookie.

Can anyone see the cookie? I’m a tad distracted…

Now don’t you feel better?

Follow Lady Smut. We’ll soothe all your cookie urges.

Singer, writer, 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 and can be found at http://www.kierstenkrum.com and regularly over sharing on various social media via @kierstenkrum.