Liz Everly's Blog, page 83

The Circle: My Favorite Erotic Romance Authors

by Madeline Iva

 

When I look up Charlotte Stein’s latest book on Amazon – (have you seen it btw? Looks delicious, doesn’t it? I mean, it reminds me of Sheltered, and that’s okay with me because I lurved Sheltered) — Amazon asks me if I’ve read Cara McKenna.

I love Cara McKenna.  And when I look up Cara McKenna, it lets me know that other people who also love Cara McKenna also love Anne Calhoun.

I love Anne Calhoun.  And when I talk to my friends who also love Anne Calhoun, they all tell me I must read Beth Kery.

But Amazon doesn’t recommend Beth Kery along with Cara McKenna, Anne Calhoun, and Charlotte Stein.  Instead, Amazon recommends Lilah Pace.  Okay, Amazon, I’ll check out Lilah Pace at some point.

Yet I trust my friends much more than Amazon when it comes to recommendations.  And it seems like there is this circle of authors that embody the kind of erotic romance we all adore.  E rom that is smart.  Feminist-y in spirit.  Hotter than hellllllll.  Although–it does tend to stay in certain parameters, I’ve noticed.  Parameter which Beth Kery strays from (just gonna say it here–there’s anal in Beth’s work.)

So there you have it — a circle of erotic romance writers, with the token kinkster being Beth Kery.  Which is fine by me — I like the occasional down and dirty kink.  And apparently my erotic romance writing friends too.

You’re thinking that’s a pretty small circle — and you’re right.  I’d definitely add some concentric rings to go around it.  I’d toss Lynn Silver into the next ring, as well as Shari Slade, and Christina Lauren of Beautiful Bastard fame.  These ladies are definitely tromping around the same kind of romance territory in terms of tone, class, and you know, hotness.  (At least IMO.)

Amazon has its own opinions.  It thinks that if I like Charlotte Stein then I must like Skye Warren too. I find this fascinating –because Skye Warren used to write as Amber Lin who collaborated on a few books with–wait for it–Shari Slade.

But isn’t Skye Warren writing dark erotica? So why would Amazon recommend Skye and not Beth? No idea.  At any rate I’d toss Victoria Dahl into the next outer ring ’cause she’s working the same kind of hot sex stuff, even if she’s daffy and funny and much lighter in tone than everyone else.  She can zing around in a circle all by her self, kind of like an electron, circling the nucleus of an atom.  Maybe I’d add in Annika Martin for company (she writes that Kidnapped by the Kinky Bank Robbers series–rather daffy and light.)

And what about me and my writing? Well, hell.  I aspire to write like what I want to read naturally. But I gotta read more.  It’s not like I only want to fall to my knees and worship a few lovely erotic romance writers.  I’m open to more awesomeness and freely admit that while my Kindle is chock full of books, I am drawn much more to books people have personally recommended to me.

This is where you come in.  It’s time for audience participation.  Have you read these ladies above? Which of their books did you like best? If you have–or even if you haven’t–who ELSE do you recommend? I’m all ears–do tell.

Meanwhile, even though God and everybody is at RWA in NYC and we’re not, we can follow Lady Smut.  Hell, you can even subscribe to Lady Smut and win some books.  At the very least you can join our mind-meld about all kinds of smexy smart stuff.

 

 

 

Midnight Sun And Hot Men

By Elizabeth Shore

Hey All, I’m off this week, away in Finland and hanging out with my friend Sami Eskelin.

Sami Eskelin

NOT!

Sad to say, I’ve never met Sami Eskelin. He IS, however, Finnish. So are the guys below. I figured that since I’m away in Finland, you all should virtually join me. So enjoy some northern eye candy and I’ll see you next week.

xo Elizabeth

Sami Lepistö

Mikko Salo

Tero Pitkämäki

Ville Valo

Confidence is Sexy

I am crazy busy as usual (writing under so many names!). The joy of my summers is that I have a looser schedule than when I am teaching (never mind that I am in Scotland instead of New York, so very very happy). So many good things are happening — spending time with my family, seeing friends here and there, reading (such a luxury!) and of course, writing lots.

There are always times when confidence slips away, but at present I am soaring high [knocks wood]. It’s amazing how much easier everything is when you’re confident. Hurdles are jumped, delays laughed at and problems simply provide new routes to success (would that it could always be thus). Because much of my viewing is chosen by a wee lady, this is the song of my confidence at present:

I guess it’s part of being a certain age but rock-n-roll equates with confidence in my head. I know other people might imagine being dressed to the nines, or wheeling and dealing behind a desk, but I imagine it to be strutting across a stage, wowing an audience — holding them in the palm of your hand as they scream and sing along. It was the way to break out of poverty into riches, it was the way to get people to hear the words they had ignored. It was the way to scream, ‘I am sexy, dammit!’ even if you were not conventionally pretty.

Because what it comes down to is confidence: believe you are sexy and act the part on stage — even if the stage is just your local coffee shop, or in the pages of your books. Truth is, you are awesome as you wanna be!

Follow Lady Smut: we’re awesome too. And check out this great box set I’m part of inspired by Duran Duran. Nine novellas for just 99¢ — such a bargain! Pre-order now.

Finally Finding Your People

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

Tomorrow, I (and a few other Lady Smut bloggers) am off to New York City and the Romance Writers of America’s national conference, aka RWA15. It’s not too much of an exaggeration to say this is basically the highlight of my year. My first “Nationals” was in 2011, the last time it was hosted in NYC,  and it was a crucial move forward for me in pursuing my goal of being a published author. Crucial both professionally and financially, because this conference is not cheap, but what conference is?

Many authors are introverts, which is one of many reasons why they’re so comfortable spending hours and hours and days and days alone at the computer playing with their imaginary friends. But as introverts, they are daunted by the very idea of conferences and the massive amounts of people (RWA15 is sold out with 2000 expected attendees) crowding through the hotels and ballrooms and meeting rooms and sidewalks. I’ve seen lots of helpful, well-meaning tips in the last few weeks advising introvert-inclined writers on how to handle the pressure and anxiety of a huge event like this and I think that’s terrific. One of the many benefits of social media particularly is the opportunity for people to share what they’ve learned from their own experiences to better improve another’s journey.

Here’s the thing: I’m not an introvert and I love conferences. While I’m just as happy as the next person to burrow in my cave and not have to deal with people, I am, at heart, a performer and I feed off the energy of being in a group, or more accurately, being in front of a group. I love the increasingly interesting and informative workshops on offer, the networking events, the dish, the flow, the ebb. It makes me a better writer, a better professional, and a more informed industry participant. I’m not one for pitching to agents and editors at Nationals–too much pressure for any already full event–but I do enjoy getting to know new people, learning about new authors in every subgenre, meeting industry legends who have inspired me, spending time with people I’ve only known through social media, and always, always, talking about romance.

Sure, I get as tired and weary as the next person at a large event like this. Two years ago when RWA was in Anaheim, CA, I hit a wall of frustration and decamped to out ghetto suite (two connected rooms) with my roommates and friends where I dozed in the chaise with a cup of wine until the delivery pizza arrived while they chatted away about child rearing. But I’m just as inclined to sit in the hotel bar for an afternoon and chat with whomever wanders by. I want to be in the thick of it as much as I can.

Since adolescence, when I first started reading romance novels, my proclivity for the genre has been mocked and ridiculed, shamed and denied. In junior high, I hid those old skool Zebra clinch covers upside down on my Trapper Keeper, only to have a friend snatch it up to mercilessly poke fun at it and me for reading it. (Said friend is now a renown and successful author of YA novels). One family vacation, my aunt and uncle expressed concern to my parents about my reading choices. They read part of a Woodiwiss novel and, one rape seduction scene later, forbade me to read the whole genre. (My mother also forbade me to listen to “secular” rock, so you can see a theme here.) This only made me find better hiding places for my books, but still. There’s always been a taint of shame with reading romance, a feeling that I was doing something less and thus was less for it.

The first time I attended a romance writer’s meeting and conference, I knew that I had found my people. Other women who knew the same stories and characters that I did, who loved the same big declaration scenes that I had shivered over, who understood the language and the tropes and the good and the bad and the old skool. Who taught me (and continue to teach me) that romance novels are ultimately feminist fiction and that every woman deserves to be the heroine of her own story.

Going to RWA Nationals is all that on steroids. The Mother Ship calling me home.

Want to get a taste of RWA15? Come by the New York Marriott Marquis in Times Square for a helluva big signing with 450 romance writers. The 2015 “Readers for Life” Literacy Autographing will be on Wednesday, July 22, from 5:30 – 7:30 PM in the Westside Ballroom. The event is open to the public, but come early to get a spot in line.

Follow Lady Smut. We are definitely your people.

That’s Nice, Dear: Why I’m Afraid of Magic Mike XXL

I guess I’m just not feeling it. Heyo!

By Alexa Day

Full disclosure: I haven’t seen Magic Mike XXL.

Sure, I intend to go at some point. I’m just not excited about it.

This was not the case with the first Magic Mike. I was excited about that. I live in a conservative place that’s doing its level damnedest to pretend it isn’t conservative, so the male revue is hard to come by. My crew of conservative friends, though I’m sure they’ll deny this, hesitates to admit that they’re interested in That Sort of Thing. But ultimately, we went to one of those dinner-and-movie places and had a delightful time.

My litmus test for stories is simple. At the end of the show or the book or the movie, I ask myself if the story surprised me. Was I finishing sentences? Did I see that plot twist coming?

In short, if I know what’s going to happen next, I’m disappointed.

(This is why I’ve given up on the rom-com, by the way, but that is another story for another day.)

Even though watching hot, scantily clad dudes dancing provocatively around the big screen (or the stage, whatever) is absolutely My Sort of Thing, I’m going to need to see a story. The original Magic Mike supplied a story. From time to time, hot, scantily clad dudes talked to each other. They struggled with their off-stage goals and aspirations. They had problems. Sometimes things got a little scary. Characters surprised me and disappointed me and I found myself hoping that this one or that one would manage to survive the film without doing anything too stupid or self-destructive.

The analogy isn’t perfect, but Magic Mike worked for me the same way that Boogie Nights worked for me. Then-boyfriend and I went to Boogie Nights expecting a movie about porn and the people who make it. Two and a half hours later, we left the theater unable to listen to “Sister Christian” in the same way. I respect that. Boogie Nights is a story that doesn’t really care that people came in expecting to be titillated.

Magic Mike worked for the same reason. My crew and I came in expecting to be titillated, and we were, but we also spent part of that time tense, frustrated, curious, you name it.

Fast forward to Magic Mike XXL.

I think I started hearing that Magic Mike XXL was a “feminist stripper movie” as soon as I knew what the release date was. (Esteemed colleague and fantastic reviewer Kiersten Hallie Krum supplies her review here; be sure to check that out!) I myself tried to avoid the media coverage — remember, I like a well executed surprise. But before long, I started hearing from any number of media outlets, in essence, that this was the stripper movie I wanted. You know, as a woman.

Well, that’s a problem. See, I thought I already had the stripper movie I wanted. As a woman.

Magic Mike XXL, so far as I can tell, is about Cute Boyz Doing Stuff Girls Like. They’re super sweet! They, like, ask questions and stuff! They’re really interested in women’s lives! And women tell them what to do and they do it!

You know what that sounds like to me?

An interesting problem to have … but still a problem.

Remember the scene in Coming to America when Eddie Murphy’s character, Prince Akeem, is introduced to the woman his parents have chosen for him? This is the scene where the gorgeous woman in the beautiful gown hops on one foot and barks like a dog because the prince told her to. Remember that? She’s willing to behave like that, to bury all her interests and desires and everything that makes her an actual person, because she thinks it’s the only way to get the prince’s attention. There’s nothing behind her perception of what he wants, and her perception is flawed. She’s pretty to look at, but the poor dear isn’t good for much else.

Similarly, Hollywood seems to have figured out that women were willing to travel with other women to drop loads of money on hot, scantily clad dudes dancing around the big screen. Hollywood has taken the unusual step of supplying us with more of what they think we want — BUT they’ve removed the rest of the story. Now, I haven’t seen it, and this is just what I’m hearing, but my impression is that everything gritty and complicated and potentially unpleasant or challenging has been excised from the storyline established by the first movie. This has given rise to the complaint that there is no story, which in turn elicits the response, “Well, sweetie, how much story do you really need here?”

There’s your feminist stripper movie, friends. Hopping on one foot and barking like a dog.

Whatever yoooou like.

I haven’t seen the movie. It’s altogether possible that I’m going to be surprised, frightened, disappointed, and — dare I wish — shocked by the characters and their behavior. And if I’m wrong, I will absolutely come back here and eat every one of these 800+ words.

But in the meantime, I’m adjusting my expectations.

What say you? Are my fears entirely unjustified? Let me have it in the comments.

And follow Lady Smut. If I have to eat my words, I think you will want to be here to see that.

Sexy Saturday Round-Up

By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers

Hello, Sexy! It’s your Saturday. Make it count. Lady Smut is here to help with your blog post reading list.

From Liz Everly:

Great post here: Has EL James Broken Erotica?

The last word on “cum.”

Spanx and health risks. Does this surprise anyone?

From Elizabeth Shore

Pass this along to your guy today and get your mind blown tonight. 5 oral sex mistakes he’s guilty of.

Caitlyn Jenner gears up for her new show, and gets fashion advice from Kim Kardashian. Check out the trailer – if you must.

She just “had to do it.” So says a woman trying to keep Portland weird by hanging fake penises from power lines. Don’t know if it makes Portland weird, but as for the woman herself …

Getting creative with company benefits. IBM says it will offer new perk – free pick-up and shipment home of breast milk from working moms who travel.

Summer Reads Give Away is HERE!!!!

Grigoris says subscribe. Grigoris says relax with him on this nice sandy beach. Then have his babies.

by Madeline Iva

Hello beautiful! We have a pretty new pink button we’d like to show you.  (I know what you’re thinking–get your mind out of the gutter.) Over to the right you’ll see a ‘Subscribe’ button for our new Lady Smut newsletter.

if you like to hear from saucy women about the latest in smexy
if you want great recommendations for erotic romance
if you like free reads and give aways
if you hate it when people share/sell your email to others (Hey–we do too!)

then you’ll want to subscribe.

Adding to the whacky joy of getting our newsletter every other month, you’ll also be automatically entered in our SUMMER READS give away.  Just subscribe and you could win.  (Muppet arms flail.)

But how does it work, you ask? Well, Dave, it’s easy. We have a big long list of print and ebooks we’re giving away.  If your name is selected, we’ll send you the list and you get to pick one item from the prizes.  First come, first choose–so subscribe now.

I know what you’re thinking: OMG OMG OMG! What can I win??????

You could win this collection of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s anthologies

You could win a copy of our anthology

You could win (if you’re into it) a passel of bodice ripper historicals from the early 90’s…

…or a cool hardback copy of two Barbara Cartland historicals.

The kitch value of this book is undeniable.

You could win a $25 dollar gift card from Barnes & Noble.

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Whups–*that’s* not a gift card!

 

Or one of our books.  Or a book by one of our favorite erotic romance authors.  Or I’ll make you cupcakes–who knows? You’ll just have to subscribe and see what you get.  Push that button now.

And–if you haven’t already–follow us at Lady Smut.com for fun, smexy, fun 24/7. :)

 

Next Week: Checking out Cara Vance

by Madeline Iva

Hello readers! Finishing up a deadline this week, so I’m off —

Before I go though, I’ve been feeling a yen for some paranormal, so I’m going to check out two stories out by Cara Vance.  The enticing blurbs are below.  I quite liked these descriptions– what do you think?

Master of the Dungeon: A Heroes & Harpies Series

All that college student Trinity Sanders wanted was to stay at home – watching TV, eating ice cream, and bemoaning her cheating louse of a boyfriend. Instead, she let her roommate talk her into an evening of throwing dice with her gaming group.

Annoyed at the prospect of wasting a Friday night with a bunch of social rejects, Trinity decides to take out her frustrations on their game master Seth. He might be cuter than expected, but as far as she’s concerned he’s still a dork. Sadly for her, she’s picked the wrong person to mess with. Seth is in control of a very special book, one that lets him bring his world to life – a world that he rules over as a god.

Now, Trinity finds herself trapped in the body of a scantily clad barbarian as Seth tests her with terrifying ordeals – ordeals that the warrior inside her finds oddly titillating as well. She must battle monsters, complete her quest, and satisfy all of her desires – because the mythical creatures hunting her are not only real; they’re interested in a lot more than just her blood. (77 pages)

The Necromancer’s Wife:

Can the peace of the afterlife compare to the pleasures of the flesh?

Lydia Strom has an incredible love life. There are no pleasures too intense, desires left unexplored, or boundaries that can’t be crossed. There’s just one small problem: she died three years ago.

Somehow her husband has found a way to transcend the barrier between life and death so as to bring her soul back for short periods. Each time Lydia awakens, she’s in control of a different body. She gets to experience her husband’s touch through the senses of other women, allowing her to enjoy him in ways she’d never thought possible.

But not everything is as it seems. As Lydia explores her new existence, she begins to suspect that her husband has been keeping secrets about his past, their marriage, and her death. Now she must confront these mysteries head-on and decide which means more to her: the Earthly pleasure he offers or the comeuppance he might deserve. (130 pages)

If you check out these books — tell us next week what you think.

Meanwhile, follow us at Lady Smut for your paranormal pleasures! (And thanks to everyone who entered our Goodreads give away.  We’ll be holding a Summer Reads Give Away here on the blog – check back for details.)

My Lips Are Too Big! Pursuit Of The Designer Vagina

By Elizabeth Shore

Well, hell.

Just when I’ve started thinking that if I keep everything all trimmed and tidy down below, even enduring hot wax being poured on my vajayjay and the hairs being ripped out at the strands, it’s just not enough. Not at all. In the relentless pursuit of perfect beauty, the fastest-growing cosmetic surgery in the U.K. – and one of the fastest growing in the U.S. – is labiaplasty. Yes, indeedy. Cropping off those too-long vaginal lips so we adult women can have vaginas that look like those of porn stars. Or little girls. (sigh).

In the documentary Sexy Baby, about the sexual landscape of girls in the cyber age, subjects in the film discuss their body image and why they’d want to undergo such a procedure. They talk about their perception of ideal beauty, including their own genitalia, and state that large vaginal lips are ugly, a view popularized by the adult film industry. Female porn stars, as we know, routinely undergo breasts augmentation so they can show off their big double D’s for their adoring viewing audience, i.e, guys who watch porn. They also, apparently, are getting their vaginal lips nipped and tucked through labiaplasty. The message is leaking out to women that a vaginal “rejuvenation,” as the procedure is sometimes referred to, is an overall good thing on the road toward vajayjay vavoom.

In The Perfect Vagina, a documentary about this phenomenon, reporter Lisa Rogers sets out to discover why so many women are so keen on chopping off their lady bits. It’s interesting – and depressing – to see the amount of women who genuinely feel their vaginal lips are so ugly that there’s no choice but to go under the knife and trim those lips like a vaginal haircut. Check out the video if you wish.

 

We do lots of things to make ourselves attractive to the opposite sex: wearing make-up, getting our hair done, watching our weight, donning nice clothes. Where does one draw the line? It’s all so complicated. You could just say it’s a personal choice. One woman’s decision to enhance her breasts, get a face lift, or have labiaplasty is hers alone and doesn’t mean others need to turn lemming-like and follow suit. But is there personal responsibility in these decisions? If a segment of the female population undergoes labiaplasty to obtain small vaginal lips, are they by extension putting the burden on the rest of us to do the same or be doomed to feel less attractive?

Some would – and do – argue that they take on the risk of cosmetic surgery for no other reason than to feel better about themselves. But is that always true? Hypothetically speaking, if a woman lived in complete isolation with absolutely no chance of encountering another human being, would she really feel bad about her supposedly too long genitalia? Would she long for the skills of a surgeon, if only for a day, to snip those lips to feel good about herself? Yeah. ‘Nuff said.

I don’t judge the women who’ve decided their lady bits need revitalizing. We are, after all, our own harshest critics. But as a romance writer I take solace in the fact that the heroines we write about, the ones with whom readers identify most, are the ones with faults and flaws. The simple truth is, perfect isn’t pretty.

 

 

 

 

My Six Summer Obsessions

By Liz Everly

Every once in awhile we here at Lady Smut delve into our obsessions. It’s been awhile for me, so I thought it was about time.

1. I’ve started watching “Orange is the New Black.” We all know how behind I am on pop culture things. It’s like I’m constantly playing catch up since I’ve become a parent. I don’t really mind–I’m not much of a pop culture person. but in this case, I’ve said to myself, “self, you need to pay more attention!” This show is amazing. I’m not through with the first season yet. In-credible show.

2. Lemon water. Oh yes. That’s it. I’ve been drinking it by the gallons this summer. They say it detoxes your system.  I don’t know, but I love it. In fact, I crave it. I don’t know how I will survive in NYC a week without my own stay of lemon water.

3. Cara McKenna. Why are her books not found at my local libraries? I can’t afford all the books I want. Oh Cara, let’s get you into the library.

4. The RWA Annual conference in NYC. I’m not sure I’ll even ever been halfway prepared. But it is bound to be a hoot meeting some folks I’ve only known online. I can only take so many panels and often find myself overwhelmed and sipping a cold one in the bar. I am thrilled to be able to go this year.

5. Research. I know that sounds dreadfully boring to many of you. But I totally adore research. And I’ve been doing a lot of it for the historical I’m writing. Not a romance, alas. But I am working in some romantic elements and hoping to hook up with some historical folks at RWA. (See #4)

6. Paul McCartney and the Beatles.

My husband and I took our daughters to their first rock concert. We agreed this one would be worth the price and the experience for our daughters. It was. And it was worth all of the crap we had to do to get there and get home. The crowds, the rain, the parking garage dramatics. This concert sort of set the tone for much of our family conversation this summer. We’ve been talking about the music, the lyrics, the history. How some of McCartney’s songs capture characters so well, in such few words. What a talent!

How about you? What are you obsessing about this summer?