General Blog Posts
You are forever beautiful, framed in white gauze, pink-cheeked fever doll. Sweat beads on your brow, infected opalescence, lips dry as parchment. Forced from a raw throat, over a heat blistered tongue, whisper you love me. Impatient patient, greedy for just one more breath, inhale my kisses. From my brimming well, slake your monstrous...
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Inspired by the cornice on the doorway of the Society of Antiquaries. As someone tore her veil fell aside, those present assessed her face with the eyes of connoisseurs. Competent evaluators of horseflesh each and everyone of them. And there was silence. She reached up to tear apart the seams of her shift, the...
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I just finished reading Dae’s post at Sadistic Excess. It left me in an oddly weepy mood. Not because he’s going to take his writing down, or because he’s decided to embark on something new. I think it made me sort of ashamed. He, like a number of other bloggers I know, is very...
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The bones inside my limbs turned black in the heat as you set me down into the liquid sea of the sun. Who’d have thought vaporization would take so long? O, Icarus! You should have dropped me. Rushing wind, gravity winning the day and then nothing. But never had I thought to play the...
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Promise you’ll lay me in the shifting sands of some place with a name that sounds like a polite interruption. I fancy that even the dead can feel the dance of sandy grains skittering over burned flesh. Just keep me away from water. I’ve spent my whole life rotting and now I’d like to...
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Huguette Ampudia left a comment that included a link to a Philip Pullman response on my post: The Ethics and Eroticism of Non-Consensual Sex in Fiction and it was so good and apt, and the response is so final and eloquent, I thought I’d post it. Tweet
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The cool glass against my breasts stings and my nipples seize into hard buds. As steam-filled as the room is, through the droplet spattered shower door, I see you clearly. The sight of your skin, gleaming taut over the frame of your bones, dark against the white tiles, is a dreadful exquisiteness. It catches...
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Both Kitty Thomas and Pillow Talker wrote posts on this topic. And a long and frustrating twitter discussion then led to a chat session with various other people. Kitty Thomas’ post: “The Short Skirt Defense” is here. Pillow Talker’s: “My Reply to Kitty Thomas” is here. There are very few erotica publishers who will...
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I don’t think there is anything as pleasurable to a writer as praise from another writer you admire. Yes, I know we are supposed to be writing for readers and it is wonderful to run a blog like this that allows me to get feedback from them, but a review is a different thing....
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There’s something true about you in your moment of ecstasy. With the shiny sweet wrapper of social order and status peeled away. Once you’ve left your obsession with being desirable behind. There, at that point when the synapses fire and you go blind, when need brings the animal to the surface, there is something...
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