Onward to 2016!

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I have to say, 2015 was a fantastic year for me in terms of writing and publishing. It was the year I got to hold my first piece of published work in my hands. It was the year I had three erotic poems and three short stories released in print and ebook anthologies, as well as online (plus a BDSM erotic romance short pending for early 2016 and another out on submission). I completed my first novel just under a year ago and my second in November, the latter of which I intend to begin querying by mid-February.

Side note: writing a query letter is hard, ya’ll. Dare I say harder than writing the book itself. But it can and must be done if you want to be trade published, which I do.

There’ve been some changes. Nearly all of my energy has been rerouted from short stories to novel-length works. I turned my “blog” into a “news” feed because I wanted to devote the majority of my free time to writing fiction. I put a flash fiction series on the back burner that may or may not make it to “The End.”

While I believe wholeheartedly that it’s important to finish what you start, I think it’s also important to stop and take inventory, to ask yourself if what you’re doing is bringing you closer to your goals or slowing you down. I want to write books. Short stories and flash fiction have served as invaluable stepping stones for honing my craft, but the only way to get better at writing novels is to write them.

So, whatever your goals, ambitions or resolutions—writing-related or otherwise—here’s to a productive 2016!

Little Red

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(Originally posted to Tumblr on Nov 30, 2014)

The trees riot as wind chimes rattle their bones against the onslaught. That long, forceful howl. I could swear I heard a crunch, thick boots in packed snow, a broad silhouette—black on white, eyes shut tight against cold.

But my fire, it crackles, shooting sparks to maple floors and Persian rugs, thick beds of lanolin spread wall-to-wall. I writhe, wrapped loose in red gauze, as cedar moans.

You look frozen, traveler. Frost clinging to brown scruff, cheeks and lips chapped, fingers and toes numb to touch; eyes and mouth ravenous.

There’s bread on the hearth and soup on the stove, but, tell me, wolf in ram’s clothes:

If I let you in, will you swallow me whole?

Hands cupping bowls, cup my breasts, tongue in folds.

When hips buck, hold them down, drink your fill, claim your crown.

What big eyes you have, what sharp teeth—

The better to ravage you with, my red treat.

Now, feast.

Inspire Me

(Originally posted to Tumblr on Nov 5, 2014)

“If I asked you to write me a poem, would you?”

“No.” I smile.

“Why not?”

He tucks an errant curl behind my ear.

I shift onto my knees and the mattress groans.

“Because it doesn’t work like that.”

He smirks. “Do you ever write poems about me?”

I shrug.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means whatever you think it means.”

“Why so vague?” He laughs.

“Because.”

I straddle his hips.

“Because what?”

“Because, if I say ‘Yes,’ then you’re always going to wonder if something I’ve written is about you. And if I say ‘No,’ you’ll be disappointed no matter what I write.” I trace his jaw with my finger.

“You might be right.”

“Better to remain mysterious.” I wink.

He shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m just looking out for your fragile male ego.”

He grasps my wrist and pulls me flush against his chest. “It is quite fragile.”

“I know.” I kiss the tip of his nose.

He wraps his palm around the back of my neck and holds me there, our lips almost touching. “I just want to mean something to you.”

“Of course you mean something to me.”

“No, I know. But—” He swallows. “I want to inspire you.”

I taste his lips. “Go on, then. Inspire me.”

Guest Poem: “Heels and Scratch” by MrFoxwood

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Happy Friday!

This past week has been chock full of writing and revisions, both for my WIP and my short story submission to Frisky Feminist Press’s Coffee Romance anthology. Unfortunately, that means I haven’t had much time to work on other things (like blogging).

Fortunately, I have a madly talented writer friend who is willing to donate his well-crafted verse in my stead!

MrFoxwood, or Will, as I’ve come to know him, is an erotic poetry and fiction writer with whom I’ve had the immense pleasure of corresponding and workshopping. His work is vivid, lyrical, and oh-so-stimulating. I encourage you to check out his primary blog, 13th step study, where he posts poetry and other literary musings; his secondary blog, not so secret stash, where you can find a sampling of his original artwork and photography, plus other titillating visuals (often NSFW); and his Literotica profile, where you can read some of his short erotic fiction (FYI, some of the banner ads are NSFW).

This poem is one of my favorites.

Heels and Scratch

Heels on marble floor,
all prim and purpose,
prick my ears,
raise my head from the paper,
you’re immaculate,
you’d lick your hand to remove a stray seed from your shirt.

I don’t want to hear you purr,
I want to lose your control,
I want cat-scratch and scream.

I want one heel lost,
and a hell of a lot more than one stray seed on your shirt,
I want fingers fumbling fastenings,
and digits duelling underthings,
and under things.

I want perfume that intoxicates,
stubble on your throat,
scotch exhaled over your ear,
and hands pinned.

I want dog chase cat around your hotel room,
I want you to give as good as you get,
bite for bite,
scratch for scratch.