Friday, April 12, 2013

Are you ready to hear my confessions?

I've got a new book out today and I'm SO excited about it. I'm also kind of nervous about it. See...this one is really personal. It's a collection of confessions, just like the title says. Some true, some based in truth, and some pure dirty fantasy. I'm putting myself out there way more with this book than with my previous releases.

You can find it in the usual places: Amazon and Smashwords

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!


Saturday, January 5, 2013

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

The Next Big Thing? Me...really? *blush*

I’m pretty damn tickled to have been tagged by Lady of the Loch to take part in the Next Big Thing blog hop. Honored and tickled, to be precise.

The Next Big Thing blog hop gives writers a chance to showcase their upcoming work. Today I’ll be talking about my current work-in-progress, a short story collection.

What is the title of your book?

Where did the idea for the book come from?
The thing about writing erotica is that it gets you thinking about sex a lot. I mean A LOT. And not just the usual daydreaming and fantasies about your current crush coming into the cafe where you're writing and pulling you into the bathroom and pinning you against the wall...his mouth on your neck, his hands reaching under your dress to... Shit. What were we talking about?

RIGHT! Sorry. Ahem *straightens skirt*. Anyway, so as I started to write more erotica, and think more deeply about my characters' sexuality and their motivations, that naturally led me to think more deeply about my own sexuality and my own motivations. I dug through the past and looked at it with fresh eyes, and made some surprising connections. Surprising to me, anyway. So this collection of confessions is a way for me to explore my sexuality and sexual history more directly than in the wholly fictional work I’ve done previously. For the most part I’m changing names and details to protect the guilty, maybe changing some circumstances and adding in more plot to make for a better story. And a couple will be complete fiction because fantasy is fun, but a fair chunk will just be straight-up confessional truth.

No, I won’t tell you which ones are true, but you’re welcome to guess.

What genre does your book fall under?

Will your book be self published or represented by an agency?
It will be self-published. Traditional publishing is great for many genres, but I really feel self-publishing is the way to go with erotica these days. (Yes, I've published traditionally in a different genre under a different name, so this opinion comes with some experience behind it. No, I can't tell you that other name. If I did, all my vibrators would turn to lead. It's true--it's in my contract. *kiss*)

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?
I’ve been working on it for a few months, since finishing my first erotic novella, Cass: Taken in the Stacks. I’ve got three stories written so far. I’m shooting for eight for the finished collection. I tend to write my first drafts quickly, so it will probably be done in a month. When will revisions be done? That's another question entirely.

Give a one sentence synopsis of your book:
A collection of explicit confessions: some true, some partly true, some completely made up.

What other works would you compare your book too?
That's a tough one. I will say I love the work of Jinx Jamison and Rachel Nixx, though my work doesn't explore BDSM as directly theirs does. I tend to be more of a sexual generalist. A bit of this, a bit of that. I like it rough, but you won't find a lot of props or traditional BDSM language and roles in my fiction. The power dynamic for me...and in my somewhat fluid.

Ah...that's the thing, though, isn't it? I just set off a bell in my own head with that one. So many of the stories I want to share in Confessions are about that power dynamic. All erotica is exploring that power dynamic in some way, isn't it?

Who or what inspired you to write this book?
 Oh I need to name names here? Terry, Rick, Jonah, Brian, Jonah again, Brian again, Nico, Mike... That guy on the train, that other guy in the cafe... And that guy in that band that one time who...


Definitely that guy in that band.

Is it hot in here?

What else might pique the reader’s interest?
Common sense and good marketing says I should have followed up the first novella in my Taken series with the next installment, but Confessions is haunting me, demanding I work on it first. So after Confessions is released, look for Rain: Taken by the Band to follow soon after. (Mmmmm.... Sex with strangers. Multiple strangers. And guitars.... sigh...)

Now I get to tag writers who I’m certain could be the "Next Big Thing." They’ll post about their own upcoming work next Wednesday. Do check them out! You’ll be glad you did.

Friday, November 30, 2012

In which M pushes his boundaries and I get finger-fucked

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

After two years together, I thought I had M pretty well figured out. I thought I knew his boundaries, the hard line he draws around his comfort zone. Well...tonight?

Holy shit.

I had a hot night of sitting around the apartment, writing smut in my yoga pants planned. He had to work at the shop until eight and then he was going to either come home or go out with the guys. But then he called me, said he wanted to go out with me and would I please come meet him at the shop please please baby please. Who wants to hear a grown man beg? Okay—some of you want to hear a grown man beg. Me? I only like to hear my own voice doing the begging. Fine. I gave in, said I would come out. “But if you’re dragging me out into the cold, I want some action while I’m out there,” I told him. When he’s being totally honest, M will tell you he gets off on fooling around in public almost as much as I do, but he gets way more nervous about it. If we pushed things as far as my fantasies go, we’d for sure get arrested. But we never push things that far. I guess he’s always a little afraid about how far I’m going to want to take things.

Anyway, he promised me we could play a little while we were out, so I swapped the yoga pants for something a little (a lot) more easy access and hopped the Q train into Manhattan to meet him at the shop.

What was I wearing? Of course you want to know, right? Let me set the scene. My tall black Frye harness boots, black thigh-high stockings, a flippy little gray schoolgirl skirt (with white cotton panties underneath because that’s ALWAYS the right answer when you’ve got a schoolgirl skirt on), a black t-shirt with a pretty low v. And my peacoat, because damnit it’s winter in New York. Nothing too over-the-top. I like to go subtle with my slutty. The subtle was the skirt with the wide hem so I could spread my legs as wide as I wanted. ( didn’t think of that, did you? Go with the overtly slutty tight mini skirt and you’ve got to hike the damn thing up practically to your waist to give your guy access to the goods. And then your ass is arrested or at least tossed out of the place for sure.)

So I get to the shop and cool my heels while the guys are finishing with the clean up and then J, another artist at the shop, says he’s going to take us to some place he knows out in Queens (and I’m thinking QUEENS? I came out into the cold all the way from Brooklyn because M promised me some fun and now I’m getting dragged out to Queens?!) But I went with it. Me and M, J, and then C and R, the other two guys from the shop, followed J out to Roosevelt. C and R both said their girlfriends would meet up with us when we got there so it was going to be a big-ass group. Which...okay...that’s actually a lot of fun, and I like all the guys from the shop and all us girls get along really well so... not the night I’d been expecting, but okay. That was fine.

J’s Colombian and he led us to this seriously sketchy Colombian bar/salsa club/restaurant/I don’t even know what. If there is a Colombian mob, they totally run that place. But the music was good and the drinks were cheap, and we settled into a big table in the back. It was pretty dark, too, so my hopes for some illicit public fun were somewhat buoyed.

Guys, I had no idea.

Again...I tell you...holy shit.

So we’re sitting there and talking and drinking. I’m sitting between M and J with my back to the wall, looking out at this crazy bar, gorgeous Colombian girls dancing with old men with creeper moustaches and fucking potted plants everywhere—not like fancy restaurant type plants—I mean like the spindly spider plants your aunt Alice keeps on her kitchen windowsill. That kind of thing. I’m just watching the people—I love to watch people—and sipping my beer, and then there’s M’s hand on my leg under the table, easing up my thigh. I bless my easily flipped-up skirt as his hand skims along my inner thigh and he starts to strum his fingers along the crotch of my panties so so lightly. This soft, teasing touch tracing up one side of my pussy and down the other with a fingertip, then all of his fingers dragging slowly right up the middle from bottom to top and down again and I’m getting wetter and wetter. I kiss M and tell him I’ll be right back. Go to the ladies room and take off my panties, getting a good laugh at how wet they already are. I go back to the table and drop the wadded-up panties in his lap and sit back down. The other guys see, of course, but they’ve been out with us before and I think they’re used to me.

Yeah. I thought I had it all figured out.

M’s hand goes back to my lap and I spread my legs and look out across the room and there’s an old man with a perfect view and he sees me. He nods his head to let me know he sees me and I smile because I don’t care. No—I do care. I WANT him to see me. There I am, no panties, spread wide and M working my clit in lazy circles. I mean LAZY circles. I start to wriggle a little, getting impatient. He laughs at me and looks at J and then I feel J’s hand on my leg under the table, J’s hand sliding along my thigh. Jesus christ. I look at M and then down at my lap and he sees J’s hand and he leans over and kisses me and says, “Is this okay? I thought you’d like it.”

Like I said, I thought I knew where M’s boundaries were, and I thought they were inflexible. I was wrong. Granted, he had (still has) some making up to do after the threesome debacle a while back. So this was his way of apologizing, I guess. (And yes, he also apologized by saying he was sorry. Over and over. But still.)

So I said yes. Okay...I think I actually said something like “holy shit, are you sure?” and then I leaned my head back against the wall and watched that old man watch me as M went back to work on my clit—but properly this time, and trust me after two years that boy is WELL trained as to what my clit likes—and J... This blows my mind. He’s a great guy. I’ve known him almost as long as I’ve known M. He’s super sweet. He’s totally cute. But I never thought of him in a sexual way. It just never occurred to me. And not just because he’s M’s good friend. Believe me, I’ve harbored plenty of fantasies about some of his other friends. But J... He slipped right under my radar. Maybe that’s why M chose him. Maybe that was less threatening.

So M was circling my clit (okay, should we be precise in case you and I ever find ourselves in a situation where you need to get me off? I can’t handle direct pressure to my clit until the very end. He was circling just above my clit, pressing the hood into my pubic bone. THAT is how you get Jami off, my friends.) and J was stroking my inner thighs and brushing against my pussy lips and his He’s got great hands, great touch. Just the simplest touching along my thighs and I was desperate DESPERATE to have him touch me more. And then his fingers slide toward my pussy, then tease the opening and then he’s got two fingers inside me.

HOLY SHIT was that old man across the room getting an eyeful.

M pulls me toward him and holds me against his chest with his free arm, kissing me and whispering in my ear and J is pumping those fingers into me, starting off slow and gentle but then he’s building and building, curling his fingers just right to hit my g-spot. We’re not even trying to hide it anymore and I look at C and R who’re practically drooling across the table from us and I kind of stammer out, “Your girlfriends aren’t coming, are they?” which totally cracks everyone up and then either C or R is like, “No, just you,” which was also pretty hilarious at the time and I look up at J and he’s looking at me like he wants to bend me over the table and fuck me and as soon as I get that image in my head—my chest against the wooden table, J rearing up over me all big and sweaty while M and the rest of the bar looks on—I came. I came hard and M covered my mouth as I came because I can get kind of loud but he covered my nose too and it was hard to breathe and that made me come even harder and... Jesus Christ.

And then M dragged me into the bathroom and bent me over the sink and fucked me until I thought we’d rip the plumbing right out of the wall. I watched the two of us in the mirror, all flushed cheeks and bright eyes and it was... It was just good. We were right there, the two of us, totally together in it.

It was a setup. The whole thing was a setup by M. To give me a little bit of what I’ve been wanting. A fantasy of mine that he doesn’t share, but he figured out how far he could go comfortably—and then went just a little farther than that. For me. And he surprised himself by how hot it got him. He thought it would be hard to watch J touch me like that, but he said once it started it wasn’t hard at all.

When we came out of the bathroom, C and R’s girlfriends were there and they pulled me aside and R’s girl was like, “These guys just told us some crazy shit about you, girl.” And she thought they were lying. I told them what happened and R’s girl looked at me like I was crazy but I recognized the look on C’s girlfriend’s face. Jealous. She was totally jealous.

Now it’s crazy late. M and I came home and made love, sweet and slow this time. He’s asleep. He’s got to work tomorrow and no one wants a sleep-deprived tattooist working on them. Me? I’m too excited to sleep. I keep replaying it all in my mind. I think I’ll be coming here to read this blog post again and again for quite a while.

I wonder how far we’ll end up taking things...

Before he fell asleep tonight, M said, “I love you, you crazy fucking slut. I want to marry you.”

And I totally melted. Because I am a crazy fucking slut. And he knows that. And he loves me.

(Don’t get too excited. We talk about marriage from time to time. It wasn’t a proposal.)

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Daddy Issues

Guys! I've got a hot new story up on Amazon. Spanking, erotic tension, daddy issues for DAYS. Fun for the whole family!

(okay, maybe not the WHOLE family. Fun for YOU, you dirty thing. Go check it out.)

Saturday, November 10, 2012

To Swing or not to Swing?

I'm tucked into my usual Saturday spot, the worn old armchair in the corner of the tattoo shop where my boyfriend, M, works. Got my laptop, got my 16oz Americano. This is one of my favorite writing spots. I sit here and let the buzz of the tattoo machines and the smell of A&D lull me in to that good sunk-in fiction zone where the words flow best.

Today? I can't write worth a damn today. I was up most of the night crying on the phone with my beloved Rachel. She's the best. I hope each of you has a Rachel in your lives to sit with you while you lose your shit at 2 in the morning.

See...M and I had a threesome last night. The second one of our two-year relationship. The first was just last week, with the same girl. If you follow me on twitter you know the score. You're maybe shaking your head, starting to suspect what happened, knowing I brought this on myself.

I'm not new to three-ways but I'm new to them as part of a serious relationship. I'm new to watching the man I love stick his cock into another woman. Yes, I'm aware that that's exactly what I signed up for. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm angry with myself.

If I'm being ungenerous I might say this all sprang from greed. I have an amazing boyfriend who I love. We have great sex. GREAT sex. But for most of the time we've been together that hasn't felt like enough. I get crushes on other people--mostly men. Crushes are normal and healthy. I know that. But I get crushes and go mad with wanting to act on them. I never did, but I had several close calls. I don't want to cheat on M. He deserves better than that. So finally the other week I told him what was going on. I told him that I'd been seriously considering hooking up with a guy at work, but that I didn't. I told him that I love him, I want him, I want to be with him, but I need to be with other people sometimes. Just for sex. Just to feel new flesh moving against me. Just once in a while. It took a lot of talking, some tears from both of us, and the solution we came up with was that we would take on an occasional playmate. Satisfy my need for novelty but make it part of our play together. We agreed that neither of us could handle an open relationship--we would get too jealous. We would each need to be a part of whatever the other is doing.

Sounds good in theory, right?

He couldn't get with the idea of another man in our bed. It had to be another woman. What I was really craving was another man, though. A new man's sounds and smells, a new cock, a new pair of hands gripping my hips... In my hottest fantasies I'm always taken by a stranger. It's the new, the unknown that I'm missing, maybe.

But fine. I like sex with girls just fine. I mean, there's no replacement for a good hard cock for me so I'd never want to just be with a woman, but a hot night with a soft girl every now and then? Who would say no to that?

So we had a plan. I was psyched. So was M. He kind of won the jackpot, right? His girlfriend practically begging for a three-way and she's cool with limiting it to MFF?

We hooked up with a woman we both liked. A friend of a friend. She's flirted with me for ages and we agreed on her right away. We took her out for drinks, told her what we were after, and she said yes. I was so scared to ask, but she said yes right away. We brought her home. We had a blast.

Here's what I realized this morning. The first time, M and S were mostly focused on me. It was mostly me and S, with M lending some encouragement and a helping hand or two, and then me and M with S doing the same. She and M kissed and touched. She gave him head. But they didn't fuck. I didn't consider that when I was congratulating myself for how well it went and how evolved and mature we all were.

Last night was different. It started off great. Light and fun. Me and S all tangled up, that good soft springy feel of girl flesh. M there with us, talking to us, telling us what to do to each other. It was hot. I was having a blast. Then something shifted. I can't quite pinpoint the moment. S pulled M in for a kiss and I guess that's when the balance shifted. I'll spare you (myself) the blow-by-blow replay but basically I ended up sitting huddled up in the corner on my own bed, watching M and S fuck, all attempts by me to join in kind of brushed aside.

I know. I should have spoken up right then. I should have stopped it. I was getting hurt and no one is supposed to he harmed by this. I was harmed. I didn't stop it. I watched them fuck. I watched them and they were closed off to me. I was forgotten.

He came inside her. A condom, of course, but he was inside her when he came and that killed me.

I pretended everything was fine (because I'm an idiot sometimes). I needed to process it, to understand what happened and what I was feeling. That's what I'm doing here. I never really know what I think until I write it down.

We put S in a livery cab. M kissed me and fell asleep, sated. I sat up and cried. And turned to Twitter for comfort. How funny is that? I feel like by carving out a space on twitter and now here in this blog, a safe space that's separate from my real name, I can be honest. I can really explore what I think. What's going on in my head.

So...I need to talk to M. We can't see S again. I know that much. I don't think I want another three-way. The potential for a third wheel is too much. So is the answer another couple so things are more balanced? Or to just dance with who I came to the dance with and be satisfied with the good man I've already got?

I don't know. Have you been through this? What do I do? So, so open to your thoughts. I'm leaning toward another couple but now I'm feeling gun-shy.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Now available!

I am so excited to share this with you!

Cass: Taken in the Stacks, the first novella in my Red Bank Fantasy series, is now available on Amazon.