Wednesday, August 29, 2012

New Anthology! Too Fast For Love: Opportunist Encounters

Ten hot stories about unforgettable, no strings encounters.Original erotica from Rachel Kramer Bussel, Lolita Lopez, Sommer Marsden, Rose de Fer, Elizabeth Coldwell and many more.

A businessman meets a younger woman in a bar and is told tales he will never forget …

A married couple invites a younger man into their bed and takes sex to a whole new level …

A dress fitting develops into a fast, furious and forbidden tryst …

Download now: £0.99 from Mischief Books

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Call for Submissions/Promo Op: Passionate Cooks

Just a quickie post because the deadline is looming, but All Romance currently has a call out for recipes to include in their upcoming cookbook.  This is a promotional opportunity for authors who have at least one book for sale at ARe.

Here's more info from the site:

Open Submissions Call – Wanted: Passionate Cooks
Deadline – September 1

All Romance eBooks, LLC will be releasing a complementary cookbook during the month of October featuring fabulous recipes from today’s hottest romance authors.

If one of your recipes is selected, it will appear in the work along with your Bio and a link to your website and ARe Author Page. This book will be highly publicized via ARe’s social media outlets, websites, and newsletter as well as other avenues such as Contributing authors will also have a chance to take part in other promotional activities.

In order to participate you must:
1. Be a published Romance or Erotica Author (traditional, small press, self-published, etc.)
2. Have at least 1 work available for sale on

Interested? We hope so!
Click here to view our super simple Submission Guidelines!

Monday, August 27, 2012

The City Sucked My Soul (and authors gave it back)

I've written on many occasions about how becoming an author made me a better person.  To recap, once upon a time I worked in business.  I had an office job.  I was promoted too fast for my own good (or anybody else's, for that matter) and by my late twenties had far more responsibility than I wanted or deserved.

It was a weird time.  I wasn't happy and I wasn't nice.  Those who have known me all my life would  tell you I've always had a brusque personality (can you believe it?), but working downtown and dealing with asshole clients brought out the worst in me.

Thankfully, my company's Toronto office was closed down by our American Overlords (all hail!) and I was out of a job.  That was another weird time, because my bosses wanted to "sell" me (in a political sense) to colleagues or competitors at other organizations.  "Just MEET with him, meet with her, see what they've got to offer."

But nobody in business could buy me back that slice of soul I'd abandoned to the city. Only the writing community could do that.

Just yesterday, I realized how huge a role "the city" played in my soul-sucking.  I'd blamed business, work, clients, but they were only a piece of the puzzle.  The city is the landscape of soul-sucking.

I walk a lot, largely because I don't have a car and public transit brings out my ragefulness if I'm not having a particularly zen day.  So I walk, far and wide.  But I usually avoid Yonge Street.

Yonge is a main street here in Toronto that runs North/South, pretty much dividing the city in two.  It spans the entire length of Toronto and then some.  It's a really long road, and it's many things to many people.  Mid-town it's swanky, uptown it's "Young and Eligible" (a play on the intersection Yonge and Eglinton, where the single yuppies live), but right downtown it's scuzz.

Yes, it's tourist central--this is where the Eaton's Centre is located--but that doesn't reduce the Jerry Springerness of the area.  Actually, I don't want to get snarky because I'm talking about serious issues here.  During my walk to BuskerFest (North America's largest festival of busking), I encountered so much homelessness and mental illness on the city streets that I wondered how I used to navigate these paths every day without my heart tearing in half.

Because it's always been like this.  Whether homelessness stats are up in the city, I'm really not sure.  But I remember a time when I blocked it out.  I remember a time when a guy screaming, "Give me a fucking quarter you fucking bitch!" was just something you walked by without FEELING it.

When I began writing professionally, everybody in the industry was so NICE to me.  I couldn't believe it.  Other authors were helpful, and their pleasant encouragement touched me, right to my very heart.  They made me want to be kind to other people, not just authors, but real people I see every day.  I started looking homeless people in the eye instead ignoring them, acknowledging their personhood and existence.  It started hurting my heart when I saw other people doing what I used to do, just walking by, tuning it out.

Yesterday, there was a momentary shift in me.  Yonge Street did the trick.  The poverty and illness (and fervent religiosity) overwhelmed me to the point where I slipped back into that zone other urbanites have no doubt lived in: you stop seeing people, stop hearing their pleas.  They stop existing.  It's a protective place.

I'd like to think our hearts can only handle so much sorrow, but it has to do with noise as well.  At Yonge and College, I had 3 dudes with leaflets telling me I was going to hell while and elderly woman asked me for change.  All at the same time.  When 4 different people are all at you for something, it's hard not to shut down, especially when you know you're going to take 2 steps forward and the same thing's going to happen all over again.

I shut down yesterday.  I stopped seeing human suffering, stopped acknowledging human beings.  I think it was only a temporary measure on the part of my psyche, but I understand now how I managed to shut down (emotionally) so completely when I worked in that environment every day.

I don't know how many of you are country mice and how many are city mice, but I'd love to hear your perspectives.  I'd especially love to hear comments from people who grew up in smaller communities, about their experiences with large urban centres.

Thanks for being my stand-in therapists, everybody.
Have a great Monday.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

I Promised You Free Stuff

And all week, I've delivered.  But wait... there's more!

Until August 27th, 2012 (that's Monday), a new BDSM anthology called Cream of the Crop: Disciplined Sex is available FREE at Amazon.

Here's what it's all about:

An erotic collection of short stories by best-selling authors with a central theme of BDSM.

A riding crop is a potent symbol of mastery and dominance over the powerful natural force of a magnificent steed between your legs. To many it also signifies surrendering to sexual pleasure.

In this collection of 13 stories, the erotic action begins when, by chance, someone finds a riding crop that has been left in public, bearing a message asking them to use it to explore their BDSM desires before detailing their exploits in an email to an anonymous account, then passing on the crop so the pleasure can begin all over again…

A couple who discover the crop on a Eurostar train find themselves transported back to the time of Catherine the Great for a thrilling afternoon of discipline in the country. A pair of office girls use the implement as their ticket to a munch, where their need to surrender can be explored to the full, while the crop also provides the ideal tool for a truly repentant woman to be punished for a night of passion with her ex.

If you found the crop, what would you do – and where would you let the pleasure lead you?

Get it while it's FREE!     

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

FREE EROTIC EBOOK: Backstage Rider (Limited Time Only)

August 22-26, 2012 a hot little number called Backstage Rider is available for FREE at Amazon!

An Xcite Books collection of five erotic stories with mixed Cougar and Jackals themes.

Backstage Rider

Twenty years ago Clemmy was the hot guitar-playing chick who fronted her own band. Now those days are a memory, as she teaches plank-spanking would-be rock stars how to play. Then 19-year-old Scotty, her best pupil, puts her on the guest list for his band’s first big gig, where they cover one of her famous numbers. Afterwards Clemmy goes backstage where she shows Scotty how real rock stars party …

Separation Anxieties

When Judy brings Alyssa home from a lesbian club, the last thing she expects to find in her very own living room is a young guy, Tipton, kneeling between her husband’s legs. Yes, Judy and Cliff are separated. Yes, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t involve himself with another person. Even so, the unexpected sight gets Judy rather more riled up than she’d like. She isn’t jealous, is she? No, of course not, and to prove it, she’ll seduce Alyssa right in front Tipton and Cliff.

The Gentleman

Deborah has a fancy for an older man – and is furious when he snubs her, saying she is too young for him. She is determined to have him and the chase begins – and the lessons she’ll learn before it concludes will have a sting in the tail…

Trophy Wife

Britta is 34, and has everything – or so it seems. Living in loveless luxury, she is tormented by her husband’s cheating ways. Then she attracts the attention of Colton, a 19-year-old parking valet. Will she resist temptation or embrace it?

Instructions for Proper Delivery

Student Carl has a part-time job delivering groceries, and the mysterious widow Mrs Jouette proves to be a very sensual customer indeed. He’s working to pay his way through college, but the hands-on erotic tutelage she provides is priceless…

These stories also appear in Cougars and Jackals published by Xcite Books.

Grab it NOW:

Monday, August 20, 2012

FREE READ: Prude's Failsafe Advice for Eating Ass (lesbian anilingus erotica)

*** Update: Elementary, My Dear Kathryn is now available as Kathryn's Kinky from Amazon|
Amazon UK|
Amazon Canada|
Amazon Australia| ***

If I learned one thing after my lesbian anal fetish ebook Elementary, My Dear Kathryn was taken off the shelves by All Romance Ebooks, it's that a lot of readers get really excited about lesbian anal fetish erotica!

So I started looking around my hard drive, wondering what I could publish online for readers to gobble up for free.

The story I came across was Prude's Failsafe Advice for Eating Ass.

This lesbian anilingus "confession" was originally published in Secret Confessions: 36 Erotic Encounters.  If you love reading about pretty girls licking ass, check it out:

Prude's Failsafe Advice for Eating Ass

by Giselle Renarde

For a lot of years, I wouldn’t let anyone near my ass. Gloria changed me.

Gloria was more adventurous in bed than anyone I’d ever been with, and her encouragement boosted my confidence. When she looked at me naked, I never felt ashamed. When she trailed those experienced fingers of hers down my ass crack, I let her. I let her bend me over the bed and spread my cheeks wide. She was looking at it. Right at it. Was it clean? My heart beat fast and my breath caught in my lungs as I waited for her to make her move. The idea of my woman staring at my hole as it puckered and grasped made my head spin.

When Gloria circled the pad of her finger around my clutching asshole, I arched my back and dropped my head to the mattress. It was such a new sensation, nothing like getting my clit or my nipples played with. My body seemed to suck at Gloria’s finger, beckoning it inside. She spit down my ass crack and I trembled. The liquid cooled as it slid toward my hole, and as soon as it got there Gloria forced her finger inside.

It didn’t hurt like I thought it would. I’m not sure exactly what I’d expected or what my apprehensions were, but I felt those unnamed anxieties dissipate as my girl fingered my ass. She spit again, and the sound, the sensation, made me feel dirty in the best possible way. Her finger swirled inside of me, around and around, in and out in a lazy thrusting motion.

Her finger emerged, and suddenly her breath was hot on my hole.

I nearly jumped off the bed, swinging around to look at my girl. “What are you doing?” I asked her. In the bedroom mirror, my eyes were wide, and their shock surprised me almost as much as what Gloria was about to do.

“You’ll like it,” she assured me. “Just let me.”

At first, I felt confused. I thought I knew what she was proposing, but I wasn’t sure. “Were you going to…” I swallowed hard. “Were you going to lick it?”

She smiled, smoothing her cheek against the round globe of my ass. She looked so beautiful when she did that, her teeth gleaming white between those sensuous pink lips. When she bit my butt, I shrieked and then giggled. Her gaze was downy, but pleading. How could I saw no?

“Isn’t it gross?” I asked. “I know, I know, I’m a prude.”

The idea of her tongue coming in contact with my asshole made me squirm. What if she tasted…

“Do you have any condoms?” she asked me.

Strangely enough, I did—flavoured ones I’d picked up from the student union back in the day. She tore one from its packet and sliced it lengthwise with a pair of scissors.

“What are you doing?” I asked her.

She answered by nudging the flat red raspberry-flavoured latex between my cheeks, pulling it taut. When she leaned in, the answer became obvious: she was going to eat my ass the prudish way, the only way I’d be comfortable. Gloria knew me better than anyone.

Holding the condom flush to my ass, she licked up and down my crack, teasing me, just flickering her tongue ever-so-lightly over my hole. I turned to watch, and the sight of her pretty face between my cheeks made me shiver. My asshole was going crazy now from wanting, and it puckered in anticipation of something more.

“Lick it,” I begged her. “God, Gloria, please lick my ass.” Through the condom. I hoped that would go without saying.

With a giggle and a growl, Gloria went at my hole like crazy. She licked it up and down, then swirled around in circles. She was forceful about it, too. When she thrust her tongue into my ass, my soul just about jumped from my body. I watched her do it, and still I was in disbelief. If it wasn’t for that slip of latex separating her from me, I’d never have let her do this. I didn’t mind so much, though, knowing she was tasting raspberry and not me.

Gloria made happy noises as she lunged at my ass, fucking me with her tongue. It felt fat inside me, with far more girth than her finger. As she went at me, I reached for my clit and found it engorged, my pussy dripping with juice.

I rubbed myself off while Gloria taunted my asshole, eating it hard and fast. She made me wild. I bucked against her face, against my fingers on my clit. I was so close, so close to that edge, and I knew she could put me over. She always did. Always.

Round and round in tight circles she licked my clutching asshole. Through the latex, she sucked my ass. I’d never felt anything like it. I scoured my clit with my fingers, coaxing out that orgasm sitting like a buzzing weight in my belly. When Gloria stuck her tongue inside my ass and just plain shook her face between my cheeks, I let came hard, shrieking against the mattress, shouting her name.

I’d always been iffy on ass play before Gloria insisted. I’m glad she did. Now I know how amazing it feels when a girl tongues your hole, even if it is through a layer of latex. And, because I love giving every bit as much as I love getting, I went out and bought more flavoured condoms. They work wonders when I spread my girl’s cheeks, shove my face against her crack, and lick her puckered little hole until she begs for mercy.


Thursday, August 16, 2012

FREE READ: My Reluctant Spank Daddy

I haven't posted a free read here at Donuts and Desires in some time, but that's all going to change today.  I bring you a confession-style story from my compilation "Secret Confessions: 36 Erotic Encounters" called My Reluctant Spank Daddy.   Older man, younger woman, spanking in the shower. Oh yeah!

My Reluctant Spank Daddy
by Giselle Renarde

My husband of four years has never been comfortable with our age gap.  I’m thirty-seven.  He just turned sixty.  Frank has never admitted his uneasiness about the age differential, but I could always tell it was something that bothered him.  In the bedroom, there were some things he simply refused to do. 
It’s no secret that I love being spanked.  When I was in my twenties, I held on to a few boyfriends way too long just because they were so damn good at spanking me.  And it wasn’t just the feeling of their hands smacking my ass that got me off, though sensation was a big part of it, obviously.  It wasn’t even the shade of crimson my cheeks turned when they’d been spanked to perfection, though that was a factor as well. 
Best of all, I loved the lead-up to a spanking.  I loved the words.  I really got off on being told what I’d done to deserve such treatment.  Maybe I’d left my clothes on the floor like a grubby teenager.  Maybe I hadn’t turned off the lights after leaving a room.  Maybe I’d forgotten to take out the garbage when it was my turn.  There was always a reason for the spankings, and that’s what I loved to hear.
My sweet husband Frank wouldn’t go for it.  Any of it.  He wouldn’t spank me for any reason, and he wouldn’t even spank me for no reason.  He wouldn’t spank me at all, and I knew the age difference was to blame.  When we’re out in public, people often mistake Frank and I for father and daughter.  It’s an easy mistake.  I’m young enough to be his daughter, and we even look fairly similar.  It doesn’t bother me.  I’ve come to expect it, but it’s always troubled Frank.
He brought his anxieties into the bedroom right from the start.  Sure, he’d fuck me.  He never had any problem with that.  He’d watch me from above while I sucked his cock in the shower—that was always his favourite.  I think he enjoyed watching me sputter as the water and soap mingled in my throat.  Then he’d pull me up onto my feet and spin me around and fuck me from behind.
Frank always made me come harder than any other man.  Still, when you love something, it’s not so easily forgotten.  Frank could make me come forty times in a day and I’d still miss my spankings.   
He didn’t have to tell me why he felt weird about it, and why his response to my request was always an outright no.  He found the idea of himself in the fatherly role unsettling.  To Frank, spankings would put me in the underling’s position in our relationship.  One day I just told him outright that, hell, I would always occupy that place!  I was nearly thirty years younger than him!  I loved him and I was attracted to him, and I learned a hell of a lot from having him in my life.  If we couldn’t play with the difference in our ages, it would always be looming over us, and I didn’t want that.
About a week after that conversation, Frank came home from the dollar store with something incredible: it was for the shower, a back scrubber with bristles on one side and a hand shape made from hard plastic on the other.  He joked about it, saying that’s what they used to warn would happen if you masturbated—you’d grow hair on the palm of your hand.  When we’d both finished laughing, his demeanour turned serious and he told me to get in the shower.
I wasted no time.  I hopped right in.
By the time Frank entered the bathroom, I was already naked and soaped up under the flow of warm water.  He stripped and came in after me, with his hand in hand.  I watched him smack the plastic against his palm before telling me to turn to the side.  The fierce look in his eye stayed with me even as I pressed my tits against the tile.
Frank’s body had been blocking the shower flow, and he passed from my left side to my right so it would fall on me again.  He must have wanted to watch the water recoil off my flesh as he brought that big brush down against my bottom.  His intentions were obvious, and when he couldn’t see me, I smiled.
I asked Frank if he was going to spank me and he said, “You bet your ass I’m going to spank you.”  I asked him what I’d done to warrant it and he said, “You told me something I should have known—that you’re nearly thirty years my junior and my job is to keep you in check.” 
It was a bit of a stretch as far as causes for punishment went, but I was just happy my husband was finally going to whoop my little white ass.  “So keep me in check,” I said to him.  “Show me who’s in charge.”
And, boy, did he ever!  I turned my head to watch as he brought the hand-shaped paddle brush down against my pretty cheeks.  He struck them both at once, right along my ass crack.  Water surged up off my skin in healthy droplets, and my pussy clenched at the long-missed sensation.
Frank turned me to the side so the shower was over my head and spilling down my back.  He spanked my left cheek and then my right before I even got the chance to turn around, but I could feel the sizzle against my skin and the water ricocheting off my ass.
When I turned to look into his eyes, I found Frank’s gaze firmly fixed on my ass.  That’s when I knew he’d fallen in lust with spanking.  He gave it to me from below, and then again from above.  Water splashed everywhere.  He spanked my thighs, inside and out.  And then he dropped the paddle-brush and went at my ass with nothing but his bare hands.
This was exactly what I’d been waiting for.  Frank called me his naughty girl.  He wrapped an arm around my chest and squeezed my tits while he smacked me again and again.  Every strike landed in the same spot.  I was in heaven, but it hurt like hell.  It was such a pang I even tried hopping out of his grasp like a rabbit from a trap, but Frank had me cornered in the shower.  Even the falling water sizzled against my skin.  I squirmed and squealed as he kept at me, but my man had got a taste for spanking and nothing would stop him now. 
Over the course of one shower, Frank bombarded me with four lost years of spankings.  His deep voice echoed off the tile when he growled, “Who’s your spank daddy?”
Like a good little girl, I told him, “You are.”

The End

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Smut in MY City (and your city, too, perhaps)

Today the table of contents was announced for a smoking upcoming anthology called Smut in the City, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.  My lesbian bondage/spanking/ice play story Saturday on a Tuesday is listed there, see?


Yeah, baby! All-star line-up, right?  My story takes place in Toronto, since I'm firmly rooted here (much like a weed, yes).  How's about I shows you the blurb for Sat on a Tues now, and share an excerpt when the book comes out?

Junior lawyer Liddy's ex-girlfriend called her a Saturday Night Lesbian--a woman who acts straight during the week and only gives in to temptation at the weekend.  When Gemma, a partner at the firm, finds the young woman in the lunchroom after hours, she uses her hand, her belt, and a tray of ice cubes to help Liddy prove she can get crazy any night of the week. 

For more info about Smut in the City, check out the devoted website:

Sunday, August 12, 2012

#SixSunday Cougars and Jackals: Experience Comes With Age

...or should I say experience COMES with age?  Huh?  Wink-wink-nudge-nudge...

It's been a big week for me, antho-wise.  My work appears in three new anthologies: Lover Unexpected: Manlove Edition, Lover Unexpected: Sappho Edition, and this one--Cougars and Jackals, coming to you from none other than Xcite ebooks.

I wrote a comedy called "Separation Anxieties" for this book.  Kind of a swaperooni: separated husband and wife trying to make each other jealous by getting down and dirty with a couple of young'uns.  Oh, by the way, the husband teams up with a dude he finds online and the wife with a young woman she picks up at a lesbar.  So, that's always fun.

Here's 6 sentences from "Separation Anxieties"

“Oh my God!” Alyssa was standing against the doorjamb, laughing her tight little ass off. “Which one is your husband?”

Both men looked up in that moment, and the expression of shock on Cliff’s face was absolutely priceless.

“The fatter, older one,” Judy said, pointing to the naked man with the twink between his legs. “The other I’ve never seen before in my life.”

Heh.  You can read this and a whole bunch of other older/younger stories in Cougars and Jackals (which, I gotta say, is priced ridiculously low. I'm not sure how long that's going to last):

Happy Sunday!

Saturday, August 11, 2012

I Probably Shouldn't Say This...

...but McDonald's and I have something in common.

I only go to McDonald's for one reason: free coffee.  I don't buy anything there.  I haven't eaten at McDonald's in almost 20 years.  But every time they have their "free coffee" offer, I'm the first one in line.

The other day, while I was ordering my free coffee from the cute girl who always flirts with me (swear to god!) I started wondering if they mind people like me.  It's not like the cashiers work on commission.  Do they care that I'm ordering one free coffee and that's it?  Do they think I'm cheap?  Am I annoying them?

I can't answer those questions.  McDonald's staff is always very pleasant with me (especially flirty girl), so I have no idea if they mind me getting something for nothing.

What I DO know is that when I offer a product for free, I want everybody to take advantage.  I'm not talking about piracy and people stealing my books, of course--writing is my livelihood, and the more people steal my work, the harder it is to pay my rent. (And, trust me, as a full-time writer, paying my rent is hard enough as it is!)

I'm talking about free stuff like my ebook 6 Erotic Shorts.  That mini-antho is free because I want readers to have it.  It's available for everyone.  It's there for you, at a variety of e-tailers.  I'm not sitting here thinking you're cheap if you download it.  That book, and any other book I might offer for free, is a gift to readers.  From me to you.

If I were to guess, McDonald's free coffee marketing technique probably assumes that some of the people who pick up a freebie will get a taste for it and come back again to buy it at full price. I haven't done that yet, but who knows?  Maybe one day I will.

Maybe some of the readers who pick up a free copy of 6 Erotic Shorts will go on to buy more of my books.  Maybe not.  It doesn't worry me either way.

Download a copy of 6 Erotic Shorts.  Enjoy it.  I'm not judging you for wanting something for nothing.  In fact, I wholly appreciate it.

It's available from All Romance:
& other retailers.

Thanks, friends!

Friday, August 10, 2012

New Anthology! Lover Unexpected: Sappho Edition

Yesterday I announced a new friends-become-lovers anthology called Lover Unexpected: Manlove Edition.  That one's already a bestseller at ARe, Amazon, and Amazon UK.

Well, today its lesbian counterpart hits the market, and I am so excited about this book.  I really love my story "Marilyn in the Middle," about a woman whose best friend and long-term crush is obsessed with Marilyn Monroe.

Jasmine's tired of playing second fiddle to a dead woman, but she's so in love with her best friend Innes that she doesn't have much choice.  Jasmine just has to deal with Innes's obsession with Marilyn Monroe.  There are Marilyn Monroe posters and framed photos all over Innes's walls.  Innes has even decided to dye her hair platinum blonde to be more like the object of her affection.  When Innes asks if Jasmine will do the honours, of course she agrees.  But can Jasmine colour her dearest friend's hair without giving in to temptation, or will Innes's flimsy robe and alluring air put her over the edge?

Here's an excerpt from "Marilyn in the Middle": 

Innes caught me staring. 

 I couldn’t help it, really. There was just so much to look at. 

“She’s gorgeous, don’t you think?” Innes following my gaze to the huge cluster of Marilyn Monroe prints hanging over her TV. “If you ask me, she’s the most desirable woman there ever was.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” I said, even though I could have. 

I could have said, “I know one woman who’s miles more beautiful than Marilyn Monroe.” 

Innes would have looked at me funny and hesitated before asking, “Who?” 

Then I’d move in so close she would flinch. I’d wrap my arms around her curvy middle and say, “You, Innes. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on.” 

I would kiss her, then--our first kiss, at long last! Whether she'd kiss me back or pull away I really wasn't sure. That's what had held me back all these years. To me, a kiss was a point of no return. From there, a relationship began or a friendship ended. If I were to kiss Innes, everything would change. For better or for worse.
Lover Unexpected: Sappho Edition is now available from Evernight Publishing, All Romance, Amazon, Rainbow Ebooks, and more!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Tell Me Again Why I'm A Sinner?

I stole this from Boy Culture... and you can steal it too!  Seriously. Do it.  Steal it now.  Put it on your blog for all to see!  Mwahahahaha! (Okay, stealing with permission isn't really stealing, I guess...)

Click the image to make it bigger (dirté!)
From HERE, with permission.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

New Anthology! Lover Unexpected: Manlove Edition

I'm not exactly known for my gay fiction, but after the success of Wedding Heat: Skinny Dipping (and, more recently, Wedding Heat: Hole In One), I wanted to write more.  So I wrote up a story called "Gypsy Psychics Can't Be Wrong" and submitted it to this anthology from Evernight Publishing called Lover Unexpected: Manlove Edition.  Lucky me--my story was selected!

This anthology really appealed to me because the concept behind it was friends becoming lovers.  That gets me every time.  I love that sort of plotline, so my story is about a guy, Marty, who can't see what's right in front of him: his coworker Cameron, who is always there... especially when Marty's beloved grandmother dies and he needs a shoulder to cry on.

Marty's more than a little surprised when the gypsy psychic who hangs out between the liquor store and flower shop says that somebody loves him.  Who could it be?  Marty's got no prospects.  Even the girls at work take no interest in him or his coworker buddy Cameron. Still, every time he sees the gypsy, she insists he's more loved than he knows.

When Marty's beloved grandmother dies, Cameron is the only person from work who shows up at the funeral.  Marty tries to be a pillar for his mother and aunt, but all he wants to do is join his friend in the back row and cry in Cameron's arms.  Afterwards, Cameron takes care of him, feeding him homemade soup and being the best friend Marty could ever imagine.  Still, he doesn't see it coming when Cameron kisses him.  After all the time they've been close friends, is it really such a shock?

Here's an excerpt:

“She didn’t tell anyone she was sick.”  Marty set his soup spoon down.  His throat blazed, and he could feel his lower lips trembling.  “Nobody knew.  It didn’t show.  She seemed…”
The tears that had waited all day got their release, and Cameron leapt from his chair to launch himself at Marty.  Finally, someone to cling to!  Finally it was Marty’s turn to cry and be comforted.
When Cameron’s arms encompassed him fully, he latched on, clawing at the wool sweater his friend had changed in to after the funeral.  Marty was still wearing his dress pants and button-down shirt, and he suddenly felt suffocated by them.  He’d have torn them off if he didn’t think that might freak Cameron out.
“Hey, what’s with all the tears?” Cameron said gently, when Marty’s sobs had died down.  “What, are you trying to tell me my soup needs more salt, so you’re crying into it?”
Marty laughed.  He couldn’t help himself.  It was a stupid joke, the kind of thing his dad might say, but right now it was funny.  Cameron was bending awkwardly at his side, leaning one elbow on the table, and Marty arched up to hook his chin over his best friend’s shoulder. 
He was about to say thank you when Cameron’s head turned.  It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Cameron’s face was so close to Marty’s—right there, really close—and then his lips… Cameron’s lips… 

The anthology is now available from Evernight Publishing.  Look for it soon at other e-tailers.

(With 10 M/M erotic love stories between 5,000 and 10,000 words each, it's a really good deal!  Just sayin'...)

Here's the buy link:


Call for Submissions: Active Duty - Fiery Gay Military Erotica

Hello writers!
This call came to me from super-cool editor Niel Plakcy, with an invitation to share with other erotica writers.  That's you, right?  Don't you write uber-hot, sexy-romantic gay fiction?  Sure you do!  Here's the call:

Call for Submissions: Active Duty - Fiery Gay Military Erotica

Call this book “The Joy of Military Sex” – with the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, the military is changing, and there’s no more need for gay servicemen to stay in the closet. The editor of Hard Hats, Beach Bums and The Handsome Prince is looking for erotically-charged stories that reflect the new openness among military personnel.

 There’s no more need for furtive encounters in restrooms, no more angst about the loss of a career for a single indiscretion. Instead, consider the supply clerk who displays a rainbow flag discreetly on his desk. The lieutenant who can now march in a pride parade in his dress whites. The drill sergeant who no longer has to tolerate anti-gay epithets.

What’s sex like when jarheads, bird colonels and platoon daddies don’t have to hide any more? When medics, jet jockys, and PFCs can be proud of their military service? Unleash those torrid fantasies and turn them into hot stories!

Story length:  3,000 – 5,000 words
Deadline:  December 1, 2012
Publication Date:  Fall, 2014
Payment:  $60.00 per story, payable on publication, plus 1 copy of the book

You may forward this call to other erotica writers you know. Submit your story to Neil Plakcy at as a MS word attachment.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Cheeky Spanking Stories: Review Copies Available

It's a holiday here (I'm not sure which holiday it is--we always just called it "Civic Holiday" growing up, which corresponds to Caribana weekend in Toronto) so it's been kind of a lost day for me. Lots of family stuff.  Family stuff seems to be taking over as older relatives require more care and attention... but that's a story for another day.

Quickly, I just want to mention I got an email from everybody's favourite cupcake Rachel Kramer Bussel about an upcoming anthology called "Cheeky Spanking Stories."  (Great cover, huh?)  Apparently she's got some review copies available, so if you're interested here's the deets from Rachel:

If you know anyone who'd like to review it on Amazon, I'd be happy to send them a free copy, provided they review it within six weeks of receipt. They can email me directly at this address (eroticspankingantho AT gmail DOT com) with their mailing address.

So there you go. If you want a free copy and can commit to reviewing on Amazon, do enquire using the address above.  Here's the table of contents: 

Table of contents and Introduction:
Introduction: The Very Varied World of Spanking Delights
The Perfect Dom Lucy Felthouse
Birthday Boy Cecilia Duvalle
Unwrapping Craig J. Sorensen
The Assignment Donna George Storey
A Game of Numbers Kiki DeLovely
Mermaid Teresa Noelle Roberts
Butch Girls Don’t Cry Giselle Renarde
Echo J. Sinclaire
Bitch Elizabeth Silver
The Price of Experience Kate Dominic
The Spanking Salon Elizabeth Coldwell
The Impact of Change Maggie Morton
Writer’s Block Evan Mora
Lessons Learned Jade Melisande
Invitation to a Spanking Andrea Dale
A Timely Correction Dorothy Freed
Spanking the Monkey Cynthia Rayne
Shine Shanna Germain
Papers to Grade Thomas S. Roche
Lean on Me Adele Haze
Proxy Lucy Hughes
Bad Boy Isabelle Gray
Marks Rachel Kramer Bussel

There's also a Wordpress site:

And here are the links to Cheeky Spanking Stories on Amazon:  and Kindle: 

That's it for now. Spanks a lot!

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Call For Submissions: New Horror Short Story Anthology

Another call for subs, this one from my mainstream e-publisher Untreed Reads (love them!) and it's for a New Year's Eve horror antho!  I've got a story burbling away already.  How about you?


Some people are sorry to see a year go by. Great things happened, vacations were taken, memories were made.

Of course...not EVERY year is necessarily a good one. And, sometimes, New Year's Eve can be the scariest holiday of them all. Forced to relive awkward moments, breakups...and sometimes something a little more sinister. A new year doesn't necessarily mean it's going to be a GOOD year.

A lot of people die on New Year's Eve. Many of them happen in traffic accidents. But what about the others? What about the unusual deaths? Could there be a supernatural reason why people don't make it to a new year? Some force at work determined to thin the herd before the clock ticks over to 12:01?

Untreed Reads is pleased to announce a call for submissions for a new horror short story anthology we're calling Year's End. Come tell us your scariest story about New Year's Eve. Happy endings are not necessary. Heck, the more horrific and unhappy the better. Here's the rules:

1. All stories must be between 1500-5000 words.
2. Deadline for submission for consideration is October 15th, 2012. This is a firm date; no submissions after this date will be considered.
3. All submissions should be sent to Jay Hartman at with the words NEW YEARS in the subject line.
4. Your story CANNOT take place on New Year's Day. The ending may take you there, but the bulk of the story MUST happen on New Year's Eve.
5. Submissions must be in DOC, RTF or ODT format.
6. We will not be publishing the stories individually. Only the anthology will be available.
7. Authors will receive royalty, but not upfront payment. Authors will each receive a share of royalties of 50% of net (net = cover price - vendor commission) based on the number of authors in the final anthology.
8. Characters appearing in other Untreed Reads series or other series not published by us are strongly encouraged. Please check your contract with your publisher to make sure you may legally do so.
9. Your story MUST have a strong horror element to it. Any genre of horror is fine. Preference is to psychological horror rather than gore.
10. Stories not accepted for the anthology may be still be considered for other publication.
11. Previously published works are fine providing that electronic rights have reverted to the author and the story is not currently offered for free anywhere on the Internet or currently published through a self-publishing venue (i.e.: Smashwords, Amazon KDP, etc.).
12. There are no restrictions whatsoever on age, race, sex, sexual orientation, etc in the work.. Just tell us a great story!

Please direct any questions to Jay Hartman at We recommend looking at any of the following for an idea of the types of stories we're looking for: Joshua Calkins-Treworgy's Roads Through Amelia series, Benson Phillip Lott's Pumpkin series or any of the horror works by Rick R. Reed.

All decisions on material will be made by November 1st, 2012. Every attempt will be made to notify all authors of the status of their submission at that time. Please do not inquire about status prior to November 1st, 2012.

This anthology has an expected publication date of December 15th.

This is an open call, and may be reposted anywhere and everywhere.

Jay Hartman
Untreed Reads Publishing