The Erotic Genre: Am I bad because of what I write?

You write sex stories?

Porn?

Are these real experiences?

Fantasies?

No, I write erotic stories. I write characters within fictional worlds with emotions and yes they have sex. Yes, more sex, more detailed sex than someone being carried up the staircase. Unless, of course, you follow and watch…participate.

No, it’s not porn. My characters and their stories have just as many rules and story arcs and requirements as a story without sex. This isn’t a bored wham, bam, thank you mam.

Real? Seriously? Ah, no. Believe me? No? So, why ask?

Fantasies? See the response above.

What’s with all the gasps and shock when people learn I write detailed sex scenes within the walls of fiction? Funny, I don’t get the same reaction when I say I write horror – except from my mom. She wonders why I can’t write a simple love story.

Mom, I do. Mine just happen to have a lot of sex in it.

Good thing mom has a sense of humour. No, she hasn’t read my stories. Not her genre, besides – ewwww. I don’t want to know if my mom reads erotic, let alone mine. ICK.

Double standard?

Sure.

Look I’m not a bad person for writing sex. No one is a bad person for reading sex.

As a writer, my imagination just works differently. My ideal character could be the person who will curl your toes and have you screaming with ecstasy with how he/she uses his/her tongue. Burns you with hidden passions you never dreamed were within you. Then turns around and douses you with acid watching your skin burn off while you scream in agony.

Okay, I think I just scared myself.

All right, already, I’m not a bad person cause I write horror either. Yes, mom, I’ll go write that nice sweet innocent romance now.

Character Take Over: Cassie

Who....

Cassie Elizabeth Brown, that’ll be me. Bonnie’s best friend since before, well, ever.

What…

Lawyer. Corporate and pro-bono juvie cases. Lost my brother to the system and swore no siblings would ever be parted again.

Where…

Huh? Where what?  Oh…well, to be honest most everywhere. Except for the beach. That was the most uncomfortable feeling ever, never again. And water, pools, lakes, ocean, not very friendly for me.

When…

I’m pretty spontaneous but not when I’m working. There is a time and place for everything and I don’t play games with my work.

Why…

Work is my livelihood and allows me the freedom to help kids like my brother. I won’t risk my business for my fun. But I also will not allow my fun to be used to judge who I am.

Yeah, one creep tried to put me down and have the book thrown at my client. He lost – the creep – the client made amends and remained with her family. She’s in college now heading to law school.

Oh and the creep. The last I saw him his ass was getting beat in quite different manner.

How…

Life is too short. I remember the love and affection my parents had before the accident. I was lucky enough to live with my grandparents who also showed their love and affection. My brother tried too hard to fit in and be what others demanded; he lost himself. Then I lost him to a system that sadly isn’t equipped to guide and nurture the kids who need it the most. This is my life and I won’t be defined by someone else’s rules, beliefs, standards or judgement.

Thanks letting me take over, Theadora. 

General: The blog posting about nothing

When the thinking won’t think. When the thoughts have flown the coop. When the blanks are…blank.

Yes, this is a posting about nothing.

It started as something then my memory kicked in and realized I had already talked about what I was starting to re-talk about. Great, time for a new idea. Fantastic, what new idea?

Staring at a blank page wasn’t helping. Staring at a blank computer screen really wasn’t helping, back to the blank paper. Sure, it wasn’t completely blank. I had started re-talking about that previously posted subject, those notes were now just crossed out.

Boredom.

Yes, I wrote the word boredom.

From that simple word came these 119 words. Okay, there’s more words after that count and I’m really not sure I want to go back and change the numbers.

What’s my point?

One word is all you need to start something. Go and start something.

Visiting Bonnie and Boris: Introducing Boris

Who is Boris and why is he so free and open with his wife?

Too good to be true?

Or

Egomaniac?

I wanted Boris to be more of a secondary character. Someone sitting quietly in the background enjoying the show. I really didn’t want to deal with him as a main focal. As an equal to Bonnie’s character – the lead, the story POV.

Then, Lea, my publisher said something about there would need to be some conflict, eventually. Something between Bonnie and Boris…jealously, something they would have to acknowledge, deal with as a couple.

No.

I became the author who argued.

Argued that, no, my characters do not have that problem. They are the couple who know their hearts and minds. Who trust and love each other.

If you listen to the world beyond your comfort zone…the one that makes adults giggle with titillation. Then you have to acknowledge some people like _____ and ______ or ______. That they are comfortable and accept these different lifestyles no matter what anyone thinks.

Lo and behold Boris was born. He became the male lead. The protector. The supporter. The lover who cherishes his wife and isn’t afraid to follow her desires. Not afraid to show his own.

Together they explore the world few of us – sorry for the assumption – dare. Together they are the love story of our hearts. The trust and belief we have in our own lover(s).