Review: A Prince on Paper by Alyssa Cole

May 16, 2019 Reviews Comments (0) 289

Alyssa Cole’s A Prince on Paper is the third full length novel in her Reluctant Royals series. I loved A Princess in Theory. I loved, loved, loved A Duke by Default. And I couldn’t wait for A Prince on Paper to come out. I preordered it the minute I finished A Duke by Default. Continue Reading

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Review: Can’t Escape Love by Alyssa Cole

May 10, 2019 Reviews Comments (0) 246

Can’t Escape Love is a novella in Alyssa Cole’s Reluctant Royals series. It follows Reggie, twin sister of A Duke by Default heroine Portia. Reggie is a  geek with mobility devices, and falls for Gus, puzzle aficionado and escape room designer on the autism spectrum.

Without knowing, they had a vital influence on each other’s life, pushing them to pursue their passions, without ever even seeing each other. That’s the beauty of the internet right there! Without fandom and the friends I made through it, I wouldn’t be here writing either. Continue Reading

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The Handmaiden: Pornography, Gaslighting, and Uncle Bluebeard

April 17, 2019 Reviews, Uncategorized Comments (0) 615

The first time I read Sarah Waters’ novel Fingersmith, I was struck by its beautiful prose. The novel’s adaptation The Handmaiden (2016) achieves something similar with its lush aesthetic. Its beautiful, calm shots hide a thick plot of layered manipulation.

The Handmaiden transports the plot of Fingersmith from Victorian England to Korea in the 1930s under Japanese occupation. Despite this change in location and time, the movie follows the book’s plot closely — until it doesn’t. When reading, I wasn’t prepared for the big plot twist at the end of the first part of the book. The movie kept the three-act-structure of the book, and I knew what was coming. And yet, director Park took the twist and twisted it again so cleverly that I was as surprised as with the book.

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Wishes – Erotic Journal Challenge #13

April 11, 2019 Uncategorized Comments (2) 520

Prompt #13: Imagine you found a magic lantern (or other container) and inside lived a genie who only granted sexual wishes. If that genie gave you 3 wishes, what would you wish for? And why?

Erotic Journal Challenge

I couldn’t think of anything at first. Probably the first sign that I’m pretty happy with my lot, broken and damaged as it might be. I asked my ogre: If you had three sexual wishes, what would you want?

His answer: “I have everything. What more could I want for? My wife already does everything I could come up with.” (Yup, that’s me.)

It’s the same for me.

So either we’re the most boring, unimaginative people this side of Eden, or we really are this happy. In which case: Yawn.

Yet, the truth is different. Yes, I can’t think of anything I could wish for (except to come for once, but I’m okay as is, too). But also: I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to find a genie with the power to grant me sexual wishes. I don’t want to, because I don’t dare to think about it. Let’s be real: I would want everything. Continue Reading

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SB4MH: Alcohol and Depression, a dangerous cocktail

April 3, 2019 This is it this is the real life Comments (4) 392

This week, I’m participating in Sex Bloggers for Mental Health. April is Alcohol Awareness Month, which is also this week’s topic.

SB4MH, sex bloggers for mental health

One of the things you should do if you have PCOS and want to live a little healthier: Cut the booze. Now, I’ve never been a frequent or heavy drinker. Still, this rule in my new health regimen fills me with a twinge of melancholy.

It’s not that I feel a bone-deep yearning to drink. In my bar, hardly touched bottles of alcoholic beverages linger. Whiskey, homemade quince liqueur, Tequila that traveled all the way from Mexico. Sweet wine from the vineyards hugging the sunny hills of the Emperor’s Seat at the foot of which I live. It’s Germany’s best area for wine, after all.

All that booze is there, and I never touch it. But there’s a difference between choosing not to touch it and not being allowed to. As long as there’s an option to self-medicate with a drink, there’s a reassurance in it. I could take a drink when the voices grow too loud. Depression has a way with words, and it’s vicious.

Sometimes the voice inside me insists that I’m an utter failure. That the words coming from my fingertips suck. That I write too little and will never get anywhere with it. The temptation to drown those thoughts grows stronger then, roaring. Just a little drink, a thimble full of Whiskey or Tequila, to get a buzz going and lower those pesky inhibitions. Those frothing doubts. Those that snarl Don’t even try it’s not worth it – you’re not worth it at me. One drink can’t hurt, right? Continue Reading

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Erotic Journal Challenge #11

March 18, 2019 About Me Comments (6) 440

Last week I stumbled across the Erotic Journal Challenge by Brigit Delaney (how adorable is her logo? I’m green with envy!). Since I’m terribly inconsistent and perpetually inspiration-less with this blog thing, I’m giving this challenge a shot, hoping it will help me to blog some more.

I have a lot of things on my mind lately concerning the struggle with my PCOS and Hashimoto’s, and I want 2019 to be the year I finally get better. My hope is that getting physically better will also help me to get better mentally and kick depression’s ass. However, I’m expecting a long and hard journey, and I’m only just at the beginning. Baby steps is what I’m telling myself.

What does this have to do with the Erotic Journal Challenge? Well, since striving for health is the most prominent thing in my life right now, it’s going to color my perspective of everything else. While I’m reminiscing about the past, my thoughts will inevitably bounce back to the present. This week’s prompt is Sex Ed, and there are some things I really wish I’d known earlier.

Prompt #11, 3/16-3/24: Sex Ed – What were you taught about sex as you grew up? What did you not know that you wished you’d known? What/how did you teach yourself? Who taught you the most?

Maybe I wouldn’t be at this lowest point in my life health-wise if I had paid more attention in biology class in school. I was 18 when my gyn warned me about hormonal irregularities in my body for the first time. She wanted me to see an endocrinologist to check it out further. My menstrual cycle has always been irregular, which prompted her to take a closer look. But I, 18 and stupid, shrugged it off. I had other things on my mind. If I had been diagnosed with PCOS earlier, maybe I would have taken better care of my health. I got pregnant at age 20, and again at 21, with maybe 3 (irregular) periods in between, and I forgot all about hormonal imbalances amidst diapers and stubborn infants.

I should have paid more attention. But my “Sex Ed” came mostly from romance novels and concentrated more on the pleasure side than the functional side of things. At least, what was considered pleasure in 90s romance novels. The very first novel I bought myself, a Historical Gold Extra serial, contained a (in hindsight horrifying) rape scene. The heroine thinks she’s starting a position as a governess and the “hero” thinks she’s a sex worker sent to “teach” him sex. And when the heroine refuses him and “acts” like an inexperienced virgin, he takes it as an act meant to please him and proceeds regardless. Again and again. As you see, that scene left quite the impression, and I can still recall it vividly over 20 years later.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s been formative for my sexual fantasies as a pubescent girl or even till today, or if that was inside of me even before. Maybe it just gave me a nudge. Once, I had to ask my grandmother to open a belt I had fastened too tightly because I liked the pressure of it around me. I was hardly six. Ropes and games where someone would be tied up (preferably to a tree after having been caught in a round of Robber and Gendarme) fascinated me even before I could read. (It’s still a recurring theme in my writing today – just take a look at The Hunting Game. Go on, it’s free).

Sure, going to school in Germany, I knew the bolts and nuts of sex. Sex Ed is a recurring thing in school here, starting in elementary school. Plus, being a teen in the 90s, I had the BRAVO, a pop music magazine aimed at teens that also contained educational content about sexuality. Every German Millennial knows Dr. Sommer and their column in the BRAVO. However, they, too, concentrated more on the nuts and bolts and the importance of using condoms, waiting till you’re ready, making sure your partner really wants what you’re doing enthusiastically.

Maybe I had taken that first warning of my gyn more seriously if I had known more about the fundamental importance of our hormones. But I skipped the last, most in-depth Sex Ed unit in school.  It coincided with a time when anything remotely sexual triggered me following an incident of sexual violence. I didn’t want to see naked bodies. I didn’t want to learn anything about those instruments of attack. I stayed away from biology class.

Ultimately, I don’t know if things would be any different today had I attended that class. I don’t know if I had learned what I should have known to realize the consequences of a little hormonal imbalance. Maybe I just should have listened more closely to my gyn. Maybe I was just young and brash and stupid, period. Still, whenever I think of the Sex Ed back in school, I think of that one phone call I made from the coin telephone underneath the stairs in the school’s auditorium, when I called off my appointment with the endocrinologist. And I wonder if my life would be different now.

 

 

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November 19, 2018 Writing Comments (0) 507

anonymous asked:

Hi! 🙂 Is it too early to ask you about your new book, Best Women’s Erotica of the Year Vol. 4? Could you tell us a bit about your story?

 

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Fuck it Fear

November 2, 2018 About Me Comments (0) 413

It’s Halloween, which isn’t really a thing here, but it’s an occasion for me to ponder the fears haunting my poor, little, lost soul. This rambling thing (not really a post) was brought on by this post by Rachel Woe on the Sisters in Smut page. What should have been a fortifying little pep talk to myself turned instead into a reckoning with my fear-riddled soul.

Risks and fear are inextricably related.

The greater the fear, the bigger the perceived risk we need to take to overcome the fear. Some fears are shapeless, dark monsters lurking at the edges of our vision, and we’re not exactly sure WHAT they really are. Some are neatly defined, named, labelled and put in a box to gather dust. We never take the box down from its place on the shelf to examine its contents, but it’s there, allowed to live on on the shelf space of our minds. Continue Reading

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Flesh Fiction: Blindfold

August 8, 2018 Stories Comments (0) 655

Flesh Fiction: A series of very short fiction (or flash fiction).

 

“I want your trust,” he’d said before placing the blindfold above her eyes. It was not just a shawl, but one of those thick, padded leather eye patches that blocked out even the last ray of light, and it was secured with straps making it impossible to slip. Then he took her hand and led her into the room where the others awaited her.

June didn’t know who they were, or how many. Every step on Ronald’s hand led her deeper into darkness, until at last he made her stop. Over the racing beat of her heart, she tried to pick out the number of people in the room by their breathing. Someone sucked in air against their teeth on her right side. To the left, an appreciative hum. The shuffle of feet in front off her, and the rustle of clothes. She was at the center of attention, and she could feel it on her skin like sunlight.

Ronald’s fingertips brushed up from her wrist, never quite leaving her as he reached for the bow of her neckholder dress and pulled it loose. The dress whispered to the floor, slipping off her form like a veil pulled back and revealing her to invisible eyes.

June gasped, her lower belly clenching as she was left in nothing but her knickers and high heels, a delectable treat for them to devour. Goosebumps crawled across her skin, shivers chasing over her as Ronald’s lips brushed hot against her ear. His husky voice filled her to the brim with a want too big to hold.

“Serve,” he rasped, a wet, dark command that vaporized on her skin as he stepped back and she sunk to her knees.

She wanted them all, wanted them hard in her mouth, wanted them to fill her like a cup and turn her devotion into liquid bliss for Ronald to drink up.

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Away with the clutter

March 5, 2018 Motivation, This is it this is the real life Comments (2) 1365

While lying on the couch and recovering from the flu, I noticed all the clutter in my living room. There’s a lot of it. Then Pinterest showed me an obnoxious amount of “how to declutter” pins, almost like it’s looking into my home now. So many before and after pictures, showing how neat and tidy a home can be. Yes, even this home! Geesh. I get the hint: It’s time to do something about the clutter.

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