Jumping Into the Deep End....
So last summer I went to the big RWA Conference in New York. I had written one (yes, just one) Regency Romance novel. I did not have a contract for it, but I thought I could go to this conference and maybe, just maybe, come home with either a contract or an agent. What I actually came home with was a bunch of business cards where people asked me to submit my work and turned me down. Some did it quicker than others, some did it nicer than others, but sadly, everyone said no. I DID get a contract for that book from a house I had submitted to prior to the conference and it comes out in August, so yay me. My book with the happy ending got its own happy ending.
The other thing I came out of that conference with was the notion of writing erotica. The leap from romance to erotica is not as big as some would think. If you have the ability to write to begin with, making that leap only requires a working knowledge of anatomy and a lack of shame. So, I listened to all these people at the conference talk about writing erotica (and yes, most of them whisper when they talk about it), and I realized that as a market, it is growing by leaps and bounds. I mean, come on, who doesn’t want more hot amazing sex in their lives, right? I came home, I thought I can do this. And then it all goes to hell in a hand basket.
Not only did I decide to write erotica, I decided that if I was going to write it, I was going to write it in a big way. I had heard from many sources that menage was the way to go...in the erotica market, just to clarify. I sat down, I read a few, being a total newbie to the idea of erotica as both a fan and author. Then I wrote Dragon’s Lair in about four days. I spent another day polishing up any obvious mistakes, and I emailed it out to a publishing house and within a month, I had an offer. This is not me bragging. This is me being completely blown away.
When I wrote my Regency novel, I labored over it. Months and months turned into years and years where I questioned every nuance of every scene. I wrote an erotic, paranormal menage in less than a week and BAM.
After some soul searching, I realized that I struggled with writing more traditional romance because words must be chosen so carefully. Every love scene has to walk a fine line between being hot and being dirty. In Erotica, not so much. A cock is a cock is a cock. You don’t have to call it a member or a shaft or manroot or a rod, or any other of the umpteen million embarrassing and horrifically cliched euphemisms for penis. Conversely, women don’t have petals, honey pots, my femininity does not flower. Writing erotica was a freeing experience for me, and while I still plan to pursue my more traditional mainstream romances, I understand now, that being a dirty girl, dirty words just come more naturally.
So, I jumped into the deep end. Literally. Having never read or written erotica before, I tackled writing a menage, not because I had great vision, but because I just didn’t know any better. Oddly enough, it worked out for me. Dragon’s Lair has been on Best Seller lists at AllRomance.Com, Fictionwise.com and now at Amazon.com. Sometimes, it pays off to just dive in. So, if you’re considering taking a leap, DO IT!
Lilly Montague has spent her life caring for others. Free of her responsibilities, she moves to New Orleans and takes the only job she can get—waiting tables in a sex club. Hopelessly attracted to both Phillipe, the doorman, and to Remy, the club’s very dangerous owner, she can’t hide her disappointment in realizing they are a couple.
But one night changes everything, and Lilly is confronted with her deepest, darkest desire—to have them both. Remy and Phillipe are far from mere mortal men; however, and indulging her desire garners Lilly more than she bargained for.
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A fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her skin as Lilly
Montague walked the cobbled streets of the French Quarter. Though it
wasn’t quite five in the afternoon, the gas lights lining the streets flickered
beneath their glass shields. The city was exotic to her, and the wail of a
saxophone in the distance made it even more surreal. Something had
happened to her since she’d come to the city. It was as if all her senses had
come alive and she was more aware of everything. The sights and smells
of the city, both divine and repulsive, assailed her, the heat was like a
living thing as it caressed her skin, and the light sheen of sweat was not
the only dampness that resulted.
As she moved, she felt the fabric of her sundress shifting over her
skin. In deference to the heat, she had forgone underwear, and she could
feel the dew of her arousal slick on her thighs. She needed to get back to
her tiny apartment and the new toy that was waiting for her. She had
never used sex toys before, but she’d gone to a shop on Bourbon Street
earlier that day and purchased a large vibrator with small attachments
that would stimulate both her clit and the delicate nerve endings of her
anus. It would be a new experience for her, but that was the whole
purpose of her new venue. Her life had collapsed around her a decade
earlier when her father had died and her mother had suffered a
catastrophic brain injury in a car accident. A week from her eighteenth
birthday, she’d become a full time caregiver to her mother, and her
dreams of college, dating and parties had simply vanished.
Turning down a side street, she walked for more than a block
before realizing that she was on the wrong street. She’d called earlier that
day about the waitressing gig at a restaurant on St. Ann Street. Glancing at
her watch, she realized she was one minute away from being late for her
interview. They would never give her a job. Lilly muttered a curse and
turned around, only to find herself face to face with a broad-shouldered
bouncer. His face was shielded by an elaborate beard and a pair of
mirrored sunglasses. His dark blond hair was pulled back into a pony tail,
and a tattoo peeked from beneath the tight T-shirt he wore. He didn’t
smile, but he turned his head toward her.
“Are you lost, darlin’?”
The accent was pure Cajun, and Lilly responded immediately. Her
nipples puckered inside the lace of her bra, and the dampness between
her thighs intensified. “I seem to have misplaced my job,” she said in a
mild attempt at humor.
His lips quirked. “If it’s work you’re lookin’ for, cher, we’ve got
She was tempted—so tempted. She didn’t even know his name, but
she could clearly picture them together. The vision of his strong arms
around her, her legs wrapped around his lean hips, and his cock driving
into her was powerful. Sanity intruded, along with the idea that she didn’t
want this gorgeous man to see her chubby thighs and cellulite.
“I should probably just find the restaurant I was looking for. This
place looks a little high-end for me.”
“Never that,” he said, again with a teasing smile. “Go inside. Talk
to Remy. We need a waitress.”
Glancing down at her dress, Lilly was painfully aware that her
pebbled nipples were plainly visible through the thin cotton. “I’m not
really dressed for it,” she protested, but even then she wanted to do as he
said. She wanted to follow his suggestions.
“Darlin’, with a body like yours, it’s a damn shame you’re dressed
at all. Go in. Have a drink. Talk to Remy. Take a chance,” he said, and
opened the door.
She was like Alice, and he was a bottle tagged with “drink me”.
Helpless to resist, she moved past him through the open door, feeling the
hard ridge of his cock nudge her hip. She wanted to stop there, to press
herself against him, but she didn’t. Moving forward, she stepped into the
dark interior of the club and immediately felt the pounding beat of the
music. It pulsed through her, centering between her thighs, increasing the
dull ache of need. A couple stood against the wall, pressed so tightly to
one another that not even air could exist between them. The man had his
hand buried between the woman’s thighs, which were wrapped around
him. They kissed, their tongues sliding sensually from their parted lips,
glistening in the dim light.
Breathless, she skirted the couple and entered the main lounge of
the club. It was dark, and there were no tables, but around the room were
couches and extra wide chaises that would play host to small groups or
couples. Blue-tinted lights gave the room an ethereal glow, and
shimmering curtains separated the seating areas. They framed each area,
but they couldn’t be for privacy as they were entirely sheer. In the far
corner, a man sat alone. He was dark and beautiful with coal black hair
and pale eyes. Even in the darkness, Lilly felt his gaze. It pulled her like a
Remy Mercier watched the brunette with a hunger that startled
him. He had known the minute Philippe spotted her. The two of them had
been together so long their thoughts were linked easily. Communicating
was like breathing to them. Excitement burned in him along with a need
like nothing else he’d ever felt. He surveyed her, from the top of her dark
head to the tips of her delicate toes.
Her lush curves veered more to Rubenesque than simply
voluptuous. As she walked, there was a slight bounce to her breasts and a
sway to her hips that captivated him. The cotton dress clung to her curves
as she moved. He wanted to rip the dress from her, to bare her body and
explore every lush curve with his mouth and hands. With little more than
a thought, he called her to him. He wanted her. She was the one. He sent a
burst of thoughts to Philippe and then focused his attention on her as she
moved toward him.
He repositioned himself on the couch, crossing his legs to conceal
the raging hard-on that had hit him the minute she walked in. He looked
like a normal man, albeit an exceptionally good-looking one, but the size
of his cock was usually a dead giveaway he wasn’t entirely normal. It was
the same for Philippe. Of course, it wasn’t simply the size of their cocks
that set them apart. It was their stamina. As Acadian Dragons, they were
among the most highly sexed of their kind. It made taking human lovers a
very complicated proposition. Having a human lover was not necessary,
as they had one another, but occasionally, Remy thought, a little variety
was a very nice touch. The brunette would provide that admirably.
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