October 01, 2014

Out of Order

So here is a new-to-me ETSY artist who caught my eye with her deliciously clever designs. Get lost for awhile in the shop of Melanie Favreau! (As ever, I do not receive payment for featuring ETSY artists. I contact the artists for approval to use their work here. I enjoy being able to promote indies and showcase items I adore.)

Last night, I dreamed that a contract I was being asked to sign allowed a publishing company to pay me with a shoe box. The shoe box was tied shut with twine. When I opened the box, the inside was filled to the rim with sand. According to one definition I found, "To see sand in your dream signifies a shift in perspective or a change in your attitude." Then I looked up "shoe box" and found, "to see a shoe box in your dream suggests that you are headed toward a new direction in life. You are in for a new experience." Then I looked up twine: "To see twine in your dream represents your connection and your attachment to others."

Damn. Based on the tribulations (love that word) of the week, my dream was pretty spot on.

I promised an update to authors—and I hope to have word soon. I know some of you have been waiting for more than a year, for which I am deeply sorry.


September 30, 2014

Get ready to dream...

The little novelette is ready for me to send. If you reviewed Wrapped Around Your Finger, please drop me a note to msalisontyler at yahoo dot com, so I can send you this mini. The story takes you from Los Angeles to Paris, where the next part of the story is set.

Speaking of dreams, I dreamed that I was talking to Bram Stoker. I said, "If you kill off Dracula, you can't come back with a sequel." Because Stoker clearly needed my advice to become a successful author.

I actually haven't decided how to proceed with the next portion of the story. There are, oh, 300,000 words left. (And that doesn't bring you to the finale. I'm still writing daily.) This weekend, I started to consider breaking the rest into serials and releasing a 10K portion each month. We will see...


September 29, 2014

Trollop with a Question #24

Oh, I love it. I love love love this. And now I have the most off-the-wall question for you:

What is your favorite Shakespeare quote?

I'm the word geek who used to have several sonnets memorized: "Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds..."

Sorry. Alison + tangent = not enough coffee. Or some other scrambled version of that math.

Anyway, do you have one?

I will say that I'm often surprised when looking up a quote to find—oh, hell. Yes, it's Shakespeare. Again. (I know someone will say, No, it wasn't actually Shakespeare. It was Marlowe. But it's too early for the Marlovian theory this morning.) So I'm going today with favorite Shakespeare quotation. And, for extra credit, where the quote appeared.

Fun aside: in college, I took a Shakespeare final that required students to identify quotes and prove which plays the quotes were from. I aced the test, nailing all quotations except for one. For that section, I made such a good point, proving why the quote was from a play it wasn't, that I received partial credit. Ha!


P.S. Of course, I forgot something already. If you answered last week, please hit me with your snail mail address to msalisontyler at yahoo dot com. I'm ordering special prizes for the "favorite dirty words" query.

September 26, 2014

Oh, I'm having a weekend!

We're getting out of Dodge (I've always wanted to say that) this weekend. Unplugged, unplanned, and a bit unprepared. (Ha!)

For your erotic entertainment, you can always dive into my Free Smut.

Back on Monday with a new question for your fabulous answers!


E is for Anal

Happily Ever Anal is a five-story collection featuring Jax Baynard, Kristina Lloyd, Sommer Marsden, Sophia Valenti, and me. I recently tossed out a request on Twitter for some review-love for the mini e-book. Can you say, "Jeremy to the rescue"? He responded in his standard gentlemanly style with the following fierce five-star review, which I'll also be adding to my "Next 99." (What am I going to do when I reach 99 new reviews? Don't worry. I already have a plan.)

Now, hang in there with me for a moment, because I am about to do a mash-up. My next "E is for Experts" touched a nerve, shall we say. I tossed out the query to some of my favorite knowledgeable people, and I received such a wealth of information, I've decided to dedicate multiple posts to the topic.

This is what I wrote to the experts:

The query I receive the most often sounds like this: “Is he gay if he likes his ass played with?” or “Am I gay if I like my ass played with?” or “If I want a finger up my ass, am I gay?” Or simply “play with my ass.”

I covered the “am I gay” part years ago.

Now, I am asking my experts to offer advice for readers who want to try anal for the first time. I know this is a wide-reaching topic. Are we talking about inserting a finger, a butt plug, a dildo, a cock? Are we talking pegging?

Well, yes. I don’t think any one post will cover all the questions. So I thought we’d simply take it slow. Imagine you’re talking to an anal novice. Or even someone wanting to broach the topic with a partner.  What do you recommend? What is the proper procedure?

The first response I received back was from Karen Blue, who wrote:

I actually went over this quite a bit on my old blog. In talking to a female about male anal play, I suggest external prostate massage on a guy first. I tend to use my knuckle or finger tips to dig in and massage the taint for bonus stimulation during a blow job. Ask him if he liked it? (I have never had a man come back and say that external prostate massage didn't feel good. Most of them love this.) If he did, then maybe next time try some external anal bud rubbing during the blow job and then on to inserting a finger if he allows it. The idea is to go a bit further each time and to keep pleasure as the goal. 

If a guy asks me this, or if he feels weird about anal play, (which has actually happened), I just assure him that it is all about what brings pleasure. I hate titles "gay" "hetero" "bi" "curious". Who cares? If it makes you feel good and it is consensual, then don't get hung up on what it "makes" you. I hate all the sterotypes. The are especially prevalent in the swinger world, (sad to think people who are so open about sex could be so scared to try something new). I think I have changed a few minds over the years. I don't worry too much about putting my man or any guy into some sort of category of bi or hetero over what happens when we play. 

Karen Blue is a blogger and a mother in her thirties in a committed relationship. Karen has been blogging sex since 2009. She and her lover are very active in the swinger lifestyle and she reviews books and sex toys for her blog in her 'spare' time. She is an US Army veteran, a full time professional in her vanilla life, and the mother of four. She resides in sunny Florida.

I will be posting more expert information over the next few days. And please remember, if you review any of my titles, I will happily send you another book from my porn closet. Just drop a note to msalisontyler at yahoo dot com.


September 25, 2014

Smut of the Month

I know we're nearly at the end of September, but I just had this idea, and I don't want to let it go. I probably should hold out until Wednesday, but I'm such an impatient person, I simply can't do it.

So here we go... I'm starting a feature called "Smut of the Month." I actually have no idea what this means—what it will mean, what it might mean. But we'll start with this. September's Smut of the Month is (drumroll, please)...

Can't Get Enough by Tenille Brown. I have worked with Ms. Brown for eons. Her short stories are filled with characters so real you'll think you know them from somewhere. Work. A backyard barbecue. These are people in your world, in line in front of you at the grocery store, in the next cubicle, at the DMV. I love her shorts!

Can't Get Enough is filled with writers I adore:

Big Appetites by Miel Rose
Craving the Best Man by JoAnne Kenrick
Under His Watch by Rachel Kramer Bussel
Strip to My Lou by Allison Wonderland
Rocket Fuel by Jacqueline Applebee
His Subject by Madison Einhart
Mud and Pain by Tilly Hunter
Those Damned Cobbles by Tamsin Flowers
Embraceable You by Blair Erotica
Free Ride by Heidi Champa
When He Gets Home by Lucy Felthouse
Before They Burn by Beatrix Ellroy
Won't Last the Week by Preston Avery
Melanie's Choice by Medea Mor
The End of Sensible by Louise Blaydon
Sleepless Need by Monica Corwin
The Girl on Your Skin by Giselle Renarde
Spinning by Kyoko Church
Sweet Revenge by Anika Ray
The Fight by Hilary Keyes
The Beautiful Truth by Sophia Valenti
Waiting by Erzabet Bishop
Lovely Rita by Harper Bliss
Blue Balls by Kissa Starling
Blake Eats Out by Shoshanna Evers
Famous Last Words by Tenille Brown
Objects of Desire by Annabeth Leong

I know Tenille would be delighted if you'd read and review her collection—either on your blog or website or on Amazon. If you do so, let me know and I will send you a "Can't Get Enough" pencil from The Carbon Crusader. Be sure to read an interview with Tenille, check out Open (an anthology published by Pretty Things Press and based on her fabulous idea), and follow her everywhere she goes. Authors, if I have mislinked you (or not linked you at all) please point me in the right direction. I tried to grab everyone I knew. I'm at msalisontyler at yahoo dot com.


September 24, 2014

All Tied Up with Ella Dawson

Tied Up & Twisted was part of a four novella-deal I signed with Harlequin Spice back in December 2010. The stories were originally pitched to Harlequin Spice in October 2009, if memory serves. I love these minis, and I was crushed when Harlequin decided not to continue with the Spice line—right on the cusp of the FSOG craze. What a perfect example of right dungeon, wrong time!

The lovely part of e-books, however, is that they live on. All of the Harlequin novellas I wrote are still available for purchase. Some have been folded into print collections such as 10 Shades of Seduction and 12 Shades of Surrender.

I am infinitely grateful to the elegant Ella Dawson for her review of Giving In and Tied Up & Twisted. For a bit of backstory, Giving In (which began life as "Two Weeks in Venice") started as a fantasy I told myself. A serial I added to each night. So if you want a peek into my right-before-bed thoughts, this is the novella for you.

Tied Up & Twisted was built around a man I ran into repeatedly. Over the course of several years, we would show up simultaneously at the same place. He became Guy. Reed Frost was based on a trainer I watched surreptitiously at a gym. His power delighted me. I put the two men together and Hadley arrived. As if on cue. (Don't you love when that happens?) The novella received a delicious review here, as well.

Novellas still feel new to me. I've only written a handful. I'm much more comfortable with shorts or longs (otherwise known as novels). But being off-balance can be interesting. I'm still striving to get my sea legs!


September 23, 2014

Summer Loving: Donna George Storey

I decided to work my way through Summer Loving (I always want to write Sommer Loving) author by author to introduce you to writers you might not know — or to help you become better acquainted with authors you already adore.

Donna George Storey kicks off the collection with her iridescently erotic Moon Lovers. I've been a fan of DGS for years. I am lucky to have published her in Open for Business, Naughty or Nice, Pleasure Bound, 69, Alison's Wonderland, Morning Noon, and Night, Never Say Never, and many more.

When I think of writers who have an elegant mastery of the English language, Ms. Storey is one of the first names that comes to mind. Her work is intelligent, top-shelf erotica. Sexy as fuck, yes, but with an IQ of 180.

The story that lingers the most for me (well, I'm lying—a lot of Donna George Storey's linger), but the one I re-read the most often is in K is for Kinky.... Her story is called Marked, and I am as much in awe of her skill with words now as I was when I first read the piece. (Other readers are equally impressed.)

Then, between the entree and dessert, Mark put his arm around me, gave my shoulder a squeeze and whispered, "You're slouching again, princess. Shoulders back."

My eyes shot open and I could barely restrain a cry of dismay. Because immediately after he said those words, my underwear was soaked.

"Excuse me," I mumbled and dashed off to the ladies' room, praying it hadn't seeped through to my skirt. in the stall, I slipped my fingers into my panties and sure enough, I was as slick as if he'd played with me for half an hour. Without even thinking, I started rubbing and literally, in thirty seconds, I was coming, biting back my moans as my body shuddered against the metal partition.

(What's interesting is that I tackled a similar topic with my story Well Trained in Slave to Love. We were hit by the same inspiration—and I've always wanted to publish the stories back to back!)

You can read an interview with Donna, check out an excerpt of her stellar, sensual work, and finally read a snippet of her exceptionally clever piece in Summer Loving:

And so I found myself on her doorstep at eleven that Saturday night, dressed in my swim trunks. She said she’d provide the “moonscreen” and towels. Melissa had some crazy ideas, but I’d learned to go with the flow. Sex with her was out of this world.
            She greeted me in a beach robe, her pretty feet bare. Taking my hand, she led me to her back porch. I stood there in silence, taking it all in. The terrace was transformed into some kind of roofless bedroom. A sheet-covered air mattress floated in the center of the deck. Citronella candles circled it like an altar. The railings were draped with beach towels—I noticed one had a cartoon sun wearing sunglasses—effectively shielding our activities from the neighbors’ view. The value-pack of condoms I kept at her place was beside the bed. And above us, a fat July moon spilled cool shadows over the fuck nest below.
            My cock stirred.

I love how she took the theme—summertime—and flipped it over on its back. 

Donna George Storey is the author of Amorous Woman, an erotic novel based on her own experiences living in Japan. Her adults-only tales have appeared in numerous places including Penthouse, The Mammoth Book of Erotica Presents the Best of Donna George Storey, Best Women’s Erotica, Never Say Never, and The Big Book of Bondage


September 22, 2014

Trollop with a Question #23

Inspired by the work of Trixie Delicious, I am here with a brand-new question. Or I would be, if I could remember what I was going to ask. Hold on. Ah, yes...

When reading (or writing) erotica, what are your favorite word choices for sensual body parts?

We all know about "down there" and FSOG. I recall "sex" being used a bit in the Beauty books. His sex. Her sex.

And you? Whether you're a writer, a reader, or both—which words do you appreciate the most in your smut? Quick search of my laptop shows 2,352 files with the word "cock," 2267 files with the word "pussy," 1376 "dick" references, 1,417 "cunt" files, 310 files with "penis," and 172 "vagina" documents. And yeah, I know there are other words, but I think I'll stop there.

Do you gravitate to certain terms when you're writing? Do you giggle at words or phrases when you're reading? (Just for fun, I also checked "fuck" — that's the winner, with 2,582 items.)


P.S. If you answered last week's question, please drop me a note to msalisontyler at yahoo dot com so I can send you a prize.

September 21, 2014

"Everything I needed to know ..."

"Wrapped Around Your Finger is a psychological thriller first, a love story second, and erotica third."

Thank you to Cheyenne Blue for making my Sunday. I awoke to this review of Wrapped Around Your Finger, and I am sitting here so pleased. I want to cut and paste the entire review.

I will admit again that I was worried. The third book in the series is different from the other two. I bang on a lot about the fact that I'm working with half-a-million words. Finding the proper dividing lines between the sections is daunting. (Which is why a project I began in 2006 has taken until 2014 to get to this point.)

Dark Secret Love covered a lot of ground.
The Delicious Torment was more of an indoctrination into a brave new world.

But book #3 is a close-up. This is macro-fiction, a whirlwind week. I am supremely grateful for the readers who have penned reviews thus far, letting me know that I didn't fail.

I've added Cheyenne to my Wrapped Around Your Finger Tour. (If you write me a post or review, I will absolutely add you, too!)

Ella Dawson also made my Sunday, but I will do a dedicated post to her stunning review a little later in the week before I explode with happiness.

Next, I am so tongue-tied by this, I don't even know how to proceed. Molly Moore—who possesses one of my favorite avatars on Twitter—has dedicated a Sinful Sunday Competition to my titles. I am so excited by the prospect of seeing how people are inspired by the titles.

Finally, readers and writers came together for Sommer Marsden and raised more than £900. I am in awe. For newer readers, when my husband was struck by cancer several years ago, Sommer was one of the few friends I had who stayed by my side. People I have known for decades disappeared in the night—never to return. I would do anything for her.


September 20, 2014

Stroke • Bite • Lick • Kiss

I slid over to one of my favorite ETSY shops this morning—Trixie Delicious—just to see if she had anything kiss-related. And look! She made my mouthwatering dreams come true!

Oh, wait. Speaking of dreams. Last night, I dreamed I was writing a self-help book. The whole purpose of the manual, which was phone-book thick, was to explain to people how to move a book from their left hand to their right. I am not joking. (Damn. In the future, will anyone know how thick a phone book was? Are phone books as obsolete now as land lines?)

But back to kissing—the Snog for Sommer has raised over $1,000 (if my handy currency calculator is correct). I am in awe of the readers and writers who came together to help Sommer Marsden. Many of the participating bloggers are giving away prizes—and there is going to be a big Facebook party in honor of the event today.

The winner for commenting on my own little Snog Post is Eva's Flowers. (Please email me at msalisontyler at yahoo dot com, so I can arrange to send you a prize.)

I also want to remind readers about Summer Loving. All proceeds are donated to Sommer and her family.

You can continue to read the 69 (yes, 69!) posts that made up the tour here. What a way to spend a Saturday!


September 19, 2014

Kinky Boots

There is no reason why I would not like Kinky Boots. I mean, you all know I love kinky boots. (Boots are mentioned in 179 posts on this blog and 975 files on my computer.) But the movie... everyone said I should see the movie. I watched The Crying Game four times in the theater and hundreds of times since. I have memorized passages of The Full Monty. Friends said "Kinky Boots" was like a lovechild of those two films, with Tootsie as the cross-dressing godparent.

Except it's not.

I don't feel bad posting spoilers on a film that came out in 2006 - but if you don't want to know the plot, then run away as fast as your kinky boots can carry you.

Truth is, I enjoyed the first part of the movie. In a nutshell, a man named Charlie inherits his family's shoe factory. The factory has fallen on hard times, and it looks as if Charlie will have to shut the doors until a worker named Lauren insists that it's up to him to figure out a niche market to save their soles.

Through sheer movie luck, Charlie meets drag queen Lola and is inspired to start making fetish footwear for men who dress as women. Charlie neglects to tell his dragon lady of a girlfriend of his plans. But he is absolutely sweet and charming in his desire to create the best fetish shoes for men ever. The plan is to take the line to Fashion Week at Milan. 

The shoes are designed by Lola/Simon, who is divine in every scene. 

There is conflict with some of the closed-minded workers at the factory, but that is resolved. (And Nick Frost wins my heart once more. Love Nick Frost.)

Then there's a confusing dance scene (and you know me and dance scenes). Lola/Simon, with a whip, dances in a spectacularly sexy way with the girl, Lauren, who everyone knows will end up with Charlie. Firecracker Lauren seems positively mesmerized by the whip Lola holds. (We seem to be entering a different type of movie here. Will there be some freaky three-way between Lola, Lauren, and Charlie. No such luck.)

Moving on.

Charlie and Lola/Simon make a date to celebrate finishing the footwear line and leaving for Milan. At the restaurant, while waiting for Lola, Charlie finds out that his hideous beast of a girlfriend is cheating on him. The thing is, they already had the type of blow-out fight that indicates a relationship ending. So this isn't earth-shattering news to anyone. Except, it seems, Charlie.

Lola/Simon shows up in drag, and this is the exchange they have.

Charlie: You are a man in a frock in Northampton. They're staring. Even if they're not looking, they're staring.

Lola: I'm a Northampton shoe designer, Charlie.

Charlie: Yeah, You're that as well. You're also a man in a dress.

Lola: You make it sound as if I put this on because of the lack of a pair of trousers. Is there a part of you that actually believes that, Charlie?

Charlie: I don't know why you wear dresses and I don't think you do either.

Lola: I didn't realize I was causing you trouble.

Charlie: Forget it. All right. You are a very good designer.

Lola: You'd like me to come and design then disappear when I'm me.

Charlie: You is the designer. This is not you. This is you in a dress, looking daft. You don't have to. I don't know what you think. If this is about dodging what sex you get off on... If you think you are somehow being mystical, being the best of either sex, I have to tell you, Simon...Stood there in a frock right now you look like the worst bits of both. Stop hiding. Be brave. Decide one way or the other. For my sake, tomorrow, please, turn up looking like the picture on your passport.

Okay, so I immediately start hating Charlie. Because he's cruel. And he hasn't been cruel for the whole fucking movie. The only excuse is that he's found out his beast is cheating. But she's a beast. There was not one scene where the girlfriend had any redeeming qualities. She's materialistic, cold, and heartless. Also, Charlie was Lola's friend. People don't talk like this to their friends.

But what has bothered me for the past few days—what has nagged and lingered is this.... Charlie is making fetish shoes for drag queens and transvestites. That's what's going to save the company. So why on earth would he suddenly have this freak out about Lola/Simon being in drag? If it's brave to look like the photo on your passport, then Charlie shouldn't be making women's shoes for men.

And I know this is just a fluff movie. And based on the other million reviews out there, I believe I stand alone with my opinion. But that's a mean speech. And then we have this half-assed apology over a phone message that you get to hear near the end of the movie, that also nagged at me and I could figure out why.

Here is the speech:

Listen, if people ever tell you, you look half a man, you gotta remember, that's fine. I mean, I don't know what half a man is. I don't know what the hell a man is. But I know that if it involves being brave, you are more of a man than I will ever be. Goodbye, Lola.

And here is the end speech from Tootsie:

Look, you don't know me from Adam. But I was a better man with you, as a woman... than I ever was with a woman, as a man. You know what I mean? I just gotta learn to do it without the dress. At this point, there might be an advantage to my wearing pants. The hard part's over, you know? We were already... good friends.

And the whole point is that Lola/Simon and a troop of crossdressers was coming to Milan to showcase the shoes. That happens. The scene is delightful, and the ending is fine.

But seriously. What the fuck is up with the speech? What on earth made anyone think that would be okay? There's no reason for Charlie to say what he says, and there's no reason for Charlie to flip his opinion back. Obviously, the writers wanted to get Charlie on the catwalk in kinky boots and have Lola save him. That could have been done without the bile-inducing speech.

So two heels down for me...although, damn, I'd love to get my hands on that thigh-high pair of slinky red boots with the whip holder up the side.


P.S. I actually mentally wrote a different end. The wildebeest girlfriend was not used at all. She could have found out what was going on — trip to Milan, etc. — and cancelled Lola/Simon and the drag queens. So that Charlie would end up on the runway alone... and then through some movie luck, Lola and company would save the day. Why have a wildebeest if you can't use her?

September 18, 2014

"Oh, that was a horrible book."

Recently, I watched Grosse Pointe Blank for the first time. I am a mega fan of John Cusack—and really, I adore all of the actors in the flick: Hank Azaria, Dan Aykryod, Jeremy Piven, Joan Cusack. The film was worth watching to me for this line that Cusack says to his former high school English teacher:

"Are you still inflicting all that horrible Ethan Frome damage? Is that off the curriculum?"

And the teacher says: "It's off the curriculum now. Oh, that was a horrible book."

I feel so fucking vindicated. I cannot tell you how much I despised Ethan Frome. I mean, I could tell you. But we'd be here for awhile.

The score for the movie was created by Joe Strummer. The awesome soundtrack was really 80s: English Beat, Bowie, Violent Femmes, The Clash.

I just entertained myself by typing in "I hate Ethan Frome" (like you do) and the results were spectacular. Here is one of my favorites: "The book I have hated most in my life is that innocent-looking little volume by Edith Wharton."

That put a huge smile on my face!


September 17, 2014

"...a raw sharp edge to pleasure..."

Look what Sommer Marsden made me! I am thrilled. I don't know how these little virtual postcards are created, but I love them. If you liked the book, and you want your very own copy of Dark Secret Love on audio (I have a few left), please post this image somewhere on your blog, tumblr, Pinterest or even Tweet it and let me know. I'll send you a link to a free audible copy of Dark Secret Love!

Feeling restless? Here's what I've got going on...

Snog for Sommer (winner of my kissing prize announced on 9/20)
Go Ask Alison #3 (where do the names of your characters come from?)
Trollop with a Question (recommend a favorite book, will ya?)
E is for Experts #2 (how do you dirty talk?)

Also, I am still (always and forever) collecting pictures of my books with your food... on your bookshelves... in your favorite store. And I'm still building my Next 99 reviews. (If you review one of my books, I will send you another. It's like a perpetual motion machine. Except sexier.)

But now, I have a new concept. (Uh, oh. She's hit the coffee hard this morning, boys.) Would you take a Polaroid, a snapshot, a slide, a .jpg, a viewfinder of one of my books in your... wait for it... bed? Yes. My books want to sleep with you! Send shots to msalisontyler at yahoo dot com!


September 16, 2014

Go Ask Alison #3

Occasionally, I come up with these brilliant ideas that turn out to be brilliant only to me. Or to me and two other people. I've learned not to tie too much ego to the different concepts that fill up my brain. Some work. Some don't.

The upshot is that I'm absolutely thrilled when one of my ideas catches on. Here is the latest "Go Ask Alison" query to fall into my box. This one is from Rei Pardieu, who asks:

How do you go about choosing names for your characters? Do you use random name generators or do the names just come into your head? What's your process and what advice do you have for naming?

That is such a good question. And here's my honest answer: I actually have never thought about this before. Characters tend to name themselves for me. Sometimes the names shift or change during the writing of a piece. But often my people arrive with name tags in place.

That said, I have overlapped a few character names. (I seem to have a fondness for Dean, Jules, and Sandy.) But I soothe my worried nerves by reminding myself that I've written well over a thousand stories. In my real life I've been acquainted quite a few people with the same names. (I've lost track of all the Toms and Joes I've known.) It's understandable that I might have used the same name more than once in stories.

Advice—well, I do know that when I trip over a name I love (in a magazine article, in a movie), I make a mental note. I also am a person who watches the credits of films to the bitter end. If ever there was a place to find interesting names it's in the movie credits. 

But my curiosity has been piqued. Authors, how do you choose your names?

If you are interested in sending me a query, please hit me at msalisontyler at yahoo dot com. 

About the Askee: Rei Pardieu runs the blog Thoughts of a Growing Sub. You can read all about her here.


September 15, 2014

Trollop with a Question #22

It is #22, right? I will have to go back and look. And it's Monday, yes? All day yesterday I thought it was Monday. So officially that makes today mentally Tuesday. (Or maybe it just makes me mental.) Which means on Friday, I'll be having a Saturday, I suppose.

But back to the question. I ask this one from time to time. And I've stumbled across other people's answers when least expecting. (Do you remember the dryer repairman who gave me a self-help book?)

Has any book ever changed your life? And, if so, what was the title and how did the book affect you?

Certain titles have been extremely important to me at different times in my life. Looking back, I can't always remember the appeal. I carried Tex with me in my backpack for years. I have bought Wrecking Crew for more friends than I can tally. I own back-up copies of Getting It Right, and I can quote lines from the novel. (It's a non-traditional romance. The book is funny and touching and presses all my buttons.) The Garden of Eden showed me kink could be literary. There are some books I bring places with me when I'm nervous or upset. I don't even need to read the words. I only need to have them near me.

And you?

If you answered last week's question and would like a prize from me, be sure to drop a note to msalisontyler at yahoo dot com. (I'm still waiting on a few prizes I ordered to send out. So please be patient and don't mug your mailman.)

If you missed the Snog for Sommer, there is still time to donate here.

If you're helping me on my quest for my Next 99 reviews, please make sure I didn't miss yours!

And if you're in the mood to make five writers happy, snap up a copy of Smart Ass! (All money brought in by Pretty Things Press books is divided equally among the authors.)


September 14, 2014

Snog for Sommer

When I think of kissing, I think of mad passion. I think of a back alley, a top row in the balcony of a movie theater, a tiny garden in Paris. I have a flipbook of images in my mind, and I run my thumb along the pages and make the lovers kiss:

During our first kiss (moments into our first date), he bit my bottom lip so hard that when I ran my tongue over the indents, I could feel the echo of pain—that tiny spark. There are days I swear I still feel his lips on mine. He held my glossy dark ponytail firmly in his fist when he kissed me, pulling a little too tightly, telling me in that subtle way that he was in charge.
            He was spanking me regularly by that weekend.

And then I did something even more shocking: I kissed him. He didn’t pull back or push me away. He kissed me in return, and I felt the sun’s heat from the outside, and a new kind of heat on the inside, and I saw the rest of the day unfolding like a brilliant blue towel on a white-sand beach.
—"When in Nice" (Summer Loving)

Then I bent down and kissed him. Feeling totally out of control, and not sure how to regain my balance. Alex kissed me back, surprising me. I’d thought he would pull away. I’d thought he would refuse. His lips were warm on mine, and I lost myself for a moment in the kiss.

—Even Deeper

I wanted to say: You’re embarrassed. I get it. You don’t know me. You don’t know her. And yet you’re bound to my bed and my girlfriend has her hands on your ass and I’m about to fuck you in a way you’ve always wanted, in a way you’ve never gotten. I wanted to caress him and kiss him and tell him sweet fairy stories in which the hero rides off in the sunset on a white stallion… and yet that wouldn’t have helped him.

I keep my clothes on and climb onto the bed with him. He looks cold, but he feels warm. I kiss the side of his neck, kiss his broad chest. He’s fine, built so handsome. I want to devour him. I understand the needs of the woman who’s left him. I can feel her urges inside.
            “She wouldn’t let me,” he says, “she made sure I was the one who didn’t know what was coming next.”
            I kiss his flat, muscular stomach. I run my hands over his cordwood thighs.           
            “What was coming next?” I ask.
—"Plucked" (Smart Ass)

I've written about first kisses before. I've kissed authors I adore. (Oh, for heaven's sake. I just rhymed.) But these kisses today are dedicated to Sommer Marsden, as part of the Snog for Sommer. There are 58 blogs for you to visit where you can read racy excerpts and (on some) win prizes. If you're interested in donating to Sommer's family, please do so on the official page. Thank you to the remarkable Victoria Blisse, Liv Honeywell, KD Grace, and Lisabet Sarai for setting up the snog!

Comment here for a chance to win a kiss-themed bundle of prizes from me. And please help spread the word!