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My Musings

On Writing: Chapters

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Note Taking

by Reed James

A book is nothing more than a collection of scenes woven together for a narrative purpose. How these scenes are organized, paced, and divided into chapters greatly affects both the tone and the flow of the novel. Figuring out how to choose where your chapter breaks are can be one of the toughest decisions. There is a lot of advice out there, but what’s right for you and your work?

Short chapters can give an sense of urgency, propelling the story. Long chapters can give a story a sense of weight, a slow fire slowly bringing the kettle to a boil. The pacing of your scenes and chapters is so very important. So how do you make that decision? Some people live by the 5k rule. Studies show that most readers have about a half-hour to read before bed and prefer to stop at the end of a chapter. 5K words is what the average person reads in a half-hour. But is that the right way?

A chapter needs to have its own life and purpose. It’s there to accomplish a task. When I write a chapter, I have a mini-theme and story I want this chapter to convey and it will be as long or as short as it needs to be to get the job done. Perhaps its an action chapter, or maybe it’s setup where I’m weaving several characters to the verge of collusion. The most important thing is to be true to the story your telling. If it’s a fast paced thriller, use short chapters, if it’s a long epic, stretch it out a bit. I’ve seen a chapter that’s 190 pages long in the hardback edition. It was a single battle, the chapter seemed to never end, making me feel the exhausting, unending brutality that the characters felt. I have seen other chapters that were but a single sentence of even a single word. A word so important, so profound to the story, the author gives it such weight by having it exist as a single chapter.

What’s really important, once you have your pacing, is how you end the chapter. While most readers may want chapters to let them take a break, you should ended it so they’re wanting more. When people say a book is a page turner, they mean that at the end of every chapter was a cliffhanger that made the itch to find out what happened next. “Just one more chapter,” becomes the mantra. It doesn’t have to a life or death cliffhanger, but maybe it’s a question asked, a sudden twist, an unexpected character showing up, or a character breaking down on the verge of being crushed under the weight of their problems. Keep them reading. That’s really the most important thing.

If you were wondering about the 190 page chapter, ‘A Memory of Light’ by Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson. I’m blanking on a one word chapter that I’ve read. I feel it was a Steven King novel. Google is failing me in this regard. The only one I can find is ‘Misery’ and I never read that one.

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How Hot is It? Erotica Review

How Hot is… ‘Doctor Next Door’?

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How hot is… ‘Doctor Next Door’?

by J. D. Grayson

reviewed by Reed James

 
object001_2Dr. Lucas Aiden, a 45-year old widower, though handsome, has given up on love after his wife’s death. However, watching his daughter Kate and her friend Ella wash his BMW in skimpy bikinis, desires stir in the Doctor. Ella was beautiful, and reminds him of his departed wife. Kate sees the lustful looks of her dad, and hatches a plan. Her dad, a Gynecologist, needs a volunteer to train his new Physician’s Assistant in performing Gynecological exams, and Kate thinks Ella would be the perfect candidate.

The story is nothing new, a widower meets a new woman, they get set up by his daughter, etc. We all know this tale, but Grayson takes it into some hot, and very naughty, directions. From Ella’s arousing medical exam, to bondage and domination, with a little girl-on-girl thrown in for good measure, this story keeps you right on the erotic edge, eagerly awaiting what new, sexy situation Ella and Dr. Aiden find themselves in next.

My only complaint, and its really my own personal preference, is the story’s POV. It’s 3rd person and slips between the three characters thoughts between paragraphs. It’s always clear whose thoughts your inhabiting, but I prefer the more unreliable narration of 3rd person limited or 1st person. But this is minor, and in no way detracted from my enjoyment of the story.

With a mix of hot, steamy, and very naughty sex, and a sweet story of two souls fumbling to find love, this book has something for everyone’s tastes. I give it 4.5 out of 5 flames. At $2.99 cents ‘Doctor Next Door’ will give your eReader a scorching-hot examination!

Available from Amazon and Smashwords. And check out J. D. Grayson’s website and see the catalog of his very exciting, and naughty, books.

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How Hot is It? Erotica Review

How Hot is… ‘Playful Punishments’?

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How hot is… ‘Playful Punishments’?

by John Satisfy

reviewed by Reed James

9bde466ce9d7a213898f2d0c5afbb07fec3187f9-thumbThis short story collection (and I mean short) has the theme of spanking. The stories are short, to the point, and very erotic. There’s no plot or character development. This is stripped down, bare-bones erotica. John Satisfy draws you into the sheer, erotic delight of a couple enjoying a disciplining relationship.

The stories are written with a very unique style that I found to work very well. It’s a mix of first and second person, and I think it’ll make an exciting read for both men and women. In each story an unnamed man is disciplining an unnamed woman. The man’s part is written in first person, making it very easy to become the man spanking the beautiful woman. The woman’s part, on the other hand, is written in second person, and it makes you feel like you are the one being disciplined by the narrator.

Of the three stories, my favorite was ‘Red, White, and You,’ set on a boat during the a Fourth of July celebration. It’s the longest, and has one of my favorite kinks: forced exhibitionism. The other two stories are pretty hot. ‘Office Discipline’ seems to be a boss dealing with a secretary, and the second story, ‘Punishment for Being Lazy’, is very short, but very hot.

My only complaint is the brevity. The three stories combined are about how long I like my erotica to be, with some character development and plot, and each left me wanting to read more about these characters, particularly ‘Office Discipline’. I love an nice abusive of authority story. But I can’t deny how effective John Satisfy’s style is at sucking you in and making you feel like you’re one of the characters. It’s a stroke story, and completely unashamed about that.

I give it 4 out of 5 flames. At only $0.99 cents ‘Playful Punishments’ will heat your eReader up nicely.

Available from Smashwords and Amazon and check out John Satisfy’s blog.

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Sample

Naughty Wife’s Surprise (Naughty Wives 2) Sample

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naughtywives2coverHere’s a sample of my upcoming erotica, ‘Naughty Wife’s Surprise’. It’s Friday again, and Frank and Evie are looking to have more naughty fun. Last week, everything changed for the couple. Frank had watched his wife be very naughty with the Black cop, and he learned just how hot it was to watch her with another man. But now its Frank’s turn to have some fun, and he wants to bring another woman into their bed. After last week, Evie’s more than happy to do whatever her husband wants, she’ll even be his slave, and find out just how much naughty fun two wives can get into.

Contains explicit depictions of bondage, exhibitionism, cheating, domination, spanking, threesomes, oral sex, anal sex, and wife watching.

The exciting, and very explicit, sequel to ‘Roleplay Gone Wrong’!

Friday was dragging along as slowly as Wednesday and Thursday had, and Evie was a bundle of excited energy as she played scenario after scenario in her head, trying to figure out what her husband had planned for tonight. It was so rare for him to come up with one of their games. While she liked to be submissive in the bedroom, she was the dominant one in their marriage, making most of the minor decision: where to eat, which social event to attend, what type of sex game to play. Frank was a laid back guy, content to let her make those sort of decisions most of the time.

He must have thought of something really kinky, she decided, and it involves someone else. All week her husband had been having hushed phone calls with a mysterious person. She had resisted the urge to snoop on his phone and figure out whom he’d been talking to. Maybe he’s found a woman to join us. Perhaps one of his coworkers? She always suspected Carol from his office as having a crush on him. And she was a leggy woman that all the guys, her husband included, panted after.

The thought of being with a woman excited her. She had been curious in the past, and even kissed a a girl, Michelle Sanders, in college. Then she had met Frank her Sophomore year, and her curiosity for women had been driven out of her head by this great guy she was dating.

The final hour of work seemed to last an eternity. She glanced at the cloak twenty times a minute, urging the minute hand to move faster. When Five o’clock finally arrived, she was off like cheetah after a gazelle, almost running to the elevator. The ride down to the parking garage seemed to last forever. The moment the door’s opened, she called Frank. Her phone rang, and rang, and rang.

She frowned. He did tell me to call, so why isn’t he answering?

She reached her Audi, worry nibbling at her stomach, when he finally picked up, and barked, “The safeword is ‘matrimony’.”

“Okay,” she answered, and a thrill filled her—more bondage!

“Okay, Master,” he snapped.

“Sorry, Master!” she gasped. Pleasure shivered through her body straight down to between her thighs; he sounded so strong, so powerful. She pressed her thighs together; her clit suddenly aching.
There was a sound in the background, like someone sucking on a lollipop.

“In the trunk of your car is an outfit,” Frank continued; his voice grown husky. “You will strip naked right there in the parking garage, and put it on.”

She hesitated. She wasn’t alone in the parking garage, and the thought of some stranger seeing her naked only made the ache between her legs grow. “Yes, Master,” she purred, surrendering control to her husband.

“That’s a good slave,” moaned her husband. “Now lick my balls.”

“What, Master?” Evie asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

“I was talking to my other slave,” he chuckled. “She has her pretty tongue running across my balls right now. You better hurry home, or they’ll be no cum for you to share.”

She pictured leggy Carol on her knees, licking his balls while he sat on his recliner. Jealousy surged inside of her. That’s my cock she’s sucking! Then she imagined herself kneeling next to the woman, sharing her Master’s cock and taking turns licking his shaft. Maybe their tongues would brush, their lips would meet, and they would kiss around his dick. She shivered, breathing in, and she could smell her spicy arousal; her panties were drenched with her lust.

Her hands flew to the buttons of her blouse. She had to get home as fast as possible. With her blouse hanging open, she pulled her keys out of her purse, and popped the Audi’s trunk open. She carelessly threw her blouse into the compartment, and found a package from their favorite sex shop. She opened it up, and blushed.

I can’t wear this in public!

“Suck my cock some more, slave!” her husband moaned through the phone. “You better hurry, Evie. This little whore knows how to suck cock! I’m not going to last long.”

Evie didn’t want the hussy to have his cum all to herself; she reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra. The parking garage air was cold on her breasts, but that wasn’t why her nipples were as hard as diamonds. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she unzipped her skirt. The shame went straight to her vulva, igniting a bonfire inside her. Her skirt fell down her legs. She stood in her work’s parking garage wearing only her panties, and felt like a complete tramp.

She took a deep breath. I can stop this. One word.

She slid her frilly panties down her legs, the gusset drenched with her lust.

The elevator dinged; footsteps echoed through the parking garage. She flushed, leaning into her trunk. Part of her wanted to be seen – the part controlled by her aching pussy, begging her to be free, and let a complete stranger, or even a coworker, see her naked glory – but the rationale part of Evie, her brain, feared the consequences to her career. The mix of danger and excitement was intoxicating; she couldn’t resist sliding a finger between her labia.

The footsteps grew louder, and she was all to aware of her husband’s deep moans coming from her phone. She never realized how loud the speaker on her smart phone was until this exact moment. The stranger was going to hear and investigate; her pussy dripped in anticipation.

“Suck it harder, whore!” her husband moaned. “Damn, Evie. This slave could suck the paint off the side of a house.”

She pulled out a leather corset from the bag, similar to the one she wore last Friday. Only the bodice of this corset was made with a fishnet mesh. The footsteps grew softer, moving away. She gave a sigh of that was a mix of relief and disappointment, then pulled the corset over her body, lacing it up the front. The mesh pressed tight against her round tits, and she could see her pale flesh bulging through the gaps along with her hard, pink nipples. The corset ended at her bellybutton, and two garters hung down. She glanced in the bag; there were no panties, only a pair thigh-high fishnet stockings and a leather slave collar.

Frank grunted, and the mystery woman sucked nosily on his cock. “Deep-throat me, slut! Yes, that’s it!”

“I can’t wear this on the drive home,” Evie complained. Her stomach churned with fear; her pussy churned with lust. “There’s no bottom, and you can see my nipples clear as day.”

“Your windows are tinted,” Frank answered. “And if you get pulled over, I’m sure you know how to get out of trouble. Say the word, and you don’t have to do this. It’s your choice, Evie.”

She flushed; her pussy ached too much to stop now. She grabbed the fishnet stockings, pulling them up her sleek thighs, and clipped them to the corset’s garters. Then she pulled the last item out of the bag—the slave collar. She starred at it clutched in her trembling hands. The collar was made of black leather, dotted with metal studs, and a short length of chain dangled from the front. This thing was designed to degrade, and to make her feel like a bitch—Frank’s bitch.

It’s my choice.

Evie secured the collar tight about her throat, the chain rattling. The leather was cold against her skin, and a degrading shame went straight through her, ending at her throbbing clitoris. She needed relief, and pressed her burning groin against the side of her car.

She climaxed the moment the cold metal touched her hot clitoris.

“Oh god, Frank!” Evie screamed, her voice echoing through the garage. Waves of passion pounded through her, and she didn’t care if she was heard; she just needed to shout her submission to her husband as loud as she could “Oh, Frank! I’m your slave tonight!”

“Good! Hurry home!” The phone went dead.

Available for preorder at Smashwords, and releases at most ebook retailers on 5-19-14

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My Musings

On Writing: Taking Notes

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Note Taking

by Reed James

Organization is so very important when it comes to writing. You may think writing is easy. You just sit down and let your fingers fly across the keyboard. But if you really want to write something meaningful (I know, a guy who writes smut is talking about writing something with meaning) you need to take notes.

Have an outline to guide you as you write. It doesn’t have to be super detailed, that’s really up to your own tastes, but you need something down to give direction, to know where your characters are going, what challenges they’ll face, and how experience will change them. I prefer to outline the major points of the story and then see where inspiration takes me as I journey to those points.

Next you should keep notes. If you have a character, say a minor cop that likes to chew a specific brand of tobacco, you should write that down in your notes. You may never even plan on using the character, but down the road you just may realize you need him/her to fulfill some part in your story and you’ll want those notes to keep the character traits consistent. Believe me, someone will spot the discrepancy. Keep notes on everything, descriptions of characters, of places, mannerisms, ticks, fears, relationships. If you do this from beginning, it will save you headaches down the road.

Have a system to find your notes. The most detailed notes in the world will not help you if you can’t locate the information. Whether you write your notes down and keep them in a filing cabinet or you have them as files on your computer, have a system. Use subfolders, consistent file naming, or whatever method you want, just be able to find those notes when you need them.

Do not rely on your memory. If you haven’t written a character in a while, you’re liable to grow fuzzy on some the details. Read your notes, that’s why you wrote them down to begin with. You’re only human and human memory is mutable. It changes, shifts, distorts with time. Maybe you’re that rare person that can hold all those details in your head. Good for you. But I bet the vast majority of us (yes us, I have made this very sin before) just are not capable of doing that.

Readers love consistency. It shows that you care enough to put hard work into your writing. So do the best you can, be the best you can. Whether your writing a novel exploring the myriad aspects of the human spirit or smut, put your all into it. It may be what separates you from the thousands of other writers out there.

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Uncategorized

Win a Free Copy of ‘Girl at the Bar’ by Reed James

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Win a free copy of my upcoming Girl at the Bar, releasing 04-21-14. Leave a comment below with a good email address by Sunday 04-20-14 8 PM PST and be entered in a drawing to win a copy of new erotica! One person will win and receive their conformation Sunday night!

Aurora sometimes feels like she fall in love a hundred times a day. There are just so many beautiful, vivacious, exciting, and wonderful women out there, and she wants to love them all. Like a butterfly, she flits from flower to flower. She only wishes she could stay in love.

On New Years Eve, she’s out at the bar with her friends and sets eyes on Ursula, a gorgeous, leggy beauty with raven-black hair and emerald green eyes. Aurora’s in love. Only there’s one problem—Ursula has a boyfriend.

Aurora boasts to her friend that she could seduce any woman, no matter how straight, and has her eyes – and her heart – set on Ursula.

Excerpt:
“Just show me, Ursula. Stand behind me and guide my arms. I want to be as good as you are!”

She swallowed. “Isn’t this a bit of a date cliche?”

I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. I thought we were friends. Don’t make it weird.”

“I… Okay.” She moved up behind me, her breath quickening. Good, she’s interested.

I stood at the table, almost trembling in anticipation, as her arms wrapped around me. “Put this arm like this, Aurora,” Ursula instructed, moving my right hand. Then she grabbed my left, sliding it down the stick. She tried to keep her body from pressing against my back, but that was impossible.

She was warm and firm and soft and wonderful. I smelled her perfume, a light, spicy scent that almost made me swoon with its loveliness. Her breath tickled my neck. That wonderful ache intesified between my legs, hungry for her touch. I shifted my hips, letting my rear press into her groin. My heart pounded; my skin tingled. The pool stick was smooth and cool; her hands soft, trembling with her excitement.

Find out if Aurora will be lucky in love and sex in ‘The Girl at the Bar’ by Reed James.

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Sample

Sample for ‘Girl at the Bar’ by Reed James

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secucingwomencover1-b

The Girl at the Bar is the first in the Seducing Straight Women Series. Aurora is 23 and her life’s a mess. She falls in love at the drop of the hat–she just can’t stay in love. While out at a bar with friends on New Years Eve, she makes a drunken bet to seduce 100 straight women in a year for $10,000 dollars. Aurora has her sights set on raven-haired and emerald-eyes Ursula sitting at the bar. Only problem… Ursula’s with her boyfriend. That’s not going to stop Aurora from going home with the ‘Girl at the Bar’. Coming 04-21-14 by Reed James.

Chapter One

I sometimes feel like I fall in love a hundred times a day. There are so many beautiful, vivacious, exciting, and wonderful women out there, and I want to love them all. I’m like a butterfly, flitting between flower to flower. Wonderfully pink flowers full of succulent nectar.

I only wish I could stay in love. It would solve so many problems.

My phone vibrated, buzzing on my nightstand. I tried to ignore. I needed more sleep. I buried my head beneath my pillow and squeezed my eyes shut. Sleep started to return, a comforting, black darkness that smothered my thoughts into blissful…

That damned phone!

I should have turned it off instead of leaving it to buzz loudly on the dark-stained wood of my nightstand. I opened my eyes, staring balefully at my phone. It sat next to my alarm clock, the red digits displaying 12:04 PM. It wasn’t even three in the afternoon yet! Far too early to wake up.

I grabbed my smart phone, swiped the screen and saw a dozen messages from someone named Natasha. “Who’s that,” I muttered.

I could feel the anger of whomever this Natasha was through the inordinate amount of capitalized letters and exclamation marks in her texts. “Aurora WHO THE HELL IS THIS!!!??!!” the first message read, linked to a instagram pic of me and a tan, dark haired girl grinding together on the dance floor of the Clam Diver, the hot, lesbian club I loved to go with.

I studied the photo, wracking my sleep-deprived mind. This was last night, I decided.

I smiled, remembering the petite, shy girl I had met last night. She had the most beautiful, tan skin and I fell in love with her the moment our eyes met. I had been pleased to discover my new lover had no tan lines anywhere on her lithe body when we stumbled into my bed around four this morning. I could still smell her flowery perfume in my bed.

I frowned. Where was the girl. Lacy, I think her name was. Or was it Macy? Stacy? It may have been Tracy? I struggled to make my sleep addled brain think. My phone vibrated again. Another message with far too many exclamation points from Natasha.

I wanted to scream.

Instead, I stretched, deciding sleep was pointless, and rolled out of bed. I lived in a loft apartment converted from some old office building. The floors were beat-up hardwoods and the walls cement bricks painted white. My bed was in the southeast corner before a set of large windows that gave a magnificent view of Commencement Bay and the Port of Tacoma. Sometimes I would sit here and watch the massive, orange cranes unload cargo ships for minutes, fascinated by the frenzied activity.

Then I’d get board. I have the attention span of a butterfly, and I would flit off to find some new amusement.

I passed my floor mirror and paused to peer critically at myself. My long, fiery-red hair tumbled in a mess down my shoulders and back. Silver glinted from the barbell piercing in my right nipple and the green scales of my serpent tattoo flashed metabolically. The snake curled around my right breast, it’s forked tongue flicking out at my nipple like he was licking me. I turned and winced when I saw the slight plumpness around my butt and waist. I put on five pounds. All those Christmas cookies!

Sighing, I stumbled past the Japanese triptych I used to partition off my bed from the rest of the loft – a vain attempt to make it feel less like a wide-open hanger and more like a home – heading for the bathroom.

The shower was running. Tracy must be in there. Or was it Marcy. Kelsey? No, that sounded wrong.

I tottered past my second-hand living room furniture I had scrounged up at various thrift stores – none of it matched, and all of it showed its age, but when you were poor, you made do – and reached the small kitchenette. I set a pot of coffee peculating, and plopped naked on a chair. Then I laid my head on my small, round kitchen table.

I could catch a nap waiting for the coffee.

The pounding on my door woke me up. “The fuck,” I muttered, stretching and brushing my fiery-red hair out of my face. I stumbled to the door, bare feet padding on the hardwood floors.

A bleached-blonde woman with a round, Slavic face – quite beautiful, with high cheek bones and gorgeous, blue eyes and dark lashes – stood n my doorstep. Anger twisted her vaguely familiar features, red suffusing her cheeks. Then she blinked, looking me up and down. Cold air rushed in around her; I shivered and realized I was naked, my nipples hardening in the icy breeze.

“Hi, uh, Natalie,” I greeted, pulling a name out of my sleep addled brain.

“You whore!” she screeched. “You don’t even remember my name!”

“Sorry,” I muttered, racking my brain. “Um, it starts with an N, right?”

She just starred incredulously at me, then her anger came roaring right back at me. “It’s Natasha!” Right, angry texter. “Who the hell were you dancing with last night!”

“Um…” I started to say and she brushed past me.

“I can’t believe you cheated on me, Aurora!” raged the blonde. “I thought we had something! Didn’t Saturday mean anything to you?”

Saturday? My brain didn’t work without coffee.

“What’s wrong, Natasha?” I asked. I vaguely remembered that night. “We had fun, what’s the problem?”

“You were grinding all over that slut! That’s the problem!”

“No, I mean you and I, we had some fun, but that was it? Why are you overreacting so much?”

“But…” her voice quivered. “We had something magical that night. Didn’t you feel it. It was more than sex. We made love.”

It was all coming back to me: the flirtatious dancing at the club, the passionate kisses we shared in the cab ride to her apartment, and the even more passionate sex we had in her bed. My heart beat with excitement, the memory of our love bubbling back up. She was gorgeous—leggy, piercing blue eyes, smooth skin.

“We did make love,” I sighed. “It was a magical night.”

“Then why were you grinding on this woman?” she demanded, holding up her phone and showing off the pic. “Who is this women?”

“Um, Stacy,” I answered. “Or maybe its Nancy? I’m bad with names.”

The bathroom door opened and Lacy – or Macy or whatever her name was – stepped out amidst a cloud of steam, her tan body glistening with moisture, as beautiful as the sun burning through the morning’s fog.

“Gosh that was refreshing,” she said with a smile. “I hope you don’t mine me stealing all you’re hot…”

“What’s she doing here?” snarled Natasha. “You brought her home with you? How could you, Aurora?”

“Well…” I tried to explain.

“I thought you loved me!”

“I…”

“Did you even love me?”

“Yeah…”

“Did our night mean nothing to you! It was only two nights ago!”

“Let me…”

“I’m not the type of girl that just has one night stands! I only slept with you because you said you loved me!”

“Please…”

I just couldn’t get a word in. Her face grew more and more red; poor Stacy froze like a deer in headlights beneath the never ending barrage of Natasha’s tirade. Then my new lover started edging towards my bed, grabbing her mauve party dress, pulling it over her head. She was retreating, lucky girl.

Coat slung over one arm, heels and panties clutched in the other hand, Macy slipped past us, waving weakly at me, and escaped. I wished I could follow her, but that would mean leaving Natasha alone in my apartment. That seemed like a bad idea. I had a number of breakable objects in here that I quite valued.

“Listen…” I tried to say.

“Didn’t you feel how our souls touched. Didn’t it mean anything to you, Aurora?”

Oh bother.

“How can you hurt me like this? How can you…” Tears brimmed in her sapphire eyes and her momentum faltered.

“We met at a club and had some great sex,” I told her, finally getting a sentence out. “But that’s all it was.”

“You said you loved me,” she sobbed.

“I did love you,” I told her, reaching out to stroke her face. “How couldn’t I love such a beautiful, sexy woman. You’re irresistible.”

She sighed, rubbing her cheek against my hand. “You do love me?”

Wait, what? “No, I mean, that night was magical and I couldn’t help but love you…”

Her lips tasted sweet and minty as her tongue wiggled into my mouth. I froze for a second, caught complete off guard by her sudden, passionate assault. Her body pressed against mine and I melted into her kiss. There was no room for thought, her lips were too insistent, her body to inviting. My innards were a maelstrom of passion awakened by the kiss of this beautiful woman.

I let my hands roam her body, unbuttoning and unclasping, helping to get her as naked as I was. I burned to feel her silky skin pressed against mine. Her fingers teased and prodded my intimate flesh, light, fluttering touches that stoked my passions. I buried my face in her neck; she smelled wonderful. Rose and lavender.

We fell into my bed in a tangled heap of searching hands and kissing lips. I had to touch every part of this goddess. My fingers traced the line of her arms until I captured her hand and brought her fingers to my lips, licking and sucking them.

“I love you,” she panted as I kissed up her arm.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to fight down the roar of emotions in my head and think for once. It was too hard, she was too irresistible. A statue carved to perfection by a master sculptor that demanded my admiration. “I love you too,” I whispered back, my heart beating with the emotions.

She squealed in delight and pulled my lips down for another wonderful, mind-numbing kiss. She rolled us over so I lay on my back, her bleached-blonde hair falling in a curtain about us. “I love you so much,” she cooed.

No you don’t, I wanted to say. It’s just lust—right? You can’t really fall in love this fast. Instead I moaned, “Yes, yes! I can’t even describe how much I love you!”

Her lips were fire as she nuzzled my neck, her soft breasts and hard nipples rubbing against my body, igniting more nerves. She kissed lower and lower, burying her face between my breast. She took great delight in kissing my snake, starting at the base of my breast and circling up to my hard nipple. I gasped as her tongue played with my piercing, flicking and toying. Sparks crackled through me, my back writhing on my soft sheets.

I burned between my legs. An insistent fire that needed to be doused. “Lower, please!” I moaned. “I need you to love me!”

Natasha teased me the entire way, letting her hair and breasts drag across my stomach as I writhed in desperate need. Her tongue traced my ribs then probed my bellybutton. I gripped the sheets, arching my back. I needed her mouth on me. I needed the fires doused.

“Oh please! Please! I need it so badly?”

“What do you need?” A naughty grin painted her face nestled between my thighs. She was so achingly close.

“Eat my pussy!” I gasped. “Make me cum! Please! I need your love!”

I exploded. Her tongue was skilled, exploring my flower as delicate as a butterfly, probing her tongue into all the sensitive, wonderful, achingly delightful spots. My climax rippled through me and I could smell my passion: a tart musk mixing with the scent of her rosy perfume.

“Yes, yes!” I moaned, another orgasm building inside me. “I love you! Make me cum! I want to explode all over your wonderful mouth!”

A finger slipped into me; my eyes shot open at the intrusion. Her tongue flickered on my tiny pearl and pleasure vibrated through me. She worked her digit in and out of my sheath, wiggling it about and touching every wonderful spot inside me.

“Keep cumming!” she purred. “I love it! You taste divine!”

Her finger curled just right. I erupted and howled wordlessly. Passion shot through me. Rapture consumed me. I never loved a woman more than Natasha at this instance. I cried my love out as pleasure crashed through me again and again. I collapsed on my sheets, drenched in sweat, staring up at the metal rafters unable to move.
Natasha crawled up my body, smiling proudly, my passion glistening on her lips. I pulled her down for a sweet, gentle kiss, savoring my tartness. Her breasts pillowed against me as I held this wonderful, beautiful creature, our lips sharing our love.

At this exact moment she was the love of my life.

“Let me return the favor,” I purred and she smiled.

Coming 04-21-14 to Amazon and Smashwords

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My Musings

On Writing – Facing Fears

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Writing is never easy, and writing erotica can be even more daunting. You’re taking your fantasies and sharing them for the entire world to read. Maybe you’re ashamed of them, or maybe you’re just afraid of what your friends and family will think if they find out just the sort of kinky things you’re into. Fear was my number one hurdle. And not just fear that my mom would find out what I was writing (the woman has a very anti-porn stance and kicked me out of the house when she found my own porn collections). I was afraid of criticism.

I was afraid to share even my non-erotic writing with friends and family. What if they don’t like it? What if they hate it? Could my self-esteem survive the crushing, vitriolic hate that I feared I would get? It took me years to overcome that fear. I started by posting anonymously on the internet, finally sharing my writing instead of letting sit on my hard drive for years (or even decades, and trust me you don’t want to read the stuff that’s been there for decades).

“Why don’t you shove a pineapple up your ass,” was one of the first comment someone posted on my writing.

I learned something—I could take vitriolic hate. I had thicker skin than I thought. I was even tempted to write a witty comment back like, “I did, and it felt great, I have a cactus that’s ready to be shoved up yours.” I didn’t. No sense in feeding the trolls. And then the positive comments came and I started to realize just how much I wasted my twenties. I could have been writing, getting better, sharing my works, for all these years.

Writing has been my dream since junior high school. It was my dream and yet I let fear keep me from pursuing it. So if it’s your dream to write, to paint, or sculpt or to do anything else—pursue it. Don’t let your fears or small minded, hateful comments, like the pineapple one, hold you back. If the criticism isn’t constructive, discard it, otherwise take it as an opportunity to learn, to grow, to get better. If someone is negative, but not hateful, think about what they said. Maybe there completely off based, but maybe there is something that you could improve. No one’s perfect and everyone can get better. I strive everyday to improve my writing, I welcome any criticisms so that I can improve my craft.

Life is too short and too precious to waste it on fear. Live to your fullest and follow your dreams, else you’ll soon be old and filled with regrets.

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My Musings

My Experience Self-Publishing!

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First time Self-Publishing

Hey everyone, I thought I’d share my thoughts on self-publishing.

After putting a lot of hard work into writing my first short story, Roleplay Gone Wrong, part of the Naughty Wives Series I plan on writing, I had the daunting task of self-publishing. I knew I would have to make a cover, and I had know idea how to do that and not to have it look like complete garbage. So I turned to Google.

I found a post: Create Your Own Ebook Covers, Step by Step, With Pictures by William King. From him I learned of image libraries. Websites with thousands and thousands of photos that you can buy the license for commercial use for relatively cheap. If you’re poor like me, it’s a great solution. My cover art for Roleplay Gone Wrong cost me about $14 from Dreamstime. Another image library I found is iStock.

So now I had the image and William King recommended a 3×4 aspect ration for the image size such as 600×800 pixels. I opened up gimp a free, and fairly robust, graphic editor. A poor man’s Photoshop. I shrank my picture down to 600×800, banged my head against gimps text editor, then I accidentally lost all my work just when I had it all finished. Sigh. Finally, an hour and a half later, I had the best cover I could produce with my limited gimp knowledge.

naughtywife1cover

I had my cover, I had my text. I had to combined them into an ebook somehow. Google was my friend again and I learned all about calibre. Another free software that could edit an ebook. It’s a clunky, poorly laid out piece of free software that took me a few minutes just to figure out how to do anything, like adding the document I planed to turn into an ebook.

My first attempt to turn my open office (poor man’s Microsoft Word) file into an ebook was a disaster. The formatting of the text was all screwed up, there were no paragraphs, just huge chunks of text. I tried to edit it. Ebooks apparently run a modified html code that I could make absolutely zero sense of.

Back to Google, and the discovery of style sheets. I had always ignored the formatting selection on Open Office, opting to manually do it and, worse, use tab for indents. Turns out to get paragraphs in an ebook you need automatic indents from a style sheet (Styles and Formatting or F11 in Open Office). Chapter titles need the heading format so the ebook creator will recognize them as the start of chapters. My next attempt was far better. It looked like an ebook. Elated, I felt like I was ready to upload to Amazon and Smashwords.

Amazon was definitely the easier of the two. The only hitch: I made my cover 600 x 800 pixels and Amazon required at least 1000 pixels tall cover. So I scaled my cover up and was relieved to see it still looked crisp. I uploaded it and passed their text scan. If you want to post erotica on Amazon, be prepared to never mention a characters family (other than a spouse, and that means no mother-in-laws or sister-in-laws or any other -in-laws) or use the words boy or girl to often (even in sorotity girl or frat boy). No jobs traditionally held by high school students (no cheerleaders or babysitters even if they’re over eighteen), no living animals (extinct animals are okay), and no nuns (don’t ask, I couldn’t tell you why).

Smashwords was next, and the headache began in earnest.

The cover was again a problem. Smashwords requires the width (not the length, but the shorter, top side) to be at least 1400 pixels. Again I stretched my cover, hoping it would still look crisp and sharp. Relief swept through me—it did. I was afraid that I would have had to recreate my cover from the original image.

It was time for me to face the Smashwords ebook creator—the meat grinder. I used Open Office, so I had to first convert my file into a .doc (the only format they accept). Then I submitted it. The meat grinder did not approve. I had tab errors, copyright page errors, and paragraph indent errors. Because I had foolishly used tabs to indent as I wrote (they didn’t teach style sheets when I learned typing), I had to go through and take them all out. Then I had to modify my copyright page to something Smashwords approved. I read through their Style Guide, and I set up style sheets with the recommended .3” first line indent.

Resubmitted. Paragraph error. Improper indents.

Resubmitted after making sure all the indents were in fact .3”. Paragraph error. Improper indents.

Took out the indents. Accepted. But it looked terrible. Block paragraphs with only a tiny separation between them. Unacceptable to me.

Now I was thinking I had to shell out a hundred dollars to get Microsoft Office, money I didn’t really have. I dug deeper, reading through the Style Guide Faq, and I realized what was wrong. The Autovetter message used this phrase: “If you want to use first line paragraph indents, then remove the “before/after” space you have coded into your paragraph style.” I didn’t understand what that meant. Luckily their FAQ explained things in simple terms that my pounding head could understand. My style sheet put an extra space .1” between the paragraphs when I saved it as a .doc file, and that had caused all the issues. Smashwords will let you indent paragraphs or have spaces between paragraphs, but not both. I removed the space and suddenly…

I was approved!

I shot my fist up into the air, as triumphant as a Greek hero completing some seemingly impossible task. I slew the Hydra, skinned the Nemean lion, navigated Scylla and Charybdis, and used far too much hyperbole in describing my elation just now! I survived the meat grinder, and its strange messages that made little sense.

I few days later, I passed their manual inspection. I was on the premium content list!

So for those out there looking to self-publish, remember these lessons. Make your cover width at least 1400 pixels if you want to post on Smashwords or 1000 pixels tall if you want to post on Amazon. Before you start writing, read Smashwords Style Guide and set your formatting up ahead of time. It will help to make any ebook, not just one for posting on Smashwords, and save you hours of formatting headaches.

Check out Roleplay Gone Wrong available on Smashwords and Amazon for the low price of $0.99. It’s a hot read about a married couple who get more than they bargained for with some roleplay when a Black cop catches them at their fun. Cheating, Cuckold, Wife Watching, Spanking, and Bondage. See how Frank and Evie’s relationship changes forever!

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Sample

Roleplay Gone Wrong Sample Chapter

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Roleplay Gone Wrong
Naughty Wives Series 1
by Reed James
Copyright 2014

 

Chapter One: Evie’s Naughty Idea

Frank wolf whistled when Evie stepped out of the bathroom.

She wore a slinky negligee – deep maroon with a black lace trim – he hadn’t seen before; a hungry look on her face. He instantly knew she had thought of some new, kinky game for them to play. She smiled, a sultry curl to her full, lush lips – just begging to be kissed – causing dimples to appear in her flushed cheeks. After thirteen years of marriage, he still found her beautiful, with her sparkling, blue eyes, and raven-black hair that framed her round face.

They had married shortly after college and he loved her even more today than when they first met. Even as his love for her deepened, their sex life had cooled. Things just became stale. There were only so many positions to try after thirteen years. So a few years ago they started roleplaying to add an extra spice to their life.

It was tame stuff at first. The sort of games that could be played in the safety of their own home: the naughty nurse giving her patient a sponge bath, the bored housewife and the repairmen, the stripper at the bachelor party, and then the he was the stripper at the bachelorette party. His wife’s favorite was the cop letting a prostitute off the hook in exchange for sexual favors. Evie was a social worker, and she spent hours helping women to get out of prostitution, and Frank discovered during their passionate roleplay that she had a strange fascination with hookers.

The tame roleplaying at home led to more play out of the house. They would go to a bar and Frank would pretend to pick her up like she was a barfly, then they’d go home and fuck. Soon that wasn’t exciting enough, so they started going to seedy motels, pretending they were cheating on their spouses, and last week they had fucked each other in a bar’s men’s room.

It was the wildest sex Frank had ever experienced. The thrill of getting caught had been intoxicating. They could hear men moving around the bathroom, while they tried to keep their ever growing passion quiet. Knowing that the only thing separating the two of them from being found out was the thin metal of stall’s door had quickly sent his balls to boiling; his orgasm that night had been intense.

“You look sexy,” Frank smiled as she posed for him at the master bath’s doorway.

Her blue eyes danced with pleasure and she swayed to the bed, hardening his cock. His eyes fell to the bodice, the pink of her nipples peaking out through gaps in the black lace. The hem fell barely below her crotch, tantalizing him with the hint of the treasure between her thighs.

“You ready for some loving?” she purred as she reached the bed, crawling across like a hungry puma, licking her lips.

“Always, babe,” he answered as her hands rubbed the growing bulge through his cotton pajamas.

She purred as she drew his cock out, her hands stroking life into him; he responded eagerly. She rolled her thumb across the tip, smearing precum around his sensitive head, pleasure flashing through him lightning.

She made a throaty groan, a predatory cat hungry for her prey. “What have you got for your kitty tonight?”

“Some creamy milk,” Frank answered. “My naughty kitty just has to work for it.”

Evie’s grin was large, feline, her blue eyes twinkling with lust. “While your kitty’s working for her creamy milk, why don’t you pet her?” she asked, rubbing her cheek like a cute cat against the tip of his cock. Precum gleamed silvery on her, a strand momentarily connecting his dick to her face before it snapped.

“Sound’s good. I love petting my kitty.”

Evie flipped around, straddling Franks face. She wore no panties beneath her negligee, and her treasure – barely concealed by a neatly trimmed, black bush – descended to his face. Juices glistened on her fur, dripping from her thick, pink lips and he could smell her wonderful scent—a spicy, heady aroma that he still loved even after thirteen years of marriage.

“I love it when you pet me,” she purred as he took his first lick across her vulva, gathering a thick coating of her creamy juices into his mouth.

Frank had heard that some men wouldn’t go down on a woman, and he couldn’t understand that. He loved every part of his wife’s pussy: from her small clit that had to be coaxed out of its hood like a shy maid out of her panties, to her thick labia that would rub wonderfully against his lips as he dug his tongue deep into her hole. He loved to spread open her petals and stare down into her pink depths, then plunge his tongue in deep and fuck her with it like a mini-cock.

And he loved to dine at her buffet.

As he went to work on her pussy, her lips and tongue were busy on his cock. She started with small licks, very cat-like, focusing on the ridge around the mushroom-like tip. Every time her tongue flicked across the tip, pleasure knifed through him. Then that wonderful moment came when her lips engulfed him. She sucked hard and his cunnilingus brought gasps and moans of delight muffled by his cock.

That was the best part of sixty-nining with her. As he ate out her cunt and drove her wild, her moans became more passionate and loud, vibrating about his cock as she bobbed her head. One more delightful sensation that added to the cornucopia of her sucking mouth and wiggling tongue.

His hands found her ass, still tight despite turning thirty-five last month. She worked out everyday, keeping herself in great shape for him. He felt bad; his job kept him too busy, and he was losing the war against his expanding waist. “Just more of you to love,” Evie would joke, or sometimes she would grab his love handles while they were making love, and giggle, “Something for me to hold onto.”

He explored her wonderful firm ass, squeezing her cheeks as his tongue feasted on her pussy, savoring every spicy drop of her ambrosia. He slid his fingers down into her crack, searching for her rosebud. She sucked harder when he found her puckered anus, gently teasing it with his finger. He pressed and her sphincter resisted for a moment, before it parted and his finger buried into her asshole.

She exploded.

Juices poured into his hungry lips and a loud, muffled yowl hummed around his cock, adding wonderful vibrations and bringing Frank closer and closer to his own climax. He worked his finger in and out of her anus as his tongue went to town on her clitoral hood. The little pink bud sprouted forth and he sucked his lips about it, driving Evie into another spasm of rapture.

Her mouth slid lower and lower on his cock. Frank knew she was rewarding him for the wonderful cum he had given her by deep-throating his cock. The tip brushed the back of her throat and she relaxed and swallowed him. It was pure delight to be in the tight confines of her throat, and her humming vibrated harder through his cock as her lips kissed the base of his shaft.

“Shit, Evie,” he groaned. “Gonna cum!”

His balls were boiling over; the pressure in them too high to be contained any longer. She quickly slid her mouth up his cock until only the tip remained between her lips as his semen thickly flooded her lips. Frank groaned, thrusting his hips up as the tense pleasure flashed through his entire body. Then he relaxed, panting, and enjoyed the afterglow.

Evie cuddled up next to him and nuzzled his cheek. “You were wonderful,” she purred, licking at his lips. She always enjoyed cleaning her juices up afterward. While she licked, her hand found his softening cock, gently stroking him.

“So, what do you have in mind, Evie?” he asked her.

A look of pure innocence appeared on her face. Frank didn’t buy it one bit. “Maybe I just wanted to give my husband a good time.”

Frank leveled a flat look at her. “And that’s why you bought a new nighty? It has nothing to do with the fact that you thought of some sexy, new way for us to have fun?”

Her grin turned wicked. “I had the most deliciously naughty idea,” she whispered in his ear, her breath warm; her tongue lightly grazed his earlobe as she talked. His cock began to respond to her lazy strokes. He felt like they were back in college, lying in his dorm after an hour spent making love. Evie would stroke him and had whisper naughty things in his ear to have gotten him ready for round two.

It had been years since Frank’s cock had been able to be ready this fast. But tonight she was just so damned sexy; transformed into a succubus by whatever naughty idea bubbled inside her head. Frank felt his second wind rising along with his cock.

“What?” he croaked as pleasure tumbled through his body.

“I want you to be my john.”

“Your what, babe?”

“My john,” she continued; breath moist on his ear. “You know, the guy who picks up a prostitute.”

“Right,” he muttered. “I should have realized that.”

“Having a little trouble thinking?”

“Well,” he smiled, “it’s hard to think with a beautiful, passionate, amazing woman stroking your cock.”

Her laugh was throaty and wicked. “It must be so hard to be a man and have all that blood pooling in your cock, starving your brain of oxygen.”

“It definitely has its advantages,” he answered.

“Umm, I can feel all seven inches of your advantages.”

“Eight inches,” he protested. “Just like you’ve been twenty-nine the last six years.”

She kissed him, her lips salty. “Fine, eight inches. And where would you like to stick this impressive specimen.”

His hands wormed between her wet thighs and he roughly shoved two fingers deep into her. “I think this’ll do just fine.”

She threw her head back and laughed, rich and velvety. “I think it will.”

She looks like a goddess, he thought as she straddled his waist. Frank’s cock reached for the sky, for the pussy hovering just inches above it. She lowered slowly until his tip brushed her petals, teasing him. Her fingers grabbed his cock and rubbed him across her engorged labia, smearing precum and pussy cream together.

“You haven’t heard the best part of my idea,” she purred.

“What?” he demanded, frustration tinging his voice. “Can’t this wait!” He wanted to be buried inside her. No, he needed to be buried inside her. His cock ached for her embrace.

“I want to stand on a street corner, out in public, dressed like the trashiest whore. Then you get to drive up and pay me. There’s this motel we can go behind and fuck like bunnies in your car.”

That sounded dangerous, but it was so hard to think with her silky pussy rubbing on his dick. His cock needed to be inside her. He would agree to anything at that moment to feel her sheath engulf him. “Fine. Let’s do it!”

Whatever reservations he may have felt were driven away by the rapture of her pussy engulfing his cock. Warm, wet, spongy. It was absolute heaven. Nature had left her barren and she was as tight as she had been at twenty.

“Fuck!” he groaned as she rose up achingly slow, the sweetest friction rubbing on his sensitive tip. “Take off the nighty! Let me see those beautiful tits!”

Evie peeled the negligee over her head, revealing her magnificent, round breasts. Her nipples were fat, pink, and centered in half-dollar sized areolas. At thirty-five, or twenty-nine, or whatever age she claimed to be, they were still perfect. His hands roughly grasped them; his ardor was too great to consider being gentle.

“I’m going to be your five dollar hooker!” she gasped as she bounced on him, her tits jiggling. “A cheap whore to be used for your pleasure!”

“Oh Evie,” he moaned. “Be my whore!”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she panted over and over. “I will! I’ll be your dirty, filthy hooker. I’ll do anything you pay for! Anything!”

He couldn’t believe it; his balls were already boiling over. It was like he was back in college all over again and able to go three times in a night. He grunted as he erupted his frothy passion into her churning sheath. Evie slammed down and ground her clit into the wet, tangled mess of his pubic hair. She bucked, her pussy convulsing about his cock as her orgasm smashed through her.

“Holy shit,” he muttered as she leaned down, her heavy breasts rubbing against his hairy chest. “You are a helluva woman. I’m glad I married you.”

Smiling, she breathed, “You ain’t half bad either, Frank.” Her kiss was sweet, loving, as they both came down from their orgasms.

As Evie fell asleep on his chest, Frank’s mind was full of thoughts of the fun they’d have on Friday night. He just had to get through the drudgery of the next two work days.

Ebook available at Smashwords and Amazon for $0.99

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