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A Novel Journey

by | October 26, 2012 | | 2 Comments

By Lucy Felthouse

A while ago, I posted about breaking out of my comfort zone. What I meant was that I’ve been so used to writing short stories that penning anything longer scared me. I broke out of this by writing a novella, which was published earlier this year. I’ve now broken out of it again by starting to write a novel, something I’ve been talking about for a very long time, but hadn’t gotten around to.

Well now I have. I’m almost halfway through Stately Pleasures (working title) and so far I’m enjoying it very much. I have someone reading it chapter by chapter, and they’re enjoying it too – so hopefully I’m writing a good book! I keep taking breaks here and there to write short stories for calls for submissions, or for ones I’m contracted to do, but I’m still adding onto the word count whenever I can.

Before I started writing, I planned the book out, chapter by chapter, and wrote mini biographies for each of the main characters. The characters have stayed pretty much the same, but chapters have altered. I’m finding that I surprise myself as I write – something one of the characters says or does, or something that happens. But providing it fits in with the story and where it’s going, I just roll with it. I was worried about sticking to the plan, but novelists I’ve spoken to have said that they rarely stick to the plan, it’s just there to keep them on track. So I figure it’s not a problem.

So, I’m on my novel journey, finally! I have no doubt in my mind that I’ll finish it, I’m very stubborn and I like to finish things. But whether it’ll get published is another matter altogether. I’ll keep you posted…

*****

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9.

Her latest release is Raising the Bar, from Decadent Publishing.

Writing in Several Genres – Help or Hindrance? By Lucy Felthouse

by | July 26, 2012 | | 9 Comments

Today I’d really like to ask a question – is writing
in several different genres a help or a hindrance to a writer’s career?

Personally, I’ve always written whatever comes to
mind. I don’t  just write in a single
genre, and I’ve often surprised myself by going out of my comfort zone and
writing something that I’d never imagined I would want to write. But here I am,
six years into my writing career and I’ve penned m/f, f/f, ménage, contemporary,
paranormal, BDSM, fem-dom, rubenesque, modern fairy tales, voyeurism, romance,
bisexual and uniform fetish stuff.

I know many
writers pick a genre, for example, straight paranormal erotic romance, and
stick to it. Others, like me, write all kinds of things.

I can see the
good and bad points of both sides. Sticking to a single genre means that your
fans know what to expect, and that it’s incredibly likely that if they liked
one of your books, they’ll like them all. However, on the down side, you may
not be gaining new fans who wouldn’t necessarily look for books in the genre
you write within.

Writing in multi genres means that you run the risk of losing fans. They may
read something of yours and really enjoy it, then check something else out
that’s in a different genre, and not like it. (This is why, on my website, I
clearly state what genres my books are). On the other hand, though, someone may
have found your writing while looking for a lesbian piece, for example, then
gone on to read your books within other genres.

So, now I’m
putting the question to everyone else. I’d love to hear your experiences – from
both sides. It’s a little too late for me to change anything now—plus I love
writing in several different genres—but I’m just curious to hear the opinions
of others. I look forward to reading your comments!

*****

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, Decadent Publishing, Evernight Publishing, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour, Seducing the Myth, Smut by the Sea and Smut in the City. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9 

Depilation Blues

by | July 21, 2012 | | 16 Comments

By Lisabet Sarai

Like most of you, I read quite a lot of
erotica. I’ve noticed an increasing focus on the supposed sexual
appeal of a depilated pussy. And I have to say, I deplore this trend.

Half a dozen years ago, one would only
occasionally encounter a shaved or waxed pubis in an erotic story. A
bare beaver was unusual and thus transgressive. An author could use
this to signal that the character was into age play, or a submissive
forced to shave by her Dom, or a wild sensualist seeking the
increased sensitivity that supposedly results from the removal of
pubic hair. The average woman had pubic hair – thus the woman
sporting a naked mons was by definition unusual.

These days, every woman and her sister
seems to wax. The practice (in erotic fiction at least) has become as
accepted – almost as expected – as shaving one’s underarms.
Waxing has found its way into romance and chick lit, another female
ritual akin to shopping or getting a manicure. As a result, a bared
mound has completely lost its value as an indication of erotic
preferences. At the same time, more and more authors seem to imply
that hairlessness is a desirable, sexy state – that in fact a woman
who doesn’t shave or at least trim her pubes is in some sense
ill-groomed.

Sorry, but I don’t buy this. Pubic hair
(as well as underarm hair) has an erotic function. It survived the
onslaught of evolution because it enhances arousal. The hair
surrounding the genital area captures and holds a rich melange of
scents that help attract a mate. Olfactory stimuli play a huge role
in triggering sexual response, and eliminating the hair reduces the
potency of those stimuli.

Of course, a hairless pubic area
introduces new textures and sensations for both partners. I suppose
that it might amplify sexual intensity as some women report. I must
say that the only time I’ve had ever had a shaved pubis – in
preparation for a gynecological procedure – I found the experience
uncomfortable and unpleasant. There’s nothing arousing or enjoyable
about itchy, unsightly stubble!

I believe that the increasing emphasis
on hairlessness derives at least partially from an attempt to
distance ourselves from our animal natures. Sex is messy, smelly,
sometimes rough, sometimes awkward, and I think society would like to
forget or deny that. The feminine ideal is porcelain smooth,
flawless, poised and cool. How often do you see fashion models – or
porn queens for that matter – sweaty and disheveled, the way people
really are when they’re fucking?

I’m sure this is partly the result of
my age and experience, but to me, a woman without pubic hair looks
unnatural and unappealing. In my stories, I frequently mention the
luxurious tangles that shield my heroine’s sex from her partners’
view. Those partners love to burrow into that damp, fragrant thicket,
breathing in the intoxicating scent of an aroused woman. You’ll find
my characters enjoying the ripe musk lingering in the bush of
their male companions, too. I’ve written a handful of tales in which
a character has a bare pubis, but there’s always a narrative
justification for this choice. In both fiction and the real world, I
prefer lovers who are comfortable with their bodies, men and women
who aren’t ashamed to recognize that we’re slightly less horny
cousins of the sexually voracious bonobos.

“It’s just a fad,” I’m sure some
readers will counter. “Eventually the pendulum will swing the other
way.” Perhaps they’re right. Recently, though, I read that men have
hopped on the depilation bandwagon as well. The New York Times
(http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/12/fashion/men-turn-to-bikini-waxing.html)
reports that salons offering Brazilians for guys are doing a booming
business, at least in urban areas. I found this article made me feel
vaguely queasy, especially when one stylist commented, “It’s about
maintaining yourself and keeping things clean.”

“Maintaining yourself”! Like a car
or some other mechanism. Please! But this view seems to be popular.
Alas, you’ll rarely find a hairy romance hero. Check out the covers
from your favorite erotic romance publisher, and you’ll find a high
proportion feature well-muscled men with chests as smooth as a baby’s
butt.

Perhaps these images attract women
because they’ve known hairy men who did not, in fact, give much
attention to hygiene. I’ll admit that hair intensifies unpleasant as
well as pleasant smells, but a shower will handle this problem at
least as well as waxing.

It’s come to the point that women who
retain their pubic hair have become exotic fetish objects. Check out
any vendor
of adult films and you’ll find titles like “Horny Hairy Girls”,
“Pubic Hair for Sale”, and “That Teen’s Got a Bushy Pussy”.

I suppose I’m just a product of my
times, my aesthetic and sexual preferences determined by my history.
I grew up in the sixties and seventies, when abundant hair was a
symbol of freedom. Younger readers won’t necessarily have these
associations.

I still find it depressing, though,
that women will spend their hard-earned cash and endure considerable
pain to conform to this twisted notion of attractiveness.

My depilation blues even inspired a
story. “Shorn”, in Lustfully Ever After: Fairytale Erotic
Romance, (edited by Kristina Wright), is a re-telling of
Rapunzel. In my version of the tale, the princess is imprisoned in
an inaccessible tower not to protect her from ravishers but to punish
her for being unwilling to cut her hair – or shave her pubis. If
you’re curious, you can read a brief excerpt here.

So what do you think? Am I being silly?
Or does the current obsession with eliminating the hirsute go beyond
the question of fashion to have negative implications for our
sexuality?

Why Fifty Shades of Grey Matters

by | July 14, 2012 | | 28 Comments

Vanessa Redgrave as the masochistic nun
in Ken Russell’s The Devils

On the social consumption of sin as spectacle & its exploitation in the marketplace

I’ve run across a number of erotica writers who’ve said they haven’t and won’t be reading Fifty Shades of Grey.  In all honestly, this blows my mind. You can try to dismiss it, as many critics have, by calling it ‘mommy porn’. You can deplore its writing style – lord knows, even die-hard fans don’t attempt to defend the poor quality of the prose. But you can’t ignore the fact that it has now sold over 20 Million copies in the US. In the UK it became the fastest selling novel of all time.

As writers, it is important for us to interrogate its success and to attempt to understand what it means for the genre, for levels of explicitness in mainstream fiction, and for the way publishers are going to inevitably behave in the light of it.

I have a theory.

Less than three years ago, some very prominent writers and agents in the publishing world told me, flatly, that there was no market for erotica. It was unsaleable. It was a niche product that held little interest for them and would tick along at its own obscure pace. You can put sex in your murder mystery, or your sci-fi novel, or your romance, they said. But a straight-up erotic novel, with sexual desire as a central theme, was simply not saleable.

But they were wrong. I think that the rising levels of explicit sexuality in film, television, and the ubiquity of porn on the web meant that there was a large mainstream audience whose tolerance for and interest in fiction with heavy erotic content had been growing for years. And it is a comment on just how out of touch mainstream publishers have been with their market that, with a very few exceptions that were associated with individual authors, they did not cotton onto it. Many, many well written erotic novels, with good character development and credible plots, came across their desks and they slush-piled them.

Along comes Fifty Shades of Grey. A novel that started off as Twilight fanfic, and gained a considerable devoted audience within that context. Its author, E.L. James, is a retired television executive who had some advantages over most erotica writers. She knew the media landscape and the concept of ‘audience’ very well. She understood her own work as ‘marketable property’. She had a keen sense of how to pitch the work just right to convince publishers that they should reconsider their ambivalence toward erotica. But mostly, I think she had an instinctive understanding of how a mainstream public needed to find engagement with kinky sex, while providing them with a moral escape clause.

Fifty Shades of Grey does an interesting dance with the explicit. It revels in the details of the taboo of BDSM while seeming to condemn it. Like the torrid pseudo-journalistic pieces written about Tiger Woods’ illicit affair, it whispers to a rather creepy corner of the mainstream psyche which has a propensity to enjoy the titillation inherent in a sin while, at the same time, censuring Mr. Woods for being such a faithless bastard.

And many, many readers love this. They can masturbate furiously to the scenes played out in the Red Room of Pain, while waiting for the heroine to cure Mr. Grey of his perversions.

 I am reminded of the masses who enjoyed the spectacle of the Salem Witch Trials or denunciations of heretics during the Spanish Inquisition. 

“She consorted lewdly with the Devil!” the inquisitor proclaims, partly for the judges but loudly enough to entertain the masses. He lovingly details the proof of her perfidy. The women gasp and feel a quiver between their thighs right before they all scream, “Burn the witch!” If you’ve never seen Ken Russell’s “The Witches“, based on the historical events of the trials of the witches in Loudun, France, in 1634, you should. He understood and then illustrated the eroticism and hypocrisy that plays out in these sorts of public discourse on morality and sin with an insight that few others have.

I don’t think a large portion of mainstream society has evolved much since then. And for erotica writers, who usually situate themselves firmly in the sex-positive camp, this is very hard to comprehend. We write novels about how erotic experience and the exploration of new sexual territories helps us grow as individuals. For us, sex in a doorway. Very often our themes are about revelation, completion, redemption through experience. Not through shame or rejection or closing down our sexual options.

From the point of view of mainstream publishers, Fifty Shades of Grey is simply a very successful product. In the last year, in the editorial boardrooms in London and New York, large publishers have spent time analyzing the success of the novel and figuring out how they can get on the bandwagon.  They may not be risk-takers when it comes to new literary product anymore, but they’re damn good post-game quarterbackers. The moral dynamics that underlie FSOG will not have escaped them, nor will the poor quality of the writing.

If you had hoped to produce a ‘better written Fifty Shades’: “Thirty Shades of Grammar” or “Eighty Shades of Character Development” or “Twenty-Six Shades of Plot”, I don’t think your efforts are going to be appreciated.  Publishers have proof that the vast majority of people who have bought, read and enjoyed the series simply don’t care about the quality of the writing.  In fact, its very hamfistedness may play a subtextual role in convincing the reader of Anastasia’s innocence and her genuine desire to cure the perverted Mr. Grey.

Of course, in the over 40 million world-wide readers, some of them will wish for and seek out better written erotica. And there will be some who are emotionally and sexually honest enough to admit the BDSM in the novel was what drew them to it and felt unaccountably let down when the heroine finally succeeds in leading Mr. Grey into the vanilla light.  It will not be a large percentage of them. And, consequently, there will be something of an upsurge in erotica sales for years to come.

But I don’t believe it will be the explosion we are hoping for. I genuinely hope I’m wrong in this, but I don’t think I am. Nonetheless, we may have gained a few more intrepid souls.

Breaking Out of My Comfort Zone

by | April 26, 2012 | | 5 Comments

By Lucy Felthouse


I started out writing erotica on a dare. I had no idea about
the market, what was being published, or what wasn’t… but once I’d written a
short erotic story which got a very good reception, all that changed. I found
that I’d really enjoyed writing the story, so I wanted to continue. What’s
more, I wanted to get my work published. I started researching books and
magazines, and continued to write naughty short stories.

I was very lucky in that I got one of my first few short
stories published in the now defunct Scarlet
magazine. The buzz of publication was immense. It spurred me on to pen more
smut, and soon afterwards I was fortunate enough to have a story accepted for
publication by Xcite Books, in one of their anthologies. From there, I wrote
and wrote. Through University and through a full time job (I’m now
self-employed), I never stopped. But although my plots became more adventurous,
the sex became quirkier, kinkier, and (hopefully) the quality of my work
improved, one thing stayed the same. The length of my work. Granted, my average
word count per story increased from two to four thousand words, and I even started
creeping up towards twelve thousand words on occasion, but I was still firmly
writing in the short story category.

Why? Because it became my comfort zone. I entertained vague
ideas of novels, and stashed them away in the darkest corners of my brain to be
brought out “one day,” but stuck with short stories. That is, until I
was enticed out of my comfort zone, like a donkey with a carrot. I was asked if
I would like to write a novella for a brand new range of books being put
together by Xcite Books. I umm-ed and ahh-ed for a little while, then sent back
a “yes please,” before I changed my mind. I knew that once I agreed to
it, I wouldn’t back out.

Then I panicked. What would I write about? Did I have a plot
detailed enough to sustain a novella length piece of work? Would it erotic
enough? Romantic enough? Interesting enough? My panicking was irrelevant, of
course, because I’d signed a contract and promised to deliver a manuscript by a
certain date, so I could waste time worrying, or just start writing. So I did.
And it was a huge learning curve for me. I actually drafted out a plan before I
started, which I’d never done before.

Eventually, I finished it. My first novella. I read it,
re-read it, tweaked it. Then I hit send and promptly panicked again in case the
editor hated it. Thankfully, she didn’t. Other than a couple of minor changes,
it was good to go. Woohoo! Then it was a waiting game until the release date…
which was this month.

Yes, April brought the release of my first ever novella, as
part of Xcite Books’ The Secret Library range
of books. My novella is called Off the
Shelf, and appears in the book entitled Silk
Stockings. Here’s the blurb:

At 35, travel writer
Annalise is fed up with insensitive comments about being left on the shelf.
It’s not as if she doesn’t want a man, but her busy career doesn’t leave her
much time for relationships. Sexy liaisons with passing acquaintances give
Annalise physical satisfaction, but she needs more than that. She wants a man
who will satisfy her mind as well as her body. But where will she find someone
like that? It seems Annalise may be in luck when a new member of staff starts
working in the bookshop at the airport she regularly travels through. Damien
appears to tick all the boxes; he’s gorgeous, funny and intelligent, and he
shares Annalise’s love of books and travel.


The trouble is, Damien’s shy and
Annalise is terrified of rejection. Can they overcome their fears and admit
their feelings, or are they doomed to remain on the shelf?

You can check out an
excerpt and the buy links here: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-secret-library-silk-stockings/

So, I eventually broke out of my short story comfort zone.
Granted, my longest piece of writing since the novella has been twelve thousand
words, but I broke out once, so I can do it again, right? 😉

What’s Love Got To Do With It?

by | March 21, 2012 | | 10 Comments

By Lisabet SaraiSally and Harry live on opposite coasts. Although they work in the same field, they’ve never met. At the conclusion of a professional conference both have attended, Sally discovers her plane home has been canceled, so she decides to stay another night in the luxurious conference hotel. Harry resides only an hour’s drive away, but after the intensive socializing of the conference, he’s disinclined to go back to his lonely bachelor apartment.Nursing a beer in the hotel bar, Harry can’t help but notice the unusual woman sitting by herself at a corner table. He introduces himself and offers to buy her a drink. Before long they’re chatting as if they’d been friends for years. Sally is charmed by Harry’s chocolate-brown eyes and infectious laugh. Harry finds his companion’s outspoken intelligence as much a turn-on as her voluptuous figure. Conversation gradually morphs into flirtation and then into outright groping. They adjourn to Sally’s room and have the most incredibly pleasurable, mind-blowing sex in either’s experience. Waking the next morning, entwined in each other’s arms, they make slow, sensuous love. Sally gives Harry her business card before rushing off to catch her plane.Ending A: Harry returns to work, but he can’t get Sally out of his mind. He calls and she tells him that he’s been in her thoughts, too. Harry doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he can’t argue with his heart, which tells him that Sally is as close to a soul mate as he’s ever going to find. He takes a leave of absence from his job, books a flight to her city, and shows up at her door at 2 AM, begging her to let him into her life. Sally’s joy at seeing him overwhelms her irritation at being rudely awakened. She drags him into her bedroom, where they have loud, passionate sex. As Harry is coming, he blurts out a proposal of marriage.Ending B: Harry returns to work. His whole world seems brighter whenever he remembers his time with Sally. He thinks about calling her, but is leery of invading her privacy. As time goes on, his memory of her face fades, but he masturbates to the recollection of her uninhibited screams as she climaxed around his cock. A year later he attends the same conference and notices a note with his name on the message board. It turns out to be an invitation to Sally’s room.Either of these synopses might describe a story I’d written. I believe that I could make either outcome plausible, sexy, and emotionally satisfying. In my view, A and B describe parallel universes. You never know how a chance encounter will play out.In the eyes of many publishers, though – not to mention readers – A and B are far from equivalent. In the first resolution, Harry loves Sally and we presume that his feelings are reciprocated. No matter how often, how enthusiastically, and how explicitly the characters shag, the fact that there’s love involved somehow raises the tale to a higher plane. Story A is not a story about sex – it’s about love.Story B, some might argue, focuses more on appetite. Clearly Harry-B feels affection and concern for Sally-B – more, perhaps, than Harry-A, who barges into her life and drags her out of bed in order to declare his love. Both Harry-B and Sally-B appear to be content allowing their encounter to stand on its own, as one of those incandescent, magical connections that sex sometimes creates – although Sally-B seems inclined to try for a repeat performance. In story B, though, Love doesn’t enter into the equation, at least not overtly. Story B is erotica – or in the eyes of some, just plain smut.The two versions of the tale might feature an equal number of moans, shudders, licks, sucks, cocks and climaxes. Nevertheless, Story A will be viewed as more worthy and more socially acceptable than Story B – just because of the L-word.If you go to All Romance Ebooks/Omni Lit (http://www.allromanceebooks.com), you find a list of categories in the left sidebar. One category is “Erotica”. Click on that link. You’ll find yourself at a page that tells explains you must log in before you can see any books in that category.On the other hand, you’ll also see categories like “GBLT”, “Multiple Partners” and “BDSM”. Out of curiosity, I chose the latter. This time there were lots of books listed, some of which appear to include fairly intense kink. But that’s okay, apparently, because the individuals involved love each other and are in a committed relationship.I’m sorry, but this just doesn’t make sense to me. Does love in some miraculous way sanctify and sanitize the sex? Don’t get me wrong. Love is a wonderful thing. I’ll agree that sexual experiences are frequently both more intense and more satisfying with a partner (or partners) whom you love. However, the division between erotic romance (where sexual partners declare their love) and erotica (where they don’t necessarily mention the L-word) strikes me as artificial. And the difference in status is just plain unfair.My first novel, Raw Silk, was written and originally marketed as erotica, by the late lamented Black Lace. It features a woman exploring her sexuality with three different men – plus a woman or two – trying to understand just what she really wants. The conclusion happens to fit romance conventions – sort of – in that Kate chooses the Master who has recognized and cultivated her desire for submission over her long-time lover from America or the charming, sexually-omnivorous Thai prince who’s been wooing her. However, the sexual variety in the book, not to mention the transgressive nature of many of its scenes, qualifies it as erotica, at least in my perspective.When the book went out of print, I resold it Total-E-Bound, where it has been reborn as erotic romance. Aside from some edits of vocabulary and punctuation, the book didn’t change. (Of course, by that time, Black Lace had re-branded its books as romance as well.)I had the same experience with my second novel Incognito, which presents an even wider range of sexual scenarios. Yes, there’s a burgeoning romance in Incognito, but it’s set against a backdrop of sex with strangers, ménage and swinging, BDSM, age play and pseudo-incest, lesbianism, homosexuality, cross dressing, exhibitionism… well, you get the picture. Yet by some strange quirk, Love makes it all okay.These days I deliberately choose to write erotic romance stories – at least sometimes – and I’ve had reasonable success publishing them (though not necessarily selling them!) I’m something of a romantic at heart anyway. I have to be honest, though, and admit that I prefer the greater freedom that comes with writing stories that will be labeled as erotica. Even though they don’t sell as well. Even though admitting that my characters don’t always fall in love will result in my books being hidden away behind the digital equivalent of a brown paper wrapper.Ironically, my erotica tends to be less physical and more emotionally nuanced that much of the explicit erotic romance I encounter. Even when writing romance, I sometimes find myself struggling to deliver the detailed, explicit sex scenes that seem to be popular with today’s romance readers. Go figure.I entered my user name and password at ARe, just to see what showed up in their erotica category. It’s an incredibly mixed bag. Porn-like titles such as Open Your Legs for My Family and Caught in a Werewolf Gangbang mingle with romancey titles like Keep Me Safe and Trust in Me. I noticed books by erotica authors I know and respect, as well as books where the blurb made it clear that the authors could use some serious editing help.Oh, and there were over 9000 entries. This made it pretty difficult to see whether my books showed up there. Somebody must be reading all these books, though. Certainly there are a good number of people writing them.Erotic romance readers have some pretty weird notions about erotica. They seem to believe that sexually explicit fiction, without love, is basically trash – without plot, character development, style or suspense. I’ve read dismissive, somewhat insulting blog comments evincing the opinion that, if there’s no love involved, it’s “just porn”.Sigh. As if writing porn were something anyone could do – with skill, at least.Sometimes I feel like shaking them. “What’s love got to do with it?” I’d say. “Not every sexual experience ends happily. Not every happy sexual experience results in an ever-after. Don’t you get bored knowing ahead of time how your stories end?”They don’t seem to get bored, any more than the folks who purchased Open Your Legs for My Family will be bored when they get hold of Bend Over for My Family.Maybe, as usual, I’m just asking for too much.

Fingers in Many Pies by Lucy Felthouse

by | January 26, 2012 | | 6 Comments

For my first post on the ERWA blog, I wanted to do a bit of
an introductory piece. Firstly, I’d like to say that I was delighted to be
asked to contribute to the blog, particularly amongst such esteemed company, so
thank you!

As the title of this blog post indicates, I have my fingers
in many pies. If people ask what my job is, I often say “a bit of
everything.” Naturally, that’s not exactly true, but I do lots of
different things which make up my full time (and the rest!) job.

I’m an erotica and erotic romance writer, with work published
by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Noble Romance,
Ravenous Romance, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books.

I’ve also edited two anthologies, Uniform Behaviour (uniform erotica) and Seducing the Myth (erotic myths and legends), and there’s a good chance I’ll be editing another anthology at
some point, too, so watch this space!

I spend rather a lot of my time hopping between doing
promotional work for other writers, developing websites and also editing,
copy-editing and proof-reading. This is for my business, Writer Marketing
Services (http://www.writermarketing.co.uk).

Finally, I run an erotica website which features author
profiles, interviews, competitions, guest posts, news and reviews. It’s for
readers, writers, and those of us who are both. Basically, anything that helps
promote the genre is welcome on the site. It’s helped me gain a reputation as
an advocate for erotica and means I get sent lots of sexy books to review! Take
a peek at http://eroticaforall.co.uk,
where authors will find a page telling them how to submit content for inclusion
on the site, and readers will hopefully have a damn good time looking around
and discovering new authors and books!

So, in a nutshell, that’s what I do. What I love is how it all
ties so closely together. I can go from writing an erotic story, to reading
one, to reviewing one, to promoting one, all in one day (or even less)! I get a
lot of variety in my days which is fantastic, and I love everything that I do.
I get to talk to the most fascinating people and do some very interesting work.

And who can ask for any more than that?

This concludes my blog post for this quarter. Now I’ve
introduced myself, I’ll be much more interesting next time, I promise. And just
to redeem myself a little… here’s where you’ll find the smut: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk. 

Hot Chilli Erotica

Hot Chilli Erotica

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Babysitting the Baumgartners - The Movie
From Adam & Eve - Based on the Book by New York Times Bestselling Authors Selena Kitt

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