I’m In Best Women’s Erotica 2009

I really don’t know why I haven’t blogged about this before… I was actually bursting to tell the news when I first discovered my story had been accepted into Best Women’s Erotica 2009. But then I wasn’t sure if it was a secret, and then I just never got around to it. I thought I’d wait until the publication date.

So anyway, my point is, I have a story in Best Women’s Erotica 2009 which is officially released on December 11 (but you can order it from Amazon now). What’s cool about this is it’s the first time I’ve had anything published – I mean in actual, real-life on paper with real ink-type stuff – for about five years. And certainly it’s been a long time between erotic story drinks.

My first break into the world of writing and publishing was a nice little dirty story which appeared in Australian Women’s Forum in 1998. It was about a woman who tested sex toys, a subject that, at that time, I thought was incredibly unusual and titillating*. I still remember finding out that it was going to appear in the magazine and realising that I was going to get real money for it. Euphoric doesn’t begin to describe it.

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That first thrill of seeing my name in print turned into a writing hobby that then turned into a part time job. And then it turned into this exciting internet experiment whereby I discovered my writing could actually make me money online.

Fast forward to 2008 and everything that I write is intended for online publication. I have millions of words floating around in cyberspace, the majority of them on this blog and at For The Girls. This earns me a very good living and I’m aware that I’m doing far better now than if I’d become the romance novelist I’d wanted to be as a kid.

At the same time, online publication has no prestige. People don’t call you an “author” unless your name is in print out in the meat world. And part of me hankers for that old-world glory.

So I sat down and deliberately wrote a story for BEW2009, hoping that it would be good enough to appear on paper. And by crikey if I didn’t lose sleep and sweat over that story. I reworked it repeatedly and worried that it was clunky or amateurish or just unsexy. When you self-publish you can lose perspective on what works and what doesn’t and, yes, you can also get a little lazy. Not this story though. It was honed within an inch of its life.

Thankfully, it made the grade and I was once again euphoric.

I must warn you, the story is about anal sex. No, stop clenching that butt, ladies, because anal sex can be very, very hot – when it’s done right. And my story is about doing it right.

Here’s a brief extract:

I’ve heard it said that women will try anal sex twice: once to see what it’s like and a second time to see if it really is that bad. I used to be one of those women.

The first time I ever tried it was in college. I was young and stupid – par for the course. I offered up my ass after much impassioned prompting from my then-boyfriend, Dennis. There was no preparation, no lube, no pleasure at all. What was more awful than the cringing pain and fervent wish for the fucking to be over was the fact that I collapsed into tears afterwards, turning my face to the wall. I remember Dennis worryingly stroking my brow and apologizing fervently, but I couldn’t speak. I’d been a willing participant, eager to try something new, but it was a sordid loss of that particular virginity, one that left me feeling violated and strangely sad.

From then on I was certain that anal was something men wanted but women shouldn’t offer. What was the point, after all? Guys seemed mad for it, if only so they could boast about it to their friends. What sane, pleasure-loving woman would want to stick a cock in her ass?

Stephan changed all that.

Editor Violet Blue has posted about the book and includes her rather fabulous introduction which is well worth a read. I’m grateful to Violet for giving me the opportunity to be “properly published” again. It’s an honour to be included in this collection.

* You can still read the story at For The Girls, by the way. And sex toy testing isn’t nearly as sexy as I’d imagined.