A quick housecleaning note about how I price my books, bundles, and collections.
A novel is any books over 50K words or about 200 pages.
I consider a novella to be a book of 20K words to 49K words or between 50 and 150 pages.
Short Stories: $3
My short stories are anything under 20K words. They usually take about a half hour to an hour to read.
Short Story collections: Prices vary but are generally the same as above
Most of my short story collections are priced at $3, unless the book is significantly longer.
I sell my print books at the lowest price Amazon allows while still offering me a small profit. Most of them are under $10.
My bundles vary, but they offer vastly discounted prices for those of you interested in buying a few books at the same time. For example, if you buy all forty of my books, it only costs $40 as opposed to over $150.
Hey beautiful people, I have a new book out! It’s been so cold up here that I set this one on the beach during a very hot summer day.
Our hero, Emily, is seemingly on a mission to fuck as many people as possible without her husband knowing about it. But things are more complicated than they seem.
I have a little trouble describing this book. It’s clear from the beginning that Emily’s husband is pretty much a dick, so in some ways, it’s a story of revenge. Her revenge is complicated and intense, to say the least. How far is she willing to go to deny him what he wants the most while offering him just enough to keep herself safe?
I hot, messy, and filthy, this book turns some porn tropes on their head. The last chapter is a lot, but I hope you’ll get there and be right with Emily as she does her best to get through it.
I have a new book out! It’s a gritty, fun, sad, beautiful, and erotic look at the two weeks leading up to Christmas during the winter of 2000. From big parties to cold park benches, these two lovers find love and joy amongst grief and sorrow.
Here’s a bit of fun from the second chapter:
“Well, on the bright side, I don’t have to go to work today.”
“That’s good. I don’t want to go outside unless it’s to go somewhere warm. And with stronger coffee. Or whiskey.”
“Well, on the downside, I don’t ever have to go to work again.”
“Are you serious? What the hell happened?”
“Something about changing things around, a shakeup at the top, and a reorganization with a goal towards growth, which means my whole department got the ax. Just like that. Before bonuses were due.”
“That’s fucking bullshit,” Heather said, resting her arm on my chest. “How can they do that? Don’t they have to give you at least a few weeks or something?”
“No, they made sure of that already. None of us were technically employees, so they don’t have to do shit. We were contractors hired by a third party company that leases our labor or some other bullshit like that. I don’t know, but I do know I’m fucked. On the bright side, my Christmas list got a little shorter this year.”
“Don’t be like that. We’ll figure something out. Your lease doesn’t end until February, and I have some money left over from my last gig. Plus, you have the life insurance.”
“It’s not even the money,” I said rolling to my back. “It’s just the fucking ease in which they dropped us. A goddamn phone call on a snowy morning and that’s it. I don’t even have to go in to pick anything up. I’m just done. Nothing to do. Happy fucking Christmas.”
“Maybe I can cheer you up,” Heather said, sliding all the way on top of me. She was naked under the covers, and her body was warm and soft. I let her kiss me and then I kissed her back and maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Hell, it was probably better than having to work all through December.
“Let’s just do this until January,” I said, holding her tighter as I felt myself grow hard.
“Do what? I was just kissing you. I would never do anything dirty.”
She was on her back a second later with a smile on her face and my hands on her wrists, pinning them above her head. My excitement was instant, and I looked down at her as she struggled against me.
“Please mister, don’t,” she pleaded.
“But you’re so pretty,” I said, rubbing myself against her wet skin.
“But I don’t know you,” she cooed, “and besides, you don’t have a condom on.”
“Condoms are for sailors,” I said pushing into her as both of us looked down at our connection. Even after a year, I was still mesmerized by the sight of our bodies together, and as she took me inside her, I let myself fall against her chest as I kissed her mouth with just a touch of real anger.
“You feel so good,” she whispered, kissing me back as I held her down again.
“You feel good,” I said. “It’s probably because you’ve done this so many times. It’s probably because you’re such a sweet little slut, isn’t that right?”
“I’m a good girl,” she said, reaching between her legs. “I only sleep with men I like. Well, most of the time that is.”
“You tramp!” I said, fucking her faster and harder.
“Jerk-face,” she said before pulling my head down for a kiss again as I felt all of her body join mine in an instant. Out of the corner of my eye, I could still see the snow falling, and it brought a silence so profound that all I could hear was the sound of our skin and the faint gasps of our fragile breath. Deep within her, I began to feel myself let go and she kissed my face, again and again, the smile never leaving her.
Well, I just finished the rough draft of my new Christmas book. It’s a short story coming in at just under 18,000 words. I’ll give it a little room before I dive in to edit it and get it into shape, but hopefully, I can publish it early next week in time for the holidays.
Aside from being a dirty but emotional ride through New York in the year 2000, there are some fun overlaps and cameo’s from Disgusting Beautiful Immoral which felt a lot more powerful than I expected. It was strange to write about those characters at all, even the little bit that happens in this book. But I liked it and it felt deliciously indulgent.
I ended up naming each chapter after a Christmas song, which means it’s my first book that comes with a playlist! It’s a somewhat odd mix of tunes although I’m sure some of them are very familiar.
A while back my distributor shut down, meaning most of my books were deleted from the big online retailers like Apple, B&N, and Google Play. I’ve since found a new distributor (including my own direct sales) and I’m happy to say that most of my books are back up!
Thanks for all your patience! Google Play is still in the works, but hopefully they’ll be back up there soon as well.
Jessica climbed onto his lap a second later and their kiss was not tender. He bit her lip as his hands moved up and down her body, squeezing her breasts and her ass like a beast. He kissed down her neck to her chest, taking each nipple between his teeth before his fingers slid between her thighs to her shaved cunt.
“Fuck, you are so goddamn wet already. How long have you wanted to fuck me? How long have you wanted this?” he asked, placing her hand on his cock through his jeans. She let out a long sigh, and for just a second she looked over her shoulder at me. He turned her head back to him and kissed her again before standing her up in front of him. “How long?”
“Three years,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for three years, Paul. Since I was twenty-three.”
“You really are a slut. You should have told me sooner. Think of all the sex we could have been having.” He pulled his shirt off over his head to reveal a body I didn’t know existed. His abs were clear and defined, and his shoulders were strong and wide. She was on her knees an instant later, and he stood in front of her and watched as she undid his pants. He dropped his belt next to her on the floor, and before I could even think, his jeans were around his knees, and she had his cock in her hand. It was only semi-hard, and already it was big. Her fingers barely closed around it, and the look on her face was ravenous.
Without waiting for another second, she opened her mouth and took him between her lips and as far down her throat as she could. She gagged, but with her hand wrapped firmly around his shaft, she did it again, sucking him into her mouth over and over. My own cock was in my hand a second later, and she was lost in her effort. He grunted as she blew him, and within seconds he was rock hard in her mouth. I watched as she leaned back, and his cock was huge as it left her. I was amazed she could fit it all down her throat, but he simply smiled at her and called her a good girl.
“It’s so fucking big,” she moaned, kissing his head, and jerking him off slowly with her hand. “And it’s so beautiful. And thick. And…”
“Is this what you need, you little whore? Do you need a big cock in that tight young cunt of yours? Is that it?”
“Yes,” she moaned, standing up and kissing him once more. His fingers were back on her cunt a second later, and before I knew what was happening he lifted her up and dropped her onto the bed on her back. She cried out as she landed, but her legs opened instantly as he stood between them, forcing her knees wider with his hands.
“Touch your pussy,” he growled, his hand wrapped around his cock, just like I was doing. She fingered herself, sliding two fingers deep inside her as he watched, and it was the most pornographic thing I had ever seen. He stood between my wife’s legs watching her touch herself, and the begging started instantly.
“Please fuck me,” she moaned. “Please, I need that monster inside me. I need it so badly.”
He leaned forward, pulling her closer to him, and I watched as he rubbed his cock against the lips of her cunt. Just as he was about to thrust into her, she put a hand on his chest and whispered something I couldn’t hear. He grunted, but reached over to the bedside table and tore open the condom. It was on him a second later, and then he was back against her folds as she begged him once more.
“Louder, you little bitch. I want the whole neighborhood to know you need this big cock in your cunt. I want your husband to cry himself to sleep knowing you’ll be dreaming about me.”
“Please!” she yelled, trying to push down around him. “Please fuck me, Paul. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”
I had never heard her scream so loudly, and a second later he started to push inside her, changing her demands to guttural groans of pleasure and want.
“Oh fuck,” she moaned as he pushed further and further inside her until all I could see was his ass on top of her as he fucked my young wife on our bed. She was coming in seconds, and he laughed as she screamed out his name while she clenched around him.
“Come here,” he said turning to me. I didn’t pause before walking to them, my hand still on my cock. “Look at your wife’s cunt stretched around my fat cock. Do you like that? Do you like seeing me fuck her? She came the second I was inside her. God, she’s fucking tight.”
“Yes,” I moaned, staring at her body in awe. She was, in fact, stretched around him, and he was moving faster and faster, fucking her harder with each thrust. “God yes.”
She looked at me for a moment, her eyes nearly closed in ecstasy as they fucked, and then she was back on him, staring at him as he slammed into her. She pulled him down for a kiss, and there were tears in her eyes as she came over and over again, moaning his name in between gasps of pleasure.
“I want to come in this pussy,” he growled, his fingers touching her clit and then grabbing the condom at the base. “Let me take this off.”
“Oh god,” she moaned again as she thrust up to meet him. “I can’t. Not this time.”
He moved faster and faster, and it was clear that he was close to coming.
“How about this ass then?” he said, pushing a finger into her tight hole.
“Oh fuck, I’ve never done that,” she said. “Just come for me now, please let me feel you. Maybe next time, next time you can take it off.”
“And your ass?” he said, slowing down. He pulled out for a moment and she looked frantic. She looked back and forth between me and him, and there was nothing but lust and need in her eyes.
“Yes, my ass too,” she finally moaned. “Anything you want, just please don’t stop. I want to feel you come.”
“Promise,” he said, “I want to you hear you promise in front of me and your husband.”
“Oh god, anything,” she cried. “I promise, I promise. Next time you can fuck my ass. My husband has never done it. You can have my virgin ass, and next time you can take off the condom and come inside me. I don’t care, I’ll do anything. You can fill me with your come as many times as you want. Oh god, just please don’t stop.”
“Good girl,” he groaned, pushing back inside her…
When you’re settling in for the first time, or maybe it’s just the first time in a long while, it’s important to give yourself space to truly indulge. So why not lay back on the couch with a nice glass of rose´ and let your fingers do the talking?
After all, you’re not a child anymore.
Visiting your parents for the holidays only to discover they voted for Trump
The holidays are tough for many of us even under the best of circumstances. But when politics come up, space is tight, and your old bedroom has walls that are paper thin, there’s just one traditional choice.
During dessert, surreptitiously fill your coffee mug with a generous helping of your dad’s twenty-five-year-old Macallan. Drop it off in your room before ending the meal with a few choice words concerning Putin, Exxon Mobil, and Wikileaks. Smile as you climb under the covers and remind yourself that you did your best.
With the mug in one hand and the other hand deep beneath the warm blankets, taste the warm malty goodness and revel in your wit and satisfaction. You deserve it.
When you’re riding in the back of an uber with an old friend
When you’re in the back of a cab with that old friend you only see a few times a year, the party doesn’t start until nearly midnight, and you want to catch up the best way you know how, it’s traditional to share a can of Sofia Coppola’s Sofia Blanc de Blancs Sparkling Wine, preferably with two straws. Lay back and look out the window as you remember your times together in college.
Try not to slurp at the end, but don’t worry if you do. Afterall, your night is just beginning.
When you’re driving and Uber and your customers are having fun in the back seat with a can of bubbly
When you realize the two passengers you just picked up are enjoying themselves in the back of the car there’s little you can do. Afterall, you don’t want to be a creeper, but neither do you want to be left out.
Sneak a hand under your seat and pull out that bottle of Lillet Blanc you’ve been saving for just this occasion. They’re too busy to notice as you bring it to your lips for a long slow drink before you subtly join in the fun.
But remember, more than two or three sips is just bad manners. Afterall, you are the one driving.
Port Authority Bathroom on a Friday night before hitting the clubs
You’ve left Jersey behind, but that doesn’t mean you don’t still have that Jersey spirit. And what’s a better way to start off your night in the city than a nice wank in the second floor south tower’s men’s room?
If you can find a stall with a door, settle in for some alone time in the near privacy of your very own piece of New York real estate. Open that flask of manhattans you mixed at home with the Old Overholt and Antica vermouth. You thankfully didn’t forget the orange bitters this time, and the cold seat is hardly a concern. Feel the warmth in your throat and stomach as you settle in for a leisurely release.
After all, there’s no place like home.
Under a blanket on an airplane when there’s an empty seat next to you and a view of the Grand Canyon out the window
Maybe it’s the passing flight attendant, the purr of the four engines, or possibly the beauty of the gaping chasm beneath you that turn you on, but you have the privacy and the time to truly enjoy yourself. Order up a classic gin martini (with a twist if they have one) and cover yourself with a blanket.
It won’t be perfect, but what does it matter? You’re used to traveling, and you have hours before you land. Take a few sips before you begin, but remember, it’s traditional to save most for the aftermath.
Because is there anything better than looking down at that red rock splendor after a quiet yet intense orgasms as you sip your gin martini? We certainly don’t think so.
You were just dumped but it’s for the best and besides this hotel has a whirlpool bathtub
We’ve all been there, haven’t we? They left and while a part of you knew it was coming, maybe even welcomed it, you find that the anger outweighs your typical magnanimity.
But the tub is large and the water is hot and it’s time to get to know yourself again. When was the last time you indulged in your own pleasure? When was the last time you let it all be about you?
So climb in with a bottle of the 1982 Chateau Lafite Rothschild Bordeaux without a glass in sight. This isn’t a time for manners or restraint. This is your time, so lay back and enjoy it as the jets begin to bubble and the warm water helps you slip easily into the right frame of mind.
Sure, the bottle costs over $2,000. But after all, you still have their American Express card, don’t you?
With thanks to my friend Danny for reminding me of many of these traditions.
Have you ever thought about writing something real? You know, something important?
It’s not usually asked with real malice, but you can bet your sweet ass that I prickle all the same each time someone puts the question to me. I often nod and smile, saying I write all sorts of things, but I try to stick with what I know best, and sex is at the top of the list. Everyone has sex I’ll tell them, or at least most people do. And for so long we’ve left it out of our books as if it’s not a giant part of the human experience.
But none of that is enough. That borderline polite conversation doesn’t get to the heart of it, and the heart is important. The blood is important. The breath is important.
Erotica is important, yes because sex is a part of the human experience, but of course so is water. We all eat and we all have to sleep too, so why don’t I write about those things instead? What is it about sex that stands out as something in need of examination through fiction?
And the answer is that we’ve perverted the sexual experience in the most traditional sense of the word. We’ve taken a normal part of human existence and loaded it up with so much baggage that the only way to unpack it is through myth, fiction, and dialog. Sure we can write textbooks, but they only give us part of the solution. Educating our minds as to facts is important, but we tell stories for a different reason.
Stories allow us to experience something without having to do it. There’s a great lie that says if we’re exposed to violence or sex through games, films, or novels that we’ll act them out, but in fact, these tales have always allowed us to feel things first and then decide how to act. We know what’s it’s like to be burned by hubris without having to fly close to the sun. A textbook can tell you what an orgasm is, but it can’t tell you what it feels like. A how-to-film can show you what sex looks like, but it can’t give you the emotional sensations of experiencing it.
But a great novel or a great film can make your heart race and your palms sweat. A good book can pull tears from your eyes and laughter from your chest, the experiences almost as real as if they were happening to you. So when we write about sex, we let ourselves explore our own fantasies in a way that is safe, sane, and consensual before we test drive them with another person. Knowing what a blowjob is is vastly different than experiencing one, and writing and reading give us the chance to work through everything that surrounds it from emotions to physical sensations and social repercussions.
Erotica isn’t just about the mechanics and it isn’t just about the morality. It lets us explore one of the largest and most complicated aspects of human experience with depth, compassion, and freedom. Dirty books don’t just tell us what a threesome is, they let us know what it feels like to let go and do something risky. Dirty books can let us know how to physically have anal sex, but can also advise us on what it might feel like emotionally, both during the act and also the next day. Through sex, we experience love, pain, loss, elation, jealousy, anger, and fear. And if we don’t write about it (and therefore read it), with honesty and in detail, we are simply left with our cultural messages of guilt and shame.
I write erotica because I’ve been told from a young age that sex is dangerous and dirty. I write it because each one of us has been told that our desires and our wants make us broken, and I want to tear that lie apart as brutally and fully as possible. It’s scary to let ourselves go to places we have been told are dark, but if we’re ever going to unpack the baggage, reverse the damage, and emerge healthy and whole on the other side, we have to do it. I write erotica to turn you on and to turn myself on. I write it to explore desires that confuse and upset me, and I write it to fight back against cultural institutions and messaging that tell me those things are wrong. I write erotica to feel, to experience, and to learn.
Most of all, I write erotica to say one thing: you are okay. You are normal. The things you want and the things you desire make you human. And that is a message that most of us could hear as many times a day as it takes for us to believe it.
So pick up a dirty book and remind yourself. Flip through the pages one-handed and know it is true. Close your eyes and let whatever comes to mind come as it will. Sexuality, with all of its complexities, is a part of what makes us human and alive.
And that is just as it should be.