For the benefit of any unsuspecting reader, let me state now that this is NOT an article about how one might become a contented courtesan or smiling strumpet. Nope, not even a titillated trollop. Sorry about that. This assault on good taste and English letters is concerned with the fine art of creating attention grabbing hooks in the opening lines of your ne...
Amy knew Steve's face pretty well, in a "small town" kind of way. This wasn't unusual; having lived there all of her life she recognized most of the town's residents by sight and knew Steve from before High School, where he was a year ahead of her. It wasn't like they stopped and talked across shopping carts for hours at the grocery store, more that Steve wa...
I've been writing my erotic stories on and off for almost 10 years now, and I think my well of creativity may finally be running empty. I might post the occasional story here if the muse strikes me with a good enough story, but I think overall I might be done with actively writing erotica. Before I go, I thought I might write a kind of farewell letter to my...
This will make even less sense if you haven't read the first part. This story seems to be doing that weird thing of writing itself (or at least demanding that I rewrite what it doesn't like), and apparently it wants to progress by way of scenes, rather than chapters, so parts are less stand-alone than you might wish. ***** Holding me, his dick still semi-h...
He was invisible. He was used to that. His own children were grown up now, but when they were teenagers, and had friends around, they treated him as if he had accidentally slipped off into another dimension. He was just 'the dad'. Completely uninteresting. What would he know? Old, a bit overweight, thinning hair. Boring. He had been invited to dinner at Joh...
Just because I write erotic stories, and some may say not very good erotic stories, I have a stalker. Yeah, I know it is hard to believe but it is true. Now, alas, (I always wanted to use that word) my real life is an erotic horror story. Now, I must live my life in erotic horror and constant fear always looking over my shoulder. "What was that? Did you he...
How the hell did I get here? I've had this conversation with a fellow Lit author and we reached the same conclusion: everybody first finds this site for a reason. Duh, of course. It's like the old adage about playing cards: If you don't have a good partner, you better have a good hand. You find yourself looking for the stories tagged with a red H, maybe you...
Ben surfaced slowly from sleep, savoring every moment of the sluggish, dreamy warmth in his head as shifted position slightly. He knew he was losing the moment, his brain gradually shifting gears to wakefulness, but there was just something so wonderful about waking up without an alarm that he wanted to make it last. His eyes slowly opened... ...and took in...
As a child, I was crushed and broken, although I mended myself time and time again. I was and am a stubborn creature, built for some greater promise than that which my parents handed to me at birth. I am a wandering soul, questing for meaning in a world that gives me none. During this quest, I have met many beautiful and arrogant people. These high beings...
Little-Known Yet Somehow Obvious Tips For Writers I my experience as both an editor and a writer, I have come across some very common, but little-known, stylistic errors. One thing that most people don't seem to understand is how to transform everyday, hum-drum, blah writing into something enjoyable. Most often, the major problems with a story's readabi...