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Music for making love to ghosts

A Walt Whitman poem says, “And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.”

I’ve always misheard that as “To die is luckier than any of us know, and stranger.

Because how could it not be?

I don’t pretend to have any insight into what an actual afterlife might be like, but when I’m writing ghosts, I try to keep its potential strangeness in mind. Not in a bad way, necessarily; it could be a lucky and fortunate strangeness. But I’m pretty sure sex with ghosts would be something very different from sex with human beings. A matter of odd geometries and invisible contours, the texture and taste of a non-biological intimacy. It would have to be at least a little scary, and probably wistful too.

A song that perfectly captures this mixture of whimsy and weirdness–incidentally, the perfect soundtrack to Bodies of Ghosts, even though it wasn’t released until after I had completed and submitted the story to Mofo–is Seeming’s “Phantom Limb”:

 

Incidentally, Seeming also has a song called “Stranger” that makes the process of becoming different sound pretty lucky (though it’s much more about life than death). And at times weirdly, wonderfully erotic.

And if you’re looking for inspiration for Mofo’s current call, Apocalypse (how would you fuck if the world was ending?), you might want to check out “Goodnight London.”

 

Read Bodies of Ghosts free:

Mofo Website

Amazon

iBooks

Kobo

Nook

 

Get Haunted:

Mofo Website

Amazon

iBooks

Kobo

 

Go Get “Getting It”!

You can get SinCyr’s first anthology of sex-positive, consensual, and kinky female dominant erotica, Getting It , on your ereader in the next hot minute if you click the link ;D

To whet your appetite, you can read more about the stories in the anthologies on SinCyr Publishing’s blog. I’ve also shared longer excerpts from my stories, “Silver Bracelets” and “Fantasies,” on this site. Enjoy!

 

 

“Fantasies”

“Fantasies”

SinCyr’s first anthology of sex-positive, consensual, and kinky erotica, Getting It, comes out September 15. Along with all those good things, it’s also the BEST thing: 13 stories of complete femdom.

Frankly, my contributor’s copy can’t come fast enough.

In the days leading up to the release, I’m sharing excerpts from both my stories in Getting It. 

“Fantasies” is a story about negotiation, exploration, and confession (or maybe when we sadists do it it’s “bragging”). A content warning may be in order here: it is about rape fantasies. And yet another caveat is that it’s fairly abstract, or maybe the word is cerebral–fantasies taking place in people’s minds, after all–so if you’re looking for explicit dub-con or non-con (I firmly believe both can have a place in a vibrant fantasy life and in fiction, accompanied by honest content descriptions) this might not scratch that itch. Speaking of scratching and itches, there is a bit of teasing involved, too. …A lot of teasing, in different ways. Ultimately, it’s a story about trust, power, denial, and also giving in.

(In combination with “Deliver Us,” it also falls into my new specialty, which is apparently “submissive bisexual guys getting tied up by their girlfriends and having personal realizations in the process.”)

 

Fantasies

“You’re scaring me,” he said as her fingers scraped his collarbone, then started to circle his throat.

She didn’t stop; between them, that wasn’t a complaint. “I don’t often ask what you’re thinking, do I? While we’re doing this.”

“Not sure what I’d tell you.” He was starting to breathe faster, each sharp inhalation expanding against her hand. She didn’t constrict the passage of air, only felt it. Monitoring, of course, could also be a form of control.

Maybe that was why her question about his fantasies made him so nervous. He wasn’t sure he wanted all the contents of his head monitored, too.

But mostly, figuring out what he was thinking seemed like a lot of work.

She nudged, saying, “What has you so scared?”

“You could…”

Her eyes gleamed. Their deep brown took on a glow like red embers as she waited for him to answer.

“You could…do anything to me.” He wiggled one hand in its cuff of rope, the gesture as eloquent as he could be.

“I could. I have you at a considerable disadvantage.”

She shifted position, straddling one of his spread legs. Her knee brushed the front of his briefs.

“Silver Bracelets”

“Silver Bracelets”

SinCyr’s first anthology of sex-positive, consensual, and kinky erotica, Getting It, comes out September 15. Along with all those good things, it’s also the BEST thing: 13 stories of complete femdom.

Frankly, my contributor’s copy can’t come fast enough.

In the days leading up to the release, I’m sharing excerpts from both my stories in Getting It. 

“Silver Bracelets” is a cozy and domestic fantasy, because women can take erotic control in the most everyday scenarios. Although it’s not every day that you get handcuffs as a present. The heroine’s synesthesia heightens the sensuality of her welcome home to her boyfriend in this story about shiny new toys and loving something so much you can eat it up.

 

 

Silver Bracelets

She comes up to him and grabs his arms as soon as he has his jacket off. It crumples to the floor, and she kicks the bundled fabric away. A startle travels through him under her fingers. It’s like she can feel his pulse vibrating in his wrists—maybe she does, maybe that is what she senses moving through his body when she brushes against it. By stretching her fingers she can hold both his wrists in one hand.

He’s not frail, exactly, but delicate. Not fragile but vulnerable. That was part of what attracted her to him, looking past their union of opposites. He doesn’t have strength so much as vigorous energy, which turns his tall and skinny frame into a snarl of movement, a blur of excitement, a tempest that can meet hers in an embrace even more enthusiastic than it is awkward.

But in contrast to him, now she feels steady, slow, deliberate. She unbuttons his shirt cuffs, baring tender skin. He keeps his wrists crossed even when she lets go. Light hairs stand on end as her fingertips brush, turning his limbs when necessary to roll up his sleeves. She lets the cuffs dangle from her thumb, a balancing act that might turn to juggling at any moment. It’s a relief that he can’t see that. The spell being wound around him isn’t disturbed by her unfamiliarity with their new toy.

It doesn’t distract her much, either. Especially when she slips them on him.

They look so pretty as they lock around his wrists—like bracelets, bright and decorative. They have a little give, enough to slide half an inch or so along his forearms when he draws them apart as if checking his new limits. The silvered surface sends a dazzle of light over his skin and the back of his shirt, into her eyes.

“Oh my God,” she whispers. “This is beautiful.”

He turns his head but not the rest of himself, tossing a floppy lock of hair from over his ear to better hear her. She wonders if he can’t quite believe her words.

“Beautiful,” she repeats, tracing a blue vein to the first metal loop, then over the short chain connecting it to the second one. She keeps her hands trailing over his body as she walks around him. He’s warm under the close-fitting dress shirt; a fiery brightness beats off him into her palm and fingertips.

She follows his shoulder to his neck, takes him by the nape and pulls him down toward her. Almost thrown off balance, he spreads his feet to find it again. The motion brings his lips the last bit closer, and she takes them with hers. The kiss is pillowy, rich and gentle. Her fingers curve behind his ear, stroking his soft hair.

 

The Complete Lady Crayl: A Femdom Book Giveaway

Just one week from today (Sept 15, 2017), I have two stories coming out in SinCyr Publishing’s first anthology, Getting It. It’s 13 stories of dominant women of all kinds and their submissives.

Some of the range in this anthology is clear just from the pieces I have in it–one is a sweet story about a young woman and her boyfriend enjoying their first pair of handcuffs. The other is about a more experienced couple exploring their rape fantasies (SinCyr’s mission statement, though, is ““Shifting rape culture one sexy story at a time” so rest assured that it’s all consensual–I find the trust exercise involved especially sexy, to be honest.)

You can read a little more about my stories, “Silver Bracelets” and “Fantasies,” HERE.

But speaking of femdom–and when, honestly, am I ever not?–my short story collection Lady Crayl is up for giveaway on Goodreads from today through October 8.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Lady Crayl by T.C. Mill

Lady Crayl

by T.C. Mill

Giveaway ends October 08, 2017.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

Lady Crayl is a historical fantasy about a Dominant lady, Elise Crayl, and her loving knight, Adam Tynae. The four stories show glimpses of their lives as they’re separated and find their way together.

When Elise Caryl and her forces successfully take command of an enemy castle, she recognizes the defending commander: Adam Tynae, the knight she loved and lost long ago. Determined that nothing will come between them anymore, she seeks to prove it to the man she owns heart, body and soul-using whatever tools come to hand, from riding crops to knives to lengths of ribbon. Happily, Elise and Adam have a few more marks to make, and a few more bonds to writhe in. After Adam surrenders, Lady Crayl will reward him with a far more pleasant manner of submission.

Content: These four short stories about a Dominant lady and her loving knight make up 28,000 words of tender romance and chivalry along with scorching erotic content, including knives, sensation play, and bondage. Adult readers only.

Sounds like something you’d like? Check out the Lady Crayl Giveaway here and enter before October 8!

“Annunciation”

Mofo publishing’s latest anthology of literary erotica, Sacrilege, comes out August 17th. This week I’m sharing excerpts from both my stories in it.

“Annunciation” is a Marian devotion, a confession, a denunciation, and a love story about growing up queer in the Catholic Church.

Annunciation

Gabriel

The Nativity is the third Joyful Mystery.

My first crush was on the archangel Gabriel, who I thought was a woman.

I stared at the illustrations in my religion textbook, studying every nuance of the figure, taller than the kneeling Mary (or even when kneeling to Mary) but slender. Details of that long body were masked by a white gown that flowed to bare feet, draped the wrists of gesturing hands. The beardless, fine-featured face was framed by a cascade of golden hair. These details recurred in image after image. Already half-daydreaming, I skimmed text that spoke of “the angel,” and I knew girls named Gabrielle.

So to me, the Annunciation was always a matter of two women together in a bedroom.

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“Deliver Us”

Mofo publishing’s latest anthology of literary erotica, Sacrilege, comes out August 17th. This week I’m sharing excerpts from both my stories in it.

“Deliver Us” is a lighthearted and angry look at the kind of sex that will get you sent to hell. Namely, exorcism roleplay, with bondage, warming oils, and getting almost too deeply into character–

Deliver Us

Ryan might have made a mistake in telling her that his first awakening to bondage had come through some C-movie about an exorcism. Watching that lissome teenager writhe, strapped down on the table—though just a kid himself, he’d known something was going on, something even beyond the desperate, weirdly poignant straining for salvation. Years later, he found out exactly what. And years after that, he confessed.

And now he was about to lose his immortal soul over it.

But God, Ann looked good in a Roman collar.

“I thought about being a nun,” she said, running her fingers over it. “But in the end it didn’t work out.”

“No kidding.” He grinned. “When it comes to nuns, I always think about . . . either sweet little old lady campaigners of social justice or else rulers across the knuckles.”

“Seriously. When I was younger, I thought I might have a vocation.”

“You’ve never mentioned that before.”

She shrugged, and he remembered that she didn’t talk much about her Catholicism in general. Or her ex-Catholicism. Which seemed more likely, given her continued playing around with the collar. She brushed away the ends of her brown curls hanging over it.

“Anyway,” she said, “I just thought of it when I put this on. Since they don’t let women become priests. A Sister would be as close as I could get.”

“I think you’ll make a good priest,” he told her.

“Thanks.” The moment of softness passed from her eyes, and she leaned over him. Loomed, really. When he stood, they were the same height, but Ryan always felt as if he shrank five feet when he was tied up. And the improvised vestments seemed to do something for her—she grew in them.

She said, “But after all, there’s lots of things they don’t let good Catholic girls do. Extramarital sex . . . sex not for the purposes of procreation . . . most of everything we’ve ever done.”

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Embodied Hauntings–“The Bitterness of Flesh”

Continuing on my themes from the last week’s posts–hauntings, and also recent releases that didn’t get proper blog posts because my website was down at the time they came out.

“Would you like to see Cleo?”

This time the blush flamed to the surface of her skin, and the chill dove deeper, towards her heart. “I… Can I?”

Robert Fitzwilliam held out his hand. “There’s a statue of her down the hall.”

A statue. Of course. Had she been expecting a ghost? She pressed her palm to his again, felt long fingers close around it, followed the draw of his arm. The thick carpet drank in their footsteps.

“The Bitterness of Flesh” came out in Ever Dream of Mean anthology from Fantasia Divinity Magazine. It was inspired by two things: the Year’s Best Food Writing anthologies from Holly Hughes, and Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca. Of course, I was reading those at the same time, which is one of the best ways to cross wires for creative sparks.

Plot-wise, the story is not about a chef: I’m more interested in eating scrumptious delicacies than preparing them, so the Food Writing inspired me to notice and incorporate sensual details–and also an heirloom apple orchard. Honestly, I’m surprised there isn’t more writing out there combining culinary and erotic appetites, although Gael Green’s Insatiable and Ashley Warlick’s The Arrangement are both on my bookshelves (I hadn’t realized M.F.K. Fisher had a love triangle under her belt along with all those European meals!).

The core of the story is about a second wife, and also, of course, about the first one. I adore Gothic novels, but the atmosphere of “Bitterness” is a little lighter than most Gothics–more bittersweet than venomous. Its partial inspiration, Rebecca, is a book about jealousy and fear, love and obsession. And when the heroine gets that obsessed with Rebecca (aided not least by the tour Mrs. Danvers gives of the shrine made from Rebecca’s bedroom), it becomes almost–with more or less “almost” about it–sexual.

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Best Women’s Erotica of the Year Author Interviews

I just realized how much I have to catch up on, posting-wise, from those long and dreary months I spent without a website. And there’s a whole sob story about what else was going on that getting the new website up wasn’t a priority for me, but who needs to hear that? Sob stories aren’t that sexy.

Well, they can be.

You're trembling, and aside from those delicious, involuntary shudders, you don't move. from T.C. Mill,

Eroticism and grief, loss, and tragedy are kind of a thing for me. Hauntings–supernatural or psychological–appear again and again. I’m struck by the kind of intimacy you can or can’t have with the past, what forever eludes your touch. There’s also the intensity, the whole-body experience of each emotion, idea, and sensation. It’s why Shakespeare’s tragedies are so beautiful. It’s also why grieving people may suddenly find themselves powerful. The grief story that resonates most strongly with me is: “I just went and stood there, sort of trying out my anger against theirs, I guess. And mine won.”

Or as the narrator of “Phone Call, 3 a.m.” puts it:

Grief and fear are rare aphrodisiacs. Deep mourning isn’t, and depression certainly isn’t. Anxiety makes you clammy and numb inside or makes you let loose recklessly. In my experience merely anxious sex has always felt somehow cheap. But grief unlocks something. Maybe it strikes so deep that it gives us permission to feel. It excuses us. Or makes us so desperate that we’ll have anything in place of the loss.

Anyway, what I was getting to when I started this post is that I forgot to share here when my author interview went up on Best Women’s Erotica of the Year’s Tumblr page. On the other hand, waiting until now to post about it means I can share the complete set of author interviews from all 21 contributors; you’ll find them under the tag for Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 2. They’re all fascinating, and I think you’ll love the chance to hear about the inspirations for these stories, read each author’s favorite lines, and find out what’s coming next!

If you’re interested in being part of the series yourself, the call for Volume 4 is up, seeking themes of “outsiders and risk.”

 

New Release–Wanderlust: a Literary Erotica Anthology

“Turn-ons include well-placed commas, devastating allusions, ten-dollar words, social commentary, moral ambiguity, alliteration.” As soon as I read the description on the website of MoFo Pubs, I knew this was somewhere I wanted to submit (fiction, that is).

The best turn-ons, the kind that weave the strongest spell, are those that engage your brain as well as your body, that serve up sensuality with flair. Such is what I try to deliver. I don’t see “literary erotica” as an oxymoron. For all the beliefs, emotions, sensations, anxieties, and rites of passage surrounding sex, it’s a strong contender for the most literary of topics. It certainly beats out taxes, though not necessarily death…

…and it may tie with travel. Discovering new places, or leaving the old ones behind; a hunger for different sights or sounds or tastes; short transactions or deeper exchanges with strangers you might never see again. And then there’s the logistics: carrying your baggage or finding somewhere to put it or forgetting it entirely, hoping your transportation doesn’t come to a halting crash, considering the sense of relief you might feel it it does–there’s a lot going on and going into your average case of Wanderlust.

I’m very excited to be part of this anthology for my first publication of 2017.

Read an excerpt from my story, “Soft, Rough,” under the cut

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