Year in Review 2016

I mean, yeah, the less said about this year the better. That was even reflected on the writing front–I completed and placed fewer stories than I wanted to. However, I was also thrilled to be included in the following publications (and to have participated in my first Femslash February, with results posted on AO3)!

“For Myself” on the Bright Desire website

I enter my bedroom, where southern sunlight filters through the white and blue striped curtains like a haze. Ignoring the light switch, I leave the space dim and cool as a cave. Currents of air conditioning lick my skin as I undress. Whisper over goose bumps and sweat-slickness. Exposed, I feel like my naked body gleams in the twilight, but I’m not sure it really does.

I’m not like the covers of the books that flank my top shelf, books I often turn to when I’m in a state like this, books which I love like old friends-with-benefits—books advertised by people who are faceless, voluptuously thin, with innie belly buttons and skin the shade of honey-and-cream. Well, in the end I’d prefer to have a face. I’m not as hairless as they are, either, and though I feel smooth and even sleek under my hands, that’s only from familiarity. Familiarity is enough; at times like this it gets me going even more than those well-thumbed pages.

“A Last Touch of Grace” published by Forbidden Fiction

“Maybe I am wrong,” Iphigenia said. “And if so, I’m sorry to trouble you. I don’t think I’m wrong, but I truly don’t want to—to make things worse for you. If I’m opening a wound that’s healed, tell me. If it’s not still raw and bleeding, then I know I ought to let it be.” A deep breath from her, while everything else around him was still silence. “Say it hurts you less than it hurts me, and I’ll go, Mattie.”

Behind his eyelids, wetness stung. He laughed at it. “Nobody’s called me by that name in a long time.”

“Breakfast Time” in Bust Magazine’s 100th issue

“Oh, that’s good,” she growls from deep in her throat, clutching his thighs, his hips. Keeping track of her hands is hard this close to orgasm. But when she can control her touch, she can control him. She spreads his cheeks enough to tease his hole, satisfied to leave him open and unfulfilled. She doesn’t need to penetrate him to fuck him.

“Before the Fast” with Circlet Halloween Microfiction

She came closer, and he didn’t retreat. Her nostrils flared. Her breath fell on his cheek, then her lips, skimming over his skin in something not quite a kiss.

He swallowed hard, and then turned his face in an attempt to catch her mouth. She gasped, pulling back. He caught the flare in her dark eyes as she seemed to change her mind. Her gloved hand grasped the back of his neck, holding him in place as she closed her lips over his. He moaned as she added her tongue. Then her teeth.

“The Bitterness of Flesh” in Ever Dream of Me 

An arm went around her waist—Rob’s, lithe and warm, an eager embrace she couldn’t help melting into. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

Only then did he follow Jillian’s gaze to the dresses from the back of the closet. He went still against her. From the corner of her eye, she saw his cheeks blush to match the russet highlights of his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Her clothes were supposed to be cleared out.”

Her body still sang with silk and scent.

“I don’t mind,” Jillian said. 

“Phone Call, 3 AM” in Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Vol 2

You take on a posture sometimes that I can only think of as “ripe.” An erotic thought. I’m thinking it now, thinking you look ripe, even as I watch you shake your hair from your shoulders and sigh.