Who was your first?

Who was the first to light your fire and trip your trigger -- so to speak? What did they say? What images did they paint in your head? How did they inspire you to think about sex, to crave more of it, to touch yourself? Who was the first?

Over at the Mischief blog, erotica writers answered that question: Who was your first erotic read?

(What did you think I was asking about...hmmm?)

To find out what my first erotic read was, click on over to the Mischief blog. There are plenty of great titles mentioned, so you might want to grab a pen and paper and make a wish list as you read!

"A Week in the Snow" -- The First Preview

It's good to be back...and it's so, so good to be naughty!

A Week in the Snow is my latest release. I'm signed with Total-e-Bound, and I am so excited to announce that A Week in the Snow will be released on June 27!

To start the celebration, let's start with a naughty kind of celebration. Here's your first sneak peek at the latest erotic fun:

She pictured him as well as she could, drawing on her memory of those photographs he had sent her over the Internet connection. She envisioned his broad chest, the smattering of black hairs, the almost-flat stomach and the strong, shadowed jaw.

She also envisioned those pictures of his long, hard cock, the photographs that filled the computer screen when she opened the file, the ones that made her mouth water and her heart pound. The thought of having that in her mouth or between her thighs had kept her dreams in high gear. Now he was within less than an hour’s drive, but there was no way she could get to him.

But she did have him in her head, didn’t she?

Rebecca grinned and rested her forehead against the cool wall of the shower. The emotion of the evening caught up with her again, but instead of the urge for tears she felt the urge to do something that proved she was alive—something vital, something powerful.

The water slid down her back, arrowed down over her ass and dripped from her pussy. She let her breasts brush that shower wall, too—and though the water was incredibly hot, the wall was still cool. The rush of sensation was heady, made more powerful by the emotion of the evening. She pressed harder, until her nipples were flat against the wall, hardening at the contact, her breasts tingling with the pressure.

She took a deep breath and arched her back, pushing her head under one of the streams of water. It cascaded over her face. She held her breath as long as she could. When she pressed her forehead against the wall again, she was breathing hard. She spread her legs a bit wider, and suddenly she could see the picture in her head of what she must look like: a young, sexy woman dripping wet, her legs open, her whole body braced, waiting for whatever a lover might do to her.

Rebecca stood under the water and let the feeling build. The fantasy took flight, the images of Gene’s cock in her head adding fuel to the fire. She thought about the way he sounded when he came, so strong and vulnerable all at once, and that alone was enough to send a surge of wetness between her thighs. She slid her hand down her flat stomach and rested it there, right below her belly button.

The water cascaded over her fingers as her thoughts took a different turn. She imagined someone was watching her, someone she didn’t know, and her thoughts of Gene slipped away to be replaced by this new, intriguing fantasy. She pictured a man behind her, watching her while she went about what she was doing right then, which was sliding that hand even farther down.

She brushed the inside of her thighs and pressed her breasts harder against the wall, pushing her ass out, bending her knees just a little to make more room for whatever fantasy man might be watching her. She imagined he could see everything, her pussy open and dripping, a blatant invitation to the cock that might want to slip into her tight, wet hole.

Rebecca pressed her hand against her pussy and rocked. She bit her lip to hold in the long, low moan. The adrenaline of the night was now heading in a decidedly more sensual direction, and she let all the emotion flood her, let it turn into passion as she rode her own hand under the dual showerheads. She slipped two fingers into her cunt and imagined the fantasy man behind her, watching as her fingers disappeared inside her, maybe moaning his own pleasure as he stroked his hard cock. She slid her fingers out, stretching her pussy for his gaze, inviting him to put
something of his own in there.

Her fingertips danced across her clit as she imagined that fantasy man moving up behind her, slowly, giving her time to move away if she was so inclined. She imagined his tongue on the back of her neck, tasting the water that ran from her skin. She could almost feel him placing his hands on her hips, holding the swell of them, and pressing the head of his hard dick against her opening.

He would slide in slowly at first, testing her acquiescence, but soon he would be overcome by how slick and hot she was. He would start slow and gradually move harder, faster, until he was almost ramming her, lifting her feet from the floor with his thrusts, making her struggle for balance as he began to ride her.

With a quiet groan, she pushed two fingers into her pussy. As she pulled them out, she stroked her clit, then pushed them back in. She kept it up until she was panting and trembling. The water slid down her body and she imagined it was the gaze of her mystery lover, watching everything she did, every move she made. She envisioned him waiting, holding back, and finally feeling those first contractions of her pussy around him, announcing that she had reached the pinnacle of pleasure she deserved.

She imagined the spurt of his cream, so much hotter than her own wetness, and that was the final edge of fantasy it took to make her come. She bit her lip at the last moment to keep from screaming out her pleasure as the orgasm swept over her, reducing her to whimpers and moans.

Her knees gave way and she slid to the floor of the shower. Her body thrummed with pleasure. It was enhanced by the adrenaline of the evening, strong enough to make her gasp for breath. She burst into laughter, her mouth muffled by her hand, trying to keep quiet, mindful of the man who was somewhere in the house with her.

She had never felt so alive.

In the coming weeks I will add more teasers for your pervy pleasure, as well as a list of upcoming appearances and maybe even a few contests. Stay tuned!

---

Mark Twain put it best...

Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

Though I can understand why most might have thought I fell off the face of the earth. It's been a long while -- almost two years since I posted here, and almost that long since I posted anywhere else. I scaled back my public appearances. Even my almost constant stream of stories all over the web seemed to dry up. So where did I go?

The answer to that is long and complicated, but I will try to make it short and sweet. In a nutshell, here goes:

I started a freelance business. I loved writing erotica, but it was time to stretch my wings. What started out as an experiment grew at a rate that was sometimes downright frightening, to be honest. Soon I had a decision on my hands: should I continue the freelance business, even if that meant I had to pull back a bit on writing erotica?

I had been writing erotica on a professional level for well over 15 years at that point, and that's a long time to do any job. So why not try something new? For that and many other reasons, I forged ahead with the business. It did well, and I was quite pleased with it. I even tried my hand at working as a serious journalist, and wonder of wonders, I loved it -- and I was good at it.

All the hard work paid off, and soon I had another choice: Keep building the freelance business, or take the great offer to work for a media company. I chose the company, and it was a good decision to make. Sometimes it's hard to believe I actually have a "day job" after being self-employed and independent for so long. However, I love the work, and it gives me the freedom to pursue my other writing as well.

And that, my friends, brings us back to erotic writing.

I never abandoned erotica! I was still writing about the naughty things that happen between the sheets, but I didn't have time to do much more than write. As any writer knows, the writing is where it begins, but certainly not where it ends. There is so much more to being a working writer: tweaking manuscripts, making appearances, networking, taking the time to promote yourself and your novels, signing books and of course, getting a head start on writing the next one before the ink is dry on the previous book.

Of course, other things happened. Some personal, some not. Life changed. I moved to a little town on the Georgia coast, which is much quieter than my former home of Nashville. But I have also been spending time in a not-so-small town on the outskirts of Philadelphia, so in many ways I have the best of both worlds: the quiet and very private home in Georgia and all the cultural experiences to be found in the Keystone State.

Is that all a bit cryptic? Perhaps. But I have found a renewed enjoyment of privacy these last few years, and it's going to be hard to come out of that shell again. However, I intend to do just that, and it all starts with my new novel!

A Week in the Snow will be released by Total-e-Bound on June 27. This summer, I will be quite the busy bee, promoting the book on websites and in person. Look for me in Philadelphia, New York, and perhaps many places in between. I'm going to post a list of upcoming appearances over the next few weeks, as well as plenty of information on the new book.

It gets better -- there's yet another one coming soon after that! Then another...and another. Looks like I'm back in the erotica business, friends!

And oh, my. It's good to be back.