Pillow Talk Secrets Launches Today!

Posted on June 4, 2014September 9, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

Okay, I’ve been hinting, hinting, and more hinting that today was going to be fabulous—and now it’s finally happening! Today marks the launch date for Pillow Talk: Erotica Writers Talking Dirty!

See, Malin James, Tamsin Flowers, and I—your host for the day, Jade A. Waters—have been telling so many erotic secrets about writing and sex in general behind closed doors, we figured it was time to share it all with you. We formed Pillow Talk for just that—inviting you to listen in on our dirty dish, too. In today’s post we’d like to introduce ourselves as well as share what you can expect from Pillow Talk Secrets. In future sessions, we’ll be posting a short intro and links on our own blogs to direct you to the Pillow Talk website, where the full session will be posted—but in honor of our lift off, today you can read it all right here!

So without further ado, I’d like to welcome you to the first…

Pillow Talk Secrets!

Jade: Good morning, ladies! The day is finally here. Our official Pillow Talk Secrets launch!

Malin: We’ve been so busy at it, it’s kind of hard to believe!

Tamsin: I think it might have crept up on some of us! So what’s on the agenda, Jade?

J: Well, I figured today we should let our readers know what we’re all about, and then a little about each of us and how we met.

M: Perfect. Who wants to start? Maybe with a bit about what we’re doing?

J: Exactly. What is Pillow Talk? How should we describe ourselves?

T: Starting with the obvious, three writers—of erotica, naturally—similarly dirty minded!

J: Which basically means, dirty dirty dirty talk. Yes?

M: Yes. It’s also probably the biggest reason we became friends in the first place—erotica definitely brought us together.

J: I just smiled when you said that, Malin. It’s true! I still can’t remember who I friended first—it was so fabulous in both directions—but was it you, Tamsin?

Smiling woman jumping in the air with outstretched pom-poms

Jade A. Waters, Resident Cheerleader

T: I think so—we met on Twitter over a discussion of a pair of boots Alison Tyler was lusting after—and you very quickly became my chief cheerleader.

J: Oh, that’s right! I was squealing and dancing all over the place, as I usually do (also, Alison Tyler has some wickedly good taste in shoes!). But I think we got closer once I realized you wrote a zombie erotica book—because I thought that was wild—and then we started emailing….

M: I had no idea you guys started talking over Alison Tyler’s awesome taste in shoes! That’s fabulous…. And then of course, Tamsin’s zombies are…well, let’s just say I’m not a zombie kind of girl, but it’s the sexiest, most inventive set of zombies I’ve ever seen.

T: Ah, I use those zombies to hook all my friends!

J: I knew you were up to something! 🙂 Meanwhile, as Tamsin and I became cohorts…

M: Jade and I met at a reading for The Big Book of Orgasms! It was the first reading either of us had ever done—at least of erotica.

T: God, you two are so brave! I don’t know if I could stand up in front of a room full of people and read out my very filthy words!

J: I think it worked out because we both have theatre backgrounds. Also, we were in the Good Vibrations Vibrator Museum, so it was inspiring.

M: Ha! Yes, it was. Plus, the audience was friendly, so it was easy to jump in.

T: So tell me, what was the filthiest sentence you had to read out in front of all the strangers?

M: I read “Hard Knocks,” which is all about coming from being spanked, so the whole thing was pretty filthy. That said, “More blows slapping my sensitive, soaking cunt” might win.

T: *Sniggers.*

J: See, this is a hard question (pun intended) only because my filth gauge is a little questionable. In my story, “The Flogger,” a woman discovers her prim and proper boyfriend has found her dusty old flogger in the closet. Still, I think for me it was “cupped her slit with her whole hand.” I get a total visual every time I read it.

T: Like I thought—totally embarrassing! So pleased I don’t live near enough to have been roped in on that! But back to how we all met…

M: Tamsin—I know we met through Jade, but I’m trying to work out how we started emailing like maniacs…

T: I probably found you through stalking Jade’s twitter feed!

J: Ha! I remember telling you, Malin, that she was adorable and delightful, so that might have been part of it. Tamsin’s a hoot. (Hear that everyone? A damn hoot!)

T: Don’t scare the readers, Jade!

M: I adore that you just said “hoot.” And yes! I remember that. I had a question about something, so I emailed Tamsin, and she was lovely enough to help me out. Then we started chatting and off we went.

Picture of sexy woman writing in lingerie

This is so NOT how it works. Unless we’re dreaming…

J: I swear, it’s like destiny. *Clap of thunder.* *Parting clouds.* *Gentle rain ensues.*

T: Okay, moving swiftly on…

J: Yes, sorry. (Malin and I always get so damn gushy.) Let’s tell our readers a little more about Pillow Talk Secrets. What’s our goal?

M: I’d say to give readers a peek into a real friendship between real writers. Plus, sometimes people have interesting ideas about what erotica writers are like. I mean yes, we talk about sex.. kind of a lot. But we’re very well-rounded people, even discounting the filthy minds 😉

T: There are misconceptions about erotica writers, too—and we want to blast them out of the water. For example we don’t sit around writing in lacy lingerie sets. Well, I don’t. I can’t vouch for you two!

Proposed black and white image of Malin James

Malin James, tea and glasses in action!

M: I’m more of a tea and glasses kind of girl…and yoga pants. Yoga pants are good.

J: Ditto.

T: You wouldn’t catch me dead in yoga pants!

J: Silly. I’m sure you look smashing in yoga pants.

T: But exercise clothes are for exercise! I like to sit at my desk in a smart pin-stripe suit!

M: Hmm. I need more power lunches. Possibly with martinis….

T: See, there’s the difference between us—I’m uptight London and you’re cool California girls.

M: And yet, we work so well together!

T: Hats off to that!

J: Oh nelly. I think our readers are in for a treat with the three of us—a bunch of goofs, I tell you. So…let’s tell them more about what we’ll cover. For example, we’ll be doing this piece—Pillow Talk Secrets—about once every six weeks, right?

M: Exactly. And each Secrets session will be a little different. Sometimes we’ll talk about kissing (in fiction, of course), or strap-ons (in fiction, of course)…

J: *Snort.* We’ll also be laughing a lot, clearly. 😉 But strap-ons are such a great topic.

T: Actually, I just wrote a story about a strap on…

J: Yeah you did. It was smokin’.

M: That’s why strap-ons were on my mind. Ahem…

A sexy business woman representative of Tamsin Flowers

The power-lunching and classy Tamsin Flowers

J: We’ll also be talking about other erotica topics: limb arrangement, orgasms, couplings…

M: Pronouns! That’s a thing with threesomes…

J: We’ll have excerpts sometimes, too.

T: Maybe discuss books that we’re reading… And guests. What about the guests?

J: Yes! Definitely guests. Maybe even some competitions and prizes.

M: We’ll also talk about our works in progress or other exciting things that are happening to one or two or all of us.

J: For sure.

T: But as today’s our first time (we’re virgins?), the obvious topic is beginnings…. So how did you two get started as erotica writers?

J: Malin, you first.

M: Well, the short version is that I’ve been writing pretty seriously for about ten years, but I only started focusing on erotica about two years ago. Before that, I wrote the occasional bit of erotica, but only for myself. Then I stumbled over some open submission calls and started submitting to anthologies. Pieces started getting accepted, and suddenly, I was writing a lot more erotica.

T: Thank goodness!

M: After The Big Book of Orgasms reading, (where Jade and I met), I went to erotica full-time, and I’m happier as a writer than I’ve ever been.

J: Funny you mention “happier as a writer than [you’ve] ever been”—that’s exactly where I’m at, now. I started in spec fic (which I still love) and occasionally wrote erotica, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I ended up at a Fantasy/Sci-Fi writing conference having submitted a piece for a critique workshop. The readers flashed me raised eyebrows, and the workshop leader said, “Do you realize you’ve written a piece about a stripper werewolf?”

M: Did you realize you’d written about a stripper werewolf?

J: Honestly, it hadn’t dawned on me until he said it, and the group pointed out I had a flair for titillation…and suddenly, I’d found what really drew me! What about you, Tamsin?

T: I was dabbling in fiction, not too successfully, when I stumbled across a submission call for erotic short stories. So I thought to myself—yeah, I could do that. Despite the fact I hadn’t actually read any erotica at that point.

J: Whoa. Really?

T: Sure—I had read nothing! So I read one free short story, just to check how saucy I needed to be, and then I wrote one and sent it off. And…it got accepted—I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t because it was a really weird story, set in a dentist’s surgery…. Very strange. But I haven’t stopped since! And I’ve read a few more stories since then!

M: Your dentist story sounds great by the way. I love weird.

J: Me too. Spec fic background!

T: I wouldn’t say it was weird-good—just plain strange. A girl with dental phobia gets fingered by the nurse to make her forget she’s having a filling. It really made me feel squeamish about going to the dentist for quite a time!

M: Tamsin, you just cracked me up. I’d love to read it.

J: Me too!

T: Ha—one day I’ll send it to you both and you can see what I mean.

M: For what it’s worth, the first erotic story I ever sold had absolutely no sex in it. Lots of kissing (and it was hot kissing), but no sex. Go figure.

J: Well, I just have to say, I’m so glad we all made it to erotica—and of course, into each others’ orbs.

T: So am I—I’m having a blast with you two!

M: Likewise! Cheers to erotica and the people who read it!

J: Hear hear! Speaking of our readers, we should tell them about the newsletter.

T: Yes. Once a month we’ll be sending out a newsletter packed with all our latest updates—new releases, blog tours, details about forthcoming sessions and what we’ve been up to. Please sign up to make us feel popular.

J: Yes, please do! There’s a signup right here at http://pillowtalkwriters.com.

M: And you can also find us on Twitter and Facebook, as well. We’re everywhere. Everywhere! *Cue charmingly evil laughter.*

T: There’s simply no escaping us!

J: But we promise to make it a sweet experience.

M: Always…

T: You two sweet talkers!

J: Who, us? 😉 All right, I think that definitely gives our readers a good sense of what Pillow Talk is all about. Perhaps we should save more deliciousness for our newsletter?

T: You can sign up for the first edition now—and then it really gets going on 20th June…. Okay, I think it’s time to wind up proceedings.

M: I think so.

J: Agreed.

T: Hopefully we’ll see you at our next session—and please share your thoughts with us on Facebook and Twitter in the meantime.

M: Absolutely. We’d love to hear from you.

J: And thanks so much for joining us

XOXO,
Jade, Malin and Tamsin

Me Against the Music

Posted on April 30, 2014September 9, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

Chances are, you already saw Round Three of Alison Tyler’s Smut Marathon. (If you didn’t, get on over there right now and VOTE!) This one was quite interesting for me—Alison Tyler asked us to write a short piece inspired by whatever song we wanted. Sounds so easy, right?

Um…nope.

See, I love music—but apparently I’m very particular about when I listen to it. The problem is that I’m a singer and a dancer, so I am virtually incapable of listening to music without joining in or bopping around in one way or another. To be clear, I sing all the time in my house, and my neighbors can probably tell you how annoying this is since I love practicing for Karaoke Night in the shower—even when it’s not Karaoke Night. Hell, even if it’s five in the morning. Whatever. I’m singing and dancing in the shower, the living room, the kitchen…

This limits most of my music consumption to two occasions: while I’m driving in my car, and while I’m working out (no, I don’t sing there). Sometimes, I listen when I clean, but often I forget to turn it on and am done before I think of it.

So here Alison Tyler rolls around and asks us to use a song for inspiration. For some reason, I translated this into attempting to listen to music while writing. FAIL. Every time I played the song and broke to write, I kept singing the lyrics—and did you know, it’s quite hard to write what’s in your head when you’re singing along to what someone else wrote from inside her head? Yeah. Impossible. Or at least, it was for me.

I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but my impression is that many writers are inspired by music and use it to motivate them to write. I think that’s amazing, because it distracts the hell out of me. I can listen to it well in advance and maybe get a feeling or two, but the tune that works best when I’m writing is the sound of my fingers flying over the keyboard and the story blaring itself through my head.

Fine, fine. Other authors don’t use music. Phew. I’m not alone…

But wait.

It occurs to me this problem of mine extends beyond writing—I prefer not to have sex to music, either. No, really. It’s that bad. I won’t stop mid-encounter and say, “Wait! Stop! We must turn off the music!” or anything, but I prefer these things on their own. When it comes to sex, I love every little sound—the catch of a breath, the roll of a budding moan, the smack of skin on skin, and even the gentle brush of a caress. All of that is incredibly sexy to me. And when it comes to music, I’m so overjoyed to hear said clever artist syncing this lyric with that bridge or wickedly intriguing tone that I can’t fully acclimate. In truth, there is some poor bloke out there who can tell you about an 18-year-old me more interested in cooing over Fiona Apple’s Tidal album than our make out session (all right, this might have had more to do with my mediocre enthusiasm about the encounter, but still, I feel for the guy).

Now, I have a friend who is obsessed with music, and he informs me this problem only happens because my “partner isn’t doing it right,” otherwise I’d “connect with the music and the man.” Huh. An interesting theory. Ironically, this friend and I briefly dated years ago, and while we never had sex, he did effectively seduce me in a slow dance to some seriously sexy songs…so okay, maybe he’s right.

Or, maybe I’m just a weirdo. I don’t know. Music and me: it’s a strange relationship. I’m not saying these things never happen simultaneously, but on the whole, I guess I like to savor my activities separately.

Now I’m curious—does anyone else have a problem pairing music with [fill in your chosen activity]? I’d love to know. Please share…or just tell me I’m crazy.

Either way, please don’t forget to vote. I worked hard on this round! 😉

XX,
Jade

You Always Remember Your First

Posted on April 2, 2014January 7, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

Okay, no holds barred: I have a lot of firsts to share today.

For example, the first time I experienced anything akin to being turned on was watching Pepé Le Pew in Looney Tunes. No, really. I loved the French skunk. I loved the way he chased that pretty cat around and smothered her in affection. I particularly loved the way he held her and talked romantically into her ear, and how she swatted him away. For me, it was the chase—and while I imitated his lines because I liked the accent, I actually imagined some French person chasing me with affection and adoration one day. (Note: I have yet to date anyone French.)

My first kiss happened when I was seven. It was a dare. I’d had a crush on Michael for a whole year. He had this hair that looked like a Ken doll’s—it was short, blond, and wavy, but it somehow stayed close to his head (seven-year-olds don’t wear hairspray, right?). He always played football at lunch, so one day I stormed out and lectured him because he dropped the football. Yes. A seven-year-old, scolding another seven-year-old for dropping a football. Then, as he stared at me dumbfounded, I planted one on him. (Okay…maybe a little too much Pepé Le Pew viewing for me.)

My first “real” sexual experience happened under the murky sky of a light rain. I met a boy three years older than me and he walked me under a tree, where he cradled me in his lap and woke parts of me I didn’t realize existed. That experience was transformative—and lovely, to say the least.

The first time I had sex was with a different boy who also happened to be three years older. We wrote each other poetry and fantasized about living in other centuries together. Our relationship didn’t last long, but we did end up having one nostalgic fling almost four years later—when we drank wine, made love, and embraced while reading poetry to one another, all night long.

These are all some of my favorite firsts, but as open about these as I am, they’re not the firsts I meant to talk about.

You see, I wanted to talk about another first—the first erotica I ever read, because I will always, always remember it.

I read about sexual things at quite a young age—I’d devoured several V.C. Andrews and Christopher Pike novels by nine, for goodness sake—but in my early teens, I stumbled upon something on my mother’s bookcase: Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin.

Now, I confess, I already knew what sex was, but I’d never truly read it. And while the contents of those pages mesmerized and delighted me, and I worship the great Anaïs Nin to this day, it didn’t occur to me that reading those pages could be a source of sexual excitement. I read them analytically, enthralled to discover that one could weave sexual words and scenes so eloquently—and yet I didn’t completely understand that it might “turn me on.” Maybe it did and I just didn’t pick up on it. Who knows. But it did make me want to read more.

So somewhere around there, I signed up for a book club. I could order as many books as I wanted (as long as I could afford them), and I thought this was the coolest thing since peanut butter. Soon, I grew bold. Right under my parents’ noses, I ordered The Best American Erotica 1993 and concealed the book under my bed. Night after night, I read the stories within—and while Anaïs Nin had opened my eyes, these stories rocked me. They made me hot. They made me whisper things to my boyfriends about the naughty things I was reading, and how we should try this, and that, and did you know you could do that?

Now, this is a very old collection, but there are two stories that I’ve never, ever forgotten—even two decades later. One was “Rubenesque” by Magenta Michaels, and the other “Five Dimes” by Anita ‘Melissa’ Mashman. “Rubenesque” showed me body love, exhibitionism, and anonymous sex, while “Five Dimes” showed me lovers having fun and exploring. In fact, I may well have talked a boyfriend into playing “Five Dimes” with me. (You’ll have to read the story to understand what that means, but I assure you, it’s hot.)

So yes, technically, my first was Anaïs Nin. But the first I really remember, the first that got my pulse racing, my cheeks pink, and my body covered in goose bumps—that first happened with The Best American Erotica 1993.

I haven’t stopped reading erotica since.

Now, as for the other firsts—they’re delightful memories, too…which brings me to you.

Do you know what I’d love to hear? YOUR firsts. First kiss, first turn-on, first sex, first sexy read—you pick. Maybe if I’m really lucky, this space will serve as your very first confession! 😉

Can’t wait to hear…

XX,
Jade

P.S. The results of Alison Tyler’s Smut Marathon Round 2 are up—check them out here! (I survived! Hurray!)

Poetic Naughtiness — “Power”

Posted on March 19, 2014September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

In my younger years, I wrote a lot of poetry. It started in elementary school, when apparently I wrote material so dark the principal kept calling my parents in to discuss my suicidal tendencies (sorry, mom). This random fact has always surprised me, since I’m an eternal optimist—as in, “Screw the glass half full, I have a glass!”—but it is what it is. Little me wrote deep, dark, angry poems.

In high school, I switched gears and began writing deep, dark, dramatic poems. Huge improvement, right? Suddenly, I was not only writing about blackening flowers and body-bruising windstorms but bemoaning the loss of various heart breaker boyfriends. I wrote poems multiple times a day, and in fact, I still have my tattered-page journals filled with heart-wrenching verse and doodles I couldn’t make sense of if I tried. But eventually, the urge wore off; I realized I preferred fiction to poetry…

With the exception of erotic poetry. This was my little secret—all those deep, dark emotions I used to channel had turned into something sexier, sultrier, more explicit. Occasionally, I passed a piece on to a lucky boyfriend. Mostly, I kept it on my hard drive just for me.

That is, until today.

You may remember The Erotic Woman, the lovely site that featured my story “Marm” a couple weeks back? Well, they have a fondness for erotic poetry, too, and now, I’m delighted to debut my first public erotic poem! So…please hop on over and take a peek at “Power.” Oh, and an advisory: The Erotic Woman does include some NSFW images, so be prepared to read and enjoy the view. 😉

As for “Power”—I hope you enjoy it!

XX,
Jade

So, the Novel’s Done

Posted on January 29, 2014September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

I bet you’re all still a little dizzy from my post last week with Alison Tyler. Me too!

However, despite the party I’ve been throwing over here, I ended up buckling down and finishing my first erotica book in the last week, too. In truth, I typed “The End” over a week ago, but I didn’t want to call it done, like stick a fork in it D-U-N done, until I handled all those pesky bracketed notes I’d left for myself.

There were 147 of them, after all. And while some of them were amusing, perhaps for only me—[where the hell did her shoes go?] and [what is that one type of jacket with the things and the stuff?]—there were 147 of them. But, as of Sunday, they’re all handled! The book ended up being 87,000 words rather than 90,000, but I was clearly at the end of this darling couple’s journey…at least for this segment.

So what now? Well, I strongly believe in the simmer theory. I gave the file a great big kiss and closed it up with red tape. It is not to be opened for editing until March 1st. This works out surprisingly well, since there are a gazillion short story submission deadlines in March. They’re calling me and a couple other erotica author pals like a siren song, to the point where one of these lovely ladies dubbed them The Calls. (Yes, with capitals. It’s that serious.) Basically, I will be churning out short stories for a month. And when I say “churn,” it’s looking to be about seven stories. Or ten. Depends on how ambitious I’m feeling. I suspect switching from the pace of 87k to 1-5k will require a sharp downshift, but I’m ready. I love shorts!

Speaking of, after tackling all those bracketed notes Sunday, I reopened a short story I’d written over the summer. I have a lot to say about this piece that I’m going to save for a later date, but what I can say is that it was probably one of the most emotional things I’ve ever written. Editing it was almost as difficult as writing it—tears everywhere—and I’m still trying to figure out where it came from. I think sometimes, as writers, we get into the grind of creation, and every once in a while we surprise ourselves. That’s what this piece was for me. For now, I’m filing it away until I can figure out what to do with it. 🙂

So, in summary, yes, the novel is done—but there are plenty of things ahead to keep me occupied until it’s time to crack it open and edit. And that’s the nature of this thing, I suppose. Go, go, go….

Till next time.

XX,
Jade

Out, In, More

Posted on December 31, 2013September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

It’s New Year’s Eve, and for many of us, a good time to take stock and evaluate the year past. So I’m going to do that, but a little differently—because this year, quite frankly, has been a life-changer for me. Hands down, flat-out, smack me on the ass and plant a big juicy kiss on my lips kind of Hello? Is this really happening? year, and I’ve loved every damn minute of it.

So here’s the deal: about ten months ago, I was in the middle of a third-of-my-life crisis (because, let’s be real, 99 years is plenty).

I was 33 years old, and I’d been writing since I was 7. No, really, 7—I’d written this mini piece about a pumpkin for Halloween that got into the paper thanks to my parents encouraging precocious little me—and as much fun as I was having, and as much as I knew it’s what I wanted to do, something still hadn’t clicked. I dabbled in all sorts of things: the first (seriously bad) fictional biography “novel” I wrote at 11, the second (not as bad) YA novel I wrote at 13, and a whole lot of “wow that boyfriend (and that one, and that one, and that one) ran over my heart so I’m going to go super dark” poetry through most of high school. Next was an excursion into sci-fi and fantasy, because I thought a romantic fantasy was for me. So I wrote another book (a full-length one, this time). And on the side, I penned some “really dirty stuff” that I shared with a couple friends, but it never saw much of the light of day. It was me scribbling about how cool I thought sex was, honestly, with a couple of smartassed characters who did things the way I wanted to try and/or repeat them (shoot, sorry mom, why do you subscribe to my blog, again?). I read Anaïs Nin, see, and though I thought she was a genius, that could never happen in the writing I put out there. Never. My smut was for me and maybe some boyfriends about to get lucky. (Mom, just unsubscribe now. But don’t forget I stole Nin off your shelf. And I love you.)

Where was I going with this? Oh yes. Back to the onslaught of my third-of-a-life-crisis. So, I’d shelved all the smutty stuff to focus on spec fic, eventually ending up at a fantasy writing conference. I’d brought a little story about a tormented stripper werewolf who ends up in the middle of an orgy, and my critique partners kept giving me the funniest expressions. I’d written a dark speculative fiction piece, dammit, what was with all the funny looks? And then my group mentor smiled all giddy-like and said, “You wrote a stripper werewolf story. Stripper werewolf. With an orgy. You like to titillate with your writing. It’s fun!”

Huh. Not what I expected.

For a couple months, I toyed around with this concept. I wrote two intentionally erotic stories, adding to my sad collection of three (four? I can’t remember). Then I refocused on my real deal: spec fic. I tried to start another novel. It was about a succubus assassin and was supposed to be seriously dark, but by page 3, she was having sex. I didn’t realize it until I was on page 10 and she’d gotten down and dirty, and then I had a meltdown. I called my mentor and we had a frank talk.

He asked me why I didn’t just write erotica already. The same night, my best friend asked me the question again.

I had a lot of dumb reasons in my head for why that wouldn’t work for me. Some of them were nonsensical misunderstandings I’d somehow formed about myself, and others were possibly valid. I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter—in February of 2013, I made a deal with myself.

“I’ve liked writing it before. Okay. Why not? I’m going to try this erotica thing. I’m going to see how it feels.”

The next day, I was typing away at the keyboard like a fiend.

So in March, I made another deal.

“I’m going to send out some of these stories and see what happens.”

And so I did that, and dove back into writing. I’d already submitted fantasy/sci-fi/contemporary/mainstream/yes-even-that-novel-I-wrote-when-I-was-11 pieces out into the world, so I knew the deal: you send and you put your nose back to the grindstone. Write, write, write. That’s what it’s all about. And in reality, you don’t write for other people, you write because you love it. Because you know it’s the world to you, and you feel it as part of you, in your gut, even if no one else is paying attention.

That’s why the next month totally threw me. First, Rachel Kramer Bussel blew my mind by wanting a piece I’d submitted for a later call in an earlier book—The Big Book of Orgasms. I got the email late at night after coming home from a flight delayed by 12 hours and getting chumped by a prospective lover. (Seriously.) Then I ran around my house squealing and waking up my neighbors because, you know, that’s what you do when Rachel Kramer Bussel tells you she likes your story.

Next, there was the crazy rush I was getting from writing all this erotica. It was like my fingers were moving again. My brain was on fire. I wasn’t slamming my head on the keyboard trying to figure out why my fantasy/sci-fi/fictional-biography/Halloween-pumpkin story wasn’t clicking for me. June was right around the corner, and my little deals with myself had not only led to writing twenty-something short stories, but I was happy. I was alive. I’d found real love and true passion.

I was an erotica writer, goddammit, and I couldn’t be more excited.

So for me, 2013 is one blazing year of deliciously rich feeling, and it’s opened up my world. I’ve met some amazing new writer pals. I’ve read more of some of my favorite erotica artists—true damn literary artists—and then I’ve found a bunch more. I’ve started working with people who I admire so much I have to remind myself that when we meet, I’m not allowed to kiss their feet and/or drool. I mean, it’s only been ten months, but I feel like I’m living the dream—the most important dream there is, for anyone: finding what you want to do, what you love to do, and then…actually…doing…it.

I believe they call this self-actualizing.

I call it fucking rad.

Where will all of this lead? I have no idea. It’s about the journey, right? Mine involves a keyboard, a screen, a comfy desk chair, and an abundantly smutty imagination. We’re just going to kick it and enjoy the ride, because it feels good. It feels right.

So that’s my 2013 wrap-up, but it’s not really a closure at all—it’s more of a big open field of running free, for many years to come.

I’m going to go pour 2013 a drink now, because it was the year I found myself. And I hope that tonight, or tomorrow, or any day or year you face in the future, you have the opportunity to find as much joy as I have.

Until then, keep reading, keep writing, and love every sexy-ass minute of it.

XX,
Jade

Gratitude

Posted on November 26, 2013September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

It’s the week of Thanksgiving here in the States—a time of celebration, good food, and hopefully, a moment to reflect on all the things we’re grateful for in our lives. I’ve always loved hearing about the gatherings where each person shares something he or she is grateful for, so I hope each of you has an abundance of things to list this Thursday.

In the spirit of giving thanks, I’d like to take a minute to share my gratitude for a lot of different people I’ve had the pleasure of connecting with over the last few months. I have so much to be grateful for right now, and all of it is due to some extremely wonderful people.

First, I’m grateful that Rachel Kramer Bussel was willing to take a chance on “The Flogger” and add it to her beautiful collection, The Big Book of Orgasms: 69 Sexy Stories. I cannot be more thrilled that my first published piece is part of this anthology! I have more gratitude for a few other editors, such as Violet Blue for the honor of including me in Best Women’s Erotica 2014, and Pam van Hylckama Vlieg at Foreword for including me in Holiday Spice. And of course, there’s Alison Tyler, too, who keeps making me do happy dances. 🙂

I’d like to extend this gratitude to Cleis Press for publishing TBBOO, as well as for their ongoing efforts to provide quality erotica in some of the most lovely bound books I’ve seen in the genre. TBBOO and BWE 2014 are just two of many great books this house has released into the world, and I’m delighted to be part of their anthologies.

I’m also thankful for being able to connect with some fabulous writer pals. Some of you are pen pals, some of you are mentor friends, and all of you are inspiring me in one way or another. I’m incredibly glad we are connected!

I am grateful for family and friends too, many of whom have been encouraging me for years (especially you, S.M., who reminded me whenever I flitted off to something else over the years that writing was my true love and I should get back to it). A special thanks to M.N. and K.S. for nudging me (okay, tenderly shoving me when I kept dipping my toes) into erotica, since you both recognized it was what I really loved to write.

I’m also grateful for all the people who are starting to find my work, and who are so kindly sharing their thoughts on it with me. I am truly honored to get to share my writing publicly now, and hope that people continue to enjoy reading it (or at least read it!). 🙂

I wouldn’t be so passionate about erotica if I hadn’t read stories by some tremendous authors, so I’m grateful for finding the work of Shanna Germain, Alison Tyler, Isabelle Gray, Rachel Kramer Bussel, and Anaïs Nin, among others, some of whom you can find on my Blogroll. There are so many talented writers out there inspiring me right now, and I hope to continue learning a little something from all of them as I continue to write.

I could probably keep going on forever about how grateful I am, but I won’t. I do, however, hope that you have something that makes you feel as warm and fuzzy as all these special people have made me.

Finally, I wanted to share a completely unrelated little ditty with you—Alison Tyler, otherwise known as the Trollop with a Laptop, has been collecting pictures of bookshelf porn. She’s a complete voyeur and has a fetish for checking out everyone’s bookshelves, so she’s been running an ongoing series if you’d like to check it out (and you should). You can see my book preferences right here, and if you click on through her site, you’ll be able to see the sexy book arrangements of some other erotica authors and erotic-related folk, such as A.M. Hartnett, Emerald, Graydancer, and Charlie Powell. There are more to come, so be sure to take a peek!

In the meantime, I hope everyone has a wonderful and happy Thanksgiving. Be sure to curl up with your favorite spicy read, something I’m eternally grateful to get to do!

XX,
Jade

A Brief Recap of The Big Book of Orgasms Reading at Good Vibrations!

Posted on November 7, 2013September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

I’m a squealer.

Let me just say that right now, upfront, so it’s clear for all eternity and in writing here on my site. I’m a big fangirl, and I get real damn excited when I’m happy.

That said—last night was fucking amazing. (I’d say pardon my french, but hello, you’re on an erotica author’s site.) I am honored and so truly blessed to have been in the presence of the talented people I got to read with last night.

Here’s the rundown:

The reading was hosted by the Polk Street Good Vibrations in their Vibrator Museum. I mean, how much more awesome of a venue could there be for an erotica reading?

Rachel Kramer Bussel kicked us off with her reading of the fabulous “I’m On Fire.” She, by the way, is the reason I’m published, so I had to really keep it together to not smother her in a gigantic hug. She’s pretty amazing, people. And she liked my shoes!

Lily K. Cho read “Chains of Love,” and having buddied up with her before the reading (she’s a newbie, too), I felt like a proud mama watching her go. Loved that story, girl!

Malin James read “Hard Knocks,” which is one of my most favorite stories in the whole book. Her reading was delightful, and she’s also a doll. And did I mention “Hard Knocks” is fantastic?

Sinclair Sexsmith didn’t read a story from TBBOO, instead reading a new piece. I believe it was called “Five Blowjobs.” I think. I’m still so flipping giddy I can’t remember. Regardless…It.Was.Fucking.Great!

Donna George Storey read “Book Lover.” Since I love the smell of paper, and I love her, I nearly lost it. She is a beautiful reader, as well, so if it was possible for someone to actually sound as smooth as chocolate looks coming out of a fondue fountain, then that’s how it went down. Really.

B.D. Swain was a newbie like me, but you wouldn’t know it listening to her read. I’m a huge fan. Huge. “The Beginning”—like pretty much everything I’ve seen by B.D. so far—is exquisite.

Virgie Tovar blew my mind with “Count the Strokes.” The story itself is so ridiculously delicious, and she’s quite the reader. I then had to follow her…go figure.

Xan West had to be one of the best readers of the night with “Baxter’s Boy.” The story is great, and Xan was so animated and alive reading it that it was a pleasure to watch!

And of course, there was little ole me. I read “The Flogger.” I was nervous as all hell, but I think I pulled through okay. My long-ago-theatre-girl self is ready for a round two, though, so I can attempt a read as impressive as the seasoned vets who schooled me. You people are astounding!

Want to see us all together? Click right here.

A giant thank you to Good Vibrations for hosting, Cleis Press for organizing (and for publishing me!), and to Rachel Kramer Bussel for flying out AND for choosing “The Flogger” to be in the collection. Without her, I would never have gotten the chance to fill you all in on such a tremendous experience. 🙂

Okay. Phew. I made it through this post.

Now, I must sign off to dance around my living room squealing again.

XX,
Jade

That One Costume…

Posted on October 28, 2013September 14, 2014 by Jade A. Waters

It’s Halloween week—time for everyone to get excited about sugar, parties, and costumes! I’ve always enjoyed Halloween, half because I love the candy and the other half because I enjoy a good costume. In a former life I loved to make my own; sometimes they were silly, sometimes they were cute, and other times, they were incredibly over the top. While I do enjoy having a closet full of costumes, I’m not so much into the dressing up part these days. The good news is that I still enjoy checking out the fantastic costumes other people wear, especially when they’re homemade or unusual.

Speaking of unusual—how about a Santa costume at Halloween?

[Screeching record sound here.]

Um, wait. What, Jade?

Well, as you may know, Foreword Literary is set to release Holiday Spice early next month. My story, “Office Santa,” is included in the anthology—and it happens to be inspired by a photo I once saw of a woman dressed up as Mrs. Claus for Halloween! The costume was a sassy little number…and that’s how “Office Santa” ended up narrated by a gal named Kristi, an adored member of her office team who really loves a man in a Santa suit.

So, in the spirit of Halloween, sexy costumes, and all things Christmas cheer, here’s a sneak peek at “Office Santa”:

Me and Office Santa—we go way back.

See, after seven years of organizing our annual holiday party, I’ve learned I have a real affinity for a gentleman in a Santa costume—which is saying a lot, since I love a man in a suit and tie, and the male partners around here look so delicious in their business wear it’s a miracle we don’t have a major sexual harassment problem. But Christ, put one of them in a fuzzy red suit with a squishy belly, a big black belt, matching boots, and that goddamn aphrodisiac of a hat, and I lose all semblance of self-control.

Part of the appeal is the man who dons the suit, of course. Last year, for example, it was David. He’s one of the busiest partners, so watching him slow down to have a glass of wine with the rest of us—appreciating the season and wearing that fantastic red costume—actually made him approachable. I mean, he was always that way with me, but no one ever saw that. Ours was an affair composed of exactly three entanglements: the first on the break room table after the rest of the company had gone home, the second when I picked him up from the airport after a conference since the driver I’d arranged had neglected to show, and the third the time I took him home from the holiday party. He’d spent the night tumbling around my apartment—he was a little awkward with the suit dangling around his thighs because I wouldn’t let him take it off. In return, I kept the sexy Mrs. Claus dress on and let him rip a hole in the crotch of my fishnets so he could get his hands on me. There’s something to be said for a man wearing a Santa hat while under your skirt, shoving his tongue way up inside until you come to visions of sugarplums and all that, so it was a win-win for us both…

***

Wonder who will wear the suit this year? 😉 I hope you enjoyed the excerpt, and stay tuned for news on the official release date and buy links!

In the meantime—and just because it’s impossible to stop admiring this cover model—here’s another look at the cover of Holiday Spice: