THE Process

Posted on February 16, 2016December 29, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

Okay, here’s the deal: I kept fooling myself into believing I have a systemized process, and it’s become abundantly clear I’m full of shit.

As some of you may have noticed, I’ve been fairly quiet on both this site and my poetry site. For the most part, I’ve had my head down working on the Lessons in Control series. I’m getting more and more excited to talk about it as we get closer to launch in December, but for now, I’m tied up (heh) in edits for The Assignment (book one), the drafting of The Discipline (book two)—and later down the line, the drafting of The Reward (book three).

The process has been thrilling, shocking, and terrifying, all at the same time. My editor, Rhonda Stapleton, has been a dream through the work we’re doing on book one—but alongside that, I’ve had a hell of a journey on book two. Whatever “process” I swore I had for writing books has been, well, doctored.

B/W still vintage image of typewriter

Dmitriy Cherevko ©123RF.com

Let me give you a little background. The first real book I wrote (because I’m excluding the fictional biography I wrote at 11 as well the YA horror I wrote at 13) was a romantic fantasy that took me 17 years to complete, and at the end of it, I learned one very important thing: I’m neither a fantasy writer OR a strictly spec fic writer. I love sexual content, and I love dripping that all over the pages of whatever the hell I’m writing. So for my next book, I opted to write a comedic memoir about the year and a half I semi-intentionally stopped having sex. (True story!) Turned out, for a book about not having sex, it actually had a lot of sexual content—but it was also about healing from heartbreak, finding oneself, and a bit of ridiculousness that happened in that period, among other things. Honestly, I haven’t talked a ton about this thing since it’s shelved in lieu of what I currently love writing (that would be erotica in its various forms), but, the point is that it took me about three years to write, the end confirming that (1) I needed to write more because it was my life blood and (2) I was capable of finishing things faster than I thought.

Next came a bunch of short stories. I had a spec fic writing mentor at the time who suggested what I needed was to start and stop over and over again, so I could feel more confident in the process before I took on another book. Whoa nelly, did that turn out to be a boon: I wrote something like two dozen short stories in a few months. Plus, I wrote them fast. 4-6k in a couple hours? No problem! I had become a binge writer who also learned the skill of drafting without backtracking, because one can always chop and revise later. I was pretty sure that nifty trick would carry with me for life.

Flash forward to the recent past, and there came The Assignment. I’d been plotting and stewing about how I might be able to write an erotica series for a couple months, and, meanwhile, had an extremely transformative relationship that sparked all sorts of ideas in my head. Then…we broke up. Okay, in actuality, I had to pry myself away because the entire thing was about to ruin me, but a well-timed vacation and a keen interest in the “do not disturb” function on my phone created utter magic. Even through my devastation, the plot of my story became clear and I proceeded to channel all that breakup energy into writing The Assignment. That book—which I am seriously excited for you to read when it comes out in December—took me a whopping week and a half to outline, and right around one month to draft.

For realsies.

And suddenly—I knew my process: outline, speed draft without editing, let it breathe, go in and proceed to smoothe. Check! Oh yeah. It was that simple, and it would be, forever. Right? So while the final version was off wandering the world for a home, I proceeded to start another book—but the entire time, I couldn’t figure out what had happened to my process because I seemed to be going in circles…for almost eight months.

I’d just upped my speed and written a book in a month. How on earth did this thing take so long?

Then came some real life chaos that fucked with me. It took a while for me to get a clue on how to handle it, but when I did, I opted for a book break. I spent a couple months writing shorts and reworking my confidence, so that when The Assignment found a home at Carina Press and they wanted the entire series, I was both giddy and ready to write book two. Except, not so much. I was still contending with the residual chaos that culminated in the attack of the chronic migraines while also struggling to realize this was in no uncertain terms affecting my process. I drafted about 30k. I got migraine sick. I drafted 10k. I was still migraine sick. I tore up 20k. Edits for book one came. I finished them and then drafted 20k. But again, I was really sick and had to straight up stop. When I was migraine-free and ready to go again, I not only cut out about 15k, but completely replotted the rest of the book.

Ha. Take that, process!

Oh, and my binge writing tendency in that entire time period? M.I.A. 1-2k became a good day! But I plodded along, accepting that I would produce, delete, rewrite, break, etc., until somewhere around December when—while setting my 2016 goals—I took a step back and thought, hmm, maybe I should just write the damn book however it comes out, and stop being an asshole to myself because the process happens to have changed from what it was before.

Amazing concept, right?

I have to say—since then, things have continued to be pretty good over here. I turned in another round of edits on book one, and when I sat down to begin the final chunk of the book two draft this last weekend, I didn’t even bat an eyelash at the fact that the first thing I did was replot the last 20k again.

Go figure.

So, ladies and gentlemen, it’s safe it say: I have discovered the real process! It’s good, and I’m going to share it with you. You should grab a pen. Go ahead, I will wait. *Taps foot.* I know you want the Secret to the Writing Universe I discovered over the last few months, and now, I’m going to give it to you!

Okay, you ready?

Here it is.

The official process is…

Whatever fucking works.

Yep. That’s it. (Did you write that down?) 🙂

I have no idea if my process is “no process” because of life things, or just because that’s the truth of the matter, but I’m pleased to have established this riveting…process. Also, I’m curious about everyone else—what’s your process? I’d love to hear in the comments.

For now, though, time for me to get back to work.

It’s a process. 😉

XX,
Jade

Elust #79: The Introduction, Words, and So Much More!

Posted on February 15, 2016February 15, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

Photo courtesy of Marie Opens Up

Welcome to Elust #79 –

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #80? Start with the rules, come back March 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Joy of Sucking Cock

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Midweek Fantasizing – The Portrait

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

Marionette
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

A kiss is just a kiss
Turning Corners
Another Day, Another Planned Parenthood Visit
My first vanilla date
Want, Need the Power of your Masculinity!
I don’t know how to date.

Erotic Fiction

Soft Lips
The Introduction
Erotic Fiction: “Words”
Darkness and the Rose
Taste
THE SESSION THAT WENT WRONG
Be Careful What You Wish For
Motivation
porn
The Tube

Erotic Non-Fiction

For You, It’s Always Yes
Gawan: Intro to Flogging
The Talker: An Introduction
My wildest fantasy: Ship slut
Marionette
Time for something quick…
Spread Legs and Open Mouth
My Girl in Havana
Let’s Watch some Porn

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

An Artist’s Story: Tails and Portholes
Sleeping With Our Future President
To Dude Who Was Offended By Lack of Escort
Try Love, Not Anger
Risky Sex
Why Cosmo is the worst (again!)

Writing about Writing

Condoms: fictional contraceptive of choice
Writing Fat Characters In Erotica

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Masochistic Mastermind
Take me to where I need to be.

Erotic Fiction: “Words”

Posted on February 2, 2016December 29, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

“Your personality is like a raging hill fire, swarming the skies in red-orange intensity as you barrel down to consume the valley below.”

This is what he says to me with a tremor in his voice, his eyes lit up with hope that I will approve.

It’s good, I admit, but I have to make him work harder for this. Always, always harder.

I drag the chair across the carpet, centering it in front of him. He’s on his knees, his cock grazing his belly since long before I bade him strip his clothes in the cold air of our bedroom. I told him to kneel, which he did promptly. I didn’t need to cuff him this time because immediately, his hands were behind his back, clutched together in his frenzy. I’d hit the record button on his phone right there in front of his eyes, reminding him in the gesture that I expected him to play all of this back later in preparation.

“Pretty good,” I say. “But you can do better.”

I plop down in the chair, naked save for my boots. I press my knees together. Randall is panting. The head of his shaft swells as I slide my hands down my thighs. I cock my head, then trail my fingers over my stomach and around my nipples.

“You may speak.”

He bites his lip, thinking. He’s so jumbled up in his head. Wordsworth, Coleridge, Eliot, Poe—masters of the language he’s studied for so long, intimidating him in his anticipation.

“Your body is a mystical ice storm, chilling and stunning, freezing me to the core in my—”

“Nope,” I say. I slip my fingertips between my knees, deliberately parting my legs. The vinyl of my boots has tacked together even in that short window of time, and it makes the sexiest unsticking sound as I spread myself in front of his face. Randall stares at my pussy. I am dripping onto the chair. “You just called me an ice queen. Does this look icy to you?”

His eyes widen. I can practically see the words assembling themselves in his mind. We’d scrimped for a while, sending him to retreats and conferences for almost a decade to study this stuff, and I know he has all the words he’s looking for despite his temporary block.

B/W image of calligraphic pen resting on handwritten note; Steve Collender ©123RF.com

Steve Collender ©123RF.com

Randall hesitates.

I move both hands between my thighs, dragging my fingers along my folds. Swiping at my juices so we can both hear the squishing sound.

“Again, Randall.”

His cock leaps.

“Your sex,” he says, gathering steam, “is hot as the ash of a molten volcano.”

I nod. “Oh, I like that.” I glide a finger inside, pushing it all the way in. Randall shudders. I use my other hand to part my lips so he can see each thrust of my finger. When I slip in a second one, he gulps so hard his Adam’s apple bobs up like a flotation device from beneath the water.

I am close to coming, but I can’t tell him that.

I remove my fingers, then scissor them in the air between us. They shine with my dew under the lamplight of our bedroom.

I turn around. I keep close to his face, watching over my shoulder as the beads of sweat break along his hairline.

“Well?”

“Your cheeks are like two glowing orbs of—”

“Tsk. Cliché!” I crawl onto the chair and stick out my ass. The stiletto heels of my boots are less than an inch from his chin. He flinches as he stares at them, but he’s captivated as I grab onto the back of the chair to balance, then shove my finger in my mouth to suck it.

Randall has only two hours until his seminar.

I curve my hand over the round cheek of my ass, cupping it for him. He is mesmerized as I wedge my fingers into my crack, then push the wettest one against my tight opening.

“This?” I ask.

I loosen my muscles and sneak my finger inside. I don’t let him see my excitement, but it’s making it hard to keep a straight face.

In, out, in, out. I pulse my finger in my asshole and Randall squirms on his knees.

“Your ass is a sanctuary. Dark, hot, bliss.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Is it, now?” I waggle my hips, the strokes of my finger making my pussy impossibly wet. I get so into the motion that my breasts slap against the back of the chair.

Randall groans.

“Give me something really good, baby,” I growl. I pull my finger out, smacking my ass. His eyes flutter. My poet and his goddamn stage fright are so incredibly hot for me.

I switch hands to improve my balance on the chair. It’s sturdy, but I’m shaking hard enough I might fall off. I angle my fingers better and slide three of them inside. He stirs again, his dick swelling larger. I moan as I shift my fingers, banging them high and rubbing against my sweet spot so hard my climax is threatening to take over. Randall notices.

“Please, Emily. May I?”

“I’m still waiting,” I say. I clench my teeth. This has to wait.

He grumbles. He can do this. Over one hundred presentations of his award-winning poems and they want him all over the nation to teach his art.

He frees his tongue.

“My want for you is the silver-tipped crest of a tsunami’s wave, splashing over the world to drown everything out, away. Through this, I swim to you—my shoulders weak, my arms limp, my cock a titanium rod desperate to feel you inside.”

I break into laughter. This is good.

“You can fuck me now, Randall.”

He jumps up from his crouch, positioning himself behind my ass. His hands roam my hips like a whisper. When he guides himself against my slick, damp folds, both of us moan.

“Your cunt…” he mutters.

He plunges deep without finishing.

Because both of us know actions speak louder than words.

*

Looking Up

Posted on December 18, 2015July 20, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

Up until about a month ago, things over here were—oh, how to put this?—really fucking cray-cray in the brain department. There was a lot of good going on (and more I’ll get to shortly), and I tried to center my online attention to that—but offline, I was a wreck. This has all passed now, thank god, but things were pretty dark for a bit there.

I talked in a previous post about the sensory migraines that took over my life—but what I stayed pretty quiet on was the adjustment to the medication my doctor prescribed. Once it kicked in, it helped tremendously—but the month-long adjustment period was torture. My brain was definitely not my own for that wild ride, and, honestly, if you and I had a conversation anywhere in that month, I probably have no solid recollection of what we talked about. On top of that, other than one flash piece inspired by my migraines and a couple poems I scribbled in brief moments of clarity, I wrote little (coherently, anyway). It wasn’t until after I signed off of Skype from my interview with the wonderful Rose Caraway about my story in Libidinous Zombie that I realized how wildly out of my head I felt. Yikes!

Fortunately, my doctor turned out to be a genius. After that month of adjustment—and practically overnight—everything turned…well, normal. My migraines damn near disappeared, and all the side effects I was experiencing completely vanished. I keep describing it as the way the sky looks after a storm, when the clouds pull back to reveal a clear blue world—but I kid you not, it’s what my head felt like after that period passed. My spirits soared, and my usual optimist Fuck half full, I have a glass! self was ready to go screaming from the rooftops about how damn amazing I felt.

And that’s where I’ve been cruising for almost a month now—appreciating all the awesome things going on, and enjoying having my brain back to participate in them! Woo hoo!

So, let’s move along to the good department, shall we? First, some book news—I’ve been cruising away on edits for The Assignment, book one in my forthcoming Lessons in Control series. We had to do a few schedule adjustments, but I’m pleased to announce that it will be released in December 2016—and hey, you can already pre-order it on Amazon! 🙂 There’s no cover or blurb up yet, and I believe it might still say it’s coming out in June, but that’s soon to be fixed. I have much more to tell you about this book and the entire series as we get closer to publication, but let’s just say that as I’m working on edits, I’m getting really excited. It doesn’t hurt that I landed Rhonda Helms on this project, who is possibly the most enthusiastic editor on the planet and making me squeal. A lot. (Okay, and I admit—I’m one of those weird authors who loves editing almost as much as I love writing, so I’m having fun in this process either way.)

Meanwhile, I’ve still been keeping up on my poetry, and even wrote a piece loosely inspired by a scene in The Assignment. In the short story world, I got confirmation there will be a San Francisco reading for Best Women’s Erotica, Volume 1 on January 19^th at 6:30pm at the Good Vibrations Polk Street location (mark your calendars!). My BWE story “Ophelia the Second” is one I’m rather fond of, and I can’t wait to tell you more about the it and to hopefully meet you at the reading!

Speaking of reading…back in July, Rose asked me in my first KMQ’s interview what I’d be doing if I wasn’t a writer—and I told her I was looking into voice over as a future day job. Since then, I’ve taken a couple weekend workshops and learned all sorts of intriguing things, and decided this little dream will need to become a reality over the coming years. I even set up a recording space, which I officially used for the first time to record “Longing” in honor of the release of Coming Together: In Verse (a smokin’ erotic poetry anthology)! This voice over adventure is on hold while I work on books 2 and 3 in the Lessons in Control series…but it’s on my radar!

Finally, since it’s nearly Christmas, I couldn’t possibly skip mentioning my always free holiday short story, “Office Santa.” It’s about an office superstar named Kristi who has a major thing for the Santa suit—especially when it’s worn by one of her very favorite colleagues. Kristi was a character I had way too much fun writing, so I hope you’ll please check out her adventures. Also free for the holidays is a new flash piece called “Missing You,” hosted over at Tamsin’s Superotica as part of her hot annual advent calendar—please be sure to check out both my story and the others on this holiday countdown!

So, all in all, I’m thrilled to say things are looking up. WAY up.

Just in time for the start of a brand new (and super exciting) year, don’t you think?

XX,
Jade

“Missing You” is Part of Tamsin’s Superotica Advent Calendar!

Posted on December 9, 2015December 8, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

It’s a very special time of year—and for those of you not in the know, Tamsin Flowers hosts the hottest advent calendar in town. Each day until Christmas, she features stories from a bevy of fabulous authors that will definitely get your pulse racing. This year she kicked off with part one of a beautiful piece of her own called “Fallen,” and she’s featured so many other delicious stories too, from the likes of Lana Fox, Rachel Kramer Bussel, Katya Harris, and many more.

Today, Tamsin has kindly asked me over! She’s featuring a short and sweet flash piece of mine called “Missing You,” one I wrote a couple months back with an image of that achy feeling you get when the one you love is just too, too far away. So, with that in mind, I hope you’ll head over to Tamsin’s place to give this new release a read…

Once you do, be sure to keep an eye not only on all the other advent calendar stories, but Tamsin’s site, too. It’s a smokin’ hot destination!

Special thanks to Tamsin for hosting, and to you, readers, for checking out “Missing You“! 🙂

XX,
Jade

It’s Time for…Elust #76!

Posted on November 18, 2015November 15, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

Photo courtesy of Charlie in the Pool

Welcome to Elust #76 –

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing,

relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #75? Start with the rules, come back November 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Sex and the post-birth vagina

Just the two of us

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Tiny, shiny, bity snaps of steel…

I have fallen in and out of love with myself

~ Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*

I had An Abortion

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and

the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Fiction

The End of the Run
Ladies Who Lunch
kink of the week: dirty panties
Release
Brutal Nights
Because I Knew I Shouldn’t
Erotic Fiction: “Everything”
Look, Don’t Touch
As one night ends…
String Quartet
Unmasked: Part 1: The Gift
The Secret Rolls

Erotic Non-Fiction

The lick of love.
Tickle & Tease
Oral Sex, Don’t Forget Oral Hygiene – Whoops!
Feed my senses
Camming With A Foot Lover
Finding the Edges
Word power
The Mail Room
Doing It Herself

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

I Had An Abortion
The 7 Dimensions of Cock

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

When I Thought the Scene Was Done
Introducing the Abject Kitten, Part 2
The Joy of Fear
Talking About BDSM With Your Therapist
On Denial (and topping from the bottom)

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

I Did It My Way
Two
Fuckin With Fuck Boys Part II
You don’t need my permission to fuck my lover
Undercovers

Writing About Writing

The Hunt for Adult/Sex Friendly Businesses

“The Swap” Is Part of Dirty Dates — Out Today!

Posted on November 10, 2015November 8, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

For most of my life, I’ve been one for the experience. Be it riding terrifying rollercoasters, practicing aerial acrobatics, going bungee jumping, working Renaissance Faire, or even just having sex in the snow on the side of a ski run, I love finding all sorts of adventures and giving them a whirl. Rose Caraway pretty much nailed it after interviewing me over at the KMQ’s a few months back: I’m the type of gal who loves to try most everything—because it seems to me that if you’ve never tried it, you never really know what you like.

That’s why I’m slightly blushing to tell you about “The Swap,” out now in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s Dirty Dates: Erotic Fantasies for Couples. Today is the book’s official release day—and also Ms. Bussel’s birthday—so to celebrate both, I’m sharing some backstory…and “The Swap” happens to have an adventurous, real life backstory. The piece is an older one the wonderful Ms. Bussel picked for the anthology, and while I can say wholeheartedly that this tale is a work of fiction, it’s also one of the more reality based stories I’ve ever released into the world.

So let’s start with the story itself…“The Swap” is about a young woman named Serena, whose boyfriend Alex almost always plays the dom when they’re together. But for kicks, Serena’s requested that her boyfriend let her try putting him in the submissive role for a change—and once he says yes, she takes her adventure quite seriously. Serena goes all out in preparation for this event, because she wants to fully appreciate not only the part she’s playing, but everything it entails—which for her involves a specific dress, a vibrator, cuffs, eyelet screws, carabiners, a hell of a lot of chain, and a few holes drilled into the walls. And let’s just say, the two of them end up having a very good time with her ingenuity.

All right, so now you’re probably wondering—what’s the real life adventure behind this?

Here’s a hint: a scene involving five of the six items on Serena’s shopping list. 😉

I reiterate, this story is a work of fiction. My experience played out much, much differently than Serena and Alex’s (which is to say it didn’t really get off the ground), and unfortunately, it also didn’t turn out so well (not all people are as open to adventure as me, okay?). Nonetheless, some fifteen or so years later, I still keenly remember the fun in planning it out, including taking measurements of my room and roaming the aisles of the hardware shop for everything I could possibly need. So when I sat down to write “The Swap,” I wanted to twist the events for a couple who thrived on the same philosophy I have: try everything at least once, or you’ll never really know whether you like it.

Turns out, Serena and Alex really liked it.

Okay—time for an excerpt!

From “The Swap”:

“Glad you’re home, honey,” she said.

Alex set his bag on their drop table and gave her a quick look over. She was still in her own work clothes, and he pinched his eyebrows together in confusion. “I half expected you to be in some sort of getup when I got here,” he said.

“Oh, I’m not done.” She walked over to him. As usual, he wrapped his arms around her for a big kiss. And, also as usual, the way he twirled his tongue with hers sent tingles across her arms and made her instantly eager to strip down and comply with his every whim.

But not as usual, Serena squeezed his hip and pulled away.

“Assuming you’re still okay with the plan,” she said, winking, “I would suggest you take off your clothes.”

Alex chuckled. “Here?”

“Yes, here,” she said. She never giggled at Alex’s requests—at least, not since they’d grown more serious about this whole kinky bondage game they loved to play—and she expected the same right back. “My turn. My rules.” She bit her lip, enjoying the harsh tone she used to command him and the way he started the tiniest amount as she did it. “Now,” she snapped.

Alex unbuttoned his shirt. When he tugged it from his chest and dropped his trousers to the floor, Serena nodded in approval. The bulge in his boxer briefs told her he liked the game, so she stepped close enough for her chest to almost touch his and tilted her lips up toward his face.

“If you kiss me, I’ll touch you,” she said. It was one of his famous lines, and she delivered it with the same punch of temptation he did when he had her bound and whimpering beneath him.

Alex kissed her hard, and Serena cupped his dick through his underwear. He groaned against her mouth, then shifted his hips so he could rub more closely against her palm.

“Nope,” she said, yanking her hand away. “That’s not what I said. Now I guess I’ll have to tie you down.”

Alex’s expression told her everything she wanted to know—how curious he was, how aroused he felt, and how surprised he was at the way she’d already flipped their roles around. She rubbed the thick wedge of his cock through the fabric again and he lurched in her hand.

“Jesus, I want you,” he moaned.

“Soon. Here’s what I want you to do, Alex.” She leaned up to his ear, her heart racing as she ordered him around. This was so different, so much fun—never mind exciting, since her panties were already drenched with the images of what she had planned. “You’re going to take off your underwear and close your eyes. I’m going to blindfold you and take you to the bedroom. Are you okay with this so far?”

Alex was good about asking her if she was all right with each stage of their bondage games, and she wanted him just as comfortable. So when he nodded and closed his eyes, she grabbed the blindfold she’d left on the coffee table and returned to find him rock hard. Serena gave a quiet gasp at the sight—Alex naked was always a treat, and here he was: submissive, eyes closed, and ready for her to play with—but she shook it off. She would have her way with him soon enough.

“Good boy,” she said, reaching up to blindfold him. She made sure to accidentally rub her hips against his crotch as she tied the fabric over his face, which sent the heat right between her legs. Serena reminded herself that as much as she wanted to bend over and have him fuck her right here in the living room, she had to carry out her plan. It was her one chance.

She took his wrists. “Follow me.”

“Yes ma’am.” Alex let her guide him around the corner and down the hall, and Serena enjoyed the rush of control. They got all the way to the bedroom where she made him stand in the middle of the carpet, then she wrapped the cuffs around his ankles and wrists, snugging the buckles against his skin.

“How are you?” she asked. She grinned at her boyfriend wearing nothing but cuffs. She’d been like this for him so many times, but this reversal was giving her chills.

“I’m good so far,” he said, shaking his wrists about. He reached out for her but she dodged.

“Alex! Stand still,” she said. When he pouted, she gave his thigh a smack.

“Tease,” he muttered.

“Shh,” she snapped. “Hold still.”

Quickly, she grabbed each of the four carabiners and locked him into place.

***

And…you will find the rest of this adventure tucked neatly into Dirty Dates!

I am so thrilled to be included in another of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s anthologies, and honored to be in great company with a roster of amazing contributors. This is sure to be a delectable anthology full of hot erotic fantasies, so please pick up your copy on Amazon today!

Happy reading—and may your adventures be aplenty! 🙂

XX,
Jade

Erotic Fiction: “Everything”

Posted on November 3, 2015November 3, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

He was everything. Everything. The flight of my soul, the fire of my heart.

It’s all I can think as I bury my head in his shoulder, bearing my teeth to his skin, feeling the wild bursts of his pulse as I rock above him. His breath tumbles out into my hair, quiet gasps that tell me how much he needs this. How much he needs me.

Just as I need him.

“You,” he says.

The word breaks on his lips as I arch, sliding farther in his lap, taking him deeper into me. There is no sound in this room but ours, no thought between us but this, no awareness of anything beyond the sweet thrust of his cock as his fingertips dig into my back and steer me closer, like he’s never forgotten me.

I trail kisses up his chin and over his mouth. He sucks my lip between his teeth, his eyes open as he thrusts once, then again. That look, that one, says I will never leave you again. I will never let you go. I can feel it inside as I whimper and slide against him, feel it in my heart as his fingers tease their way up my flesh. He’s so deep inside I swear he’s penetrating my very soul, and I tilt back my head with a throaty moan.

I close my eyes then and he twines his fingers in my hair, staying deep despite his movement to lay me on my back. Our bodies are one on this mess of sheets. He wasn’t supposed to come here again, but then our life together had always been a disaster of shouldn’ts and shoulds.

But deep down, we knew what it was supposed to be.

“You,” he growls.

His kisses find my face as he presses closer, and our stomachs grow slick at the meshing of our bodies. The sway of our hips amplifies, a rapid pounding so intense I couldn’t see straight if I tried. And it’s with this motion—teeth locking on my earlobe, fingers clawing at my breast and down between us, grazing the swollen nub of my clit as he drives inside—that I can feel myself flying like I did, then. He leans back, watches as I gasp and moan, my lips numb as the spasms tear through me, making me shake uncontrollably as he continues to thrust, and thrust.

To love me like only he can.

When I finish shuddering, he releases the loudest groan. It’s the surrender that tells me he needed me then, now, forever. He comes inside, filling me with heat, and as we lay there it’s clear we’ve found our peace again.

“Always, you,” he pants.

His kisses are soft like raindrops from the corner of my eye down my cheek.

“And you,” I say.

Because he’s everything.

“The Lucky One” is Part of Libidinous Zombie – Out for Halloween!

Posted on October 31, 2015October 29, 2015 by Jade A. Waters

Happy Halloween! Today, I am thrilled to announce the official release of Libidinous Zombie—a phenomenal new erotic horror anthology edited and narrated by the brilliant Rose Caraway!

For those of you who haven’t caught on to Rose’s incredibly enthusiastic promotion of this book through #LZ and #8authors all over Facebook and Twitter, the project is more than just a concoction of sex and gore. Rose and Big Daddy had a vision with this one—and it’s all about the darkness within each of us. I think Remittance Girl nailed it with her post about the release of Libidinous Zombie, in which she said, “Both erotic and horrific, the libidinous zombie that lives inside all of us is only really addressed at the intersection of horror and eroticism.” That’s the real kernel in this awesome new release, and it’s why Rose has said again and again that this is her special dream project.

And I am honored to be a part of this spectacular, spooky dream!

So, to celebrate release day (and Halloween), today I’m going to tell you about my story, “The Lucky One,” and I’m giving you a snippet of the story itself. I’d also like to encourage you to check out The Sexy Librarian’s Blog-Cast, where Rose has already started interviewing each of the authors included in this anthology. There, you can hear more about them, their writing, and their thoughts on the marriage of erotica and horror! (I’ll post a link to mine when it comes up, soon!)

For now, let’s start with a little back-story. “The Lucky One” ventures into my past…when a long time ago, I wrote a story about a stripper werewolf that was so titillating I realized that what I really longed to write was erotica. See, when Rose sent out her call for this anthology, I knew that story—that freakish, dark carnival ground, and the roguish werewolf I’d once envisioned thriving there—needed to come back to life. Except this time, the tale belonged to someone else, an adventurous young woman named Claudia, who snuck in to a special night show she should never have seen.

Because from that night on, her life would never be the same…

Excerpt from “The Lucky One”:

I swiped at a bead of sweat rolling down my cheek, surprised that what should have been such a ridiculous act was so clearly turning me on. But then, nothing in this show had been what it seemed—it kept swinging from one extreme to another so fast, like that moment when the rollercoaster’s about to drop—a blend of excitement and shit, get me off this ride.

The music’s tempo changed again, and the dancers cruised off the stage, each of them picking an audience member to dance with. The buxom woman headed straight for Rusty. I’d never seen him beam so bright. He shot me a delirious grin once she drew him up from his chair, and as I cheered in encouragement, she led him onto the stage. I couldn’t stop giggling as she laid him down and crawled all over him, sniffing at his neck, his chest, and his crotch like the wolf woman she was supposed to be. The whole audience was hollering and cheering, and clothes actually started coming off—not just with the dancers and their respective partners, but from random people in the audience. It was like the heat in the tent had made everyone crazy, or maybe it was the scent of the mist raining down on us.

I glanced up, curious, but a hand slipped under my chin.

“Hi there,” Sergi said. His warm fingers and husky voice sent a pulse up my spine. I swallowed hard, because this close, I smelled on him what I’d noted earlier, but stronger. It was the scent of man, of sex.

Of desire.

I was fangirling. Hard.

“What’s your name?” he said.

“Claudia,” I whispered. Sergi straddled my knees, and the rollercoaster began again, trapping me between arousal and shock. The most delicious smile crossed his lips as he dragged his fingertips over his hips, then trailed them to the button of his leather pants and snapped them open.

I heard a groan from the stage and looked past Sergi’s pelvis, spotting Rusty fully naked with the woman grinding all over him. Sergi steered my gaze back to him with the grasp he still had on my chin, and then he bent down so his face lined up with mine. “I wouldn’t worry about him, Claudia.” I tried to breathe, and he continued. “You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

He slid his hand into my hair, tugging it slightly, bringing a moan to my lips. When I cocked my head he flashed his smile again, and all I knew right then was him.

I’ve told you, I wish I could explain all this better. The way, out of nowhere, his body made me ache, or how the look in his eyes grabbed ahold of me, yanking something up from inside. Sergi leaned closer, tipping his lips toward mine, and my heart thumped in my chest.

“May I kiss you, Claudia?” he asked.

That voice filled my head, swimming in my thoughts, consuming every logical answer and leaving me with the one I muttered then.

“Yes.”

Sergi ran his fingers down my neck and pressed his mouth to mine. Our kiss was deep and so hot, our lips parting wide as our tongues tangled. I gasped when he slipped his hand down and cupped my breast, but when he lifted me out of my chair I fell into him, feeling the steel of his chest, and the hardness of his cock through his pants. He scooped me into his arms and I didn’t even protest, letting him carry me onto the stage not ten feet from Rusty and the other dancer, where they fucked hard and loud. It was strange to see Rusty like that, but my nipples tightened at the view, at the sounds, before Sergi laid me down and kissed me again. His hands ripped open my shirt. I touched his face as he gazed into my eyes, and tingles shot through my arms and legs.

I wanted him like I’d never wanted anyone in my life.

“This isn’t a strip show,” I murmured.

Sergi slid his hands between my thighs. He strummed me through the fabric, his words hot against my face.

“This isn’t a strip show, no. Much, much better.”

***

Libidinous Zombie features every horror you can imagine merged with sultry, erotic storytelling that is sure to terrify you and turn you on. With tales by Allen Dusk, Remittance Girl, Malin James, Tamsin Flowers, Raziel Moore, Janine Ashbless, Rose Caraway herself, and me, I’ve no doubt you will find yourself looking inside to the deepest, darkest corners of your soul…where pure primal fear meets intense, heart-pounding lust.

Now the question is—are you brave enough to join us?

XX,
Jade

Erotic Fiction…With Aura

Posted on September 22, 2015December 29, 2016 by Jade A. Waters

In the last three weeks, I’ve been through two doctor phone appointments, five live doctor appointments, one MRI, several blood tests, and even one full-fledged panic attack. To say it’s been a little bit of a roller coaster is an understatement—but the good news is, there’s nothing major wrong. Yay!

So what is going on? Well, according to the fabulous neurologist I saw last week, my migraines have morphed into something really goddamn special. I am fortunate in that I don’t generally get the nausea and hammer-pounding headaches of most traditional migraine sufferers; unfortunately, I get all sorts of weird sensory problems instead: depth perception issues, tingling and/or numbness in my arms, mental disconnect, vertigo, occasional vision problems, and sometimes, the headache. This time, however, I developed a bizarre numbness in my cheek—and later, the entire side of my face—paired with completely blurred vision in one eye, which led some doctors to believe I might be having a stroke. (That would be the day the panic attack struck, by the way.) I am thrilled to say that isn’t the case, but it does appear a chronic basilar/sensory migraine took residence in my head for over three weeks—complete with all these fun new symptoms!

I’m getting to a point here, I swear (migraine brain fog is real, people). When I mentioned to the neurologist that I’ve been okay writing in short spurts in the morning, but everything else is sending my head into a spin, he suggested I stop the cycle of migraine with a heavier duty NSAID and a few days off (and yes, I totally followed doctor’s orders there). However, when I asked him how migraines could literally change overnight and cling, desperately, in ways they never had before, his response was the most poetic and frustrating thing I could possibly have heard:

“The life of a migraine is a mysterious and beautiful thing.”

I totally laughed that off. But Saturday morning, as I lay tossing and turning under my covers in a groggy, migraine-clouded and dreamlike state, I was thinking about the bizarre tingles raining over my brain that didn’t hurt at all, but that were making things really fuzzy and weird.

And suddenly, I had this spark of an idea:

What if a person could embody the essence of a migraine? What would she be like, as a lover?

It took me a while to drag myself out of bed to type this one up, but the story below is what happened as I sat down to imagine the mysterious and beautiful life of a migraine.

I hope you enjoy it.

XX,
Jade

AURA

Image of woman straddling man, shadowed

Katarzyna Białasiewicz ©123RF.com

She comes into his life like a comet—a fiery bolt arcing across the skies, haloed and crashing down into the open meadow of his existence. She seems a quiet blip, at first, awakening beneath the sun on a lush bed of grass. She stretches herself out against it, her long, pale body blinding in its innocent beauty. Her fingers clutch the earth as she shimmers in the light, and she sighs at the caress of this world, this new place that surrounds her in warmth.

Instantly, he is drawn to her, knows her otherness and craves it. He takes her in as she begins to bloom, as she shows him that she is, in fact, no innocent at all. She is all curves and smiles, arms that encircle and hold, words of sweetness that tend to him just as he tends to her—but behind her glistening, loving eyes, there is something else. It is furious like the comet she rode in on, unbounded and wild, and it lures him forward in the heated swarm of his mind. It shushes away his fears when she kisses his cheeks, his forehead, his mouth, and when she tugs at his clothes and limbs, she draws him further into her sphere.

In the dark of night he invites her to his bed, for though she is unsurpassed in her beauty, it’s her mystery that has him tangled in her. He finds himself beneath her in the light of the moon, his breath stolen as she rocks above. Her hips grind in swirls of chaos, her hands possessing his skin, her kisses speeding his heart. The way she moves sinks into the chasm of his soul. She seeks all of him—not just his length buried within her, but the depths of every crevice of his being, every utterance of his heart, every glimmer of his mind as she writhes against him and his sheets. Her movements become glorious and pained, ripples on the surface of a once-placid lake when the cries spill out from her lips. He sees her then as what she is—nails sharp over him, and teeth cutting his skin in jagged lines. But her whimpers are all he hears, and they seize him in their rock together, taking him beyond every sensation he knew before.

When she collapses over his chest, they lie in silence.

His days are fraught with tension in his efforts to please her. He bathes her, feeds her, loves her through the pinch of her lips and the furrow of her brow. She will not speak, and she moves like a streak of lightning—stubborn and sharp, illuminating their path and yet setting him on edge, pasting goose bumps on his skin like stars against the deep black sky. He thinks, perhaps, the end approaches, that she is sparing them both the hurt to come, soothing the quiet that will fill his life until she falls to the surface of his earth once more.

They dance, this time, before bed. She swings him out in vibrant bursts, then yanks him close. She grasps him so tight his breath slips from inside and out into the vortex of the room. Her heat builds, scorching, suffocating. Blinding. He thinks as they spin, around and around, how much he loves and hates her. How he craves her, needs her. In her laugh he finds the answer to existence, a blurry question that leads to more questions but that, somehow, lets him settle beneath her in the way she commands.

He imagines curving his fingers around her throat, squeezing her away to nothingness—but she has coiled herself around him so tightly, he no longer knows where she ends and he begins.

When she fucks him again, her moans shatter mirrors and rattle pictures off the walls. Her gasps vibrate the room, the bed, the air trapped inside him, stifling in its icy slide against the innermost parts of his lungs. But he is enraptured with the thrust of her hips, with the sweat breaking over his chest when she sucks the tips of his fingers, with the shift of her body over him in the moonlight, even as he feels himself slipping away with her. He is losing his grasp on what is real, what is good, and when she comes, her cries and shudders render him frozen. She keeps arching until he erupts in her, and every last drop of him becomes hers.

He is still when she curls behind him, tucking herself close to his back. Her hands trace over his side, fingertips painting electric currents that circulate in his limbs, up into his face. She kisses his shoulder, then his neck. And though he cannot move, he feels her words when she breathes them into his ear, a shock of sound bursting inside his soul.

“I love you,” she whispers, “and I’ll see you again soon.”

In the morning, he wakes on damp, rumpled sheets. The evidence of their love has scented his skin, and the pillowcase beneath his cheek. He breathes in clean air, his air, and slowly lifts himself from the bed.

She is gone.

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