Steamy Excerpt from The Healer...

 As promised, here is an excerpt from my recently published erotic romance novella "The Healer"...

        "She could feel the wetness between her thighs and thought longingly of a bearded stranger's face rasping along her tender skin. Her hips swayed with the longing as her fingers rubbed and pulled on her nipple. She would prolong this, torture her own body with desire until her bud begged to be touched, throbbing with need. 

        Her eyes closed to the ecstasy as her hands explored her breasts. She knew why men loved to touch them. They were soft and full and round, and she enjoyed their touch as well.   

      Suddenly her skin sizzled with fingerprints of heat. There was a hand on her thigh, a smooth and seeking hand moving slowly towards her wetness. She flung her eyes open, and there, there was the bearded stranger from her dream. Dark hair pulled back in a loose braid framed an angular face with a nose akin to an old Roman statue. Piercing green eyes looked upon her with such genuine desire she could not think beyond the heat of his hand.

          "I am the healer. I was sent for." He rasped gently as his hand moved slowly, but assuredly, toward her most sacred opening. They were silent for a moment. "Shall I try a different method, or is this to your liking?"

           She knew this was not a dream, though the absurdity of the situation was not lost on her. There were no appropriate, formulating thoughts. Her body screamed for this. "You may continue," was all she could whisper. 

      A smile slid across his face; his eyes half-closed in satisfaction as his hands found their mark. A warm, strong finger pushed into her open flesh. She squeezed in sudden ecstasy, wanting to draw him in more. Never had a man's touch reached her so deeply, so intensely. She rocked her body towards him, trying to draw more of him in. He chuckled then, a deep, resonant sound full of desire and satisfaction. She rocked her body to the rhythm of his hand. Together they found a steady pace that quickly began to crescendo. She could feel the ache growing, the swelling of the flesh between her legs, and thought for a moment she would swoon.  

              The stranger slowed his pace and put a gentle hand on her belly to still her, removing wet, confident fingers from her. She looked at him, dazed, fighting a whimper that arose. He would bring her this far and leave her unsatisfied? As if reading her thoughts, he bent and kissed her knee.   

               "Your patron is away for the day, I presume?" he asked before placing another kiss just above where he placed the last one. Eleanor felt she should argue with this man about his use of the word patron but found she did not have the desire to talk overmuch. 

             "It is not commonly known what our relationship is, so he will not be back here in the light of day," she replied.

          "No matter if he did, they would not dare disturb the 'healer' while he is working," he slid his tongue along her inner thigh. "Shall I presume my treatment is to your liking, or shall I try a more traditional method?" He paused, his eyes staring up at her from behind a glistening mound of curls, patiently waiting for her response.

            She had never before been with a stranger. By society's standards, she was promiscuous. She was not a virgin when she met her husband, having already shared a pile of hay once or twice with the neighbor's son. But the three men she had made love to had been men she knew. This man before her, the one whose puffs of warm breath she could feel on her throbbing folds of delicate skin, was a stranger, known only to her in a dream. Surely that meant they had met before, or that they were fated to meet? Her body screamed for a resolution to this mental indecision. She pushed her moistness toward his face in response.   

             A groan escaped him as he buried his face in her curls. His hands reached under her backside to grasp the fleshiness of her hips and lift her towards him. She felt the warmth of his tongue as he slid it deep into her body and out again, repeating a rhythm that was surely to fling her apart. He paused in his penetrating to slide his tongue up to her clitoris, the swelling ball of nerves and flesh that might be her undoing. He sucked the ball into his mouth and flicked it gently with his tongue. Her body trembled convulsively, feeling overpowered by the sensation but not wanting it to stop. She placed her foot on his shoulder to lift her hips higher. 

                He took this as an invitation."

Download a copy to read the climax here. 

The Penetration Begins...

 The Healer is finally published! It is a romance, but there is a lot of touching and penetrating and bodies rippling with desire and shattering with climax...all those yummy things we want when we read erotica. I'll leave a link to buy the ebook here. Stay tuned for a steamy excerpt. 

"Who is this bearded stranger in her bed, touching her intimately and bringing her to a shattering climax? They call him the healer, and she needs more. 

After her beloved husband's death, Eleanor finds herself at the country estate of her friend and bed partner. In 18th century England, the options for a newly widowed woman with a strong desire for physical touch are limited, until a sultry dream brings a new lover to her bed. Between the seductive memories of her husband, late-night visits from her host, and deeply penetrating moments with the healer, Eleanor must decide how she will get her feet on the ground."

Buy The Healer here.

Almost published...

The Healer, An Erotic Romance, is completed and with beta readers at the moment. It's been hard to finish during this pandemic as I have small children, and they are always home. I had to put the story away for quite a while. 

I am happy to say that it is finally finished! It took getting up at 5am every morning to write while my children were still asleep, but it's done. I am sure there will be some editing to do, but I am confident that the story is there and will need little editing. This novella is my priority at the moment. I look forward to putting it out into the world and getting into the erotic short stories that I have planned. 

Sex on a plane, but with a twist. Ménage a trois with a domineering artist. Getting kinky in a canoe without letting others know what is happening...

Plenty of material is at the ready, just loosening up my hands to get it all written. 

to novella...

A novella it is.

Eleanor and the Healer was originally intended as a short erotica story, but has blossomed from there into a novella. As the characters began to unfold on the page, as I dove deeper into their stories and learned more about their motivations - why they longed for each other, or found pleasure in certain touches - I  wanted to know them more intimately.

Perhaps this is a rookie mistake. Perhaps getting attached to erotica characters is not advised. Maybe the saying "get in and get out" is an apt euphemism for how to traditionally tell an erotica story. Well, honestly, sex for me is often more erotic within the context, the build-up - the story.

So for now my first erotica short story is quickly becoming a novella.

But I have other stories in the works. And now I know to remind the characters that we are not seeking to read about their love or relationship woes, but that we want to see and understand them in the arousing and carnal acts that penetrate our flesh. We want them to undress before us, stand tall with nipples erect, and pull us in.

And to be fair to the erotic scenes in Eleanor and the Healer - there are a lot of them - I think adding more story around them will help to ease any potential cramping of the hand.

What turns you on?

As I dive deeper into the world of writing erotica, new questions are arising. I had intended to write short erotica. However, as I write my first series of Eleanor and The Healer, I find myself more involved with the characters; their backstories, their future, and how they all relate to each other.

The sexy scenes in this series are hot. I don't shy from the ways that lovers pleasure each other. But is this all you, the reader, want? Is it enough to flow from sex scene to sex scene with a brief development of the plot weaving them together? Or would you like to plunge deeper into the depths of their humanity; their desires, their frustrations?

Does too much plot interrupt the purpose of reading short erotic romance? Or do you need the plot to really appreciate when lovers do find each other in gardens, on desktops, and in unfamiliar beds?

I want to write what you want to read, the words that will urge your hand to drift down between your legs or seek out another willing body to explore. What kind of erotic romance do you like to read?

What turns you on?

Please feel free to comment below with any insights or suggestions. I'm listening.

Where my erotica writing began...

I finished the final edit on my first story in the Eleanor and the Healer Series. This series is a sexy tale of a young widow from 1750's England who is taken in by a friend of her husband. Contrary to what history would have us believe about women during this time, Eleanor relishes her physical intimacy with men, even ones who first appear to her in dreams. 

I first sat down to write this story while staying at a haunted B&B in Northern California. I was there on a mini, solo retreat to finish work on another writing project. My dream the first night was a very steamy, erotic dream, so real that when I woke there was a stranger's name on my lips. After starting my day with a shower and breakfast, I sat down to write. Oddly though, I could not pull my attention away from the bed. And every time I looked towards the bed, a blush rose in my cheeks. Before I could continue with the writing project that brought me to this room, I first had to write this scene from Eleanor and the Healer. Only then was I able to move past the dream and get to the work at hand. 

Months later, I came back to the story I had begun and from there grew the idea that perhaps I could write erotica as well. More months have passed and I am gathering an arsenal of stories for publishing. Each one has triggered my arousal, whispered seduction into my ear until I am squirming in my seat. Each character is respected, in control of their own bodies, and loves to share intimate and erotic touches. 

My forage into writing erotica began over a year ago with the tantalizing dream of a well-skilled man. Perhaps I had tapped into an old story, one recorded onto the ethereal film of this place many, many decades ago. Or possibly, my creative mind was just ready to write something different. Either way, this first connection between Eleanor and the Healer, the first sex scene I ever wrote, will always feel like a friend. And, I imagine, will continue to arouse me for many years to come. 

Excerpt from "Eleanor's Predicament"; Book 1 in the Eleanor and the Healer Series:

"She squeezed in sudden ecstasy, wanting to draw him in more. Never had a man’s touch reached her so deeply, so intensely. She rocked her body towards him, trying to draw more of him in. He chuckled then, a deep, resonant sound full of desire and satisfaction. She rocked her body to the rhythm of his hand. Together they found a steady pace that quickly began to crescendo. She could feel the ache growing, the swelling of the flesh between her legs, and thought for a moment she would swoon."    

Poetic Seduction

Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines poetry as "writing that formulates a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience in language chosen and arranged to create a specific emotional response through meaning, sound, and rhythm".

No, I am not writing poetry here. Nor do I urge one to compare my erotica prose to the defined build and constructed beauty of poetry. However, I do believe this definition leaves us wiggle room to look at well-crafted erotica with a tint of the poetic. My writing aims to bring you into the seduction of the moment. I want the reader to feel the whisper of touch on the tender skin of yearning, see the depth of a man when the longing of flesh strips away his arrogance, feel the power of a woman unleashed by arousal. I want to provoke your desires with a pause, a sigh, words written on the page in a rhythm of temptation, longing, and satisfaction. 

I write the fantasies that arouse me. With these tales, I intend to dive into the deepest sinews of instinct where culture and religion and shame do not exist. In this place, I hope to remind us that coming together with another human, in desire and longing, respect and sometimes even love, is a powerful and liberating experience.

No, I am not writing poetry here. But perhaps if you follow the temptation, you'll find yourself spent in a fog of tantalizing imaginings and satisfying endings.

This blog is my journey to writing erotica.