GENREALITY

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Tuesday, December 18th, 2012 by Sasha White
Excerpt: One Weekend

It’s excerpt week, and I wanted to share a little bit of ONE WEEKEND with you. This was my first menage story. I’d written menage scenes, but never a story, and I was pleasantly surprised at readers reactions to it. They loved it so much, and kept asking for more, that I’ve been working on a sequel. ONE CHOICE is the title of the sequel, and it’ll be out by the end of the month. FOr now, take a peek, and see if you’re intrigued.

* * * * *

“Oh my God. You didn’t!”
Twilight had turned the sky into a wash of red purple and orange, but the temperature hadn’t dropped more than three or four degrees, so we were still out on the balcony. Our chairs circled the small glass table littered with empty pizza boxes and beer bottles, and we all had a nice buzz going. Against both Rick and Mark’s objections I’d wrapped a cotton sarong around my body when I’d gotten up to pay the pizza delivery guy, and kept it on while we ate. Despite my adding a layer—albeit a thin one—of clothing, our conversation was once again in dangerously erotic territory. For the past three hours no matter what we talked about, the conversation always worked its way back to sex. It was like the three of us were bonded by one great big horny mind.
“Why not?” Mark asked with mock innocence. “The guy wanted to suck dick, and I enjoy being sucked. We both got what we wanted.”
“But you never even saw him. You have no idea who it was!”
The men shared a laugh, and Rick grinned. “That’s the point of a glory hole, babe.”
A glory hole. A hole in the wall in the bathroom of some club that guys could stick their dick in and get it sucked by some nameless faceless person on the other side of the wall. My mind was thinking, how stupid is that? But there was no denying the arousal curling in my belly and the slick building between my thighs. How sexy would it be to suck a complete stranger off? STD’s aside, the idea was dirty and dangerous, and it got me hot in all the right ways.
As if he could read my mind Rick stared at me intensely. Then his left eye blinked slow and seductively. It was a small and simple gesture, no leer, no smile, just a wink that said he knew what the sex talk was doing to me. The man knew that behind the logical straight-laced accountant was a girl who secretly loved the raw and raunchy.
Speaking of which… “How do you know for sure it was a him?”
“Easy.” Mark shrugged. “Men do it different.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because I’ve had both. If a guy is sucking your dick, he’s doing it because he enjoys it and it shows. Most of the time when a girl is doing it, she’s doing it to either get something from you or because you’ve begged. They’re not exactly enthusiastic.”
The mind boggled. What to tackle first? The fact that Mark, a guy so unrelentingly male, had been sexual with other guys before. How many and just how sexual? Had they all been nameless, faceless glory-hole types or perhaps there was something I didn’t know about our friend? Then there was the fact that some women give head because they enjoy it.
Before I could decide which direction to take the conversation, Mark did it for me by smirking at Rick and saying, “I don’t understand why women hate to give head so much.”
I tried to sound casual. “Not all women hate it.”
Mark snorted into his beer, but Rick nodded. “She’s right.”
As if neither of us had spoken, Mark continued on. “And what’s even stranger is that women don’t like getting it either. I love eating a woman until she’s come a couple of times. Then her pussy is all juicy and wet and delicious, but that embarrasses them. Commercialism has women so convinced men don’t like the smell of a cunt that they only let you get down there and have a couple of licks before they pull you up by the hair. It’s been so long since I’ve had more than a tease I can’t even remember what a woman tastes like. Guys like to know when a woman’s turned on and the juice tells us that. It’s hot.” Mark glared at me shaking his head. “I just don’t get your kind.”
“Not all women are like that,” I said again. “Some of us actually enjoy oral sex. Giving and receiving.”
“Like Angie,” Rick said, waving the hand with his beer in it in my direction. “I can tie her to the bed and eat her over and over until she screams, and then she thanks me for it.”
Mark’s eyebrows shot north, hiding under his shaggy bangs. “Really?”
“Oh yeah, and sometimes I think she prefers sucking me to fucking me.”
Both men looked at me and a heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment crept up my neck and into my cheeks.
“Reeaaally,” Mark repeated, drawing the word out and smiling at me. “I’ve always known a bad girl lurked beneath those sexy secretary outfits you wear, but this is even hotter than your ability to slam tequila with the boys.”
Choosing to ignore Mark’s bad girl comments, I addressed Rick’s. “It’s not that I don’t love the way you love me, babe, but yeah, I have to admit there are times when I get off more on giving you pleasure than receiving it.”
Rick’s dark eyes gleamed. “C’mon, Ange, be honest. There’s more to it than giving me pleasure.”
Blame it on the sweltering summer heat, the sexual tension that had been building ever since I’d sauntered out onto the deck in my underwear, or the tequila, but I couldn’t help myself. Sitting around with two hot and tempting men talking about sex for three hours had loosened my tongue and primed my pussy. The naughty devil that had perched on my shoulder all night jumped up and ran away with my tongue.
“I love to suck dick,” I admitted bluntly. “I love the feel of a man’s cock in my mouth. The totally male musky flavor, the sounds a man makes when he’s on the edge, the hot throbbing against my tongue as his cock gets bigger and harder and come starts to leak out the tip. I love it. I love it all.”
Lust was stamped clearly on Mark’s face. “Damn, Rick. You’re one lucky bastard.”
“If Rick said it was okay, I’d tell you to come see me the next time you want your cock sucked,” I continued rashly. “I’d show you a woman could enjoy it. I bet I’d give you the best head you ever had, better than any man or woman has ever given you.”
Both men stared at me, mouths open in surprise. By the time my brain caught up with my mouth Rick had that look in his eyes. The look that said “I double dog dare you”.
Unlike most men, Rick wasn’t pissed off by what I’d said. Oh no, instead of getting all bent out of shape, my man was…aroused.
Sure enough, he quirked an eyebrow at me. “Go for it.”

Three lovers. Two days. One bed…

Angie Wilson is a lucky girl. She loves her job, her life, and her man, Rick Craig. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t revel in the attentions of a good-looking, athletic boyfriend who’s secure enough to encourage her most adventurous appetites?

One of the worst heat waves in memory has hit town, and by Friday Angie is ready to really let loose. Craig and his best friend, Mark, are chilling on the patio with cold beer when she gets home from work, and the three get comfortable. As the night moves on and the talk turns to sex, Angie longs for more than just cool air on her bare skin.

And the heat’s making her just crazy enough to go for it.

Read More about ONE WEEKEND

Wednesday, November 14th, 2012 by Charlene Teglia
Dream Projects, Defining Your Dream

Dream projects. This strikes me a little like the “book of the heart” discussion that erupts periodically with people trying to define what it means. And really that’s the creamy caramel center of a writing life; you have to define it for yourself, and redefine it as things change. What is success to you? What is a dream project to you? Are you allowed to have more than one dream and to change your mind?

I’ve had a lot of writing dreams and a lot of them have come true. First I dreamed of walking into a bookstore and seeing MY book for sale. That happened. And then there were more books, and books in libraries that anybody could borrow. There was the dream of seeing my work translated into foreign languages and hearing from readers around the world. That dream came true and is still coming true as more editions happen and more readers tell me that they’ve discovered me in Russia, in Thailand, in Germany. The dream of writing for more than one publisher, of qualifying for membership in SFWA, I could go on and on. Everything I’ve written has been a dream project in its own way.

I still have dreams. Dreams of finishing projects that time, energy and other commitments have pushed off. Dreams of more books, new books. New definitions of success. Just this month I came up with an entirely new idea for a whole series of projects that represent an enormous dream, not necessarily because it would be award-worthy or wildly lucrative or a great shot at bestsellerdom, but because it would further a passion of mine.

There is plenty of room for all kinds of dreams in the writing life, in every life. “We are such things as dreams are made of”, so why not dream a lot? Nobody gets to judge your dreams but you.

Tuesday, November 13th, 2012 by Sasha White
Dream Project….is there such a thing?

Our Theme Week subject is Dream Projects….and it’s created some interesting posts. The question is, what would you write if you could write anything…meaning if time, money, market…whatever didn’t matter. If there were no other considerations, what would would you work on?

Diana took the view that every project is a dream project because she loves writing… Carrie’s touches on this too, and I found after reading her post yesterday, that I could almost just type “Ditto”. LOL

By that I mean, I do love what I write, but there are times when I get ideas that don’t fit with the career path I’m on, on the obligations I have. Then there’s times when I have no obligations, or contracts, and too many ideas that I love and I can’t decide. Plus, like Ken says in his Saturday post I have a bit of a yen to try my hand at a screenplay, but haven;t come up with the right idea for one just yet.

All in all, when I really sit here and think about what my Dream Project is, it’s the one that will touch readers. Let me try to explain this. Have you ever read a book that made you laugh out loud? Or cry tears for the pain the characters feel? That’s my Dream Project. I want to write that book.

To me, there is nothing like getting a letter from a reader who tells me something in one of my stories struck a deep chord within them. Sometimes I strive to keep things light and fun and sexy, and others I aim to push the envelope with a bit of kink or a character who’s not the most sympathetic, but I rarely strive to hit readers on a gut-wrenching level that makes a story unforgettable. My dream project is the one that takes me there when writing it, and hopefully hits readers the same way. And you know what? I think the idea simmering in my skull for the last few months just might be it. :)

Wednesday, September 12th, 2012 by J.A. Pitts
Answering Interview Questions

1) Do you write every day? 5 days a week? Only on weekends?  When I’m on a project I write everyday, 7 days a week unless some family obligation gets in the way and even then I tend to write something in the cracks somewhere.  When I’m between projects I tend to hibernate and not write any fiction, just read as much as I can, blog, do social media, etc.  Right now, I’ve had a crazy busy summer so I’ve not got any where near the writing done that I wanted to, but I’m climbing back on the saddle and will write several days this week and hope to get back into the steady rhythm here soon.

2)What comes first for you, usually. the character, or the story idea?  90% of the time for me with short fiction it’s the character.  Sometimes its a scene that just appears in my head and I have to write it down to see if it is going anywhere.   On rare occasions, when I am writing to a themed anthology, I’ll come up with the story idea or McGuffin first.  That’s how Black Blade Blues started.  Mythos first, then sword, then character.  Subsequent novels in this series are started based on a central idea that the characters struggle against.

3) Do you/can you work on more than one project/idea at a time?  As we are learning, no one truly multi-tasks.  When I’m on a story, I work that story.  This is why I find it so hard to read and write over the same time frame.  Typically if I start reading a story or book, I stop writing until I’m finished.  I’ve been working on that with a little success, but for me it’s hard enough trying to hold the entirety of a novel in my head when I’m writing.  When I start adding a different story I’m trying to manage and follow, I run out of storage.

4) Favorite mode of getting the words down…desktop, laptop, Alphasmart, pen and paper? Definitely my laptop.  This is the second laptop I’ve had that was dedicated solely to my writing and I love it.  No games, no major distractions.  I don’t even have my Tweetdeck loaded there.  I do a bit of email and internet searching, but that’s it.  Just writing and the business of writing.  As for Pen and Paper.  I leave that for role-playing (which I unfortunately have not done in years).  I just can’t read my own handwriting after the fact.

5) What do you feel is your biggest strength as a writer?  Character and emotion.  This is where I feel most comfortable.  I’ve been told that I write powerful characters.  I think overall story structure is where my growth is most pronounced.  Weaving a lean and coherent story has been a wonderful growth experience for me.  I tend to want to cover every possible moment and action to the point I cut a lot before I go out to beta readers.   Comments from readers have led me to believe that I’m improving, so that’s good enough for me.

6) Do you have a Dream Project or idea that’s sitting in the back of your mind that you hold there as a “someday I’ll write that” sort of thing? Interesting question.  I have a backlog of stories I’d love to write.  I have ideas for a dozen more novels just waiting for me to get around to writing them.  There was one novel I struggled with for years and had decided I just wasn’t skilled enough to write it.  It came back up all the time.  Just recently I’ve discovered that the reason I couldn’t write it is because it’s a cliche and the plot structure was not coherent enough to carry a full novel.  That was an interesting epiphany to have.  As I grow as a writer, I find that that I see things like this faster.  I’ve got a lot of growth ahead of me and I’m looking forward to the journey.  So, no, I don’t have a Dream Project at this point.  To me they are all Dream Projects.  I’m still overwhelmed with the fact there are books with my name on them in the local bookstores and are being read world wide.

Tuesday, August 7th, 2012 by Sasha White
One Weekend: excerpt

In 2010 I released ONE WEEKEND with Samhain publishing. It’s a 12,000 word menage story that I wrote purely for fun. It’s a short, sexy romp, that has turned into a reader favorite. I’m often asked when I’ll do another Rick/ Angie / Mark story….well…I’m happy to say another one will be out later this month.

So..I thought I’d share an excerpt from ONE WEEKEND with y’all. I hope you enjoy.

Three lovers. Two days. One bed…

Angie Wilson is a lucky girl. She loves her job, her life, and her man, Rick Craig. What red-blooded woman wouldn’t revel in the attentions of a good-looking, athletic boyfriend who’s secure enough to encourage her most adventurous appetites?

One of the worst heat waves in memory has hit town, and by Friday Angie is ready to really let loose. Craig and his best friend, Mark, are chilling on the patio with cold beer when she gets home from work, and the three get comfortable. As the night moves on and the talk turns to sex, Angie longs for more than just cool air on her bare skin.

And the heat’s making her just crazy enough to go for it.


Check out this little intro to Angie and the boys…

The second I entered the apartment my clothes started coming off. I kicked off my heels, dropped my skirt and peeled off my starched white blouse as I walked to the kitchen. I’d worked hard to become a CPA and I loved the work, but the uptight clothes required in our office were not what I would call comfortable. Opening the fridge I just stood there…a soft moan of pleasure slipping from between my lips as cool air finally hit bare skin.

“Ange?” Rick’s voice floated in from the balcony.

My pulse kicked up a notch, and I smiled softly. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make my heart turn over. Rick Craig was my perfect match, my other half. “In the kitchen,” I called back.

“Bring a couple more beers when you come out here, will you?”

“Sure, baby.”

Eager to shake off the tension of the day I grabbed a bottle of white wine and a couple of beers from the fridge. Bottle opener and wineglass in one hand, beers in the other, I headed out to the balcony with full hands.

Three steps from the sliding doors I realized that Rick wasn’t alone outside, and hesitated. It was easy to identify the other voice as Mark Hoffman, Rick’s best friend. I glanced down at the sheer bra and panties barely covering my parts, and a deliciously naughty heat surged through me. It wasn’t like Mark had never seen me in a bikini or something.

“Here you go,” I said as I swept aside the curtain and stepped out onto the balcony. Stopping short I glanced from Rick to Mark, all wide-eyed innocence. “Oh! Hi, Mark.”

“Hey, Angie.” Pure male appreciation was clear in the look he gave me.

“Hey, baby, come here.” Rick held out his hand, a knowing smile curving his lips. Confident in my love, Rick enjoyed watching me flirt with and tease other men almost as much as I enjoyed doing it.

I leaned down and gave him a lingering kiss, fully aware of Mark’s heated gaze on my ass the whole time. Straightening up I handed out the beers before stretching out on the empty lounger in front of their chairs. The heat was killer when covered in clothes and stuck at a desk, air-conditioned office or no, but stretched out with a glass of chilled wine, it was bearable. Almost pleasant. “How long have you boys been out here drinking?”

“’Bout an hour,” Rick answered. “How was work?”

“It sucked. The heat is making people crazy. Janice almost took a swing at a client because he called her sweetheart.”

“Is she?”

Rick snorted at Mark’s question. “Janice is one scary muther. Think tough as Gemma from Sons of Anarchy only ugly and fifty pounds heavier.”

“Hey,” I said as they laughed. “Janice is a sweetheart. You just have to get to know her.”

Rick smirked. “Mark might be looking for a girlfriend, but no matter what you say, Janice is not his type.”

Mark glanced away at that and took a deep pull from the beer in his hand. I raised an eyebrow. To say I was surprised was putting it mildly. Mark had a well-earned reputation as a player. “You’re looking for a girlfriend? Seriously?”

Shaggy blond hair and deep blue eyes made Mark a good looking guy—not to mention tall and ripped with muscles that made grown women drool—but it was his easy confidence and sexual swagger that always got him the girl. Well, almost always. It might’ve been Mark who’d first caught my eye the night I’d met the boys, but it was Rick who’d caught my heart.

“I don’t remember you ever having trouble finding a woman before, Mark. What’s the problem?”

“None of them are you, babe.” Mark’s patented grin flashed, but his gaze held a certain intensity when he looked at me and my breath stuttered. “You broke my heart when you chose Rick over me. And I’m not sure he’s willing to share.”

Warmth that had nothing to do with the sun swept over me, and I swallowed a gasp. The man had just hit on my most secret fantasy, the one that had plagued me since the first night I met the guys. Guilty pleasure had me glancing at Rick only to find him watching us both, a speculative gleam in his dark eyes. “She can be hard to satisfy sometimes.”

“Rick.” Heat crept up my neck.

“Greedy is she?”

My man nodded sagely. “Insatiable even.”

Mark reached down and adjusted himself obviously. “Another guy might come in handy.”

“A relief pitcher…of sorts,” Rick said with a grin that had me wondering what the hell he was up to.

Mark grinned back at him. “Double the dick. Double the pleasure.”

Both men turned to me, and I squirmed. I was totally turned on and a bit embarrassed about it. Bravado was the obvious way to go.

“Well, I do love cock,” I said with false casualness as I lay back and closed my eyes again. “But I doubt even both of you could totally satisfy me.”

“Ohhh.”

“Ouch!”

I ignored their groans of mock pain and pretended there was nothing strange about the conversation, or my laying around in my lingerie, but the tension was building.

One Weekend is a hot, erotic romp from the talented imagination of Sasha White. Ms. White has long been one of my favorite authors, and One Weekend only cements her place on my list of auto-buy authors and “to be kept” shelf.”~ Joyfully Reviewed

HOT HOT HOT! I want more!
Once again Sasha White has hit the mark in her latest release, One Weekend which should be retitled to, One Smoking Hot Weekend Not to Miss!”
~ Cathryn Fox, author of INSTINCTIVE

Look for ONE CHOICE in online bookstores later this month.

Wednesday, July 11th, 2012 by Charlene Teglia
Pros and Cons

 

Continuing Genreality’s theme week discussion of conventions, I’d just like to throw this out there: it is perfectly possible to have a thriving writing career without ever leaving the comfort of your own home, sweatpants and bunny slippers. Being a pro does not mean conference attendance is automatically required. Nobody has ever come to take away my SFWA membership for not attending WorldCon, I didn’t lose my RT award for staying home from the Romantic Times convention, and NINC really didn’t miss me in Florida. Don’t get me started on the way people start talking about their clothes/hair/makeup for RWA’s national conference months in advance. (Didn’t anybody but me get into this writing gig in order to ditch the suits/heels/makeup routine?)

 

Writing conferences are opportunities to network and gain important face time, sure. They’re opportunities to see friends and people you work with from afar, to interact with and meet fans and booksellers and librarians, and yes, a pitch to an editor or an agent at a conference could lead to a new contract. They’re also very expensive. I’ve yet to price a major writing conference where attendance wasn’t going to cost around $2K between travel, hotel, food, conference fees and misc. Given the average writer’s income, that is a very significant expenditure and it doesn’t hurt to ask if it’s really warranted or if that money is better spent on promotion or a new laptop.

 

If conference attendance really is important to you, your budget, and your career stage, an alternative to the mass-attended national conference lies in the often more affordable, and due to the small size, more network friendly, regional conference. RWA has these in plenty, and SF regional cons also abound. For mystery writers, check out Sisters in Crime for conference opportunities galore. Pick a genre and there’s bound to be a local or regional conference near you.

 

But keep in mind that you can network online, you can attend writing classes online, you can order recordings from RWA’s national sessions from the comfort of your own home, sweatpants and bunny slippers. The digital age means that staying connected and current has never been easier; I often learn about publishing and genre-specific news and opportunities on Twitter long before they’re reported in any of my professional publications. It’s also much easier to lurk in an agent or editor’s Tweet stream to find out what kind of person they are than to fork over the price of an airline ticket to get an in-person pitch appointment.

Tuesday, May 8th, 2012 by J.A. Pitts
If it’s Tuesday, this must be a blog post.

 

Blogs are a funny thing.  I feel like they’ve completely replaced the Dear Diary of generations gone by. Pretty much anyone over the age of has a blog of some sort, where they post their daily rambling about school, food, sports, sex, relationships, politics, religion, books, movies, music, cars, war, peace, rallies, government and business.  The list is really only limited to the imaginations of the blogger in question.

And sometimes, only that blogger has any idea what the hell they’re talking about.  I’ve read blogs that needed a secret decoder ring to understand the hidden meaning buried in the page after page of rambling text.  I’ve frequented blogs that are as short as a sentence per post and the meaning was much deeper than other who write volumes.

Blogging is an individual sport that, like most things, is completely and utterly a matter of taste.

My buddy Jay Lake can blog three thousand words a day on top of writing another twenty-five hundred words of prose, plus his regular email, day jobbery, etc.

I struggle to blog, frankly.  I’m an introvert who suffers from the notion that my daily goings on are probably too boring to be foisted upon the reading public.  I do blog, just infrequently and with great purpose.  I have to be moved by a topic on most cases, or I find myself bored with posting.

Funny thing is, when I’m guest blogging that totally flips for me.  I love guest blogging.  I feel like I’m funnier, more salient and generally enjoy the experience.  I have deadlines, I know when I’m supposed to write something and frequently I’ll have a topic or theme to work with.  This makes it oh, so much easier for me to blog.

On my own blog, I’m in charge of the content, I’m in charge of the deadline, and without that external driver, I just don’t blog frequently.  I’d love to have the drive of John Scalzi or Elizabeth Bear.  I’d love to be as funny as Jim Hines or gee whiz informational as IO9 or Boing Boing.

I’m a fiction writer.  I spend my days in the soup of story and character.  I think about Norse gods and giants, black smiths and social ramifications of killing dragons in a modern world.  Thinking about something to post on my blog rarely surfaces through the layer upon layer of story I carry around in my head.  So, thankfully, there are awesome blogs like Genreality, Tor.com, Grasping for the Wind, SF Signal, SFFWorld, Ranting Dragon, the Skiffy and Fanty Show (also a podcast) and a whole host of book bloggers, science bloggers, culture warriors, political wonks and generalists to keep me and the world entertained and informed.  Unfortunately they could also take every ounce of free time I have and keep me fascinated and engaged — but not writing.  I have to strike a balance between curiosity and obsession.

But the fiction comes first after the day job, the family and a modicum of sleep. Blogging is a lower priority for me, but once I’ve done it, I’m always relieved.  It’s a great feeling expressing oneself publicly. I just need to make sure my fly is buttoned and I have my sunscreen on before stepping into the limelight.



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