My next erotica collection Filthy Housewives ($3.89) is an anthology of seven written-to-order stories, and all profits are split with the authors; we all put tons of love into it, and I’m thrilled with every inch of it.
Amazon made the book available for pre-order yesterday — it’s a 100% indie production! My former publisher Cleis Press sold their back catalog (books belonging to me and some of the authors in Filthy Housewives) without telling any of us, and did some really bad things to us before the sale to try and get us to give up more of our digital rights. My last book with Cleis is Best Women’s Erotica 2015 and I have declined their request to do Best Women’s Erotica 2016. This new book, Filthy Housewives, is the beginning of a new direction for those of us who were deceived (and in the end, bullied and threatened) by the former owners of Cleis Press, and it’s a positive, celebratory way for us authors and editors to start a new chapter. Needless to say, I’m honored to be working with, and for these amazing authors, who are true artists that deserve respect, creative freedom, and no-bullshit compensation for their art.
There’s a way you can help support our efforts and get a free copy of Filthy Housewives before it’s available to the public: I’ll trade 10 Amazon reviewers a .pdf copy of the book for an honest review on its Kindle page. Just email me, it’s that easy! Then, write a review of any length within a week — before the book goes on sale November 14th.
Send your email to violet at tinynibbles dot com and I’ll get your copy to you quicker than you can say ‘yay indies’!
So you can see what Filthy Housewives is all about, the introduction is below. As you’ll see, it’s a lot more than your usual erotica collection. I hope you like what we’ve been cooking up!
INTRODUCTION: Modern Wifecraft
After over a decade of editing erotic anthologies, publishing literally hundreds of writers, and more submissions than I dare recount, you might say that I’m a bit picky when it comes to erotica.
Truthfully, I’m a lot picky. Which is why, after ending my ten-year run editing the prestigious (and award-snatching) series Best Women’s Erotica, I wanted to do some very specific things with the erotica collections I’d envisioned and always wanted to make.
Don took me into Kurt’s line, and then he put a packet of mints on the storm-gray conveyor belt. That was all we had. The woman in front of us paid for her groceries—what a lot of cat food she had—and Don smiled at Kurt as the youth rang up our solitary item.
“Can you take a break?” Don asked.
There was nobody behind us. The other checkers seemed to have the traffic flow under control.
“Sure, Sir. Did you…” he looked at the small container of mints. “Did you need help with your groceries?” He asked this with a straight face.
Don laughed. “No, of course not. I need to teach my wife a lesson, and I’d like your help.” Kurt’s gaze flickered over me. I’d had a day already, and it was only eleven in the morning. I wondered what I looked like. Could he tell I’d already been paddled in front of my boss? Could he guess that my ass was throbbing under my clothes? Could he smell that I was so turned on I could have lit someone’s cigarette just by blowing on it?
Kurt turned off the number on his check stand and went over to the manager’s office at the rear of the store.
–Alison Tyler, “Out Of Luck”
Those things are all in Filthy Housewives. The list begins with my desire to handpick writers: the best of today’s erotic authors, focused on areas in which they excel. Authors who are hungry for making a story compelling, imbued with the values savvy erotica readers demand to craft sex-positive, consent- conscious, intense sexual fantasies with characters that make sense, and worlds that wholly lack the sexist trappings of erotic smut that we usually turn to for wilder fantasies.
Next, I wanted to assemble highly literary smutfests on specific topics, ones that address a central turn-on. Like the deviant, crafty modern wife. What happens when we introduce her to the usual wife-themed fantasies? Well, she gets what she wants—and sometimes what she deserves, in the best of ways. And so do we.
“Marcus,” I called down the stairs. “Can you help me out up here?”
“I thought you had Thad,” my husband called back after a moment. I could hear the sound of jazz playing.
I motioned for Thad to come closer to me. I slid one hand into his pants and started to touch his cock. “I do have Thad,” I yelled back. “I have his big hard cock in my hand.”
There was a blast of happy notes as a horn player took a solo. I waited and then called down. “When he’s done fucking me, he’s going to fuck you.”
The music abruptly went off.
I heard footsteps on the stairs. I hurried to push Thad down on the bed. Marcus moved faster than I expected. He was suddenly there, right by the bed, as I shifted aside my copper-colored panties and began to lower myself on Thad’s glorious dick.
“What… what’s going on?” Marcus asked.
I pushed my hips up and then slid down Thad’s pole. “I’m fucking Thad,” I said.
–Ameilia Monroe, “The Professor’s Wife”
[SATISFY your CURIOSITY and CONTINUE READING…]