Shit! I won something

Well, sort of. I came in third. Ages ago, I submitted a story to Cleansheets.com for their Sex and Spirituality Contest. Actually, I completely forgot about it. Certainly no one told me I'd won anything. So it came as a bit of a surprise when a writer friend told me that I'd won third-place, tied, in the contest. It was sort of a let down, because I didn't actually find out till after the time it is proper to celebrate. Anyway, I did. I won something. Woopie.

Like a good mystery?

How about a rather sexy occult thriller? And how would you like to read it for absolutely free? The author Cliff Burns has his latest novel posted in PDF format on his site, for download. Here's the blurb: So Dark the Night is, by turns, funny, sexy, terrifying. It is an homage to cult film, TV and books, a bizarre fusion of Raymond Chandler, H.P. Lovecraft and Val Lewton. I'm about 20 pages into it. The writing is excellent, addictive. Please drop by his site and give it a gander. Beautiful Desolations: So Dark the Night by Cliff Burns

A bit of Light Classics

ERWA's theme this month is going to be Religion and Mythology. Having sort of exhausted my reservoir of Catholicism and feeling a little fed-up with my own seriousness, I thought I'd offer up this. The Other Side Before Lucrezia Borgia died, she made sure to have a priest at the ready. It was her eighth child and she was pretty sure she wasn't going to make it through this one. Having committed more sins than she could remember, including murder, incest and, well - too many to remember, actually - she thought it wise to make a full confession and prepare her soul to meet its maker. Read: The Other Side

The re-write

Yup, this is probably going to ruffle a few feathers. But "The Splinter" is very important to me. One, because it is probably the most literary thing I've every written. I didn't just vomit all over the page and squeal: Aw! Purty! Two, because the questions that come up in The Splinter have been haunting me for a long time. No, I'm not anything like Moira, or Simon, or Jacob. But the idea that different people find a way through their existential angst in myriad ways. I chose Catholicism because it's a way I know well. I'm not Catholic, but I do know quite a bit about it, both historically, and in terms of doctrine. Three, I didn't want to force this into being erotica if that's not the way the story wanted to go. I found myself drifting into lovely, comfy sex, because it was easy to do it, and I'm so used to doing it. I had to pull myself back from that and do a lot of re-writing. It still has sex in it. I don't know whether it's erotic now. It is to me, but hey, I'm weird. It's finished, although I still need to do a lot of polishing. I thought I'd post it in its entirety for those of you who want to bother. For those of you who have read the first two parts in draft, but don't want to read them again, you probably need to start at Part 3

The Splinter (continued)

Here is the continuation of The Splinter. If you've just arrived, you should read Part 1 & Part 2, or this won't make any sense at all. For continuing readers, here is Part 3. I hope you enjoy it. Hugs, rg

New Writing

I know it's been an awful long time since I posted anything here. I am writing a lot, but not erotica. I'm trying to finish my Masters and it seems that doing both at once is almost impossible. Still, I had some incentive in recent days, as I'm in the homestretch and have to focus on producing a writing portfolio. So this is the first fiction I've produced in a long while. This story deals with something that has long intrigued me: the relationship between conservative Catholicism and what some people would label "aberrant" sexuality. (No, it's not about priests and little boys). I'm personally not religious at all, which is probably why faith, in others, fascinates me. The Splinter - Part 1 Moira Tierney idly touched the small, hard ridge of skin that was the only blemish on her smooth, tanned chest. It was just above and a little to the left of her right breast. Inside the small pocket of scar tissue was a splinter of wood. At first, there had been some concern about infection, but the wound had healed over quickly and completely. Her doctor had told her that, sooner or later, the little piece of foreign matter would work itself out on its own. It never had. As time went on, any question of having it removed faded from her mind. Past a loveless marriage and three different career moves, through baptisms and confirmations, weddings and funerals, through ten years of grinding boredom as a decent and valued member of her community, that tiny scar served as a reminder. Once, a decade ago, something extraordinary had happened to Moira Tierney. Read The Splinter - Part 1