by chelsea g. summers I see slut people. They’re everywhere. It’s hard to not see the sluts. They’re all over college campuses, walking to class, carrying their books in backpacks and in briefcases. They’re hailing cabs in their skirts and their shoes,… Continue reading…
(sculpture by Rune Olsen) by Remittance Girl ~ In the recent move by PayPal to force eBook sellers to purge their virtual shelves of ‘bestiality’, a strange and oft-derided area of erotica (were-romances where characters have sex in their ‘beast’… Continue reading…
This is why the decision by PayPal to create a business practice that essentially amounts to censorship has us so up in arms. Here at Eros, we’re fucking proud to offer the best in erotic ebooks — and the widest range of topics, kinks and predilections. We don’t censor your content based on anything. We never will. And we don’t want someone else to try and force our hand. Or yours.
As much as I believe I should have the right to write and sell anything that anyone else will buy, I also strongly respect the right of any reader to draw a line that they don’t wish to cross in their reading experience. What I will not accept is any person moving that line for anyone else. No one should be permitted to force someone to read what they find offensive, but they shouldn’t be able to prevent anyone else from reading that same material just because they don’t like it.
[In which our heroine introduces herself to the crowd, reveals her super-secret identity, and gets ready to embark on her first adventure] First, you should know what I look like. I look like everygirl. That is my super-secret identity. I… Continue reading…
Have you ever been sitting in church, synagogue, or temple and gotten just a bit aroused? Maybe it made you feel a little naughty, so you kept all of those erotic thoughts to yourself.
Erotic fiction is an invitation to a sensory experience for the reader, and all intense sensory experience is based on contrast. Cold, slippery polished metal is worlds away from the pliant, pebbled texture of chilled skin. The sound of the human breath is all the more entrancing and organic for its contrast to the hum and whine of traffic on the street. The scent of sweat on skin is so much more complex and dense than the sharp simple smell of a freshly opened lemon.
Twilight is, in my thinking, a parable for growing up Mormon in an increasingly secular society. BS has her nose pressed up against a world where lipstick parties are a legitimate fantasy/nightmare, and in this world where need becomes deed with the speed of a text, BS can’t contain her desire; fortunately, her undead boyfriend does it for her.
