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Sexy Saturday Round Up

4 May

Sexy Saturday Round UpBy Elizabeth Shore

The weekend’s here! A time of binge watching, binge eating, garden puttering, and just about anything else fun you want to jam into these next two days. Certainly the fun should include catching up on our weekly round-up of good reading. So kick back, grab a snack, and enjoy.

Ready to give up on men but don’t know how to replace them? How about with some good ol fish sex.

The Stormy Daniels/Roseanne Barr smackdown! Strap yourself in.

18 movies to watch over and over and over….for the sex scenes.

If you’re feeling a wave of guilt for not wanting to clean your apartment this weekend, here’s why you needn’t have it.

Model Ashley Graham struttin her stuff and looking fabulous in her size-inclusion swimsuit collection.

Publishers Weekly most anticipated spring books are finally coming out. Check out the list of good reads.

DJ Khaled brags that he’s way too awesome to go down on his partner. Why she’s lucky.

Bondage for beginngers.

Is this the end of the road for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition?

Kid as critic on classic children’s literature. Dare you not to smile.






How I Married the Rock Star

1 Dec


By Alexa Day

In 1992, I married a rock star. Did you know?

I’m sure some people thought I was one of his phases. That was a big part of his career, the transition from one part of his identity to another. I’m sure people thought this was like that. Something new for him to try out.

How many times have you heard that one, right? I’ve always wanted to try one.

But this wasn’t like that at all. The man the world knew as a rock star was very different at home. When we were together, we didn’t have to wear the faces we presented to the world outside. We were just … us. Just the two of us, boyfriend and girlfriend, husband and wife, father and mother. Just us.

Our 25-year relationship might be the most vanilla thing he had ever done. But he made it extraordinary.

Fifteen days ago, I married a millionaire. Did you know?

When we started seeing each other, I didn’t know about Reddit, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t follow tennis. I wasn’t so sure about him at first. We spent a lot of time together, just hanging out. Six hours wandering around Paris. The rest grew out of that.

I wore three dresses at the wedding, starting off with a beautiful ball gown. It came with a cape. The sort of thing girls dream of wearing. Something that would let them be superheroes and princesses at the same time.

He called me a queen. He said his whole life had led him to me.

In the end, we were swept away on carousel horses.

Next spring, I’m going to marry a prince. Did you know?

How do you meet a prince? Through a well-connected friend. The same way lots of women meet princes. The same way they meet us, if they’re lucky.

His family doesn’t do things small. Spectacle might well be a shared middle name. But he and his brother know that all the opulence in the world can’t save a failing marriage, and the two of them know what makes a relationship work. More importantly, they care about what makes a relationship work. We were actually making dinner when he proposed. The prince and I. Making dinner.

The wedding’s going to be enormous. A word can’t capture how enormous it’s going to be.

After that, though, I think we go right back to being a couple living in the public eye, using the attention to do good for others, and enjoying dinners at home.

I remember the first time I heard I wasn’t beautiful.

I remember the first time someone let me know I wasn’t special.

I remember the first time I was told I’d never get married unless I shrank some part of myself and made myself small. I was too much. Too smart. Too talented. Too plain-spoken. Who would want that, after all? Who did I think I was?

I’m not the only one. You have friends — a lot of friends, I promise — who had exactly the same experience. If you’re good friends, she might tell you who let her in on these essential truths. She might tell you who made sure she knew she was so undesirable. She might not tell you. She might not ever tell anyone because she still feels a little silly for thinking she was beautiful and smart and capable and good enough and wonderful, just as she was.

The truth became a pericardium of stone. Protective at first for a little girl, or so everyone says when they realize there isn’t really an excuse for telling a little girl she isn’t beautiful. No one says that the stony wall will stifle a woman’s heart as she grows and the barrier doesn’t. That kind of a warning might lead her to think that the wall is unnecessary, and that really would be a problem. She has to live with the truth of her smallness and inadequacy, the reality that she is not beautiful, in a world wallpapered with cartoons that depict her as a man or an ape wearing a dress, where the only literature about her glorifies her for the depth and nobility of her endless suffering.

We’re not supposed to marry rock stars and millionaires.

We’re not supposed to wear glittering ball gowns with bejeweled capes.

We are certainly not supposed to face all the ways our lives will change when we join a royal family.

We’re supposed to live with the truth. Someone told us so, and they wouldn’t have sealed our hearts up with words like “not beautiful” and “not special” and “who do you think you are” if there were no truth to these words.

So it matters when someone tells any one of us that love is very different from the tomb we are taught it is.

It matters when he makes his way under or around or through the wall, like it doesn’t exist. It matters when he shows us a way under or around or through the wall.

It matters when he says, “Of course you’re beautiful! Who said that foolishness?!”

Or when he says he couldn’t sleep before your first date, like the rock star did.

Or when he says your life together is a fairy tale, like the millionaire did.

Or when he says he knew you were his match immediately upon being introduced, like the prince did.

When something like that happens to one of us, or three of us, or more of us, it happens to all of us, just like it’s happened to me.

So we all married the rock star and the millionaire, and next May, our family trees will reach up from slavery into the British royal family.

Maybe it shouldn’t be amazing, but it is.

So enjoy the spotlight. Revel in the magic.

And don’t forget to bring a little girl with you.

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Alexa Day is the USA Today bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with heroines who are anything but innocent. In her fictional worlds, strong, smart women discover excitement, adventure, and exceptional sex. A former bartender, one-time newspaper reporter, and licensed attorney, she likes her stories with just a touch of the inappropriate, and her literary mission is to stimulate the intellect and libido of her readers.


Running Full Tilt Into the End of 2017

20 Nov

by Kiersten Hallie Krum

Early last week, after about seven months of searching, first for a house, then for an apartment that would take me and my fur babies, I finally found a new home for all of us–that I will move into in around a month’s time. This means I have about six weeks (if I’m super lucky) to pack up the place where I’ve lived for the last nine years and move (in-state) to the place I’ll likely be in for at least the next seven or eight years to start.

Yep, I’m running full tilt right into the end of 2017. Full steam ahead. Phasers on stun. No rest for the wicked. Power on through. Every weekend from here on in is a packing weekend (with the exception of Thanksgiving day, of course). A drawn-out, slow trip down a sometimes painful, bittersweet memory lane.

It’s be a lousy year, Lady Smutters. Politically for all of us, and personally for me as it kicked off with the death of my mother in January. Don’t get me wrong, there has been a lot of good among the bad–first trip to Florida, new book released, award win for debut novel–but I’m sure ready to kick the holy hell outta this year and plunge into the next, hopefully better one soon as the ticking clock can get me there.

New Year. New Home. Nothing but good times ahead.

There’s been a lot of news lately about the sexual exploitation and harassment of women and, God save us, children by men in political and professional power. News that makes my stomach curdle and my soul ache. Many of the responses have been equally repellent as the women making these accusations have found their lives and their credibility shredded and shamed on the public altar of social media and media in general. I have a lot of thoughts about all of this, thoughts and feelings that are still processing only to be newly outraged with each new announcement of horror and violation. Each squirrely, slimy justification made for the unforgivable abuses these men have committed.

But it’s the woman who are shamed.

It’s mind boggling.

I wrote a post some time ago about our culture of shame. of how people are publicly shamed almost before the full story has been realized, a shame that can follow people for years and even drive some to suicide out of unbearable shame.

More than ever, public accountability is key to keeping TPTB, well, accountable. Yet in a world rife with cyber bullying to the extent that people have committed suicide because the feel their lives have become unbearable as a result of being bullied, the culture of shame has almost become a spectator sport. Where do we draw the line between holding entities accountable for ofttimes severely shitty behavior and effectively flogging them in effigy in cyberspace?


Happy Thanksgiving, Lady Smutters. Thank you for being such an integral part of what we do here. Hug your loved ones, drink some wine, eat too much pie, and be grateful for all the good you generate in each other’s lives.

If you’d like to read about women without shame and the SEAL heroes who fight to win them, be sure to check out my award-winning debut novel Wild on the Rocks and its follow-up, SEALed With A Twist, both available exclusively from Kindle.


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Kiersten Hallie Krum writes smart, sharp, and sexy romantic suspense. She is the award-winning author of Wild on the Rocks, and its follow-up, SEALed With a Twist. She is also a past winner of the Emily Award for unpublished novels.

A member of the Romance Writers of America, the New Jersey Romance Writers, and the Long Island Romance Writers, Kiersten has been working in book publishing for more than twenty years in marketing and promotion. At other times in her career, she’s worked back stage for a regional theater, managed advertorials for a commerce newspaper in the World Trade Center, and served as senior editor for a pharmaceutical advertising agency.

Writer, singer, editor, traveler, tequila drinker, and cat herder, Kiersten avoids pen names since keeping her multiple personalities straight is hard enough work. Born and bred in New Jersey (and accent free), Kiersten sings as easily, and as frequently, as she breathes, drives fast with the windows down and the music up, likes to randomly switch accents for kicks and giggles, and would be happy to spend all her money traveling for the rest of her life.

Five feminist moments from Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 3

17 Nov

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Last night the most magical time in my life as an erotica editor happened: I received a box of my latest anthology, Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 3. The official print pub date isn’t until December 12, but I order my copies directly from the printer so I can get them as fast as possible. At a time when nearly every day we are hearing accusations of sexual misconduct, abuse or assault by predatory men misusing their power such as Harvey Weinstein and Louis C.K., I’m extremely proud to have my name on a book of sexy, powerful, female-driven stories by 21 women authors from around the world.

best women's erotica

Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 3

Though I don’t have a book fetish like the protagonist of “Bibliophile” by Dee Blake, one of those 21 tales, as I paged through one of these beautiful, sexy books, I was enamored and excited. [And by “sexy book,” I don’t just mean what’s inside; there’s something deeply sexy to me about touching a book’s glossy cover, about seeing pristine, hot-off-the-press pages, about admiring the design and care that went into it.] I was also thinking about feminism, and some of the standout feminist moments I’ve found between its pages. While this isn’t marketed as a book of “feminist erotica” and I can’t claim it is one because I don’t know if that’s how the authors would describe their stories, there are some timely and some timeless elements to these tales that I think will appeal to anyone looking for erotica that doesn’t speak down to women, but builds them up. Just as I believe sexual knowledge is power, I also believe that having women see their true desires reflected in erotica is also important. For me, this means that while characters can of course question themselves, their fantasies, and their bodies, they also talk back to a culture that does plenty of questioning, blaming and shaming.

In some cases, this means defying the need to categorize us as straight or gay; it could mean engaging in polyamory or other forms of non-monogamy; in others, it means defying the still-prevalent cultural taboo against mixing sex and money. While I intend my books to be erotic entertainment first and foremost, and selected the stories I think will make the hottest anthology possible, what I see when I read these tales are stories that respect women and our ability to make our own sexual choices. A year from now, Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 4, will have a theme of outsiders and risk, chosen directly because of the election of Donald Trump and my desire to capture diverse, multicultural erotica.

But right now, Volume 3 is here and while, as I said, I can’t speak for the authors as to whether they intended these tales to be “feminist erotica,” nor can I get in the minds of readers as to whether they’ll agree with my assessment, I read these as powerful feminist moments in a book already packed with bold, smart women who go after what they want regardless of what society tells them they “should” want.

1.The naked woman showing off for another woman in a Pussy Grabs Back t-shirt during a sexy photo shoot

In “Watch Me Come Undone,” August McLaughlin’s protagonist Belle recounts a life-changing photo shoot that gives her a lot more than she bargained for. One aspect I especially liked is that she weaved in the power of being an exhibitionist with Belle’s bisexual desires in a seamless way. Here she also gives a nod to the fact that while women don’t want our pussies grabbed without our consent, we are still deeply sexual beings. The key difference is that we get to decide. Here’s part of how that plays out (there’s much more after this initial encounter):

I placed my other hand in my pants, pressing a finger between my dripping, swollen lips. As I added my drenched digits to my mouth, tasting my wetness, I swore I heard Jayden stifle a moan. How hard he must be. How hungry.

Outside the window, I glimpsed a woman walking by. She was dressed casually, in jeans and a PUSSY GRABS BACK tee. The irony. She did a double take, then paused. I looked her in the eyes, encouraging her to keep watching, continuing to suck my fingers on one hand and moving the other to my protruding breasts.

sexy photo shoot erotica

From “Watching Me Come Undone” by August McLaughlin in BWE of the Year 3

2. Becoming a drag king

What drew me to “Romance and Drag” by Lyla Sage was how it utterly upends the concept of gender roles. Both main characters play with gender and, through that process, get to reclaim aspects of themselves that the culture around them had told them were incorrect or problematic. As Max Notorious, our narrator gets to live out a side of herself that fulfills here. Here’s a little more on her introduction to drag:

Ever since a former fling took me to a drag king show years ago, I’ve been mesmerized by male drag. I’d heard of drag queens before, and I’d seen some actresses and female models dress up as guys in magazine layouts, but this show was a different kind of animal altogether. These kinds served up the entire male illusion, down to the chest hairs and the bulges in their pants.

Coincidentally, when I started doing drag, I realized that I was attracted to women in addition to men. I hooked up with girls who swooned over my boy look. And I knew I was doing drag right when some men mistook me for one of their own. The bi guys in particular were intrigued by me, intrigued that I was the best of both worlds: I looked masculine enough to fulfill their male-loving side, but I also had a vagina for them to fulfill their love of women.

3. Roleplaying as a cheerleader

Kim and Jody, the lesbian couple in “After the Heist” by Aya de Leon (who can also be found in her Justice Hustlers #1 novel Uptown Thief), are thieves by profession. On their own time, they entertain each other and part of that involves roleplaying in a way that defies our cultural stereotypes of cheerleaders as straight girls. We learn later in the story that Jody’s family “had wanted her to be a cheerleader, but she wanted to date one.” Together, they queer this common image and turn it on its head.

In the center of the bed, Kim wore a yellow and green cheerleading uniform. She was posed in a half split, with pom-poms in the air.

“Go Jody! Go Jody!” she cheered.

Jody chuckled and blushed a little. “Oh goodie,” she said. “We’re playing the girl soccer star and the cheerleader.”

“You did great out there tonight,” Kim said. “I thought you deserved some appreciation on the home field.” Kim did a series of high kicks that revealed that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Jody grinned and walked slowly over to the bed, letting her towel drop. She lay down below Kim.

“Gimme a J!” Kim said.

J,” Jody said.

Kim planted her feet on either side of Jody’s head and spelled out her name, while shaking her hips from side to side.

Jody grinned from beneath her. “I’m loving this half-time show,” she said.

4. Hiring a male sex worker

In making it “Making It Feel Right” by Annabel Joseph, Myra hires a man to dominate her. This act alone is something we’re not used to hearing about from women. But where things get really interesting is that he doesn’t simply arrive and perform his job in a rote way. He listens to her, and in turn, gives her space to discover an aspect of her kinky impulses and desire to dominate (without necessarily being a Domme) that she hadn’t considered before. What I particularly loved about this story is that Myra gets to discover what she truly wants at this specific moment, without labels, without pressure. That her hired guy, Daniel, makes that happen for her in a delicious way is icing on the cake.

Personally, I sometimes think there’s pressure on women to always know exactly what we want in the bedroom and if we don’t, it can feel like we’ve somehow failed to live up to a different kind of cultural ideal: the strong woman. But questioning who we may have thought we were can lead us into sexual pleasures we could never have imagined. Here’s what happens when he asks her why she wants to dominate him:

“I don’t know. I think it’s because you’re so strong and beautiful, and I want to be in control of . . . of . . . ” She waved her arms, delineating all of him, broad shoulders to manly feet. “Of all this strength and beauty, just for a while. The thing is, I don’t know how to do it.”

He refuted that statement with a tilt of his head. “I think you know. You’ve already imagined what you want, so make it happen. You’re paying for me. Use me.”

Use me. Why did those words give her such a thrill? Because you’re not submissive, sweetie, and apparently never have been.

5. Claiming a fetish after childhood abuse

In “Infused Leather” by Dr. J., Angie and Hal bond over a mutual fetish for leather, but their interest goes much deeper than simply the feel of the sensual material. For Angie, as she explains to Hal, after surviving abuse at the hands of her uncle, “When I take control, I win.” Together, the pair use their fetish to transcend their painful past. Writing about a heavy topic like sexual abuse and still crafting an erotic, arousing story is no easy feat, but Dr. J. does it marvelously. Here’s how they decide to take their relationship to a new level after a shoe-shine event:

“Hmph, we’re a pair.”

“Yeah, confirmed little leather freaks.”

For a long moment, we held each other’s gaze, locked in our own space, transported away from everything around us.


“Yeah, Hal?”

“You want to take it another step?”

“What do you have in mind?”



“Yeah, let’s put pleasure into something that hurt us in the past.”


“In any way it feels right, like how we just marked our leather for each other when we shoe shined.”

“Do you think it will help us?”

“I can hope, Ang.”

And that’s how our leather sex began.

You may find other moments in the book that strike you as feminist, or you may find none. What I can promise  you is that all of these stories sizzle with sexual tension, heat and realistic desires, whether the women involved are fulfilling outrageous sexual fantasies or falling in love.

Order Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 3 for Kindle, Nook, Google Play, iBooks or Kobo, or in print from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Powells or find it at your local independent bookstore via IndieBound. For international orders, click here.


Rachel Kramer Bussel ( has edited over 60 anthologies, including Best Women’s Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 and 2, Come Again: Sex Toy Erotica, Begging for It, Fast Girls, The Big Book of Orgasms and more. She writes widely about sex, dating, books and pop culture and teaches erotica writing classes around the country and online. Follow her @raquelita on Twitter and find out more about her classes and consulting at You can follow Rachel on BookBub to get notified about new releases and ebook sales.

You Had Me At ‘Psycho-Sexual Unravelling’ RAW: Feminist Horror Movie

10 Oct

by Madeline Iva

There’s nothing like a good feminist horror movie to get you in the mood for Halloween.  And such is our society that for the first thirty minutes of Julie Ducournau’s feminist allegorical film RAW, she doesn’t even have to go out of her way to create horror–she just turns the camera on all the normal, yet utter bullls**t young women typically go through in the world, simply by virtue of being young women.


A young woman named Justine (get it? JUSTine?) leaves her vegetarian parents to go off to medical college and become a vet.  She goes through an initiation everyone must go through, in which she’s covered in blood and made to eat raw meat (she’s a vegetarian too.) But the initiation goes on for weeks–that’s just the beginning of it all.

Are you getting the sense of moral violation on this still shot? Good.

La-la-la! You know, for the first half hour she goes through horrible stuff.  The whole point of these initiation rituals is a kind of semi-compulsive, semi-voluntarily trial of humiliation and degradation. Justine tries to get through it all while she’s being pushed and pummeled on all sides (literally, at one point, when she’s at a party.)

As we move through this set up the first scene of actual horror comes.  She’s been accused of cheating because she and another student (who is also her roommate) have the same answers on a test. Clearly he copied from her, but the professor wants her to confess SHE cheated because she’s a smarty-pants know it all, and it’s clear that this man just enjoys bashing bright, young women.  Afterwards, there’s a scene that’s analogous to purging.  But make no mistake–this is not a film about eating disorders. It’s allegorical. It’s about the f**ked-upness of our world.  First of all  it’s not food she’s purging. (No spoilers here!)  Second of all, when Justine emerges from the toilet cubical having purged, the response of another young woman at the sink is this: “It’s easier if you stick two fingers down your throat.” Thus invoking a kind of sisterhood of eating disorders! Yes, that’s messed up—and THAT’s what the entire film is like.  The horror of how twisted real life is with the volume dial turned up a little higher and then a little higher still.

The next special moment of horror in the film devoted to Brazilian waxing.

Let me pause here: imagine a movie in which women are tortured by having patches of hair ripped from the most private part of their body–and somewhat to the detriment of our own health (we’re talking micro tears of the va-jay-jay that lead to an increase in infections, etc.) —that’s a pure horror movie concept right there.

But wait! In this horror movie — the tortured women are somehow convinced to volunteer for this torture again and again. Moreover, to crank the horror up another notch–they start putting pressure on their friends and daughters to torture themselves the same way.  It’s eventually revealed to the audience that the evil people who started this whole thing have actually gotten the women to pay for their own torture.  The final scene answer the question of why would women ever do this to themselves in this way is that they’ve somehow they’ve been convinced in some nebulous, undefined way that men like it—men like women to be smooth down there like little pre-pubescent girls–as if all the men were pedophiles or something. (Insert scream of terror.)

I mean, — why hasn’t someone made a horror movie yet about popular grooming trends in modern life?????


Watching the film, I start to get the idea we’re witnessnessing a “pyscho-sexual” unraveling.


Like in BLACK SWAN.(Why have I never done a blog post on Black Swan?) Like in that classic French film REPULSION. (So good!)

The truth about sexual bullying in college is revealed here clear as a bell.  There’s one of those variants of college heteronormative, de-virginizing activities–certainly familiar to all U.S. college students as well–where two people are basically told “You git on in there and boink or else.”

sex with strangers

The pressure to loose your virginity to a stranger in college — it’s own unique horror.

The situation with the Justine’s gay roommate/study mate is also interesting – REALLY interesting. Like there’s so much I want to say but it’d be spoilers left and right. So I won’t.

Except…He’s hot. She likes him, and at one point –

Ah! I can’t go any further…you’ll have to watch the film yourself.

I will say this:

It’s fascinating, and I also, since I’m writing this blog post as I’m watching it—I’ll confess I have no idea where it’s going.


There’s a clear indication that the movie is allegorical. It’s not about vegetarianism at all. It’s really saying something about the initiation of young women into the world.  About the swift egregious violations of one’s own moral code just to get along.  And then what? How can you use your own moral compass when you’ve already been compelled by social pressures to smash it?

Raw, feminist horror film

Hate to break it to you, but this film is NOT about vegetarianism…

The movie definitely points out how those who are oppressed in turn victimize and oppress others.

Yeah, it’s like that. Justine turns upon someone weaker than her –and wants to inflict damage. Not only does she want to do that–she also instinctively blames the weaker person for the violation. Towards the end of the film, Justine yells at a victim in remorse: “How come you didn’t fight back? You should have hit me!”

If I had to guess, I’d say this movie is about how societal institutions (like a competitive college for vets) bully and harass us into becoming aggressive, compulsive consumers (in this case of flesh). The only other choice in this false dichotomy, is to become a victim yourself.

What I’m saying, of course, is that the movie is brilliant. It’s on Netflix right now. Perfect Halloween date night horror movie–if you’re a twisted, feminist vegan—like me. ; >

Hey! Check out this HALLOWEEN ROMANCE page on Facebook   Wednesday night, Oct 11th, the page is having an event where we’re watching PRACTICAL MAGIC at 9:30 EST. On Thursday, October 12th, I’ll be doing a take over and hosting some fun posts and giveaways.

And! Don’t forget if you live within reach of Charlottesville, VA I’m going to do a panel and book signing for the QUEENS OF THE DAMNED event at Barnes & Nobel. (See Our FB Event Page and let us know you’re going). It’s on Saturday, October 28th from noon to 3.  Here’s the postcard:


Thanks to women, the horror genre is changing and growing–come to this event and hear more!

Madeline Iva is the twisted sister you always wish you had.  She’s also the author of the fantasy romance Wicked Apprentice.  Check out her other Lady Smut postsJoin her newsletter or follow her on Facebook, twitter, and Pinterest.

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