Tag Archives: excerpt

New Release: Dollymop

51vle-LgzDLI’m going to be upfront here. Even under the best of circumstances, I’m terrible at promotion. It’s ridiculous – sort of like the professional equivalent of my epic inability to accept a compliment. The problem with that is that when I can’t accept a compliment it’s just awkward for me and the lovely person saying nice things. When I fail on the promotion front, it often means that other writers and their very good work go unacknowledged, and that’s not right. Hence this post.

Nearly three years ago, I submitted a story to Rachel Kramer Bussel for an as-of-yet unnamed anthology themed around female fantasies. I remember rifling through a lot of ideas at the time but what I finally wrote surprised me.

“Dollymop” is about a woman who doesn’t fantasize about fun stuff like threesomes or public sex. She fantasizes about loving herself. Or rather, she fantasizes about loving her bony, too-thin body. She gets fitted for a corset unable to imagine how it could work with her tiny breasts and narrow hips. But it does work. It works beautifully. And the experience changes her relationship with her body in a tactile, sexual way.

“Dollymop” is one of the first erotic stories that I wrote from an openly personal perspective. While it is entirely fictional, the protagonist’s struggle with her body image is one that I’ve had for years. And her experience with corsets mirrors how pivotal they were in my own sexual awakening.

There aren’t many editors who would choose to put a story like “Dollymop” into an erotica anthology, which is why I’m grateful to Rachel Kramer Bussel for including it in Begging for It, recently out with Cleis Press. As with all of her anthologies, the stories run from sweet and reflective to joyfully filthy and everything in between. But what they all have in common is a respect for what women, as individuals, want, and that’s something I am incredibly proud to promote.

Excerpt: from “Dollymop”

“So,” Cat said, as they meandered around the showroom. “If you could be anything, what would it be?”

“Beautiful,” Faye blurted out, before covering her mouth with her hands. Cat stopped walking and looked up at her. Even in her platform boots, Cat was half-a-head shorter than Faye.

“You know you are, right?”

Faye shook her head, mortified.

“No…that’s not what I mean.”

Cat looked at her, waiting, giving her space. If this was part of how she sold corsets, Faye thought, she was very good at her job.

“I mean, that I want to feel beautiful. I want to feel sexy. Like…like a woman, I mean. I’m not…look at me. I’ve got no curves.”

To her utter humiliation, Faye felt like she was going to cry. Cat pulled a little square of silk out of her pocket and handed it to her.

“You know, honey, a corset isn’t going to do that.”

Faye’s heart shrank. Seeing the look on her face, Cat went firmly on.

“Let me start again. What I mean is, a corset can give you curves—hell, it can do things to your body that will make you fall in love—but it can’t make you feel beautiful. You’ve got to do that yourself. Right?”

Faye nodded. “Right. I know.”

“But,” Cat went on with a cheeky grin, “I’ve got something that will goddamn help you get there. The Dollymop.”

“The Dollymop?”

“The Dollymop. C’mon. Take a look.”

Buy the Book!

If you’d like to get your hands on a copy, you can find Begging for It HERE.


New Release: LZ

LZ logo Twtr dimentions with title and date

Halloween is the release day for a project that I am both humbled and proud to be part of. Libidinous Zombie (#LZ) is Rose Caraway’s erotic horror anthology. It pushes at boundaries both in writing and in life, and gleefully breaks pretty much every convention in the genre. To quote the blurb:

This book is erotic. This book is horrifying. This book is cunning.
This book is edgy, seductive, violent, fiendish, indecent, and unfair.
This collection is a work of fiction. Consider yourself trigger warned.

Quick Note: Remittance Girl wrote an excellent post explaining what, exactly, a libidinous zombie is. I would recommend reading it – it’s fascinating. It will also allay zombie-oriented fears. There’s only one zombie story in this collection and it’s brilliant (this coming from a woman who got nervous watching Sean of the Dead).

“Alice in the Attic”, the story I wrote for #LZ, has been germinating for twelve years. It started as a sort of dark fairy tale about a little girl who has cobwebs for hair, but it never went anywhere. I wasn’t prepared to take it where it needed to go. Over the years, it went through various iterations, some fay, others less so, but I couldn’t shake the sense that I wasn’t telling the story. Eventually I set it aside.

When Rose Caraway asked me if I wanted to contribute to this collection I thought of “Alice in the Attic” for the first time in years. After simmering for so long, the story felt more substantial. Alice was more than just a fairy tale concept. She was more than a little girl with sentient hair. She was darker, meaner, more raw, filthy, clever, wise and frightening. She had a history. She had suffered. In short, she had grown up. But in order to write the story as it needed to be written I needed to be able to go to places that are not romantic. They aren’t even civilized.

Revenge, injustice, predation, sexual obsession, madness, compulsion, manipulation, death…. All that sexy stuff. I say that somewhat ironically, but I’m actually quite serious. It’s a different kind of erotic, one that happens when civility cracks and biology takes over. It’s not pretty. In fact, it’s fucking filthy. And because it’s fucking filthy, it’s really fucking hot…if that’s your cup of tea.

“Alice in the Attic” is my cup of tea, and it’s an honor to have it in a collection that embraces the wrong, the frightening and the deeply sexual without the boundaries of convention.

I’ve written quite a few pieces that will never see the light of day because there is no place for them in the market, but Rose Caraway deliberately created a context free of the rules that define the genre. This collection makes its own way. It’s uncomfortable and intelligent and incredibly hot. It’s a beautiful fucking monster.

Alice Blk Bkgnd FBFrom “Alice in the Attic”:

Adler froze as her breathing hitched, no longer quiet, but striving and broken by throaty, frustrated moans.

Patient shows signs of nymphomania. Has pronounced tendencies towards sexual self-abuse.

He’d seen those words the day before, written in crabbed, fading ink, but he remembered them like a slap as he felt his body respond. It was only when his cock bulged against his trousers that he realized how compromised he was.

“Alice,” he said, as she writhed in the chair. “Miss Mulgrave? You must stop. You are agitating yourself.”

Dark eyes flew open and locked on his. Adler stepped back, shocked by the look on her face. It was full of rapacious promise, like a wolf scenting prey. But the impression didn’t last. He’d barely absorbed it when it was papered over by a rueful smile. Then she flipped down her skirt and stood to greet him, calm and self-possessed.

“You must be Dr. Adler. Alice has told me about you. I’m Miss Mulgrave.”

Instead of curtseying as Alice had, Miss Mulgrave extended her hand. Adler froze and stared at her fingers, which glistened with the juices of where they had been. Seeing his discomfort, she snatched her hand away.

“Forgive me,” she said. “One forgets.”

Then she slid her fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean, smiling calmly as she did.

Adler swallowed, reacting as much to her calm as to the sight of her working her fingers with brutal, sensual force. When she was finally satisfied, she offered him her hand again. Adler took it gingerly with his.

“Em…yes. I’m Dr. Adler. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mulgrave. Are you prepared for our first session?”

Buy the Book!

LZ Cover Large









Available on Amazon Kindle.

New Release: Bases Loaded

Cover for Bases Loaded: Baseball EroticaA lot of people are surprised to find out that I love baseball. I really do, especially the Giants. As a San Francisco native, I grew up watching Will Clark and Kevin Mitchell while munching hot dogs at Candlestick Park. I still remember freezing in the bleachers in the middle of July when a rookie pitcher named Burkett hit the home run that got us to the playoffs that year.

Baseball is one of those things that feels like home. I don’t know if it’s because my dad coached my brother’s little league team for years (you learn a lot when your dad’s the Coach), but few things feel as simple and good as watching a game. There’s something joyful and intimate about it, even when you’re swearing like a pirate at the screen, (which I kind of do).

Which is why I was excited when the lovely, and incredibly baseball savvy, F. Leonora Solomon asked if I would contribute to a collection of baseball erotica. “Lucky”, is a tribute to my girlfriend’s penchant for athletic superstition and my own competitive streak. I hope it captures the sheer, ridiculous joy of loving your team, wanting them to win and going to any lengths (especially lengths involving team colored glass dildos) to help them pull through.

Bases Loaded: Baseball Erotica is packed with a bunch of other great stories too. I’ve got to say that, as an editor, Ms. Solomon knows her stuff. You can find it and make it your very own by clicking HERE.

And to celebrate opening day for Bases Loaded, here’s an excerpt from “Lucky”. May all your post season dreams come true.

From “Lucky” by Malin James:

Callie’s eyes drop to my face. Now that I’ve got her attention, I slid the hard, glossy dildo into my mouth, sucking it slowly to warm the cool glass up. Then I take it out of my mouth and slide it into her. She sighs and her legs fall open even more. I kiss her calf and the inside of her knee as the bright blue glass disappears into her plump, pink cunt.

Behind me, the announcer starts chattering again, but Callie’s eyes are on me now. I starting working her with Lucky, thrusting in hard and pulling out slow, in long, drawn out strokes as I drag the dildo’s curved glass tip over her g-spot, just the way she likes.

Her hips start rolling, seeking out the glass. I pull Lucky out all the way, and rest the tip on the glistening entrance of her cunt. I watch her thighs tremble. I watch the small, pretty muscles of her pussy spasm, needing something to clench. I love it when her body is hungry like that. I love it when she holds herself still, even though she’s dying to come.

I rest Lucky there, right at her entrance, for what feels like ages. She starts to whimper and seek it out. That’s when I slide it back in, harder and deeper as she grabs at the cushions on either side of the couch.

“Jess, please.”

The please is whispery and pleading. She’s so ready, I can hear it in her voice. It’s like aural ecstasy. My nipples tighten up as I lean in and start to lick her clit, moving the dildo in and out as I do.

Something happens on the screen, but I’m not paying any attention at all. I can just hear the announcer through the pounding in my ears as I lick and gobble her up.

Feel like a little more? Buy Bases Loaded in ebook or paperback at Amazon! And follow the book on Twitter at @BasesLoadedBook for news, updates, excerpts and more.


New Release: The Athletic Aesthetic

Cover for The Athletic Aesthetic. A female gymnast's curved back.

The Athletic Aesthetic, edited by Kojo Black

Sweetmeats Press does literary pornography like few publishers do. They pull inspiration from everywhere and anywhere to produce titles full of filth and utter gorgeousness. So, when Kojo Black asked me if I’d like to contribute to an anthology of sports erotica, I said yes, of course.

Fencing is one of my favorite Olympic sports, possibly because, in an odd way, it reminds me a lot of ballet (I was a dancer into my late teens). It’s a sport the hinges on precision and muscle control. It’s also intensely competitive. Add to all of that the fact that I have an in-house fencing expert, and settling on a sport to write about was pretty easy, especially because fencing requires years of high level training and massive amount of physical, emotional and mental discipline.

So I came up with a training scenario that capitalized on discipline, and I put a woman in the position of training five, top level male athletes. There were so many interesting ways to play with D/s, pain and sexual fluidity that writing “The Master” was it’s own pleasure. Add in a high stakes, competitive environment, contained in an isolated mountain chalet and the story came together in a way that I’m very proud of.

The Athletic Aesthetic is the newest in a long line of beautiful anthologies edited by Kojo Black for Sweetmeats Press. In addition to “The Master” it also features stories from Lisa Fox, Vanessa Wu, Emerald and Lexie Bay and is available in both paperback and ebook form.

And now, just to tempt you, here’s an excerpt from “The Master”. I hope you enjoy.

The cover for The Master by Malin James. Female gymnast's curved back.

The Master, Book 5 of The Athletic Aesthetic by Malin James

From “The Master” by Malin James:

Elle Mason nodded and stepped forward without, strictly speaking, appearing to move. Tom’s awareness shifted, driven by a subtle twist of lust. Unlike Donati, she possessed a stillness that was unsettling in someone so young. Looking at her closely, Tom realized that she couldn’t have been more than twenty-two or twenty-three.

“As Signor Donati implied, this is a rather unorthodox method. The goal is not to teach you technique, but rather to dominate your opponent— physically, mentally and emotionally.”

Bisset nodded knowingly. Tom rolled his eyes. Bisset was good, but he was also wired tight. He could be played, just like anyone else.

“However,” Elle Mason went on, “for all of the benefit, there is a price to pay. You must obey, without question, all instructions that you’re given.”

Tom’s eyes narrowed. It was a subconscious reaction—the word obey had many implications …

“Excuse me,” Tom said, dulling the edge in his voice. “What, exactly, are we consenting to?”

Donati nodded sanguinely.

“An excellent question,” he said, all fatherly sweetness. “Fencing is a sport, yes? If you lose, the only thing hurt is your pride. But it wasn’t always so. This is good for civilization perhaps, but not so for the fencer. Without a sense of immediate consequence, the fencer can lose perspective. Pain, or the threat of pain concentrates the mind. Pain brings with it distraction and anger. By transcending distraction and anger, the fencer attains control. This training method is designed to instill a sense of consequence, while developing the ability transcend it.”

“Yeah,” Tom muttered, “that’s what I thought.”

“Mr. Granger. Something to add?”

Elle Mason was eying him. Her mouth had curved, sharp and cold as the moon. Tom gave her a self-deprecating shrug.

“No, not really. Just sounds like this method pulls from other disciplines.”

“Everything has a source,” she replied.

The Athletic Aesthetic is available at Amazon and Amazon, UK in print and ebook.

Daily Deeper Special: Flash Pop!


It’s no secret that I’m a huge fan of Go Deeper Press. They’re one of the most interesting and challenging publishers of literary porn on the market today. When they put out a call for their new feature – The Deeper Daily, I was quick to send a story over.

“Flash Pop!” is one of those stories that wrote itself. At this point, I’ve pretty much established that my joy is in editing a story, but “Flash Pop!” came out whole and nearly finished on the first draft. I love this little story and was really proud when Lana Fox and Angela Tavares, the brilliant minds behind Go Deeper Press, said they’d like to run it.

It’s over at the Deeper Daily right now, so click HERE to check it out. As with all of the Daily Deeper stories, it’s only up for seven days so catch it while you can!

Here’s a little taste.

Excerpt: Flash Pop!

Deke. Who the fuck has a name like Deke? But it suited him, from the gleam in his devil-dark eyes to his rattlesnake boots. Over the next six months she’d come to appreciate the eyes, the boots and every filthy inch in-between.

One night a week, Debi’s mom watched the kids so she could have “me time”, something she got very little of since her fucker of an ex left her for a stripper like the cliché he was. More than a year later she was still pretty wound up about it. She kind of thought of Deke as therapy.

“Me time”, so far as her mom knew, consisted of Debi going for drinks at the Macaroni Bar with her non-existent girlfriends. “Me Time”, in reality, meant meeting Deke at the Pak ‘n Buy so he could fuck her in his Camaro.

She looked forward to “me time” every week.

Happy Sunday, everyone!