Thursday, 26 December 2013

Erotic stories for 77p only!!!!

For a limited period, you can now buy my erotic story collections for just 77p!!

To celebrate the impending New Year, the following titles are available at this special reduced price:

Crimson Kisses
Second Helpings
Love Bites

And if you fancy sampling some of my quirky, dark (non-erotic) tales my 7 story collection Slow Poison is also just 77p.

Just click the icons in the sidebar to buy!

Saturday, 21 December 2013

Blog post rewind: Re-invention and writing erotica

This post first appeared in January 2013 on

I remember it quite vividly even though it was over thirteen years ago.  The event that launched my career as a writer of erotica.  Bizarre as it sounds, I was peering from the upstairs window of a double decker London bus (I always sit on the upper deck - you can see things from a different angle – one you wouldn’t normally access), commuting from Brixton to Streatham when I noticed a man pissing against a wall, in broad daylight.  That was it.  The Moment.

As the bus trundled onwards at a snail’s pace through the traffic clogged roads, I pondered this image.  It wasn’t sexy in any way.  In fact, it annoyed me that the man was so blatant.  But it gave me the first paragraph of my story.

She was right.  He was urinating against the wall in the alleyway beside the tube station.  Quite blatantly, too.  The question was, what to do about it.  And Kate knew she had to do something.

As a writer, you always think “What if.”  At the time, I had been successfully submitting short stories and articles to a wonderful and now defunct small press magazine called Quality Women’s Fiction.  Payment was nominal, but I didn’t care because the magazine was a labour of love from the brilliant editor Jo Good and she only published really good writers, so whenever I was included as part of this hallowed fold I always got a huge buzz, a kind of validation that I was a proper writer. (Many QWF writers went on to have successful writing careers).  Anyway, the what if became, “What if my female protagonist had an unwanted animal attraction to the man and they ended up having some kind of sexual encounter?” 

“Excuse me.”                                                           
As she spoke, the man glanced over his shoulder at her, not in the least distracted from the task in hand.
“Excuse me,” she repeated.  “I don’t think you should be doing that in a public place.”
“Why not?” was his response.
She was incredulous.
“Why not?  Because you are breaking the law.”
“Show me the sign, then, that says No Pissing.”
For a moment she was taken aback.  The man stared at her, his toffee-brown eyes brazen, and she noticed that his caramel-coloured hair looked soft and freshly washed, and his bronzed complexion reminded her of a creme brulee.  She began to feel hungry. Then she recovered her composure. 
“You shouldn’t need a sign.  It’s obvious.”
He studied her curiously, gestured around him to the numerous passers-by who behaved as if it was a normal Friday night occurrence in the rush hour.  “Do you see anyone complaining?” he asked.  “Where are the hordes of objections, then?”
Now he was getting on her nerves. He continued doggedly, “Am I inundated with protests?  I think not.” 
They had reached stalemate. Glaring at him, Kate noticed that although he was behaving like a lout, he was not dressed like one.  In fact, he was smartly attired, with liquorice-black trousers, a creamy white shirt open at the neck and a leather blouson-style jacket the colour of Bournville chocolate.  He looked good enough to eat.

I called the story “Eat Me” (so you can probably guess what the sexual activity was!) and I duly submitted it to QWF, who printed it.  However, the editor suggested I try an erotic magazine, such as Forum (sadly another magazine no longer with us).  Well, I had been a regular Forum reader since the age of 16, so I dipped into the current issue, and sent my story off.  I’ve been lucky to work with some great editors and Forum’s Elizabeth Coldwell was very encouraging.  She liked the story too, but it wasn’t raunchy enough for Forum so would I like to expand the sexual activity, with a bit more detail, and she would reconsider it.  Wow!  If there was a possibility of being published in one of my favourite magazines, I would find a way to do it!  I lacked confidence initially, but the rewritten story with extra raunch was accepted and published and became the start of a long and productive relationship with Forum (and subsequently For Women) magazine. 

Soon, I couldn’t produce new work fast enough, so I began to trawl my archive folder of still unpublished fiction to see if, with the addition of some naughtier input, it could evolve into erotica. 

And so followed a most enjoyable and interesting writing exercise, which taught me a lot about re-writing and also applying the “what if” principle to individual stories.  It resulted in one of my previous “literary” and prize winning short stories called Perfect Strangers (inspired by my years of commuting) metamorphosing (many years later) into Nice Work, a very raunchy story that appears in the Xcite e-anthology Eve’s Big Bang, (which I recently gave a reading of at one of our Wanton Words Burlesque Shows.  It went down very well and I got such a buzz reading it out loud!)

I would recommend the technique of “reinvention” to any writer.  It kick started my erotic writing career and I have subsequently used this technique on many occasions, especially if I am pushed for a deadline.  It’s just as creative as writing something totally new and a useful skill to develop.

Could your undiscovered masterpiece be reinvented as genre fiction?

A later version of Eat Me appears in Xcite e-book Ultimate Sins

Nice Work can be found in Xcite e-book Eve’s Big Bang

Saturday, 14 December 2013

Isabella Johns: A Secret, a Confession and a Guilty Pleasure

As part of my occasional series, A Secret, a Confession and a Guilty Pleasure , today I'm thrilled that my guest post is from author Isabella Johns, author of  My Hot Fireman.

A Secret:

A lot of people think that my stories are based on my personal experience.  But I live a rather moderate, sedate life.  Fact is, very often I’m inspired by things that happen to my younger sister.  She is lot more impulsive.  Crazy things always seems to happen to her.  I’m not saying MY HOT FIREMAN is based on her true life activities, but she does live right next to a firehouse in New York City!

A Confession:

Sometimes I wish I could be my younger sister.  My life is so predictable, especially since getting married.  She is still single and lives a very unencumbered existence.  I often wonder what it would be like to meet someone new and have open the possibility that we might get together, that some fresh sparks could actually fly.  Of course sometimes my sister envies the stability in my life.  But I wouldn’t mind one of those hall passes for a day that allowed me to do anything I want.  Fireman Paul, watch out!

A Guilty Pleasure:

Like so many others, my guilty pleasure is watching the cable series Homeland with complete passion and loyalty.  For me it was extra intense, because we only recently signed up for the Showtime channel on cable.  Then to find out you can click on the series and see the past episodes anytime you want.  Well, that did it.  I started watching one after the other.  It was so much more thrilling to see all of the action unfurl at once and not have to wait a whole week to find out what happens next.  I’m obsessed!  I could have done all three seasons continuously, but managed to space them out over four exhausting days.  Unfortunately, now I’m all caught up and have to wait for each Sunday.  If only Carrie would stop tearing up on a dime and lose the lip quiver.  No matter, it’s a great show!
by Isabella Johns
Or perhaps he knows I’ve undressed him from my window while fingering myself into profound dirty ecstasy.
Who the fuck cares?
I literally rip off his shirt, scattering a few buttons, because I’m so eager to see and touch his masculine fineness.
Oh shit!
It’s exactly like I envisioned from my window, imagined in my bed.
So completely smooth and hairless, it’s for sure he has done some waxing of his own.  And those nipples, perfectly brown and large, jutting with muscled strength.
But this is really not like my bedroom fantasies where I lay back and allowed him to have his way.
I’m a tigress set free as I break away from his mouth and attack his chest with my tongue, licking a set of wet stripes all over that sweet body.
I take the brownish nipples into my mouth and suck and his head goes back and he lets out a deep moan.
How invigorating that I can still make a man react like this.
How different his body feels compared to what I’m used to.
My ex was never fat, but his chest and stomach always had a sort of looseness, never toned.
Give toned a Google search and you’ll see Fireman Paul’s picture.
He’s a lot gentler with my blouse, which I’m grateful for, considering what I paid for it, but the results are the same and my blouse and bra soon join his shirt to form a pile on the floor.
He wants to return the favor with my nipples, but I just can’t get enough of this man.  I manage to reverse our positions and soon have him pinned against the wall as I lightly rake my nails over his upper body, causing lines of full blush wherever I wander.
I lean real close to lick the peaks and valleys of his muscled abs, then trail up his chest along his left side until I come to rest by his armpit where I notice a small, short, discreetly manscaped thatch of soft brownish blond hair.  I breathe as deeply as I can…as if I’ve been trapped underwater for ages and I’m finally allowed a beautiful earthly scent.
Again he makes an attempt to reciprocate—and my nipples do ache for his rough callused fingers to make them twitch—but I just can’t stop myself.
I’m on my knees, not caring if I shred my stockings, unbuckling his pants.
His head goes back, body goes limp, and I hear him say, “You’re so fucking amazing!”
I sometimes believe I am.
I can remember in college having boyfriends who thought I was a good lover and seemed to want me with an insatiable appetite.
At least that’s what I thought.
What about marriage turned me into such a dud?
The pants are soon down, off, along with his boxers and boots.
I want him completely naked, as I envisioned.
The legs are like those of a stallion.  Perhaps he works out in the basement gym we heard about on the tour, or maybe all of the grunt work from his training and probie duties have sculpted this Adonis.  I let my fingers cascade down the thickness of his flesh, the hairless feel of his legs causing my heart to hammer against my ribcage and my pussy to melt against the black lace.
I can’t stop kissing his robust thighs and powerful calves.
Kisses of lust.  Kisses of gratefulness.
Thank you, Fireman Paul! I want to shout.  For helping me remember this kind of living.  For helping me know that all of this is still possible.
And finally I take the time to stare at his bull’s eye.
More curved than I imagined, but not one iota less beautiful.
The sight of it so rigid and hard without it even being touched—simply because of my presence, my ministrations everywhere else on his body—leaves me breathless.
It seems even more powerful and magnificent because—unlike what I had envisioned when I welcomed him into my bed—and clearly not a practice from my generation—there is not a follicle of hair anywhere, the full shaft revealed along with every curvy detail of his prized balls.
The smooth skin of his cock flowing seamlessly onto his hard creamy stomach makes it that much more princely and grand.
I kiss him there.
I kiss his cock all over.
I kiss it like it’s my long lost lover and I’m just so happy we’re in the same room again.
Is it possible to fall instantly in love with a cock?

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Sunday, 8 December 2013

A new year approaches.....

When something finishes you can't help reflecting on how it all began.

Saturday was the last Wanton Words and Burlesque Bombshells saucy cabaret show at the bijou Tom Thumb theatre in Cliftonville with the amazingly talented performers Missy Maybe and Miss Glory Pearl.  The regular audience is wonderful and a great confidence booster, and I thoroughly enjoyed reading my naughty erotic tales.

I remember our first Wanton Words show in the Canterbury Fringe Festival 3 years ago, when I was nearly sick with nerves and physically shaking when I took the stage. By contrast, I am so much more relaxed when I read, and my fellow performers tell me I have blossomed, which is lovely.

But all good things come to an end, so they say.  And inevitably, when the old year comes to a close and the new one is soon to begin, we reflect on what we have done, what we haven't and how we can do better.

2014 will be a time of review for my erotic writing career.  I've been a published erotica writer for more than 13 years, well before the 50 Shades hurricane, and blogging for nearly 2 years.  I had planned to throw in the towel in February 2014, to concentrate on my parallel writing career. However, I'm postponing this decision for one more year, since my publisher, Xcite, have decided to bring out a collection of 21 of my short stories in January 2014.  The Best of Elizabeth Cage will be available in both print and e-book format, so I will be focussing energy on promoting it. I also plan to produce a You Tube trailer with live readings.

So I wonder what (or if) I will be blogging this time next year?  Will I still decide to give up on erotica?  Or will I be writing more than ever?

Related posts:

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

Slow Poison just 99p for 7 days!

As part of the kindle countdown deals, my collection of dark and twisty stories, Slow Poison, will be available for just 99p for the next 7 days.  So if you fancy trying it out and want to grab it before it goes back to the full price of £2.01 click on the icon on the side bar to buy it now!

For a review of the book click here

For an interview about the book click here

For more about the stories click here

Sunday, 1 December 2013

Last chance for saucy Xmas fun!

This really is your LAST CHANCE to enjoy the saucy larks and general rudery that is Wanton Words and Burlesque Bombshells as we have our final outing at the Tom Thumb Theatre.

If you want to escape from the C word to a world of fun and naughty humour for a few hours, then do come along and keep us company!

Join Miss Maybe and Miss Glory Pearl for the last Wanton Words & Burlesque Bombshells of the year, and our last outing at the Tom Thumb theatre.

There'll be mischief, mayhem, cake, a festive Raffle of Dreams, the wonderful Elizabeth Cage and some very special guests, including the truly extraordinary Vivacity Bliss!

Doors 7.30pm, show starts 8pm.

Tickets are £10, available in advance from the theatre on 01843 221791 or online at: