Saturday, February 15, 2014

Guest Blogger: Peter Tupper

I encountered Peter when writing for Circlet's Like a Corset Undone, and I was thrilled when he submitted a story for the Filed Off anthology by Inkstained Succubus. Alas, the anthology fell through, but he let us publish him as a stand alone. I love his tale of cyberpunk lesbians.

Greetings. My name is Peter Tupper. I’m a writer and journalist in Vancouver, BC, and I’m here to tell you about my new book, An Angel Has No Memory, published by Inkstained Succubus.
My writing career has followed an odd path, one I wouldn’t have predicted. My first professional fiction sale was “Subjective Lens”, sent to then-fledgling erotica publisher Circlet Press in the early 1990s. I had just got into BDSM, both as an academic subject and as my own sexuality, and I wrote an odd, white-elephant story called “Subjective Lens”. It was over-long and rather talky (and the only published work of a complicated future history I had planned and since abandoned), but they accepted it for the S/M Futures print anthology.
My fiction writing career lay fallow for several years, while I worked as a freelance journalist and tried several other projects, including an abandoned fantasy novel.
In 2005, I started a researching and writing a history of consensual sadomasochism, something I thought was lacking. Toni Morrison wrote that, “You should write the book you would love to read.” I documented my work at My research into Victorian sexuality, and theorizing about the deeper meaning of kink, gave me the idea for a short story, “The Innocent’s Progress”. When Circlet Press, newly reborn as an ebook publisher in the age of Kindle, put out a call for stories for a collection of steampunk erotica, Like a Wisp of Steam, I submitted “The Innocent’s Progress”, and was accepted. A similar process let to my indirect sequel story, “The Pretty Horsebreaker”, being published in the follow-up anthology, Like a Corset Undone.
That was the early days of the steampunk boom, and since I already knew a lot about Victorian history and sexuality, I contacted Circlet and proposed a collection of steampunk stories, including the two previously published stories and new ones. This became a set of loosely connected short stories set in a quasi-Victorian alternate world, with characters who are analogs of real historical figures. I also wrote “The Impurity”, a revisionist version of “The Strange Tale of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde”, with the good doctor deciding to feed his formula to his maid. The Innocent’s Progress & Other Stories launched as an ebook in 2010, to generally good reviews, though not great sales.
Circlet has published a series of themed collections of erotica, some united by a subject, other by a writer. I contributed to the the dystopian fiction anthology Like an Iron Fist (“Tragedy, then Farce”) and the collections based on the works of Arthur Conan Doyle, with “Songs without Words” in Elementary Erotica, and HP Lovecraft, with “Konigsberg’s Model” in Whispers in Darkness. I also got into writing flash fiction (stories less than 1,000 words) which were published at My other recent fiction works include the zombie erotica “The Charge of the Soul”, published by Forbidden Fiction both as a stand-alone ebook and as part of the Touched by Death ebook and print anthology.
My work seems like an odd fit in the genre of erotica, as I come at the subject from a more intellectual than romantic angle. One reviewer said that I write more about sexual themes than sexual scenes, and I agree, being interested in the social context of sexuality in fantastic or science fictional settings.

My first published non-erotica story, “The Thing in the Printer”, will be part of Cthulhu Lives, a Lovecraftian anthology to be published by Ghost Wood later in 2014. Where I go from here, I don’t know. From what I’ve observed, to shift from writing fiction as a hobby to even a part-time career requires volume and specialization, neither of which are my strength. My output is erratic and varies widely in genre, mood and style. My other muse, for non-fiction, also calls to me, and I’ve renewed my commitment to getting my BDSM history book finished and published. 

My Sexy Saturday: I Feel Sexy 

We're trying the link back, instead of a linky list this week.

"We love the stories where the characters are confident in their sexuality. We love those stories where one of those characters has to teach the other that they really are sexy. We love it every time when they get together and show us just how sexy they feel. Share them with us this week!"

From Spellbound Desire

Buy Link:

On the Nightside of Memphis, werewolves teach college, zombies load trucks and private investigator D. J. is hard at work, finding missing persons, solving cases and drinking herself into an early grave. Then Bran walks into her office, asking for her help in destroying the demon Oeilett, and everything changes.

Something about the battered, scarred combat mage ignites all the lusty feelings D. J. thought she had successfully drowned in rum. The mana he exudes weaves a web of desire over her, clouding thought and making the sultry summer even steamier.

Bran’s body and face may be marked by his previous battles, but everything under the black leather kilt works perfectly, and D. J. learns there are more things in Memphis, the hellplanes and her own heart than she had ever imagined.

Seven paragraphs

I stepped out of her office and leaned against the wall, letting the grin break out all over me face. I heard the smash of the crockery on the door and wondered if it was the mug with the wee sooky on it. Her cousin must be a right bampot to get her that one, and I wondered if she even understood the joke. Probably not, being a Yank and all. A wee sooky back home in Glasgow and points north wasn’t the tiny succubus she’d handed me, but a long low-down kiss. I could enjoy a wee sooky from her. Been a few years since I’d had one.

The old men what had given me the name and address when I found out Oeilett was on his way to Memphis didn’t tell me much about Admire. Hard drinking, abrasive, hard to work with, but nothing more. I’d been expecting a chap, Humphrey Bogart and all that rot, and instead I got Miss Porcupine, all bad temper and overheated sex drive. Her knickers were so hot for me, I could smell it all over the room. It looked like she didn’t know what to do about it neither, so I let that part of the conversation lie. Wouldn’t have minded bending her over her desk, though and pounding the fury right out of her.

I expected a wee peekie under the kilt would have had her ankles over her head in that Murphy bed I’d seen the frame of. Been a long fair while since there’d been any sweet stuff let go for me. Aside from me Ma and sibs, nobody wanted me to hang around much. The ladies and bairns went screeching from my face. The bolder lads always wanted to take me on, see if I was as tough as the scars.

No one with a lick of mana even tried, though. The weak ones practically pissed themselves when I got inside a half-kilometer. The more powerful ones backed down. This Admire woman, she had enough mana to know what I was, to feel my power. But she wasn’t running. I think it just made her more pissed.

Dried-up old Witan pricks back in Salem’d sent me out on this one. They didn’t see a problem with me hunting a fewking demon until I dropped dead of old age. And a very old age it’d be if they had their way. Fifty was almost twice the usual combat mage life expectancy. And for a man, it meant this was my last job. The ladies had to work to fifty-five. I thought it was right unfair, but they had to take a couple years off to have the required two babies. We boys just donated once a year to the cause of making more wizards. I could retire if I survived. I expected the Witan didn’t want to see that. My big sister had embarrassed them enough by being the first combat mage in seventy years to retire. Now it boded that two of us were going to manage it. 

They couldn’t have the combat mages expecting to live to old age. In our job, we take Death as our lover and live with her close to hand. No mage ever has a choice of vocation. I had to go where the mana sent me and learn what it wanted of me before I could control it. It’s the same for everyone from the weakest talismonger to the most powerful sorcerer.

Dried-up old pricks the Witan were, and they wanted mine to dry up just as bad, I thought. Been six years since I’d had a woman, and her I’d had to pay. I could practically smell Admire even through the door. So much adrenaline and all the sweetness of a lady and just a little sweat she’d worked up being mad at me, I breathed it all in like perfume.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

My Sexy Saturday: Come Undone Sexy

"Have you ever had characters that just couldn’t wait to be all over each other? You know the kind that just couldn’t get enough of each other, no matter what the circumstance? Well, this week is about those characters that go at it like rabbits if they do it."

This is from Chain-Male.

Chad leads a quiet life centered on his work as a university librarian...until the day he sees the cute guy in the history class he's auditing. Later, Jace comes on strong when he visits the library, first asking Chad for information, then for a date.

But Chad has no idea what he's getting into with the ponytailed, bracelet-wearing mechanic. All of his printed-out porn and slightly kinky fantasies never prepared him for chainmail and historical re-enactment.

Chad is about to get a living history lesson he'll never forget...

Seven My Sexy Saturday Paragraphs

Chad nodded. They went in and ordered at the register. Jace got the potato pancakes and Chad went for pigs in a blanket. Chad caught himself staring at various parts of Jace during the interminable wait. His mouth was going to be sweeter than the maple syrup on the pancakes. Those big battered hands, Chad noticed a new cut across the back of the left one, were going to feel wonderful on his chest and cock and ass. He snuck a glance at Jace’s jeans, dying to get at what lay under the zipper.

The server delivered the take-out bag and they practically fled to the car. Chad held the food while Jace drove back to his place, as fast as the law allowed. Chad pretended that last stoplight had been yellow when they entered the intersection.

The take-out ended up dropped on the end table and Jace’s mouth was all over Chad’s as soon as the door closed. Chad moaned under the onslaught, as hungry for Jace’s mouth as Jace seemed to be for his.

Once unencumbered with food, Jace’s hands were everywhere, on his cheeks, around his waist, groping his ass and finally opening his jeans. Chad felt his cock leap out of the zipper, straight into Jace’s waiting hand.

“Gonna suck you.” Jace pushed him back against the door, kicked his feet apart and shoved his jeans down his thighs, essentially trapping him. Chad just moaned, desperate for this.

Jace went to his knees, pinning Chad to the door and sucked him all the way down, pressing his lips to Chad’s groin and sticking his tongue out to flick Chad’s balls. Chad just shook, unfamiliar sensations wracking him with pleasure.

Jace slid off until only the barest tip of Chad’s cock rested on his lips. He flickered his tongue over the head, teasing the slit and tracing the ridge. Chad closed his fists and tried not to come at the second lick.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Not dead yet

I just came off a 10 day workweek, mostly at night. I've been in every Dillards from Little Rock to Nashville.

Regular posting is about to resume. We have guest bloggers and my new stuff.
I submitted three stories at the end of last year and "Waterwheel" has been picked up for Storm Moon press' Devout, a priest kink anthology. Naomi and I subbed "Riding the Edge," with sexy interracial combat mages, for Inkstained Succubus' Dominant Tendencies, and it's in there too. Still waiting to hear on the YA.

I said on FB, "I write tentacle sex and everyone says "Of course you did." I write YA and the pearl clutching makes you think the world was ending."

Have been ridiculously fannish about Smallville.
Have just bought Season 3.
However, I forgot to check my Ebay shipping address.
I bought Dark Sage yarn in Movember, had it sent to my mom's place in Drexel Mo.

Guess where my Season 3 SV discs are?
And my copy of "Rick" is headed there as well.
Mom says she'll mail them my way.