Tag Archives: story

Good Porn Comes to Those Who Wait – An Interview with Alison Tyler


Click cover to view on Amazon!

Today, we’re thrilled to interview the famed Alison Tyler at the Go Deeper blog. Alison is the author of Dark Secret Love andThe Delicious Torment (both Cleis Press), not to mention dozens of other books—check out her website to find out more. In fact, her novelette, Those Girls, will be FREE next weekend on Amazon (5/9 to 5/11), so don’t miss the promo! We’re also excited about Alison’s Those Boys, which will be the next in the series. We’ll let you know, in due course, when Those Boys will be released, but for now, stay tuned for a hot sneak preview below.

1. We can sense your enjoyment in Those Girls. What did you particularly enjoy while you were writing the novelette? 

I started Those Girls as a tale of vengeance. You’ve heard me say this before, but Vanessa was based on a woman I know—and don’t particularly like. I wanted to create a painful situation for her—but me being me, I wanted that situation to bring her unbelievable pleasure. Vanessa came first. Sandy followed. And I fell in love hard with Sandy.

3. Can you give us a sneaky peek into what Those Boys is about?

Vanessa and Sandy have created a solid, BDSM-filled life. They are about to be joined by Rem, a beautiful boy who is not entirely sure what he wants.

I wondered whether he could sense the sort of life that Vanessa and I shared together. In one corner was her desk, with a laptop, notebooks, pens. And next to the desk was a heavy-duty ring. Sometimes I chained her to her desk—because I loved turning that fabrication you hear so many writers say “I was chained to my desk all weekend”—into a cold, hard reality.

Did he look through the doorway into the kitchen and see the sterling bowl on the floor? Did he have an instant vision of Vanessa, naked, drinking anything I poured for her? Water. Wine. Coffee cooled with pure cream. Could he imagine her with her hair up in a high knot on the top of her head, dipping down to lap from her bowl—her special bowl? Could he pretend for just one second that he might have a bowl at her side?

That thought gave me a hard-on again, and I went to the bathroom to take a piss and get myself under control. It wouldn’t do me any good to be too riled up. I splashed cold water on my face, pat myself dry, took a good long look at my own reflection. No, I’m not a pretty boy like Rem. Not by a long shot. Not like I ever was. I’m hardened. I’m shopworn. I’ve lived the years and have the lines around my eyes that I wear like a testament.

4. Is Sandy’s sexual connection with Rem in Those Boys different to his connection with Vanessa in Those Girls?

Bringing Rem into the picture simply allows me to show Sandy with a man. Sandy’s ability is to see what his lovers want. He has a special trait. A sixth sex sense. He knows what Rem truly desires, and he gives this to him in full:

I pride myself on my ability to read people’s desires. To see something in a person—even a complete stranger—and wrap my fist around that shining need. So where was he? We couldn’t have scratched his itch…. He’d been outside of his comfort zone. That was for sure. But when I’d lubed up his asshole and slid a thumb inside him, when I’d told him that I was going to have Vanessa fuck him with a strap-on—the look he’d given me was one that I understood. I’d found him out. I’d grabbed the gold ring. You don’t walk away from that type of raw honesty.

5. For you, what is so sexy about Sandy?

Sandy is so fucking comfortable with who he is. I love that about him. I would climb into his Levis, slide on his leather jacket, slip on a faded leather cuff in a heartbeat. I’d let my whiskers grow. I’d drag the back of my hand over the hard scruff as I waited for a cup of coffee at the local diner. I’d hear the jingle of coins in my pocket. Sandy is my hero. When I grow up, I want to be him.

6. What else, if anything, would you like to tell us about your writing, Alison?

Stories take time. I’ve been jonesing to write the next installment to Those Girls for awhile. But it took seeing a man in a clothing store for me to realize where the story was headed. I try not to rush myself. Good porn comes to those who wait.

Thanks so much to the fabulous and ridiculously talented Alison! Folks, Those Girls, FREE on Amazon this coming weekend, (5/9 to 5/11). Don’t miss the promo! Also, read another hot excerpt from Those Boys at Alison Tyler’s blog…

Called a “Trollop with a Laptop” by East Bay Express, Alison Tyler is naughty and she knows it. Her sultry short stories have appeared in more than 100 anthologies, including Coupling, edited by Sommer Marsden, and Sex for America, edited by Stephen Elliott. She is the author of more than 25 erotic novels, most recently Dark Secret Love and The Delicious Torment (both from Cleis Press), and the editor of more than 75 explicit anthologies, including Kiss My Ass, Bad Ass, Smart Ass, and Happily Ever Anal. Visit www.alisontyler.blogspot.com 24/7, as she’s a total insomniac.

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Free Xmas Erotica from Tamsin Flowers

From TamsinFlowers.com

From TamsinFlowers.com

Hello, folks. Lana here. I have been slow to let you know that GDP author Tamsin Flowers included an excerpt from my story in Femme Fatale yesterday, as part of her gorgeous Supererotica Advent Calendar. And today, she features an excerpt from her sexy Cherries on Top — love this one. Check it out!

Also, our own Jacob Louder’s sexy advent calendar excerpt will be up on the 15th, so you can wait for that with baited breath.

Thank you, Tamsin. You really are the sexy Santa!

Thanks for reading! Guzzle up our sexy reads at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Go Deeper Press (for all e-readers), and we’ll love you forever. Hearts.

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Bring On the Sexy Heist (and Some Free Erotica)

I’ve always enjoyed a good heist.  And since I’m writing an erotic heist series right now, entitled Con, (the first in the series will be You Can Play It Safe When You’re Dead) I’m all the more keen.  So I thought I’d share a few heist/con movie moments that I find particularly erotic.  The first of these is from the remake of the Thomas Crowne Affair, directed by John McTiernan, and my god, it’s worth viewing.  Piers Brosnan and Rene Russo spark with sexy stormheat (and Rene Russo makes Elizabeth Hurley’s famous dress — yes, that dress — look positively tame.)  Enjoy!

Also, my erotic piece, Smart Folks Won’t Screw Witless Girls (from Femme Fatale: Erotic Tales of Dangerous Women) is a thief story.  If you’re interested, take a look at the opening pages:

Smart Folks Won’t Screw Witless Girls

There’s one thing you should know about me: I don’t choose my victims. I just stand at a bar and wait for the mark to come to me. He’s usually a businessman or sometimes a businesswoman, and while they try to reel me in, I let them think they’re winning. They buy me drinks, flatter and flirt, brush their hands against my thigh, tell me I look hot in black. Then they offer me a ride.

So I go home with them, have better-than-average sex (which, I might add, is due to my own efforts), then when they’re asleep, I steal their stuff. Say what you like, I’m thieving from a thief. Just because I thieve for money and they thieve for sex doesn’t mean this isn’t a damn fair game—a game I usually win.

But last night, things were different. Last night, I met Elle Clearey.

“Elle,” she said, sliding onto the stool next to mine.

“As in the letter?”

She gave me a sideways smile that crinkled her powdered face. “What do you think, Sweetheart? D’you have me down as a one-letter trick?”

I smiled. “You’re good.”

“I’m also rich and thirsty.”

“Mine’s a gin and tonic,” I said.

She ordered Tanqueray with lemon, not lime, even though I’d given no preference. When I asked why, she raised a delicate eyebrow. “If I’m going to kiss you, my dear, you might as well taste of the good stuff.”


It was a strange kind of seduction—different to the others. Not least because it wasn’t clear who was seducing who. In her red silk blouse and knee-length skirt, she was classier than my usual marks and seven times as bold. Her deep red lipstick had been flawlessly fixed, and her powdered face was mask-like with perfection. She had the most adorable snub nose that gave a constant air of irony, and she wore her brown hair in a delicate chignon, which she patted softly now and then.

She was also good at avoiding questions. Twenty minutes into our conversation, I only knew a handful of facts: She worked in the art world, hated the Dido track that was playing, and her husband had run off with a so-called friend—one she bitterly referred to as “Pussy Galore.” (When I laughed at that, she glared). “He wants the house,” she said, draining her final sip of wine. “The house that we bought with my inheritance money.” She raised her left eyebrow the tiniest amount and said, “He won’t succeed.”

I admit I began to like her.

After I’d told her I had a job as a secretary in an accountancy firm—a useful lie, because who’d ask about that?—I said, “Why do you still wear your wedding ring?”

“I thought you’d like the challenge,” she purred. I laughed at her obvious smokescreen. Before I could respond, she added, “And seeing as you’re all about the personal questions, who the hell are you, and why are you here alone?”

“I’m Tiff,” I told her. “And I’m here ’cos I’m filling a void.”

“A void?” she said. “How sexual.”

“Doesn’t have to be.”

“But it is.”

She held my gaze unflinchingly as she rubbed her knee against mine. Through my jeans, I felt the warmth of her and the friction of her stocking against my denim-clad knee. I also noticed that, beneath the layers of blouse and bra, her nipples had grown hard. I felt my sex burning as she leaned toward me, running a fingertip down my arm before covering my hand with hers. “You might have a void,” she said, breath warm against my cheek, “but with me, it’s something quite different.”

“You’re not like the others?” I said. “Behold the cliché.”

A half-smile. “Oh, kitten,” she said, “if only you knew.”

You can read the whole story in Femme Fatale: Erotic Tales of Dangerous Women, (available for Kindle and NOOK) one of our bestselling books here at Go Deeper Press.

All right, sexy readers.  The con is on.

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