Thank you

Everyone can rant about something, right? How about instead we take a minute to be thankful? That’s what I’d like to do today, anyway. I’ve done this before with huge success. By success, I mean the people I thanked (Pet, Husband, and Eye) were touched and honored by my thanks, and it meant a lot to them.

I’ve mentioned recently that I’ve been working with a group of authors on a small publishing projected called Heatstroke Press. You can find us here on Facebook. The authors (Sydney-Mae Baker, Belinda Burke, Raven Dark, Destiny Dawn, Ryan Kells, Brianna Lawrence, Jamie Steele, and myself) came together from a small private Facebook group called NaNoRotica, an erotic writer’s collective. I’m grateful for the Heatstroke project, and I’m grateful for all of the authors in the group.

Heatstroke is our small publishing group that is meant to help authors cross-publicize and build a readership. We believe that erotica writers can make a living writing, and endeavor to help our writers do just that–bring in a significant income through their writing. These writers are putting out some of the hottest erotica I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something. I believe they deserve to be read. Most of us are publishing short stories, because we are able to offer them at a lower price point and a higher heat level than a full length novel, which can be hard to infuse with sexiness at every turn, and which necessarily will be priced higher.

Without the Heatstroke Press authors, I would have stayed in my writing rut, which is to say, I wasn’t writing anything. Since we’ve started the project, I’ve written one 25 page short story (coming out on 9/15!) that’s super hot (more on this tomorrow) and I’m halfway through the sequel, which is also turning out to be super hot.

I’m grateful for you guys, too. My readers. Without you guys, I wouldn’t have anything. My royalty check says that someone out there is reading me, and for that, I couldn’t be more grateful. Writing is a labor of love, even writing erotica. I’m putting a piece of myself on display, leaving it out there and offering it up for other people to consume. It’s sometimes scary, sometimes embarrassing, and always nerve-wracking. I’m even grateful for the people who read my stuff and don’t love it. Those folks leave great feedback–that a story’s ending wasn’t conclusive enough, or that they wanted more heat, or whatever. I only grow from reviews, even if they sting a little.

So special thanks to everyone who’s lifted me up lately. You guys. Heatstroke authors. Pet and Husband as always.

I love you all.


Today I’ve been thinking about luxuries. I recently left my boring office job without a backup, and I’ve been job hunting for three months now with no bites, so luxuries are quickly going by the wayside. What luxuries can I live without? Which ones are really impacting my quality of life and would make me significantly less happy to go without?

I think the bottom line for me is the one that most people feel this way about, and that’s internet connection. As I’ve written about here, I live in a small town without much in the way of internet access. I have my phone and I use that as a wireless hotspot, but the nearest library with a good connection is a half hour away, in a medium sized town that has cafes and other free hotspots, too. There’s literally nothing where I live, besides extremely expensive satellite options, which are also faulty and slow.

Without the internet I’m cut off from KDP, the platform on which I’ll be publishing my next few short stories (a gangbang series titled Group Effort), beta readers, research, and more.

Beyond the internet, I would feel lost without a laptop. Recently, my “old faithful” started to die a tragic death. Well, no, that’s inaccurate. Two years ago it was dropped on its head and cracked the monitor housing, damaging a hinge in the process. It’s been rough going ever since. As of this summer, though, it started giving me weird error messages that my brother (who is majoring in business and IT) told me was a sign of the end of times. I panicked. Without a laptop, how would I write? And how could I afford a laptop with my royalties checks in the low hundreds, and food to put on the table?

Luckily, I am blessed with some very incredible fellow writers as friends. These are people who I would trust my writing with no matter what genre I wrote in. Who I expect to give me an honest review, with valuable feedback, and for whom I’d do the same. These are also people whom I genuinely like and want to be around. Real friends, not just a group of writers that I meet with each month. One of them has a husband who’s in IT, and they happened to have a spare laptop lying around. She gifted me the laptop, which is currently nameless (but bright red), and I’ve been in love since the day I met it.

Another luxury – I’m coming up with a LOT of them! – is Scrivener. I could live without Scrivener, I could even write without Scrivener, but it’s almost like, “What’s the point?” Scrivener is like Microsoft Word on steroids, but better. It offers writers the opportunity to divide works into scenes, which can be easily moved around with little tabs, a corkboard with notecard images where I can write summaries of each scene and move those around with ease, and so much more. Bonus points: It can compile my work into any format I request, including PDF and Word.

And one final luxury. This one I can absolutely live without, but I love it so much, and it would replace all three of the above (well, maybe not internet). A notebook with stone paper. I don’t know how to describe stone paper except to say you have to feel it to understand. It’s different from regular paper made from pulp – it’s literally made from stones. It’s slick and cool and a little rough at the same time. It doesn’t bleed ink unless you’re extra careless. The pages are rip resistant and won’t just tear out because your hand slipped. I only have two stone notebooks now, but I love them so much that I’m afraid to write in them and waste the paper.

What little luxuries do you think you can’t live without?

The excitement never ends

Today I got to thinking about excitement. Little Man goes to school today for the first time – Kindergarten, that is. He was excited and nervous and all sorts of worked up. When was the last time I felt those butterflies? I can pinpoint several occasions in recent memory.

To start with, one that isn’t about writing is about the convention I mentioned in my earlier post from today. I had several opportunities to take photographs with my favorite actors, and I’d been planning these for months. In one, I asked the incredible. I asked the actor to grab my jacket and give me “sexy bedroom eyes.” I still can’t believe I did it. I was so nervous that I felt sick, and I was sure he’d say no. He didn’t. In fact, he happily obliged me and sent me on my way. (These photo shoots are incredibly short, as is true for most conventions; you only get a few seconds of time to explain what you want and have the photo taken.) My entire body felt flushed and full of nerves. Another photo, another request, a different actor (well, a pair of them). I asked to let me and Pet “fight” over the one we both prefer, while the other looked on with jealousy. They performed beautifully. We were both almost ill over the whole thing. Later, I asked for a simple hug photo from the same actor. That was probably the most peaceful one, because I’d met him before and I wasn’t as nervous.

Another story from the trip we took. While we stood outside the venue to meet my favorite musician, I paced, bit my nails, and chewed my lip nervously. When finally he came out to say hello, my stomach did flips. I’ve met him several times before (my guess is five or six, without taking the time to count), but I was still nervous. This time I wanted to show him a tattoo that consisted of his band logo and my favorite lyric. I was terrified that he’d be taken aback or find it weird somehow. He was gracious and kind, and told me he thought it was “rad,” for which I’ll be forever grateful. We hugged and took a photo, and I got his autograph. It was lovely, and serene, despite my nerves. This was less rushed than the convention would be, because it wasn’t any official meet and greet, just a singer saying hi to his grateful fans after a show.

On a personal note, Pet and I have some big changes coming up soon, and those make me very excited. All will be revealed in due time, though.

And writing related – the last time I felt writing excitement. I believe it was the last time I had a story accepted to MLR Books. MLR has taken on three of my stories so far, and they’ve loved every one of them. My upcoming short book from MLR is called Another Shot and it’s about a man and his ex-boyfriend finding love again. The ex just so happens to be a stripper.

What have you gotten excited about lately?

Crickets and a new cover to share

Man has it been a long time since I’ve updated! My apologies, friends and readers. I’ve been busy, but not so busy that I couldn’t stop in and drop you an update.

A few things have happened since I took my summer hiatus. Pet and I took a lovely couple of trips out of town, where Pet had the chance to explore some issues important to him, including the use of gender pronounce (from henceforth, I will be using male pronouns for Pet, as requested). We’d like to go out of town again, but the club we’re aiming for has had quite a few issues getting reopened, and will be back up and running in the late fall, supposedly, so that trip has been postponed yet again.

On one trip, I got to talk to a musician I adore, and Pet actually chatted him up quite a bit, no nerves because Pet doesn’t have any special attachment to this guy, whereas I get all nervous and fluttery and fangirl-y around him. I was able to show him a tattoo that means a lot to me, and he called it “rad,” so I’ll take it. We also visited the Mormon temple, as Pet is Mormon, which was a really cool experience. There are obviously restricted parts of the temple that only members of the church can visit, but I was able to see the visitor’s center, the lobby, and walk the grounds. It was beautiful, and if I were a believer, I would have found it quite spiritual.

On our second trip, we went to a convention full of other nerdy people. It was a great time listening to panels of our favorite actors speak, dressing up in costume daily, and taking photos with said actors. Pet got a tattoo of his signed by one actor and had the signature tattooed over a few days later.

Besides those trips, my summer remained quiet. I battled quite a bit of writer’s block, and struggled to come up with any new content, much less anything publishable. I’ve looked into a new project with a group of esteemed authors, and we’ve formed a publishing company of our own, called Heatstroke Press. We have quite a few books out at this time, that launched on September 1st, and there are more launching on the 15th, October 1st, and October 13th.

In fact, I have a short story I’d like to release on 9/15, titled Group Effort: Andrew and Cole. It’s a fun little gangbang story, only around 20 pages, and I hope you like it. I’m posting the cover art here because I’m very proud of it, and the work that the cover artist did. The cover is commissioned from Cover Your Dreams. Without further ado:

er6-1 copy

I hope you can forgive me for my long absence, and I shall endeavor to post regularly from here on out.



30 Posts of Kink – My Kinks

Today’s post is a list of my kinks, and a list of kinks I’d like to explore in writing. Except where noted, they are the same. (As I’ve written this, I’ve come to realize that not all of these are necessarily kinks, as much as “likes.” I’m not sure that it matters. Apologies.)

Continue reading “30 Posts of Kink – My Kinks”

30 posts of kink – Define your kinky self

Since I enjoyed my last blogging challenge so much, I’ve decided to pick up another one. This next one is 30 Days of Kink, but I’m going to shift it a bit to make it 30 posts, and I’ll probably actually leave some out or intersperse publication information and flash pieces I like to share with you. The challenge can be found here. I’ll also be shifting it so that it’s more about my identity as a writer and less about my preferences when possible.

So, without further ado, today I shall attempt to define my kinky self as an author. 

Continue reading “30 posts of kink – Define your kinky self”


Tonight’s piece is called “Wait,” but before I get to it, I have a small announcement to make: Nurse’s Orders has hit the bestseller list! You can find it here on the site. Thanks for the support! And please consider reviewing my work on Goodreads or Amazon, too. Every rating helps.

Okay, without further ado, my first foray into the world of male chastity devices. I hope I got it right, at least mostly. Feel free to tell me what I did wrong in the comments. “Wait” is 500 words, and is my Kink Bingo fill for “chastity devices.”


Andrew squirmed on the bed. “Please?” He was panting and running his hands along the blanket, anything to keep from touching his groin, not that touching would do him any good. His hips rocked gently back and forth, as if he was searching for some kind of contact. He probably was, Jake mused.

Jake grinned, looking self-satisfied. “Not at all.”

Andrew was panting now, and Jake couldn’t stand how much he was enjoying himself. A porn soundtrack played in the background, making matters that much worse for the squirming man.

“Please?” he said with a bit more desperation in his voice, bordering on a whine. “Please let me out of this thing, Jake. Please.”

“I do love it when you beg.” Jake toyed with the key in his hand, flipping it between fingers. The look of Andrew squirming on the bed, desperate, straining against the steel trap around his cock was almost too much to bear. Jake palmed his own stiff cock, groaning from the pleasure of it. “God, get over here and touch me, now.”

Andrew did as he was told, scrambling to the edge of the bed. He leaned in, deeply inhaling the scent of Jake’s arousal, before taking it in his hands. Andrew’s stroking was deft, sure, and it felt good, but not nearly good enough.

“Suck,” Jake commanded. His voice left no room for discussion or disagreement. Immediately, Andrew opened his mouth and leaned forward, taking Jake in his mouth. Jake let his eyes flutter closed, enjoying the hot, wet sensation of Andrew’s mouth, the intense pull of his sucking, the practiced flick of his tongue on the sensitive spot under the head. Andrew had done this before, and he was good. Andrew moaned as he sucked, and Jake knew that Andrew couldn’t take much more.

Jake rocked forward, fucking into Andrew’s mouth several times, until he was on the verge. He then twined his fingers in Andrew’s hair as he came, pulling the man close in, so he could shoot down Andrew’s throat. Andrew, for his part, swallowed greedily, slurping up as much as he could before letting the rest run out of his mouth. He continued sucking and bobbing his head until Jake pushed him away with a hiss.

“Please?” Andrew said again, this time with little conviction.

After a moment, Jake responded. “Okay. Yes.” He leaned down and slid the key into the lock, releasing Andrew’s cock from the chastity cage. Andrew responded with a loud moan, and he tumbled back onto the bed, clearly overwhelmed. His cock sprang to life, leaking copiously.

“Thank you,” he sighed. He reached a hand to his groin and received a sharp slap on the thigh in return.

“No touching,” Jake barked. Andrew whimpered. “That’s my job.”

With a gasp, Andrew bucked his hips in the air, seeking contact. When Jake closed his mouth around Andrew, he could hear the other man moan loudly in relief, bordering on a sob. This was good, Jake decided.

Challenge #12 – Short Story – Held Down

This is my version of a short story – a flash piece that is a kink bingo square fill for “held down.” It’s also a f/f piece, since I’ve been promising one for quite some time.


“Stay,” Tyler ordered. The other woman nodded, eager to please, laying on the bed with her arms above her head. The room was silent except for the lazy, rhythmic humming of the ceiling fan. Tyler rose from the bed and stepped to the side, choosing her implements carefully from an array of tools. She ran her fingertips along a flogger that she’d had for years, her favorite canes, and a small wooden paddle, before settling on a medium sized dildo that would fit neatly into her harness. This would do nicely for tonight, she decided, though she felt it was a shame she wouldn’t have the opportunity to use all of the implements before her.

Sarah quivered with excitement, and Tyler could see the wetness slipping from between Sarah’s spread legs, making its way down to the sheets. Tyler moved the tool between her own legs and nested it into the ring that would hold it in place. As it settled in, she groaned with anticipation. She dipped down to place a kiss on Sarah’s mound, which had the woman writhing and arching her back. Tyler pressed Sarah’s legs back onto the mattress gently.

“Be still,” Tyler said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

Carefully, slowly at first, Tyler eased the cock between Sarah’s legs, pressed into her pussy. She moved incrementally, watching Sarah’s face as she did so. Sarah’s eyes were screwed shut and she breathed hard as Tyler watched her work to control herself. Sarah’s thighs trembled with effort as Tyler penetrated her. Without warning, Tyler thrust the last three inches of the cock deep into Sarah, eliciting a gasp of surprise.

Tyler took that as her cue, and she began fucking in earnest, thrusting into Sarah over and over again. Once she had a rhythm going, she moved her hands to Sarah’s breasts, pinching and teasing at her nipples while Sarah moaned below. After one particularly hard twist, Sarah’s hands shot up to Tyler’s back, pulling the woman down for a kiss. Tyler acquiesced, slowing her thrusting to kiss Sarah deeply. She moved her mouth to Sarah’s breast and hovered over it, breathing hot air on the nipple.

“I know what you want,” Tyler said after a long moment. “But do you really think you deserve my mouth after that stunt you just pulled?”

“I—” Sarah gasped. “No, ma’am.”

Tyler slapped Sarah neatly across the face, only hard enough to sting. “Next time, you’ll behave, won’t you?” Sarah nodded, looking away. Tyler took Sarah’s wrists, one in each hand, and pinned them to the bed. She picked up her thrusting again, continued to fuck into Sarah, and the other woman could do nothing but lay and enjoy it.

When the time came, Tyler, shifted so that one of her hands held both of Sarah’s, and she moved her free hand down to Sarah’s pussy, rubbing her clit furiously, pushing Sarah over the precipice. As Sarah’s orgasm crashed over her, she thrashed and arched her back, but never pulled her hands away. When she was finished, Tyler pulled out, again slowly, and lay back on the bed.

“Good girl. Now,” she said, pointing to her own aching pussy, “get to work.”

Challenge #11 – Endings and Beginnings

Today’s challenge is to write about whatever’s on my mind. That happens to be endings and beginnings. I know that it makes logical sense to put beginnings first in that series, but in some ways, I think endings are easier, and so they come first.

Endings can be brutal. They can absolutely gut a person. They can be beautiful. They can leave the door open for the future. Endings are wonderful, terrible things. Surprise endings can be nice, or they can be nasty. Endings can leave a person feeling fulfilled or empty inside. I’m talking about two kinds of endings here – book endings, and real-life endings. (Incidentally, the word “endings” is starting to sound funny in my head, I’ve used it so much.) Endings bring about an opportunity for new beginnings, of course, but on their own, endings can be a relief or can be impossibly difficult. Sometimes we don’t want to let go, and we fight to keep things from ending. Sometimes things don’t want to let go of us, and we have to fight to move on.

My favorite book is like this. The ending wasn’t a surprise – it was an inevitable conclusion, and the book was a slow march toward it. But that didn’t make the ending any less gutting. It still brings me to tears, even after multiple readings. In fact, it’s been too long since I’ve read that book, and just thinking about how it ends makes me want to read it again.

Writing endings is difficult for me. It’s not that I can’t think of a good ending (usually, I can), it’s that I don’t want to let go. I never like to leave a character behind, particularly if there’s more story to tell (and unless the character dies, it feels like there’s always more story to tell). Maybe one day I’ll meet a character who lets me go, but until then, I’ll always wonder what else I can do with the ones I already know.

Beginnings are tough in their own way. They’re scary. Terrifying, in fact. I hate beginnings. Beginnings are like stepping off of a precipice into the unknown, and praying that something, someone, will catch you while you fall. Beginnings can be tied to endings, of course, but typically, they come on their own. I like to skip to the middle. There’s a book I adore that I’ve read so many times that I no longer read the beginning. I just skip to a random chapter in the late beginning/early middle of the book, so I can avoid the heartache of the back story.

In relationships, I find beginnings equally hard. Beginnings can be hot – passionate and thrilling – but they similarly can be awkward, uncertain, and fumbling. Some people enjoy that awkwardness. I do not.

I hate writing beginnings, too. That fumbling awkwardness always comes around in my first draft beginnings. It’s one of the reasons I enjoy flash fiction so much. I don’t have time to screw up a beginning, just march right on to the middle and the end, because I only have 500 words to do it right. I’m currently toying with an office romance story and the beginning just isn’t coming to me. One technique I use to get past this is to write a middle first – a sex scene between the two characters, typically – just to get a feel for who they are, and how they fit together. This can help drive my beginning.

Endings can be hard; beginnings can be hard. Nothing in life is easy. We just keep trucking the best we can.

Challenge #10 – A letter to my future self

A letter to my future self. This was hard. How do you write to someone who has lived through everything you’ve lived through and then some? I almost chickened out and wrote a letter to my past self. But here goes.

Dear future self,

How’s it going? At this point, I’ve sold three stories, and I’m on the verge of making some big changes in your life. Do they work out? Are you happy with Pet and your new arrangement? How did she take the surprise? Well, I hope.

I’m about to change jobs and I’m very happy about the change. I’m curious to see how it turns out. Do you get the contract job you’re hoping for? How was your summer?

Right now, I’m flying high, and I know that’s partially my crazy brain playing tricks on me. I hope you weather the storm that will inevitably follow. I also want to remind you of the cyclic nature of things, so if things are bad, know that they won’t be bad forever.

Good luck on book number four, and good luck with the changes.

Past Riley