You wore your black leather skirt and matching black stockings, today, and a lace top covering your nudity just enough to tease him, our new slave. He is kneeling by the sofa while we sit on it, drinking coffee and chat, and he massages your feet. I ordered him to do so, and he started as soon as I asked. He is wearing only boxers, of course, because the first thing I asked him was to get naked. I wanted you to check his body, to see if he's suitable for you. And it's nice to see he has gotten excited as soon as he touched you. We make fun of him, you scold him, asking to massage you better, and I push his face against your feet ordering to kiss them. He follows my commands without faltering. You lift a leg closer to his face and I notice he raises his sight to try to get a glimpse of your pussy. He can't know it's covered with sexy black lace panties… but I do know, and I am so horny because of it; because he’s so close to seeing your sex. You hold my hand on the sofa, I ...
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A Map of Your Freckles Jodie had never felt too good about her body. Gorgeous green eyes, a bright friendly smile and her well-developed breasts weren't enough to overcome the uneasiness that she felt every time a man got close to her. Her unique, beautiful red hair - unfortunately - had come with a huge downsize: freckles; freckles everywhere. So many of them that there wasn't a spot in her body not covered by them. And because of that, even in her late twenties, she was still far to get enough self-confidence to be able to maintain a stable relationship. She was aware it was her fault to some extent, her problem. She knew there wasn't anything strange with them... that they were just a part of herself. And yet nobody had been able to lift her soul off her curse, so far. No man had been able to make her feel at ease, as she needed. Maybe she was wrong. As her friend had once told her, it was a problem she had to solve by herself, and then - only afterwards - look for a man to share her life with. Jodie wasn't sure about it. Because she ...
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The King of My World Of course, I was wet! The entire morning at the pool with him lying at my side; all the time looking at his muscular body - he complains about his little belly but I adore it! – and furtively caressing it while keeping an eye on our friends around, not to be seen adoring him so much. Bathing in the pool, playing with each other under the water, touching and teasing ourselves in a way I have never experienced in my life: with a smile on my face screaming the world my happiness. His way to play hide and seek, to hug me, making me feel his hardness, and then swim away leaving me there, needy, trembling with excitement. But all that playing had a purpose, of course. We knew we’d find a way to finally burn the passion that was growing inside us. I was trembling with anticipation when the others left us. They had other plans for the afternoon and we ended up alone, together, finally. It felt natural to hold his hand when he gave it to me out in the street, and yet it was such a new experience for me: ...
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Another First Time Her parents would not be happy, Paul thought, and yet that didn’t prevent him to put his plan into action. Indeed, Clare was the only daughter of a local politician that everyone knew in the city, a Conservative that used to spend his Sundays at the Church, one of those dads that forces his family to do the same even if they have no interest in religion. That was the case with Clare. And actually, the more her dad forced her, the more she grew distant from that man that she had once loved. That had been clear to Paul after a couple of weeks of their relationship when she had opened her heart and confessed her deepest desires to him. Among which, of course, there was a level of naughtiness that Paul had rarely seen in a girl. She had been controlled by her father since just a couple of months ago, and as such, she had never been able to be in a serious relationship. Not to say having proper sex with anyone. And now that her father was running for major and rarely at home, she had finally the time to discover herself. Paul ...
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Wattpad - My Experience So Far It took some time for me to choose the main social platform I was going to use to promote my brand, and in the end I decided for Twitter and Facebook first, added Wattpad later (tried Reddit, tried Inkitt, no good results). Here is my Wattpad Profile! Facebook and Twitter are a must, even if you don't use them, you must be present, and share some stuff if you want to build your brand. But what about specialized platforms like Wattpad? It has only 60+ million users, but they are all there to read, so if you are looking for readers, there's nothing better! Moreover, people will look for your books using keywords and search phrases: your new chapter will not be lost in a sea of advertising of different products and services, as it in on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Youtube... You have the possibility to personalize your author's profile to some extent, with links to your website or social platform. It allows you to use tags to make your book easily searchable. Statistics by age, gender and country, allow you to understand better which is the target of your writing, and use this ...
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Naughty Trial <a href='https://www.freepik.com/free-vector/silhouette-avatars-with-professional-style_1292971.htm'>Avatars designed by Freepik</a> ...
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A Fiendy Tale The princess had never had a friend - or better she couldn't remember having ever had one. She was still young and – at least the magic mirror said – pretty enough, but it had been long since she had last seen the outside world. Closed in the highest tower of the biggest castle of the region, where the evil Barabbablù had confined her, the only living contact she had was with her little, bat friend. It had started flying inside the tower one night when, due to the summer heat, she had left the huge windows open. He had just landed on her bed, close to her. She hadn't felt scared: it was so little, so cute with its yellow eyes and its pointy nose and fingers. She had soon taken a like to it, so much that, even if it was just an animal and he couldn't speak, she would tell him all about her fantasies, confide him all of her desires, her wishes for a future far from the castle and from the bad man that had recluded her inside that tower. Day after day, the bat had become her only friend. And as ...
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So, the last part of my first paranormal romance, Unbreakable Curse, is out, and I really hope all my readers have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It almost reached 30.0000 words: the longest erotic story I ever wrote, so far, and I have to say I'm happy with the result, even if there are lot of things to change if I'll ever want to publish it for real. Never mind, as someone once said, "It's not about the destination; it's about the journey", and I'm happy with what I learnt with this. Now, I will take a little break to write a thesis, to edit and publish a couple of original stories and to write another book I'm trying to finish. Don't expect any long story for a while. I'll still post my shorts, though. You find all Unbreakable Curse related posts under the relative tag, here. And of course on  my Wattpad, and Inkitt too ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 12 - Final Chapter When Ed woke up in the morning, he could feel something strange in the air. He tried to call for Maggie but got no answer. It wasn't the first time she hadn't shown herself, but this time - after what had happened the night before - it felt off. Ed looked around the entire apartment, nervous. It was Monday, though, and he had to go to the office. That day the usual morning meeting with his boss didn’t go as originally planned. They ended up not talking about customers at all and secretly whispering about the green notebook Ed had brought him. Edward asked to be kept out of the matter. The possible complications of him being found out by the culprits were something he didn’t want to suffer, even if he had felt the duty to denounce them. He explained to the boss he had by chance overheard a conversation between the manager and Rose and had started investigating by himself until he had realized there must have been some kind of evidence hidden in that office. Then he had found a way to sneak inside it, but he couldn’t give ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 11 "I love you," she said, sliding down her shoulders the strips of the nightgown that was still cladding her body. Edward, lying on the bed, felt a shiver down his spine. Even if the day hadn't been that good, the evening was feeling promising, already. Their Sunday had been strange: Maggie hadn't shown herself much to him, and he had been worried all day. In the end, even if she had said she didn't feel a thing about the girl of her past, she had appeared pensive when they had come back to the apartment. In the morning, there had been no trace of her, and only in the late afternoon, he had noticed the ghost floating around the flat. He had been disappointed because he had expected a completely different Sunday, but even if Maggie hadn't spoken much during the day, as soon as he had gone to bed she had made her intentions clear. He looked at her: she was as beautiful as ever. Her voice was already clear and thin, like the voice of the young woman she had been. Her body was white and solid, and he could see every detail ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 10 Ding-Dong, Ding-Dong The previous time Ed had been in Mrs Turner apartment he hadn’t had to ring the bell, and so the old-style bells played by a speaker close to the door – a strange touch of modernity in what was otherwise a building with an overwhelming stench of oldness – made him start. The door soon opened, anyway, and when he saw the old lady’s usual sullen eyes he had already forgotten his unease. If all, the loud sound of the bell had had a good effect on him: he wasn’t nervous anymore. The adrenaline rushing through his veins had peaked his senses, and brought him back to calm. He had pretended to be bold and sure with Maggie, but in reality, he was scared by that woman and he feared her reaction, faced with the possibility that the ghost of the legend she had told him may have always been there for real, in the building, since the day it had died. There was nobody else he could have confided that matter, though. He wanted to know if there was a possibility to bring Maggie back to this world, a chance for them ...
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Years ago, when I had just begun writing, I wrote a story about Vinita, an Indian girl, a spoiled rich brat with a thing for Nordic men. When a natural dominant Norwegian chauffeur is hired in her mansion, problems begin. The mansion balance of powers is shattered by his presence, and Vinita's frail will, too. It was my third story, and it got soon so long that it remained the longest I had written for a couple of years. It's also one of the only kind-of-BDSM story I've ever written. I never published it. But in 2018, I'd like to. The original title I gave to the story, though, was "White Dominance", and it has been flagged to me as racism-triggering. Now, the story is not about racism at all, and the title acquires a meaning when you read it. And yet, around 30% of the people I asked is saying that title does trigger, they'd not buy it because of that (I mean, read the blurb at least!). It's not important if the story is about racism or not... if I write those two words together, Social Justice Warriors will probably get against me. Fine, I'll not use that ...
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Yes, being this an erotic writer's blog you may think I refer to my "first time", in the common sense of the term. But No; today I'll write about the first time I remember I wrote. There are three such occurrences in my life: My First Try The first time I tried, it happened when I was around fourteen. I remember I was fixated on the Fantasy genre, and as such, I was reading Tolkien, Brooks, Moorcock, M.Z. Bradley, and so on. It was a great journey, that somehow lead me to think writing a book was going to be a simple task. Well, I was fourteen, and as such very naïve. I spent days creating my own fantasy world, my own characters and plot (yes, I was a planner already!) but once I began writing the actual first chapter... I was completely blocked. At the time, I was easily distracted by other things and so I simply left the project somewhere to rot. So, this doesn’t actually count as a first try, right? BTW, I was using my native language, Italian. My Second Try This time, I was already in my middle twenties. I used to read a lot ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 9 "I believe you, and I'll need your help!" His confession, the evening before, had created the effect he had hoped. Maggie had appeared at his side from the early morning the day afterwards, and they had spoken and cuddled while the dawn slowly coloured the world, until it was time for Ed to go to work. "What kind of help?" she asked. "Yesterday you spoke about a notebook, can you describe it to me?" "Mmmm…” the ghost mumbled, as if to recall from her memories, “It was a small notebook - an address book maybe? – and I think it was green. He took it from above the desk and when Rose… when she had finished… he put it away inside a drawer. I didn't check what was written on it, though." "Would you go inside that office again and check the notebook’s location, today? We'll then meet in the bathroom before lunch-time, and you'll tell me where it is, OK? I have a plan." They didn't speak about that matter much, anymore. Ed left and reached the office, where he spent the morning trying to concentrate on his clients, without being able to do ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 8 The following morning Ed woke up as happy as he had ever felt, in the past months. Maggie wasn't around, or at least - as it happened often when the morning light illuminated the apartment that much – she wasn’t visible. That meant he was alone, or at least he could pretend to be. For a change, he took his time to fry ham and eggs and toast two slices of bread. Indeed, it was long since he had had the desire and the drive to prepare for himself such a treat. The day, as such, started well. The morning in the office went by meeting after meeting, during which Maggie didn't appear. He knew she was there, though, and when he finally had time to go to the toilet just before lunch-time, he wasn't surprised when he noticed her presence floating a little afar. Well, it was long since he had last been embarrassed by her presence even in his most intimate moments, so he didn't really pay attention to it until she spoke. “I was wondering,” she began, “I've been following you for weeks and I think I understand something about your job ...
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Yes, I often write the first part of my stories starting from an image I find on the internet. But what about the other parts? I don't want to re-use the same image, and I have to find something significative enough. It's a quest. Sometimes I have to resort to create the images by myself, modifying images to get to an acceptable result. Unbreakable Curse images While "In All Possible Ways" had been a challenge already, because of the 11 parts I had to find suitable images for,"Unbreakable Curse" is really pushing me to the edge, regarding to this matter (remember I'm no graphic designer!). It's a long story (it may get past 11 parts, but it's already longer than "In All Possible Ways", now), hence I need lot of different images to use for each part. I can easily say, 10% of the time I put into a single part, is dedicated to searching and creating the post image. The main issue is that there aren't that many usable photos on the internet, depicting a ghost. Because ghost don't actually exist, of course. So... there are drawings, but I don't want them: I want real people, I want naked ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 7 That night Maggie disappeared and didn’t answer to Ed’s calls. He had so many questions, so many doubts, that he didn’t manage to sleep until late night. As a result, he tried everything to get asleep: he tidied up the room from the mess Maggie had done, he tried to read a comic without - of course - being able to concentrate on it at all. In the end he resorted to a bottle of whiskey he had long forgotten unopened. The next the morning he felt like shit. His head ached, his body didn’t want to move. The half-consumed bottle of whiskey on the desk and the cramps in his stomach were telling him he’d drunk too much. For the first time since ages, he called sick at work and spent the day home. Most of the morning sleeping and trying to get better, then after lunch answering important customer emails. By the evening, he was feeling good again, but the fact Maggie had not appeared since the evening before had started to bug him. "Maggie, come out, fuck!" he yelled, "I need to speak with you, it’s important!" But there was no answer ...
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This is the first post of a new series that I'll try to keep "alive" in the future: "The Author Speaks". What I'll share here are insights about my writing style, my characters, problems to solve, plots and so on. The Main Characters of Unbreakable Curse Today we'll begin with a little knowledge about Ed and Maggie - Edward and Margaret - the main characters of the long story I'm currently writing: Unbreakable Curse. The story is probably the longest I wrote on this blog, up till now; as such, it requires a little more "3D" (as would my editor say) characters. They must be more complex than usual, and their behaviours and overall character must make sense in the story and match with the events. Not an easy feat to achieve. Edward Ed is a lonely man, disappointed by the things life brought him so far. He lives alone, doesn't like social life too much either. He's old enough to live alone, and even if his parents live just a couple of minutes away, the apartment he rented in the old building is what he feels like "home". As every healthy man he has a woman he likes, a ...
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So, 2017 brought me this new writing adventure and - with it -  lots of stories that were only waiting to be written; not to tell heaps of new friends, for which I'm very grateful. I really loved all of your comments, critiques, visits. Every like on my Facebook page and every retweet,  every review on my wattpad. Thank you! That said, I didn't meet all my goals, in 2017. That's why I'm writing it here,  my 2018 resolution: I'll publish 10 stories, and a book (though this last,  probably  with a different pen name). Next year,  I'll see if I managed to meet my goals, this time. I wish all of you,  my friends and readers,  a wonderful and successful 2018,  filled with the best stories,  the ones that fill your  heart first, your lust then. Max ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 6 The realization Maggie had had such a harsh life had made her more real than before, in Ed's eyes. In the past days, she had asked him more than once if anything was wrong because, for a few times, he had got distracted by his own thoughts while looking at her. In fact, he had found himself looking at her and wondering what would happen if she’d remembered everything about her life. He wondered even if he was meant to be the one supposed to tell her. Maybe that was the role destiny had reserved for him, in her story. “The legend of the chained bride”, though, was yet to come to an end, and Edward - with mixed feelings, having grown fond of her - had decided to give it a try. It wasn't easy as he thought. He wanted to do some research on the topic, but Margaret was always with him. Doing it in secret meant he had to use his smartphone device that - he had noticed – had strangly no allure on her. Day after day, evening after evening, he read books and websites on the small device, without coming ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 5 After the events of that night, for a couple of days, Edward felt strangely satisfied, and as such nothing happened. Ten days passed, and his life took over, again. Rose was still in his thoughts, but at work, he had too many things to do, and no time to meet her. Actually, she was working on different projects than his and as such, he had no other way to see her but at the coffee machine. In these days, though, she was spending most of the time in the office of one of the managers of the firm, with whom she had started working more closely in the last weeks, and rarely spent time in the leisure room. Maggie wasn’t showing herself at the office much either since he was almost always working with someone. At least, his career seemed to have taken a good turn: his boss, one of the owners of the law firm, had started giving him small clients to manage in semi-autonomy. That was the reason for all the meetings: they needed to discuss the strategies for those customers the boss was migrating to him. In the boss’s idea, he would ...
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Well, it may have happened to you too: you begin writing a story and you are absolutely into it. You write for days, possessed by your muse and then, at some point...  No inspiration, no words, no ideas. Nothing anymore. You realize the story as you imagined it, has flaws. Well, wanna hear a secret? Every story has flaws. In the beginning at least. The Real Reason Why You're Stuck If you are stuck in the middle of your story and you lost your hope and will, there can be only one deep reason, apart from the mythological writer's block: you don't know what you are supposed to write anymore. Because you realized you were on the wrong path, maybe. Now, that's something that can happen both to planners - like me - or to pantsers, and for both types of writers, I think the key is forcing yourself to focus only on that single story, for some time. That could sound strange to you: too many other writers in such moments suggest to leave the story aside for some time and dedicate yourself to write something different. I disagree. Get yourself some time to focus on that single story ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 4 The next day Maggie didn't appear until evening. While working, while travelling on the bus and while having meetings, though, Ed couldn't get the ghost out of his head. He knew she was there, he knew she was listening to him, watching over him. He had problems even going to the bathroom, and in the end, he had managed only to pee that day, in the only urinal in a corner of the toilet, protected by the intimacy of the walls on two sides, looking furtively around to check for any sign of her. It didn’t matter he knew the ghost could see through walls. What it mattered, was for him to feel secure, alone, in his world. He didn't know how he managed to work, but as soon as he exited his workplace he felt all the accumulated stress from the day. And yet, even if it was already dark outside, there was no tangible trace of her near him. Could it be she had told him a lie and had stayed home? That was unlikely. Maggie had no reason to lie. Once home, exasperated, he called out to her. "I know you're there ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 3 "What the f-" Ed jumped up from the toilet seat, opened the door and turned around to look. Above the toilet, there was the same faint, white shadow that had been present moments before in his room. "Why are you here?" He shouted, quickly pulling on his pyjama pants, to cover his already softening erection. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you, Edward," the voice said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... It seems that even if you're a ghost used to scaring people, those are your most used words," he said, his face red with anger, "Just give me some fucking privacy, would you?" He turned around and went straight to the kitchen, without looking back. He definitely needed a tea, now, or he'd go mad. The ghost followed him there, too. "Alone… So you can do that thing?" the girl asked. "So I can do whatever the hell I want to do!" Edward yelled in the direction of the voice. He couldn't see any white shadow there, now, and didn’t know if it was because of the stronger light in the kitchen, or the ghost had just decided not to be visible to him ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 2 The following day, Edward went straight to work. As always, he was among the first to arrive at the office. Waiting for him, on his desk, tons of paperwork he would have had to manage throughout the day. Sometimes, it seemed he was the one in charge of the most clients, and yet nobody was acknowledging his hard work. Like every day in the recent months, by the evening he was feeling very nervous and frustrated. But at least, his problems at work had had him forgetting about his problems at home, for most of the day. Coming back home after work, though, wasn’t the easiest thing to do. This time the wooden gate felt heavy with fear and uncertainty, not tiredness. But Mrs Turner wasn’t there to scold him, so he felt free to shut the gate with a loud bang, in a sort of way to dispel his nervousness. He knew it wasn’t the gate’s fault, though, and a strange feeling quickly took possession of him again as he climbed the stairs, inserted the key in his apartment’s door and opened it a crack. He looked inside, nothing felt off so he pushed ...
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Today we talk about the book metadata: all the descriptive information you should prepare to be ready to publish your book on Amazon, and other platforms. As you've noticed, I just finished my journey to publishing my first, short novelette on Amazon, so I'm fresh on the topic. On a Sunny Day I'll slowly prepare a summary post about the various steps that - in the past year - led me to the publication, hopefully it'll be useful for all authors out there. This is one of the key tasks every self-published writer should take care of. What is the Book Metadata? Book metadata are all the texts, videos and images describing your book, on various level. We'll focus on text metadata in this post, but advertising banners like the one I prepared for my book launch are something you should think of - and prepare - in advance, too. The Basic Text Metadata You Need For my tales/books, I prepared a template I usually fill beforehand, containing all the data I need to create my book on Amazon KDP, and more. You can download it from here: Amazon Metadata - Sample. *** I usually fill the metadata slowly, as ...
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Unbreakable Curse - Part 1 The old wooden gate leading to the courtyard felt heavier than usual that evening, and as he pushed it, Edward realized he was very tired. He opened it just enough for his body to slide between the doors but miscalculated. The heavy door bounced back too soon and hit his ankle. “OUCH!” He screamed, and before the pain hit him in full force he managed to kick the door with anger, “Fucking door! Fucking, FUCKING DOOR!” When he saw the shadow behind him, it was too late to stop. He turned around as if nothing had happened, wore a nice smile and, with nonchalance, he walked away pretending his leg was fine. “Good evening, Mrs Turner,” he greeted her. The old woman was not used treating people gently. Always grumpy, always complaining about any little matter. Edward didn’t like her and as such, had always tried to maintain a safe distance from her. “You better not ruin the door, boy, or I’ll add the fee to your rent!” she yelled at his back. Yes, she was the owner of the building, or at least the person in charge of managing it. That was why he ...
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There's nothing as sad as an author who has lost his writing. Hours and hours of thinking, writing, sweating... all thrown in the bin of regret, because you didn't spend one day to understand what to do to protect your work? Think: computers are machines made by man, software is made by men. There's not such a thing as a perfect machine. Backup Everything, Always That's why you should dedicate some time to understand what is a backup, and learn how to do it effectively. What is a backup? It's a - not too old - copy of your work you can access in case you lose your original work. In the old days - and I mean the very old days -  a backup copy of your work was done by scribes, who would manually copy your book on parchments. In the early PC days, when they started to become mainstream (let's say 80s and 90s, before the internet and at its beginning), you would do a backup of your work copying it on a Floppy Drive (the save icon!), later on a Flash USB Disk. When internet became mainstream a useful way to backup your data was sending ...
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We already spoke on more occasions about the importance of a clear Brand Identity, especially when it comes to up-selling. Why Do You Need a Brand Identity? In short, if a reader of yours likes one of your books, he should be able to recognize the others pretty easily. This is something publishers use a lot, of course, to visually group books of the same series for instance. There are books, in every library, that you can buy without thinking too much because you recognize their style and you know it's likely you'll like them. To recognize the style, though, all those books must have a visible, common thread. And what's the thing you see first, in a book? That's right, it's the cover. Build Your Own Brand Identity Let's suppose you just wrote a book and you are going to publish it. You are a writer, and as such you don't think you'll stop at the first book: others will come in the future, and you'll want all of them to be recognizable by the readers of the first one. This means that  the right moment to think about your Brand Identity is not after a couple of book: ...
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The time for my first publication - On a Sunny Day - is approaching quickly, and as such I'm a little busy with the preparations (all of which will end up in later posts about self-publishing, of course). With the publication of "On a Sunny Day" I decided to revamp my Home Page, and in particular the very, very ugly banner slider at the top. It's too big, it's too simple, it's too... too... bad. Well, the new one is on the way. That said, I needed a banner to promote my tale and as such, I decided to create my own, based on the cover design that my friend Lucy did for me. This is what I managed to do: It's not finished yet: price is missing and probably some changes will occur. Also, I'm no designer, so the above is - surely - not a quality product. That said, as I was creating it I came across a problem: where do I find a GIMP or Photoshop template for fake books and tablets? I searched and searched until I found the life-saver: Covervault. This guy is a genius, a benefactor, an angel. He provides us FOR FREE an ...
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This is mostly a reminder for me than a post for all of you, but you may find it very interesting. If one of your dreams is to see your book transposed into a movie, this article explains very well how to write a screenplay: the rules, the formatting, the tricks not to appear like an amateur. Give it a read. You never know... your dream may come true if you put enough effort into it. https://www.writersstore.com/how-to-write-a-screenplay-a-guide-to-scriptwriting/ ...
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Last week we saw how we can boost a Facebook post to try to reach more people, the basic rules to follow and how they affect advertising for an erotic book. At some point, if you remember, I wrote that there was a better way to do what we were doing. Indeed, there is. In the first two experiments, I tried to target my audience using the basic tools that the Facebook Boost interface gives to the page admin. But it wasn't enough for my needs. Of course, if you write in English and you want to focus on a particular target, suitable for your audience, choosing English speaking countries and housewives who like to read (pretty much every one of them?) doesn't provide the right level of precision. I needed more powerful tools, and Facebook Adverts Manager seems exactly what I was looking for. So, I absolutely recommend using Facebook Adverts Manager to create and manage your Ads and your Boosts posts. It allows you full control on your campaigns, budget, targeting. And even if you still don't know it, you definitely need it. (The boosted posts from the Facebook page are NOT visible in the Adverts Manager, at this ...
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My first published story is getting along pretty well, and as such I've been studying a little about marketing. Indeed, marketing for an erotic author is not easy, especially when it comes to advertising on the common platforms: they don't want you or they want you to keep a low profile. But since I think part of a marketing strategy should be dedicated to advertising, I decided to start experimenting with Facebook post boosting, with the current aim to grow my reader's base on that platform, nothing more (I have still nothing to sell, indeed!). Facebook is not the best when it comes to promoting erotic content because of its strict rules about what is possible to boost and what's not. Promoting erotica inside those boundaries is difficult and this experiment was bound to fail, in many ways. But on the other hand Facebook has a good way to control your advertisement, and measure the success - or not - of your campaigns, so why not to try? Remember: my aim, here is to provide failure-success cases (in this and the following posts about the topic) that focuses on "erotic books advertisement". Pretty much everything, anyway, should  be applicable to ...
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I happened to come across this article about short stories: that seemed to have quite a following. Does writing short story really differs from longer ones when it comes to choosing the words? Should words in a short story really summarize better a meaning that you'd describe with longer sentences in a long story? No, I don't think the facts are related at all. Writing a short story literally and simply means to write a story that covers less events, a shorter time-span. A story that has less to tell to the reader. Choosing the right words Choosing the right words is a must for both short and long stories. Words are emotions. Sentences are music. In poetry, thought, the right words have to be different because poetry has a unique relationship with metric and musicality, compared with the prose in a (short or long) story. "No Filler Words"? No, I can't agree with that. In a short story you can use filler words, even useless sentences. Even useless subplots, theorically. And simply as that, the more you want to describe events the longer your story will be. It's a matter of story-time and/or discourse-time It's What happens versus How it ...
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In All Possible Ways “I’m fed up! You don’t know what you are talking about: sex is fantasy, and fantasy is woman!” Dana said, almost shouting in direction of her colleague. For the past week, she had been arguing with Rick about who of them had more imagination during their hot encounters. They had never been together, of course, they were just colleagues and had never been intimate in any way. Not even with words, until a week before when by chance, drinking a coffee alone in the coffee room of their office, the topic had arisen. “And I’ll tell you again - and every woman that had sex with me can confirm - that sex with me is never the same,” replied back Rick, calmly. “I respect women, but I push their boundaries more than they can even imagine.” “Oooh, you’d never have any boundaries to push with me!” Dana proudly said, without realising she was getting caught in Rick’s trap. “And you’re ready to prove it, I bet.” There was a moment of silence, in which Dana waited for a smile, a laugh, a pat on her back or any sign meaning that Rick was joking. But nothing: ...
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As many of you have probably noticed by now, even if I try hard to keep my short stories "short", I'm often unable to do it. It happened with the last one, Slightly Untuned, that reached 11.500 words. It happened with The Impertinent Masseuse, that reached almost 7.000 words, while In All Possible Ways reached 13.500 words. I mean, 13.500 words: way far from the initial 500-1000 words target that I had meant for my short stories. Of course, it doesn't count that I do split them into parts. Too often the parts have no meaning if I keep them short; too often there is nothing erotic in them... since there is a long build-up before any action between the main characters. And I'm an erotic author, most of my stories should contain something erotic. I'm not sure I'm achieving this. Complete stories in one place Anyway, what I want to write about - tonight - is something different. I decided to re-publish the longest stories I wrote in single, dedicated posts that will contain the entire tale. In a new, dedicated category: Complete Long Erotic Stories I just began, re-posting "Slightly Untuned" in such a way. Other stories will eventually ...
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Slightly Untuned As long as he could remember, Leon had never liked to be among unknown people. He had never liked parties too much; he had never liked to go to the cinema – closed in such a tigh space with nowhere to run – or to the disco. But there was an exception to the rule: concerts. In his life, Leon had spent more time on a guitar than on anything else. He loved music and he was well aware of the appeal that live music had on him. Every time he went to a concert, he could feel again all those lost emotions from the time when he was the one on the stage, playing the guitar and singing with his former rock band. That’s why his friends had never problems convincing him to tag along with them and as such, that night, he had tagged along again. He had felt a little uncomfortable on the line to buy the tickets, but once inside the club he had soon felt at home. The Base Club had been built a couple of years before in the basement of a historical building in the centre of the small city. It ...
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Today I came across someone happily promoting his latest book posting the cover on a famous Facebook group. The book seemed printed, but I hope it wasn't because in both the front and the back of the cover there were very, very bad grammar mistakes.  "Too" had been used instead of "to", "your" instead of "you're". I found it sad, and shameful. Really. Then today I came across this post, and I felt I totally agree with them: if you don't care about (not only) grammar you don't care about writing. If You Don’t Care About Grammar, You Don’t Care About Writing What about my grammar? Don't get me wrong: I know my grammar is all but perfect. That's the reason while - for my books - I seek the help of native English editors and proofreaders, because I know how important it is to provide my readers with the quality they deserve if they have paid for my books. My blog stories are a completely different matter, of course: I could never afford an editor to take care of them on a daily base. And English still remains just a language I mostly self-learnt, and as such far from ...
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Slightly Untuned - Part 5 - End His car had never felt so slow, like that night. The sky was already dark, and the dispersed clouds covered the thin sickle that was left of the moon. The sparse lights along the road blurred away as he speeded in the short stretch of highway that connected the two cities. Leon’s foot was so deeply pressed on the accelerator, that after some time it became numb. When he got to her address, though – and it took some time for him to remember the exact street -, her house was as dark as the night. No lights, no trace of anyone being there. It wasn’t despair, what he felt. It was something in-between sadness, melancholy and resignation. The awareness of all those past and future memories he had just lost. In that moment he knew that he really was a loser - as Rory had called him -, he knew he had lost his chance to meet Susan for the last time. And when he realized he was going to be hated by that girl for the rest of his life, when he understood there was no chance to speak with her ...
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As of today, I begin a new project: I Write You. You may use the form below to submit me a short description of one of your secret fantasies. A set-up, an event, a game... whatever. Periodically, I'll choose one of the submitted ideas and I'll write one of my short stories for you. Try me! I'm up for everything! I need only a couple of lines for a general idea and a name that I'll put in the title for your reference (can be made-up, of course, if you want to keep anonymous). Then follow me here, on twitter or facebook: the time to see your secret fantasy become true has finally come! Salva Salva Salva ...
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Slightly Untuned - Part 4 Leon and Susan slept only for a couple of hours. When he woke up, due to the fact he had drunk quite a lot at the club too, he absolutely needed to pee. During the night, though, they had both changed position and the result was Susan’s head resting on his lap. She had probably snuggled up to him to get some warmth, as he had completely forgotten about looking for a blanket the night before and the morning was, indeed, as chilly as the night had been. He looked down at her: ruined makeup all over her face, black eye bags and her lips slightly opening and closing as she slightly snored. Nobody would have liked a girl like that, and yet it was in this moment that she was the prettiest, for him. As she slept, she was the same girl he had met years before, with the same tender and a little nerdy face. As nice as it was to look at her, though, he really needed to go to the toilet. He placed a palm below her head to prevent it falling on the sofa too hard, then slid to the ...
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Slightly Untuned - Part 3 Susan lived in a town nearby and it took no more than twenty minutes to get there. When the GPS notified their arrival, they were in an area composed mostly of small, two-storey, colourful townhouses. Her one seemed to be a shade of orange but Leon wondered if it wasn’t actually pink. The low, warm yellow lamps on the street – the only source of illumination around – could be playing tricks to his vision as had happened at the Big See that night already. A green front yard separated the entire strip of townhouses from the street. Each house had its own decorations: trees, bushes, flowers. Susan’s one had two lines of roses adorning the sides of the path leading to the door. “It’s here, right?” He said turning to Susan, and only then he realized she had fallen deeply asleep. Indeed, it was long since he had retracted his hand from her naked leg, and there had been no word between them since. “Hey, Susan?” He tried again, poking at her shoulder, but got no response. He sighed, wondering how he was supposed to wake her up. “Suuuusaaaaan…” He tried again, raising his ...
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For someone, the question doesn't even apply. I mean, you are from England, from America, from Ireland... you grew up speaking native English, you'll likely write in that too. I envy - almost - all of you. Common mortals like me and - let's say - around 25% of the rest of the world, speak a language that is spoken by less than 150 million people. It's still enough of an audience, of course, but other things matter. I'll tell you what I took into consideration when choosing the language I write in. How do I choose which language to write in? My native language is Italian. My English is actually mostly self-taught and, as such, it'll never be that good. Never. I speak other languages too, but when faced with the possibility to become an author, I had mainly two options:

1. Italian
2. English

And so, I gave a look to the pros and cons of the two. Italian Pros:

• It is my native language.
• I know more words than I can even imagine and ever use (no, that's a joke, there's always time to learn new words even in your native language)
• I can do most ...
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Slightly Untuned - Part 2 After a couple of seconds, Leon dared to look in her direction again. Susan: why did he think about that name? Did he really know that girl? He couldn’t recall. He looked at her from afar. The floor just below the stage seemed to be her natural environment: she danced, jumped, threw her head and body back and forth, right and left careless of the bruises she was surely gaining with her performance. There, among the other people, with the loud music feeling her to the core, the girl was evidently in her element. A push from the side remembered him he was still in the middle of the chaos, and the song had not come to an end. Then he got caught again by the rhythm, the music, the moshing, and he forgot about the girl on the other side of the hall. When the concert finished, Leon took some time to try to find his two friends, without success. Tim and Sean had disappeared somewhere, and the only thing it seemed he could do was waiting for them. Tim, in fact, was the one with the car. He hoped he wasn’t sleeping somewhere ...
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Slightly Untuned As long as he could remember, Leon had never liked to be among unknown people. He had never liked parties too much; he had never liked to go to the cinema – closed in such a tigh space with nowhere to run -  or to the disco. But there was an exception to the rule: concerts. In his life, Leon had spent more time on a guitar than on anything else. He loved music and he was well aware of the appeal that live music had on him. Every time he went to a concert, he could feel again all those lost emotions from the time when he was the one on the stage, playing the guitar and singing with his former rock band. That’s why his friends had never problems convincing him to tag along with them and as such, that night, he had tagged along again. He had felt a little uncomfortable on the line to buy the tickets, but once inside the club he had soon felt at home. The Base Club had been built a couple of years before in the basement of a historical building in the centre of the small city. It ...
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A World for Sara She spread her legs and arched her back to lift her ass a little. That was Sara’s way to invite her man inside her, to tell him “This is yours, use it as you wish!” Oh, she loved the feeling of those few seconds she waited for him to touch her. She never knew what was going to come, until his fingers grazed her ass, or her clit, or slid all the way inside her wetness. Sometimes, instead of her sex, her man would smack her ass, sometimes e would look at her for minutes, and she would feel embarrassed knowing he could see her wetness gathering between her lips, her body trembling in anticipation. It was part of her pleasure, knowing he was having fun with her. That’s why Sara moaned so hard at each of his touches: she really, genuinely loved all of it. Her eyes were now open, fixated on the outside. From the window in front of her, she could see the world, and the world could – if it wanted – see her. It was thrilling. Sara felt his breath close to her and smiled, this time knowing a little in ...
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Once you finish writing your story, before sending it to your beta-readers or your editor (BTW, also before actually publishing it!) you should remember to do at least one consistency check. What's consistency about? Is what you wrote consistent through the different scenes/chapters of your book? If not, that could confuse or mislead your reader. Yes, a good editor will catch most of them, a fantastic editor will catch all of them. But think about your beta-readers: do you really want to give them such an unfinished product? Aren't you a perfectionist, after all? 😉 Thus, there are a lot of types of inconsistencies you need to check for. Characters' names Confusing Tod with Todd, or Ryan with Ray, is something that can easily happen. Moreover, when you change those names half-way, a simple find-and-replace will not work properly and will leave sections untouched. In your head, the new name will be associated with the same character of Tod/Todd. You may not easily notice the missing replacement. Locations name and placement You probably made up a lot of names, write them down! Write down the address of your MC, the address of his friends, the address of the restaurant they ...
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“There’s no thing as a Happy Place!” Page the cottage shouted in the direction of Gunter the ladder. “For ze Hundrez time, me tellen you zere is, und vee life in it!” he pointed out, with his typical German accent. “You’re telling me this God-forsaken little cup is a happy place? The Happy Place? You must be kidding me!” “No, nein! Me svear, vee haf a sign heer, und zay exakt zat: Happy Place” Every day the old, same story. Gunter was getting angry. “I see just two bars of bad-mannered wood, there, nothing else.” Page said, and be sure she would have reddened with rage if only she could have. “Zat’s bekause you looken at zat from behind, kome heer!” “If I fucking could! I’m stuck, they must have used too much glue to stick me to the synthetic grass!” “Zo Vat? Me kannot reech zee sign eizer. Hov vill vee settlen zis?” “Ehm… mm… cough, cough…” Flo the flower tried to seek the two contenders’ attention. “WHAT’S THE MATTER NOW?” They both yelled, exasperated. And strangely enough, Gunter the ladder had no accent. Flo had always thought he was just faking it, anyway. There was no way he ...
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Rosetta had never talked to that man too much, even if he had been her tenant for a couple of months already. The small apartment she had inherited from her grandmother and that she had rented him was on the seventh floor, under the roof, at the top of the building, out of the sight of indiscreet eyes and out of the reach of irascible ears. That has to be said, because the man she couldn’t even remember the name now of, answering to the questioning of the police, was a musician. He was used playing the piano all day, and she remembered he had been very happy when he had seen that studio on the top floor. It had been difficult for him to find a place where the neighbours were willing to tolerate his performances. Indeed, he used to play all day, from morning to evening. He used to play even in the night every now and then, usually slow, melancholic melodies that drifted out of the oriel window to reach even her ears, at the first floor. She had never been particularly attracted to music, and yet the notes played by that man charmed her. She had ...
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I’m looking through the keyhole, again. I know I shouldn’t do this. I know I shouldn’t get lost in pleasure I cannot obtain. Not in this way, not like this. Society consider this taboo; considers this a sin. But what can I do, besides being myself? I like me - mostly. If there is a little price I have to pay to be the person I want to be, I’m glad to pay it. Knelt in the corridor of the office - the darkness of the late night protecting me from prying eyes – I spy on them, one again. This is the only reason I stay late in the office, so often. Nobody knows it, of course, they always compliment me because I work so hard…. If they only knew the real me. I stay late and I wait. I lurk in the darkness - after almost everyone has left the office - and when the time comes I choose the door. Yesterday it was Monday, and so it was my boss’s one. He always “works late” on Monday, together with his personal assistant. Indeed, they worked – out - a lot, yesterday night. At first, she knelt in ...
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