The Ex Files...

We all have them, even if we never talk about them. They’re the ones who’ve shaped us, emotionally and sexually, the ones who haunt us occasionally and pepper our thoughts with ‘what if’s. Yes, I’m talking about exes.

There are all sorts of exes, and I’ll cover some of the key ones below, but I’ll bet you a pound to a penny that you have at least one Toxic Ex lurking in your past.

For the sake of ease I’ll be referring to the exes as male, but I’m fairly sure that all the types cross over to the fairer sex. I’m an equal opportunity bloggist, after all.

The Mirage Ex: You know the type I mean. You vaguely remember them, you’re sure you fucked them, but since you broke up they’ve vanished off the face of the planet and they didn’t leave that strong an impression when you were together. It’s almost as if, for a couple of months, you hallucinated that you were in a relationship.

The Friendly Ex: Now this ex actually splits into subdivisions. The basic premise is simple— an Ex to whom you still talk and occasionally see. Maybe you have mutual friends, sometimes you hear what they’re up to and you have no animosity towards him. Perhaps, like Chris Evans and Billie Piper, or Hugh Grant and Elizabeth Hurley, you’ve actually managed to salvage a genuine friendship from the wreckage. Just be careful no-one gets the wrong idea.
The subdivision would be the overly friendly ex: he calls just a little bit too often, makes obscene suggestions when he’s drunk. In fact he’s only just a step away from Obsessive Ex…

The Obsessive Ex: It ended years ago, but for some reason you’re still stuck with him. He calls you up all the time, you have the distinct impression that his occasional, pitiful, Facebook status update is about you and, every so often, he demands yet another autopsy of your long-since-failed relationship. Perhaps he’s merely lovesick, perhaps he thinks you’re an easier prospect than starting from scratch, but every so often he suggests that you give it another try, usually beginning in the bedroom. Either way you’re not going to go there and you often wish he had turned out to be a Mirage Ex.

The Booty Call Ex: This is basically an extrapolation of the friendly ex. You still talk occasionally and see each other for drinks, you’d introduce him to someone as a ‘friend’ rather than an ex, but every so often, when you’re both single and horny, you’ll meet up for a quick fuck to scratch the itch. You have no desire to get back with him, but the fact that he knows what pushes your buttons, added to the excitement of a ‘new’ partner, makes for an excellent booty call. You’ll keep his number, just in case…

The Toxic Ex: As with the Friendly Ex, this splits into two subdivisions- the Vindictive Toxic Ex and the Unknowing Toxic Ex.

The Vindictive Toxic Ex is like a sexually transmitted disease. Unpleasant, contracted after sexual relations, socially embarrassing and a possible threat to your current relationship. He pursues you every time you’re in a new relationship, sends you messages, flirts inappropriately and will not leave you alone. For your own part you know he’s bad for you and you try and avoid him, but it’s difficult in the face of his relentless pursuit. Even worse you have the distinct impression, if not actual proof, that he’s been telling things about you to mutual friends that you would rather they did not know. Who needs an enemy with an ex like this?

The Unknowing Toxic Ex is just as bad for you, emotionally, as the Vindictive sort, but this guy doesn’t even have to try. He’s the ex who you describe as ‘the one who got away’—the boyfriend you still regret losing. The feelings you had for him were deep and real and, no matter what reason ended your relationship, chances are it wasn’t your decision. He knows nothing about you now, you’ve been apart for years, but you’re still following him avidly. You look at his pictures through mutual friends on Facebook, Google his name, send him anonymous e-mails and dating site invitations and all the time know he never thinks of you at all. In fact, you have a sneaking suspicion that you’re rapidly falling into the role of Obsessive Ex.
Even a new love doesn’t quite heal the breach in your heart, because the love you had for your ex burned so brightly. All you can do is keep on keeping on and hope no-one ever finds out how much you still think about him.


I think everyone has a selection of these exes in their past but, as I said before, I’d bet anything that nearly everyone has a Toxic Ex. I know I do and he’s still poisoning me emotionally whenever I think of him. I’ve found my own treatment, however, that’s almost as good as a cure—I’ve written him into a story. Once I had him pinned to the page like a butterfly specimen I found I could shape and mould him into a completely new character. You know how they say familiarity breeds contempt? Well, having spent nearly a year writing him into a story I was more than familiar with him and I’ve had enough. If ever I feel myself softening towards him I just have to re-read the story and it’s like a vaccination—anti-Toxic-Ex!

Published!

Please let me know how you like it...

A Bad Influence for sale

In order to celebrate I am also running a competition to win a free copy of the book. All you have to do is comment here on the theme of 'A Bad Influence' - doesn't matter if the bad influence was you, someone else or just a story you heard from a friend, just go ahead and post. I will pick my three favourites and those will then go to a poll - so get posting! The competition will close next Monday.

x
~Emelia~

Going Straight: to porn or not to porn

The problems of being an erotic author are many and varied. This erotic author, for example, is seriously considering moving into the more generally accepted genre of romantic or ‘chick lit’ fiction, not least because then I could finally let my mum and dad read something I’ve written!

In fact, telling people is one of the biggest reasons I am considering moving into a more ‘acceptable’ area of fiction. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed. All my friends know I write erotica, as does my partner and my mother, but I can’t let them read anything I write, nor can I tell people at my volunteer work who ask me what I do. The follow-up question to “Oh, I’m an author” is always some variation of “Oh? What do you write?” A total nightmare if you’re in a very conservative situation.

Add to that the difficulty of getting it published in the real world – and I’m sorry, however wonderful e-publishing is, it’s just not the same as being in print – and the continual problems of finding new vocabulary for basic human anatomy and you have a rough idea of why non-sexual romantic stuff might be preferable for me.

Of course, the problem there is that I just write sex too damn well, and I bloody well enjoy it. For the time being I guess I’ll just have to continue typing away, producing marvellous works of literary genius that just happen to be filled with pages and pages of raunchy sex and deal with the consequences. Though, looking as sweet and innocent and I do, it’s always fun to drop a bombshell now and then.

“So Emelia, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I write porn…”

Priorities

Writing is my number one hobby and my most satisfying pursuit. That's why it's such a pity that it's right on the bottom of my list of priorities.

Things that come before my writing, and why.

-My family (because what's the point of anything else if you don't have family?)
-My friends (because they come just after family)
-Housework (because otherwise eurgh)
-Cooking (or we don't eat)
-Washing up (or I can;t cook the next meal)
-Shopping (or there's no food to cook)
-My health (everything before this has to be done whether I'm up to it or not)
-My Volunteer activities (because they're scheduled)
-My dance lessons (ditto)
-Writing comes somewhere here...

*sigh*

If anyone has a suggestion as to how I can re-jig things so writing falls higher up the list I would be very grateful to hear it. In the meantime my health has put the kibosh on everything so instead I am blogging about why I'm not writing. How productive is that? <-- not a rhetorical question...

Funny thing...

It's amazing how, when talking about sex (and therefore erotica) people tend to assume you're joking. I was at my volunteer organisation the other day - and no, I won't say which one - when someone asked to use my laptop. I ummed and ahhed for a second, having been editing a story whilst I waited for something to do, then told them to wait a second.

"OK, but don't go looking through my other files."

"Why? Got something to hide?"

"Sure," I replied, laughing, "I don't want you to read my erotica."

I leant over, saved and shut down the story in question.

"Oh dont worry about that," laughed the bloke who was about to use my laptop,. "Don;t you know me at all? I expect people to share stuff like that."

Thing is, right, he thought I was joking. If I had been a bloke there is no doubt that 'porn' would have been assumed, but no, I'm female, therefore I could only be joking about having x-rated material on my computer.

Oh well. It's a great help to my secret alter-ego. And by the way - if you want to throw people off the scent - it seems that the best way to hide is in plain view. Be bluntly honest and no-one will suspect you for a moment...

PS- even freakier someone accidentally called me Emelia (my writing pseudonym only) instead of my true name the other day. Gave me a bit of a funny turn, I can tell you - I thought someone had put 2 and 2 together and come up with a Googol...

The Reason Why...

I have set up this blog in order to promote my writing and to inform my 'fans' of new writing being published. I know this is a terribly dull first post, I promise I will try my best to remedy that.

I have been writing erotica for about two years now and, whilst I am hoping to eventually write some 'straight' novels, where sex is just an interesting side dish rather than the main course, I will probably always write erotica as well. I just enjoy it too much to stop. I love all sorts of different scenarios, setting them up so they're enticing and compelling and then carefully writing the sex scenes so that they lead the reader through the sexual act without launching them back into the real world through an incautious word or clumsy phrasing. I would simply love to be making some money from my writing. Not necessarily a living, because that might take the joy out of writing it, but a bit of extra money just to prove how much pleasure people get out of the work I've put into a piece - well - that would really mean something.

Please mark me as a favourite and come back to check my blog - I'll be having some work up for sale soon. In the meantime, here is a little excerpt to wet your whistle...

----------------------------

We sat chatting for a while, getting deeper and deeper into the bottle of vodka. The discussion was getting pretty intimate now, talking about sex and fantasies. Compared to them I felt pretty inexperienced and my fantasies seemed pretty tame, so I kept quiet and just listened. Mark’s deep, educated vowels rolled around Louise’s sweet, husky tones, whilst both of them vocalised sexual ideas that made me flush with embarrassment and desire.

Mark noticed how quiet I was – how I swayed to the music and he grabbed hold of my hands to pull me up. He put his arms around me – holding me up as much as holding me to him – and started swaying with me, his cheek against mine.

Softly he began to repeat my own fantasies back to me. Things I had told him on the phone, late at night, my tongue loosened by arousal, were now fed back to me in soft, husky tones, his breath caressing my ear as his lips almost touched it.

I was so drunk that everything had a dreamlike quality about it, but I was vaguely aware that he was speaking just loud enough for Louise to hear and she was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leaning forwards, her eyes fixed on me.

As I looked at her she got up – walking over to join us. Standing behind me she put her arms around my waist and leaned her cheek on my shoulder with her lips against my neck her body swaying with ours. Softly she added her own fantasies in my other ear, whispering against my neck the things she wanted to do to me. I was lulled into an erotic trance by the music, the movement, the alcohol and the whispering, the hypnotic whispering that swept through me like a chill.

I sighed when Louise’s hands slid under my top and stroked my stomach and, when she took hold of it and tugged it up I was compliant, allowing myself to be undressed. I could feel the slippery silk of her camisole top pressed against my naked back and the soft cotton of Mark’s t-shirt against my front.

Mark’s hands were stroking my hair and my upper back, whilst Louise’s stroked my belly and breasts. When her hands slipped downwards, under my waistband, I tensed for a moment but soon relaxed into the sleepy desire that overcame me and made me unable to resist her skillful fingers stroking and teasing me.

She seemed to be struggling to reach that most intimate part of me so, almost unconsciously, I pulled my stomach in so she could penetrate my clothing and finally touch me as I wanted her to. Realising it was impossible, I tried to reach down to undo my jeans, but Mark held my arms firmly around his neck, restraining me, as Louise slowly undid the buttons: each button a further step into arousal.

--------------------------------

The above is an excerpt from my novel-in-progress, For Love or Money, soon to be released on www.excessica.com