I wrote two short stories early in my career and they're some of the most erotic I've written. In the recent years, my stories have lightened up, become more mainstream with hot love scenes. So when I re-read these early stories I was very pleasantly reminded with how much I loved writing them.
The second erotic short I wrote was intended for a Whiskey Creek Press Torrid anthology titled Lust. I was invited to contribute by Emma Wildes. In that antho, the story was Mercenary Desires. It was republished by Siren and is now self-pubbed with a new title and new cover.
The inspiration for this hot story was something not very "hot" at all. It was winter and cough medications were advertised on TV. One particular commercial caught my eye. A unattractive fellow coughed all day long, irritating his co-workers. Someone offered him a cough drop and poof!, he turned into a non-coughing hunk. A story popped/poofed! into my head. An ugly, bearded, beat up looking man rescues a beautiful woman from danger. Hint: he cleans up nicely.
Here's the blurb to Her Hero: Rowdy Pierce-warrior. Sara Stewart-artist. Macho mercenary rescues posh jewelry designer. Their lives collide in an spectacular rescue and escape across the Egyptian desert. Sara falls for her sexy, body-to-die-for hero and makes the first move. Rowdy, fascinated by the luscious, sweet-bodied, free-spirited woman he saved, takes what Sara offers. He doesn’t expect to lose his heart. Will their lust turn to something deeper back in the real world?
And an excerpt
Sara Stewart fought back the horror of this nightmare. Jewelry designers from Chicago weren't generally kidnapped and held hostage on vacation.
Suddenly, no one was on top of her, the attacker thrown against the far wall of the hut. Terrified and freezing cold in the nighttime of the Egyptian desert, she hugged her knees tightly to her chest. In this room, she'd been punched in the stomach, slimy fingers had squeezed her breasts, and she had bruises up and down her arms and legs. She knew it would be bad when the guy slapped her face and slammed down on top of her. He was going to rape her, and she wasn't about to let him.
She could breathe again. Dazed, part of her mind wondered why she wasn't screaming. It felt like her own heart stopped beating when the man viciously slit her attacker's throat and wiped the knife on the dead man's clothing. He straightened, and then turned to look at her with a crazed, blood lust expression in his eyes. Did this guy kill his buddy so he could take his turn? Well, she'd fight him off to her last breath, if she had to.
Her mouth hung open as she looked up and up to find the man's face. Wild hair, beard streaked with gray, and a black eye freaked her out when she thought she was numb. The man loomed above her, legs parted, white-knuckled fists clenching aggressively. In camouflage pants and shirt, and big brown boots, he looked every bit as ugly and dangerous as her vile captors. Whoever he was, why ever he was here, she'd kick, scream, and scratch him too. He may be bigger and stronger, but he wouldn't get an easy rape.
The man slowly crouched down to her eye level. She barely breathed, bravado almost deserting her. Green. Her captors were dark-eyed. This man's were green. In the flickering light, his warm eyes glowed with bits of gold and rust in the irises.
"It's okay now. You're safe, Miss."
Her Hero is available for sale here - http://amzn.com/B00TKXN6KO
Loving Valentine was the first short story I ever wrote. A critique group I was a member of had a challenge on Valentine's Day to write a snippet based around a red satin, heart shaped pillow. Some of the others wrote a scene like a couple floating in a canoe down a scenic river, the heroine's head resting on the satin pillow. I wrote what became the opening scene of Valentine's Day, as it was titled when first published in 2006.
"Val, baby, open your eyes," Rafe demanded, his voice raspy with lust.
She felt him slide her little red satin, heart shaped pillow under her. Yes. That was just perfect to hike her bottom up, level with his lips. He was so tall, and she wanted to do whatever necessary to aid him in his mission.
"God, Rafe, pleeeeze," she whimpered. All her erotic fantasies coming true, Valentine quivered in anticipation. Stretched out, her bottom balanced on the edge of the bed, her legs tightened around her brother's best friend's shoulders, she panted for deliverance. Thankfully, she didn't have long to wait.
Their eyes locked on each other's, Rafe's mouth clamped around her clit, and she strained her long legs up and out, widening them to urge him in closer. Val clutched his hair and stood her tippy toes on end, pushing herself into his face. Her back arched as fireworks raced from nerve endings in her core, to her nipples, to her brain.
"Yes…there…that's it. Don't stop that," she pleaded, her voice rising into hysteria.
You can imagine the shock of some of the group's members. I don't think they expected something so raw. At first I was kind of embarrassed, but then I grew to be pretty proud of the imagery I'd created. The scene sat in limbo for a year or so. I sure didn't know what to do with it. Shortly after my first novel was accepted by Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, I had a chance to contribute to a series of shorts in Torrid Teasers. Here's the blurb of the expanded story: Valentine, her brother Ryan and his best friend Rafe, ran wild when they were kids. Val's crush on Rafe started early and never died. Recovering from his divorce, Rafe reunites with Val at Ryan's wedding and is thoroughly turned on by the stunning woman she's become. Sparks fly, and their mutual fascination turns to lust. Val and Rafe's lifelong fantasies are fulfilled in one night of breathtaking sensuality. Can this ecstatic reunion turn to love?
One guess as to whether their reunion turns to love. I have now re-published this book, changed the title to Loving Valentine, and gave it a new cover.
Loving Valentine sale link - http://amzn.com/B007JCTXRS
Sensual fantasies were locked in my mind for years until a friend said, "Why don't you write them down?" Why not, indeed? One spiral notebook, a pen and the unleashing of my imagination later, and here I am with more than a dozen books published. The craft of writing erotic romance has become my passion and my niche in life. I love every part of the creative process—developing characters, designing the plot, even drawing the layout of physical spaces from my stories. My careers have been varied—third grade school teacher, bookkeeper, secretary—none of which gave me a bit of inspiration. But now I'm lucky enough to write romance full time—the best job in the universe! And I'm fortunate enough to have found my own happily ever after husband.
Jane Leopold Quinn
My Romance: Love With a Scorching Sensualityhttp://janeleopoldquinn.BlogSpot.com
Amazon Author Page http://amzn.to/1DfiXkP
Lost and Found
The Real Deal
His, Hers & His
Soldier, Come Home
A Promise at Dawn
Jake and Ivy
Wooing the Librarian
Home to Stay
The Long Road to You
I'll Be Your Last