How does anyone end up writing erotica? Well, I can only speak for myself, and I suppose I should start at the beginning.
My family is made up of voracious readers. I started reading adult-level fiction at a young age: my mother handed me Ken Follet’s A Place Called Freedom when I was 12, casually forgetting that there’s some decent 18th-century lovemaking hidden in its pages. Growing up in a Catholic household, those pages were a tad more interesting to me than the trials and tribulations of the various characters, to the point where to this day I have trouble remembering the details of the story. The next book she gave me was A Game of Thrones, and I guess she forgot about the naughty bits in there as well. I spent my teenage summers working as a lifeguard, so I had lots of time sitting at the sign-in desk of the neighborhood pool reading Avon Historical Romance Paperbacks; it was like eating cotton candy, but for my brain.
I’ll admit that it was the explosion of Fifty Shades of Grey that propelled me into the world of erotica. Up until then, I had no idea that the naughty bits could be the main bits. In keeping with the spirit of both my undergraduate and graduate degrees, I started reading more works that could be included in this genre. Pauline Réage’s Story of O was one of the first of these works, and I intend to continue my study of erotica.
However, I wanted to try my hand at writing this kind of fiction. After seeing a call for submissions, I jumped at the chance to write a story and submit it. Since then, I’ve kept myself busy by exploring new ideas and sending them out for perusal.
I hope you enjoy my stories!