Femme Fatale edited by Lana Fox (cover)

Exhibit A: Femme Fatale

Go Deeper Press invited yours truly to read (and review, of course) Femme Fatale (edited by the kinky divorcée herself, Lana Fox*). And it’s Lana’s story, “Smart Folks Won’t Screw Witless Girls,” that’s stuck with me.

Now, it’s no secret I don’t consider myself a straight man. I curve at the edges, if you will. Mental sexual. Whatever you want to label, I’m all right with (mostly because, at the end of the day, I don’t give two shits what you call me). So what’s so special about Lana’s story? You gotta read it, I’m afraid.

A few months ago, I had an idea about creating an alter ego who wrote bad erotica. As there seems to be a market for it, anyway. (Not that Femme Fatale is bad erotica. It’s pretty good shit, here. Like the pineapple express of erotica.) Still, I’ve mentioned my run in with bad writing (and not just erotica) that I pick up for Kindle free via Smashwords or Amazon. Poor story lines, clichés, editing mistakes, etc. Makes a guy want to throw a business card (if I had any) at them and offer my editing services. I know what you’re thinking, “Please. There are so many grammatical mistakes in your blog posts, how can you possibly offer such services?” It’s easier to see others’ mistakes than your own.

Or maybe you’re one of those people who thinks that I’m jealous that I lack the skill that they have. To that, I ask, what skill? “So if you can do it, why not?” Well, that’s the plan. With said alter ego, I’m going to write some pretty shitty things and see who takes the bait. And this isn’t a one man operation. My co-workers are helping. So stay tuned for that.

While we’re on topic, I’ve halted all research on my sex club influenced story. The storyline became muddled with a murder mystery plot (even though I aimed for that direction). Or maybe I’ve become jaded towards sex. Or I haven’t watched or read enough porn to get this story off. I have scenes in my head, but they all feel a tad cliché. I want something new and fresh. What I need is a muse. Someone who can bring my creative self to the surface. Or I need to go out there and live a little. Either way, this dry spell is quite knackering.

*I’m using the title to refer to her book. I don’t know Lana Fox personally, so don’t go around quoting me that she’s a divorcée. There isn’t a doubt in my mind, however about her kinkiness.

 

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