Rachel Kramer Bussel

The Running Writer (and Three of Hearts)

I’ve often compared running and writing.  They’re both things I love to do, they’re both mostly solitary pursuits, and require setting your mind to a task and not stopping until it’s done.  Both can be done pretty much everywhere, and need minimal equipment.  A body. A mind. Running shoes. A laptop.  The bells and whistles of wicking socks, a running watch that takes my heartbeat, and a MP3 player are like writing software, books on the craft, and a glitter pen that writes in turquoise:  very nice, but not essential.

In most stories and in most runs, there’s a point at which I want to stop.  “No more,” I think despairingly, “I can’t do this any longer.”  And in most stories and most runs, if I can get myself past that point, the end is worth it.  The satisfaction of completing a story knowing I’ve told something good.  The joy of completing a run when I didn’t think I could run that far or that fast.  (Running ’til you puke is a whole ‘nother topic). And in the long haul of training, or a writing career, there’s times in both when I’ve thought, what’s the point of continuing? I’ll never get faster, no one will ever want to read this.   But getting past those mental blocks brings great rewards. Continue reading “The Running Writer (and Three of Hearts)”

Three of Hearts

ThreeofHeartsI received my favorite kind of email today – a story acceptance. Yes, that’s even better than an email telling me I’ve won the Swiss lottery (again…). This one is particularly happy-making, as it’s an anthology put together by one of my favorite editors, Kristina Wright, and put out by one of my favorite publishers, Cleis Press.

Three of Hearts, which is scheduled to hit the shelves sometime in October this year promises to be a smorgasbord of threesome erotic romance. There I am, smooshed in with some great writers between the covers.

Check out the table of contents below:

Foreword – Alison Tyler
Introduction: Three’s the Charm
Movie Night – Tiffany Reisz
An Extra Pair of Eyes – Rachel Kramer Bussel
Eve’s Apple Red – Angela Capteron
Experience and Expectations – Kathleen Tudor
The Mistress in the Brat – Skylar Kade
What Happens in Denver – Cheyenne Blue
Old Habits – Mina Murray
Medley of Desire – A.J. Lyle
A Thief in the Night – Giselle Renarde
Drinking Games with Cowboys – Axa Lee
The Last Day of Summer – Veronica Wilde
Full Circle – Jade Melisande
Whose Anniversary Is It Anyway? – Annabeth Leong
Limits of Endurance – Ariel Graham
Uncharted Seas – Chris Komodo
Three for the Road -Kristina Wright

Because every blog should include food and sex, right?


Because every blog should include food and sex, right?

I think I’ve got the sex part nailed, so here’s some food. Specifically, my homemade sourdough bread (with a background of gum trees).  This is our daily bread, because it’s quick, easy, cheap, I know exactly what’s in it, and it tastes delicious.

If you want sex with your food, let me point you to an anthology from a few years back, Sex and Candy: 22 Succulent Stories edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. Ooh look, it’s at a bargain price at the moment too.

There’s 22 stories of sweetness by some of my favorite authors between the covers (don’t miss “Kneading” by Shanna Germain or “Six Layers of Sweetness” by Donna George Storey).

I have a story in this collection too. “Rosehips are Red” is about the pleasures of making rosehip jelly. These days I don’t live where the wild roses grow (thank you, Nick Cave, for the song), so I’ll stick with making sourdough and grapefruit marmalade. In the meantime, here’s an extract from my story:

The next week we walk the fields again, our gumboots caked with mud. We skirt the field the farmer has plowed for winter wheat, duck under the barbed wire, and splash through the stream dividing the wheat from the cow pasture. Sammy, our retriever, crashes through the stream. We hear his bark, and the whir and clatter of a startled pheasant.

The low autumn sun burnishes your hair; the sunlight is weaker than the warmth in your eyes. I can see the rose hedge from a distance. The soft, pink petals are gone, trampled into the grass by the cows, but as we get closer, I can see the ripe, red pendants studding the hedge.

“Rosehips!” I exclaim, and snap one from the briar.

A thorn embeds itself in the fleshy part of my thumb, and there’s a drop of blood as vivid as the fruit. You meet my eyes and lift my hand. Your lips close around my wounded thumb, lapping the blood, soothing the puncture with your warmth. I close my eyes and remember those lips on other parts of my body: on my face, on my skin, on my breasts, between my legs. I remember your tongue and its wet, hot glide.

I cup the gravid fruit in my hands and a finger caresses its rotund shape. “Will you still love me when I look like this?” I ask.

We return the next day to harvest the hips. We bring two plastic ice cream tubs to put them in, but we forget the gloves. The briars catch in my hair, tug on my shirt, embed themselves in my fingers. You roll up your sleeves—it’s your favorite shirt, its moss green matches your eyes—and the tiny thorns scratch a pattern of weals on your forearms. They’re only superficial, they can’t hurt.

Green-eyed people are faery people, changelings left behind when the faeries steal a human child. Green eyes remind me of the ocean: they can be stormy and dangerous, or languid and gentle. Like you.

You bend to pick the rosehips from a low hanging patch of briar, and your shirt comes apart from your jeans, revealing a pale strip of flesh. Fine golden hairs cover your skin. I know how you love me to brush them lightly, with barely-there fingertips. It makes you catch your breath and shiver, as if those faeries that left you behind have danced across your flesh. I move closer, bend forward and let my long hair brush over your skin like their wings.

You’re startled, and jerk upright, and your shoulder connects with my chin. We both reel, rub our bruised parts, and then laugh at our clumsiness. My tub of rosehips falls to the ground unheeded as we drift together, arms finding familiar routes around each other’s waists, our hips aligning subtly, until I feel the fly of your jeans pressing into my belly. I slide my hips to and fro until it’s not only the fly I’m feeling.

I love that pressure as you swell against me. I love the long, hard ridge of your cock, and my answering rush of wetness. You grasp my hips, pull me closer, and kiss me. It’s a deep, drowning kiss, and I melt.

“Let’s go home,” I say. I want to be in our bed, with your hands on my bare skin.

Story acceptances

It seems I am woefully awful at updating. I’d like to say that I spent the time when I should have been updating writing new stories, but that’s not entirely true either. I spent most of it cooking, running, reading some seriously good stories, futzing around on the web. Oh, and moving back to Australia.

I have been writing though (of course), and I have some rather wonderful acceptances to prove it. Continue reading “Story acceptances”

Happy news

My story “The Watcher in the Shadows” was accepted by Rachel Kramer Bussel’s “Peep Show: Tales of Voyeurs and Exhibitionists”, published by Cleis Press in November this year.

Author interview!

You can read my answers to Rachel’s questions on “The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories” over on the Mile High Club blog. Donna George Storey is there as well, and more authors to come. :).

Happy St Patrick’s Day!

Before I head out to the parade and a pint of porter in my local pub here in Ireland, I want to tell you some news. Firstly, the aforementioned “The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories” edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel is about to hit the stores. Rachel’s running a fantastic promotion:

Order The Mile High Club from anytime on Monday, March 23rd, and Rachel will send you any of her Cleis Press books you want, for free (Do Not Disturb, Tasting Him, Tasting Her, Yes, Sir, Yes, Ma’am, He’s on Top, She’s on Top, Rubber Sex, Crossdessing, Hide and Seek, Caught Looking, Rubber Sex, Best Sex Writing 2008, Best Sex Writing 2009). Continue reading “Happy St Patrick’s Day!”

Happy success stories

It’s always great when a story really comes together and when you lift fingers from the keyboard at the end, you know you’ve got a story to be proud of. “Wing Walker” was one of those, and it will be in Rachel Kramer Bussel’s “The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories” coming out from Cleis Press in April. Coming out in January 2009, again from Cleis is “Best Lesbian Romance 2009” edited by Radclyffe. This includes my story “Eyes” (writing as Maggie Kinsella). And finally, also from Cleis, due in June 2009, is “Girl Crazy: Coming Out Erotica” which will include my story “Flannel and Fleece”.

Bad Cheyenne. No cookie.

Bad Cheyenne! Months without an update. Firstly, I have in my hands a slew of contributor’s copies. “Tales of Travelrotica for Lesbians Volume 2” edited by Simone Thorne contains my story “Carrowkeel”, which is the last story in the book. Rightly or wrongly, I always get a real kick out of being one of the first two or last two stories. Not that I’ve ever been the number one cab off the rank. Someday, maybe. Travelrotica has great stories from great authors. Don’t miss “In from the Cold” by Lynne Jamneck. Also edited by Simone Thorne is “Best Lesbian Love Stories: Summer Flings” which has my Colorado story, “Warm Hands”. Continue reading “Bad Cheyenne. No cookie.”

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