Once upon a time, I wrote erotica.
Let me preface this with: I have nothing but respect for erotica authors. I’ve written prologues for erotica anthologies, and one of my favorite authors edits erotica (and writes some of the most stunning personal essays you’ll read. Her name is Rachel Bussel Kramer, and her collection called Sex and Cupcakes is well written, authentic, marvelous stuff.)
That said — when it comes to erotica…
I, um, sucked. (Ba-dum-bum!)
Actually, that’s not entirely true. From what I’ve been told by my editor and the few but dedicated fans of the series, the stories were solid, and I’m proud of what I was able to accomplish.
However, it fell into a wormhole.
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