Microfiction Monday: Excerpt from Wonderland

The short story that this is excerpted from is very, *very* short, and so is this teaser! The rest of the story is available now in Rachel Kramer Bussel's delicious anthology "Gotta Have It" which is available NOW from the link above! So exciting!

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The drawback to assigning thirty-page term papers was that someone had to read and grade them all. Since the faculty thought a class size of twelve didn't merit a TA, that someone was me. I'll know better next semester, maybe a five-minute speech instead.

The grading wasn't going quickly, either. Over an hour in and I was only finished two, and not even halfway through the third. This was going to eat up my whole Saturday and maybe more besides. Thank god for Cara. Not only had she closed off the dining room, turning it into a study for me for the day, she'd been keeping interruptions at bay and even making sure I had a bottomless cup of tea on hand. Damn, I loved that woman.

Speaking of tea, I hadn't even touched the last cup she'd brought. I picked it up to take a sip, and noticed something on the table behind the cup—a blue and white clay poker chip with a pink heart in the middle. I shook my head. I didn't have time for funny little mysteries, so I went back to the paper I was grading. “Why Britney Spears should be included in the feminist movement.” Spare me, please.

The french doors always creaked a bit when they opened, and I looked up to see Cara come in, looking scandalously sexy in nothing but a Femmes Rebelles t-shirt and panties. I was a bit distracted by legs long enough to belong to a dancer's, so it took me a minute to realize that she came bearing gifts—a plate of still-steaming chocolate chip cookies. I shared my life with a goddess. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and headed back out to let me grade in peace.

“Let me know if you need anything, Baby.”

I grinned like an idiot, blew her a kiss, and went to reach for one of the cookies...Wait a minute. There was a second poker chip stacked on the first.

“Car...”

She stopped at the door, but she didn't turn around. I took a second to admire her lusciously rounded ass.

“I give. Whats with the secret poker chip deposits?”

She turned around then, and her sky-blue eyes danced with mischief and glee. Her smile looked fit to split her face in two.

“I can't tell you, but I can show you, up in the bedroom. But not until you finish the paper you're working on now.”

She shot me a wink and left for real this time, with a tease of a wiggle.

MFM: Excerpt from Weight of Duty

As mentioned in my last post, Uniform Behaviour is newly out, and we're all doing our best to promote it, so we can make piles of money for Help for Heroes! (and well maybe a little for us hard-working writer and editor types, too!) In an effort to entice you to do just that, I've posted a little tease from my story in the anothology, The Weight of Duty. Enjoy!

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Once we managed to find it, McNally's turned out to be a really nice place. It was only half full, which I had been led to believe would be impossible to find during Tattoo week, and they had a surf and turf on special for only fifteen bucks, which included an enormous whole lobster and quite possibly the most delicious steak I had ever tasted. We each got one, and a local beer called Keith's Pale Ale which turned out to be really good, too.

Lisa was really good company. In between her smart-assed comments—which, to be honest, were starting to give me one hell of a hard-on—she told me a little bit about what it was like to play in a pipe band, and how to pretend to be listening to someone when you've get heavy-duty earplugs in to preserve your sanity. In exchange, I told her a little bit about being on the gun running team, and explained that “Gunner” wasn't actually some amazing title you got for sniping enemies, but was really just the equivalent of a private in the artillery. To her credit, if she was disappointed to hear it, it didn't show.

She let me pay, which was a nice surprise, and once we made it out of the restaurant, she used the front of my shirt to pull herself up on her toes and me down low enough for her to suck me into a mind-blowing hold-nothing back devour every inch of me kiss that left me dizzy. She tasted like steak and beer, which was really fucking hot, and she smelled like lobster, which was, well...not. So did I, for that matter, and I suggested going back to my bunk to clean the fishy-smell off us. Thompson would be out getting shit-faced, as was his daily ritual, and wouldn't be back until at least 2 am, I promised.

I won rock, paper, scissors and got the first shower. The cheap motel bathroom was kind of dingy, but the water was hot and clean and fresh and felt amazing pelting my naked skin. I knew enough to bring my own body wash with me instead of hoping that the dives the put us up in provide tiny little bars of crap soap, and the rich lather on my cock and balls was almost one stimulation too many after an evening out with Lisa.

I was still debating whether a quick jerk-off was a wise move considering how close I was to coming already when she decided to join me. Clothed, Lisa was pretty fucking hot. Naked, she was like a miniature goddess or something. Every inch of her skin was the same creamy peach, there wasn't a tan line in sight. Hard pink little nipples pointed straight up from tits that were just the right size to fit in a hand each with nothing left over, which I didn't waste a minute doing, getting her as lathered and wet as I was. She didn't shave her pubes, which was a relief to me since I always felt like a creepy old dude whenever I fucked someone who was clean-shaven down there. They were blond, which explained the blue eyes, and she purred like a kitten when I soaped them up.

She pulled in close to me under the pelting water, and took my cock in her one hand, grinning up at me when she produced an unwrapped condom in the other. I leaned down to kiss her, then, guiding her arms up around my neck so I could roll it on. As nice as her hand had felt, I needed more than that right then, and I reached around to cup her ass in my hands—oh my fuck she had the most perfectly grabbable ass there ever was—and lifted her onto my cock. We kissed again, and she wrapped her legs around my waist and writhed against me like crazy but at these angles, this was just a tease. Don't get me wrong—having her moulded to me like that felt really fucking good, but there was no changing the fact that the lower half of my cock was pinned between our bodies instead of buried in hers, which is what we were both starving for.

Uniform Behaviour on sale now!

It's here, it's here, it's finally here! Uniform behaviour, which includes my short story "The Weight of Duty" is out for sale now! The image above takes you to the Amazon store if, like me, you're a kindle addict, or see the release announcement here for other formats!

...isn't the army boy on the cover PRETTY? 

A Quick Update and some Pretty!

Well, my computer is still off being repaired and it has kidnapped all of my writing with it. Yes, I do now see how much less annoying this would be if I'd backed everything up online. *sigh*

I do have some pretty for you, though!

November's issue of Safeword magazine is out with my story in it, and wow is it pretty!

Check it out here!

Micro Fiction Monday : Yeah, I'm a coffee-porn addict

You heard right. Another bite-sized bit of smut devoted to coffee. 

Double-double was published last night at Every Night Erotica, which means that it's the featured story until a new one comes on tonight!

Here's a little teaser:

Anyone who’s lived in a small town in the Maritimes will tell you that in order to get all of the most recent dirt on the local residents, you need look no further than the nearest Tim Horton’s. Since Eric had lived in most of them, he knew the score. Today’s topic of discussion—and the reason that he was here—was Melissa Thornton.
He was careful to prop a free trader rag in front of him while he nursed his double-double and honey cruller, hoping that to anyone casually looking his way, he appeared to be minding his own business. instead of actively eavesdropping on any bit of gossip the locals were willing to provide on the woman. While they proposed the scenarios, his imagination was free to fill in the much-wanted details.
“All’s I’m saying is that there’s a reason she never comes to the church breakfasts and bake sales. She’s too busy getting sugar from her flavour of the week!”
Forced chuckles recognized the weak pun.
“You guys remember last March, when she was having her living room redone? The painter’s van parked right there at the bottom of her driveway—didn’t even try to hide that he was there three days, and never went home at night. I think the reason she gets all her work brought in from the city is that she hires them from an escort service!”
“Do escorts do housework? I think I want one, too!”
Eric thought of naked, paint covered bodies rolling around together on the tarp-covered floor of Melissa’s living room and the chatter around him faded to unintelligible noise.
read the rest of the story here

Eeee! A REVIEW!

Okay, I admit it. I'm vain. In an effort to find something that I'd lost into the vast unknown of cyberspace, I googled myself, and then I found I just couldn't stop looking. During this moment of extreme narcissism, I stumbled upon this snippet of review by Tori Rebel for my story in Please, Ma`am:

"Mr. February" by Madeline Elayne is by far the most endearing and romantic story in the book, which is a nice change in an erotica compilation, especially that in the D/s genre. It tells the story of the All-American guy-next-door husband who discovers his submissive self and though afraid, presents his desires to his loving wife, expecting the worst, but he is pleasantly surprised.

It seems I enjoy hearing nice words said about what I write even more than nice words about me!

 I'm all grinny now, hee. The rest of the review is here

And of course the book (which really does rock, by the way. The stories in it are delicious!) is available here:

Please, Ma`am

New short story to be published in June

My short story, "Mr. February," is slotted to be published in Cleis Press' anthology Please Ma`am: Erotic Tales of Male Submission this June. You can see the details for the anthology, edited by the fabulous Rachel Kramer Bussel, here: Please, Ma`am Anthology It's available now for preorder on Amazon.com (hint, hint!). Due to be released on June 1st 2010. Very exciting!