I have stories in a new erotica anthology coming out in August. If you’re a fan of weird, complex supernatural erotica way beyond the conventional ghosts/vampires.

This book contains thirteen stories ranging in size from short stories to full-on novellas, all of them very spicy, all of them touching in some way on the supernatural.

In these pages you’ll find fables that tell a new creation myth, stories of small and heartless gods, sentient storms, living shadows, an archaeologist possessed by a Hittite priestess, and so much more! I think this is one of the best, most varied, most diverse collections of erotica you’ll ever find.

Here’s a taste:

She dried with one of the fluffy towels. More shadows moved overhead, chasing each other down the wall. She froze, a slightly puzzled frown on her face. With the blinds all shut, the only light in the room came from the tiny indirect lights in the ceiling, so how could the shadows move? “Henry?” she called. “Did you light a fire or something?”

“What? No.” His voice filtered through the rice paper screen, oddly distant. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw…” Light glowed on eggshell white walls and unremarkable beige blinds, steady and unwavering. She shook her head. “Nothing.” She dressed again in the same clothes she’d worn before, except her bra: button-up satiny blouse in white, dark lace panties, dark tailored skirt. Dressed once more, she found Henry sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed, still fully clothed save for his shoes. She paused, self-conscious at his expression. “What?”

“Nothing. I’m…I guess I’m hoping this whatever-it-is works.” He cocked his head. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“I don’t know, like voices or something.”

“We’re in a hotel.” Exasperation tinged her voice.

“Yes, I know we’re in a hotel,” he said. His cadence and rhythm fell smoothly into the groove, just starting the long downhill slide into an argument. “I’m just saying—” He stopped. “There it is again.”

“What? I don’t hear—”

A soft, feminine chuckle came to her, right behind her. She spun, half-expecting to see some member of the hotel staff had somehow crept in while she wasn’t looking.

Nothing.

“Huh, that’s weird,” she said as she turned in slow motion back toward Henry. “I thought I heard…” Her body resisted her, like the air itself had turned to molasses around her. Shadows danced across the walls. “I could have sworn—”

She heard it again, the feminine laugh, low and throaty, right beside her. The spell shattered, She jumped and spun. Nothing but empty air behind her. “What’s going on?”

The light dimmed. A tremulous wavering glow wreathed the walls. She raced for the door, barely aware as she did of the look of astonishment on Henry’s face. A fat spark jumped when her finger brushed the knob. She flung open the door into yawning, gaping blackness. No hallway outside the door, no floor beneath, just an unfathomable expanse of nothingness between her and thousands of distant stars glittering in the velvety black of interstellar space.

She slammed the door shut. “There’s…that isn’t possible!” she panted. “Did—you did see that, right?”

Henry stayed frozen like an insect in amber, jaw slack with surprise. “The champagne!” Lisa cried. “It must be—they must have put something in the champagne!”

“Something like what?” Henry’s voice, thin and reedy, coming to her across some endless distance.

“I don’t know! A drug! Like a hallucinogen, or ecstasy, something, how would I know?”

A woman’s giggle, behind her, very near. She could almost feel warm breath on her neck. A long slow wave of goosebumps ran shivering down her body. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Hello! the voice said again, not from behind her now but somewhere inside her, a second stream of consciousness competing with her own. Don’t fight me. Faint trace of an accent she couldn’t place.

“I don’t—what’s—” A sudden dizzying sense of vertigo swept over her, like she was falling without falling. She flung her arms in front of her. They moved in glacial slow motion, coasting to a stop halfway on their journey.

I won’t hurt you. The giggle came again. Though he might.

Her body froze, like one of those dreams where she lay trapped within herself in the middle of the night, mind swirling with nameless dread. She tried to scream, tried to flee. Her fingers twitched. Then with a sudden wrench, her body was torn away from her, leaving her tumbling into some still place within, a rider behind her own eyes.

Her body came to life, moving on its own toward the bed, her hips swaying, her gate strangely fluid, graceful but unfamiliar. “Hello, my love.” The words came from her but did not belong to her, colored by that faint, undefinable accent.

Henry sat up on the bed with a smile on his face, a smile she’d never seen there before. He raised his hands in front of his eyes, turning them this way and that, flexing his fingers. “Oh, I like this one.”

Lisa watched in powerless dread as she, or her body, knelt on the bed, piloted by someone else. The soft comforter yielded beneath her knees. A long, slow flush burned from her face down her body, setting her skin tingling in its wake. Her nipples hardened. She felt suddenly, intrusively aware of a trembling need that fluttered between her legs. “This one is surrendering already,” she heard herself say. “Come and see!”

He crawled across the bed toward her, her husband of all these years, wearing an expression she was certain had never before visited his face. She tried to flinch, tried to pull away, but her body no longer obeyed her commands. I must be dreaming! she thought.

You’re not dreaming, that other voice, that other thought, answered.

Henry seized her blouse. Fabric ripped as he tore it open, exposing her to his gaze, looking at her, really looking at her, in a way he hadn’t in years, his eyes intent and hungry. She arched her back. Her hands crept up her body on their own, cupping her breasts as though presenting them to him. “Come, my love,” she purred. “Make me yours once more.”

He leaned forward in aching slow motion, studying her with glittering eyes, wearing a grin nothing like Henry’s. Her breath caught. When was the last time Henry had looked at her so covetously, drinking in her form with such careful attention?

You can pre-order the book here!