I May Have Out-Smutted Myself
How is that even possible, you say? I don’t even know.
The reality of writing smut (erotica, but I just really love the word smut. Just say it with me, Ssssssmmmmmut! It doesn’t roll off the tongue, you have to hiss to say it properly. Word perfection.) is interesting. Sitting at the laptop in the late hours writing a graphic sex scene is not new to me; I’ve been writing for a very long time, writing novels for six years, and thus far, they’ve all included some shagging. Hell, sometimes I just get this fantasy in my highly undersexed, but prolific mind and rather than simply sit in quiet serenity replaying it over and over, I put it to use and write it the hell down.
Then it gets tucked away in the corners of my laptop, never to be seen aga-
WRONG! It gets published under a pen name…
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