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The Door in the Wall – A Guest Post By Monique Roffey (@MoniqueRoffey13)

Sexual love can be a gateway to the divine, a common trigger to a full blown mystical experience. So say the mystics and tantrikas. Most of us have experienced moments of utter bliss, a lift into an altered space, after and during sex, in short, we have touched spirit. Many religions believe in this too, including Christianity, that sexual love can be the ‘door in the wall’, or a hidden window onto a spiritual reality. The writer George Feuerstein says that today’s sexual malaise, addiction to porn etc, is a spiritual, not a societal problem. Feuerstein (a scholar and tantrika), says that most crucially, we have lost contact with our bodies. We both deny our body and are pre-occupied it. We distrust our body, and we are ashamed and afraid of it, and there is an absence of ‘true sexuality’ in today’s world. Many of us can ‘perform’ sex without being present. We have a fear of the body, and especially a fear of the feminine, seen in our disrespect for nature/gaia and the way we exploit it. I totally go along with his ideas. He wrote about this in the 90’s and he was ahead of his time, and well ahead of the internet. Today’s world of internet sex often misses this component of sex and spirit. Porn offers hard, quick fix voyeurism; it often only offers us a wilderness.

Years of tantra have informed my views on sex, the way I think about sex and the way I write about it. Scared sex, to me, is sex that sustains me, morally and spiritually. It is the opposite of routine, unfeeling, goal orientated sex, the goal being orgasmic release.  However, you have to practice this kind of sex, and find a partner who practices it too. Tantric sex is the sex of woman worship; it is a woman’s call for intimacy and more intimate relating, sexually. And so, I’ve mostly sought tantric lovers in the last ten years. A bed isn’t just a place to get it on; it’s a place to connect with spirit. I believe it’s important to cultivate an awareness of the spiritual dimension to sex and to know how to lead others to this door in the wall.

I joined a tantric group recently, after years of being on the outside of the tantric world. A lover died, I broke up with another. I needed time away. Rejoining was a good thing to do. Recently, one dimly lit spring evening, I found myself seated yab yum style on a handsome half-naked man, our energies connected and flowing and the kundalini energy rising. It was simple and easy to get there, too. We were entwined, softly, and yet charged with desire and I felt like I was glowing there, lit up like the full-blown frigging Goddess. For a moment this handsome man stopped and chuckled as if reading my thoughts; he gazed deeply into my eyes and whispered welcome back.

My novel, The Tryst, is written from my own POV, as a tantric woman; it is woman-centred, and it is about a call towards intimacy for Jane, towards an awaking of a different life, a new way of being. Jane knows something is wrong with her current life, that there’s more out there, just as I did in my early 40’s. She senses a call to a greater sexual life in the form of numerous fantasies and dream trysts that pester her day and night. The sexual part of her is active in her imagination, only. She wants sex, but just doesn’t know how to break out of her own confines to find the type of sex she needs. It takes another woman, a Kali type Goddess, Lilah, a predator and a sexual connoisseur, to throw her into crisis and to force her to leap, to activate her sexuality Then, there’s healing. Jane finds her scared whore and her full sexual potential, the part of herself was missing. The Tryst is about a woman finding her sexuality, and it doesn’t come easily. There is a fight for it.

*****

The Tryst (Dodo Ink)

Extract

By Monique Roffey

I found Bill still asleep in our bed. He was naked, covered to the waist by a thin sheet. It was dawn, a fragile time of the day. July too, and the sash window was fully open, the curtains not drawn. I hadn’t seen Bill in ten days. Now, I feasted my eyes on him – so vulnerable in sleep. He was half-turned on his side, cradling himself with one arm, his hair had grown decidedly longer and fell about his face and shoulders, and his torso was summer tanned. He was a man in his late 40s and big framed, both muscular and voluptuous, a sight of a man. Gazing down at him there, I came to understand that Bill was a piece of my puzzle too. Just like Lilah, he was part of my solution. A longing for him sprang inside me, warm and reassuring – my husband. I put a hand across my belly and welcomed the sensation, letting it spread slowly, thinking I had needed Bill all along, for part of me to heal.

And now I saw him lying there, I had a choice. I could go, leave him sleeping. Or I could step forward into another life, fully open. On the side table next to him, I saw the small polished egg I’d left behind, a part of me too. A gift, a message I’d never fully understood myself. I took out the stick of chalk I had with me and bent to the ground, drawing a thin white line around our bed, whispering incantations. The sprite had gone but she had left her energy in the room; I could still smell her there, dense earth. I lit a small sprig of sage too and uttered banishments at each corner of the room and when I was done, I sat down carefully on the bed. I had never fought for Bill, let alone protected him or what we had.

Bill’s eyes flickered.

I smiled at him. He groaned and shook his head. His eyes flew open and he stared. His alarm faded when he registered who it was.

“I’m here,” I said.

His eyes opened wider, his long hair fell over his face and he pulled it back. His beard looked stronger too, as though Bill had been quietly growing richer over the last week or so. He didn’t say anything; he just looked at me. He gazed and mouthed the words hello, Jane.

He looked clear-faced and older. The worriedness I’d associated with his features had somehow lifted. I said hello back and moved across the bed and lay myself down next to him, face to face, our bodies aligned and close, not touching. I was clothed. Bill was naked. The sheet separated us. We gazed at each other for several minutes. Sadness swelled in me, a wave of regret and devastation at the loss of him. For those ten days I’d been unable to contact him by phone or email. Lilah had interfered. I had understood some kind of separation had been imposed; it was out of my control. We’d been cursed. I’d wept for days in a hotel room. Tears fell, looking at him. He touched my cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He moved closer and kissed my tears. I felt relaxed, like that tender feeling after a bath. Or maybe my own grief had softened me. I felt older too, and womanly, and forgiving of myself and him. Bill kissed me on the mouth and pulled away the sheet and I reached down to hold him.

I kissed him back and he moved across me, pulling open the buttons of my shirt. Then we were together, in motion, kissing, responsive to each other, tongues searching, words flowing between us. My back arched as he smothered my breasts with kisses and whispers of his own sadness and regret. Both of us uttered our mantras, sorry, sorry for the past. I was wet and soft and half-clothed.

I saw Bill then. Big-boned and full-hipped and sexy. Both of us were somehow sexier for being this age. Had I lost confidence in my body? If so, I seemed to suddenly have it back. Then Bill was on top of me, naked and hard, his cock pressed into my stomach. He peeled off my white lace bra and I showed him that I was a little unsure of my breasts and he said ‘yes’ with his eyes. Had this been part of it? The loss of my younger body, was that also in the mix? Bill peeled down my jeans, taking my panties with them. He sank his mouth between my legs and I gasped, burying one hand in his hair. I laughed and he laughed too and drank. I opened my legs and sighed and opened my eyes and even said the word out loud, “Lilah”.

I could feel her presence in the glossy silkiness between my legs. Bill’s tongue was strong and agile and I writhed with the pleasure he provoked. Then he stopped and looked at me, as if to say, this is only beginning. He pulled my jeans away so that I was naked and yes, my nakedness brought on a feeling of extreme shyness. And at the same time I felt open and full of longing. Then Bill was using his knuckle up and down, up and down on my clitoris, stroking me and dripping his silky serum on to me. My breath quickened and a spasm came from my groin, from his tender loving hands. An orgasm sprang upwards from my centre and swept through me. I’d never known this husband-lover Bill, had never tempted him to me, ever. He laughed and watched my body tremble and then he said “my wife, my wife”, and slowly, oh so slowly, he sank his long hard cock into me.

*****

The Tryst, blurb

By Monique Roffey

London, midsummer night. Jane and Bill meet the mysterious Lilah in a bar. She entrances the couple with half-true, mixed up tales about her life. At closing time, Jane makes an impulsive decision to invite Lilah back to their home. But Jane has made a catastrophic error of judgment, for Lilah is a skilled and ruthless predator, the likes of which few encounter in a lifetime. Isolated and cursed, Jane and Bill are forced to fight for each other, and, in doing so, discover their covert desires.

Part psychological thriller, part contemporary magical realism, The Tryst revisits the tale of Adam’s first wife, Lilith, to examine the secrets of an everyday marriage.

*****

Praise for The Tryst

“What makes The Tryst an unexploded virus isn’t just the quality and brightness of Roffey’s writing on sex, even as it uncovers inner glades between flesh and fantasy where sex resides – but the taunting clarity of why those glades stay covered. A throbbing homewrecker of a tale, too late to call Fifty Shades of Red.”

DBC Pierre, Booker Prize winner

*****

BIOG

Monique Roffey is an award-winning Trinidadian-born writer. Her novels have been translated into five languages and short-listed for major awards including 
the Orange Prize, Costa Fiction Award, Encore Award, Orion Award and the OCM Bocas Award for Caribbean Literature. In 2013, Archipelago won the OCM BOCAS Award for Caribbean Literature. Her memoir, With the Kisses of his Mouth, was published in 2011. She is a Lecturer on the MFA in the Novel at Manchester Metropolitan University. She divides her time between the East end of London and Port of Spain, Trinidad.

Buy at Amazon:

UK: http://amzn.to/2snABX2 US: https://www.amazon.com/Tryst-Monique-Roffey-ebook/dp/B072BX51PV/

Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esSTfsbP3P4&sns=em

Twitter: @MoniqueRoffey13

Facebook: @MoniqueRoffeyAuthor

Instagram: @MoniqueRoffey

Website: www.moniqueroffey.com

The Eroticon 2012 Conference

The post I have planned for later this month with deal with March’s theme of casting my books, but I’d specifically earmarked today to write about the conference I went to at the weekend.

As I’m in the UK, there’s a disappointing lack of conference for people that write what I write. The US seems to have an abundance of romance and related events, all of which I’d love to attend, but given that the plane fare alone would equate to me attending several UK conferences, I have to stick to this side of the pond.

Eroticon 2012 is the UK’s first conference for sex bloggers and erotic writers, and it was held in Bristol. I was delighted to be asked early on in the planning stages if I would give a talk on PR & Marketing, particularly since this meant my ticket would be free. 😉

As I mentioned before, there aren’t many events of this kind in the UK, so it’s great to be able to meet and get together with people that are in the same industry and of the same mindset. It’s also great to be able to meet people that you’ve only previously corresponded with via the internet. It promised to be an eventful day. And it certainly was…

I won’t bore you with the travel deals, but here’s a rundown of the day and the panels/sessions I attended:

Going indie, self-publishing by MK Elliott

Although I’ve already self-published some titles, I certainly don’t profess to know everything, and so happily attended this session to find out what MK Elliott had to say. I’m very glad I did. Naturally there was information that I knew already, but there were some things I didn’t, and of course it’s always useful to hear other  people’s experiences of things. MK Elliott was confident, knowledgeable and highlighted the main points of her talk with a PowerPoint presentation. She also happily answered questions and I came away feeling as though I’d learned something – and conversations with other attendees confirmed that they did, too.

Writing Workshop by Maxim Jakubowski

From the title of this session, I was expecting that we’d be doing something interactive and hands on, and so had my notebook and pen at the ready. Instead, this was a discussion led by Maxim which covered his career, the different genres he writes in, censorship and many more topics which affect the erotica and erotic romance writing genre. There were many questions from the audience, which he answered fully and usefully, and although as I said, the session wasn’t what I expected, it was certainly informative and interesting.

Convincingly Queer with Aisling Weaver and Josephine Myles

This was probably my favourite session of the day (with the exception of mine, of course!). Aisling and Josephine ran a session on how to write stories about things that you don’t necessarily have any experience of. For example, if you’re a different gender, sexuality or have different kinks. This included tying up and blindfolding members of the audience, discussing research methods and books, figuring out if certain pieces of writing were penned by men or women, and much more! It was a fun, laid back session and I came away with plenty of food for thought!

Publishers’ Panel with Maxim Jakubowski, Hazel Cushion, Monique Roffey, Paul Andrews and Richard Eadie

This was a lively panel with publishers and published authors – as well as people who have stradded both sides of that particular fence. Ruby started with asking some questions that had previously been sent to her, then it was opened up to the floor. Topics covered included what publishers would like to see more of (Victorian spanking, unusual fetishes), some chat on the PayPal debacle and how they’re censoring what people can read, whether you should write for the market or write what you want to write, whether erotica writers should use pseudonyms and more. There were some varying opinions, which made for interesting viewing, and again, I came away with lots to think about.

Marketing your Work with Lucy Felthouse and Victoria Blisse

Ah… yes. That would be me. Victoria and I dashed upstairs after the Publishers’ Panel to get set up for our session, desperately hoping that we’d get a good turn out, particularly as we were at the same time as two other sessions. Much to our relief, by the time we’d sorted out the laptop and projector, got our presentation up on screen and marvelled at the fact it had a remote control, the room was filling rapidly. That worry over, we waited patiently for any stragglers, then began. As marketing and promotion is such a huge topic, we couldn’t cover everything, so we centred in on blog tours, with me providing the “marketer” side of things, and Victoria filling in from the “author” perspective. There was lots of nodding and taking notes from the audience, then we opened up questions. The audience didn’t want to talk at first, but once they started, they didn’t want to stop! Luckily, Victoria and I were well equipped to handle the questions and there was some interesting discussion before we had to wrap it up. Not, however, before we gave a pimp to the Smut by the Sea anthology and encouraged people to come and grab some business cards! I had a few people express interest in my services (don’t be rude, I’m talking PR & Marketing here), as well as meeting some people that I’d chatted to via email and even worked for without ever having met them! I felt it was a really positive session and would definitely do it again.

Sacred Kink with London Fairie and Lori Smith

This was a spanking demonstration set to music. Honestly, I’m not sure what else to say about it. It was an eye-opening, new experience which resulted in Lori Smith getting a very red bottom, and sparked lots of questions and comments from the audience. I came away having seen something new.

Drinks Party

Much to my disappointment, the author readings were cancelled due to timing, but the raffle draw went ahead. Attendees won sex furniture, sex toys, vouchers, and lots of lots of books. Ruby then closed with a heartfelt thank you to the sponsors, speakers and attendees. Unfortunately for me, the only alcohol on hand was wine, so I was ready by this point to go out and eat and nab myself some vodka, which was soon remedied.

MY OVERALL THOUGHTS

It was a great event. There were elements that could have been better, and I did feel that it leaned slightly more towards sex bloggers than erotic writers (especially with the evening’s readings being cancelled), but it was worth it in terms of promoting my business, networking and spending time with some truly awesome people. So if you’re in the UK, or can get to the UK easily, then you should definitely keep your ear to the ground for next year’s conference, which is rumoured to be in London…