Jillian Boyd is an erotica author and blogger, who has been putting dirty words on paper and on her blog for the past three years. She likes taking everyday, seemingly mundane situations and making them sexy and sensual – and when she’s not doing that, she lets her imagination fly off into history and distant planets. Where she also tries to find everyday situations and make them sexy and sensual.
She’s been published in several House of Erotica anthologies, contributed to Tiffany Reisz’s office supply erotica charity anthology Felt Tips and has a story in the Golden Crown Literary Award-winning Best Lesbian Romance 2014.
When she’s not writing erotica, she’s being a film reviewer for various websites. She’s currently working on her first novella, a sci-fi erotic thriller called In Another Life. Her first anthology as an editor, Flappers, Jazz and Valentino is her ode to the glamour of the Jazz Age and is released on August 8th.
Which fictional character/couple do you wish you had created?
- Lisbet Salander from Stieg Larsson’s Millenium trilogy. I absolutely adore her.
What was the first piece of fiction you read that turned you on?
I think it wasn’t a piece of fiction, actually. It was Intimate Adventures of a
London Call Girl by Belle De Jour.
Thinking of the public perception of erotica writers as either sitting at their computers in food-stained tracksuits with their curlers in, or lounging in the boudoir wearing suspenders and sipping cocktails, which end of the scale would you say you were closer to?
- I’m either sitting in a coffee shop, necking flat whites and cake as I’m writing, or sitting in front of the television and trying to multi-task. So I’d say I’m a bit closer to the first one.
If you could live in any other era than the present, when would you prefer to live?
- Oh, the Twenties, definitely. Editing Flappers, Jazz and Valentino was a dream come true, getting to immerse myself in that era through the words of others. It was an interesting, culturally rich era, which of course had its major low points, but there were also so many highs.
Do you prefer writing novels, novellas or short stories?
- I’ll always love doing short stories, but I’m still at the stage where I’m making the transition into novellas (and novels) and currently, I’m rather enjoying that. It’s giving me time to explore the scope of what I’m dealing with and what my characters are going through.
Do you have a ‘fantasy cast list’ for any of your stories?
- I’ve got a small fantasy cast in mind for my current WiP (a sci-fi erotic thriller called In Another Life). My main character, Olivia, would be played by Natalie Dormer from Game of Thrones. Chris Evans (Marvel’s Captain America) would play Hannon – the main love interest. Commander Weller would probably be Bill Paxton, and Cadet Rowan Stahl, the second love interest would be Hugh Dancy, I think. But that’s all subject to change in my head.
What’s your favourite sub-genre of erotica – erotic romance, paranormal, fetish/bdsm, historical or something else?
- Erotic romance, followed by sci-fi and paranormal. I’m a huge fan of what Mitzi Szereto did with her Red Velvet and Absinthe anthology.
Flappers, Jazz and Valentino http://www.houseoferoticabooks.com/our-books/new-product-category/flapper-jazz-and-valentino/
More Smut for Chocoholics (All Romance eBooks) https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-moresmutforchocoholics-1555717-354.html?referrer=9d8e54f3ce71ca2554b388837ebb07e6
Smut By the Sea Vol. 3 (All Romance eBooks) https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-smutbytheseavolume3-1566528-362.html
Excerpt from Flappers, Jazz and Valentino
This is a little excerpt from The Sin in Syncopation, written by Blacksilk and featured in Flappers, Jazz and Valentino.
“You must think I’m one dumb Dora!” I huffed.
He grabbed my wrist, looking me in the eye with a steady gaze. “No. No, just the opposite. I admit that you’re not the first girl who’s taken me out like this. I published a similar article in New Orleans and I went out to jazz clubs for a week with a different girl each time.”
I shrugged. Dating around was the “in” thing and I did plenty enough of it myself.
“But when I gave them the treatment I gave you tonight, they gave up one by one or they just didn’t meet the grade. One girl couldn’t tell a trumpet from a sax, another got bored of me “bringing down her mood” and left with the singer. I’m a jazz man myself, Mae, not that I can match anyone in the clubs around here, but I need someone with smarts like you, with spirit, someone who can take my challenge, show me a good time and tell my po-faced, bluenose act to go screw.”
Despite myself, I couldn’t be angry. I tried, but what could I do? Didn’t I have my own ways of challenging the men I dated to see if they were the kind I could see again?
I had my fun with them in finding out, too, but I sure knew that’s all it was. A bit of fun. I hardly knew Cal – it even turned out I knew him less than I thought – and not only was I having fun, but I don’t think I’d ever wanted a man’s hands on my skin so much as I wanted his on mine.
I found myself stepping towards him and placing my knees one at a time on the bed at either side of him, straddling his lap and looking down into his beautiful brown eyes. He still held my wrist and his other hand pushed up into the bob of my hair, resting there possessively.
“There’s few out there like you, Mae. I’ve looked. I can be difficult at times, but I think you’ve proved you know just how to handle that, my little bearcat.”
I leant in, kissing his lips and then up his jawline and down his neck to his collar. He pulled his jacket off my shoulders, dropping it to the wooden floor below. “You filthy piece of work,” I whispered loudly under the still-intruding music, as I started pulling off his tie. That, too, joined the jacket on the floor and his hungry mouth pressed up into mine. Again a kiss, again a feeling of absolute need that rolled down my throat and into the pit of my stomach.
My fingers went to his buttons, the thrill of drink and desire made me clumsy, left me struggling to open his shirt even the slightest. “Rip it,” he gasped in between nips and nibbles at my lips. “I don’t mind making you sew them back on.”