Thank You

Alana Church - The Guardians of Heklos - Complete Anthology - Click Image to Close


Back in the winter of 2014, I decided to try my hand at writing a short story. I had read erotic fiction in the past, and, like most authors in this genre, had come to the conclusion that 90% of it was crap. I had an idea, cobbled together with bits and pieces of stories I had enjoyed. It would be a religion, one which held that physical love was a sacrament. That the Deity of this religion was an actual presence in the lives of Her worshipers. That the Christian religion was intensely hostile to this older faith. And lastly, that belief was something which was inherited in the bloodline of the priesthood, and that the Deity had a vested interest in making sure the bloodline of the High Priests endured.

These ideas all came together in “The Guardians of Heklos,” a monster of a book which ran nearly 100,000 words. My “short story” nearly devoured my life for three months as I wrote, revised, edited, and wrote again. I posted a few excerpts on an erotica website, but the responses were not as enthusiastic as I might have wished.

It was around this time that I thought, “This is actually good enough to publish. For money!” After some investigating, I was referred to Jo at Boruma.

To say that this decision has changed my life is an understatement. Before my first e-mail to Jo, I was a telecommunications worker who wrote as a hobby. Now I am a writer who works in telecom to keep food on the table. Jo guided me through the editing process, how to properly format a book, helped me choose a cover, and sent my poor little novel out into the world of e-publishing.

Where it landed like a dead fish. The instant riches and universal acclaim I hoped for were sadly lacking. It seemed the world was not ready for a pseudo-medieval erotic fantasy with strong elements of incest and a blistering antipathy for Christianity.

It would have been very easy to give up at that point. To say, “Well, I tried. But no one liked my story. So I quit.”

Luckily, Jo encouraged me to keep writing. She was patient when I nagged her. Supportive when I was frustrated. Honest when I asked her opinion. Understanding when I rejected a suggestion. My book count now stands at between twenty and thirty, depending on how you count the various multi-part books and anthologies. While the mansion, the Tesla, and the gaggle of attractive servants are still pending, I have achieved a small measure of success. Enough to keep my rampaging ego satisfied, at least.

Today, I sold a copy of “Guardians.” After deducting the cost of the artwork, I now show a profit on this book of four dollars and seven cents. Which probably translates to one cent per hour that Jo and I worked on it.

It has been so totally worth it.

Thank you, Jo.

Alana Church




A fantastic review of my latest book, “Idle Hands”

Alana Church - The Succubus #1 - Idle Hands - Click Image to Close

Hello All. Today I would like to announce the publication of the first book in a new series. “The Succubus” is a story of an immortal being of passion and lust, who, by the whims of fate, becomes trapped in the body of a mortal woman. The story tells us how Althea and Rachel learn to work together to free Althea from the prison of Rachel’s body, and how Rachel’s family and friends are drawn into a world which is darker and more dangerous than they ever imagined.

Happily, this book was recently reviewed by Tera at Follow this link for the full review, but I think I can be forgiven for posting this excerpt:

“I highly recommend this work for the characters, the depth of the plot, the time taken to tell each of the main characters’ stories. This opening work doesn’t focus mainly on the erotica, the erotica is used to push the story forwards intelligently, which I really quite enjoyed. I have high hopes and expectations overall and I believe this series will be one of my continuing favourites to follow throughout.

Four and a half out of five pitchforks.”

To further whet your appetite, please see below for an excerpt from the book itself:

“It isn’t a cock,” she whispered, “but it will do for now.” Slowly, lovingly, she thrust her fingers into her channel. All the while, her other hand played with her breasts, dancing from one passion-swollen peak to the next, stroking and kneading and pinching until she thought she would scream.

Her climax grew slowly, as if it were out of practice and unused to her demands. She slowed down, keeping her eyes closed. Memories of her teenage years flitted through her mind. Times when she had hurried home from school, horny and itchy, desperate to reach orgasm. And then the long, frustrated wait in her bedroom as she fought her own body’s needs. She had learned to her dismay that an orgasm could rarely be forced. It had to be earned.

Relax,” she breathed, repeating the mantra she had taught herself when she was fifteen. The word whispered through the muggy air of the bathroom. “Relax and concentrate. There, doesn’t that feel good?” she cooed, as she caught the rhythm of desire. Her hips rocked up and down, her hungry sheath swallowing her fingers. Even through the water, she could feel the walls of her vagina slickening.

“Almost there,” she gasped. “Almost…there!” She threw her left arm across her mouth to muffle her happy shriek as she came. Her fingers dove deep within her, her thumb mashed down on her clit. Her hips bounced up once, twice, then a third time, locking in place and sending a spray of water high into the air.

Whoa, she thought, when she finally opened her eyes. That was nice.

“The Succubus: Idle Hands” can be purchased at here.

Or if you prefer Smashwords, here is an alternate link.

Thanks for reading, and be happy!


New Book Published – “The Maiden’s Choice” by Alana Church

Alana Church - Guardians of Heklos #4 - The Maiden's Choice - Click Image to Close

Hola, Borumaniacs! I know it has been a long time since we spoke (like over a week!), but I thought I’d let you know what is happening.

Today we have a new offering. It is the conclusion to my four-volume epic, “The Guardians of Heklos.” Not many people wanted to purchase a book with a length of 100K words which was partially based on medieval Europe, so I was encouraged to split “Guardians” into smaller, bite-sized volumes.

As stated above, “The Maiden’s Choice” is the conclusion of this story. In it, we have several people who must make decisions about who they are and what they want. Will they give in to fear, or will they stand tall, spit in authority’s eye, and reach for happiness?

Angela, the focus of this volume, has an especially harrowing choice to make. She is being pulled in several directions. Between her faith and her true love. Between the comfort of the world she has known and the fear of the unknown. Between the shackling chains of chastity and the terrifying freedom of desire.

This was my first story to be published, and it holds a special place in my heart. You can find “The Maiden’s Choice” for sale here.

It Just Takes One

So, you’re having a down day. Tough day at the office. Maybe your spouse or SO and you are having a spat. The traffic was bad, your favorite team lost a sportsball game, and someone stole the last slice of chocolate pie.

You just don’t have the energy to sit down in front of the computer and work on your story. “Screw it,” you say. “I’m going to watch old episodes of “Doctor Who” until my brain turns to tapioca. Or maybe sit around in my bathrobe and watch the Mythbusters blow crap up.”

And then it happens. That little piece of encouragement that keeps us going on. A sale on Smashwords. A decent review on Amazon or ereaderotica. Or, in my case, a complete and utter stranger finding by Twitter account so she could tell me how much she loved my latest book.

And you feel appreciated. You’re not just howling into the wilderness, pounding out words which no one will read, let alone enjoy.

So you sit down and write another few paragraphs. Maybe your new friend will like them.

New Anthology Published: “Satyr Day” by Alana Church

Greetings, puny mortals!

Yes, it is I, Bacchus, God of wine and fertility, here to tell you about the latest offering from my handmaiden, Alana Church!

“Satyr Day” tells the story of a mortal man, Owen Howard. Late one night, Owen encounters my emissary, Phoebe. After proving his worth and good will, Phoebe gifts him with a copper bracelet in which I have invested a portion of my divine will. Soon, the women in Owen’s life are affected by the bracelet, as is he. As the day progresses, Owen has a choice to make. Will he accept his destiny as the avatar of a God? Or will he prove himself a coward and waste the opportunity of a lifetime?

An excerpt follows:

“So what about you, papi?” she said. She put an arm around his shoulders and snuggled close. “Any new women in your life?”

“Ha,” he said. “I asked Anaya out again tonight. And she turned me down again.”

“I like Anaya,” Isabel said. “She is very pretty.” She turned towards him, full breast pressing into his arm. “Not as pretty as you are, though, mi vida.” She kissed his cheek softly, pressing close.

Suddenly Owen was very aware of her warm body next to his. His cock stirred and lengthened, growing down the length of his thigh. Their eyes met, hers shining brightly with desire.

She wants you. The thought came to his mind unbidden. If he gave her the smallest hint, his attractive landlady would be more than willing to take him to bed.

Instead he rolled off the trunk, eyes wide. “Isabel, I think you’ve had a little too much to drink. How about we go inside? I’ve got to be at work at ten o’clock.

“Oh, by the way,” he added. “One of the drivers got fired tonight, and I’m taking a day shift tomorrow, so I can be here when Samara visits for supper tomorrow night.”

Isabel sat up, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. What had she been thinking? Somehow, it had seemed so right, to snuggle close to Owen, so handsome, so strong. Hands shaking, she clambered to her feet, ignoring the urgent ache in her belly, the warm glow in her breasts.

This anthology can be found exclusively on Amazon as part of their Kindle Unlimited program. Interested mortals can purchase it here.

New Book Published – “Star Seed,” by Alana Church

Alana Church - Star Seed - Click Image to Close

It has been a literary trope ever since men and women looked up into the night sky. The possibility of visitors from other planets coming down and meeting us.

And with that possibility, comes the inevitable follow-up: would these visitors look like us? Would they be attractive? Powerful? Beautiful? From ancient legend to Star Trek, the possibility of mating with alien beings is a powerful thread in our shared mythology.

Star Seed is one attempt at an answer. Our story follows Andi, a young woman who has fallen on hard times. In desperation, she is working as an escort, a profession she has little taste for. One day she receives an offer to spend a week with a new client, an offer which would allow her to claw her way out of her mountain of debt.

What she does not know is that money is only the smallest of gifts she might receive, if she is brave enough to reach out her hands and take them.

An excerpt follows:

  “I think I’m going to take a shower, then go to bed,” Andi said. “Otherwise I’m going to fall right over. I had a late night last night at my other job. Unless you need me for something…” she let herself trail off suggestively, hoping Chara would catch the invitation in her voice.
“Yes, you do look tired,” Chara said, completely missing her hint. “Sleep well, and dream sweetly. Already I am looking forward to our day tomorrow.” In two quick steps she crossed the distance between them. Andi sighed in pleasure as her arms came around her in a tender embrace. She was so warm! Her touch was like stepping into a sun-warmed room on a cold winter’s day. The heat sank into her muscles, relaxing her.
After a moment, Chara let her grip ease, though she still held onto Andi’s shoulders. She opened her mouth, as if to make some parting comment, then closed it again. Instead, she leaned close and brushed Andi’s cheek with her lips. She made as if to repeat the gesture on her other cheek, but Andi intercepted her mouth with her own, capturing her lips in a kiss.
Andi swam in a sea of desire. Chara’s mouth was soft and warm and willing on hers. Her body moved closer, pliant and undemanding, content to accept Andi’s affection.
Andi found her arms roaming along the skin of Chara’s back. Her hands drifted lower, over the sweet curves of her rear and to her thighs. Almost without thinking, she gathered the folds of Chara’s dress in her hands, pulling the hem higher. In moments, Chara’s legs were bare and Andi could fondle the exposed skin of her rear.
No panties! Andi’s head swam in astonishment. But her probing fingers told the truth. Her friend had spent the entire day with her dressed in only a thin layer of silk. With one hand in the small of her back, Andi slipped the other around to her front resting on her taut stomach. In her fevered imagination, the scenario presented itself. She would drop to her knees and pleasure Chara with lips and tongue. And then they would go to her room for a night of passion-soaked lovemaking.
A mere instant before she could kneel, she found her wrists caught in Chara’s hands. “No, darling,” she said, her voice slightly husky. “Not yet.” She reached up her hand and cupped her cheek, and Andi had to stifle a shudder of longing. She looked down between them, to where their breasts nearly touched. Her nipples were stiff and aching within her bra.
Chara smiled as she released her, the expression full of promise. “Not tonight,” she said. “You are tired, my friend, and I am a little bit drunk. If you come to my bed, it will be when you know me fully. With no secrets between us.”
“I want you now,” Andi whispered.
“Do you?” Chara’s voice was wise, her eyes keen. “Or do you just want the idea of me? A glamorous woman who is beautiful and wealthy, come to take you away from your drab existence? No, Andi,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “You do not know me yet. And when you do, you may find the reality makes you unwilling to continue our acquaintance.
“Sleep now. I will see you in the morning.” She turned and walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind her firmly.

Thanks to Jo and Moira for another lovely cover!

You can buy a copy of Star Seed here.

Thought of the Day – On Writing


Winston Churchill. Babe Magnet.

Ordinarily, I shy away from these. “Thoughts of the Day” are usually useless platitudes which serve only to sell “inspirational” posters that make you want to tear them down the second time you read them.

But as a man who wrote a book or two, old Winston had a couple of smart things to say on the subject of writing. I think we can all appreciate his wisdom:

“Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.”

I am sure we have all been there. The first heady rush as we sit down at the computer. The thrill as we create our characters. The dialogue which is always better in your head than when it appears, haltingly, on the screen.

Then the slog. The slow parts, the headaches. The constant revisions. The places where, no matter how often you rework it, it just doesn’t work. The soul-sucking tedium where you try, just once, to have the passion on the page match the passion in your mind.

Then, the triumph when the book is finished. The last, joyous edit. The approval of the cover art. Then, finally, a tearful farewell. It’s gone! It’s done!

I can’t wait to start another one.

New Review – “While the Cat’s Away,” by Alana Church


Alana Church - While The Cat's Away #1 - While The Cat's Away - Click Image to Close

“While the Cat’s Away,” the first half in my two-part “While the Cat’s Away” series, has just been reviewed by

Let’s just go for the money quote, shall we?

“It is sly, sneaky, and incredibly hot genius.”

Well, what is someone supposed to say after reading something like that?

But, to be honest, this is not to say Sylvia thought the entire story was a work of genius. If you read the full review, you will see there are places where she thought the story could have been improved upon.

It is safe to say, however, that she enjoyed the fact that there was a slow ramp-up of sexual tension in this book, rather than a quicker pay-off.

In this story, we find twin siblings Dawn and Donny being watched by their older cousin Cindy while their mother is away at a church conference. Cindy is recently separated from her husband, and her eye is caught by her sexy young cousins. See the excerpt below:

“What about Donny, there?” she asked, as he came back around the corner with the mower, heading towards the far end of the yard. “You can’t tell me he hasn’t had girls drooling all over him.”

“Oh, they do,” sighed Dawn. “Then Mom sits them down for a chat, and you never see them again.”

“Too bad,” sighed Cindy. She gazed at Donny’s lithe form, pushing the mower across the grass. “He makes me feel all squirmy inside.”

“What?” Dawn asked, wondering if she had heard her cousin correctly.

“Oh, you know,” Cindy said dreamily. “Don’t you? You look at a guy, and you say to yourself, well, he’s kind of cute, but nothing to call home about. But you watch him a little bit more. And before you know it, you’re all wet. Down there,” she added, nodded towards her crotch.

“And you start to wonder what he would be like in bed. If he knows what to do with his hands. If he is a good kisser or not. If he is good at foreplay. What his cock is like. Is it one of those sad little pencil-dicks, or is it a nice long thick one that you can have some fun with?”

Disbelieving, Dawn watched as Cindy pulled her skirt up into her lap and pushed her panties down her legs, pooling at her ankles. Her pouting lips gleamed red in the late-afternoon sun, her shaven mound glistening. Still talking, she drew a lingering finger up her slit, sighing as the tip parted her folds. She glanced over at her cousin, the swing slowly rocking.

See the entire review of “While the Cat’s Away” here.

Buy a copy of “While the Cat’s Away” here.



New Book Published – “Cutting Loose,” by Alana Church

Alana Church - Cutting Free #2 - Cutting Loose - Click Image to Close

Hello All:

Today’s new book completes the two-part “Cutting Free” series, the first of which is “Cutting Ties.” In the first book, Roy Lee McCoy fled his dying southern town of Deer Creek, Alabama, in order to get away from his alcoholic father, whom he had been supporting. In the process, he somehow managed to acquire his sexy Aunt Eileen as a traveling companion. Eileen was willing to do anything to get away from her abusive husband, and proved it by becoming Roy Lee’s lover during the trip.

Once they reached the sanctuary of Promise, Montana, they met up with Roy Lee’s mother, Jillian, who had left her husband years ago. In “Cutting Loose,” Jillian discovers the relationship between Roy Lee and Eileen, and the sparks of passion ignite her long-suppressed yearnings for a lover of her own.

See the excerpt below:

In her bedroom, she stared at her reflection, and wondered for the thousandth time if she was doing the right thing.

“Enough, Jilly,” she whispered to the image in the mirror. “Seduce your son, or don’t. But stop dithering. Choose.” She closed her eyes, then opened them.

“He is my son. And I want him.”

The wispy negligee was about three ounces of green fog, and it clung, gauzelike, to her hips and breasts as she walked into the living room. She strode slowly, maximizing her impact, smiling inwardly as Roy Lee’s gaze caught her and his eyes widened. She posed in front of the fireplace, knowing full well the light from behind threw her silhouette into stark relief, outlining her legs, hips, and breasts. Her body warmed under his glance as he squirmed awkwardly. She knew instinctively how she was affecting him, and her cheeks warmed as she imagined his magnificent cock hardening in his pants, preparing itself for her.

She sat on the couch and nudged him into the corner with one hip, pulling one her afghans off the back of the couch at the same time. She draped it over both of them, then leaned over to pick up her glass of wine, making sure her son got a good long look at the swells of her breasts.

They’re not as big as Elly’s, but they do the job. And no one has ever complained about them.


They watched the movie quietly, sometimes trading comments or laughing. After a little while, Jillian squirmed uncomfortably.

“Goodness sake, Roy Lee, how am I supposed to sit here with those jeans of yours scratching me? Why don’t you change into some of those sleep pants you got at the store? They’re warmer and more comfortable.”

Grumbling softly, her son got off the couch and padded around behind it to change. Unable to look without being completely obvious, Jillian glanced over to her sister, who was watching her nephew, laughter in her eyes.

Jillian caught Eileen’s eyes. Hard? Her mouth formed the word silently.

Eileen waggled her eyebrows. Oh, yeah. She grinned.

In a few moments, Roy Lee rejoined her on the couch. His arm was held awkwardly over his crotch in a vain effort to disguise his arousal. Jillian pretended not to notice and restarted the movie. She snuggled closer to her son and took another sip of wine, enjoying the heat as it sank deep into her belly, then flowed out into her limbs. She felt heavy and molten, suffused with languor.

Under the cover of the afghan, she laid a hand on her son’s thigh. It quivered under her touch, tense with strain. She snuggled in close to him, curling an arm around his waist and resting her face on his shoulder.

“Oh, this is so nice,” she said softly, drawing his arm around her. She wiggled happily under his warm touch, pretending to ignore the way his muscles trembled.

“So,” she said, giggling at the movie as an Englishman, exposed to American beer commercials, flew to Milwaukee to meet real American girls, “who do you think is the prettiest girl?”

“Her,” he replied, nodding to the TV, where Lucia Moniz was frolicking in a muddy lake with Colin Firth. “That Portuguese girl. She looks a lot like you. Her hair’s a bit darker, but the face is a lot like yours.”

“Flatterer. She’s ten years younger than I am.”

“The movie was made over ten years ago. So she’s probably around your age.”

“Hmmm…” Jillian paused, considering. She finished her wine, then set the glass down on the coffee table. She was completely relaxed. There was no longer any doubts in her mind, and her soul was untroubled. She took a long breath, then turned to face her son. Moving unhurriedly, she firmly set her hand on Roy Lee’s groin.

“So,” she whispered. “Is this for lovely Aurelia on the screen, or is it for me?” She curled her hand around his rock-hard cock, slowly rubbing through the soft cloth of his sleep pants.


I hope you all enjoy it. By the way, thanks for Becca Sinh for allowing me to use her creation of Promise, Montana, as a refuge for Roy Lee, Jillian, and Eileen. And thanks to Jo and Moira at Boruma for yet another great cover!




New Book Published: The Monk’s Lover

Alana Church - Guardians of Heklos #3 - The Monk's Lover - Click Image to Close

Hello, Borumaniacs!

I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked, but I’ve got a hot new offering for all of you!

“The Monk’s Lover” is the third installment in my four-part epic, “The Guardians of Heklos” (parts one and two can be found here and here). For those of you who are unfamiliar with the plot, the story follows a mother-son tandem of priests who are trying to keep their nation free of Christianity. Set in a pagan, pseudo-mythological country partially based on ancient Greece, they pit their wits against a monk and a nun chosen for their intelligence and virtue.

With the prompting of their Deity, Ariana  and Abiron engage in a contest against Sister Angela and Brother Paul. If they can sway the two Christians to the worship of their own Deity, the Christians will be forced to leave. If not, Heklos will be open to the Christians. Lots of sexy hijinks ensue!

See this excerpt:

As they waited for the priestess to arrive, Paul looked around. Aside from themselves, there were very few people in the temple. A few women, ranging in age from his own to two or even three decades more than Ariana, were near the sacred fire. As he watched, a young man, no more than seventeen, entered. He was met by a novice and led away.

“This temple does not seem to be very popular, my lady,” he said. “Or is there a special time or day to worship?”

“We all worship in our own way, Brother. Those who wish come and go as they will. No one is required to attend a service.” Ariana smiled, amused by his ignorance. She opened her mouth to tell him the special functions the priestesses of the Deity served in this temple, then thought better of it. No point working the lad up with tales of our licentiousness, she thought. Perhaps it had been a mistake to come here. Though Abiron had served her well and lustily over the past several days, this close to the sacred fire she could feel the Wanton rising within her. Her breasts warmed, and she felt a corresponding heat deep within her core. Unwillingly, she thought back to the sight of Paul, naked and dripping in the bathing pool. How sweet would it be, she thought, to take him, here and now. She clenched her teeth and fought back a surge of desire, moaning silently.

“Ariana! How wonderful to see you again!”

Her eyes popped open and she saw her old friend Pathia. She had changed little over the years. Shorter and more slender than Ariana, she had an open, expressive face and red hair that was a gift from some long-ago barbarian ancestor. With a cry of joy Ariana embraced her. For a moment, the Wanton fought free, and hidden from Paul’s view by her body, her hand rose up and caressed Pathia’s back. In turn, she felt Pathia’s hand on her belly, stroking softly.

“Naughty, shameful thing,” whispered Pathia hotly into her ear. “Do you have time for a romp?”

Ariana closed her eyes and fought down the tide of lust rising within her. Canting her eyes sideways at the priest hovering nearby, she shook her head. Hoping that Paul had not noticed anything, she turned to him. “Brother Paul, here is my dear friend, Priestess Pathia. We served as novices together many years ago.” She turned back to her former lover with a smile. “Do you now lead this temple?”

“I do,” said Pathia. She walked to Paul, hips swaying lazily. Her entire posture was one of barely-banked sensuality. “But I always have time for a well-formed body such as his. You have brought me a lovely present, Ariana.” She brought her hand up and ran it idly down his chest towards his stomach. Her eyes were bright, pupils wide with desire.

Paul swallowed through a throat suddenly bone-dry. His legs shook. His body, which he had calmed for a time, stiffened with almost painful urgency. Unbidden, a scene came to his mind, of Pathia under him, writhing naked on a bed while he pinned her in place.

“Yes,” moaned Pathia. She smiled heavy-lidded into his eyes, and he knew she had seen his innermost thoughts. “Let’s do that, shall we?” Her arms looped around his neck and she flowed up his body, body burning, mouth raised for a kiss.

All my thanks to Jo and Moira for a wonderful job on the artwork. This is one of my all-time favorite covers.

Follow the link and purchase “The Monk’s Lover” today!