I finished a new story a couple days ago. I’m calling this one Sis and Her Friend, which no doubt tells you that it won’t be going to Amazon any time soon. I’ve sent it to Lot’s Cave, where no one has any trouble with a little fictional incest–or much anything else, for that matter. They may decide to submit it for Kindle, but I doubt it would be accepted. Any time your hero starts off masturbating with his sister, and ends up screwing his mother, it’s unlikely the story will pass muster with Amazon’s censors, who don’t care so much about legality–stories like that are completely legal, since they don’t involve real people–as they do about whether some reader will complain because Jesus told him not to do that. Hell, Amazon will turn down a book because there are tits on the cover. (That’s not the actual cover, by the way.)
People sometimes ask me why I write incest stories. Honestly, I write them because they sell. Sex stories sell in any case, but sex stories featuring close relatives sell even better. There are no doubt psychological reasons behind that. I’m not sure what they are, exactly. Perhaps the idea that sex is permitted, but sex with relatives isn’t. Not in our culture, at least. There are a number of countries where it’s perfectly legal to have sex with your parent, child, or sibling as long as everyone is an adult at the time. This is why “genuine” incest porn tends to come from places like Japan and France, where the restrictions involve marriage but not sex.
Obviously, not everything I write involves incest. Lust for Blood doesn’t, though there may be a moment here and there when you start to wonder if it’s going to. It very nearly did, until I realized I potentially had a mainstream novel on my hands. So the brief moments went away, or were modified to eliminate any genuine incest between Lord Muntglare and his sister and substitute, perhaps, something implied but not something you could be sure of. He’s photographed her naked, and he’s known for seducing his models, but whether there was anything untoward betwixt the noble siblings is never even mentioned.
Lady Anna, in any case, is far more interested in having sex with her school friend, Suzanne, or with her lady’s maid, than she is in bedding any man. Suzanne is more flexible, sleeping happily with Lady Anna, but apparently just as happily romping in the forest with the earl. She comes from the professional class, her father having been a barrister, but not the nobility, so perhaps she’s thinking in terms of her long-term financial security as much as of sexual satisfaction.
Or she may just be bi. You get to decide that when you read the story.
And I really wish that you would. It’s quite a good story, with a decidedly Victorian feel.