I remember stumbling across erotic fiction in my mid-teens. Every time I opened the book it was like white heat pouring from the page. It was scandalous. Daring. Exciting. A woman was writing about the united beating of heart and sex that together can create ecstasy. And oh, such ecstasy! I didn’t really know what any of it meant, but I knew one thing: the author loved the way sex melted two people into one. She craved the surrender that was at once both beautiful and terrifying.