Juicy Mangos The Best Latina Erotica

Editor's Letter Sweet, juicy mangos. The soft sound of Spanish drifting from glossedlips...congas pulsing on a crowded beach...women drinking passion-fruitmargaritas as they shake their generous curves in time...exposedbacksides of wet, tanned flesh. The word Latina seems almost synonymouswith erotica, as naturally connected as bodies that sticktogether on a dance floor. When Johanna Castillo, an editor at Atria Books, called to ask me tocoordinate the first-ever English-language Latina erotic fictionanthology, I responded as any self-respecting Latina would: I pumped upmy sex appeal -- even though I consider myself a major nerd. "Erotica?Claro que si," I whispered into the phone in Spanish, my hand tuckedseductively around my mouth, so my co-workers wouldn't hear. "I coulddefinitely do that. I love erotica." I made sure to use the Spanishpronunciation of the word, exaggerating the r in erotica so that my sexyEcuadorian editor would know I was the real thing. Then I hung up thephone, went to the ladies room, and broke into a cold sweat. "Erotica,what was I thinking?" My head was spinning. "All I know about eroticacan be summed up in the three dusty books I store behind the Harry Potterseries on my bookshelves. How am I going to be able to attach my name toa cover that could possibly feature a naked body? What if my abuelitafinds out?" When I went to bed that night, an even more serious concerndawned on me. "What the hell am I supposed to write about?" I resolved that night to call the editor first thing in the morning andtell her, sheepishly, that I wasn't the right one for the job. The next morning I woke up ashamed. How could I doubt a great opportunitylike this? Wasn't it passe for the postSex and the Citygeneration to even blink an eye over erotica? But I knew I wasn't worriedabout the response from my trendy, cynical Anglo friends, who joke easilyover the right brand of vibrator and wild nights at strip clubs. This bookwould be for Latinas, the women who are capable of shaking their asses tothe latest merengue one night and casually considering re-virginationsurgery another. No matter how deep our cleavages or short our skirts, Latinas don't liketalking about sex. Years of Catholic and other strict upbringings havetaught us that being labeled asucia, despite what bestselling novelswill tell you, is definitely a bad thing. And yet our images everywheresmack of sex: Even the latest cover ofMaximlooks like it's for achildren's book compared to the front pages of our racy Spanish-languagemagazines (not to mention the amped-up swimsuit segments of our mega beautycontests -- theSports IllustratedSwimsuit Calendar's got nothin'onCosmoen Espanol). A lot of my feminista sisters havecriticized our obsession with beauty and seeming sexual objectification,and I've enthusiastically agreed with them in the past. But as I see a tideof fundamentalism take over the headlines around the world, I can't helpbut feel that our bold, clothes-shedding ways are a good thing -- anin-your-face reminder of our strength. But the world of our own Latina desires and fantasies has lived in a shroudof silence for too long. It's as if, when the men who shoot the photos andthe women who judge the contests look away, our sexuality evaporates,leaving innocent, stuttering schoolgirls in their wake. It's high time weshattered our silence and talked about what sex is like from our ownperspectivas. What is the temptress on the cover ofTV y Novelasmagazine fantasizing about as she pouts for the camera? What's it like forus when we leave the lights on? InJuicy Mangos, seven award-winning Latina writers tell hot eroticstories featuring strong Hispanic women -- and delMulligan, Michelle Herrera is the author of 'Juicy Mangos The Best Latina Erotica', published 2007 under ISBN 9780743294447 and ISBN 0743294440.