I've always been a fan of Cleis, who've never published a bad book yet in my estimation. Their collection of anthologies feature beautifully-written stories, wonderfully edited and tailored seamlessly to particular kinks and audiences; which is the the brand's strength.

But until Carnal Machines, I'd never experienced what really makes Cleis special - a book that's seemingly written specifically for you. That's what they do best - identifying a kink and focusing sharply on exploring it with their collection of stories.

For me, that 'kink' is steampunk. I've always been a fan of the blended amalgam of Victoriana and science fiction. Airships, clockwork robots and the worlds created by my favorite authors - Sir Arther Conan Doyle, H.G. Wells and Jules Verne - are scintillatingly sexy to me even if they're not explicitly, or even intentionally, erotic.

It's the world of steampunk that plays backdrop to the stories within Carnal Machines. A collection of tales that encompass airship pirates, robot chambermaids, steam-powered sex machines and clockwork vibrators. Each saucy tale has the scent of brass polish and coal smoke to it; and features the same elegant writing and sharp sexiness readers have come to expect from Cleis publications.

I was very impressed. You'd think a combination like sex and steampunk would be a no brainer, but before I opened the covers of Carnal Machines I'd had reservations. Erotica is tough enough to write as it is. Throw in a fantasy element, and most authors lose themselves in "world building" and forget it's the human (and sexual) elements their readers are more interested in.

Taut editing and good writing make sure that doesn't happen with this collection; which manages to make every self-contained story come to life on the page, without having to read reams of exposition to understand the subtle social and technological backdrop.