A group of crazy, neurotic, absolutely hilarious erotic romance authors working together to corrupt the world... one reader at a time.

Monday, April 8, 2013

A Hot Mess

If I wasn’t a writer….hmm. Interesting question. Which path should I go down, the sensible path or the wild and crazy insensible one? I think I’m leaning to the wild, crazy insensible one.
Things I’ve wanted to be over the years: rich, pilot, business executive, artist, travel agent, architect, singer (gawd help us), chef, horse trainer/breeder, jockey, sugar baby, marine biologist, interior designer…oh I could go on but I won’t. It’s too boring for you and depressing for me.

What have I been? Clerk, mother, secretary, marketing specialist, student, bus driver, scuba diver, advertising manager, wife, stressed.

What am I? Mom, daughter, sister, Meat Man’s lady, ex-wife, friend, employee, aunt, pet owner, writer,
author, jack of all trades, artist, tired.

Where I wish I was? (sure its not part of the question but hey) Independently wealthy so I only needed to count on myself and do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. Ideally, parked on a private beach, in a little grass shack, with all the comforts of course, under a palm tree so I could watch the sun go down and the sea roll in.

I’m Aquarian, and we like to be different, eccentric and at times proud of it. Sadly, we only get one trip around the sun, unless you believe in multiple lives which I’m still pondering, so any paths stepped on that may not be where I wanted to go are still opportunities and experiences. Trying to make the most of the one trip is the name of the game.

So back to if I wasn’t a writer? You know, I have no clue. Looking back though, it seems all I’ve ever wanted to do is write. Right from the first story I created about a horse in Grade 11 and conjuring tales about the Bay City Rollers on the walk to and from high school with my friend – just dated myself didn’t I :). Right through my 20’s, 30’s and finally into my 40’s I pondered and dabbled writing. Writing ad copy carried me through the 40’s until I finally got focused and finished a story and got it published.

The the black and white pic is a blast from the past. It's me at 17, in the high school cafeteria with some friends. Back when I wrote my first horse story :) I'm the one with the coke bottle glasses LOL

All the crazy words in my head would most likely explode into a hot mess if I wasn’t a writer. And that’s the truth. 

 A girls’ night out for a pole dance workshop at her friend’s upscale sex club takes a wild turn for normally timid Karen. She knew what to expect, but not how far she’d be willing to go.
Rob comes to Desire After Dark as a plus one. His only expectation is visual stimulation, not participation. But that soon changes when he spots the buttoned-up-to-there beauty hanging around on the sidelines.
Thrown together, Karen and Rob find the sexual heat between them undeniable. Surrounded by twosomes and moresomes, they step on an unexpected and steamy path. But when another joins in, they have a plus one of their own.


“So, Karen, did you want to go in?” Wendy asked her.
“I didn’t bring a suit.”
“Well, we can fix that.” Wendy peeled off her bikini top and stripped her bottoms down her legs. Rob tried not to ogle his friend. He knew she had great tits but seeing them now, bare, exposed to him, was the last thing he expected.
Karen looked at Wendy and chewed her lower lip. Would she or wouldn’t she strip? Take off her very businesslike clothes. Rob realized he was anticipating her
Plus One
answer and wishing she’d make up her mind quickly. He wanted to lay eyes on her hidden body and see if she was really as smoking hot as he thought she was.
“So?” Wendy asked her again.
Karen gulped the last of her wine and set the glass on a table. “What the hell? Why not?” She looked at Rob. “Are you coming in too?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Yep. Sounds like a great plan.”
She smiled and he returned it. Looked as if he might be getting some tonight after all. He watched her undo the buttons on her blouse and sucked in a breath when the mauve bra, cradling her very nice tits, was exposed to him.
She met his gaze and it was as if her mannerisms suddenly changed from shy to temptress. Every move smooth and controlled as she stripped until she stood in only her bra and panties.
“I thought you were coming in too?” Her voice held a note of teasing.
“Don’t worry. I am. But your little strip there was too entertaining to miss.” He whipped off his shirt and jeans, tossing them on the chair. She dropped her gaze to his briefs and smiled. He was hard and in charge. If she wanted to see, he would show her, and his shorts landed on the pile of clothes.

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  1. Awesome post, Hon. I'm there with you...save a spot in the grass hut!! ;)

  2. I will for sure! Promise to make your rum punch and rum cake?