Let's go Sexploring!

This month Nadine (Dini) Summers bursts upon the scene in the third book of the Sexplorations series. Only a week after its release its already garnering great reviews:

"MY FISHNET FETISH is just as wonderful as the first two books in the SEXPLORATIONS series. The friendship between Fenny, Dee and Dini is just as vital as the budding relationship between Dini and Jonas. The conversations between the women are simply delightful with phrases that are laugh out loud funny and leave a vivid image in your imagination. I could completely understand Dini’s reasoning for her outlook on sexual relationships and just how hard Jonas would have to work to change her mind. This is one of those rare stories, and series for that matter, that is an honest to goodness pleasure to read and certainly worthy of adding to the keeper shelf. Sahara Kelly and Ciana Stone have certainly pulled out all the stops and brought their wacky personalities to the forefront for this series – and I’m so thrilled to have had the opportunity to get to know these characters through the authors’ eyes. " - Romance Junkies

If you haven't gotten your copy yet, you're missing out on a laugh-out-loud, sizzling tale! Do pay a visit to the Sexplorations site where each month we have a new contest running.

And maybe it's time to think of having a little Sexploration of your own:)

Happy Weekend!!
Ci

A Public Service Announcement. Sort of...

While letting my sexy Hussy sisters carry the load here (and yes, guilt lays heavy on my shoulders), I have been keeping an eye on world news. So when I ran across an interesting article this morning, I figured it was the perfect topic to toss out here!!

It's about the inventive ways nations are developing to encourage their citizens to use condoms!! The Bill and Melinda Gates foundation kicked things off (making sure to understand guys don't get "microSOFT" while wearing a condom?)...the foundation sponsored the development of a ringtone that sings "Condom, condom" on Indian cell phones. Apparently in India, the attitude is that only prostitutes should wear them, but if your cell phone reminds you, it's hip, smooth, up to date and okay. (With the added benefit that you're announcing your protection to your potential object of lust, I guess.)

Ethiopians, who are on record as hating the smell of latex, now have a real perker-upper...coffee flavored condoms. These dark brown sheaths allegedly taste and smell like that Ethiopian favorite - the macchiato. (Please. No jokes about CREAM).

Australians decided to battle HIV infection by using trees. In western Australia, it seems that potential sex mates hang out beneath trees, meeting and picking out their partners. So nurses from local clinics have taken to hanging cans full of condoms on the lower branches. On average, 3000 disappear each month. (I know there's a joke in here somewhere, but I can't find it. Something about seeing the "Wood" for the trees? Er...you're creative. Insert your own joke here!!)

Argentina took the harsher route, creating a commercial with the tag line "Be Careful". It shows two skeletons in a sexual position. Talk about jumping a girl's bones....

And the Germans? Well, God bless these creative little devils. They've come up with a "Spray on" condom for those who are...um... hard to fit. (I'm sorry. This is a topic that just screams for humor. I'm fighting it.) While this invention sounds like the perfect solution, it also has it's drawbacks. Application occurs when men slide their penises into an applicator can, shaped like a phallus. The latex coats them from inside the can. Quote..."It FRIGHTENED many men during the testing phase..."Unquote. Application is accompanied by a loud hissing and the final result takes about three minutes to dry, also not appealing to potential users.

So remember, girls. We may complain about pills, IUD's and so on, but those poor guys don't always have it any easier.

They taste and smell like coffee, pick protection from a rubber tree, overcome their fear of turning into a skeleton, spray chemicals on their cocks and make sure they get a phone call so they can let you know they're protected.

Suddenly, the whole make-up and hair thing doesn't sound quite so bad, does it???

Here's wishing everyone a great November,
Cheers,
Sahara

(And if you want to read the entire article on these things, you can read it at CNN.com under "Living".)

Forbidden Fantasies

The following are two version of the same event, namely Ellora's Cave's first hardcover, Forbidden Fantasies, which launched today at Amazon.

Version # 1:
Now available from Amazon.com! Eight taboo tales from the hottest stars of erotic romance in one electrifying hardcover book! Published by Pocket Books. Featuring: Jaid Black, Jory Strong, Ann Jacobs, Sahara Kelly, Jaci Burton, Sherri L. King, Lorie O'Clare and Cheyenne McCray

Purchase October 14-18 to enter a drawing for a mini laptop computer and receive discounts on future purchases! Click here for details

Version # 2:
OMFG! SQUEEEE! *pant pant pant* It's, like, totally KEWL!!11! A loose sequel to Madam Charlie by none other than our very own Sahara!! Wooot! Go get it now! Now, I tell you! Follow the most excellent linkage and get thee to the Amazon. Don't make me hurt you! Plus, you could win a COMPUTER! Dude!

Can you spot the difference? Yes, I do get excited. Especially when the words "sequel" and "Madam Charlie" are in the same sentence. Bear with me, I waited *years* for this.

Who's Your Pimp

I have some pimping to do.

To the thousands upon thousands who have read Sahara Kelly's Madam Charlie (guilty, your Honor, and I loved every minute) in an array of languages because that book, it has traveled, you can now ditch your therapist because The Withdrawal, it is OVER.

Know why?

Forbidden Fantasies is coming, that's why. Not only is it Ellora's Cave's first hardcover, but our very own decadent Hussy Sahara is one of the fab authors therein. And her story is...

*drumroll*

Lady Elizabeth's Choice...as in, a loose sequel to Madam Charlie!

Yes, SEQUEL! I choose to ignore the word loose. It has sequel next to Madam Charlie so I'm happy. Dude, I'll take a "loose sequel" to Madam Charlie any day of the week.

To get you back in the mood after years of waiting, here are the essentials:

Madam Charlie

By Sahara Kelly

London, 1814:

A young woman inherits an interesting London house, Number 14 Beaulieu Crescent. Nothing unusual in that, you might say. And ordinarily you'd be right. But this time the "house" is actually a high-class brothel, and the young woman has a secret identity of her own that she must never reveal. Especially not to the man who brings her body to life, stirs her senses like no other, and who has begun his own campaign to unlock the mystery that is "Madam Charlie".

Lady Elizabeth’s Choice
By Sahara Kelly
This story is a loose sequel to Madam Charlie.

Several months ago she gave herself to him, body and soul, during a night of sexual enlightenment that changed her world forever. But since then, Lady Elizabeth Wentworth has reached a decision she believes is right for her. And her erstwhile lover, Sir Spencer Marchwood, isn’t part of it. She hasn’t forgotten him…how could she? He took her from innocent girl to sensual woman in a night of extraordinary delights. Such memories cannot be denied, only buried, relegated to her past as the private indiscretions of a foolish and impetuous girl. Needless to say, Spence is—upset. He’s plagued by memories of their passion, hungry for the taste of her lips and eager to hear her cries of pleasure once more. And it looks like that’s not going to happen—ever again. However, the resourceful Spence hatches a strategy to get Elizabeth’s attention and land her back in his arms—naked. Once that occurs, Spence knows he can claim her, body and soul, taking her to the edge of madness and beyond. It all comes down to one pivotal moment…the moment of Lady Elizabeth’s choice…

So come October 18th, get in line to buy Madam Charlie's loose sequel, erm, I mean, Forbidden Fantasies. Plus, if you buy the book early, your name is entered into a draw that could get you 25% off all your 2008 Ellora's Cave books. Dudes!

The Dreaded "R" Word...

Since it's June - summer for us in the Northern Hemisphere - I've been thinking a lot about vacations, travel and all that sort of thing. Plus we're in the middle of a hot political season as well. Both these topics crashed head-on into each other when I put gas in my car yesterday.

There's no two ways about it, nor any polite way of putting it - we're in a RECESSION, folks. The politicians can call it what they want, but when the cost of filling my gas tank nearly maxes out my credit card...when a gallon of milk requires I pass on the cookies to go with it...and when every bill I get in the mail is higher than the last one - yep. It's a recession, all right.

So I have to wonder how you all are managing, given our current financial crisis. And in particular, how it is affecting your reading. I'm a writer. I need to know these things!!!

So here's some questions for you - and I hope you have chance to answer them. Vent a little frustration, whine, rant..whatever you want.

Question One: Are you reading as much now as you did a year ago? I'm not. Besides the time thing, I have a habit of digging around in my bookshelf for old favorites and re-reading them now and again, especially on long hot summer afternoons. It's like spending time with old friends.

Question Two: When you do scrabble together enough pennies for a book, how are you choosing what you'll buy? Are you getting less-expensive books these days? Waiting for them to be reduced or end up on the Bargain aisle? Or are you saving up for that one new release from a favorite author?

Question Three: Are you sharing books with friends? Setting up your own little lending library? (Hint: Put your NAME inside those paperbacks. They'll get lost and won't be able to find their way home otherwise. I'm still missing a Nora Roberts someplace...)

Question Four: Are you having to make a choice these days between books and other things? I'm not sure there ARE "other things" but my family has this silly habit of complaining if I'm out of stuff like eggs and bread. Obviously they haven't realized the nourishment provided by a good book. (Also a diet aid if you bought it instead of double chocolate chip ice cream. Hmm. The Recession Diet? LOL)

I'm interested in knowing how you feel about all this. How your purchases - when it comes to reading - are affected by the overall financial situation going on right now. We're all feeling the pinch, tightening our belts and looking for ways to economize - and cover that damn fuel bill. Where do books rate on your priority list?

Oh...Question Five: Anybody know where I can find some cheap gas?

Kiss me or kill me?

Yesterday, Rachel raised a very interesting point that caught my attention. Why is it okay to portray the most horrid and gruesome side of human nature in all things artistic, but the most beautiful thing in the world is apparently taboo? How come when I turn on TV I can find "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" playing on several stations, but anything with "Nudity and Adult Situations" is relegated to late night viewing? Why - to condense the question - is bloodshed okay and lovemaking out of bounds?

Taking this into the world of novels - why is Agatha Christie considered a classic by many, yet Anais Nin considered porn by even more? Exactly who is it that said "Sure, go ahead. Slice his dick off. Just don't touch it lovingly." And even more importantly, WHY did they say it?

It's something I've never quite understood. I do know that every living organism on the face of our planet has two goals - to survive and to reproduce. To survive, occasionally it must kill. And to reproduce - yep...it's gotta have some sort of sexual interaction. For humans, one is pleasant, the other fatal. So where did the notion come from that the pleasant one is "dirty" and the fatal one "acceptable"?

I have a theory about all this. It goes back a very long time, all the way back to when our species was gaining sentience. (Sorry creationists. You might want to skip this discussion.) Back then, early man watched the females growing large with child. Watched them give birth in a process which was bloody, painful and completely miraculous. And got totally scared out of their wits. That fear of women and their apparently indescribable abilities became lodged in the male psyche. After all, in the immortal words of South Park's Mr. Garrity - "how the hell can you trust something that bleeds for five days a month and doesn't die?"

Several early civilizations were pretty gender-equal. The Sumerians are a good example. Women could own land and divorce if they were so inclined. But it didn't take long for men to begin suppressing that notion. No way were they going to permit these scary creatures that kind of power. No, let's tell them how precious they are and how we're going to protect them. And then along came organized religion to lock down the process.

That was back then. Now? Sexuality has become a matter of whispers, innuendos and dirty jokes. The human body is still regarded as "naughty" and those who display it as "immoral". Sex is taught to be something done for procreation, not recreation. We hand out weapons with less concern than we hand out condoms. Yes, that fear of the entire sexual experience is still with us, even though it's metamorphosed into the twenty first century version.

"Dexter" is a serial killer with a series on network television - edited, but there nonetheless. "Criminal Minds" doesn't hold back on the bloodletting. VERY occasionally, one or two bedroom scenes sneak in. But where does one go for the no-holds-barred sex? Cable networks...FX... "Nip/Tuck" and "Rescue Me". After ten o'clock of course.

And when it comes to erotic romance novels - well hell. We're sluts, "prostituting our integrity" according to one writer. (Who doesn't apparently sell well in her genre.) No matter the hours of research we put in, the background we've acquired in our chosen field or the popularity of our titles. We're tramps, whores, loose women with looser morals in our professional AND private lives, corrupting the innocent minds of our readers. And teaching them - what??? That sex is wonderful? That two naked people can share something beyond fabulous? That love encompasses more than hand-holding at sunset?

I refuse to even make the effort to defend what I write any more. I will staunchly defend my ability TO write, but not WHAT. I will not bow down before that moralistically unreal notion which says sex is dirty, but I will change the channel when something or someone gets dismembered. I will try to remember that the "Moral Majority" is NEITHER moral nor a majority. And I will ignore those petty enough to jab sharp sticks of jealousy into my chosen literary genre. Writing good sex is as complex and challenging as writing a good murder. I've done both and hope to do so again. If that gets your knickers in a twist, then tough nookies. Go watch the "Texas Chainsaw Massacre".

I'm gonna find myself something that says LOVE is what it's all about.

A Pair of Star-crossed Lovers....

That's how Shakespeare described Romeo and Juliet. Today, I'd describe them as a pair of horny teenagers who needed to be grounded, have the keys to the stable taken a way and get their bottoms soundly smacked. Yep, I have little patience with these two, classic theater notwithstanding.

They were both in their mid-teens, for starters. Okay, so back in the Bard's day that was marriageable age. Urgh. Can you imagine being married to some of the guys you dated in Junior High? Freshman year in High School? Both Romeo and Juliet suffered from the ohmigod syndrome - "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?"..."Wherefore art thou, Romeo?"... which translates today into "Yo, doll." and "Hey dude."

The Montagues and the Caplets needed a good dose of Dr. Phil. What happens when you tell kids with hormones leaking out their ears that they can't see someone? You got it. They break every rule in the book to do JUST THAT. So the families aren't totally blameless when it comes to star-crossing these teenage twits. And you can bet your quill that if there'd been any financial gain in uniting the families, Romeo would have been marched up the aisle beside Juliet in two seconds flat. Marriage was a sanctified business maneuver more than anything else in those days. Aha. Juliet doth bring a hefty 401K with her, which cans't enhance our coffers most righteously. Translation: Romeo, DO her, kid, with our blessings.

You may gather from this that I have little patience for the theme of star-crossed lovers. It worked for Will since he lived in a different age with different values. His words linger on today because of their magnificence...not necessarily because they're about idiot teens who wanna get laid. (I note Hamlet was also in his late teens. Which explains a lot.) But in this day and age? Star crossed lovers don't really work for me. If you're star crossed, you've screwed up somewhere or you're thinking with your hormones not your brains. It's the twenty-first century. I find it impossible to create a story of "star crossed lovers". I can't relate, and if I can't, then the story isn't going to work for readers, either.

The one exception? West Side Story. Maybe it's because it was set to music. Maybe that touch of lyrical magic - and songs that stay in your head for weeks on end - maybe the fact that it included men who could dance up a storm.... (Did you ever notice that women who like to dance marry men who don't? There's an interesting psychological theory in there someplace. But I digress...) Yeah, West Side Story did justice to those classic star-crossed lovers and suspended my belief enough that I could cry when Maria and Tony never got their happy ending. Er...I still do. LOL

So, having made poor Will Shakespeare cringe, if not roll over in his grave, I'll leave you with a parting thought for this Monday. Star crossed lovers need to get a life and work it out. And for the rest of us? Have a day like Maria! Feel PRETTY!!!

Waaaaahhhh! I MISS everyone!!!!!!

I cannot believe that it's OVER! We've waved our last farewell to Pittsburgh, given that last hug, wiped away that last tear and forked over fifty bucks to US Air for excess baggage weight. (Not in my hips for once, either!)

How to recap these past five days? I have no idea where to start. Right now, my heart is full - as it always is - with the love and warmth I get from RT conventions. Maybe I'll just list the things I miss this morning and you can get my drift.

I miss the "coffee klatch". Those wonderful folks who staggered blearily down to the restaurant, requested IV injections of caffeine, then wandered outside to sit next to the bushes like a flock of tired birds. (The Lesser Ruffled Staggerers?) This flock changed faces now and again, but there was a core of die hard chicks desperate for that morning hit. Plumage varied from pajamas and a robe to full makeup and hair (eeek!), depending on the day's schedule.

I miss the messages/voicemails on my cell phone from my Hussy sisters. (Where you at? Want breakfast/dinner/drinks/aspirins?) I miss Nat's twinkling smile, Nic's wicked chuckle and Ci...well, I miss everything about her.

I miss the moments of careful scheduling (if I take my shower now will my hair survive til tonight? Does the white top go with this? Where's my shoes? Can I get down 23 floors to the restaurant for coffee without makeup and not have anyone see me? If I don't wear my badge am I invisible?)

I miss the Hussy "sessions". Quiet moments stolen from all the fierce activity and enjoyed in the warm sunshine, tossing ideas around, laughing, (laughing a LOT), and generally enriching the experience of what it means to be a Hussy.

I miss the hugs and smiles I found myself getting from all the wonderful RT Virgins I helped deflower. (Metaphorically speaking.) And I miss the waves and grins (and occasional snicker) I got from my fellow authors and friends. I miss hugging Hussy Claudia every time we passed in the hotel corridor and trying to hug a cover model every time I passed him. I miss the urinals in the ladies' rest room. (Still haven't figured that one out, but no, nobody used them as far as I know.)

I miss knowing that tonight I get to swan around in yet another costume. Yep, girly thing, but dressing up does it for me. Hence the odd photos you'll see popping up now and again. For the record, I cannot twirl pasties and yes, now and again he makes my brown eyes blue. See next paragraph.

I miss my writing partner, Scott. Our new DUDE Hussy! Can't even go there right now because I'll start to cry or choke on the lump in my throat.

So did you pick up anything there that helps explain the RT craziness? No other way to put it - RT is all about the love! Love of the romance novels which unite reader and writer, reviewer and editor, publisher and bookseller. That love overflows into pools of friendship which deepen with every convention. It's a never-ending source of warmth and affection and I immerse myself in it each year, willingly, drowningly, not wanting to come up for air.

That's why I'm a bit lost this morning. My house is silent, my suitcase contents upchucked over the living room floor, my wardrobe for the day is "normal" and my heart is aching quite horribly. My ankles are returning to something approaching their usual size and I have to think about what's in the fridge. (Nothing's actually moving in there, so I guess that's a good thing, but a lot of stuff has to go!!!) Yep, I'm back in the "normal" world. But my head and my heart are still in that RT Happy Place - the bar. LOL It'll take a while to let it all go and pick up where I left off.

But I have my memories, my Hussy huggygals, my buddy Scott, and a glow in my heart that will keep me grinning.

And of course, NOW I have to start planning for NEXT YEAR!!!!!!

To everyone I met who reads this - thank you and much love!! To those who couldn't make it - I hope you can attend one year and share the love I've found. And to my fellow Hussies.... Nat said it best. I LOVE you all. (But not in that way!)

Live From RT - Sahara Kelly Reporting in...

Saraha snapped this great pic of from left to right - Nathalie Gray (Lethal Hussy), Ciana Stone (Rope 'n' Ride 'Em Hussy - note the sheriff's badge she lifted from an unsuspecting yeehaw!), and Nicole Austin (Naughty Hussy)

"Greetings from the world of multi cups of coffee - ie RT! Yep, coffee consumption goes up as the nights get later! But we're still alive and kicking, or at least twitching a bit. Last night's Ellora's Cave Fantasy party was a blast - there were some magnificent costumes and we Hussies managed to keep pace thanks to solid underwear and carefully applied theatrical tape! LOL The EC cover models joined the fun and were welcomed enthusiastically by a capacity crowd who shrieked, cheered and indulged themselves in the incredibly luscious chocolate fountain.

"The hotel is starting to make a bit of sense to our befuddled brains, but there's still quite a bit of cell phone contact between us Hussies as one or other of us forgets where we said we'd meet the others. RT scatterbrain syndrome has hit. We've been lucky with the weather so far, which has ranged from really quite toasty in the sunshine to briskly chilly at night, sending those from southern parts scurrying for sweats and wraps. Seeing so many wonderful friends again is just incredible and meeting new ones always a pleasure. Thus far, Sahara (and her co-host Amanda McIntyre) have deflowered over 200 RT virgins, metaphorically speaking. It's the largest enrollment in an RT convention yet - and wooo damn as our lethal Hussy Nat would say!

"So today (Thursday) we pull our weary rear ends out of bed and get ready for another day of meetings, seminars, missed cell phone calls, sore feet and hugs in the bar. Tonight we flit from magic glade to magic coral reef with the Faery Court. Time has stopped, taken a breath and turned itself inside out. We feel like we've been here forever or for just a minute or two, depending on the whim of a breeze. It's surreal, wonderful and exhausting. And I think I have time for ONE more cup of coffee -"

Hussy Hugs,
Sahara

Who doth occupy that lofty seat?

Yes, it's Monday and of course I'm running late today. Oh I was up early, swigging my drug of choice (vanilla coffee) and realizing I needed laundry in a HURRY! Hence the delay in my blog. I think better in clean underwear!!

So...who's on top, you ask? For me, that's an easy one. I'll take a lusty Lord, thank you. A Knight of the Realm. Whether jousting or soliciting my hand for a waltz, he's unquestionably in control, not about to be refused and staring at me with a great deal of heat in his gaze. (Hey. It's my fantasy! Let me enjoy it, okay?)

He is a man for the ages, a man of many faces - all of them rugged, desirable and guaranteed to put a flutter into a maiden's heart. (All right, let's not quibble about the "maiden" bit. Like I said, it's MY fantasy!!) And he dresses flamboyantly, secure enough in his masculinity to be able to deal with codpieces, ruffles, cloaks and hats. Isn't it a shame that part of history has vanished into denim and baseball caps? Sigh.

In case you're in doubt, you'll see below EXACTLY who I'm talkin' about. There isn't a dude out there who better represents my choice for WHO'S ON TOP!!! For anyone who persists in believing that the Historical romance novel is dead, I say "POO"!!! Just take a look at the inestimably perfect Mr. Darcy (aka Mr. Yummy Colin Firth). If this is "dead", move over in the casket because I want in!!! What do you think?

Um....

So I have the same problem - twenty five years this June with the same dude. And we're both still alive. Pretty impressive, I guess, even though I went through my share of frogs before I found my Prince.

However, that hasn't stopped me from getting inventive for this week's theme...

(Ahem)...

Give him a pain, Jane
Make a big scene, Jean
Knock him to the mat, Nat
Kiss another girl, Pearl
Blacken his eye, Ci
Push him out the gate, Kate
Shave both his legs, Meg
Lock him in the can, Ann
Abscond with his cash, Ash
Shove him in a pit, Kit
Fill his trousers with fleas, Reese
Hire a lawyer to sue, Rue
Run away with a cook, Brooke
Curl your lip and then hiss, Bliss
Laugh like hell at his bone, Joan
Kick him up the ass, Cass

...and set yourself free!!!

Keep goin' Hussies...I know I've missed some!!! And what better way to survive a Monday than playing along?

You know how to whistle, don't you Steve?

In this day and age, the word "subtle" isn't what it used to be. We discuss sex openly, chat about toys, positions and lovers, even the number and intensity of orgasms with often distressing candor. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, of course. However when I was lucky enough to score an early peek at "MAN OVERBOARD" by Lara Diamond, I was reminded why I adore old movies. Why the "noir" genre appeals to me so much, with its truly subtle sensuality that oozes sex rather than flaunts it. Go get this novel, my friends. It's fabulous!!!

But it also made me somewhat wistful for that age when women were "dolls" or "dames" - treated as something special by those guys who let their eyes roam over hips and curves with lustful appreciation. When car doors were opened without even thinking about it. When long gowns were expected for evenings and pants were something men wore to work. Sure, this is the glamorous take on the thirties and women have earned the right to stand shoulder to shoulder with men. No arguments from me on how right that is. Gender equality is a worthy goal and we should continue our battle to achieve it.

But...we've sacrificed something on the journey, I'm thinking. We've lost the art of subtle seduction. We've reached a point where sex is represented by a mostly naked model in skimpy silk and wings. Where commercials show people in bed and movies aren't considered complete unless somebody gets naked at least once. Nipples and breasts are all over the place and nudity is getting to be commonplace along with personally intimate sexual details. It's the twenty-first century, and mostly I'm okay with all this. I write hotly explicit sex scenes that readers seem to enjoy and I have fun doing it.

However, there are one or two moments when I think back to some of my favorite old films - the "Noir" films that linger at the top of the classic movie lists. And I wonder if we'll ever recapture that ability to be seductive with our clothes ON. If you don't think that's possible, then I invite you to check out the movie clip below. This is one of the HOTTEST scenes ever filmed, IMHO - sparks are leaping between Bogart and Bacall. It's in the eyes, the expressions and the dialogue. They're dressed but there's not a doubt in anyone's mind that the only thing they're thinking about at these moments is sex.

Lauren Bacall was (I think) nineteen when she filmed this particular movie. Yet to me, she exudes more flat-out sexual appeal in these few seconds than all the dimwitted blonde celebrities of today, combined with every Victoria's secret model ever photographed. If I had the choice to be a sex Goddess for the twenty first century, or a siren of the thirties - well, I know which one I'd pick.

And I defy a man to walk away from my question...."You know how to whistle, don't you Steve?"

Gimme Dat Thing!!!

When it comes to human behavior, the urge to seize something precious and hold on to it is right up there with food and sex. We've all got our "THING". Shoes? Nice things, Nat. Books? Darn it, Ci, that's one of my things too.

My sister Hussies blogs urged me to indulge in a few moments of contemplation in search of my thing. Like Nat, I knew it had to be something I craved mightily, and like Ci I knew it had to be more than the usual "stuff", eclectic though it is, that I've accumulated over the years.

It took a while, but I finally arrived at its doorstep, knocked on its door and stared it in the face.

I LOVE dressing up!!!! THAT'S my thing!!!!

Why? I have no clue, although psychiatrists would probably have a field day delving into the reasons for my passion. I'm hiding? Pretending to be someone else? Avoiding reality? Who the hell knows or cares? If it swooshes, I'm there. Does it glitter or sparkle? I'm so on it - like white on rice. If it has a corset and a long skirt - well, we're into semi-orgasmic territory. I spend a lot of time window shopping on eBay - sighing over divine Gothic fairy dresses, lusting for lavish pageant gowns and drooling over Renaissance rigs that would require a room of their own just to sleep at night. I adore Victorian nightgowns and Edwardian day dresses. I know the difference between a chemise and a surplice. I have a sewing machine and an imagination and I use both. I also have a closet that has one section jammed with costumes. If ever my supermarket has "Free Ice Cream for Wenches" day, I'm there!!!! I have corsets and petticoats, cloaks and crowns. I love sparkle, glitter, sequins and beads.

Is there something wrong with me? Maybe. But honestly? I like whatever it is that's warped in my head. I have two X chromosomes. I'm a girl. I like dressing up. I like swooshing and swanning in silks that rustle around my ankles. I like leaving the jeans behind for soft cotton, the sports bra for an uplifting corset. The only problem with my passion is that I only get to exercise it a couple of times a year. (Plus folks really need to understand women need POCKETS in their costumes!!!!) Other than those two points, I'm really okay with my thing. I have it under control. Well, most of the time. There are, of course, one or two days when I pass on housework because I just HAVE to make sure that Juliet gown still fits....

Which leads me to the title of this post...and the associated song. The video really has nothing to do with the topic, but I don't see why I should be the only person with this darned music stuck in my brains all day. (Grin)

Do we need a different hero?

Their legs brushed as he moved, so sure, so confident... "Wait...is that right?" She hesitated.

"Trust me." Low and heated, he answered her, moving even further into her darkest places, hands searching, touching, stroking - secure in the way of a man who knew what he was doing.

"I do." She breathed the words, afraid to break the magic of the moment.
His back arched and he froze in place...she felt a tingle from her toes to her eybrows. "Oh Lord..."

"There. Got it."
Her monitor flickered to life and she bit back a cry of delight. He'd done it. He'd fixed her computer. Yeah, sometimes a working computer IS better than an orgasm. She smiled at her own thoughts, then looked down. From this angle, tucked under her desk, he really did have a nice ass!

So that was fun. And something that isn't out of place in a hot erotic romance novel. But yes, I'm as guilty as the next author when it comes to making those heroes out-of-the-ordinary guys. Dukes, warlords, CEO's... sure. Barons and knights, Lords and Earls - you won't find too many humble dudes with everyday jobs in erotic romances. I confess, there is a lure to authors in this kind of man, the alpha male type we know and love.

So where (as my sister Hussy so poignantly asked) are the accountants? The shepherds? The tech support guys? Personally, I draw the line at tech support. If you've ever been on the phone, listening to soppy music, while some dude who says his name is Ross (but you know it's actually Mumble Jumble, he's twelve years old - or sounds it - and his 'office' is in Outer Burundi) mispronounces your name and tries to help you get your operating system to function - well, it ain't pretty and it sure isn't something I want in my next novel.

Putting personal issues aside, though, it is very true that most romance heroes fit a certain mold. This makes it easier for us writers, of course. A strong point in its favor. We're not lazy, but we're human. Plus undercover cops probably have more exciting cases than cops on the beat.

A CEO has money (nice dinners and a cool place to seduce the heroine), while Frank in Cubicle B shares a fourth floor apartment with two roomies and a cat. Again, it's a challenge to make hot romance work amidst Guitar Hero, World of Warcraft and kitty litter. Dukes can hop into their carriages or onto their finest steeds at the drop of a cloak, rather than having to walk five miles over hill and dale to rescue/seduce/claim their heroine, always assuming they've got the breath left to do it when they get there.

So, yes, it's convenient to have a top-of-the-pile hero. And when you take this thought one step further - it's what GOT them to the top-of-the-pile that makes them a hero. They have guts, spunk, moxie, charm, drive and passion. (Well, Dukes and Lords are born into it, but we'll ignore that because it mucks up my argument. That's called Literary License. :) ) The very features that create these men propel them into the role of hero when it comes to spicy romances. They're not afraid to take risks with their careers and they're not afraid to take the heroine to exquisite heights. Or twentieth floor penthouses, whichever comes first. A fine Chardonnay is more conducive to romance than a six-pack of lite beer.

Is there a point here? Yep. We LIVE with the six-pack, cubicle B, kitty litter guy. We wash his shorts, prepare his food and occasionally bear his children. We love him, we're committed to a life with him, and it's all good.

BUT...when we open that romance novel? We'd like to see our heroine doing improbably hot and gymnastic type things with a guy we don't know. A fantasy man who isn't really much like anyone we've ever met. We'd like to lose ourselves for a couple of hours in a world of silk and lace, elegant dinners and fabulous sheets, sleek spacecraft and dark vampire passions.

In other words, we don't really need another hero in our lives - the one we have is just perfect, be he accountant, plumber or CEO. But in our romance novels? Yes. That's where we need and adore the totally unreal dude. It's all about the wonders of escapist fantasy, folks. Come travel with me to a place where things are different - men are different - and leave the everyday stuff behind for an hour or two. Come curtsey to that wicked Lord, flirt with that bold knight, go toe-to-toe with that lusty alien starship captain and succumb to the seductive tones of the CEO in the back of the limo. None of them will ask you to wash his shorts, or what's for dinner.

They're not real. But then again, we write fiction. And that's what "fiction" means - a creation of our minds. And, in the case of erotic romance authors, a few other bits as well. But we won't go into that here.

All of which has nothing much to do with surviving Monday, but I will note that one or two fantasies about my heroes (and possibly Mr. Clooney who has the added advantage of being quite REAL and thus unique) have helped me survive the first day of the week. So maybe today's the day for you to dig up that book with that ONE hero who really did it for ya. Let him do it again. After all, he's a fantasy man with no limits on his prowess. He can do it as many times as you want.

Ah yeah....ain't fiction grand?

Ripe Cheese

As the title suggests, I'm going to talk about age today. Yeah, Monday's aren't great for that topic, but we CAN survive it. I will admit to being of "A Certain Age" - which is the French way of saying I'm someplace in between 45 and the obituary column. (Vive La France.)

I don't usually pay much attention to it, unless I happen to get into one of "those" conversations with my mother. The one that goes something like... "Dear, don't you think your hair's a bit long for a woman your age?" ... or... "You're showing a lot of cleavage for a woman your age, dear." Now, my mom is a wonderful woman. She is still, however, solidly in the Buckingham Palace mindset when it comes to appearance/age. I think she hopes to see me in a permed short "do" wearing a tasteful twinset and pearls.

Sorry, mom, ain't gonna happen. As far as the hair thing goes? My initial response is... "Hell yeah, I need long hair. What else is hubby gonna grab when he's riding me doggy style?" Okay, not really usable when talking to one's mother. And the cleavage - "No, I don't think I'm showing too much. My nipples are hidden, aren't they?" Also not terribly appropriate for daugher/mother discussions. I could answer these points individually, but it won't help much. Because mom doesn't understand that for so many of us these days, age is mind over matter. We don't mind, so it don't matter.

Sure, we look in the mirror on some Mondays and wonder what the hell happened. But there are other days when we take a look at a vibrant face, full of experience, wisdom and the humor to deal with it all. I think women should be labeled "ripe", not mature. I don't feel mature. I feel ripe - ripe for fun, ripe for laughter (and yes, ripe for a nap now and again, I'll confess. LOL) We have years behind us that have enriched us and made us who we are right now. We know more about sex than half the experts and have the medications to ease the cramped muscles which occasionally result. Are we gorgeous? Depends on your point of view. My point of view says "don't stand me next to a Victoria's secret model and I can shoot for "elegant", if not gorgeous." That works just fine for me.

I truly believe that surviving Mondays has a lot to do with how we perceive ourselves. I've never been able to convince Mom that a scrawl on a calendar has NOTHING to do with age. That long hair works for me. That cleavage, when displayed appropriately, is an excellent distraction away from the other bits I don't want noticed. I love my Mom and she loves me in spite of the hair and the tits. So we don't always see eye-to-eye on appearance and behavior. (RT convention photos of me cuddling a variety of cover models - well, I think she's still hyperventilating over those! LOL) She views me as her eldest daughter. Her grown-up daughter. The mother of her college-aged grandson. I'm all those things. But those aren't notches on the tightening belt of age. They're part and parcel of a chunk of ripe cheese that's sitting happily alongside a bevy of other ripe cheeses and enjoying life to the fullest whenever possible.

So this Monday, I will groom my long hair, tuck my girls into my engineered marvel of a bra and strut my stuff around my house. (Okay, covered by layers of warm clothing, but you get the idea.) How old we are isn't measured by a calendar on a fridge. It's measured by the life in our hearts. It's measured by the passion in our souls not the number of times we have to get the grey out of our hair. Somedays I feel like I'm a hundred-and-two. Other days - I'm twelve. I'm a woman of a "certain age" - I'm a HUSSY - and I have long hair.

If you're a "ripe cheese" or heading that way, let me know how YOU deal with the whole thing? I'd love to hear!!!

That Moral Monday Mindset...

Come Monday morning, it's hard to remember that there are things in this world that really turn us on! Mondays are about beginning the work week (where's my car keys?), getting the kids off to school (no, you can't take the cat for Show and Tell) and organizing your life (Eeeek. I'm out of clean underwear!).

It's funny how a date on the calendar can shape our thinking. On Saturday, we were all about the shaved legs and the handsome waist we planned on wrapping them around. Now it's cereal, coffee and lunch boxes.

Ever wonder why? Are we supposed to put aside the sexual components of our brains while we figure out where little Johnny's gerbil is hiding?
Yep, women are lauded for being able to step from wanton woman into wife/mother without missing a beat. Do men? Since they apparently have sexual thoughts at least every other minute, I doubt it. While we're on our knees looking for the gerbil under the heating duct, our significant other is probably staring at our ass and having decadently naughty thoughts about it.

I say it's time for equality, girls. Let HIM look for the damn gerbil while WE admire HIS ass. If we want some satisfying time between the sheets on a Monday, then why the hell not? Time to shift the balance a little bit. Share those evening chores (so what if he forgets to wash behind your kid's ears?) while you indulge in an after dinner glass of wine. Your bathrobe may be fuzzy and lined with flannel, but the mere suggestion that there's not much of anything underneath and your children will get the quickest bath they've ever had and be tucked down for the night in record time.

Yep, Mondays can work for sex. Any day can work for sex. All we have to do is get our weekend mindset into place - and then go for it!!! Everything that turned us on last Saturday night (that would be a warm smile, a kiss, a George Clooney movie or an erotic romance - by a HUSSY of course [grin]) - it's all still there. You got the urge on a Monday? You got that itch that needs a good male scratchin'? There isn't a man alive who'd turn you down.

It's all in your head, sister Hussies! The calendar may say Monday, but if your head and other places are singing about Saturday night... let the good times roll!!

(And for our friends in primary election states this week...
I'm Sahara Kelly and I approved this message)

Those darn resolutions...

Why do we make New Year's Resolutions anyway? Why not Arbor day resolutions? Cinqo De Mayo resolutions? I figure it's to make our hangovers feel even worse when we break them in the first few hours of New Year's Day.

So this year, I'm going to survive THIS particular Monday by being VERY careful about my personal new year's resolutions. Here they are.

1) I resolve not to give in to George Clooney. Sorry, George. You're a wonderful guy but it wouldn't work between us. Sigh.

2) I resolve to not buy a new shampoo until I've finished the old one. That way I won't feature in a headline screaming "New England writer killed by landslide from her own bathroom cabinet. Husband presses wrongful death lawsuit against Revlon".

3) I will not read/watch/glance at anything involving anyone with the last name of Spears.

4) I will let my eyebrows fill in. (I was told to do this, since I apparently overpluck. Who knew?)

5) Once a week I will turn on the radio and listen to something by an artist I haven't heard of. I will do so with a bottle of aspirin and earplugs if necessary, but at least if I'm asked what I think of "Nuts and Bolts in a Tin Can"'s latest release, I will know the group.

6) I will water my plants before they droop and gag harshly.

7) I will never forget to get my coffee ready last thing at night. (Mornings tend to be ugly when this happens.)

8) I will remember that eBay is a financial black hole that swallows money. I do NOT need more than one Timmy Woods purse.

9) I will attempt to learn how to use my new iPod, thus losing my i-virginity. If this fails, I will at least design my own skin for it so it looks like I know how to use it.

10) I will try to tell important people in my life how much they matter. I shall ignore my kid's groan, my husband's casual grin and my friends' rolling eyes. Don't care. You matter? You're gonna hear it.

Hey...you...yes, you reading this... You MATTER!!! A lot! And I wish you a wonderful New Year with buckets of love and happiness!

So there we are. I've already kept one resolution...what are yours?
(Oh...er...I did sort of flunk one of 'em though. George? Call me, honey - maybe we can work something out...)

2007 was great. In 2008 ....

Yep, 2008 is going to be spectacular!

From all The Hussies to all of our readers, fans, supporters, fellow authors and Hussy Sistahs on Yahoo... thank you for making 2007 a great year. We look forward to you being part of our lives (and fun) in 2008!

May the New Year bring all your dreams come true and bless you with health, happiness and lots of Hussy fun!

Cheers :)
The Hussies: Ciana, Sally, Sahara, Nic and Nicole

Merry Christmas

Yep - you've made it to Christmas Eve! Bravo - give yourself a round of applause. The worst of it all is behind you - the shopping, the wrapping, the scratching your head over what to give that one person who's got everything - you know the kind of thing. So today - you don't need to survive - you need to ENJOY. Tomorrow will be chaos for most of us. Today? It's a special moment to take a breath and wish the world a Merry Christmas. A day to smile at a stranger, hug a friend and tell those dear to you that you love them. Maybe taking time away from the kitchen to watch a favorite Christmas special - did you catch the Grinch this year? Or maybe put on a radio station playing Christmas carols, and sing along.

However you spend your day, try to relish every moment. If possible, see today through the eyes of the child inside you. The excitement, the awe as the Christmas lights come on - they shine a little brighter today, don't they? All of us forget sometimes that Christmas didn't used to be about video game systems or fifteen foot pre-lit trees that rotate to music. It used to be about a house smelling of fresh baked goodies, evergreen wreaths over the fireplace and the knock on the door as friends dropped by. It is still about those things...or it can be. Let some of that true Christmas spirit into your heart today. Smile,laugh, forgive your little one for asking you AGAIN if Santa's gonna make it to your house even though you don't have a chimney!

Share the love today, folks. Even if it's just a funny email to an old friend. It'll do wonders for your stress levels and release those pleasure endorphins. And tonight, hold that lover of yours close if you can. Let visions of sugarplums dance their way into both your heads - and if you have small children you might want to skip the sex tonight, since kids tend to wake up every hour on the hour to check under the tree! (Mine used to, anyway! LOL)

Merry Christmas to all - today will be a Monday to cherish rather than survive! I hope everyone can feel the warmth of the season and share some Hussy Happiness!!

Take a BATH!!!

No, that wasn't a comment on your personal hygiene - the Internet's good, but not that good yet. Thank heavens.

I'm talking about soaking in an honest-to-God tub full of hot bubbly water!!! In this day of rapid fire conversation, sound bites and instant everything, we tend to "grab a shower" more often than not. In, lather, rinse, repeat and out. We're clean, but are we soothed?

Right now Mondays are hectic, crammed with last minute holiday stuff and your shower is probably even quicker than usual. So here's my suggestion for surviving Monday this week.

Hit your local drug store, fork out four bucks for a tube of something flowery and fragrant in the way of shower/bath gel (lavender is lovely - and so is jasmine!) and then treat yourself to something fun - a foot care brush with scrubber or something. Don't spend over nine or ten dollars total. This isn't about lazing around with champagne and candles and your lover. If you've got the time and the cash, great. If you've got a lover with that kind of time to spare, even better - and more power to you. Most of us haven't.

So - you've got your little treats. All you need is ten minutes!!! Turn on the tub and put a good dollop of your gel under the water. While the tub is filling with fragrant bubbles, clean the sink, change the towels and do those bathroom chores you always do. Why waste time waiting for the tub to fill? It's about multitasking these days. When the tub is ready for you, get your hair out of the way and sink in, letting that warm scented air fill your lungs as you do so.

Now....wash. Just the same as if you were in the shower. You may not be lingering, but you ARE relaxing. Grab your foot care gizmo and lather your feet - then treat them to exfoliation, stimulation, a good scrub and a wee bit of massage. Combined with the soothing sensation of warm water cradling your body and a pair of feet that have been tenderly nurtured...well, hell, girl - you're ready for anything!!!! (If you've overdone the bubbles, drain the tub and then turn on the shower briefly just to rinse them away. Er..make sure you stand back a bit in case the shower water is cooler than the bath water. That falls under the heading of "eeek"!!)

See? Ten minutes - not much longer than that shower - and you have a clean bathroom, fresh towels and best of all... a mind and body that are calm, relaxed and ready to embrace whatever the day may bring. At the very least, you'll be soothed enough not to kill anything. Given the demands of the holiday season, I think that state of mind is a good thing!!

If anyone needs me, I'll be in the tub. I might just stay there until Spring!!! (grin)