Could a femdom book have the popularity of 50 Shades?

I haven't read 50 Shades, but I was thrilled to hear people discussing it openly. I work in retail and overheard women passing by the shelves crowded with copies and discussing the book. They kind of talked as if they were a little shy about it, yet they were comfortable enough to be overheard by me. A poker dealer couldn't stop talking about how badly she wanted to go home and start reading it again and that was with a table of customers listening.

Now, and here's a giant leap, but for the sake of discussion, if you imagine a bell curve of maledom readers, you have enthusiasts on one end and those with no interest on the other. In the middle, you have a majority who might or might not want to ever experiment with any real life submissive activity, but who enjoy or get turned on reading about female submission and experiencing it in that fantasy world.

I would guess a similar bell curve would exist for readers of femdom fiction. The difference is they don't live in a world, yet, where they're comfortable discussing it. And I say it that way because they aren't so much in the closet with a burning desire to let the world know they occasionally enjoy a femdom story. It's just something they do and keep mostly to themselves.

I have close male friends who know I write femdom. I rarely mention it, they never mention it, and our friendships haven't changed. My guess is most of them fall somewhere in that bell curve. They've probably checked me out, found the stories titillating, but didn't want to share that with me.

Femdom is still a little more taboo, but that could change quickly. Even five years ago, men were uncomfortable with making less money than their wives or girlfriends. Now that's largely gone away. I often hear men talking about their wives making more or having better benefits. That's partly because I have a crappy low paying job, but the point is that reticence has gone away.

I think it could happen in the next five years. What do you think?     

Kimberly's Confession

One of the reasons it was a long time before I tried my hand at writing erotica is because I always wanted to write fiction that left my little mark on the world. Funny, then, to realize after I started that writing erotica gives me that feeling just as much as writing other fiction does. This part, from Serving Her, feels especially personal, even though I'm purely projecting something a beloved person in my life might have been experiencing.

“I’m going to confess something I’ve never told anyone, and you are under strict orders to not tell me it’s okay or anything similar. My first year of college I had a best friend, a boy. We hung out all the time. We talked on the phone every day. We talked about everything. I told him about the boys I liked, the boys I was dating, the boys who hurt me. He would tell me everything, too. He told me he was in love with me.

“I told him I loved him, too, just in a different way. I encouraged him to meet other girls, but he never did. He was just there, for me, whenever I needed him. When I dumped a boy, or a boy dumped me and I felt sad, he was always the first person I called. I would cry. He would help me feel better. Every so often—not that often, because he was stoic and brave—he would call crying over me, and I would always listen. We would talk for hours. He would tell me how much he loved me, and I would reassure him that my love for him was just as real, just different. I would, again, encourage him to date. I would name girls I knew would like him. I truly felt awful for him. It was a long time before I realized I was turned on by it.”

            “Kimberly…”

            “Don’t. You’re under orders.” Her voice sounded thick with tears. Her hand came off the steering wheel and wiped her face. “After listening to him crying over me for hours—after crying with him—I would pleasure myself. Somehow my mind managed to separate it. Enjoying being loved without fully loving back and getting off on it didn’t seem to conflict with trying to be a good friend and help him get over me. I felt like I was doing the best I could with the best intentions, and my arousal just seemed…incidental—stupid as that sounds.

            “He moved back home after our freshman year and wrote me a good-bye letter. He wrote he had to break off contact to move forward in his life. He was very nice, very sorry. I think he’d met someone and needed me out of his life to make room for her, and I was glad. I was hurt, but I was glad for him. I was fully aware of my dominant fantasies, well before that, but I didn’t plan or expect to ever act them out. They, also, seemed incidental to my real life, but I decided, from that point on, to always be clear with boys about who would be in charge if we dated and the exact behavior and respect I would command. I wasn’t going to let anything like that happen again.” Kimberly had kept her composure, besides trace evidence of tears in her voice, but now she got choked up and had trouble speaking. “I mean, everyone remembers their first year of college. It’s supposed to be when you come-of-age or discover who you are or whatever. What does he have to remember, some girl stringing him along all year?”

            “It sounds like,” Alex said. Kimberly fired a look at him, and Alex took a deep breath—torn between wanting to comfort Kimberly and obeying the order she had given—before continuing. “It sounds like the two of you went through an intense experience together. You learned from it and it helped you to become the person you are today. I’m sure the experience had the same effect on him.”

            “Maybe. I hope you’re right. Still, he deserved better. He deserved to have me spank him and sit on his face.”

 

From Serving Her (Pink Flamingo, 2012), available in paperback and as an Ebook

Back Cover of Serving Her

My favorite moments of Protege Mistress plan has been held up by my participation in NaNo. I'll be back with that soon.

My latest femdom novel, published by Pink Flamingo, is a standalone novel continuing the story of Kimberly and Alex, which began in Courting Her. Here is the back cover synopsis:

After courting her, Alex feels happy and content belonging to a woman he adores, but Kimberly is not about to let her new submissive boyfriend get complacent. She introduces him to taking snaps in a sensitive area, and Alex agrees to that being a punishment she can inflict on him anytime she pleases. His duty is to strive to obey any directive his mistress gives. When his friends come over to meet her, Alex is so overcome by her assertive demeanor, he breaks the one rule she gave him for the evening—to not treat her like his ruler in front of them. Kimberly sneaks him into the bedroom to take care of his punishment. She then demands a goodnight kiss, which Alex eagerly applies. She returns him to his friends and devises a test for them, with Alex’s humiliation the penalty if they fail. Alex soon discovers that Kimberly’s openly dominant nature will make keeping his place in their female-led relationship a secret impossible.

 

Alex spends a typical Sunday afternoon with his mistress: being trained to properly paint her toenails, getting punished to alleviate Kimberly’s annoyance with the maleishness of their neighbor, and enduring the tantalizing torment of remaining on the verge of an orgasm, without knowing if she will permit him one. During an intimate foot worship session, Alex confesses to an unfortunate encounter with a woman from his past. Kimberly surprises him with a creative and apropos punishment. Alex realizes he will have to fully integrate his submissive desires into his new life with Kimberly, if he is to reach the level of dedication she requires for serving her.

 

Includes: female domination, male submission, female body worship, male orgasm denial and edging, cock punishments, spanking, caning, humiliation, and romantic sex

Fav Moments from Protege Mistress

Subtle Femdom early on in Protege Mistress. Diane has been promoted to Kevin's supervisor.

While they had both been drivers, they had a few friendly exchanges, but when she called him to the phone, Kevin noticed immediately her new managerial tone. “Kevin, come over here.” She smiled, kindly. “I’m going to have you answer phones between deliveries, in addition to your other duties.”

“Okay, sure.” He felt himself blushing. He was pretty sure Diane suspected his crush. He couldn’t imagine a woman as beautiful as her didn’t suspect every man developed some level of infatuation with her. He hoped she didn’t know the extent of his.

Kevin had been kicking himself for not asking her out when he had the chance. The store had a strict policy against managers dating the hourly employees. His berating himself, he knew, was an absurd façade. He wasn’t really fooling himself. He wouldn’t have asked out a beautiful woman like Diane in a million years. He was shy enough with women in his own league. He felt satisfied with work-related conversation and the occasional exchange of personal, friendly anecdotes.

Diane instructed him on how to take orders over the phone, gave him a script to memorize, then went to make pizzas. She returned after several minutes and tested him. She leaned against the counter and played the part of customers placing orders. She made him hold the phone to his ear, as if each were a real call. Kevin, grinning awkwardly, did as he was told. He punched the orders into the computer, without firing them into the system, as she watched and corrected his mistakes. He found her rather impatient with his progress after a few minutes, and he was surprised to find himself feeling ashamed of his frequent blunders. Once he got it down, though, she praised him. “Very good. Now you’re ready to take real calls, all by yourself.”

Kevin knew his enjoyment of her praise showed all over his face.

Patience Review

Patience by Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas

Tightly focused story, with shifting power dynamics

Plenty for this fan of femdom fiction to chew, or suck, on (that pun will pay off if you read the story.) in this story of a cocky, youthful salesman being taught a lesson by the older woman whose charge he is in. Not to call this a femdom, or even a particularly kinky, story. These are the subtle shifts of power common in the flirtations of new lovers. He claims he seduced her. She responds that a good seductress makes it appear that way. On the way back to their office, he catches her in the parking garage and piques her desires. They get inside and she sends him back to the car for her purse.

The dynamic plays out realistically and builds to an excellent climax. What I liked, one of the things I liked, was that she remained poised and kept the upper hand, at least on the surface. Most of her power surrender came in the form of her eagerness, which with her experience, she was able to keep under control...mostly.

Here is a link to more reviews and an excerpt and summary:

http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=583&zenid=0b09da74332ae6c3d5a580bb3ee5220f    

Bottoms in Love Giveaway!

I'm doing my first ever book giveaway at Sharazade's blog. Please comment by Friday, September 21st for a chance to win. OC Press is giving away a copy of Bottoms in Love. Here is the link to Sharazade's blog:

http://sharazade.fannypress.com/?p=1319

Guest Blog Post...Patience

I'm excited to have the co-authors of Patience, Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas, on my blog today! Willsin I've known from facebook, where we've had a few delightful, and oddly long, discussions about words and language. Always fun. I love this interview of Katie Salidas asking Willsin Rowe questions. I won't spoil it by mentioning my favorite part.

Q: You’ve written quite a few wonderfully smutty stories on your own, what made you decide to co-author this story?

 

A: It really did feel like the natural step to take. With Patience, I knew the idea was sound, and that the rough map of the story would work. But the intricacies weren’t meshing. The tiny cogs just weren’t lining up. It just felt like exactly the kind of story that needed input from both genders. And of course, who better to work with than my bestest beta-reading buddy?

 

 

Q: What is it about the genre that draws you in? Why do you love to write Erotica?

 

A: I just love to write, no matter what genre. But for me, Erotica is special. It’s not just about grabbing two characters (or more!) and tossing them in a bed together with the instructions to get it on. It’s to be expected that the characters get all hot and sweaty, sure...but I love the challenge of making it unstoppable rather than opportunistic. The background and shape of the story need to funnel these characters into each other’s...well, let’s say “arms”!

 

 

Q: Pick a favorite line (or interaction between the characters) from Patience and tell us why you like it so much?

 

A: Ah, I love this bit:

 

I turned him to face me. “Edan, I know you won’t like to hear this, but you’re still so young. You see everything in black and white. Only when you get older will you see the shades of gray.”

“Yeah. In the mirror.”

It felt almost like he’d slapped me, but I tried not to let it show. “Well, you sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

“What? What did I say?”

“You know what you said.”

“Yes, I do. I just have no fucking idea what you heard.”

 

Why do I love it? Because it shows how the different ages and genders of the characters lends a totally different understanding to one simple remark. And I’d like to point out, too, that the “shades of gray” reference was written in 2010; long before I’d heard of...any particular books that it might make you think of!

 

 

Q: What does your family think of your work? Does your wife ever do any Beta Reading for you?

 

A: Most of my family know, and are pretty much ambivalent about it. My mother was a little taken aback, but my wife is totally supportive. She doesn’t beta for me, but she appears (in one form or another) in many of my stories. She’ll often help me road-test an idea, too!

 

 

Q: We’ve touched on this before. What is it about the older woman/younger man pairing that is so intriguing, in your opinion? 

 

A: Ah, well, I think it comes down to a few elements like confidence, communication and respect (including self-respect). When dealing with males, older women tend to do better than younger women on all those elements (wild generalization, I know). Most young people still have that crazy idea that men and women both speak the same language! Older women also know how to stroke an ego without feeling like they’re diminishing themselves. And lastly, they know what they want, they know where it is...and they don’t assume a young man can find it by himself!

 

Gregory Allen commentary:

Okay, now I can say my favorite part. I love that the "shades of gray" line was left in! We often think of writing bravery as doing something no one has ever done before, but sometimes the brave choice is to stick with what you trust even if some other book has come along and taken a phrase over. Reminds me of U2, at one of their live shows, they introduced "Helter Skelter" by saying, "This is a song Charles Manson stole from the Beatles and now we're stealing it back!" 

 

 

Okay, now here is an exerpt from Patience, available now, so you don't have to wait when you're done with this to read the rest. Enjoy! 

 

Patience © August 2012 by Willsin Rowe and Katie Salidas

 

Excerpt 1

 

He turned, drilling his steel-gray eyes into mine. “You regret last night, don’t you?”

“Last night...” I bit down on my burgeoning smile. “Well, I’ve certainly done smarter things than seduce a co-worker.”

“The way I see it, I seduced you.”

“Such is my skill, young man.” I couldn’t suppress my smile this time. “No, it wasn’t my smartest move, but I certainly don’t regret it. Anyway, I thought you boys compartmentalized everything.”

He slipped his hand onto my thigh. “How can I when you’re right here?”

I bit my lip and squeezed my legs together. “Stop…” It was barely a whisper, not convincing at all. He had such big hands they were impossible to ignore. Especially sliding up my leg like that.

I clamped my hand over his. “No, Edan. We have to get back to the office. We have another pitch tomorrow.”

He dug his fingers in, a needless show of strength. With a puff of disgust he pulled back and turned away. “Fine. Then maybe tomorrow you’ll let me drive.” He shucked out another mint and ground it to death.

“Oh, act your fucking age, Edan.” Jesus. I sound like I’m his mother. I started the car and mashed out my frustration on the gas pedal.

We drove back in man-made silence. Before I’d even turned off the engine Edan had his door open, ready to storm upstairs and broadcast our failure. To distance himself from the stink of it. I curled my fingers around his arm.

“Wait.”

He pulled loose from my tenuous grasp and flounced out of the car. I turned off the engine and rushed after him, my clattering heels echoing off the concrete ceiling of the parking garage.

“Edan, stop!”

The touch of my hand on his shoulder seemed to calm him a little. He stopped and let me turn him around. I felt like his mother again as I pressed him back against the wall. In my heels I was almost eye-to-eye with him. Or would be, if he’d look at me.

“You still have so much to learn, boy.”

“Don’t call me boy. I’m 24 years old.”

“In every way possible.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Look, we need to present a united front. Yes, we probably lost the pitch. But those people up there rely on me, and now you, to bring business in. They need to believe in us.”

“Then untie the apron strings! Let me take more control.”

I rested my hand against his chest. Even through the thick wool of his suit, I fancied I could feel the heat of his skin, and I nearly lost my train of thought. “This is not the time for that discussion, Edan.”

“It never is.”

“Stop. I mean it, this is not the time. We need to radiate calm, give off a positive vibe. Can you do that?”

He shook his head and puffed out a resigned chuckle. Finally his cool eyes met mine. “Maybe. What’s it worth to you?”

The warmth of his hand was all too real as he cupped the fullness of my breast through my blouse. I’d been so focused on his eyes I hadn’t seen him move. My breath tripped up as he squeezed my hardening nipple.

“Edan…” The simple urgency of my own voice sounded like a betrayal. With my hand over his I rested my head on his chest, just to take the weight off my untrustworthy knees. With my eyes closed and the heat of his body against me it was easy to forget he was born the year I finished school.

Suddenly he was all hands and breath, all heat and muscle, and lord, did it feel good. I clutched at his belt for balance and he pushed his mouth onto mine.



*****Here is the buy link for Patience, available at Excessia publishing:

http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=583&zenid=0b09da74332ae6c3d5a580bb3ee5220f
 

Serving Her available now

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Fav Moments from Courting Her...1

Release Day is tomorrow! Thank you to everyone following my countdown on my blog!

This last favorite moment from Courting Her touches on, possibly, a taboo for some readers. Hopefully I handled it "tastefully," not to sound tongue in cheeks.

She patted his head, leaned forward, and kissed him. "Put the dishes in the sink and meet me in the bedroom."

"Yes, Kimberly."

Alex stacked up the dishes and set them in the sink. From the bedroom hallway, he saw Kimberly kneeling at the foot of the bed, lying over. A book was fanned out above a pillow she lay on. When she heard his steps, she looked back and smiled. She lifted her skirt up, and Alex saw he was right that she wasn't wearing underwear. She pulled the skirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. She leaned forward and spread her knees.

Alex stared in at where his mouth would go. "Why do you have a book?"

"Because I'm going to read. Kneel behind me."

"Yes, Ma'am."

 

Alex and Kimberly's story continues in Serving Her, due out tomorrow with Pink Flamingo

Fav Moments from Courting Her...2

Countdown to release day for my new book continues with another favorite moment from Courting Her. Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!

Alex knew what was coming when Kimberly sat in the recliner with her cane and pulled her socks off. Her bare feet slid just under his face onto the chair. "I know my feet are probably a little ripe, but now that we're living together, you'll have to get used to serving me even when I'm maybe a little stinky. You'll adjust."

Alex nodded slightly, keeping his lips sealed as he breathed. In truth, he already associated Kimberly's myriad tastes and odors with intimacy and his love. He no more found them noxious than he did his own familiar scents.

Kimberly said nothing for a long time. The only sound was the friction of her feet occasionally rubbing together. Then she spoke, "So, you're looking for some leniency, is that right?"

Alex shook his head. "Mistress, I want to take whatever punishment you think I deserve."

"Really. What happened to 'not tonight, Kimberly'? What happened to 'I don't feel like taking a hard spanking'?"

"I feel like it now. I feel like suffering for you, whatever you decide."

"Tell me what's changed."

She didn't sound angry, and Alex realized that he was telling the absolute truth. Despite the pain of his paddling and the impending pain of his caning, he really did want to take it for her. "I don't know."

"That's okay. I know," she said. "You don't have to know."

Fav Moments from Courting Her...3

This one is pretty heavy on the hopeful romantic aspect and fairly light on the female domination aspect. Kimberly surprises Alex with a house she picked out.

"You want to live with me?" Alex said.

Kimberly nodded. "Do you want to live with me?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Really think about it. No telling what tortures I might make you endure if you're my live-in servant."

"I've been thinking about it, but I didn't think you'd want to so soon."

Kimberly kissed him again. "What about the house, though?"

"If it's what you want."

"No. For a house, we have to decide together."

"Kimberly, when I see how happy it makes you, how could I not love it? I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."

Thanks for reading! The new book is due out this Friday!

Fav Moments from Courting Her...4

From chapter 5 of Courting Her: Alex's first evening at Kimberly's
 
On her wall, there was a poster of Virginia Woolf, who Alex wouldn't have recognized--though he had read one of her books--except her name and the dates of her life were printed underneath. A red blanket lay over her bed with a precious mound of pillow at the top. Kimberly moved in front of a dresser, lifted from among every day dresser items--brushes, make-up containers, and a mirror--a black leather paddle. She held it up with the wide end facing him. "If you misbehave at my place, you won't get a kinky hand-spanking. You'll feel this."

"I'll behave."

 
"Go ahead and touch it."

Alex reached out and felt the business end of her paddle between his finger and thumb. It was firm and thick, and Alex knew it would be truly painful. He lowered his eyes then lifted them up to hers. "Kimberly," he said, "I love you."

 
"You think you love me?"
 
"I know I love you." He pulled out his note and handed it to her. "I wrote it in case I had trouble saying it."
 

She opened the note and read. She nearly blushed. "How can you know you love me already? I've barely done anything mean to you yet."

 
"I just know."
 
With her paddle in hand, she leaned in and hugged him, folded into him, and rested her head under his chin. She remained there nearly a minute, then she pulled her hands in and lightly pushed him the length of the paddle away. She gave him a thoughtful look. "After you've been over my lap, and felt this, I'm not sure you'll feel the same."

 "I still will."

 
"Well, let's find out. After dinner, you'll go over my lap for your first paddling."

"Yes, Mistress."

Thank you for reading and following my countdown to the release of my next Pink Flamingo femdom title. More information about that coming soon.

Fav Moments from Courting Her...5

Okay, I'm so sorry for anyone following this countdown that there was such a long delay. (And thank you so much for following the countdown so far!!) The good news is my connectivity issues are resolved, so I'll be posting more consistently. The other good news is that the release date for my new book got moved up, so it will be out in a couple weeks. So I'm jumping from ten to five and resuming the countdown.

Okay, this is the morning after Alex wakes up with Kimberly in his bed. He serves her breakfast. When she leaves Alex follows her to the door to give her a goodbye kiss, naked.

"Kneel."

Alex dropped to one knee, then the other.

Kimberly let her skirt fall. She crossed her arms and frowned down at him. "I should tell you, I don't like the way you kneel. Both your knees should touch at the same time."

"Yes, Mistress." Alex bowed his head. With her skirt fallen back down, he felt silly again not wearing any clothes.

"Back up and try again."

Alex pushed himself back up, stretching to his full height. Then he dropped to his knees as Kimberly had instructed. He had to use his arms to keep his balance, and even still, he crashed to the floor awkwardly. Kimberly didn't look pleased. She stared down at him for a long time, her foot tapping the floor by his knee. "Hmm, I'm trying to decide if I should spank you for not kneeling properly."

Alex bowed his head. Naked and on his knees, he didn't feel he could protest. He could only wait for her decision.

"No, I should get going. Tell you what, you practice, and next time you see me, you can try again. If you do better, I won't have to spank you." 

Countdown of Fav Moments from Courting Her...10

Where else to start? With introductions! I don't have a firm date for my new female domination novel to be published by Pink Flamingo. Probably September, around ten weeks away, so I thought it would be fun to do a countdown by posting favorite moments from my first Pink Flamingo novel, Courting Her, published in June 2010.

These won't be ranked in order because I would feel bad choosing among them, and I've also eliminated a few favorite moments that would potentially spoil the story for people interested in reading it on their own. Here Alex sees Kimberly sitting in a coffee shop, approaches her, and earns an opportunity to sit at her table. When she leaves Alex asks if he can "get her number." Kimberly tells him to try that again.

"I would like to call you sometime. Could I have your number?" When she didn't respond after several seconds, he added, "Please?"

Kimberly reopened her notebook, fanned to the back and wrote. She tore the sheet out and handed it across. In fluid, flawless cursive, she had written: 'Kim,' her number, and 'Call tonight at 7:00.'

Alex read the message then looked up at her. "I will." As she stood, Alex rose to a bow. Lifting a black, shiny backpack, she slid her notebook inside and, feeding her arms through the straps, hoisted the pack onto her shoulders. She came around the table, smiling at him. When Alex said "goodbye," her smile lifted and she gave a slight nod, then she left without a look back.

After she left his sight, Alex looked around, having forgotten that the coffee shop was filled with other people, and now, he realized, expecting their applause. He sat back down and lifted her handwriting into the air.

The 'at 7:00' intrigued him. Strange enough that she would write a time at all, but particularly strange that she wrote the numbers instead of writing the word, 'seven.' Alex checked his watch. He knew already that he would call in six hours, forty-two minutes, and fourteen seconds when his watch face read 7:00.

July Event at The Romance Review includes an Ebook giveaway of Bottoms in Love

July Event at The Romance Review includes an Ebook giveaway of Bottoms in Love

Lots of books by many authors will be available, so please check out this fun event. A question about Bottoms in Love will be posted, and a huge hint about the answer is embedded in this brief excerpt. Thanks for checking it out and thank you to The Romance Review for putting on this event and thank you to my publisher, OC Press, for contributing a free copy.

From part two of Bottoms in Love: Heads

At last, they had another evening alone. They tried to enjoy dinner and each other’s conversation, but they couldn’t help but rush through dessert. They were both hurrying, both focused on the dime on the table between them. Lindsey pushed her plate aside, touched her silk napkin to her lips, and wiped her hands. She picked up the dime, and Carter leaned forward. With a flick of her thumb, she sent it in a tight spin about a foot above their heads. She caught it and swallowed it in her palm. Catching Carter’s gaze, she slapped the dime onto her forearm. Carter jumped and his eyes locked onto her hand, which she slowly raised.

“Yes!” Carter raised a fist in a mixture of excitement and relief. Lindsey gave him a sharp look and his arm fell, his fist opened. He stared down contritely.

“Wave the waitress over, very politely, and say, ‘My wife is ready for the check now, please,’” Lindsey instructed.

“Oh, honey, let’s not do the in-public stuff.”

Lindsey calmly held Carter’s look until he acquiesced. He located the waitress and gave her a respectful wave. When she came over, he repeated the words his wife had commanded. Carter became so immediately docile and nervous under his wife’s command, especially when she demonstrated her power in front of a pretty stranger. He blushed and bowed his head, drawing more attention to his servitude than might have been obvious to the waitress if he had managed any amount of decorum. The young lady was obviously amused, and Carter caught her exchanging a smile with his wife. He turned an even deeper shade of red.

Lindsey retrieved a credit card from her purse and, when the waitress returned, dropped it on the check tray. The waitress thanked her, gave Carter another wry smile, and left.

“I think she is enjoying this. Maybe we should invite her to stop by tonight. Do you suppose she’s ever seen a man beaten with a wooden spoon?”

“She probably hasn’t,” Carter said quietly, still blushing, his head still bowed.

“She probably would, tonight.”

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Real life moment from book

I admit I changed directions when I saw this woman coming. I had two ways to get to the same place in the same amount of time but I had already decided to take the first and she compelled me to take the second, just for the opportunity to cross her path. She had this powerful stride and beautiful smile. Confidence and kindness can mix at the right temperature to make me weak-kneed and get my submissive yearnings boiling.

So, I’m approaching her and I’m already self-conscious because I know I’ve completely re-mapped my path across the store. She couldn’t possibly know that, but rational thought isn’t keeping me from blushing. I’m trying hard to limit my discreet glancing, but at the same time, I don’t want to miss her. When I get next to her, I try to smile and nod, but I’m such a smitten disaster. The look I gave her must have been a terrifying combination of pathetic and creepy, but here’s the awesome part, she was absolutely beaming. She gave me extended eye contact and an awesome smile—a borderline grin—and a nod.

I really like to think she enjoyed that. Am I living in fantasy land? I realize women don’t appreciate having their asses stared at every time they go somewhere to get groceries, but there must be some gray area where women enjoy some polite attention?

I expect I’ll have a pleasant memory of this encounter for a long time. It reminded me of this moment for Alex in Courting Her, just before he meets Kimberly:

His favorite thing was to pass a girl walking up the sidewalk the other way, legs exposed for the first time that season in short jeans shorts or a colorful skirt, a backpack strapped over a tight short-sleeved T-shirt, and flash her a shy glance, letting his gaze linger long enough for her to notice. Then he would stare down at his shoes. A blush would fill his face that he wouldn’t need to fake, and then her light blush would follow. Only her chin would not droop but lift up. She would smile, inspired by the compliment of his attention, and not look back at him. A moment like that, on the right day, felt a lot like love.  

Why I don't drop links (A blog for Ferns)

I’m shy about dropping links because I’m worried people will think I just want them to buy my books. I enjoy participating in discussions on blogs, but I totally do want people to buy my books. More than that I want people to read them and enjoy them. I want people to love them. I want those people to bury me in emails and ask questions and tell me their thoughts and opinions, their feelings. I want them to show up at my house like they know me. I want to invite them in and let them play cards while I cook for them and feed them, and I’ll eavesdrop and hope discussions about my books erupt like flash flood rains. I want to hear which parts made them laugh, which parts made them cry, and which parts made them cum. I want to be in the blood streams of my readers and explore while they read to see where they tingle. I want them to tell me when Kimberly gave them a cute look or said something funny and I want to return to the exact moment I discovered her giving it or saying it to me, and I want to sound completely removed from my writing of her, and simply marvel at her, with them. And I want them to tell me they love her, and I want them to listen while I tell them I love her, too.

But that would be pretty needy, so I usually don’t drop links.

Was Dr. Seuss A Fraud?

I learned recently that Green Eggs and Ham was the result of a bet. His publisher bet Dr. Seuss couldn’t write a story in 50 words or less. Green Eggs and Ham uses exactly 50 words. I had an initial jaded reaction to that news. What the hell? That was one of my favorite Dr. Seuss books. Come to find out he wrote it under restrictions just to win a stupid bet!

I’m embarrassed to say I ranted about that in my head for several minutes, before I realized we do things like this all the time when we write. When I used to write a page a day about any random thing, I recall often limiting my parameters just to see what I might get. One that stands out is I wrote about a guy pulling over at the side of the road and peeing. That was it. I decided not to let anything else happen. I was just going to fill a page with the description of the action. There was no greater meaning to his peeing, there was nothing he contemplated while he peed. No one drove by and caught him. Now the results probably wouldn’t be interesting to read to anyone but me (and they certainly wouldn’t make for a bestselling children’s book!) but it turned into an inspired piece of writing memorable to me. How dare I even consider that Dr. Seuss wrote that dizzying, fun story with any less than his usual zing?

More likely that bet was just a fun gag between them, but Dr. Seuss got to thinking about it. Maybe he started Green Eggs and Ham and his instincts already had him using a small set of words and repeating them. What if I did try to write a book with only fifty words, what would happen? Far from that book being a contrived work designed to win a bet, in the mind of Dr. Seuss, that silly bet led to inspiration and gave us a classic children’s book.

I don’t have many examples as extreme as the peeing one, but the more I think about it, a lot of what I write is the result of eliminating options and tightening my parameters. In Courting Her, I wanted Kimberly to reveal her dominant nature not until their third date, so I had to have their first two dates in the book but I also had to get through them very quickly. So I limited myself, not to an exact word count, but I definitely strived to keep those first two dates extremely brief on the page without letting them feel too short. They ended up three paragraphs. Anyone else have personal examples? Also wondering if there are other famous works anyone knows of that were written under similar types of restrictions?  

Coin Toss!

Little doubt, this year, that the most exciting part of the game will be the coin toss! The odds of winning a coin toss are always 1 in 2, but the odds of winning successive coin tosses rise exponentially. The NFC has won the last fourteen coin tosses in a row, the odds of that are 1 in 8,384. The odds of the NFC winning fifteen in a row are a mind boggling 1 in 16,768, but the chances of that happening during tonight's coing toss? 1 in 2! Enjoy the game, tonight, but pay close attention to the coin toss because a streak like this doesn't come around often.

Actually, I think my novelette, Bottoms in Love, which involves a couple using a coin toss to determine which of them wins having to play the dominant role when they both wish to play the submissive role, probably came from my fascination with this superbowl streak of the NFC winning coin tosses. Watch, though, they barely mention it before the game. Maybe this year it will get more air time, since the streak is growing. Go NFC! Win that coin toss! (I also want them to win the game, but I'm way more interested in the coin toss.)

A Story and Six from Courting Her

The first thing I knew I didn't want to do, when I decided to write about Kimberly and Alex, was to write them meeting. I didn't want to write about a courtship. I didn't want to write about him courting her. I wanted to open with them in a committed, female-led relationship. Books begin all the time about people already entwined in their dramas, why not a femdom book? I opened with them years in, and I had a story to tell, but in the course of getting to know them, the backstory came out that Alex had Kimberly over to his apartment for dinner on their third date. Up to that point, Kimberly had been subtle about her dominant nature. After dinner, they sat on his couch to watch a movie and Alex made the mistake, not of putting his feet up on the coffee table, and not of not taking them down when Kimberly said, but of not taking them down swiftly enough to satisfy her.

I realized that while I didn't particularly want to write "a story about a courtship," I had a burning desire to write "the story of their courtship." I wrote these words in a random notebook that were the beginning of my writing of Courting Her:

"Why didn't you put your feet down when I said?"
"I did put them down."
"Did you do it right when I said?"
"No, but..."
"Why didn't you put your feet down when I said?"
"I don't know."   

The Ending

When does the ending come for you? I had the incredible experience, when I finished Protégé Mistress after a marathon writing session of about 8,000 words (I realize that’s a fairly typical session for some writers but for me that’s a marathon), of writing the ending at the ending. That moment of finishing a book and coming up with its ending will always be a top writing memory, and likely not one I’ll have again. I was so affected by that moment that I actually cursed the ending for my WIP (work in progress), which came to me the other day. No, dammit, I’m not to that part, yet.

Sacrilege! How dare I question the muse? You have to go with it when it comes, and it’s an exciting part to write but it is also something of a relief when you have an ending. I think that’s a typical stress for writers. We get excited enough by characters or a scene to start writing, it starts to develop into a story, and at some point we think, Oh Crap! How is this going to end? I think it’s, for the most part, an irrational worry. The story ends when you’re done telling it. The more rational worry is writing an ending you like and think works well, but to carry this vague stress through a WIP of it just “not ending” doesn’t really have any logic to it. Of course, that doesn’t prevent it. I finished my first short story more than twelve years ago and after an hour long intense writing buzz finally began to fade, I thought, Oh Crap! What if I never think of anything to write again? I still write with that worry, but I’m mostly numb to it.

Like a lot of things in writing, you have to have a good balance. I try to write without worrying about how a story will end, but I do press a little, which keeps my mind working on it, and I think that’s why possible endings start coming to me, sometimes soon after I start a story. Usually I’ll discard them or they’ll turn out to be scenes but not ends. (I think I have a tendency to tighten the framework to keep me focused.) Good possible endings will start to come around two-thirds through, usually. Coincidentally, right about when my irrational Oh Crap! How is this going to end? worry gets ratcheted up.        

What to do with a To Do List

There are two types of To Do Lists. The workday To Do List and the day off To Do List. The workday To Do List shouldn’t be loaded up. If you made a reasonable amount of progress on your most recent day off To Do List, your workday To Do List should be manageable. It may only have a couple unfinished items leftover from the day off one. Make a new list. You don’t want to be staring at a To Do on Tuesday List on Wednesday. It’s discouraging and humiliating.

I should back up and wax philosophically on the nature of To Do Lists. Aristotle invented To Do Lists in ancient Greece. Tragically, the world’s entire store of To Do Lists burned in the library of Alexandria. Along with a lot of plays by Aeschylus burned a lot of To Do Lists. Word spread through the ages, though, and Shakespeare was extremely well known as a user of To Do Lists. You didn’t know that, did you?

All right, I won’t back up that far. Also none of that is true. I wanted to blog about To Do Lists near the New Year because I think of New Year’s Day as To Do List Day! There are those who refuse to make New Year’s resolutions. Their reason? They never last! Wow, I can’t even wrap my brain around how illogical that is. Those people are really missing the point of self-improvement. I have to have a really bad day before I will let an uncompleted To Do List get the best of me. After all, I made it. One thing I like to remember that I tend to forget, which is kind of nice because I do enjoy remembering it, is that the pressure I put on myself as a writer is self-induced. It was like that long before I got anything published and it’s still like that now. When I have a day where I wanted to write this and edit that and send one thing and research where to send another, if I finish the day and got half that done, that’s twice as much as nothing! No one else cares what I’m getting done. They don’t even know what I’m doing. They haven’t seen the list! That’s where I think the people referenced above go wrong. They make a resolution for the year, and then say, “Man, I only made it for a week, I suck!” No, you made it for a week, you’re awesome!

I make my day off To Do Lists the night before. These things are extravagant, they fill a page. First thing I do in the morning is pare it down. If I put that I wanted to mail out five stories, I change it to two. If I wanted to query two agents, I change it to one. I get realistic. There’s only so much time in the day and a lot to do! (I know because it’s all on my huge list!) Now, I put everything on my To Do List, even fun things. After all, I’m doing them, aren’t I? If you want, you can even put “pare down To Do List” as the first thing on your To Do List, do it, and cross it off! (I don’t do that. I take myself a little more seriously than that, but you can.)

My friend, during a recent To Do List discussion, said he didn’t understand why his wife needed to make a To Do List to clean their house. “It had three things on it. We weren’t going to forget three things.” Remembering to do the things on your To Do List is only one tiny part of the point of To Do Lists. It’s at least as much about organizing your day or your next month or, in the case of New Year’s resolutions, your next year. It’s about focusing on your goals. Even the items I cross off in the morning have served a purpose. It keeps me in touch with those goals and good chance they’ll show up on future To Do Lists and actually get done.

Last thing because this is getting kind of long and I have a lot to do, today. Never throw a To Do List away. To Do Lists are like little time capsules. If you’re as disorganized as me, you’ll find them in random places, months or years later, and shudder with amazement that these things, at one time, needed done and that you did them. Last December, just before Bottoms in Love released, I randomly came across a crumpled To Do List with submit Bottoms in Love to OC Press written on it. And it was crossed off.     

Sentence Fragments in Stories.

I had an odd experience after finishing The Road by Cormac McCarthy. A book I loved. I have that book in my top five. (My top five has way more than five books in it, but still, that's saying a lot.) I read the second half in one sitting and soon after got online to read what others thought about it. Which actually isn't something I do that often, but I think that book made me want to connect with people. Most people loved it as much as I had, but a few people complained about how it was filled with sentence fragments. Now, to each his or her own, I didn't have a reaction to people having a different feeling from the book, but sentence fragments? I hadn't noticed any.

I told a friend about that, who'd read it, and he said. "You're a writer. You didn't notice all those sentence fragments?" I was so sucked into that story. I guess I was just way too far gone to notice any potentially annoying stylistic quirks.

Sentence fragments are tough, especially in this day of word processors that point every one of them out to the writers in the first draft. I try to go by feel when deciding on a sentence fragment, but I think those ugly colored lines in my word processor make me weed them out, for the most part. I still try to go by feel, but I end up using them almost as rarely as I use exclamation marks. I use them when not using them feels awkward, for instance, if I have a string of descriptive sentences that I feel need to be there, I'll make the last one a sentence fragment because it makes the rhythm feel right. And, in at least one instance, I used one for effect: a key moment in Courting Her happened in a fragment. I’m not going to include it here, not as a teaser, but because I want it, for any readers of the book, to stand out as a key moment but not to stand out as a sentence fragment. A sentence fragment, like anything else, shouldn't pull a reader out of a story, but also like anything else, because a sentence fragment pulls a certain reader out of a story doesn't always mean it shouldn't have been there. It just means it didn't work for that reader. 

How do you feel about sentence fragments when you come across them as a reader, and how do you feel about using them as a writer?