So I Meet You At The Cemetry Gates

I simply adore Halloween. When I was younger, I would grow anxious for its arrival almost as much as I did for Christmas. The thought of putting on the costumes, walking around in the cool darkness and most importantly, getting all the candy.

My cousin was almost always my partner in crime for this special night. As a matter of fact, all my fondest memories of Halloween involve her. We were a set of dice, big cardboard boxes painted white with black dots. My mom drove us around in our van, as it was the only vehicle big enough to fix our costumes into. We ruled that year.

When we got a bit older, we dressed up as a little old couple. My cousin complained because she had to be the boy, but it made for the best comedic effect. Plus, as the older one, I still could boss her around a bit. We hit the thrift store and my mom's closet for the most outlandish stereotyped "old people" outfits. I have to say, that one might be my favorite of all our ventures. I only have an old Polaroid picture, or I could show you all how brilliant it was. We also were a dead bride and groom, Simon and Robert of The Cure and countless other pointless and silly things over the years.

I miss that time, and I miss the feeling I used to get sharing those times with her. We are still close, but nothing can ever replace those days in my mind. Enjoy your Halloween everyone. I've got plenty to do, and plenty of news coming. Oh, and if it's not too much trouble, save me a Kit Kat.

They're Such Short Shorts

Say what you will about men being visual creatures. I sometimes wonder if I would write anything at all without pictures as inspiration. And, I'm not the only one.

To that end, this picture was my inspiration for my story, Laundry Day, which will be in the Ravenous Romance Men in Shorts anthology.

Men in shorts are something of a hobby of mine. Good thing, I guess. They always say "write what you know."

Don't Mistake My Dirty Mind For Lust

Is it wrong that I've waited all week for Man Candy Monday? Because I have. And, boy have I found him. His name is David Williams. He is an Australian Rugby player who plays for the champion Manly (no, I'm not kidding) Sea Eagles. They call him "The Wolfman". He's perfect, don't you think? But if you look closely at those perfect abs, you'll see an even more perfect scar.

Mr. Williams was my inspiration for writing a story for Alison Tyler's latest contest. Conveniently enough, it was all about sexy. So, it was the perfect fit. Turns out, I won the contest. I guess I owe David some thanks. And, I would be glad to thank him, just as soon as I get the chance.

So, enjoy the man candy. And, my story, titled "This One, That One."

*This One, That One

"So, what about this one?"
"Fist fight, tenth grade."

I ran my finger over the white line of flesh above his eye, tracing its fault line path to his cheek. It was then that I noticed another, right by his mouth.

"And, that one?"
"Little league."

The small, jagged line curved up to the tip of his lip, and I ran my finger over the edge. The little defect made his smile even more sexy. He laid next to me, his bare chest rose and fell as I ran my fingers over his skin. There was another one; low on his stomach, on the right side. It looked more recent, still slightly pink with visible stitch marks. When I touched it, he recoiled. I had found a ticklish spot.

"Appendix?"
"Yup. Last year."

I kept going lower, my eyes and hands continuing their mission. His legs didn’t seem to offer anything, until I pushed his thighs apart. Then I saw the thick, raised rope of skin for the first time. This latest imperfection was the sexiest of all.

"What happened there?"
"Soccer cleat. I was in college."

I smoothed my finger over it, as if I could fix it with my touch. Leaning forward, I kissed the dimpled mark. It ended just above the line of his boxers. My fingers kept going up, until I felt his cock jump at my touch. He finally met my eyes.

"No scars there, I’ve been careful."
"I just wanted to be sure."

_

Picture Book, of People With Each Other

Don't we look nice? This is the gang at In The Flesh, after the wonderful readings were done. The rest of the photos can be found here courtesy of Flickr and Stacey. In the front (L to R) we have Tsaurah Litzky, Rachel Kramer Bussel and Donna George Storey. Back row (L to R) is Daniel Maurer, Little Old Me, Michelle Robinson, Emerald and Fiona Zedde.

The video should be forthcoming.

_

And I Just Can't Contain, This Feeling That Remains

Well, I survived my public reading at In the Flesh. And, it was amazing. I had so much fun, standing up there and letting other people hear my work. I was nervous as hell, but as I read, I felt my nerves subside and it was so cool. I got so much positive feedback from strangers and new friends alike. I was overwhelmed how supportive and wonderful everyone was. Rachel Kramer Bussel makes it such a great experience. I feel truly honored to have been a part of it.

Plus, I got to meet Emerald(+1), Donna, Jeremy(+1) and EllaRegina. And, I can say without hesitation that they all rock!! We had a great time talking about all manner of things and enjoying some smut together. It was a great night in NYC and I would love to do it again. Also, may I recommend the little gem Teany and the wonderful French Roast to all of you. Fine food, fine drink and fine company. What more could anyone ask for?

There were videos taken at In the Flesh, so as soon as it is up, I'll link it.

*The picture is in honor of Man Candy Monday. It all started here, but I love the idea. I think it will really catch on.

Why Crash When There's So Much To Say?

Who doesn't love sex in cars? That was the topic of the latest anonymous contest on Alison Tyler's blog. Once again I entered the contest, this time coming in second with my story, Designated Driver. I thought it was an okay story, what do you think?

*Designated Driver*

I sat watching him fumble with the keys, trying in vain to start the car. All he had managed to do was scratch the starter. Finally, he gave up.

"Here, you’ll have to drive."
"What makes you think I can?"

He looked at me, annoyed.

"You’re not as drunk as me."
"But, I’m still drunk."

He sighed and threw the keys into the back seat.

"Well, I guess we’ll have to kill some time before we go home."

I smiled as he pushed his seat all the way back. My less than nimble fingers had no trouble getting his zipper down. Giving a look around, I dropped my head and took him into my mouth. He got hard almost immediately.

I pushed him deep into my throat and he squirmed in the leather seat. Wrapping my lips around the head of his cock, I slurped louder than I meant to in the quiet car. He giggled. Soon, his clumsy fingers were groping my nipples through my shirt.

He groaned as I sat up, but smiled as I slid my panties out from under my skirt. Trying to straddle him, I managed to hit my head on the roof. He reached up, rubbing my scalp as he slid inside me. He rocked me forward with his hips, pressing a finger against my clit.

"I have to tell you something."
"What?"
"I’m not that drunk. I just wanted to fuck you."

He grinned up at me. I sank down on his cock with a sigh.

"I"m not drunk either."

*The picture is my prize from Alison's first contest. Isn't it great? Thank you Naked Chicks on Post-It Notes.

I Absolutely Love Her When She Smiles

For those of you who are already members, or thinking about becoming members of the site For the Girls, may I recommend going there right now. Why you ask?

Because my story, Glass Houses, is featured on their site at the moment. I got an honorable mention in their yearly fiction contest, and my story is now up for your reading pleasure. Take a gander if you like and let me know what you think.

Have a great weekend everyone!!

Like Harrison Ford I'm Getting Frantic

Okay, maybe not frantic. But, I have to admit, I'm a little nervous. In one week, I'm going to be reading my story (slightly abridged) This Just In, from the book Tasting Him at In The Flesh Reading Series.

My nerves exist on several levels. I'm going to be reading with some great, great writers. I'm still relatively new to all this, so I'm feeling a little intimidated. Public speaking doesn't really scare me. It never has. But, for some reason, I'm finding myself more scared than I thought I would be. Despite my practice and all the reassurances from people in my life, I'm feeling some butterflies. I just don't want to make a fool out of myself in front of people I respect and like. I really want this to go well.

I was feeling good about the whole thing when the date was still far enough away. But, now it's seven days. One week. That is kinda close. And, now the insecurities are brewing. So, I'm just going to keep practicing and try not to worry. It is also nice that I'm going to be meeting up with some of my fellow readers and other writers beforehand. Maybe they can help talk me down from my metaphorical ledge.

If all else fails, a few drinks might just do the trick.

You Could Call Me A Car Lover, 'Cos I Love It In a Motor

If you are like me, you have had about enough of the Presidential bullshit that is going on. So, why not vote for something a lot more interesting and a lot more fun.

Run on over to Alison Tyler's blog and vote for your favorite Car Sex Story. It may not change the world, or fix the banking crisis. But, you could very well make some one's day. And, that is the least any of us can do.

Yes, I do have a story up. But, I'm not telling you which one. Unless I am persuaded. . . .

*Best. Picture. Ever

I'm Not Here For Your Entertainment

My friend Janis and I had been too busy lately to hang out properly. We decided to remedy this last night and meet up at our old haunt to down some cheap beer and eat some cheap tacos. It was going to be a classic meet-up. Talk shit, talk football, solve the world's problems (both political and personal) and head home.

When I saw her, I gave Janis a big hug, since it had been over a month since our last visit. And, plus we are kind of over the top like that sometimes. Well, you might have thought we offered all the guys at the bar a lap dance. One guy in particular seemed overly interested in our hug and our "relationship." He kept walking by, interrupting us and encouraging us to "get friendly" again.

Why do guys do shit like that? Why can't I hug my girlfriend and have a good time without someone saying something stupid? Somehow I don't think two guys hugging would have been such a crowd pleaser. In the end, it was no big deal, but it is just so typical. Grow up guys, seriously.