More Things You Should(n’t) Ask Your Favorite Author

Continuing the funny/not funny things you should say to or ask your favorite author are some more random shit that maybe you can think, but shouldn’t say. That is, if you like your favorite author at all. If you don’t, then all bets are off. Go to town. Ask all the squick questions in the world.

But if you like your author even a little, just think about the answers to these questions and maybe not say them to anyone. But if you do, youtube that shit and post it for all of us to see. Because laughter helps everybody. 😉

  1. Do you need some cool sex scene ideas or stories to include in your book? [Then proceed to state the most bizarre sex act known to mankind… until the next guy.]
  2. It must be really easy coming up with story ideas, why don’t you write faster? Art harder?
  3. Can you loan me some money? I know you’ve published some books so you must be filthy rich, or at least, have enough to give me some.
  4. I wish I could have such a cushy, easy job like you. All sitting around all day and daydreaming and fantasizing and doing nothing basically.
  5. Why aren’t you more famous?

See how it’s done? Tell me, do you really like your favorite author? Even if you do, please for the love of all that is good and holy take pictures and videos and screenshots and share that shit for the world!

Go forth and enjoy.

Best Women’s Erotica of the Year — Cover reveal

http://bestwomenseroticaoftheyear.tumblr.com/post/130562098582/cover-reveal-best-womens-erotica-of-the-year

Alcohol is the New Lube

Seriously. Don’t we already know this? And I mean lube in the best sense of the word. A drink, a cocktail, a beer… all make things easier to deal with. Maybe not deal with in a better way, but deal with as in not allowing the small stuff slow down your flow.

Bad day at the office? A glass of wine makes it all better. Bad day at the office? A glass of wine makes it all better. Argument with the spouse? A mojito might just hit the spot. A promotion at work? Cocktails, all around.

Now, don’t be thinking I think one should use alcohol as a crutch. You shouldn’t. If you need booze to actually deal with the things in your life, alcohol is using you and not the other way around. But at the cap or topper, occasionally? Shoo, we all do it. Now, don’t be thinking I think one should use alcohol as a crutch. You shouldn’t. If you need booze to actually deal with the things in your life, alcohol is using you and not the other way around. But at the cap or topper, occasionally? Shoo, we all do it.

With Halloween just around the corner. You know you’re gonna need a drink to handle all the rugrats about to bumrush your door, yo. And why not show up with a fabulous drink in your hands? 😉

Black Devil Martini

2 oz black rum
1/2 oz dry vermouth (I like Dolin Dry)
black olive garnish
orange sugar

1. Wet rim of martini glass with either rum or vermouth. Coat with orange sugar.
2. In a shaker, combine rum and vermouth with ice. Shake vigorously. Pour into glass. Garnish with black olives.
3. Be devilish. 😉

If you can keep your equanimity while handing out candy to strangers who feel that on one night of the week they can come to your door and beg, then maybe, just maybe, the night will end with some much needed romance. Because this drink is strong and it’s a twist on a traditional martini. And martinis are my jam, y’all. So… oh lube of life, I know you won’t fail me. Because if I’m just a little buzzed, I’m a happy girl and love is in my future. It’s amazing how a drink can somewhat predict my future. And that of my fabulous man. If you can keep your equanimity while handing out candy to strangers who feel that on one night of the week they can come to your door and beg, then maybe, just maybe, the night will end with some much needed romance. Because this drink is strong and it’s a twist on a traditional martini. And martinis are my jam, y’all. So… oh lube of life, I know you won’t fail me. Because if I’m just a little buzzed, I’m a happy girl and love is in my future. It’s amazing how a drink can somewhat predict my future. And that of my fabulous man.

In any event, mix up a martini. And you might meet your own devil on Halloween. He might even be wearing blue jeans. In any event, mix up a martini. And you might meet your own devil on Halloween. He might even be wearing blue jeans.

Music Monday 10/11/15

More music because writing needs a theme song track, y’all. Seriously. So I was writing and then I heard a commercial come on a and wouldn’t you know it, but the song really made my brain sit up and take notice.

I thought I’d share. Here you go.

Bishop singing Wild Horses. Bet it gets you going as well.

Romance on the Rocks

Martinis and Romance, Romance and Martinis. Which came first? And does it even really matter?

I don’t think so.

But what is coming first, middle and last, is Romance on the Rocks. It’s a new blog, yo. With some really great writers of all the things that are sexy and fabulous.

And the theme? You guessed it. Our favorite cocktails! Mine of course is the dirty martini. I love the olive juice as it cuts against the clear liquid. In the beginning, I began with vodka. Because it’s clear and tasteless. But I have since learned to love the gin. But… it has to be a softer gin. Like Boodles or Plymouth. Regardless, I am digging on regular martinis in addition to my dirty ones. Every once in a while, I still bust out the olive juice. But now, I use olives stuffed with blue cheese. I’ve heard of these being called dirty executives. I likey. So Dirty Executive, it is. Regardless of which martini drink you might favor, they are all delish.

Now, crack open a bottle and grab a man or a book and drink, people. Alcohol is the lube of life. And when it comes to Romance, alcohol makes everything go down far more smoothly.

Here’s the link to the fabulous new blog. Romance on the Rocks

Music Monday 9/28/15

Writing the sexy love scenes. It’s a pretty big one with turmoil and angst. Soooo, I needed some music to make that happen. And of course, it had to be sexy as well. Which brings me to the Weeknd. Gotta love an artist who went out on a limb to do the soundtrack song for Fifty Shades when others wouldn’t. But then he came up with even more goodness.

First up is the theme song from Fifty, Earned it.

 

Next up is Can’t Feel My Face. Which, of course, is about one of my favorite sexy activities. 😉

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the music selections. And here’s hoping my crazy sex scene makes it’s way into real life… your life.

Nazi Germany vs Enslaved America

Too many times there’s confusion about why we can empathize and have compassion for one yet deny the other. We all, North and South, reject flying the Nazi flag, yet entire segments of our population fly the Confederate flag with knowing unconcern. As dichotomies go, this is one that’s in your face and relevant to our current crises situation. And it’s absolutely maddening.

I get it, though.

It’s hard to stare at our shameful past behavior. It’s far easier to peer at another’s shameful behavior with neutrality and a lack of emotional baggage. Impartiality is attainable when you are passing judgment on another. It’s just that simple. We don’t like confronting out history of slavery, much like a child doesn’t like to admit they’re wrong when caught by parents. I don’t want to excuse our social gaffes on the fact that as a country and a people we are fairly young, but in instances like this, that youthfulness is glaring. Because other countries can and do confront past bad acts head on with adult-like responsibility. We just don’t seem to be able.

There is just no other explanation for why we can feel so deeply for the Jewish people and yet behave so scornfully toward black people in America today. And yes I said black people. Call me old school because that’s just how I grew up AND it’s not offensive. Or call me new school because I believe we are all Americans first now and other heritage second. So saying American of African descent or American of Asian descent or American of Hispanic descent or American of the First People, etc., is just too damn long for me. My designation are for brevity. That is all.

As a people, we recoil from the notion of prominently displaying our love for the Nazis of yore. And yes, I realize there is a segment of asshats who go around revering those tenets. In every batch, a few are rotten. But I digress. For far too long, we as a people looked on while really averting our eyes from the evidence of our own sordid past. As if seeing the signs of racism was to somehow acknowledge more than it’s mere historic presence. We can dialogue about our way past, but fuck you if you bring up how it affects our current daily lives. But even as I make that statement, American AP History is currently undergoing a traditional white-wash. And it’s a shame.

We can’t fix something if we don’t acknowledge that a problem exists. And that’s the most frustrating part. Trying to get around misplaced guilt and shame over past behavior is stupid. But to allow that ludicrous behavior to impact how we deal with the dregs of racism is offensive and serves to merely perpetuate our mistakes. We just don’t seem to be able to stop repeating our mistakes of the past. And it’s because we can’t face that past. We can’t look at it head on.

Look, if you think the Civil War didn’t have slavery as a central issue, you are white-washing history. End of. I don’t even want to talk further about it. But this inability to acknowledge what is going on today because it reminds one of that shameful past is criminal. We’re walking around hamstrung as a society. We can’t have a legitimate talk about the situation and possible fixes UNTIL AND UNLESS we say, “hey, institutional racism exists.”

And we were raging racists in our past. And the Civil War was about slavery. And flying the Confederate Flag is the same as flying the Nazi flag. What is hurtful to one group of people is hurtful to the other group of people for many of the same or similar reasons. And it’s that simple. Stop flying the flag that elevates slavery in America’s past as something to continued to be endured by Americans of African descent into today when we would never fly a flag that extolls the virtues of gassing European Jews. It’s a parallel.

If you really look at the heart of the matter, with your eyes and hearts open, you can see that parallel, too.

TSA… You Suck

Seriously. It’s been almost a decade and a half since 9/11, and you still suck.

Increasingly, the security measures you seem to want to enact are just tedious and unnecessary. Plus, they aren’t really finding any terrorists. Like not one. I’d be willing to endure, yes ENDURE, the stupid routine of removing my shoes and my computer and taking off my jacket only to be x-rayed to show all of my naked glory for the perving pleasure of people who couldn’t get any other job. But noooo, I must also endure the tossing of my cuticle scissors because they might be weapons.

Cuticle scissors, y’all.

Fucking cuticle scissors. From a matched set. Well, it’s not so matched now. Now, my set is missing the scissors I use to take off very tiny pieces of skin.

Does it stop there? Noooo, it does not.

This last time, they wanted me to throw away my wine corkscrew. Because it had a half inch wrapper remover. My corkscrew I was gifted in Tuscany. A trip that I want to remember and have very few momentoes of. But I wasn’t going to be deterred. So I requested to be able to mail the corkscrew to myself.

Is there a streamlined process for mailing shit to myself, you ask, you know, since it’s been almost a decade and a half since 9/11 and the most stupid security measures EVAR being in place of almost as long? Fuck No.

I have to leave the security area, of which I had already passed because they were digging in my bag to find my totally dangerous CORKSCREW. I have to go back out and mail that shit from a shipper who is going to charge me $10 to mail my shit to me. And then I have to go back through security and go to my gate. Is the shipper location prominently displayed? Fuck no. Is anything about this easy? Fuck no.

It’s a fucking mess at TSA. It’s a fucking mess at the private shipper. It’s a fucking mess at airports.

Traveling used to be fun. The plane ride was almost as anticipated as the final destination. It’s not that way anymore. It’s become tedious and something many people DO NOT look forward to. At. All.

Pro-tip TSA: The United States Post Office is also a governmental agency. Find a way for people to be able to drop ship their stuff to themselves from inside the goddamn security area. It can’t be that fucking hard, bitches. But in order to make traveling just little less of an ass pain than its become, you’d have to swirl some shit around in your head and come up with common sense solutions. It’s a skill that TSA has apparently never even thought of. TALK TO THE USPS and make mailing things you consider dangerous to ourselves. Because apparently, postal workers aren’t punk ass bitches and aren’t scared of corkscrews and cuticle scissors even if you are. Make mailing the things that frighten you, TSA, easier. It’s not that hard.

Cuticle scissors and a corkscrew.

Fuck you, TSA, you punk ass bitches.

Call in the USPS. Use your frickin’ common sense and try to make some shit EASIER because all you seem to be able to do is make things more difficult and hard.

 

Calling Out ALL The Jurists

… who have failed our legal system.

I don’t usually call out my fellow attorneys. But I can’t keep silent any longer. You must act.

We’ve allowed the bones of racism to run unchecked in the judicial system long enough. It must end. You must act. Inaction is legitimizing a system of discrimination that is steep in the law and allows the bones of racism to remain untouched by time and chaining perceptions. And it’s creating havoc in our country. Either be a part of the solution or you are a part of the problem.

I firmly believe that individual prejudices have diminished over time in most of us. Oh sure, there are wingnuts a-plenty, but the vast swath of American humanity has shed these prejudices as we’ve welcomed people of color into our families, acknowledged LGBTQ peeps in our families, and been accepting of individual differences. What hasn’t changed is the structure of racism we’ve had in our society so long most of us have even forgotten they are there. But they are and we are seeing the effects all around us.

Federal Sentencing Guidelines illustrates the remaining bones of racism quite clearly. Crack cocaine is punished at a bout 3 to 1 times longer than powder cocaine. Same chemical compound when viewed under a microscope, but the penalties for each is vastly different. Looking that the sentences, one might conclude that it is fair and doesn’t discriminate. Except when you start to really look at who uses crack cocaine and who uses powder cocaine. Yes, it is almost brightline delineation by race. By and large, one finds crack cocaine in brown and black neighborhoods. But and large, powered cocaine is found in white and yellow neighborhoods. So, wonder no more why there are so many black and brown people in jail. We punish them 3 times longer than we do for the EXACT SAME SUBSTANCE.

And this is just one example of the bones we’ve allowed to remain and grow in our judicial system. And it leads to institutional discrimination. The disparate impact was planned, at worst, and ignored, at best. We’ve been using these guidelines and having them have this disparate impact on people of color for YEARS. And done nothing. We’ve allowed this to fester and flourish. And we are wrong for having done nothing. And this is just ONE example.

There are so many more examples of the bones of racism that remain and which hold up and add structure to the cloak of our humanity, or lack thereof–if we do nothing. By failing to act, we’ve become complicit is supporting the bones of that discrimination. As our social perceptions have changed, we did nothing to get rid of all the ways smart societies use to hold back discrete groups of persons. And in American, it shouldn’t have been acceptable before. It isn’t acceptable now. And if we do nothing, then we also become complicit in the tinderbox our country will become as push comes to shove.

Being Asian Doesn’t Make Me ….

More like white women. It does statistically mean I will fall more within their range than any other women of color. Asians are punished less, in schools and by police. It’s part of the cultural stereotype.

But it hides a far more insidious comparison, one that most people don’t even realize. And it revolves around Asian sexuality. Isn’t it funny how Asian men are seen as emasculated or feminine or some other way softer? Even though we have ninja movies, karate movies, we know about Genghis Khan, mobs like the Triad and the like, we don’t see Asian men as testosterone-laden threats. And it shows up in arrest numbers and incarceration numbers. Cops just don’t generally pull over clean cut Asian dudes. Not like the black guys that drive.

At the same time, Asian women are highly sexualized. And not in a good way. We are desired because we look like prepubescent boys for far longer than any other ethnicity. Men go to Asia not just to fuck and marry little girls, they’re are those that just want a woman who looks like little girl. The mount of human trafficking of Asian women is out of this world. It seems the entire world of men are obsessed with women who look like little girls. And my Asian sisters bear the brunt of this desire.

Don’t get me wrong, other ethnicities are sexualized as well. Think of the media’s portrayal of the lush, overblown Latina. Or the strong, loud black woman who will break you with her punanai. But there is an insidious sickness when male eyes turn toward Asian women, you know those of us who look like we’re twelve even when we’re thirty. Subservience isn’t just expected, it’s demanded. And having a child-like or a real  girl child as your sexual partner means you can treat them as children all the while fucking them to death. In many parts of the world, Asian girls are discarded as unwanted only to be swooped up by the predators who know just who to  tap. I’ve heard there are entire travel industries set up for Western men to go a pick up a young Asian girl, whether in fact or in looks.

And when we finally get a voice to stalk about some stuff, are we heard on our own? No, we get lumped in with the white girls. Now, I’m not dissing my light skinned sisters, but seriously? Do you even know what it’s like to not know math in a group of math overachievers? And I say that tongue in cheek. But you have no idea how many stereotypes I have to wade through each day just to get to my preferred endeavor with words.

I get why so many of my feminist brothers and sisters tend to lump us in with the white girls. In many ways, we escape the stigma of having darker colored skin. As we’ve seen recently, being black in America can be a dangerous thing. Asian women  and men generally escape this portion of the discrimination our country seems to want to mete out. But I gotta tell you, as Asian women, we only get the benefit of being lumped together with the white girls… until we don’t.

We’re largely ignored in the larger feminist dialogue. So we’ve become the invisible women wanting to know when it’ll be our time to shine, to have our fears voiced and our concerns addressed.