Damn, What A Bummer

I’ll admit I was initially disappointed. In what? Well, in the mid-January print release of WANTON WINTER, an Ellora’s Cave anthology containing five winter-themed novellas from authors Cheyenne McCray, Daisy Dexter Dobbs, Katherine Cross, Shelby Reed, and moi…disappointed, that is, because it was released after the winter holidays. To me, the timing was too late—I wondered why anyone would be interested in a winter-themed book after the holidays.

But then I got to thinking about my own book-buying habits. I clicked over from author mode to reader-only mode and realized it wasn’t such bad timing after all…

See, here’s the deal. I’m a very fickle person, and I often yearn for what I don’t have. For instance, where I live in northern Wisconsin, it’s freezing cold right now. In the midst of all the snowdrifts, ice coating the roads, and biting winds rattling my windows, I find myself reaching for books on my shelf set in the sultry heat of the tropics, or stories during spring or summer holidays like 4th of July.

BUT (yeah, there’s always a “but” with me *grin*) the key phrase here is “reaching for books on my shelf”, books that are already there on hand, because since I’m lazy, I tend to buy ahead. I don’t want to have to go out and purchase an item when I need it—I'm impatient and I want it to be there when I'm ready. So just like in a department store where I might buy bunches of winter items off the clearance rack in, say, February or March and save them for the next season, I kind of use this same pattern when shopping for books. (Clothes out of style by then? Eh, I’m not one to care.)

Are you getting my twisted line of thinking yet? Confused? Heehee, me too. But let me explain it this way… The summer-set books I’m dying to read in the dead of winter are already sitting on my shelf from previous summer (online usually) buying sprees, while the winter books I’ll be hungering to read come summertime, I might buy now during the cold season in anticipation of the heat. Yep, I lubs me some book hoarding. And since I typically hate to shop, I do a lot of it in one huge seasonal spree, and then when the mood strikes me, there’s no need to drag my ass out (or online) and *groan* shop. All I have to do is peruse my overloaded, sagging bookshelves and pick out a book that will instantly transport me from, for instance, this freaking Arctic I’m trapped in, to the scorching heat of Hawaii.

So see, as a reader, I decided WANTON WINTER’s mid-January release isn’t all that bad because I’d typically buy a holiday- or winter-themed book while it’s still cold. I’d then stockpile it for summer when it’s so sweltering hot I can’t breathe, and I’m longing to escape into a story where the hero and heroine are making wild love in front of a crackling fire, or skiing down a chilly mountainside in pursuit of the villain.

What sort of book-buying habits do you have? Are they hit-and-miss without rhyme or reason? Do you buy based on current seasons or holidays? Or do you ruthlessly plan ahead like I do, buying and then saving books in anticipation of cold winter days or sizzling summer nights?

Titania Ladley is a multi-published author writing for Ellora’s Cave, Samhain, and Red Sage. Upcoming books include FIRES WITHIN (Red Sage - April 2008), BREATHLESS (Ellora's Cave Exotika - April 4, 2008), and KABANA HEAT (Samhain - TBA). Please visit her at http://www.titanialadley.com/ or at http://www.roxanablaze.com/ , her other naughty half's website.

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As some of you may have noted, I have a thing for cabins isolated out in the middle of the woods. The aptly titled Cabin Fever features an entire mountainside that isolates Daniel and Isabel from the stresses of the city, and in Secret Submission and Submission Revealed, Phillip’s home is a cottage centered in a hundred-acre wood. In both, the city represents all that keeps them from their dreams…only in the remote cabin are the characters free to be who they wish.

Why do I point that out? Because my husband and I have just realized a long-held goal. After years and years of looking, drooling, dreaming…we bought our very own cabin in the woods.

Fate has a funny way of twisting itself around you sometimes. In a conversation with our neighbor (whom we’ve known for fourteen years), she made a brief reference to the fact that they were selling their cabin and her husband had gone out to show it to a couple who were interested in buying it. My dearly beloved and I looked at each other. “Cabin?” I said. “Cabin?” he said. Neither of us had ever known they owned a cabin.

We prodded for information and discovered that they and another couple had bought the land (twelve wooded acres on a mountainside in New York’s Southern Tier) back in the ‘70’s and they’d built a 1600 sq ft cabin on it. Now, I have to tell you…1600 sq ft was the size of our first house, so this is no tiny little place! We avidly listen and pump for more information. We let her know we are VERY interested in looking at it and for the price they were asking…we’d almost buy it sight unseen.

That weekend, we went down to get a good look. Three miles out of the nearest town, the roads turned to dirt. Another three miles later, we turned off into a farmer’s lane. I’d like to say the fall colors were at peak and the sun shone brightly…but the reality was it was pouring buckets full. Inside and out.

Yes, that’s right. The ceiling leaked. A lot. As I tell everyone we’ve brought there since, you need to look at it with the rose-colored glasses of potential, not the clear glasses of reality. Seems the two families had built the place on weekends for nearly three years after they bought it. Then the kids grew up and the couples went out less and less. For the last five years, the place had been virtually abandoned and it looked it. The leaks had rotted the floors in two places, a squirrel had chewed a hole over the back door and moved in…along with the field mice who’d used the uncovered insulation in the walls as nesting material. The wall-to-wall rugs stunk with animal odors and rot.

But what we saw…was our wish turned to reality. We’d already rebuilt our first house, we could rebuild this one. Shaking hands with our neighbor, we bought the shell and would build the dream.

So why do I write about this today? Because the sun is shining and the air temperature is thirty degrees and there’s no wind. Because I want to be out there working (I’ve learned to spackle!) and I don’t care if there’s no electricity, no running water or heat. It’s my escape and I want to be there. It’s where I’ll write when the weather turns warm and where I’ll dream up new stories and new characters…and I can’t wait to meet them. And although life keeps me home today, I look forward to the day when we can call the cabin home.

Why I don't want anything for Valentine's!

I mean it! It’s true. I don’t want, need or expect ANYTHING for Valentine’s. And, frankly, that’s how it’s been for years. My husband and I have been married for almost 20 years now, and we even had four Valentine’s days before that. In the beginning we exchanged cards and little gifts. I think I got perfume one year. And I’ve had a few nice dinners. But over the years that tradition…dwindled. We might still exchange cards, and I might get a rose, but I neither need or expect either. Why, you might ask? Have I just been so neglected over the years that I’ve given up? My husband is such an insensitive heel that there is simply no point in even reminding him about Valentine’s? No. Not by a long shot.

In fact it’s just the opposite. In fact, if I’m honest, I’m hopelessly spoiled. Here’s just a little sampling of what I’m treated to on a regular basis:

Shopping. My hubby actually ENJOYS taking me shopping. He delights in going to lingerie shops or looking for sexy clothes for me, and admiring me while I try them on. He also picks items out while I’m holed up in the change room…and he’s GOOD at it!

Nightlife. I get treated to dinner and club-dancing on a regular basis. We go out to eat, drink wine, and dance into the wee hours at least once a month if not more. And my husband actually enjoys dancing with me. And, over the years, he’s even gotten good at it! Lol

Massages. My husband has magic hands. I do not exaggerate when I say that I would have spent a mint on massage therapists if not for him. But he doesn’t just massage me when I have strained muscles or aches and pains. Massages, complete with scented oils and candles, are a regular treat that he never denies me when asked. And he has been known to massage me, from head to toe, through an entire movie.

Bathing. On the evenings that I decide I need to soak in a hot tub, he has been known to draw the bath for me, set up the candles and fix me a martini to help me soothe out the knots.

Every day, of every week, of every month, of every year, I am reminded over and over again, how much he loves me and how beautiful he thinks I am. I don’t need any gifts, or one special day out of the year to remind me of that. I’m damn lucky, and I know it.

So, that’s MY Valentine’s experience, and frankly, a bit of a Valentine’s gift for my hubby. But now….Having said all that….what is YOUR typical Valentine’s day like? What will you and your special significant other do this week to celebrate, if anything? Or….do you have a special memory of a particularly special Valentine’s that you’d like to share?

Fan Letters

I wrote my first fan letter to an author many years ago. I read my very first LaVyrle Spencer book (Hummingbird) and absolutely loved it. I enjoyed it so much, I wanted to tell Ms. Spencer that. I never expected to hear back from her. After all, I was only a little peon and she was a FAMOUS AUTHOR!

I was surprised and delighted to receive a postcard from her a few weeks later, thanking me for writing to her. Not only did I love her writing, but she was nice.

Now, in the days of electronic mail, it's much easier to contact the authors we admire so much. Most have websites with e-mail information on them. Many authors have blogs, such as this one. Yahoo Groups makes it easy for authors and readers to interact with each other. It's like we're all one big happy family!

I've received some very nice e-mails from people who've read my books. It amazes me that someone will take time away from his/her busy schedule to write to me. I received an e-mail this week that said she referred me to a friend, who bought five of my books. Wow! What a huge compliment.

I love writing. I truly love it. There is nothing in life that gives me greater joy than to create a story about two people falling in love. (Or three, in the case of my menages.) The ups and downs, the misunderstandings, the forgiveness for those misunderstandings, the realization that they truly love each other and want to be together forever... Ah, it's so sweet.

Did you ever write a fan letter to an author? Tell me about it.

Lynn

The New TSTL Heroine

There is a phrase in romance writing & reading…the TSTL heroine. Too Stupid To Live. She’s the heroine who, despite having no training and no experience, won’t stay hidden while bad guys are shooting at her and the hero because she doesn’t want to be “left behind”. Irritating enough but now, I think the meaning of TSTL needs to change to…Too Slutty To Live.

Being an erotic romance author I understand the desire and need to get to the sex quickly but can we please not forget the basics of writing a good story…like goal, motivation and conflict? When did it become completely acceptable for our heroine to just randomly have sex with a guy because she’s horny or bored?

It’s like we don’t believe any woman would—or should—say “no” to sex with a good looking guy. Is this heroic behavior?

And not to be sexist, I believe guys are slutty when they behave like this too.

The prevailing theory about romance readers is that they want to fall in love with the hero and be friends with heroine.

I recently read a short story where the hero performs a dubious rescue for the heroine and then within minutes of meeting each other, they have sex. To the point that, as they are getting naked, she has to ask him his name. Huh? This is just sex and while that's not necessarily a bad thing, I want a romance around the tale.

I don’t believe the couple (trio?) need to be “in love” before they sleep together, but as a reader I want there to be some connection beyond “I’m horny and you’re hot”. I want a story, a romance, along with the hot sex.

I used to read romance novels, finish the book and think “it was good but it could have had more sex”. Then I discovered erotic romance novels and I’d found what I was looking for (in books, at least). The story was still a romance with a lot of hot sex. More and more I’m reading stories filled with hot sex but I have little interest in the characters or the story. I want to like and cheer for the heroes and heroines.

So, cheers to the authors who keep bringing us characters who not only have hot sex but who we can like and admire when we’re all sweaty and exhausted lying in the afterglow.

DO DOGS HAVE SOULS?

I sure am hoping they do.

Today I decided to dedicate my blog post to a very special friend who left on November 28th. Yes, you can guess it by the subject line. Kaydee, my oh-so-loved yellow lab, finally lost her battle with life, old age and cancer.

Damn it stung to lose her. So badly that I couldn’t even talk about it aloud for days without getting a bitter lump that nearly choked me. I guess you’d have to be a huge animal lover to understand that emotion. You see, in our house our animals are an integral part of our family. So much so that they receive gifts on Christmas morning from Santa Claus – something that my grown children still consider a cherished memory; and so much so that we’d never consider spending a weekend at the lake or a ride in the boat without one of them at the helm. I know, a little nutsy, but I could never help myself. I just love my pets. In fact, I have a girlfriend that insists she wants to come back as one of my pets if reincarnation is an actual thing.

I remember the day we brought Kaydee home. She was this tiny little yellow bundle of energy with a velvet coat, warm and wet kisses and a tail that didn’t stop wagging, and it was instant love, one that continued for thirteen years even through those first puppy unconventional behaviors of chewing, peeing and whining throughout the night. I remember admonishing her for her bad behaviors and her looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes and ears tucked back as if saying, “I promise to never do it again…well, at least for another hour or so.”

Kaydee came into her own when she turned one year old. She became my appointed personal guardian and nothing and no one would ever change her mindset. We live close to a lake which one would think is a dog nirvana—especially when that dog is a water-loving lab. I learned early on that I couldn’t swim with her. I think Kaydee couldn’t stand the fact that there was a possibility I might drown, even if I was standing in water only up to my knees. And lord help me if a dove in because she was there with panic-stricken eyes and flailing paws and a gentle but firm mouth trying to pull me back to shore. The scratches weren’t worth it. But it was done out of her love for me because she never exhibited this behavior with anyone else. Just me.

Another funny thing that used to make the kids howl with laughter was when we all went sliding in the winter. The kids and my husband would be whipping down a frozen snow-packed hill, having the time of their lives. Me? Well, I’d be on the sled and Kaydee would gently, but again firmly, hold my gloved hand or jacket covered sleeve in her mouth and WALK me down the hill. No way was that dog gonna chance me getting hurt by going too fast. It was hysterical, but again it was her love for me.

Kaydee was that once-in-a-lifetime pet that you never forget. My kids used to use her as their outfielder when playing baseball in the yard. Since there were three of them, one would be pitcher, one would be catcher, and one would be the batter. And that goofy lab sat in the outfield, chasing hit balls and bringing them back before racing back to her place ready to fetch the next hit. And football…oh my gosh. She could leap six feet off the ground, catch that football in her paws and come to a rolling stop with her tail wagging a mile a minute!

We learned early on that the fishing boat didn’t leave shore without her. She’d take her spot at the very front, dig her toenails in for balance and sniff the air. She had her spot in the back seat next to the window when riding in the vehicle and lord help the kid that tried to push her to the middle! She was my walking partner that always looked after me. If a car was coming down the road, she gently shouldered me closer to the ditch and sat in front of me as we waited for the passing traffic.

Never was there a night that she didn’t put her paws up on the mattress beside me to kiss me goodnight. I think that was my favorite part of the day. She’d give me a soft lick and burrow her head into the crook of my neck. I always responded with a hug, a soft stroke to those velvet ears, a gentle pat to her head and a kiss on her nose and of course a whisper that I loved her. Then she’d stretch out beside me on the floor and snore through the night. Can you imagine thirteen years of waking up during the night or early in the morning and having to feel with my feet so I could step over her instead of tripping into the dresser because she wasn’t moving for nothing!

Last spring, age and illness began its insidious march through her body. I knew that our limited days together were quickly piling one atop another. I remember the look in my husband’s eyes, a quiet reminder that yes, at some point I was going to have to make a decision, but I’d quickly toss it away and instead, find a special treat for my friend. Like an ostrich, I buried my head in the sand hoping to stop time, hoping to have this wonderful dog in my life forever. So when she couldn’t put her paws up on the mattress to kiss me goodnight, instead I cuddled with her on the floor to stroke her, to memorize the smell of her fur and the feel of her soft ears against my fingers. She’d sigh happily and her tail would thump against the carpet. She actually smiled. Instead, when summer rolled around, I sat at the water’s edge with her body leaning against mine and my arm wrapped around her as we watched the ducks swim by. Our walks turned into a slow stroll to the mailbox at the end of the driveway because her old and sick limbs just couldn’t go any farther.

When the front steps became too much for her, we lifted her down so she could lay in the yard and watch the squirrels scurry from one tree to another instead of playing the game of chasing them from one to another. The leaves were turning to the bright colors of fall and she’d lift her head to sniff the coming of winter.

And my husband would silently give me that look. I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I had to do one more thing for my friend. It was just a matter of me coming to terms with it.

I sit here in my office, typing and almost expecting to hear her breathing as she lies beside me on the rug. And I remember how I felt this past December – I would never put myself through this again. I just missed her too much. I still miss her. It was too painful not having her here with me anymore. Then I think of what I would have missed, the simple joy of Kaydee’s utter and unconditional love. Was the pain of having to say goodbye worth it? You bet it was. I would have missed out on so much if those thirteen years hadn’t happened.

So, the question. Do dogs have souls? Unequivocally, yes. I have to believe that because someday we’ll meet again. I’m sure she’ll be sitting at that gate, ready to protect me and to walk by my side. Her tail will thump wildly, her warm tongue will swipe my face and that furry hug that I have so missed, will warm my heart again.

Grocery shopping & snow storms

Sorry I am late blogging.
I got up early to go to the Grocery store which is my normal early morning routine
on Sunday's because I like fresh sandwich meat for the week's lunches. I also like the
fact that it's less crowded due to most people being in church but sinners like me
well, i like having fun (LOL) and God knows where to find me if he needs me.
Next time I hear there's snow in the forecast, I think I'll skip it.
Why is it that when a snow storm is predicted that every old person in town decides
they have to pack the stores? Do they think the world will end if they don't buy up
all the bread and milk?

I'm open to reason. I'm sure they think that the snow will pile up and they might
not be able to get out for days. But aren't most people prepared from week to week.
God knows, my pantry stays packed with canned goods and bottled water. But is
that just me?
What's in your pantry? I'd love to know.

Now lets switch to something else since we're on the subject of food and I've ranted over the packed store.
Anyone out there got a favorite snowy day dish? Something you make when the family is
stuck home and the fire's toasty in the fireplace or woodburning stove.
What do you make when you're snowed in?
I'm making lasagna. My 16 yr old is having his friends over later to watch the
Giant's play. There's snow in the forecast and a fire in the wood stove.
I'm home for the day and will pop back to hear what you've got to say.

Looking forward to playing with ya'll
Tara Nina
I'd love to hear.