All right those who know the song know there were no such thing in the store…in the store. There were none in the pot here either last week but I was busy making the book trailer. Does anyone know how hard it is to get decent pics of harlots? I know that sounds a contradiction in terms. Move over Mr Hitchcock.
A younger more dramatic me was forced to make a guest appearance. And I wouldn’t like to tell you how many times the door bell rang and I thought it was the police You try googling (now that’s googling not goggling ) images of blond hunks on beds and see what comes up.
And you thought you were getting more of the sexy ginger cat and maybe a cartoon of Lupernalia? No. That’s for another time.
No, I thought I’d blog about writers, how to spot one, including on their own book trailer, but I came across some excellent blogs already on that very subject so I thought—light bulb moment– why not talk to the writer’s long suffering partner? About living with an erotic historical fiction writer, Fury’s rules on sex and the low down on that book trailer.
Q. First of all Mr Shey how true is it that writers gaze into space a lot? Generally require lots of it? Don’t bother with mundane things like dusting and leave trails of coffee cups in their wake?
A. And I thought when Shey gazed into space she was thinking of me. They have also been known to bake the icing sugar in the oven instead of the cake mix. This week though I was pleased to come home to steak on the table, and mushy peas. Shey said she was using the ones I had left over from lunch. I was a bit bemused by this as I couldn’t think of any I had eaten for lunch but I ate it anyway. Then I found out the pot of broccoli soup I had set aside for the next day’s lunch had disappeared.
Of course Shey was very busy. Shey also shares a docility in common with her heroines, so naturally I said nothing.
Q. What do you think of Fury’s ten rules?
A. Being a man and hopefully a cutter to the chase I’m intrigued with the notion of sex with no touching. What kind of sex are we talking here? Is it Tantric Sex? Metaphorical Sex? Aerobic Exercise Sex? Or just your bog standard ‘You’re not getting Sex’ Sex? As for her rules generally I’ll admit to being conflicted – on the one hand I admire her chutzpah and on the other I think she needs slapped in the attitude! As for Rule Four I doubt he’s too concerned with that since he’s already floored by the first three!
Q. Who do you think will crack first?
A. If Flint’s the man he seems and she’s the woman she seems I hope they’ll crack together! But a betting MAN’S money would be on HIM given women’s wiles [Note how unfortunate typo was avoided here]. However it’s probably like the Battle of Waterloo— a damn close run thing. There I’ve manned up! Being a Privateer and Sea Captain was probably a dawdle compared to contending with this ‘piece of work’. Then again her rules suggest she finds him quite a challenge.
Q. I am saying nothing with regard to her many secrets. But Flint isn’t just an alpha…he’s an anti-hero alpha so she must do something. But why do you think it would be him?
A. At the risk of a sexist remark women are more complicated then men. Who knows – in a parallel universe where it’s the other way it might even be a sexy remark!
Now for a game of spot the writer…….