When I deem something creative you gotta know that it is. After all, I’m the one that will bring home a lampshade and installs it upside down on one of our lamps. I drove Honey crazy one summer because I wanted a bird feeder fountain and you know? No one sold them, so I was determined to build one myself. But, um, there was a good reason no one made them. ‘Nuff said on that expensive debacle. Anyway, getting back to my point.

Honey has lived with me long enough to know that yes, I may have the occasional hair-brained scheme that’s a bust, but usually my wacky reinvention of an old convention works. Oh, I might have to fight tooth-and-nail to get him to tweak it for me. Like the time I brought home a four and a half foot antique wood carved candle stick and told him I wanted it for a lamp base. He took one look at it and said, “Have you been drinking? You actually think I have a drill bit long enough to channel out the center of this for the electric?” At which I did my patented shrug. What did I care about drill-bits? All I wanted was a lamp. When I said as much to him, he did the long drawn breath through his nose and took the piece in question out to the garage. There it sat until I complained loud enough for him to have a good look at. When he did, he shook his head and said, “You are the luckiest little…I drilled down half inch and wouldn’t you know it? There’s a metal bar right through the center.”

Meh, I didn’t want to rain on his parade or anything, but in truth, he was the lucky one because I wasn’t the one who was going to have to come up with an alternate plan if there was no hollowed out center to be found. ;) I kept that little fact to myself. Some things are better left unsaid, you know? Anyway, we’ve lived comfortably all these years with me being the creative one. Which brings me to the crux of the matter today.

This morning when I reached for the soap to wash my face I noticed something. The soap dish in my master bath was different. Yes very different, but familiar. Where had I seen this…? I slammed off the tap and stood straight up.

“Hey,” I called to him. “Did you change my soap dish for a reason?”

Honey’s tone was chipper. “Yep, you like it? I’ve been waiting for you to notice.”

I pluck the soap out of it and pick up the dish. Sauntering out of the bathroom I walk over to him. “Yes, I do like it and you do too.”

He frowns. “I know.” When I do nothing, but hold it up in front of him, his frown deepens. “What?”

“Not that it matters but, you usually like this when it’s on the table at Thanks Giving.”

“Thanks Giving?”

“Yeah,” I turn it around. ” Did you miss the stylized turkey as the handle? This is my “Thanks Giving” china butter dish.”

He scowls and goes on the defensive. “How was I supposed to know that’s what it was? It looks great as a soap dish.”

“Hm. Well, aside from the fact that I don’t keep bathroom accessories in my china cabinet and um, a turkey isn’t a popular bathroom motif, I can see where you might have made that mistake.”

He walks off shaking his head and I’m left thinking, that either he’s far more creative than I’ve given him credit for or my taste in serving dishes sucks the bag.

Riley :)

 

 

I was so surprised to receive this from my publisher,

 

Ellora’s Cave.

 

It’s a SuperStar Award for 2012

 

and I received it! It’s SO purdy!!!!

 

 

 

 

And then…

 

I received notification that my debut novel

 

Reclaimed Surrender

 

Published by Ellora’s Cave

 

is a 2013 Epic ebook Award Finalist!!!!!!

 

Super excited about this too!!!!

 

(Chick on the silver medallion to see the full list of nominees) 

 

 

 

 

This occurred to me yesterday when my honey and I had a difference of opinion. I asked him to hang a mirror in our hallway. Now, I don’t know about anyone else, but when I want a mirror hung it’s usually because I want to be able to see myself it in. *shrug* I could be wrong about this, yet no matter how many times I stood in front of the darn thing when he’d launched it so high on the wall I could only stare at the top two inches of my head, it was hard to get excited. Conclusion? Well, my hair part was straight and I may have to look into Botox if those forehead creases get any deeper and for a certainty, if I wanted to look myself in the eye I’d have to get a ladder out.

Sheesh! Seriously? I pulled him next to me so we’re facing the mirror. Think American Gothic picture without the pitchfork and a woman that’s a foot shorter than the guy. Hence, the only things reflected in the mirror are Honey’s frowning features and my perfectly parted hair. So the problem should be obvious, right?

Wrong.

Honey grumbles, “Any lower and the mirror won’t be centered between the floor and ceiling.”

Hmm… the ceiling is higher than average, so I’m wondering how many giants he’s expecting to the house that are going to want to groom themselves. “Who told you to center it? I thought we marked where you were going to hang it?”

“We did, but when I held it up to double check I couldn’t see myself in it.”

Huh. He had me there. “I see. Well, it needs to be lowered.”

“I can’t lower it. I hung it with anchors.”

Um, at this point, I couldn’t have given a rat’s ass what he hung it with. “So, change them.”

“It’s not that easy. The drywall is compromised. It won’t be strong enough to hold the weight if I move it.”

I’m thinking, Really? Because I can always tell when he’s trying to dazzle me with installation mumb-jumbo. He once tried to tell me that fifty-eight degrees was too chilly an outside temperature to use exterior paint. I’m blonde, but I get it from a bottle, you know? Anyway, I know where this is going so I do the forward retreat. :D Instead of arguing about what came before because an alpha will never admit they made a mistake, I appeal to his need to be right and go forward. I simply nod and walk off. Which kills him. He hates it when he doesn’t know what I’m thinking. As planned he follows.

“Hey, where are you going? Why are you putting on your shoes?”

“I’m going to the hardware store. I’m going to explain to one of the guys there about these anchors that compromised the drywall and maybe they’ll have some suggestions about how to fix this.”

Okay, imagine his jaw clenching and his teeth gnashing and him letting out a really, REALLY big sigh. “I didn’t say it couldn’t be fixed. I SAID, it couldn’t be lowered because it was on anchors.”

“Oh,” I kick off my shoes, shrug, and saunter past him. “Okay, then.”

“Okay then, what?”

“Don’t lower it. Fix it.”

Ah, you gotta love the forward retreat! It works every time.

Riley

‘It is always by way of pain one arrives at pleasure.’ Marquis de Sade

I believe this to be true, but I don’t believe the main attraction is the pain or bondage. Those things are the catalyst that will propel the individual to their ultimate pleasure which I’d define as knowing someone has complete control over you, deciding what you’ll do, hear, touch, taste, smell and feel. It’s this kind of catharsis that brings the coveted euphoria.

Meh, don’t worry. I’m not going to go all Freud on the topic, I just think it’s interesting that some people literally have to be tied up to be truly free.  Anyway, *shakes self* where was I? Oh yeah…

I want to talk about bondage as it’s a simple and tangible action that draws out a very emotional or intrinsic response. By being restrained, held captive and corralled an individual’s choice and reason is removed from the equation. Intellect is powerless to war against long repressed desires. Quite simply, the individual is free from the self that has held them back.

This aspect of BDSM is what I love to explore with my characters. Bondage that actually opens the mental prison cell of an individual, freeing this person, which ironically leads them to the most poignant sexual epiphany they’ll ever experience if it’s done right. It’s the how to do it right that I focus on because there is a lot that can go wrong if you’re not paying attention. Communication is the key. Honest communication no matter how embarrassing.

This is why I say bondage is good for the soul. It allows you to bare that soul to your captor/dominant/lover and when that trusted person embraces this most precious part of you there’s no feeling more empowering in the world.

Just my .02.

Riley 

Ethan White

 

 Colin Reneaux

***SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY***SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY***

To set this up, Colin Reneaux has just asked Ethan White how he makes the D/s concept of BDSM seem acceptable -normal even, and he puts a question to her. He asks her who gets to define normal? When she’s stuck for an answer, because it was a darn good question, this is what he tells her: 

     “My normal is as follows. I like to spank, suck, fuck, cherish, challenge, discipline, correct, entice and control my woman. You may think that seems demeaning. I know you like that word, but I’m smart enough to know there’s no honor in degrading a girl who thinks she’s worthless. I make sure my woman knows her value because I don’t do all these things to her, I do them for her. There’s a vast difference between the two.”

For more Six Sunday Fun click here

 

IF YOU WANT TO CHECK OUT BDSM ROMANCE OF A DIFFERENT KIND… CLICK HERE

 

 

 

 

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