Author Archives: Dita Parker

About Dita Parker

I love to write. I love loving. I love to write about love and sweet loving. I'm published with Ellora's Cave.

So you want to write erotic romance

I don’t know what I thought would happen when my first book with Ellora’s Cave came out. I don’t remember having any expectations. All I remember feeling was violent happiness. I got to share my story with the world! I most certainly didn’t expect for loved ones to start dying on me or how devastating an effect it would have on my personal and professional life, and how much the publishing industry in general and the erotic romance market in particular would change while I sorted out my soul and wrote another story for EC.

I know I had visions of one day writing full-time, visions the ever-changing, ever-expanding publishing scene blurred quite effectively as I tried to get back in the game. Don’t quit the day job, then. (And if you call it an evil day job, and mean it, please consider looking for something you don’t hate with a fire just in case you’re stuck with it.) My work has always involved language, text and words in one form or another. It’s always allowed me to do what I love, which is write, so it’s never been tedious. (OK, maybe sometimes, when I would have rather let my more creative side loose.)

Then again, you’ll never know if you don’t go. All-in, balls out. It’s just that…for every selling author, there are a thousand and one, ten thousand and one, who hardly sell at all. (Their stories may be just as good, even better than the popular ones. And still.) For every poorly selling author, there are one hundred thousand and one who never get a publisher. Or should I say got. With the self-publishing option available to anyone who can follow instructions, everyone can be a published author. (Their stories may, note: may be so much poorer than yours. And still they’re out there.)

If you dream of writing erotic romance for publication, and above all for a living, be advised: You are coming in to a market where the reader is spoilt for choice. Publishers, self-publishing sites and subgenres galore; established authors, newbie authors, self-published authors galore. Cyberspace is infinite so there really is room for everyone’s story. That’s not the problem. There’s also plenty of room to get lost, feel lonely, never be seen or heard, and that may pose a problem.

Then again, if you’re writing because you love to and it’s all the same to you how your book does as long as it’s out there, then, well, it’s all the same to you, isn’t it? But if you expect to see a big return on time and effort invested, please remember: the number of titles published is on the way up, sales on the way down, and pirates bear no resemblance to a cuddly Captain Sparrow, they are as ruthless and heartless as Davy Jones. Many published authors make fun money at best. Most of us writing ebooks have been pirated. All of us write because we love it and who succeeds and to what extent is a bit like playing darts in the dark. You never know what will stick and who you’ll hit.

Lack of large backlist notwithstanding, I’ve spent several years in the know, my eyes and ears open. So. This much I know. If you’re about to submit your first story or if it’s already been contracted and you have visions of fortune and fame, two words: survivorship bias. Look it up. Just so you’re prepared. Anything can happen. Nothing much might.

My debut came out the same day as Laurann Dohner’s. She is now a NY Times and USA Today best-selling author. Some other EC authors who were starting out around that time… They’re gone. I’m not sure where and I’m not sure why and I guess their reasons are none of my business, but there’s one in particular I was damn sorry to see disappear because of how good she was. An excellent author all-around.

I don’t want to discourage you. I want you to be prepared. If you are, none of what I just said came as a surprise. If you’re not sure, two posts you may want to look at to assess where you stand, what the odds are and how to improve them: agent Rachelle Gardner on volume and variety. And if you’re on the self-publishing path, agent-turned-author Nathan Bransford is recording his experience and dispensing wisdom on his mighty fine blog.

This is my last post with the 69ers. I want to thank everyone who’s stopped by, read and commented on the ramblings of this southern girl from the north, and I want to thank my partners in smut for the fun we’ve had and shared and wish you every success. I’ll be rooting for you! This ain’t an easy business but if you got it in you, it’s worth your best shot.

I think I have something in my eye. Or maybe I’m just allergic to goodbyes. This…you…all of it, will always be a dream come true. Hang on to yours, dearest 69ers.

Hoping for a smutty reunion, with love and smooches,

Dita

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The F word

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I count my blessings on International Women’s Day. That would be today. I like to think I count my blessings every day but I don’t think I do because so many of the things I’m thankful for are things most of us take pretty much for granted.

I was born to parents who wanted a baby. Not a boy or a girl, a child. I was told I could study anything I wanted, be whatever I chose to be. No profession, no field, was out of the question just because I happened to be a woman. I could vote and run for office. I had rights protected by law. I could choose my partner in life, and I had the choice of not having one, never marrying. I could choose if and when I wanted to have sex. I could choose if and when I had children. Their future is not dependent on what’s between their legs any more than my was. The world is open to them as it has always been for me. I’ve been free and I’ve had choices and I’ve had the freedom to choose.

Imagine not having that. Any of it. From the cradle to the grave. The course of your life, your story, dictated by others. Not being seen or heard. Not by your family, not by judge and jury, not by society itself. Every time I hear someone say they have no use for feminism, I can’t help but think they’ve forgotten. Forgotten how lucky we are. Forgotten how to be grateful. Forgotten the fate of their female ancestors, not so long ago. Forgotten how fast rights left unguarded come under attack.

Forgotten that what we take for granted is still a distant dream for many. Forgotten what words like compassion and solidarity mean. Forgotten how to stand up, raise their voices and fight for the rights and freedom of those who have none. Forgotten that the plight of some degrades us all, that helping out your sisters is doing yourself a favor. None of us will be treated equally until all of us are. All of us will continue to be threatened, verbally, physically, for as long as some of us are allowed to be.

So you have no use for feminism. On this International Women’s Day, please consider lending all that surplus of yours to those who still desperately have.

XO, D.

“A feminist is anyone who recognizes the equality and full humanity of women and men.” ― Gloria Steinem

Illustration a free stock image from 123RF.com

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And the nominees for hottest movie scene are

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It’s that time of the year again, Oscars time. How about some sweet lovin’ scenes to heat up the screen? Those are notoriously hard to get right. You want the audience burning up with the characters, not glancing at their watches/phones/toes. You want the audience squirming in their seats, and not because they’re going, “Awk-ward!” My nominees for scenes/movies that made me go ooh not boo are (in no particular order)

The introductory “It’s Raining Men” number from Magic Mike (2012). Let’s get this out of the way. But just because any man who can bust a move has my undivided attention. And because dancing makes every scene a sensual one.

Case in point: Dirty Dancing (1987). Special Mention: the scene where Baby goes up to Johnny’s cabin. That dance of theirs…that’s foreplay after my own heart. What follows is just as sweet.

Many of you 69ers love cowboys. And some good M/M. You’ve allll seen Brokeback Mountain (2005), right? Plenty of heated moments in that movie, but what lit me up and broke my heart at the same time was the bittersweet scene where Ennis and Jack are reunited, where Ennis throws Jack against a wall and kisses him senseless. What they feel, what they want, what they know they’ll never have, it’s all there in that scene and that kiss.

Another amazingly expressive face: Diane Lane’s Connie in Unfaithful (2002) after Paul grabs her, takes her to bed and then just takes her. It’s written all over her face. How she wants it, how she knows she shouldn’t, how much she’s loving it, how she knows she really really shouldn’t, but ooh…

Eyes blaze, chests heave, words come out in a rush, they’re drenched…and fully clothed, having a heated discussion in a gazebo in the rain. Miss Eliza Bennet and Mr. Darcy in the 2005 rendition of Pride and Prejudice. Not a faithful adaptation but as sexy as Austen gets.

The passion between Carré Otis and Mickey Rourke in Wild Orchid (1989). They were a couple at the time of filming and rumor has it they weren’t acting. I doubt it, but it’s just…that scene in the skeleton hotel in particular…I know it’s called acting but…some acting.

Eros meets Thanatos in Meet Joe Black (1998). Say what you want about this movie (like: editors are not only authors’ but movie makers’ best friends as well) but I will say this: Who knew Death could be so sweet and sensuous? *Sigh*

No fan of Pitt, though. Brangelina who? I mean, how gorgeous were Salma Hayek and Antonio Banderas in Desperado (1995)?! Those love by candlelight moments, oh my my…

Speaking of which… There ain’t a man in this world who could tempt me to cheat on my husband. No, not even awe-inspiring Antonio. It would probably take a woman. Sweetest, sexiest Salma. The woman most likely to make me go bi. When she walked on camera in From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), my jaw hit the floor, 69ers. All I could do was join the mostly male audience in an utterly vulgar yet totally honest stare of admiration. Up until…OK, no spoilers.

Talking of girl crushes, quite a long while since I last saw Bound (1996) but there’s no forgetting this one. Oh no. Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon were something fierce together: intensely hot, oddly tender, and totally believable.

And now for something completely different…

Secretary (2002). I have mixed feelings about this movie. Like: Why James Spader? Damn that post-bath-splendor-in-the-grass-love-making scene is lovely. Has E.L. James watched this movie?

As for threesomes…you’re thinking Matt Dillon getting lucky twice over in Wild Things (1998), aren’t you? Well, I’m thinking the climactic scene of Y tu mamá también (2001). That is one raunchy road movie.

Dean going down on Cindy in Blue Valentine. I think Ryan Gosling is a good actor but, and please don’t hurt me, I don’t get the sex symbol status. Is it a boyish charm thing? I know, a matter of taste, right? This scene works for me, though.

And that, as they say, is a wrap.

Did I leave out your all-time favorite? Let us know in comments! Oh, you thought I meant something else besides mainstream movies? You’ll find a whole post on those at Dita’s Den. And some fringe favorites of mine in comments.

To all previous Oscar nominees: Thanks for the memories! To this year’s: Good luck!!

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Chasing the sun

First things first, thank you Layna for covering for me on the 23rd, feel better real soon Mia, congratulations Tari Lynn, and welcome new followers! It’s gonna take a moment to get to know you all. ;)

And hi, my name is Dita, and I’m not the silent partner, I’ve been on the road, traveling the west coast of Thailand. The sun is in short supply but great demand this time of year up here (Scandinavia), so we travel in search of it as often as we can. Plus the world may be cruel and crazy, but it’s also full of beauty and wonder and I grab every chance of seeing it, warts and all!

Spot the differences, or should I say similarities, if you can find any. Last week (sorry for the blotches, taken in water):

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This week:

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It’s been snowing ever since we returned so there’s no going out without seven layers of clothing and Hubby, who’s been mucho macho about removing everything by hand, is eyeing some heavy-duty snow blowers. No wonder, we’re jet-lagged and travel-worn and I’m having serious trouble getting my game on, but I find it a good tired, a happy tired where your head swims with all you’ve seen and heard, smelled, touched and tasted.

I don’t think a writer’s mind ever vacations. Without even noticing, you’re always on a hunting and gathering expedition, taking in the world with all your senses and tucking things away for later use. Some new/renewed sights and sensations gathered along the way:

Sand fine as flour, white as talc

A tangerine sun setting over azure waters

Stars by the thousands (Living in a city, you never really get to see them.)

Fish in every color you care to imagine (I found Nemo!)

Sea snakes and baby sharks

Sharing your toilet with ants, spiders and mosquitoes, and feeling you’re the intruder (Obviously their turf and trail until someone built a toilet on it.)

Locust concertos, as if conducted. Crescendo, furioso, diminuendo.

Curry. Red, yellow and green. Chili, lemongrass and kaffir lime. (Yummy and oh so hot.)

Beer (which I rarely drink). There’s not always water to be had but there’s always, always, beer. Seriously. (No, the kids didn’t have beer, they had colas in a pinch, but the recipe was so artificially syrupy I chose beer.)

Fruit, the way it’s supposed to taste (Papaya so ripe it smells like barf but tastes like sugary butter. Hmm-mmm.)

Jellyfish burns (Have managed to avoid them all my life. Well, they got me now.)

The silence of the sea, interrupted by fish nibbling on coral (You can totally hear it. You can! I have footage!! Recordings!!!)

Falling asleep to the crashing waves

A police boat in the middle of a field, tossed way inland by the tsunami of 2004

The smell of puke mixing with engine fumes, and seventy more minutes to go (Makes even the strongest stomach roil.)

The salty breeze. Balm to the skin, balm to the soul.

Holding on for dear life in the back of a pickup truck going 55 mph/90 kmh. Your ride.

Tropical thunderstorms. There’s rain and then there’s Rain.

One of my Hydroterra Shandals dying on me at a Really Bad Moment

Sweating up a mountainside. “Madam follow trail.” (Madam couldn’t see a trail, only a barely there path in the jungle. The view was totally worth the grime and climb.)

And a myriad other things waiting to be digested. I wish I could report I had some awesome holiday sex, but no such luck this time around, we traveled with kids in tow 24/7, and you bet it was frustrating having my hot man from the cold parade his half-naked self around me all day long. It was a tease of a two weeks, but we’re home now and uh oh look a the word count, I’m tiring you all out, aren’t I?

Travel heightens your capability for and sense of wonder because you’re removed from the common and comfortable and taken Elsewhere where they do things differently. The farther removed from your everyday existence the better, methinks. But more on that on my blog later today, if and when I get my thoughts in order. By the 23rd, I should have gotten my smut on. And you can take that any way you like because that’s what you’ll do anyway. ;)

Until then, have a sexcellent carnival weekend, 69ers!

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It’s déjà vu all over again*

Happy New Year, 69ers! *stunned silence* “Dude, that was like weeks ago.” Actually, only seven days ago, but it already feels like weeks, doesn’t it? What’s up with that? Bear with me and I’ll tell you.

Hands up all those who ended 2012 wondering where the year went. Or thinking how time flies and seems to be getting faster and faster and faster. I read a study (or it could have been a book) that explained the feeling and phenomenon. The author/s and title escape me (searching for it as we speak), but the explanation went something like this:

The more you do of the same old same old, the less spice and variety you have in your life, the faster time seems to go because events and experiences bleed into one. Moments replicate themselves, in daily life, during holidays, when you’re celebrating. Birthdays, Christmas, New Year’s… Reruns of reruns of reruns. Soon, you’re standing in the corner of Routine and Rut and it doesn’t really matter which you take, nothing new awaits you down the road.

I value customs and traditions. They give you a sense of history and continuity. Having kids, I certainly value routines. They mean order and predictability. Most of the time… But I recognize that sinking where-did-the-day-week-month-year-go feeling. And I don’t make resolutions at New Year’s but could all of you who recognize that feeling too do something for me or rather themselves this year, so it doesn’t get away?

Find something that disturbs the repetitiveness. If not daily then at least once a week, or at the very least once a month. Preferably something that doesn’t cost you an arm and a leg so you can keep doing it no matter what. Sky and Em had some great ideas, as did Jasmine. Something, anything, you know you’ll enjoy. By all means, seize the moment, live in the here and now, but I believe you should always have something to look forward to, as well. Right now, I’m looking forward to this sort of scenery.

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You did spot a beach, somewhere in the background? Routines can eat monkey wrench, two weeks from now, I’ll be on an adventure. The lovely Layna has promised to cover for me on the 23rd, so be sure to stop by! And have you told anyone who’ll listen about the awesome giveaway we’re doing? We ended the year in a giving spirit and we’re starting the year with more of the same, so how’s that for a routine? I say it pays to visit regularly, you never know what we’re up to!

Now go make mischief! Go mess with monotony!! Go make January a most sexcellent month. Muah.

(*Yogi Berra)

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We have a winner!

Season’s greetings from the top of the world! Scandinavians start earnest celebrations on Christmas Eve (this is, after all, Santa’s very own subcontinent) so I’m knee-deep in holiday preparations as we speak. And hiding in plain sight from said duties chatting with you for a moment.

I want to thank my partners in smut for the good times we’ve shared this year. Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! I especially want to thank everyone who has stopped by the blog to read and comment, celebrate and commiserate. Don’t be strangers in 2013, you hear?!

I hope I’ve managed to entertain you. I hope that whatever is hurting you soon hurts you no more. I hope that those who are alone can still appreciate the break the holidays bring. I hope that wherever you are, your holiday spirit runs high. I hope that in the spirit of that spirit, unless your goal is to one day be the wealthiest body in the boneyard, you give as good as you get.

Be good, be grateful, be kind. Have fun! All-in, balls out, guilt-free. As Erma Bombeck put it: “Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.” Enjoy!

Wishing you peace, joy, and peace of mind,

With love,

Dita

Whoa, hey lady, come back here, where’s that gift card? Got ya! I wish I could have given everyone something, so let’s do this again sometime. For now, boy am I glad I didn’t have to decide. I asked Santa’s sexy helper (remember him?) and he said…

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Susan, stand by for a message from yours truly madly deeply.

See you all again next year!

Smooches plus the warmest of hugs,

D.

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Lucky 13 XXX-mas giveaway!

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How goes it, 69ers? I hope 2012 has been good to you. It’s that time of the year again when people sum up the past months and plan for future ones. For 2013.

I’ve always thought of thirteen as a lucky number. I got engaged on a thirteenth and on this very weekend, Hubby and I embark on our thirteenth year as a married couple. Hell yes I expect 2013 to be a good year!

Of course no one really knows what the future holds. So. My simple yes-or-no question to all of you is: If someone knew what 2013 has in store for you, would you want to know, whatever it was? Let us know in comments to be entered in the Lucky 13 XXX-mas giveaway! (Or if you can’t decide, just toss your name in the mojo bag. Yes, Comments.)

I’m giving away an Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publishing gift card for the amount of, you guessed it, $13. That gift card, if you hit the Vault, buys you up to thirteen (13!) ebooks. Or would you prefer a 2013 Alpha Cavemen Calendar and a more recent release? You decide, I provide.

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Naughty or nice, the contest is open to every adult on the planet. You have until December 22 to take part so if you came in late, you probably aren’t. I’ll announce the winner in my next post on December 23. Good luck!!

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some celebrating to do. See you on the 23rd. Until then, 69ers! Muah.

(Calendar pic posted with kind permission from Ellora’s Cave. 2013 pic a free stock photo from 123RF.com.)

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O Come, All Ye Smutful

Frisky Friday, 69ers! With the holidays closing in, and since it is Black Friday, I thought we’d go XXX-mas shopping. I called the Holiday Hotline and this sexy elf volunteered to help us out.

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Hotline, indeed… His first suggestions were more nice than naughty, but I guess you have to have something you can actually put under the family tree. So, to help us get organized, he took me to Knock Knock. In addition to the holiday helpers, I found gifts for friends, lovers and book lovers.

A bookish site worth a visit if you’re in the US, UK or Australia is the Penguin Classics gifts and gear store. Sweet Danger tote, anyone?

When I asked for some sexy and sensual suggestions for friends and/or lovers or oneself, this is what he offered…

Magnetic Poetry Kits. You’ve seen these, right? But did you know there’s one for book lovers, love, and lovers alike? An erotic and sexual innuendo kit, a queer kit and one for improving on your pick-up artistry? Oh yes. He also mentioned a Yahtzee-like dice game that “Goes really well with good friends and cheap liquor.” O-kay.

On that thirsty note, how about a dirty martini? Just don’t drink on an empty stomach. To fill it up, how about some of those aphrodisiacs we talked about last time? The 10th anniversary edition of The New InterCourses: An Aphrodisiac Cookbook tastes as good as it looks.

Everybody well-fed and relaxed? How about some fun and games brought to you by Ball & Chain, everything from foreplay and romance through fetish and role-play to cards and dice games, a tongue-in-cheek way to spice up your life.

Time to get cleaned up so we can get down and dirty. Elf suggested a long shower or bath with the Body Spa Vibrating Bath Sponge (comes in soft foam and mesh). Quite an innocent-looking gift, but looks can be deceiving. Follow up with a massage from the Erotic Massage Deck – 50 Sensual Techniques to Get You in the Mood, but beware: a couple of these may put you in the mood but several will just put you to sleep!

Need oil to go with that? Fantasize about erotic waxing but afraid you’ll get burned? Try a massage candle. There’s a scent out there for every taste and when the heat is on, just blow it out and pour it on. Or use a lickable massage oil. Hmm-mmm.

What would the holidays be without toys? Very dull, said I, and Elf agreed. And flew me west to neighboring Norway. Turns out not only are Norwegians naughty, they have a great eye for comfort and versatility. Why not get him a Laid P.2 or P.3 Silicone Cock Ring? Where to get Laid. (Sorry. Couldn’t resist!) And for you, her, or a friend you want to make really, really happy, the sweetest thing, the B3 Onye Fleur Vibrator. It’s pretty, powerful, feminine, discreet and it’s waterproof.

Ready to get dressed for that family function? Try keeping a straight face while wearing a pair of OhMiBod Vibrating Panties with your partner in control. Yes, it’s a dare. Any takers? Accessorize with these objects of discreet intimate purposes and hidden functions from Incognito.

And gentlemen, or ladies… If you insist on buying sweet nothings for your partner, or if she expects you to but it always ends up bad, Elf suggested the following. Take a tour of shops like Chantelle, La Perla, Chamela, Agent Provocateur, Fleur of England, Le Mystère, Spoylt, marlies dekkers, Victoria’s Secret, Trudy Affair, Frederick’s of Hollywood, Cosabella, Elle Macpherson Intimates, insert your favorite destination here, decide which collection you like, get a gift card, and let her make the final choice. Win-win!

All dressed up and nowhere to go? Hop in bed then, tie your partner down and have your wicked way with them. No bed frame? No problem! With the Under The Bed Restraint System you don’t need one. Best of all, it’s comfortable, adjustable, easy, fast, and family-friendly. The kids may go through your drawers and closets, but I doubt they’ll look under the mattress. Couple it with a blindfold, and you’re all set. Sleep masks make excellent blinfolds, btw, since they’re designed to be light-weight, soft, flexible and breathable, and they usually come with a nose bridge so there’s no peeking!

Play hard, Elf said, but play safe. And riddled me this: What or who mixes plaid, charity and sex? Hint: It’s a quality gift that keeps on giving.

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“Good luck with that shopping!”

Why thank you, you sexy thing, and thanks for the holiday help! (And just so you know, 69ers, I’m not affiliated with any of these stores, only trying to lend a helping hand.)

Any must-haves you’d like to share, any hints or wishes you’d like to put out there? Let us know in comments. And have yourselves a sexcellent holiday season. Muah!

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Mighty Aphrodite

I’m a hedonist, meaning, I love sensual pleasures. Today, I thought we’d combine two of my favorite things, sex and food, basic elements without which no species thrives or survives, and talk aphrodisiacs. Just because they make the thriving and surviving that much more tantalizing and savory. Fun. I promise you’ll never look at French bread the same…

I submit to you that having sex and eating are closely related. They are! Physical acts that engage the senses, activities you’re meant to enjoy and can lead to a whole lot of sensual pleasure. Whether you’re eating or being eaten, you’re steeped in sensation. You taste and touch, you smell and watch. Sometimes it’s disappointing no matter how hard you try. Sometimes you don’t have much time and end up improvising, hurriedly. Some meals, or partners, you’ll never ever forget. Some you wish you would have had the sense to pass since you knew they’d be no good. And have you heard the saying, “If you want to know the way a person is in bed, watch them eat?” I’ll let you think about that while I rummage the kitchen pantry and history books a bit…

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…only to find that all those innocent looking foods and drinks you have in your kitchen and indulge in while eating out are steeped in eroticism. Oh yes. In days of yore, Europeans linked exotic with erotic. If it was brought in from the New World or via the eastern spice routes, if it was rare, expensive and hard to come by, it was an aphrodisiac. Ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, Celts all boasted substances meant to fuel desire. If it resembled the vulva, penis or testicles in shape: aphrodisiac. If it had any mythological or mystical associations: aphrodisiac. If it was associated with sex, if it was part of a fertility cult or ritual: aphrodisiac.

Most of those cults and rituals were wiped out by Christianity and soon forgotten. Many of the erotic associations were not. Take weddings. Rice symbolizes fertility. And throwing it? Male ejaculation, of course. You’re being sprinkled with a substitute for semen. The term honeymoon comes from the Anglo-Saxon tradition of newly-weds drinking something called honey wine for a month after marrying.

And I’m getting thirsty. How about a drink? I recommend an alcoholic beverage, but I also recommend quality over quantity. Small amounts stimulate but large ones only sedate and you don’t want to kill all that brewing passion, you want to stoke it up! “One cup for health, two cups for love, and three for sleep.” Bubblies stimulate the palate (and carbon dioxide makes sure the effects travel fast!), but good champagne doesn’t come cheap. And sometimes you’re just paying for the brand, not quality bubbles.

I recently visited Spain and had some delicious cavas. I highly recommend giving them a try if you don’t object to tipple. The method of production is as traditional as that of champagne, but the drink is less expensive and just as fine. Best of all, bubblies are versatile. They go with just about everything, so you can drink them from starters to dessert. In moderation.

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Now wines on the other hand…there’s one for every food, mood, occasion and taste. This much I know: price doesn’t correlate with quality, New World wines have the best quality-price ratio, and if you want to have red wine with your fish and white wine with your meat, knock yourself out (I have some suggestions if you need ‘em, as I’m sure do the sommeliers in any decent restaurant). But when the pairing is just right, it is a delight, a feast for your eyes, nose, tongue…and soon enough, all of you. Both of you. Or how many partners you happen to be juggling.

There comes the waiter with the bread. Innocent-looking, everyday bread. Smutty to its doughy core, 69ers! I did some digging and what did I discover? Baguettes are a direct descendant of penis-shaped loaves pre-Christians baked and ate as part of phallus worship. (In ancient Syracuse, they preferred vulva-shaped bakings.)

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Ready to order? All those herbs in you entrée salad, (I feel some Simon and Garfunkel coming my way), “…parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme…,” to say nothing of basil, tomatoes, and spinach, they’re all meant to rev you up.

Now. Greens, meat or seafood for the main course? Regardless of era or culture, seafood seems to be the aphrodisiac. Many love and fertility goddesses were sea-born. Seafood is nutritious. It is a sensual food. The taste, texture and aroma surpass most meats. Some require manual effort so you get to touch it, really feel it. The shapes and coloring can be suggestive. Some are exotic and expensive, so they certainly fit the bill. Bouillabaisse, anyone? Venus seduced Vulcan with it, so it’s powerful stuff!

Not a fan of seafood? Try game, or heavily spiced veggies. Make sure garlic or at the very least onions feature prominently along with peppers, the sweet and/0r the hot. A steak au poivre (pepper steak), perhaps? Or a vegetarian paella?

And for dessert? Yes, there’s always chocolate, once thought so decadent a delicacy, 17th century French monks couldn’t have any. Chocolate was all the rage in the court of the Sun King. If he offered and a lady accepted, sex was on the menu, as well. You shouldn’t overlook nuts, fruits and vanilla, though. A classic that takes care of all of the above: the Mont Blanc. You can make a fruity one, you can add or leave out the vanilla.

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Food is history. Food is culture. And food is fuel. Not every meal can be a culinary carnival. But when no meal is, that is just too bad. And kinda sad. It’s not as if we’re lacking in inspiration. Seventy-five cooking shows on every channel. As many diet and fitness fads in every magazine and gym. A lot of mixed messages flying around. Eat more! Eat better!! Enjoy!!! Eat less! Eat healthy!! Exercise!!!

This holiday season, if there’s one thing I wish, it’s more time and less guilt for all of us. Time to cook, sit down and enjoy, free of guilt. Love comes from leisure but I guess it’s up to us to take that time, make a conscious effort, decide to stop fussing and start enjoying. May Aphrodite be with you! It’s a sensual world if you want it to be.

Sexcellent weekend, everyone, and a fuss-free, fun!, holiday season. If you’re already dreading it, feel free to vent in comments.

(Photos purchased/free stock images from 123RF.com)

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | 11 Comments

The Rake in the Lake by Dita Parker

On a balmy night
By the blue moon’s light
I heard in my head
“Do get out of bed”

I was drawn through the door
To a room with no floor
Sleepy, awake
I stepped in a lake

When what did I hear
Somewhere quite near
On a monstrous splash
Huge waves did crash

Then, a chilling sound
Like a wounded hound
“Do you see me, fair lady?”
A man suddenly asked
His voice was silky
Eyes carefully masked

“You are quite the treasure
Would you care for some pleasure?
I mean you no harm”
I fell for his charm

I don’t know why
His clothes were bone-dry
He looked delicious
But also quite vicious

What I saw in his eyes
As he stared at my thighs
My fears, it shattered
Then, nothing else mattered

He circled my waist
Asked, “May I have a taste?”
Kneaded my hips
As he went for my lips

One hand found my breast
Oh, I gripped at his chest
My neck, he nipped
My head, it tipped

Slowly his mouth
Headed down south
Closed in on a nipple
“I need you like tipple”

He licked, he sucked
Switched sides, I ducked
“You enjoy my touch?”
“I do, oh so much”

I could not understand
The strength of my yearning
All I knew was him
All I knew I was burning

“Please, oh please
I can’t stand it
Don’t tease”

He circled my clit
With one broad finger
I cried out for more
He did not linger

On a smooth glide
He thrust inside
Found my cream
“You feel like a dream”
“You, sir, you feel quite thick”
“And you, sweet lady, are terribly slick”

With the weight of his stare
He kept me right there
Picked up pace
As he stared at my face
Watched me soar
Soar like never before

“Come,” he whispered
“For your release
Will bring us both
Unspeakable peace”

“Come, fair lady
Draw your last breath
Come, sweet lady
Join me in death”

My body did spasm
With impending orgasm
Then what he said slowly sunk in
On a scream I shrunk back and started to swim

Behind me a splash and a heart-wrenching roar
As I found firm footing and scrambled ashore
I turned to look and saw he was gone
The light of the moon had surrendered to dawn

I know not how or with what powers
Ten minutes with him had turned into hours
After all these years I can’t help but wonder
What spell he cast and how I fell under

I feel for him
All alone in that lake
Shed a tear within
For my dead sexy rake

Rake in the Lake

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , | 4 Comments

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