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117 Miles of Inspiration

We just got back from walking the Two Moors Way, also known as the Devon Coast to Coast — Nine days of walking across the whole of Devon. We did it from Lynmouth in the north to Wembury in the South. It was 117 miles of moorland, farmland, red deer, ponies, prehistoric ruins, bluebell woods, wild garlic pathways and much more than I could ever write about in one blog entry. We were usually walking by nine-thirty in the morning and in bed by nine-thirty at night. Somehwere in the midst of blisters and aches and lovely views and gorgeous wildflowers, we developed a routine, and by the beginning of the fourth day, that routine opened into space for thinking. For me, space for thinking always means it’s time to plan and scheme a new story, and certainly the inspiration was there. Now that The Initiation of Ms Holly is off to my editor, I’m constantly thinking about what comes next. With my days full of the enormous emptiness of the moors, and nothing to do but put one foot in front of the other mile after mile, whole scenes played out in my head. Charactors I’d been toying with revealed themselves more clearly, almost like they had dropped in for the day’s walk, and nebulous ideas became more concrete. All that without ever setting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard.
I’ve always walked my stories. Whenever I reach a road block, I go for a walk, whenever I’m not sure what happens next, I go for a walk. I’ve just never had nine whole days to walk a story before. I’d like to say that I now have the next novel all planned out in detail, but that’s not what happened. I walked across open spaces, huge open spaces, always wondering what I was missing, what I might be able to see if I just looked a little harder. I’m not sure how so much emptiness can feel so full, but it does. There’s a lot out there, and even now that I’m back home, I’m still seeing what’s out there. I think it’s a good metaphor for what happens when I write.
I’ve come home to my own little enclosed space to discover that my story, Accidental Hitchhiker, is now available on the Xcite eBooks anthology, Between the Sheets. Also, my story, Muscle Bound, will be available in October in the Cleis Press anthology, Smooth: Erotic Stories for Women. A very nice homecoming, I think!

 

Another good eRead!

On a road trip across America, Liz Martin’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, and the ride a Good Samaritan lorry driver offers her is not exactly the one she expected. Don’t miss my story, ACCIDENTAL HITCHHIKER, now available in Xcite eBooks anthology, Cocktales, Between The Sheets

 

Tunnel Vision

‘Did you take out the recyclables?’ my husband asks.

‘They’re in the refrigerator,’ I reply.

‘Are you hungry?’

I mumble something incoherent from behind the monitor.

I pour plain hot water from the mocha maker because I forgot to put in the coffee. Never mind. I slap a teabag in the cup of hot water and go back to the computer.

Spiders have taken residence in a number of nooks and crannies. They know the odds that dusting will happen in the near future are slim, and the safety of their homes is pretty much guaranteed.

My list of unanswered emails is growing longer every day and I haven’t done a blog post in two and a half weeks. So what’s the problem?

Tunnel Vision. Yep, it’s that time again. Everyone who knows me knows it happens periodically. I go underground. It’s like I’ve temporarily left the planet, and for all practical purposes, I have. I’ve got tunnel vision, and whenever that happens, I’m sucked mercilessly into another dimension, the dimension of the story. The thing about the dimension of the story is that it’s a whole lot easier for me to go there than it is for me to come back. Fortunately for the recyclables, though not for the spiders, short stories involve fairly brief stints in the land of Tunnel Vision. Five thousand words and I’m back home in time for a reality check.

But, I’m in the world of the novel now, and whenever I go there, it’s hard to say when I’ll get back home again. Add to that the fact that the novel is full of love, sex, intrigue, and people I’d like to be, and I’m very likely to linger as long as possible. In fact, I bet if you could go someplace similar right now, you would, wouldn’t you?

Come on, be honest! Everyone who’s ever read a good book gets the chance to follow the writer into that great world of Tunnel Vision. We all go there willingly and happily while the spiders take up residence and the recycling accumulates. We’re disappointed when it’s not quite the world we’d hoped for. We’re equally disappointed when it’s more than we could have imagined. When that happens, we don’t want to leave. We want to stay with those characters we’ve grown so fond of and take up residence in that place that now feels like home. We’ve grown used to the excitement, the adventure, the sex, the love, the intrigue, and we’ve especially grown used to the opportunity to, for a little while, be someone else.

The land of Tunnel Vision is also the land of multiple personalities. In my novel, I get to be ALL of the characters. They all whisper in my ear and tell me their sordid secrets and their darkest fantasies. Then I, like an evil gossip columnist, splash their inner workings all over the written page for the world to see. Bwa ha ha ha ha! I get to do that because I’m the most powerful person in their world. In fact, in their world, I’m god. K D giveth and K D taketh away!

So, I’ve come back from the world of Tunnel Vision just long enough to grab a sandwich, write a blog post and ignore the spiders. Consider this a postcard from the world of The Mount and Rita Holly’s initiation. It’s my way of saying ‘having a great time, wish you were here.’ I promise a detailed account this fall in the form of my novel, The Initiation of Ms Holly. But in the meantime, you’ll just have to settle for a blog post.

 

BWE 2010 is Sexy!

Sex SF has included Best Women’s Erotica 2010 on its ten sexy books of 2009 list.

 

Granny Knickers and White Chocolate Willies

With guest arriving for lunch in less than two hours, me still in sweats and the house still in need of a good hoovering, I’m hard at work researching a story. I’m browsing the cotton granny knickers in the Sainsbury clothing department. As I try to decide whether white knickers will be best or if tiny pink flowers might be a nice touch, my brain is contemplating the sexiness of large cotton underpants. I decide on plain white and hurry to meet my husband near the checkout, where he glances impatiently at his watch.

The hoovering gets done, and I manage a shower and slap on some make-up. It’s a lovely lunch with good conversation and good friends. It’s great catching up and reminiscing. But as we talk about recipes and walking in Snowdonia, in the back of my mind I consider how loose granny panties would have to fit before one could tie the crotch in a knot.

I serve up pudding wondering how cotton knickers taste dripped in caramel sauce, or how one would feel if one received a pair under the Christmas tree, all wrapped up in gold paper, with a sexy note from a lover. Over coffee, I think about what a spanking might feel like through white cotton knickers, and as we say good-bye at the door, the story begins to form in my head.

Now the house is quiet, and I sit at the computer with a cup of tea, sucking on white chocolate willies – a gift from a friend, who somehow just intuited I would be the type to enjoy rude chocolate. I know I’m surrounded by lots of things that aren’t sexy, but as I think about granny knickers and the spark of a story I wonder just how many things, everyday things that I have yet to contemplate are sexy, or at least could be with a little imagination and enough rude chocolate.

 
© 2017 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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