Rawiya Talks Sugar Daddies with a Twist

Rawiya is here to talk about the story behind the story of her hot new M/M short, Sugar Daddy, and give us a steamy excerpt of this intriguing story. Welcome, Rawiya!

Is it wrong to have someone to love AND take care of you?

Hi readers! Thanks very much to KD Grace for having me here today. My topic involves a controversial subject of sorts.

A “Sugar Daddy” – Slang term. A man that provides for his partner financially in exchange for sex.

Is it wrong to want one of those? In a lot of people’s minds, it is. When you exchange your affection so the rich man can take care of you. My friends joke about it all the time, wanting a man that provides for them, keeping their bank accounts full at all times so they can do what they want.

We always see this in stories and real life; women who are with an old man who may be grandpa material. The most unbelievable part is these ladies claim to love that person when all the outsiders say, “oh she only wants his money.” But, here’s a twist, what if that person really DOES want love, affection and money from that person.

All single people crave the love of someone that’s financially secure, not meaning a billionaire but just able to provide for them and a potential family. Yet, this isn’t being a “gold digger” which is the term of the seeker of a “sugar daddy” this is just desiring someone that is gainfully employed and can bring home the bacon. Nothing wrong with that.

So the devil’s advocate in me wants to ask the question. What’s wrong with wanting the love of a millionaire? It’s almost the same thing. The morality issue is do you love them for ONLY their money. If the answer is no, then you are no gold digger and he isn’t your sugar daddy but that is what you and him will be termed so get ready.

I take that a step further in my newest short in the Who’s Your Daddy anthology out from STARbooks press. Sugar Daddy is an m/m interracial with laughs and a little bit of hot sex.

A longer version of the story is in the works.

The Who’s Your Daddy Anthology featuring Rawiya’s first M/M tale, “Sugar Daddy.”

Blurb: A short story of a young man, Matthew Davidson, who’s seeking the love of an older black man. When he goes to an internet dating site, he finds the man he’s looking for but the ad calls for a black or Hispanic male. Interested, Matthew puts up the picture of his best friend, Devon Peartley who is Black. Now though, his chat buddy would like to meet him in person.

PG Excerpt – “Goddamit Matthew, I wish you would get your own man and stop looking at mine,” Devon said when we left multimedia class. My good friend Devon Peartley was dating the resident hot teacher, Professor Edgar Vincent. All the girls were crazy about him; it’s too bad they didn’t know he had a desire for ass of the male variety instead of the female.

Rolling my eyes, I shrugged, “Sorry, it’s hard not to gawk at him; he’s really good looking. It’s too bad he saw you first before me.”

Devon put his hand on my chest, lightly shoving me, “What the hell is that supposed to mean? It doesn’t matter anyway; he ain’t into white boys anyhow…”

“His loss,” I replied as we walked to our lockers that were side by side.

Devon chuckled, and then muttered, “Bitch…”

Smiling, I retorted, “You love me though…”

“Yep,” he winked, turning the combo lock.

This conversation was a normality between me, Matthew Davidson and my good friend, Devon Peartley. We’d known each other since grade school and were now attending the Chelsea College of Art and Design in the midst of our second year of the Graphic Design Communication course; both of us inspiring art directors, that desired to work in either television or movies.  We had been close seemingly forever, like brothers. We’d only screwed around once after being drunk at a party after graduating from middle school. The reason why? When you become that insanely tight with someone, where you know every stinking thing about one another, you really don’t want to complicate things by having sex. Moreover, Devon wasn’t really, attracted to white men; he preferred those of his own kind or Hispanic. I liked that as well, but of the older variety.

So, even though I had given Professor Vincent more than a nod, I really wasn’t all that interested; truthfully, I only did it to piss off Devon.

“Devon, I want a man. I’m tired of being alone.” I pouted, leaning against the door.

“So get one, and keep away from Doc Vincent.” He closed the door, glaring at me.

“I don’t want your Professor, Devon. You know I’m into older black men.” I slid my Blackberry out of my pocket, looking at the screen.

“Yeah, and my doc is an older bloke…”

“Uh huh, but not old enough for me…”

Devon’s eyes widened, “What? You mean you’re looking for an elder, a senior citizen…”

“Fuck you, you tosser, hell no; I’m searching for,” I paused glancing upwards, moving my hands. “A man that’s established, in his late forties, early fifties, with intelligence, strength…”

“A libido?”

Rolling my eyes, “Yes, most definitely. Someone that’ll take care of me, stimulate my mind and my groin, you know?”

Devon sighed, “Uh huh. A sugar daddy…”

“Yes, but a brown sugar daddy…really dark chocolate, sweet to the core, but rugged, rough.”

 

On Amazon Kindle Now. http://www.amazon.com/Whos-Your-Daddy-ebook/dp/B0055LH3MC/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2

 

Links

Sharita L aka Michael M/Rawiya/BLMorticia

The Literary Triadhttp://www.thelitriad.com/#!

Michael Mandrakehttp://tabooindeed.blogspot.com

Rawiyahttp://rawiyaserotica.blogspot.com

Twitter – http://twitter.com/#!/rawiyamikembl

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorSharitaLira

Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3542690

Its Raining Men Bloghttp://rainingmenamen.blogspot.com

Rachel Kramer Bussel Showcases Smut for All Occasions At Sh! Hoxton

I pile out of the over-heated tube at Old Street Station with my rucksack strapped to my back and my trusty google print-out of the directions to the Thistle City Barbican Hotel, the place I was lucky enough to find on lastminute.com just before desperation set in when every place else was full. The hotel is only the intermediate stop to my true destination, Sh! Women’s Emporium, Hoxton and the smut-reading highlight of the summer.

Yep, another fabulous reading! I’ve been looking forward to this one for ages. Aside from the obvious, that the reading is at Sh!, and I never miss a chance to visit Sh! there are several other reasons why this reading is special. Rachel Kramer Bussel is going to be at this reading, and she’s bringing cupcakes and reading smut! Even better than cupcakes, I get to read with her! Not only do I get to read with her, but I also get to read with some of my heros in the erotica firmament – Kay Jaybee, Jacqueline Applebee, Janine Ashbless, Justine Elyot, and Carmel Lockyer. So you can understand why I’m excited.

Like a woman with a mission, I manage to find the hotel without even one false turn, and I don’t even let the very large, rather disgruntled hen party in queue to check in ahead of me dampen my sweaty spirits. Once I’ve change, freshened up, and put on a bit of slap, I meet up with Kay Jaybee, who is in the same hotel, and we head off to say hi at Sh!, then to the Bluu Bar, which has become the meet-up place of choice for smutters before a read. Kay and I barely get settled in before Jacqueline Applebee arrives smiling and glowing from marching with Pride, earlier in the day. She’s traded in her Doc Martins for cool sandals and a summer dress, and that little twist of a smile she offers tells us we’re in for a treat tonight – nothing less than we would expect.

We’ve just commandeered a very large booth when we’re joined by the Lovely Lexie Bay, and the charming Mr. Bay, followed immediately by the fabulous Victoria Blisse down from Manchester, and this time she doesn’t have to take the last coach home! We’ve all just settled in when we’re joined by a yummy woman in black, who introduces herself as Justine Elyot, whose outrageously hot writing as well as online wit and charm we’re all familiar with, but until tonight we’ve never been able to put a face to a name. Tonight we even get to meet Mr Elyot.

I’m in smutter heaven chatting and laughing, talking writing and sex surrounded by so many great writers. And just when I think the company can’t get any better, a lovely redhead, dressed in green, and looking a bit like a wood nymph, stops at our table. ‘Excuse me,’ she says, ‘but you wouldn’t happen to be writers would you? I’m Janine Ashbless.’ And I’m over the moon!

Though I’m the odd one out with my American accent, we pretty much have England covered, with representatives from Devon, Doset, London, Yorkshire, Manchester, and Brighton, then there’s me representing Surrey by way of Oregon and Texas. Such an international world, the world of erotica!

At last we head over to Sh! where Renee greets us with a glass of fizz and Jo, looking angelic in white is busy putting out cupcakes. Downstairs Sh! is a hot pink Smutter’s Paradise, a place many of us have fond memories of previous readings on previous festive evenings. And for those who have never had the pleasure of a Sh! reading before, we know what a treat they’re in for. The exquisitely wicked Lucy Felthouse is not only there ahead of us, but she’s let her hair down for the occasion. She’s in the company of smutter extraordinaire, Rebecca Bond and the delicious Parv Roopray, who can always be relied upon for fab photos of the fun. They’re chatting with the one and only Ruby Jones, living up to her name in a hot red frock.

While Parv snaps photos with tenacious focus the rest of us sip fizz and eat cupcakes, catch up on the latest and wait for Rachel. I’m happy that Rebecca and Parv are both Smart Phone Divas, especially tonight since Raymond couldn’t be there, and I’m certain these two lovelies have already sent a quick photo or two off to Facebook for him to see from Louisiana.

While I’m slipping into my ‘make love to me naughtily’ shoes – made for reading, not walking, I meet the final author of the panoply, the stunning Carmel Lockyer, and the sly, knowing look on her face already tells me that she has a very hot read to share with us.

There’s a stirring in the crowd as a half a dozen people straight from Pride with face paint and sparkles join in the party, and the feeling is electric, as we wait. Suraya  Sidhu Singh, editor of the terrific magazine, Filament, is among the crowd, as is fantastic erotica writer and my very good friend, Scarlett French. And just when it’s beginning to feel like if one more person crowds into the luscious Sh! pinkness, the place will burst at the seams in a colourful explosion of collars and whips and knickers and lube, and naughty books, suddenly, there she is, Rachel Kramer Bussel! And wow, she is a fabulous mix of sparkle-goddess and little girl excitement, in a totally approachable package that instantly puts us all at ease, and makes us feel like SHE is actually there especially to meet US!

After Renee makes introductions, Rachel opens with an edgy story called ‘Belted,’ from her anthology, Orgasmic. It’s a story that’s hot and squirmy in an owchie sort of way.

I get to read second, following belts with mirrors and weight rooms and a little girl on girl fun from the Smooth anthology and my story, ‘Muscle Bound.’ From the Gotta Have It anthology, Jacqueline Applebee delights us with ‘Not a Bang, but a Whisper,’ a threesome story that has an outrageously yummy twist. Kay Jaybee regails us with ‘The Advantage of Working From Home,’ and Carmel Lockyer entertains us with the hottest fitting for a bridesmaid dress ever in ‘Crushed Satin Organza.’ She reads it while standing up because she says that’s how she wrote it. Both Kay and Carmel’s stories are also from the Gotta Have It anthology.

After a break for more fizz and cupcakes and mingling among smutters and audience and whips and lingerie, we get to be the first group ever to hear the phenomenal Justine Elyot read from her hot story, ‘The London O’ in Rachel’s Surrender anthology. I certainly hope it won’t be the last time we hear her read, because her delicious story about vibrating, remote control knickers had us all squirming in our seats.

Then Janine Ashbless took us for a little historic bondage romp with a hotter than hot coming-of-age twist in ‘The Ingénue’ from Best Bondage Erotica 2011. Oh my! And finally Rachel closed with another Gotta Have It offering by Heather Linn, called ‘Seven-letter Word.’

After the reading was done, Rachel opened up the floor for questions. One question asked was what Rachel found inspiring, to which she answered that she was inspired by ordinary things. I could see all the erotica writers nodding in agreement. What makes a good erotic story is finding the erotic in the ordinary because that is the place where it’s the most unexpected, which makes it the place where it’s the hottest.

Though Rachel was unable to join us, the party continued at Pizza Express at the table which has, by default become the smutter’s table over the months of reading and attending readings at Sh! I’ve never been too proud to elbow my way in at a seat closet to the middle of the table where I can talk with as many of the group as possible, and there were ten of us. The talk was all on the topics that never get old, the topics we keep coming back to over and over again: writing, sex, creativity, the process that consumes us and makes our lives, as erotica writers, such an interesting dance.

For the most part, we write in delicious isolation, creating a space to work in the midst of real life that takes up the lion share of our time. Though we’re now all connected to each other via the magic of technology, it’s the pleasure of meeting, in the flesh, other people who are also writing stories about connecting on the most basic, most human level that adds to the party atmosphere. That flesh and blood contact makes us feel connected in ways technology just can’t manage, makes us realize that though we may work in sweet isolation, we’re a part of something much bigger, something much more powerful.  And for the few hours we’re together we bask in the energy of it all.

When the night’s over and we return to our real lives, when we seek out our little bits of isolation and the stories that have to be written, we take some of that energy with us and translate it into hot, steamy, vibrant, sometimes dark and gritty stories. But at least for a few hours, we understand that we’re a part of a collective, and it’s an amazing vibrant creative hothouse of a collective that makes our isolation all the more delicious.

 

Sizzling Summer Reads Heat Up The Romance Review, and Holly Will Be There

Summer’s the time for reading hot stuff on a hot beach, or even sneaking a steamy peek between the pages on your lunch break or over a cuppa. And July is the time for Sizzling Summer Reads at The Romance Reviews. Sizzling Summer Reads is a whole month of fun and games and contests and chances to chat with your favourite smutters, including yours truly. Sizzling Summer Reads is also a whole month of excerpts and blurbs and recommendations of some of the very steamiest summer reads you can get your hot little hands on.

On July 25th, I’ll be making myself comfy in The Romance Reviews erotic lounge http://erotic.theromancereviews.com/thelounge.php to chat about all things hot and steamy with anyone who wants to stop by. And believe me, if you don’t stop by, you’ll be missing half the sizzle. I’ll be talking about The Initiation of Ms Holly, and The Pet Shop, and maybe even a little bit about Lakeland Heatwave. And since you’re familiar with my blog, you can bet we’ll be talking about animal lust and sexy inspiration and erotica as safe sex, and all things hot and humid.

There’s be prizes, there’ll be fun, there’ll be Q&A, there’ll be fab conversation, and a chance for you to get the skinny on the very hottest, most sizzling reads for your summer hols or just to keep the home fires stoked. Sizzling Summer Reads is happening at The Romance Reviews all through July. Stop by any time, but I’ll be in the lounge with the kettle hot and the bikkies ready on July 25 starting at 8:00 am est. That’s just in time for lunch in the UK, so how about a really hot lunch that day?

The Story Behind the Story of ‘To Touch The Knight’ by Lindsay Townsend

 

I’m very happy to have Lindsay Townsend at Hopeful Romantic to share a little of the truly fascinating story behind the story of her exciting novel, To Touch The Knight. Welcome, Lindsay! Do Tell!

Thank you so much, KD, for having me as a guest on your blog today. I’m chatting a bit about my forthcoming romance, ‘To Touch The Knight’, which is due out in July – not long now! KD asked me to cover the story behind the story of ‘To Touch The Knight’, which I’m delighted to do.

In my novel, the heroine Edith presents herself as a strange princess with her own seductive costumes, language and customs. One of my inspirations for this particular desperate deception was a real-life fake from the eighteenth century, the Princess Caraboo.

This ‘princess’ was a young woman who appeared in a Gloucestershire village in 1817, dressed in unusual clothes and speaking a strange language. Upon investigation by the local magistrate, it was discovered she called herself Caraboo and later a sailor said he knew her language and translated her story. Caraboo claimed to be a princess from an island in the Indian ocean, who had escaped after being captured by pirates.

The magistrate, Stephen Worrall, and his wife, took in Princess Caraboo. She lived with them for several weeks, famous and fêted by the local community.

In reality Princess Caraboo turned out to be Mary Baker, the daughter of an English cobbler. When the hoax was revealed due to her picture in the ‘Bristol Journal’ being recognized, the Worralls arranged for Mary to leave for Philadelphia.

Mary did go to America but returned later to England and died there. It was the story of her unusual deception that inspired a 1994 film, ‘Princess Caraboo’ and partly inspired my own novel, ‘To Touch The Knight’.

Taking the story of Princess Cariboo as a starting point, I wondered how it would be if a woman felt compelled by circumstances to undertake a similar deception, in the Middle Ages and with far higher life-and-death stakes, and so Edith was born.

My hero Ranulf  also has his own inner demons to defeat through the story. He is a fighter who must come to terms with his grief at the death of his wife and also a mystery surrounding her death. When Edith and Ranulf come together, they are both in different ways lost souls who find themselves through each other. It’s set against a period of massive trauma and change, too – just after the Black Death of 1348.

The so-called ‘Black Death’  was  known during the Middle Ages as either the plague or the pestilence. It’s now believed there were two main types of plague – bubonic (in which sufferers presented with huge pus-filled tumors or buboes) and pneumonic, spread in the air, which killed in less than three days. Both struck Europe from the far east in 1347, spreading swiftly from Italian ports through Europe and arriving in Britain in 1348. There was no known cure for any of the plagues and over a third of the population died. It was a terrifying time, made worse by the common belief that the disease was a judgment of God.

It was a dreadful time, but for the survivors it was also a chance to better themselves, particularly for peasants, for farm labor was in short supply. Edith decides to use the chance in another way, in order to save herself and her fellow villagers.

Thank you so much for having me today, KD!

I’d like to leave you, if I may, with the blurb and an excerpt from the first chapter of my novel, ‘To Touch the Knight’.

Here’s the blurb:

As a pestilence sweeps medieval England, a low-born woman has only the sharpness of her wits–and the courage of her heart…

Edith of Warren Hemlet plays a dangerous game. At the knights’ tourneys across the land, among the lords and ladies, she is a strange foreign princess. But in the privacy of her tent with the other survivors of her village, she is but a smith’s widow with a silver tongue. They are well-fed, but if discovered, the punishment is death. And one knight–fierce, arrogant, and perilously appealing–is becoming far too attentive…

Sir Ranulf of Fredenwyke cares little for tourneys: playing for ladies’ favors, when his own lady is dead; feasting, while commoners starve; “friendly” combat, when he has seen real war. Still, one lady captivates him–mysterious in her veils and silks, intoxicating with her exotic scents and bold glances. Yet something in her eyes reminds him of home…and draws him irresistibly to learn her secrets…

And here’s an excerpt from the first chapter, where Edith encounters Ranulf for the first time:

Edith was walking with the bundled sheets to the shallow, slow-moving stream when she realized that another was there before her. A man, big and muscled enough for a knight but not in armor, was sitting on the river-bank with his boots off, dangling his bare feet in the clear water.

Large, fine feet they were, too, and very clean. She stood in the shade of a young beech tree, shielded by its fresh leaves, and watched him; this nameless knight. He was new to her, and a pleasure to look upon, with a trim waist and good shoulders. He slowly kicked his legs in the water and she noticed the dark swirls of down on his calves, less lustrous and straighter than his fair-going-to-russet shaggy, badly-clipped hair. She wondered if the tiny dark fish were nibbling his ankles and laughed softly at the foolish idea. He was handsome, she conceded, if long, clean-shaven features as regular as a mason’s new carving of a king were to one’s taste – and they were to hers. On his feet, standing proudly on the daisy and speedwell studded grass, he would be tall as a castle keep, but wiry, with a rangy strength she admired when he skimmed a pebble across the river.

Here’s where you can find Lindsay:

Lindsay Townsend, historical romance. http://www.lindsaytownsend.net

or follow me at Twitter: @lindsayromantic

 

Thanks for stopping by, Lindsay!  It was lovely to have you. ‘To Touch The Knight’ sounds like a fabulous read — even more so now that we know the story behind the story.  I’ll now be waiting anxiously to July to get my copy!

Still Behaving Like Animals

People have always been nervous about the possibility of human nature being nothing more than animal nature all tarted up with a big brain. There’s lots of bristling at the idea that biology might explains us just as easily as it does our animal cousins.

We’ve been wondering for a long time just how thin the line is that separates our behavior from that of those animal cousins. And we can’t ask that question without wondering if civilization is maybe nothing more than a thin veneer we humans wear to protect ourselves from the most dangerous animals on the planet — each other.

Strangely enough in the past few weeks, it hasn’t been The Pet Shop or rutting Siberian beavers on Animal Planet that have me thinking about that thin line and what’s actually going on beneath the veneer. I confess to know next to nothing about neurobiology and even less about the financial world. I write nasty stories. But when penises and testosterone and male biology enter, detrimentally, into the stock markets and the banking industry, I’m suddenly very interested.

I first became aware of the market-testosterone connection while doing my usual scan of the news over breakfast.

In his article for the Observer, Testosterone and High Finance Do Not Mix: So Bring on the Women, Tim Adams gives a brief lesson in ‘neuroeconomics’ and writes about hearing Michael Lewis, author of the book, ‘The Big Short,’ Speak at the London School of Economics. Lewis was asked what single thing he would do to reform the markets and prevent such a catastrophe happening again, and he said: ‘I would take steps to have 50% of women in risk positions in banks.’

Several days later there was an article in the Guardian about the EU calling for women to make up one third of bank directors in an effort to prevent ‘group think,’ which is often blamed for exacerbating the industry crisis of 2008.  According to the article, gender diversity can lessen the problem of group-think, partly because there’s evidence that the leadership style of women is different, that they ‘attend more board meetings and have a positive impact on the collective intelligence of a group.’

When I shared the ‘testosterone’ links with my husband, he sent me a link to a New York Times article, in which Paul Krugman discusses a comment from a post by economist, Kevin O’Rourke, called, ‘What do markets want.’ This is the comment:

‘The markets want money for cocaine and prostitutes. I’m deadly serious.

‘Most people don’t realize that ‘the markets’ are in reality 22-27 year old business school graduates, furiously concocting chaotic trading strategies on excel sheets and reporting to bosses perhaps 5 years senior to them. In addition, they generally possess the mentality and probably intelligence of junior cycle secondary school students. Without knowledge of these basic facts, nothing about the markets makes any sense—and with knowledge, everything does.’

In the animal kingdom, younger males are sometimes ostracized from the community until one of them develops the strength and maturity to wrest the power from the alpha male. In the animal kingdom, the one who gets to breed is the winner. Even our seemingly companionable British robin will fight to the death with a usurping male if it will get him the chance to pass on his genes to the next generation.

I couldn’t help but wonder as I read about hormones and the market running amuck if our cultural queasiness with our animal nature has, once again, come back to bite us in the butt. The drive to procreate, and the sooner the better, may no longer be at the top of our civilized ‘to do list,’ but the biology for it is still there. What better place for young men, not yet mature enough to lead the pack, to play out that possessive, territorial ‘need to breed’ aggression than in the market? As I said, I’m definitely no expert, but it seems to me that  to turn the animal loose in an already testosterone-charged play-ground, complete with expensive cars and high-end sex, and expect him to behave in a ‘civilized’ manner is more than a little bit naïve.