Sneak Peek

Today I'm frantically trying to get submissions in so this is as much blogging as I'll do - but I wanted to say - check back tomorrow (or Thursday if today does not go well - I think I already screwed up one submission) for the start of the interview I did with Randy Lagana.

Found Fortune Cookie Poem

The will to do, the soul to dare

is yours for the taking, if you prepare

This little couplet was in a fortune cookie I opened today - my family had chinese take-out last night while I was out. I kinda liked this and it fits well with what I'm trying to do with my life right now. I'm off canada goose banding again tomorrow - have to be out of the house by about 6am. Ack!

Oh, my Randy Lagana interview will - hopefully - run on this Wed. and Thurs. I am really pushing to get a few antho submissions in. I'm so bad - always waiting till the last minute.

This is not your grandmother's cinnamon

Spicy Summer Sundays continues over at Gina Marie's blog, Aphrodite's Table, and has she set a spread for us!

Cinnamon is her spice and she's not serving up cinnamon toast, I can tell you that. Her story offering is cin-fully delicious as is her photo offerings (Octopus' garden anyone?) and there's a thought-provoking discussion topic too.

Wouldn't you like to be a trollop too?

So, my trollop temporary tattoo came about a week ago, but since they only last 1-3 days, and I wanted to wear it to an event Saturday evening (for personal reasons even though nobody would know) - I waited till Saturday morning to apply it - with the amused help of dear Mr. Erobintica, who then took a series of photos - this being the best (natural light). Yes, that's my ass.

Then I - at one time in my life painfully shy - sent it to Alison Tyler - who posted it on her Trollop with a Laptop blog - where other trollops have been baring themselves. I still can't believe I did this.

Time flies and the river runs on

not enough minutes in an hour

not enough hours in a day

not enough days in a week

not enough weeks in a month

more than half a year since I started this blog - just realized that

Just Because

- because it starts bugging me if I have the same post up for too many days

- because the sun came out this afternoon (though this picture wasn't taken today)

- because I've been sitting and finishing a quilt and thinking

Beginner's Ball #6 - Happily to Hell in a Handbasket

Welcome to Beginner's Ball #6! This series was started by writers Helia Brookes, Marina St. Clare and myself. We hope to address issues of interest to new eroticists and more experienced writers as well. This series travels blog to blog. Scarlett Greyson will be joining us soon!

Okay, I'm going to play devil's advocate for a moment. Bear with me.

Totally ignoring the whole futile erotica vs. porn debate - if pornography is such a horrible problem (7.5 million Google results for "problem of pornography") that is destroying marriages and the very fabric of civilization as we speak (stop rolling your eyes) - isn't writing "erotica" just contributing to said problem?

I ask this because it's something I'm pondering as I prepare to let more friends in on the "secret" that I am writing erotica/smut/pornography/whatever and blogging about it. What will I say if someone asks me this - or some variation?

Because I know I will come up against this - I know some of my friends - and family for that matter - decry the music and dress and general decline in decency - and up till now I've just quietly let their tirades roll off me all the while thinking "if only you knew…" (yes, I have some strange friends)

Erotic depictions (paintings, sculpture, photographs, dramatic arts, music and writing, have been around a very long time. (That wikipedia link, if you're new to it will keep you busy a long time - I had to tear myself away.) What I find amusing is the insistence by some (still!) that all the very old (read Paleolithic) depictions are touted as "fertility symbols" - and not just depictions of stuff that made those skin-clad hunter-gatherers horny. I'll save that rant for another time. Side note: So, I kept reading about erotic cave art, but so far have not been able to find any images online - they trying to protect us from something?

But back to the original thing I was getting at. What was I getting at?

It would be nice if I could claim to have always been so enlightened. But. There was a time in my life when I was horribly ashamed of my own attraction to "erotic depictions" - I was sure it was proof of some damage - And I was even ashamed of writing some of my own. Seeing images and reading words that turned me on tended to lead to self-loathing. Yup. Me. Erobintica. And the reasons why and how I got from there to here are for another time and place.

The point is - I got to here. I'm writing what I'm sure a lot of folks would consider vile pornography (and yeah, in their minds that would be redundant). And it's one of the best fucking things that I've ever done in my life (and I'm just getting started). I finally feel comfortable in my skin. I finally have a lot more self-confidence than I've ever had. I joke with my husband about "empowerment through porn." But I'm serious. I've found freedom by embracing this previously hidden part of my psyche.

Randy Lagana's Bound Freedom

This is a subject that can't be hardly touched on in a single blog post. But I was wondering what your thoughts on the matter are. What would you say to someone who accuses you of being "part of the problem"?

Well, golly gee whiz

I got mail today. The kind that shows up in my mailbox a lot these days - buttons - from Alison Tyler. It was this mighty mouse button. But this one wasn't for a flasher contest or a comment or any of a number of other reasons for buttons from our lady of the etsy.

And I was thinking - wtf? I couldn't remember any mighty mouse themed anything (and isn't that against her rules?) - so I was blown away when I read the paper that came with it. And I'm only copying it here because I think ALISON is so awesome and not because I want to toot my own horn or whatever (now, now, get your minds out of the toilet and into the gutter where they belong).

She, Ms. Tyler, wrote:

" Thank you so much for supporting your fellow writers, Robin! You are fantastic! I totally appreciate how generous you are with your time and talent!

XXX,

Alison"

Then I promptly broke into tears. I'm not sure what it is I do. I guess that maybe I do what I'd like other people to do - there's that old fucking golden rule again - and writing has been so important to me, to my sanity at times, that anything I can do to keep writing (like this blog) is a good thing. And I DO want to encourage other writers, because I know how easily we can convince ourselves that what we do (write) is meaningless. And I also know how powerful discouragement can be - active or passive and maybe the passive is more odious and effective. I've been lucky though, I've had some wonderful teacher/mentors who have managed to counteract the negative. And I guess the last thing on this earth I want to be is be a force for negative.

So, anyhow - this button she sent is big - and I'm gonna put it on my canvas writing bag - to remind me of .... hmmm .... don't know - I'm starting to tear up again.

And of course I go looking up mighty mouse stuff and found this - and laughed at the final imagery (rocket anyone?) along with "the situation well in hand" (hahaha - I've got such a dirty mind)

One Crazy Ass Week Coming Up

Today I made a list of things that MUST get done this week, along with the things that are happening to get in the way of getting those things that MUST get done done. And I went *I must be crazy*!!!!!! But, sometimes I thrive on weeks like this one coming up. So, we will see.

I've got blog stuff. A new Beginner's Ball where I will touch on the subject of "the evils of erotica" (insert manic laughter here). I'm going to be posting on two consecutive days an interview I did with Randy Lagana whose work has graced my blog since the first Beginner's Ball back in March. (Image above: Collection of Parts by Randy Lagana)

There's a mess of submissions that I have almost ready and I need to get those sent off on the little virtual paper airplane (wooosh) in time so I'm not kicking myself.

Then there's poetry work. Gotta work on bookings for our poetry series. And I've been asked to feature someplace in July and so I need to get my ass in gear so the chapbook I've been working on is ready then. And I've started another blog project. Plus I need to get some poems that are started on paper typed into my computer.

On top of all that, I intend on writing a piece or two about the quilt project that I took on the finishing of after my friend passed away. And it has to be done this week. The writing and the quilt.

And that's just the writing stuff!!! I won't bore you with the other shit that's happening - some of it fun (goose banding) some not (can you say "let's clean house?"). And it's supposed to rain most of the week. And I need to get out and walk more, even if it is raining. And and and.

Sommer's Cumin and going, plus a rant from me

Today the Spicy Summer Sundays blog tour continues at Smut Girl's blog. Sommer Marsden is serving up Busy Porn Day Cumin Chicken - which sounds damn good to me - I will be trying it. Though not today - today I'm making my man jambalaya - which tis also spicy. And hey - it's the first day of Summer!

So, it's Father's Day - and I had a hell of a time finding a card for Mr. Erobintica. I swear, maybe we should all get together and go into the indecent decent card business. First off, the THEY ARE ALL UGLY! Why the hell does a Father's Day card for one's husband have to be brown????? This year most were sappy with looooooooooong disgusting schmaltzy (and I'd give an example but I didn't even bother reading them) OR you had the "funny" cards which all involved cartoon animal couples. And I guess all dads have a thing for the TV remote, play golf, are the grillmaster, etc. ad nauseum. Oh, and I guess all they want to do on Father's Day is nap - in a hammock (granted, my husband wouldn't mind doing that if the damn sun would come out). Anyhow - it took me weeks to find a card and it was a card I'd already seen several times and rejected thinking I'd find something better, but I didn't.

Okay. Rant over. Head over to Sommer's and get a squirt of wine and some chicken and flaming corn. Which rhymes with porn. Hahaha.

Good Stuff

~It's stopped raining!

~I finished a story I want to sub last night.

~There's only three more days of school after today and then I won't have to get up at 6AM (I am not a morning person).

~I've got a writing group meeting tomorrow - been missing folks.

~There's some good stuff out in blogland - poetry at Sommer's and Craig's - plenty of pretty purple/violet/whatever at Alison's (ya must scroll through all the purple posts) - thoughtful posts & discussions at Donna's and Scarlett's - word talk at Janine's - and one hell of a fun quiz at P.S. Haven's (plugging your ass again Haven!).

~I'm putting together an interview that I did with Randy Lagana, whose artwork I've used in various posts. Hope to get it up this weekend.

~It's stopped raining!

~There's even a hint of sun!

~Mr. Erobintica gets home from business travels tomorrow afternoon!

~ I got buttons AND a Trollop temp tattoo in the mail!

That there picture is of one of Mr. Erobintica's famous sparkler bombs.

Rain rain go away

It is June isn't it? Today it's 56 degrees and the rain has not quit since I woke up. I'm finding it very hard to get motivated to do anything. It's too chilly, too dismal. My garden is not growing. It does not feel like it's almost officially summer. I'm wanting hot cocoa, not iced tea. I'm wearing a sweater.

If you are in the same boat - and needing a diversion - check out the fun quiz that badass P.S. Haven has posted today.

Guess I'm a Real Harlot Now

What a surprise this morning! Alison Tyler posted my story Into the Whirlpool on her new blog H is for Harlot.

This meme's for you

If there is one person or more on your friends list who makes your world a better place just because they exist and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the Internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.

This, that, and the other

It's been hard to sit down and type - I want to be out doing things - it was very nice this past weekend. Outside in the fresh air all day, working with my hands amongst other folks working with their hands (some using tools, some not), taking walks down a dirt road, sitting around the fire at night talking and laughing while a couple of flintknappers worked some porcelain from an old toilet tank (don't ask). Fun with Mr. E at night in the tent. Very laid back (well, not the fun, hehe). I did finish a story, though it's still on paper.

Problem is, writers have to somehow put words down and for most of us that involves sitting. I've been resisting it today. But if I don't start typing, I'll fall even more behind than I already am. So.

At Etsy

I have a lot of "irons in the fire" - which is fun to say considering Mr. E. was giving blacksmithing demonstrations this weekend. Just on the writing front - Got stories to finish and polish and get sent off in time. Stories to start (the ideas are rattling round my head making a lot of noise). I'm working on an interview (my firstest ever!) with Randy Lagana. There's a new Beginner's Ball in the works with a working title of "are we erotic writers contributing to the downfall of civilization?" I have a chapbook I'm working on (poetry stuff) and an essay (or two or three). And more. Oh, and blog stuff.

Over at the Trollop Salon today, Alison Tyler has an interview with Tiffanie of Metal Taboo, a very cool jewelry biz. In the comments I said I'd like to have one that says FUCK SHAME. I've felt a lot of shame in my life - and I'm fucking tired of it. It does absolutely nothing to make this world a better place. Recently - I don't remember where - I read something bemoaning that people don't seem to feel shame anymore. That shame is a good thing. I think they're confusing shame and guilt (not the same - that's why I linked the term). I'm pondering all this now - watch for a blog post if anything worth reading shows up.

I've also been pondering the subject of friendships. When I was a small kid in Philadelphia there were just the neighborhood kids and we just tended to run around together (back in the halcyon days when kids were allowed to wander a bit) - but I don't remember any special friends. Then my dad was transferred to California. I missed about a month of fourth grade during the move and it was well into October when I was "the new kid." But I was very shy and tended to hang back and just watch the other kids play. We moved a couple more times in the same year and it was like starting all over again. Then I'd make a friend and she'd move. Or a friend of several years (the 6th grade to 10th grade years) would turn into a willowy beauty and drop me (always somewhat plain) when the boys started coming around. That seemed to happen over and over. I didn't know what it was like to have a close close friend. Maybe because I was very afraid of letting anyone in.

Never was the outgoing type. Painfully shy. Bashful. Utter lack of self-confidence. Inhibited. Self-conscious. Wallflower. The list goes on. Luckily I did make some lasting friends as I got older - in college - or as a mom. There are a few people I've been friends with for a long time now. Hopefully they'll be lifelong friends. But there are plenty of friends that have dropped back or dropped away completely, some permanently.

One thing that always made friendship hard for me was I always felt that I had to be some certain way in order for the friendship to work. I couldn't/wouldn't be my true self. Part of that was I wasn't sure who my true self was. Or I did, and I was ashamed. Let me tell ya - it ain't fun hiding from your friends.

Last year I reconnected with an old friend, but in an open, honest way and it's been a life-changing experience. It helped me see that I no longer want to be only "part" friends - in other words, keep part of myself - an important part of myself - separate from the friendship. And I've had good close friendships falter when I've been moved past my fear to speak my honest mind. Talk about negative feedback.

So, as I've slowly made new friends, they get to see the whole me. And that has felt so good. But it's also been painful, because sometimes you lose a friend. And it's getting harder and harder to keep part of myself from old friends that never knew that side of me.

This necklace at etsy

I don't go running around screaming at the top of my lungs - I WRITE SMUT - but I refuse to be ashamed of it. I write a lot of other stuff too. And so I find myself contemplating sending letters (you know, real live with a stamp letters) telling old friends about what I'm doing and that if they don't think they can handle it, if they don't think they can be my friend - well then, better to know that now. It's a really scary idea. Don't know if I'm brave enough. Haha, which reminds me - someone landed on my blog by searching for "brave erotica robin" - I'm not sure what to make of that. I've never felt very brave, though I've survived a lot.

Not sure I've made any point here - it's been mostly rambling. For some reason I want to leave you with Joan Jett (yeah, been listening to her alot).

What's on my mind

Update: Our power was out for almost four hours today (Monday) and it messed up my whole schedule. New post coming tomorrow.

It's late and I'm too tired to write anything, but I thought I'd post a few videos that are pretty self-explanatory. More tomorrow. Oh, and I had a great weekend. More about that too. Tomorrow.

I put this on my car stereo this afternoon - makes me feel damn good to know that I'm the same age as Joan J. (actually a little older if months count) Love this video! Then some Bad Company (gotta love the hair and outfits). And finally a new one - Pink's "Bad Influence" with some cool costumes.

Spicy Summer Sundays with cilantro at Neve's

Ah, chips and salsa, fish tacos and beer are some of the delights over at Neve Black's as she does cilantro on her stop of the Spicey Summer Sundays blog tour. There's some great music and a movie clip. Hurry up before we eat all the chips!

Next week meet us at Sommer Marsden's.

Getting all cavewoman on ya

Hey, I'm just back briefly at home to make a cake for dessert - my potluck offering tonight. I'm out at a "primitive skills gathering" - stuff like fire-making, basketry, flint-knapping, etc. and bow making - and I have been working on making my own "self-bow" - when it's done I'll take a picture. I'm going around wearing this knife (that hubby made me for mother's day a couple of years ago) in it's sheath (that I made) around my neck. Sorry, no buckskin loinclothed men this year. :-(

Mr. E and I are camping out - last night was fun - tonight should be too (get me in a tent and I'm a fiend - see here).

I'll be back tomorrow with a proper promo - but in the meantime, tomorrow is Neve Black's turn at the Spicy Summer Sundays blog tour. She's cilantroing. (yeah spellcheck, I made that up).

A Proper Party for a Proper Trollop

Happy Birthday To You. Happy Birthday To You. Happy Birthday Ms. Tyler. Happy Birthday To You!

Here is some cake ...

and some well-chilled champagne for the birthday girl...

And of course, any proper trollop deserves a proper spanking - one for each year - correct?

and one to grow on!

So, dear Alison, our dirty den mother, our naughty nanny, our ... okay, I'll stop now. We fucking Y you!

Brooch and Card found at etsy, paddle here

No Can Do

Okay. I thought I was just gonna blow right though this and post a bunch of past flashers, but I can't seem to find all of them - where oh where did those little stories go? - so, I'm calling it quits for the night. Note to self: Organize your smut better on your computer.

This pin here at etsy.

One Sweet Flasher

Hey - I'm gonna try to catch up again with posting my entries to Alison Tyler's flasher contests. This one is from back in April. Got an "I [heart] Pie" button for this one I think. Hehe, I've lost track of contest themes and buttons. So many so many.

Silky Smooth Icing

She can’t help herself. Glancing around to make sure no one is looking, she reaches under her apron and gives her nipple a pinch. Presses her thighs together, aching for something to rub against.

The long glass case filled with elaborately decorated cakes separates her from them. Allows her to listen in while working. They come in twice a month to partake of the treats and sip coffee. To talk shop.

She’s been told they’re erotica authors. Eavesdrops on their conversations, littered with words that make her blush, make her sense the creaminess between her legs.

She works. Cake layers are prepared, laid out waiting. Two fillings. One is tart, thick lemon with flecks of zest. The other a blood-red raspberry, seeds strained out and sweetened just so.

She takes up her spatula, begins spreading the lemon first. The authors talk about sucking cock. She yearns to dip her finger in the filling, taste the sharp flavor, but doesn’t dare.

She spreads the raspberry filling, adds the last cake layer, presses down so the red oozes out gently. The authors talk. Bondage. Spankings. Sex toys. The usual.

As she prepares the glossy chocolate ganache that will cover the cake, she thinks of the baker in the back room, his apron dusty with flour, his hair held by a net. His aroma. Sweet, sweaty, earthy.

The authors will leave, she’ll pull the shades, lock the door, take off her apron. In the back, they’ll slice the cake, share it. Before.

Putting on a face

These two mask photos are by Randy Lagana. The bottom photo is by Self Timer of Mr. Erobintica & moi ala Halloween 2008 (the mask thing, get it?)

I am not on facebook. I have no intention of being on facebook. But I'm starting to feel a little bit like I did in 4th grade when, newly transplanted to the west coast from the east, I stood around the edges of the playground, lonely as hell and looking longingly at all the kids playing with their friends and feeling very much the outsider.

A few days ago I got an amusing email. It was from facebook, a reminder -

"Hi Robin, The following people recently invited you to be their friend on Facebook:"

Among those people were Susie Bright (whose blog I've followed since the very beginning) and Rachel Kramer Bussel. Both had okayed me as a "friend" back in February - I took Rachel's Erotica 101 class and met Susie at In The Flesh. Problem is, I'm not on facebook. And every time someone sends one of those "friend" things, I feel compelled to send an old-fashioned email explaining that I'm not snubbing them by not "friending" them, it's just that my face ain't in the book.

The same day (Sunday it was), there was a post on Greta Christina's blog saying she'd joined facebook. I remembered when Susie Bright joined facebook - she stopped posting to her blog as often, which made me sad. Granted, now her blog loads easier since there isn't a bajillion people looking at it. I enjoy reading Greta C.'s blog and hope she doesn't slowly disappear from it. Because I'm not joining facebook.

I have a lot of friends on facebook. One old friend uses a picture I took many many years ago as his facebook photo. Some love it. They can keep in touch with friends and old friends can easily find them (this could be a good thing or a bad thing, depends). Some only do it because they got talked into it by someone (spouse, friend, family member, colleague). Some hate it but do it anyway. And some, like me, don't do it at all. But many folks use it, often in exclusion to other means, of letting folks know what they're up to. As a result, they often expect everyone to know something - "well, I posted it on facebook" - assuming everyone is on facebook. But I have my reasons for not facebooking.

Why? Well, for one thing, two of my three children are on facebook. I actually heard about it when my then college freshman oldest told me about it when it was strictly a way to get to know other students at her college. Then it was a way to keep in touch with friends who'd gone to other colleges. It's grown from there of course. So, in my mind it is still a thing for college kids to do. It was built as such and I know folks work around those constraints, but I'm tired of trying to fit into boxes.

Also, I don't need ANOTHER thing to do. I'm having enough trouble keeping up with all the things I'm already doing (and enjoying). Also, there's the whole "real name" thing. I have my erotica "name" and my real name (which is my married name). Some folks get around that by being two-faced, which seems like a lot of work to me. I've already done that to some extent on my blog and I'm tired of it already.

Another thing - again - my kids are on facebook. And yeah, I know you can have all sorts of privacy things (they've already told me they'd never "friend" me) - but still.

So, I stand here at the edge of the chalk hopscotch outlines and 4-square squares, watching all those folks with their friends. Afraid to join in? Maybe that was it 6 months ago, but not now. I'm not afraid of someone finding out about my "other" life. In fact, the thought of folks being puzzled, amused, and maybe even shocked by the eclectic menagerie that makes up the group of people I call "friends" has a sort of twisted appeal to me. It's the reason why I want this button.

By not joining facebook, am I trying to hide? I don't think so.

Thunder and Words

Laying in bed this morning listening to pouring rain and window-rattling thunder (guess I'm not taking a walk this morning) - pondering the stories I have going and how I'll ever find the time to do all the things I want to do. I'd hoped to have the interview with Randy Lagana up this week, but unless he has ESP, it'll have to wait because I haven't gotten the questions to him (there is a reason why I could never be a reporter). I started a list of writing projects I want to complete at some point in the next few months and it was an awfully long list. I've set myself some deadlines for this month (both externally-imposed and self-imposed) - we'll see how I do. For now I'll drink my coffee and try to finish one story and start on another, and another...

That photo of the lilacs was taken last month during a rip-roaring thunderstorm over in NY.

Side note: Once again I was a blog slut this weekend. While I was busy handing out chili pepper vibes and making you all talk dirty, I got "inserted" over at Shanna Germain's Chapter 37 blog. 

On Fire - SpicySexySultry Songs, Stories, Sustenance and more

Welcome. So glad you could join us on this Spicy Summer Sunday. (I apologize to anyone who has trouble loading this - I went a bit happy with the embedding - also, I'm having a hell of a time with fonts - it must be because it's well after midnight). I've got lots of hot songs for you to watch, hot stories to go read, hot (and cold) food to salivate over, and plenty to discuss. Feel free to wander out into the garden to pick some strawberries to nibble on while feasting your eyes. And whenever you arrive, you're right on time!

And here is a not-blurred longer (9:15) video - fast forward to about 1:23 to get to the "good" part.

Grab a beverage - there's margaritas and sangria and plenty of Pacifico in the barrel of ice on the deck. Take a seat. Suddenly feeling a bit horny? Sorry, haha, couldn't resist! I was hoping to find tube socks printed with chili peppers to hand out to the guys, but had no luck. I did find these though! 

Oh, there's snacks set out - some of Trader Joe's Chili Spiced Dried Mango and ike & sam's kickin' cayenne kettlecorn. A Brooklyn friend turned me on to this highly addictive snack food which luckily I haven't seen in my local store (oh, they have other varieties, but not the spicy).

Today we're gonna get hot. With hot chili powder. Also sometimes spelled "chile" - I promise you I'm not going to go into a dissertation on the many varieties of chili peppers. If you want, you can go read about them here. Chili powder, a blend of spices, can be bought or mixed up in your kitchen. We (Mr. Erobintica & I) prefer the hot variety and our kids have grown up with that. Mild? Not around here. If you want to read an interesting piece - Sex and Chiles.

While the BBQ is heating up, how about some hot songs to get us in a summery mood. Here's some of my favorites, songs that get me hot - songs that I crank up when I go pseudo-topless (sunroof open and windows down). I'll embed a few, click on the links to view the others -

also, Sheryl Crow's Steve McQueen, vintage John Mellencamp with Hurts So Good, and of course ZZ Top's Gimme All Your Lovin'. And one more - Bruce Springsteen's I'm On Fire.

Ah, the food's just about ready. I love skewered foods, don't you? ;-)

Grilled Chili Chicken and Fruit Skewers

boneless chicken breasts, cut in 1 inch chunks
pineapple chunks
mango chunks
strawberries

grated rind of 2 limes
2 rounded tsp of hot chili powder
½ tsp sugar
½ tsp salt
tsp of ground Wrath

¼ cup olive oil
juice of the 2 limes
splash of triple sec


Mix together spice mixture. Mix olive oil mixture. Thread chicken chunks on skewers and fruit (alternating strawberries, mango and pineapple) on separate skewers. Brush all with the olive oil mixture. Heat BBQ. When ready, grill the skewers, turning the fruit carefully (may need to use 2 tongs since the fruit wants to slip off). Once skewers have been turned, sprinkle some of the spice mixture on them - more liberally on the chicken.
Carefully remove the fruit skewers to a plate once there are char marks and the strawberries are soft. Sprinkle with a little bit more spice mixture and leave to cool. Turn the chicken again and sprinkle the 2nd side with spices. Use all the spice mixture. When chicken is done, remove to a plate. Serve with a salad and warm, crusty bread. Instead of chicken you can try scallops or shrimp or even just veggies.

Now that I'm done cooking, I can join the conversation. Surprise surprise, this crowd is talking about erotica. Fancy that! ;-)  Always a juicy subject with us. I know we've talked about who we share our erotica with and last week Donna wondered how much we reveal or hide ourselves in our fiction, especially our sexuality. Pondering that discussion, I had a chicken or the egg question come into my head. As our writing evolves, do we find that our sexuality evolves? Writers are often counseled to "write what you know." But fiction writers often write what they don't know. Nobody really expects a murder mystery author to go out and off someone as "research."  But erotica is different. Yes, many of us like it because we can write about things that we'd never really do in real life. But I think most of us do explore subjects that we're drawn to (whether in actuality or fantasy). I've found that over the years (and yes, I've been writing erotica for many years, just not sharing it with anyone until recently), my writing has mirrored to some extent what my ... interests have been/are/will be. That comes as no surprise really. So, what comes first? The interest or the words?

Hope that's not too personal of a question. Come on, let's not be shy. ;-)

Okay before I get too wordy here, let's bring on the dessert and let the meltingly spicy richness of these truffles contrast nicely with the frozen smoothness of coconut and strawberry. Oh, and please, try some ice wine too. It was a lovely June evening a few years back when I was introduced to ice wine - luckily in blogland, price is no obstacle. It will help loosen our tongues.

Spicy Chocolate Chili Truffles

8 oz. chopped chocolate - preferably 62% cacao or higher
½ cup heavy cream
½ tsp red chili flakes
½ tsp chili powder (chilpotle or whatever your favorite is)
1 TBLS softened butter
cocoa powder for dusting mixed with ground Wrath

Heat cream to simmer. Remove from heat, add chili flakes and chili powder. Cover and steep for 15-20 minutes. Reheat briefly to simmer and pour through a strainer over chopped chocolate. Let sit a few minutes, then stir gently. Add softened butter and stir. Stir till cooled. Chill till firm, several hours. Shape cherry-sized balls and roll in cocoa mixture. Serve.

Coconut strawberry "ice cream"

One 14 oz. can coconut milk
1 TBLS agave syrup
20 drops liquid stevia
1 cup or so strawberries, cut in halves or quarters and smashed lightly with fork

Pour coconut milk into bowl and stir with whisk to incorporate any congealed coconut oil. Add agave syrup and stevia and stir with whisk to mix. Taste for sweetness. Pour into a small ice cream maker (the small size ice cream ball or Donvier ice cream maker.

Stir or churn or mix for a bit until the coconut milk is starting to thicken. Add smashed strawberries and proceed with whatever device until ice cream is ready. May serve soft out of maker or let sit in freezer.

Now that we're all sated (gustatorily that is), we can sit back and keep talking, or wander off and read some stories that I found particularly spicy this past week. Alison Tyler always has spicy stories for us - you can read and vote for group sex here or ditch the bedspread here. And over at Aphrodite's Table, Gina Marie (the smutter formerly known as Kirsten Monroe) has another thing coming for us - start here, then continues here. And if that's not enough, just click on any of the links over to the right - those are all smutters extraordinaire. 

Oh, and as if that's not enough! Here's a kinky video over at Agent Provocateur that makes me think of what these blog dinners might end up like some time!

Next Sunday we'll take over Neve Black's place. For the full summer line-up, go here. 

And sometime this week, I'll have an interview with Randy Lagana (whose artwork has graced this blog for awhile now) - and it is so weird that it worked out perfectly that each of those links goes to a blog post with one or more of his images - I didn't plan that! Here's his surreal Mango On A String.