Category Archives: Ramble On

#NaNoWriMo Week One Update

Hey, this is great!  I can spare a few minutes to update y’all on my writing progress every week, right? And, let’s be honest, I need to post something here.

Thank you NaNoWriMo for getting my ass moving on all writing fronts!

Anyway, here’s the low down on my NaNo thus far:

A little background info first. I signed up for a month-long challenge on the NaNo site about eight months ago. Guess that would make it April. I think I ended up writing 20K on a book that I still have yet to finish, but anyway, it inspired me to write faster. I’m not a NaNo success story by any stretch of the imagination, and I can freely admit that. I plan to fail miserably this month as well. I’m a planner, and I like my whiskey and my rough drafts pretty damn neat.

That being said, I signed up thinking the starting date would get me to complete my second book in my Shooting Stars series. It (kinda) did. I finished my rough draft of “Double Takes” on the 3rd of November. Not bad. Not too late to start the next one.

But I didn’t feel ready. I spent a few days outlining and doing character sheets and re-outlining. Okay, and formulating a play list of inspirational songs, I’ll be freakin’ honest.

Yes, this is my muse music. Clearly it will be a happy-happy, joy-joy kind of book. 😛

I know some people just jump right in and let the book take them. I’ve tried that. My books take me to brick walls if I don’t have at least a loose sketch of each chapter.

Anyway, I started writing on the fifth, I think, and I finished my first chapter yesterday at 4049. I could conceivably manage 7K words a week going forward, which would put a nice dent in book three.

I also need to start editing Double Takes so I can get that out to beta readers in the next few weeks.  All in all, I’m feeling good about my NaNo, doomed to failure though it may be (hell, according to my outline, this book will probably fall in the 40K mark anyway–doomed, I tell ya!). But that’s cool. I’m loving my characters, and the fact that I haven’t submitted book two yet gives me the opportunity to make sure they are consistent in both books.

So, yeah. There’s the report. Check back next week to see if I’m spiraling downward in a flaming plane. 🙂 Magic eight ball says “Signs point to yes.”

-Kimber

 


Slippery When Wet or Too #Sexy for my Blog or The Art of Writing Male/Male Anal

Did you sing that horrible song when you read the title?  A small, malicious part of me hopes so. >:-) Oh! I didn’t mean anything Bon Jovi, although this is a musical entry, I must say. Anyway, allow me to serenade you while we go at it, here.

The Slippery When Wet Blog Hop begins today, and I am ill-prepared. Or maybe too prepared. Anyway, I have a blog post I penned a while back, which seemed too risqué to send to other places as a guest blog, but is just right tonight after realizing I have two hours to get this sweetheart posted. Enter: The Art of Writing Male/Male Anal.

The Art of Writing M/M Anal

This won’t be comprehensive, but how about the basics for virgin author’s everywhere who want to delve into the great “Do Not Enter?” Sometimes it’s not just an exit, ladies and gentleman, but there are a couple of things we’re going to need in order to get this bird off the ground. So wave your magic pen and produce these magical items:

1.         Condom.  This baby gets top billing for most smut peddlers the world over. Publishing houses, generally speaking, are pretty firm on the “No Creampie” rule. That’s not to say you can’t sneak them in once in a while, especially in short stories which are more likely to fall into the erotica without romance or stupid people having risky sex categories (read: one seat closer to the almighty porn throne).  I wrote a short for Shane Allison’s Bad Boy anthology with Cleis Press (which should be out soon, actually) and had a bank robber getting it on with a hostage right after the hold up. Needless to say, there were no condoms available at the hideout in the woods. Obviously plot factors into your safe sex decision.

Also, if your MCs are in a serious, committed relationship, and you’ve laid that on the line—maybe even with a side note on VD testing (archaic term that is so Pretty in Pink it makes me smile–no, wait, I think that was Sixteen Candles)—you can go ahead and get really nasty. But—general rule of thumb—have a rubber in someone’s pocket/drawer/under the seat of their car/in the little booze container around their faithful St. Barnard’s neck.  Whatever. Non-human exceptions exist as well.  Aliens don’t carry AIDS and all you need is a rabies shot to get it on with a wolf shifter.

2.         Lube. This runs alongside the condom. For one, rubbers—even if they say lubricated—are going to make things, shall we say, rougher, than skin on skin. Also, chicks have the built-in lube. That’s right, we can make our own, so in vaginal sex no one gets bent out of shape if a bottle of K-Y isn’t sitting on your fictional dresser. But M/M? The human ass needs a helping hand (full of spit or jelly).  Spit isn’t the best, but it’s always available unless they are trapped in the Sahara, in which case, I doubt they’re feeling too amorous.

3.         A little foreplay. Even if you’ve got the rubber on your big burly top, he’s squirted an entire bottle of love-lotion on his long-stocking, and his pretty boyfriend is face-down-ass-up, it isn’t nice to just stick it in without a little preamble.  Rimming works, but if your guys aren’t so inclined, a gradual finger work-up is really the kinder, gentler thing to do than insta-penetration.

4.         Mention of the prostate.  No, it isn’t a prostrate like your mother-in-law calls it.  That means lying down with your face smashed into a pillow, which may well be the case with your sexy little bottom who happens to be getting his prostate hammered by his bear.  Not necessarily something you MUST mention, but seems to be a huge factor in the pleasure experience for the guy getting fucked.  I don’t know.  I don’t have one myself, and frankly I feel robbed. I’m going to go write my congressman right now.

5.         The grand finale!  I don’t need to tell you how to do this, really. The world is your orgasm oyster.  Have a fire hose showdown if you like.  One thing to remember is that if the guy on bottom gets off first, I hear tell having a big dick in his ass for an extended time after can be uncomfortable.  Again, I can’t verify this personally and I can’t ask my husband.  I also can’t take part in a fire hose showdown.  Robbed again.  Why else do you think I write this stuff?  It’s the closest I can cum, er come, I’m afraid. 😥

—————

There you have it! Now go out there and write some hot manlove. Who knows? You could be a natural! If you don’t feel comfortable doing it yourself, feel free to comment below for a chance to win my e-book “Forever is Now” and I’ll be happy to provide it for you.

In your comment, you may tell me your favorite 80’s song/movie or must-have male/male gettin’-it-on accouterments I missed. Fire at will, contest open all over the universe, and don’t forget to check out all the other blogs and comment like a mother-fucker.  Every comment on every stop gets you one step closer to the $50 gift card giveaway. I don’t make the rules, I just play by them (yeah, right).

-Kimber

This is a Blog Hop!



Rocking Rejection

Aw, shit.  Rejection.  The dreaded R word that probably should be spelled with four letters, it sucks so bad.

Micronodular cirrhosis developing in a transpl...

Micronodular cirrhosis developing in a transplanted liver with chronic rejection (Photo credit: bc the path) Writing rejection doesn’t suck as bad as organ transplant rejection. See? There is a bright side!

It happens to every writer at some point in time (and if it doesn’t, I bow down to you, and also will be creating a voodoo doll in your likeness later today–send me a pic).

Anyway, I’ve gotten them, and will continue to do so as long as I keep writing.  I’ve accepted it.  Sure, it still hurts, much like the country music someone just  turned on as I sit in the lobby of my five-year-old’s sports class.

[Seriously, people?  Are you trying to tell me I shouldn’t hang around while the boy runs his crazies out?  The classic rock you played the last few times was tolerable, if not preferred.  This is down-right cruel.  Mental note–head phones next time.]

Back to rejection.  It comes in all forms, and when I get past the anal-sex-with-no-lube burn of having my dreams dashed I can often see the positive side of rejection.  Here is my opportunity to add that scene I’d been considering.  Here’s my chance to employ some of the new editing techniques I’ve picked up in the four months I waited to hear back.  Now I can work out the suggestions recommended by editors kind enough to take the time to send along their notes.  Now I can rock this.

Sure, not every rejection is a lengthy letter on things the almighty publishers think should be changed.  They don’t always tell you what sucked about your precious bundle.  Sometimes they’re form rejects.  But even those are an opportunity to tweak your tale into something better than it was before.  Shake things up.  Get a few more beta reads.  Sell your soul to the Devil for a magic pen that writes real goodish. It’s a second chance to make your beautiful baby even prettier before she goes out into the world.  Stick a freakin’ bow in her hair and put on her frou-frou party dress before you promenade her through the lobby of the Ritz-Carlton.

[It was all of my bad analogies, wasn’t it?]

Your glass can still be half full with Jack Daniels, friends.

Me?  Mine has a good mouthful in it, and even a chip of ice still floating around as my latest N-O is tossed back on the drawing board.  I’m gonna make it sing way better than the dude currently whining on this f#%@^9 radio station.

I’m gonna rock it.

Cheers to second chances, all!

-Kimber


The Best Laid Plans

This sounds like a post about planning to get laid and then having it backfire, doesn’t it?  Or, is that just my perverted take on it?  Well, it’s not.  If I plan to get laid, I get laid, dammit.

Last month, I decided to whip out 20,000 words for a sub call about witches for Total-E-bound. They are planning their Halloween releases, and it sounded right up my alley.  Of course, in true Kimber fashion, I over-shot on my plot.  I sent my psuedo-novella to Lefty—-my wing-woman, my sounding board, my editor, and BFF—-who, in true Lefty fashion, asked me where the hell the rest of my story was and made fun off my bitchy heroine and typos.

Cooking Witches - Unknown Date

Cooking Witches – Unknown Date (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well, the upper word limit was 20K and that’s where I stopped.  There was no “rest of.”  But Lefty confirmed my fears.  I knew while I was writing it that I had a ton going on and the page-space was running out under my fingers.  I rushed some things and left way too many questions unanswered.  So, “Spelling Trouble” goes back to the drawing board.  I have a nice first 1/3 of a novel.  😛

Thankfully, Lefty is not only brutally honest, she’s also a wicked-awesome-plot-bunny-wrassler-extraordinaire.  If the science ever permits it, I’d like to have her head sewn on my shoulders so we can combine our evil forces and take over the world.

Lefty, the hubs and I saw a commercial for “I Killed My BFF” last night, and I knew in a heartbeat that you are the one I would kill if I was on that show.  I love you, man!

-Kimber


Fated and Hated Word Lists

Do you have a handful of go-to words you frequently use while writing?  I’m sure authors of all genres have those words we find ourselves typing more than others.  I, for one, also have a few that make me cringe while reading, or occasionally when they sneak from my fingertips when I’m not paying attention.

The words I’m discussing today are those I use (or try not to) while writing sex scenes.

First, those fated to be used (perhaps too much):

Slick –Notice it’s first?  Definitely at the top of my list for favorite sexy words.  It can mean anything from a smooth operator to a smooth surface.  Love it.  My current WIP is at 13K words and I’ve got four slicks.  Only one sex scene, too.  I may need to trim some.

Sweet — From terms of endearment such as sweetheart and sweet thing, to sugary sweet kisses, this word pops up on numerous occasions and needs to be checked for overuse.

Thrum — This is another one I adore (perhaps too much).  It’s just one of those words that best describes the vibrating sensation you feel when you have your hand wrapped around a cock when it does its thing.  Of course, too many thrumming cocks can get old.  Once in a while they need to do something else. 🙂

Teased — Current WIP clocks in at five teases.  Nah nah na-nah nah.

And now for the hated:

Danced –Blatant overuse has made this cliche-like for me.  Dancing tongues.  Blah.  I’d rather write they were doing the Charleston.  At least it would be more original and less cheesy-seventies-romance-novel-esque.  I’ve probably still had it slip in on occasion, and I hate it all the more for that.  Sneaky bastard.

Moist –Moist is an adjective for the delightful pastries pimped by the Pillsbury Dough Boy.  It is not for cooters.

English: Barbie Portrait

English: Barbie Portrait (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Fleshy –I know plenty of publishers are looking for stories with plus-sized heroines these days.  Fabulous–down with the Barbie dolls!  But fleshy?  It’s not an appealing way to say a girl has a lot of ass to grab.  I vote no.

Undulating –I had one of these in my WIP.  It was the perfect descriptor for what was happening.  It was also perfectly irritating each time I read it.  I knew when I typed it, it was only a placeholder.  Today, I banished that bitch.  Adios, undulating; you never stood a chance.

How about everyone else?  Any words you love or simply can’t stand?


Fifty Shades CliffsNotes

Chinatown Branch Library

Chinatown Branch Library (Photo credit: JenWaller)

I doubt FSOG will ever be required reading for any class, and therefore Mr. Cliffs will never give us the shortened version of the trilogy. Too bad for me, cause I’d really appreciate a chart detailing sexual positions and accouterments used by the happy couple.

I’m trying not to inadvertently do anything even remotely similar.

Good thing a church mom friend of mine read them all in her book club.  I’ll be picking her brain at the kids’ choir practice tonight.

If anyone out there has a quick and dirty cheat-sheet, kindly point me in the right direction.

AMF,

Kimber

P.S.  Before I posted this, I checked to be sure such a book didn’t exist.  There are, apparently, CliffsNotes for “The Hunger Games.”  Seriously?  What kind of pathetic high schooler can’t be bothered to read the book?  FSOG–it’s just a matter of time, I guess.  :/


Snow Daze: Screw You #Nemo

I knew it before school called it, but it still hurts.  We got slammed by Nemo; missed school on Friday, cancelled again today, not that I blame them. The roads are still impassable in some spots.  They certainly aren’t wide enough for the big yellow buses and potential oncoming traffic.  I wonder if they will even be able to resume tomorrow.

I don’t even want to talk about my aching back from the crazy amounts of shoveling.  Add to that misery my husband working from home yet again and you have a recipe for mass murder.  Thank God we didn’t lose power–I assure you I’d be in jail right now.  Damn you Nemo.  If you were that orange fish, I’d fry your ass up and feed you to my cats.

The real bitch of it is that February break is next week.  This happens every f’in year.  They never take days from that stupid week.  Yes, February “vacation ” is my most odious enemy–a dreaded seven days that throw a pall over the rest of the year.  I never go anywhere, and I’m stuck inside with three kids.  All the Vitamin D and mothers’ little helper in the world can’t make that palatable.

Instead, they’ll take from April break.  That one I actually do enjoy.  It’s Easter.  We travel.  We can walk outside without needing a Newfoundland with a thermos of booze strapped around his neck.  Green things are growing.  Life is good again and I have a much higher threshold for kid and husband bullshit.

But noooooo, they’ll pull from spring break and tack days to the end of the school year that screw with the camp schedule for the little fruits of my loin.

Maybe I’ll work a violent scene into my writing today, if I get to write at all.  Maybe I’ll finally get my wet, naked hunks out of the shower.  Maybe I’ll put some Tool on and go wash some dishes.

Where’d I put that mother’s little helper…?

This has been a public bitch fest from your friendly, neighborhood sex writer.

-Kimber


Thursday Thrills

Writing to a prompt–who does that?  Well, I do today.

The lovely Tallulah Rose has orchestrated this flash fiction weekly prompt.  She’s so good.  Between 100 and 1000 words, based on a photo; check it out next time and see if you are inspired to do a little freewriting!

Here is the picture:

After you read mine, see what other offerings are floating around in the ether by clicking the pic above.  I think the photo lends itself to a variety of genres, particularly smut and horror.  And so, I mix and match. 🙂

——-

This is not a brothel.

I guess “brothel” would imply an exchange of payment, and we never took money for our services.  I think the words on the knocker got us more patrons than a gaudy sign flashing the word “sex” over and over ever could have.  And somehow, they all walked through the door expecting to find their most scandalous desires manifested.

They often did.

We tried not to disappoint.  After all, the more they enjoyed themselves, the better they tasted.

I often thought we were like the pear upside-down cake I always made for our staff Yule party.  Before I flipped over the pan, it looked like a straight-forward cake–light and fluffy, enough to satisfy any sweet-tooth.  That’s how the girls and I looked to the men who came sniffing around.

Until the doors locked behind them, and we tossed the dish over and revealed the sticky bottom; then, our blackened brown-sugar side was obvious.  It was still syrupy sweet, almost intolerably cloying, but they never ran for the exits.  They always sampled until the bitter end.

And the knocker continued to crack against our door every night.  The sound always made me salivate.

I love chicken.

————————————–

200 words

That’s really all I can manage. 🙂  I’ll admit, the chicken part was just to get it to a nice, round 200.  I have a hard spot for 200-word stories.  Chicken is actually only okay in my book.

-Kimber


#SexySnippets Sunday

The name of the game is seven sexy sentences every Sunday.  The people in charge?  The Nuthouse Scribblers.

After you read mine, check out the other contributions by clicking the button below.

snippets button

My seven sentences come to you from my story, “My Soul to Take,” in the recently released anthology that saves lives, “Coming Together: In Vein.”  All proceeds go to Doctors Without Borders, as you probably already know. 🙂

“I am what you made me.”  She rubbed her lower lip against his.  Her nails combed through his hair and scraped down the back of his neck.

“I want your tongue inside me.  I want to wrap my legs around your head and feel your warm breath burning the inside of my thighs.”  Her voice was a demanding whisper against his ear.

She sucked on his earlobe as if it were his cock, and then teased inside with her tongue.

So there you have it.  Crave more sweet vampire love?  Check out Coming Together: In Vein.  No lie, this book will get your undead rocks off.

Proceeds go to help Doctors Without Borders! :)

Proceeds go to help Doctors Without Borders! 🙂

Now get back to work!

-Kimber


Photo Manipulation for Dummies (By A Dummy)

Okay, so, in case my title isn’t enough of a disclaimer, here’s another one:  I am so far from a photo manipulating pro that it’s laughable.  Why am I writing this post?  Well, on the off-chance someone out there is even less skilled/experienced than I in the fine art of photo manipulation, I may be able to help that person (and in the process feel superior).

Also, I just needed a post idea, so if you don’t like it, walk away, Renée.

On to the meat and potatoes…

The other day I spent hours (in which I should have been sending my fictional boys off to a baseball game, or some such nonsense) altering photos for my Facebook banner.  Let me just interject here and say that I really mostly hate Facebook.  Okay, so, anyway, I went to my old standby, Photobucket, to do some messing around.

Now, Photobucket seems to want to be a contender in the photo-altering biz, I tell ya.  Old, user-friendly (after a learning curve I’d rather not discuss) Photobucket is gone.  Enter the Beta.  It’s still got the basic functions, so thankfully I did not have to learn anything too new.  And their fun little photo enhancing functions from a short while back that NEVER worked for me, now do.  So cool!  It does get locked up on occasion (or maybe that is my sweet little HP mini which has entered into the ripe old age of three).

Enough talk!  Show us the damn pictures, Kimber!

Easy, killer.  Easy.  Your wish is my command.

Okay, so here is the banner thingy I’m using on FB.  Yes, it is top-heavy (like me, RDRR), but the reason for that is I had to crop it to fit in FB.  I also had to squeeze my text up in the middle a bit (yes, these are technical terms and shut your laughing face!) so my smaller left-hand-side-picture didn’t cover it.

See?  Here is my FB page so you know what I’m talking about.  Feel free to friend me while you’re there, or poke me, or click “Like” on this stupid page, or leave a burning bag of dog crap on my FB doorstep.  Whatever.  I really don’t care.

It’s a little crooked, but you get what you pay for, right?  Wanna see my original picture I took myself, right before a thunderstorm at dusk?  Okay!

5-29-12 N10As you can see, it was a pretty sweet shot to begin with because I have a fancy-shmancy camera and I got lucky.  Real photographers could be tearing me a new one right now.  Leave it in the comment box or tell your story walking.

But, I’m sure you notice the coloration is a bit darker and spookier.  After clicking edit, I chose “effect” and just tested a bunch out.  Then, for the super-cool outer space feel I went with “overlay” and “space.”  There are tons to choose from.  My rainbow heart was in “stickers,” and I happen to think my dripping come font is both apropos and classy.

Well, that concludes today’s crappy lesson.  I have to go teach Sunday school now.  Keep it cool, kids.

-Kimber


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