My Sexy Saturday ~ Resolutions

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Happy Saturday! It’s been a while since I’ve participated in the My Sexy Saturday blog hop, so it’s appropriate I’m coming back for the Resolutions themed hop.  One of my many resolutions is to share, play and participate more with all the lovely readers and writers online.

My seven paragraphs this week are from an untitled story in my long-planned, yet to be written Recovery Romance series.  There’s a resolution that needs to be made, but has Damien hit his bottom yet?

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Damien hoped to hell Mason wouldn’t be home when he crept guilt-ridden into their apartment. Give him time to shower at least, burn the clothes, come up with some excuse…no, there was no point in stories any more. Like a politician wracking up blowjobs from interns, it was better to come clean than lie.

He pushed away from the brick wall and continued up the slope. His debauched adventure had ended on the unfashionable side of Capitol Hill. He lived on Queen Anne and had a long slog home. He hoped Seattle’s salty breeze would clear his head and blow away some of the strange man funk that clung to him like sticky cobwebs. That was the worse thing. It didn’t mean anything of course, this forgotten sex, but now he’d have to get checked again for STDs and Mason would give him that contemptuous, holier than thou attitude for weeks and…shit.

Sunday. Mason was due back last Friday night. Damien had even planned a nice dinner to kick off their epic three-weeks-apart fucking reunion. He wasn’t much of a cook but he could do spaghetti sauce. He’d bought fresh tomatoes, garlic, the works.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pushed his fingers into his hair and muttered under his breath, well aware of people stepping to the far side of the sidewalk to avoid him. Little dogs barked angrily as he lurched past.

This was bad. Mason had arrived from Paris Friday night to an empty apartment. He’d waited, worried, freaked out. He had two full days to get into a complete froth. Damien’s head hurt thinking about it. His feet hurt because he hadn’t been able to find his socks and his sneakers chafed his heels after the first mile of his walk of shame.

Maybe, maybe it was time to admit he had a problem. For real. Maybe he should go straight to an AA meeting instead of home to face his lover’s pain. Anything, even walking over hot coals or listening to old bums pontificate about their higher power sounded better than watching Mason’s heart break again, see the suffering cloud his beautiful eyes and know it was entirely due to Damien’s lack of control.

But no way was Damien going anywhere looking and smelling like he did. The one time he’d gone to AA to get Mason off his back, he’d been well turned out and had looked down on all the mangy losers assembled in the basement of the sad Baptist church. Now the losers would be looking down on him, thanking their higher power they’d never fallen as low as he obviously had.  No. He’d just have to convince Mason he was too sick and damaged to fight. Put off the confrontation, think of some way to make up. He had to. Without Mason, he wouldn’t survive.

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Time for another play date with the writers of My Sexy Saturday.  Wether you’re a reader, writer or both, there’s plenty of steamy fun to be had by clicking the link and checking out the amazing selection of excerpts.  Writers of sizzling hot fiction will share either 7 words, 7 lines or 7 paragraphs from one of their works.

New Year’s Resolution Hop

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Once again I’m joining the writers at House of Manlove for a hop. This time we’re sharing our New Year’s Resolutions.

I try to remember to keep my resolutions to things I actually have control over. For instance, I’d really like to resolve to hit the NY Times bestseller list, but alas, that is the hands of forces way out of my control. So every year I renew my resolve to be as productive as I can be in regards to my writing. This is sort of a cheat, because I think I might be a workaholic when it comes to writing. No boundaries! I’d also like to resolve to have more time, but again, economic forces have more to say about that than I do.

I love that I’m now with a great publisher and my books are finally reaching appreciative readers. This is awesome. But in terms of being a workaholic, I need to remember to sit back and enjoy the journey instead of always focusing on the end point (the mystical bestseller list, or big royalty check that allows me to quit the day job, or the breakout novel that steams up everyone’s eReaders).

I love to write, always have, always will, but when the artistic endeavor gets all tangled up with marketing, selling, promoting, it can dim the joy of the creative process. I therefore resolve to forget all about the end points when crafting my story and simply revel in the knowledge I have a very good chance of getting this one published. Those times at the keyboard are all about the characters and their journey, not mine. That comes later, outside of the creative process. Yes, one must keep readers in mind, but not as consumers. Readers are along for the joyride just as much as I am and I have to keep my reader self close by as my writer self frolics in the realm of the imagination.

I also have to remember I have a life beyond the keyboard and I need to get out more and be with the 3-D people in my life.

To sum up, I hereby resolve to enjoy life more, to treasure every opportunity to practice my craft, to fiercely protect the small happinesses and to let go of the judgmental voices in my head saying I should be further down the road of success. Success is doing what you love, right?

Here’s to gobs of success for all of us in 2015.

Don’t forget to continue the hop and check out everyone’s resolutions!