Writing and Writhings

eBook debate

2008-08-25T15:55:00.000-07:00

I was recently asked to share my thoughts with one of Canadas largest print book retailers... here is my response.

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You raised some very good questions and after considering them, here is my professional opinion as one of the very few eBook publishers in Canada.

The popularity of eBooks is on the rise and will continue to grow, just as it did with the CD and the DVD. There are many reasons why this trend will continue to grow and eventually replace what we call the norm today.

Environmental

They are environmentally sound. It is my personal belief that print books will become collectables in the future in the same way vinyl records have. The call to be more eco-friendly these days is finally beginning to make some positive changes in the way we do things. More and more people are seeking out eBooks on that merit alone. The actual benefits to the environment can be monumental, and it’s not just the trees and cleaner air. A lot goes into manufacturing the paper. Pulp-mills consume massive amounts of energy and create waste. Toxins and chemicals are used to bleach and treat the paper and some toxins are left behind during processing that also damage the environment. The machines consume oil, electricity and some processes are still using coal. What about the dyes, inks and glues used (chemicals)? The books have to be shipped, using more resources and polluting the environment via the transport used, not to mention the customer who drives to the store to purchase the books. Many books pile up in peoples houses and after being passed around from one person to another, the majority of these books end up in our landfills. Sure they are biodegradable, but regardless of that, the inks and glues still leave toxins to leach into the soil.

Economic

There are still a few hurdles to contend with, but in the end it’s the consumer who finds them economical and this is drawing new readers to the eBook industry. The costs are lower to produce the product, and therefore the consumer is able to benefit by paying less. There is a very damaging idea floating around that eBooks have low quality when it comes to the skill of the Authors. That may be true for those who are self-publishing without going through the rigorous editing process with a professional publisher, but this is not so with a reputable eBook publisher. If this myth about sub-standard quality were really true, eBooks would have never gone further than a short fad. All of the eBook publishers I have met and networked with that have a standing in the industry, all have full a staff.

Example: My publishing company, Eternal Press, has in its employ an acquisitions editor, a senior editor, eight editors, four copyeditors, three cover artists and a handful of other people who take care of administrative tasks and marketing. A lot of work goes in to each book. It’s reviewed by acquisitions and is given a yes, no or a request for rewrites. Then it’s sent to the senior editor who schedules it and assigns it to an editor who is suitable considering genre and heat levels. The book will then be sent back and forth between the editor and the author, sometimes up to three or four times, until it is ready to go to the copyeditor. The copyeditor reviews it and the edited manuscript receives one last review between editor and author. When that has been completed, the senior editor reviews the work and the book enters the formatting stage. Each book is formatted to be easy to read and attractive to the eye. The cover art is made months in advance for the authors to use for promotions before its release date and contains amazing artistic talent and effort.

This is a process used by larger print publishers, and just as much effort, skill and professionalism goes into each eBook. The main difference is the fact that an eBook publisher gets to skip a few steps such as manufacturing a hard copy, and distribution with hopes that what was printed will be sold and not returned. I send my eBooks direct to the consumer in an economical and environmentally sound form.

I know there are some companies out there that will publish eBooks without the vigorous editing and processing. My opinion is that these are the kinds of companies that hinder the industry. With a bit of research into each company you deal with, this lack of quality can be avoided.

How to Boost the eBook Industry

At the moment eBooks can be read on your PC or Laptop computer, PDA, cell phone, Blackberry, palm pilot, i-touch, and other small hand held devises. There are also eBook readers for those who want something larger that makes the reading easier.

One of the biggest obstacles that the eBook revolution faces is the cost and quality of these eBook readers. From what I hear from consumers, staff, various blogs and websites who talk about such matters, the customer wants a product that they can hold in their hands much like someone would a book with a screen size that is comfortable to read. That means clear defined fonts, backlighting that can be adjusted for comfort, and size adjustment for those with bad eyesight who need to zoom in. It must be light, durable and rechargeable. But the most important thing: cost. The prices of these devices are still far too expensive to make using them an economical choice for the consumer. They range in prices from $150.00 to $500.00 and up. The quality of such devices are not worth the expense when it’s believed that the product could break when dropped rendering it useless and a waste of their hard earned money. The longevity of the technology itself is often a hindrance. Why spend $300 on something that is uncomfortable to use because it is lacking all of the basic features listed before? It’s still much cheaper to buy the paper copies of books than invest in an e-reader that is not functional to a degree that makes it worth the investment. When the technology is developed to make the e-readers both functional, affordable and durable, then the e-book industry will have no limits to its potential. There is no reason why an eBook reading device needs to be above the cost of an upper end calculator. The technology just plain isn’t that complicated.

In order to create a boom in the eBook industry, someone needs to manufacture an eBook reader that is between $50.00 and $75.00, that will read and store up to 2Gs of information, can plug into a computer or USB port and have a few options allowing change in the text size, lighting and bookmarks. It should be made with a durable shock resistant interior and exterior that will not harm the product if dropped. If someone were to offer such a product, I could guarantee a major boost in the industry; the growth would be phenomenal and eBook sales would expand exponentially.

Retail

At the moment eBooks are available almost exclusively online, with the exception of those authors who have put their eBooks on CDs to sell and sign for readers/fans at book signings. Publishers and authors are beginning to offer downloads at their individual booths at writer’s conventions and book festivals etc.

Online publishers offer their products directly from their websites. They also use other online retailers who specialise in selling eBooks and software. Fictionwise, Books on Board, All Romance eBooks, eReader.com and Content Reserve all market, sell and distribute the eBooks to consumers in many different e-Formats. Fictionwise alone increased my sales at Eternal Press by 5 times. Amazon climbed on the bandwagon and sells over 1,000,000 different eBooks in many e-Formats and have their own reader (Kindle) which, if offered at a better price, would make more consumers permanent eBook readers.

At the moment as long as you have a PayPal account or a credit card, you can purchase eBooks from your cell phone and any other wireless device used to read them. But for those who have no wireless technology, they’ll need to go to a website and download the eBooks they want to their computers, or in some cases directly onto their e-reader device.

Most large book stores have computers available to the consumer to help them search for the titles they want by author, genre etc. Even then, there is no guarantee it will be available, and often items have to be ordered. This inconveniences the consumer, many of which are likely to give up and buy something else that’s more readily available. So why is it that there is no kiosk at the checkout where a consumer can purchase the book they want and plug in their device to download the eBooks they purchased? For those who only use cash (not credit) this route gives them the ability to buy eBooks which otherwise is completely unavailable to them. Why can’t there be eBook kiosks in airport terminals, bus depots and hotel lobbies where a consumer can purchase and download directly? What about hospitals? Instead of renting out TVs and passing around old used books with limited selections, how about renting e-readers and offering millions of selections so a patient can chose anything they want to read, literally bringing the library to them?

How many publishers are kicking their behinds because they turned down J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter books because they believed kids don’t read books, that they would rather be playing video games? Why is Canada’s largest book retailer ignoring this growing industry that will one day be the norm? Are you willing to go bankrupt as the industry grows around because you refuse to adapt to change? Also I would like to add something my senior editor said to me. She is a Canadian living in Australia and as my senior editor I asked her to copyedit this letter for me. Lauren said in a comment... Quote “You may also want to add something about availability and cost of books in smaller foreign countries. I’ve mentioned to you before how expensive books are here, and how often times, the books I want are simply not available here. They have to be ordered from Amazon at my personal expense instead of the book store. I’d love to have a functioning, affordable e-reader and download a book from on-line instead of waiting six weeks to have it shipped using surface mail from the US...at a very high cost to me!

I have my eBooks on all of the eBook retailers mentioned above and I’m slowly making them available to more and more web retailers. I am a very proud Canadian and I want to offer Canadians a way to buy Canadian products in Canada. There are not many eBook publishers in Canada and I am very happy to know that I can take advantage of the Canadian market, which at the moment is largely unaware of the growing movement. I hope that Eternal Press will one day be known as one of the Canadian publishers who took an active, positive role in the growing trend and stuck it out to help make a successful shift in how all Canadians read books in the future.

In conclusion, eBooks are here to stay; eBooks are growing steadily in popularity and eBooks will one day oversell print books, changing the industry forever. I’m proud to be a part of that.

You asked me how I became an eBook publisher. Well it’s a long story, but ultimately I bought a drowning company and gave it fresh air and a vision.

Sincerely,
Ally Robertson

Psychic Passions Book Trailer

2008-08-07T15:24:00.000-07:00

Here is the new video book trailer for Psychic Passions.

Psychic Passions by Ally Robertson Coming August 7th 2008

2008-07-17T11:18:00.000-07:00

In a few weeks my novel Psychic Passions is due to be released.

At this moment it will only be released in eBook format unless I am able to finish up my publisher page at Lulu on time. Most of Eternal Press books will soon be available in print. How exciting is that! I look forward to the leap in sales it will generate and will finally help to get EP recognized as a legitimate publisher, not a vanity press. My staff consists of a Senior Editor, a Senior Acquisitions Editor, a Marketing Manager, an Administrative Editor, a Personal Assistant, 8 Editors, 3 Copyeditors and 2 Cover Artists. I don't know of any vanity press that has so many qualified people working for them. We also have nearly 60 published authors. I am very lucky to have such an amazing team working for EP. Please pop by my website and see the variety of quality books Eternal Press has to offer. ETERNAL PRESS

Below you will find the summary and an excerpt for my book Psychic Passions.

PSYCHIC PASSIONS

Paranormal/Erotic/Romance
96,000 words
$5.95 Canadian
5 Flames

Summary

Psychic Passions is filled with empathic psychic passion, plenty of hot, steamy sex, desire and fire, suspenseful psychological trauma, triumph over tragedy, mental illness, death and rebirth, concluding with a thrilling cliff-hanging victory over deception, blackmail and evil.

Caprice Hutchins and Cassidy Cornwall are both empaths and artists, both struggling to survive with their own distinct mental illnesses. Together they will fight for their very lives and their sanity to find and keep each others souls. They must learn to accept each other and triumph over their inner demons. They will be reborn through death, through time, to achieve a deep psychic connection, filled with desire, passion, obsession and unconditional love.

The Cornwall family, together as a unit are committed and strong. They thrive with unyielding love and acceptance, their devotion binds them. They will fight to the bitter end to protect those they love from harms way.

Excerpt

As for that bitch Caprice, he thought. Who the fuck does she think she is? Comes here, spends some time with the family and she’s given a prize horse like Cherry’s Blossom, just to give her some stupid pussy name. What are they doing? Buying her affection for Cassidy. He’s nothing but a spoiled, self righteous, nut case, bastard. Larkin fumed with anger and resentment.

He’d stayed out of sight behind the half closed door, and watched and heard everything they’d said and done, through the crack in the door hinge. He’d heard all the passionate sounds, Cassidy had elicited from Caprice. Sounds he’d like to make come from her himself, but with more fury, pain, desperation. Oh how I’d love to torture you and make you scream, he thought.

Credits

Psychic Passions © 2008 by Ally Robertson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

An Eternal Press Production
Eternal Press 206 - 6059 Pandora St. Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada, V5B 1M4
To order additional copies of this book, contact: www.eternalpress.ca

Cover Art © 2008 by Ally Robertson
Edited by Pam Slade
Copyedited by Erin Cramer
Layout and Book Production by Ally Robertson
eBook ISBN: 978-1-897559-23-9
First Edition * August 2008
Production by Eternal Press

The Results are in.

2008-02-08T15:54:00.000-08:00

I am so glad I waited for the official cause of of Heath Ledgers death to come out before assuming anything.

I've been in the very same situation with prescription meds where I found out later I could have easily overdosed accidentally... The most recent time was this past summer when I went through a bout of mania and I was sleepless for nearly a week. I had increased my own dosage of ativan at that time to 4 times my original dose in an effort to fall asleep. I was clearly unable at that point to make a clear decision and my calls for help went un-noticed by my Dr.s until the pharmacist informed them of my second refill. I was up to 8mg of Ativan, my body seem to be immune to it and it was to a certain extent.
At that dosage I could have easily went to sleep and died quietly and peacefully in my sleep. After being switched to a different medication that I had such serious side effects to, I decided that was it. I would take my lumps and try to sleep meds free. It was agreed that if in the absence of the drugs I remained awake again for more than 3 days I was to head to the hospital as major mania can kick in without enough rem sleep and I would not be safe with my own actions. I got over the hump. I suffered through sleepless nights several times a week and settled into the routine of... If I am tired I will sleep, it didn't matter if it was 11am, 6pm, 2am, I would sleep for how ever long I could. I am now sleeping meds free, I am back to my usual 8 hours of sleep of 2am till 10am. I swear not to ever return to those meds, my life is more important to me and my family.

I grieve for all of Heath Ledgers family and their suffering. I am saddened that he had to die so tragically. He was so gifted and I admired him like no other before him. I hope that many people have learned and are more aware of the dangers with mixing meds and accidentally over medicating. It would be a shame to know his death served no purpose.

This smile will forever be etched in my memories.

HEATH LEDGER DEAD at 28

2008-01-22T15:07:00.000-08:00

I hate how when I cry or sob I hold my breath between gasps to the point where I feel like I'm gonna pass out. I really should be working right now but I just heard the news not 15 min ago about the death of Heath Ledger. I'm not one who fusses much over stars but I do have my favorites. Heath was one of them.

I remember the first time I saw Heath Ledger. I was at the drive-in theatre out in the country side by BeaverDams Rd between the cities of Niagara Falls and ST.Catharines, only a short distance away from where Tim Horton died. It was a favorite place for me and my kids to go for an affordable movie when they had the carload specials.
I went to see a Knights Tale and was immediately smitten for this young hansom Aussie. So smitten that when I got home that night I scoured the internet to find his name, previous films and pictures. Within a few days I had built myself a very nice Heath Ledger screensaver.

I took my kids back to see the movie a few more times, but they soon tired of my newest addiction and like a closet drunk I got babysitters for the kids and kept returning to the drive-in alone. All in all I saw the movie in the theatres 15 times. Yes I know that's nuts and a little over board, but this is what it did to me.

I don't know why, perhaps it's that obsessive way I fantasize when I feel passion. Heath swept me away into a world I desperately needed at the time. I was so sick and in horrendous chronic pain and he took me away from all that when I allowed my mind to float away with him to a world that I could live in at the time. It was somewhere I wanted to be and I could feel alive again.I pre-ordered a Knights Tale and had rented his other movies to fill in the time between the release of the movie to video stores. I've seen all of his newest movies and own several more.

Brokeback Mountain to me was one of his best performances. I am far from being homophobic and I was excited to see the movie. Both he and Jake pulled it off so perfectly. In my eyes the way they carried their characters was so respectful and convincing. The roles took courage to perform knowing the stigma and banter that they could face with such a movie, but they shined and to me showed their strength, talent and skill as actors.

God... I feel so sad. They say it was an overdose that took him so far and that he was surrounded by pills. Well I can speak from repeated experience in my youth that if you want to overdose you eat all of the pills, you don't leave any behind. I hope the truth doesn't get misconscrewed by the press. I know the stories are flying all over the place right now and I refuse to believe any until the truth about an autopsy is completed and an investigation complete.

For now I know Heath where ever he is can hear the pouring out of souls who are crying today and feel a loss in their lives as a result of his death. Heath was loved by many, adored by many and admired by most. No matter what the cause I remain in my faith to know he is in a better place, protected and will have peace.

My greatest sympathy and condolences go to his his baby girl Matilda. Also to his mother and father whom I do not know whether they are still alive themselves, Sally Ledger Bell and Kim Ledger.
GOODBYE HEATH
YOU WILL BE MISSED AND REMEMBERED

The Year of the Purge

2007-12-31T07:31:00.000-08:00

This picture is one of the prettiest among the 150 I took yesterday on my outing to Squamish.
As many people do on this last day of the year, I reflect on the happenings of the past year and rattle through my brain all of the goings on. This past year I am naming “the year of the purge”. I am almost speechless when I try to consider all the change, the accomplishments, the pouring out of myself after being locked away in my own grief for so many years.

I woke up this morning around 4am and lay in the dark contemplating the new year and in doing so remembered my past several years, thus I spent the next hour and a half sobbing. I survived yet another year, a feat in itself for many like me. I cried, trying to expel the last vestiges of pain left over from a year of trying to shrug it all off, shake off the dirt, pull my pants up and walk proud as if I had never fallen.

Ever since fibromyalgia claimed my life on Jan 14 2001, claimed the majority of my happiness, took my dream job away from me and left me wracked with pain for the past 7 years, I had stumbled around trying to figure out what was left for me. I had worked to support myself since I was 15, then supported the family I created for myself. I was a matriarch, responsible for all those around me (or always had thought I was and still think I am...) and I suddenly found myself having to depend on others (whom I am sad to say were not all that dependable nor supportive). I had dominated my world around me and suddenly found my self a subordinate, no longer in control of anything. For years I had wondered if I would ever work again, support myself again, feel productive and of some worth. I am glad that come tomorrow, the first day of 2008 I can say “I look forward to this coming year.”

Those words seem so very foreign to me. I will say them again. “I look forward to the year 2008 and all it has in store for me.” Seems profound, but I will make it all I can. This past year has seen a major growth spurt.

I began my year in a very odd way. At times I anger myself at how cruel I can be when I take what I need for myself, it’s rare enough for me to give to myself. But I began my year last Jan1st by telling my husband whom I had been separated from for nearly a year, yet dating once again, that my new years resolution was him. I wanted to dissolve what was left and say good bye. Start my year alone and I did, for 3 months anyways, until in a moment of weakness when my mental illness tried to claim me once more and he stepped back in when he knew I was helpless to say no. The only part of that resolution I succeeded in was that I never once said I love you again to him, that parts gone, never to return. We now only spend weekends together. I am still bound by the consequences that keep me fearful of leaving it behind once more. When you feel like your families happiness rides on your back its hard to turn it.

Those 1st 3 months without him around I tried to sink into my art. I painted quite a bit, I had been going to an artists studio to paint and was socializing again and pulling up my pants. I was knocked down a few times, but I got back up anyways. It was an odd thing that happened next. I had fallen in love with someone I admired from afar and let it consume me for some time. My love for him remained unspoken, not knowing what to do with it. I had spoken of my infatuation to a friend and she suggested I write it down. Write out what I feel, why, what I think I can do with it etc. I had been letting it consume and control my thoughts and I had wandered in my own daydreams and fantasies for months.

So I sat down and began to write. I had decided to start off by writing an account of what led up to me falling for him. I had tied it all in together with what I had experienced in the past 7 years and the way my life had been place at a dead stand still. So I wrote an autobiography about my past 7 years. It nearly landed me in the hospital, remembering all of what I had wanted to wipe out of my mind and in a way writing it all down helped purge some of the pent up suffering I had held onto so tightly. With that gone and writing about the long steps I took in ending my marriage that led to my independence and the freedom to actually fall in love with someone else, I began to write out how I fell in love.From there it grew into writing out a fantasy of what I wished would or could happen. Somewhere along the line I was side tracked and had begun writing erotic poems back and forth to an online friend. Never intending to ever take the steps to make a real life lover with him even though he lived in the same city, I let my mind free and wrote some of the most powerful poems I had ever written. He and I shared a battle of words and wit. He would fire one poem at me and I would reply to it with another. Before we knew it we had nearly 100 poems and decided we should organize it into a book. I’ll never forget that spurt of creative thought we shared, although brief. He had agreed to do some editing after I had arranged it into some form of order and while waiting I sat back and began to write more on my other story.

Then as I thought I had reached the end of that fantasy, I realized I was still not ready to let go of it. I had written it all in a 1st party perspective as if I were narrating my life story. But the story had evolved into a fictional work. So I set forth and divided the writings. I put aside the autobiographical parts and saved it for another time. I then rewrote the beginning of the novel, edited it , changed it to a 3rd party perspective and Psychic Passions was officially born. When I had reached the end I was reluctant to let it go yet again and after several edits I continued it until I had myself a full length novel. Although my thoughts of him continued and feelings remained the same I put a “The End” to my story.

I’ve given myself permission to feel what I feel and to not let it interfere with my life and although I still think of him and love him I know I’ll never have him, nor should I and I will allow my love to remain just that, pure and simple, accepting that I don’t have to let it die, I can allow it to just fade in time slowly, look back one day fondly and be thankful that it bore a novel to remember him with for the rest of my life.

With that said here is a list of happenings in my busy year.
- A dozen paintings.
- I pulled a major brain fuck with some Nigerian con-artist, whom I entertained myself with sadistically for 2 months before finally informing him I conned the con... hehe.
- An 80 page book of erotic poetry.
- A 7 year autobiography.
- A 97000 word paranormal erotic romance novel.
- 30000 words into a second erotic romance novel.
- I’ve developed many new friendships and acquaintances in the world of novelists through dedicated networking, blogging, chatting and running several myspace accounts.
- I’ve had a job interviewing authors for RG a 3D online chat forum, which I was sad to see closed its doors not too long after I had taken the job, (which took a lot of my time and I did not get paid for), but my goal had been to network and learn the industry, and I achieved that goal.
- I became involved with a friend and colleague from RG whom introduced me to the IMVU world and I was shown a world so foreign I immediately fit in. I found my long hidden persona and reclaimed my dominating needs and became a “virtual world” dominatrix/domme/mistress... what ever you wish to call it and reawakened a dead part of myself. Man did I ever miss me. (That’s another story I’ll write about one day...)
-To top it all off and make this year complete I was reintroduced to a colleague from RG and we became fast friends. I feel like I’ve known her a life time, but sometimes that’s how friendships are. I’ve come to realize that we meet the people we meet for a reason and every person in your life no matter how small take a part in creating your world.

The day before Christmas she offered me a fresh start in a position that suits my personality and skills... I am now the Marketing Manager for Eternal Press. An excellent way to begin a year, with a new job and a fresh open perspective.So I say it once more as if to affirm my faith. “I look forward to the year 2008 and all it has in store for me.” May all those I know and love be blessed.

WooHoo... Eternal Press Here I Come

2007-12-24T10:17:00.000-08:00

OK that's it. I have just finished making turtle soup and I am eating up my blaaaaaa's and breaking open my shell. Nothing like the prospects of a new and exciting job to wake one up.

I have some terrific news. I have just been offered the position of
"Marketing Director"
at Eternal Press.
I will be receiving and signing my contract soon. My 1st day on the job will official commence on January 2nd 2008.

http://www.eternalpress.com.au
WOO...HOO!!!
A major Thank you to Dee Owens the CEO and Head Executive of Eternal Press.
As well as Julie D'Arcy Owner and Founder of Eternal Press.

I am a Turtle.

2007-11-26T16:14:00.000-08:00

OK I am posting this because I am be questioned by people who have recently come to know me but don’t really know me, such as... Where are you, how come you haven’t posted, when are you coming back? Yadda yadda yadda...

Well I do believe it is on its way. This time of year usually starts to bug me the day after Halloween. November 1st the stores start to play Xmas music and my blood boils for a month, then for the following month I struggle to keep my head high enough to survive the holiday and keep my appearances up for family, the mask comes on. To me Xmas is all about expectations and that is what drives me batty. As I’ve said before, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it is the one holiday where the only expectations everyone has is to have a good meal with the people you love. I no longer view Xmas as such a holiday, I wish I did, but I don’t. It seems to me to be an endless 2 months of I wants, can I haves and commercials convincing you that you will be loved if you get them an “Oh my God I love you” present. Fuck that shit! I really do hate my own cynicism and I will try as always to get into the spirit of things, put up a tree, paint a pretty winter scene on my patio windows and put up Xmas lights.

But because I don't want to suck everyone into my pit, I will suffer quietly. I learned that I loose friends when I dump my shit, so now I just stay as silent as can be until the storm passes. Once the holidays come to an end, I crash soon afterwards when I let all my bottled up shit spill out and I fall to the bottom level of my pit.
Below is my painting depicting my pit. The painting is named...
"Lost in Anguish"

I try not to do it every year and every year I fail. So I am going to expect it this year, I am tired of fighting so hard and beating my self up every year that I fail. So here it is, please don’t take it as a personal insult if I don’t write like I used to, post like I used to, chat or send cute little comments. Yes I enjoy your emails and comments, just please expect smaller ones than usual, and don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to. I beg you not to send me your suggestions on how to feel better, I’ve suffered in this way from the time I was 10 and I believe I’ve tried it all. I will hopefully post more when I am feeling the need. I do intend to do some things differently. I will try to post more in my support groups, I will chat more often and try to stay social on IM's to keep my brain busy. Stay out of bed and hope that I can go one more year without being hospitalized (20months so far, pretty good) again. I promise to be aware of my levels of despair and to head to the hospital if I know I am in danger.

I will most likely be unable to write much more on my book until I am feeling inspired again and at the moment I have only 1 ambition, to survive. Usually the first shoots of the spring crocus’s in February perk me up and get my attention and my heart and brain starts to pump me full of the I’m dying to feel good chemicals. So until then I shall patiently wait. For now just think of me as a Turtle hiding in its shell until it feels safe again to come out. Try not to worry.

My motto for this year is...
“The key to survival is self acceptance.”

Ok, I made my fear go stand in the corner.

2007-11-08T17:37:00.000-08:00

I finally did it. I said to hell with my fear, I pulled up my britches, puffed up my chest, nice chest by the way, and I finally sent out my very 1st query letter. I am crossing my fingers, my toes, my arms, my eyes, never my legs, no no you can't make me.

I feel like puking at this very moment and may give into that sometime tonight. I know I will sit and stew. Grrrr.

For those just joining me and have not read the summary of Psychic Passions here it is.

Psychic Passions is a paranormal erotic romance novel, filled with empathic psychic passion, suspenseful psychological trauma, triumph over tragedy, mental illness issues, death and rebirth, concluding with a thrilling, cliff-hanging victory over deception, blackmail and evil. Oh and yes, plenty of hot, steamy sex, desire and fire.

The heroine and hero in this tale are Caprice Hutchins and Cassidy Cornwall. They are both empaths, both artists, both struggling to survive with their own distinct mental illnesses. Together they will have to fight for their very lives, to find and keep each others souls. They must learn to accept each other and triumph over their inner demons. They will be reborn through death, through time, to achieve a deep psychic connection, filled with desire, passion, obsession and unconditional love.

The Cornwall family, together as a unit, are tight and strong. They thrive with unyielding love and acceptance, their devotion binds them. They will fight to the bitter end to protect those they love from harms way.

Psychic Passions was written by Ally Robertson, a bipolar, empathic, artist, of Vancouver BC. You will find that she has written her works using her unique Canadian flavour, adding flare to her unique Canadian stories.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

2007-10-31T11:09:00.000-07:00

Time for some tricks and treats, what shall it be? Personally I like tricks over treats, candy rots your teeth, but then tricks can be expensive too... Just Kidding. I don't have to pay for it.

I saw a neat post over at Lust Bites the other day about Vamps ect... Was a great post. I had written a comment but it was lost in cyberspace when I lost my Internet connection, so out of frustration I didn't go back, but decided to post a few pix on Halloween from my Vampy, Goth, Emo years (my kids still call me an Emo). I actually went through several years with that look, from 18 to 21, that's pretty long. Now I am a redhead and have been for ages. But the Vampy look was all about speaking out for me. I came from a family which always frowned at my outspoken appearance, I grew up with peers that disdained anyone not in the norm. Since I felt oppressed mostly by all of those people all of my life, when I hit 18 I no longer cared what anyone thought. I had been on my own for several years, I worked full time in a strip bar as a cocktail server, was my own woman and said fuck it. I liked the look, it suited me, it spoke out to those who wanted to contain me and restrain me. It basically said FUCK YOU and I looked hot in it. I admit I am a much better red head now that I look back, but it sure was fun. I had always been a rocker and I loved Joan Jet. She was an icon then and to me she was everything I wanted to be. She was hot, she was outspoken, she dressed what ever way she wanted, she began some fads even. I also admired Kate Bush, she was another Vampy freak who I thought was another outspoken woman. Being an undiagnosed bipolar youth I never understood my own differences and had a hard time embracing myself, I disapproved of myself as much as the people in my life. That all changed when I began to let myself be the freaky self I had always fought to be. When I finally let go of my fears I was able to embrace myself. Although she was a platinum blonde I was also a major fan of Annie Lenox, she was more than everything I wanted to be. After my Vamp years I donned the short crew cut and spiky hair of Annie, my hair remained mostly short like that for a decade or so. I have long hair now and love it now that I am past the awkward stage. I have stopped dying my hair and have turned to rinses, my hair loves me for that. I no longer perm my hair and I have toned down my make up to earthy tones. One thing that has not changed is that I am still the outrageous and intense Ally. I still don't give a Fuck what people think and have realized after so many years of torturing myself that if people can't see the me I see, then they have no business knowing me. This pic was taken 3 weeks after I had my second son. I was a hot Mama! Maybe I should have more babies... NOT! Loved the cut. I also had a foot long tail growing down the back whice I curled into a ringlet.
HAVE A HAPPY AND SAFE HALLOWEEN

The Ozzy Concert Rocked My World

2007-10-21T01:38:00.000-07:00

I had a fucking awesome time tonight. A week before the concert I began psyche myself up, I went to Value Village and bought a secondhand black leather jacket. I went to Walmart, bought some new jeans and a new black bra to go with one of my black tanks.

I bought a blue/black color rinse for my hair and planned to get decked out Ozzy style. I used the rinse on Wed night, but it only darkened my red hair and made it look bland, so I took out one of my burgundy rinses I keep on hand and redyed it. Worked better anyway, I've been a red head for so long it just sticks onto my hair easily and it goes great with my eyes. I got ready 3 hours before we left for the concert and paced my house for hours and nearly drove Bob insane.

My youngest son Richard came over for a preconcert dinner and we picked up my oldest son Max on the way. After finding parking an outrageous $20.00 and we walked 2 blocks to GM Place, and we were inside in moments and found our seats. I was so excited. The opening band sucked. A female punk rocker who couldn't scream worth a shit and I was relieved when she was done. Then Rob Zombie came on and he put on an amazing show, I loved his theatrics and they were all over the place with tons of action, flames and great music. My new camera was screwed up and the shutter won't open so I had to take my old digital, yuck, most of the photos didn't work and I was pretty disappointed I only got a few good shots, big difference going from a 7.0 with amazing zoom capabilities down to a 2.0 with little zoom. Ah well I had a great time anyways. Finally Ozzy came on and I lost it, literal, I can not speak now, I've killed my throat from my screaming and all I can now speak with is a scratchy rasp, I am sure it will be silence tomorrow.

I am happy I can say I got to see an Ozzy concert at least once in my lifetime, my favorite song "Crazy Train" has been an icon and theme song for my life of bipolar insanity. I have so much respect for Ozzy, he is bipolar too and although he still struggles I think it is so cool he survived his illness, his success and his fame.

I even cried when he sang "Here For You" just before the encore. It's sad to think he doesn't have many performing years left, although he seems so timeless, as an empath all I felt from him was exhaustion. His performance was great, but definitely not the Ozzy of years gone bye, when he had his manic energy, youth and vigor. He was a bit off key and struggled to keep up and I felt overwhelmed at his frustration. There were alot of people in the stadium and I could be very wrong with the feelings I was flooded with, but I rarely am. Those of you who have a chance to see him, go, the experience was a definite pinnacle for me.

I brought home Psychic Passions from my editor today.

2007-10-17T21:04:00.000-07:00

Whew. That part is over. I was terrified when I first brought my book to the editor I hired to have it edited. He is a well respected, retired university professor of British decent. He taught at the University of BC, York University in Toronto, Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, College of Journalism in London/UK and several Medical Colleges lecturing about practices in Naturopathic Medicine. I am a woman whom did not earn my grade twelve diploma until I was 26, I had slaved all my life to a system and a family, and I am now just discovering who I am and what I am all about.

Why would I feel comfortable handing over something that I toiled over so much? I feel like I had birthed that novel like I had my own children, with hard labour, it's my newest baby. I was terribly awash with fear and anxiety thinking; Will he laugh at my audacity to think I could do something as extensive as this? Would he be horrified at my ghastly use of grammar and punctuation? Would he scoff at the way I pushed the envelope and crossed some invisible boundaries? Would he look at me like the freak that I think I am? Would he want to chop it up after I told him I wanted to keep the unique Canadian flavor in my flow of speech, my slang terms, my Canadiana?

I really judge myself far worse than anyone else ever has in my life.

The answers to the questions... No, no, no, no and no.
Yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He did say that with his British upbringing, education and expertise that it was hard ignoring my distinct Canadian flavour, but he survived it and was rather sucked into my novel right until the end. He handed back my manuscript and we went through it.

He pointed out the minor corrections he'd made, the occasional spelling error my spell checker had missed, a few (there instead of their) faux pas, my over use of commas and the odd capital letter misplacement.

He did not laugh at me. He told me he was impressed with my intelligence and my knowledge of medical terminology.

He admitted I had plenty of punctuation errors, but offered to tutor me and pull me up to speed on some of the fundamental rules I could no longer recall.

He did not think I pushed the envelope too far and that what I wrote was not distasteful. He did say he'd had to stop now and then because of the intense feelings that it had "aroused" in him.

He also did not mention that he thought I was a freak and he even expressed looking forward to working with me again.

Best of all, my story is pretty much intact. There are many, many pages that went untouched and that gives me plenty of confidence.

Patting self on back now. Atta gal Ally, there's no doubt about it, it's ok to be Canadian eh. LOL.

So now that I have my manuscript back, the 500 words per day limit goal that I set for writing my next novel will be on hold temporarily. I am at 22,000 words so far but it will still be there waiting for me. I will be busy for now correcting the changes from my manuscript onto my computer document.

Let the "LAST" edit begin...

PS. Holding up wine glass and toasting to all my friends.
Mmmm, 2006 Grey Monk, Kerner - Late Harvest. An Okanagan Valley white wine, VQA certified. Awww, so incredibly delicious.

BLOG ACTION DAY

2007-10-15T00:23:00.000-07:00

Before I go off on my thoughts and ramblings about how much I love the environment, I want to stress first what is important. Never more than now does Reduce, Reuse and Recycle carry more meaning. Please write those companies that you see who over package their goods or just plain boycott them and don’t buy it. Reuse what ever you can, when ever you can. Please recycle. If you think you don’t have the time then give what you don’t recycle to someone who will, the extra money may help them. I give much of my returnables to the homeless by leaving them on top of or beside the garbage cans instead of inside them, or I leave them in a clear bag outside near a trash and in no time they are gone. Sometimes I give them to my neighbours who need the extra cash. The smell at the recycle centre makes me ill, so I’d rather give them away to someone who would be more willing to do it, I give out approx $10 to $15 per month doing this. Turn on lights only when you need them, turn them off when you don’t. Fill a cup with water when you brush your teeth instead of running the tap. By eco friendly cleaning products. Take your unwanted items to charity, keep things out of the landfills for as long as possible. There are many places now that recycle computer parts, TV’s and other appliances. Put a brick in your toilet tank to reduce the amount of water you use just to flush and no need to flush every time. I grew up with a septic tank and I understand what it’s like to only flush when there is a number 2 in the bowl, no reason why it can’t be the same when using a sewer system in the city. Do what you can, when you can and you’ve done your part. One person can make a difference and when combined, we as a whole can make an enormous difference.

As a writer I wanted to not only get my story out there in a fun, exciting way, but also in a knowledgeable way, I want my readers to learn something. In my 1st novel I described and built an environmentally friendly home, an eco dwelling. In the second novel I am working on, not only are my characters stranded in the wilds of Northern BC but I will express the need for conservation, what effects the climate change has had on the environment and how to respect what we have left.

I have always had a very deep connection with the earth. I carry her rocks everywhere with me around my neck. I probably have several hundreds of pounds of rocks, crystals and gemstones combined in my home and on my patio. My largest rock is a large chunk of quartz that I made my husband carry down a mountain for me, it’s about the size of two footballs (40 lbs) and it guards my patio door to bounce away negative energy.

I keep the air fresh in my house by keeping many plants and it livens up the atmosphere.
Oct 14th 2007 Kids water park in an undamaged area of Stanley Park.

Against my better judgement and even after being told by those who know me most not to go to Stanley Park, I ventured out today and went anyway. It was a beautiful day today, one of the last sunny ones we may have before we have rain and clouds for the rest of the winter. I had been avoiding going to my favorite park since last December. There was a terrible windstorm that swept in from the Pacific ocean, trees were downed all around the coastal cities, but nowhere was the damage felt more than in Stanley Park.
The trees in this photo are gone.

Stanley Park is a city park in Vancouver. It is 10% larger than Manhattan’s Central Park and is well known as the largest urban park on the North American continent. I loved Stanley Park. She was home to some amazingly old trees. We just lost the oldest one a few days ago in high winds and it was between 800 and 1000 years old.
This is a picture with my husband Bob in the centre and my nephew Billy to the right in 2006. All of the trees behind them are gone now.

This is whats left of them after the damage.

The damage from last winters storm far outweighed what my mind was able to comprehend or imagine. I knew that the fact that I loved the park and that I connected with the park on an empathic level, that it would make me shed some tears for her losses. I was so wrong. My daughter warned me not to go. I didn’t just shed a few tears. I sobbed, I wailed, I keened, I grieved violently. I had waited 9 months, I had hoped most of it would be cleaned up by now. I expected to see some downed trees. What I saw on the western side of the park was absolute devastation. The only way to see the water from the top of Stanley park was to go to Prospect Point or down from the seawall, not now. I had never seen it from the road due to the thick lush green forests that towered all around, but I saw the ocean today, the forest was but sticks and splinters.
West side of Prospect Point and where Dodie and I used to smoke.

My first tear fell when we came around the bend approaching Prospect Point and I looked to the left and I saw the blue sky. The forest that stood there was gone. I had always connected that specific stand of trees as mine and Dodie’s (the daughter who warned me not to go) we had often snuck into the wooded area together to sneak away from the prying eyes of tourists to smoke a dube before we went hiking at the Hollow Tree. We had on one occasion been surrounded by racoons who thought we were there to feed them (I never feed wild animals) and we were all fried and freaked out and went running back to my Jeep. It’s all gone now, the trees, the animals and even the eagles who were roosting there. Not one tree is left standing in the specific patch of trees, it reminded me of the clear cuts I see when I go camping way out in the mountains. Going further around the bend I noticed that the whole slope was devastated. I began to sob then. My husband drove in silence, just shaking his head, even he couldn’t believe what he saw. This was one of the only times we did not park and go walk around the point and look over at the Lions Gate Bridge.
Me and the Hollow Tree Dec 2003 and The Hollow Tree 1891.

We kept going until we reached the Hollow Tree, even she did not escape damage, the top was gone once again. The Hollow Tree is a famous landmark 5.5 metres in diameter and the largest in diameter dead or alive in the whole park and the most photographed spot in the park. The main tree died long ago due to lightning strike, but its off shoots survived to grow and were themselves hundreds of years old. The tops are all gone now.
Bob and my nephew in the Hollow Tree 2006 and A picture from today.

But my main goal was within reach and the reason I braved to enter the park in the first place; my annual mushroom hunt. Yes the kind of mushroom that make you smile, and in my case make me incredibly horny too. I went to the same spot I’ve found them every year since my first year here in the city. I found them my first fall here six years ago and kept their exact whereabouts a family secret. A gift from the Mother, a gift of laughter, smiles and warm fuzzy feelings. I only pick enough for me, an odd treat to get me through the depressive days of winter when my moods crash, it’s the earths most natural antidepressant (ok hallucinogenic too,,, Ooo pretty colours). I eat three little ones now and then, and put on a not so fake smile. I froze what I brought home, enough for 6 small trips to Allyson’s wonderland in the dead of winter. Anyways...

All in all 40% of the trees where effected throughout the park and along the western edge 60% was lost with Prospect Point being the worst hit.
60% of the forests on the right hand side of both these photos are gone now.

I grieve as much for the rest of the earth and what is happening to her. Due to global warming BC is facing it’s worst outbreak of mountain pine beetle. The infestation has been devastation. I first saw the wide spread devastation on my travels to and from Alaska. It’s heart breaking to see so much death. It hasn’t been getting cold enough to kill them off enough to get them under control and the ministries practices of not allowing natural burns to take place, leaving the forests susceptible to disease. Not to mention what is happening on a global scale. I just can’t handle all of it, so I focus on the things closer to home.

I could probably go on for ages about this, but I find it too upsetting and frankly I’d rather spend more time writing about things I enjoy. So I will leave it up to the experts.

In closing I’d like to say that I have been a very fortunate person to have seen some of the most amazing sights, traveled in places few have gone and I’ve had the opportunity to spend time in some of Canada’s most beautiful spaces.
Yup That's Me!

I always respect the places I go. I often bring out more garbage than I take in and I NEVER leave even the smallest scrap of garbage behind. I leave every site either the same way I found it or in better condition. Please respect the places you go to for others to enjoy, get involved in cleaning up your communities and conserve where you can.
The view at the top of Burnaby Mountain 5 minutes from my home.

THE ASTRONAUGHTY EXPOSED!

2007-10-11T18:32:00.000-07:00

OK here it is as promised, another one of our poems sparked by the Burlesque show at Rhizome's.
See previous post. He she's and let me see's.

PAUL wrote...

A Different Planet Body.

A Parody to: The Astronaughtys.

The female astronaughty left her lover,
lounging in a warm bath on Mars to explore a different planet.
She had read reports of such a place when she was but a girl,
and yearned to give it a whirl around the sun.
She had seen pictures of its pink surface,
and was entranced by its beauty,
and wondered if she would be granted,
a panted, patented petted, vetted, sweated entrance,
into the ways of the Planet of the Burlesque is more.
Leaving Mars far behind the times,
she jumped into hyperspace like lightning from Zeus' eyes,
crackling with energy to spend it in all one day.
She popped out of hyperspace,
like a champagne cork in the hands of a courtesan,
hovering over the pink and mauve clouded planet.
She left the mother ship in her shuttle,
to seek out the scuttle butt,
the straight skinny-dipping the cat's meow and pajamas,
on what gives all the way,
under the diaphanous shroud of the planet.
The shuttle landed like a spread eagle, eager for beaver tail,
to flail within an nine inch nail.
The lady astronaughty stepped from the shuttle,
and took off her helmet,
since her sensors told her the air here was refreshing.
It was night on this surface of the planet,
and the natives were restless,
within spitting distance she espied with her brown eye,
a trio of the aliens, engaged in some fertility rites,
two beating a driving wild rhythm on drums between their knees,
looking only at the other as if the drum was the other.
Before within the landscape of throb created by the percussion,
gyrated-x a dancer prancing and swaying,
her hair tied up in pig-tails,
interweaved with multi-colored ribbons,
her body barely clad in a black material which shined,
the dancer's body heaved like clouds being born,
her eyes dark as obsidian, her smile bright as a diamond,
she said to the astronaughty, “hello sexy,”
and in her high heels did a somersault,
away from the astronaughty flashing her split sex,
like a bolt of lightning.
The female astronaughty licked her lips lusciously,
the drumming humming a dinger, the dancer,
who told the astronaughty,
her name translated into your tongue means April Showers,
took her by the hand and they swirled together like cotton candy,
like a flock of starlings,
like a warm breeze through palm trees, spinning like tops off.
“You are new here,
and our planet must know you mean no harm,”
whispered April, like a gentle shower,
into the Astronaughtys ears.
“How do I clear my name?” She asked,
chest heaving like a surf on an Africa shore,
“you must let the whole planet see you share our customs,”
replied the dancer shash-saying.
“How” she asked confused,
letting her lead, the proof of the pudding is in the eating,
and we have a video link to all our world's playstations,
sighed the smiling dancer.
Ally the astronaughty quivered,
as the dancers meaning dawned on her like the sun,
“I yearn to learn,”
her heart racing like a cheetah on the edge of a dark continent.
With a robot camera floating above their heads,
transmitting every close-up image,
to the four corners of the Planet of the Burlesque,
April strip searched the astronaughty,
she left no stone unturned,
she uncovered every hidden a-gender-a,
as the drummers continued the beat themselves up.
When she was naked as a jay bird is long,
the dancer placed Ally on a work-out bench of sorts,
padded comfortably Ally lay on its Y shape,
her legs spread open.
April peeled off her dress like an orange,
letting her globes bounce free and clear,
dear to behold and hold on tight.
Ally could see the scene,
on a user-friendly-giant screen tv in her line of sight.
She held on tight,
for a jump into hyper space of a different kind.
April kneeled before Ally's altar,
altered state the obvious,
and massaged her thighs to the rhythm of the drums.
Ally could see on the tv April's mischievous face,
with a pussy-eating grin to get in hit, get on with it.
On the monitor she saw a close up of her yearning bush,
with April poised to strike like a snake up Ally's ladder,
April's tongue licked out like a fish to water,
attacking the problem head with bell's on.
Ally's cry echoed through the planet's playstation,
this alien was going native.
Her pigtails bobbing like Christmas ornaments,
April licked Ally's pussy like it was a giant stamp,
Ally grabbing the dancer's hair for dear life the fullest,
watched a close up of the tongues path,
on the giant screen tv.
The drums filled her ears,
as April filled her quim with vim to the brim,
with her variable tongue, stage 1, twister, sister-blisters.
April unfolded Ally's pussy as if it were a map,
to better improve her excellent sense of direction,
tracing with her fingers the highways and bi-way to the major city,
pretty in tickle her fancy pink centres of the earth woman.
April homed in on Ally's clit, with a sally, of precision,
guiding sweet-meat-heat-seeking-out-new-worlds missile,
to pucker up its fissile material to split,
don't know her from Adam's apple,
to set off a unchained reaction,
Ally squealing like a NASCAR peeling rubber,
screaming like a dentist's drill.
Ally see-sawed the picture on the tv,
of April kneeling between her naked thighs,
April's ass showing off,
her head pressed into Ally's snatch,
worshiping her like a ship about to sink,
in a monsoon of loony tune poon pooning, out go the lights.
Writhing like going down electric cables,
sweet April's tongue spun a tale of derriere-do-me
on in through, with within, without a doubt about it,
her satin soft face giving face, saving face,
showing Ally's best face foaming at the second mouth,
balling her tiger eyes put eat out.
The waves of pleasure radiating out of her,
like sunbeams on high,
April's tongue,
did a striped down to basics, clit tease out all the threads,
showing, getting off,
spinning arabesques whirli-whirli-gigidy-gig-girly-girly,
Ally screaming her head off.
April Showers lifted her power-fulfilling mouth,
from the astronaughtys pussy smiling,
and said, “I haven't had this much fun,
since captain Kirk blasted off.”

ALLY replied...

Going where no woman has gone before,
April brought her see-shore to see-shore,
a-washing the naughty-astronaughty with waves,
of glee in all she could see at her great divide.
Seeing her tongue slither like a snake,
inside her cave of wonders,
Ally nearly fainted as it played a tune,
and kept up with the beat of the drums.
Singing a song of sixpence, Ally’s voice rang out,
into the purple hues of the night sky,
sucking her clit she slid fingers in agin,
making her ache-quake-quiver and shake.
Ally’s voice was heavier in the thick air,
and she sounded off like a bull horn,
as she came in her rain of terror,
April showers had made her flowers bloom.
Laying dazed, amazed and crazed in her haze,
She felt a hot push in her bush, “Oh” she sighed,
“What wonderful creatures on this small planet,”
“A” sexual? Bisexual? A he-she she did see.
What a delightful surprise under-her-ware,
she rode her like a man never could or would,
feeling her engorged sex fuck-her-like-an-animal,
bucking up to meet each thrust with force.
Watching the screen, filling her katz-eyes till full,
oh what rapturous delight at this night,
such an amazing race dwelled in this place,
to never feel shame but allow the pleasures that be.
For all could see, and were amazed at her surprise,
“such a strange creature to be all woman and not both,
and oh what sounds she makes as pleasure peaks,
we must send for more of these wanton wonders.”
Fucking to the rhythm and pounding of the drums,
they beat fasted, faster, harder, harder, as did the two,
their bodies fit just right and as April came,
she just mewed and purred as she shuddered.
Licking her clean and helping her dress,
the astronaughty back in her suit so taut,
said her praise and thanks with a steamy kiss,
sucking her tongue with a farewell to the.
She arrived at her mother ship dizzy with delight,
set off for Mars to pull her lover from the bath,
to take he and her back down to earth,
for earth is by far the most earthy pleasure.

He/She's and let me see's.

2007-10-10T13:19:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite blogs Lust Bites had some fun postings this week and funny enough two separate topics tied in to one experience I had. I decided to do a spin off, I hope no one minds, but I wanted to post some pix of the night in question and I wanted to put them here as I have been picking up too much spyware from photobucket.

Earlier in the week we talked of voyeurism and exhibitionism. Today the topic was about men who dress as women.

Back in April I had the opportunity to perform my standup comedy with a group of men/women doing a burlesque show. It was held at an upbeat gay bar in downtown Vancouver. It was the best time I'd had in years and it will always be fun to look back and remember that night. The men in drag were all so awesome. We did our standup comedy show 1st. Then they did their burlesque show, with the loud music and the buzz in the air we were all dancing with them. OK I was, I had met my friend there and he being in a wheel chair with a large respirator on the back, we were almost on the stage as there was not much room elsewhere and so with me standing by his side the music of course had me bouncing all over. Lastly was a pair of lesbians who played the most hypnotic African drum music. Watching these two gals playing their drums, the way they stared at each other the whole time they played together was very erotic, it was so hot.

That night my friends and I had a blast. Not to mention the ton of Jim Beam and Jack Daniels I was downing like water, then the fact that my other friend Jen had to practically hold me up and drag me off to her place via bus and skytrain. OK she did literally. My hero.

That night sparked a frenzy of writing between my friend and I for the next few days, we were in the habit of writing erotic poetry to each other as a form of correspondence and I will post some of it below, I've also posted other poems of ours in some of my past postings. Here is a taste of my night at Zhizome's.

ALLY wrote...
She snuck up from behind,
breathing soft in his ear so dear,
lick with a flick of her tongue,
along the vein of his neck, threatening to devour him.
Straddling and rocking to the beat,
of the primal African drumming humming,
her dark amber eyes aglow with the flow,
plunging his soul with lustful looks.
Taking his face in her hands gripping,
she sucks and plucks a bottom lip,
then a top lip, to sip and whip with a flip,
of her tongue before she drowns him with it.
Slipping her hot wet prod while he nod back,
she devours his mouth, sweet, treat, with heat,
searing his body with a kiss from the miss,
to make him want her wanton, wanting me.

The beat bangs at their ears,
while they bang on with cheers all around them,
the cat on him claws and yehaws,
as she rides the cuntrymusic like a bull horn.
Giving him a teat so sweet,
“Suck it my baby, suck, your in luck, I like to fuck!”
“While you have a mouthful, don’t speakeasy,
just please-me, please-me, squeeze-me.”

The drums get loud , thunder in the crowd,
they boom through the gloom of haze,
and come to a peak as they squeak,
together as one, they are done.
The crowd applauds.

APRIL SHOWERS

PAUL wrote...

Burlesque.
She did the splits for his gymnastics to take a spin on,
the light fantastic, licking slick to the quick, flicking,
tricking with treating, when eating the meting out,
of just, lust, desserts, asserting,
flirting, flounting, floating, on a flow,
of wow, now, do it now and how,
bring me low to sing me high C's, climbing to the trees.

Limbs akimbo doing the conga line and mambo,
our heads spinning with winning, twinning of minds meld,
like vulgar Vulvacans in heat, to greet,
the feat first in your class of titans, clashing,
crashing, thrashing, stashing, tongue lashing,
eyelashes fluttering like doves,
as I give your buns a buttering, as I shove from above,
stashing my shaft in your treasure chest cresting the breasts,
waving hello sailor as I tailor each lunge,
to your slick slave to your needs to be naughty women poem.

Pour in my cement, mix it up with the lynx minx
on the brink of blinking,
out the doubts with shouts from the roof top of her mouth,
a shaking in her south land of milk and honey,
waving her tits like flags of surrender,
as he throws her into the blender,
she exclaims his name of fame,
“Oh Jack! Oh Jack Daniels you came, you saw, you conquered.”
They dissolve in a cloud of laughter resolved.

ALLY replied...

Jimmy Beam.
Another night of romping through the raindrops of lick-her,
she espied Jim Beam as she fancied, prancied in the door,
with want of four on the floor, him in her door,
and a night of dining and whining.
Jim said “hey girl hows it hangin” as she grabs him by the balls,
and says “low n slow baby.”

Taking him to the back room with a booth,
with a tooth she pulled his zipper down,
and ripped his mean jeans off to see what he offered in his coffer.
“Twill do” she exclaimed as she pulled her dress above her head,
to show her wares with no under-wares.
Pushing him to sit in the seat while she was in heat of the night,
impassioned for his palate,
she climbed up on the table and spread the fine meal before him,
to dine out while she shout dirty everything’s at him.
Jimmy explored her back roads and inner cities,
while feeling up titties,
splashing through the puddles she was making,
running a muck, so perchance he could fuck.
She slithered on the table like an eel being eaten by the tail.
The screaming dinner bell rang out,
as she clanged her triangles tune,
wanting more but knowing she craved four on the floor,
with Jimmy’s beam driving his four by four.

Turning the table he pulled her and flipped her like a flapjack,
bending her over, and rammed her in her gear,
with his stick shift in all wheel squeal,
and laid into her with great thrust.
As she lay top half on the table,
spread eagle with her beagle bared,
he took hold of her hip and shoulder,
gripping her like tarmac, ramming her, grinding her gears.
“Fuck me like an animal Jimmy Beamer,
I wanna feel you from the inside,
this crazy bitch can’t get enough of you.” she sneered.
He drove her home and onward to the finish line,
wreaking havoc on her behind,
slamming it into gear, threatening to drop her transmission.
“Life in the fast lane feels so fine”,
they both chimed as they got off, at the next stop.

Tomorrow I will post another fairly long poem. I am still shocked we wrote it, it is so raw and unlike anything I've written. It has our burlesque he/she friend April Showers in it and plenty of voyeurism and exhibitionism.

2007-10-09T13:27:00.000-07:00

On October 15th - Blog Action Day, bloggers around the web will unite to put a single important issue on every one's mind.
In its inaugural year, Blog Action Day will be co-ordinating bloggers to tackle the issue of the environment.

Hey peeps. Get involved and show how you can do your part. Together we can all make a difference. What many people don't realized, is that just "you" can make a difference too. No action is too small as long as you act.

So come back on October 15th and see what I have to say. Comment on this blog and I will come see what you have to say too.

I have plenty to give thanks for.

2007-10-07T23:43:00.000-07:00

Well it is that time of the year again.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of my Canadian friends.

I am so lucky when thanksgiving comes, because it gives me the opportunity to be thankful for all I have.

My son Richard was born on Thanksgiving day 18 years ago. I am thankful for him, for his health and for the fact that we both survived the teen years. Oh shit wait, he has two more to go. Ah heck, he lives on his own, has had a full time gruelling job for over a year and is happy in his life. I am proud and happy for him.

I am also thankful for my other children.
Max my rockin oldest son at 21, he is the one screaming into the mic on the right hand side. He is working on an internship at a local music studio where he is learning to be a music producer, following his dreams and working a real full time job on top of that as a forklift operator. I am thankful for his health and happiness, and for the fact he can follow his dreams.

My step-daughters Christine and Doris 30 and 25. I am thankful that I can consider them mine with all my heart, that they are all healthy and happy in their lives. They are wonderful Moms and I feel so blessed with the 3 grandsons and my granddaughter that my 2 daughters have blessed our family with. I am thankful all of the babies are healthy and that they love their Granny. I am thankful there is another one on the way. Giddy with happiness here.

I am thankful to be loved.

I am thankful I am not as ill as I have been in the past and I am relatively happy with my life right now.

I am thankful for all the Mother gives to me on her bountiful earth, the food I eat, the beauty I have had the opportunity to be awed by and her fauna she has allowed me to see and experience.

I am thankful that I have been blessed with being empathic and have the ability to love anyone unconditionally, I can help those who need me and that I can have this sacred connection to all life.

I am thankful for my sexual appetite. Or my poor toys would be so lonely and I would never have had the desire to write what I write nor have the chance to change the path of my life so late in life.

I am thankful for all those I consider friends, especially my Internet friends. You have all given me strength, encouragement, have been there when I felt alone and have mentored me. You are all an inspiration to me.

I GIVE THANKS TO THE DEVINE SPIRIT AND THE MOTHER EARTH FOR EVERYTHING THEY HAVE BLESS MY LIFE WITH.

Where do they find them?

2007-10-04T00:36:00.001-07:00

Where do they find these awesome hot men for eye candy? Take a look at some of the most popular gay male blogs and websites that's where. Who gives a hoot if they are gay (hot to me anyway), bi, straight, crooked, bent, sideways... whatever. I went to a blog someone pointed out to me a while back called The Great Cock Hunt. My jaw dropped it was so hot. So after surfing around some of the links from that blog I stumbled across Gay Sourcing dot com and went to the galleries and, and,,, oh man, I mean ah men. All of them quite yummy. Why am I not a male model photographer? OK, I am going to cut this blog short because I have some dreams and fantasies to get to. Did I ever mention I like em dirty sweaty, muddy, smokey, shingle dusted. Just thought I'd remind you.

OH BOYZZZ!
IT'S BED TIME!
;P

Ok Ok so I fucked up. What else is new.

2007-10-02T22:21:00.000-07:00

OK FINE! Yes... I allowed myself a night and day to wallow in my own self pity. One night of drunken, stoned out of my face, whining to my best friend and kick the asshole hubby out, gave myself one day to recoup and I set forth on a new day. Whew, that was rather long winded wasn't it (you ain't seen nuttin yet eh...).

So anyhoo, today I spent most of my day making up for last words, I mean lost words... I managed to cover some 2070 words today. Yes manic me is so productive, especially when I am hell bend on a goal.

Ally's favorite drink recipe,,,
Homemade pina coladas,

16 oz glass half filled with ice cubes,
1 packet of sugar twin or three spoons of pure cane sugar,
a glug glug glug of rum,
a glug or a few tblsp of coconut milk,
top it up with some pineapple juice,
stir and drink like you haven't a care in the world(fuck the blender, it's too noisy).
J.D., Jim Beam and Royal Canadian Rye Whiskey straight up also works well, when used profusely.

Winks atcha!

2007-10-01T15:41:00.000-07:00

Well I made my biggest stupid mistake last night. I had been working on my new book and was done for a bit, so I selected (highlighted) all of the text below my outline to get a word count. I have been up dating my word counter on my blog, I had given myself a goal of 500word per day, so when I went to my blog I opened another file to copy and paste something else. Sufficed to say is that when I was done doing what I was doing I went to close my document and I saved it no realizing that the selected text was not saved in it. I have been doing other things catching up on stuff, and when I was done I was going to continue writing for the rest of the night. So when I opened my book document I just sat and stared.

Only my outline was saved and I took a major anxiety attack. My husband was over visiting and he’s asking me what’s wrong and all I could do was gasp for air, I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t talk, man was I ever choked, it took awhile and two ativan to calm me down enough just to speak. But when I found my voice I bet he’d wish I hadn’t, I began to freak right out, sob, scream, throw things. In my little rampage I kicked the ex out, I called the tech depts, scoured my help menus, drove myself nuts. I have some of my book on paper, what I had written by hand when I am not near my computer totaling about 1500 words that were already added and I have another 3000 that had not been entered yet, but only a small portion of that had been added already so just bits and pieces. The whole beginning is gone, a major scene is wiped out, so from the 3910 and minus the material that was in my notebook approx 1500 words, I guess all in all I lost close to 2400 words. I immediately sat down to try and recover some of the conversations from my jumbled mind , but then my support system came running, a neighbour brought a dubbie, a taxi brought me a bottle of rum, my girlfriend brought me her hugs and within an hour I was stoned and pissed drunk (rum tastes disgusting straight up). I was passed out by 11pm and off to lala land. So I guess I learned a very valuable lesson. Every time you save it, save it as a different name so that you will always have copies you can go back too in just such an emergence. All in all I lost 5 days worth of writing, allowed myself a mini crash, was reassured my friends will be there for me when I flip out, and even my daughter showed up in the morning to see if I was ok. So this week I intent to do less blogging and write my ass off until I am satified that I have recovered some of what I remember writing. AGGGHHHHH That’s all I have to say about that :oP~

LMAO,,, I just reviewed this and realized I wrote this when still a bit drunk. Please excuse my spelling errors. It seems I am unable to use a spell checker when intoxicated. Lala...

This Blog's for you Mum.

2007-09-27T01:56:00.000-07:00

Today's Blog Dedicated to My Mum

Today is my Mothers birthday, Irene Viva Runa Krueger. It's a rarity for me to even realize when her birthdays arrive. Had she survived to old age she would be turning 65 today. She died very young, only 38 and I was but 14 when she was taken.

After so many decades I've stopped setting aside days to grieve and remember her when the mood strikes me and I now only grieve for her when I am in my most vulnerable and deepest of depressions. I feel closer to her now than I did back then. She was at a loss as to how to deal with me, an undiagnosed bipolar teenager, she suffered far greater trauma than I at the hands of her mental illness. Treatments and stigma surrounding her illness either kept her isolated within our own family unit or hospitalized. She was far braver than I ever gave her credit for.

I was only able to finally connect with her a few years back and came to understand her on a level I never thought possible. It wasn't until I fell terribly ill and was wracked with the most mind boggling pain, the suffering I endured was like a light bulb going off and I suddenly was able to comprehend all she went through. With the pain came the end of my employment and the end of much that was dear to me, including my own sanity. I had always been able to struggle through my depressive phases and take advantage of my mania (all that time I just thought I was over bubbly), I was the breadwinner raising four children, debt up to my ears and quite used to being the dominant role in my household, I didn't have time to think about my own needs.

Suddenly finding my self physically disabled, no longer the dominant driving force within my family and being more idle than my mind could fathom, it didn't take long before the rest of me followed suit and I began to feel as desperately hopeless as I know my Mum felt, after the leg injury that kept her in constant pain. I'm lucky that I've learned how to withstand my pain, eat it and allow it to slip past the reaches of my mind without drugs. I am equally lucky to have a somewhat dependable support system.

After my mother died I lost the rest of my family and left home at 15, so I created my own family, this family keeps my head above the water. I raised my children with the full knowledge of what mental illness does, how to cope with it, understand it and accept it as a normal part of their lives when it came to understanding me, my moods, my crashes, my spontaneous nature. They in turn remind me when I am spiraling in either direction, constantly reassure me and I in turn keep close tabs on them and what happens in their lives. My kids have always come to me even with the most embarrassing and difficult problems knowing they would find support and acceptance.

I know my mother loved me deeply, she gave her life with hopes to save me from my own self destruction when she quit drinking. She drank because of the pain, physical and emotional, she faced criticism and stigmatism at every turn, especially within her own family. When she became sober her body just plain couldn't deal with it and within weeks her body refused to fight anything and a simple cold claimed her in a matter of 12 hours.

When she died I was too young to understand that she had not abandoned me, that she had not just given up and allowed death to claim her. I know better now, I understand her now, myself as well and I am grateful for the time I had with her, although it was short. I am sorry it took me so long to "get it", I can't regret the fact that I had to learn my lessons the hard way. Had my life not turned so dramatically, I wouldn't be sitting here writing, nor would I have written a novel, nor would I have the foggiest clue as to what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

I am no longer a bartender making 3 to 4 grand a month, I may be poor at the moment, but now I am feeling more productive and I have more hope than I ever had before.

Thankyou for the lessons Mum. I love you. Happy Birthday.

PS, Friends and fellow bloggers, you've seen the funny, horny, creative me, welcome to the dramatic side of me.
;)~

New Beginnings

2007-09-25T00:22:00.000-07:00

I began my next book this weekend. I spent many hours yesterday doing some research on the location where I want it to take place. Man I tell you Google Earth is an amazing tool. I spent a good 4 hours researching today as well, until I finally decided on the Spatsizi Plateau Wilderness Park in northern BC.

The area has been described as the Serengeti of Canada, the Spatsizi is the largest roadless preserve in British Columbia, more than 1.6 million acres (650,000 hectares) encompassing the headwaters of the Stikine, to the native Tlingit it is simply known as the Great River. John Muir (1879) called it a Yosemite a hundred miles (160 kilometers) long, counting 300 glaciers along its tortuous course. He described that it's a land where Canada could hide England, and the English would never find it.

This book will be filled with heroic adventure. The hero and heroine will be forced to survive in the back country of the Spatsisi wilderness after a float plane crash. The hero is a business man who never so much as camped out in his own backyard. The heroine is a woman trained in bush craft and survival skills. Their personalities clash, but I am sure they will find love and lust. Don't you?

I have only begun the outline, saved a ton of research on the area and wrote the 1st 1000 words. I will have so much more research to do and I will be grateful for the 1st nations friends I keep, especially my bush craft training expert friend. I am sure he will get a kick out of it.

So that's it for now. 1am and it's bedtime. I am going to try to keep my goals set at 500 words per day, minimum 2500 per week. I am sure it will fluctuate as I will have so much research to do, but I will have fun I am sure.

Oh My Gawwwwwd!

2007-09-20T23:17:00.000-07:00

Scott Elrod. It just rolls of my tongue. Yes the name rolls off my tongue, the rest is up to my imagination. Is there such a thing as starstruck at first sight? If I ever write a piece of fan fic, you can almost bet he will be the one I write about.

Fuck me gently. No,,, I take that back, Fuck me hard! Now bitch! Agghh.

I sat down tonight to watch the first show of this seasons Greys Anatomy, of course I balled my eyes out. Yes that show never fails to make me laugh my ass off and also cry. I am thinking, OK that's my TV for the week, but the remote is not in my reach. With book in hand, I decide to hell with it, I'll read while the TV is on, usually I play music non stop all day. I am settled back reading the new book I won from Sommer Marsden, Tie Me Up and really getting into the story Tiger Tiger, by Paige Roberts (OK getting really hot), when I realize the TV show currently on is "Men in Trees".

Deep sigh... Now I don't know how many Americans watch this show, but man, I feel lucky when I actually take the time to watch this one.

It's almost like going on a trip. The show is filmed in Squamish BC, one of my favorite day trips, in fact I am going there over night on Saturday to sleep at my friend Rainy's, at her new trailer on the reservation right beside the Cheekeye River. Oh I am going to have sweet dreams this weekend.

Anyhoo. I am all hot and bothered by the story and I look up to see a living god on TV, yes Scott Elrod. Well didn't I have to put the book down to bite my lips and squeal like a teen aged girl. Man where the fuck do they find these men for this show. They are all so hot, and to think they all hang out in Vancouver in some hot little bar not so far away, I don't think you can find them at the Chieftain Hotel (oh but a girl can dream eh).

Oh well I guess that will be two hours of TV a week until the end of the season. Man, the sacrifices a girl must make to get a little imagery play happening. Oh I've had many others I fantasize about, but this Scott Elrod is so hot (please, someone fetch him an axe), I couldn't help myself, hehe. My last crush on a star was good ole Captain Jack Sparrow (heeeere cums Johnny), but that was during the 1st movie. Since then I've been focusing thoughts on men who are teasingly close enough to be within my reach, yet still out of my grasp. Boy I have a penchant for torturing myself.

My book Psychic Passions is now in the clutches of the stranger I hired to edit it for me. That's scary, but I will be happy with the corrections in punctuation, I know they are sadly needed. Since my hero in that one was a cowboy at heart, me thinks, perhaps the next will be an outdoorsman of sorts (yes I'm majorly hot for outdoorsmen) or a helpless city boy stuck in the woods with an outdoorswoman, hmmm.

Men in Trees is supposedly set in Alaska, NOT, I can spot the Stawamus Chief in an instant, I could probably even paint it in my sleep, so I think my next setting will be somewhere in northern BC. Ooo, I spent the night once in a rangers tower on top of Cornwall Hill, wow, the view of the forests and mountains from all around. Hmm wouldn't that make a nice place to get stranded.

Wow, I love men that are sweaty, hot, smelly and dirty, grrrrr. Oh how I like to manhandle them, womanhandle, ravage, what ever.

See, this is why I don't watch much TV.

An older poem of mine and Paul's from the beginning of our poetry correspondence.

2007-09-16T02:26:00.000-07:00

This poem is, I think the third or fourth poem that Paul and I cunt-cock-ted from way back, when we first began to correspond by poetry. I will submit this whole book one day. It's 80 pages thus far and we've done more since. But I've been too busy with other things. So I thought I post something to keep my friends entertained.

“Paul”wrote,

The Yellow Mellow Cock-Tale-Server.

There once was a come-ly-dian, who made Paul,
stand up straight in her narrows,
like an arrow hitting the cow's weeping eye.
Time flies so fast, lets put everything in slow motion,
to drag it out as long as it can-can dance in the dark.
“You definitely were on top,
and on top of your and my form,
your own conclusions most fitting last night my friend.”
One good turn of phrase deserves another.

The cocktail server loved to serve cock on a silver platter,
as her tail was served right over the night,
with the skill of a champion tennis playher fiddle.
She reserved the right to enthuse service,
with humdigger synergy.
He massages her with messages,
as slowly as an ice age,
growing her nipples into pyramids,
did I pass the taste test,
and pin a pearly medal on each breast?
He fed her last night a vanilla milk shake rattle and roll,
she too, him to the backside of rebelief,
and found him wanting.
He lapped up every word that came out of her pussy's mouth, they did laps around their one track minds.
“If you found yourself castaway on a dessert island,
with a pirate what would you make him do?
Dig for treasure at X-rated marks the g-spot,
sis-boom-magic-box?”
“She has a piece of rubyfruit pie,
baking between her thighs, should we start?”
We desert by parting the rind with our dirty minds.
Of course he's ready for lift-get-off from the get-some-go,
to thrust his rocket into her woman in the moon,
and take her, make her see shooting stars.
But time flies,
so “lets go as slow as coral grows off the coast of Australia.”
His words were chilling,
they made her nipples grow into pyramids.
“The things that come out of your mouth,
make me want to come in your mouth,”
then concentrated it into his hands,
and he slid his fingers through her long dark hair,
like a gentle tropical waterfall.
She pulled her dress up,
like raising a curtain at a burlesque show,
and tell all, “if we're having dessert,
lets do it right and on the money,
shot your wad on the kitchen table,
I'll pull up a chair and part your hair down the middle,
and play your pussy like a fiddle.”
She sat on the table and pulled up her curtain,
her thighs as open as her mind's eye of the tiger,
he pulled up a chair,
and rudely stared starry eyed at her prize,
where he kissed inside each knee
making her shimmer like a flag in a breeze,
he massages her thighs with his palms,
memorizing every hair and purple fold,
like a great sonnet wanting to unwrap her,
like a Christmas present.
He traced the infinity symbol on the inside of her thighs,

“gotta run off at the mouth...

“Ally”responded,

Gee my yellow mellow cloud,
usually comes in the form of Valium or Lorazepam,
glad I can have that drugging effect,
if only it worked on all men like that,
oh what a following of wagging tails I’d have now,
but alas those days of delighting tails who hunger pole dancing,
is in the past and fading further away as the years go by.
Although I still can-can do my version of the can-can,
never in the dark cause I-wanna-see-see-saw it all,
but only lasts on top now for a minute,
before the legs-legs fall and burn from the sky above me.
Tis funny you should mention pyramid formed breasts,
as that’s what mine look like now,
only pointing downward to the ground,
flat and have no longer a 3D dimension,
yet demented, still lovely to suckle.
Oh a gal would gladly accept a pirate,
and an island to ravage and feed her one track lap,
and knowing men like she does,
would have to guild him to the X,
as most men are too blind to spot the G.
I am sure he would pass the taste test,
as well as you with sweet coconut-juices.
Oh to feed you ruby-fruit pie,
in the tropical waterfalls of Australia,
as we bask on the coral sandy shore of for-get-me-not sand,
where not only the stars are shooting.
Another neat place to be marooned,
twood be Christmas Island,
where at every table twas a present just for you,
bearing fruity folds of-a-fiddle, each hidden,
behind silk curtains shimmering in the sun-light-breezes,
scented like jasmine and coconut-drink-my-milk.
Play my fiddle each would scream,
play it like the devil-went-down to my Georgia-bush.
When you win your present,
she will reward you with an inviting want-you-in-me prize,
where she will play your flute like a concerto,
in 3 different positions, to bog-your-mind glory.

Yes our little game of words-mind-body last night,
left my mind spinning and wanting as well, thankyou.
Who would have thought,
when I asked you to stimulate my mind and keep me entertained,
you would be so very up to the task.
Amazing abso-fuckin-lutely amazing.
Stimulating mind-breath-body-blood.
A treat among treats and a will-never-forget-me-not experience.

The dreaded synopsis.

2007-09-06T13:38:00.000-07:00

Synopsis

I've been working away at it. I wrote my short summary, teaser. Then a bigger one with a bit more info. Now I'm onto the "Big One".

I wrote *by hand* my 1st draft while away this past weekend. Fuck did I ever miss my keyboard, I kept wanting to backspace, and cut and paste, and move shit all over, but what I ended up with, was a scribbled mess that even I was lucky if I could decipher it. So I rewrote it so it would be legible in capitol letters, knowing I didn't want to have to fuck with each sentence for hours, once I began typing it into a new document when I got home.

But I'm fucking with it anyway! The 1st 2 pages has become 3. I don't want to push it to 10, so I'd better get less descriptive. But how do you do that without making it boring. Arrrrgggg.

Ye Frikkin Haw!

So how was your day?

Wild Wed Guest Madeline Moore

2007-08-31T14:37:00.000-07:00

Please come join me at The Romance Galleria on Wednesday September 5th 2007 at 9pm Eastern, 6pm Pacific, for Wild Wednesday. This Wild Wednesday’s feature guest author is Madeline Moore. Madeline is the Canadian erotic author of “Wild Card” and is published by Black Lace

New Myspace Account

2007-08-28T18:21:00.000-07:00

I have switched over to a new more professional, less personal myspace.

www.myspace.com/writingsandwrithings

For those of you who would like to join me please do. Feel free to add your shameless plugs in my comments section as long as it has something to do with literature etc. Fun and friendly comments are welcome too. The space is empty as I am just building it, but soon it will be full of bit n stuff n all that. Ya know? Eh?

A Few Shorts

2007-07-21T18:02:00.000-07:00

The Rendevous

The bright moon low on the horizon, perfectly casting light and shadow, showing the sinuous lines and bulk of the man she craved.

A rendevous on a hot night under the oak had made her quiver all day in anticipation.

From behind him, she slithered her hands up his taut back, down and around to his chest, to pinch and play with his nipples, feeling them harden.

His neck and arms stimulated, becomes goose flesh, hairs rise, as she runs her tongue up him to taste his sweat, smell his musky odor.

A full moon fuck, what a delight.

A Feast

She’s hot, fingers playing her fiddle. A knock at the door steals her heat, lowering her skirt she yells "come in".

A neighbour never desired before, but now she’s horny and hoping he can smell her lust.

He ask’s "Can I borrow some sugar."

"Not until you have a taste of my sugar." she cooed as she settled back lazily in the soft arm chair. She raised her skirt, parted her legs slinging one over the arm rest to show him a wet treat.

He dropped his sugar bowl and hungrily fell to his knees. He eagerly feasted.

Toes

I put my feet upon his lap, the movie sux. He massages my foot. "That feels good. Ow careful with my toe."

"Is this better?" Wrapping his mouth over my big toe sucking it, licking it moving slowly from toe to toe.

I’ve never felt a jolt of pleasure snake up my legs so swiftly, make my clit throbbing and instantaneously flooding my cunt with hot juices.

"That’s fucking amazing! Suck my pussy like that. Please?" Pulling up her skirt raising a leg to show her naked cunt for the taking.

Instead he drove his cock into her fiercely.

Response to a Smutty Poem

Oh we’re a devilish delight tonight,
such fuck me not so gently words you’ve spewed,
made me oo’d , ah’d,
I applaud you.

I am so wet,
could almost sweat, if it wasn't for the chill in my air.

An hour before, I had fun with my joy-toy,
before your wanton wording and flirting.

Now I wonder should I go take another ride,
slip-slide on my faux boy-toy.

Breathing has left me out of breath,
you steal it from my lungs,
writing of your guns and black hat,
eating me till I scream, dream,
and how I am so fucking fuckable.

Written by: Ally Robertson

PSYCHIC PASSIONS

2007-06-29T14:08:00.000-07:00

Cassidy came up beside her and said ‘I hate it when she picks on you like that, are you going to be ok?’

Caprice turned to face him crying, ‘Why do you want to know, you don’t really give a shit.’

‘Ya I do. Why would you say that?’ he said. Taken aback by her unexpectedly lashing out at him he felt a sudden pang of hurt. Cassidy was having a hard enough time lately and had been thinking about her a lot. Feeling hurt by her words made him realize just how much he had come to admire her, desire to be near her.

She questioned him mockingly ‘Oh ya, well if you cared so much you would have been caring enough to return my calls and emails, instead of ignoring me and making me feel so disregarded? Did you not think your silence might hurt me in someway, and why the fuck did you even bother to send me that email and then not have enough respect to even read my response?’ Caprice could see the hurt from her hostile feelings cross over his face, she really didn’t want to project all that hostility back at him, but it was too late. She thought, Fuck I hate being bipolar. When will I ever learn to just shut up and let shit pass.

Although he never really wanted to express the truth for his unanswered phone messages and emails, he roughly took her by the hand, ignoring the unapproving glares of the other two artists, pulled her out the door, and out the exit as he said ‘I gotta talk to you privately about this.’ while almost dragging her to the park across the street.

Her hand was burning, so aware of his touch she wanted to cry out. He led her to a far shaded corner of the park out of ear shot from strangers. He swung her around to sit her on a bench, facing her standing, he leaned over her less than a foot from her face. His hands were placed on each side of the bench as if to not let her escape and had perched a leg up on the bench beside her.

Caprice felt trapped, her heart was pounding and mind racing, ranting. Is he going to tell me off? Maybe now I can forget him if he hurts my feelings. Please say what I want to hear, please say what I don’t want to hear. Oh my gawd I’m going to pass out before he speaks.

She searched his face, holding her breath. Those eyes, those old familiar eyes of long ago reached down into her soul and grasped at her. She was on the precipice ready to fall. He seemed a bit angry as he spoke, but her mind was reeling at his words, she thought, this cant be true.

Staring her down he said ‘I do care Caprice, in fact I care very much. So much I guess that I just couldn’t allow myself to encourage your friendship and advances. I felt them, I know you want me, I can feel your need and desire for me. Lately I’ve been wanting you too, fuck, I’ve wanted to reach out for you, hold you, but I know myself, and I’ve come to know you enough to understand that if you were to have me, it would result in me emotionally ripping you to pieces. I am wild, untamed, I have a coke habit, I have schizophrenia and I would end up taking you and your sensitive heart, shred it to pieces and eventually break you!’

As Cassidy said these words Caprice began to sob, she was trembling. Then with startling force she grabbed the front of his shirt, stared up at him and said in a choked voice with her tears freely flowing ‘Can’t you see I’m already broken?’

His face went almost pale watching her face scrunch up in such a painful grimace and she could see the conflict behind his mask. His masculine face scrunched at his brows fighting to keep his composure. He searched her eyes to find the truth, trying to see what it was that Caprice was seeing behind her eyes, deep in her mind. ‘Yes I can see that now. FUCK this is killing me!’ he gulped as he slammed his fist down on the seat of the bench beside her.

Suddenly he kissed her. Oh how he kissed her. She consumed his kisses with such hunger and need, her body tensed and her back arched as lightning bolts ran down her throat, through her stomach and into her groin overpowering her clit and vagina, the sudden rush of blood flowing so quickly that she experienced a mind orgasm, it was fast, pulsating, extremely brief, but an orgasm, made with the pure fury and passion of a single thought.

He felt her body tense and shutter and he stared at her, mystified that she could feel such desire and achieve such release with just his kiss. His lips dove on hers again, fierce, wanting to fuck her brains out right there, kissing her again and again with more and more passion, their tongues dance in their mouths, neither of them skipping a beat.

Their breathing became harsh gasps as they strained from their need, his one hand buried beneath her long soft hair, the other pulling down her bottom lip to allow deeper entry into her hungry mouth. She grasped at the base of his head, sucking his tongue deeper into her, her other hand was still clamped around his shirt holding herself closer to him.

Temporarily losing their minds in the heat of the moment, forgetting where they were, both of them mewing and moaning with their growing passion. Her nipples tightened into hard points and he groaned from his intense erection. Their nostrils flaring in and out as they breathed in and out like two horses going for the finish line. Heads swimming in their furious slaking.

Cassidy couldn’t take it any more and shaking, he slid a restless hand under her skirt expertly moving her panties aside as he plunged a few fingers deeply into her slick drenched pussy. Caprice nearly screamed but his mouth was so hard upon hers, crushing her that she only managed a muffled moan. With laboured breath, moving in time with his fingers while they probed deeper within her cunt he stroked her clit with his thumb making her squirm as she clawed at the button of his jeans, not caring who saw them, she wanted him, right there, right now.

Then suddenly Odessa angrily interrupted them, ‘What the fuck is up with this shit.’ she yelled as she approached from behind Cassidy. Caprice was disoriented, shaken at the sudden departure and was left almost breathless, her mind reeling and head spinning. Cassidy spun around guiltily, like he’d been caught doing something sinful. Had he? He thought. Hiding his wet fingers behind him and placing them in his back pocket to clean off any evidence he stood straight and met Odessa’s glare with shame written all over his flushed face.

Excerpt 2

My first blog "Oh My Gog!"

2007-06-28T22:50:00.000-07:00

I'm putting this here as a sample of the erotic poetry in the book that an anonomous friend (Paul) and I have collaborated on. I've finished the final edit, but as poetry can be hard to publish I think I may wait till my erotic romance novel is completed and published before I continue to break into the poetry market.

I decided to actually remove the following poems from our book as I did not want to step on anyone elses toes by publishing it. Our book is a collection of poems that either he or I would write the first rendition and then the other would compliment it by completing it. It was great fun creating them all. We decided to write this piece when a telephone conversation betrayed my passion for the TV show Grey's Anatomy. Enjoy!

"Paul" wrote.

Getting A Second Opinion.

She needed a specialist deeply, madly,
truly good to go all the way to Tipperary of the hat,
for what ails Ally.

Her curse worth the disease of men,
who never please other them themselves,
elves with dwarf cocks, mocking her silk stockings,
putting her out in the stocks for shock,
and aw shucks, fuck therapy.

She made an appointment, for ointment for her ornament,
or treatment for her,
lick-trickery tock the mouth ran up the cock cleaning clock,
she sat on the examination table of elements,
of surprise birthday present and accounted,

for square meals a day.

In came Dr. McSteamy to open her clam baking like a kiln,
inquiring minds want to know,
"What seems to be the problem Ms. R?"

Eyes fluttering like the butterflies in her tummy sighing,
she replied playing-doctor-fully,
"I think I'm suffering from a bad case of nymphomania."

"That's terrible, I feel for you," he answered,
"What makes you think you're a nympho?"

"Well Dr. McSteamy for starters I've only just met you,
but I want to suck your cock. What's up doc?"

"I'm going to exam you head to camel-toe,
thoroughly inside and outside,
and backside, out of your dirty mind on your blind G spot on."

Ms. R unbottoned her blouse squirming,
her beating bottom silver dollar, slowly revealing her breasts,
then she let the blouse fall from her shoulders,
like the scales from a Christian's eyes.

Her hard nipples begging for attention,
the zipper of her pants dropped like a stone,
and she wriggled out of them like a piece of,
Wrigley's spearmint chewing gum from its package.

She lay on the table for Dr. Mcsteamy,
to get to the root of the problem,
first testing, teasing, tasting her reflexes,
he twirled her nipples betwixt thumb and index,
dialing her knobs to get the right station in life,
he gave her a thorough breasts exam,
topping them off with deep suction.

His hands all over her like an army of horny peeping tomcat ants,
playing tic-tac-toe on her quivering belly with his tongue,
lower, he opened her up blooming rose, dewy in the morning.

She bit her lip as he parted her rosy lips,
to tip his tongue's hat trick on her slick,
starwberry shortcake, aching for baking,
making all get out of go to town down under the thunder.

She grabbed his head on,
held him closer then a G string her along ,
when he hit her right on the G spot,
grinding her pussy in his face like a watermill.

The good doctor didn't need to ask for directions,
to get down and around Ms. R's astounding downtown,
his fingers and tongue by turns hard as rock, soft as velvet,
unfolding her folds like origami, orgistic, organic orgasms.

Finished licking her lips, he raise his head licking his lips,
blood shot eyes, wet behind the ears, smiled and said,
"I'm going to page Dr. McDreamy we need a second opinion."

As quick as greased lightning Dr. McDreamy entered the room,
to see Ms. R spread out on the table,
ready willing and able, like an all-you-can eat buffet.

Reaching for his zipper Dr. McDreamy groaned,
"Now say ahhhhh!"

"Ally" replied.

She ahhed and oooed at what she sawed,
He pulled out the stirrups and placed her afoot,
Spreading her legs, she said "there is a Gawd,"
the hard thing betwixed his legs felt so gewt.

As McSteamy was stymied at her hot kiss,
McDreamy was drugged with her hot wet spot,
Ms. R was in sweet miz-R-E, and stretched in bliss,
excited at the idea of having both and being caught.

"I still wanna suck your cock Mc.Steamy what do you say?"
He raised an eyebrow, stood-on-a-stool, and served her pronto,
While Mc.Dreamy was still thrusting, pumping away,
both amused, they were both her side kick, like ‘Tonto.’

They both came at the same time in one shot,
She was filled with creamy Mc.Dreamy, Mc.Steamy,
both spilling them selves over, but each in a separate pot,
while high pitch noises squeaked out of her so screamy.

"We both concur that all here seems just fine,"
"Whom ever said you were a Nympho was dumb"
"Your body was responsive to our tasting of your wine"
"your body was a very healthy receptacle for both our cum"

"You are cured...please cum again!!!"

"Oh please may I?"