Six Sentence Sunday...

Welcome to another Six Sentence Sunday. Today we continue with our Mexican Stand-Off set in my Post-Zombie-Apocalypse world. These two are going to have to band together and start playing nice eventually, but not quite yet.

Our heroine has just asked the mysterious Englishman with his gun pointed at her what his name is...

  

 

     Pale blue eyes narrowed on her. He had the tall, dark and handsome thing going on though his face was a bit severe. Guess living the post apocalyptic dream did that to you. “We’re going to play get to know you?”

     “Why not?” Her back had started to ache and her arms were straining from holding the gun.

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The Art of the Over-Share and the Loss of Sexual Shame…

Hmm, what a topic to discuss. There have been a few funny moments on twitter and blogs lately that got me to pondering this topic. When is discussing your sex life (whether it be solo flights of fantasy or group activities) okay? When is it not? Does it even matter? If you’re a lady on the streets but a freak between the sheets then where is your point of over-share-no-return? Everyone has their own wince and flinch point. I write smut. High quality smut involving all sorts of deep apocalyptic notions and shot-gun action, but smut none the less. In an ideal world my father wouldn’t even know I’d ever written a book but I simply don’t have that level of care anymore. The older I get the less I mind what people think which is liberating. But whilst I talk about the writing to my father he is however banned  from reading it. There’s ménage and spanking and anal in there for goodness sake. He doesn’t need to see that sh*t. That is my wince and flinch point right there.

I imagine Magic Mike is going to be responsible for a lot of shame very soon.

Now, back to the topic at hand, people are wildly diverse when it comes to over-share. The thresholds can be fantastically low and high. What one person finds an entertaining silly story another will de-friend, de-follow and run for the hills never to utter that person’s name ever, ever again. What the culture at the time finds suitable for a public hearing is also mighty interesting. In the 17^th Century the act of masturbation was thought to be a far greater no-no than the torturing of someone could ever be. So whilst wanking was a mortal sin sticking a foe on the rack for a stretching was excusable now and then. Compare that to the highly public practice of pederasty in Ancient Greece where Older Men taught the younger lads sex, politics and how to keep your toga on straight throughout both, and you’ve got a window into the crazy scope of sexual shame throughout the ages. So because there is this diversity within individual people and from one culture to the next there’s never going to be any easy answer.

People who know sh*t say that the bulk of sex happening in the world is actually taking place between long term couples. Contemplate how much of that type of sex we actually see in movies lacking an X rating. Not really a lot, is there? Why so? Is it because it’s seen as too intimate? Perhaps it’s simply not dramatic enough. It is just what people do to have fun and enjoy each other’s company and a bunch of other things. As opposed to sex that stems from an affair or is right at the beginning of a relationship where the risks are high and the sex is advancing or changing the relationship, intimate relations between long standing couples lacks a certain fire cracker dynamic. I wonder if the same is true for masturbation?

Shame-wise there are two issues. The feeling you are doing something wrong or something that reflects badly on you. But then you’ve got the sense of shame that what you do is entirely appropriate but not the sort of thing that should be shared. It may well be that first sense of shame as applied to sex and masturbation should be excised from society and is in fact being slowly excised from society. But even if that’s right you still have the question of the second sense; given that it’s fine for you to be wanking (no shame in the first sense) that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s fine for you to shout about it (shame in the second sense) according to today’s society.

Do people over share because they want to be perceived as sexually active people? As people that don’t mind pushing at the edges of societies norms? And do people object to over-sharing because they don’t want to perceive that person in that fashion? Or is it that they’re happy to perceive the person in that fashion but they don’t want to have an arresting visual image of it implanted in their heads? In which case, whose problem is that? Hmm? Ask yourself, what would de Sade do? How’s about Anais Nin? Because yes, these people both pushed at the bounds of correctness and our world is a better place for it. Mostly. Don’t get me started on de Sade. That involves copious amounts of wine and a lot of rope.

Romancelandia wise do we need to be writing up more ordinary romance couples doing the hot sex times stuff? I’ve seen some of it sneaking in these days but do we need more? What do you think? Over-share with me in the comments…

Apple of Mass Destruction... my take on Snow White & The Huntsman

Okay, first things first. If you haven’t seen it and you don’t want anyone spoiling the experience for you then don’t keep reading because SPOILERS AHOY!

Next up I think we should give credit where credit is due. SW&H would like to thank The Never Ending Story, Evil Dead, Avatar and The Lord of the Rings for providing some juicy tid-bits of inspiration. That being said, whilst occasionally lacking originality, I did like this movie. I did enjoy it. But there were some definite flaws. For instance the love triangle that most definitely wasn’t. 

 Forget the childhood mate that she was sadly separated from who is suddenly back on the scene with dimples and a title. When the sh*t goes down with the apple he’s first in line to kiss her and nothing happens. NOTHING. Okay? Got that? So onto the Huntsman. Now, if you’re going to give Chris Hemsworth a Scottish accent and a sword then denying him a kilt is madness. Madness I tell you! And his shirt was only briefly partly removed so there’s a mighty big letdown right there. Hence the picture to your right.

But I have greater reasons to be dissatisfied with this film than a lack of pecs to perv upon. Because if a guy is going to kiss a girl and that smooch is going to be such a powerful momentous event as to return life to her then it actually needs to mean something. Something more than him being a bit drunk and pondering how said dead chick reminds him of vaguely of his likewise dead wife. So he ends his maudlin speech and kisses the dead chick. And she comes back to life. Which is pretty much it for these two characters and their supposed true love’s first kiss. A scene or two later he makes a crack about her looking fetching in mail and she gives him an awkward looking smile that just reeks of an uncomfortable morning after. 

THAT’S IT. 

You see how cool she looks? And the ravens!

At the end when the clueless virgin is sitting pretty on the throne for no greater reason than bunnies and birds take a shining to her and her Daddy used to be King (yes, I’m being a little harsh here but the whole kiss thing has me stirred up) the Huntsman is hanging by the back door with a smile and a nod and for all intents and purposes he looks to me like he’s about to hit the highway. Huh? Come again? What just happened here? Is the writer a bit embarrassed by that icky human emotion called ‘Love’ or something? Please explain. And exactly when during her years of incarceration did someone teach her swordplay? For all that we diss a montage there is many a time when one is blatantly required. If I hadn't known ahead of time that the love triangle remained unresolved I would have been very unhappy with this film. But I'm a romance writer so the lack of a fully satisfying Happy Ever After still stings.The lack of resolution to this huge big important chunk of the story smarts.

Now let’s discuss what Snow White and the Huntsman did right. It is a visual feast. It's just beautiful. Charlize Theron is superb. The Evil Queen is without a doubt the most fascinating and complex character in the entire story. They’ve come at this oft told fairytale character in a wholly new way and it works a treat. She rocks and her costumes are amazing. I want her wardrobe. Apart from that, Al Swearengen is one of the seven dwarves and that’s cool. Always great to see him in stuff. Another one of the seven dwarves had a cool stick piercing in his ear and that was cool too. The castle was cool and so were the ravens. That’s about it. So yes, see it. No, don’t expect it all to make sense. The end.

Howlin' for you… a look at Coyote Home by Rhian Cahill

Shifters, baby. Today we’re talking raunchy beasty rut-on-you shifters. Coyote shifters in particular. Six years ago Rowan left her home and pack following a nasty situation with a madman, but now she’s back and no longer anyone’s victim. She’s stronger, older, wiser and more than ready to tackle her mate Quinn and her coyote within. And boy does she tackle him, the lucky thing. This time she is taking her place in the pack and brooking no sh*t from anyone, bless her. She done got her kicking boots on. Don’t you love a woman who’s willing to set things straight with a firm hand? But things are never easy. If they were we wouldn’t have a hot, action packed adventure romance on our hands, would we? No. We wouldn’t. Quinn is 6’4 worth of studly sure goodness with a dash of humour and a pinch of knowing when to back off and let his woman lead the way. So yes, he has a brain. And pecs. And the rest. And occasionally even a bushy tail. Our hero is swoon worthy for sure.

I really enjoyed this book. It had a bit of everything rounding it out to a rollicking good read. Plus there are sequels. Isn’t that a wonderful feeling knowing there’s more booky goodness all ready for you to curl up to and enjoy? Ms Cahill writes hot and she writes darn good. Her writing style is easy to read and imminently enjoyable. I really had fun with the world she created and her sexy shifters too. In my head. Not in real life because that would me crazy and in need of medication. The characters are well rounded and very likeable. And the sex. Aaahhh… the rumpy pumpy plentiful sex. Buy it for the smexy times and stay for the story. And you know what else? You’ll be supporting an Australian Woman Writer and an Erotic one at that. Bonus points! Awesome! 

You can find out more about Ms Cahill and her wonderful stories right here... http://rhiancahill.com/

This has been another Australian Women Writers 2012 Challenge Review. To find out more about this most excellent endeavour please bang on the button to you right. 

Six Sentence Sunday...

Welcome one and all. A quick point of interest up front, some friends and I have started a Romance Writers of the Apocalypse Blog. You can find it here... http://romancewritersoftheapocalypse.blogspot.com.au/ If you’d like to join us posting about Post-Apoc books, fitness, survival and anything else regarding the downfall of civilisation that takes our fancy, please let me know. The more the merrier.

 This morning the possible Post-Zombie-Apocalypse romance continues as our hero and heroine face each other down the length of their guns. Troubled times indeed. I'm trying to be strict and stick to the story here serving you up the next six lines, no excuses. Which makes this week a quickie.

To recap, our heroine just commented to the tall dark mysterious stranger that Mexican Stand-Off’s don't tend to end well in movies...

“No,” he agreed in a deep voice with a hint of an accent.

“English?”

“Mm.”

“Nice.” Oh, how she loved a man with an accent, pity about the gun. “So… what’s your name?”

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