I love sex, hate writing about it.

I know, I know, sex sells.

But here’s the thing. Sex is as old as humankind. (that’s how we got humankind.) There’s nothing new about sex to write about. So, for an author, it’s all about circumstances and the emotions of the participants. That’s where the story lies. Or where most writers lie! You can’t improve on it or show some detail nobody ever thought of in over the two million years that we’ve been doing it. Or be presumptuous enough or try to match the euphoria of it or, unfortunately in some cases, the disappointment of it.

So it was with all that cold, detached dreading of the onerous task of writing a sex scene that I embarked on Pregnant Sex. Intellectually I knew there might be something there. It was kind of circular in its existence, being pregnant from sex while trying to have sex. It could be different, is it different? But again, it’s all about circumstance, and emotion. The hardest scene of the few “encounters” of my married, pregnant protagonist and her husband was the Doghouse sex scene.

Innocent is not a defense is a thru line to my new novel, the sequel to my #1 bestseller, Forgive Us Our Trespasses. It is true for Brooke Burrell-Morton, my hero, as well as for her husband. He is innocent in the matter of the sexist woman in Hollywood; Oscars, online sex tapes and all, making a play for him. “Thanks, Miss Brock, but I already have my leading lady.”

But his wife, Brooke, isn’t letting him off the hook, or out of the doghouse, that easy. So, the sex scene is full of subtext, innuendo, and guile, and of course, because they truly love, trust and adore each other, a few satisfying conclusions. But truth be told, I’d rather write a thousand gunfights. No woman would ever take me to task over those, but this pregnant sex, I expect, will deliver many emails. Hopefully, healthy ones.

Sex and the Single Technosapien

The hottest women in the world are magnetically attracted to two centers of power.  One on the west coast, Hollywood.  One on the east coast, Washington, D.C. These incredible emBODYments of every male’s fantasy are as much on display in the Capitol dining room as they are in the commissaries of the major studios.  Sound sexist?  Yes.

But hey, do you really think (male) politicians went through all the crap they had to go through to get elected, to actually SERVE the public?  (See: Bill Clinton, John Edwards, Elliot Spitzer, John Ensign, Chris, Lee, Eric Massa, Mark Souder, Mark Sanford, Larry Craig, David Vitter, James McGreevey, Gary Condit, Bob Packwood, Gary Hart, Wayne Hayes, Wilbur Mills, JFK, and Anthony Weiner)  We’re talking a well stocked pond here. And the bait wiggling on the hook is power, influence, and money.

My first experience in Washington was sitting in the Senate dining room, watching 90-something year old Claude Pepper, the Congressman from Florida, sitting amongst five women.   Continue reading “Sex and the Single Technosapien”