Stacia Kane

Okay, unlike the fabulous Sherrill and Jenna, I don’t post eye candy here. Mainly because I have no idea where they find all those lovely photos. So if you are looking for hot men in very little clothing, those are the links to click, over there ———->

But I have to post these. I saw them a few days ago and fell in love.

The photos are probably copyrighted. I just hope His Imperial Hotitude doesn’t mind me using them. Maybe he won’t if I run my naked body all over his.

Can I? Please?

Ladies…(and a few gents)…

I give you Russell Wong.

Note: So I Googled pigeon mating habits. I found a site called Pigeons! They’re pretty obsessive over at Pigeons!. It’s like Bert created the site. I kept expecting to see a little cartoon of him doing the pigeon across the bottom.

So, in an attempt to make this more interesting, I’ve written a little story. What would happen if people mated like pigeons?

Lynn (ha ha) wiped sweat from her brow, deciding that after this song ended she would take a break. Her throat was dry from the smoke machines. A nice cool drink was what she needed, maybe a cocktail, something to finally and completely wipe away the last vestiges of her crappy day.

It had been a bust, from the lousy breakfast-on-the-fly, to the meeting at work where the promotion of that miserable bitch Jane was announced, to the stop-and-start traffic on the way home. All she wanted to do was dance, work off some steam.

Out the corner of her eye she spotted a man, working his slow, sinuous way towards her through the crowd, his head bobbing up and down, alternately exposing and hiding his strong neck. His tawny skin gleamed in the flashing colored lights of the club. He looked like a man who spent a lot of time outside, maybe worked with his hands. Whatever he did, he was fit and strong. Her dry mouth dampened as he approached, his knowing smile as his dark eyes looked her up and down incredibly sexy.

Just watching his head move excited her. She knew what was coming.

He leaned back, showing her the muscled column of his throat, and dropped down, letting the ass she was certain was firmly muscled hit the floor, before raising it again. This was too much. His intentions were so clear, so frankly unembarrassed. Lynn felt like prey, like he would not rest until he had her, and the feeling made her hot.

He started circling her, sliding her smoothly away from the crowd, pausing as they moved to slide his bottom along the floor. She managed to sneak a peek at it while he moved. It was everything she’d hoped for, and the bulge in the front of his gray trousers told her that her instinct was right. This man meant to have her, and she was just about ready to give in.

When he’d separated her from the rest of the crowd, he smiled, moving in closer to her, inviting her to place her lips between his so he could nibble them. This she did, throwing caution to the wind. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t planned on it, but deep down she had to admit she was always ready. There was no particular season or time of the month that was best for her. She could do it anytime.

His lips tasted tantalizingly of bread and lettuce as they started bobbing their heads up and down, holding each others lips with their own. They quickly found a rythm, moving their heads as if they’d done this together before, had been doing it for years.

Lynn was ready. She broke the liplock and turned around, leaning her hands against the wall. Her mystery man lifted her skirt and slid his erect manhood into her, so hard and fast she thought she might die from the pleasure. He started moving, quickly, the incredible friction building inside her. She felt him swelling, heard him gasping in her ear, as they both quickly found their release in the dark corner of the club.

It was over. Lynn turned around in time to watch her mystery man run away, clapping his arms together loudly in the age-old celebration of pleasure that always made her smile.

She guessed it hadn’t been such a bad day after all, she thought, and she smiled as she went to the bar to order that drink.

This is totally off-topic. It’s not about writing, or sex, or books, or publishing in any way.

This time, it’s personal…

Yesterday I left an online community I’ve been part of for over 4 years. It was a really hard decision to make. Basically, I felt the people there had changed. The parameters had changed. What was once a really fun place to be had become a den of vipers, a place where people were just waiting to snipe others for any reason, where free discussion and repsect for other people’ opinions were not to be found.

I’m still wierded out by this.

But I thought about it. And I realized that right now, I’m part of another online community. Whether we’re all Snarklings or Minions or Cowlettes or whatever…we’re all here.

I like writing messages to you guys. I like reading yours. I like not feeling like I better keep my mouth shut because who knows who’ll pile all over me if I say something.

So that’s basically it. You guys have made me feel better, without doing anything but being you.

I’ll do a real post later. I just wanted to say that.

I don’t know where all my lovely friends went. I had such a happy little bunch, and you’ve all disappeared. I’m feeling awfully rejected (and not just because nobody else wanted to condemn stupid PC romances either. In fact, not just because of anything blog-related.)

I just feel bad. Not sad bad, angry bad. (Okay, maybe a little sad, but just sad enough to add a piquancy to my crankiness.) I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and no matter how many times I climb back in to start over the day is just not improving. I’m grumpy, I’m tired, I’m impatient–just generally pissed off at the world.

I’m having a little bit of a crisis of confidence. I can’t seem to get cracking on my WIP. Doing a major edit that cost me over 5k words might be partly responsible, but just in general I’m having something of a slump. Which really pisses me off. I don’t know if I’m putting too much pressure on myself or what. All I know is the head-to-hands link is just not working the last few days, I’ve gotten maybe 2k words done, and that is nowhere near where I need to be. I’m considering starting a different project just to see if it’s some kind of slump. (I’ve had slumps, so I know. I used to play baseball with my brother.)

What do you do when things just aren’t happening for you?

(And by the way, the stupid ugly-ass new Yahoo homepage isn’t helping. Not only is it horrible to look at and confusing [I have to go through three steps now to check the US headlines] but the fucking thing moves. Every time you come back to it, the image slides down as a bar at the top widens. It is so fucking IRRITATING I can’t stand it. SW I tried the company you recommended but just got an ad for some program. I need a new homepage!)

Yes, I know. I need to blog about all the ramifications of gay sex and pigeon sex. And I will, I promise. I have some thoughts on all of it. (Okay, except the pigeon sex. But I’ll come up with something.)

But there’s something I need to discuss first. Look for the gay posts in a day or two (aside from the fact that I frankly can’t bear to blog about the World Cup yet.)

The other day over on Smart Bitches, they were discussing smoking, and how in the 60s and 70s, virtually everyone in romances smoked-the heroes, definitely, the heroines often (but not heavily.) But how it’s become so rare now for anyone in a romance to smoke, and how strange that is considering there is still a chunk of the adult population that does smoke.

I smoke. I drink. I love to write heroes who smoke and drink. None of them are heavy smokers–A)because writing someone who is smoking constantly can be a bit dull, and because when you have someone who doesn’t smoke much suddenly smoke a lot it’s a good way to indicate stress-more on that later, and B) I guess, because I’m not a very heavy smoker. My heroes also do not generally smoke indoors or around my heroines. I am ever mindful of the large population for who this is a turn-off, but the fact is, some of these guys smoke. Especially since they’re paranormals. Why wouldn’t a vampire smoke? It won’t hurt him. Likewise my demon hero from my current WIP. Smoke is actually fairly healthy for demons in my world.

Anyway, this is all beside the point. Someone commented to the Smart Bitches post about how they could never stomach a smoking hero because smoking is socially irresponsible and therefore unheroic.

This absolutely stunned me, I have to admit.

With all due respect, what kinds of frigging milquetoasts are the heroes you like?

There’s a reason Batman is more popular than Superman, hon, and it’s because-and corect me if I’m wrong, but I’m not-”socially responsible” isn’t sexy. Dark and dangerous is sexy.

Yes, it could be a fun challenge to write a hero who works at a charity center and is always nice and acts like a hero in every aspect of life while also being modest and self-affacing. There must be an audience for that sort of hero, too. It’s just I’m not part of it.

I sat down and started thinking about my heroes. They’re not the nicest men in the world. They’re fairly prickly and–with one exception–they’re dmaaged. I like writing about damaged people. I like writing about people who genuinely believe it’s not possible for them to find love, not possible for someone to love them, and who fight it when it happens.

Funny thing is, The Black Dragon‘s hero, Gruffydd, is actually as heroic as they come. He is socially reponsible-to a point-so I guess he fits that definition. But he’s also rude, standoffish, defensive, a little arrogant, sometimes downright mean, impatient, and overly suspicious. I adore him.

Cynwrig from Prince of Death is selfish, completely reckless, oversexed, and emotionally unavailable. Julian from Blood Will Tell is sarcastic and sometimes cruel, arrogant, snide, secretive, and egotistical. Now Nick from my WIP is secretive, rebellious, antisocial, oversexed, overconfident, and a criminal.

None of them are “socially responsible”-again with the slight exception of Gruffydd, but that’s a little different. You’ll understand when you read the book when it comes out (no date yet.) Certainly none of them are socially responsible to the point where they would not smoke because they consider it their social responsibility not to. All of them would laugh at you if you said something like that to them.

Writing a romance with Suoerman isn’t interesting, not is reading one. Because Superman is so worthy of love. Superman is perfect-kind, loving, socially responsible (there it is again), handsome, respectful, etc. There’s no challenge in a man like that being loved, and the book starts to feel like “which lucky girl is right for him?”

What makes a hero interesting are his flaws. What makes a romance interesting is the moment when a hero decides he needs to do some work to make himself good enough for the heroine. Not when they realize they’re both so perfect they belong together.

Just my 2p.

Oh, this is long!