​Once upon a time, I wrote up a vision of my wedding day. It’s still there in my dreamcatcher journal and still sounds like exactly the kind of wedding I’d like to have one day. (There were two pointers to the guy that I remember squinting at as I wrote…let’s see what happens.) 
 
What does this have to do with ROSA’s fabulous new anthology, Wedding Season, releasing July 18? Plenty. I’m not a big believer of marriage. I’ve seen far too many implode, and even more than that hang on in some sort of grim desperation for kids/money/one to die (yes, someone said that). I’ve seen far too many weddings as well where it was apparent from before they even said ‘I do’ that they really should have broken up after one month of solid shagging. But, they didn’t and all the flowers, fine food and photos couldn’t make up for the nothing of a relationship that was ‘joined together’.

Yet, there are the exceptions to this – I wrote Priest for them. ​

I wrote this book because I was getting tired of dating. Wouldn’t it be so much easier to have a robot who could do all the heavy lifting? Well, yes, possibly, but then where’s the humanity in that?  But, this also got me to thinking, if there was a companion robot (and it looks like we’re really close to this being a reality, so it’s not sci-fi anymore), what would that robot be like? Good looking and ripped, sure, but what about the other traits?

Around this time, there were heaps and heaps of articles on classic Alpha-hole traits and how these can rapidly turn toxic. So, the protective man coupled with insecurity quickly becomes the obsessive jealous man. What was once seen as ‘adorable’ is now terrifying. And sometimes it’s really difficult to tell if your man has that ‘flipswitch’. 

Marry these two ideas together, and add in an adventuring hero who has all the commitment phone traits you’ve come to love and expect from a romance hero, and The Romeo Prototype was born.

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And I listened. Want to know what happens next to Billy and Max? Their follow-up arrives July 2019 (summer wedding, perhaps?)

​#contemporary romance #erotica #eroticromance

What Goodreads' readers have said:

"Dance of Desire is sexier than any tango”
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​A reminder - this is a short story, not a novella, and not a novel! Pre-order now here. 

The dreams stopped when I slept next to him. Nothing - only silent blank spaces. No words. No monsters. Funny really, now that I think of it. My monsters were chained, tamed, even. But it was his that billowed smoke and ripped us apart in the dark. Stealthy. Deadly. 

I’m supposed to be writing something light, fun and bubbly for a summer anthology, and that’s what I started out with instead. It’s difficult to find the warmth in pain. 

​Yeah, I think Miley gets it. On repeat repeat repeat

The big upset of the Golden Globes was Bohemian Rhapsody’s win, snatching it from front-runner A Star is Born. 

I wasn’t surprised. 

Bohemian Rhapsody is actually a pretty shite film. It’s so obviously someone’s version of what happened and not what did, in fact, happen. There was drama in getting it made, controversy dogging its every move, and critics hated it. A Star is Born is way better in many respects. 

But, it didn’t have him.  

Freddie Mercury. 

Freddie Mercury. On. The. Big. Screen. Or rather Rami Malek as Freddie (and it’s so damn close it could almost be.)

That’s it. 

The man is a legend. And has tons of fans. Who cares that the film bobbled along on well-worn biopic tracks? Who cares that big chunks were left out? Or that canned drama took the place of character development (sorry, John Deacon, but you are clearly awesome and all anyone can say is that you were played by the kid from Jurassic Park). 

Watching Bohemian Rhapsody, we get a little closer to his and their ‘kind of magic'. 

I know a lot of people comment that there’s an irrational amount of grief for superstars we never knew. What aboutery abounds. 

I remember when Freddie died. It was the same day our Grade 11 marks were returned. I sat sulking, waiting for my cue as a shepherd in the nativity play rehearsal. Rain clouds threatened and all I could think was that my life was over as I’d ploughed Afrikaans, again. And then, the shattering news arrived. Freddie. Gone. 

We used to sing Flash Gordon in the lounge to my dad’s tape. The Innuendo album played on repeat when we were racing yachts just outside Durban harbour. Whenever I felt shite about my expanding arse, I’d turn to my personal feel-good anthem, Fat-Bottomed Girls. 

Queen sang to me, bolstered me up, made me feel I could be a ‘Prince of the Universe’.  An ally. A friend. An icon.

This year hasn’t started well for me. My heart is broken. My dreams in tatters. I have no idea what this year will bring and I hope for kindness, but somehow, that’s not always what will transpire. 

I cannot think of a better song, from a band and a man who fill me with such inspiration I can barely breathe. 

​Hope 2019 is good to you. 

#erotica #eroticromance #shortstory #tangoromance