On and on we go…

It’s nothing new. Every time My Love has to go away for an extended period of time our D/s slows down. It’s never pure vanilla. I don’t think either one of us could go back to that, but the intensity backs way off.

I’m not sure if he has difficulty finding his Dom space when he knows he’s about to fly across the continent or if he worries about me suffering from sub-drop while he’s away.

Once he returns, he’s ready to dive right back in, but I struggle a bit. He’s in tune with me and understands. He still pushes, as is his right, yet it isn’t at the depth he’d probably prefer. One scene at a time, we build the power between us.

Two days after he’d walked back into my arms, we were nearly back on track. My emotions were settled and our scenes were heating up faster than an Arizona summer.

That night our pup, a nine year old Great Dane, took a bad turn. My Love drove him to the vet and we received the long face. He brought our baby boy back home and our attention is now centered on him. We need to make him comfortable and do what we can to hold off the inevitable.

Neither of us feels our normal drive. Our pets are more than pets. They’re part of our chosen family, that small group of beings we prefer to spend our time with – rather than those that share a strand or two of similar DNA.

It’s funny how the amazing sex portion of our D/s helps us deal with day to day stress, but when our heart is being ripped out it isn’t as helpful. I’m not saying we revert back to a vanilla couple. I’m not sure anything could do that. Instead it’s the emotional side of our D/s that brings us the most comfort.

I find a semblance of peace in serving My Love. Whether I serve him through seriously kinky sex or by keeping fresh, sun-tea chilled in the refrigerator, our familiar roles help us cope.

My Love is shouldering the responsibility even though it isn’t his fault. It’s no one’s fault, but someone he loves is in a bad way and he can’t fix it. He can’t change the inevitable. Yet, he isn’t giving up. He’s determined to give our pup as much time as possible. He’s been spending his vacation time coaxing our baby boy to eat, drink and take his meds. He gets up multiple times a night and takes him outside without a single word of complaint.

And in the process, My Love is stealing my broken heart. Watching his gentle care of our pup reminds me of why I offer him my love and my submission each and every day.

Together. As always. We will make it through this.

Time to get moving…

Since my sister passed away in May, I’ve been in a holding pattern. I haven’t been able to write much of anything and what I have written I’ve erased a few days later.

When Totally Bound announced that Against the Rules was going to be included in their partnership with WHSmith, I thought finally…something to get my head out of the clouds. This will give me the push I needed to get writing again.

Nope. The desire was there, but nothing would pass from my fingers to the keyboard.

Friday I got a message from my publisher. They want Against the Grain. They want to know what to expect after Against the Grain. I’ve been putting them off since I lost my friend in November. I’m now eight months late. Against the Grain is about half finished.

Saturday I sent my editor a message saying I’m trying. Please have patience with me.

I think about the story all the time, but for seconds instead of the hours that it needs to be. My concentration is shot. I feel like a butterfly flittering from one thought to the next. My focus is gone.

Yesterday my husband and I spent a lovely afternoon together. We cooked and read to each other. We were able to spend several hours of couple time. No projects, work, or children interrupting us. I feel more like my old self than I have in a months. It was much needed. For both of us.

Today I’m going to write. Eliza and Sam have been bouncing around in my head all morning. They’re telling me it’s time to get moving. They want their story written.

Wish me luck!

10:30 PM – Today was one of my best writing days ever. 5202 words. Thanks everyone for your well wishes. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.


I’m a woman, so obviously I’ve never been a boy scout, but I do try to always be prepared. When my kids were little, I carried enough crap to keep a small army entertained and fed anytime we left the house. I’m one of those obnoxious people that finishes their Christmas shopping before Thanksgiving, sometimes Halloween. And taxes – why wait? By the first week of January the receipts are tallied and I have a spreadsheet that clearly spells out every possible deduction our accountant can use.

But the one thing I’m never prepared for is the death of a family member. We found out last summer that my sister had cancer. It was already at stage four and the prognosis was never good. They thought they could slow down its progress and buy her a couple years. Less than a month ago, they realized it had spread further and faster than expected. She was told to get her affairs in order. We knew her time was dwindling.

Tonight, I received the dreaded call. It was expected and yet not. I don’t think there’s anyway to truly prepare. It was the same way when my mom was ill.We knew it was coming, but when the call came it still felt like I was hit by a ton of bricks.

I think a small part of me always held out a tiny bit of hope. Ridiculous really when you have every medical professional telling you otherwise. I’m usually a ‘glass half empty’ kind of person, but when it comes to the lives of my loved ones I suddenly turn into a ‘it’s mostly full’ kind of person.

While I don’t believe we’re ever truly prepared to let a loved one go, we can learn to appreciate every moment we’re given with each other. Maybe it’s time to overlook how crazy Aunt Barbara gets on your last nerve with her incessant talking. Maybe if you try really hard, you could find a sliver of humor when Uncle Dave sticks his finger in your ear and makes wet willy jokes. Maybe…It could happen…Some day.

Books are a healing force

My last post was far from uplifting. Sadly, this week hasn’t gotten any better. On Sunday, we were told my sister’s cancer has progressed to Stage four and is untreatable. We haven’t been on the best of terms over last few years and there’s a whole lot of emotions I’m trying to work through. I’m the youngest of six and she’s the oldest. She moved out and joined the Air Force the year after I was born. To say we aren’t the closest of siblings is an understatement. Yet, she’s still my sister.

The day after receiving that devastating news, my friend I wrote about in the previous post passed away. A mere four days after she was told she only had a few weeks. Modern medicine has a plenty of room for improvement.

Honestly, it’s too much for me to handle right now. I need to take it in bits and pieces. I’m trying to look at the big picture, but my brain lacks the appropriate panoramic lens to take it all in.

So, I’m doing what I always do when reality gets to be too much, I dive head first into my work. I create characters that can be bigger than me, better adjusted and able to take the high road.

The female lead in my next book is dealing with two recent deaths. One looks like an accident and the other natural causes, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they turn out to be murder. The hero helps her to come to terms with her loss. Right at this moment, I’m not sure how he’s going to do it. Pain is swamping her, though she’s trying to bury it enough to go through her day to day activities.

He (Sammy from Against the Rules and Against the Odds) has his work cut out for him. If it’s murder, he’ll have to protect her while he hunts for the predator(s) that’s haunting her life.

One things for sure, at the end of my book the bad guy, unlike cancer, won’t be able to come back and destroy other innocent lives.