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Saturday, October 30, 2010

Sex Education, My Kid, and Me

This coming week marks the three-week long course on sex ed in my fourteen-year-old's middle school. Parents had to sign off on this at the beginning of the school year and, of course, I did. Kids at school have been anxiously anticipating all of this and the closer its gotten to actually sitting in on this, the more chatter.

What I don't really understand--not talking about anything to do with sex here now, lol,--is why the teaching of this course falls under the purview of the gym teacher. I guess it's because it's always "health and P.E.", sex falling under the purview of bodily functions, and therefore health. But still, is a gym teacher really qualified to teach our children sex ed? Sex isn't just about the body, is it?

I don't personally know my kid's gym teachers, but I have known several gym teachers in the past fairly well and quite frankly, I would not have chosen any of them to teach my kid about sex. I'm told that the course will involve not only the actual mechanics of the act, pregnancy prevention--mostly just say NO--but also touch on some of the reality of teenagers dealing with the issues revolving around sex.

And it's that touch-on-the-reality-of-teenagers-dealing-with-the-issues-revolving-around-sex part of it all that scares me. What exactly does that mean? Sounds kind of vague to me, but at the same time sort of like they will answer questions that teenagers might have that aren't related to the mechanics of it all or the prevention. And it seems the answers the teacher could give the students to whatever questions they ask could be rather subjective.

I raised my concern with the principal a couple of weeks ago--know him well, he's a nice guy--and his reply was that questions which run a bit too deep will be answered with a firm "ask your Mama". lol Yeah, he's a nice guy, funny too. But that just put a knot in my stomach. Really did. I'm not sure I want that gym teacher determining just what is too deep for him to discuss.

I'm blessed with having a kid who will, upon hearing "ask your Mama", most certainly ask---AND--by the time he gets to me, will have formed all kinds of answers and opinions himself and a huge discussion will ensue until I finally get him all straightened out on the subject. Except, of course, when he talks about planetary alignments or life in the ocean or some asteroid about to collide with earth. I draw the line at those type of discussions and honestly, he just talks to me about stuff like that because he loves seeing the blank, helpless look in my eyes. But when it comes to issues with sex, he KNOWS I won't be blank. AND I won't blink.

His favorite come back to me these days when we argue is: "Ohhhh...go write one of your sexy books and give me a break." Yeah, he says that.

Now my kid already knows about sex. We've talked at length about it over the past few years. So he isn't going into this sex ed class without knowledge. I think it's important for him to learn about the female body and how it works--I mean reproductive wise--I don't think they are going to give him lessons on how a female's body works sex wise. lol Oh God, I hope not. Not my baby! He's too young. LOL Just joking. But a good film on ovaries and fallopian tubes and such will probably scare him away from sex for a couple of more years I think. LOL

My concern is not so much for my own kid as it is for others whose parents might not be so forthcoming--so vigilante. There are plenty of kids in that school whose parents don't even show up for parent-teacher conferences. No, it's not my job to worry over someone else's kids, but I do. My kid will be the one in the class who'll ask the teacher all of those questions he'll have to respond to with "Ask your Mama". And he'll already know the answers because we've most likely already discussed it or he just knows cause he's a smart kid. But he enjoys discussion and getting the teacher's goat, so to speak.

But when he asks those questions or one of his friends do and they don't get an answer--who will that kid whose parent doesn't talk to him/her about all this go to and ask? That's my worry. I know the school can only go so far. And I know there is nothing I can do about it. But it seems there could possibly be a separate class for the purpose of counseling students about sex. Then, of course, those parents who don't talk to their kids about sex would be all up in the air about it, wouldn't they?

In the meantime, lack of understanding is increasing the rate of sexually transmitted diseases and teen pregnancy. It's not just enough for a parent to say don't do it, is it? You have to get inside your kid's head and help them figure it out. If you don't have an open dialogue, allow the child to talk to you about all the hard subjects---not just sex but drugs too--then in my opinion it's a big parent failure. And sometimes it doesn't make a bit of difference what you do either. Been there, done that. So I'm not trying to be judgmental. Lots of parents do try their very best and still something goes wrong. But I'm talking specifically about parents who simply sit back and do nothing in so far as helping guide their kids onto the right path.

So is a separate class to counsel students on sex and possibly even drugs a viable solution? One which, say a school counselor could teach--someone trained to deal with the hard questions. Talk about the things she/he sees on a daily basis. Sure, those same students could make an appointment to see the counselor anytime they wanted, but would they? Wouldn't it be easier on them to be there with others just like them who might have the same questions?

So what's the answer? Just do the best we can with our own kids or push for a deeper look into the sex ed classes our schools are teaching and hope for a better solution.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Wicked Desires by Eliza Lloyd Releases Today!

From Ellora's Cave!

Michael Dunnaway has it all—a wife he loves, three sons, an earldom. Except he isn’t getting any younger—and his body lets him know in a way that makes him doubt his masculinity. His impotence with Clarissa drives him to seek out new thrills. He’s contemplating giving up everything for the satisfaction he finds with a nubile French whore, but with the pleasure comes guilt. Is betraying the love of his life worth temporary gratification and the restoration of his confidence?

Clarissa has entered a world of shocking passions and unheard of acts, welcoming Michael with open arms. Hidden behind a mask, and with the help of a whorehouse madam, she finds she’d do just about anything to win her husband back. But will it be enough? And will the deep cravings they explore as strangers reveal more devastating secrets? Or will they discover their dark passion and wicked desires can lead to a greater love?

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Loose Ends

Life comes with loose ends. And at the moment I have too damn many. there is always something going on, isn't there? And when you're busy, it seems as though you only complete tasks in a part time/partial manner.

Today I started tying up loose ends. And what happened? More loose ends were created as a result. Nothing is ever simple, is it?

Well, I'm just about fed up with some of these loose ends. Once you cut ties to something or someone, they should stay cut. I believe I've got something going on that is going to haunt me for a long time to come, though. So what do I plan to do about it? Ignore it for the most part. Just deal with what I have to and ignore the rest.

Well, just had to get that out. Back to work---or off to the doctor's office with the kid. He has a fever.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

I'm Not In Promo Mode Today

Random thoughts and blogging. I think that's the way to go today. I'm NOT in promo mode. But I do need to blog daily. Ever get the feeling that you're a hamster in a cage on that little wheel just running and running and getting nowhere fast?

That's me. People think writing isn't work. I hear that from my family all the time. If they only knew. I think I field about fifty emails a day that need my attention. And I'm not talking about group emails that I skim in order to determine importance. That in itself is time consuming.

I'm in the middle of a working up an all out promo assault with my friend Natalie Dae. We co-authored a book together and looks like it will be my first Ellora's Cave release. I wasn't expecting a release until some time in January with Twelve Days of Love--a Valentine's Day themed book.

But I'm happy to be moving forward for sure. But setting up promotions is not an easy task. There is all the free stuff you can do plus paid advertising. Finding advertising that you believe will work for you and at the price you want to invest is NOT an easy task.

My to do list just gets bigger and bigger every day.

And I have to fit writing into all of that as well. We don't even want to talk about laundry and cleaning and cooking or the number of times someone in the family needs me because they NEVER know where anything is. sighhhhh

So I'm in a bitching and moaning mood today. I'm going to finish reading a book for a friend and give her my comments and then it's off to work on more promo. The kitchen can wait for it's morning wipe down. I'm just too tired to deal with it right now. Maybe later.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Lily Harlem and Mattress Music

For my very first post on my very new blog site, I'm turning things over to author Lily Harlem who will introduce everyone to her upcoming release from Ellora's Cave.

Take it away, Lily!

My e-book ‘Mattress Music’ is due for release on 9th of November at Ellora’s Cave. It’s the first in a set of three short stories focusing on ‘rock and roll’ in a very literal sense!

Here’s the blurb:

Is it possible to lose one’s ability to orgasm? Nina has. Lately, her fun weekend hook-ups have been more “ho-hum” than “hot damn”! It doesn’t help that she has three flatmates and is forced to play loud music to mask the sounds of her lovemaking. Talk about distracting! Of course, there’s another reason Nina’s less than satisfied these days…she’s just having a hard time admitting it.

It’s a good thing she’s met Ian, then. Not content to be a weekend hook-up, Ian is set on giving Nina what she’s been missing while making her admit what she needs. His talented fingers—and other body parts—are up to the task. But Ian’s not admitting a few things himself. Turns out his fingers can do more than make Nina’s body sing.

When she discovers his secret, it’s time for both of them to face the music.

And here is an excerpt - adults only it’s hot!

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

Copyright © LILY HARLEM, 2010
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

“You’re fucking awesome,” he whispered into my ear on a hot, panting breath.

“You too,” I said, running my hand down his perfectly smooth back. Not a pimple anywhere, just acres of glorious hot, male flesh and a deeply guttered spine lined with solid muscle. “Really good.”

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. “Liar.”


“Liar, you didn’t come.”

“I did, it was great…you were great.” Lying to a man who was buried inside me was not something I was good at.

“I’m not stupid, Nina, I can tell when a woman orgasms. I can’t always tell the difference between real and fake, but bloody hell, you didn’t even try to pretend, not even a little wriggle and a gasp at the right moment.”

Frowning and shifting my hips I muttered, “Sorry,” as I pushed out from under him.

“Don’t be sorry.” He rolled to his side, bent his arm and propped his head on his hand. The flat silver cross around his neck hung toward the mattress. “Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it for next time,” he said, still catching his breath.

Next time? Not likely. One-night stands were my game. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I pulled the duvet to my chin and turned to the wall. “It was me.”

He caught my jaw. “Tell me,” he ordered, tipping me to face him. “I want to know.”

Through the dim light, blushed orange by a streetlamp, I could see his dark eyes staring straight into mine, unblinking. One of my flatmates banged crockery in the kitchen next to my room then a deep rumble of laughter from one of the guys, Jerry I think, filtered through the thin wall.

“Why do you care?” I asked, toes and fingers curling.

“I’m lying naked in bed with you, we’ve just shared as intimate an experience as two people can, and you wonder why I’m bothered that you didn’t have as good a time as me? Would I be human if I didn’t give a shit?”

I shrugged. Candle in the Wind had finished, and in its place Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me was swirling around us.

Too late to save myself from falling—

That was me, I thought, too far gone on this road of shagging any cock I could find to be saved. In my old flat, living with Dee and Fiona, life had been great and mattress music was never needed. We all just went for it, having as much sex and as many noisy orgasms as possible. We would giggle about it over breakfast and swap stories about what racy shenanigans we’d been up to.

But now they’d moved on. They were both head over heels in love and settled in their own homes, leaving me out on a limb and living here with strangers.

Of course I wasn’t technically alone, but if I was honest I’d never felt so lonely. I didn’t want to be, loneliness was like a dull, gray hole swelling inside me. Starting in my stomach and stretching outward. And in the center of this hole was a new bitter emotion―envy. I envied what Dee and Fi had found, lasting love with respect and commitment. But admitting what I wanted and changing the fact that there was no one special in my life were two separate issues.

More pressingly, at the moment anyway, nor could I change the fact that I hadn’t orgasmed since I’d moved. My one-night stands just weren’t doing it for me anymore. The intimacy of getting naked and sweaty with someone wasn’t satisfying the hunger, the need that was eating away at me like an itch I couldn’t quite reach.

I’d been here three weeks, three fucks. But each week there had been something sneaking into my brain that had distracted me from the delicious build-up to climax. Deadly quiet the first week when I was with a bodybuilding scaffolder from Durham, every mattress squeak and grunt sliding under the door and echoing through the walls. With Dave, an earnest accountant from Chelsea, a knock on my door midway through a blowjob put me off my stride. And now this morose mattress music was stopping me from having a great time with the truly gorgeous Ian.

“Nina?” Ian pressed, dragging me from my depressed musing.

“It was the damn music,” I said with a frown. He wasn’t going to let it drop so I might as well fess up. “I couldn’t concentrate. You were doing it right, great, but I just kept thinking of Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana and Elton singing at his piano with his big, wobbling white wig and that mole thing he used to paint on his cheek.”

Ian tipped his head back and laughed. A big guffaw that shook the bed.

“Shh!” I pressed my fingers to his lips.

“Thank God for that,” he said, grinning. “Thought I’d lost my touch.”

“It’s not funny,” I whispered.

“No, no.” He tried to straighten out his grin. “Of course it’s not. I’ve just never thought of it before, the words in a song competing for the attention of the woman I’m trying to please.” He dropped a kiss to my lips. “So why did you put it on if you don’t like it?”

“So no one will hear. The walls here are so thin, and I’ve got male flatmates who I don’t want perving with glasses pressed to the walls.”

“You think they would?”

I sighed. “Probably not, they seem nice enough, but just the same…”

“You want your privacy.”
“Exactly.” I paused then sighed. “We should have taken a cab and gone to yours.”

“Yeah, but this was closer, much closer, just a quick walk around the corner.” He smoothed the hair from my face. It always went wild after sex. The hundreds of tiny, copper corkscrews seemed to take on lives of their own. “Maybe we could leave the music off and do it really, really quietly,” he whispered, spreading springs of my hair over the pillowcase.

“No,” I said. “That won’t work, I’ll be too conscious of even our breathing, or if the mattress squeaks.”

His eyes narrowed and a muscle in his cheek flexed, then he got up, walked to the iPod and finally silenced Elton. “This isn’t over you know.”

Buy link

Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking farmland, she allows her imagination to run free and revels in being able to use the written word as an outlet for her creativity. Lily's stories are made up of colourful characters traveling on everyone's favourite journey — falling in love. If the story isn't romantic, sexy and exciting, it won't be written, at least not by this author. Lily also won the 2009 Love Honey Award for Erotic Fiction with an American inspired tale titled ‘Madam President’. Read it for free at her website and check out other great authors and hot inspirational pictures.