It’s hard to turn loose of a story after spending so much time with the characters. My novella, Death by Sex left home today to visit my editor. Now comes the hardest part, waiting to hear if she likes it.

How can she not? asks the writer’s ego. Two men, one bed, twelve hours…a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. In her pursuit of “I’m not lonely” sex at the wedding of her college sweetheart and her sister, Joely finds a new definition for triple-play. In the process, she remembers just how good life was with her college buds, Tucker and Beck, always at her side.

They tell writers “write what you know”, so how the hell did I end up writing a menage a trois? Choreographing sex scenes is tricky enough, but throwing in any number of excess body parts makes it that much more complicated. Not only do you have to know whose parts are where, you also have to vary what you call said parts. Check to make sure fluids aren’t appearing when they should be contained in P.C. condoms. (That’s my message? It’s okay to have sex with two guys at once, just don’t forget the rubbers?)

Then there is talking during sex. My fellow authors insist that readers want to hear words of passion. Personally, I’ve always felt that if I’m capable of talking during sex, he’s not trying hard enough. That aside, it’s difficult not to cross the line into porn with repeated exclamations of “Oh, baby” and “Yeah, right there”.

One critique partner said someone needs to write a more realistic erotic romance, along the lines of “No, not there!” I truly believe I am the woman for that job. Given that my single years outnumber my married years by more than I want to admit (even if I add all the marriages), I have had my fill of “not there” sex.

So, stay tuned. You’ll be first to read it when I publish it here.