Got Patience?

Okay, so, I’m gonna rant!

I’m teaching my daughter to drive. Let me start by saying, she’s not a bad little driver and is more logical and patient than the other two I’ve had the pleasure —  and I use the term loosely — of instructing.

This is my third. I think I’ve done my time.

My first two were boys. One who was just hell on wheels from the moment he sat behind the wheel and still is. And one who just couldn’t care less whether he learned to drive or not. In fact, my college man still hasn’t gone to get his licence and relies on family and friends to chauffer him around. I find it strange that he has no interest. When I was growing up, that’s what all the boys (and some of us girls) wanted, was the get their 365. That’s what we called it back then, here in Canada. The day they turned sixteen they were down at the MTO writing the written test. And I’m dating myself. We have a graduated licensing system now. And it’s just a pain in the backside. Lots of silly rules, regulations and restrictions. But I guess getting a licence is that first little bit of freedom and independence that we get a taste of and we crave that adult-like behaviour. First learn to drive and then it’s only a hop skip and jump to graduation; then see ya, mum and dad.

But my complaint today is with everybody else on the road. Everyone is in such a freakin’ hurry and have zero patience. As if my poor baby, isn’t white knuckled enough, worrying that she might hurt ‘daddy’s’ car, she’s worrying about the jack-wagon behind us, that’s tailgating or whipping out to pass her on a solid line or giving her a dirty look if she stops quick or shoots a little over the line at a light or a stop sign.

If it wouldn’t embarrass her to no end, I just want to put a sign in the back window:

Student driver on board. Please show some patience. Remember you had to learn once too.

And let me tell you, that’s a lot more polite than what I’m thinking when we’re out there. I just want to drag them out of the car by the neck and jack-wagon is the tamest expletive I would use.

And I know that I’m guilty of it too, I’m certain. If I’m in a hurry or aggravated in the first place, I’ve been known to pull up and get closer than I should; especially if I’ve been cut off. And not give a thought to who’s in the car up ahead or what their circumstance might be. Whether a student, a nervous driver, somebody’s grandma or grandpa or some poor sap just having a shitty day.

So, if you’re out and about (can you just hear my Canadian accent there) — oot in aboot — and someone annoys you or is in your way, just show a little patience, ‘cause you never know when that’s gonna be you or someone you love being harassed by the jack-wagons of the world. (Or perhaps, it's just me and I have zero patience) Na!

Take care, until next time,

H K 

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Special Guest - Cris Anson

THEN AND NOW: MAN SANDWICH, ANYONE?

Guest Blog by Cris Anson

Many years ago, when I was still single, I knew a man I would have liked to get to know intimately. Then I met his brother and Bam! I thought, “Brother Sandwich with me in the middle!” *sigh* But it never happened.

Back in those days of the Dark Ages, The Story of O was hush-hush and hard to find, there was no Ellora’s Cave, there was only one Shade of Grey, and all the romance novels closed the door to the bedroom. You know, sort of like, in Gone with the Wind, when Rhett sweeps Scarlett up into his arms and carries her up the stairs *swooooon*. Cut to the next scene: she’s in bed with the morning sun streaming into the room and she’s stretching her arms over her head and has this dreamy, just ****ed (kissed?) look on her face. Of course, no major movie studio dared depict a fuck or even use the word in those days.

So I tucked thoughts of Brother Sandwich away and (almost) forgot about it.

Cut to ten years ago, when I was trying to get published and editors kept saying, “I love your writing but you have to tone down your love scenes.” That’s about the time I heard about Ellora’s Cave.

Bam! Thoughts of that Brother Sandwich resurfaced and now I had a name for it: ménage. Woo-hoo! My very first erotic romance, DANCE OF THE SEVEN VEILS, was published by Ellora’s Cave in January 2005 and while it wasn’t a ménage, the heroine did some things, while naked, in front of an audience.

That hasn’t changed much. Because in my brand-new release, NO PATIENCE (it just came out last Friday, September 13), the heroine does some things, while naked, in front of an audience. And sometimes the audience of two or three participates, helping the Dominant bring her to…

Well, that’s a sneaky way of whetting your appetite. Here’s the blurb for NO PATIENCE:

My name is Roseanne and I’m an exhibitionist.

Of course I was nervous at first. Who wouldn’t be when you’re meeting a stranger for the ultimate purpose of sex?

I’m a full-figured widow and became interested in exploring BDSM via erotic romance novels. Almost put off by his screen name, Mr. No Patience, I answered Greg’s message because his profile on the fetish site intrigued me. I took it slow with him—a bunch of increasingly intimate emails followed by a few phone calls which, yes, morphed into phone sex when he made me orgasm to his whispered instructions and my own fingers.

But when we actually met—and clicked—at the restaurant, he started as he meant to go on, by ordering me to remove my thong and give it to him. And oh my, I blush to tell you the kinds of things I did under his tutelage. Not only in front of others, but allowing them to join us.

And now I’m impatient for more.

You can read excerpts of NO PATIENCE and all my books at my website, www.crisanson.com . Also be sure to check out my blog http://crisansonspassions.blogspot.com/  to learn about my first-hand research into BDSM, some of which found its way into this book. NO PATIENCE is published by Ellora’s Cave and is available in Kindle, Nook and other digital formats.

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