Okay. So you screwed up.

Maybe you accidentally said something racist or sexist. You hurt someone you never meant to hurt and you've been called on it.  (If you've done something mean or cruel on purpose, this blog post is not for you)

Now what? I know you want to defend yourself, to clarify that it was a mistake you don't usually make. So, here's a handy primer for when you messed up.

First things first. This is what you say:
"Wow, I screwed up. I'm sorry. Thank you for telling me and I will do better in the future."

And that's it. That's all you say. You stop talking, you don't defend yourself, you don't explain. Just take a break. Once you've calmed down from feeling bad and/or defensive, do some research. Look at the people who are taking the time to educate you.

Start with reading The Invisible Knapsack, especially if someone has said you are coming from a place of privilege. This essay carefully explains what exactly that means.

I've always seen privilege as a river of sewage running through our ideals of equality. People like walking in the middle of all that hate because it's warmer and the current can take you further. If you manage to escape the current and start walking to the beach, you start off feeling colder and slower at first. Then you realize how much better the world smells, and how much more fun you are having with all these neat people.

Of course, we all still slip up or fall into an unseen deep spot. When you apologize and step back, you give yourself to wash off the garbage and see what happened when you are more clear sighted.

(I do know that being able to step back is a privilege in and of itself.)

While you are researching and thinking, try to remember a time when you experienced true equality. I like to think of going to a George Clinton/Parliament concert. Even though I was queasy from all the pot smoke (I'm allergic), I got a glimpse of at what one nation under a groove could do. We all danced together - no self-segregation. Everyone was smiling at each other (the pot might have helped, but the music was what brought us together). I had NEVER seen everyone taking up equal space on the dance floor. This show was a harbinger of hope.

Lastly, when someone says they have experienced racism, the best way to make them feel better is to give them loving human contact. In a real way, they are grieving a lot, especially one of trust. Buy them some croissants (or whatever. You know what they like) and do something nice together.

In the end, the best way to keep combating racism is to be real and honest with each other.

No Guilty Pleasures

This morning, I woke, remembering the feel of an ex-lover’s skin under my lips. It was the thin, warm, tender skin of the crook of his neck. I could hear the sound of his panting and the way he fit between my legs. 

I wanted nothing more than to call him, to beg him to meet me in a lovely hotel for one more rendezvous. 

You know what? It was okay for me to feel this way. I didn’t need to feel guilty because I missed someone I had once (still) cared for deeply. 

One of the myths of a committed relationship is that you can never remember or dream of someone else. Your sexuality now belongs to your partner. 

It doesn’t. You get to have your lawless desires. You get to fantasize and orgasm from thinking of whom ever you want. 

(Need I say that desiring some one does not give you permission to be a jerk to your main squeeze?)

My delicious dream stayed with me. It brought great pleasure to my day to think on such sensuous activity. I had a glide in my stride and a dip in my hip, as Parliament/Funkadelic would say. Instead of beating myself up for my unconscious brain, thinking that perhaps I had inadvertently cheated on My Charming Man in my dreams, I allowed it to be a joy, a delight in the person who had been the focus of my passion. 

I refuse to feel guilty for any of my pleasures. I hope this gives you permission to savor your pleasures, too.  

Kisses, Tony Stark. Even now, you bring me great delight.

#MyFinal24 for Alexandra Franzen!

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My friend Alexandra Franzen has written a new book - So This Is The End: a love story. 

The central question of the book is, "If you had just 24 hours to live, what would you do with your time?"

Of course, my brain went into overtime thinking of what I'd do for my final twenty-four.



1. The first thing I'd do is check on my legal documents. I want to make sure my loved ones have all the information they need to have a good life after I am gone.

2. I'd make love to the Charming Man. *hearts*

3. I'd write love notes to my friends and family so they would know how much they have meant to me. Heck, I'd write The One I Had To Say Goodbye To, just to let them know that they had made my life a better place.

4. I'd sneak a few love notes into the Charming Man's drawers and desk. Something to make him smile!

5. I'd make love to the Charming Man. (He better have taken his vitamins)

6. I'd put my money where my mouth is. I take a lump sum of money and just hand it out to people higgley-piggly. We all deserve a windfall. We all deserve some unexpected blessings. And I would want one of my final acts to be one that brought joy to the world.

7. Then I'd invite everyone I could over to my house and I would have a huge party. Lots of dancing, lots of crazy costumes, exquisite food, games, hugs, kisses, cuddles, and soulful talks. Maybe sneak in some lovemaking with the Charming Man. We would play all night long, because play feeds the body, mind, and soul.

Whew! That's a full 24 hours. What would be on your list?

Location, location, location

Radu (not in picture) loves Istanbul.

 Dracula Unleashed takes place all over the world. I've been lucky enough to travel to some of the locations I write about. Here we go, across the globe!

Amsterdam is the home of Luc Breton, the European leader.

More Amsterdam. So gorgeous!

The Hagia Sophia.

Once a cathedral and a mosque, the Hagia is a museum. Can you imagine worshipping here?

The Sultan's private rooms in the Topkapi Palace.

Valerie and her boys.

Motivation!

Every book has its own rhythm and its own soundtrack. I did try to do a bunch of YouTube Links here  but that didn't work so well. Instead, here is a Spotify playlist that you can revisit over and over.

Here we are - classic heavy metal to women of rock!

Click here for the awesome sound of Valerie's world!

Coming soon!

I'll be releasing Dracula Unleashed in the fall - a perfect adventure story for the cold days.

In order to whet your appetite, here is a snippet!

Patience was a virtue Valerie Tate usually lacked. Loyalty, though, she had in abundance. Therefore she loyally, if impatiently, told Glenath Tempesta for the sixth time. “No.  I don’t know where Luc is.”

Luc Breton, the leader of the paranormal community in Europe, was obviously avoiding Glenath. On a stranger note, though, he was avoiding television and all media appearances. For as long as Valerie had known Luc, oh, a couple of centuries now, he was an attention hog. She cleared her throat in emotional discomfort. Personal honesty forced her to admit to having this particular flaw herself.

“I’ve got this damned conference in three weeks,” Glenath said for the seventh time. “I need him here, in Portland, so we can renegotiate the Treaty of Prague.” A slight slurping sound came over the phone. Glenath had taken to calling Valerie during mealtime. The woman was living on milkshakes snatched between meetings. Valerie said nothing on the Bishop’s terrible habits. Her own diet was equally limited. “This whole situation stinks,” Glenath said after swallowing. “The tensions here are rising. I’m sure there will be a war.” In the background, Glenath's vampire lover, Anthony, growled in agreement.

Valerie made a non-committal sound. Her own extensive experience of war had left her jaded. There was always going to be another war. Her friendship to Glenath kept her silent on the topic. The mortal had an aversion to such matter-of-fact thoughts.

Humans, Valerie thought kindly. Always so hopeful.

Glenath and her boyfriend, Anthony, are based off of this hot pairing.