Gloria Steinem and I Aren't Best Friends

What I’m about to say isn’t going to make me very popular, especially with women’s libbers. I love men. I love being with them. I love talking about them. I love writing them. And I want a man to be a man.

When I think alpha, I don’t think of the heroes in novels from the seventies and eighties. So many of them, while alpha, were also great big jerks. No, what I think of is a man who is in control and who will guide the situation to his will for the good of everyone, not just for a petty whim. The alpha male is in charge and can make a decision. He doesn’t need a committee to get things done. He doesn’t need to ask five people what they think… He gets it done.

My book On Your Knees had this dedication: To all the women who have to be in control but don’t want to be.

That’s the thing. More and more today, many women are being forced into roles they neither want nor enjoy. It’s not how we’re constructed, yet in order for the world to go ‘round, woman have become the decision makers in their homes, in the workplace, in the bedroom.

I contend that quite a few women don’t want all the power that’s been thrust upon them. And that men are being stymied by the shift of dynamics. Yes I believe in equal pay for equal work. I’m thankful for the right to vote. I’m glad my day consists of more than cleaning and cooking and child-rearing. But for God's sake, there’s nothing wrong with a man opening a door for you, having an opinion or being the consummate leader of his pack, so to speak.

As a woman, I like feeling watched over. I like feeling like a world of responsibility doesn’t rest on my shoulders. I think many woman are exactly in that position—everything falls to them. They long for a man who will give them relief from that. There’s no mistaking the popularity of Male Dominant/female submissive BDSM books nor the way ménage books with two men and a woman fly off the shelves. These are books comprised of strong heroines and strong men. Alpha men. It’s the fantasy we seek, because let’s face it—finding a man like the ones in books is near to impossible. But isn’t that what reading fiction, especially romance, is about? Fantasy? Escape? The encounter with the love or the people who take our breath away and, hopefully, remind us of the blush of our new love…way back when? Or model what we once sought or dreamed (or still dream) about in a lover? An alpha: The man who’s comfortable in his position, who knows what he wants—what you want too—and isn’t afraid to do what needs to be done to obtain it. A man others look up to. A man who stands a head and shoulders above…

A man who’s fiercely possessive and who loves his mate with undying passion.

So yes, I feel the men in the books I write—and the books I read—must be alpha.

To Alpha or Not...

Alpha males are big in romance right now. Or are they? I think that the heroes we have now are very romanticized versions of the alpha. I surfed the web in search of a nice neat definition of an alpha. I wasn't surprised when I failed to find one.

The closest was the definition of the alpha mammal (humans qualify!) In the simplest terms, the alpha is the one that everyone else defers to in regard to decisions or wishes. Hmph. Isn't that the male that we used to have prior to feminism? Are we sure we want him back?

It must be hard for men to figure out what women want anymore. We read books with supposed alpha heroes. When we describe the ideal male, he's an alpha male. But the truth is if a true alpha claimed most of us, we'd beat feet the other way.

I'm not sure what we should call the ideal man. Or maybe, I should say my ideal man? What is he like?

I want a man who is capable of defending himself and his family from danger. That defense certainly includes the physical, but I want him to have the judgment and good sense to know when an issue can be settled verbally.

I want a man who can take care of himself and his family... someone who can cook, clean, do laundry, use a hair brush and a vacuum cleaner. Not because I expect him to do those things all the time, but because I want the security of knowing that our children wouldn't suffer if something happened to me.

I want a man who is secure enough within himself to deal with me helping to bring home the bacon--even if I bring home more bacon than he does at some time in our life. I don't want this because I'm anxious to go out there and hunt down that pig, but because bad things happen in life and some day we might have to switch places.

I want a man who isn't afraid to be both tender and disciplined with our children. I'm tired of always being the bad guy. And children respond really well to those deep rumbly tones of a male voice.

I want a man who is willing to put me first. If he has to make a choice between any other person in the world and me, I will come first every time. If our children play conquer and divide, they'll lose because we always stand together.

I want a man who is willing to commit for a lifetime.

You'll notice that there are no physical descriptions in any of the above. The physical changes. Age gets us all. But the important things aren't affected by age. They're things that are influenced by attitude. I think that's what women find so attractive. They find that attitude of self-confidence and competence very, very attractive. They fall in love with the man who has the confidence to admit that he doesn't know a darn thing about a car engine, but he can discuss the merits of three different types of crochet hooks. The man who is equally capable of changing a diaper and undressing his slightly tipsy wife demonstrates that he's a true man for all seasons and reasons.

Where is this ideal man?

I think I left him in the bedroom...

anny

Three For All

Hey, everyone, here's a little taste of my newest Ellora's Cave release.


Three for All
By Cindy Spencer Pape
Out now from Ellora’s Cave


Blurb: In her 600 years, elven reporter Eislinn has had two great loves in her life—paranormal police officer Callum, another elf, and Lothan, a demon enforcer. One hot summer night the three of them come together, and Philadelphia practically explodes with the passion.

Note: This book contains male/male and male/male/female sexual acts and light bondage.

Excerpt 3: BSDM/ménage ADULT

Callum lifted the satin blindfold Lothan had set on the floor by their feet and fitted it into place over Eislinn’s eyes. She wriggled happily and panted. Callum didn’t think he’d ever seen her so turned on—or himself for that matter. Lothan’s dark, smooth body was hairless and marked by a line of silver runes that ran from his left nipple up over his shoulder and down his back to his right butt cheek where it curled around his hip to circle the base of his cock. A row of tiny silver barbells dotted the underside of his cock from tip to scrotum. The whole package was so blindingly sexy that he could have made a jellyfish hard and Callum couldn’t wait to have that thick dark cock in his mouth—or his ass. Preferably at the same time as his own cock was fucking Eislinn.

Lothan turned her around and bent her lengthwise over the bench, until she rested on her belly. It was exactly the right length for her willowy torso. Her pert ass jutted into the air at one end while her hauntingly lovely face was turned to the side on the far edge of the vinyl cushion. Her long chestnut hair trailed across the hardwood floor and she obediently lifted her hands to the small of her back, as if anticipating the handcuffs that Callum snapped into place around her dainty wrists. Lothan fitted a spreader bar between her ankles, wrapping the soft leather cuffs around her ankles with tender care. Oh yeah, the demon knew Eislinn’s tastes as well as Callum himself did. He pushed aside a twinge of jealousy. He and Eislinn had called it quits over a century ago. He loved her but there had always been something missing in their relationship. He hadn’t been celibate in the interim. He had no right to mind that she hadn’t. And looking at Lothan, he could definitely understand the attraction.

“Ready?” Lothan stood after testing the ankle cuffs.

Eislinn wriggled on the bench. “Ready.” Her thighs were slick with cream and Callum couldn’t resist leaning down for one quick taste. He swiped his tongue along her slit, then straightened and brought his hand down hard on her sweetly rounded ass. Lothan smacked her other cheek at exactly the same time.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Eislinn.” The demon’s low bass rumble sent a tremor of arousal from the base of Callum’s spine straight to his taut and heavy balls.

“And naughty girls have to be punished, don’t they?” Callum smiled over at Lothan, letting all his desire for both of them show in his gaze.

The look Lothan gave him in return was smoldering. As one they both slapped Eislinn again. Her squeal held a trace of pain but a wealth of pleasure. The spanked her again, their movements timed as perfectly as if they’d been doing this together forever.

“You frightened us, dearling,” Callum reprimanded. Another spank. “You need to learn not to do that.”

“When there’s danger, you call us, damn it,” Lothan growled. Eislinn’s creamy white ass was turning a lovely shade of pink. Rivulets of fluid were beginning to trickle down her thighs as her arousal heightened with every stroke.

“You don’t fight demons on your own.” Callum finished.

“Y-yes.” her words and breath were fractured but she nodded her understanding.

“Yes what, sweet thing?” Lothan reached up and fisted a handful of her reddish-brown tresses. He pulled hard enough to make her bend her neck back.

Callum ran a finger along the curve of her spine. “Use your words, Eislinn.”

“I promise. I’ll call next time.”

“Not good enough.” Lothan and Callum spoke at once and brought their hands down again.

“You don’t go into situations like that alone,” Lothan told her.

“One of us knows where you are at all times,” Callum added. He was surprised how easily the words, “one of us,” had slipped out but they felt right. He’d trust Lothan to take care of her, in a way he’d never trusted another soul.

“O-okay.” She panted. Callum could see her body tense. She was so close to coming she couldn’t get the words out easily. His cock pulsed in response.

He and Lothan locked gazes again. With a joint nod, they each brought their hands down again—harder this time. Eislinn screamed and went over the edge. They both leaned forward to stroke her back as her body convulsed. Since Lothan held her hair, her face was turned to Callum. He couldn’t resist the opportunity. It had been a hundred long years since he’d kissed her.

Have a good week!

Guest Blogger: Author Renee DeMarcus

The Grip Crew would like to welcome author Renee DeMarcus. Please leave Renee a note to let her know how much we appreciate her stopping by!

This isn't an excerpt, but a piece written for this blog. Enjoy!

“I think I’m in love.” Stella said breathlessly as she climbed onto a barstool and took a seat.

“Oh my God, I so knew Michael was right for you.” Leah had set the pair up on a blind date three weeks earlier and she had been on pins and needles waiting to dish the juicy details with her friend.

“He is so different from any guy I’ve ever been with, for real.” She plopped her shiny black purse on the bar with a heavy thud and started scanning for the bartender. As Stella absently reached for a bowl of nuts, Leah noticed a ring of angry looking red marks on her wrist. “I swear to God, he could be the one.” Her other hand reached for a small menu and Leah’s eyes widened when she spotted matching red marks on the other wrist.

“Stella, don’t tell me you let him tie you up.”


Stella giggled. “Yep, last night. It was so hot.”

Leah’s mouth dropped open. She was open-minded and had no problem with silk scarves binding her to the bedposts or even the occasional lusty round of naughty-girl-in-need-of-a-spanking. But staring at the injuries visible on her friend’s pale skin left her feeling cold and uncomfortable. “But, Stella… he must have tied you up pretty tight. I mean, you still have marks.”

“These are nothing. You should see the ones on my ass.” There was a definite satisfied tone to her voice.


“Did you ask him to loosen the restraints?”

“No. You can’t talk when a ball gag is in your mouth, Leah. Duh.” She popped a few nuts in her mouth and started chewing, waving the waiter over by waving her reddened wrist in the air like a flag. “Michael is so amazing—he really gets me.”


“Gets you? Yeah, like, gets you in need of medical attention.” Leah took a swift drink of her Margarita, wishing she’d ordered something stronger. This bar always served watered down drinks, if it wasn’t on her block she’d never come again. “I had no idea Michael was so twisted—he’s always seemed so normal at work.”

Stella sighed. “Oh, he is twisted alright. I think he is twisting right around my heart.”


“This is not normal, Stella. Man, I should have set you up with Bill—he’s a therapist.”

“Relax, Leah, it’s normal for me.”

* * * *

Like Leah, many of us consider ourselves pretty open minded when it comes to sexuality. Even if we’re more traditional in our sexual practices, many feel wickedly adventurous by dabbling in an occasional session of what we think is BDSM with our partner. But is it? Probably not.

Wanting to enrich one of my stories with a flavor of BDSM, I recently endeavored to take an online workshop on BDSM given by a couple living the Lifestyle—erotic romance author Sascha Illyvich (http://whitewolfwriting.blogspot.com/) and his Domme. I found the lessons and the instructors utterly fascinating and realized I possessed little understanding of the psyche involved in the BDSM Lifestyle.


BDSM (Bondage/Submission/Sadism/Masochism) is so much more than the cliché Domme in black leather sporting a whip and looming over a submissive man on a leash. Does BDSM encompass the stereotypical tools such as whips, chains, collars, ball gags, and even unusual fetishes? Yes, however, BDSM practitioners also follow a lesser known code of ethics known as SSC—safe, sane, and consensual.


Most surprising was learning most BDSM couples engage in their sexual play from a loving place. I know, it sounds contradictory to believe any sort of violence is loving—it’s tough concept to wrap one’s mind around.

One current theory suggests BDSM practitioners associated violence with sexual arousal at a critical point in early development, creating a spark of interest that grew as they developed to maturity, resulting in the expression of BDSM in their adult lives.


Maybe.


Others theorize BDSM is a perversion resulting from abuse or trauma.

Again, maybe.


What I found over the course of my research was that individuals engaged in the Lifestyle believe they are expressing their true selves, feeding an inner psychological or emotional need in a healthy way.

This new knowledge has inspired my writing and I have gained a broader understanding and acceptance of those engaging in alternative lifestyles. My recently completed novella, BLACK AND BLUE, possesses shades of BDSM and I am certain future books will as well.


So what do you think? Do you believe one can work out emotional issues sexually with a lover, one who is aware of those problems and actively attempting to help their partner grow in a positive way, even if the methods involve BDSM?

Renee DeMarcus
http://www.reneedemarcus.com/
http://www.myspace.com/reneedemarcus

And now for a look at Renee's latest book:
TAYLOR’S TRYST,
by Renee DeMarcus
available from Resplendence Publishing
(Click on the cover for more information)

Blurb: Introverted biomedical research assistant Taylor Anderson has given up on finding sexual satisfaction, let alone a man, until her pushy best friend, Tyanna, insists she meet her boss, Brian Jackson.

Brian is an African-American man with a playboy past, one which nearly derailed his fledgling career. He is determined to tame his bad-boy image, focus on his law practice and philanthropic endeavors.

Brian and Taylor’s awkward first date leads to a second and a sexual journey in which Taylor overcomes her sexual insecurities and Brian finds the one woman he believes he can truly commit to.

But when meddling Tyanna lets it slip that she all but resorted to blackmail to get Brian to agree to a meaningless sex-date, Taylor is humiliated. She retreats to her lab work, intent upon denying the stirrings of love within her heart. Taylor decides Brian simply played her, adding her to a long list of sexual conquests.

Can Brian convince Taylor he is more than his past, that their connection holds the promise of more than a meaningless sexual tryst?

Beta or Bust

Critique partner? I’ve never had one. I have a few beta readers that I rely on to keep me from making too big a fool of myself, but it is a one way street. Sure, I’ve helped a few friends from time to time, but it is most always for a chapter, two at most. I must admit, those requests are few and far between.

So, am I missing out? Probably. Will I lose sleep over it? Not a chance. My beta readers are a Godsend and I trust them to a fault, but just to make sure I don’t get to complacent, I usually pick a person to read my near-complete works for a different point of view. Nine times out of ten, they don’t come up with anything my two favorite betas don’t offer up as well.

They do a bang up job and pull no punches. I usually get the MS back within a few days and it often looks like it is bleeding to death. I’ve had them catch everything from simple typos to lackadaisical character development. In short, when I right shit, they have no qualms about telling me how bad it stinks. Having said that, they also let me know when a passage really moves them. I really feel that if I’m going to grow as a writer, I need both and me betas seem to realize this as well.

Someday, I may take the plunge and at the very least, join a crit group, but for now, this is the system that works for me.

He does what? With who? Is that supposed to be a comma?

First off, since several of my critique partners read this, I have to be nice. Snicker.

Right now I have two sets of critique partners who are each invaluable in their own way. I have an on-line group, including Anny and former Grip staffer Regina Carlysle, who are erotic romance authors, with not only my primary publisher, but my same editor. They read the kind of stuff I write, so they know the genre and the business. So if I do something that doesn’t work from a romance point of view, they are there to catch it. And if I need help with a hero, a situation, or yes, a sex scene, they’re there to provide ideas. Gotta love a group that can have a conversation about finding a unique position for sex in a faculty office, or whether a given angle is physically possible. Finally they can be turned to when I’m feeling crappy about my writing, to tell me to quit whining, yes, I can write, and to get my fingers back on the keyboard.

I have another group, a local gathering of authors, that is not primarily a romance group. This is the one I turn to for technical advice and face-to-face social interaction. Both are extremely useful. I read a lot of SF&F so I enjoy reading their stuff, and as a few of them are making inroads into the paranormal romance arena, I think I have something to offer them as well. What I can’t get from them is a heads-up when I’ve broken one of the unwritten rules of the romance genre, or when I simply have a hero or heroine who doesn’t measure up. They also don’t quite get that in, especially in short romantica (TM), plot is a very secondary thing. I love working with this group, which is split between men and women, because they refuse to let me get lazy and they force me to be a better writer. We also laugh ourselves stupid, and sometimes you need that.

Are critique groups always good? Nope. One thing I urge is that, even if you don’t write exactly the same genre, you have to be willing to read the others’ stuff. One of my very first critique partners was a lovely woman and an excellent writer, but she wrote emotionally intense women’s fiction of the very grim variety. Frankly it was painful for me to wade through every month. And my sex scenes had her picking up the manuscript by one corner and going, “ick.” This was not a critique relationship destined to be helpful to either one of us. After about a year, two of the women moved away and the group quietly and rather relievedly, fell apart.

Finally, if I have doubts about a manuscript, I have a couple of other friends I can call on to say, as Dakota put it, either “Great, send it in,” or “Really? You sure this is going to work?” It’s not the same as critiquing, but it has its place as well.

One caveat. It IS very easy to over-critique a manuscript and lose your own voice. Be wary of that. You can’t please everyone, so you have to please yourself. Catching typos or plot holes isn’t the same as turning your story into a generic piece of dreck. My first book for Wild Rose Press, The Cowboy’s Christmas Bride, suffered heavily from this. Many of the changes my editor made were thankfully to put it back the way it was in the first place. A good critique partner has to be very careful not to impose her own voice on her partners’ manuscripts.

Writers come to their critique partners for many reasons, and it’s important to connect with a group, or groups, that meets those individual needs. Mostly? I think sometimes we need to be around other people who understand what it’s like to have voices chattering away in your head.

Critique...Me? Um....

I am a terrible critique partner. Or I would be if anyone asked me to help. I've had requests, but I've had to respectfully decline. I am a better beta reader. I can do broad perspective, an overall "Good job" or "Maybe take a look at chapter three." But I cannot point out specific problems with someone elses work.

This is a little odd, because I want someone who will do that for me. I have never once been offended or hurt by big red notes in the margin about parts of my MS that don't work, don't make sense, or just don't belong at all. I trust my friends/partners opinion and almost always take it.

But to do that to for someone else, makes me squig a little. Maybe it's because I am not confident enough in my own writing to feel comfortable telling other writers they are wrong. How the hell do I know? I don't. So best to send me something when you want to hear how wonderful it is. Or if you are curious about something specific, I might be able to choke out a yes or a no as to how it works. But other than that...I'm probably not the last person you want to look at your work before you send it to an editor.

However, if you are looking to try out your new red Sharpie any time soon let me know...I'm sure I've got a few stories waiting to be critiqued within an inch of their lives.

XoXoXo
Dakota Rebel