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Monday, June 27, 2011

Super Help Needed!



HELP ME!

OK, here's the deal...

As we wandered around the San Diego Zoo's Nighttime Zoo yesterday, my mind was, as always, running. I tried to keep it in neutral as far as work goes, but any author will tell you that just isn't possible. I'm always looking for a story angle.

Anyway, at some point we passed a bunch of kids and a handful of adults escorting them. For some reason, the kids were all dressed to one degree or another as various superheroes. You know...Superman, Batman, Spiderman, and all the rest. The kids were cute.

But that got me to thinking. I know, that's dangerous.

Since then, I've been playing with an idea that's tugging at my brain for a new book. A futuristic SF story about a superhero.

Yes, an erotica romance superhero.

As crazy as it may sound, I'm leaning to something just a little, well, hokey. Yeah, just like the comic book—excuse me, graphical novel—superheroes. A little comedy tossed in with the battling of evil doers, and, of course, the romance and erotica.

I need a few ideas from readers and other authors to help me along in the early stages of this process...

(BTW, you can read a lot about other superheroes on the web site: http://www.superherodb.com/)

First, what kind of super powers should our hero have? Flight? Invisibility? Telepathy? What?

Second, what about a name for the superhero part of the hero's twin egos? What would be a snappy name to match his powers? I guess Superman has the perfect name. He is, after all, super. Ditto for Batman. Same deal with Spiderman. Any thoughts?

Third, what does our superhero do when he isn't fighting evil? Is he a jock, maybe a pilot or sports star? Does he have some mundane job like Clark Kent or Peter Parker? Maybe he's filthy rich like Bruce Wayne? What do you think?

Fourth, and this could “cancel” numbers 2 and 3 above, does he even have an alter ego? Maybe, just maybe, he doesn't keep the fact that he is a superhero secret at all. What are your thoughts on that?

I would also appreciate any other thoughts you might have. Remember that we're talking about a hokey superhero here, just like the, um, graphical novels. That means the field is pretty much wide open to anything!

You can comment to this blog post. That's the preferred way. But if you don't have a Blogger account and don't want to sign up for one for some reason, you can also E-Mail me at melodeeaaron@yahoo.com and I will post your comments back to here unless you ask me not to. Also, you can comment on FaceBook or send me a Tweet.

So, come on, folks! Let's hear it!

Keep Loving!

Melodee Aaron, Erotica Romance Author
Home Page
Melodee's Books at BookStrand


Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Happy Anniversary



Today marks the 4th anniversary of the day I married the absolute Man Of My Dreams.

Yes, I write romance novels, both standard and erotica. Anyone who reads, or writes, romance novels knows that we all, the authors that is, write about our heroine finding the perfect man. He's an alpha male, but has a tender side that he shows to our leading ladies. He's tough, willing to kill or die for her, and totally fearless, except of her. The hero is almost always tall, handsome, strong, and has a body that makes Mr. Universe look like the proverbial 97 pound weakling.

We also know that men like that don't exist in the real world.

Well, I used to know that, too...

Jack came into my life when he was hired as a security consultant. He had the needed experience having been a Navy SEAL and working for the US Secret Service. The first day I saw him, I damned near melted. It was, for me, an instant attraction, but he was married and had an infant daughter.

OK, I'll admit it. A man being married was never a red light to me to stop when it comes to making a move on him, but having kids, especially little kids, always was a line even I wouldn't cross. As far as I was concerned, Jack was off limits back then.

After a few years of working for me, Jack got a divorce. He never, in the time prior to that, showed any interest in me, and even after his divorce, he was a total professional. It seemed that he just wasn't interested in me, but I did notice that he wasn't dating anyone else.

To make a long story short, and Jack has covered some of it in his blog posting about life with me, he and his two daughters ended up living in my house.

It was at the end of a rather bad time for me when a dear friend suggested that I go out with Jack. Jack had still shown no interest in me other than as an employee and a friend, but when I told him about my friend's idea, Jack did ask me out.

From there on out, it was all free fall for me. I admitted to myself that at some point in the previous few years, I had fallen for Jack, and he made it clear to me that he felt the same way.

I won't go into all of the details, but we dated for more than six weeks before we made love. I will tell you that I had never done that before, though. I mean I had never waited six weeks before getting into bed with the person I was dating.

There is one night with Jack I do want to tell you about, though...

It was Saturday night, March 10, 2007. We were home alone because Maria (my housekeeper) had taken the girls to her house for the night so they could all get up early to go to church on Sunday morning. Jack had cooked a wonderful dinner of nothing but hamburgers and fries, and we had finished eating and were sitting in front of the fireplace on the floor sharing a bottle of wine. It was Orfila Estate Ambassadors Reserve Merlot 2003. Yeah, I remember that detail. Actually, I still have the cork from the bottle.

We were just talking and laughing, snuggling and making out a little, but nothing too extreme, but the evening was yet young and I had high hopes.

We were laughing at each other about carrying on like a pair of teenagers in the backseat of dad's car and the fact that we were both far enough away from being teenagers that we might have trouble getting up from the floor when Jack went suddenly very serious on me. With nothing but real, deep concern painted across his face, he said to me, “Melodee, I want to talk to you about something important.”

Honestly, I was scared. I had never seen Jack so serious other than a couple of times when he thought he might have what he calls a shooter in the crowd someplace. I swallowed hard, but I still didn't think I could speak very well, so I signed back to him, “Sure. What's wrong?”

He smiled at me, something like a little boy with a big secret that excited him, but that he was afraid to share for fear of getting in trouble. He signed back, “I hope nothing is wrong.” He hesitated for nearly a minute, and as he did, that cute smile faded away, replaced by an uncertainty I never even suspected Jack could harbor. He looked down for a moment, then back up and stared into my eyes. He took my hand in his and put my fingers on his lips, kissing them softly. Then, with my fingers still touching his lips so I could feel the movement and not have to rely totally on reading his lips, Jack said, “Melodee, will you marry me?”

We had drank almost the entire bottle of wine, but it wasn't the alcohol that made the room swim around me. I can still remember how my hand dropped from his face, my arm falling limp to my side as I inhaled deeply. No, I really didn't see this coming at all, and I still have no idea why not.

I had been proposed to before. I really can't remember how many times, but there was only one case when I took it seriously, but I turned him down for a number of reasons. This wasn't a new experience for me. Been there, done that.

I stared at Jack, the man I knew I loved more than I had ever loved anyone else, and I must have looked like an idiot. I felt my breath, fast and shallow, pulsing in and out of my open mouth. My heart raced in my chest. I could even feel sweat running down my back and chest as my hands got clammy. I sat there staring at him long enough that Jack signed, “Are you OK?”

I could only nod in reply. I raised my hand to sign to him, but I stopped, and I took Jack's hand in my sweaty fingers and raised his fingers to touch my lips.

I took as deep a breath as I could, and I managed to say, “Yes, Jack, I would love to marry you.”

He smiled again, but not that little boy look from before. It was like when the sun charges over the mountain at daybreak, suddenly making the dark of the night vanish and proudly announces the start of a brand new day, fresh and wonderful. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box, not from Tiffany's or one of the big-time shops, but from one of the better known local stores here in San Diego. His smile went a little sheepish and he said, “This isn't the kind of thing you're used to.” He opened the box and took a ring from it and then took my left hand and slipped the most gorgeous diamond solitaire engagement ring I have ever seen onto my finger. Jack shrugged a little. “It's not much.”

I wonder if I looked silly or like an animated cliché, but I clutched my hand to my chest, his hand still holding mine, and I replied, “It's amazing. I love it, and I love you.”

That bright smile returned to his face. “I love you, too.”

Over the last four years, Jack has pressed me several times to get a new engagement ring, something fancier and more expensive. He has it in his mind that somehow or for some reason, I need or want a ring that costs more than the one he could afford at the time he gave me the original.

As I sit here typing this, that same ring with the beautiful stone set in the bright yellow of the gold rests in the same place it has been since that evening. It has, in that time, left my finger one time for about four days when I had surgery after almost dying from a brain aneurysm. The diamond catches the light of my desk lamp and throws fire in all directions as my fingers move over the keyboard. And each flash of light, every flicker of the radiance, reminds me that the Man Of My Dreams is here with me, for all time, and that we are a part of a team made up of me, Jack, Amanda, Debbie, and JJ. The sum of the team is much greater by several orders of magnitude than the simple total of the individual parts.

The team even has a name...

Family.

And, Jack...

I love you.

Keep Loving!

Melodee Aaron, Erotica Romance Author
Home Page
Melodee's Books at BookStrand


Saturday, June 4, 2011

On Tweens and Teens



My oldest daughter, Amanda (@AmandaJDouglas on Twitter), has been the subject of a number of my blogs, and yes, here we go again.

Amanda will officially be eleven years old on Tuesday June 7th. I say “officially” because for the last eleven months and about twenty days, she has told everyone she can get to listen that she is “...almost eleven...”. I guess all kids do that, though I don't remember doing it myself.

But the transition from a little girl to a tween started a long time ago, much to the dismay of her father.

Amanda and her sister Debbie are not my biological children. They are my husband's children from his first marriage. When Jack and I were married, we convinced (long story) his ex-wife to surrender the girls and I legally adopted them. Though we share no genes, the girls and I are sometimes far too much alike for Jack's comfort. Amanda in particular has picked up my habits of being outspoken, flirtatious, and in general lacking anything even close to inhibitions.

She is also growing up pretty fast. Amanda is already 5' 4” and tips the scales at about 110 pounds. That's not at all surprising since Jack is 6' 9” and about 265 pounds, and her egg-donor is a big woman.

Jack's biggest issue is that Amanda is hitting puberty early. Well, she's still in the “normal” curve, but I think Jack would prefer her to wait a while for all of that. Until she's about 32 or so.

Anyway...

Amanda has breasts. Nice breasts that are probably going to be bigger than mine in a few years. Bitch. And all of that “baby fat” she had as a little girl is being replaced by a drop-dead hourglass figure. Her face is taking on the shape of a young woman, too, instead of the round features of a kid. Yeah, Jack hates it.

What really freaks Jack out is that Amanda's tastes in clothes are changing. Just two years ago, for example, she preferred and wore the typical little girl one-piece swimsuits. Last year, she decided she liked the modest two-piece suits. Now, she wants actual bikinis. Not quite to the string bikini stage yet, but she's getting there. The amount of material needed to make her skirts has steadily decreased, too.

Any day now, I expect Jack to chew his arm off.

While Jack has all manner of issues with Amanda growing up, Amanda herself is having some problems, too.

The biggest for her, at least right now, is that Amanda is a very good musician. She plays the guitar (several kinds that I don't understand), and sings. Well, the aforementioned growing tits are getting in the way of the guitars, and her voice is changing. What really kills her is when her voice cracks in the middle of a song.

The issue for both Jack and I is that Amanda's hormones are playing ping-pong with her brain. Nothing really too bad as of yet, but I can see it getting worse.

Just as two examples...

As I mentioned above, Amanda has a Twitter account. She is very careful about who she follows and how she interacts with them both because she is a smart girl and because her dad and I, and several of our company's network and security staff look at every single bit (not just the bytes!) of data that pass to and from her system. But, she will sometimes go past her curfew because she is either talking to or about some boy or another. Her staying up late is not the issue here. The issue is that she has agreed to shut down at a certain time, and then goes past that without telling us. Really, we have no problem so long as she asks beforehand if it's OK for her to stay up a little later, and sets a time. It's a matter of making a commitment and sticking to it.

The other matter is where she decided to order some clothes on her own. More or less. Amanda showed up in some rather, shall we say, “advanced” clothes, particularly a couple of nighties and some jeans that looked like they were applied with a spray gun. When I asked her where she got them, she told me right up front she bought them online and that her dad approved the purchases. Well, he did. Sort of. Amanda asked Jack if she could buy some clothes. He said “yes” without knowing what she was going to buy because he assumed she wanted like Winnie the Pooh pajamas. And she didn't tell him that she wanted something from Victoria's Secret. Yeah, they were both wrong on that one! I chewed Amanda's ass a little. I chewed Jack's a lot.

The point is that Amanda is pushing the envelope.

And that is exactly what she is supposed to do.

Yes, Amanda has already started saying that she's “...almost a teenager...”, and teenagers, like it or not, test limits. I can see the above behaviors, and others that we as parents can't even imagine yet, increasing in the coming years.

But that's OK with me. I know that is part of growing up and becoming the woman that Amanda will soon (much too soon for me, too) become. My job, as her mom, is to guide her as best as I can into womanhood, to teach her the things that a woman needs to know.

Like when the diamond in the bling-bling is big enough to damned near faint over.

Seriously, I know my job will be easy. Amanda is, as I said, a good girl, and she loves and respects both her dad and me. She will, almost certainly, want more freedom than we will give her, but she will understand why the limits are there. And she will, from time-to-time, test those limits. We will need to respond with love and firmness, and explain to her, maybe for the 87th time, why the limits are there.

While Jack would probably prefer to Amanda to stay his little girl forever, we both know she will grow up. And she will grow up into a woman we will both be proud of.

Me personally?

I can't wait!

Keep Loving!

Melodee Aaron, Erotica Romance Author
Home Page
Melodee's Books at BookStrand