Sandra Ross's Blog, page 4

Beware – April Fool’s Day!

Have you ever been to a pond or a body of water where there are growths of plants? Have you heard those creatures calling out to you “krrbetch!” Long ago I had a silly encounter with one of these creatures. I remembered being with a playmate, a much older boy. I think I was about eight and he was twelve. We were neighbours and we go on nature escapades with most of the young ones of the same age range as we were. I think his name is Marty, or something similar.

In this particular escapade, we were looking for some species of plants for his botany assignment and he has conscripted al the young ones to “work” for him in return for some cookies from his mom. Well, as I poked at some leaves with a long stick, a thing few out of the dense growth and landed – of all places – inside my blouse!

I had shorts on, and so that squiggly creature which was a frog kept bobbing up and down trying to get out. I cried out in desperation and Marty literally flew to my rescue. Since the frog couldn’t get out topside, he decided to pull off my shorts just enough to let the frog loose. To my horror – and his – we both discovered I forgot to wear undies. Sometimes I do this on account of the hot weather.

We were just totally shocked but I was first to recover and pulled up my shorts. From then on, he gave me free cookies, just for listening to his stories of what happened with some of the girls and boys in school. We formed some sort of a kinship. I retold this story to the kids just for the fun of it. Who would have thought they would recall this embarrassing episode this Monday morning?

Imagine my shock when upon opening the ref door, something flew out and landed on top of my head with a loud “krrbetch!”. Perhaps, the intent was harmless from their point of view, but it was criminal to my mind being executed early in the morning when I was half awake. So, that same morning, I made a quick trip to the supermarket and searched around a pack in the frozen section.

Come lunch time, when they were all seated around the table, pretending innocence but giggling among themselves – Jonathan including – I opened a covered dish to show them the delicacy inside. Caramelized frogs legs in a bed of beans, baby carrots and young corn! You can’t begin to imagine the horror in their faces — everybody’s eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets and their mouths were forming a big “oh!” but the words got strangled on the way out. It appeared that the frog was a neighbor’s pet lent to them for the April Fool trick on dear mom.

What is the last word? Don’t dish it when you can’t take it.

 

Be careful out there,

Sandra Ross

Egg Hunting

“The child is the father of the man.”

Parenting is never easy. But you can’t complain because it plays a crucial role in a person’s life. Who you are today is a product of child-rearing, an outcome of childhood activities and experiences. And those things that you’ve been introduced and taught of as a child, they become a part of you – always.

It’s Easter Sunday! Families with kids have probably planned a barbecue party with an Easter bunny. Plus, party planner parents have devised a special outdoor activity – egg hunting! Kids anticipate this day so much. Its biblical etiology gives a million reasons for us to celebrate and be merry. But I can’t suppress my naughty-minded tendency.

Bunny. Egg. These words are not very child-friendly. No wonder kids these days grow up hunting for eggs like bunnies. But you don’t have to listen to me. I’m an erotic writer. I see green in everything!

 

Happy hunting,

Sandra Ross

Romantik Hotel

What’s in a name? In a little trip to Germany, it’s everything.

The Romantik Hotel lives up to its name which promises romance. Hidden away in the small historic town of Wiedenbruk, this hotel quietly beckons a day’s – or week’s – tryst. Suffice to say, dear readers, we never got out of bed during our stay.

But who needs summer heat when you’re starting a fire that could burn this town? Some bonding trips to the other side of the world need just that, bonding.

Plan your next romantic getaway,

Sandra Ross

Hot N’ Spicy, Never Skinny

Weight loss – it’s the most generic New Year’s resolution that we could only afford to live by for at most a week. I do understand and support the fight against obesity. What I could not comprehend and refuse to attempt to fathom, is a trim down for unhealthy reasons. Men as we are, we have judgmental tendencies. And our favorite person to pick on is ourselves, bare and naked in front of a mirror after a shower. We see flaws – hideous pendulous adipose. Whatever the odds, they must go.

What do I have to do with this? You’re probably wondering this in the back of your mind. Yesterday, my bladder reached maximum capacity while I window-shopped at a local mall. I found a vacant cubicle in the women’s restroom. Next door to my right, I heard a sound too far off from what I was making. She was gagging – forcefully. I sneaked a peak of her as we washed hands side by side. She looked no olderthan 17, at least five foot six, slender and pretty.

I am neither a lifestyle coach nor a gym instructor. But a part of me feels responsible for causing a dysfunctional teenage frenzy. My books, along with Photoshop pictures in magazines, implicitly define beauty and sexy in the world today. Female cover girls and my female protagonists have a lot of things in common – flat stomach, big round breasts, long lean legs. If I were a teenager, I would definitely ask, “Are those physical features a set of prerequisites to finding true love and romance?” Even if my books show otherwise, my answer is No.

This guilt feeling that strangulates my soul won’t let loose unless I state my claim. I study erotic sensuality in depth. My opinion on this issue could be admissible in court as an expert witness’ statement. And the transcripts would quote:

Beauty is not reconstructing your face to be a spitting image of your favorite actor. It is having a distinct feature and a standout color that make you an instant head turner. Sexy is not squeezing into size 0 jeans or being as light as a breath of fresh air. It is having the confidence to strut the body you are in despite an outward curve here and there.

You were born to be beautiful. But you won’t be until you believe you are.

 

Hello beautiful,

Sandra Ross

Sweet Temptations

A smart guy brings her flowers. A wise man brings her chocolates. Why? It’s because chocolates are an aphrodisiac, something that increases sex drive. This is not small talk. Research backs me on this. Consider yourself lucky to be coming across this useful information – the best way to a girl’s G-spot is through her sweet tooth.

It was a beautiful day in Venice, Italy. I found these chocolates displayed in the window of a small Venetian candy shop. Chocolate bars with carvings of sexual positions. The artistry of these products potentiates aphrodisiac effects to a whole new level. I wish I could give one to each of my readers, because sex and chocolate go so well together – before, during, or after. Yum!

Not-so-gentle men, grab a pen and take this all in – especially if you’re a 35-year old virgin. The only thing standing between you and her bed is a chocolate bar.

 

Make a wise investment,

Sandra Ross

My Baby and Me

Like most of us, I’ve always dreamed of seeing the world – holding him with one hand, and a camera with the other. But I don’t have any issues whatsoever with letting go of my husband’s grip to capture a sunset view. I love Jonathan. He knows that. But amidst picture-perfect scenery, I hold on to my baby.

My baby – the first thing I pack for every trip. I check my bags for my camera more frequently than I do for my passport and plane ticket. I couldn’t ask for a better company than Jonathan. He’s a walking, talking world atlas. Where I am is always made more special by who I’m with. But it is the panorama I bring home that completes each new experience.

Looking at my snapshots awakens the artist in me. It gives me bits and pieces of bright ideas that I could develop into a new storyline. You may find it odd and eccentric, but my photos speak to me. And when I listen well, I could capture the message and relay it to you through a fresh concept novel.

Some people say photography is no fun. All effort is yours while somebody or something else takes the spotlight. I guess it’s not for everybody. That’s why this world’s got a long list of possible hobbies. I found mine. And I’ve never been happier.

I’m a photo junkie. And I’m proud of it.

 

Stick around for my pictures,

Sandra Ross

A Sticky Question: Spit or Swallow?

Note: There is a poll embedded within this post, please visit the site to participate in this post's poll.

High school was many years ago. But some memories of it just never get old. One of them is this out of nowhere question that pops up randomly during recess. It’s very casual, really. A friend pokes you from behind and you stare blankly with a lifted eyebrow – Spit or Swallow? That is the question. Whichever you choose, everyone giggles. You try to portray innocence. But what they see is ignorance.

Spit or Swallow — spit or swallow what? The question in itself is constructed poorly. Don’t say that, though, unless you want to end up with a Nerd Alert below your yearbook photo. It’s high school. Nobody cares about grammatical ingenuity. Just answer the darned inquiry and get things over with! And I did. Everybody did. But I would assume that less than half my circle meant what they answered. We can’t all be experienced at that time. At least, I wasn’t.

But I am now. Way too experienced, as my books would reflect. So it’s high time for me to take a small trip down memory lane and reiterate my stand on the poll topic at hand. Spit or swallow? For those who did not follow, yes this is a green joke. It’s not about a cup of boiling hot coffee or pork blood in your wine glass or whatever childish prank. It’s about semen – the ultimate symbol of a man’s satisfaction.

Several ways could lead a man to his worldly paradise. The human body is a train ticket to heaven. Trips are scheduled hourly – or more frequently. The friction of your hands, the wetness of your mouth, the tightness of your genital and the other opening adjacent to it are your tools for homicide. Whoever you’re doing will die, or at least wish they did, for the electric effects of release to never end. That’s how respected semen is by your man. In front of you, it flows. Will you keep it or let it go?

I would keep it, like I always do. Swallowing was and still is an automatic response for me. Seeing the outcome of my man’s ecstasy is like smelling roasted duck five feet away. I just have to go grab it and take it in! It’s a strong urge. I don’t even have to think about it. It’s unconscious and almost involuntary. It’s one of those times that Freudian psychology epitomizes through me. Id overrules my maturity. Beyond logic or reason, my instinctive impulse seeks my own share of due and worthy satisfaction.

Spit or Swallow? This is not a scholastic exam. There is no right or wrong answer. I just thought it would be fun to randomly ask like we’re a bunch of high school kids at recess. Cast your vote or comment me on your preference. Your perspective might just be what I need to heighten the heat of my new book.

 

 

Read you later,

Sandra Ross

Hello World!

What could be a more fitting pilot post than “Hello World”? I can’t believe I didn’t come up with that myself (face palm!). I had to ask my website guru for a suggestion and he gave me a perfectly tailored answer.

Hello – because it’s how relationships start. World – because that’s who I’m reaching out to.

So, Hello World! It’s nice to finally meet you. Before anything else, let me just give a shoutout to whoever invented the internet. I’m right in front of my computer screen moving no more than ten fingers, yet my thoughts and words are traversing oceans and borders. Thank you for this modern day miracle!

Speaking of miracles, you may find this hard to believe but you’re looking at a big one right now. This entire web platform dedicated to me, Sandra Ross, feels like having my face carved on Mount Rushmore. And that, my friends, is an understatement. When I was just a little girl, all I wanted was to write romance. At thirty-one, I now long to write and to be read. And this website is my avenue in making those dreams come true.

I live and breathe for fans of romance (a.k.a. everyone). Like it or not, we all have a hopeless romantic lingering inside of us. Whatever brought you here, you’re in the right place. I have a budding library of books from where you will find your favorite new classic. If you don’t, sue me.

As for this blog, well what can I say? I’m a writer. I can’t help but blabber through a keyboard. I have a pool of random thoughts and ideas. They could all lead to one of two things – a life lesson or a brief intermission. You got nothing to lose if you read on. Besides, my posts don’t end with my last word. I believe in democracy. Comments are always welcome! I’m all ears. Or shall I say, eyes.

I think that was a mouthful of welcome. I really appreciate you dropping by. You are one lovely acquaintance. Keep in touch, won’t you?

 

Cheers to new friends,

Sandra Ross

Soul Mates Kiss: Witching Call Part 1

Lola Ravensworth was a reluctant but powerful witch, while Marcus Swan was an orphan who knew there was something different about him, but never guessed it was a warlock bloodline.

This four part paranormal series unfolds as we join Lola, a reluctant witch, on the hunt for Marcus, an ignorant warlock, to bring him to the Council of Witches and Warlocks to be educated about his powers.

She headed to New Orleans to find him. He was a surprise–handsome, young, filthy rich and couldn’t be more perfect. She was to head back to New York on her birthday–the eve of Samhain, when news of the strongest flood Louisiana has ever seen were broadcasted on TV. The weather turned in favor of fate instead of her wishes.

Dark Knight in Disguise I: Earthbound Angels Book 1

Erick Angell was an angel who had protested too many about the human race and been thrown in the world as a human. And he’s just one among men who’d been cursed with the living flesh and still could not be able to shake their nature as angels, defender of the light in a world full of blight.

Erick Angell wore a mask. A rich man, he sounded full of himself when Hollianne Talbot first talked to him on the phone. But she was instantly mesmerized when she finally met him and saw how beautiful he was. He seemed like an angel. What was more, he provided her with the chance to start a new life at a time when nothing was going on for her. He literally saved her. Like a guardian angel.