Giselle Renarde's Blog

Infuriating Technology (or, Crisis at the Craft Store) (or, Giselle Needs Professional Help)

This post was written in 2015

I'm much more patient than I used to be. Much less irritable, too.

But something happened earlier in the week that really set me off: my computer started acting up.  Maybe you can relate.  There's something about electronic devices not doing what they're supposed to do that's absolutely maddening.

I can handle a lot of intense stuff pretty calmly.  I have certification (albeit lapsed) in crisis prevention and intervention. Does that mean I never have out-of-control moments myself? Nope. I had one just a couple days ago. We'll get to that.

Last week I was at Michael's (the craft store) when a man burst through the door screaming and swearing.  Customers RAN from this person, who was obviously in crisis and perhaps has mental health issues.  While he screamed that he'd lost his towel and he was having a very bad day, a staff member asked if she could help him. She spoke clearly and casually, without a hint of fear and without that demeaning therapist voice people sometimes use when they don't know what they're doing.

The man asked for a product the store didn't carry (not a towel, by the way).  The staff member made a suggestion about where he might find it, which inflamed the man because he'd already been there.  He shouted about all the stores he'd visited. Nobody had what he needed.

The staff member listened without rushing him or interrupting. She eventually suggested a store he hadn't tried, and he left without escalation. The situation was handled extremely well. When you're speaking with a person in crisis, things can go really bad really fast. Here, they didn't.

Around the same time, my computer started acting up. Slowing down. Not responding.

Annoying, right?  I'm no expert, but I couldn't figure out what the problem was. I started running scans. Scan after scan after scan.  Nothing seemed to be working. The solutions I implemented to my possible problems only exacerbated them.

I can't remember exactly what set me off.  After five days of getting zero work done because all my energy was going into resolving this issue, I had a bit of a mental health event myself.  The helplessness of not being able to fix my stupid little problem culminated in an explosion of screaming, swearing, crying, rocking, and punching myself in the head (a new one, for me). I'd lost my towel. I was having a very bad day.

It was a true crisis moment, brought on by... computer problems?

When I was a teenager, I remember a teacher trying to warn me off my ex because he'd once kicked the crap out of a photocopier.

There's something about technology.  It brings out my inner rage in a way humans never can.  I used to have a printer that could provoke similar reactions, though never as intense as this event. This was a bad one. I've never hit myself before. That was new and painful and actually pretty scary.

My computer's still not working properly. Mostly, programs randomly choose not to respond for reasons that remain a mystery. When this happens, I get up and walk away and do something else for a minute.  I know I have to take a breath and distract myself or risk another meltdown.

A close friend suggested seeking professional help, meaning an IT person. That made me laugh, because when my girlfriend made that same suggestion she was talking about a healthcare professional.

I think they're both right. Giselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

Sexy Surprises Beyond Bed: 6 Erotic Stories

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Sexy Surprises Beyond Bed
6 Erotic Stories
by Giselle Renarde
Series: Sexy Surprises
Volume 60
Word Count: 10,000
ISBN: 9798232226541

Who says passion belongs in bed?

Sexy Surprises Beyond Bed is a daring collection of six steamy short stories where desire refuses to wait for bedtime. These tales take you to unexpected places—sometimes wild, sometimes domestic, but always sizzling—where heat flares up when and where it’s least expected.

From a midnight field party that turns into something unforgettable to a playful encounter on campus, these stories celebrate lust, love, and the thrill of breaking routine. Couples and lovers find themselves in cars, on kitchen tables, and even on a slick and soapy bathroom tile. Every story offers a different setting, a new surprise, and characters who are more than ready to seize the moment—wherever they happen to be.

If you like your romance spontaneous, spicy, and more than a little bit naughty, Sexy Surprises Beyond Bed will keep you turning pages and wondering where the next encounter might take you. Open the book and discover just how exciting things can get when you step outside the bedroom.

Buy Now from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FSDMMQHG?tag=dondes-20
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=ufWIEQAAQBAJ

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sexy-surprises-beyond-bed-giselle-renarde/1148351941
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/sexy-surprises-beyond-bed

Find more retailers with the Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/u/47Dq9EGiselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

Swinging on a Slow Pendulum

Songs from your childhood make you feel young again.

I forget where I heard that. Probably on TV. But it makes me think of documentary I watched about music therapy. They interviewed a guy whose job was to visit long-term care facilities and lead singalongs with the residents, many of whom had dementia. This singalong guy figured he'd learn a bunch of songs from across the decades, but he found that when he played popular music from the 60s, 70s, 80s, the residents weren't interested, or they didn't remember the tunes.

It was only when he started singing songs from the 30s and 40s, when the elderly residents were young, that everyone joined in. From then on, it was all WWII era music all the time. Even residents whose dementia was very advanced remembered the old songs word for word.

I'm not exactly elderly, but lately I find I'm drawn back to the music of my youth. I didn't have the easiest childhood (in fact, I lived through a lot of what they're now calling Adverse Childhood Experiences), but I was lucky enough to find an escape hatch in the family record player.

When I was a preteen, I fell in love with Broadway musicals. Don't ask me how I got my introduction to musical theatre. My father was obsessed with Elvis. My mother never listened to music at all. My dad's record collection was vast, but it didn't include any Broadway. I used to go to the library and flip through the record stacks and check out every soundtrack I could get my hands on. I'd bring my records home and copy them onto cassette tapes so I could listen to them in my bedroom. I had a tape player of my own, but not my own turntable. Vinyl was on its way out. (Now it's on its way back in--funny, that.)

I think one of the things I most loved about musicals was that they were stories I could get lost inside. I would play my tapes over and over and over again. It's a wonder they didn't snap. I would listen until I'd memorized every lyric to every song. I could have sung the entire Phantom of the Opera soundtrack to anyone who was interested. (No one was.) And I recall a weirdly obsessive crush I had on some girl at my school because she looked (in my mind) like the actress who played Jenny in Aspects of Love.

After finding a bunch of my old tapes in my mother's basement a few months ago, I discovered something pretty amazing: all these years later, I still remember the lyrics to all those soundtracks. I haven't heard them in ages. Doesn't matter. The music's locked in my brain and the words are there with them.

I've read that as Carl Jung got older, he would go down to the river and carve tiny rivulets into the earth, leading the water off in different directions. This was a favourite childhood activity of his, and he came back to it in old age. 

More and more, I feel like life swings on a slow pendulum. I'm going back to the place I came from, and maybe I'll get there one day. There's a word I learned in university, a word I no longer remember--it means nostalgia for a past you never actually experienced. I've got a case of that, big time. 
My childhood was full of trauma, and yet there's something about it I want back. I'm not sure what. Maybe just the music.
Giselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

Roleplay Sexy Surprises: 6 Erotic Stories

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Roleplay Sexy Surprises
6 Erotic Stories
Series: Sexy Surprises
Volume 59
by Giselle Renarde
Word Count: 11,000
ISBN: 9798231070831

When the lights go down, the real performance begins.

Roleplay Sexy Surprises is a collection of six erotic stories where nothing—and no one—is quite what they seem. These aren’t your typical clichés of cops and naughty drivers. Instead, every scene is a plunge into the unexpected, where imagination collides with desire and partners explore the hidden corners of their fantasies.

From elaborate games of power and surrender to carefully crafted scenes that blur the line between reality and performance, each story unveils roleplay at its most intoxicating. Lovers slip into personas that awaken hidden cravings, indulging in fetishes and kinks that might be a little darker than they’d ever dare outside the fantasy. Yet at the core of every story is something unshakable: partners who trust, who know each other’s boundaries, and who take turns leading the dance into pleasure.

If you crave your erotica with mystery, edge, and delicious thrills, Roleplay Sexy Surprises will keep you guessing until the final curtain falls. Open the book, take your place on the stage, and prepare for the kind of performance you’ll never forget.

Buy Now from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FM49KDVB?tag=dondes-20
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=oQJ5EQAAQBAJ

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/roleplay-sexy-surprises-giselle-renarde/1148029361
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/roleplay-sexy-surprises

Find more retailers with the Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/u/bpoLOqGiselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

Gratitude

This post was written in 2015
Last week I had a dream. I dreamed I still worked in an office, in the industry that employed me in the early 2000's. I dreamed my client was freaking out about some ridiculously minor issue. It felt so familiar. That was my every day when I worked in the business world: clients losing their shit over nothing, and taking their frustrations out on the people below them.

My late grandfather's favourite expression was "Shit flows downstream." That's the business world for you.

In the dream I got into work just after 8 in the morning, and all day I kept reminding myself I had to leave on time. I'd promised to cook dinner for my grandmother.

In the real world, I've taken on more of a caregiver role in my grandmother's life. She's hard of hearing, legally blind, and has a number of physical limitations. I help her with things she can no longer do on her own: cooking, cleaning, paperwork, communications. I act as a support person on occasion. She's been asking me to move in with her for almost a decade. She trusts me. I know it hurts her that I always decline, but I'm not prepared to devote the rest of her life to being a full-time caregiver. I value my freedom too much.

Back in dreamworld, my workday went by in a stressful blur. The next time I looked at my watch, it was almost 11 at night. Well past dinnertime and I hadn't cooked my grandmother's meal. The pressures of work and family were pulling me in two directions and work had won out.

I woke up that morning feeling relieved to live this life and not that one. I don't make a ton of money as an author, but I earn enough to pay the bills. I have readers, not clients. I have time to devote to my family, to my relationship. I sleep in every morning and go to bed late every night.

I write stories for a living. I am incredibly grateful for the life I have.

I'm also so grateful to be in a position where I can use my work to raise funds for a number of organizations. My latest release, Food of Love, is an anthology of food sex stories. Sink that sweet tooth into this collection of gourmet erotica and you’ll not only feel great about your purchase, but you’ll also be doing your part to end food insecurity in Canada’s North. That’s because I'm donating 100% of royalties earned from this book to food banks accommodating immediate needs and community services with a long-term focus on country foods and land-based programs in Nunavut, Yukon and the Northwest Territories.

Food of Love is available from many vendors including Amazon
Kobo
iTunes
Barnes and Noble
Giselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

Fetish Sexy Surprises: 6 Erotic Stories

[image error]Fetish Sexy Surprises
6 Erotic Stories
by Giselle Renarde
Series: Sexy Surprises
Volume 58
Word Count: 12,000
ISBN: 9798230753292

What turns you on might be hiding just around the corner.

Fetish Sexy Surprises is a seductive collection of six erotic stories where the only thing you can expect is the unexpected. From tender to rough, romantic to raw, each tale invites you into a new fantasy where someone gets exactly what they crave.

A married man and his younger mistress add a new layer to their dynamic when they explore an unexpected fetish. A bored lesbian couple dares to shake things up, and they like what they find. On vacation, one couple tests the limits of their trust. Some encounters are loving, others merciless, but all of them pulse with the thrill of discovery—both of the body and the self. These stories take sharp turns into kink, connection, and carnal delight.

If you love your erotica with surprise twists, bold kinks, and irresistible tension, Fetish Sexy Surprises will keep you guessing—and gasping—until the very last page. Open it. You never know what might be waiting for you.

Buy from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FGCR95FP?tag=dondes-20
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=y9xpEQAAQBAJ

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/fetish-sexy-surprises/id6748029394
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1801569
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/fetish-sexy-surprises

Find more retailers with the Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/u/3GZ2xnGiselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

Library Voices

This post was written in 2015

Once upon a time I was a teenager at the Toronto Reference Library.

A friend had introduced me to this edifice downtown, far from the wilds of suburbia, where books were housed, sure, but in addition to books they had all sorts of other media.  Oh sure, so did my local library, but the difference with the Reference Library was that they had listening booths.

My friend showed me how to select a CD to listen to (a CD!  I didn't have a CD player yet!  This was really the future!) and check in with the lady guarding the listening booths and put on headphones and sit... and just listen.

We were both big on Broadway musicals, so we both picked out musicals to listen to.  I don't remember what she selected, but I picked out a musical called City of Angels.  I'd never even heard of it.  To this day I remember nothing about the soundtrack, but I remember the experience.

I wasn't the kind of kid (or teen) who went out with friends very much. I had too many family responsibilities, plus the cost of going out was prohibitive. To get to the Reference Library, I had to take a bus and a subway, and, while my mother covered the cost of my transit fare to and from school (I went to a high school that was out of area for me, a good hour from my house), any time I wanted to go anywhere that wasn't school-related it was my responsibility to cover my transit costs.

Part of the reason I didn't go out with friends much is that the things they wanted to do cost money.  I was saving my money for university.

From the time I could write words on paper, every year at Christmas I would put the same one item in my letter to Santa: a university education. My parents hadn't gone to university.  My grandparents hadn't finished high school.  I would be the first in my family to get a degree.

You'd think a mom would be proud that her child had such lofty aspirations, but something else won out over pride with my mom--either pragmatism or crab-bucket jealousy, I don't know.  Every year she'd laugh at my letter to Santa.  She'd say, "If you want to go to university, you're on your own. I'm not paying for it."

I got my first summer job when I was 8 years old.  Picking berries. Same first job my grandfather had 58 years before me.  He earned half a penny per pint.  I earned 25 cents. Thank you, inflation.

But that money didn't last long.  Because the thing about living with a substance abuser is that sometimes they steal from you. Sometimes they steal every penny of berry picking money you earn. Babysitting money, birthday money. Addiction breeds desperation.

It's true what they say: life isn't fair.

And, you see, this is why it was a very difficult decision to go out or not to go out: can I afford to spend $1.35 on transit fare?  It'll take a lot of dollar-thirty-fives to add up to a university education.

So, more than not, I stayed home.

But that day, when my friend invited me to the Reference Library, I decided to go out. Of all the friend-dates a person could go on, the library's a pretty good one.  And not just because it's free, although that's an attractive quality for sure.  It was more the fact that we could sit side by side at listening booths and just... listen.  No talking allowed.  Libraries were different back then.

Not being allowed to talk can really be quite freeing.  People found me standoffish as a teen, but that's really because I had so much shame about my family of origin.  I didn't want people trying to get close to me and discovering what was behind the facade.  I didn't want people asking questions.

My friend didn't ask me a lot of questions. I didn't ask her questions either. I knew it was just her and her mom.  I didn't ask about her father because I didn't want her to ask about mine.  By that time my mother had a restraining order against him. He lived in a motel room in a small town, but he often swung by our place to break into our house, destroy our belongings, and threaten to murder us all.

One time my friend invited me to her place when her mom was at work.  She wasn't supposed to have people over, but her mother would never know.  It was kind of exciting for me to take the streetcar to her neighbourhood because she lived in a gentrified area with lots of quirky boutiques.

As it turned out, her house was one of the forgotten left-behind ones.  It was the tiniest house I'd ever seen, just two small bedrooms of one main living area that incorporated the kitchen. There must have been a bathroom somewhere but I can't recall seeing it.

The bedrooms had carpeting, but the main room was just a dirt floor covered in pine needles.

My friend transferred out of my school in Grade 10.  I heard she went to an alternative school, but I don't think she lasted long there. In Grade 12, I went to a university fair at the convention centre and there was my friend! I hadn't seen her in two years. I was overjoyed to see her again. I loved her in a way I still hadn't learned to express.

But she wasn't attending the university fair as a prospecting high school student. She was working it as a security guard. She'd dropped out of high school. She hoped to return at some point but she and her mom really needed the money and, well, you know how it is...

After working part-time and summer jobs throughout high school, I was able to afford my first year of tuition at the University of Toronto, but it was tight. Throughout university, I think I spent more time working than studying.

When I finally had that degree in hand, it was really a non-event. Aside from my grandmother, nobody in my family seemed to care much about my achievement.  But I never expected them to.

Giselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

Foot and Shoe Fetish Sexy Surprises

[image error] Foot and Shoe Fetish Sexy Surprises 6 Erotic Stories Series: Sexy Surprises Volume 57 by Giselle Renarde Word Count: 15,000 ISBN: 9798231188161
Step into desire with Foot and Shoe Fetish Sexy Surprises, a sizzling collection of six erotic stories where passion meets stockings, heels, and bare skin. From soft arches to stunning footwear, every tale explores the delicious terrain of foot and shoe play through the eyes—and bodies—of characters who are queer, straight, and trans. Whether it’s the sting of a stiletto or the tenderness of a toe kiss, these stories go deep into the fantasies that live below the knee.

In these pages, reunion turns to revelation as old friends reconnect at a wedding. A butch lesbian finds herself falling hard for the radiant femme who polishes more than just nails at the local salon. Domination, submission, devotion, and surprise encounters unfold in unexpected places. Each story balances lust with heart, proving that fetish and romance can make exquisite bedfellows.

Whether you're here for the slow burn or the high heat, Foot and Shoe Fetish Sexy Surprises delivers pleasure in all its forms—tender, rough, playful, and raw. Laced with fantasy and grounded in vibrant identities, this anthology invites you to indulge and surrender.

Buy Now from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F9FWW7VG?tag=dondes-20
Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=hy1fEQAAQBAJ

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/foot-and-shoe-fetish-sexy-surprises/id6746136962
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1773371
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/foot-and-shoe-fetish-sexy-surprises

Everand: https://www.everand.com/book/864123759/Foot-and-Shoe-Fetish-Sexy-Surprises-Sexy-Surprises-57

Find more retailers with the Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/u/mlorBZGiselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

The journey toward paying the rent starts with a single sale

Sometimes I lose sight of what's really important.

It's very easy to be swayed by all sorts of factors, even when you're a strongheaded person. Greed is a communicable disease. If you surround yourself with people who always want more, more, more, you're bound to catch it.

Humility is a quality I greatly admire, but it's never been my strong suit. The thing about selling books for a living is that books don't cost a lot of money. Each individual sale doesn't bring in a ton of dough. If you make your living as a writer, as I do, you have to sell a lot of books to pay the rent. Each individual sale is a drop in the ocean.

It's taken a drastic downturn in book sales for me to realize what a huge compliment every single sale is.

I don't know why it's taken me so long to realize this. I don't buy a lot of books myself. I read every day, but I get my books from libraries. The last book I bought was Janet Mock's Redefining Realness. In Canadian dollars, it was just over $20. I'm a low income earner. I saved up to buy it. I love that book. It's outstanding. I held it in such high esteem that, when the audiobook came out, I encouraged my library system to purchase a copy. They did. Sweet did the same with her library system, and they purchased the audiobook too.

Buying Redefining Realness was important to me. It was an experience. I still read in print, but the first bookstore I went to didn't carry it.  Saving for the book, going out on multiple excursions to find it in the world, and then buying my own copy... this was all very meaningful to me.

That was one sale of one book for Janet Mock. It was a memorable experience for me. I cherish that my copy.
My copy of Redefining Realness, with my favourite sections flagged. 
I'd never considered that, when readers buy my books, they might be having similar experiences--and if not similar experiences, at least similar feelings. There's so much hope and anticipation infused into a book purchase. Readers are really hoping to find what they're looking for inside your story. Your words matter to them.

It's hard for me to imagine readers holding my words in high esteem, because I don't hold myself in high esteem. When I think there are people out there, people like me, who don't earn a lot of money but they've saved up to buy a book I've written, I feel humbled. I take that as such a huge compliment.

And it's not just the spending money aspect. It's the spending time aspect, too. So many people are so busy, and there's so much entertainment out there in the world, and in here in our computers. There are so many ways to be entertained and amused. It blows me away that people spend their time with my words, with my work.

In order for me to pay my rent and put food on the table (and in my cats' bowls), I need to sell hundreds of books every month. If I only sold one, I'd be in trouble. I think that's why I lost sight of how incredibly important every single sale is. The journey toward paying the rent starts with a single sale.

I never used to feel particularly emotional about book sales. I do now, more and more. The fewer books I sell, the more I value each individual sale. Each reader. Each minute spent consuming my work.

I need readers. I need sales. Without them, I wouldn't have anything to eat. I wouldn't have a roof over my head. But I'd lost sight of two very important truths: each reader is a blessing; each sale is a compliment. I hope to hell I don't lose sight of that again.


Giselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!

The Crisis in Midlife

This post was written in 2018
I'll tell you how I've been feeling lately.

I've been feeling like every worthwhile thing I'm ever going to do in my life--everything good, everything useful, everything productive--I've already done. The best is behind me. I'm just waiting out my sentence.

Last month, my mother told me I'm not a spring chicken anymore. That threw me for a loop. Isn't your mother supposed to think of you as a child for always? But when I told my girlfriend, she said, "Yeah, well you're middle aged."

Middle aged?

My ex, who (as you know) was much older than me, used to say that every time he looked in the mirror, he expected to see his 18-year-old self. And instead he saw an old man. It was jarring.

I didn't get that when I was 19.

I get it now.

The thing I really didn't get is that a midlife crisis is... well... a crisis. Crisis in the sense of crisis counseling, crisis lines, crisis intervention. The term always made me think of sports cars and 22-year-old girlfriends, but there's more to the story. Holy Mother of God, is there more to this story.

There's a reason you try to recapture your lost youth: that's when you accomplished everything of value. Or, at least, that's when I did. Or, at least, that's how I feel. But you're talking to someone who peaked in high school. Your mileage may vary.

I'm sure there are ways to feel useful again. Volunteer work and such. But volunteer work is just one more of those things I did when I was younger. I worked in the domestic violence sector for years, and I burned out so hard I can't even tell you. I've volunteered my ass all over this city, and most organizations (the big box charities in particular) have left me disillusioned at best and disgusted at worst.

In a perfect world, I would feel fulfilled by my work.  So I've devoted a lot of my time and energy to projects I felt would be helpful to others. The thing is, in order for your book to help anyone, someone in the world has to... read it. And when you get to the point where you write something super-meaningful and then you literally can't even give it away for free, it becomes pretty clear that the work isn't going to dig you out of this hole.

Now I get why people go back to what gave them pleasure as children, as youths. There's a simple joy to childhood that's so hard to recapture decades later.  The lights dim over time. The world is less shiny and bright.

Maybe I've been watching too many YouTube videos about nihilism and existential angst, but lately I've been wondering if I should even bother trying to do anything of value, if anything actually has innate value anyway, or if we're all just marking time.

I remember having fantasies, when I was young. Fantasies about all the exciting things I would do in the future. I would imagine scenarios in detail. It was really energizing. Made me want to get up in the morning and work toward my goals.

Now? In midlife, or whatever this is?

I don't have fantasies anymore.

How do you get through life when it seems like your best days are behind you?

I'm taking it one day at a time.
Giselle RenardeCanada just got hotter!