Liz Everly's Blog, page 144
October 20, 2013
Stimulate Your Senses
This weekend, I attended the New Jersey Romance Writers annual Put Your Heart in a Book Conference. This is one of my favorite regional conferences and not just because NJRW is my home chapter. It’s well-attended and well-stocked with great speakers and topics; well-stocked at the bar too (though never with enough bartenders, unfortunately.) I get away from life for a little while and get to talk about romance novels and the romance publishing industry and hot bad ass men, sexy, snarky, bad ass women (though that might just be me) , and all the lovely stories we love to create around them. The conference always stimulates me as the conversations and instruction renew my love for writing, restore confidence in myself, and infuse my (constantly fluctuating) motivation with new energy and purpose.
This year was a little different as I served as assistant chair of editor/agent appointments and thus was unable to attend many workshops. In fact, I wasn’t able to do much of anything outside of those responsibilities, including drum up a sufficiently tantalizing and intellectually stimulating post for today.
I feel bad about that. I really do. You choose to visit with us here LadySmut and you should have some kind of takeaway when you do so, something that stimulates enough to propel you through the week.
Far be it for me to let you down.
Feel stimulated?
Follow Lady Smut for rapid and recurring stimulation every day.
I Miss Zipless — Are Nice Girls Retaking Romance?
By Alexa Day
A very sweet person almost talked me out of romance.
I don’t remember what she did for a living, but I think it was something that involved lots of nurturing. She was probably a teacher, surrounded by lots of small children. She didn’t date all that much, but at the same time, she was really upset that she wasn’t married by the time she turned 29. And then … well, I don’t want to speak out of turn … but she was a virgin. She’d never even seen a naked man before.
This very sweet person was the heroine of almost all the romance novels available to me when I started reading romance. She drove me crazy, and not in a good way. Then I felt bad about being frustrated with her. She was such a sweetheart. Didn’t she deserve happiness?
Of course she did. But you know who else deserves happiness?
I do. A non-nurturer who likes kids well enough, as long as their parents aren’t planning to leave them here with me. A woman who has dated long enough to reach a certain age without getting married. And while I’m sure not going to speak out of turn about myself, I don’t mind saying that I have seen a couple of guys in their birthday suits without falling in love with them.
Now before you say my mother was probably insulating me from the more provocative romances, you should know that Mom introduced me to Rosemary Rogers. THE INSIDERS and THE CROWD PLEASERS are both full of not-so-nice people who have been everywhere. Everywhere. Mom also gave me the copy of LOVE GAME on my keeper shelf, as well as the Helen Gurley Brown book, HAVING IT ALL. The onslaught of sweet heroines was not Mom’s fault.
There are no innocents here.
Still, those nice girls almost put me off romance entirely. I don’t remember how I decided to start writing the heroines I wanted to read, the women who had been around and seen a lot of the world and certainly weren’t going to fall in love with the first dude they shared a bed with. By the time I started writing those stories, those heroines had begun to appear in greater abundance, and I was able to start reading with hope again.
Today, I’m concerned that the sweet girl is gaining a foothold in romance again. Even in my chosen genre, I see heroines with self-esteem problems. I see negative self-talk about their looks as they undress for sex with the hero. I see doubt in the strength of the relationship within hours of their weddings. I see heroines relying on duty to pack and species as a reason to get laid, despite their ladylike reluctance to pursue a good time.
I don’t think romance is guilty of slut-shaming just yet, but I do think the road to slut-shaming starts with slut-shunning, where heroines must have a specific reason to be sexual beyond the sheer, guilt-free pleasure of it. The road starts with stories that place conditions on pleasure.
The future of romance? Say it ain’t so!
There is hope. I still see heroines wanting to bring a third into their relationships, to stir things up or to get That Other Man out of their systems. I see heroines choosing one partner from many. I see heroines too busy getting their hands on their heroes’ amazing bodies to be freaked out about their own appearance. And I see all of that in contemporary erotic romance, leading up to the happy ending suitable for the characters involved in the story.
I just wish I saw more of that. As I write this, I’m asking myself whether I want to see a new subgenre: Slutty Romance. Well, I’m not sure. First, I’d like to see a definition of “slutty.” Right now, I live in a world where all the couples in the Trojan commercials (and the lotion commercials and mattress commercials and so on) are married, as if single folks don’t use condoms (or lotion or mattresses). If “slutty” means unmarried but eager to engage in sensual and sexual contact, then yes, I’d like to see more of that. Maybe we shouldn’t have to be shoved into our own subgenre. Maybe I would be more okay with it if we work on the name a little.
Am I overreacting? Am I missing a vast, untapped reservoir of sexually bold heroines? Let me know. I’m always looking for something new to read.
And for a good time, follow Lady Smut.
October 18, 2013
Sexy Saturday Round-Up
Photo by Dollen
By Liz Everly and the Lady Smut Bloggers.
Hello, Sexy! Whew, I’m glad this week is over. How about you? We’ve been hard at work finding you some, fun, sexy, funny, and thought-provoking reads this week. So dig in!
From Liz:
Sex facts that will make you laugh.
What a Buddhist Writing Retreat taught one writer.
What makes a romance novel great?
From CMK:
It’s a big country, so no surprise the expanding phenomenon is .
Calling all speshul snowflakes: Women who feel entitled are more likely to support benevolent sexism (no surprise, surely).
Joanne Harris on how gender affects journalism on literary prizes.
Since a self-appointed crusader decided that “all werewolf porn is bestiality” and the hysteria trickled down to professional hand wringers The Daily Mail, bookseller chain WH Smith and Kobo have gone into panic-and-remove mode. But is this just another “some porn is better than other porn” controversy? As Laura Hazard Owen admits,
The book industry reaped massive profits from the bestselling erotic trilogy Fifty Shades of Grey. If that’s okay, but other porn isn’t — if, for instance, child rape porn is unacceptable — retailers will have to be much more explicit in publicly declaring what is and isn’t acceptable. They’ll then have to employ humans to ferret out offending books and keep those books’ authors from reposting them under different titles or descriptions. And that is likely to be more than a full-time job.
From Madeline Iva
Where’d you get that fabulous tent? Huffington Post discusses the controversy over Elle’s cover of Melissa McCarthy. (James Franco’s butt is included in the great slide show at the bottom.)
August McLaughlin discusses the girl boner.
Got a long commute? Here are some Classics in Audio Romance from Audiogals.
Hate housecleaning? “ But It burns calories–it’s good exercise.” Ha! Says this BBC news report on cleaning.
From Elizabeth:
What do you think? 6 erotic romances better than Fifty Shades.
Masturbating on TV? Oh my!
Get your spook on for Halloween! The new version of Carrie opens this weekend – check out the hair-raising trailer.
Or, if you’d rather stay home and raise your hair another way, hot off the press is the Big Book of Orgasms.
Stay Hungry,
Liz
P.S. Don’t forget to subscribe to Lady Smut!
Where Do You Get the Scoop?
The Lady Smutketeers have been wondering: where do you get your recommendations of what to read next? There are a lot of books and writers out there all clamouring for your attention. How do you wade through the tsunami of information and find out what to read next?
I think it’s the biggest challenge of the current age. We’re lucky to have more terrific authors than ever before, publishers who take challenges and put out books that break all the rules of the past. Nonetheless, there’s no doubt it’s a challenge to wade through all the material out there.
We thought we’d come up with a little poll and we’d love to have you input. We’ll be drawing some names from the comments for free ebooks, so feel free to elaborate on your poll responses with comments.
And as always, don’t forget to follow the blog so you can get the latest updates!
October 17, 2013
Get Shorty: Hot Vertically Challenged Guys
I’d take Messina over the Brit any day.
Okay, I’m watching Chris Messina on The Mindy Project. If I weren’t married, I’d do him. Am I right, ladies? And there was a bit in a recent episode where he was mashed up against the male nurse. That guy’s a giant, and Chris Messina is tiny. I remember thinking, “My God he’s so petite, and yes, I’d STILL do him.”
What lyrics? I’m just looking at Pharrell, I’m not even hearing any lyrics.
Speaking of the not super tall — we were wrangling over the song Blurred Lines yesterday, and I have to say, Pharrell Williams is the eye candy that sucked me into that video/song/performance. While not as tall as Robin Thicke, I just can’t help it…I want him. (But if I can’t have him, can I at least get some skin care tips? His gorgeous complexion is beyond crazy beautiful.)
I saw a poll somewhere – like more than 80% of romance reading women want a TALL hero. Why? My friend says: ”When I’m with a guy I want to feel feminine and pretty. I don’t feel that way when a guy is shorter. I don’t want to be an amazon, -all hulking and…it just feels wrong.”
Don’t hide it–the sex is still totally hot, even if she’s a foot taller.
I get that, yeah, sure. And, I’ll even mention the elephant in the room. Short guy= small penis. Right? Not always. And as someone once said: it’s not how big it is, it’s knowing what to do with it.
Again — if you read a lot of romance, you’ve read about a lotta lotta mondo dicks.
My rebuttal: Brad Pitt with Geena Davis in Thelma & Louise. He had her up on a dresser—and even so, her legs could have wrapped around him twice. But it’s Brad Pitt, and…he looked like he knew what he was doing.
The thing is: if you’re not over six foot and you’re a guy in America, you’re under the same onus as women who are larger than a size 8. And if you’re skinny? Sensitive? Fagettaboutit.
Some people out there are looking for short heroes:
http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/888732-not-so-tall-hero
Some others have also blogged — I loved the quote from a book on this blog:
http://dikladiesrule.blogspot.com/2010/04/unlikely-heroes-shorter-hero.html
“He’s not so short…he’s just concentrated.” (Squee!)
Stop trying to lean in. Clearly she’s got more chemistry with the little guy than with you two.
Then there was this episode on Entourage that sticks in my mind. A model who wants to move into acting basically attacks Eric with total joyous Amazon-y aggression. He’s so cute and she’s ready to plaster herself all over his Irish elf-ness. Eventually she tosses him–literally–onto a bed and has her way with him.
Now, his attitude is very engaging. He’s not at all threatened by her attitude of intensity and sexy aggression. If she wants to have her way with him…well, okay then. Yet when he sees her tape and she’s a horrible actress, only then does he take a strong stand and refuse to represent her. I have to say I liked this story line, I just wish we saw more of this.
Speaking of Entourage — Seth green –who on the show played Eric’s evil twin – I’d do him.
Kurt Cobain – I’m STILL so obsessed with him. In the official biography (yes I read it page to page) his girlfriend said he was so self conscious about his lack of bulk he used to wear three pairs of pants at one time. I don’t care – his lyrics are to DIE.
Topher Grace and whassherface from That 70′s Show. She learned the art of the Kelly McGillis stoop (that classic from Top Gun, where she’s sort of gracefully draped herself over Tom Cruise’s shorter figure.)
Short, sensitive, skinny. I see nothing wrong with this kind of guy.
Tall guys haven’t got it all wrapped up. I was entangled at one point with a guy who was 6’ 5”. He said he spent most of his time looking at the top of people’s heads. I couldn’t kiss him when I wanted to, spontaneously—he was orbiting a different atmosphere that I just couldn’t reach. Also he had a chronic bad back—because being tall, people assume you’re strong and expected him to lift everything (heavy objects, cheerleaders, dancers, etc) all the time. Also he worried about brain damage—this from hitting his head constantly on top of door frames some times so hard, he concussed himself.
Ben Whishaw. Sigh.
Remember that British guy from Bright Star. He played waify sensitive poet Keats. Abby Cornish was so robust by comparison, but he was Keats. He was to DIE even as he was dying. Now he’s playing Q – speaking of which:
Daniel Craig – not tall.
And Aaron Paul, Breaking Bad–To me he’s got a scary lotta forehead going on. But still…
Nuff said.
According to helpful sex books it’s harder for tall guys to have sex standing up – being equal height or if the girl is taller makes it much easier against a wall, in the shower, etc. Just saying.
Yet I have to confess, the first romance I wrote had a giant hero. One of those six foot three types. And yes, I hang my head in shame, he has a massive one eyed lizard.
So I vow I’m going to have some amazon tackle some shorter-than guy in a book and have both of them like it.
I also vow to have some “concentrated” guy concentrate on some long tall sally. Promise. It’s a great barrier for a couple to deal with. No one else will see them coming.
October 16, 2013
Who You Callin’ A Bitch Or A Ho? Why I Hate “Blurred Lines”
I’m going to state right up front that my opinion about the song “Blurred Lines” may be in the minority. After all, it spent twelve weeks atop the Billboard Hot 100 chart, so obviously there are folks bopping along to the catchy beat and thinking it’s a fun little summer tune. But you know what? It’s not. Go ahead and call me crazy, but in my book a song that includes the line, “I”ll give you something big enough to tear your ass in two” isn’t a light ditty about female empowerment and liberation – as some defenders have claimed.
If you read the song’s lyrics – and I did, several times – it suggests that women are simply befuddled, sex-crazed objects who have no idea what they want. As the song says, we try to be “good girls,” but what we don’t realize is that we’re actually just lustful nymphomaniacs. Who knew! Over and over Robin Thicke chants, “I know you want it,” before going on to say:
But you’re a good girl/The way you grab me/Must wanna get nasty/Go ahead, get at me.
Oh, those pesky “blurred lines.” They make it so darn difficult to tell the difference between a woman who’s saying no and meaning it, versus a woman who says no and doesn’t mean it! Egad, how’s a hot-blooded male supposed to tell the difference? Women are just sex-crazed animals, according to the song, and we don’t know what the hell we want. To wit:
OK now he was close/tried to domesticate you/But you’re an animal, baby/It’s in your nature
Yeah, that’s it. We’re animals. We just want to f**k incessantly – it’s in our nature! You know what else we are? Depending on which version of the song you hear – either the unrated or the “clean” one – we’re either the hottest “bitch” or “ho” in the place, Aww, you mean it? I’m blushing. Thanks, Robin.
For all that I despise about the song, the video is just as bad. This features Robin Thicke and his male posse with their clothes on, catcalling and ogling the nearly naked women prancing around them. Nearly naked, that is, except for their tiny thongs and occasional strips of clear plastic – yes, plastic – wrapped around them. My favorite shot is the tiny stop sign perched above one model’s pert butt. Why so tiny? Because, as Elizabeth Plank points out in her excellent article on Policymic, “sometimes stop really just means go.” We want it, remember? Don’t forget, ho is shorthand for whore.
In case I had any doubt as to whether I just wasn’t getting the true meaning behind the song and video, Robin Thicke has set me straight. In a GQ interview he admits that he tried to degrade women. Yes indeedy. Thicke says “We tried to do everything that was taboo. Bestiality, drug injections, and everything that is completely derogatory toward women.” To drive home his point he makes certain we know that the video was directed by a woman. So . . . what? Does that somehow imply that it’s been “blessed” by the rest of womankind because one of us chose to direct it? Last time I checked, director Diane Martel had not been appointed our spokesperson.
Thicke has since done some furious backpeddling after the GQ interview came out, saying that what he said was taken out of context and what didn’t come across is the fact that he was joking. People, c’mon! It’s just a funny joke, right? The thing is, though, I don’t see anything blurry about lack of sexual consent. As I pointed out in a Lady Smut post a couple of weeks ago, lack of consent is clearly defined: it’s called rape.
But let’s not let Mr. Thicke get the last word here. For that I leave it up to the Law Revue girls and their hilarious parody. Please remember to follow us, and enjoy!
October 14, 2013
Embracing the Dominatrix in You
By Liz Everly
Don’t you just love the word “dominatrix” ? It’s one of those words that sounds like what it is, isn’t it? Powerful. Kinky. Naughty. Alluring. Between Elizabeth Shore’s post on sex toys, and Madeline Iva’s on BDSM, and the fact that my main female character in my next book is an ex-dominatrix, I thought it might be fun to explore some of the real “toys” these kick-ass women might use during play. What do you think?
[image error]
“Say, please, Mistress!”
In CRAVINGS, Sasha takes Sanj into a sex-toy store. When it comes to the sexy leather outfits, Sanj simply says “I want one of each for Sasha.” Wouldn’t that be nice, ladies? But Sanj gets an education while he shops there. Yes, there are paddles, whips, and flogs, as you would expect.
But there are also collars:
And there are forced orgasm belts, strap-on dildos, nipple clamps, anal beads, and a number of different kinds of restraints.
If these don’t look like fun to you, maybe embracing your inner-dominatrix isn’t for you. Or maybe you need to take it slowly. But even though I’ve researched a bit, I’m just a casual—albeit intrigued— bystander. I’m not an expert in any way.
Just in case you’re interested, here’s a few blogs that you might fancy:
How to act like a dominatrix.
One man’s experience with a Dominatrix.
Enjoy!
October 13, 2013
Music Be the Food of Love…and Writing
Every author has her/his own environmental needs when she/he writes. I need music. I absorb it like I inhale air. It is always around me in one form or another, even if I have to make it myself. I really am that annoying person singing behind you in the grocery store line. Hey, at least I’m in tune. Sometimes even harmonizing.
What type of music I favor ebbs and flows through a given season. Sometimes life requires low down dirty rock and roll. Sometimes folk rock. Sometimes a pop overdose. Sometimes music of the 40s with lush torch songs or rockabilly. (It is [almost] never hip hop or rap.) Recently, I’ve pinged back onto country music, with a noble assist from the show Nashville (which I love), and the return of a country music station to the tri-state NYC area with Nash FM.
My last country music phase was in the late 90s when I was doing my graduate work, so it’s been a while. I don’t like traditional country with the twanging and the slide guitar overuse, but I love the more folk rock and rock country that’s developed over the last twenty years or so. One of the biggest draws for me are the musicality of the songs, especially the harmonies, and how so many of them tell stories. And the powerhouse women, both those singing and those featured in the songs. Someday I want to live a fun, romantic, sexy country song.
The first time I heard of creating a themed playlist for a book was via Jennifer Crusie. Crusie tailors her playlists and, like her infamous collages, adapts and adjusts them as the story unfolds to fit the actions and intentions of her characters. A lot of writers I know do this. Erotic romance writer, Lauren Dane includes the list of songs she chose on the back pages of her novels. I’ve certainly improved my song library thanks to music tweets from Victoria Dahl, Helen Kay Dimon, and Liza Palmer to name a few.
Theoretically , this playlist idea for writing should work for me. Music=air. Writing=need. It’s a no brainer. So in one of my many attempts to make someone else’s process my own, I compiled a playlist for my romantic suspense novel Catch Me. Turns out, if you take several years to finish your novel, your ability to listen to and be inspired by that playlist will fade. Trust me on this.
I am absolutely inspired by music and songs have repeatedly been a source of story ideas for many years. That long ago playlist for Catch Me still stands holds up thematically no matter how the book itself as evolved in the interim. Last year, I crafted an entire vignette in my head for both Pink’s Glitter and Count On Me by Default during my commute to and from the day job. Those scenarios have turned out to be major turning points for my in-process contemporary romance novel, All In. But, like in all things, it’s a matter of adapting the idea to what works for me individually. Sometimes it’s just a matter of having a generalized list of artists that help me keep clacking away.
My go to is David Gray, just the entire playlist of his songs in my iPod, On repeat. Ryan Adams’ Gold album (“I’ll always love you now, New York”). Pretty much anything by Ray LaMontagne. Ditto Van Morrison because Van *is* The Man. Passenger is an artist newly breaking through to the mainstream whose tenor voice, lyrical poetry, and folk rock guitar pickings hit my melodic music hot spots. And if you’re not listening to The Civil Wars eponymous new album, go forth and do so. Now.
But I also have songs in my “untitled” playlist that are there specifically to evoke a mood. Three More Days by Ray LaMontagne. Oh man, that groove. Madness by Muse with its pulse beat of need. Drive by Melissa Ferrick is one of the sexiest songs I’ve heard in a long time:
Your mouth waters
stretched out on my bed
your fingers are trembling
your heart is heavy and red
your head is bent back
your back is arched
my hand is under there
holding you up
Strewth.
Bring on the Men from the Jekyll and Hyde soundtrack is cheeky, naughty fun. Bad Boyfriend is a hot grind of sexy promise. Red Dress by TV on the Radio is a raw electric and full of power and presence. And Stay by Rihanna makes my heart weep. These tunes may not be specifically applicable to the book I’m working on at any given moment, but holy hell do they set the mood.
What music inspires you to create? If you’re a writer, do you have thematic playlists for your books while you’re writing them?
Oh, and follow LadySmut! Come on. You know you want it…
Embracing the Dominatrix in You
Don’t you just love the word “dominatrix” ? It’s one of those words that sounds like what it is, isn’t it? Powerful. Kinky. Naughty. Alluring. Between Elizabeth Shore’s post on sex toys, and Madeline Iva’s on BDSM, and the fact that my main female character in my next book is an ex-dominatrix, I thought it might be fun to explore some of the real “toys” these kick-ass women might use during play. What do you think?
[image error]
“Say, please, Mistress!”
In CRAVINGS, Sasha takes Sanj into a sex-toy store. When it comes to the sexy leather outfits, Sanj simply says “I want one of each for Sasha.” Wouldn’t that be nice, ladies? But Sanj gets an education while he shops there. Yes, there are paddles, whips, and flogs, as you would expect.
But there are also collars:
And there are forced orgasm belts, strap-on dildos, nipple clamps, anal beads, and a number of different kinds of restraints.
If these don’t look like fun to you, maybe embracing your inner-dominatrix isn’t for you. Or maybe you need to take it slowly. But even though I’ve researched a bit, I’m just a casual—albeit intrigued— bystander. I’m not an expert in any way.
Just in case you’re interested, here’s a few blogs that you might fancy:
How to act like a dominatrix.
One man’s experience with a Dominatrix.
Enjoy!
Romanticon 2013: On the Importance of Hot Shirtless Men
By Alexa Day
Last year, on Columbus Day, my mom and I were enjoying the last complimentary breakfast of Romanticon 2012 when a couple sat down at the table next to us. We started a conversation, mostly small talk about where we were from and why we were here and all that. We told them we were in Canton for a conference. You know, a book conference. For writers and readers. Of romance.
Erotic romance.
The woman looked cautiously interested. Her man gave us a disapproving look. The two of them had passed through the lobby and public areas of the hotel at various points during the weekend and encountered the posters and the swag and the Cavemen. The Cavemen are the hot shirtless guys featured on the covers of Ellora’s Cave books. They’re sweet guys and great dancers, and they make quite an impression, which in this case was reflected in our new friends’ facial expressions.
“So do you read these books, or are you a writer?” the woman asked.
Mom said she read and then added with maternal pride that I wrote them. My mom is awesome.
“And these dancing men,” said the man. “I suppose they’re beneficial to the process in some way?”
The hot shirtless men of which our new friend spoke. How can this not be beneficial?
This is a no-brainer to the rest of us, even for the woman who didn’t know Romanticon existed until we told her about it. Of course they’re beneficial. But after a whole weekend at Romanticon, the annual conference presented by Ellora’s Cave, it’s easy to forget that there are still People Who Wouldn’t Understand What We Do. These are not prudish people, necessarily, which makes it even more difficult to understand what the issue is.
I’ll be honest with you. Among romance fiction conferences, Romanticon is probably hotter than average. Right now as I’m sitting here, in front of the coffee station, I can hear fellow attendees enjoying a photo shoot with the Cavemen, happily posing with up to two of them at a time in any number of positions often found on the covers of our favorite books. In a little while, we will disperse for lively games of Sexy Charades and BDSM Bingo. Some of my Facebook buddies held a workshop yesterday involving inflatable dolls and sex positions. Some more of my fellow authors ran a session about bringing hotter sex into both fictional and real-life relationships. This afternoon, there’s going to be a game of Pin the Junk on the Hunk.
It does get a little explicit here. But the underlying cause – the reason for the season – is praiseworthy.
Yesterday, I participated in a panel called Naughty Confessions. Really, it was a big game of I Never. The leaders would read out various … activities … and we participants would stand up or sit down, depending on whether or not we had engaged in those … activities. We shared heartwarming stories about partners and relationships, and we laughed and everyone learned something. At one point, I think I shocked my editor. (I probably didn’t; I think she was just mildly surprised. But let me have my moment.) In a way, this is what erotic romance is all about. On the surface, it looks like little more than a bunch of stories about sex, until you realize that behind each steamy tale, there are people learning about themselves and each other and exploring their feelings as well as their boundaries. Erotic romance is romance. When all is said and done, it’s about people just like us finding joy with other people just like us. I don’t want to state the obvious here, but when people joyfully interact with each other in a romance, they typically end up in bed. With their shirts off.
As far as the dancing men go, well, for most of us, this weekend is the only opportunity to be this close to guys this hot and this shirtless without fear. Here at Romanticon, the Cavemen are the open-armed ambassadors of our genre. They are a constant reminder that hot shirtless men really can be gentle and sweet and warm and wonderfully touchable, just like the ones we are reading and writing about. It is of critical importance to all genres of romance, for readers and for writers, and for skeptical men, that the world knows men like this are real.
Romanticon is a weekend full of best parts, but I think the best of the best is that moment when the hotel staff starts to join the fun. Usually, around Saturday afternoon, you start to see them wearing the Romanticon t-shirts and the swag and moving out of the shadows to dance with the hot shirtless men. It’s like being at a family reunion where anyone can decide at any time that they want to join the family.
Not sure what’s wrong with that. If you all figure it out, let me know in the comments. I’ve got to have a look at the photo shoot.
Be sure to follow the ladies of Lady Smut! And remember, hot shirtlessness is totally okay. Totally.
![[image error]](http://ladysmut.files.wordpress.com/2013/10/dominatrix.jpg){kind=link}