Robin L. Rotham's Blog, page 4

Happy Birthday, RG Alexander!

Smutketeers are hosting a birthday bash and giving away a $25 gift card in her honor, but I wanted to post my own special gift to RG. Happy Birthday, my dear -- here's a villanelle I wrote just for you! :D





RG Was Born to Write Romance



The lady loves to sing and dance

but deep down in her heart of hearts,

RG was born to write romance.



You might not think so at first glance—

She’s deeply into other arts.

And though she loves to sing and dance,



A hero with a mighty lance,

Who’s great in bed and never farts,

Is why she lives to write romance.



Throw in another hunk sans pants,

A heroine with looks and smarts—

RG can make them sing and dance.



Though some might look at her askance,

she just ignores their slings and darts

for she was born to write romance.



I’m really glad she took the chance,

And so are Smutkadettes and Tarts,

for though she loves to sing and dance

RG was born to write romance.

The Temptation of Robin

God, he’s relentless lately. Insatiable. I’m not used to him like this. Often it’s a year or more between our excruciating, orgasmic little bouts, but this is the third time he’s come to me in as many months.




He’s eyeing me now, flirting, tempting… Come play with me again, my slut. You know you want it.




I do want it, but I hesitate. If I succumb to temptation and offer myself up yet again for his cruel pleasure, he’s just as likely to change his mind, suddenly have something else to do. He loves seeing my shoulders slump and the light in my eyes go dim at his withdrawal, loves seeing me tied up in knots. He gets off on knowing he can do that to me.




The sick fuck. Why do I love him so much when he toys with me like this? We’ve played together off and on for so many years, but he never stays long and when he leaves, I’m always afraid this will be the time he doesn’t return.



He knows it, too, the bastard.




He crooks a finger and gives me that sexy, innocent smile I know is a lie. Come on, my slut, let’s play. Trust me.




Yeah, right. I must look like a fool to him.




But I can’t help myself.




My heart racing, I give him a grudging nod and brace myself. I know I’ll probably regret it, but I have to take the chance once more. When he finally gives it to me the way I want it, the way I need it, I can fly higher than I ever thought possible. There’s no other feeling like it.




I want him to grab me by the throat and just do it, take me fast and hard, like the flood from a breaking dam that sweeps away everything in its path. Destroys it. Obliterates it. He’s done that to me a few times and it was exhausting and traumatic but breathtakingly good.




Instead, he toys with me. Are you sure you want to play, Robin? Maybe you’d rather read a book.




The bastard. Suddenly I have to have it. I can’t wait. I need it. Now.




Please, I whisper. I’m desperate. I’ll do anything you want.




He looks bored. Fine, but you’re taking it up the ass this time, slut. Without lube. Without prep of any kind. Strip and bend over. Now.




I shudder, knowing he’s going to make work for it, make it hurt as badly as he can for as long as he can before giving me some relief—if he gives me any at all, which he may not. He promises nothing. He’s a sadist as well as a Dom. He could pull out with a cruel little grin just when it’s starting to feel good, when I’m only beginning to fly, and walk away.



He’s done it before, left me dangling on a precipice and not come back to finish me for weeks, or even months. That’s when I hate him as much as I love him. How can he leave us both unsatisfied for so long? There must be more than a little bit of the masochist in him too—he must derive at least some satisfaction from denying his own release. I can’t allow myself to believe he takes his pleasure elsewhere.




Or he might come in me, loudly, violently, giving me everything he’s got, and still leave me unsatisfied. It hasn’t happened yet but there’s a first time for everything. Our twisted little games can’t be mutually satisfying every single time, can they?




I’m bound to find out.




Swallowing hard, I bare myself to his impenetrable gaze and bend over, wondering what new and awful torture he’s going to throw at me this time. Whatever it is, I hope it’s worth it. It has to be worth it. It would be madness to let myself believe otherwise.




But I’m already beginning to fly just knowing he’s close. He’s waiting, watching.




Oh God, I hope it’s not as bad as last time. That was pure hell. I didn’t think I’d survive, though in the end it was worth the grinding, protracted agony. Please, don’t let it hurt as bad as it did last time.




My muse chuckles darkly and I shake as my hands hover over the keyboard.




You think that book was bad? he murmurs, tickling the sphincter of my imagination with his beautiful, terrible tool. Just wait…

A Visit From My Sadistic Muse

He woke me up at freaking four o'clock this morning to present me with this gag gift, so I thought I'd share it with all of you. :)



For Anne Calhoun, Eden Bradley, RG Alexander and Sher...






The Night Before Deadline




’Twas the night before deadline, when all through the land,

Not a muscle was stirring but those in my hands.

The dishes were stacked in the sink without care,

In hopes that I’d notice them moldering there.



The children were quiet—I hoped in their beds—

While scenes from my manuscript whirled in my head.

And Papa in our bedroom, since I was still gone,

Was doomed once again to have sex all alone.



When low on my screen there arose an alert.

That gave me a massive adrenaline spurt.

I sprang to my browser and then to my emails,

Clicked open my inbox to get all the details.



And what to my dry gritty eyes should appear

But a note from a friend that confirmed my worst fear.

The draft that I’d sent her, to read and to crit,

Was what I’d suspected—a huge pile of shit.



The much-needed truth of her kindly meant words

Gave a luster of tears to my eyes as they blurred.

For a moment I saw only looming calamity—

Abysmal reviews and resultant insanity!



More helpful than ever, my crit partners came,

They parsed out my problems and called them by name—

“Not sexy! Too boring! The opening drags,

The characters cardboard, the middle, it sags!



From the opening hook, to the very last line,

Rewrite it! Just do it! You still have the time!”

As dry heaves that before the real puke starts to fly,

When I met with disaster, I started to cry;



But to the first chapter, my fingers they flew

My brain full of terror, and fortitude, too.

And in just a few hours, my book became lean,

With the slicing and dicing of each awful scene.



As I sunk in my head and was digging around,

Down the pike, my sadistic muse came with a bound

He was finally ready to share what he knew

But had kept to himself just to see me unglued.



A string of ideas began to attack,

And I wrote like a demon and never looked back.

The sex, how it sizzled! The conflict, how frazzling!

The humor so quirky, the emotions so dazzling!



When I dared to delete all the back story dumps,

The pacing began to improve in great jumps.

I carved out the details the flab had concealed,

And the heart of my story was finally revealed.



It had a fine plot, and two drool-worthy heroes

Who, after I fixed them, were no longer zeroes.

’Twas a little less kinky than most on my shelf,

But I squirmed when I read it in spite of myself.



The words of my crit partners after they’d read

Soon gave me relief from the feelings of dread.

They offered me kudos for all my hard work

So kindly, I felt a bit less like a jerk.



And after an edit that gave it a shine,

I had it formatted and put it online.

I dropped into bed to catch up on some sleep,

The dishes could wait and the promo would keep.



If there’s one thing I learned from this very close call—

Christmas books should be written long before fall!

Not So Tiny Tim RELEASED!

Yes, my dear friends and fans, Not So Tiny Tim, Book 2 in the Smutketeers series A Kinky Christmas Carol, is finally up for sale at Amazon and Smashwords and should be up on B&N someday soon. I'll post that link as soon as I have it. So go forth and enjoy -- these are some of my favorite characters ever!





The Smutketeers Present: A Kinky Christmas Carol Series!



Blinded to the Present...Avoiding the Future...Running from the Past



The Knight Family is a wealthy, powerful Chicago clan that knows everything there is to know about making money--but they have plenty to learn about love. In this three-novella series--Eden Bradley's Getting Scrooged, Robin L Rotham's Not So Tiny Tim and R.G. Alexander's Marley in Chains--you'll meet Holly Knight, her nephew Tim, and her cousin Marley Knight-Williams as they face their ghosts, fulfill their fantasies and finally discover the magic of Christmas.








Book 2: Not So Tiny Tim



Avoiding the future…



Video game mogul, philanthropist and heir to the Knight empire, Tim Crichton has three F-zones—the friend zone, the family zone, and the, er… fun-buddy zone. No crossover is allowed because it might create a fourth—the forever zone—and Tim knows forever just isn’t in the cards for him.



Miranda Girard has always known she and Tim were meant to be together, but when she got tired of waiting and made a move, he rejected her. Now it’s time for their Christmas reunion dinner and she’s damn well going to put on a happy face and attend—after she stops at the bar for a little liquid courage.



Peter Vaughn can’t wait for his new house to be finished so he can move out of Tim’s apartment—living with a man he wants and can’t have gets old quick. But work on the house has ground to a halt and he’s stuck there until after the new year.



It all seems hopeless until a jolly old doorman nudges Peter and Miranda together, and a little Christmas magic quickly escalates to a scorching holiday encounter that will either rescue Tim from a lonely future…or cost him the two most important people in his life.



Reader Advisory: Contains 30% more cheese and 20% less kink than your usual Robin L. Rotham fare. (It’s Christmas, people!) Also contains ménage, m/m, mild BDSM elements, four ice-skates, three lovebirds, two black towers, and a doorman with a plan.



You can read a couple of excerpts here!

Holiday Contest Up!

Hey, I forgot to tell you I updated my website! I've posted the blurb and excerpts for Not So Tiny Tim, as well as a new holiday contest. The prizes are a $50 Amazon gift card and my book of the winner's choice, so hie yourself to my contest page and enter today!

Smutketeers Annual X-Mas Bash!

I'm over having fun at the Smutketeers Annual X-Mas Bash all week. There are tons of awesome books to check out and a veritable crapton of fabulous prizes! Come check it out and comment every day, and be sure to watch the video on Day 1 -- some of your favorite authors appear in it. Multiple times. :)









Ooh, and I'm so close to done with Not So Tiny Tim, I can taste it! Hopefully tonight, or early tomorrow. Oh wait, it's early tomorrow now! :D Never mind. It'll be done today.

Gearing Up for the Holidays!

Get ready for the Smutketeers' holiday releases, coming in December! I'll post blurbs as soon as they're ready. :)

One Stormy Night

I've been posting all over about what a great day I had today. First I got to sleep in (after staying up until 5 a.m. to finish a marvelous historical!), then the girls and I went to see Skyfall, which was AMAZING! When I got home from the movie, there were tear-inducing fan emails waiting for me, and then as I cooked supper, it started to rain. I mean real rain, not just the sprinkles we've had to content ourselves with since last spring.



Right now, there's lightning and thunder and heavy rain outside, and it reminds me of an album that my mother used to play all the time when I was a kid. It's called One Stormy Night by the Mystic Moods Orchestra.



Yes, I can see all you youngsters out there rolling your eyes at anything with the word orchestra in it. And listening to it now, I have to admit it sounds a lot like elevator music. From my childhood.



But back then (40+ years ago) it was so romantic! I wasn't aware of it at the time, since we didn't go to church, but in the 60s and early 70s, some church youth/young adults were admonished not to listen to this album, especially in the presence of the opposite sex, because it was too romantic and might put young persons in a frame of mind to go too far on a date.



I still like to listen to bits of it once in a while because it's so nostalgic. And it really is romantic, and mysterious, and evocative, at least for the 1960s. Listen to a few of the tracks and maybe you'll hear what I mean. ;)



Just thought I'd let you in on that little secret. So what kind of music do you remember from childhood? Any make-out music on the list?

FrankenDom Up on B&N!

I noticed at 3 a.m. that FrankenDom had finally gone up on B&N, so here's the link I promised you: LINK!



In other news, sometime in the next week or so Smutketeers Eden Bradley, R.G. Alexander and I will be revealing our covers for the Christmas novellas we're doing together. So stay tuned for more cover goodness!

FrankenDom ePub version

For those of you who've been waiting with bated breath for Barnes and Noble to get the Nook version of FrankenDom up...it ain't happening. At least not for a while. Apparently the company is having some major problems because of FrankenStorm (irony!) and isn't getting much of anything done at the moment. From what I understand, their offices are in lower Manhattan, which pretty much says it all.



BUT there's good news. The ePub version of FrankenDom is available at Smashwords, so if you have a Nook, you should be able to download it there. So go forth and enjoy!