Long and Short of it Reviews May 2012 Desi Moon
Hey all! I want to thank the lovely ladies at Long and Short Reviews for letting me take over today *Mwah*.
For those of who don’t know me (Which is probably most of you) let me take a brief moment to introduce myself. My name is Desi Moon. I live in Boulder Colorado with my husband and fellow creative neurotic Eben. I am proud mama of two humans, three cats and an incredibly high strung but loveable dog.
To date, I have two full length novels out. Summerland, a contemporary romance set in the wilds of the L.A. fashion district, and Accidental Intent, a romantic suspense that has gone to the dogs. Also I have a comedic romantic short titled “My Humiliating Valentine” in the Tempting Cupid Anthology and in June another romantic short, “For the Love of Mac” will be included in the Dad Plan Anthology. In October my very first erotic horror novella “Nowhere to Run” will be released just in time for Halloween, which brings me to the title of this post.
There are a myriad of words to describe me. Most often the terms open, honest, blunt are bandied about. I can talk about anything; nothing fazes me-- including talk of sex. Positions, experience, advice… I have no qualms discussing intimacy at length with anyone. Writing it however, is another story.
My two short stories for example have nothing beyond a kiss. When I wrote Summerland, my love scenes were sweetened with a bit of nudity and heavy panting but once the action moved upstairs, I was on my own and left in the dark.
I pushed a bit further with Accidental Intent. A sway of the hips here, a flick of the tongue there, wandering hands, tactile overload but my feverish lovers always seemed to be interrupted by someone needing the restroom, or the ringing of a cell phone, or a dead body falling into the room. It was always something. And although Lucy and Nicolai had an insatiable passion, it never seemed to go beyond ripping their shirts off.
For me, writing “intimate” scenes never seemed to work. The descriptions were clinical, the dialogue was something out of a really bad porn movie and my characters didn’t seem to be having that much fun. It had always been easier for me to let them have their way with each other when I wasn’t looking. I diagnosed myself with grapho-geno-phobia, the fear of writing sex.
I was okay sticking with romantic comedy. There is a formula to it, a fun whimsical quality that seems to make people happy. But as a writer I need the challenge of tackling something out of my comfort zone.
A submission call landed in my inbox, write an erotic horror novella involving a threesome. My first instinct was to trash it; I don’t write erotica. However, a little voice in back of my head started whispering to me. A new character, telling me I could do this with her help, actually with their help.
That night I sat down and began writing my very first f/f/f scene. My threesome was kind, encouraging, helpful, and not at all shy about what they were doing. *Whoa* at one point I asked them, “Can you really do that?”
As a writer I find that I am in a constant state of flux and growth. If I don’t push through my phobias, or try new avenues then I am left with nothing but the same story over and over again. What is the fun in that? So it is for my future readers that I am now comfortable in writing detailed sentences about the versatility of a tongue.
“Where over the top characters gather to create mayhem”
Lucy saw Nicolai enter the cafe. Her stomach flipped a couple times before settling in her throat. Her three companions quickly followed the eye line to the tall dark detective. He spotted them and made his way to their table.
"Ladies." He nodded with formality.
"Detective." They replied except Lucy. She was watching his lips move.
"Lucy," He said slowly. "Could I speak with you in private?"
She nodded but continued to sit. Sheila kicked her under the table. It snapped Lucy back into the present. "Right, private."
Following the detective into a private alcove the air turned thick with his presence. In the small space their bodies were almost touching. Her head spun with the nearness of him. "Wha?" She cleared her throat and tried again. "What can I do for you detective?" She could see the battle in his eyes. It was the same battle going on in her head. Desire or duty?
"I, uh, came by to apologize for last night." His voice was breathy and caught in his throat. "It was very much out of character for me."
She smiled. Her hands clenched into fists to keep from grabbing fistfuls of black hair and pulling him to her. "I appreciate the apology but there were two of us in my office last night I responded in kind." She took a shuddering breath. "It really shouldn’t happen again." The minute the words were out, she wanted more than anything to take them back.
He nodded looking down at his shoes. "Maybe you’re right."
She could smell the wood scent of his shampoo. Before she could stop herself, her fingers found themselves entwined in his hair. Mouths connected in a fevered effort to get as close as possible. His arm pulled her into him. Her leg snaked its way around his waist.
"You have got to be kidding me." Sheila folded her arms tightly across her chest. "Can I at least get to the bathroom without feeling as if I am involved in some ménage a trios?"
They stepped out of the alcove muttering apologies. Back in the light of the cafe Lucy offered a nervous chuckle. "Okay, now it is my turn to apologize."
His head flipped up, waves of dark locks flew in slow motion to settle on his head. "I think we need to deal with this."
About the Author:
An animal activist and a Project Runway junkie with a passion for "really killer footwear", Desi is also an avid Muay Thai kickboxer and loves to bake decadent "plant based" desserts.