Happy Valentines Day!
The links to a free copy of Big Trouble In China are HERE!
My thinking behind the title of this post is that the word procreation was a better choice, more polite, than shagging. I could have gone for beget, breed, conceive, create, make, multiply, reproduce, sire, spawn. But since this is me you’re dealing with I went for shag.
According to certain people in the know in the scientific community and certain organised religions, the urge to shag is a primal one, meaning to shag is the reason we were put on earth, which would explain a lot.
Have you ever seen mismatched couples? I see them all the time. As a romance writer, I’m
nosy an avid observer of the human condition.
So while I was watching H measure out four ounces of wholemeal pasta per person (we’re on the 5.2 diet) for our pasta and veggie bake he’s making for dinner, I got to thinking about the primal urge.
‘Perhaps,’ I said, ‘This is why a woman can end up with a well padded accountant from Pensacola who’s afflicted with folliculitis (I’ll wait while you Google it, it is not pretty.)’
H just gave me the look. And for authenticity I thought you might like to know that H has a deep, gravelly voice that has been likened to Sean Connery, there’s a lot of rolling of ‘r’s in our house.
‘The reason a woman might end up with a guy like that,’ he said. ‘Might be an overconsumption of warm Pinot Grigio at the office party, which might have resulted in a little surprise.’
Hmm. He has a point, didn’t think of that.
Undeterred, I ploughed on. ‘Okay, but the thing is that today women are not supposed to have hang-ups about shagging. We’re supposed to be able to express ourselves with gay abandon, liberated sexually, living in the new age where men no longer rule with their love muscles. But I don’t think that’s what’s happening at all. It never ceases to amaze me what women tolerate these days.’
He dumped the pasta in frantically boiling water, stirred, turned on the extractor fan before sliding a tray of chopped red onion, courgettes, peppers into the oven.
‘It never ceases to amaze me what I tolerate these days,’ he muttered. I ignored it because he mutters all the time.
While he opened a carton of passata, emptied it into a glass jug, added dried oregano, black pepper and crushed garlic and stirred, my mind was mulling over how couples who’ve been together a looooooong time do it.
‘The reason most couples have been together for years is because they’re fairly honest with each other,’ I said.
His brows rose. ‘This, from the woman who demands honesty in all things.’
‘The odd little porky pie (lie) isn’t a big deal. Look at how men always say, You look lovely, to their wives when their girlfriends are secretly wondering, What on earth were you thinking wearing that? It’s what makes a relationship last. But it’s vital to get the big things out in the open like, No I do not want your mother staying over every weekend. And look at us, we never let things drift! If we have an issue we discuss it.’
‘Look at us,’ I said again. ‘Two weeks after we met, you asked me to marry you. And you were a confirmed bachelor.’ I’ve always secretly felt a bit smug about that.
‘In those days getting married was the only way to get regular sex from an attractive woman,’ came the shocking response that burst my romantic bubble.
Stunned, I just looked at him, the love of my life, and my temper started to simmer right along with the pasta.
‘Are you telling me.’ You might like to know that my tone matched Siberia. ‘You simply married me for my body?’
By this point he drained the pasta, dumped it back in the pot, took out the roasted veggies and stirred. Then he poured everything into a heated oven dish, poured over the passata, added baby tomatoes and grated cheese. Put the dish onto a tray and placed everything in the oven for twenty minutes.
He looked at me, caught the expression and blinked.
‘Among other things,’ he said. ‘Mostly, it was your quick brain and how you made me laugh. You still make me laugh. But, yes, marrying you for your body ticked a big plus in my box. My life is much more fun with you in it. And although it would be a hell of a lot more peaceful, I can’t imagine life without you, so you can lose the face.’
And then there was a romantic interlude. Use your imaginations!
So there you go, my theory is correct, we cannot help ourselves but procreate.
Go forth and shag with abandon on Valentines Day!
And, since I feel nothing but love for you guys here’s a link to a fabulous idea by horror author Samantha Warren, a blind date to match readers with authors of their favourite genres, there are plenty of mystery, psychological/legal thriller, romance – sweet and steamy, paranormal, sci-fi and even a non fiction author too. So pop over and leave your name on the link below and you’ll be matched up with an author. The author will email either a Smashwords code or email a gift of a book to your eReader of choice. Sound good??? The link is HERE
But I want to know what you guys are up to for Valentines day, will it be romantic with its logical conclusion or do you treat it like any other day?
You know I adore hearing from you!
So you’re a people-watcher, too? I love to loiter in places such as malls, McDonald’s, etc, and guess what attracted the women to the men or the other way around.
Why, hello, Kim!
Welcome! Yes, it’s the curse of all writers everywhere. Basically we lurk in dark corners of malls, coffee shops (it’s amazing what I hear in coffee shops). We have the skill of what I call, the detached ear, mine can actually leave my body and listen in on conversations, the more angsty the better.
I love this post! “I can’t imagine life without you, so lose the face.” Only a husband of many years would say that, and would be allowed to get away with it. You are a hoot, CC, and H sounds delightful!
Hmm, not sure I’d call him delightful. But he’s a great cook, lol! Just as well. 🙂
Smiles and laughter! Haha.
Valentine’s Day here is a genuine celebration of the emotion of love, accompanied by my interpretation of the Editress’s requested meal (this year it will be Italian meatballs and marinara over angel hair pasta). Dessert will take place off-camera and will likely involve scaring the cats, thank you very much.
LOL! Yes! You’re a pasta God too, Dale. Go forth and scare the cats! 🙂
He sounds like a keeper. Great voice, romantic comebacks and a Sean Connery voice. How could you go wrong?
How lovely to see you here, my angel! I’ve kept him for so long, he must be keeper! He does have flaws, too numerous to mention and definitely not for Valentines Day. 🙂
Oh, and I’m glad you picked Pensacola! And by the way, my accountant is a 3rd degree black belt with not a lot of padding and doesn’t have folliculitis. LOL
Really? Third degree black belt? What sort of accounts does he do? Or should I not ask, lol! And an accountant without folliculitis? Give us a name! 🙂
I look forward to your posts as much as the next episode of the Walking Dead! (That’s a Compliment!) I think good writers have to be people watchers, too. I think my wife and I are totally mismatched. The Lovely and Talented Dr. Amy Carrico is as smart as she is beautiful, though I must call her taste in men into question. 😉
We are generally nice to each other all year, so we’ve never felt the need to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Am I a lucky guy, or what?
You are really lucky with Amy, Greg. But I’ve told you that before so you know I’m right. And Amy knows I’m always right, which means Amy has great taste in her man. And you know it too. I think it’s great you don’t celebrate Valentines Day. H is taking me out for dinner on Friday after Valentines – it’s cheaper. 🙂
This is such a great story and I could hear the accents! Hilarious! I thought the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach!
I was single during the 80’s and it was pretty liberal before AIDS. I think that put the damper on it for a lot of women.
I cooked until I got sick and became a writer. Just read that back and it doesn’t read quite right, but you know what I mean.
Yes, AIDS did put a damper on going forth and procreating, you’re right. As you know, we’ve spent time in Africa. My daughters spent time there with us and saw first hand the scourge of that disease upon an entire continent, which is why they’re career focused and single. Unfortunately, there aren’t many Dannys, Gregs, Dales or H’s out there! Just say’in! 🙂
LOL Christine! Ditto on the “‘You simply married me for my body?” I have heard that all our married life! In fact I still hear it! I’m just sayin’. Ahem. And yes, I’ve been told that there are other factors that weighed in on his decision to marry me. And there has been no peace since. LOL! What can I say Christine. I think you’re right. We are twins! 🙂
We are twins, right down to the hair 🙂
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Stop over and see CC MacKenzie
Thank you, Denise! 🙂
Sounds like you two should make pasta and veggies more often!
Haha! I’m not a star in the kitchen. Lovely to see you here and welcome! 🙂
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