Sunday, September 29, 2013

Good Vibrations ~ #Sexy Snippets

Seven more from Incidental Contact, Those Devilish De Marcos Book 3

Unexpectedly, he smiled. Something caused the blue in his eyes to dominate the green, like her mother’s treasured mood ring from her hippie days. The sight made Amy’s heart as uncooperative as her tongue. He leaned forward until their noses touched. Heat from his body seeped through her shirt. His breath felt cool to her heated cheeks, but the stirring air made her lips tingle.
Maybe he didn't realize he stood so close that her breasts, belly, and thighs were pressed against him. He couldn't know every time he growled like a Rottweiler, her nipples stood up like tuning forks, absorbing the vibration.

Be sure to read the sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or Facebook. Thanks for stopping by. Have a great week!

Friday, September 27, 2013

What IS it about breastfeeding? Moral support requested :)

When I got pregnant with my first child, my gynecologist had a longer list of questions for me than I had for him. Questions like, "What's your pediatrician's name?" Without a second's hesitation, I spouted the name of the pediatrician who'd been my doctor until I left home for college, and who lived and still practiced in a neighboring state.

I still think of the look Dr. White gave me as the "Oh-my-God-not-another-dumb-blonde look."

We established I'd have to get back to him on that.

Another question he asked was whether I planned to breastfeed. "Uh, no." I'd been a bottle baby, after all.

Then, I mentioned my decision to my mother-in-law. That innocent remark earned me an hour-long lecture on the benefits of breastfeeding. Namely, she'd had three kids, breast-fed two, and the one she couldn't breastfeed had horrendous, life-affecting allergies. Which ran in the family. But, the two she had breastfed had no allergies.

And, this kid who she hadn't breastfed, the middle child, was also a royal pain in the ass. to this day, I see her face when I hear Hotel California, and the line about "stab it with their steely knives but just can't kill the beast" part comes. I mention it because that alone might be why I decided to try breastfeeding. I did NOT want my kid to turn out like my sister-in-law, She-who-shall-go-unnamed. In any way.

Fast-forward seven and a half months. Here's baby! I'd been told breastfeeding my little man would be hard at first. I could do hard, I figured. What else would there be to do for six weeks? (Answer: Sleep! Bathe! Brush your hair! And teeth!)

But I digress.

From the minute MY mother learned of my decision, she began to undermine me. For that matter, so did the hospital, sending home a large can of powdered formula. You wanna know what that can looked like around three a.m. on Day Three, when my kid was screaming bloody murder because my milk hadn't come in and my nipples felt like someone had wrapped 'em with barbed wire? It looked like Dom Perignon, gold dust, and crushed diamonds.

That innocent can looked like the Holy friggin' Grail.

Oh, how I longed to give in. What could be the harm? Then, I remembered She-who-shall-not-be named. And I dumped the powder down the toilet. If my mother-in-law managed this, any fool could do it. We got through that crisis, much to my mother's disgust. I was starving him, she declared. She couldn't take it, time for her to pack and go home, since I clearly hadn't a shred of common sense.

The most painful moment came two weeks later, when I was shopping with my mother. Son got hungry, so I ducked into a dressing room and got him hooked up, flipped a blanket over his head and re-joined my mother--who rolled her eyes and started muttering about formula.

"Must you do this in public?" she demanded. I swear, the Original Iron Maiden was blushing.

"Where else would you suggest I do it?"

"Why didn't you stay in that dressing room?"

"Because I was bored? Because that narrow bench hurts my ass? Because it smells like dye and something in there was stinging my eyes? Take your pick. It's no problem, I can walk and nurse."

Until the store manager asked us--meaning me and my four-week old--to leave. My mother gave me the lecture from hell all the way home. She hit all the highlights, from "formula is scientifically designed to be better than breast milk", to how selfish I was being, since only I could feed the first grandchild, ending by vowing that by breastfeeding, I was making myself look poor and uneducated.

I managed six weeks. In that time, I was stared at, talked down to, treated like an idiot, all for the simple, natural, normal act of doing something my body was made to do, feed a child.

Why'd I stop? Because my dear son figured out that drinking from a bottle was easier and faster than drinking straight from the tap. Once he got the pumped breast milk after I returned to work, that was it. He was done getting milk the hard way. He refused to nurse. My milk dried up, despite hiding in the bathroom at work to pump and being told if I continued 'wasting time' this way, I stood to lose my job. (Before you cue the outrage, this was 1987 and South Carolina employers could, by law, fire any employee at any time, for any reason.)

Defeat, thy name is Enfamil.

Second time around, I had better results. My daughter nursed well from the beginning. My milk came in straight way, in copious quantities. I was self-employed, so no separation at six weeks.

But we had other issues. I got pneumonia when she was two weeks old. My gynecologist referred me to a pulmonary specialist. He prescribed an antibiotic.

Then, the fun began.

I'm positive that, while I had no ill effects from the medicine, it made my daughter's tummy hurt. As in, the drawn into knots, screaming until her entire body turned red kind of hurt. Once I had narrowed my suspicions about the cause to the pills, I called my gynecologist and explained the problem. He told me I was nuts. Medicine didn't enter my milk, he assured me, so the problem had to be something else. I next called the pulmonary specialist. His answer was very different. "Oh, yes, absolutely. The medicine IS in your milk. You'll have to stop breastfeeding until you've taken all the meds. Then, you can start back."

If you know the first thing about breastfeeding, you're either laughing hysterically, or staring in open-mouthed disbelief. At two weeks, one doesn't simply stop for two weeks and start back up. I don't know if it works that way for dairy cattle, but it damn sure doesn't work like that for humans. Demand is the trigger for supply.

Next, I called my pediatrician. Though I wasn't his patient, he said right away, "Of course. Let me call you in something else." I almost cried from relief. He went on to say he planned to have a chat with both of these physicians, since his colleagues were obviously laboring under a good deal of misinformation.

That incident was the only bump int he road. After that, smooth sailing until she was weaned.

Now, that same child has a child of her own. (Yes, I'm posting a photo, and thank you for asking!) :p
Alexandra Channing, two weeks

She made the decision to breastfeed. My mother would be proud--of her mother-in-law-type person (they aren't married, I have no idea what to call this woman). She's regurgitating every argument my mother ever used. She's made some comments my daughter finds very upsetting, like referring to my daughter as 'the milk machine' and other subtle digs that aren't going down well, given the highly hormonal state of a newly postpartum mother.

So, they go to the pediatrician. Baby Alex has lost a few ounces. The pediatrician asks about feeding and ultimately says, " You need to supplement with formula."

Here we go again. Like that won't lead to ceasing breastfeeding entirely? What I cannot wrap my head around is that twenty-five years have passed since I first tossed my hat into this arena, and doctors seem to be spouting the same misinformation. This time, I feel it's more sinister, since this bad advice is coming from a pediatrician, rather than a pulmonary specialist.

I'm proud of my kid. She stuck to her guns and sought a second opinion by going to a lactation specialist.

But..she could sure use some moral support. If you would, leave her YOUR stories about breastfeeding, since she's heard mine. How to stick with it, tricks for getting over the hurdles yet to come, stories of ...well, of anything on the topic, really. Misery does love company. As well as something to read at three a.m. when she's nursed and nursed and the baby is still latched on.

Feel free to digress into stories about how well breastfeed is or is not supported in your community or family. Stories of success, of failure, of what you did, of what you wish you'd done....all welcome.

Thanks! Have a great week :)

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Goin' Down ~ #SexySnippets

Life deals Eric a harsh blow, and all he can think about is being with Amy. But when he finds her, she's just been turned down for a very important project. Do they fight? Yes, but not the way he expects. She challenges him to a Nerf ball duel in the middle of the mall. When she informs Eric with a glint in her eye that he's going down, he has a typical De Marco response. 

She poked him in the chest with the end of her gun. “You’re going down, De Marco.”
He leaned down until their noses nearly touched. “Oh, hell yes, I will go down. Count on that. Bet a quarter, I can make you cry with just my tongue.” Her cheeks darkened, and for a moment, her eyes had that unfocused look. 

Be sure to read the sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or Facebook. Thanks for stopping by. Have a great week!

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Jealous of the Rain ~ #SexySnippets

Seven more from Rain on Me. 

Yes. Yes, I did change the cover again. Thanks for noticing. :D

(Ray is speaking)

“Your mama sure does have a knack for raisin’ pretty things. And that boyfriend who's sendin’ you postcards from all over the world sure must be jealous of this rain.” Ray knew damn well he had no fucking business trying to find out if she was seeing anyone.
“Why would you say that?”
He lifted a finger to her shoulder, but didn’t touch her. Catching one of the droplets sliding down her bare arm with his fingernail, he stared into her eyes. “Rain’s bound to make your man feel bad, ‘cause this drop of water’s doing what he wants to be doing, sliding over your bare skin.”
Be sure to read the sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or Facebook
Also, please check out the silent auction hosted by Naughty Nights Press. Tragically, their graphic artist, Shane Willis, died unexpectedly at far too young an age. Many, many books have been donated by talented authors and grouped into bundles. Treat yourself and honor the man behind the NNP covers.

Thanks for dropping in. Have a great week! 

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Good For the Soul ~ #SexySnippets

My seven today come from Incidental Contact, book #3 in my Devilish De Marco Men series. Eric's explaining how he plans to teach plump, plain-Jane Amy Sizemore to feel sexy. 

 “I mean, you may only orgasm at my whim. Whenever and however I want to give you one, I’ll give you one. And you’ll accept however many I choose to give you. I’m not a one-and-done kind of guy. And no cheating. You can’t give yourself one unless I’m watching. We do that on Sundays, because masturbation’s good for the soul.”

Think my little Education major might regret asking about the syllabus? 

Be sure to read the sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or FacebookThanks for dropping in. Have a great week! 

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Feel the Rain ~ #SexySnippets

Where did summer go? Between  the demise of my laptop screen (Arrgh! Head bang...damn technology, can't live with it, but let it break down and you'll find out quick enough just how many ways you can't live without it) and the impending birth of my granddaughter, I haven't been posting, but Incidental Contact is still on track to be released in September, though later than I wished. And Rain on Me, my interracial rope bondage kinky love story is coming along. My seven today are from Rain on Me. Zinnie and Ray are still where we last left them, in the old bed and breakfast on Battery Row in Charleston.

(Unedited excerpt, Ray is speaking)

"Bob Dylan said some people feel the rain, while others just get wet. I think you feel the rain, Zinnie. That's what drew me to you. Ever since, I've wondered whether you'd  feel the rope that same way." His gaze was hooded, but the weight of his words made me think I could feel his stare. "Rope can be just a method to tie you up to have kinky sex. I never know, when I bind someone new, if I'll summon a shower or a unleash a storm."

Be sure to read the sexy snippets from the other participants. Check the links here, or follow on Twitter or FacebookThanks for dropping in. Have a great week! I should, my laptop is due back Thursday, with a brand new screen, a new keyboard--yes, it is possible to wear one out--and more than double the memory. Plus, any day now, I'll be a grandmother again. Second time this summer. There's no technology to help wrap my head around that. :)