What can I say about it that hasn't already been said? That it's a day I look forward to every year? Not really. That it's a day for lovers to express their love for one another? Actually, we should do that every day. Do I like it because I might get candy? Nope. I'm what they call a pre-diabetic and probably shouldn't be eating candy at all--and in case you haven't checked the labels lately, even the sugar-free variety isn't exactly low in carbohydrates.
There have been a whole slew of Valentine's Day posts here in the past week or so, and having read Robin's blog from a few days back, I'm intrigued as to why whipping the girls would increase their fertility. It might increase a few other things, such as ire, coupled with a determination never to hook up with a man wielding a whip, but I suppose if nudity--particularly male--was involved, it might make me more inclined to overlook the whipping part.
That being said, I think all we really need this Valentine's Day is a good, hot hunk to get us in the mood. And--would you look at that!--I just so happen to have one.
While I was on vacation in Tennessee with the girls earlier this month, we watched a lot of movies, and My Life in Ruins was one of them. The hunk to the left there is Alexis Georgoulis, who was the romantic lead in the film, and in one scene in particular, I could have sworn he was the cover model for Slave. I couldn't find many shirtless photos of him, at least, not from that movie, but he did have the desired effect: he got me thinking about romance again.
What's that you say? A romance writer whose mind isn't firmly fixed on romance??? How awful! What a tragedy! But it's true. What with one deadline and another, I haven't had it on my mind very much lately, and going away for a week with my friends normally doesn't help a whole helluva lot. You see, the truth is, I need testosterone, and when I hang around exclusively with women, there's not a lot of it to be had. And just being in the same room with men doesn't help particularly--unless, perhaps, they're as hot as Alexis.
I learned why that is from reading one of Mary Margret's books. Testosterone is transmitted via touch, rather than being airborne like female hormones/pheromones, which makes me understand why men tend to touch women to arouse their inner passions. You may dismiss it as bunk, but I'm pretty sure it works because when there isn't any of it around, those passions tend to lie dormant--at least, they do in my case. Visual stimulation is great, but there's nothing quite like the tactile version, is there? Just imagine Alexis running a fingertip from your cheekbone to your collarbone. Have your own bones turned to jelly yet?
Which brings me to. . . dancing. We've been discussing movies a lot lately, and there are a ton of them that involve dancing--even in the title. Dirty Dancing, Flashdance, Dances With Wolves (well, it DID involve Kevin Costner, didn't it?) And then there are the great dancing scenes. Who could forget Rhett Butler and that scandalous waltz with the recently widowed Scarlett O'Hara? Or Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr in The King and I? Or my personal favorite, Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone? That dance was HOT, but to be honest, I've never done much dancing, which brings me to another subject entirely.
While at the lake with the girls, we each made our Bucket List. If you haven't seen that movie (which is terrific, by the way), it's the list of things you want to do before you die. And on each of our lists was learning how to dance. Surprised? You shouldn't be. What better way is there to get close enough to a man--even a stranger--to get your daily dose of testosterone? On my list, dancing was listed no less than five times. Don't believe me? Here's an excerpt:
7. Take Dance Lessons
8. Go to Greece/Mexico/Argentina/Italy and dance with a hot, long-haired Greek/Mexican/Argentinian/Italian man.
Based on this assessment, I recommend dancing as an excellent Valentine's Day activity. Just as long as it's with a guy you really want to get close to, as opposed to the kind you wish were light years away.
As for the rest of my Bucket List, I can't tell you everything, but having sex with a Zetithian was #3.
I think I'll start with Manx.
Shall we dance?