I'm in the December 2009 Penthouse!

I'm not naked, though. At least not physically. But my naughty imagination is laid fully bare in the words of my story "Nasty Little Habit," which first appeared in the soaringly sexy anthology, The Mile High Club: Plane Sex Stories, edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel.

I really love the illustrations by Charlene Chua (you'll have to buy the magazine to see the other picture--my story starts on page 116!) She does a fantastic job of capturing the spirit of my story while adding an extra element of sensual visual pleasure, so thank you for your wonderful art, Ms. Chua, wherever you are. I've experienced the thrill of having my work illustrated just a few times, and this is the most satisfying yet.

This particular publication is especially sweet for me for a couple of other reasons. I'm in the December issue and my birthday is December 31, so it's like an early birthday present. I've also been a stealth fan of Penthouse from way back, the summer of '76 to be exact. Little did I dream when I studied the pages of the Bicentennial issue so many years ago that my own work would appear in the pages of a magazine that has truly shaped the national sexual imagination.

The December 2009 issue will hold the place of honor in my collection, mostly issues bought on e-bay from 1976, but also the 40th anniversary issue from this summer and another from 2004 in which an erotica-writing friend's hot fantasy appears in an article on threesomes.

I also want to thank Rachel for yet again inspiring me to take some chances in my writing. When I originally responded to the call for plane sex stories, I set a private goal for myself--to write about something that could actually happen to an ordinary person. Some might assume (and in my less confident moments, I belong in that group) this would mean a boring, ordinary story. But Rachel and Penthouse were both willing to give the nod to a quieter, more subtle, if no less satisfying, form of mile-high pleasure. I raise my glass of champagne to you both--and happy flying to all!

Masked Men (and Women)

I've been very busy with non-blogland activities for the past week, but I wanted to post my Halloween picture before the season slipped too far away. And yes, I'm still planning to finish up my report on my summer vacation--before next June at the latest!

Here is Herr Doktor and I pretending we have pseudonyms. Simple as they were, our costumes seem to impress our viewers with an uncanny feeling. Numerous people insisted I had to drop my mask so they could see my real face, while a surprising number got that Herr Doktor was "The Corporation" without being told and confessed his costume was the most frightening thing they'd seen all night.

I myself was pretty creeped out by his deliberately measured gestures and his real eyes peering out at me through the plastic eye holes. The thought flashed into my head--yikes, do I know this person?

Nothing like Halloween to bring out a different side of you.

My younger son made a splash on bustling Mariposa Street with his fancy light saber, rushing from house to house like a Jedi on a mission. To my relief, my older son returned unharmed from trick-or-treating with his high school buddies in the wilder part of town. His costume (Garth from Wayne's World) was appreciated by many, especially merrymakers who may have smoked a bit of weed themselves. He also suffered from some hazing at the door due to his advanced age. One guy studied him for a minute and said, "You have a mustache, you shouldn't be trick-or-treating," leaving his chronologically older friends unchallenged. But at least he gave him candy anyway. Another man told him, "You look like my ex-girlfriend. And that's not a good thing." After that, my son took off the long blond wig and went as a nerd.

One gripe though--Baby Ruth's and Almond Joys were nowhere to be found in the candy piles on my living room floor, while the loathsome Three Musketeers and Milk Ways (both promptly tossed in the trash) were sadly abundant. I mean Snickers are okay, but those frothy, wimpy Three Musketeers? What is the world coming to? Do I have to go buy coconut and nougat candy at a real chocolatier or something?

I hope your Halloween was illuminating and sweet!

Size Queens and Sentence Fondling

Can you believe it's November already? But hey, it's my new favorite month of the year, and I hope that I can even fit in a little writing in the next few weeks of quiet and contemplation before the holidays really hammer us.

Not that I haven't been writing a lot this past week. Actually, I've been writing about writing and you can read all about it in the Erotica Readers and Writers Association's latest exciting edition of their fabulous newsletter, the Erotic Lure.

In my Shameless Self-Promotion column, "Bigger is Better: Bookstores from Indies to Amazon," I talk about why bigger can be better for the struggling small author and give you my tips for getting attention for your book at local bookstores and at the biggest bookselling marketplace of all.

My sex, food, and writing meditation in Cooking Up a Storey continues the discussion of story critiquing and mentoring with "Don’t Fondle My Sentence: Sex with Strangers, Casual Critiques, and Fearlessly Arty Applesauce." You'll learn about my traumatic past and why I'm gun shy about giving critiques, then when the confessing is done, you can stir up a batch of delicious applesauce just the way you like it. It's the season after all!

Enjoy! (And, yep, that frozen peach applesauce was mighty good...)