I wandered into a awesome sex toy store in New Zealand and saw Irresistible (the first book I was published in) sitting on the shelf. Hooray!
Today I bring you an interview with the fabulous woman behind “Glitter: Real Stories from Real Women about Sexual Desire,” Mona Darling!
3-What’s your vision for Glitter?
6-What else would you like to share?
Join the Glitter Movement at Glitterhood.com. Share your story and offer support to others. Lets end the era of women tearing other women down and start a new era of women supporting each other unconditionally.
Mona Darling spent close to twenty years as an A-list professional dominatrix before becoming a D-list mommy blogger. After spending many years traveling the world being told that she is fabulous, she now spends her days being told she doesn’t drive fast enough by her three-year-old son.
She writes, sporadically, about food, sex and toddler-related mayhem at DeadCowGirl.com.
I’m so proud to be associated with this book. If you are/were a fan of The Vagina Monologues, you will love Glitter. It’s a compilation of true stories about sex and sexuality. There are women from all walks of life. The stories include overcoming sexual abuse, still being a virgin, hiring a call girl, coming out and so many others.
Mona asked us to check out the pdf to ensure that our stories didn’t have any typos and the next thing I knew I’d read every story in the collection.
My essay is called Invisible Bisexual…here’s a short excerpt
Even though by that point I had gay friends and had divorced myself of the prejudices of my upbringing, I just couldn’t wrap my head around my own sexuality. Had I been attracted solely to women, I could have understood that. Wanting both men and women made me feel guilty. Why couldn’t I just pick?
This is the heart of one of the most harmful and common tropes of bisexuality-that we are greedy, slutty fence sitters who are unwilling to limit ourselves to partners of one sex. I should know how harmful it is—it’s the argument with which I berated myself.
Admitting that I sought counseling from my college’s therapists is somewhat embarrassing. But I needed to talk to someone, to say things aloud that I’d kept quiet for a long time, and they provided a safe environment. Within a few months of that make out session, I came out to someone for the first time. My friends accepted me. My mom decided it was a phase I’d soon be over, just as I’d gotten over my goth phase, and rolled her eyes.
I have not and will not receive any payment for this book–all proceeds are going to be donated to support women’s reproductive health.
At the moment it’s only available in the US
- Amazon US-paperback only. Mona tells me Kindle is coming, but there are formatting issues at the moment.
- Create Space
My story, Renewal, is one of the stories included in that anthology. Below is an excerpt…
“I used to feel lust when I saw you. I’d look at your hands and fantasize about them sliding under my skirt at that movie we saw on our third date. I’d see your dimples and remember all the stuff you talked me into…remember Cabo? Now it’s like you’re a stranger. But I’m a stranger, too. I didn’t recognize myself in a mirror today. We’re two strangers.”
I desperately needed him to understand what I wanted.
As I’d talked, Super Corporate Guy had fallen away. Justin had leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, lips quirking in small smiles at the memories. “Strangers?” He rolled the word around in his mouth, testing its flavor.
“If you were my wife, I’d tell you that I’d work harder on us. That I love you. But you’re a stranger.” As he circled me, inhaling my perfume, his voice got deeper.
“That’s right. I’m a stranger. And you’re here for one reason.”
“You’re the kind of woman who’d bring a stranger to a hotel room for that?” he asked, his hand sliding over my breast, pinching my nipple for emphasis.
That touch sent a long missing ripple through my body. I hesitated, hoping he’d remember what I love. The pinch grew harder until I gasped, then changed to a rhythmic back and forth against the erect nub hungry for that exact touch. My eyes closed with pleasure. He leaned forward and began to nibble on my neck, his finger still at work on my breast, his other hand sliding down to cup my ass.
“Yes” I hissed with pleasure.
If you’re interested in buying Irresistible, you can find it at these websites…
- US Amazon (paperback and kindle)
- UK Amazon (paperback and kindle)
- US Barnes & Noble (paperback and kindle) -note, marginally more expensive than Amazon
- Fishpond.com (paperback–free worldwide shipping)
- Singapore- Open Trolley (paperback)
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day. The husband had to work late, and I was home with the girls. The baby, at 4 months, is hardly a handful…but the 3 year old can be another story entirely.
I rigged a game of Candyland to ensure a speedy end once I’d announced that bedtime was imminent, after the game was over. I had barely settled her and gone out to the living room when my husband got home.
I was surprised that instead of feeling happy that he was home….I felt a frisson of disappointment. Part of me had been gearing up for an hour or two of alone time before ending the evening with my partner. While I was happy to see him, and had been missing him…I felt a little cheated of “me time.”
I recognized this feeling from my last go-round with the newborn period. The sensation of being “touched out.” I love that the LM is affectionate and loves to climb in my lap and give me hugs and beg for “Mommy ups” (to be picked up and hugged tightly) and so forth. I love that I’ve managed a successful breastfeeding relationship with BG. I love that my husband is still attracted to me physically after almost 7 years together and 2 children. But there are days when I all I want is NOT to be touched, hugged, pulled on, climbed on, breastfed from, and so forth.
Yesterday I took that “me time” by making my husband dinner. Yes, it’s a total cliche…but I love to cook, and the kitchen is my domain. Making food for my loved ones makes me happy (most days…) and as I prefer to cook alone, it also serves as a place where I get that touch-free time. By the time dinner was ready, I was more than happy to hang out with him and watch the Daily Show online.
Feeling touched out is normal. It’s hard not to read too much into it, especially if you’re a first time mom. One of the perks of second time parenthood is that it’s easier to identify those transient feelings, and to acknowledge them, and to deal with them constructively (most of the time).
In other news…the book is out! Go buy it! Irresistible: Erotic Romance for Couples! (And, yes I do see the irony of pimping my story about sex after kids in a post about feeling touched out…)