The Naughty Bits

Please let me introduce you to a very neat lady. TJ and I met almost two years ago when both of us were on the verge of signing contracts. Both of us had stars in our eyes, holding tight to our dreams of publication. And we can tell you, dreams do come true. I've read some of TJ's work and well . . . wow. Don't wait. Order her book now.

In anticipation of the upcoming release of her Reformation Germany-set historical, The Legacy, she's running her first contest in conjunction with her guest blogging tours (see below). She will be guest hosting four wonderful blogs between Mar 29 and April 7. Anyone who visits and posts a comment on at least two of the blogs will be entered for a chance to win a signed copy of The Legacy and either a $40 Barnes & Noble gift certificate or a $40 e-certificate for GermanDeli.com, a Texas-based German food store where customers can order everything from a spaetzle-press to apple strudel imported straight from Germany! If anyone has ever wanted to sample German food on someone else's Euro, now is the chance (or, of course, if books are preferred, the winner can choose the B&N gift certificate instead). For rules and information go to her blog:www.tjbsopinion.blogspot.com.

Take it away TJ.



I've been asked to be a guest blogger here on Killer Fiction, and since every dog must have her day, today is apparently mine. Not that I'm a dog, mind you, but I think you get my point.

What was my point?

Oh, yes, guest blogger. So, I've chosen as my subject husbands. I know, I know, it's hard to top Crime Scene Christie's husband posts, but bear with me. What I really want is advice.

So, husbands. I've got one, and he's a peach. Love the guy. Best thing that ever happened to me, most days. Other days, I'd like to shoot him, but even in Texas, where we live, the legal foundations for that are shaky. ("But, Officer, he forgot to reload the toilet paper roll, again. He needed killin'!")

Anyway, these days, hubby is on my "good guy" list because he's promoting my debut novel amongst his friends and co-workers and trying to market me to everyone he knows. My book, The Legacy, a historical romance set in 1525 Reformation Germany, will be available on April 1st everywhere (yes, that's April Fool's Day, let's get the jokes out of your system now. Go ahead, I'll wait.)

Done? Okay, back to the topic at hand, which is husbands. Mine, the peach, thinks I'm the best writer who ever walked. He's proud of me, having finally adjusted to the idea of his wife being a historical romance author. The adjustment was necessary when he finally thought to ask me, six years after my novel was completed and nine months before it was due to be released, if it had any S-E-X in it.

"Yes," I answered, wondering where this conversation was taking us but having a feeling I already knew.

"You actually describe ... it?" he asked, whispering the last word and darting a hunted look over his shoulder like David Janssen in The Fugitive.

I nodded. "Yep."

"But you don't describe it in detail. With body parts and everything. We're talking PG-13, right?"

I bit my lip. "R-rated, I'm afraid. Not the whole book, just certain ... parts of it."

Long pause. Another hunted look. "What parts?"

I smiled secretively. "I guess you'll just have to buy the book."

In a few days, of course, he can do just that, because even though he thinks I'm the best thing walking (see above), he's never actually read any of my romances before (and no, I'm not giving him a free copy. He can get in line like everyone else). Gotta love that blind faith, though. Still, now it means I'm biting my nails. My husband's a conservative guy. What will he think when he gets to that part? The R-rated one, I mean. Well, both of them. Okay, all three of them. Hubby is a romantic artist, he's a Picasso in the bedroom, but hey, I write Romance with a capital R, and we have to exaggerate in fiction, don't we? Will he wonder if I'm making comparisons? Will he wonder where I learned that stuff? Will he wonder why we don't get to do that stuff at home? Or if I expect him to? Do that stuff at home, that is?

I've got a good answer for that. Tell me what you think.

"Honey," he'll ask me, aghast, "is that what you really expect from a man in bed?"

"Sweetie," I'll answer, "that man is just a fantasy. A figment of my imagination."

"But isn't that what women really want? The fantasy?" His lower lip will tremble slightly, but then he'll firm it up, like the real man he is.

"Sugar," I'll answer, while laying my head on his broad chest and fluttering my eyelashes rapidly, "that guy might be my fantasy, but you're my dream come true."

What do you think? Will it work? Or, like a certain red-headed Lucy, will I have some 'splaining to do?

Any other writers out there who ever worry what your family might think when they read the naughty bits in your books?

TJ Bennett
www.tjbennett.com