Switching Gears

By Robin 'Red Hot' Kaye

After finishing my first book in my Bad Boys of Red Hook series, I had to get my head back into my Domestic Gods—men who cook, clean, and know how to take care of their women. It’s been a difficult transition from Red Hook in Brooklyn, to the Sawtooth National Recreation Area in the mountains of Idaho, to get out of my bad boys heads and into Trapper Kincaid, irreverent judge, outdoorsman, and all around great guy.

 I was lucky enough to marry my very own Domestic God, so over the last few days, I had to remind myself of all the ways my Domestic God makes almost everything in life more bearable—the ones I can write about, anyway.

 ➢ My Domestic God wakes me up every morning with a smile and a cup of coffee. I choose to believe he does this because I’m worth it. He tells me he does it because he loves me—and because of that pesky safety issue. I’m downright scary until after I’ve had my coffee. The man has learned the importance of buying great coffee and has extraordinary coffee-making ability. It’s a gift.

 ➢ Laundry and cleaning: Before I began writing seriously, my Domestic God did laundry only when he was in fear of having to wear his “emergency spare” pair of underwear—the dreaded Christmas Tigger boxers which, in his estimation, were not only embarrassing, but very uncomfortable. But I digress. In case you are unaware, cleaning and laundry are my nemesis. As a stay-at-home mom, I did my fair share of both. Okay, I’ll admit, I did as little of my fair share as possible. Still, I did more cleaning and laundry than anyone should be subject to in a lifetime.

 When I began working toward publication, my Domestic God sat me down and told me he’d been thinking. He’d decided that writing and taking care of the kids were two full-time jobs. Since he only had one job, it was only fair that he take over the cleaning and laundry. After he revived me from my dead faint, he got very lucky.

 ➢ Childcare: It’s understood that Domestic Gods either take over childcare responsibilities when they come home from work or they cook dinner. My DG, while sufficient in the kitchen, is not the cook that I am. He always took over the changing of diapers, bathing of kids, and telling of bedtime stories while I cooked dinner. He regarded it as his quality time with the kids. I regarded it as my quality time without them. Until the kids were old enough to clean up after dinner, DG usually did the dishes, too, God love him.

 ➢ My Domestic God is willing to be brave and inconvenienced. He and my son—DG in Training—are called upon to kill bugs and pick up dead critters the cat drags in—even if it means driving home from work to do so. My DG doesn’t understand why I can play with octopi and snakes, deal with any amount of blood or medical procedures, not be bothered by live critters, but totally freak when I come in contact with a dead mouse or squirrel, or worse, a not-quite-dead mouse, squirrel, rabbit, or possum. My Domestic God knows not to tease me about my ick factor tolerance, and appreciates the opportunity to show his true heroic qualities. My DG in training has yet to learn either of those finer points.

 ➢ I believe Domestic Gods must be handy around the house and with cars or be willing to pay those who are. It would behoove said DG to make sure whomever he hired be easy on the eyes. I do so love a man in a tool-belt, but then, my DG has his own tool-belt and can fix pretty much anything. He’s also easy on the eyes, although these eyes wouldn’t mind some variety in dreamy tool-belt-wearing men. Unfortunately, I’ll probably never get to drool over another, but then I don’t have to deal with the guys who aren’t so dreamy and have a penchant for showing off butt cleavage, either.


Trapper Kincaid is a Domestic God Gone Wild, so he can do all of the above, indoors or out. He can cook a five-course meal in a kitchen or over a campfire, excels in the bedroom, tent... okay, he excels pretty much everywhere after the first of May anyway, loves to clean--I know, he's a little sick, and has a string of 72-hour affairs. Now all I have to do is figure out how to get he and Bianca together for more than 72-hours...

Thanks for allowing me to do this little exercise to get my head back into my Domestic Gods! So, if you had your very own Domestic God, what would you want him to do for you? I can't wait to hear your answers, but, um, please remember this is a PG 13 rated blog...