Back from mental vacation with tidbit of story for my ebook

If you feel this portion of my upcoming book should be classified as ‘erotic’ and for adults only, please leave a comment. My friend and I don’t feel it is erotic content, but we’re only two voices. Thanks.

So let’s begin the tidbit…

Childhood forms an adult, or so say some intellectuals studying childhood-to-adulthood development. If that is true, I make a very interesting study for such intellectuals.

My mother came from a prominent, wealthy, established family in Ontario, Canada, with a long history of political and business offspring. My father came from a family which bred no particular persons of interest, and in fact were quite a dull, middle-class lot. Thus lays proof of ‘opposites attract’.

My mother grew up knowing wealth and prominence placed her above others, particularity when it came to society and its rules. After all, she was a (name removed for blog post)! My mother made sure this elitist mentality of hers was adhered to by her husband and her children. Oh yes, children. I was first born, followed years later by my sister, and a brother each of the following two years.

We lived in a gorgeous old mansion in Rosedale, a neighbourhood of Toronto. A giant Chestnut tree stood guard at the corner of our property.

I was a bit of a tomboy, and beginning at six years of age I would climb the branches almost to the top and sit there waiting for people below to walk by the tree. I would then drop Chestnuts on them. I was scolded several times for doing that, but neither my mother or father ever did anything other than talk to me when I was misbehaving. I believe that is why later in life I sought a man who could control me. I was spoilt, and misbehaved without punishment of any lasting impression. Looking at my life now, I doubt even severe reprimands would have change how I turned out. But, who knows? For that matter, who cares? I’ve had a wonderful life and have no regrets.

I was a precocious child, and an avid reader early on in my development. I was also unexpected, a fact which I was constantly reminded of by my mother in a most malevolent tone of voice; “I had to get married because of you!” You can imagine the emphasis she placed on the word ‘you’. She’d then purse her lips and glower at me, as if I was responsible for her spreading her legs for anyone she fancied.

At the age of four I discovered how easily I could manipulate my father. It was the beginning of my disdain for weak men. A smile, a wink, a sad face, a pleading face, they all worked on my dad. Most four year olds probably don’t recognize the power they have at that age, but I did.

At the age of seven I discovered sex. I was upstairs in my bedroom reading when I got thirsty and decided to go downstairs and get some apple juice. I was about to come down the stairs when I heard whispered sounds of my mother and another man. Curious, I snuck a little further down the stairs to find my mothers’ head bobbing up and down between the legs of our neighbour Mr. (name removed for this blog post.)

My mother seemed to be having a lot of fun, sometimes swishing her head from side to side as she moved it up and down.

I couldn’t see exactly what  mother was grabbing with her right hand every now and then, but she would reach up and kiss Mr. Franklin whenever she was holding whatever it was she was holding in her right hand. This seemed to please them both, especially my mother.

Mr. Franklin moved his body up and down, sometimes in unison with my mom, but he didn’t appear enthusiastic about either.


Reliving lovers

I’ve been frolicking with past loves, reliving momentous moments, and am not sure how much I shall put in my ebook or book.

What attracted me to some of my loves was that all they needed was a little guidance from me and they would be greater. Confidence, that’s the word. They appeared to me to lack that extra level of confidence to make them greater.

It’s not that they weren’t already great in their particular realm of business, and for me every activity was business, whether the man was a doctor, lawyer, CEO, banker, salesman, or entrepreneur. Or some bum on the street whom I admired for his gumption.

I had my style of interviewing lovers who I felt could fit well with my group of boys, and if the potential lover passed muster there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to ensure my group accepted him warmly.

Some lovers failed my interviews miserably, became jealous or threatened physical harm. One or two reacted quite physically, thinking brawn won battles when it is really brains. They were just stupid. Summarily dismissed they would look not at them-self for answers, preferring the easy way of blaming others for their misfortune.

The stupid, stupid, toads. They had kissed the princess who could bring them the world but, like a dog with a bone, they snarled and snapped at the thought of someone else sharing their pleasures. Small minded cretins, that’s what they were, small minded cretins!

But there were handsome princes who passed muster, discovered more about himself and his understanding of the world through my guidance, and those wonderful lovers, those wonderful forces of nature and business who understood you could mix business with pleasure quite marvelously, those are the delightful creatures I’ve frolicked with these past few days.


At my age no one can truly hurt me, emotionally or financially, for I carry that hard protective shell formed by layer upon layer of learning’s now past.

I say that because it took me a long time before deciding to write a book and a blog about certain lessons in my life.

A friend had given me 50 Shades to read and said, “This could be about our lives, or some of our friends. We should write something and see if we can’t make a little money too.”

Just the thought of prostituting myself once more for money turned my stomach, but after thinking about it all I came to this conclusion ‘What can anyone do to me now that hasn’t been done already?”

I did a little research, bought a program called Scrivener, and a few weeks back started placing memories within it.

I had many teachers in my life, a wonderfully rich life overflowing with fulfilled dreams. I’ve had harsh lessons too; the worst being the death of my only true lover and friend, my husband of 30 years.

I buried his ashes near this tree in the back part of our property. Our property. That seems so strange to write now that he is dead. But in my heart it will always be ‘our’ property.

Memories buried here

I have to stop writing.