Getting That Glass from Half Full to Empty: The Value of a New Year's Wine

The world celebrates the beginning of a new year today. Some of you lucky folks welcomed the new year yesterday, but at press time, most of us were already embracing 2014.

My guess is that very few of you are in the appropriate emotional state to hear more about drinking. That’s understandable. Stick with me for just another few paragraphs anyway. I want to explain how a nice glass of wine today can get you in a better place for the new year.

You’ll have to slow down. A nice glass of wine – and I prefer a rich, full-bodied red wine for the new year – is going to force you to slow down and focus on it. That’s not true for our other friends behind the bar. You’ll have to gulp a shot. Keeping beer cold and effervescent demands some measure of attention. And while hard liquor has the power to slow you down, a nice glass of tequila doesn’t have the volume to keep you occupied for very long. Stick with a glass of wine, and slow down. Savor it. Take it sip by sip. You have a whole year ahead of you.

Alexa? Alexa, come on! You're thinking too hard! 

Wine stimulates thought. I know, I know. We’ve all seen that brave soul at the end of the bar, gazing deeply into the melting ice cubes as they settle into his glass of whiskey. Something’s on his mind. It’s probably a pretty deep question. Will she ever come back? Was everyone right about me? Are Tony Romo and Kyle Orton really that different? But you know what he’s not thinking about? He’s not thinking about how watery his drink is getting. Your glass of red is gently breathing there in its glass, ready to warm your viscera and stimulate your gray matter. It only took me a third of a glass to realize that Romo would probably have done the same thing Orton did against the Eagles. Then I was able to turn to other, more mysterious things, like whether now is a good time to take things to the next level with Jason Garrett. Remember, the active ingredient in wine is truth. The same cannot be said for Johnnie Walker and Captain Morgan, can it? (In case you’re wondering, wine said I should wait to have that talk with Jason. Tequila would have told me to go to his house. I don't ask tequila important questions anymore.)

Wine likes company. I’m not talking about friends, although I do love a nice drink with my fellow oenophiles. I’m talking about food. Something about a nice red makes food rise to the occasion. I find I can taste the lash of the grill more with the help of a glass of wine. A bit of cheese finds depth and dimension under the influence of wine. Even the lowly french fry enjoys the company of a sophisticated wine. Because you’re drinking slowly, you have the freedom to concentrate on your senses more. A good meal with a good wine is a special blessing, and the perfect setting for a nice long meditation on this new year. Starting 2014 by indulging your senses – how can that be a wrong idea?

It’s almost nine in the morning on New Year’s Day. What are you waiting for? I can hear your corkscrew gently weeping from here.

Happy New Year!

**Alexa Day is here to meet you on the first Wednesday of every month, and she is usually sober. Promise. Check her out here for a new way to bring the sensual into your everyday life, and then follow her on Facebook during the month. You can also be a part of her unfortunate TV habits on Twitter. And don't worry. Wine told her that working on her next book would take her mind off Jason Garrett.

'Tis A Gift To Be Sexy: Who Will Be People's Next Sexiest Man Alive?

What a glorious time of year this is! The leaves are changing, Thanksgiving is still in the future, and the elections are over. Today I want to remind us of a lesser known November occasion, one that isn’t on most people’s calendars. Put a big red circle around the 16^th.

That’s the day People Magazine crowns this year’s Sexiest Man Alive.

I’m not sure who will take home the title this year. Last year Channing Tatum was the big winner. Last year is also the first time I started to really question the process.

Let’s be clear before I start with the complaining. I am not going to tell Channing Tatum that I had a lovely time but I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow morning. That would be terribly silly, wouldn’t it? He’s not a bad looking fellow at all.

But is he sexy? Is he?

I don’t want to say no … but I can’t say yes.

Sexy, to me, is about a hell of a lot more than looks. Strength of character is sexy. Experience is sexy. Intellect is super sexy.

I’m not saying that I don’t see that in Channing Tatum. I will say I had to go to GQ to see what, if anything, was really going on inside the pretty. I just think – and yes, my mouth does burn a little to say this – we can do better.

How? Well, let’s look at Benedict Cumberbatch.

Benedict was just named Empire Magazine’s Sexiest Movie Star. He’s got depth of character (that's my favorite picture of him), he doesn’t take himself too seriously, and he does a great Chewbacca impression. Is it too much to hope that he’ll end up on People’s cover this year, too? Probably. But I’m hoping anyway.

Who else? I checked out Glamour UK’s gallery – they put this contest to the popular vote – for some ideas. 

First I imposed a couple of restrictions.

I’m not sure anyone under the age of 25 is even old enough to be sexy. Seriously, if you’re younger than 25, you don’t know the world, yourself, or what you want well enough to be sexy. That would keep Justin Bieber off the list of candidates. I’m sorry, I just can’t think of a single reason Justin Bieber would be sexy.

 Because experience is sexy, I don’t think New Jacks, Johnnies Come Lately, or other Flavors of the Month should be on the list of candidates, either. This should also exclude those candidates who haven’t really been doing anything lately (bye bye, Taylor Lautner).

Having said all that, a quick look see at the gallery turns up some promising candidates. Robert Downey Jr. is still one of my favorites. His trip back to the world from rock bottom, his perspective on the journey and on his new place in the world, and his rock-solid grasp of who he is – all that makes him big-time sexy. Idris Elba is right up there, too. I like the way he works as a black actor – he doesn’t let it force him into or out of anything. Black is a part of who he is, and it’s an important part, but it’s not all there is, and he won’t let anyone forget it.

When all is said and done, I just want to see more of a focus on the sexy instead of just the hot. Granted, this might mean a shift in emphasis away from the young and the very young. But the good news is that sexy is much more durable than hot. Once a man is sexy, chances are that he’ll always be sexy. For a hot man, the future is far less certain. Even if he stays hot, which does happen from time to time, there will always be someone younger and hotter waiting in the wings.

Sexy is evergreen. Maybe that’s why this annual ritual is such a good fit for the winter, right?

Alexa Day's ILLICIT IMPULSE is a finalist in the Erotica category in the 2014 EPIC E-Book Awards. Check out this story of two friends, a friend with benefits, and a pill that suppresses the bonding hormone wherever e-books are sold, and watch for Alexa right here on the first Wednesday of the month, on Facebook, or on Twitter every Thursday night for Scandal!

With Many Cheerful Thoughts About ... Jason Garrett

Fall is fully upon us here in the Old Dominion. The leaves are changing, the weather’s changing, and football season has set in with a vengeance. I've always enjoyed the savage ballet, but only at the college football level. Pro football left me cold, for the most part. I knew just enough to get by in the fantasy league, but no more.

And then, not long after last month’s post, I found myself watching the Cowboys play the Giants on TV from a barstool in Las Vegas. My buddy had stepped away from a lovely beverage to take a call from her family, and I glanced up just in time to catch Eli Manning throwing a pass directly to the Cowboys. I hate to call it an interception because I think of interceptions as being accidental. This one didn’t look like an accident to me.

After the Manning-fail, the cameras cut to the Giants sideline, where everyone looked disappointed but not that surprised, and to the Cowboys sideline, where everyone was delighted to start the game by taking the ball from the Giants. This is where I first encountered Jason Garrett.

Apparently, the NFL is trying to figure out how to get women interested in football. Well, here’s an idea. Let’s try a focused, female-friendly campaign, heavy on the Jason Garrett. Seriously, look.

No, I get it. Maybe the NFL thinks we will be offended if they suggest we are only into football because omigosh, they’re so cute! I understand. There was even a time I would have been offended. But what is the NFL doing now? They’re offering us form-fitting pink jerseys. I don’t think offering us cute guys is a huge jump.

Lest you think Jason Garrett is all hot alpha pro football coach and no substance, check this out.

Yeah. He just dropped geometry like it’s hawt. You know, because Pythagoras.

I also love that Coach Garrett presumes that someone who might not know who Pythagoras is, would be able to spell Pythagoras in order to look him up on the phone. Good coaches have high expectations.

I see lots of people – mostly male people – who are drinking deeply from the ol’ Haterade with regard to Coach Garrett. They all pretend to be crying about any number of things, but hey, he is hotter and smarter than the typical hater, plus he’s a pro football coach. I’m sure Coach Garrett isn’t letting it get to him.

But … you know, Jason, if the day gets too long, and the haters get too loud, there’s a spot for you right here at the bar, next to me. I’m not going to complain about all that because I’m not that into football. I just know what I like. And I'm down with Pythagoras.

**Alexa Day's Illicit Impulse is a Night Owl Reviews Top Pick. She's supposed to be working on the next book, but she's been distracted by preparations for Romanticon and her apparent inability to follow her new favorite team on television. Catch her right here on the first Wednesday of the month!

Defer and Deliver: An Encouraging Word on the State of Modern Manners

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post on Passionate Reads in which I fretted that the modern state of gender relations had destroyed seduction. Even now, as I write this, I’m a little worried about that. Seduction against a backdrop of gender equity is a very stimulating game and very different from its forefathers, but the players must come to the table with equal levels of skill.

That’s not really what I came here to talk about today. It’s still kind of interesting, but no, not what I’m talking about.

Not long after I started to worry about whether seduction was dead, something interesting happened to me. I was on the elevator at my day job, the only woman on the elevator with five men. We were all going to the same place, and when the door opened, no one moved until I did. Later that week, a man offered me the last chair in a crowded room. (I was grateful, since I was tired and not looking forward to sitting on the credenza, which was where he ended up.)

And then over the holiday, on my way out of the 7-Eleven with a can of Arizona Grape Lime Rickey, an inbound gentleman opened the door and stood out of the way to let me pass. I looked him in the eye as I went by and thanked him.

“Absolutely,” he said. Then he added, “Absolutely! This is Virginia! That’s how we act!”

In that moment, I shared his pride. “That’s right! That’s how we roll!”

And he nodded emphatically at me, the ridiculous, shabbily dressed woman with the giant can of weird soda who was acting so surprised that a man would hold the door open for her.

I took the soda home and thought about all this. Why was I so surprised that my home here in the South is populated with well-mannered men? Was it like this everywhere? And what could I mix with this deliciously intriguing soda?

Honestly, I don’t know how these things work in other places. I’ve never really lived any farther north than Virginia, and apparently the men here still open doors and offer chairs and wait for us to stop gawking and get off the elevator, and they don’t much like it when we act all shocked about it.

Let’s be clear. I absolutely believe men should hold the door, surrender the chair, and let me precede them when the elevator stops. I love it when they rise as I approach the table. I think it’s hot when they light my cigar. I titter when they kiss my hand. I was taught that gentlemen should defer to women in this way. Certainly I could do most of this myself (and yes, I have jumped back, James Brown-like, and kissed myself), but I infinitely prefer having all of it done for me. For just a second, in the doorway or a crowded room or wherever, it’s nice to be treated like a queen.

Still, I worry that one day, gentlemen are going to stop doing it. I worry that they’ve gotten the idea that most women are not into it. I worry that they think it’s outdated. Most importantly, I worry that women are taking all this for granted, loudly criticizing them for it, or maybe doing both, with the result that gentlemen are just going to throw in the towel.

But maybe I shouldn’t worry. This is one of those places where the real world brushes against fiction. Well-mannered gentlemen don’t quit. They don’t give up. They stand up and give way because it’s the right thing to do. That gives me hope.

Enough hope to jump back and kiss myself.

I’m still working on beverage options for that soda, by the way. I’ll let you know how that’s coming along.

**Alexa Day thinks old-world manners are hot. You can catch her here talking about other hot things on the first Wednesday of the month, on Passionate Reads on the second Monday of the month, and on Facebook in the meantime. You might also pick up her debut novel, Illicit Impulse, where the sexiness is not quite so demure.

Why Lois Doesn't See Superman ... And You Don't, Either

I haven’t seen any of the new Superman movies. I am willing to admit that there were four Superman movies, but none of them was made in the 21^st century. As far as I am concerned, there is only one Superman, and the fact that there have been two new Supermen in as many movies … I think that makes my case.

For me, the story of Superman as it appears in film is the story of Lois Lane. Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane made me want to be a reporter, the only one of my childhood when-I-grow-up fantasies I actually pursued. I spent four years in the exciting world of newspaper journalism. Lois was my idol – the spirit of “wherever it breaks, whatever it takes.” I can’t say I actually got to be Lois; my world was far less exciting and utterly devoid of Superman. But I tried hard to be Lois Lane for four years, and I had a great time doing it.

It is usually about here that someone mentions that Lois spent all those years right next to Clark without knowing he was Superman. I can’t argue with that. But I can explain it.

It makes sense to me that Lois was slow to see that Clark was Superman, but I’ll go a little farther than that. I think each of us has had a similar experience. That’s because the most effective secret identities, while they are created by the superhero, are actually maintained by the rest of us. We are doing most of the work.

I feel guilty telling you how this works. Once you see the Superman beside you, your world is going to change in a way you can’t take back. But I can’t help myself.

Lois doesn’t see that Clark is Superman because when she looks at Clark, she can only see Clark. Clark is shorter than Superman. He’s soft-spoken. He’s a little naïve. Good Lord, look at those glasses.

But most importantly, Clark carries around this protective shield of Dorkiness that proclaims him Not Superman. The shield is so effective that she could take those glasses off and look him in the eye and still think, “No. What was I thinking? He’s not Superman.” That’s how it starts.

Clark is set in Lois’s mind as Not Superman. And so it doesn’t matter that Clark – timid, nervous, far from bulletproof (as far as she knows) Clark – once stepped firmly between Lois and the mugger’s pistol. She only sees Not Superman. So what if Clark recited the exact contents of her purse moments later? Clark is Not Superman. It doesn’t matter that Clark and Superman are never in the same place at the same time because Clark is Not Superman.

Similarly, in Lois’s mind, Superman is Not Clark. When Superman catches her as she falls from the top of the Daily Planet building – and then he catches the helicopter falling right behind her – Lois isn’t paying any attention to the fact that Superman looks an awful lot like Clark without the glasses. No way this guy, who leaves her speechless and lightheaded, is Clark. The man who flies her from Metropolis to New York and back again is absolutely Not Clark. (How far is Metropolis from New York? I imagine it’s a short trip if you’re flying.) Clark’s convenient appearance on Lois’s doorstep seconds after Superman leaves only cements things in Lois’s head. Clark is Not Superman.

If she stopped long enough to challenge this in her mind – something Lois finally does in the Donner Director’s Edition of Superman II – she would see that she’s been right next to Superman for a pretty long time. But let’s be fair. How often do any of us stop to challenge the things that are set so firmly in our minds?

Seriously, look around. Every day, I look at the people on my day job and smile to myself. I imagine that they see me as Not Erotic Romance Author. And I wonder how far off the mark my own preconceptions are. Not Musician. Not Triathlete. Not State Trooper.

My day job is great for this, by the way – I’ve met a musician, a triathlete and a state trooper, and I wouldn’t have guessed any of that to look at them.

Here’s a challenge for this month. Look around at those closest to you. Ask yourself what you’re not seeing. And remember that Superman might be right next to you, behind the protective shield of Dorkiness.

Alexa Day’s Illicit Impulse is a Top Pick at Night Owl Reviews. She’s hard at work on her next story, but you can keep up with her on the first Wednesday of the month, right here, on her own site, and on Facebook or Twitter. See you there!

What a Difference a Year Makes ... in the Company of Strumpets

Tough to believe it’s been a year since I kicked off the blog with my first post celebrating our right to bare arms and manly firmness. Where does the time go?

Some of it’s gone into renovations here on the blog. We’ve changed the name and adopted a new identity as Strumpets – which has been loads of fun already. We’ve participated in Brenda Novak’s auction and given away a prize package including a Kindle and a copy of each of our books. We’ve gone to innumerable signings and conferences and festivals, and we’ve all made long strides in our respective publishing journeys.

Time has moved forward, and it’s taking us all with it.

As for me, the one-year mark offers me a chance to get recommitted to my writing. Last month was a thirty-day trial by fire for me. My day job collapsed (a couple of times), my little feline family faced some health crises, and life as a single romance writer threw some major curve balls at me. By the time the month ended, I was exhausted. I couldn’t summon the energy to knit words together into coherent sentences. The idea of writing anything sexy – hell, anything pleasant – felt foreign. Unwieldy. Out of reach.

I didn’t think of quitting altogether. For me, writing is like blinking. If I’m awake, I have to do it, even though it doesn’t feel like I’m getting much of a return. I did, however, think of leaving romance behind. My writing had dried up, leaving behind the sort of desiccated husks that, well, very few people find erotic.

Then I went to The Porches with fellow Strumpets DeniseGolinowski, Sofie Couch, Elvy Howard, and Leah St. James. I’m going to spend more time on my blog describing the place, but for now, let’s just call it Heaven on Earth for writers. (Click Sofie's link -- her pictures are already up.) One weekend there was like hitting the reset button. A brief respite from real life was all I needed to rehydrate the scorched earth that had been June’s body of work. I came away from The Porches with nearly 10,000 fresh words, including an essay on June From Hell, and a shiny new story idea to take up in the near future.

I’m grateful for the escape from reality, but getting away doesn't matter as much if you're not running with the right people. My crew of Strumpets, there in the country and here in cyberspace, offers me a safe spot to renew my creative promises and reconnect to my creative energy. And so here, on the Fourth of July, at the one-year mark, I want to express my gratitude. I’m so happy to be with this group of awesome writers, and I’m thrilled to see where this process of growth and evolution takes us next.

As long as we’re not moving beyond the need for bare arms and manly firmness. That kind of progress leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth. (That's what she said.)

So what’s this year done for you? Let me know what’s up in the comments.

**Alexa Day usually shows up on the first Wednesday of the month, but her blog anniversary fell on a Thursday this month. That’s her story and she’s sticking to it. You can keep up with her on her blog, on Facebook or on Twitter. She thinks you should try Facebook, where her friendlessness reminds her of high school in the worst possible way. Her book, Illicit Impulse, is a Night Owl Reviews Top Pick. You’ll find it on sale at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other e-book retailers.

In Honor of Loving Day

As a wife and mother of three it amazes me that only 46 years ago, my family wouldn't have been legal! 

On June 12, Alexa Day and I participated in the Loving Day Blog Hop to celebrate the anniversary of the  Supreme Court decision, Loving v. Virginia, which invalidated laws that prohibited interracial marriage. 

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Why I write interracial romance

I read my first Harlequin when I was 11 years old-- and I was hooked. [Click here to read my blog post about my introduction to romance novels.] I'm not going to lie, those explicit love scenes were titillating. :-) But it wasn't long before I was swept away in the romance, the glamour, the relationships! I couldn't get enough. They sold boxes of Harlequin Presents at flea markets for $2.00 and before long, my room was full of every category trope you can imagine.

I carried a book with me everywhere, like an asthma inhaler or an EpiPen.

In school: instead of reading great lit-tra-chure, I was reading about the handsome boss and his plain jane secretary.

In church: I was thrilled when it was my turn to usher; my mom couldn't see what I was hiding in my hymnal!

At home: weekends were my favorite; nowhere to be and a book under my pillow.

But it didn't take long to notice that none of the heroines looked like  me. One of the cornerstones of a romance novel is when the hero first "sees" the heroine. Pages were spent rhapsodizing about the heroine's beauty; her long silken blond, or red, hair; her large blue, or green, eyes and her silky soft pale skin. Yeah, none of that described me. And to a girl of 12, it almost felt like women who looked like me weren't worthy of a love story.

That all changed as more and more books about relationships between African American men and women were made available and I could finally read stories where sexy powerful heroes found big brown eyes, full lips and smooth cocoa skin desirable. I even wrote my own novellas for my friends so they could have their own fictional HEAs.

But 18 years ago I met the love of my life... and he was white. When the time came for me to pursue a career in romantic fiction, there was no question about the type of stories I would write. I would write stories that reflected my love journey and experience. Stories where men who looked like my husband fell in love with women who looked like me. When you read a Tracey Livesay novel you'll find powerful men, smart women, drama, passion and excitement. The fact that the hero and heroine are different races is a beautiful bonus.

True Love... in black & white.

Connect with me on Facebook & Twitter!!!

Tracey Livesay's debut novel, The Billionaire's Socialite Bride, will be published by Entangled Publishing in January 2014.  She blogs here on the third Monday of every month. If you like the flavor she's bringing, you can check out her blog, Mimosas at Midnight or Like her Facebook page.

I Don't See Nothing Wrong with a Little PDA

Mark your calendar for June 20. It’s a Thursday. You’ll want to go out.

What’s the occasion? Well, it seems a whole holiday has been set aside for public displays of affection. June 20 is National PDA Day, and I know you’ll want to participate, even if you don’t really want to admit it.

No one wants to be the one to say that PDA is a good thing. That’s where I come in. I’m happy to step forward in favor of the PDA; it’s part of my bread and butter. Sure, keeping the private stuff super hot is important, but if I can’t make every touch count, even the public ones, I’ve got a problem.

The public display of affection is not only good, but it’s good for you. It’s necessary. Don’t worry. I’m not going to encourage you to get flagrant with a partner where all the world can see you. (I’m not going to stop you, either.) You don’t have to turn it all the way up to 11. If we call Level 1 a handshake and Level 2 is a nice hug, we’ll start at Level 3 by holding hands.

Hand holding. I think most of us stopped holding hands way too soon, for the same reason we stopped doing a lot of things: we were forced to endure the efforts of someone who wasn’t very good at it. Holding hands does not have to be a sweat-slick, hand-cramping marathon of awkwardness. With just a little effort, it can be wonderfully … effective. Start casually by bumping or brushing the back of your hand against your target’s hand. Follow up quickly, with intent, and twine your fingers together. And once you’re all set up, stroke your special friend’s thumb with yours. Keep things loose – that death grip is what makes the experience sweaty and gross. Ventilation matters!

Not-So-Casual Guidance. A good friend of mine, God love her, once had this complaint about dating. “What is this hand-on-the-back thing?” she asked. “I’m right behind the waitress! I know where we’re going!” I had to shake my head. The hand-on-the-back thing is like the hand-cupping-the-elbow thing and sort of like the hand-on-the-shoulder thing. It’s not about where you’re going. It’s about giving your date a reason to touch you. Personally, I prefer to wear something that leaves at least one of these target areas bare. Skin-to-skin contact builds oxytocin in both the toucher and the touchee (forgive my complex language there). Oxytocin’s the hormone that forms a nice emotional bond between the people touching each other. A little of that is a good thing, but for a deep bond, be prepared to get a little more touchy feely.

Getting to 11. I will never tell you that there is anything wrong with making out in public. My problem is with having to look at it. The public make-out session has much to recommend it – unusual setting, threat of discovery, pulse-pounding spontaneity – but public mores and, you know, the law are here to keep us from going all the way. Don’t fret. You can still manage a little workaround if you’re willing to try hard enough. Compromise a little by focusing more on those less obvious erogenous zones. Stroke that shadow zone beneath the shoulder blade. Trace that spinal column with your fingertips. Casually caress your sweetie’s knee – but only the knee. Keep up that repetitive, rhythmic motion, and you’ll be sure to start a fire! Better still, you can eliminate the public element by working with a backyard or a balcony or a parked car or maybe a fitting room. You’re still technically in public. The public just can’t see you as much. So far as I’m concerned, if I can’t see you, anything goes.

Can’t wait until the 20^th? I don’t blame you. You’ve got two weeks left before PDA Day! If you don’t have a partner, go find one! If you do have a partner, it’s time to practice! And in the meantime, why not have a look at my book, Illicit Impulse? It’s an exciting look at what can happen when oxytocin – and consequences – are removed from the delicate dance of skin-to-skin contact.

**Alexa Day brings a touch of sexy to your everyday world on the first Wednesday of every month. When she's not researching her monthly column, she's working on the follow-up to her first novel, ILLICIT IMPULSE, a Night Owl Reviews Top Pick which is now available wherever e-books are sold. In the meantime, you can catch up to her on Facebook, Twitter, or on her blog, although lately she only seems able to manage one of those three venues at a time.

Rites of Spring: It's the Time of the Season

Today’s post is just a little late in getting to you, but I promise I have a good reason. We’re in the best part of the spring right now (although I’m a little tired of having to wear a jacket in the morning), and I needed to recharge with a renewal ritual. People out there are putting up big money for fancy spa renewal rituals, but you don’t need any of that. You can indulge in your very own renewal ritual with very little preparation, just like I do every year.

The most important thing you need is solitude. I mention it first because for some of you, it will be hardest to come by. But the point of the ritual is to recharge your batteries and rebuild your stores of essential energy. You are not going to be able to do that if you’re dealing with other people.

Solitude doesn’t have to be difficult, though. You’ve really got two options. You can make sure no one bothers you by telling them not to bother you – and then backing it up by not rewarding them with your attention when they bother you. Or you can devise some way to remove others from the home by making some other location more attractive. Sending people to the movies is a good idea. Send them to a movie that starts roughly an hour after they leave the house. That should leave lots of time for what we’re doing here.

Once you’re alone, it’s time to run a bath. Even if your weather is actually appropriate for spring, I encourage warm water, since you’re going to be spending a good bit of time in there. While the water is running, hit it with your favorite bath additives. The Internet is rife – rife, I tell you! – with ideas for which fragrances will best suit your needs. I myself am hip deep in bath-related gifts. I will not need to purchase a bath additive for many years.

Make yourself a nice spa beverage. One of my favorites is from the Wynn in Las Vegas. Muddle a bit of cucumber with some lime juice in the bottom of your glass, add just a bit of simple syrup and then fill the glass with ginger ale. Depending on your ginger ale, you may not want the syrup. Alternately, a sliver of ginger muddled before the cucumber works if you substitute syrup and club soda for the ginger ale. The Wynn offers a cocktail version of this beverage, but I like the virgin edition. Brings back nice, hangover-free memories, and the cucumber makes it very refreshing.

Warm bath? Check. Solitude? Got it. Beverage? All ready. Now what?

Maybe nothing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with just hanging out in your hard-won bath. Enjoy, my friend.

If you don’t get solitude often, though, I suggest putting it to work for you. Meditate. If your mind wanders terribly during traditional meditation, try a working meditation with a beauty treatment. I keep a salt scrub on the edge of the tub for this very purpose. Rubbing a salt scrub into your skin forces you to concentrate on yourself. Focus on how it feels as it scrapes away everything old, leaving behind something fresh and new. Enjoy the scent. My favorite part is watching the salt melt away in the water. Be careful, though. Salt scrubs with oil leave the tub very slick!

Now that all is said and done, slowly rejoin the so-called real world as you towel off. Cap everything off with a nice, soothing lotion and maybe a fresh coat of polish on the old toenails. The nail polish is a sneaky trick, really. While it’s drying, your mobility is limited, so everyone will have to get it themselves for a while. (You're welcome.)

What are you all doing to renew? Let me know in the comments.

**Alexa Day brings a touch of sexy to your everyday world on the first Wednesday of every month. When she's not researching her monthly column, she's working on the follow-up to her first novel, ILLICIT IMPULSE, which is now available wherever e-books are sold. In the meantime, you can catch up to her on Facebook, Twitter, or on her blog, although lately she only seems able to manage one of those three venues.

Forget April Fool's Day; Try On Some April Fantasy!

I’m not big on April Fool’s Day. I want to believe that George Takei is in the next Star Wars movie. I would have gone for Google Nose. I’m not going for bacon-flavored mouthwash, but something that doesn’t make your life taste horrendous after you use it? Hey, that might be nice.

Not big on April Fool’s Day.

But I don’t mind a little fooling around, especially when it comes to fooling around. The occasional game of strip poker keeps things lively and delays gratification, both fine side effects. And then there are the old standbys, Truth or Dare and I Never. No matter how well two people know each other, those two games never fail to produce at least one surprise. One of my favorite exes taught me a question game, in which the players must ask each other one question, and only one question, per turn. Answering a question with a question, evasion, and follow-up questions are all fouls.

The spirit of April Fool’s demands more of us, I think. The holiday and the coming spring cry out for a full-blown game of make-believe. Remember playing make-believe?

Okay, put that from your mind. This game of make-believe is 100% grown up. You know what that means? You got it! Real costumes!

With just a touch of effort, you can become a real, live fantasy character. I’m going to start you off with three, but I’m sure you can turn up a few more. Let’s begin with something easy.

1.       **Law enforcement. I touched on this a few months ago for Halloween – all you need is the little handcuff-and-badge package from the toy section at Wal-Mart. Clip the badge to your belt loop on one side and hook the handcuffs to the other side. Check yourself out in the mirror. Are you undercover? Are you the good cop or the bad cop? Are you serving a warrant? Warrants are *fun.* Enjoy!

2.      **Your future in medicine. While you’re at the Wal-Mart, you can probably score some toy medical instruments for just a few bucks. I know you can get a full-size fake stethoscope from one of the party stores for just a few bucks. But think this over. I personally don’t think the doctor is all that hot, as far as fantasy figures go. Maybe it’s because I only see the doctor when I don’t feel all that sexy myself. Instead, I suggest investing in a nice set of scrubs. They don’t cost all that much, and they are the most comfortable garments ever made – like sweats for warm weather. You can get them at Wal-Mart, too. In scrubs, you can go from doctor to masseuse, and that takes you from tell-me-where-it-hurts to tell-me-how-to-make-you-feel-better. Get yourself a candle and some nice massage oil, and then you’re all ready to get therapeutic and such like.

3.       **How the West was wild! Few things are more powerful than the lure of the West. You can be part of that! All you need is a straw hat and a couple of bandanas. If it costs you more than ten bucks, I’d be surprised. Pair the hat and one bandana with your favorite jeans, and you’re ready for a bonfire or a little camping on the range – or a quick getaway after a good old-fashioned bank robbery. Why do you need a couple of bandanas? So you can tie someone up (gently, of course) and gag that person at the same time. Can’t have that person telling the sheriff, can we?

Okay, that should be enough to get you started. How you finish … well, that’s on you!

**Author of ILLICIT IMPULSE, Alexa Day brings a little sexy to your everyday world on the first Wednesday of the month, right here, Below the Fold. Can't wait a whole month? Catch up to her every Thursday on her blog, at Passionate Reads on the second Monday of the Month, on Facebook, or on Twitter. 

Nights in Leopard-Print Satin: Why You Should Have Satin Sheets

I had my hair done a couple of weeks ago, and to protect the style, I was forbidden to put it up at night the way I ordinarily would. A friend of mine asked how I was working around the restriction. I told her that I was using a satin pillowcase.

Her response suggested that maybe not everyone has a satin pillowcase. I don’t remember exactly what she said, but I was glad I hadn’t mentioned that the pillowcase was part of a satin sheet set. In fact, I used to have two satin sheet sets, but then I got a bigger bed and had to get rid of them.

Now I’ve just got the leopard-print set.

Okay, okay. I know what this sounds like. And I promise, I don’t live in the center of the Bob Guccione School of Interior Design. This really does look like a normal home, at least in the receiving areas to which invited guests are generally exposed. If you didn’t know it, you’d never guess that an erotica writer lives here.

So my suggestion, of course, is going to be that you should also have a set of satin sheets. Because seriously, why shouldn’t you?

They’re surprisingly inexpensive. You can get them at Wal-Mart and Overstock.com. You can even get them from Sears. Not that there’s anything wrong with Sears. It’s just that one does not expect to obtain satin sheets and power tools (like the hardware kind, silly) at the same place.

Don’t be put off by the leopard print, although those are pretty easy to find. You can score satin sheets in the same solid colors as the regular cotton kind. They’re also available in zebra print. Hmm.

But your question, I think, was about why you should have them. Beyond my standard response – why not? – I can offer you a couple of good reasons.

They are very cool to the touch in the summertime. After a whole day under the window unit at my place, the satin sheet set is a wonderful place to land.

There’s no better place for such an indulgence than the bedroom. They’re a sensual secret just for you. Having them tucked away inside your bedroom is a little bit like wearing the special occasion lingerie on a regular workday – because every day should be a special occasion.

They launder well. I think they’re easier to maintain than cotton. If you act fast, that spilled drop of wine won’t seep in. They dry with lightning speed in the regular dryer.

They’re almost friction free. That’s right. You’re going to slide on satin sheets like nobody’s business. It’s fun. Try it, and you’ll see.

At the very least, the satin pillowcase is good for your hair. I think you should go all the way and get the whole set. In for a penny, in for a leopard-print pound.

I’m celebrating my very first release day today! ILLICIT IMPULSE is available from Ellora’s Cave right now, as I write this. It's the story of a hot scientist, his best friend, her boy toy, and a very sexy experimental drug. Here's a little peek at where the trouble starts:

Grace met John's gaze. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

His skin heated again. What was wrong with him?

“I need you…to take the pills…”

She lifted a fine eyebrow. “And?”

“And then have sex…”

She grinned then, her teeth very white against the burgundy of her lipstick. “With Tal. Right?”

He shrugged. That was, of course, who he’d had in mind. But what he needed already defied the fundamental tenets of scientific research. He definitely wasn’t going to go further out of bounds by telling her who to have sex with.

Grace chuckled, a throaty sound that might have been genuine amusement or something a bit less pleasant. “John, I hope you’re not thinking I’ll take these and then my eyes will be opened and I’ll see Tal doesn’t want to be in a relationship.” She put the pills back on the table next to her glass. “I mean, I know you have some kind of issue with him.”

“Issue” didn’t begin to cover it. Tal only saw her at his place, and only at night. After two years, she’d never mentioned meeting his family or going away for the weekend or celebrating an anniversary. Never mentioned flowers or Christmas gifts. So far as John knew, Tal never even took her to dinner. As happy as Grace said she was, John knew she deserved more than what she had.

“Grace, I’m not trying to pull anything. I need someone who’s not in a relationship. I need someone who’s willing to tell me everything. I even need Tal.” He hated the way that felt in his mouth. “Look, I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s no secret. And if these pills make you see things a little differently, then so much the better. But I really just need your help.”

“Good. Because I know Tal doesn’t want a girlfriend. So we’re all on the same page.”

John nodded, lifting both hands in surrender. “Right. I get it.”

“Okay.” Grace pursed her full lips. “If I do this, what would happen after the sex?”

John swallowed, hoping she didn’t sense the sudden rush of discomfort that seemed so painfully obvious to him. “Then you report back.” He cleared his throat. “To me.”

A mischievous giggle bubbled out of her. “You want me to have sex with Tal and then come back and tell you about it.” Coming from her mouth, the idea sounded ridiculous. “I presume you would need this to happen more than once.”

“Well…there are eight pills in a pack.”

Grace picked up the blister pack again and stared at it in silence. As John scrambled to scrape up the last of his persuasive powers, she said, “Deal.”

The tension that had been crushing him released its grip. She’d do it. “Oh, Grace. I owe you big time.”

She tucked the pills into her purse and laughed. “I have a feeling the pleasure’s going to be all mine. Just don’t be too disappointed if nothing changes between me and Tal,” she said. “And don’t be too shocked when you hear about what we do together.”

**On the first Wednesday of the month, Alexa Day brings a little sexy to your everyday world! Pop by her blog at http://alexaday.net, follow her on Twitter, or catch up to her on Facebook. She'd love to see you!

Open Letter to Boyfriends and Husbands Who Believe Valentine's Day Is Unnecessary

Gentlemen:

As I write this, about one week separates us from Valentine’s Day. I don’t think any other holiday inspires such a wide range of emotional responses. By now, I suspect most of us have made our plans for the holiday, to go out or stay in, to be alone or with friends or with that one special person.

But some of you have made it a point not to have plans. You say you don’t have to do anything because you love your significant others every day, 365 days a year. Valentine’s Day is just a greeting card holiday, you say.

Well, that’s an excuse. I’m sorry. I have to call you on that.

Maybe this is a greeting card holiday. But you know what? So is your birthday.

I bet your honey did something for your birthday. I don’t think she bragged about how it wasn’t necessary to do anything because you wake up breathing 365 days a year. She didn’t smugly assert that she acknowledges your continued existence every day and have no reason to treat your birthday any differently.

In fact, I bet people who are not as close to you, like your coworkers, did something for your birthday. I imagine a lot of people went to a little trouble to acknowledge your own personal greeting card holiday because you matter to them in some small way.

But you want to take your relationship with your sweetheart for granted. After all, you’re in the relationship now. She’s not going anywhere, right?

To get to this 365-day-a-year, don’t-have-to-celebrate relationship, your sweetheart’s been through a lot. She is probably never going to say this to you, but I think you have to hear it. At some point before you decided you didn’t have to acknowledge your relationship on the one special day set aside for it, your sweetheart did at least one, and probably more than one, of the following things.

1.       Considered quitting the whole dating process out of sheer frustration and exhaustion.

2.       Smiled when everything in her wanted to cry.

3.       Was told she should change some part of herself – maybe a part you love all year but refuse to celebrate today – so that she could be in a relationship.

4.       Wore something ridiculous, painful, or both.

5.       Blamed herself for someone else’s shoddy behavior.

6.       Let go of something she wanted very much.

7.       Had her boundaries violated.

8.       Stayed with someone worse than you because she doubted you were coming along.

9.       Chose to live with the certainty that she’d always be alone.

10.   Accepted something about you that really, really annoys her.

But then you came along. She chose you. She finds so much pleasure in every day with you that she may not even remember how many of those ten things she did. Being with you is a gamechanger.

And to acknowledge this, you want to do nothing.

Well, that’s not good enough.

I’m not saying you have to engage in any great spectacle. Use one of the greeting cards you sneer at and write a note. Read to each other. Sit at the bar – no reservations required – and share a dessert.

But do something.

This isn’t just another day. Your sweetheart’s not just some girl. And you should celebrate that because you love her 365 days a year.

Get to planning.

All the best,

Alexa

**Alexa Day wants to bring a little sexy into your everyday world. Her column appears here on the first Wednesday of the month. She blogs on her own website every Thursday, and her first novel, Illicit Impulse, is available March 1 from Ellora’s Cave.

You, Too, Could Live Like an Erotica Writer

Just recently, I sold my first book, ILLICIT IMPULSE, to Ellora's Cave. My friends took me out to celebrate last weekend, and over drinks and dinner (in that order), I came to realize that they apparently think I lead some sort of glamorous life. Not like a celebrity – my friends have all seen what I drive – but I see the way their eyes light up when I mention research, and I hate to disappoint them by saying that I was reading about neurochemistry. There's no little gaggle of men following me around. I keep a hangover remedy in my refrigerator. I clean the litterboxes every morning. My life's pretty average, I thought.

Having said that, though, I did have this argument with myself between sips of champagne. That actually is kind of glamorous.

But we can all be glamorous like that. We just have to ask ourselves one question. We have to start doing it right now, while we are surrounded by people who are dedicating themselves to living more monastic lives this year.

We have to ask ourselves, "Why not?"

Let's take the champagne, for instance. I'm lucky to have such awesome friends to take me places where the champagne flows freely. Champagne is out there every day, though. It's not just for New Year's Eve or Sunday morning mimosas. Couldn't we be exchanging toasts on Thursday night?

Why not?

And what about dessert? I savor every bite of every dessert as if it's the last thing I'm ever going to taste. I've also been known to take myself out to restaurants just for dessert. That's not an everyday thing, but I do love taking up position at the bar for a cup of coffee and a warm slice of apple pie. It keeps my senses sharp, which is important for an erotica writer, but for the most part, it's just an indulgence.

Why not?

I should mention the research.

I almost hate to demystify what erotica research is for me, especially so soon after Santa Claus. But the ugly truth is that my research almost never requires physical contact with another human being. I mentioned the neuroscience earlier; I had to learn about oxytocin and pharmaceutical development to write ILLICIT IMPULSE. I thought it was fascinating, but it's not terribly glamorous. For the next book, research was reading the Safety Rules and Regulations sign at the batting cage to see whether it specifically prohibits having two people in there at once. Not fancy stuff.

Then there was the Discovery Flight.

I'm planning another story in which the hero and heroine were on a single-engine plane. At the time, I had never been on a single-engine plane, and it was important enough to the story that I needed to know what the experience was like. So I reached out to a flight school and explained my situation, hoping to see how big the plane was, how close my hero and heroine would be to each other, what they would be able to take with them. The flight instructor offered me a Discovery Flight. For a very reasonable fee, he said, I could go up in the plane with him. Then I'd really know what it was like.

Why not?

(I could write for hours about what the Discovery Flight is like, but you don't have that sort of time, so I'll leave you with a quote from the flight instructor. "Go ahead and take off. Try to keep it in the middle of the runway.")

Maybe this is glamorous. Champagne toasts, indulgent desserts, exciting research – it is a good life. But it's not reserved for erotica writers. Celebrate something (like a Wednesday) with champagne. Take yourself out for a luxuriant restaurant dessert because you like the way it tastes. Learn something outside your comfort zone. Now's the time – most people are going to be waiting in line for the machines at the gym.

Go for it. Why not?

**Alexa Day is hard at work on her second book, the follow-up to ILLICIT IMPULSE, but she's got space in her schedule for the occasional random dessert. You can catch her right here on the first Wednesday of the month (or the year!) for ways to make every day a little sexier. She also blogs every Thursday on her website, www.alexaday.net.

Single for the Holidays? Five Very Merry Advantages

Today I'm writing for my single friends. By single, I mean unattached. If you are in a relationship of any kind, including but not limited to marriage, you are not single for the purposes of this discussion.

I'm going to take the gloves off and tell you the hard truth.

This is not an easy time to be single. No one wants to hear this, and lots of well-meaning people want to shovel sunshine over it. I think you deserve the truth. The holidays basically force single people to spend long periods of time surrounded by family who wonder why they are still single (and have no problem asking over the dinner table), by couples at their coupled-up best, and by the newly engaged. The holidays force single people to confront both mistletoe and New Year's Eve.

It's not easy, and I think anyone who says otherwise probably has some other lovely platitudes to offer single people. Coupled people, take notice. Single folks do not want to hear that they deserve better, that it is that other person's loss, or that someday somewhere somehow, someone will come along.

(A good coupled friend once asked me what a single person in breakup distress did want to hear. The answer is nothing. Single people want you to listen.)

I'm digressing. This is not going to be a diatribe about what a bummer the holidays are. This is my world – Below the Fold! I'm going to tell you single folks how to make the holidays sexy.

Let us count the ways.

1.       You do not have to do anything. The vast majority of coupled people spend a significant part of the holiday season fulfilling the obligations created by their partners. Some of them don't mind doing that. Some of them are just saying they don't mind. You don't have to go to a partner's work party, family gathering or anything else that person is required to do for some reason or another. You also don't have to buy presents for those folks. The next time you feel holiday blues descending, just remember the things you don't have to do. Those people who just started going out a few weeks ago are in an awkward spot right now.

2.       You can choose to do anything. You could go to some holiday singles events, if that's your thing, but that's not really what I'm talking about. Seek out an artistic endeavor. Try a day seminar in digital photography. How about nude figure drawing? Oh, yes, it's real! My bartending school had a sample class in December – that entertaining lark turned into a job. Dance lessons abound – group lessons where you'll have lots of partners and a New Year's Eve party, and lessons that will help you find the single goddess inside you, like belly dancing, burlesque, and striptease. There's still time for a solo trip to the location of your choice, if you check into last-minute travel opportunities. Being single, at its best, is about being spontaneous, and spontaneity is sexy!

3.       Enjoy your solitude. Take yourself on a sensual tour. Wherever you are, you're surrounded by lights and decorations and scents and sounds that will all disappear in about a month. Get out into the cold air. Listen to the holiday noise – my favorite sound of the season is the Salvation Army bell, and I only get it for another few weeks. Look at the faces of people going by. The bell ringer's smile when I put change in his kettle. A shopper's delight when she's found exactly the right gift. Friends sharing a laugh over drinks. Check out the Santa at the center of the mall, and really consider – that's a real person there, listening to a child's guileless recitation of what he wants. The child takes this for granted – where else would Santa be? Isn't it more magical for you, knowing what you know? There's real purity and magic in this time of year. Slow down and enjoy it.

4.       Indulge yourself. Buy yourself something. Jewelry. A book. A flashy, sexy outfit. A massage. Coupled folks often have trouble finding the time or the resources to do something purely selfish, but I'll let you in on a secret. Most of them secretly long for the luxury of selfishness. Try not to rub their noses in it.

5.       If you're legal, have a drink. At a bar. Sit there with something nice and warm (I'll have some suggestions next week on my blog) and make nice with the bartender (that's on my blog right now). It's easy to make merry with a bartender as your ally!

The holidays are finite, and once they're over, I think you're going to miss them. In the meantime, remember your friends, even the coupled-up ones, and share some of that good fortune with them when you find a moment.

**Alexa Day loves this time of year but hopes one year to actually make some sort of a schedule/plan for it. When she's not enjoying the luxury of selfishness, she spends the holidays volunteering with homeless animals or reading a nice, hot interracial romance novel. Check her out at http://alexaday.net for more everyday sexy!

Is It All Downhill From Here? NaNoRoundup, Part Two

It's the middle of the month!

Well, it's close to the middle. That counts as the middle.

This weekend, we're checking in with our respective NaNoStatuses. Let's see how everyone's doing.

Alexa Day (JezBibi) is finishing 11/15 with 11,980 words. She had a slow start with a submission (and a synopsis -- who knew a synopsis went with it?), but if she can keep up 2400 words daily, she'll still finish this month. She's already finished one of the short stories in this year's NaNoProject -- the one about the heroine addressing her husband's complaint that she never wears anything he gives her. Another story, about a house party, is nearly done, and a third story is threatening to go novella on her. She's got a good feeling about this year.

Sofie Couch has come up on 11/16 with 23,066 words! Last night, she didn't meet her daily quota because a silly ol' BREAKING DAWN 2 premiere got in the way... and tonight another movie date is getting in the way... and tomorrow, a booksigning in Ashland, VA is getting in the way... and Sunday... Yeah, yeah, yeah. There are no valid excuses. Crack! She's on it!

Leah St. James would be embarrassed to admit that her total word count is in the neighborhood of  a measly 10% of our fearless leader's (Sofie Couch's) phenomenal word output, except that having raising two boys to adulthood (or thereabouts), she's beyond embarrassment. Truth be told, she's so UNcompetitive by nature, she half suspects that her lack of NaNo productivity is self-induced. She's still in it though, for as many words as she can spit out over the next 15 days. (Hey,do blogs count?!) :-)

Tracey Livesay started out really strong, exceeding her daily totals and sailing through the first 10 days of Nano with 15,163 words. Then she got the stomach flu, which she promptly passed on to every member of her family. Not much writing during that time. She still hopes to finish strong! ;-)

Tina Glasneck has fallen behind her goal, and although there could be many excuses for that- they don't count! HA! After pushing through and accomplishing over 5000 words in one day, things sort of got complicated (as life always does during the month of November). Yet, she continues to push forward one word at a time, still striving onward to reach her goal. Continue to cheer her on and know that she is really trying to finish the damn book! :)

Grateful for the Big Stuff ... and It's All Big Stuff

Years ago, I met a woman who told me what her little boy taught her about gratitude.

It was right around this time of year, just before Thanksgiving, when she asked her son what he was grateful for. Her little boy frowned thoughtfully and was silent for several seconds. She was sure he was about to come up with a heartwarming sentiment worthy of a greeting card, the sort of "right answer" parents expect to hear from small children.

Instead, he said, "Pizza."

It would have been very easy, the mother told me, to correct her son and go for the "appropriate" response. Home or family or health or something like that. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she was also thankful for pizza.

And why not? It's tasty. It's widely available. Good for sharing, leftovers, and beer. It prevents cooking.

I'm grateful for pizza, too. Sure, I'm grateful for freedom and health and employment and all that, too. But that does not make gratitude for pizza wrong. I am actually grateful for pizza more often than I am for large-ticket items because I enjoy pizza in such a finite way. That first bite of the first slice. The cheese, the mushrooms, maybe an anchovy. The firm crust. And then, once it's over, those last few minutes with the beer, thinking of how wonderful the whole experience was.

Yeah. I'm glad we have pizza. But the world's full of those little things that make life special. In fact, I think gratitude makes everything – the little things and the big ones – equally significant. We don't have to look far to find something that inspires gratitude. We just have to look.

I may have mentioned several times that I was at Romanticon last month, surrounded by hot shirtless men. That by itself is something to be grateful for. The Cavemen tend to travel in small groups, a habit that occasionally results in a lucky woman (like myself) sharing an elevator with four or five of them.

I had been on the elevator first, so I found myself in the rear corner. The guys were unusually quiet. They're typically gregarious and chatty in a way that brings even a dyed-in-the-wool nerd like me out of her shell. But that day, they were all watching the numbers counting down as we descended.

At least I think that's what they were looking at. I was too busy staring at them with an impunity I could not have enjoyed if they were talking to me. I studied all those powerful shoulders and long fingers and nice, big hands. I struggled mentally to describe the way they held themselves. I wondered if they could tell I was staring at them.

And then it was over. The doors opened in the lobby, and they all headed off together, to wherever they were going. I had to stand there for a minute, in the way, trying to remember where I was going.

I decided that I was grateful for this job, with its exotic destinations and elevators full of hot shirtless men. Grateful just for elevators, and how small and slow they are. Grateful for that quiet spot in the rear corner. I would even have been grateful if, heaven forbid, that particular elevator had stopped working altogether.

That's right. If I had been trapped in an elevator full of hot shirtless men, I would have found the silver lining. I'm an optimist like that.

Now, as sexy as my day-to-day life is, I am sorry to say that it is not THAT sexy every day. Yet. Even so, I'm grateful for the little sensual delights each day has to offer. A perfectly cooked meal. A good book and the free time to enjoy reading it. A friendly wave from the FedEx man, who seems to have no idea that he's gorgeous. Pizza.

What are you grateful for?

**Alexa Day is grateful for any number of things this month, including her completion and submission of her first manuscript, Project NSA. She's not sure what she'll do once NaNoWriMo is over, but you can check her out here, Below the Fold, on the first Wednesday of the month, and on her own blog every Thursday.