Rome, Italy. Circa late 80s.
Me with my teased-up hair and parachute pants; Fiammetta, my striking and nihilistic Italian blonde Sophia Loren lookalike friend; Bronnie, the Brooklyn-bred wildchild who speaks not a word of Italian; and Santino, a lithe and sexy Argentinean man — striding through the cobbled streets of Rome.
It’s that liminal time when the dark sky begins to lighten, early risers hurry to work in their elegantly cut suits — and after all-night dancing and adventuring — we stumble toward a pasticceria, the scent of fresh-baked cornetti luring us toward an open back door. Yellow light spills onto the shadowed street. We stand close and warm, we four, jostle each other, hug and tease. We buy the Italian version of croissants and devour them in the street, the dawn light dusting our smooth faces.
We are young. We are energy. We are lust.
I stand next to Santino, long for his touch. He gazes at Fiammetta and I feel a pang. She’s sucks on a cigarette. The smoke curls sensually around her movie star face, sex lifts off her like steam — while high-strung bombshell Bronnie drifts off around the corner, never able to stand still for longer than a few seconds.
“Che belllissima, Fiammetta,” I say. How beautiful, Fiammetta. No matter I have a crush on Santino. It is fitting my friend wins.
Santino nods his head. “Si.” He says. Then waves his hand dismissively, his handsome face wrinkling in distaste. “Pero, e sfoccata.” Yes. But…
I stumble on the word. I’m still learning Italian.
“Che cosa?”
“No focus,” he says. “No…” Gestures with his slender hands in that magical Roman air. Makes a lumpy shape. Points, then, at Fiametta’s ankles, bare and olive-toned. Thick ankles. I notice then. I never had before. And when I glance again at Fiammetta, my Roman idol, guide and sharp-witted chainsmoking goddess — who slings her cigarette against the ochre-colored wall with careless abandon — she’s still radiant, her cheekbones cutting through that soft air — but the word “sfocatta” wreathes through my mind, echoes — as it still does, these many years later.
Sfocata. Out of focus.
What’s this got to do with SuperSex Sunday? With your writing muse? With your entrepreneurial adventure and erotic core?
Plenty.
We women are used to being sized up. Numbered. Judged. What does it do to the erotic core?
Men, too, experience this same criticism in our hyper-visual, media-saturated world.
And each time we dole it out, or take these barbs in — we lose a little bit of our power, a little bit of our lustre. We give pieces of ourselves away.
Our voice recedes, our spirit weakens. And our writing loses strength.
Time to reclaim our erotic core.
Thus, a new offering is born! This month, join me and my co-host, author and blogger extraordinaire Justine Musk, for an intimate One-Day Erotica Workshop. This first time, it’s women only.
We declare Sunday, February 17th, A DAY OF DECADENCE. Special guest speakers. Aphrodisiacal eats, libations. A chance to explore sensuality and sexuality — real and fantasy — on the page. Expand and explore. Have you always wanted to step up the steaminess in your writing, but didn’t know how? Or maybe you just want a day to explore, luxuriate, and play. Let me and other creative leaders inspire you to creatively access the potent, erotic core of you. What better way to usher in the month of love, sex, romance and relationship? You’ll join us at a lovely private home on the Westside. Safe environment to unleash. Juicy adds and bonuses coming at you.
First TWO get a FREE 10-PAGE MANUSCRIPT EVAL! Send me a stale, flat love scene and I’ll help you fire it up. This price disappears come Monday and goes up. For fast action takers only. Limited enrollment. Grab your spot now.
I also call this Erotica for Entrepreneurs. If you’re an entrepreneur (and honestly, we artists are all entrepreneurs!):
Are you struggling to seduce new clients?
Are you challenged with conveying warmth for better connection & conversion?
Have you always wanted to step up the juiciness in you writing, but didn’t know how?
Or maybe you just want a day to explore, luxuriate, and play.
All are welcome.
Don’t be bashful. I never set out to write erotica myself. A friend edited erotica anthos and asked me to submit(!) I showed her a piece. She said this is great. Now add the sex. I did. And my writing — and life — radically changed, and ripened. Try it. If I can do it, anyone can. There’s a way to write hot and still make it work in stories. Come learn the tips, tricks and techniques to either spice up your own writing — or try your hand at erotica. You can even choose an alter ego, or nom de plume for the adventure.
Course what it really gets at — is the primal core. How we give and receive love. That’s what makes the creative adventure so multi-layered and meaningful…as well as fun!
If you’re a guy, this would make a helluva cool Valentine’s Day gift. People are all about experiences these days, not objects.
So maybe rethink the tired tropes of chocolate, flowers, trinkets. Also, if we get enough interest, we’ll run one in the future for men and women, or men only! I’m already speaking with my friend, the relationship guru Adam Gilad (and fellow Topangan) about this offering.
Please feel free to e-mail me here or post your comments, and let me know what you think about our offering. Any questions.
I’m feeling a lotta love this month. In related news, we’ve just finished recording the Audible.com version of my last book, Love Junkie: A Memoir for an audiobook. Looks like it’s set for a Valentine’s Day release! So lots more to come this month. Stay tuned for other offerings. Blog posts. Teleseminars. Webinars. It’s a great opportunity to reach out to experts in this field of love, sex, romance and relationship.
Thank you again for being part of our Writers On Fire community. Please comment below and tell us a story about how you lost touch with your erotic core, and regained it! Or maybe tell us why erotica excites — or scares you. Can’t wait to hear your stories.
‘Til soon.
Yrs in truth,
Rachel
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