Toys for Tarts: Road Rage
I attended a writing conference last Spring at Asilomar, the beautiful conference ground designed by famed architect, Julia Morgan. We’d had long walks on the beach, brainstorming sessions with other romance writers and craft classes taught by Margie Lawson.
During one of the lunch breaks, we somehow got on the subject of sex toys—vibrators, to be exact. Okay, I’ll admit, I had just published The Stimulus Package, under my erotic pen name, Angela Love. Someone asked me about it, and that set the ball in motion. Ask me about my writing and then expect me to shut up? No way. It started to bend the conversation in a very naughty direction. But hey, we were there to have fun, even if a couple of ladies at our table blushed and could hardly speak.
I’m sure the rest of the two hundred or so attendees were wondering what all the laughing was about. We told stories of things that had gone wrong, what kinds of toys we had bought and how they had been misused. One of my friends told the story about her friend, who was a sex toy sales rep, who happened to use a large purple vibrator in traffic.
This isn’t what you think. She was pleasuring herself, but not in the usual way. She extended it through the sunroof of her car at some guy who had been tailgating her for miles.
I asked for and received permission to use this idea for my third in the series, Toys for Tarts, Book 3, Road Rage. So, while this is based on a real incident, the story is entirely mine.
I like reading humorous sexual escapades because it imitates life. Not everything is the old bump and grind. Things that spice up a relationship between two consenting adults can sometimes be funny. They might even be more memorable.
I’m working on Book 4 now: Occupy Me. My lips are sealed until I get this puppy put to bed. But I am having fun with these light reads—sweet treats for me, and so fun to write.
Here’s an excerpt from Road Rage. The Teri Stanton has just left an office party and escaped an embarrassing incident with the boss’s son, Tim Benson. Her lustful thoughts about him have kept her in this low-paying job longer than she intended. So she has taken a part-time job as a sex education instructor for ESL students on path toward citizenship. She’s about to teach her last class of the semester.
Excerpt, Road Rage:
I checked my watch again. I had just enough time to drop by the Health Care office before my class, to pick up the lesson plan. Tim was absorbing energy from the room of clucking hens, so I made my exit.
Sandy Morgen was the Director of the Health Education program for the county. I breezed in, sure my cheeks still hadn’t deflamed. I was shameless. It didn’t matter one whit.
“Hi Sandy, sorry to be a little late. We had a shower at the office.”
“Oh? Who did you shower with?” She smiled like a pampered palace cat, batting her green eyes.
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