So, I told Mad Madam M last night that I’m thinking about trying my hand at some risque short stories. (Under a different name, of course) I assured her that she did not have to read these stories and that I understood her never wanting to read a story with uber-graphic sex scenes written by her best friend. Disturbing, much? (At least it doesn’t have farm animals!) I also told her these weren’t her kind of stories anyway. Futuristic and nary a kilt-wearing man in sight. Basically, everything she doesn’t want in a romance. That’s fine–that’s why there are 80 different romance sub-genres. (We all win!) Then I thought about throwing a kilt-wearing man into my futuristic, just to mess with her. (I am such a good friend! Hey, don’t forget the vampire-mermaid-pigs-in-space!) Mwah-ha-ha-ha!
