Long ago in a galaxy far, far away…
Aside from that true story about a crazy phone call and overly vivid imaginations-The Smutketeers blog was started with the simplest of reasons and the best of intentions.
1. Of course, when like minded authors of steamy and/or erotic and/or OMG I can’t believe they used rope like that romance find each other in a sea of mainstreaming “fade out before the good part” prudes, they form protective smutty circles-as bikers at a church picnic are prone to do. *wink*
2. Usually, at least six hands are better than one (I know there’s a dirty orgy joke in there somewhere)
3. There’s always that plan about world domination…
But The Smutketeers was more than that from the start.This site, our yahoo group etc, has always been about friendship, about sharing. About the sheer joy and humor, love and acceptance we’ve found in this slightly off beat and a bit off color community.
The motto of The Smutketeers: All For Smut and Smut For All! has never been just about us. It’s about our readers, the Smutkedettes, who are as much a part of our blog as we are (so much so many of them even end up in our books). And it is about all our fellow authors–whatever genre they choose. Here we celebrate love in all its forms-innocent to bawdy. And we have fun doing it.
Hopefully, we’ve made a comfortable place that people like coming back to (especially for the 12 Smutty Days of Xmas and our special Paloozas)
So, in keeping with that tradition of friendship and smut, I couldn’t be more excited to welcome one of my oldest writing partners in crime-the other critique partner-my personal diamond/dirty farm wife/alien tamer Robin L. Rotham-as another Smutketeer!!!
Name: Robin L. Rotham
Age: 28 (okay, that’s how old I feel, and I’ve always felt that age, even when I was a kid)
Occupation: Smut writer forever
Zodiac sign: Scorpio (be afraid)
Sexual orientation: Very
Yes, I think about sex a lot. I know, I know—Duh, you’re a smut writer, Robin. Mistress of the obvious and all that. But this is something that would surprise the hell out of a lot of people in my daily life. I’m pretty sure most of them believe I’ve only thought about sex four times—on my wedding night and on the nights my kids were conceived.
And the thing is, relatively speaking, I’m pathetically wholesome. *Lies!*
I swore off cigarettes at the tender age of seven, right after I smoked my first one in the driver’s seat of my mother’s car. With my little sister. In the dark of a balmy Oklahoma summer night. With Mom’s permission. I didn’t even inhale, but her ploy worked—I never wanted to touch another one. My sister, OTOH… Well, that’s a tale best saved for another day.
I swore off illegal drugs when I was three, after one of my mom’s friends laced my milk with mescaline. (Mom says I enjoyed the trip but I never wanted to go there again.)
With the exception of the schnapps-laced hot chocolate Mom served me when I was ten (yeah, I got all my substance abuse issues out of the way early) and freezing my ass off in the Colorado Rockies, I never drank alcohol until I was around 25. To this day, I’ve never been drunk. *We might have to take that challenge at the next RT*
Can you say control issues?
But the real kicker is that I’ve never kissed any man—anyone—except my husband, and that didn’t happen for the first time until I was 32. So of course it stands to reason that I’ve never had sex with anyone else.
Disgusting, isn’t it? To look at me, you’d think I was raised in a mountainside convent along with Maria the Problematic Postulant, playing my guitar and singing inspirational songs to goats and small children. *How do you solve a problem like our Rooobiin?*
But I’ve always had a dirty mind. Always. I started writing sex scenes before I started reading them—I read Victoria Holt and Phyllis A. Whitney in junior high school and was frustrated at how vague their love scenes were, so I tried writing my own gothic paranormal romance. Even at fourteen I was kinky—my heroine was an eighteen-year-old governess and my hero was the sixteen-year-old young master of the house (never mind that in reality, he’d probably have been off at some exclusive school), and he gave her an orgasm via astral projection. I might have to try to write that again someday. *I will be here to remind you about it. There’s no sex like astral sex.*
Then at sixteen, I read Rosemary Rogers’ The Insiders, and though it was un-PC as hell and the hero was an unmitigated asshat, that book absolutely set my erotic imagination on fire. If you want to know where I got my love of badly fucked up heroes, read it—my heroes are all princes compared to Brant Newcomb. He’s the standard of asshattery against which I measure all hero behavior. As long as mine don’t sink to his level, they’re good to go.
So why am I telling you all this? Because appearances can be deceiving, and if you’ve ever met me, you know I look every inch the sweet, wholesome farm wife. But don’t be fooled—I’ve got a heart of dirt and I’m not afraid to write from it.
Embrace the smut! *I’m in love with you*
(Don’t you love her too?! But despite her protestations I am STILL the innocent one)
Let’s find out a little bit more about our new Smutketeer from an unimpeachable source. Me.
She’s brilliant and sassy, open minded and ready for anything. And I do mean anything. *whispers* Have you read her alien books?
She’s kind of a super woman. Mother/wife/writer/cp/Passionate Ink board member/Romance Diva and now…yep. Smutketeer. She must live on a planet that has 40 hour days *whispers* If that planet is inhabited by her sexy alien heroes I want to move there.
Look at her boots. Those boots give us all kinds of clues. Naughty? Check. Intimidatingly sexy? Check. As my red pen and whip cracker in chief, she has personally fought the good fight to rid me of all my misplaced modifiers (that war is not over yet lol) I mentioned she was sassy, but she’s also bluntly honest, loyal, honorable, and someone I would trust with my life, my books and even my husband the Cookie-who kind of has a crush on her btw.
They also say, “Behind my super woman dirty farm wife facade, I am way kinkier than you will ever know…unless you read all of my books.” ;)
Speaking of her books-here is the sequel to her bestselling erotic romance Alien Overnight
The last time Jasmine King was aboard the Heptoral, she escaped by the skin of her teeth. This time she won’t be so lucky. Trapped on a ship full of sex-starved aliens and out of the pheromone blocker that holds off her physical transition, Jasmine makes a desperate escape attempt…and fails. The consequences are disastrous—she’s mated to three horny warriors, and one has a huge bone to pick with her. What’s a girl to do but fall in love?
The last time Shauss saw Jasmine, the deceitful little Terran stole his bondmate from under his nose. This time he won’t be so trusting. Finally master of his own bond, Shauss names secondary mates Jasmine feels safe with…and lives to regret it. One can’t stop puking long enough to claim her. The other challenges Shauss’ supremacy by digging into his psyche at every turn. What’s a Dom to do but f*%@ them all into submission? He sets out to do just that, but his domination takes a brutal turn when he discovers Jasmine’s deadly secret.
And the second book in her Carnal (and I’m not kidding…it is CARNAL) series after Carnal Harvest
When you’re down on the farm, things are bound to get dirty!
Joe Remke has just one qualification for his lovers—he wants them gone before sunrise, which makes his new bunkmate AJ about as safe as a woman can be around him. It also makes his determination to sleep with his boss downright stupid, because if Brent ever gives in, he’ll be looking for a new job.
Ladies’ man Brent Andersen knows sex with his right-hand man Joe is inevitable, but he’s not going down without a fight. Putting the new female hired hand in their cramped RV was a stroke of genius, taking the heat off him while protecting her from the horny guys on his custom farming crew.
AJ Pender’s hard-bodied roomies may hide their feelings for each other from the rest of the crew, but they aren’t fooling her—Brent and Joe are hot for each other, and it’s all she can do not to cry at the thought. If they ever found out she fantasizes about being the meat in their farmer sandwich, they’d probably die laughing.
Fortunately for Brent and Joe, fantasies have a way of revealing themselves and AJ’s are right up their alley. But even threesomes have their risks, and AJ can serve as a buffer for only so long before the tension between them explodes.
Warning: Flying BOBs ahead—and that’s just the warm-up! Strap yourself in for a wild ride complete with ménage, m/m, and a voyeuristic f/f scene hot enough to make three grown men beg for mercy.
Robin is giving away your choice of digital or a signed print copy of Alien Overnight (Or Enemy Overnight if you’ve read the first one) and Carnal Compromise, as well as a $20 Amazon or B&N gift certificate to TWO winners! Post here and let us know that you’ve…
A. liked her on FB at facebook.com/RobinRotham
B. followed her on Twitter @robinlrotham
and C. Give Robin a warm Smutketeer welcome!
Winners will be chosen Monday evening…right before Eden/Eve’s exciting much anticipated new release contest! (I know, I know. Busy week. But exciting, yes?)
ALL FOR SMUT AND SMUT FOR ALL!