Guest Blog (Maureen Fisher at Cynthia Woolf)
Born inScotland, Maureen emigrated to Canada at the tender age of seven. After graduating from university, she convinced the federal government to hire a Fine Arts specialist as a computer programmer. Three years later, Maureen graduated again, this time to full-time homemaker and mom, raising two wonderful sons. Plunging back into the business world, she and her second husband started a management consulting company. This marriage survived because she and her husband pledged never to work on the same project again. Ever.
After a century in the consulting world, Maureen grew weary of wearing snappy power suits, squeezing into panty hose, and fighting rush hour traffic. With the help of an energy healer, she made a life-changing decision. She would write books. Not dry, boring, technical treatises, but fresh, funny romantic suspense novels. Maureen is now the author of two sassy romance novels, with a third undergoing the painful gestation process.
A ‘How-To’ for Cranking up Your Romance Quotient (Success Guaranteed)
Thank you so much for having me on your blog today, Cindy! In honor of Valentine’s Day, this blog entry is my gift to all women who wish to crank up the romance quotient in their relationships. At the risk of sounding immodest, the advice I’m about to impart today is so simple, yet so brilliant, I expect to be awarded a significant humanitarian award. Like the Nobel Peace Prize. Or the Order of Canada. Or the coveted Above-and-Below-the-Sheets Romance Upgrade Award.
Seriously!
At this very moment, throngs of men are in a state of panic, not to mention despair, having left their purchase of a Valentine’s Day gift until the last possible moment. We don’t know what causes this unspeakable madness. Performance anxiety? Selective amnesia? An expectation that someone will cancel Valentine’s Day and he’ll be off the hook this year? Reasons abound. They vary from man to man, and they are irrelevant. But I digress. Whatever the cause, I’ve seen many a dude, his eyes glinting with desperation, manly brow beaded with driblets of sweat, scouring jewelery stores, candy counters, and lingerie racks in a frenzied quest for the perfect Valentine’s Day gift, one that will scream romance to his lady-love.
Please don’t get me wrong. I enjoy receiving diamonds, chocolate, and edible panties (‘Strawberry Passion’ rocks) as much as the next woman. Hey, I would kill for a Tanzanite pendant and matching earrings. I am not, I repeat, NOT advocating we scrap the lavish gift-giving ritual. Nevertheless, I contend that there’s more to demonstrating romance than a 20-pound Lady Godiva gift tower. To put my money where my mouth is, I will share with you the secret for injecting more romance into your relationship, both in and out of the bedroom:
Every man must learn what makes a woman tick.
Yes, folks, it really is that simple.
Since the beginning of time, we women have struggled, sadly with limited success, to instill more romance into our relationships. The good news is, the failure is not our fault. Seriously. The key to living the romantic dream nestles in the capable, not to mention long-fingered, sensitive, well-manicured, sinewy, and delightfully work-roughened hands of our romantically-challenged main squeeze. Think, for example, how wonderful it would be if our man grasped that overt ogling of the waitresses at Hooters was an unconditional no-no; how delightful if our man embraced our hormone-whipped mood swings with a hug, reassuring words, and an offer to clean the toilets; how glorious if our man listened with unfeigned interest to our frustrations, hurts, and complaints—without offering advice on how we should handle the situation; how totally sublime if our man memorized all our most sensitive spots and lavished attention on each and every of them. Frequently. Gently but firmly. The way we love most.
Okay, so I sense skepticism. How, you ask, can we impart this knowledge to our menfolk without indulging in mind-melding or nasty threats involving sharp implements? In the interest of female solidarity, I’m willing to share my mind-blowing ‘how-to’ secret:
Introduce the love of your life to romance fiction.
Okay, so I’m taking the high road and ignoring the eye-rolls. Bear with me. To achieve this goal, I have devised an Action Plan containing Tasks, Sub-Tasks, and Milestones.
The first task is sneaky. It exploits men’s love of logic. This is where you explain to him that romance novels provide unlimited opportunities for a man to plumb the depths (so to speak) of the mysterious world of Venus. In the process, he might even reach new insight into Martians. How, I ask you, can any man in his right mind resist unveiling the feminine mystique–what we love, what we hate, what turns us on, what turns us off, in short, what makes us tick?
Once you reach the first milestone (his buy-in that romance novels offer men untold benefits), it’s time to implement task two. Take a deep breath and drop a hint that, going forward (that’s man-speak, required to indicate you’re on his wave-length), his enlightenment will cause those Gates of Paradise to open more often. And bingo! He’s riveted by the bait of abundant sex. You’ve achieved the second milestone.
At this point, you must advance quickly to task three. Tap into his competitive streak by recounting your recurring fantasy of a man sprawled in an airport chair, legs crossed, waiting for his flight, briefcase and laptop at his feet—a manly man, a hunk who is truly comfortable in his own skin, a studmuffin who is dabbing the tears in his eyes, a hottie who has discarded his business report on financial trends in favor of the latest Nora Roberts bestseller. Assure him that at the end of the day (more man-speak), only real men read romance.
If you’ve done your job properly, you’ll soon hear him beg for Cynthia Woolf’s new western romance, or Maureen Fisher’s paranormal, or even romances by lesser-known authors like Susan Elizabeth Phillips and Lori Foster. Simply hand your dude the mushiest romance novel you can find, place a box of tissues within easy reach, and give him space to do the rest.
Mission accomplished! I offer you a transformed man who understands women inside and out. A man who knows what to do to and how to do it to crank up the romance quotient.
Seriously!
Or you can stick with the tried but true approach—a gift, dinner, mushy card, and celebratory sex. Either way is an excellent choice.
I wish you a fabulous Valentine’s Day, and would love for you to share the most memorable Valentine’s Day gift you received.
Please feel free to visit my blog for more nonsense such as ‘A Tummy-Taming Teddy and a Thigh Toner’ at http://booksbymaureen.com/?p=1449
Maureen Fisher’s Books
The Jaguar Legacy http://amzn.com/B005L40LX6 is an award-winning romance written in the tradition of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (with steamy romance), The Jaguar Legacy is strong enough for a man … but written for a woman.
Take one lost city deep in Mexican jungles, sprinkle with occult energy.
Add one sassy reporter on a quest for an exposé.
Combine with a generous helping of brilliant Scottish archaeologist who hates the press.
Throw in a dollop of vengeful ex-wife and a pinch of mysterious shaman who pursues ancient powers.
Stir until well combined, place in pressure cooker, and stand back from the fireworks.
Beware of shapeshifting and past life flashbacks.
Despite baffling panic attacks that devastated her career, journalist Charley Underhill barges in on a Mexican archaeological dig, bent on sniffing out a juicy exposé that will restore her reputation and earn enough money for her mother’s life-saving treatment. Haunted by past betrayals, Dr. Alistair Kincaid isn’t about to let a smart-mouthed reporter leak word of his latest discovery, an ancient Olmec city, to the press. A battle of wills and wits ensues. Soon, strands from a past life intertwine with the present, drawing the couple into a vortex of danger, romance, and chilling evil. Torn between redeeming her soul and betraying the man she loves, Charley faces impossible choices.
Fur Ball Fever http://amzn.com/B005LIALVE is a romantic crime mystery spiked with attitude (most of it warped), tons of humor, and enough steamy sex to drive those who dare read it racing for a cold shower.
After a lifetime of impetuous mistakes, pet spa owner Grace Donnelly outdoes herself when she loses her elderly client’s prize pooch—a shoo-in to win the annual Fur Ball. Money, careers, and lives are in jeopardy. Too bad her helpers consist of an aging hippie aunt, a renegade schnauzer, and a drag queen. Worst of all, the only man truly qualified to help is her former flame, the hunkiest bodyguard north of theMason-Dixon Line.
Private safety specialist Nick Jackson has his own pressing agenda: to nail the phony televangelist who pulled a retirement residence scam and whacked a witness. To salvage his case, his sanity, and his ex-lover’s velvety skin, Nick joins forces with the sassy crusader who rubs him the wrong way—and so many right ways too.
Hazards soon multiply like bunnies, exploding into romance, murder, and mayhem, culminating in a Fur Ball extravaganza the locals will never forget.
Read more about Maureen Fisher and her books at http://booksbymaureen.com