This is Why You Love Us… right?

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It’s Australia Day here down under, which always reminds the Divas what they love about living in Australia.


enhanced-buzz-1829-1389185937-3 enhanced-buzz-2588-1384177501-25 enhanced-buzz-12531-1368632187-30enhanced-buzz-12594-1384238507-4



enhanced-buzz-463-1384262460-17 (Actually we don’t love the heat so much, but there are ways round it. Like swimming)


(Er, maybe just drinking then. Lots of it)

enhanced-buzz-26255-1389186369-7 enhanced-buzz-20850-1389190161-27THE FOOD



enhanced-buzz-23535-1389190104-0(but then, even our cops can be quite laid back)

even the cops think they're funny

even the cops think they’re funny



enhanced-buzz-1786-1389185339-3 enhanced-buzz-22948-1368632149-18 enhanced-buzz-30779-1368632169-2AND THE FACT THAT WE’RE MOSTLY A FAIRLY HAPPY BUNCH


What’s not to love?

enhanced-buzz-21883-1368632140-4(Don’t worry, the rare Lazer-Eyed Koala almost never attacks in daylight)


(or Happy Monday if you don’t love us. But we know you do. We’re just so bloody interesting)

The Divas

Finding the right spot – Sex locations, Day 3


The Divas have been having a lot of fun of late, discussing all the places our characters have done the dirty. Sami made a list first, which you can see right here. Then it was Lexxie’s turn. (Click here for her list.)

The thing is with erotic romance writing, our characters do the dirty A LOT! And let’s face it, if they confined themselves to their bedrooms, things could start to get a wee bit boring, no? So it’s up to us, the authors, to throw our characters into places or situations that’ll spice up the scenes.


Truth is, very few of my love scenes take place in the bedroom. All too often, they’re so keen to get it on, that soft, comfortable bed is just too damn far away. So, where have they done it? Well let’s see:

1) In the lounge room. (That seems to be a favorite of mine. There’s even a scene on a couch which takes place as the NYE midnight firework show begins. And oh, yeah, there are a lot of fireworks!)

2) In the dining room. (On the table and a chair. Different books though.)

3) In the bathroom. (Not in the shower or bath, as you’d expect…)

4) A gazebo in the middle of a rose garden. (Several times. Turns out the gazebo was a special place for this hero and heroine.)

5) The dressing room of a sports stadium. (With sixty thousands people packed into said stadium.)

6) An outdoor spa/jacuzzi.

7) A doctor’s waiting room.

8) On the deck of a boat.

9) On the ladder of a boat.

10) In an office. (With someone watching through the window. And without someone watching through the window. And in his office chair. And her office couch.)

11) In the garden during a party.

12) In his parents’ garden, behind the massive eucalyptus tree. (Don’t worry. It was night. The parents never saw a thing.)

13) On the balcony of a hotel room. (Man, I adore love scenes set in hotel rooms! I have heaps of them.)

14) Tied to a chair. (Well, she was. He’d gotten free by then.)

15) On a bar. (With three hot men! How’s that for one lucky lady?)

16) On a poker table. (Never fear, the cards and chips had been packed away.)

17) On a kitchen table. (Sturdy table that one.)

18) On the trunk of a car on the side of a road in broad daylight. (Phew, lucky the road was deserted.)

19) On a cliff overlooking the ocean. (Spectacular views, I might add.)

20) In her dreams. (And his)


Now, for the fun bit…A CONTEST!

You’ve read my list. Now check out Lexxie and Sami’s lists. (Rhian’s is coming soon!)

Each day any commenter who can match up at least one of that author’s books with its corresponding sex location will go in the draw to win a set of four backlist books–winner’s choice, one from each of us. So, for eg, you might say that the love scenes in the gazebo are from Red Red Wine – and you’d be right. (I gave that one away because I’m super cool that way 😀 ). Do you get the picture? Match up as many or as few as you can.

Have fun. (Oh, and don’t be shy to add a couple of places you might have tried. Who knows? They may just land up in a Diva book one day.) 😉

Good luck,


Conclusions from DUDCon13


Some of you expressed your wish to have been a fly on the wall during our inaugural conference last weekend. Well, you asked for it, so here goes

WARNING: The views expressed in this post are NSFW and not necessarily the views of all Divas at all times, although they were each expressed by at least one Diva at least one time during the course of DUDCon13, and all of the Divas laughed uproariously. Also quotes are random and may seem inexplicable. Further explanation of such quotes could lead to more NSFW content and other disasters. Read at your own peril

  • Young Australian men apparently call a blow job a blozza (you heard it here first)
  • Vagina biscuits are very creamy (you’re surprised?)
  • If one drink turns a hoohah into pussy, how many drinks do you need to have to turn pussy into c***? (one and a half, as it turns out)
  • It is perfectly okay to eat frozen yoghurt for dinner. Especially if it’s creamy.
  • Never top up your drink. Topping from the bottom is okay.
  • It is perfectly okay to consume the bulk of a 1.7ltr bottle of Costco premix margarita between four people. Even if one of them pikes and only has one (*narrows eyes* you know who you are)
  • If a guy’s business turns over $1million per year, you have Jess Dee’s permission to fuck him. Seriously.
  • Rhian Cahill is awesome to sleep with (Spoken by Lexxie Couper. We’re still waiting on confirmation from Mr. C)
  • Jess Dee offered to shower at the same time as Sami Lee. Sami’s husband was thrilled until he found out Jess has more than one shower in her house
  • It is perfectly okay to eat nachos for morning tea. In fact it is sometimes mandatory.
  • Overheard quote of the week: Jess: “I read a book with a fuck machine in it”. Lexx: “You read a book with someone fucking a sheep?” (It’s wool love people. The new dino porn)

Wish you were all there!

Actually, maybe not.



Five Reasons Thrillers Aren’t Romance Novels


I’ve been reading a few thrillers lately. They are a great escape from Romancelandia when I need to simply chill out and read without accidently working like I do when I read romance novels, and have ever since I became an author. But I have gotten a bit of a chuckle about the difference between the way sexual relations between men and women are portrayed by thriller-writing men and what I’m used to with reading and writing romance.

  1. In thrillers women ask strange men who look like scary-looking vagrants to come home with them for a home cooked meal and some conveniently unemotional sex. This arrangement can continue unabated, even while this man–who the woman barely knows–proceeds to brutally kill close to a dozen people without the appearance of a conscience. Why bother changing the locks, right?
  2. In thrillers women never bug the hero to talk about his feelings—not even about the five guys he just garroted. A thriller-woman will simply offer him a shower, a hot meal and another tension releasing bonk.
  3. In thrillers, the women initiate all sexual contact by undressing and basically throwing themselves in front of the hero’s dick. No need to buy her dinner fellas. This is man fantasy town.
  4. In thrillers, four paragraphs is long enough for the hero to satisfy a woman’s every sexual need (as a comparison, the average length of one of my sex scenes is around 4000 words). Yep, after four paragraphs she’ll be squirming with delight and copious praise for his performance, even though she’s the one who got undressed and threw herself in front of his dick. I mean, who did all the work there?
  5. In thrillers, women make no demands beyond the sex. They don’t ask for a relationship or exclusivity or even a blood test. They have sex for the sake of it and get out of the guy’s way so he can go shoot some more dudes. Basically, thriller-women are men with extraordinarily welcoming vaginas.

 I love you thrillers. You make me smile and give my brain such a much needed rest!


 my bookshelf: now with 30% more thrillers

my bookshelf: now with 30% more thrillers




Diary of a Netaholic


I lost my home internet last week. Not just for a day last week but for almost ALL of last week.

Yes, things were that bad.

 Day 1 without Internet:

Changing over internet service providers, that’s all. No big deal. Service will be up and running again in a day

Day 2 without internet:

So, still no connection. Does this company know that a day is only 24hrs long? Are they counting the days in tortoise hours, where everything moves really, really slow? Oh well, I do have my smart phone so it’s not THAT much of an emergency. I can read tweets and check yahoo.

Day 3 without internet:

I’m getting a headache from constantly staring at the teeny-tiny screen on my phone. Beginning to realise how important checking twitter feeds and facebook posts and emails has become to me. Start to wonder if I should be concerned about this dependence. Vow to google question: “ how do you know when you’re addicted to the Internet?”—just as soon as I have access to the web again (irony? What irony?)

Day 4 without internet:

Dear Internet Service Provider Man,

I received your email inquiring as to whether I was satisfied with my recent service experience. I am responding to let you know that, sure, I’m happy. As happy as Katie Holmes during a Tom Cruise movie marathon, and by that I mean I’m not FUCKING HAPPY. You and me have what you might call ‘irreconcilable differences’. To clarify: You think you have hooked up my internet, but I am of the opinion that you have, er, not. So my recent service experience has entailed receiving no service at all. It has sucked dead dingoes dongers. I have no internet at my house. I have been staring at a 4 inch screen all week and everything else in the world is starting to look really, really big by comparison. I watched a movie on my TV last night and I thought I was at the fucking cinema. Which would be great, except I’m now dieting so that means no popcorn for me. Oh joy. No fucking popcorn and no fucking internet.

So in summary, get my fucking internet up and running ASAP. Or at least send me some fucking popcorn.


Sami ‘Do you realise I’m waiting on news from an editor?’ Lee

Day 5 without internet:

Who’s children are those? When did I have children? Oh well, no internet, so I suppose I can play with the children.

Day 6 without internet:

What? A service person is coming around to the house to fix the problem with the internet? Hmm, just when I was getting into the Tinkerbell game and playing I Spy. And here he comes with the questions. ‘What sort of splitter cable do you have?’, ‘What’s your usual bandwidth?’, and ‘What’s your user key and passcode?’. My shoulders are starting to hurt from all the shrugging. My feminist ideals shrink to the size of a pea when I’m forced to declare, ‘My husband usually does all this stuff’. Germaine Greer would be so proud. It was probably apropos that I was wearing fluffy slippers and herding kids like cattle when he came to the door. Ah, the little woman, doesn’t have a clue about this technology business. *head pat*

But what do I care what he thinks of me? My ignorance compelled the man called Brian to fix it all for me, didn’t it? Hubby said I should play dumb more often.

It’s so cute that he thought I was playing.



(Who’s just glad to be back online)

A Lesson in Oz-isms


This is a joke. Sort of.

Whilst over in the US recently, Lexxie C and I were discussing our use of Australianisms and how important it is to us to keep them in our books whenever we can. For us it’s what makes our characters authentically Australian and gives them a unique voice. Whilst many publishers ask their authors to ‘de-oz’ their books (phrase coined by me just now), we’ve both been pretty lucky because we’ve been able to keep most of ours in. Thought I’d share a few of the more recent ones my lovely editor/s has let through to the keeper (a cricketing term meaning let pass).

  • Crack on (said when referring to a person of the opposite sex you’d like to charm out of their pants, i.e. ‘I’m going to crack on to that hot guy who looks like Ryan Gosling if it’s the last thing I ever do!’)
  • Having a lend (Pulling someone’s leg… oh that’s Australian too. Trying to pull the wool over someone’s eyes? Using a serious face while telling a tall tale, trying to take someone for a fool, that sort of thing)
  • Piss weak prick (US example might be chicken shit. You are a cowardly bastard who can’t get it up)
  • Punching on (Having a fist fight)
  • Jocks (Mens underwear, specifically brief style. A final line editor recently wondered at the use of the plural. How to explain men don’t wear a jock here? Did she think I was referring to a jock strap? I have no idea. I don’t know where jocks comes from but Australian guys wear either boxers, occasionally boxer briefs, or jocks. Or possibly nothing, but I don’t want to go there)
  • Tracky dacks (Actually I didn’t use this but I was tempted. These are sweatpants. The proper name is tracksuit pants, we affectionally call them tracky dacks {dacks=pants}
  • Fined up (It has ‘fined up’ when it stops raining, i.e., it is now fine {sunny} as opposed to pissing down {raining really hard}.
  • Jumper (This is what we call a sweater. I don’t know why. Because they were initially made of wool and sheep sometimes jump fences, ergo, you’re wearing a jumper? I have a hero and heroine discussing this important issue in a WIP that I’m hoping will find an editor who will let my jumper discussion go through to the keeper, unless she thinks it sucks big hairy dingo balls)

Something to chew on this weekend (something to think about) which is better than a poke in the eye with a burnt stick (self explanatory, yes?)


OMG There’s a Flower Growing Out of it!


Here are a few pearls of wit from my kids, to be filed under category, you gotta love ’em”


The other day Princess and Cherub were wrestling on the couch and this was the conversation I overheard:

Cherub: (presenting buttocks) Smell my butt

Princess: No way!

Cherub: Come on, it’s grown into a flower

I was laughing too much to reprimand her for, I assume, attempting to fart in her sister’s face.


One night this week we were playing ‘What am I?’ with the girls. Princess was giving clues like; I have lots of wheels and a big body and I drive on the road. Hubby tried to help Cherub out by whispering ‘Truck’. Having misheard his clue she shouted, “Dragon!”. When Princess said no, it was a truck, Cherub rolls her eyes at her dad, as though he were quite dense. “I didn’t think it was dragon!”


While playing the same game, it was Cherubs turn to give clues. This was how it went:

I have no legs, no arms, no face, no anything at all.

The answer in case you were wondering (we all were), was “I’m a cup”


Last week Princess and I were in the supermarket, going through the chilled food section. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she commented, “I’m cold. You can tell because I have chicken pops.”

I then had to explain the difference between Chicken Pox and Goosebumps. Why do we name these reactions of the flesh after birds?


One night when I was putting Cherub to bed, I asked her, “How much do I love you?”. She spread her arms out wide to show I loved her as far as I could stretch my arms and beyond (she’d done this before, you see). On this particular night I asked her in return, “How much do you love me?”

Cherub replied, “Six.”


Recently Princess was on the phone to her grandparents. Her grandma asked her how she was, to which Princess responded, “I’m perfect of course!”

Nothing like the confidence of a six year old 🙂

Have a great weekend,



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