I made you a wedding present. It's a fart.

I made you a wedding present. It’s a fart.

I know, it’s been dead around here. I don’t know what to say, other than I crawled into a hole for a bit. Basically, something happened that upset me, and I ignored that it upset me, and I plodded along for three weeks feeling listless.

The reality is, as much as I love canoodling with y’all, my focus needs to be on writing. Seriously, let’s see what I have in the pre-production phase:

One Fantasy Novel (set in Louis XIV’s France)

One Erotica Novella (Based on Beauty and the Beast)

One Erotica Novelette (The Vampire’s Gallery, slated to be edited and released in February)

Three erotica stories of various lengths, in various stages (one might want to be a novella, the other just needs some rewriting, the last is also scheduled to be edited).

I’m working on the third story of the Ass Grabber series, and after that, I need to work on writing a sequel to The Vampire’s Gallery. I’d like to pick my Literotica series back up too. Maybe as a treat after I finish the third Ass Grabber story.

I’m also just about done with the monumental task of sorting through wedding photos. There are about 450 photos, and various people who want them scattered about the country. My husband kept referring me to his mother’s list until it came time to order, and then he asked her exactly what she wanted. I’m going to finalize my sister’s order next week, and after that, the only person to tackle is my sister-in-law. Thankfully, as the de facto editor for Smutwriters, I’ve gotten good at tackling people.

And finally, here’s a picture of the bride! I feel like I’m stealing photos of my own wedding, but these are proofs. I’ll put together an album at some point for everyone, with my husband awkwardly cropped out.

I suspect I’m reaching for my beer. I was drinking Victory Summer Love, aw…