Why did I write this book? The answer is well … complicated. The quick answer is that I am horny, all the time, every day and every night. So, I need and like to write stories with adult themes.
Just ask anyone who knows me. I enjoy watching movies and television shows that include some level of nudity. There are a rare few that I will override that requirement, if they intrigue me in some other way.
I’m also deeply into science, sci-fi, crime and mystery, especially if they include historical or future dramas. I’ve been reading all my life and used to write my own stories as an adolescent and young adult.
The longer or more thoughtful answer is I strive to take every opportunity to enjoy the finer pleasures of life. I absolutely love the female form. She is Mother Nature (and God if you’re believer) gift to the species. To me, to believe in God is to believe that she is a woman. There is something about that gender that turns my eye and encourages me to engage with women. I enjoy finding out who they are and getting to know the person behind their breasts, legs, lips and asses.
Now that I’ve found a person to share that passion with, life is grand. She allows me to be who I am and doesn’t try to change me.
I’m also kinky. What does that mean, you might be thinking? Well, as you read my books, you’ll find that some of the scenes that I write about are based upon real life experiences.
When I was a young lad, I always thought that the thoughts I had in my head were very different from those of my family. I kept them private, fearing that I would be labeled as a deviant and outcast. Over the years, I buried those thoughts and feelings. I thought that they existed solely in the realm of fantasy. Something that they do “only on the west coast” but never in my traditional home.
I suffered during those years, though I maintained my grasp on my love of sex and free love. Early in my first marriage, we shared experiences together that I will never regret to this day. They were fun, exciting but never fulfilling. Then one day, I realized that the mask I wore would put me looking at the grass brown side up for all eternity. I also discovered that she had been wearing a mask. Once we shed those masks, we each discovered we had married the wrong person and we moved on.
From that point on, I grieved for many years. As I healed, I vowed to be the person who I knew I was. How to get there was a mystery. It wasn’t until I met someone who said to me, “Rich, you may be kinky. I think you should look into it”. After she gave me pointers, I discovered that I’m not strange, different or sick. I also found an entire community who lived a life I was always meant to live.. They share the same beliefs and morals as I do.They were honorable, healthy and well-rounded. They were just like me!
Jump ahead a few years and many experiences later, I resumed the writing that had slipped from my life. After struggling with finding an exciting and titillating topic that was different from other authors, I began writing, ‘The Taste of Honey’.
I hope I have peaked your curiosity that you will return tomorrow as I continue to explain why I wrote, “The Taste of Honey”!
Her housemates in shock, Mona puts aside her disbelieve and organizes the house in a show of support for the survivors. The tragedy they suffered ripples throughout the land and everyone vows to find and put down the perpetrators. Gathering her housemates together, just as she would do to honor one of their own recently departed, she calls them into action. Before long, a memorial is planned, a house colors are temporarily transformed to the those of the stricken community and moments of silence are scheduled for repeating days at the hour of the tragedy.
