Parade of Roses

by Rose Maru

Overview

Have a certain itch that needs to be scratched and you don't know which horny - uh, er, "thorny" - Rose story and book to use to satisfy that need? Parade of Roses to the rescue!
As a super-big, bonus (*bonus*... bonUS! Quit saying it with an 'er' at the end! I'm not that kind of girl.) I've included the first part of every book I've released to help you get some idea about my general style. Although I do continue to keep my Truth and Consequences sections to these stories available only to those intelligent folk that appreciate high-class, women-friendly erotica and purchase the original title (Honesty? It's because I sometimes get a little too raw and TMI for comfort back there in the truth section, so it's also for my own benefit. You know, like wearing a robe, even if you tie it loose, you've still got it tied - so you feel better about yourself. Well, just so long as no one points out, "Hey! You're shaved!" because I've happily felt it covering both sides of my chest and I fail to realize that 'cleavage' (oh, as if - in my dreams... these little kittens can't create a valley without serious help) gap in a robe extends down below the belly button. Yup, putting on panties would've been a great idea - where were you when I was getting dressed for this demonstration?).
Plus, if all goes well, when I update the collective, "You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." I mean, you'll get a notice a new edition of the book is available for download (at least if you add the book to your 'library'). Sounded like a nifty way to keep those interested in new releases on top of things, as it looks like I'm back in the saddle again... behind the keyboard, at least.
This book is the perfect price, so why the heck are you still reading this instead of downloading it and reading THAT instead?

Product Details

BN ID:	2940153794921
Publisher:	Rose Maru
Publication date:	10/21/2016
Sold by:	Smashwords
Format:	eBook
File size:	2 MB
Age Range:	18 Years

About the Author

Born a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... no, wait, that wasn't me, but sometimes it certainly seems like it.

Before getting into all the fun details, I want to clear the air of a rather large aspect of my writing because it has a huge impact on my work: I have HSDS (Hypoactive Sexual Desire Syndrome). In fact, if it weren't for my HSDS, I wouldn't be here and you wouldn't be there reading this - my previously unpublished writings were explorations into kick-starting my, ahem, 'motor.' I tried to explore anything that might cause a little tingle below, even ideas and concepts my thinking brain refused to hear. Creating an alter-ego in my stories allowed me to safely penetrate the veil of non-existence - I was forced to think about sexy thoughts and situations.

I wrote for years covering a wide range of topics, my husband providing a large number of seedlings from which to grow my stories (HSDS... what do you expect? Much to my dismay, what I learned to expect was very raunchy pillow-talk. Much to his dismay, he learned to expect me to leap from bed saying, "Oh! That is so good, I've got to write it down!"). It turns out, writing romantic erotica usually wasn't doing it for me. I gave up on it for a period of time - in essence, I gave up trying to help myself, as well.

Then my significant's bright idea: if it didn't help me, maybe it would help someone else. I was back to writing again, or more correctly, preparing my work for release unto an unsuspecting public (I have now officially absolved myself from any evil that befalls you after reading my books - it's all his fault). So I dredged up my folder of rough and unpolished stories - damn, I wrote this much? No wonder I wasn't having sex, I was busy writing about it. (Fib alert: so not true it's not funny. Not the 'not having sex' part, but the lack of bedroom action wasn't really due to my writing.)

An odd thing happened, though, as I was rereading my material and editing it. I felt a little something that I hadn't experienced in a long time. I actually felt a little tingle from down below. That soft little call, while editing some stories, started to get a little louder - still very quiet, but it was most certainly there where it hadn't been for decades. I gave in to the siren call almost immediately - surprised the hell out of my husband (thank goodness it wasn't the UPS guy at the door during those moments). Complete, spontaneous, due-to-my-doing rumpy-bumpy. Holy humper, Batman, I'm fixed!

I wish. It disappeared again, just as easily slipping back into my 'normal abnormal' routine of never thinking about it within hours. Back to editing. Being the patient sort, I allowed myself to edit a whole three paragraphs before anguish sets in, "It's not working! Ah! I'm broken forever!" Luckily, I have a never say die attitude (Fib alert: ... no, wait, this isn't my stories where I have to include a 'truth' section - let me have my freaking moment), and said, "Piss on it, I'm still going to release my work. I've come this far."

And so it went - although much to my joy (and my hubby's) - every so often, I'd find myself showing such obvious responses to passages, it was apparent to even an HSDS girl - and we'd make joy (sometimes several times) to the situation. I wasn't fixed, but at least I had a crutch.

Which leaves me editing my old material, exploring new, and tormenting you with it - where I hope it does you some good, too. If it can't make you happy that way, I hope it'll at least provide you a little laugh the other way - especially since I do provide a 'Truth and Consequences' side to all my stories at the end of each book where I detail the nitty-gritty and harsh reality of every piece. This allows everyone's inner voyeur to be released because my HSDS does a great job of preventing me from grasping 'TMI,' so I tend to spill my guts back there in my books.

As for my bio (side note: doesn't that make it an 'auto-bio?'), I'm a cute, twenty-one year-old (Fib Alert! Oh my Lord! If you're writing fantasy-fiction, at least make it believable!) - crap, okay, fine, I'm old enough to probably be your sister - from a second marriage - so we're not blood related, which means you don't have to get all weirded out about reading sex stuff about me) - and I live in the Pacific Northwest where I am still happily married to my first husband (very funny - he edits my other fibs so I have to tell the truth, but leaves the happily married one)... at least until he reads the final published product where I changed the truth section in every book back to being brutally honest contrary to his corrections.

And, yes, that is me on the cover of all my books, but I'm not spilling the beans here, you have to read the book.