Archive for November, 2012

Flash Fiction Friday

Posted on: November 30th, 2012 by Madison Lake No Comments

One week to go until our first draw for a $50 Amazon gift certificate!


Every Friday, a 50 word story is posted on the blog, based on a theme given the previous Friday. Everyone is encouraged to play!

If your piece is chosen, it will be posted as the Flash Fiction story of the week. Your name will also be entered in our draw for a $50 Amazon gift certificate compliments of Madison Lake. Draws will be made quarterly, on Fridays of course.

The theme of today’s Flash Fiction piece is INTERLOPER, and the winning story was sent to us by Gerrad McConnell. 

She listened to him through the bathroom door, her hand clutching the handle, praying that the interloper couldn’t hear the thunder of her breathing. Fear nestled deep in her stomach and she choked back tears and the thick lump in her throat. It was then she felt the handle twist.
Congratulations once again Gerrad! Your name will be entered into our draw. First draw will be Friday, December 7, 2012. And THANK YOU to all who participated. Keep sending in your stories as this contest will continue. We are receiving a lot of clever fiction. I love it!
Check in on any Friday to find out the theme for the following week, then submit your 50 word story to All submissions must find their way to my inbox no later than noon Thursday.
Next week we will announce the WINNER of the first part of our Flash Fiction Contest. Good luck everyone.
ML xo




History of Sex, Part 45

Posted on: November 29th, 2012 by Madison Lake No Comments

Did we all catch Liz & Dick on Lifetime?  Poor Elizabeth Taylor is probably still rolling over in her grave and not just because Lindsay Lohan was cast to play her.  Liz Taylor had a rich and scandalous life not limited to Richard Burton.  She was a savvy business woman who was one of the first actors to ask for points on production.  And before Richard Burton, before White Diamonds, before husbands 5-8, she was part of one of the biggest Hollywood scandals:  the break-up of Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher.

In the 1950s, Debbie Reynolds was most definitely America’s Sweetheart.  She was like Jennifer Anniston, Sandra Bullock, and 1989 Meg Ryan all rolled into one, plus tap dancing.  She was in Singin’ in the Rain, you can’t get more beloved than that!  She was married to Eddie Fisher, had two young children (including the future Princess Leia), and all seemed perfect in her world.

Enter Liz Taylor.

Liz had been in an intense and passionate marriage with Mike Todd, who was best friends with Eddie.  The four of them would go on double dates and their children played together.  All seemed happy until Mike Todd died in a plane crash in 1958.  Liz was plunged into depression and Eddie was mourning for his best friend.  During their mutual grief, the two fell in love and began an affair.

This scandal was huge.  Prior to this, the Hollywood studio system put strict morality clauses into contracts.  Though stars broke them all the time, the studios felt they had to protect their product and managed to keep about 95% of scandals under wraps.  Most gossip columnists were paid by the studios and they were willing to pay people to keep quiet.  This one blew the doors off the church.  Liz and Eddie were photographed all over town, gave incriminating interviews, and in general couldn’t keep their hands off one another.  Debbie played the jilted wife card and was all over the fan magazines with her kids, milking it for all it was worth.

Liz and Eddie finally married in 1959, Debbie started dating again, things calmed down.  This was Liz’s 4th marriage and though she was starting to get a reputation, a near-lethal bout with pneumonia and an Oscar win got public opinion back on her side.  At least until Richard Burton showed up on the scene, but that’s a tale for another time.

Talk to Tippy

Posted on: November 28th, 2012 by Madison Lake



Talk to Tippy for outrageously honest advice.  Call it the second opinion we all wish we had.  Unabashedley candid and insightful – trust Tippy for guidance with dating, relationship or sexual conundrums.  Yes, you can Talk to Tippy.


“You’re really lovely, but do you honestly suppose I can sleep with every man who asks me? The answer is no.”

This was my response at a reunion of sorts this past week in the Keys.  I headed there, Key Biscayne to be precise, to reconnect with friends and previous associates and a very persistent Keith couldn’t understand my reluctance as we had had quite a passionate “thing” in years past. But I am sure he was concerned my answer was triggered because of his weight gain.  He hadn’t gone off the charts but he was no longer my Kentucky Derby Winner. Truly, I was just exhausted and the idea of a frosty mojito and a hammock with the ocean lapping at my toes was heaven enough.  Which leads me to our first letter this week….


Dear Tippy,

My boyfriend, whom I live with, has gained a bit of weight this past year, I would guess about 25 pounds.  I don’t find it as bothersome as he does but as a result we rarely have sex anymore.  I don’t want to make him more self-conscious but I need to know how to coax him back into the bedroom.  What do you suggest?


Still find him Sexy


Dear Still Sexy,

Oh the poor dear!!  Imagine how we women feel when we are bloated with our monthlies or gassy and burpy from a good solid Thanksgiving weekend of steady foraging at the feed bag?  Well, he must be quite special because most men have a very healthy opinion of their physical state and prowess.  He is obviously sensitive and it’s your job to turn on the charm, remind him of the parts of his body you really like, how great his natural man smell is, the things he used to do to you to make you crazy etc but whatever you do, go slowly.  He needs to trust that you are indeed ok with his new shape.  Just offer a gentle candlelit massage of his shoulders and neck (and his ego).  Don’t go any further.  Wait for his signal.  Ask him to do fun things for you like paint your toenails or scrub your back while you’re in the tub or give him a pedicure as he tells you about his day.  It’s all about touching touching touching.  Head out to his favorite little restaurant but instead of sitting at a table, sit at the bar and make sure your leg brushes his, lean into him, whisper to him about the bartender or someone else and generally just flirt.  Get him a new luxe sweater or shirt that fits him perfectly at the weight he is now.  And tell him you’d like to take up sailing or biking or dancing.  Something you can do together.  And when it’s appropriate, tell him you want his help to change the way you both eat.  Clear the cupboards of sugary foods and starchy garbage.  Get that ball rolling by cooking something fabulous together.

Make him feel special.  He will definitely come around.  And speaking of coming…………


Dear Tippy,

I orgasm fairly easily during masturbation and oral sex, but it’s been a very long time since I was able to climax during penetration.  I’m worried now that this is all in my head.  Is it?




Dear Heady,

Our minds are terrifically powerful engines.  The mere thought of something planted in our subconscious will inevitably take root and blossom unless weeded out from the roots up.  So think logically.  You can climax.  That’s good.  You can climax while enjoying oral.  That’s good.  So I would bet it’s mostly a mechanical thing.  About  70% of women who can orgasm in other ways have difficulty reaching orgasm during penetrative sex.  Physically, a woman needs the right  type of stimulation of her clitoral region to reach full orgasm.  (and for me – sometimes a ton of foreplay, maybe a good French wine, freshly waxed legs and nether regions- okay, I digress.)

It’s an equation, really.  Friction, manipulation, pressure, force, angle, state of mind, lubrication and willingness on the part of you and your partner and ding ding ding – jackpot!!

Keep at it.  You know it’s worth it.




Titillating Tuesday

Posted on: November 27th, 2012 by Madison Lake No Comments

Where Daffodils Grow Wildtitillating tuesday


Chapter 14 – FRIEND OR FOE


“Allo, Proberta,” Crow said merrily. “‘Ow ya been?” Proberta stood up, shocked and annoyed.

“Crow! What are you doing here?”

“I’m ‘ere ta take ya ta yer friend, Roset’a. Seen as yer back in da market ta find ‘er.” Proberta looked stunned.

“How do you know that, Crow? And where did you come from?”

“From da compound, natur’ly,” he said as if she should have known. “Don’ yer worry none, M’La’y. Crow say ‘e’s gonna look out fer ya, ‘n Crow means wha’ Crow says. Dat’s why I’m ‘ere.”

“But how did you know I – we – needed help? How did you find us?”

Again Crow laughed a jolly belly laugh. “I’s lookin’ ou’ fer Proberta.” Crow glanced over to Maggie lying with Margaret on the makeshift bed. The baby had looked up when he entered the hut, and continued staring at him, making soft gurgling sounds. Crow slowly approached, reaching his hand toward her, a wide grin spread across his face. Proberta leapt forward to stop his advances.

“It’s okay, Proberta,” Maggie said. “He can touch her. It’s fine, see?” Proberta watched as Crow placed is large, calloused finger into Margaret’s open palm. She grabbed it eagerly, pulling it toward her mouth as babies do.

“Oh, no, ‘lil darlin’. Crow’s gotta wash up firs’.” Margaret giggled and reached for the amulet made from bone and onyx that hung from the leather thong around Crow’s thick neck. He let her tug at it and turn it around in her small fingers as she fixated on its shape and shine.

“We best be star’in’ out M’La’y’s. Nigh’ll soon fall. Lord Philly’ll be ‘ere ‘n no time.”

Proberta decided not to even ask how he knew this or even what else he knew. Both woman hustled to pack what they had just unpacked, stuffing things back in their satchels and returning items to their original state. Proberta took apart the fire pit she had so carefully constructed and scattered brush around the area to cover up any signs of human tampering. All the while Crow held baby Margaret who was happy as could be in his arms. After keeping her eye on him out of concern for the child, Proberta finally relaxed a bit, staying focussed on her own task of breaking camp. There were too many questions to ask and time was of the essence. Her instincts played with her better judgement, and right now all she had was to trust this man who for some reason she had never trusted. Why did he always appear when she needed help? Who did he work for, if anyone? And what did he want from her? She paid close attention to the way Maggie navigated Crow. Proberta trusted Maggie, so knowing she felt comfortable around him made her feel more at ease. It would likely be several hours, perhaps days, before she could put any serious questions to Crow. Until that time she would have to follow his lead.

It was dusk when they journeyed forth once again, this time heading to the east. Crow seemed to be very clear where they were going. With scythe in hand, leading his horse behind him, he cleared the path, making it relatively easy to cut through the thicket. He didn’t seem worried about leaving a trail behind, but again, Proberta could only trust that he knew what he was doing for their benefit. They rode well into the night, stopping only for Maggie to feed baby Margaret and for them to snack on venison jerky that Crow had brought, and the nuts, seeds and dried fruit the women carried in their skirt pockets. Early on they took turns carrying Margaret, but as night descended, and it grew colder and darker, Crow happily wrapped her inside his heavy jacket, which kept her secured by its leather belt. There she slept warmly and contentedly. Finally they stopped to sleep in a protected grove of heather, skirted by dwarf oak trees. Though they slept fitfully, at least they rested, knowing they had acres to cross before they arrived at their destination.

The following day was easier, the women having found their stride. Crow didn’t talk much, except to coo at Margaret and play rhyming games that she didn’t understand but seemed to enjoy immensely. By nightfall of the second night, as the weary travelers made their way through a less forested part of The Shire, they heard the quiet hum of music and laughter. Leading the way toward a flickering of lights through the trees, the four adventurers arrived in an open glen. It was brightly lit with burning torches, lanterns hanging from low-slung tree branches, and a giant bonfire where a group of scantily clad men and women danced to the beat of drums. Topless women paraded openly with spring garlands upon their heads, their hair hanging loosely down their backs. Arm-in-arm, they planted wet, juicy kisses randomly on men’s lips as they passed them by, giggling and kissing each other along the way. Breasts were fondled and ogled, and men walked up to the woman of their choice, whisking her off to a dark corner of the forest, leaving the festivities temporarily behind.

“What is this place?” asked a surprised Proberta.

“Looks ta be da Beltane Festival, M’La’y. ‘Appens on da May day. Tis ‘n ancient Celtic way ta celebrate fertil’ty a da eart’ ‘n all. A spring cel’bration.” Crow didn’t seem the least bit ruffled or even interested in the lustiness displayed before them. Maggie stood, eyes gaping in disbelief. Little Margaret giggled at the noise and merriment after so many quiet days with little stimulation.

A small group gathered around the travelers. One buxom, half-naked woman picked Margaret out of Crow’s arms and danced her around as the baby squealed with delight. When the woman returned her to Crow, she gave him a luscious kiss of thanks, leaving Crow blushing with pleasure. A few shirtless men, wearing leather armbands to accentuate their muscles, flirted with Maggie and Proberta. After days on the trail, it was hard not to be taken in by the jovial laughter, the playful touching and teasing. For Proberta, it brought back memories – memories she hoped to rid herself of. It would be too easy, she knew, to jump into the heat of the fire, to remove her dusty clothing and dance uninhibited letting her feelings go unencumbered. Then, when the moon rose high into the dark spring sky, to be taken into the forest for her sexual awakening. She glanced over at Maggie, who seemed to be enthralled with the whole affair.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she said breathlessly as she dismounted. Just as she said this, a handsome young man stepped up to her and kissed her tenderly on her lips. He couldn’t have yet turned twenty, but the soft growth on his chin suggested he was old enough to enjoy Beltane. He took her hand to lead her away from her group, gazing into her eyes adoringly. She hesitated, then dropped the reins and took a few steps along with him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” scolded Proberta. The young man released Maggie’s hand with a grin.

“Perhaps I’ll find you later, M’Lady.” He winked, and walked into the crowd toward his next momentary love interest.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie said bending to pick up the leather reins, slightly ashamed of herself for even thinking of going with the attractive young stranger.

“Don’t be. Anybody would have been tempted. I was.” She smiled slyly at Maggie, who broke into peals of laughter.

“It just-it just looks like so much fun,” she said. “And I haven’t had fun in such a long time. No offense.”

“I can’t offer you all of your entertainment, after all,” Proberta joked.

The group handed their tired steeds over to the stable hands who took them to a large open barn where they could be brushed and watered. Then they decided to wander down to the bonfire where they indulged in freshly cooked Bannock, the sweet bread of the gods, and lamb cooking slowly on an open spit. Crow drank a mug of stout and continued to swing little Margaret round and round with the music as she rested on his hip. He took great pride in showing her off, almost as if she were his own. Maggie didn’t seem to care in the least. She looked flushed with happiness at the exuberance that surrounded them. However, Proberta was not so easily swayed. She couldn’t help wonder why he and Raven had never had children of their own.

Before long, the women tired, unable to keep up with the celebratory clime that was sure to not only continue through the night, but well into the week.

“I’ll take Da La’y Mossgrove and baby Marg’ret to dat tent o’er thar,” Crow said, pointing to a dimly lit canvas hut tucked in the trees away from the throngs. “Dey can sleep ‘dere, ‘n get ‘way from dis noise ‘n dancin’.”

Proberta felt something tug at her. Why did Crow want to take Maggie and the baby, and not include her? What was he up to? She had noticed how he had been hovering around them, and Maggie didn’t seem to mind at all. Proberta knew Maggie was intuitive but Maggie didn’t know Crow like she did. Something just didn’t feel right. Maggie gave Proberta a kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, sweet Proberta. Thank you for getting us here safely.” Before Proberta could protest, Crow and Maggie walked off toward their sleeping quarters. An uncomfortable fear gripped her, something she hadn’t felt since their arrival at the Beltane. Her mind searched for what it could be, where the feeling of terror was coming from.

“And I’ll take you, Lady Proberta.” Proberta turned to see Phillip, completely naked except for a loincloth hanging loosely from his hips. In his hand he held a pint of steaming ale, the froth of which covered his upper lip. He reached toward her with his free hand and grabbed her slim waist, pulling her into him. “Now that I’ve got you in my clutches, you’ll get what you’ve been wanting, M’Lady, what you deserve. Wench,” he said under his breath. Proberta struggled to get away. She screamed and pounded her fists against his chest, pushing to wrench herself free. A few passersby laughed at them, thinking it all part of a game.

“I don’t want this,” she cried. “I don’t want you. Let me go, Phillip. Why are you doing this? Why?”

“I don’t like being undermined, not by anyone, but particularly not by a whore of a woman.”

“What have I done to you, Phillip? Tell me what.” He thought for a second.

“You know my secret.”

“What secret is that?” she asked, skeptical.

“You know I am unfaithful.”

“Do you think Maggie a fool? She has eyes, she knows what you do in your ‘spare’ time.” Proberta spit out the words.

“You know I can be cruel, heartless. Even Maggie doesn’t know everything about me, but you do. You saw it with your own eyes up in the heath, felt my hot breath against your neck.” He was breathing heavily now, gaining momentum. “And because you know that, you’ve taken them from me, my wife, my child.”

“But you don’t even love them, Phillip.”

“You don’t know who I love. Besides, that’s none of your business, is it now? The fact remains, they were part of my plan, and now you’ve ruined even that. It’s time someone taught you a good hard lesson, Madam.” He thrust himself against her making her gasp aloud, and kissed her ferociously on the mouth. He tasted of home-brew, tobacco and other women. She tried to pull away, tried to scream, but his mouth kept hers smothered, unable to release even the slightest yelp. Then he spit into the dirt, covered her mouth with his hand, and hauled her off into the bushes.


The Dirt

Posted on: November 26th, 2012 by Madison Lake No Comments



Hitting the streets to get some answers….



It’s a question as old as…well, as old as the telephone.  Or perhaps it started with the first love letter.  Regardless, it’s a question that has stumped people for a while.  From the guys in Swingers to Cher Horowitz in Clueless.  How long do you wait between getting the number and making the first call?

Rachel thinks this is very tricky.  “I want to feel like the guy wants to call me but too soon and it’s desperate,” Rachel said.  “Desperation is NEVER attractive.”  She thinks a lot depends on how you met and the vibe you had going.  If it was just talking at a party, the guy can wait a few days.  “If there was a heavy petting session, he better call the next day!”

Monica likes guys who call right away.  “My boyfriend and I met a mutual friend’s birthday party and he called me the next morning to make plans for that afternoon,” she said.  “Sometimes, you know right away that you want to hang out and get to know that person and it’s stupid to wait.”  Monica and her boyfriend have been together for 4 months now.

Ross thinks the agony of waiting to call a girl has not been exaggerated at all in films.  “It’s a f–king nightmare!” Ross told me.  “That’s why I love when women ask for my number, the ball’s in their court and I don’t have all that stress.”

Chandler disagrees and goes for the standard 3 day rule, come hell or high water.  “It’s part of the social contract, you wait three days and call,” Chandler explained.  “If either party breaks the contract, it’s weird.  I’d have to really like the girl to not be weirded out.”

Phoebe and Joey were the first couple I’ve ever interviewed for The Dirt and it was funny to hear them tell their meet-cute story.  They met through friends and Phoebe texted him the very next day.  When they went out on their first real date, Joey tried to tease her about it and she said “F–k you!  It was a text, doesn’t count!”  He really liked the way she “didn’t take any sh-t from me” and they’ve been dating over a year.

What do YOU think?