The Naughty Latte

I learned an important writing lesson today that I feel must be shared.


I spend most of my mornings at my local Starbuck’s writing. It was my husband’s suggestion…get out of the house and away from household distractions while I write. It keeps the child and pets away, plus the access to free refills of my favourite blonde roast is a definite perk as well (Don’t tell Tim Horton’s I said that though).


Well, today, I sat down at one of my favourite tables, put my ear buds in, queued up my writing playlist, and began to write a fairly steamy dream sequence. I was flexing my sexy, channeling E L James, Sylvia Day and every other erotica writer I’ve ever read. I ended up quite proud of myself, writing such material in broad daylight and in a very public setting. It was almost…dare I say…naughty.


Then I felt someone’s fingers tap me on my shoulder.


I looked up to find a stunningly gorgeous gentleman standing behind me, right by my shoulder. His mouth was moving, but I still had my tunes blaring away in my ears so I could not make out what he was saying.  I grabbed at my ear buds frantically as I attempted to lower the screen of my laptop slowly, so as to keep the naughtiness that had been flowing from my brain out of his line of sight. Apparently the handsome South African (yes…he had an accent) was having difficulties with his internet connection, and was wondering if I was having the same problem. Because from what he probably saw, he figured I was using the internet to surf for porn. I said that no, I had not run into any problems with my connection, and then we both went our separate ways…he back to his table, and me out to my car.


And this brings us to today’s writing lesson. There is a time and a place for writing erotica. Starbuck’s, apparently, is not the place. Or it could also be that if you do write at Starbuck’s, make sure your back if safely against a wall.


Til later.

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