I am a romance author. A bona fide, published by a NYC publishing house, romance novelist.* My books are loaded with innuendo and panty-melting sex.

Words are my bitch.

But when it’s time to put my spectacularly dirty vocabulary to work in real life? That, my friends, is unexpectedly problematic.

By all rights, I should be making conquests left and right on the interwebs. Couples should be lining up to meet us. Panting to see what we can do when clothes come off and shit gets real.

Strangely enough, though, when I’m faced with a blinking cursor and a directive to type something sexy, I get tongue-tied. Instead of telling my potential partners how I’d love to slowly peel their clothes off, licking and sucking on erogenous zones they didn’t even know they had until they have no choice but to cage me within their arms, pressing me into the sheets with their hard bodies until they can catch their breath and return the favor, I find myself saying things like:

“Hope you had a great weekend. Ours was pretty boring, but we did take some fun pictures!”

Really, girl? That’s the best you’ve got? The fictional heroines I write would be appalled.

And let’s not even talk about flirting IRL.

I mean, I’m good at making friends.  Wanna talk about your kids, your life, your travels? I’m here for you. I’m not even shy about talking about sex. In theory.

Hell, if the person I’m chatting with starts the sexy talk, I can play along. I’m trained in improv. I can “yes, and” all day long.

I’m just not one to start the conversation down that path. And if you’re being subtle? Forget about it. I will not pick up what you’re putting down.

I got no game, is what I’m saying.

I guess that’s to be expected when you’ve spent twenty plus years in a monogamous relationship and are more used to being known as a sexless mom than a sexy bitch.

And I’m sure that’s one of the many reasons why the more established couples in the lifestyle are leery of newbies like me and Bruce.

But hopefully, someone will reach out and provide a guiding hand. I’ve got plenty of sexy stories to share. I just need to get through this stupid awkward phase.

Wish me luck?

*I didn’t write those novels under this name. So no, you can’t read them. Sorry!