When I asked my guests to come up with a chatty post, I felt a little guilty because I knew I was asking a lot. (It’s tough coming up with an original blog post when you are asked to talk about the same book over and over again.)
I had not one lick of guilty with today’s guest, Inez Kelley. Inez has a natural chattiness, along with a wicked sense of humor. She recently had her first book, Jinxed, released by Samhain Publishing, but if you want a quick glimpse into her writing, she also has several short stories you can download for free. You can find them on her website –the freebies are here on the “Fun stuff” page. (Seriously, don’t miss that front page of her website, if for no other reason than the “Mancandy Flavor of the Week”. Yum.)
Inez has a natural talent for comedy. I discovered that when I read her first short story, To Cop a Kiss (it’s a link to a PDF – you’d do better to right click on it.):
The night air knifed through her thin t-shirt and pebbled her nipples into two hard points that no padded bra could hide. If she were wearing a padded bra. Hell, she wasn’t wearing a bra at all. Do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro…
(Try and read that last line without singing it, I dare you!)
So when I opened Inez’s email with today’s blogpost, I just about split a gut. When I told Gizmo Guy what Inez had written about, he said “Oooh, two of my favorite topics.”
Here’s another challenge – read Inez’s post and not snort at least once … I will give a warning though – it doesn’t happen often on this blog, but for those of you with tender sensibilities … there’s no bad language, but if the word nipples makes you squeamish, maybe you’d better not read anymore because … ah, heck, we’re all grown up here … consider it a scientific/medical discussion.
Happy Birthday Leah! I bought you a gift! It’s a fire extinguisher for your cake. All those candles have to be a fire hazard.
Kidding. I myself have stopped celebrating birthdays. Too depressing. Once your age gets above your bust measurement, it’s all down hill and sag-city. Or is that TMI?
Okay, change of subject.
Uhm…. Okay, I’m drawing a blank so back to boobs.
Women like myself, with olive or darker skin tone, don’t always have rosy tips or mauve crests. Nope. And women of color often range from cinnamon to blackberry. So why all the pink titty talk?
True story to show I have absolutely no embarrassment level whatsoever…
In college, a group of romance reading girlfriends and I were discussing this very thing and we compared. Of the four of us in the room, I was the odd one out. No pink here.
This disturbed me and I announced we were too small a pool to collect data from. So we (okay me with them trailing as backup) went door to door in the all-girl dorm asking the all-important question: What color are your nipples?
(I swear to God this really happened and anyone who lived in Gribble Hall during those years can verify this. Alcohol may or may not have played a small role in this tale.)
Pink was the majority, granted. However, college girls are not all known for their modesty and several snapped up their shirts to show us. The hues ranged from the palest blush of pink to cherry red, honey to milk chocolate, cinnamon to almost purple-black. A few guys visiting in the dorm thought this was hilarious and offered their skin tone to the mix and I swear, one of them had orange nipples— fat little dark orange circles. (I swear I am scarred for life there)
This led to an interesting and somewhat disturbing comment from one guy about the ‘tips matching the lips’. Now, I’m the lipstick queen. My natural lip color is far paler than my nipples so I scoffed at that statement. He wiggled completely bushy eyebrows and said those weren’t the ‘lips’ he was talking about.
Oh. Uhm. Okay, see, I have no problem asking random strangers what color their nipples are but there was no way in hell I was asking the shade of their nethers. Captain Morgan didn’t make enough rum for that round of Show-and-Tell. But I had no problem asking the guys about it.
They very vividly and excitingly described every cooter-color they had come across in their (most likely exaggerated) past. Many claimed those lower lips did match the nips. Others shrugged and said they closed their eyes while down there.
Well, good Lord, no wonder college boys have trouble finding the damn pearl while oyster diving.
I abandoned that line of questioning quickly. Some things I can live without knowing. *note: I am also avoiding the discussion on size of areolas*
With all this variety, why are so many pink pebbled peaks appearing in prose? (say that 5 times fast!)
I guess you could say that majority rules. I do try to offer a variety of tightened and taut flesh tones in my stories. I have coral ones, cinnamon ones, apricot ones, ones I even likened to strawberry jam (he was hungry, hush up). I have even described the ‘oyster’ as pink. But not always.
Variety is the spice of life. So I challenge romance and erotica writers to shake things up a bit. Have a berry bud, a tangerine tip, a caramel crest. Embrace diversity! Let go of the plain pink and delve deeper into skin tone. NIPPLE POWER!!
I think I need to up my meds a little.
Oh well. I amuse myself. And I don’t need batteries to do it.
(Frannie’s nipples are pink, BTW)
Happy Birthday and Happy Blogging, Leah! And oh yeah, commenters, I have a question to ask you…
What color are YOUR nipples? One random brave commenter will win a free download of JINXED in their choice of formats! Winner announced tomorrow by the lovely and luscious Leah Braemel!