Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon?” ― Pablo Neruda, The Book of Question

I look out my window a lot.

​It’s just one of those things that keeps me grounded in this weird, one-with-nature kind of way. I hate curtains. They only gather dust. And I hate alarms even more. I enjoy the natural light to whisper across my face in the morning with gentle fingers, not some man-made sound that jars me into life with a harsh slap. It is the quiet moments of the morning that I savor most, in bed, looking out my window. It’s when I write my best work.
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Yesterday morning, I awoke to a brilliant rainbow. At first, I marveled at the sky’s pink hues, and I thought how soothing it was. I haven’t had that feeling in a long time, that feeling of being at peace with myself or my life. I got out of bed to pull back the curtains just a bit more, the color peeking through the leaves of the oaks outside my window. Where I had been seeing grey for quite some time shone now pink. The color is hard to describe accurately. It was pink; but it bordered on a light red. It told me to come look at it... To continue reading, please visit the post here: R.B. O'BRIEN'S BLOG

I. Am. Me. "It don't matter what my name is. I'm not famous and I don't hate it."

I wanted to share another teaser with you today from the second book in my Thorneseries, Rose’s Dark Secret, really my favorite in the series so far. The first I loved—as it came out of another series I had published on literotica that was quite popular--but the second, for me, really starts to unravel the complexities of the characters, their psyches, their layers. Nothing is ever what it seems, is it? True. And neither am I.

​Please don’t laugh at me. "I'm not famous...It don't matter what my name...and I don't hate it." But I have a confession to make. Okay. It’s not really a confession per se (but now that I have your attention), here it is: I’m kind of sort of just a little bit proud of myself. Yup. There. I said it. And I don't care how small my accomplishment is. I'm going to embrace for one moment.

Only a few short months ago last February I started my journey into self-publishing. I had absolutely no idea how to do any of it. Rewind a year before that. I signed with a small epublisher to share my story of Natalie with the world, and I was even a bit more clueless then.  No Twitter. No Facebook. No website. I had to start all of that myself. Slowly but surely, things grew. Add in a newsletter, a blog, a writing support group known as the WPW, and now video teasers, I truly have come a very long way.

Some of it has been super rewarding. I’ve met great people and friends, have seen my audience and fans and sales grow, and have a safe outlet to explore my kinks, my fantasies, and my creativity. I look forward to creating teasers, writing posts and tweets and blogs, and working to write my next work or if I’m being honest, works.

Some of it hasn’t been....

To finish reading and to see my HOT AUDIO TEASER, visit: MY WEBSITE here.

There's just something about a voice--call me American...

What is it that makes a woman go all gooey when she hears certain voices? Is there just something aesthetically inexplicable in certain timbres? In cadence? Is there something scientific that happens? When we think about the old adage--Beauty is in the eye of the beholder--does the same apply to voices? Does what sounds sexy to one, grate on the other?

I, myself, am not sure about my own voice. I'm from Massachusetts. I have a gravelly voice that I find anything but mellifluous, the word monotone is not in my vocabulary, and I was kicked out of the radio program in college because I couldn't keep the needle in the middle of the Richter scale. Some say they find my voice sexy. I wonder about that! But studies have shown that males with deep voices are the most coveted. Erotic writer translation: Deep voices melt the panties right off of heterosexual w

omen. Just look at one of the most sought-after narrators like Morgan Freeman, who admits: "The lower your voice is, the better you sound.”

Throw in a British accent for we American women and all bets are off. Suddenly, even the reading of a grocery list can make one weak in the knees. Eyes roll into the back of our heads, our legs cross and uncross trying to become comfortable against the little pulse that suddenly starts to beat in that one place, our faces flush with a heat that consumes us, and coherent, intelligent chit-chat? Wait? What were we talking about? Exactly.

To read the rest and to hear the sexiest teaser read for my book Thorne: Rose's Dark Contract (Book 1), click here: MY BLOG