Thank You to Webbweaver

On Saturday November 21, 2009 I had the honor of sitting down with the ladies from the Alabama Chapter of Bookend Babes. Among the members were the founders of the Webbweaver Review site, CK Webb and DJ Weaver. Also in attendance were Sonya Price and Tammie Lane. 

I was accompanied by my wife Tammy for this interview to round out a solid five women to one man. If that doesn’t scare you men out there then I guess you are more fearless than I am. 🙂

Tammy and I had gotten a room at the Tuscaloosa Hilton Garden Inn and the ladies were going to meet us there.  We thought and talked about video recording the interview, and then tossed that to the side as we all thought we would lock up with the added pressure of the video camera running. Instead we captured the audio portion of the interview, which turned out to be an excellent plan. Before the sit down interview, the ladies sent me a series of questions that I returned to them. We did not revisit those questions in the interview. 

To see the contents of the written Q/A please go to There is also a link at the top of that post for the audio interview. 

My heartfelt thanks go out to all the participants, and those that provided write in questions to WebbWeaver before hand. 

I appreciate everyone that participates in this journey as it unfolds. Specifically though, I would like to thank Claude Bouchard, Luke Romyn, Winslow Eliot, and Mike Cole along with CK and DJ. These folks all represent the new found friends from Twitter and I appreciate all the encouragement, support, and care each of them give me. 

Thanks Guys.  

Robert E. 


Wednesday Writing

Just a short little story for the night. Hope you like.
Robert E.
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The smell of the ocean lapping on the beach woke me from a dead-like sleep. I lay there for a few minutes just listening to the rhythmic pattern of the waves crashing just in front of me and the weakening crescendo as the wave rolled away from me down to the beach. The most natural of surround sound, I thought.
I opened one eye to see that sun must just be ready to crest over the horizon. Raising my head, I was able to feel the slight breeze on my face as the waves pushed the air forward ahead of them. With both eyes open now I saw the crimson of the rising sun blend into the blackness over my head. The stars were dimmer close to the horizon but still shining as they had at midnight overhead.
I sat feeling the breeze with the crashing and fading of the wave mixed with the sound of the palm tree leaves blowing behind me created a surreal feeling. The sun continued to rise into the sky and painted the low flying clouds a soft purple blending into pink on the opposite edge.
I leaned on my arms for as long as possible until my joints ached from the stiffness, but still I could not move. I was mesmerized by the magnificence of all that was happening. Just then, I heard footsteps coming from my right. I continued to stare at the beauty in front of me as the shadow approached. The crunching of the sand was the only way I knew someone was approaching.
Just as the sun made the full crest of the horizon and was a full circle of orange and white, I heard, “Where the hell were you last night?”
The shadow had materialized beside me. I turned and tilted my head to see the face of a highly irate woman.
“Sorry, do I know you?” I asked innocently.
“Do you know me? That’s your fucking question? Do you know me? Are you serious?” she blustered at me
as though I had done something wrong.
“I have no recollection of you ma’am, I’m sorry.”
“Jesus Christ Chow, really? You don’t know me?” she said placing her hands on her hips. “Let me give you a couple reminders. We’ve been sleeping together for three years, going out for four, and up until five minutes ago we were married. Just yesterday.” She screamed the last two words.
“Interesting. Even with those hints, I got nothing,” I replied as calmly as I could, it was obvious this woman was slightly touched.
“Chow McDuffin, I sat with you while you went through de-tox two years ago. I held cold wash clothes on your head to a make you feel better. I watched as you heaved until you bled from the ulcers.” She was speaking softly now, knowing without being told what had happened.
I turned from the woman and looked to see that I was wearing the pants from a tuxedo, the frilly shirt completely unbuttoned, no shoes, and one sock. Man I was a wreck from what I could see. I sat up and pulled my arms in front of me and saw that blood had run from my left inner elbow to my palm.
The last real thing I remember was seeing the sun rise from the horizon. There were no memories from before that instant when I was wakened from the deepest sleep of my life. It had been an all consuming sleep as there was nothing before the moment I woke up. I looked back to the woman and saw the flash of a man in a collar standing in front of me holding a book with a view of the ocean behind him.
I shook my head to clear and saw the woman again, now with some feeling of familiarity. Blinking once more to focus, I felt as I looked at her that I was comfortable. I saw the image of her naked, standing before me as she brushed her teeth.
“Cassie. Is your name Cassie?”
“Is my name Cassie, you’re brilliant Chow,” slivered from her lips with as much venom as a king cobra.

Oh shit, I do know her. But how did I get this blood on my arm, I thought.
Looking back down to my elbow an image flashed in my mind of a needle being inserted into my arm.
“Chow, I told you when you sobered up last time that if you ever went back to using again that I was done. I wasn’t kidding,” she said flatly. “Good bye.” Cassie turned and walked off with the flowing gown buffeting in the breeze behind her.
As I watched her walk off, it all became clear, all the pieces fit.
We had just finished our wedding ceremony and one of my old crew came up and asked if I wanted a fix to get through the stress of all the family and people. Initially I resisted, but as the drinks flew so did my judgment. At around eleven I caved and we went to the mens room and shared a stall. He pulled the fixin’s from his sport coat and cooked me up a dose as I watched and waited.
“You want me to hit you,” Steven asked.
“Yeah, I’m rusty as shit.”
“Pull up your sleeve and tie off then.”
As soon as he finished the injection I knew it was too much. He had given me his normal dose and I had been clean for two years. I wretched from the instant nausea as the dragon consumed my blood supply, spreading its own reality into my brain.
I left the mens room and walked out to the beach to watch as the moon created traces across the sky. The stars created a backdrop of fourth of July spark columns. The colors seemed smooth and soft and I felt myself reach-out to touch the sky it felt so close.
Now here I am, twenty four years old, with a pending divorce, and an addiction I have to kick all over again. It is the worst, most beautiful, day of my life.

“Dream State” Give Away Contest

Good Morning All…
As I have mentioned earlier in the week, I now have the proof copy of “Dream State” in my grubby little hands. And that means that soonly, it will be available for order via my author website, and other online retailers.
Here’s a little tease to show what’s in the book.
Kristi, on the other hand, had become one with her seat. She felt as
though she could feel the grain of the leather through her jeans, making
an imprint on her ass. She was very aware of her sensations, the
things she touched, and the things that touched her. It was as if she
could feel the different textures talking to her skin to help it understand
what it was supposed to feel. She had never felt this alive, this
sensitive, this aroused.
He walked through the circle of light on his side of the car and into
the darkness at the front of the vehicle; Drew made his way to her side
of the car and opened the door holding out his hand to help her get up
and out of the car. She reached up to take his hand and was astounded
at the softness of his skin, and how smooth it felt. In her current state,
all she could think of was his hands running all over her naked flesh.
“Thank you Will. I am really enjoying this evening. Thank you so
much,” she said as she leaned into the man to give him a kiss. She was
not sure if he was prepared and was more than willing, almost desperate
actually, to find out.
Drew leaned in and kissed her back. An action that provided her a
sense of relief. She was the first to test the waters with her tongue and
did so with light little feather licks to his lower lip slowly, so she
could feel the wrinkles in his lip and taste the Chai latte that had dried
there. Her tongue sprang to life at the taste of the pepper in the tea. It
provided a stark contrast to the sweetness of the tea she had been
drinking. The honey from the Chai mixed with her chamomile tea to
create an overly sweet sensation buffered by the spice of the tea. She
could not ever remember things being so sensitive, so real, and so
So, what’s the contest and what’s it gonna cost me?

Fair question. The contest is a give away of two, count’em, two signed copies of “Dream State”. The drawing will be held the day of the release, yet to be determined but assumed to be early to mid December. The only catch, You have to either be a follower of this blog, see the follow button on the left. Or, you need to be following me on Twitter.
The process is simple, become a follower of one of the two sites, and your name will go into a numbered list. Using a software tool I will generate two random numbers, and those two people will be notified of their winning.
Good luck to you all, I look forward to meeting the winners.
Robert E

Twofer Tuesday

The words have come when I didn’t know from where,
They seemed to be right there in the air.

That’s just a cool little set of words. And I have no idea where they came from. I was trying to write a post on the things I am grateful for. What a post that would be! Maybe later.

Bit of an update to start off Twofer Tuesday…

I was in shock and awe last night when I came home from running some errands with my bride. The proof copy of Dream State was delivered while we were out. Three years of story telling, polishing, editing, polishing, editing, reading, editing, and a year of that tied up in getting that parcel package sitting on my kitchen island to sit there. Three years of off and on writing, showing to friends the latest prose, trying poetry, three surgeries, a real death, doubt, frustration, and acceptance.

I looked at the plane cardboard cover and felt a lump build in my throat. What was inside represented in reality the proof of three years worth of effort. I say effort purposefully, because it certainly wasn’t work. I experienced more than I care to admit during that time frame, and regret not a second of it. I handed the package to my wife and asked her to open it, which she did.

The cover was astounding. My son designed that for me one night from a couple stock images I had found that I wanted used. He built the concept, the publisher did the fades on the font and wa la we have what will be released. I’m very proud of the work he did with it. I am in process now of reading word for word to make sure it’s as close to perfect as this bald headed chicken fornicator can make it.

Twofer Part Deux

Let’s call it an experiment, or you can call it me pimping my work by asking obvious questions that people have to read because they can’t believe someone would actually ask that.

A bit of back story… and this gets weird and I won’t be able to make every point in this post. Trust though that I will come back to it over and over again.

So here goes.

We as humans define ourselves by how much high and low we are willing to declare as acceptable. The examples of this concept are everywhere. Look at Einstein or Edison. Both men had to be able to face severe frustration, and failure to make the advancements they made. I’m not preaching religion, but regardless of your belief in Christ look at the pain he endured for as long as he endured it. What was the opposite of that? How grand must his reward have been. Edison left a legacy that literally changed the world, Christ left a legacy that is still worshiped to this day.

On another side of this look at addiction. Addicts exchange their life for the feeling of an altered state, one they decided they could not live without. Some make a different choice, some want to know more than that, experience the reality in all its stark contrasts rather than live in an altered state any longer.

So here’s the experiment, and you are the only one to know if it’s a success. Challenge yourself to find that one thing in your life you wish was more, whether its materialistic, mental or spiritual. Try something small. Probably not best to try something big first. Easing into this concept is best done slowly. Maybe you want more heat in romance, the opposite of that heat could be any number of things but for conversation let’s say that it’s tension. How much tension are you willing to experience to have your socks rocked off in the sack? What about fame? How much of your personal space are you willing to lose? If you want peace, how much strife are you willing to accept to know just as much peace.

To quote Forrest Gump “…momma said…”

Bonnie used to tell me “Bobby Gene, that shit that don’t kill ya will only make ya stronger!” and I’ll be damned if she wasn’t right.

Robert E