Life Is Like A Cup Of Coffee

“There’s only two things in this world that a real man needs: a cup of coffee and a good smoke.” Johnny Guitar (1954) – Johnny (Sterling Hayden)

This short clip below says a lot, putting life into prospective. Please, take time to read and listen. I would give anything to know who its author is and ask a million questions, but if one reads and ponders what is written, the answer just might be there, depending on what you are searching for. It’s crazy, but I would have picked a simple white cup. Why? Because that white cup is simple and plain and just as important. There’s nothing like holding a hot cup of coffee in the palms of both hands and running your fingers over it’s steamy rim. Inhale deeply and the aroma takes you away, a smile flits across your face and for one moment, in a likewise busy day, you forget everything, feeling satisfied. My grandmother always started her day with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Now I know why. I admire her wisdom over a cup of coffee.

~A.C. Rae


Friend Forgotten

I am in that temper that if I were under water I would scarcely kick to come to the top.

~ John Keats

Half naked, she stepped to the water’s edge of the murky river. The moonlight glistened on the water as she could see her way, picking around the rocks and going in deeper.

This is how it happened for him too, except it was by a stoning that forced him to the water’s edge. Hers was of free will.

She looked up to the bright full moon. “We belong together”. She whispered as the tears streamed down her face. She sat on a large rock sticking out of the water and lowered her head onto her bare knees and cried.

“Why did they do this to you? Why did they force you to the water’s edge naked and cold throwing stones at your thin white body? You never did anything to them, but they hated you just because you were different.” She cried in despair.

She raised her now shivering body to standing and looked back up at the stars. “All you ever were to me was kind. Was it because you understood that I am different too? Was it because I accepted you for who you are?”

She looked back down into the murky water. This had to be the very spot where he was forced to go into the water to make the pain of bullying go away. The stones had cut his naked body deeply, bleeding. She couldn’t even imagine his pain as the cold water engulfed his painful body. What did the water do for his painful mind? Did he cry out? Did he accept his fate and welcome the cold dark waters to envelope his dying body? Did he give in as he scarcely kicked at the jagged stones on the river’s bottom until he had drifted out so far that he couldn’t touch bottom anymore?

It was easier to give into his fate. To make the pain go away. The pain of being different. The pain of being bullied. Even his family despised him, but he found only one true friend and she was standing at the water’s edge.

“Please. Take my pain away.” She barely squeaked out the words and continued forward into the dark, cold water of the river.

Chad, I will never forget you.

Rest In Peace, my friend. Your pain is gone and mine lives on.

~A.C. Rae

A Shitty Lay

A friend and I were talking just the other day about orgasms. What brings up a subject like that you ask? Well, it was random. He had switched topics to talk about a woman he had met.

“Did you have a good time? Is she pretty? Sexy?” I asked almost too anxiously.

“Oh, yes. We were instantly attracted to each other. I thought she was hot.”  He smiled.

“Well, then what?” I was anxious to hear the down and dirty.

“I took her to bed.” 

I giggled. “Good for you Hun. You need a good lay.”

“Um, well.” His hesitation surprised me.

“Let me guess. She was a shitty lay.” I chuckled, but he was serious.

“No. She was great, but she didn’t cum.” He looked at me with disappointment.

Now I was perplexed. Not by the fact that this woman didn’t have an orgasm, but why was it so important that she did. So I asked him that.

“I worked hard to get her to cum. She was wet the whole time and she felt so good, but she didn’t cum.”

I thought more about this.

“So is having an orgasm the single most important thing in having great sex?”

“Yes. It tells me that she is satisfied.” He said.

Now I wonder if all men feel this way. Young men I assume don’t care because they just want to get laid. Older men, on the other hand, may be more interested in satisfying their woman.

“How did she feel?” I asked.

“She said it did not bother her. That she felt satisfied with just having sex with me, making me feel good and that it was good for her too.”

“So why wouldn’t that be good enough? She obviously was ok with it and you made her feel good.” 

“But she didn’t cum.” 

This gave me a lot of thought. So this woman didn’t orgasm. She was totally okay with it, but he wasn’t. I wondered how she truly felt. Was she disappointed in herself? Disappointed that she wasn’t as amazing as his other lovers and she wanted to be his best? Did she feel like a failed lover? How many women feel this way?  I asked my husband about woman and orgasm. He agreed with my friend. An orgasm is the most important thing to having great sex. This took me by surprised. But my husband did say that if the woman felt satisfied regardless, than this is okay. It is whatever she wants.

I really want to know. What else makes for great sex. Intimacy? Foreplay of any type? Kissing? I would love to get more ideas from my readers. No holes barred here, I am open and honest and there is nothing embarrassing to me in discussing issues on sex. I would really love to learn more on the emotions of sex. Sure I could look it up on the Internet, but I would rather hear from real people. Your thoughts, ideas, stories, anything. Please let me know and if there is something of a more private issue, shoot me an email at 

What does it mean to be a shitty lay? An amazing lover? The difference between ok sex and great sex?  Are you disappointed with sex? I need to know. My mind is always in need of information, loaded down as it already is, I can’t stop asking questions.

On a personal note to my friend’s one night stand…..It’s okay Hun. I bet you are an amazing lover! 😉

A.C. Rae








Birthday Spankings and Midlife Crisis

Birthdays. Some of us love ‘em, some of us hate ‘em. Either way, they come once a year whether we want them to or not. I never got my panties in a bunch over having a birthday, but lately, I wouldn’t mind if time could slow down for a bit. It seems like it was just a year ago that I had a birthday, not celebrated a birthday but had a birthday. I don’t remember exactly the last time I celebrated my birthday. Come to think of it, I don’t even remember the last time someone baked me a birthday cake. Although the thought of adding yet another candle on the cake is just another reminder that I have grown another year older so I’m ok with not having one. It also saves me money on having to buy a birthday cake Class C fire extinguisher. 

 How old am I? It doesn’t matter. I have fooled a lot of people. They have guessed my age at 24, 26, 33, 36, never older than that. I just say yep, I’m that old. My daughter, bless her teenage heart, said to me one day, ”Mom I think you are having a midlife crisis.” WTH? How old do you have to be to have a midlife crisis? No one has ever told me what age I have to be to have one of those. I haven’t even been through menopause, dammit! Ok. So does a midlife crisis start at the age of 33, 36, 40?  If you live to be 100, then you will have a midlife crisis at the tender age of 50.

 What defines a midlife crisis I wonder? Is it buying a red Mustang Convertible and blaring rock music while you exceed the speed limit down the highway? A gym membership because you have just realized that at your age, you better start losing weight and get in shape before you’re the next heart attack statistic at age 30 something? OR maybe wanting to do things that you have always dreamed of, a renewed passion that erupted from the back of your mind when you pondered what do you really want out of the rest of your life? I found love and pleasure from writing my books.  

 Now that my two daughters are growing into young adults, I realized I have my life back, but in a different way. There is no doubt I have enjoyed my two daughters lives from before birth to present. Every milestone was special. We created millions of memories. Now that has changed. Their milestones and memories will be different as they turn into young adults. My daughters have blossomed into beautiful young women. We laugh and play around all the time. I am blessed by having two of the funniest girls in my life and there is never a dull moment when we get together. My daughters are truly my BFFs!

 So now what? One daughter is just newly on her own and the other will be after graduation next spring. What is there left for me to do? No more dance competitions, sporting events, plays, choir concerts, piano and violin lesions, a billion fundraisers for sports and church. I will have my life back, but this time, it will include two adult daughters just learning how to make their way into this world and as their mother, it is my loving duty to guide them through this new journey. After a day at the mall, pedicures, manicures and sushi lunch, we will go our separate ways, back to work, school and a new life.

 This brings me to birthday spankings. My birthday is this Saturday, December 17th. I prefer an extra birthday spanking over an extra birthday candle any day. With our daughters out on their own and we now have an empty house, my husband and I will have all the time in the world to chase each other around giving birthday spankings!

So how old am I? I’m the new 20 baby! 😉

 If you are celebrating a birthday…..HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

 A.C. Rae


Why I Write

“The greatest living experience for every man is his adventure into the woman.” D.H. Lawrence

 Yep, it’s me, Ranae, sassy country girl blogging. If anybody told me a year ago that I would have written two books and several short stories or even have a blog, I would have laughed. But truthfully, I have wanted to write the stories rumbling in my head for years. With the encouragement of friends and fellow writers from Twitter, I plunged into my dream. Yes, I twitter and you wouldn’t believe the wonderful friends that I have made there. Thank you Lisa and Elle for the gentle, supportive nudge to move ahead and create this blog. Wait. It wasn’t that gentle, I remember! Check out these funny ladies at

 These past 10 months have brought about many amazing changes. I started my first book December 2010, a story I loved writing, re-reading, editing and critiquing. I joined Twitter in January 2011, which opened up many new things for me. I learned more about writing from very talented writers and reading their blogs. They share their tales of failures and comebacks and the long road to writing success. Many have invited me in their circle of fun, support and writing. By the end of March I was writing a murder mystery and by spring more short stories were either written or in my mind waiting to burst out on word doc. By summer my list grew, not only my writing, but my twitter friends as well. We socialize on a daily basis for fun and for support. I love to see the continuing support authors give each other and I am humbled by how they include me as a writer in their circle.

 My dream is to publish my books and short stories. In the beginning, all I really wanted was to just write, to see if I could do it. Then I started thinking about how much I really wanted to see my first story in book form with a cover and my name on it. Even if it goes nowhere or maybe purchased by my amazing followers, at least I could hold my masterpiece in my hands and be proud of my accomplishment. Yes, I would love to share these stories with anybody who loves romance and a murder mystery, but it is only fair to warn you that every story will have some form of erotica in it. It’s just the way I work. It’s what makes me happy.

 During this venture of mine I have learned that people are afraid to let their sexual desires be known, to talk about sex and how they really feel about it. You want to be touched in that naughty place, but too afraid to express your desires, so you read about them. You secretly want to be excited by what you read so you continue to read on. You have to know what is going to happen next because you want to feel it too. You hold back your sexual desires because you are afraid of what your partner may think or how it may surprise even you. Or are you just afraid you are going to love it that much?

 Why erotica? I have read hundreds of books in my lifetime. I have read a wide range of genre. I love romance the most. Often I would read a romance novel and the author would do an amazing job of building up the passion and the want and the need. Then I would feel so let down when the only thing that the author wrote after the “hook up” was, “And they spent a wonderful, passionate night together.” Sorry. That doesn’t do it for me. I want detail. I want to read what the character is feeling during this passionate night. I have read before, “write what you want to read” and so I took that to heart. At first I hesitated writing explicit details or even using the “F” word, mainly for fear of shocking my mother into a heart attack and what other family members might think of me. I thought to myself, “why am I doing this? Why am I concerned with what other people might think? This is for me!” So I changed my way of writing and love it even better. I will also give credit to author Amelia James. She taught me that it’s okay to come out of the “trashy closet” and when it comes to erotica, write what you truly want to write and what makes you happy. Thanks Amelia for your encouragement! Check her out at

 My characters have emerged from my dreams, overactive imagination, daydreams and others who inspire me. I love to give my characters life. I have enjoyed doing research in order to give them a sense of who they are and where they come from. These are characters you will love to meet and fall in love with. My muses are sexy hot and badass, sensitive and compassionate. They have awakened me in the middle of the night and kept me up for hours with their playfulness, stubbornness and their hot sex escapades. I daydream for hours about their antics and tragedies. I can’t help it; they are in my subconscious whispering to me to tell their story. That is why I write.

 Now to break it gently to my friends and family!

 ~A.C. Rae

Please come back again. I will introduce you to the many writer friends that have been there for me and with some luck, entertain you with a post or two!

Check out my writer friend J.D. Our conversation on the subject of the misunderstood writer inspired her to write this really good post! Thanks J.D.!