What a Day!

Jazz here. I’d like to thank all of you for the birthday wishes yesterday. I appreciate them very much and can assure you I spent very little time thinking about being 30. I spent very little time thinking, actually.

Thorny is limber, energetic, and my God is he getting creative. To those of you who are the authors supplying him with ideas via your books, seriously, God bless you. We both have goofy grins and a hitch in our gait today.

If you don’t visit the site, but maybe read the posts in your email or some other way, Thorny asked me to let you know there’s a poll on the sidebar. Thorny’s curious about the type of sex scenes readers most enjoy, so he’s got a little multiple choice thing going on over there. He said you can choose as many options as you want, but please only vote once. Which one did I choose? Since most of the time it’s Thorny reading aloud a sex scene, I’ll take whatever he’s willing to give. Usually because it’s like getting a script and, hell yes, if my little husband wants to play porn stars, I’m up for it.

We didn’t stay in bed the entire day for the obvious reasons that can’t be avoided, but also because there’s a motorcycle in the garage. If Mores does smile down on us when we’re on that gorgeous bike, I’m betting he had fun watching what we did on it while it was parked, lights off and garage door shut. Thank God the garage is connected to the house.

(For those of you who’d like a look at Mores through Thorny’s eyes, he’s reloaded a post from last year when Mores came to dinner one night after Thorny moved in with me. I truly cherish the memory of that night, and Thorny’s take on it in that post is priceless.)

Gifts! I almost forgot to tell you that Thorny got me several things to enjoy during my day of distraction. The biggest was a pair of black leather pants that lace up the front, back and both legs. Almost like chaps, really, if you leave off the optional panels. They went very nicely with the Harley. A couple new toys to play with that included what I thought was a leather wrist cuff. It does not cuff a wrist. I let him have a good laugh over that and then I had him wear it for a while. I just love the way he begs.

There were a few practical gifts, but we managed to make them naughty too. The sunglasses when combined with him in that cuff and me in those pants were what sent us down to the Harley, for example. My favorite orange marmalade that our local groceries stopped carrying for some reason (and which Thorny had to travel up hill both ways through a blizzard to find) somehow got combined with, well, him. I may never eat it off toast again.

Honestly, now that it’s come and gone, I’m not so upset about turning 30. I have so many of the goals I’d wanted to accomplish, like my own home, a good job, and an exceptional spouse, that the number is just a number. Mission accomplished, honey.