A Granny in Search of an Orgasm? otherwise known as Smouldering Embers!

My latest novel is a complete rewrite of Blazing Embers written seven years ago. I have taken note of the advice given by a top publisher and also by a top literary agent's reader. They suggested I reduce the ages of the top characters so as to appeal to a wider range of readers. In actual fact I have found the novel already has an appeal to a wide range of book lovers, especially of the Baby Boomer age but maybe this change will indeed increase the book's popularity. Justin James of Dare Empire has done a splendid job of the cover design and I look forward to holding the paperback version in my hand. (At the time of writing, it can be bought as a very cheap eBook at the Empire Bookstore and in different formats. Great news for booklovers, my other four novels are being offered at silly prices for a week or so to celebrate my new book!
So if you fancy reading about a young-at-heart granny in search of that orgasm so far denied her, now is the time to be enlightened about her circumstances and eventual progress.
It has been known for the reader to be educated too (one said that the book had changed his life!)
Andy O'Hara said: Wow. I don't say that often. Ms. Hobson's writing is quite good indeed. There's such a wistful, genuine quality to her style that it's hard not to be drawn in right away. Unpretentious — so nice to see that in writing once in a great while. Very unique, and very charming.
Bob Taylor said: I've read all four of Hobson's books, and I find that she has a delicate touch when writing about human sexuality. I don't normally read 'love stories', but those that Hobson writes are really interesting from a man's point of view — especially when she explores the male psyche. It's just a little bit... scary... that a female should have that kind of knowledge. She's a very gifted and articulate lady.
From the book:
"You see Alice, everyone's at it these days. Young folk do it openly but if we oldies did that in public they'd take us off and put us in care!"

Late night TV helps Alice realise what has been missing from her love life. Her hubby has benefited from forty years of satisfaction, time for her to experience an orgasmic encounter?

On TV chat shows, Silver-haired sex appears to cause great hilarity. WHY?
Mature lovemaking has much to offer: a lifetime of practice, plenty of time for preliminaries and, most of all, the freedom to have a good laugh when things go haywaire!

Of Chalk and Cheese, Childhood and Sex!

Being a mother, grandmother and great step-great grandmother, plus having spent some years as a teacher (including Reception) it is hardly surprising to have a deep interest in communication and the welfare of children.
We can learn a lot from little ones. The small child who volunteers his favourite soft toy to a hurting friend, the toddler who tries to give his comforter to the baby crying on the TV. Of course children, as they grow older, can also be jolly spiteful too and bite the hand of a playmate, or hit a pal with a toy. Were these children different when they were younger or did they lose their innocence? Exactly how much are children influenced by their environment?
My sister and I (two siblings left out of a family of six children) are totally different and always have been. We don’t look alike, we don’t speak alike, we rarely like the same things but we love each other dearly. Yes, as children we used to fight and argue. But being a little older than me she would look after me out there in the big bad world.
One Sunday, dressed in our best clothes, we were going for a walk. My sister stopped to see a friend while I watched older boys digging in a hole. Being nosy I wanted to see what they were getting out of the dirt. I soon found out. They called me over saying they wanted to show me something. Daft as ever, I did as asked. The boys stuffed worms up my sleeves, into my pockets and down my neck. I stood screaming like Violet Elizabeth from Crompton’s Just William. Come to think of it, those boys were rather like William! My sister came running to my rescue and her verbal attack put them to flight.
My sister often helped my dad with his repair work on engines and such, while I would be given sewing tasks, to do, trim my dad’s hair and be my mum’s hairdresser. From leaving school at fourteen, my sister picked up the swearing of her workmates. Not so me. I guess I took after my mum, apart from which I had witnessed the fury of my dad when he heard women (girls) swear! (He was pretty good at swearing himself but men were expected to swear.)
In a Reception Class you can see characters forming and that is a wonderful thing. So too, seeing their minds grow as they respond to teaching through word and their environment, exploration and discovery. What a shame much of what they learn as they grow older is far from life enhancing.
WE are born with certain drives to keep us healthy and ensure the continuance of the species. Are these drives traded on? Food is an obvious case. But has the whole of society, never mind children’s clothing, been sexed up and innocence lost? We see things on television that boggle the mind — not forgetting the other parts meant to be titillated. What is right and what is wrong? How can children judge these things when so much is thrown at them? How is that sex with children under sixteen is a criminal offense and yet we have so many young teenage pregnancies? Is it okay then for children to have sex with each other at a very early age but if one reaches seventeen then he or she is a criminal? The Pill was to solve the problem of unwanted pregnancies but it seems to have started a revolution of sexual freedom with young people pressed into sexual experience as many are into drink and drugs. Surely, ‘responsibility’ has been devalued, as has the joy of sex that goes hand in hand with lifetime loving partnerships. At least THIS is something we sisters are in agreement. Can’t think of anything else we totally agree about though!

Photograph — photo of us discussing the state of the country during our visit to Attenborough Nature Reserve (My sister lives many miles away and meetings are few.)

Of Gender and Choice

Every so often there is a debate about hereditary and nurture, and the parent's influence on a child's own sexual identity. It is said that girl babies are dressed in pink and boys are put in blue garments. Girls have dolls and boys get more mechanical objects to play with. I made most of my children's clothes and my mum-in-law knitted their jumpers and various outfits. In those days we did not know what the child's sex would be until the baby was born. I had a pile of clothes waiting for my babies, all of them blue, yellow or white. The hood of the pram was lined in a pretty blue simply because I thought it went nicely with the grey carriage. I am not keen on pink but I would loved to have had a girl child. I have three wonderful handsome sons. I made them dresses as it was best for nappy changing. I am amazed that tiny little ones are put in jeans as if they were mini dads (or mums for that matter). I enjoyed smocking and sewing their little garments. Stretch material was not available in those days and I wanted them to be comfortable. Once they were running around I made them little easy-iron shirts and shorts.
As far as toys are concerned, soft toys followed by constructive toys which they loved. Cars are loved by little children because they can manipulate them and make them move — brum-brum! Houses can be built and knocked down, cranes can be built and manipulated, blocks built up and knocked down, Leggo taken apart and constructed. Drawing, painting etc etc - boys and girls have the same. Teddy can have his arm bandaged whether the owner is boy or girl. If a son follows his dad that is natural. My sons can use a sewing machine but they don't normally sew — by choice. When my sewing machine stopped working my four-year old fetched me the correct fuse and changed it in the plug. He had watched his dad — his choice.
If parents turn their daughters into pretty-pretty girls in pink only, and, or, turn them into mini-sexy girls at too early an age it is rather silly and confusing. Children should be allowed to be children and play and get messy. To do the opposite and try to keep a neutral sexual identity is rather silly too. Let boys be boys and girls do their own thing too. My lads may have worn convenient little dresses when babies but they all grew up to be strapping lads AND engineers just like their dad!

Go Elsewhere For Poetry

Go elsewhere for poetry. I cannot perform to rules and styles. Usually my poems rhyme. When I was at school that is how we were taught, and that is how we were able to learn the work of the poets. Of course, I read pieces of prose that touch my heart and mind and I will think 'yes this is beautiful, truly poetic.'
Last Thursday, we drove up to the Lakes, coming home via Coniston Water. It had been raining most of the day but the showers cleared and the sun came intermittently through the clouds, turning sky and lake to a luminescent blue. So here is my attempt to avoid rhyme!
Poets sigh their blossoming thoughts
With words flowing from the heart
Yet straining to achieve the impossible
To outdo Wordsworth’s golden daffodils.
Blue heaven with white wispy hair
Sheds light in diamond clarity
On ripples whipped by a breeze
While whispering through green leaves
I hear Creation’s own poetry —
Nature’s ode to Coniston Water

The Dark Mirror now in paperback!

The Dark Mirror is now available in both Paperback and eBook formats. Go to The Dare Empire bookstore to view the book and order directly.

Beauty that is pure joy!

Sometimes pictures really do speak louder than words. But this is softly hushed lest the beauty fade

Giant Nettle Rash — urticaria

THE Royal wedding approaches and it has reminded me of my own wedding day. Of course there were incidents, which caused a little inconvenience but others of a more distressing nature.
I had a really bad cold sore appear on the Friday, which had to be disguised with make-up. No special cream to whisk it away in those days. But, the day before our special day my hubby-to-be was ill in bed. I don’t recall how the message came through, likely his landlady’s daughter called at our house to let me know. In those days only posh or professional people had telephones installed. Of course there were no mobile phones, it was many years before they appeared on the scene.
When I got home from work I rushed to the house where he was living and the landlady showed me up to the attic bedroom. No central heating of course but no doubt he had a hot water bottle. It was a dim room with dark furniture. My poor eve-of-wedding Galahad looked a sorry sight but doing his best to keep cheerful.
Giant Nettle Rash or Urticaria may be merely troublesome or most distressing. I have had a little of the former but my hubby has had large doses of the latter. This was one of those occasions. One eye was almost closed with a raised swelling and other weals were distorting his film star looks. He had a rather knobby appearance. He informed me that they were all over his body. The doc had given him antihistamine tablets and he said that, in spite of the high fever he was presently suffering from, he would be okay for the wedding.
Actually, he was not only well enough to be at our midday wedding, but he had been on the bus to the tailors in Nottingham to get his new suit and also to a store to get the present his parents were buying us. Yes, he was there waiting at the top of the aisle for his bride to be. Urticaria was still present but no one knew about it.
What had I been doing that morning? I was up at the reception room on the High Street, putting place names on the table and other little jobs. My sister turned up and asked what I thought I was doing, “Your hair’s still in curlers, the flowers have come and you’re getting married in an hour’s time! Get off home and get ready!”
My brother led me up the aisle, followed by my bridesmaids (my sister and a friend) and my dad was waiting at the front to give me away, My poor hassled mum was doing her best to relax and smile but the bride and groom were fine. Everyone sang well and the churchwarden declared our wedding to be the best they had that morning.
On this photograph who would have thought we had our little problems? Joy wipes away anxieties!