Limitations: I am reminded of them every day, as I age (yes, I am only thirty-seven-years old, but I’m also the mother of four teenagers, which in parent years is like eighty-six – at least that’s what it feels like), my hair turns grey and my body aches in places it shouldn’t.

The same can be said of writing (no, not the getting older part). Knowing your limitations as an author means knowing what you write best. What do I mean? I like telling stories – the one common thread that runs through my first book, After the Call (non-fiction) and my second, Stepmothers Anonymous (women’s fiction). Ultimately, I plan to stick with women’s fiction, though I have a handful of non-fictional sequels planned for After the Call. That said, when I delve into the women’s fiction/romances, I don’t plan to write anything erotic.

I can’t.

Several years ago, I was watching The End of the Affair with my mother-in-law. The only thing I knew about the movie was the plot, which sounded good; I was not aware of the graphic love scenes between the main character and his mistress. I’m not a prude by any means and if I had been sitting with anyone else, I might have enjoyed the movie, but being in the same room with my mother-in-law, who is like a mother to me, watching a man and a woman make love bordered on embarrassing.

Fine, it was totally embarrassing. As is the thought of knowing anything I write could be read by a family member or someone close to me could read. This is my limitation and I’m okay with it, because while I love romances and stories of love, I don’t believe they should focus on sex alone. Sex is great, but tales like that should be about intimacy, love and the ‘awwweeee’ moment; and this is just as often achieved outside of the bedroom as it is in.

Of course, this is just my humble opinion, but it is the direction I am taking with my career and I hope you will join me on the journey.

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