So, I’m going to share with you something I don't normally share much - though my characters share their sex lives with you often and graphically. Several of them are quite the exhibitionists!

But we're not here to talk about the boys, the men, and the demons, we're here for me. Now, people tell you all sorts of less-than-fun things when you get married, about how life in the bedroom slowly diminishes and all of that. But it's not true for us. Three years has already flown by, and everything is better than it ever was.

Cris isn't here, he's in Canada (you lucky people, he's over there programming fun military simulators), and in our bedroom, four weeks is a damn long time to sleep alone. His side of the bed is cold and empty, and as I understand it he too is sleeping only on 'his' side of the bed in the hotel. If this was that sort of movie, they'd cut the film and make a montage of us sleeping face to face but missing each other deeply.

Last week, my husband reported to me an interesting thing. He woke up in the morning... naked. He always sleeps in boxers (I'm the nude one). I joked he was missing me in his sleep, and he admitted that when he had awoken, he had found that, whilst asleep, he had rearranged the spare pillows onto my side of the bed, and slept cuddled up to them as though I was there. Oh how my heart aches.

This morning, I had a far more rude awakening. Not being jumped on by the dog, worse than being awoken by the screams of the teething Goblin, but being jolted into consciousness by my brain, at just the moment when I desired no such thing. It was a good dream: Cris was there, we were kissing in that fantastically warm and lazy manner one does in the middle of the night when neither of you are quite fully awake. It was incredibly vivid, the feel of his tongue, the familiar warmth of his body, and just as my hands were exploring the delicious heat south of his navel, my brain kicked me in the gut and forced me awake.

Great, I’m being cock-blocked by my own subconscious. Fucking wonderful.