Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Interview With a Healer

Healing Hands:

Fascinating Research for my New Novel



I have recently started a new erotic horror novel set in the same world as Inn on the Edge. Dahlia, my earnest and good-hearted main character, enters an Institute that teaches Curative Touch and soon finds herself tangling with Sex Demons. They manipulate her into helping them with their dark, twisted ulterior motives. Along the way, Dahlia will discover that she is a talented sexual healer. And, to make her choices even harder, she'll fall in love with a young Sex Demon.
The book is coming together - but I have so many questions: What exactly is touch healing? What sorts of maladies can a touch healer help with? What does society think of what they do? I am especially interested in what the healing feels like from the healer's point of view.
I had to interview a touch healer.
Gloria - a pseudonym - is a real person. She is a lovely massage therapist I've known for several years. I only recently learned that she has studied healing touch extensively, and has untold hours of hands-on experience. Her healing work is separate from her massage therapy work. I was thrilled when she agreed to this interview.





~~~The Interview~~~

Me: What is your background?

Gloria: I am a practicing massage therapist, with the anatomy and physiology coursework required for licensing in the State of Washington. I also study such things as herbal remedies, cranial-sacral massage, infant massage, and more. I also am very interested in Maya Healing techniques, and have attended several in-depth workshops in Central America with native Maya healers. I am always educating myself, incorporating everything I can into my work. I do not reject Western Medicine - I just feel like there are other, ancient, more gentle methods that are beneficial alongside it.

Me: Can you tell me how you approach a healing?

Gloria: First, I do "triage" - I listen to what the person wants, then decide if that's what they really need. For example: a person might want me to work on their knee, they might tell me it aches and hurts and can I please, please help with it. Well, I might or I might not work on the knee itself. I have to see if the knee joint is actually where the problem stems from. The patient doesn't always know. I'll do an evaluation. It may be that I'll decide that it is really the hip joint that needs work and not the knee.

Me: Do you prepare yourself emotionally before a session?

Gloria: Good question. I do prepare myself, I do have rituals. If I didn't, I could easily become overwhelmed, and if that were to happen, I wouldn't be much help to anyone.

Me: What are your rituals?

Gloria: I need barriers. I need to separate myself from the work. Rituals help. I have a calming, cleansing hang-washing ritual that I've used for years, using herbs and spring water and a pouring vessel that has special meaning to me. I wash my hands after every healing, outdoors if at all possible. Of course I constantly do hygienic hand-washing also, for obvious reasons, but that's different. My ritual hand-washing is deeper, more emotional, not meant to clean, but to spiritually cleanse.



Me: Any other rituals?

Gloria: I put myself into a different mind-space when I heal. To do this, I always change into my "practitioner clothes" - which is soft, comfortable clothing that I only use for this purpose. I don't do a healing in my everyday street clothes, it doesn't give me the emotional separation I need.

I prefer to do the healings in a quiet, secluded spot, preferably the same place every time. This applies for massages also. If this isn't possible, then I pay extra attention to my rituals.

Me: Is there anything you find especially difficult?

Gloria: Yes. People's need can devour you if you let it. I can't give people in need everything they ask for. One of the hardest things I learned was how and when to hold part of myself back.

It's not something I like to talk about, but there are the rare people that I call "Black Pits". I have to be super careful not to let this sort of person's problems rub off on me or overwhelm me. "Black Pit" people can have a miasma of upset and hurt hanging to them, troubles so powerful they seem capable of clinging to other people as well. That is why I find it necessary sometimes to hold myself behind careful barriers.

I do want to point out that these "Black Pit" people are not the same as the "people in need" I just mentioned. I also want to point out that in both cases, the hardest part is not being able to completely stop their pain.

Me: What does the healing feel like, from your perspective?

Gloria: Sometimes, if I'm having a really good day, I can read a person a bit. This is a sense of feeling what's inside of a person, inside their body. Sometimes I can feel problem areas with my hands before even touching a person, just from passing my hands above their body. It feels rather like a hot spot. This is something I've developed with time and practice. I'm pretty sure that, if I wanted to, I could work on this skill enough to be able to find tumors. There are healers who can do this, who are tumor hunters. But I'm not at that point.

When I first started, I discovered that I could sometimes read a person and know their soul, know everything about them. But I quickly understood that it was too much. It was an invasion of their privacy. It was too much information for me to deal with, too overwhelming, too many things that I didn't want to know about a client. So I trained myself not to "look" at a person that way. I haven't done that kind of looking into a person for twenty years.



Me: What else do you find helpful to your work?

Gloria: Timing is crucial. I have to stick to hour-long sessions. When I first began, I would let sessions with friends and clients get away from me. Sometimes they'd go for hours and hours. Some of the longest sessions were four or five hours long, which was ridiculous. It was a breach of boundaries and a terrible expenditure of healing energy. I didn't understand at first that over-doing it would make me feel sick the next day.

The exception to the time limit is when I'm studying. Sometimes I do special healing workshops where the healing sessions are allowed to be much longer, so students can explore these same issues in a controlled environment.

Me: How about sexual healing? Have you ever heard of that?

Gloria: Absolutely. There is a huge population of healers, and some of them do sexual healing and take it very seriously. And yes, some of them have sex with clients as a valued part of their work. Look up "sexual surrogacy" to find information about sexual healers.


Thank you to Gloria for allowing me this glimpse into the workings and inner thoughts of a healer. As well as being fascinating, you've shared invaluable information which will be a great help to me in my writing. You can put your hands on me anytime.


Friday, January 24, 2014

Conversations With My Muse

Conversations With My Muse       



Her name is Eloise. She wears a lopsided grin, has sparkling eyes, carries a lumpy shoulder bag, and breathy words tumble from her so quickly that when she really gets going I have to pay close attention or I’ll miss the good stuff – that is, when she is in the mood to speak. Sometimes she barely talks at all.
I recently caught up with her, sat her down at my kitchen table with her favorite Chamomile tea, and asked for an interview. Luckily, it was a talky sort of day.
“An interview?” she says, “If you insist. But really, dear, I think you should work on that new story I’ve been pitching to you.”
“I will,” I say, wondering: which new story? The one about the Carnival of Earthly Delights? Or the one where aliens come to earth for some hands-on sex education because they've forgotten how to make love? It doesn't matter which. Eloise is waiting for an answer. So I do. “Okay. I’ll work on a new book, I promise. But I have a deadline. I need to write a guest blog post – an interview – and I want to interview you for it. Okay?”
She nods and sips, then nods again. “I’m your Muse. I’m at your service.”
But her words have an edge to them. Does she think I’m wasting her time?



“Okay,” I sputter, “thanks, Eloise. First question – how did you become a Muse?”
She stares at me, her head tilted. “You ought to know the answer to that, Gail.”
“Huh?”
“You asked for me, and I came.”
“I did?” I glance at the slip of paper where I’ve written my list of questions. It seems blurry. “I didn’t know that.”
Eloise grins, softening. “You did. Like all Muses, I appear where I’m most needed. I stay as long as there is work for me. I give as much as my client – you – want from me, or can accept.” She puts her teacup on a saucer, then leans forward. “Understand? For now, I’m yours. Tomorrow, who knows? You may throw up your hands and swear off erotic fiction. You might decide to write a book about… oh… politics or something dreadful like that…something about which I know nothing!” She snorts, a most un-ladylike sound. “My dear – if you were to do such a thing, I’d be of no help to you whatsoever! I’d be forced to watch from the sidelines!”
“Really?” My voice sounds almost as breathy as hers.
“Gail. Listen. I truly adore collaborating with you. This has been, without a doubt, the best work I’ve ever done. You and I do marvelous things together! But, alas, I have no say in the matter. What happens to me is in your hands…”
I don’t know how to respond. This isn’t going the way I’d planned. “Um…I’m not going to write any political books,” I finally manage.
She sits back, looking relieved. “What’s the next question?”
I consult my list, but nothing seems relevant anymore. Flustered, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Um…where do you get your ideas?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I’m aware of how lame they sound. How many times have people asked me the same thing, and every single time, I think, couldn’t you come up with something more original?
“Gail!” shrieks Eloise, making me jump. “Where do I get my ideas? Seriously?”
Suddenly – lame question or not – I want to know her methods so badly I feel my insides clench. How does she do it? Is it as hard for a Muse to dredge up ideas as it is for me? Maybe I can learn a thing or two from a professional idea-generator. “Yes! Ideas!” I say, excited. “Will you tell me? Please?”
She laughs then. “I get them from you!”
I can only stare.
“They’re your ideas, my dear. I glean what’s in your mind. I polish them up, toss out the appalling ones, maybe throw a twist into the better ones, maybe not – but that’s all! I do a bit of this and that – and then I send your ideas straight back to you!”
“Oh,” I say.
She snorts again. “You have quite the imagination. I simply adored the sex-in-the-Olympics thing! America’s Darlings...” She pretends to fan herself. “Whew! Hot book, that one.”
“Uh – thanks.”
Her cheeks have a rosy hue I’ve never noticed before. “Any more questions? Ask away.”
“No thanks.” I’ve lost control of this interview, but it hardly matters. “I’m good.”
She tilts her head. “You are good. All you need is to believe in yourself!” And then, in a flash, she’s gone.
She does that sometimes. At the precise moment when ideas are flowing and I’m immersed in a story, following characters down paths I never envisioned, enjoying the creative act of writing more than anything else in the world…she just up and disappears on me.



Eloise. Who is she, really? She’s at my service…she gets her ideas from me…she stays only as long as she’s needed…she adores my books…hey – I’m not an idiot! The truth is I don’t want to know. I won’t ask any more questions of my Muse because I have no intention of ruining my personal bit of magic. I like things exactly the way they are. Me. Eloise. My laptop. An idea, unfolding a word at a time, forming and growing and taking on life. I’m content. She’s mine.

And I adore being a writer.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

A Sneak Peek At My New Novel



OVER THE EDGE
by Gail Bridges
(an in-process erotic horror novel)


I'm in the process of writing yet another deliciously chilling erotic horror novel! It features the same dangerous Sex Demons - or friends of theirs - that we met in Inn on the Edge. This new novel is set in an old converted warehouse in Seattle...sound good so far?

an abandoned warehouse goes from this...
...to this

But wait - it gets better! Dahlia has one burning desire in life, and that's to heal people with her hands alone, using Therapeutic Touch. Unfortunately for her, the Institute of Curative Touch she's just been admitted to is run by sex demons who have no intention of teaching her to heal. What they teach is much more sinister - only she has no idea she's being used.



There it is, folks! I'll be spending the next several months pecking away at my laptop, my mind on one thing and one thing only. I'll write updates as I go along.

Thanks, and happy reading!

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Gift Boxes for Two Lucky Winners

Oh, my.

Has it really been almost a month since I last posted something? I suppose I've been super busy, what with the holidays and visits from grown kids and a new book release and everything else.

I did something just now that was a first for me. Ten minutes ago I packed up the two knitting-themed gift boxes that were awarded in the giveaway for my America's Darlings Book Tour raffle. (Leah, the main character, is a champion knitter.)  I'll be off to mail the packages after lunch.

The surprise? I seriously enjoyed imagining how thrilled the lucky winners will be when they open the boxes and pull the stuff out. It was a nice fuzzy feeling for a rainy, cold Seattle morning.

Congratulations to Tanya Johnson and to Tori Whitaker!

The Gifts:
A Sampler Scarf pattern, two skeins of yarn, knitting needles, tea, and chocolate.
(I had so much fun choosing these gifts!)


Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Adventures in Storyland


...And now, for something different!

I have a special treat today to celebrate the fifth day of Inn on the Edge. A romantic holiday letter, from Angie to Josh (the main characters of the novel), six months after their breathless escape from the Inn on the Edge Hotel and from the sex demon who held them captive there. Enjoy!




My Dearest Josh,

I've been in my studio trying to paint all morning, but I couldn't get anything done because I kept thinking about you. I miss you so much! I know you had to go to this training conference for your new job - but it's crazy hard to have you gone for two weeks. 

How can they DO this to people, scheduling the conference just before Christmas? Don't they know we're newlyweds and that this is our first Christmas together? Are they heartless?

Anyway, I wanted to tell you what I was daydreaming about when I should have been painting.

It's the Storybuilder. You never got to experience the magic Storybuilder necklaces with me when we were still at the Inn on the Edge, which breaks my heart. I know you've been reluctant to use them, but Josh - it's been months and months since we escaped the demon. We're safe now. We took care of Mr. Abiba! He's gone! We can play with the Storybuilder now. I know we can!

Still need convincing? Then let me tell you about my daydream.

Close the door to your office, my dear. Lower the lights, sit back in your swivel chair and make yourself comfortable ... prepare yourself for adventure!

First, we'll undress each other. We put Storybuilder Pendants over one another's shoulders. You arrange mine so that it falls perfectly between my breasts, and then you lean over and kiss me. (Like it so far?)

We say the magic words and the Storybuilder turns on. Colorful speckles of light scatter over our faces, our bodies, looking for all the world like miniature Christmas lights. Admiring the effect the light show has on our nakedness, we nestle closer to each other. Before long I'm settled on your lap. We kiss again, even though kissing isn't part of the formal script that activates the magic. (Now I KNOW you're liking it!)

The sparkling lights die down, signaling that the magic is ready. It's time to take turns building our Storyland. Quivering with anticipation - this is so fun! - I choose the setting: we're in a castle, a deserted castle in the middle of a dense forest.

We watch, wide-eyed, as real world of our bedroom fades away and is replaced with magic. Rough stone walls materialize around us. The ceiling is made of wide, hand-hewed beams. The flagstone floor is covered with a hand-knotted carpet. Amazingly, impossibly, we're inside a drafty, cool castle. It even smells old. (Did you expect it to look so REAL, Josh? I didn't, the first time!)

I decide the place should be decorated for Christmas, and more things appear: a fifteen-foot Christmas tree in the corner of the room, fat aromatic candles burning in a wide circle around us, bunting draped from the ceiling and doorways, and, permeating the air, the smell of cloves and cinnamon and eggnog. (Yes, that'll do nicely.)

Now it's your turn, Josh. You get to choose the characters we'll portray in our own private Story Land. You think about it for a moment while I gaze at your handsome flushed face - see? You're getting into this! - and then you smile and tell me that you are the Lord of the Forest, a rich and powerful man, who has had this charming wilderness castle built for one purpose only - to share with his secret love...the parlor maid.

(So I'm to be a PARLOR MAID? You funny, funny man.)

We watch as we're magically draped in rich velvets and supple leather (for the Lord of the Forest), and in a thin, ill-fitting frock (for the parlor maid.)

(Thank you very much, Josh. Would it have been so bad to let me have a ball gown?)

Then it's my turn to add to the Story again. I declare that we need a banquet table heaped with the best food and drink, fresh and savory and ready to eat. Because we're going to get hungry, after all I have planned for us.

Arching your eyebrow, you quickly add an enormous four-poster bed, complete with satin sheets and comforters and plenty of pillows.

I add a mirror over the bed. Why not?

You add a box of sex toys. Again, why not?

And there you have it, Josh. The beginning of a Story. The rest will have to wait until you are here, until we're together again. Until then, I'll be thinking of nothing else.

With all my love,


Your Little Parlor Maid



Thursday, December 5, 2013

12 Days of Christmas Blog Hop...and RELEASE DAY for Inn on the Edge!


Blog Hop: 12 Days of Christmas
Event Date: December 1 through December 12, 2013


~~~ Recipe ~~~



Mr. Abiba's Favorite Divinity Cookies

(from Inn on the Edge)


2 cups confectioners' sugar
1 heaping cup shortening or butter (do not use margarine)
2 cups cake flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup finely chopped pecans

Mix together confectioners' sugar and shortening. Add remaining ingredients and blend well using a mixer to form dough the consistency of stiff putty. Don’t over-blend. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

Roll dough into 1 1/2 -inch balls and place on baking sheet about one inch apart. Flatten balls to about 1/2 inch thick. Sprinkle with extra chopped pecans if desired.

Bake at 350 degrees for about 8-10 minutes or until sides become slightly golden. Do not brown.

Makes about 24 cookies.


Release day!

Now Available!
http://www.ellorascave.com/inn-on-the-edge.html

Inn on the Edge
Erotic Horror by Gail Bridges
     
     Angela and her brand-new husband Josh have just arrived at their honeymoon destination, a romantic bed-and-breakfast hotel on the breath-taking Washington coast—the Inn on the Edge.

     But everything isn’t as it seems. The lessons that come free with the room aren’t for painting the lovely coastal scenery—the lessons are for better sex. Angie and Josh, shocked and titillated, immerse themselves in every sensual offering.

     It doesn’t take long for things to go horribly wrong. They discover that the old man running the place is a sex demon, who has been stealing their sensual energy. Worse, he’s dangerously in love with Angie and he has plans for her—plans involving an heirloom wedding ring.

Inside Scoop:  This book contains scenes of unbridled demon-inspired passion—girls with girls, boys with boys, twosomes, threesomes and more! A Romantica erotic horror romance from Ellora’s Cave.


~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~  ~~~~


Grand Prize: $150 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal Cash
First Prize: One (1) eBook from Every Participating Author 


For more Favorite Christmas Cookie Recipes & Giveaways - Hop along the 12 Days of Christmas Blog Hop!

12 Days of Christmas Blog Hop



Monday, December 2, 2013

You're Writing WHAT?

How I Came to Write Inn on the Edge,
an Erotic Horror Novel



     Not long ago, a friend asked about my new novel, Inn on the Edge. She wanted to know: Why erotic horror? Good question! It made me sit down and think about the genesis of my story, way back when the idea was nothing but wisps of unformed ideas, insubstantial yet demanding attention. My friend had good timing - this is a great time to talk about the very beginnings of the book, since the release date of December 6 is finally within shouting distance.

     It goes like this: 

     Just over a year ago, not long after my first erotic work was published, I had a conversation with Carrie Jackson, a lovely editor from Ellora's Cave, my publisher. I'd been lucky enough to meet her at the Emerald City Writer's Conference in Bellevue, Washington, and although she is not my own Ellora's Cave editor, she took the time to share with me what the publisher most wanted to see - at the top of the list: erotic horror.
     
     Apparently, erotic horror is devilishly difficult to write. Carrie told me that authors are daunted at the prospect. Ellora's Cave doesn't get nearly the submissions they would like in the genre. "How about you write one?" she said, leaning forward.

     Indeed. As if that would happen.

     But I couldn't stop thinking about what Carrie had told me. Erotic Horror? What a difficult, wonderful combination! How to combine  two such opposite-seeming things in the same story? In a romance story, no less? How could I create a scenario where the main characters are scared shitless, fearing for their lives ... and yet have plenty of time for hot, wild sex?  How could I write such a story and make it realistic?

     I had to try.

     First, I needed a great setting. It didn't take long to think of the wonderful old lodge on the Washington Coast where, long ago, I'd spent a romantic weekend. Such a place would be the ideal atmospheric setting for a horror novel.

Lake Quinault Lodge

The Perfect Place for a Long, Lazy Afternoon...or to be trapped by a Demon


     Once I had the setting, the story came together piece by piece. I'd populate the Lodge (re-cast as a Bed-and-Breakfast Inn) with eager, bright-eyed newlywed couples. My story would be rife with erotic, passionate undercurrents - who better to get things going than four couples gathering together just after their weddings?

     Next, I needed a bad guy. He'd be horrible and likable at the same time, a demon who would lure my unsuspecting main characters to his Inn and keep them captive. My antagonist slowly took form in my mind: he'd be a new kind of sex demon, scary, charming, charismatic, yet unable to touch his captives. But now I had a new problem - who was this demon who would play such a large part in my novel?



     It took a while to find my demon. My bad guy didn't take shape until about a month later when my husband, my grown daughter, and I were eating take-out Thai food. I mentioned my Demon-in-the-Inn idea.

     "Sounds interesting," said my daughter.

     "But I'm having a problem getting a handle on the demon character," I said around a mouthful of noodles.

     "What's his name?" asked my husband, "Start with a name."

     I just stared at him blankly.

     "It ought to be something foreign-sounding!" said my daughter.

     "Yeah - like this..." said my husband, shoving the Pad Thai container toward me.

     My daughter shook her head. "Pad Thai? Are you kidding?"

     "Okay, okay. Forget it." He thought for a moment, then grinned. "What was the name of that Ethiopian place we ate lunch at last week? That sounded foreign!"

     We looked it up. Adey Abeba.

     


     Adey Abeba. The words had such a nice ring to them. They rolled off the tongue in such a deliciously foreign way.  I'd found my demon's name - I knew immediately, no looking back. We went back to the restaurant the next day - how could we not? - and I asked the waitress what the words meant. 

     "Two things," she told us, looking like she thought it was the oddest question she'd ever heard in her life. "It is the name of the capitol of Ethiopia ... you know, Adis Abiba."

     "Oh," I said, nodding.

     "It is also ... this." She picked up a menu, and jabbed at a grainy image of charming yellow flowers. "This flower, it grows all over the hills near my city."

     Perfect.

     I changed the spelling: Adi Abiba. He was now Mr. Adi Abiba, proprietor of the unique Bed-and-Breakfast destination Inn on the Edge. I could see my demon clearly, so very clearly! He was tall and imposing and he wore flowing robes. He had an infectious laugh and a gaze that could skewer you. It took only a moment for Mr. Abiba to became a fully-formed character.

     So there you have it. I was off to the races. I had everything I needed for my erotic horror novel. All I had to do was buckle down and write it.