Rose by Any Other Name

By Rose Maru

This anthology covers my early years writing romantic-erotica as I sought to discover my lost sexuality. It covers the time when I thought I was just in a drought - albeit a fifteen year drought, but just a temporary pause just the same. Long before I knew what I was experiencing even had a name.

During those early years, after recognizing I was lacking a normal sex drive (hell, my ride didn't even seem to have a motor, let alone four-on-the-floor), it was suggested I explore various sexually charged scenarios to see where my, ahem, "interest" might be found. So with my husband's encouragement (and many naughty nights and mornings of explicit pillow-talk), I set about to write down some of these discussions to better evaluate why nothing was getting my juices flowing.

Of course, just because I typed it out, it didn't mean I could write it from my point of view (POV) - in fact, four of the stories were so far out of my comfort zone, I had brain-lock and couldn't even get the general idea down without a complete freeze-up of the mental mechanisms. Because I'm a trooper (truth alert: I'm a 'trooper' because I got freaking tired of him laying on my tummy in the morning talking to my nipples seeing if either one of them liked the ideas and story lines I refused to hear above my neck. Often both the rotten traitors on my chest would tighten up in appreciation for the talk directed at them, while my brain kept screaming, 'No - I can't hear you - la la la!'
Until finally I would give in and say, "Fine - you can check down there - but I tell you, it's not turning me on."
Only to hear him confess to my nipples, "Holy wetness, girls! Hang on tight, she's so slicked up, she might slide out of bed any moment!"
And I'd have to listen to the sounds of my sloppy appreciation for whatever story de jour he'd tormented my conscious mind. But if I wrote the ideas out, he'd let me move on to a new story) I'd bolt from the bed to 'jot that story down,' even if it had to be from his POV. (Sorry if that was TMI - but it is an excellent example of the 'Truth and Consequences' sections of my books!)

Combining all these early works under one roof, it became Rose by Any Other Name (because THIS Rose wasn't going to claim having written those four stories, that's for sure!) - so glancing down our happy little family in this anthology:

Kohl's Super Surprise (complete tease with a touch of shy humor)
Stretched (his POV) (no, please tell me my body didn't respond that much to this story)
Bare Grylls (his POV) (teasing recovery - and my apologies to the real Bear)
New Sense for Figure Modeling (more humorous teasing before...)
Bath Time for Rosie (oh my - a bit of action - from my POV even - is it a little warm in here?)
Working Up to April Fool's Day (his POV) (please tell me he didn't really!)
Rock Massage (more reality-based tease while I catch my breath)
Movie Time (getting quite a bit of action going - did I feel some response below?)
Hotel Threesome (MMF - his POV) (please excuse me while I go, uh, I mean - just, excuse me for a few minutes - no this did not turn me on that much (Brain to body: "Please... Don't... Stop... Wait? Why'd you quit? I said, "Please don't stop, you moron!"))
Braless is Better (The cold hard truth pops out onto the scene)
Raindrops on Roses ( Art Director, HSDS )
Dozen Roses ( Threesome - MFF, Vulva-Vagina Veracity )
Bigger Brother ( Episode 3 ) (Sorry - need another break here - you go ahead and finish the book without me)

And, as always, those wonderful "Truth and Consequences" tidbits on each of the stories in the main body of the collection - often whether I want to admit it or not, I try to come clean for my intrepid readers.

Give in to your curiosity - it's okay, remember? I'm HSDS - I haven't a clue what's sexy... well, unless you're laying on my belly talking to my nipples, they seem to be getting a clue. So snag a copy of

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rose Maru
• Release date: Dec 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310991400

Rose Maru

Born a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... no, wait, that wasn't me, but sometimes it certainly seems like it.Before getting into all the fun details, I want to clear the air of a rather large aspect of my writing because it has a huge impact on my work: I have HSDS (Hypoactive Sexual Desire Syndrome). In fact, if it weren't for my HSDS, I wouldn't be here and you wouldn't be there reading this - my previously unpublished writings were explorations into kick-starting my, ahem, 'motor.' I tried to explore anything that might cause a little tingle below, even ideas and concepts my thinking brain refused to hear. Creating an alter-ego in my stories allowed me to safely penetrate the veil of non-existence - I was forced to think about sexy thoughts and situations.I wrote for years covering a wide range of topics, my husband providing a large number of seedlings from which to grow my stories (HSDS... what do you expect? Much to my dismay, what I learned to expect was very raunchy pillow-talk. Much to his dismay, he learned to expect me to leap from bed saying, "Oh! That is so good, I've got to write it down!"). It turns out, writing romantic erotica usually wasn't doing it for me. I gave up on it for a period of time - in essence, I gave up trying to help myself, as well.Then my significant's bright idea: if it didn't help me, maybe it would help someone else. I was back to writing again, or more correctly, preparing my work for release unto an unsuspecting public (I have now officially absolved myself from any evil that befalls you after reading my books - it's all his fault). So I dredged up my folder of rough and unpolished stories - damn, I wrote this much? No wonder I wasn't having sex, I was busy writing about it. (Fib alert: so not true it's not funny. Not the 'not having sex' part, but the lack of bedroom action wasn't really due to my writing.)An odd thing happened, though, as I was rereading my material and editing it. I felt a little something that I hadn't experienced in a long time. I actually felt a little tingle from down below. That soft little call, while editing some stories, started to get a little louder - still very quiet, but it was most certainly there where it hadn't been for decades. I gave in to the siren call almost immediately - surprised the hell out of my husband (thank goodness it wasn't the UPS guy at the door during those moments). Complete, spontaneous, due-to-my-doing rumpy-bumpy. Holy humper, Batman, I'm fixed!I wish. It disappeared again, just as easily slipping back into my 'normal abnormal' routine of never thinking about it within hours. Back to editing. Being the patient sort, I allowed myself to edit a whole three paragraphs before anguish sets in, "It's not working! Ah! I'm broken forever!" Luckily, I have a never say die attitude (Fib alert: ... no, wait, this isn't my stories where I have to include a 'truth' section - let me have my freaking moment), and said, "Piss on it, I'm still going to release my work. I've come this far."And so it went - although much to my joy (and my hubby's) - every so often, I'd find myself showing such obvious responses to passages, it was apparent to even an HSDS girl - and we'd make joy (sometimes several times) to the situation. I wasn't fixed, but at least I had a crutch.Which leaves me editing my old material, exploring new, and tormenting you with it - where I hope it does you some good, too. If it can't make you happy that way, I hope it'll at least provide you a little laugh the other way - especially since I do provide a 'Truth and Consequences' side to all my stories at the end of each book where I detail the nitty-gritty and harsh reality of every piece. This allows everyone's inner voyeur to be released because my HSDS does a great job of preventing me from grasping 'TMI,' so I tend to spill my guts back there in my books.As for my bio (side note: doesn't that make it an 'auto-bio?'), I'm a cute, twenty-one year-old (Fib Alert! Oh my Lord! If you're writing fantasy-fiction, at least make it believable!) - crap, okay, fine, I'm old enough to probably be your sister - from a second marriage - so we're not blood related, which means you don't have to get all weirded out about reading sex stuff about me) - and I live in the Pacific Northwest where I am still happily married to my first husband (very funny - he edits my other fibs so I have to tell the truth, but leaves the happily married one)... at least until he reads the final published product where I changed the truth section in every book back to being brutally honest contrary to his corrections.And, yes, that is me on the cover of all my books, but I'm not spilling the beans here, you have to read the book.

Book preview

Rose by Any Other Name

by Rose Maru

Copyright 2014 Rose C. Maru

First Edition - December 2014

Cover and Photos Copyright 2014 Randal Maru

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only - but if your enjoyment needs cleaning up, please don't e-mail me pictures of it. This series of electrons may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share the love and this e-book with another being, please purchase an additional copy for each sentient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your individual use only, then please feel super guilty and return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your very own copy. Thank you for respecting Rose's hard work.

(They said I wasn't allowed to threaten to go ape-bitch on your ass if you rip-off my book - something about the legal statutes don't have a proper definition of 'ape-bitch' for precedence. Figures - one more thing on my to-do list.)

:Table of Contents:

What's In a Name (Introduction)

-Fiction and Fantasy-

Kohl's Super Surprise

Stretched (his POV)

Bare Grylls (his POV)

New Sense for Figure Modeling

Bath Time for Rosie

Working Up to April Fool's Day (his POV)

Rock Massage

Movie Time

Hotel Threesome (MMF - his POV)

-Non-Fiction-

Braless is Better

-Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction-

-Coming Attractions / Also Available-

Raindrops on Roses

- Art Director

- Hypoactive Sexual Desire Syndrome - HSDS

Dozen Roses

- Threesome - MFF

- Vulva-Vagina Veracity

Bigger Brother ( Episode 3 )

Soul Service, Inc. ( Excerpt )

-About Rose C. Maru and Contact Information-

- - - -

Rose by Any Other Name

What's in a Name?

A collection of short erotic stories exploring my sexuality - or more correctly, lack there-of - from both my point of view (first person) and other tales from his perspective; all in the name of finding something that might help short-circuit my HSDS (Hypoactive Sexual Desire Syndrome) - if for only a moment.

The first ten stories - all fantasy-fiction (with a dabbling of reality, expanded upon in the 'Truth and Consequences' section) - are the oldest surviving pieces of my early work with erotic romance. Some existed before I even had a name for what I wasn't feeling. You'll note that many of these prescient works are often brief because - honestly? - my short attention span. If I wasn't feeling a tingle immediately, I was giving up - or worse, feeling depressed about myself.

Initially many were from his point of view ('his POV' in the Table of Contents) as I was afraid of addressing my own sexuality, what little there might be. So using his eyes provided a safe alternative; if he sinned, that was okay... he's a guy, men are supposed to think such risqué thoughts.

As I grew a little more comfortable with the ideas, I was finally able to explore a little out on my own - and not just in teasing-type stories, but all out action (Truth alert: almost! You'll find the last fiction-fantasy pushed my limits too far - a hotel, my husband, and - oh-my-Lord - another guy. I couldn't write it from my point of view at that time, so I again rapidly changed over to his eyes - and it allowed me to finally address me and two men at the same time. After you read it, I'll explain more in the Truth section at the end of the book). This means you'll actually get to grow with me through this anthology - from my first, too brisk jump into explicit sex (Stretched) back to shy and timid where I slowly build up steam and confidence to having someone else touch me in my fantasies. Inching onward to the time I took a little initiative - in the first person - and grabbed the bull by the, ahem, horn (Movie Time).

This collection, like my other stories, are reality based to varying degrees - some much more than others. If you feel a little voyeuristic, I do provide the dirty details at the end of this book (forgive me, Randy, for ratting on you - but I did warn you that one of these days, some of what you did would came back to haunt you. A quick disclaimer for him, though - I'm pretty sure a significant portion of his antics were designed as further exploration of my lack of sexuality - a desperate search for anything that I might recognize as erotic or sensual).

And finally, I enjoyed breaking the mold from my previous life where I had to write non-fiction to someone else's standards - I finally got to write non-fiction how it was meant to be written (according to the Rosie Edict of Educated Writing). I took the chance to further explain and answer one of the common questions I get about my choice of clothing - a choice not to wear something is still a clothing choice!

So without further adieu, curl up in a warm bed or under a soft blanket with the rain beating down outside, welcome to:

Rose by Any Other Name

Truth - Table of Contents

- - - -

Rosie the Super-Sales-Associate Rides Again

Hi! Welcome to Kohl's! I am really getting in the habit of this, and I still enjoy it.

Turning to the shopper who is starting to go through the rack I'd just organized, I ask: Can I help you?

This gentleman doesn't seem as lost in the women's section as most. In fact, he's too at ease about being among the dresses and blouses, readily feeling the fabric. It's funny how most guys don't understand how tactile clothes selection can be. The brush of the outfit on the body means as much as the general appearance.

I have a problem. I'm trying to surprise my wife with something, and not only am I not quite sure what I'm looking for, her size is this bizarre range from a 5/6 occasionally up to a 12. Not top heavy, but lean, and, well, pretty... like you...

My eyebrows go up. This is too familiar.

... you know, like your size. ... And, uh, pretty. A lot like you, he says looking into my eyes.

Okay, well... I look around to see if anyone else needs help, but it's still morning, just after we opened, so this is the only customer in the entire store. In fact, Monique is already sidling over. She's stolen more than my fair share of customers, often after I've spent a long time helping them, and she's getting noticed by the manager. Damn her! ... sure I can try to help you, but if we start getting busy...

Oh! Thank you... he stares directly at my chest (stupid place to put name tags, if you ask me),Rosie! That'd be super great.

Monique oozes off with a quick glare in my direction. I admit, this might be well worth it.

So what were you thinking she might like? Is this for a special occasion?

No. Well, yeah, I mean, because she's special. That's why I want to surprise her. She only likes a small percentage of the things I pick out, so I figured if I could get a woman's touch, maybe I could score. Uh, well, you know what I mean, not saying I don't, uh, never mind, he stammers as an involuntary grin escapes me.

Did you like anything you've seen in this section while walking through? I can give you my professional Kohl's trained-staff opinion if you'd like. I smile softly at him. Ok, so I have to admit, he is a little cute. Also he does seem to genuinely want to get something. Plus I can feel for him: it's not easy buying clothes for any woman.

It's just that things can look so cool on the hanger or display, but as soon as they're on a human, it's, well, crap.

You're not the only one. A lot of customers, even women shopping for themselves, have no clue. Even me. And I work at Kohl's.

Thank you for not making me feel stupid. So how does this work?

I guess we see if we can find several outfits, and, if you want, I'll try them on for you to let you see how they look on a, um, 'human.'

You're being really nice. Thank you.

I lead him out to the racks.

Unfortunately, he keeps gravitating to things that would fit snug and conform to the body. Nothing like I'd normally select, but this is his shopping trip. Maybe he knows his wife's needs better than I do. I let him run with it, occasionally directing him away from obvious mistakes.

I do give him credit, though, in his selection of fabric feel. He's really into the touch of it, focusing on the lush, decadent cuts.

After picking a few things in the bargain and normal sections, he says the magic words: Of course, I don't have to be a cheapskate on her. Is the more expensive stuff mixed in, or in a special area?

We carry his selections over to the more discerning section of the store, where I'd usually never be found as a retail shopper. I mean, a hundred bucks for a dress? Sure they feel amazing, but I can never bring myself to spend that amount.

Here the fabrics are truly soft, smooth, much heavier, elegantly flowing. I love working in this section - and dreaming. Now I even have an excuse to try on some of the dresses I've been watching and hoping they'd go on sale while we still have my size. One of the many benefits I've found of being an employee, stashing stuff the moment it goes on sale, take a break, spend my day's wages. I figure it's a great deal both for the company and me.

I quickly steer him toward several gorgeous cuts and fabrics, nothing less than $65 sale price, but nothing more than $125... excuse me, $124.99. He has no choice but to agree that these need to be checked out. Or maybe he's just happy to check me out. Either way, I finally get to try them on. And there's no way I'm not trying them. I mean, for him.

Another check through the store as we wander toward the dressing rooms. Being an employee, I don't have to worry about taking too many items in with me, not to mention, restocking them is a breeze. There's still not another soul in the store.

He hands me his stack of selections.

Is there any particular order you'd like me to try them on?

No, not at all. Are you sure you'll be okay trying all those on?

Absolutely. Just give me a moment and I'll be right out, and I hurry into the nearest changing room.

I slide out of my clothes. When will I learn? Dark panties. Again. I really need to shop in the intimates section one of these days. Oh well, I survived the last time I did this, although I blush at the memory. I'm sure I can make it through this one. I slip my panties off.

I start with the lowest of the high end. Oh, wow... I'm right. Sixty-eight bucks or no sixty-eight, it's nearly perfect: cradling my body, hugging my every curve and giving me an extra curve or two where I need it. I'm in love! I impishly flick my hips to the side as the expensive silky fabric does an exaggerated flip and flow back to me, under my command. The slightest shift of my hips allows my