S.R.Claridge writes Mystery and Romantic Suspense novels. Her work has been said to have the energy of Dan Brown, the mystery of Mary Higgins Clark and the humor of Janet Evanovich. Claridge novels will take you to the edge of your seat, keep you guessing until the very end and ultimately warm your heart. It is on the pages of every S.R.Claridge novel that Mystery and Sensual Suspense collide.

For more information on bookings, interviews and upcoming releases, please visit the author website and Facebook fan page.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT - Sending Dick Pics Makes You a Dick

WARNING:  This blog contains graphic pictures of male genitalia.  It is not for the faint at heart so now is your opportunity to stop reading and close your browser window.  I am posting this blog to make a point.


It's a sad state of affairs that I am blogging about penis pics once again.  Alas, this is the third time this year that a man on FB has sent me nude pictures of himself.  Not the same man.  Each time it has been a different man.  You know what they say, "third time's the charm."  So, this time, I'm going public with his pictures and his information.  Hopefully, a lesson will be learned and I will not receive any further penis pictures.  Hopefully, men everywhere will stop and think before pressing the SEND button on their next penis pics.

Last night as I opened my FB email I was shocked to find that I had received not one but two penis pictures from a male whom I do not know in real life.  We were virtual friends existing only in the FB world.  In fact, I have never had any form of contact with him.  So, what makes a man decide to send a complete stranger a picture of his genitalia?

If only I knew the answer.

Keep in mind that my FB profile is public because public status is necessary due to the line of work I am in.  But, it only takes a moment of perusing my profile to realize that I am married and not seeking any form of male companionship outside of my marriage.  It is also evident that I'm a Christian woman and a mother who is very involved in her kid's lives; and that I do not have pornographic images in my photos folder.  How, then, do I fit the demographic showing a desire to receive pornographic emails?  Do these men even read my profile or do they simply see that I am female and, thusly, assume that I am going to love their dick pics?

Do they actually believe that I will open my email, fall to my knees in adoration of their manhood and write to them urgently, promising to leave my husband and begging for them to take me as their own?  Is that the fantasy... because I just can't seem to get there? 

Do they think that I will reciprocate the action and send them pictures?  Is that the hope?  If so, here's a pussy for you: 

How do you like my breasts?  Don't they look yummy?

You see, that's as explicit as I get and the inuendo alone is quite enough. 

I think it's time for a giant dose of reality.... Men, you might want to sit down before you read this because it may come as a shock to you.  Here we go:

Women think penises are weird looking, odd and rather gross.  When they are flacid they serve us no purpose whatsoever.  When they are strongly erect, we like them to pleasure us but we don't want to stare at them.  They are not a part of the human body that we want to gawk at or gaze at longingly.  We do not want to receive a picture of your genitalia...ever.  This applies to the men we love and certainly applies to the men we don't.  So, go ahead and do whatever it is that you do with it on your own time, but when the cameras are out keep it in your pants...literally.

I'm sorry, but it's true.  The male genitalia is not considered a work of art.  It's useful and practical but not beautiful.

That being said, if you want to entice a woman, send her pics of the parts of you that are beautiful and at which she longs to gaze.  For example:  your eyes, your smile, if you have nice abs or nice arms or a nice ass (not naked but in some fine-ass looking Levi's).  Those are the parts that she likes to look at.  Your dick, as fine a tool as it may be, is not something she wants to stare at in her email.

Even better, send her something that expresses your humor or quirky personality, your integrity or your spontaneity.  Show her the beauty that matters most and that will leave an impression to last a lifetime.  Your inner beauty is a more powerful tool than the one dangling between your legs.


I opened my email last night to find this:  (Pictures have been removed because I don't want them forever on my blog.  They are too graphic and gross.)

I never replied to Sandy, as anything I would have to say to him would not be nice.  But, if you would like to reply to him, please feel free.  He's obviously seeking attention, so what do you say we spread this post as far and wide as possible?  I say we give him the notority he deserves.  Maybe he could land a porn gig out of it.  Or maybe some woman will see his penis, fall instantly in love with him and they'll live happily ever after.  The possibilites are endless... NOT.

The truth is I'm not only offended by the pictures and by the simple fact that he thought they would be well received, I feel violated by the images and more so by his intent.  I should be able to open my email without worrying about being repulsed.  It stirs in me an anger, an anger that many women have felt and yet been unable to extinquish.  Are we to just take it?  Are we to merely accept the fact that men have the right to violate us in this manner?

If this man came up to me on the street and whipped out his penis and began masturbating in front of me, it would be illegal.  How then is sending these images via email any different?  

The violation is the same.  I have been forced to see something that I did not ask to see nor want to see.  Ladies, do we simply delete the email, block the person and go about our business, trying to erase the discusting pictures from our minds?  Or, do we take back the control and let every perverted man out there know that if they send a picture, that picture will be posted everywhere along with their contact information and profile links.  Do we turn the tables and make them think twice before depressing the SEND button on their next email to another woman...one that could be going to our sisters, friends, mothers or daughters.

The fact that Sandy actually believes a woman would respond positively to this action tells me he is a real whack-job (pun intended this time), though I aleady gathered that from the pictures.   

Men, the reality is that sending dick pics to women makes you nothing more than a dick...a flacid, useless dick.

Women, let's take a stand and tell the world that we will no longer tolerate this type of behavior. Send this to your female friends and let's take a stand against the men who treat women with a level of gross disrespect.  If they want to send us pictures of their dicks, I say we plaster those pictures all over the world, one email, tweet, DM, IM, post and blog at a time.

Sandy's FB page:  https://www.facebook.com/san.dychirs?fref=ts    Go get him, girls!

This ri-DIC-ulous crap stops here!                      

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Change Begins When Our Silence Ends

At what point is enough, enough?!

We…and by “we” I mean parents…we bite our tongues, grit our teeth and sit on our hands because we fear the consequences of making waves.  We watch mean kids do mean things over and over and over again and get away with it because we are afraid that if we say something to another parent, a teacher, a principal, a director or a coach that negative repercussions will befall our child.

Then…and here’s the topper… THEN we tell our children that they should not be afraid to stand up for themselves.  We have the nerve to quote inspirational things like “be the change you want to see in the world” and yet we are scared into stone cold silence ourselves.  Hypocrites.  That’s what we’ve become.  Hypocrites.

How do we teach our kids to defend themselves when we can’t even defend them because of the fear of ridicule and backlash?

“If I say something they might not cast my kid in a role again?”
“If I speak up my kid might lose playing time on the field.”
“If I say something they might make my kid’s life a living hell in class.”
“If I speak up they might get mad at me and a friendship will be ruined.”

At what point do we stop kissing ass and start covering it?

Oh, I long for the days of past when a simple punch to the nose would end it and the bully would realize there were consequences for being mean.  But now, oh no, we have to be so goddamned politically correct that we’ve designed a society wherein the bully suffers no consequences.  The bully wins.

The reality in our world today is that the bullies aren’t the ones committing suicide…the victims are.  The mean kids aren’t the ones being degraded…the nice kids are.  We sit back, as if puzzled, scratching our heads and wondering why the teenage suicide rate is skyrocketing in our nation but we refuse to step out of our political correctness to do anything to change it.  Hypocrites.

It’s time we call a spade, a spade.  It’s time we stand up, for God’s sake, open our mouths, call the mean kid a mean kid so that he can be stopped!  Us shutting up isn’t helping anyone.

Bullies are assholes.  Period. 

“Gasp!  You can’t call a child an asshole!” Society gawks.

Yes, I can and I just did.  Bullies are assholes no matter what age, size or package they come in.  They can be five or ninety-five.  And here’s the reality:  The fact that they exist and continue to exist is our fault.  Yours and mine.  Why?  Because we have the power to change them.  We have the power to stop them.  All we have to do is open our mouths and shut them down.  If we had the courage to openly identify and label a kid a bully, that kid would then be given the opportunity to change his or her behavior.  They would be presented with the ability to choose NOT to be the asshole.

Our silence helps no one.

Our silence ultimately hurts everyone.

Our silence sets a bad precedence for our kids, who then think they have to shut up and take it just as they see us doing.  And, thus, the bully wins again and again and again.

We force a smile, tell our kids that kindness will prevail, all the while knowing it’s a lie.  Yes, killing with kindness is a wonderful tactic… but it won’t stop a bully.  They will march right over it, smash it, annihilate it, mock it and spit on it (literally).

We tell our kids that violence is never the answer, and yet, we know firsthand that a punch to the bully’s nose will render him afraid to ever pick on our kid again.  But that isn’t politically correct…so we hush…we stifle the truth…we fight to quiet ourselves when every parental instinct is to defend our young.

Reality:  If a child punches a bully, despite the fact that the bully has belittled, spit on, mocked, antagonized and berated the other child for months, the victim is suspended or kicked out of our schools and the bully suffers no consequences whatsoever.

Then we tell our kids that there is justice in this world.  Hypocrisy.  What’s wrong with this system?
We have become so politically correct that we have lost all defining qualities of what is right and wrong.

Silence isn’t golden, it is painful.  And shame on us for allowing the pain to linger because we are afraid to take action.  Shame on us for hushing our voices when our very voice is the best advocate and sometimes the only advocate our child has.  Shame on us for creating the hypocrisy.

“Kids will be kids,” we say and try desperately to shrug it off, as we stick our heads deeper into the sand and wonder why the suicide rate climbs.

We try to institute politically correct programs to stop bullying…and though the idea is wonderful, the execution falls short because being nice to a bully won’t change him.  A swift kick to the balls or forearm shiver, will. 

Our grandparents and parent’s generation knew how to handle bullies and it worked.  Why are we not following their lead?

When will it be enough?  When will we stop this cycle?  How many times does your kid need to be spit on, made fun of, belittled and berated by another kid before you find your voice?  How many times does your kid need to come home from school or from a gathering of peers sobbing, before you find the courage to speak up?  How high does the teenage suicide rate need to climb before we realize that our politically correct programs aren’t working?

This must stop.  Punishing the victims must stop.  Silence must stop.

Mean kids aren’t going to be mean in front of adults.  They aren’t going to mistreat another child in front of their parents, teachers or coaches.  They’re smart enough to do it when adults aren’t around.  Knowing this is the case, why then do we tell the victim to go to a teacher, parent or coach for assistance.  Then, when they do, the adult shrugs and acknowledges that unless the action is witnessed, it is as if it never occurred.  Our very system sets the victim up to be repeatedly victimized.  It strips the child of all power and all recourse.  This hypocrisy must stop!

How many tears will it take?  How many lives will it take?  How many cuts on flesh will there be?  How much suffering will it take before WE stand up and say enough is enough?!

WE have to open our eyes.  Our child comes to us because they are being mistreated and we, feeling the politically correct reins around us tighten, do nothing to help them.  Eventually, they stop coming to us.  They internalize their fears, their pain and they slip further and further away as depression beckons them.  What's next?  Cutting.  Drugs. Suicide attempts.  And then we have the gall to shake our heads and wonder what happened?

Bullying happened.  An asshole we didn't stop happened.

I’m stopping it now!  If you spit on my kid, he has my express permission to spit back.  If you hit him, run because he has my permission to punch you back.  If that means we have to home school because we’ve been kicked out of our district, so be it.  We will lie down quietly no more.

My children are taught not to pick on anyone.  My children are taught to be kind to everyone.  My children are taught not to make fun of others, but to find one thing about each person that is good, likable, amazing or interesting.  My children are taught to compliment others and to uplift them and be helpful in any way that they can.  Why then, should my child suffer at the hands of a bully with no recourse or defense whatsoever?  They shouldn't.  They won't!

Political correctness is not justice.  What a hypocritical joke we have become.

No more.  Enough is enough.  A spade is a spade.  A bully is a bully.  This needs to stop right now, right here.  No more lives.  No more tears.  No more suffering.  No more politically correct crap. 

Change begins when our silence ends and I'm done being silent.


Saturday, August 29, 2015

Let's Talk About Nudity

Let's talk about nudity.

If that first line didn't get your attention, I don't know what will.  It is the perfect example of "hooking" the reader right out of the gate.

But in all seriousness, let's talk about nudity.

When I mention nudity I am not referring to pornography or anything grossly inappropriate.  I'm simply referring to a man and a woman's body without the mask of clothing.

Men and women view nudity differently.  Men are much more open about being naked.  They strip down in locker rooms, urinate next to one another and seemingly have no discomfort strutting around in the buff.  Most women, on the other hand, find being naked a challenge.  We are so self-focused that we can't just relax and enjoy the freeing feeling of being nude.  We're too busy judging our body and pointing out all of its flaws to be able to see the beauty in it.

Here's an idea ladies, let's stop it!

Your self-absorption with your body is painting a poor picture in your husband's psyche.  The fact is that you might notice every tiny bit of cellulite or a stretch mark or a scar, but he's not only not focusing on it, he probably doesn't see it at all.  You might think your thighs are too big but as long as those legs are going to be wrapped around him, he doesn't care. All he wants is your skin on his skin. He wants to feel you and touch you and, yes, see you.  Men are visual creatures, so don't rob them of the joy it brings to behold their lover naked just because you have an insecurity about your body. And don't taint the picture for him before he even has the chance to drink it in.  What I mean is, don't walk into the bedroom moaning about how bloated you feel or how saggy you think your breasts have become. Enter the room with the confidence of Beyonce.  Flaunt whatever it is that God gave you and make him think that you think you're the best damn woman to ever grace the earth.

Confidence is sexy and men like sexy.

It is statistically proven that couples who get naked together have a better chance of staying together. Couples who kiss and hug more often have longer lasting marriages.  Why?  Because human touch is important.  We all crave it because we all need it.

If insecurity has kept you hiding your body, it's time to say ENOUGH and get in the buff!

Monday, August 17, 2015

Setting The Record Straight

In a previous blog I shared the email correspondence from an incident that occurred on Facebook.The email thread that I posted has become the cause of confusion and I want to set the record straight.

A friend's name (Mark F) was mentioned in the email. Mark in no way had anything to do with what transpired, nor was there anything inappropriate on his Facebook page.  The man who contacted me simply saw my name and picture on Mark's friend list and contacted me without Mark's knowledge.

If you have any questions, please email me at AuthorSRClaridge@gmail.com

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Time to Stop Shrugging it Off and Start Calling it Out

This blog content has been removed.

If you would like to discuss the content please feel free to contact me via email.


Wednesday, February 4, 2015

A Passionate Pursuit

My eleventh novel is coming out in just a few short days and it has caused me to reflect on my journey as a writer.  Though I have written since the age of thirteen, my first novel was released in 2010 and every year since I have had releases; with the exception of last year.  2014 slipped away and before I knew it, an entire year had passed. Perhaps every writer needs a breather now and again.
During the course of those twelve months, people asked if I was quitting.  My only answer came in the form of a smile.  See, what non-writers don't know is that writers can't quit.  They might cease to publish their work, but they never stop writing.

Writing is a disease, a curse, an addiction, an obsession and a love all rolled into one.  Some days you battle it.  Some days you relish in it.  There are moments when you birth the words through force and there are moments when they flow.  But, the one consistency is that a writer writes.

With three more novels currently in the works, I hope to have several releases in 2015; however, even if it is only one, as long as my pen hits the paper or my fingertips brush the keys on a daily basis, I will be fulfilled.

In reflection, what I have learned is that it is important to find what you love and do it.  No matter how others perceive it.  No matter what odds are against you.  No matter how many obstacles are thrown in your path.  One cannot waste their life on passion.  Life is wasted only on the mundane and the meaningless; never on passionate endeavors.  For the pursuit of passion is never a failure.

If it fulfills you... if it is your dream...then chase after it and never, ever quit.   ~

Sunday, January 25, 2015

One Resolution. One Choice. CHANGE.

2015 is to be a year of change.  That is my one and only resolution.  Change. 

Things in my life will change and the change will be for the better.  Here is what I will do to make this change happen:  

I will no longer be fake in order to protect other’s feelings while mine lie unprotected and stepped on.  I will no longer waste my time or concern on people who are only concerned with themselves.  I will not strive to keep peace when that very peace itself is a sham, a lie.  I will not keep people in my life who make me feel unappreciated, unimportant, forgotten and worthless.  I will protect my loved ones and I will expect that protection to be reciprocated in my time of need.  Otherwise, the relationship will be re-evaluated.  I will not apologize for who I am or for the fact that the little things in this existence matter most to me.  I will not feel bad about the fact that I am a creative and emotional being, who feels both overwhelming joy and crushing heartache.   I will not apologize for the things that I need… like the need to be heard, to be respected, to feel that my heart matters, that my feelings are relevant, that even my silliest request would be met with understanding…to be known and loved so deeply that I am cared for without having to verbalize those wants.  The simple fact is that if I am important to you than what is important to me is also important to you.  That is love.  When you love someone, you strive to show them, and for me love is best shown in the little things. Not lavish gifts, but in simply making me feel important to you. 

The latter half of 2014 was one of the darkest times for me and from the darkness new life has been birthed in the form of change.   Those who cannot love me in the little things will not be trusted with my heart in the big things.  Those to whom I don’t matter, will cease to matter to me and that will be determined by your track record, which speaks truth even though your lips lie.  For better is it to be alone, than to be made to feel worthless and "less than" at every turn.  There is a defining moment in everyone’s life… a moment when a choice must be made.  Live according to others or live according to yourself.   I have chosen happiness and in that choice comes the reality that I will cast from my life those that destroy my happiness, no matter what title they bear. 

2015 is a year of change and I will set the boundaries necessary to make those changes.  I will no longer demand to be heard, for those that love me will hear me and those that don’t are not worth my breath.   ~