I guess the funniest thing that happens to me every book is when I’m writing the most passionate scenes. It usually goes something like this:-
I make myself a hot drink and sit in front of the computer. My children are occupied with their activities, so I take the opportunity to get a bit more done on my latest manuscript…
“He slid his hand under her skirts, his fingers searching for the milky white silkiness of her thigh, his lips caressing the soft skin of her throat. He wanted to…”
Suddenly behind me is a loud sound of footsteps stomping towards me.
“Mummy, my brother took my shopkins thingy!” shouts my seven year old.
With a family as large as mine I have got used to this kind of thing happening.
There was another time when my teenage son asked me how the new book was going and if he could read some of it. The look on the poor boys face when I explained my books were probably a bit too steamy for him for a few more years.