I can't wait to share with you the Passion Parties secrets that can make your relationship red hot. But before we get started, I'd like to tell you a little bit about myself. When I tell people what I do, I must admit that I get a lot of surprised looks. When people who've never met me invite me to speak or arrange and interview, they usually expect a Playboy Bunny, some twenty-year-old sex kitten in a size-four negligee. Imagine their surprise when I show up — a full-figured businesswoman proudly in her sixties, with photos of my grandchildren in my wallet (and yes, some lacy silken lingerie beneath my black suit!). I’ve been married to the same wonderful man since I was seventeen — but I'm here to tell you, ladies, we still have great sex. That's how I know that all those Hollywood images are simply not true. You don't need to look like Angelina Jolie or Halle Berry to have a great sex life — and your partner doesn't need to look like George Clooney, either. The two of you can bring each other all kinds of ecstasy, from your first date to your fiftieth anniversary, but you do have to work at it.
Of course, you have to play at it. Relationships may be a lot of work, but never forget: Sex itself is a lot of fun! At least, it can be — that's what Passion Parties, and this book, are all about.
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So how did a mother of two, a grandmother, and a housewife married to her high school sweetheart become the CEO of the world's largest sensual party planning company? Perhaps it all began on the day I was born — February 14th, Valentine’s Day. Or it might have been on an ordinary winter day in 1959. I was an outgoing fourteen-year-old just two weeks shy of my fifteenth birthday, living in Portsmouth, Virginia, with my widowed mother and younger sister. In those days, my mother was dating the produce manager of a local grocery store. He was a large, heavyset German man whose biggest claim to fame in my mind was that he managed a team of very cute male produce clerks. The cutest one was Gerald, an Italian boy with curly black hair. Whenever I shopped at the store, I would hang around the tomatoes, hoping to catch the eye of my Italian fantasy.