by Rori Raye, author of Have the Relationship You Want

I make things up.

I'm standing at the kitchen sink, a soapy dish in my hand, and I'm enraged.

My face is screwed up in fury.

I want to hurl the dish at the window.

I've just imagined that my husband is doing something awful that hurts me, and I've gone through the entire scenario of discovery, pain and rage – all in about two seconds.

I catch myself and stop cold.

What am I doing?

Why am I doing this?

by Dr. Trina Read, author of Till Sex Do Us Part: Make Your Married Sex Irresistible

There you are sitting alone on a Saturday nite, eating stale Doritos and watching old re-runs of Seinfeld you have already seen seven times. It would not be so bad except you have an itch, a sexual itch that is, in need of scratching.

You start flipping through your brain's Rolodex and realize other than the slightly creepy person in accounting who flirts with you, there are no real prospects on the horizon. Big time Bridget Jones' loser feelings start seeping into your every pore. Panic ensues.

Your mind wonders back to the sex you had with your last partner. Instead of remembering all the reasons you broke up, you start obsessing about their soft, warm body up against yours in your nice cozy bed.

Without thinking, you pick up the phone. They answer. You try to make some small talk but it is of no use. You ask them to come over for a "drink". Both of you know that is code for, "let's have sex at least three times tonite."

Your legs raw from twitching they finally arrive. In a mad haze to rip each other's clothes off, there is little or no thought given to consequences. Your itch is about to be scratched - hopefully they will sleep over as an added bonus.

by Amy Waterman, author of How to Be Irresistible to Men

A friend told me a wonderful story last year. It was the story of a woman who was living in the deep South, along a river that threatened to spill its banks every year but never did. She told everyone who would listen that she wasn’t afraid if the river flooded. God would save her. All she had to do was believe in Him.

The time came when the winter was particularly fierce. Rains hurtled down for weeks. The river, brown and raging, broke its banks and flooded the town. Cars were swept away first, then sheds, then entire houses.

Despite the call to evacuate, there were those who stayed. One was the woman. A rescuer plowed through the mud and rising waters and told her, "Jump in my van! I’ll take you to safety."

She refused. "I have no need of your help. God will save me!"

The rescuer looked at her unbelievingly, saw others who needed rescuing, and left her to her belief.

by Amy Waterman, author of Seduction Genie

I once flew across the world for a man on nothing more than a promise. I was studying for my master’s degree in a foreign university, and a sudden decline in the US dollar meant that the money I had to live on was sparse. I lived on canned beans and peas. Every time I went out I drank water, which was free. Everyone thought I was a teetotaler with some moral bee up my butt. But I was broke, and it hurt. It’s embarrassing not to have money for simple luxuries.

At the time I was writing frequently to a former boyfriend in South America. He wrote lovely letters, telling me that I was the love of his life and that there could never be another woman after me. Such lovely sentiments in Spanish. Life as a student in the UK was hard, and I fell head over heels for his promises of a lifetime of making love together. He proposed over email, and, swept away, I agreed.