Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Thanks for blogging with Rhi

I'm not quite used to this format yet so bear with me. I forgot to mention that I would give some lucky poster today the choice of one of my Liquid Silver Titles. Any title available written by me, Rhiannon Neeley. So Caffey, you are the winner today. Email me at rhiannon@rhiannonneeley.com and let me know which one of my titles you would like and what format and I'll send that out to you.

Thanks again,

Another thanks

Thanks to everyone who blogged with me today...lol. Dee, Rhiannon and I sort of blogged over top of each other, but I hope you all got a chance to check out both of the releases for this week.

Maureen, if you could contact me at tffnyaaron@yahoo.com, I'll be happy to tell you what you won. :)

Thanks again and stop by on Feb. 13th when I'll be blogging again.


Thanks for blogging with Dee

Cheri, if you will contact me at dsknight@deesknight.com, I'll be happy to send you downloads of Resolutions and Ain't Your Mama's Bedtime Stories.

Thanks, everyone for blogging with me. I hope you all love I'm No Saint, Valentine as much as Rhi and I enjoyed writing it!

Please join me again this Thursday for my regular monthly blog.


Excerpt from Sindulgence.

Thought I'd go ahead and post an excerpt here before I break for just a short while to feed my own hunky guy. Here is a little bit from Sindulgence...
The scene begins as Clarice and her friend Jan enter the bookstore at the mall...

“One of these days you’ll find a man,” Jan said as they turned into the bookstore. “Then you can stop reading those trashy books to get your kicks.”
Clarice laughed again. “They’re not trashy, Jan. They have a plot—a story. They just spell out what a man and a woman do when they’re in love, that’s all.” And spell it out in vivid detail, Clarice thought, smiling.
Clarice glanced toward the cashier. He was there, Devon her favorite fantasy, looking every bit as dark and dangerous as one of the characters in her favorite line of erotic romance, ‘Ripped Lace’. ‘Ripped Lace’ books leaned toward the steamier side of erotic romance, pushed the boundaries. Clarice always found herself wondering what it would be like to do some of the things they wrote about in the books, some of the more ‘exotic’ things.
Devon glanced up, meeting her eyes. A smile curved his lips when he recognized her.
Clarice felt a zing shoot through her as she made her way to the romance aisle. Yeah right, she told herself, turning down the aisle. He’s what, maybe twenty-five and hotter that Hades. What would he want with you? What would you do with him if you did snare his attention? She couldn’t picture herself with a young man like Devon. Oh boy, it would be nice, but she would be so nervous about how she looked…the way her body looked. She felt warmth wash over her. It would be an experience that was for sure.
“I’ll be over here in home improvement,” Jan said, turning away. “I don’t want to be with you when you take those books up to pay for them.”
“Prude,” Clarice said, winking. She walked on down the aisle toward the shelf where the erotic romance was.
Crouching down, Clarice wondered why in the world they had to keep the erotic books on the bottom shelf. Didn’t do her knees any good. She ran her fingertip over the spines of the books, browsing titles, her mind lingering on the dark, sexy dream at the cash register. A man? Maybe not. Devon was young. They had only spoken a few times and he was funny and articulate but whether or not he was a ‘man’ remained to be seen. Oh, but wouldn’t she love the chance to find out!

Devon Lake was prepared this time. He looked up from the book he was reading at the cash register just in time to catch her watching him.
She was interested. He could feel it. A lot of older women, and younger if he was honest, liked his look. Devon appreciated that but normally didn’t acknowledge them with even so much as a glance, but this one…Clarice Johnson…was different.
Clarice. He knew her name from reading it on her credit card when she paid for her purchases and recently they had enjoyed conversation on a first name basis.
He loved it. Reminded him of ‘Silence of the Lambs’. Devon had an irresistible urge to go back in the stacks and whisper her name over her shoulder.
Sexy. Haunting. A good name for a woman who looked like she did. Her name may remind him of ‘Silence of the Lambs’ but her look—classic. Grace Kelly classic.
Shoulder length, honey-blond hair fell in silky strands around her porcelain face and her eyes…she had the deepest green eyes he’d ever seen. He could tell by the small lines at the corners of her eyes that she smiled often. It also spoke of her age. Maybe forty, he thought, though it was hard to tell sometimes. He was so used to the young flirty ones hitting on him that when the mature women approached him, he had trouble guessing their age.
But Clarice…her age didn’t matter.
Devon wondered if she was really that interested in him or just drawn by his looks. Yeah, so he had the black hair and dark eyes women seemed to crave ever since Disney’s Captain Jack Sparrow hit the screen but did she like him…as a person? Hard to tell. They’d only talked a few times and not about anything important.
He wanted to get to know her. She had such intelligence shining in her eyes and two weeks ago, he’d found himself checking her left hand for a ring. There hadn’t been one. He hoped that meant she was fair game. That’s why today he was prepared. Devon knew what sort of books she bought. Steamy romance. He’d never read one, sticking more to the classics, one of the things he got ribbed about constantly by his friends. But Clarice seemed to enjoy romance and wasn’t at all shy about him knowing what it was she read. Hell, the books were full of sex. He’d glanced through a couple and was surprised by how detailed the scenes were. What did surprise him was she leaned toward the more exotic titles. Either she liked sex or she was going without and getting her kicks from the books. He didn’t know which. But today, he had a plan.
He was going to plant the first seed today toward getting to know Clarice Johnson.
He watched as she ran her fingers over the titles, wondering what it would be like to have those elegant fingers trailing over…
“Hey Dev,” Chuck said, bumping against him as he moved in behind the front counter, “watching the housewife again, I see.”
Well, there it is...I hope you like it.

No Saints here....

Hi everyone! Rhiannon Neeley here. As Dee mentioned, I am here this afternoon to talk about our latest release, I'm No Saint, Valentine.

My story, Sindulgence, centers on a happily divorced woman 'of an age' and a younger man that could make anyone's mouth water just by breathing... (well, in my opinion anyway...I have sort of a crush on Devon Lake).

There is still a stigma that an 'older' woman shouldn't be with a younger man. Really. Even now. Sure it's okay for an older man to be with a younger woman. No one looks twice. But switch it around and people think, "wow, look at her. She's old enough to be his ____" Just fill in the blank.

Personally, I think that line of thinking is wrong. Double standard. So what if an older woman snags a young hottie. As long as they're not hurting anyone, what's wrong with it?

What are your thoughts on the subject? I say, if you're free to...go for it.


Excerpt from Candy Hearts and Flours - I'm No Saint, Valentine

Sorry to step on Tiffany's post, but she'll be stepping on me with her excerpt soon, lol. I have to go out for a little while, but will check in after I buy this week's hamburger!

[Scene is beside the Las Vegas Convention Center. Mariah leans against the building, hungry and with sore feet.]

She looked down again at her attire.

Some kind of black cowhide tube started at her waist and ended long before her knees, and a flimsy little scrap of material barely covered her breasts. Pointy-toed boots with unbelievably high heels made her feet ache as well as forced her to concentrate when she walked for fear of falling on her butt.

Even with so few clothes, the heat of the Las Vegas desert drained her energy. And when someone from Hell felt hot, it said a lot. Of course, it was a dry heat.

Besides being tired, hungry and hot, she was homesick and lonesome. Earth sucked! From what she now knew, people should be dying to get into Hell. Okay, so they did have to die. And there was a lot of pain and no upward mobility. Still… Anything was better than this.

She’d thought being removed from her sister’s torment would be the silver lining in this black cloud of punishment, but she even missed Cassandra, the whore-bitch. It occurred to Mariah that never once, in her two thousand four hundred ninety-nine years, had she been alone. Even with people milling around her, jostling, bumping and glaring, alone is exactly how she felt. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted her mother.

Would this horror never end? She’d been here two whole hours. To add immeasurably to her troubles, she’d found almost immediately that reaching her goal was going to be near impossible. She couldn’t tell a good man from a bad man. Not by looking at him, at least. How on Earth was she supposed to locate a saint? She’d tried hard to remember the childhood stories her mother told Cassandra and her at bedtime, about the horrible saintly men who killed little demons, and how she should run if she ever saw one. All she recalled was that they all seemed to be poor and humble. Who would choose to live like that?

“Some stupid Earth person, ” she muttered.

Within minutes of her arrival, she’d approached a likely looking candidate. He wore ragged clothes and sat on a street corner begging for coins.

“Hello, are you a saint?”

He took his eyes off the passing throng and focused on her. “Baby, I’m anything you want me to be.” His dirty hand touched her leg, edging up under her cowhide tube and she’d felt his soul through his fingertips. The filth on his body didn’t begin to match the ugliness inside. This man already belonged to her father.

“Never mind,” she sing-songed, and click-clacked away down the sidewalk. Since then, she’d made some contact with hundreds of men, and none had pure, shining souls. Different men exuded distinct smells, though. The darker the soul, the more Hell- like the odor. She’d actually found herself gravitating toward men with dark spirits because the rich scent of burning flesh and the acrid sting of sulfur in her nostrils reminded her of home.

She gave a grunt in protest of the pain shooting from her cramped toes to her hips. If she wanted to get home, there was nothing for it but to locate a good man and turn him bad as soon as possible. To that end, she watched from the shadows, sniffing and examining people as they entered and exited to determine if anyone warranted further investigation. She was wishing for the millionth time that she had never given that ingrate a sip of water no matter how his naked form had made her feel, when she sensed him. Or rather, she didn’t sense him, and that was the key.

A large group of people were entering the building and she couldn’t pick out her target from a distance. There was nothing to do but follow the leader, a rather handsome, dark-haired man in form- fitting blue leggings. She attached herself to the crowd and entered the lobby of the building.

The closer she got to the dark- haired man, the more she felt a tingly stirring deep inside. Not just excitement that he might be her quarry, but something else, too. Something she came close to feeling with the Water Guy. From the back, his leggings hugged a tight butt. His narrow hips topped firm thighs. He was tall with broad shoulders that looked as though they could carry the world. She didn’t understand why, but she hung back observing him.

Stopping before a table, he engaged in conversation with a woman seated there. Mariah wanted to scratch out her eyes for no reason other than she spoke with the man and Mariah didn’t. He exchanged some papers he pulled from his leggings for a paper with a number on it, and strolled into a larger area.

Bypassing the table, she hurried after him, passing through open doors and past a man who smelled vaguely of overripe turnips. Not a bad man, but with possibilities for daddy, she thought.


Mariah slowed her charge, trying to find her target in the chaos around her.

“Ma’am!” the voice shouted now. People all around her stopped and turned. Including her guy, who had been just a few feet ahead.

Holy Satan! He made the jerk in the Second Circle look like a sissy-girl. Under his thin, stretchy shirt, biceps bulged, but nothing else on his torso did. No. His chest looked wide and strong and his stomach flat and hard as one of Hell’s anvils. But his eyes captured her attention the most. The darkest blue stared back at her—in fact, his gaze had lighted on her immediately instead of what everyone else focused on behind her. For the life of her, she could have remained forever and a day, just like this, if he hadn’t smiled. A simple upturn of the lips caused her heart to race and her breath to catch. Such joy, such promise showed in that gesture. And it was all for her. Instinctively she knew that.

“I believe he’s calling you, ” the man said, striding back to her and removing his head covering. A lock of midnight hair cascaded onto his forehead.

She reached out and brushed the errant strand back in line with its mates, and the world around them stood still.

Blinding light coursed from her fingertips, up the length of her arm and down through her legs and feet, discharging like a bolt of lightning. The light had been white and pure as nothing she had ever imagined. He had no odor other than a clean scent of crisp air. She returned his smile.

This was her challenge, her test.

And when she prevailed, he would be her prize.

Super Bowl Entertainment

(c) 2006 Tiffany Aaron


Ten years of playing pro football has gotten Donovan Klasek two bad knees, a bad shoulder and an addiction to pain killers. Now he’s free of the addiction and ready to watch his younger brother play in the Super Bowl. Donovan loves his bar, but part of him wishes he had another chance at the big game.

Johnni Aitken has always been her daddy’s girl. She can rattle off football stats with the best. When she gets a job waiting tables at Donovan’s bar, she can’t believe her luck. Football is a religion to her and Donovan has been the star in several of her fantasies. But a football star like Donovan would never look at a tomboy like her.

What happens when a man beat up by life meets a woman longing to heal his heart?

So this is my newest release. I'll be posting an excerpt a little later, but until then I'd love to hear if any of you are Sports Widows? My dh loves football and hockey. On Sundays during football season, we spend three hours in front of the tv, watching his favorite team. Which on certain days is more depressing than others...lol. Last year was awful because we didn't have any hockey to watch. :(

So let me know what your man obsesses over..whether it's sports or anything else. I'll be picking a winner from the comments for a great prize at the end of the day. don't forget to check out Dee S. Knight and Rhiannon Neeley's new release, I'm No Saint, Valentine as well.


Passion Knows NO Barrier

Being a Saint is highly overrated

So say, Rhiannon Neeley and me, Dee S. Knight.

We think you'll agree now that I’m No Saint, Valentine is out and about. I’m going to handle the early session of our Morning After blog. Then around 4 PM, check back for a visit with Rhiannon Neeley.

In No Saint, our stories are very different. Rhi’s “Sindulgence” is a contemporary about a forty-six year old divorced woman who’s attracted to a twenty-five year old man (whoa, mama! Who wouldn’t be?). But Devon is more than young and good looking as sin, he’s warm and has a wonderful sense of humor, is a great conversationalist, and sexy, sexy, SEXY. I want him myself…

Anyway, Clarice has a few doubts about the wisdom of starting a relationship with Devon—she has a son about his age and there’s that whole society thing. Her friend, Jan, voices objections right off the bat. Devon is more open to taking a chance, thinking he can conquer all—just like all warm, humorous, conversant, sexy, twenty-five year old men.

By contrast, my story, “Candy Hearts and Flours,” is a fantasy about a demon and angel. Mariah, the demon, has trouble being bad. Because of this, her father throws her out of Hell for one week in Las Vegas. (Some might wonder if there’s a difference, but there IS. Be nice—I love Las Vegas.) Mariah’s dad has told her to seduce a saint in one week or don’t bother coming home. The angel, Patrick, is also in Las Vegas, and would be perfect for Mariah to seduce. Too bad she thinks he’s wonderful. Rather than damn him to Hell for all eternity, she tries to avoid him.

Patrick is in Las Vegas to create a fantastical cake at The Candy Hearts and Flours Contest, which ends on Valentine’s Day. Patrick really likes Mariah, though he figures out she’s there to capture a soul. He tries to avoid her, lest he give in to her temptations, but when he sees her turn her attention to someone else in the contest, he decides to sacrifice his own honor to save the other man’s soul. Or IS that the reason?

So, in both stories we have improbable pairs. They shouldn’t be attracted to each other, but gosh darn it, they are.

Which brings me to my question. Have you ever been attracted to some unlikely other? Was there (is there) anyone you wanted to approach but were too nervous to, or every time you got close something happened to stop you?

I’ll be back in a few hours to post a short excerpt of “Candy Hearts and Flours,” and tonight I’ll choose a blogger at random to receive downloads of Ain’t Your Mama’s Bedtime Stories and Resolutions.

SEx ... Silver Expressions

SEx ... Silver Expressions

Suppose I couldv'e picked my download winner last night...DUH! Slipped my mind. Ok...eeny, meeny, miny, moeee....Mahaira:)Email me at BrooksAlyssa@msn.comYAY!

Monday, January 30, 2006

Secret Sex Toy Blog Winner

Yes, I played a Secret Cupid trick this time around. The contest for a signed copy of Treading the Labyrinth was announced this evening at the Liquid Silver Readers list at Yahoo Groups. The first person from that list to hop to SeX and make a comment won the prize.

Yes, I am tricky, but then so is Cupid. :)

And the winner is ......... Robin49. Thanks for playing, Robin49. Please e-mail me at raemorgan@worldnet.att.net to give me a snail mail so I can send your book to you.

For those of you who have never visited the Liquid Silver Readers list -- please do. We have lots of fun and lately lots of drool-icious pics of hunky men.

The addy - click here

Hope to see you there!!


SEx Toys: The Valentine’s Day Edition

Okay, the sexiest day of the year will soon be upon us. Oh, every day is the sexiest day of the year for you? Lucky, lucky girl! Unfortunately, some of us have to wait for good old February 14th, Valentine’s Day. Yep, the day the nearly naked cherub-y looking midget in a diaper starts flinging arrows right and left, forcing certain significant others into buying us sexy, romantic loot. Most of which will either be consumed immediately or never worn again, consigned to the black hole at the back of the drawer.

As a public service to SEx visitors, I’ve ventured onto the Internet to find the perfect Valentine’s Day gifts. You know, the kind that keep on giving. Yes, folks, these are unique, non-consumable (for the most part, I have to admit I couldn’t resist a few tasty treats!) and indestructible (well, maybe, it all depends on ... well, “usage”) gifts.

Note to readers: I am not posting the web sites here, but will respond to inquiries as to where to find these perfectly stupendous gifts over at the Liquid Silver Readers Loop at Yahoo Groups. Purely in the interest of public service, you know.

All righty then, let’s start with what can be classified as the PG-13 gifts. Romantic, but not risky or risque.

Kama Sutra Kit: Contains body oils and dusts that can be, um, licked or eaten off the body. Plus lubricants, well, for you know, lubricating those areas that need such. And a handy-dandy little feather duster for the body dust and just general playfulness. A box full of fun for less than $30.

Cinnamon Lube: Makes his purple penis of pleasure all slippery and tasty as a cinnamon cookie lollipop. Oh, and the lube heats up, an interesting sensation for those private areas, male or female. A bargain at less than $10. Combine it with any of the other kits in this blog for an extra special treat.

Cupid’s Massage Kit: A heart-shaped box containing massage oil that gets warm when kneaded into tight, hard muscles (wheresoever they are located ) and full instructions on how to perform the perfect, loving massage. Not edible like the Cinnamon Lube. Less than $15.

Bed of Roses Kit: Lots of silk rose petals to spread on the bed for, well, a bed of roses. Rose-scented bubble bath. Edible chocolate massage oil. You knew that chocolate had to figure in here somewhere, yes? Beats Godiva all to pieces for originality. Bliss balm, not sure, don’t ask, use your imagination, I’m just reporting here. A massager. And a sexy invitation to a night of bliss all in a black satin bag. Less than $30.

Kama Sutra Paint Box:
For the serious chocaholics. Two ounces each of white, milk, and dark chocolate edible paint with a paintbrush. Rembrandt would be proud. For the artistic among you. Less than $40.


R-Rated - - these gifts are romantic, fun, and personal but not so kinky as to need lock and key.

Red Hot Adjustable Cuffs, matching blindfold and feather tickler with kiwi-strawberry warming lotion. For the fun-loving couple. All for less than $25.

Shopper’s Alert: Of course, you can always just bop down to Kroger’s (a Midwestern grocery chain) and buy pink fuzzy handcuffs – I swear I’m not kidding. Right there, Aisle 10, next to the sweet tart heart-shaped candies and the red, white and pink M&Ms and across from the Baking Items. :)

Sexy Dice: A pair of dice. Duh! One die has the actions to be performed; the other, the parts of the body on which said action is to be performed. You won’t see these dice on any craps table in Vegas. The number of combos? 1x2x3x4x5x6x7x8x9x10x11x12 – you do the math. Less than $10.

Treasure Pillow: A pillow in red flames fabric that has a secret compartment for your toys. Every boudoir should have one. $35.00


X-Rated, HOT gifts for the more adventuresome couple.

Sybian Sex machine: Remember that blog on vibrators? Where I said that the Hitachi Magic Wand was the primo vibrator out there? Well, I was wrong. Yes, I can admit when I am wrong. Whereas the Hitachi is the Mercedes of vibrators and the Eager Beaver is the Cadillac - - this little machine is the Bentley. Unlike other vibrators which require a hand to hold the vibrator in place, the Sybian is meant to be ridden. Yes, you read it correctly, ridden! - - just as you would ride your lover. The Sybian has many attachments for insertion and the motor has no time limits. The use of the machine in your sex play is only limited by your or your partner’s imagination. Costly, but for the gift that really keeps on giving, a sound investment. Approximately $1,400.

Bondage bed sheets: Just what they sound like. Attachments on the sheets keep your partner where you want him or her. You know you want them! Less than $130.

Passion’s Prisoner: A set containing wrist restraints, blindfold, feather tickler, tweezer nipple clamps, and a soy body wax candle that can be dripped onto your bound partner and then massaged into their skin. All for $50.

My Sexy Valentine: A sonic vibrator ring to place on his penis to stimulate your clit. Yes! An orchid g-spot vibrator for that extra oomph. Babe lube for a smooth insertion, and batteries for the toys. $30.

Penis Dildoes: Your choice of colors. 7 inches long and 1.75 inches in diameter (that’s 5.5 inches around, gals!). $15


If you want it really big!! A Jeff Stryker penis dildo, measuring 10 inches long (yes, almost the length of a ruler!! Oy!), 2 inches diameter or 7.5 inches around. Yowza. $64.

There you have it. Lots of yummy, sexy ideas for Valentine’s Day.

Print out the list and leave it lying around for your mate to find. Highlight the ones you want, better yet, rank them as to priority. This year get what you really want for Valentine’s Day. And be sure to show just how appreciative you are when you get one of these super gifts. I would hate to see all my research go to waste.

Have a Happy and SExy Valentine’s Day!

Rae Morgan
Author of “No Secrets,” Book 4 in the Coven of the Wolf Series Due out on February 20th in ZODIAC PISCES

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Howdy everyone!

Welcome to Alyssa's Aphrodisiac Café. Fruit and chocolate are on the menu today, so get your taste buds ready!

The term aphrodisiac goes back 5000 years, and can be defined as an agent which causes the arousal of sexual desire. In other words, food that will get you in the bedroom...or maybe food that you will take in the bedroom with you!

Chocolate has been found to contain substances called Phenylethylamine and Serotonin, both of which are mood lifting agents that occur naturally in the brain. Simply put, when these agents are elevated, we feel happy, just as we do when we are experiencing love, passion, and lust. This causes a rise in blood pressure, increasing the heart rate, and inducing feelings that border on euphoria.

In the past, many fruits were considered erotic simply because of they resembled male or female genitalia, which is why I chose the banana for today's recipe. One look at this phallic fruit, and we can see why, but actually, the banana's aphrodisiac qualities go much farther than it's shape alone. Bananas have been associated with erotic energy in the Tantric tradition. Legend has it that the serpent that tempted Eve hid in a bunch of bananas. Now, scientifically, we also know the banana is rich in potassium and B vitamins, necessities for sex hormone production.

So, to get you started on your journey of Aphrodisiac-enhanced love, here's a recipe:

Frozen Chocolate Covered Bananas
3 Bananas
6 Popsicle sticks, wooden
1 cup Orange or lemon juice
1 cup Chocolate chips
2 tb Oil
¾ cup walnuts; chopped

Cut bananas in half and insert popsicle stick lengthwise through center. Roll in orange or lemon juice and place on waxed paper. Place in freezer until frozen firm. Melt chocolate chips and oil on top of double boiler. Spoon chocolate over frozen bananas and then roll in nuts. Feel free to take this cool treat into the bedroom, and use it to tease both body and senses.

Don't have the time for both cooking and sticky clean up?

Grab a banana and bottle of chocolate syrup. Using the fruit, smear the syrup all over your lover's body, then lick clean!

A little disclaimer folks...though the banana may resemble male parts, it is not meant for, ahem, insertion! If it breaks, you could be in real trouble, so don't try it!

Next up, we have the beautiful, popular strawberry! In provincial France, strawberries were regarded as an aphrodisiac. Newlyweds were served a cold strawberry soup. The strawberry was a symbol for Venus, the Goddess of Love, because of its heart-like shape and red color. Have you ever eaten a double strawberry?

Legend says that if you break the strawberry in half and share it with a member of the opposite sex, you will soon fall in love with each other, and lovers feeding each other strawberries while sipping wine has become a modern day staple in glossy magazines and romantic interludes.

Here's a quick and simple recipe for your next date night:
6 ozs dark chocolate
12 strawberries
2 tablespoons heavy cream

Heat the chocolate and cream over a double boiler (using simmering, not boiling water). Once the mixture is melted, dip each strawberry in it and place the chocolate covered fruit on a rack to cool. Refrigerate for half an hour. Enjoy!

Check out my novella, Fighting Fire for a H-O-T food play scene. And make sure you do it soon, because it will no loner be on sale as of this spring.

Okay, folks. It's your turn to share!

What's you're favorite 'sexy' recipe? Do you have any humorous food-in-the-bedroom moments you'd like to share? Any tips, or fun stories with foods, or other aphrodisiacs? I'll select one lucky winner from the comments on this to receive a free download from me.:)

Do tell!

What Women Want . . .

. . . to hear in bed.

According to AskMen.com, women are verbal creatures at heart (and we all could have told you that!).

They give several suggestions for men to verbalize what's going on, how the woman is making him feel, during lovemaking.

What do you like to hear from your man? (Or what would you like to hear that he doesn't say?)

And, is it the same for men? Or are our gasps and moans enough?

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Creating the Perfect Man

SEx ... Silver Expressions

In the world of romance writing, there is a neverending search for the perfect hero. Alas, as we all muddle through real life, we we realize that these wonderful men found in stories do not exist. I'm determined not to give up hope. In fact, I have decided to go in search of a way to create the perfect man. The question is: how? Well, I've come up with a few ideas and I'm wondering which would be the one a reader would enjoy most.

Cyber Boyfriend

Imagine a web site where you could input all your wants and needs and the perfect man would show up on your doorstep in two to three business days. If you don't like him, you can return him and get one that's more your size. The only problem is where does reality start and fantasy end.

Doll turned Boyfriend

In a kinky sort of Pinocchio story, it would be nice to build the perfect man from the foot up, giving great detail to the important parts in between. Considering I myself have no visual artistic talent, I wouldn't know where to begin. But how about a sculptor who has taken it upon herself to create the perfect man in stone. When he begins haunting her dreams, her deepest desire is fulfilled when he comes to life. How can she keep him around forever?

Working with what you got

As imperfect as he is, just about every woman has a dream man in her life she'd like to tweak into shape. In my case, I'd like to hit him over the head with a frying pan a few times to make him come to his senses. Wouldn't it be nice to have a little concoction for him to drink and he magically tansforms into what I want him to be?

From the Book of Questions...

*YAWN* I hate it when Tina interrupts my beauty sleep! She needs to get laid or something!

Anyway, I've got two things for you today. Some yummy, lickable, muscled eye candy, and a question.

Now, it's kind of a serious question, and as you know, serious and me in the same sentence isn't normal, but I thought this one was worth finding out answers too.

But first, the eye candy...


You have the chance to meet someone with whom you can have the most satisfying love imaginable--the stuff of dreams. Sadly, you know that in six months the person will die. Knowing the pain that would follow, would you still want to meet the person and fall in love? What if you knew your lover would not die, but instead would betray you?

In love, is intensity or permanence more important to you? How much do you expect from someone who loves? What would make you feel betrayed by your mate--indifference? dishonesty? infidelity?


Friday, January 27, 2006

Winner of Free LSB Download

The winner of the free Liquid Silver Books download is Meljprincess! Mel, email me at tm-sharp@hotmail.com and tell me which LSB e-book you want. I'll contact the author and have them send it to you! Congrats!

Thanks to everyone who commented! It was a blast!

Sexy Scents

Sense of smell is powerful. Like a song, a certain smell and bring you back to a memory so strongly it's as if you're right back there again. I was listening to a radio show the other morning, and the DJs were doing a call in show about what smells turn people on. It was interesting. One woman called in and said that the smell of cucumbers did it for her. A guy called in and said that the smell of a woman's feet did it.

I get a lot of compliments from the guys here at work about my perfume, Samsara by Guerlain. I mean a LOT. I've even had one guy email me about it. So there's a tip for you, ladies! Go getcha some! Samsara, that is. Or whatever else *grin*

This is from Ask Men. Other scents which arouse:

1- Vanilla-Like the smell of chocolate, vanilla has a sweet, welcoming scent. Its odor increases sexual stimulation in both men and women. So the next time you're ready to get sexual with your girl, invest in a vanilla candle or burn some oil to set the mood.

2- Patchouli-Patchouli has received much positive press in recent years, all thanks to its ability to make people horny. Okay, maybe not, but it does smell awesome. Experts believe that it awakens and provokes sexual energy and every little bit helps, so experience the scent via incense sticks. Burn one today.

3- Musk-Although musk is known to closely resemble the scent of male pheromones, what should concern you significantly is the fact that musk will quite possibly drive her crazy. So invest in some cologne that lists musk as a main ingredient and let her do the rest. If you don't want the cologne, there are incense sticks, as well as oils, available.

4- Peppermint-Ah, that minty fresh scent. Peppermint is believed to help you stay awake, alert and energized; that's always a good thing when it comes to sex. This might also encourage your girl to try something new in the bedroom. You can opt to emit the scent via a candle, incense or oil.

5- Ylang Ylang-Have you ever smelled ylang ylang? It really does smell like sex is about to take place. So if you're in the mood for some erotic sex, burn some oil or buy some room spray. But be careful; this fresh scent is known to encourage verbal communication.

6- Jasmine-With its subtle scent, jasmine has the ability to open the other senses to new experiences. If you want to seduce her, use jasmine in an oil or incense.

I love the smell of a guy freshly out of the shower. That soap and water smell. Love it.

What about you? I'll choose a name at random for any free download at Liquid Silver Books!

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Winner of Dee's blog -- Loving Gifties

I hope Nicole will contact me (at dsknight@deesknight.com) with her full name and address so I can send her an autographed copy of YOUR DESIRE. So many of y'all told me about special gifts, but Nicole, it was those hydrangeas that I thought were so neat!

Thanks everyone for blogging with me!


Confessions of This Writer

So that bon-bon eating, dressed in silk robe and slippers image has been shattered for good when it comes to the daily life of this writer. Yes, then came DEADLINES! LOL! I never really thought that my writing career would be lilke that, but it amazes me that others think so. Sometimes, I feel like pulling them aside and say, "Honey, please! If only you knew..."

Writing is a wonderful escape from the full-time job, family that still doesn't understand the meaning of "MY" time and the normal insane demands of life! I lean on it, take my frustrations out on it and my characters end up doing some things the shy part of me would never do, but that's half the fun!

What's my routine? Prayering to avoid King Procrastination and Queen Blank Page. Yep. I'm not one of those writers that outlines. I believe every writer has a definite route of how they go about creating exciting tales of intrigue, desire and SEX! I'd say about 40% percent of my plotting is done in my head - explains all those migraines. LOL. And the other 60% is character controlled.

I'm interested to know...what's everyone's routine?


Loving Gifties

I don’t know about you, but I’ve received some interesting gifts in my married life. When I was still living at home, my mom bought the gifts from both her and dad, but husbands don’t always understand about gifts.

Case in point. Years ago, hubby bought me a tweeter and woofer sound system for the computer. Great gift? Well, maybe. If we actually used the sound on the computer. I sure never did. He seemed so pleased I just smiled and said, “Thanks, Honey. Wow! How did you ever think of such an imaginative gift?” I really meant that last part.

Then there was the time he gave me a digital camera, printer, two extra memory cards, case—the whole works. This for a person who goes to once-in-a-lifetime events and always forgets to bring the camera. I unpacked boxes that have been in storage for two years and just found two of those throw-away cameras with unused pictures. Again, I smiled and said thanks.

Now he has given me great gifts before—like a Kitchen Aid mixer one year, and a big Baby Ruth candy bar, all nicely wrapped under the tree this last Christmas. But he’s certainly had his share of weird ideas.

One thing I know I’ll never get from him is flowers. He says they die and he doesn’t want me thinking of him while looking at drooping roses. I imagine “drooping” anything is bad for a man, lol.

In today’s drawing, I’ll be giving away an autographed print copy of Your Desire. That’s a book hubby and I wrote together. He thought of the concept and title, knowing of course that my only real desire is him.

So, give me an idea of some of your wacky gifts, or special gifts. Sometimes the smallest little things light up your whole life. What does that for you?

SEx ... Silver Expressions

SEx ... Silver Expressions

And the winner is...

TRACE! I've already emailed Trace--but just in case...oh, Trace...please contact me at darragha @ gmail.com (no spaces)! Thanks for playing with me yesterday, ladies! -- Darraghaaaaa :)

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Men Better Left as Fantasies

I'm talking about the guys in your past that are the stuff of fantasies now. The bad boyfriend with amazing *talents*, the wildly handsome bank guard that caused you to drain your bank account because you kept going in just to see him. Oh, yes...we know, don't we? The ones that got under our skin.

Obsession? Yep. Been there. That bank guard...he was real. Name was "Stu." He was a mixed race man o' pure beauty. Half African American/Half Asian. Oh, my Gods...he was so beautiful. At the time I was married to "Mr. Wrong" and I'll tell you...it was better for me to come home and take a "daydream" nap to have private thoughts about Stu than it was to be married to Mr. Wrong. My fantasy was much safer!

Oh, and Ryan. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. Korean, adopted with 10 other kids and raised on a farm. Just sweet as pie. Showed interest in me when I was in my still-very-innocent phase in life. Loved him. Oh, how I loved him! Never went all the way with him. He had an amazing p*nis. To this day I've never seen one as perfect. Smooth, thick, tan. Oy. Ryan came out of the closet when dating me. Broke my heart.

And then there's Bill! The seductor. The lion tamer. The most brilliant foreplay and most disappointing actual intercourse came via Bill. He made me a woman to "Dark Side of the Moon" by Pink Floyd in February, 1982. To this day, my favorite sexual fantasy is of *what almost happened* with Bill and his brother. In my new novel (writing in progress, "The Mooncusser," I actually used a memory of a time with old Bill as the basis for the first love scene between the hero and heroine. Found a photo on the Net of Bill. He's older. Ummm...so am I. Haven't seen him since 1983. But here's the "essence" of the man who has inspired so many lovely writings...the things that man could do with his tongue! Oh, my!

I'll post prize information a bit later...Now...tell me about your "men better left as fantasies" -- Darragha

And the winner is ...

Congratulations to Jennifer, whose post on the time travel topic today earned her a chance in the drawing. She wins a download in her choice of format of AQUARIUS, the latest volume in the Liquid Silver Books Zodiac series. Please contact me via e-mail to claim your prize.


Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Heart of a Sorceress - excerpt

Thank you very much! Here's an excerpt from Heart of a Sorceress:

“Hello, Lara.” Sha’ul’s large frame filled the doorway. The torchlight glistened off his hair like sunlight off a raven’s wings. “May I come in?”

Lara blinked hard several times, not sure if this were a vision. She tried to sit up and found she couldn’t. Her body felt like a sack full of rocks and pain shot through her muscles with the slightest movement. “My lord.” Her voice squeaked out in a strained whisper as she realized she’d fallen asleep without her prescribed bath. To her mounting horror, she couldn’t even remember what she’d done with the pouch of crystals. “I…forgot…can’t move.” She felt the tears coming again and clenched her teeth in determination to fight them.

Sha’ul chuckled gently and approached the bed. He knelt down beside her and tenderly pushed her hair back off her face.

Lara caught sight of a small clay vial in his other hand.

“I thought as much,” he said. “It’s not everyday your stepmother gives birth. I realized after you left yesterday that this might happen.”

“Yesterday?” Her heart pounded even as relief swept through her. “I fell asleep soon after I got back here and visited Ariana. Oh, I promised her I’d see her again before bed. I only meant to rest for a minute.”

He nodded. The pad of his thumb brushed lovingly across her forehead. “Your first day of training must have been exciting and stressful both. Between the sword and Ariana and…” His voice trailed off.

Lara caught her breath at the reference to what had happened between them. His touch on her forehead began to stoke her desire in spite of the guilt churning within her. “I’ve already failed my vow, my lord. After only one day you had to come fetch me because I disobeyed you.” She avoided his gaze.

“That’s not how it is, Lara. I came here for several reasons of my own.”

She stole a glance at him, surprised to see the gentle smile curving his masculine lips. “You did?”

“Aye. The first was to pay my respects to the Lady Ariana. The second was that I couldn’t wait to see you.” The dark of his eyes smoldered a deeper shade of brown. “The third was to help you be able to move again.” He sighed. “So you see, sweetling you didn’t fail. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve been through enough already.”

The endearment washed through her like a sensuous wave, as well as the reasons he’d enumerated for coming to Karan-ver. She cleared her throat, afraid her nervous voice would fail. “I’m sorry, my lord., but how will I be able to train today? I can’t even move.”

His smile widened, even though the color in his eyes continued to darken sensuously. “I can help you with that, Lara, that is, if I have your permission to touch you.”

She swallowed hard past the sudden lump in her throat. Her heart pumped madly. She nodded. “Aye, my lord,” she breathed, “you have my permission.”

He furrowed his brow. “I will need to touch you…familiarly.”

Lara stared up at him, wondering how much more familiarly he could touch her than he had yesterday.

“Not quite as familiarly as yesterday, but, well, you’ll need to undress.”

Her breath caught softly in her throat. Had he read her mind? Or were her thoughts so clearly readable on her face? She swallowed hard as he heart pumped fiercely. She nodded. “Aye, my lord.”

Sha’ul withdrew his hand from her forehead and set down the vial in his other hand. He moved to the foot of the bed and slipped off Lara’s boots, one by one. He looked at her. “Are you able to move enough to undo your trousers?”

She pulled her hands upward, but found them void of strength. “No, my lord.”

On his knees, Sha’ul maneuvered to the side of the bed. His large hands took hold of the corded belt and untied it. He stood and slipped his hands under the small of her back, pushing the trousers over her buttocks and hips before pulling them the rest of the way off by the legs.
Letting them drop to the floor, he kneeled by her once again. He undid the bow on her bodice, loosening the laces and with a hand on her back, gently lifted her and pulled the article off.
He let her back down carefully and looked at her, his eyes remaining fixed on hers. “I need to remove your garters and stockings,” he said quietly.

Lara swallowed hard. The garters and stockings were her only undergarment and the thought of his hands so close to her sex, his fingertips grazing her bare flesh sent up a throbbing in her core that both exhilarated and frightened her. “Alright,” she whispered.

Sha’ul pulled down the tails of her blouse, covering her to mid-thigh and reached underneath, his gaze fastened on hers.

Lara caught her breath as his warm fingertips grazed the flesh of her stomach, working open the ties of her garter belt. She heard the leather straps fall open and Sha’ul’s hands emerged. He pulled down her left stocking. The light material sliding down her skin along with his touch touched off waves of heat in her lower belly, down to her woman’s core, which ached for his caress. The same sensations and desires assaulted her when he removed her other stocking.
Now she lay nearly naked, except for the blouse. Sha’ul slipped his hands under her back again, helping her to ease over onto her stomach. Lara stared at the mud packed wall, which was all she could see. She couldn’t see Sha’ul, but she could feel his simmering energy close to her and hear his breathing, heavier, as if he were fighting for control.

Her ears tensed, listening to his sounds. He uncorked the vial he’d brought with him and poured some in his hands. She heard the quiet swoosh of palms rubbing together and then his hands, warm and strong, were slipping under her blouse and splaying over her bare skin. In slow, even circles, he rubbed he muscles, his fingertips easing away the soreness. Her muscles tingled pleasantly, from his expert touch or from the oily substance he’d put on his hands, she couldn’t tell; but the sweet aroma of herbs wafted to her nose and her body loosened and her eyelids fluttered closed.

The hem of her blouse played along the back of her thighs and gradually over her buttocks. She knew her bottom was now exposed to his view and her heart fluttered in her chest.

“What is that oil you’re using, my lord?” She needed to speak to ease the crashing of her heart and gut.

“Oil of dewberries,” came the murmured answer as his hands slid upward on her back, releasing the pain and tension. “A liniment you’ll be learning how to make before long.” His voice had taken on a velvety tinge.

“It has a beautiful smell.”

“Aye.” His large hands paused, palms down behind her shoulder blades. “Lara, do I have your permission to work on your…lower extremities.”

Her heart scrambled upward to her throat; or at least that’s what it felt like on the heels of his question. Almost as disturbing was how very much she wanted his hands all over her, exploring every fold and curve. She nodded. “Aye, my lord.”

Slowly, Sha’ul’s hands slid downward, past the small of her back, over the swells of her buttocks. Her breath hitched softly as he gently pushed the heels of his hands in and kneaded the flesh in tight circles, releasing the knots of tension. Pleasant waves of warmth shimmered through her bottom and into the slit between her thighs. His hands were only inches away from the hidden center.

Sha’ul worked the tightness out of her buttocks. He paused and Lara heard him pour a bit more of the dewberry oil into his hands, rub them together before the warm touch resumed on the back portion of her right upper thigh. He worked his way down her thigh to her calf and foot and back up. She suppressed a soft moan when his fingertips dappled over her sensitive inner thigh, moving dangerously close to the lips of her sex.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked. The tenor of his voice had grown husky and Lara swallowed hard.

“Aye, my lord. I can move again.”

He cleared his throat softly. “Good. I’m nearly done.” He moved his hands to her right leg and repeated the sensuously arousing process he’d done on her left.

In spite of her nervousness, Lara caught herself grinning like a satisfied cat.

Sha’ul lifted his hands off her leg and remained quietly kneeling by the bed. “I just have to do your arms when you’re ready.”

Her heart fluttered again. To massage the oil into her arms, he’d need to remove her blouse. “I’m ready,” she answered in a near whisper.

Sha’ul rose up and helped her to a sitting position before sitting down next to her. He picked up her left hand and rubbed it gently, his fingers still slick from the oil. “I’m glad this has helped you.” He looked at her, his eyes smoldering with obvious desire. “Unfortunately, my hands are too large to fit into your sleeve.”

Lara’s bottom lip trembled. “Unfortunate, my lord?”

A small, sideways grin teased at his lips. “Well, perhaps unfortunate is the wrong word.”

“May I ask you something, my lord?” She forced herself not to avoid his gaze, which caused her insides to melt.

He reached up and pushed a strand of her hair off her cheek. “Of course you may, Lara.”

She took a deep breath, shocked at the boldness she was about to exercise with her teacher. “Ariana told me that it…love…can be beautiful.” She felt her face cloud suddenly. “I would have had to serve Dogon, one of the queen’s ministers. Ariana saved me from that fate. He used to do terrible things to her. He…hurt her.” Ariana refused to tell Lara the details of what Dogon used to do to her, but she already knew because the day Dogon had come into the haram quarters and ripped off her gown, leering at her, he’d described in detail his wicked plans for her body on the night of her initiation as a bed-slave.

Sha’ul brushed his thumb across her cheek. “Praise to Galen that you and Ariana are both safe now.”

Lara nodded. His touch comforted her as much as it thrilled her and she savored the potent sensuality simmering between them. “Aye, my lord. I would have thought she’d fear intimacy, but she’s madly in love with my father and seems to have healed.”

He smiled gently, capturing her gaze. “I see that she is contented now. So, sweetling, what is your question?”

She swallowed past the lump forming in her throat. “I wanted to know if you feel the same as Ariana does.”

Sha’ul’s eyes darkened with a warm glow and his lids lowered, the long lashes forming a sensuous line across them. “Aye, Lara,” he whispered. “I do.” He leaned in toward her, sliding his fingers into her hair.

“I thought maybe…with you…I could heal…the same way.”

He gazed on her a moment longer. “I’m honored that you feel that way, Lara. I certainly want you to heal.”

“Then you would try?”

He smiled. “You told me yesterday you love me and I told you the same. The healing has already begun.” Cradling her head with his large hand, he slanted his mouth over hers in a tender kiss.

Lara’s eyes fluttered closed as his lips pressed against hers. His warm, musky scent mingled with the herb from the oil in an intoxicating blend. Her lips parted as her body weakened. Sha’ul’s tongue mated with hers, tasting her, stoking the already white-hot blaze in her loins.
After several moments, he lifted his face from their kiss and gazed down at her. “You’re enchanting, Lara,” he whispered in a husky tone.

Heat infused her cheeks and she looked down. “Thank you, my lord.”

“Now, I want you to be able to move your arms again.”

She glanced back up. “So do I.”

Sha’ul took hold of the hem of her blouse. “Lean forward,” he told her.

She obeyed and he slipped the blouse over her head, down the length of her arms until it was completely off. Her blush deepened as Sha’ul’s gaze roved from her face, over her breasts and stomach, to the vee between her thighs with its light curls.

His face darkened visibly from appreciation and desire. “By the gods, Lara, you are absolutely exquisite,” he murmured.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Reaching out, Sha’ul brushed his fingertips along her jaw, down her throat and across her chest. As he had the day before, he cupped her breast tenderly, this time, directly on her bare skin, brushing his thumb across her almond colored nipple. The soft tip pebbled immediately under his touch and Lara moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

In the next moment, she felt Sha’ul’s lips pressing against hers again and parted them to let his tongue plunder her mouth with mounting urgency. Her fingertips stole up to his cheek, brushing across the masculine skin. Though he was clean-shaven, she could feel the rugged whiskers of a heavy beard.

Emboldened, Lara reached around and pulled the leather tie from Sha’ul’s hair. The silky tresses spilled over his shoulders. She let it slip between her fingers, to the ends, which reached the middle of his broad back.

Sha’ul pulled away from their kiss and pulled off his jerkin and shirt. Lara’s gaze went immediately to his bare chest, perusing each hillock and sculpted line, to the small dark nipples and swirls of silky black hair, a line of which trailed down the center of his taught stomach and disappeared below the belt of his trousers. He chuckled softly. “It appears as if the appreciation is mutual.”

She nodded, looking down. “It is, my lord,” she murmured.

“Good,” he answered. “That’s the way it should be.” He turned and pulled off his boots and then undid the belt of his trousers.

Lara stared as he pulled them off, revealing his powerful legs, dusted with dark hair, and his buttocks, round orbs of hard muscle.

He turned back to her, giving her her first view of the intimate part of his anatomy, already fully erect. Her gaze was trapped by the thick shaft of purplish skin and veins, springing from a nest of dark hair. In spite of the fate she’d nearly met as a bed-slave in the palace, she’d not yet seen a naked man up close.

“Touch me, if you want to.” Sha’ul’s voice was a tight whisper. “Whatever you want, Lara. I’m yours.”

His invitation caused a trail of fire through her belly into her core. Gingerly, she reached out, splaying the fingertips of one hand on his chest. Her hand looked so small against the bulge of muscle, which quivered under her touch. His skin was warm and his breathing rose and fell raggedly under her palm. The pad of her index finger grazed his nipple. The skin was smoother and tightened when she rubbed across it.

Sha’ul moaned softly in his throat as she ventured back across his chest, feeling the etched definitions of the muscles, honed and strengthened from years of disciplined training and fighting with heavy broadswords.

Her fingertips grazed lightly down his abdominal muscles, savoring each warm inch of taut flesh. She heard Sha’ul’s breath catch softly as her hand drew closer to his erection, hard and pulsing.
“Don’t stop, Lara,” he whispered.

Fish out of water, or: What is it that draws us to a time travel story?

You're going to get two bloggers today. Two for the price of one: the Hart sisters!

Since my latest release (Heart of a Soldier) is a time travel story, I decided to blog today about the appeal of the time travel. Since reading Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Author's Court as a teen, I've loved the "fish out of water" element of a time travel story. If you're new to time travels, by all means read Twain's book. It's his best as far as I'm concerned.

H.G. Wells's The Time Machine, of course, was early science fiction. As entertaining as it was, it didn't compare to later variations of the theme. I loved the movies Final Countdown, Time Rider, Terminator, Somewhere in Time, Timeline, Back to the Future, and most recently, Kate and Leopold. With the exception of Twelve Monkeys, I've loved every cinematic variation on time-travel I've seen.

I'm even a fan of TV time travel (Time Tunnel, Voyagers, Quantum Leap).

Books that have entertained me with time travel romance include Legend by Jude Devereau and Timeless Passion by Constance O'Day Flannery. The strongest time travel romance I've read, however, was written by a man and remains my favorite time travel novel: Lightning by Dean Koontz.

So my blog question for you today is:

What is your favorite time travel story?
Everyone who comments (other than LSB personnel, who are ineligible) will be entered into a drawing for a free download of AQUARIUS, the latest in the Zodiac series from Liquid Silver Books! I'll be drawing at 9:00 PM EST.

Vanessa Hart

Morning After ... Vanessa Hart & Vivian Hart

Winner of Sasha White's Contest!

Robin49 please contact Sasha White at Sasha@SashaWhite.net to claim your copy of her e-book THE DEVIL INSIDE. Congratulations on winning the drawing!

Nessie, on behalf of Sasha

Monday, January 23, 2006

What makes a Hero?

HI All,

Sorry I'm late, kitty emergency. She's okay, and no, for those of you who know me well, I didn't hurt her with my playful torturing...I saved her from herself!!

Thanks, Vesperia!!

Moving on... I have to say... it was a little hard trying to come up with something to talk about after Dakota's gossip column. That woman sure has talent doesn't she?

I'm not going to rely on talent to keep you interested...nope. I'm gonna pick a topic that I think wuill get you all smiling on a Monday morning.


I want to know what you think makes a hero? It can't just be that he's the male lead in a story. In my opinion there has to be more to it than that. In some stories he's a rescuer...you know, the cop, the Navy SEAL, the Fireman. He's a resuer of all peopel and we all fall for him, the true Hero.

realcowboyhunkWhat about the Cowboy?

He's a great hero too. We all love a man that loves his horse. Even My mom in now a HUGE Viggo fan because she found out he liked the horse he rode in Hidalgo so much that he bought it. What is it about a man who loves his horse? (Or dog ) It makes us think he's got a soft spot somewhere in side, even if he's a bad guy. Does any one remember Johanna Lindsay's novel Angel? That was the first cowboy I fell for, and he was gunslinger. The original Bad Boy.

When you read a novel, does the cover picture of the hero get you daydreaming? Or is ithe words inside? The description the charcaterization? What really makes him a hero? His looks? Or His acts?

desk01_1024Has anyone seen Four Brothers? The misfits of society that one woman raised on her own? They're not nice guys...but I fell for each of them, because of the love they showed thier mother. They did some not so nice things, but I cheered them on. Now, Is that becasue it was a good story? Or good characterization? Or just cuz I think Marky Marky is Hot?

I think ultimatley , a hero is the man we fall for. He saves us from giving up on happily ever after, and he saves us from boredom. But for him to do that, he has to be engaging. He could be a dentist, saving people from rotten teeth, or an anti social, growly artist with a scarred face . . . .It's his actions that make the heroine fall for him...and it must be believable when she does fall for him...or I as a reader, won't.

What about you? What do you think makes a hero? What makes you fallfor him?

Morning bloggers

Sasha's running a little late this morning, so Tina asked me to come entertain you. I've got my star charts, my tea leaves, and my crystal ball all warmed up and ready...so, what do you want to know?


Sunday, January 22, 2006

And the winner is. . .

Elizabeth, with this comment for identification purposes :)

Hey Dakota
First, you get a song stuck in my head (fly me to the moon, great turn of phrase blog me to the moon). Then, you just gotta go that one step further huh? Not content with the song, you gotta make me roll around on the floor and get covered in dog hair. Satsified now? Or is there something else yet to come? *squinting suspiciously*. Seriously (nah, who wants to b serious?) that was hilarious. I especially like the dick, rod and peter. *chuckle*

She wins a Godiva Chocolate gift certificate and an unedited ARC of my upcoming release from LSB, Whose Bride Is She Anyway?

E-mail me, sweets at Dakota@dakotacassidy.com for the boo-tay!

YAY, Elizabeth--thanks to ALL who popped in!

Dakota :)

Got Wood?

Again, 'tis I, intrepid seeker of all things secret, Dakota Cassidy. Here with yet another bunch of naughty secrets to thrill, chill, delight and amaze you. Well, maybe you'll just be freaked out, but I take what I can get. LOL

Hoookay, so today we touch on a topic that is rather sensitive. However, seeing as I ain't the sensitive type, I'm just gonna hit y'all upside the head with it.

Oh, and remember DO NOT consider this a PROMO of any kind. Our old rules still apply. I will not, won't ever, wouldn't dream of telling you that LSB has some superb books and authors. I couldn't sleep at night if I thought you believed I'd hock someone's wares all out in public like that. It's blatant and if you know me, you'll know I am the sole of discretion...

(shut up, Michelle!) Ahem...

I'll also have you know, that I had to dig DEEP for this stuff. I mean, I'm bone weary. These LSB broads know how to make ya sweat and I don't just mean in a naughty love scene. Of course I don't mean that. That would be PROMO and it's not allowed on my watch. I'll take your gratitude in the form of checks made payable to THE DAKOTA NEEDS A NEW TIARA FUND. LOL

Okay, today's topic is -- Got Wood?

Lawd, did I get more than just some wood :)

Here's the skinny, I asked all of the authors of LSB to tell me if they'd ever had a past boyfriend or even if their hubbies and significant others, had a pet name for their pistols of passion.

Yes, I mean their procreators. Their weapons of mass destruction. Their PACKAGES. All men do, or at least most men do. They're terribly fond of the southern locales on their bodies. It only stands to reason that the island in tropical nether parts should have a name, yes? Of course it should. Any real man will tell you that.

I know, I know, you're all just chomping at the bit to know what I know, aren't you? Good gravy, did I have to dig for this stuff. If you only knew what I go through month after month. I think I broke a nail getting the scoop this time...

So, I've got lot's of names for a guys business when I write. I call it the meat whistle, the mighty fuck stick, the love gun, mini-me, magic Johnson, woody, the bologna pony, all sorts of stuff when my characters engage in dialogue. However, I had absolutely NO IDEA that the fine ladies of LSB and their DH's were so sordid, naughty, innovative. Well, there are some ex boyfriends in there too, but who am I to squabble?

We begin with author, Tracy Sharp--she wrote a book, but I simply cannot share with you the name of it, Cuz that would be PROMO. RepochickbluesRepochickblues. Tracy had a boyfriend and he liked to pretend he was French. Oui, oui, he did. He called his little buddy, Henri and he did it with a French accent. When she revealed this steamy morsel, I think I snorted Pepsi out of my nose. LOLLOL. Croissants, anyone?

Now, Darragha Foster says that she's encountered various ways one would choose to portray their little guy. "Who's your friend" and "Honking big one" was the turn of phrase, I believe. It makes you wonder just who your friends are, eh? In her novella (notapromonotapromo), for instance, she calls it a popsicle, tasty freeze and stalagmite. I think that book is called Cold Hard Kash, but I wouldn't know because this isn't a PROMO. LOLLOL

Rae Morgan's hubby has a veeerrry distinct name for it. He calls it the Purple Penis of Pleasure. Do you think it really is purple? I'm not sure I'm a believer. Seeing is believing, wouldn't you agree? Talk about your color wheel of life gone awry, huh? Do you think her heroes in her books, like the 4th Coven of the Wolf book that will be in the Zodiac Pisces, due out on Feb. 20th with another author Sherrill Quinn, use that term? Hmmmmmmmmm. I can't say for sure because this IS NOT A PROMO.

Sorry, I got a little zealous there. Phew.

Robin Danner has a friend whose name is Ben. Sigh...yes, indeed, you guessed it, he calls it Little Benji. Robin, a fine author of a book I refuse to promote (Vixen Virgens with Beth Williamson) wondered why he doesn't call it BIG BEN. Maybe he's modest? LOLLOL.

Speaking of Beth Williamson, she had someone in her life that simply called his nether friend, Candy. Like the Whoppers, ya think? Nooooo, indeed not. What he meant was "Want some candy, little girl?". Oy, vay even. Where are men like that when you need a good giggle?

Tiffany Aaron Sacks her Quarterback (notapromonotapromo) with the words pickle and Johnson. I think magic and Johnson go better together, don't you? Who am I to tell you what to call your er, friends...

Tina Holland says that her entire family has a name for their little buddies. Inadvertently, a rather odd trend began in her family. Her mother is married to a Dick, her sister is married to a Rod and her cousin is married to a Peter. This -- well, THIS speaks therapy in a very LOUD volume, yes? LOL

Let's see...who's left? Oh, I know. The diva of all diva's, troublemaker divine, Michelle Hoppe. I just shook my head when I read about her garage escapades and a thing called bemis. Don't ask, because again, I have nothing left. Something about being four years old and a you show me yours and I'll show you mine kinda deal.

Yeah, everybody say it with me -- riiiiiiiiight. LOLLOL

This concludes my dirt seeking mission for this month. The fine authors of LSB have left me weary. I'm spent from digging up the naughtiest of naughty for you and now, I really gotta get a massage and a manicure, cuz when I dug for the dirt, Michelle broke my nail. LOLLOL

Please enter the contest--all ya gotta do is sign your name to the blog and check back later tonight for the winner. E-mail me and I'll send you your boo-tay. That's it! Know what you'll win? I can't tell you ALL of the surprise -- *GodivachocolatesGodivachocolates*, but I promise, you won't be disappointed.

So do say hello to us and by all means, if you have a special name that you'd like to share--I'd LOVE to hear it!

Until next time -- This is Dakota Cassidy with all the dirt on some of erotica's hottest authors (some still under her nails) at Liquid Silver Books!

Saturday, January 21, 2006

My Confession Winner

Morning. Just quietly sneaking in to announce yesterday's winner of Scorpio. It's the self-confessed contest junky Mahaira who won a download of the story. Email me at jenna@jennahoward.com and I'll send you a copy.

Happy Sunday.

Jenna Howard
Dare to love...passionately.
Website | Afterthoughts Blog
Indulge Authors | Indulgence Blog

My Confession

Wait. Did you hear that? That was a New Year's Resolution disintegrating. Twenty-one days into the new year. That's got to be a record with me.

See, I have a teeny, tiny problem. My name is Jenna and I'm a Blog Crack Addict Whore. At the beginning it didn't seem like an addiction. I visited the blogs of my friends. My circle of reading was contained. And then...I branched out.

Big mistake. Huge mistake.

For once you go out there, you're in dangerous. There are treacherous blogs out there, my friends. Treacherous blogs! Blogs of excellent writing. Funny blogs. Thoughtful blogs. Smart blogs. Drunken singles blogs. There are blogs to be read. To be read!!! And then come the comments. Ahhh the comments. Once you comment, they've sucked you in. Suck. You. In. Because then you have to go back to read the response to your comment. And so begins the cycle.

The cycle of not writing. And that's the problem. I wasn't writing. Oh I tried but before long I'd be bloggin' forgetting about my gun-totting heroes who just want to bag the babe and the babe who just wanted to be bagged and the villain who needed to die. This was not good. Not good at all. And so I needed to get tough. I needed discipline. (pounds fist into other palm)

I sought advice that wasn't needed. The answer was simple: don't blog. Pardon me - laughter in my head. I dropped out of publisher blogging (it's going well...dontcha think?), I removed comments from my blog (for one weekend. Heck, it might have been one day.) and I cut down to 3 days a week on my own blog (that's going okay...so far.) The problem with not blogging is that I need to do something with all my spare time. Once the blogging euphoria faded, I looked around and realized my place was a pit so I cleaned. I. Cleaned. Let's just say that again: I cleaned. I'm still cleaning. I've organized the cupboard under my kitchen sink and bathroom sink. I've. Organized. Let's say that again: I've organized. Did you know my carpet was beige? Beige!

But no amount of bleach fumes can remove the need to blog. So...here I am. Falling of the blog wagon. Sigh.

But my intervention has one positive side effect. I'm writing. I. Am. Writing!! My business card is no longer a lie. Now I just have to finish what I'm writing and submit to my editors so they don't forget who I am. *cough* (waves to editors)

Sigh. I'm still bummed about not having discipline. It seems like such a cool thing to put on a resume. Jenna Howard Disciplined Writer sounds so much better than Jenna Howard Blog Crack Addict Whore.

To celebrate my falling off my blog intervention, I'm giving away a copy of Scorpio with my story Midnight Hour and Deanna Lee's She Was a Showgirl. Hurrah! Say it with me "Free book, free book!" I'll have to announce the winner tomorrow as I have my friend's daughter's birthday party tonight. Double digits - highly important you know.

You'll see me soon on A&E's Intervention: Confessions of a Blog Crack Addict Whore. It will be emotional. Everyone shall weep copious amounts of tears. It will win best reality show episode. Vin Diesel will say "Dang...that woman is grr sexy." and hunt for me and I will fulfill my dream of going to Jamaica on someone else's buck. I have big dreams. Big dreams! Oh, yeah, and finish a story for LSB. Very important. Thanks for letting me fall of the wagon, Tina. Whoo! Yeah for fallen resolutions. Whoo!

Jenna Howard
Dare to love...passionately.
Website | Afterthoughts Blog
Indulge Authors | Indulgence Blog

Yesterday's Winner

The winner of a free book download, mine or any LSB book, from yesterday's Sex and the City drawing is Miki. I have no e-mail address for you, Miki, so hope you see this post and contact me at bondav40@yahoo.com.
Have a great day, everyone.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Who are you?

We feel especially strongly about characters we closely identify with in stories. That’s what makes their journey so dear to our hearts. I’m taking the easy route in my blog today with a simple quiz you may have seen before: What Sex and the City woman do you identify with the most and why? You can also share which one is your favorite if you like, but this ‘test’ is mainly to find out which personality type matches you most closely. I hope a lot of you are viewers of this show but even if you’re not, you can still participate. Here’s a thumbnail sketch of each of the girls:

Carrie is the central character and the glue that holds the four friends together. She is a sex columnist with a bright, bubbly, often ditzy personality. Under her quick sense of humor is a vulnerable, self-doubting person. She is neurotic in her intense scrutiny of her own and others’ motivations. She’s an eccentric dresser and loves shoes.

Charlotte, the idealist, wants a traditional husband, home and children that will fit into her Better Homes and Gardens dream of what life should be. She is the person in the group most likely to display good manners and worry about society’s perception of her. She comes across prim and proper but can be as promiscuous as the rest of the girls.

Miranda is a workaholic lawyer. She is sharp-tongued, brittle and often rudely honest. But her controlling behavior and toughness protect a person afraid to love and be hurt. She is an extremely loyal friend.

Samantha is sex personified. She is brash, opinionated and determined to have what she wants whenever she wants it. Self-indulgence is a way of life for her and she believes she can escape commitment indefinitely. Samantha only rarely shows self-doubt, but, like the others, has her insecurities.

I’m hands-down Miranda, especially the rudely honest part which I’ve had to learn to curb. She is a pragmatist and so am I. She tends to be negative. I am less so, but do get impatient with what I consider peoples’ stupid behavior. Working from a center of logic instead of heart doesn’t make you the most warm, nurturing person in the world. When my daughters and I played the game, they shouted ‘Miranda’ in unison at me when my turn came. They know me well.

As for which character I like the most, I will pick the one few people do—Charlotte. Although she starts out the series with an overly idealized view of life, in the latter half of the final season she goes through some wonderful changes. I love her story and the different but much more “real” home she eventually creates.

Now you. Which Sex and the City girl are you? Winner of the drawing may choose from any e-book release at Liquid Silver Books or any of my current releases .

Thursday, January 19, 2006

I'm totally jazzed to see this movie?

Am I the only on jazzed to see this movie this weekend? Whoo hooo, I love kick-ass woman, in books and movies. Am I the only one?

What's an authors voice?

What is an authors voice?

How many times have we heard people in the publishing industry talk about how they love an author’s voice? Or readers talk about how much they love a certain authors writing. For the longest time, I didn’t understand what that meant. Even as reader, don't you find an author you simply love, and you're not sure why? It's probably their voice you love.

Now, ten books later, I’ve learned to honor my voice… but the question is… what actually IS an authors writing voice?

Webster's Dictionary has 5 different definitions of voice...

Main Entry: voice

1 sound produced by vertebrates by means of lungs, larynx
2 a sound resembling or suggesting vocal utterance
3 an instrument or medium of expression
4 wish, choice, or opinion openly or formally expressed
5 distinction of form or a system of inflections of a verb to indicate the relation of the subject of the verb to the action which the verb expresses

Wow, that’s a lot to swallow. Can I break that down?

Simply put, I believe an authors voice is THEM; how they think, how they feel, and how those emotions are weaved into their writing. I think this is probably why most of us authors are so insecure once we put our work out there for review, because, deep down, that book, is about us, and written with our voice and our emotions. It’s a little piece of us.

I remember my first re-write letter. It was six pages long. I scoured through it, underlined, bolded, tried to wrap my head around how I was going to change the book to please and satisfy the editor and give the publishing industry what I thought it wanted. After much musing, I found, there were just things about my book I didn’t want to change; things I considered… my voice, so I didn’t. I changed what I could and sent a letter explain why I wasn’t changing the remaining. It worked fine.

So who's your favorite author voice and why? What is it about their books you love so much?

Here I am... stand by guys, prepared to be blogged...

Where O' Where, has Rae gone...

I'm not catching a break this month! LOL. You think the authors are picketting some where? Am I over working them? I gave them bread and water so I don't know what the deal is...

Anyway, here's something fun for you to do today.

Follow this link

The Advertising Slogan Generator

Put your name in the box and get your personal slogan!

Post it here for all to see, they are hilarious!

What's mine?

You Can't Top a Tina.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


Okay, I’ve been tossing up about what to tell you during this particular blogging session.

In case you haven’t noticed, while I tend to have a ridiculously comical life, I am naturally a more sedate person. When given the choice between going out partying and reading a good book in the cool quiet of air-conditioning, I will choose the book and the air-con every time!

So in keeping with my tendency toward honesty, I decided that instead of writing a flippant, funny recount of my recent experience of struggling back into my clothes as the children came bounding up the stairs…I would spill my guts.

So here it is. I’m thirty-three years old in March. I had my first child at eighteen…that’s right, pregnant at seventeen, baby at eighteen. Since then, I have finished high school, gotten a Bachelor of Education, finished my Masters in Education and have taught high school for nine years. Simultaneously I was raising my son, falling in love with my current husband, incubating and producing the second munchkin.


So is it any wonder that for the last fourteen years I have not really had time to indulge my more feminine side, to pay close attention to my looks or even to really care about anything other than what I was doing at the time?

At thirty-three, I’ve just begun to get the time. I’m exploring fashion magazines, getting makeovers and only yesterday got my first ever set of fake nails. They’re great, French tipped to look natural, short enough with which to type but longer than my own garden-ravaged nails have ever become. So right at the moment…I’m LOVING being female!

The question is…where to draw the line. While getting my nails done yesterday I was exploring a magazine on plastic surgery…boob jobs to be more specific. Now this has been an issue in my mind for a while now. I’ve found a good surgeon, I’ve saved the money for the surgery and I’ve even garnered support from my beloved man…and still I’ve been holding off. Why? Because I wanted to be sure of my reasons. And now I am.

I want a chance at what I never had. I want to have the chance to revel in my body the way it was put together before the first baby. I want to look at myself in the mirror and be as proud of what’s on the outside as what’s on the inside. That’s why I go to the gym, eat healthy, go to the dentist and the hairdresser right? So why not?

What do you think? Am I right…or am I right?

Rebecca Williams

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