Tuesday, February 28, 2006

Winner of Repo Chick Blues Download

The winner of the drawing for a free download of Repo Chick Blues is Pink Pen! Congratulations Pink Pen!

Email me at tm-sharp@hotmail.com to let me know an email addy to send it to :)

Thanks to everyone who commented today. I had a great time!

Take care, all!

SEx ... Silver Expressions

SEx ... Silver Expressions
Hot From Scandal

Have you ever wondered where you draw the line between love and hate? Well, that's the journey Jake and Karen undertake in Hot From Scandal.

Hot From Scandal is the third in a trilogy that began with Hot Off the Press. And I've been wondering whether I should continue the series or not. I realize that between the police department, fire department and the newspaper in Chilhowee Cove, Tennessee, there might be a few more stories hiding in the shadows of the small town. Since Lexie, Karen, and Melissa are a pretty tight circle of friends, any other books will simply be related to the triology and not necessarily continuing stories. However, characters from these three books are scheduled to pop in every now and then so the reader can see that they really are having their happily ever after.

So what's next for Chilhowee Cove? Who will be the next lucky man to find a woman that fulfills all his deepest desires? Hmmm, maybe you'll just have to wait and find out.

Repo Chick Blues Excerpt


I was watching a documentary-type reality show about auto recovery agents one day and was struck by the fact that there didn't seem to be any female recovery agents. I know they're out there, but they are few and far between. Watching the show, I learned that auto recovery agents love the adrenalin rush of stealing cars. The rush is like an addiction to them. Auto recovery is one of the most dangerous jobs out there.

I found this intriguing. I began wondering what kind of woman would be drawn to auto recovery. What kind of past she would've had to draw her to want to put herself into such a dangerous job. There are many jobs out there, why auto recovery. I couldn't let the idea go, and Leah Ryan was born :)

Then her boss/partner Callahan Parker was born, and the story got really interesting. *Grin*

Excerpt from Repo Chick Blues

We dropped the car off at the repo depot and exchanged it for the sleek bike Jack had made for the dorky loser who didn’t deserve it. It might be petty, but it bothers me when beautiful machines such as that bike and the gorgeous Rubicon Jeep Wrangler fall into the hands of spoiled brats who would never appreciate them.

Oh yeah, I’m bitter.

I needed to drive and Cal sensed this, so there was no argument from him when I donned a helmet and climbed onto the front part of the seat.

“I’m surprised you wear a helmet. You seem like such a daredevil,” Cal said, placing the other helmet over his head.

“I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid. Ever see a head that’s been smashed all over the road?

“Um, no.”

“You wanna keep it that way.”

“You’ve seen a head smashed all over the road?” He wrapped his arms around my waist.

“I used to run with a wild crowd. Some of them thought they were too cool for helmets. One of them looked anything but cool when his head was being scraped off the pavement.” I blinked
away the memory of that image. “The others began wearing helmets after that.”

I revved up the engine and headed north, speeding along the river. We bulleted down the highway with an icy wind against our faces. The faster we moved, the clearer my mind became. Tension fell away from me, leaving me feeling lighter.

We kept going until we reached Lake George. I pulled into a parking area across the road from the beach. The water looked black at this time of night and only a few stray wanderers made their way along the street. I climbed off the bike, pulled off my helmet and shook my head. With my short, wavy hair, there’s not much else I can do. It looks awry all the time.

When we walked across the road toward the lake, I couldn’t help but think how beautiful a night it was. I found myself wishing that we’d found our way there under different circumstances.
We headed down to the beach, feeling the sand slip and slide beneath our feet. It was a gorgeous night. The humidity level was low and there was just a slight nip to the breeze. Some would’ve wanted a sweater or light jacket on such a night but I welcomed the cooler air. It had been too hot for so long.

“It’s nice out here.” There was a touch of huskiness to his voice. He looked nice staring out over the dark ripples with the moonlight touching his dark hair.

I nodded. “I like it when it’s quiet like this.” It felt strange being out here with Callahan. I was reminded of awkward first dates. Although we’d had sex, amazing sex, neither of us knew quite what to say. All we knew was that we didn’t want to discuss work or drug lords who tricked innocents into prostitution.

I sat down on the sand, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around my shins, rested my chin on my knees. Silhouettes of seagulls moved in slow circles over the water. Their cries, caught in the wind, sounded lonely.

Cal sat down beside me. He picked up a small stone in the sand near his feet and tossed it into the water. “Too choppy for skimming.”

I had an unexplainable urge to go skinny-dipping. “But not for swimming.”

He turned and looked at me, his expression surprised and a little amused.

I leaned back on my elbows and crossed my legs, letting one move lazily up and down. This felt suspiciously like flirting. “Wanna get crazy?”

He looked around, making sure nobody was on the beach or watching nearby. A crooked smile came across his face. “Okay.” Cal was like every other red-blooded male out there. Most men would take their clothes off in a blizzard if a woman were willing to take her clothes off too.
I stood up, pulling my tank top over my head and dropped it to the sand. I walked toward the water, stripping myself of my sports bra, my jeans and my boots. Goose bumps appeared on my arms and legs and I smiled into the wind as I ran full tilt into the chilly water, splashing all the way.

It was so cold that I couldn’t breathe for a moment, so I dove beneath the surface and swam until I grew accustomed to the temperature. I popped back up and laughed, feeling a little hysterical, and when I turned toward the beach, I could see that Cal was already in the water.
“Wow,” I called out to him as he swam toward me. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“There’s a naked girl in the water,” he said by way of explanation, his breathing labored with his swimming movements.

I trod water until he reached me and then floated on my back, the water filling my ears and blocking most sound above the surface. Cal stayed near me, watching me with a goofy smile on his face. I hadn’t even noticed that my breasts had popped out of the water, gleaming white under the full moon. There was no way he could’ve missed them. I laughed again, my giggles sounding strange with my ears under water.

Finally I went back to treading, but a string of giggles escaped me and suddenly I couldn’t stop laughing. Callahan watched me for a moment, a strange smile on his face. When he’d decided that I hadn’t really gone crackers, he joined me. We laughed so hard that both of us swallowed some water, the two of us coughing and hacking, and still laughing. We had to swim back to where there was sand beneath our feet before we both drowned.

We stood in front of each other, neck deep in the lake, catching our breaths. We watched each other’s faces, not saying anything for a long moment, the air thick with anticipation. His eyes were softened by desire and he moved forward. I stepped back. I knew what we were about to do wasn’t a good idea. My need for him was taking over my common sense. Relationships were messy and we had to work together. The more we had sex, the closer we came to actually being in a relationship. Then, being me, at that moment I didn’t much care. I was just enjoying teasing the hell out of him.

Finally I moved forward in one fluid motion until our noses were almost touching. My breasts brushed up against his chest, thrilling my nipples. His breath was becoming ragged and he was trembling from holding back.

“Leah—”

I cut him off with my mouth, tasting drops of lake water on his lips. I kissed him softly, but wouldn’t offer him my tongue.

“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured against my lips.

“It’s okay. I’m in water.”

He lifted his hands to my waist, moving them over my back and down my ass. His hands were strong, rough feeling, even though they were softened by water. Callahan Parker was a tough nut. He kept his temper and ability to harm tightly harnessed. I respected him for this. I also found it sexy as hell.

He pulled back and looked into my eyes, his face a mix of emotions. “You scare the hell out of me.”

“I scare the hell out of me, too.” And that was the truth. Suddenly I felt cold. I began to shiver and my teeth started chattering.

He slid his hand up and rested it on the back of my neck, pulling my head toward his shoulder. I resisted a little at first, confused. Somehow, he knew exactly what I needed, even if I hadn’t known myself. He tried again, gently pulling, guiding my head toward his shoulder until I finally gave in. I let my cheek rest against him. Drops of water beaded his skin, chilling it. Strangely, I felt warm again.

At that moment, there was no place on earth I’d rather have been.

Any questions about the excerpt or Repo Chick Blues? Leave me a comment with any questions you may have or just what you think of the excerpt and I'll draw for a free download of Repo Chick Blues :)

Dum de de da!!!!!

Did you like my little fan fare?

So, we've established that we've all, or at least most of us have had bad dates,
and a few of us have been bad dates. *coughcaffeycough*

But no matter what happened, we lived to tell the tale...
and warn others.

So, without further ado the winner....
*drumroll*

JaynieR!
*surprisingly enough picked out of a hat by Mr. Burns!*

What do you win?
Vin!
Okay, no, wouldn't that be nice though? And it rhymed. :)

I feel a little like the guy on Price Is Right...

Come on down, JaynieR.

You've just won some Foreplay!
Lavender/Vanilla-scented bath salts
and Foreplay Suggestion Cards!
*for use in bathtubs and hot tubs*

See how much fun SExing with us can be?

Email me, JaynieR!

Monday, February 27, 2006

Bad Date #2


Okay, so we've heard some really bad dates from you guys. Have you ever had a date that you didn't know was a date?

Here's mine...

My first job in AZ was at Safeway, it's a grocery store, and I was a checker. One of my bosses, an Assistant Manager talked one day about wanting to go to the U2 concert coming up. I flipped! Not only had I never been to a real concert (Amy Grant one's at Six Flags didn't count), but I loved U2!

He said he would get me a ticket and I could pay him later. Cool, right? He suggested he pick me up, there was no reason for me to have to drive seperately. Great. I was going to see U2!

The day arrived and he showed up early, saying we were going to hang with some friends of his before the concert. Again, he was older than me and so were his friends so I had nothing in common with them and they were all couples and I still thought this was just me hitching a ride to a concert. The concert was great, except for him and his friends just sat there and watched. How do you sit at a U2 concert?

After the concert he drove me home, about an hour drive from the stadium where the concert was, and he talked about himself the entire time. (what is it with me an men who are in love with themselves?) It wasn't until he walked me to my door and tried to kiss me that I realized he thought we'd been on a date! I was quick enough to shift and he kissed my cheek, but it was a narrow miss.

I ended up going out with him one more time, mainly because I'd been so shocked and felt bad that he'd thought it was a date and I'd had no clue. But that too was a disaster, dinner with one sided conversation is just not my idea of fun. At dinner he asked for a third, I just didn't know how to say NO to the guy, he was pretty pathetic.

Now during this entire "dating" episode, my friendship with Mr. Burns was turning into a bit more, and he kept telling me to just tell the poor guy no, but I just didn't know how, besides, I had to work with him and he was a boss on top of that.

Well, the guy called to confirm the third date and I finally got the guts to say NO over the phone. I explained how Mr. Burns and I had started to become serious and were going to be exclusive to each other or some blather like that. He said he understood and thanked me for the two previous dates. (one that I hadn't known was one remember)

I was so thrilled at finally saying NO, I was literally jumping up and down I was so happy. I called Mr. Burns and told him and he just laughed at me and said it was about time. ;)

The sad thing about this story?! I can no longer listen to U2.
The good thing about the story?! Mr. Burns. :)

So, anymore bad dates? Any dates you didn't know about? Don't forget there's going to be a winner at the end of the day! And the prize is a little X-rated! :)

Paige
website. blog.

Bad Dates...

No, I'm not talking about Friday the 13th, although for me that was involved.

I'm talking about going out with a guy/girl and expecting a good time, only to wish you were going through Chinese torture instead.

I've been happily married for 11 years, but before I met "the man sleeping in my bed" (LOL. See Jane's post to get that one. Sounds sort of Goldilockish.) I had a few dates that never got off on the right foot.

Here's one...

First of all, PLEASE, don't post or email me hate mail regarding this post, it's about the date, not where I worked, it was just a job, not a cause for me.

The summer after my freshman year of college I moved back to my home town and got a job at a research lab at the University of Missouri-Columbia hospital. I had/have no medical background, my Mom knew the office manager. My job was general office stuff, as well as to take the orders from the researchers/interns/doctors for test animals, mainly mice. (see, please no hate mail)

For the first month, nothing exciting happened, it was a pretty boring job, but one day, a cute guy came in and placed an order. Now being 19 and single, I did a little "workplace" flirting. This guy continued to come in and order and each time he began to flirt more and more with me. One day he asked me out on a date. Now, despite the harmless flirting, I balked at this. He was older than me, I didn't know by how much, but I'd never really been on a "date" before either, so I was a little wary. I joked and said he didn't really want to go out on a date with me. This went on for a few weeks, he kept asking and I kept jokingly declining. After a bit I got a little tired of saying no to the guy so finally I said yes. We set a date and time.

When he came to pick me up at my house, he wasn't dressed very nice and I had. That should have been my first clue. He walked me to his car, which was a very dirty Jeep that had junk everywhere inside and on the seat I was supposed to sit on. (clue #2) Determined to make the best of it, I got in and we went on our way. Now Columbia wasn't a huge town, but there are quite a few choices of places to go eat. And since TG (The Guy - after this much time, I've forgotten his name!) had asked me out, I figured he'd had the evening scheduled out. I was wrong.

He asked me where I wanted to eat. I told him I didn't care, I thought he'd choose. We drove around for thirty minutes before I finally told him a Chinese restaurant to go to that was close and good. Once we were seated he proceeded to talk entirely about himself. Except when it came to tell me how old he was, he skirted around that issue all night long. (clue #3,4,5) I could barely make it through dinner and hoped that dinner was all he had not-planned for the evening. I was wrong.

We got back into his Jeep and he pulled out from a pile of junk in the back seat a newspaper and
handed me the movie section, asking me to read what was out in the theatre so he could pick a show to go to. (clue #6) He decided going to see Friday the 13th in 3-D was the perfect movie.(clue#7) I am not joking. If I'd been older and more experienced at dating I would have claimed a headache way before now, but alas, I was young and naive.

Note-notice the movie's tag line, how fitting is that?

The movie was horrible, not only do I hate scary/creepy movies, I can't stand the whole 3-D thing. He, of course, loved it. Finally the movie was over and he wanted to go someplace else, but I told him I had to work early the next morning (not a lie, see, wasn't smart enough yet) so thankfully he took me home.

We sat in the Jeep in my driveway for a bit, again, I think just so he could hear himself talk. But I finally got him to tell me how old he was. 39! Now to some people that might not be a big deal, but that was the same age as my stepdad! I totally freaked and seriously had to hold back my Chinese dinner from coming back up. And despite the fact that I'd probably said 10 words all night long and looked a little green around the gills, he asked for a second date! I don't even know what excuse I gave, something about having to look at my schedule with school and all, and high-tailed it out of there as fast as possible.

Thankfully, I only saw him a few more times in the office after that, each time telling him I didn't have time due to work and school to reschedule another date, before he moved on to a different department.

Whew! That was painful to write!

So spill...

I have to work a bit in the morning, but I'll be back to chat with you! At the end of the day I'll pick a winner for a sur-prize!

Paige
Website. Blog.

Sunday, February 26, 2006

Rescue Me... No, Really... Please!

So, here I sit wondering what the heck to write... I don't often get around to visiting the blog as I am a fulltime college teacher and in the throes of working on my PhD. Add to the equation home remodeling, commuting 200 miles a day for work and school, and all the other general day-to-day life-stuff that goes on, and I barely have time to check in with myself! So, Rescue Me was my first attempt at writing anything outside of the academic arena, and it was just a blast to write it (much more fun that writing for research). And, this is my first attempt at blogging, so here goes:

The significant other/boyfriend is asleep in the bed after just having flown in from Japan (he's a geeky engineer and does a lot of traveling). And, he (unbeknownst to him) was the question of the week with my students.

When I talk about myself in context to the subjects I'm teaching (I'm a sociology instructor so we often talk about sex, relationships and life in general), I never really know how to approach WHAT he is. Is he the boyfriend, the significant other, the partner, the companion? After a certain age, boyfriend seems rather inappropriate, but my students tell me partner isn't right either (as they assume this means I have a female partner). Significant other is so freakin' PC, and companion sound like he's my dog! So, even thought it has nothing to do with Rescue Me, what do I call the guy in the bed?

Any suggestions? And, any comments or questions about the book?

Saturday, February 25, 2006

What Keeps Us Coming...

... back for more? (Not that! I'm talking romance novels here.)

I’ve been reading romances for a very long time now. Started out with the sweet, traditional Harlequin/Silhouette books (Betty Neels, Diana Palmer) where the hero was older, experienced and, especially with Diana Palmer’s books, sometimes downright mean to the heroine, who was usually young and naïve and inexperienced. (I still haven’t figured out how those heroines ended up falling in love with those heroes when they were such jerks, but they did.) I moved on to Linda Howard, Iris Johannson, Dara Joy, Catherine Coulter, JD Robb, and many others.

Now I’m reading (and writing) erotic romance—stories where the love scenes are hot and explicit. Did I mention hot? I read lots of paranormal and most of what I write ends up with a paranormal element to it, even if I haven’t exactly planned it. (But, then I tend to be a pantser, and not a plotter, so sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s gonna happen!) I’m reading Angela Knight, Mary Janice Davidson, Lora Leigh, Michelle Pillow and Mandy Roth, to name a few. I’m starting to wade through (and I mean that in the nicest way!) the authors here at LSB. What I’ve read so far (from Rae Morgan, Paige Burns, Dakota Cassidy and, of course, my buddy Jenna Howard—and I still have more authors to go) will keep me coming back for more.

Whether it’s sweet and traditional, or spicy and not-so-traditional, romance is about fantasy. A way to escape from the every day drudge that our lives can turn into. According to HealthPlace.com, the top female sexual fantasy is the “rape fantasy”. Or as romance writers call it, the forced seduction.

The article does state "The reason fantasies are so cherished is because the majority of them will never be realized." This means that while women might fantasize a forced seduction, they don’t WANT a forced seduction. I might fantasize that a tall, dark and handsome vampire will sweep me off my feet to be his eternal love, but if it ever really happened I’d probably pee my pants. Or do something else in my pants. (It’s like Bill Cosby says. If you’re in an accident, it doesn’t matter if you have on clean underwear, ’cause there’s gonna be an accident.)

This idea of a fantasy, the “never be realized”… is this why paranormal stories sell so well? Because while supernatural powers can seem sexy, I'd say that most of us don't really want to meet up with a sexy, immortal bloodsucker. We might fantasize about a wild man who will call us HIS and want to 'mate for life', but what would you really do if some guy got all snarly and growly when another man looked at you? (My heroines might be kickass. I am not. Like I said, there’s gonna be an accident.)

It’s pretty much the same with the old historical romances with pirates and outlaw cowboys. And maybe why so many of the newer erotic stories feature dominant/submissive role-playing. A strong, handsome man will take control and we don’t have to worry about anything anymore. No more bills, no more work, no more anything.

What is it about romances that brings readers back for more? For me, it's two-fold. When I read a romance, I fully expect the happily ever after or at least the promise of one. But it's also the fantasy aspect of it all. The whole escape into someone else’s life or world while I read.

What about you? Why do you read romances?

(And because I just can't seem to help myself, here's some eye candy. How-deeee! I'll take that six-shooter. Either one of 'em!! LOL)


Zodiac: Pisces available now!


Sherrill Quinn

Romance With An Edge Website | Blog
Indulge Authors - Website | Blog

Friday, February 24, 2006

And as the sun fades slowly in the west . .


In the spirit of my new book, I offer a recipe.

From the official United States Senate website, here is the recipe for Senate Bean Soup, served in the Senate cafeteria every day since 1903:

The Famous Senate Restaurant Bean Soup Recipe

2 pounds dried navy beans
four quarts hot water
1 1/2 pounds smoked ham hocks
1 onion, chopped
2 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper to taste

Wash the navy beans and run hot water through them until they are slightly whitened. Place beans into pot with hot water. Add ham hocks and simmer approximately three hours in a covered pot, stirring occasionally. Remove ham hocks and set aside to cool. Dice meat and return to soup. Lightly brown the onion in butter. Add to soup. Before serving, bring to a boil and season with salt and pepper. Serves 8.

Now, for those of you who don’t have three hours to stand over a covered pot, I adapted it for my crockpot. Takes a little more time up front, but you could do the prep work anytime.

Crockpot Senate Bean Soup

2 pounds dried navy beans
2 quarts hot water
1 ½ pounds smoked ham hocks
1 onion, chopped
2 tablespoons butter
Salt and pepper to taste

Rinse the navy beans and put them in a large pot. Cover deep with water and bring to a boil. Turn back the heat and simmer for half an hour. Drain and put in 6 quart crock pot. Add water and ham, set on high for approximately six hours. During the last hour, remove ham hocks and cool. Dice meat and return to soup. Lightly brown onion in butter. Add to soup. Salt and pepper to taste.

I wasn’t sure this recipe was going to work. When I went to work after two hours, it was still just water and beans. But when I got home, it looked like soup and smelled wonderful. Even my eleven year old, who is not a soup eater, gave this thirteen thumbs up!

So, that’s it for my blog day. Stick around tomorrow, when your host will be the charming Sherrill Quinn, and then come back on March 7th when I’ll get to talk in more details about The Halls of Power, share excerpts, and give you a chance to win a very Washingtonian goodie!

The Eye of the Beholder

I want to introduce you all to someone. This is Ruby.


Isn’t she great? All round and natural and happy with who she is.

I was really sad that she disappeared so quickly. She was part of a Body Shop self-esteem campaign back in the 90s, saying just what we needed to hear in an era of extreme body shape and diet obsession. Be healthy, be who you are, and love yourself. But Mattel stepped in with a cease and desist order, saying Ruby was insulting to the real Barbie. And parents were feeling their children had been traumatized looking at Ruby’s nude body. Never mind all the similarly nude models of a smaller size on display right next to her. Ruby disappeared almost as quickly as she appeared. And I think the world is a sadder place for it.

In case you can’t tell, I’m a big woman. I’m not ashamed of it. I’m 5’2” and 250 pounds. The only time I get testy about it is when I have to go clothes shopping. Which, fortunately, I’ve always hated to do. Why spend money on clothes when I could be buying books or electronics?

But I’ve always had an odd sense of beauty. For example, Sean Connery as James Bond? Meh. Creepy. Sean Connery in The Untouchables? GUH!! I’ve got no interest in Colin Farrell or Russell Crowe. Naveen Andrews, now . . . But one of the men I find most sexy is Anthony Head. And it’s not just because of his appearance (come on, the man has chicken legs!) He has a wonderfully expressive face that you can just get lost in, but I think more significantly he’s so open and fearless. I’ve seen him do dark and ominous, I’ve seen the sexy fuddy duddy, and I’ve seen him at fifty-one years old run around in a black leather thong without batting an eye. That kind of bravery is incredibly sexy to me.

It’s the same with the women. I like curvy women, I like strong women. Katharine Hepburn and Rita Hayworth are my favorites from film, and now I adore Lucy Lawless. And again it’s the fearless factor. Yes, she’s built like a brick outhouse. But she can do drama, comedy, angst and everything in between with grace and style and a joy that just comes through in her work.

Just like Ruby.

So spill. Who do you find sexy, even though you know no one else does? What is it about them that most attracts you?

New Mare in the Stable

So, here I am for my first day of blogging for Liquid Silver. For those of you who don't know me (which is pretty much everyone!), I'm Philippa Grey-Gerou, a new writer with Liquid Silver. You can just call me Grey. I'll be doing a couple of different things today, including a rant and a recipe, but I've tweaked my plan a little bit as I just found out that my first book with LSB, The Halls of Power, is coming out next week, so I'm going to be doing this *again* come March 7th! So you'll have to wait until then for the excerpts and goodies. It'll be worth the wait, I promise!

I’m really pretty excited about joining the blog team here. Hard to believe that it wasn’t that long ago I was listening to an article on NPR about the rise of these new “weblogs” and thinking how self-important these people must be to think anyone would care enough about them to read their private journal online. Little did I realize that the following year I’d be getting my own. And two years after that I’d pay good money to make it a permanent one.

Crow doesn’t taste too bad, if you use enough salt.

I really like blogging. Each one is different. I have two of my own, my private one and then my author one, plus playing here at Sex and a couple of other places. I love being able to mention that my dishwasher broke down and have two people who I have never met come together to get me a used one in good condition that I never would have found otherwise. I love getting to share experiences, like TV shows or movies or games. I like having a place to occasionally rant. Cuz I can get a rant on like nobody’s business. I like being able to tell everyone who cares to look how much certain people mean to me. I like being able to ask a question and get a whole bunch of answers in no time for stuff that I couldn’t find on the internet. ::kicks Google:: And like I said, it’s different for everyone. For some people, it’s a substitute for their pen and paper journal where they put their innermost thoughts. For some it’s a forum to discuss politics or religion or fandom or whatever rocks their socks. For some it’s a game. And it’s all good.

So, how about you? If you’re here, you obviously aren’t a newbie to the blogging community. What’s your favorite thing to do or see in someone’s journal? What drives you the most crazy? What kind of things just make you go “Huh?”

Thursday, February 23, 2006

And the booty goes to...

Robin Snodgrass!!!!!!!!!

Wooooohooo! You rock!

E-mail me at Dakota@dakotacassidy.com to collect your prize, sweetie!

And yeah, you guys were mostly right--Excerpt #2 was MINE. The lovely Michelle Hoppe provided me with the first one. Oddly, Robin was the first to notice I'd forgotten to strip all of the names.

She caught the name August and indeed, August is the name of the hero in Whose Bride Is She Anyway!

Thank you, all for coming to play today! I had a wonderful time and I so appreciate the kind words about my writing.

I'll see y'all next month for more secrets of the LSB authors!!

hugs all round,
Dakota :)

Have We Met?


This is your intrepid, dirt seeking, fact finding reporter, Dakota Cassidy.

Yep, I'm back and I AM NOT promoting ANYTHING. You heard me, there is absolutely NO PROMO involved in this blog.

Not a lick.

I've decided that the authors of LSB made me break a nail last time (thus an expensive manicure was involved), I went on a fact finding mission and it's time to take a much needed break from their cruelties. I've suffered horribly, pulling teeth, getting dirty in the trenches of their dark secrets and this month, I was PMS-ing, so I skipped it in favor of a massage and a facial. LOLLOL

Alrighty, so I was reading a friend's blog the other day and she said that she could identify an author by their sex scenes in a book. She also said that she wondered if the frequency of one act or the other might be a part of the author's true sex life...

I know.

Oy!

It freaked me out. It made me want to go back and reread all of my sex scenes to see if I'd written an excess of the oral variety and now looked like a meat whistle, blowing slut to the literary world at large. HAHAHAHAHAHA

At first, my face turned red. It like burned, cuz I kept thinking, am I predictable? Do my like 25 fans wonder if I participate in those sorts of lewd and lascivious acts on a daily (yeah, I wish) basis? Do they wonder if I do the nasty in a kitchen, on a boat, in a moat (no, no goat. LOL)? Here or there, or practically anywhere? Do I write the same thing over and over? Use the same words?

LOLLOL. It made me stop and think about what I was writing and how it's written. If I have typical words I chose to use when depicting the act of hanky panky.

There are many acts I've depicted too. Do readers think I've done it doggy style, on a kitchen table, upside down with my hands cuffed to the table legs while I sing Stairway to Heaven in round?

Ahem, I assure you, I have not. Well, there once was a chorus of Stairway to Heaven, but it had nothing to do with a kitchen table. LOLLOL

Do they assume because my heroines on occasion can be very bold sexually, that I am too?

HAH! As if. I'm the biggest scaredy cat ever. I mean ever. Look at me. Do I look like the kind of woman who would just walk up to a man and say, "Hey, stud, wanna?"

Nooooooooo.
No, I say, but my heroines might.
Do.
Have done.
Kinda have done...

Do they wonder if I like , back door sex and menages?

Oh, wait, I haven't written those. Scratch that.

Do they wonder if I have a penchant for sex in the shower, on the beach, in a vacant house that's up for sale?

Looking back at al the books I've written, I began to think I could look like a real hot tamale (insert 'ho here), if anyone believed I actually indulged in what I write. Like a vixen, which I am soooooo not. Trust me. I don't have a vixen bone in my body.

Although, I'm not ruling out doing werewolves or vampires just yet. LOLLOL. I'm also not saying I might not like being handcuffed to a table. I just don't want it to be a table I had to put dinner on, ya know? Cuz I hate to cook.

So tell me, do you immediately know who wrote a sex scene if it's given to you anonymously, like in an excerpt? Do certain authors give you clues by particular words they use or phrases they tend to lean toward?

Here's the deal today. All ya gotta do is read the two excerpts posted and in the comments, just post which excerpt you think is mine by the number listed beside each excerpt. That's IT. You're automatically entered to win some GOOD stuff in a random drawing. Whether you're right or wrong, I'll probably put ya in the drawing anyway :)

Would I lie to you? LOL. Honest Injun. That's all ya gotta do :)

Until next time, when I've recovered from the hell that is the LSB author's dirty laundry( oh, how I suffer for you. LOL) and I can dig up some more dirt, be well, stay safe and enter that contest! Winner will be announced tonight at 9:00 pm eastern standard time.

Dakota :)

Excerpt #1

Removing the robe she walked naked into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. Her body ached for his touch. Turning on the water, she waited for the warmth to wash away the cloud from her mind. Her hands moved over her skin in soft, sensual strokes, teasing her nipples taut, the burning hunger in her pussy demanded release. She reached for the life-size dong on the shelf in the shower, closing her eyes she stood directly under the cascading water. Moving the dildo between her legs, she massaged it back and forth over her clit.

Excerpt #2

Feverishly, he suckled her, pulling her fingers toward her tight entrance. It seemed natural to let two fingers slip inside her warmth and this time, she did scream as he lapped at her and she moved within herself. Her nipples beaded tightly, as she slid in and out of her pussy and he licked every exposed surface. Her pussy clenched her fingers, riding them as his mouth strayed to her entrance. He joined her fingers, stabbing his tongue inside her, fingering her clit. Soft hair brushed her arms. His head moved to a rhythm all its own as he wedged his tongue into her.

Strong hands clutched at her ass, gripping the flesh tightly, tugging her to fit his mouth. Moving back to her clit, he buried his lips in her, licking, sucking and the tight tension, building to an almost painful need for release, snapped. Snaking outward, lashing at her pussy.

She rocked against him as she drew her fingers in and out, watching her body tense in the mirror. Her mouth was open, her body arched toward August’s head, her arm hidden between her legs. Using her other hand, she tugged a nipple, seeing her own surprised look as she prepared to explode.

Heat engulfed her, tearing at her flesh as she came, with him tonguing her clit and her fingers plunging deeply within her. There was no fighting the scream that ripped from her lips, as she shuddered, jamming her hips down on the hard surface.

Thanks all

Thanks all who stopped by yesterday. Perhaps next time I'll present the interview I had with a Dom. No, wait, actually next time, I'll be promoting my March release Seasons of Love. Yippee!

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Interview with a submissive


The bdsm lifestyle is something that intrigues many of us. Sometimes we may write hot and heavy bdsm-themed stories without truly understanding what the lifestyle entails. We're curious observers, not actual participants. I recently gathered some information on what it is to actually live the life--not just play in the bedroom. The following is a Q&A session with a practicing submissive, explaining what the BDSM life means to her.

If a couple is in a bdsm relationship, does it switch on and off? Do you have your 'day' persona and your 'night' persona or is it a 24/7 lifestyle?
That's a pretty good question. The Dom you spoke with is right in that it depends on the couple. For Sir's and my specific relationship, it's 24/7 in that my rules are in effect whether or not W/we're together, and each of U/us thinks of the other, generally, in the role W/we've chosen. It it definitely not just in the bedroom. Still, if i don't feel good, He goes easy on me, pets me, takes care of me. If i have my period, or a cold, or i'm very sore and weepy and not doing well, He'll try to make me laugh, and get me food and hold me.

How does the couple carry on a regular life and a role-playing life at the same time? Or is it playing?
Well, in my deepest heart of hearts i'm a submissive. It is not playing, in that sense of the word... it's just a part of me. The same way i am a writer, even if i'm not writing, though that's probably not the best example. *blushes* It's just always there, a part of my brain.
Since i can only see Him once a week, a lot of it is mental, being told what to do over the phone, or even just talking. Generally, i call Him before work or at lunch, when i wake up. W/we talk a LOT. Every day, if W/we can help it. Actually, a lot of it is mental when W/we're together. i tend to slip into sub-space the minute i get into the car when He picks me up.

Still, it depends on the person. Some people just play in clubs, or in a dungeon, or once a week, and then leave it after that. Some people don't. Finally becoming chibi-hentai, submissive, and realizing it, has made me a stronger person in other situations, rather than letting people walk all over me and not realizing why i'm letting them.

Do you have dialogue about how you want things done or do you defer to your Dom without question on everything? I understand that he would be the ultimate decision-maker, but how much room for discussion do you have?
Again, different couples have different ways of dealing with this situation and how dialogues come up. On some decisions, after discussing something, i might defer to His judgment, feeling that He has more experience, or He's just right. On others, He lets me have my way because i might know more about a situation.
i live at home, and take care of my parents, so i don't say anything on the running of the household.
There's always room for discussion. One of the most important parts of D/s is communication... honest communication.

What happens when you’re in an argument and you’re confident you’re right about something and really want to be heard?
Argument... that implies anger, temper or ire, to me. i don't like having discussions or debates when i'm angry, because then feelings can be hurt, or something can be said that isn't meant. If either of U/us does get angry about something, W/we wait to talk about it, until W/we're calm and level-headed. Submission doesn't mean i checked my brain and opinions at the door, LOL. And i try to be respectful when i'm voicing my opinions.

And another wonderful way to deal when both of U/us are right: Compromise. i'll do something, and employ some of His suggestions, but He needs to please accept if it doesn't work, or i don't like it or i need time to get it done or something. As long as i give it my all.

For me it’s pretty easy to understand the Dom’s role. Who wouldn’t want to be in charge and control things, and let’s face it, it’s kind of a basic part of a man’s nature.
Maybe, though not all men are Doms. Some make fantastic submissives, and some women make superb Dommes. But even so, it's not just in charge and in control. It's responsibilities too. To be honest. To know the sub(s) limits, to know Their own limits, to be aware. A good Dom, that is. And to realize that They won't get everything right off the bat, if They're either new, or with a new sub. LOL, i adore fictional BDSM books, but the whole, "get everything right on a telepathic level" thing is so ridiculous. No one gets it all right that way. It takes mistakes and learned limits and learning about the other person's body AND mind that makes it fantastic.

Carrying that desire from sex life into the rest of life is what’s intriguing to me.
i take care of disabled parents and my responsibilities are endless. To be able, with one special person who i know i can trust implicitly, to give up all the control, the worrying about what to do if this goes wrong or this person needs something, and just be. i won't do anything wrong, because i'm given explicit instructions, and can ask the person in charge what else to do if i don't know. How can i ask what to do next in my normal, everyday life, when i'm the one in charge?
i cry when i'm with Him. He overwhelms me with pleasure and some pain(though i must say i'm not much of a painslut and He knows that). But I can't cry at home. i have to be the strong one. With Him... with Sir, i can be weak and needy and let go of all of it. He says He is honored when i let go in front of Him and just cry. i have a lot of crying to do.
i don't like crying and letting it out. It hurts and it's scary, and i want to run and hide. Sir holds me, as tight as i need, but He doesn't let me hide from Him. That's one thing i am not allowed to do, cover my eyes to hide. Either with my hands or my hair(which is thigh length now) or turning away.
One night, He saw me after sobbing hysterically, and said that i looked beautiful. *chuckles* my face was wet with tears and snot, and splotchy here and there, and He sits there telling me i'm beautiful.
i cry when i'm overwhelmed or when i'm experiencing sub-drop. sub-drop is comparable to how a person can really fly on adrenaline then after, when it's not needed, the crash comes. sub-drop tends to start emotionally, then move on to mentally and physically. Some subs have different ways of dealing with it. Eating, drinking, talking, crying. Eating helps me to ground myself, and sometimes brings it on quicker.
He nurtures me. He treats me like the special woman i am. He treats all of my emotions, rational or not(and i say if they aren't rational, LOL), with support and validation. He punishes me when i need it. He lets me talk things out. He does so much for me, and i'm thankful for it.

So in your specific relationship, what are the rules?
Rules:
i can't hide.

i am not allowed to get my own doors. He opens them for me. (*chuckles* It took me awhile to get the hang of that one)

No orgasm without permission. If i need/want to, and He isn't there, i must call Him, no matter the time, and ask... or beg... or plead, LOL.

When with Him, i wear a skirt, and unless i have a butt-plug in, my period, or permission, no underwear.

Also when with Him in the car(or any other place He deems it appropriate), my bare ass is on the seat, and my legs are spread for Him.

At home(His, but it feels like home to me too now), when i get in, unless otherwise directed, i get undressed, and assume my position(on my knees, with them spread, my ankles crossed behind me, back straight, eyes forward, my hands clasped behind me).

No biting my nails. Each nail bitten is one spank.

No writing "lol" the wrong way(the way i used to was with capital L's on both sides, and a lowercase O). The wooden paddle for every time.

i must always inform Him of disobedience. As soon as possible after it happens.

i must always wear my cuff(it's black, leather, with a kitty face on it and pat prints... Bought at Hot Topic, LOL, but it's comfy and nice), unless i take it off to keep it from getting wet or lotiony, or for medical reasons, like a nurse needs to take my pulse or something.

i must keep a daily submissive journal. And have a very good reason if i miss a day. i must also write down any disobedience and the punishment, if i know the latter. Or put punishment pending, if i don't. Additions to this rule: i must put another "i am" sentence at the end of every day.

i was depressed one day, and Sir had me write a list of 25 or more things that "i am". Good things. It must be in that format. "i am pretty." or "i am smart", etc. i'm on 39 today, LOL.

What would an average day be like for you?
An average day? Well, since W/we get together once a week, depending on the time, it generally includes food. Sometimes a movie, sometimes shopping at a bookstore or the mall. Sometimes heading for His place and playing. It includes chibi getting teased, stroked, made to cum, and at the end of it all, hopefully getting her treat, which would be Sir's cum. Giving Sir a blowjob really grounds me. It's familiar territory, and i know i'm pleasing Him, and it's also my favorite activity.
There will be laughs, there will definitely be tears and there will be intimacy and friendship.

What are your expectations of the relationship and what are your partner’s?
i expect to have rules, to be listened to, to be punished when i need it, to have my limits pushed, to be honest and to be given honesty, to have my desires met, in part or in whole. i must say that Sir is really good at meeting them in whole. *grins*
i expect to be His friend. He is my best friend, as well as my Dominant. He knows He can talk to me, and i won't judge Him. He doesn't have to feel bad if He has to do something, because i'll be here when He's done. But i also know that if i need Him, i can call Him. No matter what He's doing, who He's with, i can call. i'm a former cutter. i sometimes need to cry. And if He tells me to let go, i can cry at home. He is my primary safe call for cutting.
The relationship is not romantic, boyfriend/girlfriend. Sir and i are friends, lovers, D/s partners. And i'm content with that.

Let me add that the creed in this Lifestyle is: Safe, Sane and Consensual. Trust is necessary, but it must be earned. And that last word of the creed means no flashy BDSM demos in front of people who aren't consenting. Mainly, that means anywhere public, save play parties, and even then... there are rules! So flashing the guy in the truck next to you in the middle of traffic, in reality, is out. But add a blindfold, have this sinful, deep voice telling you to touch yourself, and that all these people are looking... it has relatively the same effect. *grins* The general public cannot consent, so being led around on a leash in a mall is forcing the lifestyle on someone else. There are other ways to be circumspect but still feel the wonderful D/s vibe with a partner in a public setting.

I hope this interview is of interest to our blog readers. I gathered this and several other interviews with the idea of perhaps writing a more realistic bdsm romance novel. Don't know if I'll ever do it or not, but thought you might be interested in what I found out.

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

And the winners are...

I think I'm a bit late with pulling the winners, but I wanted to give people a chance. And I just love saying "And the winners are...!"

This was fun today. I hope everyone had a good time. My thanks to Rae for putting all the work together on the signs!

The winners of our Zodiac contest are:

Cynthya and Amy S. They each get a free download of Zodiac: Pisces. Congratulations!!

Email me at sherrill@sherrillquinn.com with your email address and the format in which you'd like to receive the download (PDF, html, Microsoft LIT version, Mobirocket-PRC, or Rocket-RB).

Thanks to everyone who played along today.

Sherrill Quinn
Romance With An Edge
Website | Blog

Simon’s Wicked Web by Ava McKnight


“Where do your story ideas come from?”

I get asked this all the time. While I derive inspiration from just about everything under the sun—and I say that with a bit of frustration because sometimes I can’t turn off the flow of ideas and, well, there just isn’t enough time in the day to write all these stories!—the most creatively inspiring device for me is music. Song titles, lyrics, instrumental tunes, musicians (yum!)… all of these things spark story ideas for me, as well as help to “lead” me through a story.

I got the idea for Simon’s Wicked Web from Madonna’s Erotic CD. Not that there’s anything on the CD that correlates with the story; rather, it was the overall evocative, wicked vibe of the CD that got me thinking about a story for Simon, my erotically intriguing hero. Simon is a true bad boy. (Better yet, he’s a billionaire bad boy.) For this book, I wanted to create sexually uninhibited characters with adventurous, devil-may-care spirits, a penchant for decadence and the desire to be truly wicked. Who better to inspire all of this than Madonna?

I used to think I would never play favorites with my heroes and heroines, but I have to admit that Simon and Kate hold a very special place in my heart. And I think Simon’s best friend, Stephan, deserves an erotic romance of his own… (I’ll get to work on this as soon as I find a CD that suits him.) I hope you become ensnarled in the wicked web Simon weaves, and fall in love with him the way I did.

Thanks for stopping by! Visit me at www.calistafox.com for chances to win a copy of Simon’s Wicked Web and other goodies, beginning March 1. Cheers!

Excerpt from Simon’s Wicked Web

From the moment they meet, he weaves an inescapable web of intrigue and seduction...

Kate Preston selects billionaire bad boy Simon Jones as the subject of her final
book in a bestselling series of biographies on overindulgent, decadent tycoons. Famous
for his wild sexual escapades, Simon--true to form--pursues her from the onset. But
studious Kate knows the wildly charismatic Simon is out of her league.

Having been raised by two notorious Hollywood legends, Kate has always sought normalcy
in her life. As Simon challenges her to take a walk on the wild side with him, Kate is pulled
deeper and deeper into his wicked web. Before the biography is finished, Kate will discover
a decadent side of herself she never knew existed... But at what cost to her heart?

************
“Well, there he is,” Samantha announced in her usual clipped, to-the-point tone as she and Kate entered the red neon-lit lounge.

The Whiskey Sky was a three-way collision of Feng Shui, art deco and Zen-inspired décor. The rooftop lounge boasted stellar panoramic views of Lake Michigan, Navy Pier and the Chicago skyline. Hip and trendy and quite apropos for this particular meeting, Kate had to admit.

Her eyes scanned the room and landed instantly on the handsome devil she sought. Despite the throng of people in the lounge, he was impossible to miss. Dressed all in black, pants, shirt and boots, Simon Jones was an edgy, brooding type who commanded attention. He had a deep bronze tan, dark, unruly hair and silvery-blue, hypnotic eyes, which held a hint of mischief and a spark of wickedness that both intrigued and excited Kate.

“It appears he’s engaged in a business-related conversation,” Samantha continued in jest. “Plotting some new restaurant coup, I’m sure.”

Kate laughed. “Yeah, I’ll bet. And the voluptuous blonde on his lap, with her best assets on display, is probably his accountant.”

“Mm, yes,” Samantha mused. “She looks like a bean counter, doesn’t she?”

Kate narrowed her eyes at the scantily clad, potential Playboy Playmate currently draped over Simon Jones. She did a double take.

“Bean counter, my ass.” Kate grinned. “That’s Britney Taylor. Better known as Miss February. And one of Heff’s favorite bunnies, I might add.”

“Ooh, how scandalous. Already the legend is living up to his reputation.”

“It would seem so,” Kate commented in an excited tone.

Instinct told her Simon Jones would be a fascinating subject for her last book. Rumor had it, he was pompous and arrogant, yet wildly charismatic when he wanted to be. Kate had also heard Simon Jones was so sexually alluring, women were prone to dropping to their knees and giving him head with nothing more than a wink and a nod for encouragement.

Lucky for Kate, she had more restraint than those other women. Her experience with writing the biographies of eccentric egomaniacs had taught her to avoid the many landmines associated with millionaire playboys. Or billionaire ones, as the case was with Simon Jones.

Although she was infinitely curious about what drove these types of men and sparked their insatiable ambition and overindulgent tendencies (what made them so hell-bent on possessing everything?), she knew better than to get tangled in their wicked webs.

Kate Preston didn’t roll over and spread her legs for just anyone.

Thirty-four-year-old Simon Jones was the epitome of overindulgence, which was one of the reasons why Kate had chosen him for her final biography. He was also a permanent tabloid fixture and devilishly handsome, which would help to boost the book’s ratings, no doubt.

Much to her surprise, though, Simon did have a few redeeming qualities, which Kate had unearthed during the preliminary research she’d conducted on him. Two selfless acts, in particular, intrigued her. Simon, she’d learned from his dying governess, had risked his life to save his best friend, Stefan Van Halderon, from drowning when they were children. Simon had not known how to swim at the age of seven, yet he hadn’t hesitated a second to dive into freezing cold water to rescue Stefan, who had fallen through a thin patch of ice on a semi-frozen lake.

Later, in his mid-twenties, Simon took a troubled, underprivileged young man under his wing and turned him into his protégé, providing the juvenile delinquent every opportunity to turn his life around. Julian Morrison was now on his way to becoming one of the hottest chefs in Manhattan.

Through her research efforts, Kate had discovered Simon wasn’t fond of flaunting his valiant traits; he seemed to prefer perpetuating the wild and wicked image he’d earned from a very early age. However, Kate considered his heroic acts significant enough to confirm there was much more to Simon Jones than met the eye.

Kate had convinced herself she’d selected Simon for all the right reasons, rather than the ones that intrigued her the most: Simon’s dark, edgy looks and the raw intensity he exuded.

She had professional standards to maintain, after all.

Samantha nudged her now, drawing Kate’s attention. Samantha handed over one of the cocktails she’d ordered. Kate took a sip of her drink then grimaced inwardly. Bombay Sapphire martini.

“I hate martinis,” Kate groaned.

“This is Simon’s drink of choice. We’re playing the ‘When in Rome’ game, Kate. You should be used to this by now.”

Kate sighed. She loathed the business aspect of her projects. She just wanted to get to the good stuff and write the book.

Kate and Samantha’s purpose this evening was to finalize the deal Samantha had started with Simon. He seemed inclined to let Kate write his biography. Ego was a powerful motivator, after all. Kate knew men like Simon Jones weren’t likely to pass up a golden opportunity to have their lives immortalized in a best-selling book. She and Samantha just needed to seal the deal with Simon, and he had stipulated he wouldn’t do that without first meeting Kate in person.

Hence, tonight’s visit to the Whiskey Sky.

“So, how long do you think this meeting with Mr. Wicked will last?”


Posted for Ava by Tina :)

Find Your Sun Sign's Perfect Match

Now, that you’ve found out what your sun sign is all about. Let’s look to see which of the signs are supposed to be most compatible with yours. I’ll separate these into sexual compatibility and lasting relationship potential. Be aware, these may not track equally since there are many nuances in compatibility, lots of give and take. The pairings as shown here are percentage-wise, more or less sure things from an astrological compatibility viewpoint. :) Have fun with them!

Aries: Sexually compatible with Taurus, Gemini, Leo, Libra, Scorpio, Pisces.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Gemini, Leo, Sagittarius, Pisces.

Taurus: Sexually compatible with Aries, Gemini, Cancer, Virgo, Libra, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Pisces.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Cancer, Virgo, Capricorn, Pisces.

Gemini: Sexually compatible with Aries, Leo, Libra, Scorpio, Aquarius.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Aries, Leo, Libra, Aquarius.

Cancer: Sexually compatible with Taurus, Leo, Virgo, Scorpio, Capricorn, Pisces.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Pisces.

Leo: Sexually compatible with Aries, Gemini, Sagittarius.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Aries, Gemini, Libra.

Virgo: Sexually compatible with Taurus, Cancer, Libra, Scorpio, Capricorn, Pisces.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Taurus, Cancer, Virgo, Scorpio, Capricorn.

Libra: Sexually compatible with Aries, Gemini, Leo, Virgo, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Aquarius.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Gemini, Leo, Sagittarius, Aquarius.

Scorpio: Sexually compatible with Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Virgo, Capricorn, Pisces.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Cancer, Virgo, Capricorn, Pisces.

Sagittarius: Sexually compatible with Aries, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Libra, Sagittarius, Aquarius, Pisces.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Aries, Leo, Libra, Aquarius.

Capricorn: Sexually compatible with Aries, Taurus, Cancer, Virgo, Scorpio, Pisces.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Taurus, Virgo, Scorpio, Pisces.

Aquarius: Sexually compatible with Gemini, Leo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Aquarius.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Gemini, Sagittarius.

Pisces: Sexually compatible with Aries, Taurus, Cancer, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn.
Lasting relationship potential is high with Aries, Taurus, Cancer, Scorpio, Capricorn.

Since I am a Pisces, the above pairings say I should avoid Aquarians. In fact, while Aquarians and Pisces might appear to have a lot in common sexually, neither sign likes to initiate the act. The word on the street is these two signs might end up having more fun talking and sharing a cup of cappuccino than having sex.

As for long-lasting relationships, forget about it. Aquarians like to travel while Pisces wants to stay home. Aquarians want to meet lots of new people, while Pisces likes to stick with close friends. These two signs can be awesome friends and allies, but marriage is not in the stars.

Well, I’m here to tell you I’ve been happily involved with an Aquarian male (and a very typical one at that) for thirty-six years; we’ll celebrate our thirty-fourth wedding anniversary next Fall. Got to think my moon sign of Taurus has something to do with that. That plus the fact that my hubby and I were born a week apart in the same year at about the same time of the day in the same hospital. LOL We met eighteen years after our birth at college in a German Level 3 class (the only two Freshman in the class) and Engineering Calculus. We also came from an almost duplicate background - - middle class, both parents worked, attended public school and so on.

Leads one to believe that nurture does skew the old nature argument.

On a karmic level, I say we were meant to be together from birth. He is my soul mate, and I truly believe that our souls crossed and met one another as he went home from the hospital and I was coming in to be born.

Somewhat out there? I think not. Both of us had full-ride scholarships to other colleges. For reasons too lengthy to go into here, we didn’t go and instead attended Purdue. The other two colleges? Mine was Harvard; his was MIT. Both in Cambridge. I’d say the chances of us meeting in Harvard Square in 1970, two Freshman from Ft. Wayne, Indiana, were fairly high, especially since we both were Chemistry majors.

Yes, I truly believe, we were meant to be together. He is my best friend in the universe. And the sex thing? Well, we worked that out. Sex after all is also in the brain, and talking can lead to action. LOL

Now, share with us. Does your hubby, lover, significant other, or intimate friend fit in with the above astrological compatibilities?

Sherrill and I will pick one of the responses to this blog thread to win a free download of our book Pisces.

Excerpt from "Redemption", in Zodiac: Pisces, by Sherrill Quinn

Abby started to leave, but turned back as a thought occurred to her. “You seem so familiar. Have we met?” Familiar as if her very soul recognized him. The throbbing in her pussy seemed to agree. Not, she thought with sadness, that anything would ever happen.

A full-blown smile crossed his face, turning it from interestingly craggy to heart-stoppingly beautiful. Her nipples tightened in interest and her heart beat a hard rhythm against her ribs.

“No, ma’am,” he said, and the smile still tugging at his lips caused dimples to groove his chiseled cheeks. “We’ve never met before.”

“Oh. Well, now we have.” She grimaced at how inane she sounded.

“Would you like to have a cup of coffee?” he asked. A look flitted across his face, suggesting that he instantly regretted the impetuous words.

“Oh, no, I can’t.” Her instinctive reaction was prompted by his obvious wish to retract the invitation, and she fought to maintain her composure. She wasn’t a charity case for some stranger to pity. Her body drooped, while inbred politeness prompted her to murmur, “But thank you.”

She turned and walked away from him, more aware of her scarred and crippled legs than ever before. The physical therapist kept assuring her that she would eventually walk without a limp, but she was impatient. She’d been in therapy for three and a half months already. How eventual was eventually?

She was aware of his gaze following her as she crossed the street to walk the rest of the block to her apartment. When she stepped up on the curb she couldn’t help but look over her shoulder. Disappointed to see he was gone, she heaved a sigh. “Oh, well, Abs. You aren’t his type, anyway.”

Damon frowned when he heard her muttered comment. He walked a few paces behind her in his Protector form, watching her pert fanny swing with her uneven gait. If anything, the limp made her even sexier. It made him want to strip those pants from her and slide into her sweet, wet pussy with a cock that now was rock-solid.

His frown deepened. Even in corporeal form, this had never happened on assignment. He hadn’t thought it was possible for it to happen when he was in spirit form, yet here he was with an erection throbbing along his thigh like a third leg.

He didn’t know what it was about her, but his body reacted with wild need in her presence. Maybe it was that she was exactly his type: elegant, independent and determined, with a gut-wrenching beauty that threatened to double him over with need.

Incredible that she couldn’t see how sexy she was. But he knew every man she came into contact with saw it. And he tensed with jealousy.

She was his.

He curled his fingers into his palms. What the hel... heck was he thinking? He was a specter, sent to protect this woman and thereby assure himself a place in Heaven. He had no business lusting after her. That emotion definitely wouldn’t get him past the pearly gates. “Get hold of yourself, man,” he muttered, in his distraction forgetting to mask his words.

When her head turned sharply, he realized he’d spoken aloud. She looked around, her eyes searching. After a slight hesitation, she entered the building.

Following her into her apartment, Damon watched. Stooping slowly and painfully to pick up an orange tabby that nattered around her feet, she rubbed her face into the soft fur, her eyes closed as she straightened.

He shook his head. Damned if they both didn’t have the same expression on their faces, woman and feline. Closed-eyed contentment. How long had it been since he’d felt that?

Dammit, dammit, dammit! He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Perhaps he’d better ask for re-assignment before his emotions got him into trouble. But he didn’t think he could leave Abby to another Protector. After the first one’s abysmal failure, he didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.

“You know, Jericho, it’s the oddest thing, but for the last several weeks I’ve had the feeling that I’m never alone. I’ve never felt such ... peace, such a sense of security.” She rubbed her face against the cat’s head. “Between that and the dreams, I think maybe I’m finally losing it. What d’ya think?”

The cat meowed and butted his head against her chin. She laughed and placed him on the back of the sofa. “I know, you glutton. You want to be fed again. My horoscope warned me about you. ‘Today someone you love will be focused on their own needs. Don’t feel bad. They’ll come around.’”

She scratched the big tabby on his jaw, laughing again when he stretched his neck and tilted his head to give her better access. “And I do love you, fat cat. You’re my baby, aren’t you?”

Damon felt almost a sense of domesticity, watching her putter around the small apartment, talking to the cat and laughing at herself. If nothing else, her encounter with him seemed to have lightened her mood. For that he was glad. If only...

He deliberately closed his mind to further thought. He was here to do a job. He was to make sure she was protected from the man who sought to harm her, a man who had very nearly succeeded when her former Protector had been distracted.

Damon had been given very strict instructions to assure her safety; he’d sat beside her as she lay in the hospital bed, both legs in casts, face bruised and swollen. She had been stubbornly determined to get well, and he’d fallen a little bit in love with her then.

Abby had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had unwittingly witnessed a vicious crime. Not that she was even aware of it. But the man thought she was, and sought to silence her forever. Which was where Damon came in. He was her Protector, and he’d be damned if he’d let the villain succeed.

He stilled, realizing the import of his words. The veracity they represented. Never mind that she was his hope for redemption, another successfully completed assignment. He would accept the damnation of his eternal soul if it ensured that Abigail McNeil would be safe.

She was more than just a job to him, had been from the moment he’d materialized in her hospital room and had seen her lying so still against the sheets. Now, after having protected her for these many months, he knew he would risk everything to ensure she lived.

When she went into the bathroom and readied for bed, he stayed in the living room. Hearing the water in the shower running, he clenched his fists. He closed his eyes and had no problem picturing what she looked like. Her hair, wet and sleek down her back, curled slightly at the ends just above the rounded curve of her buttocks. Long, slender legs, once strong, now weaker and scarred.

In his mind’s eye, he moved around to her front. Her breasts rode high and firm above her ribcage. Each mound was tipped with a hard, pink nipple, begging for his mouth. Her stomach was slightly rounded, womanly. Soft, light red hair covered her mons and sheltered her secrets from his gaze. He could see her soaping her hands, running them over her soft skin, between her legs...

His cock rose and he stared in disbelief. Again he had an erection. What the hel...heck was going on?

The water shut off and he snapped open his eyes. He heard the shower curtain jangle open, and imagined her stepping out of the tub and toweling off. He wished it were his hands drying her. No, not his hands. His lips, his tongue. He would trace every drop of water, licking it off her silken skin.

~ ~ ~

If you haven't yet read Rae's excerpt, scroll down. You don't want to miss it!


Sherrill Quinn
Romance With An Edge
Website | Blog

Sun Sign Characteristics


My secret compulsion is to read my horoscope every single day. I have one of those 365-page-a-day calendars for my sun sign Pisces. Each day I read my horoscope. I also have my daily horoscope sent to my Yahoo home page.

Surprisingly enough, most days I can relate to the predictions. If nothing else, I use them as a guide to my day. I also find that while my sun sign’s typical characteristics are not one hundred percent "me," I am close enough to a typical Pisces to be scary. Of course, a true chart shows the ins and outs of rising signs and many other factors of my birth date and time, but for a general rule of thumb - - I am a Pisces female.

Don’t know what characteristics describe your sun sign?

Here is a general overview of positive indicators:

Aries: a leader, energetic, accepts challenges, helps others, takes risks for others, open, persistent, optimistic about people they meet.

Taurus: careful, tends to be conservative in outlook, dependable, loyal, calm and patient, artistic, thorough, attentive, very loving, resourceful, gentle, excellent cook, orderly.

Gemini: inquisitive, charming, entertaining, versatile, liberal, youthful, inventive, and non-prejudicial.

Cancer: tenacious, shrewd, intuitive, kind, compassionate, domesticated, good memory, helpful, caring, protective.

Leo: honest, loyal, sunny disposition, dignified, pride in her home, lively, friendly and kind, generous, accepts people at face value, courageous.

Virgo: gentle toward the helpless, sympathetic, humane, organized, witty, charming, physically sensual, painstaking, dedicated, emotionally warm.

Libra: cooperative, artistic, refined, opinionated, good negotiator, strong beliefs, loving and romantic, sense of fair play, uses brains not brawn, sincere, charming, communicative.

Scorpio: self-critical, investigative, passionately caring, protective, tenacious, magnetic, dynamic, emotional, sensual, compassionate, concerned, unshockable, intense.

Sagittarius: frank and open, optimistic, sees the best in people, honest and fair-minded, spiritual, enthusiastic, inspiring, happy, sensual, holds no grudges.

Capricorn: organized, cautious, realistic, hard-working, scrupulous, fearless, concerned, gives good advice, a traditionalist, respects authority.

Aquarius: communicative, thoughtful and caring, cooperative, dependable, scientific, humane, independent, people-person, loyal, inventive.

Pisces: loving and caring, trusting, hospitable, helpful to those in need, shy, romantic, creative, mystical, gentle and kind, compassionate, intuitive.

Do you match your sun sign? If not, how different are you?

Post a comment on this topic and Sherrill and I will later choose our favorite one and award a free download of Pisces.

Also, check back later today for a list of astrological compatibilities for your sun sign and another chance to win a copy of Pisces.

Yep, since there are two of us, Sherrill and I decided that the faithful SeX Blog readers should have double the opportunity to win twice!

Monday, February 20, 2006

Excerpt from "No Secrets," a Coven novella, by Rae Morgan

Every night since Debby had left him in Southern Illinois, Boris visited and, like an incubus, made mad, passionate love to her. Never mind that her sensual tormentor was physically hundreds of miles away in Chicago and she was in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Never mind that she’d told him repeatedly that she didn’t want him. Never mind that she’d reluctantly resorted to every defensive dark magick trick in the book, and some she’d made up, to forestall his nightly assault on her mind and body. He still visited and with only slight variations in technique, made carnal love to her on the highest levels of the astral plane.

Tonight he was late. Stupid fool that she was, she called him on it, as if she really cared. And she didn’t! Of course she didn’t.

"You’re late. Hot date?" Debby said.

"You missed me, bébé?"

"No, in fact, I was relieved."

Boris snorted. "Liar. I’m growing on you, admit it, little hell cat."

Boris’s astral body reached for her. Debby slapped his hand away and stepped back. Putting what she hoped was a look of disdain on her face, she drawled, "Growing on me? Yeah, like an icky, smelly fungus."

"Debby, my beloved one, you love me, but are just too stubborn to admit it."

"I don’t love you, Bo. Get away from me--" She backpedaled and came up against a stone wall that hadn’t been there two seconds earlier. That was the thing about dreams and the astral plane--real world physics went all to hell.

Trapped, she growled, "Get over yourself and leave me the hell alone. I’m sure there are lots of women in Chicago you can torment on a nightly basis. Some of us need our sleep, because we have a job to do."

"Actions speak louder than words, bébé. So let’s see just how much you hate my love-making, eh?"

Within the space of a millisecond, Boris’s astral body swept Debby’s dream self into a garden on the astral plane, high above the psychic-vamps and unaware dreamers trolling the lower levels. Her clothes whisked away by his thoughts, Debby was open to his sensual assault, once again helpless to fight him off.

Each night it was the same. It was as if her astral body wouldn’t listen to her higher brain, the part of herself that knew that Boris and all that he represented was bad for her. Instead some primitive part of her psyche drove her dreams, allowing her to become a helpless victim to Boris’s lovemaking.

Lately, in the pale gray of early morning after a night of indescribable, passionate sex, there were times she second-guessed herself. Maybe she was fighting Boris and herself far too hard. Maybe she could live with Boris, make a family, and perform magick. Then the bright dawn of reason arrived with the morning sun and she convinced herself yet again that turning her back on Boris and his magical world was the best thing she could do for herself--and for the world. Never again could she allow herself to lose control of the cursed powers she possessed. Yes, she’d helped rescue Selena, Gor, and Boris from the dark magician Darius, but the use of her powers, grown greater with age, both attracted and repelled her. Call her a coward, but she couldn’t face the horrifying darkness within her.

So she’d run home to her safe little world.

The Coven followed her--and Boris wooed her nightly.

"Little one, you are not paying attention. I am nibbling your neck and stroking your labia, but you are miles away. I am distraught."

Boris inserted a finger, then two into her vaginal opening, stroking and spreading her wetness over her puffy labia. Every few seconds, he’d flick her needy clit as if to announce that he was there and wasn’t leaving until he got the reaction he desired. Horny, sensual bastard.

"Distraught? That’ll be the day. If you must know, I was thinking of England."

Boris laughed. His lips moved from her hyper-sensitive neck to her turgid nipples. He licked then bit first one, and then the other until they were rosy and wet. All the while he increased the stroking of her sex. Already her body tightened as her arousal heightened. The tension was so great that she had to remind herself to breathe, just as she fought not to react, not to allow him to control her body.

It was a useless battle. He’d proven in the past that he could arouse her no matter how hard she tried not to respond. Each night she vowed to lie like a stone statue, and each night she ended up moaning, groaning and shouting his name to the alternate reality sky. The only thing she’d been successful at was denying him the words he wished to hear--and even those had come pretty damn close to the surface. But somehow she’d managed not to give him the words of love he wanted so badly. She couldn’t love him. She wouldn’t allow it. It was too dangerous.

A long talented finger stroked her G-spot. Debby moaned. The man knew how to push her buttons. If the sex were this good out-of-body, she figured she’d never survive the real thing.

"Oh, you will not only survive, but beg for more, bébé. Let me fly to you this night. Let’s take our love into the light of the real world."

"It’s this or nothing, Bo."

"You can’t stop me from visiting your dreams…"

"I’m working on it--don’t count me out. My blocking is becoming stronger. You can’t reach me any longer during the day. Admit it."

"As you say, I’m working on it, little cat. Don’t count me out. I am a persistent man when there is something I want."

"You’re a horny, overbearing, ruthless, obstinate Scorpio shifter is what you are."

"And you are my temperamental, slightly out of touch with reality Pisces match. It’s that Taurus rising that makes you so damn stubborn, but we Scorpions are a tenacious bunch."

"My mother told you my birth sign!"

"Your mother knows excellent son-in-law material when she sees it."

"Forget that, she just wants grandchildren."

"And for you to use your Goddess-given abilities."

Debby groaned. Boris was correct. Her mother had been acting strangely ever since she’d met Boris. Lately, she’d taken up knitting baby things--in blue. No pink. No yellow. Just blue. And she made duplicates of everything.

Debby was scared. Her mother had foreseen something and wasn’t telling her only daughter. Her own precognitive abilities were useless when it came to her own future, and Boris’s future was shrouded in a mysterious dark mist that she couldn’t penetrate--or was afraid to.

Debby was also afraid that Boris knew exactly what it was that her mother hid. It was a damn conspiracy.

"Your mother is an uncommonly intelligent woman--you should listen to her for a change."

"Bite me."

And he did--on her inner thigh, then worked his way with nibbling little kisses to her labia, now supersensitive from his finger’s ministrations.

"Come for me, Debby. Give me your moans, your sweet cries of passion. Tell me you’re mine."

Boris took her clit between his lips and sucked--hard.

Debby fell into a deep pool of whirling sensation as wave after wave of orgiastic pleasure surged across her body. As waves turned to ripples, Boris placed his engorged cock at her opening and surged inside, beginning the rhythm that would take her to the top once more. Groaning, Debby lay back and allowed him to sweep her to the stars again. She couldn’t fight him. It felt too good. And, after all, it was just out-of- body sex--not the real thing. She could always get her REM sleep later.

As Boris came into her, he shouted, "Je t'aime, bébé."

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