Friday, March 31, 2006

Kunzite and Love

I have been spending the last 3 weeks here in Louisiana with my family while the hubby is at sea. My visits home are usually not quite so long, generally it only a week or ten days. But this time, I've felt like I needed my family a bit more. I tend to get clingy when he's gone. But I AM looking forward to going home. I've been on vacation this time. My first time off in almost a year. I've completed 2 books in less than 9 months, and have another planned to be finished by the start of summer.

I adore travelling, I only wish I could bring Nanashi and Miyoko with me when I go. They are my two little siamese cats and utterly adorable! I substitute my affection for my absent husband on them and my characters in my stories. :)

There are few things in this world that I adore as much as my husband and my cats. Those few things are my job (writing), collecting vintage costume jewelry, and my love of fine jewelry and purses and shoes... okay, so there really is quite a bit! *lol*.

One thing that always makes me miss him the most, his excellent skills in the bed aside... Lord, the things that man can do with his... err... moving right along, one thing that always reminds me of him is this little Chinese enamel ball that I carry with me absolutely everywhere when he'd gone. He got it for me in Chicago when he graduated boot camp. A token. Nothing expensive, but it was the first thing he ever bought me without prompting or being reminded that the occasion was special. Despite the fact that my husband so graciously indulges my every whim for girly things, nothing means more to me than that little ball. And it stays in my pocket. I only have to look at it, and the randy images of my husbands cute little self plague me and ruin my concentration for hours. What I want to

My question for you, dear readers, in this entry, I want to know, what is one object that moves you, makes you just utterly pant for your lover? I'll be checking back. Most creative answer will get the privilege, a very rare one at that, of being given my AIM name for a little chat, and the chance to ask me anything in that session. Odd, but it's all I can think of! LOL.

So come on! Tell me what you think!

Mr. Grey winner!

And the winner of the competition is ~ cynthya! Please contact me on aj@ajaymatthews.com with your choice of format for your download of The Hotel Ghosts, and I'll get it to you soonest.

Well done to you, and many thanks to all of you who posted :)

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Hi, and welcome to my first guest spot on SEx!

Why is 'scary' so sexy? Vampires and werewolves, the tragic ghosts of dashing men and beautiful women all rouse more than just goosebumps! A phantom lover that comes by night - the stuff of dreams - or nightmares?

Here's an excerpt from Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts to whet your appetite for the world of paranormal love - and afterwards there's a couple of questions with the chance of a prize!

Prologue... Martin Grey and Claudia Mackenzie are investigating the haunting of an old hotel in New York City. Traveling up to the hotel ballroom in the old elevator, they find themselves in another time - and other bodies...

Chapter Three

They stepped forward into the crowd of people gathered at the ballroom doors, a host of ladies in fine colorful gowns and gentlemen in the sober blue of the Union Army waiting to be announced by the majordomo. From within the chamber lively music was playing over the noise of a sizeable assembly. As Martin and Claudia approached, those nearest turned and acknowledged them courteously. Two gentlemen in particular, one a general officer with splendid dark whiskers, the other a civilian with florid cheeks, smiled upon them with clear favor.

Inside the body of the man Martin felt numb with shock and dislocation. As his 'host' turned to smile at the slender woman with auburn hair Martin knew to be his wife, he swore he could see Claudia's spirit looking out of her emerald green eyes, equally shocked if not terrified. Around her neck was a splendid riviére necklace of gold and rubies; the multitude of rich red stones seemed to absorb and throw back the light.

The civilian, an avuncular grey-haired man in a rich fawn coat with a florid patterned waistcoat, beamed a welcome. "Why, Joseph! There you are, my boy!" He clapped Martin on the arm, and turned to take the lady's hand and kiss it. "Mrs. Cloverdale! I'm charmed to meet you again, ma'am. You look lovelier every time I see you!"

"Thank you, Senator," she said with a smile and curtseyed.

"That uniform suits you, son," the general said gruffly, looking Martin up and down. "I'm mighty glad to see you wearing it."

Martin glanced down at the blue serge coat of the Union, the twin gold bars of Captain's rank on the shoulder boards. "I'm proud to wear it, sir," he said, stiffening to attention. His voice had a definite Southern drawl. "To do my best for the Union cause."

"Good man." The general clapped him on the shoulder. "Ma'am." He bowed courteously to Mrs. Cloverdale. "I hope you both have a pleasant evening."

"Thank you, General," she replied as she took Martin's proffered arm.

The queue moved steadily forward, the majordomo announcing each party and couple. It came to their turn. "Captain and Mrs. Cloverdale!" the man called, and they entered the ballroom. Within, the crowd was hundreds-strong. The presence of so many people and the heat from the gas-lit chandeliers high overhead made the huge room quite warm, in spite of the cold of winter. Snow flurries whirled past the tall windows through the indigo backdrop of night, each flake caught for a moment in the yellow light spilling forth. An orchestra played elegantly on the stage, and waiters moved smoothly through the throng to serve drinks and refreshments.
Captain and Mrs. Cloverdale circulated, seemingly unaware of the incredulous passengers riding in their minds. Martin's initial panic subsided, to be replaced by strong excitement. He fervently wished he had some means of recording all he saw and heard. The whole experience was quite beyond anything he'd ever encountered.

As the orchestra struck up a lively reel Martin grinned and swept his wife onto the floor with dozens of other couples. "My, but they're playing all our favorites tonight!" she laughed as he led her in the dance. Her voice was a husky contralto with a Maryland twang, her laugh a pleasant throaty little chuckle.

"And you're the belle of the ball, Claire!" he replied and grinned.

They whirled around the floor, lost in the pleasure of the music and the moment, delighting in each other's company. And then the dance ended and the dancers applauded the orchestra. As Joseph and Claire turned to walk off the floor, they came face to face with a very angry man.
"Traitor!" he hissed through clenched teeth. The first syllable was drawn-out by his strong Southern accent.

"James!" Joseph stepped in front of Claire as if to protect her. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to give you some news, brother. Our father is dead!"

Martin felt his host reel back in shock. The stranger's face flushed a deeper crimson as he looked him up and down with contempt. "He died on the field of Fredericksburg last year. The news just reached me here. He was wounded badly in the third assault, but a damned Yankee still shot him down like a dog! Father would be turning in his grave to see his eldest sporting that damned coat!"

"Steady, son!" The stocky figure of the general interposed, pushing his way through the gathering crowd of onlookers. "Let's cool our heads now, you hear?"

"You go to hell, Yankee!" The man shook his fist in the general's face. "This is between me and my former brother here. Look at you, you damned treacherous scum!" He reached out and slapped Joseph's uniform with open contempt, then he turned to Claire Cloverdale and his eyes bulged. "And you've placed Mother's necklace around the throat of your fine Yankee whore, you bastard!"

Joseph/Martin's fist lashed out of its own accord, striking James square on the jaw. He fell back, limbs flailing to crash in a sprawling heap. The crowd gasped and stepped back. "Enough!" Joseph stood over him with his fists clenched. His breath was quick, ragged. "I'm mortally sorry for father's death. You know that, in your heart. You're angry, upset. Yet you will pay my wife due respect!"

"You're no brother of mine!"

James came up from the floor with murder in his eyes. At that moment two officers took a hand, rushing forward to seize and drag him back before he could reach their comrade. James struggled furiously in their grip.

The General gestured brusquely. "He's under arrest! Take him away!"

The two officers twisted their captive's arms behind his back and frog-marched him from the chamber. "Hurrah!" James struggled in their grip. "Hurrah for Dixie! Hurrah!"

A door slammed, and the rebel cry was cut off.

The Senator bustled up, his face red. "Damnation!" He looked around and bowed. "Begging your pardon for my intemperate language, ladies, but it makes my blood boil to hear that vulgar Secessionist cry here in our city. I'm especially hurt that it should be directed at a fine, upstanding young man like Captain Cloverdale here. A young man who, like so many of a just and righteous mind, has given up his home and birthright to fight for the Union.
"Hear me, ladies and gentlemen!" He warmed to his theme and exploited the moment like any good politician. "This dreadful war has torn families asunder! Father fights against son, and, yes, brother against brother." He nodded gravely. "Yet the blood of our soldiers, whatever or wherever their birth, stirs to the clarion call of our cause! They hear the call that summons all good men to preserve the Union, founded by our forefathers many years ago on the principles of Liberty and Justice for All..."

"Joe, take me away from here," Claire whispered as the diatribe got into full swing, the audience hanging on the Senator's words. "That fight, your brother's foul words, have left me quite ill!"

"Let's go to our room, my darling," Joseph said soothingly. "The Senator, bless him, has no need of us here!"

He took her arm and led her from the room, unnoticed by the majority of the crowd. The elevator boy was by the door, where he had been avidly watching the proceedings, and he hastened to operate the elevator for them. They rode up two floors, and made their way to their room.

* * * *
Inside, private at last, Claire put her arms around her husband and held him tight. "I do worry so, Joe!" she whispered.

"About what, my dear?" he asked softly, breathing the scent of her hair.

"About you; about this war. I fear..."

"That I won't come back?" He smiled gently. "I have to serve, Claire. I must do my duty, to preserve the country I believe in. You know that." She sniffled and nodded dolefully.
He touched her cheek. "Yet I will come back, I swear, from whatever distant field I serve in."
"Oh, Joe!" She clung to him, her body shuddering with emotion.

He kissed her, his hands wandering of their own accord to hold and embrace his wife. She sighed deeply and melted against him, a warm, lively human being he felt so damn lucky to have. Then, somehow, the laces of her dress were undone, his fingers untying the cords almost of their own volition. Claire pulled the heavy fabric from her shoulders, letting it fall to one side, and following it with the cumbersome hoops of the crinoline. She stood before him in her most intimate garments, a bloom coloring her cheeks. His eye was drawn to the tight knot of curly hair between her thighs, showing dark and clear against the pale fabric of her crotch-less pantaloons. They had been married only a few weeks, and Joseph marveled at the way she still flushed with pleasure and a becoming shyness as he gazed upon her.

Her flush grew deeper as he stepped close, slipped one hand around her waist and the other between her legs. Claire gasped as his fingers slid slowly over the melting softness of her pussy lips, feeling the warmth, the wetness of his wife's response to his touch.

She fumbled with the buttons of his tunic, her usually delicate fingers turning rough with urgency, until she pulled it from him and flung it away. His pants followed the tunic to the floor, and then they set about the combinations, giggling at the awful garment even through their mounting lust.

Joseph writhed out of the combinations, shedding the cloth like a chrysalis, and stood, feeling mighty proud at his physique. Claire's face wore the look of wonder and pure glee he now associated with their most intimate moments; the look of a woman not long out of virginity who was discovering all the pleasures of sex. She trembled as she wriggled and pushed her way out of her chemise, pantaloons and stockings, her gaze flickering between his face and his tumescent cock.

At last she was naked, her face and throat flushed dark in the dim lamplight. The lamp cast planes of light over her breasts and belly and thighs, and deep, mysterious shadows haunted the folds under her full round orbs and between her thighs. Joseph stepped close, embracing her, reaching down to pull his penis up so it lay pressed between the softness of her belly and his harder, more muscular one. Her wonderful breasts pressed against his chest, fat round pillows of delight he loved to touch and squeeze and taste and suckle upon.

Then Claire's lips were on his, her hands clutching his head to pull him down, her tongue sliding between his lips to twine and dance in his mouth. Her breath was hot on his face and growing steadily more ragged as her passion mounted. Joseph cocked an eye towards the bed to get his bearings, and steadily pushed her back toward it until the backs of her legs hit the edge of the high bed and they toppled onto it, giggling and clasped together.

He lay upon her then, hands wandering, feeling and savoring every square inch of her wonderful curvaceous body. She was pliant in his arms, flexing and sighing and moaning as he touched her, kissed her lips, her cheeks, her throat, then down, down to her full breasts. Her moans reached new heights as he pinched her nipples, hard. It was something he had learned inadvertently the second night they had spent together as man and wife. Where he had thought he had done harm, she had responded with unexpected pleasure.

Claire responded now, clutching him, holding him against her, as she writhed to position herself directly under him. His cock dragged across her belly, through the wiry hair of her pussy, and dropped between her thighs. Her legs twined themselves around his hips, and he could feel her heels pressing into the taut muscles of his butt.

"I want you inside me! Now!" She moaned.

He chuckled. "I believe I can oblige you there, madam!"

She took his hand and wrapped the fingers around his shaft. Together they guided it to the sopping wetness of her quim, and Joseph entered her.

Much as he wanted to plunge fathoms deep into his wife, he found enough resolve to heighten her pleasure. He entered her a little way and then withdrew, using his hand to slide the head of his cock up and down her soft inner lips. Claire moaned and writhed. He gave a snort of teasing laughter and entered her again, moving in a little further, then out once more.

"Ohhh! Damn you, Joe!" Claire's face was swollen with pleasure and she looked at him with an expression in which pleasure, hunger and reluctant amusement mingled.

He winked, and entered her again. Cruelty could only be taken so far. He slid deep inside her until his balls smacked lightly against her butt. Claire's legs tightened convulsively around his hips and her arms crushed him against her. She breathed deeply in contentment, and kissed him, long and tenderly. "I love you, Joe Cloverdale!"

"And I love you, Claire."

He began to ride her then, long, slow, deep and leisurely thrusts, each stroke using the whole of his shaft. Claire's soft moans of contentment gave way to little cries of pleasure, as she nibbled his lips and ears. Joseph could feel her breasts moving against him, her thick teats brushing through the hair on his chest, as they rolled and swayed in time to his thrusts. His own passion was rising now, and he leaned into Claire with a growing urgency, spurred on by her cries of encouragement. Her juices slicked his cock and coated his groin as he pushed deep into her, her pussy mashing against his loins as she matched his rhythm, her hips bucking hard to meet his. Claire's tight pussy clasped him convulsively, each muscle spasm coming faster and faster, and faster, until she screamed with release.

Joseph winced as her nails raked across his back, but the pain and his wife's cries served to topple him over the edge. He groaned, long and deep, as he spent inside her, his cum flooding her, mingling with her juices in the ultimate act of their joining.

All through their love-making, Martin was an astonished and totally embarrassed passenger in Joseph Cloverdale's mind. As Joseph gazed lovingly into his wife's eyes and smiled at her in post-coital bliss, Martin could see an equally astonished and embarrassed Claudia looking at him from Claire's eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And so to the questions - what makes the paranormal/supernatural so sexy to you? Has anyone had an encounter with a sexy ghost?
If you want to take part, say "sexy spooks" somewhere in your post and I'll pick an answer at random to receive a free download of Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts! I'm in a different time-zone here in the UK, so I'll announce the lucky winner tomorrow. Good luck!

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

What's your Fantasy?

In the immortal words of Ludacris, "But I gotta, kn-kn-kn-know what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy". If you're a fan of hip hop music, like I am, then you know exactly where I'm heading with this blog. I want the dirt, the complete and unvarnished truth, of what you find arousing. No more beating around the bush (pun more than likely intended), it's time to spill the beans on what turns you on.

Are you a closest perv? Or are you openly experimental? Have you lived your fantasy? Or all you still waiting for that thing that'll make you go "Uhhhh"?

Now I believe that turnabout is fair play. I'm more than happy to share my own thoughts on the matter. When I was younger, say early twenties, I thought doing it in the shower would be cool. That fantasy died a swift death in college when I slipped out of my tub one too many times. Sad part is, I was alone and merely trying to dry off. Go figure! Then in my mid-twenties, I began to think that two men might be an interesting diversion. Well, let me tell ya, I had a small taste of that a couple weeks ago when a tag team of foreign men decided to grope me at the same time. It wasn't as interesting as I thought it would be. Now that I've reached my mid- to late twenties, I've come up with a new fantasy.

If you've read any of my work, you know that a small bit of S & M comes into play every once and a while. Now I'm not talking, "Say my name, bitch!" kind of thing. Just a little bit of restraints and handcuffs. Maybe a smidge of spanking to keep it interesting. I'll let ya'll know how this one plays out as it happens. (wink wink)

Now that you know more about me than you probably wanted to, it's your turn! Come on and give me the low down on what gets you all hot and bothered.

Robin
www.robindanner.com
Putting the "R" in Regencies...

Fictionwise Winner!

Sorry I'm late...for some reason my hotel ISP wouldn't let me in yesterday! Bamabelle...give me a shout out at keiraramsay@cox.net and I'll hook you up with your FW gift certif!!

Keira

Rebecca on Good Intentions


Don’t you just hate it when your intentions and your follow-through fail to match up? When what you meant to achieve just somehow goes….wrong? Like me today for example, I had every intention of writing an absolutely riveting blog….then my hubby got home from a week away, and I…well…I forgot about the blog!

I also hate it when people proclaim their good intentions, tell everyone how they meant well…and yet manage to constantly let other people down. This, I believe, is a reflection of their true intentions. On this point I have to concur with a certain Mr Thanissaro Bikkhu, whose quote I use at the beginning of my new book Good Intentions…

There's an old saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but that's not really the case. The road to hell is paved with intentions that are careless, lustful, or mean. Good intentions -- in proportion to their true goodness -- tend toward heavens of pleasure.

The concept behind this statement fascinated me. ‘Heavens of pleasure’ huh? I like the sound of that! In fact…just to give you an idea of where this kernel of an idea led, I thought I’d include a little excerpt.

“Mmm, my favorite.” The words rolled blissfully across her newly reawakened taste buds. “So, you haven’t told me what you do.”
His chuckle accompanied a mischievous half-smile as he offered his hand again. This time there was less of a businesslike shake and more of an exploratory caress about the way their palms met. “Twain Morgan ... maker of Jarrah Donaldson’s favorite cheeses.”
“Really?” Somehow the words she’d meant to sound like a pleased exclamation came out sounding like an invitation.
“Really,” he affirmed, gorgeous, sandpapery voice washing goose bumps all across her skin. Obviously he’d heard the tone in her words, the tone that said, ‘You’re really rather stunning, and I think you should take me to bed,’ because he responded in kind.
Cool evening air was heavy between them. His eyes roamed over her face and body like a big cat appraising a meal. Wanting to be eaten, but not knowing how to initiate the next move, Jarrah felt adrenaline begin its rushing course. Suddenly she was aware of everything about him, from the size and shape of his body to the rhythm of his breath. She’d never dealt with anyone as overwhelming as Twain before, so just the thought of how they might proceed left her warm and quivering with anticipation.
He didn’t leave her to wonder for long. She smiled when his hand came to cup her neck. His thumb gently rubbed the skin just below the angle of her jaw.
“You really do look like a wood nymph, you know.” His mouth moved closer with each word.
“Is that a good thing?” she asked, trying to keep the mood light, despite the drowning sensation slowing her thoughts.
“Yeah, that’s a very good thing.” His lips whispered across hers.
She lifted her hands to his shoulders, murmured wordless encouragement and felt him respond. He deepened the kiss, angled his lips across hers. Jarrah felt a snap of recognition crack across every nerve in her body. She felt him all the way to her toes. The sensation was one of plunging into a warm bath. Something in the core of her rippled into life, drawn deep and low and in need of him.
The blond curls of his hair were soft beneath her fingers as she held him close. The recesses of his mouth were warm with the lightly fruity flavor of her chardonnay. He groaned, dragging her closer as though she might melt into him and they could be one. The last clinging tendrils of light disappeared from the sky, leaving Jarrah in the dark, but feeling right at home. Her body belonged right here in his arms. Thrilling tingles sang along her taut nerves. She whimpered with the need to be closer, feel nothing between them.
Twain stiffened. She felt the change in him just a moment before he disentangled her fingers from his hair. Removing his hand from where his fist had grasped the waistband of her jeans, he cupped the nape of his own neck and looked everywhere but at her.
“I ... I’d better go.” His words were ragged. Obviously he was as affected as she by what had passed between them, no matter what his distant gaze might otherwise have led her to believe.
“If you like.” She tilted just one corner of her mouth at him, hoping to appear calm and cool in the middle of the heat still flowing like lava in her blood. If he thought she was going to beg for the pleasure of his company, he had another think coming.
“Yeah, I really should.” She barely caught his quiet words. Cicadas, crickets and geckos had begun their nighttime calls. Amid nature’s racket, she watched him turn, slap his thigh and bring Abel to heel. Of all the times for the damned dog to learn manners! In three steps, Twain Morgan disappeared into the black sheet of night that fell just outside the perimeter of her porch.
Shit! Jarrah collected her plate and the wine glasses. Inside she kicked the back door shut and leaned her full weight against it. She flexed her jaw to release some of the tension building there. Who had ever known a straight male to knock back a roll in the hay? What was wrong with her? She never behaved this way, never threw herself at men. Especially not pensive, quiet men she’d only just met. Tapping her foot back against the door, she waited for her pulse to settle and the disappointed tears to clear. Sighing, she eased away from the door to dump the plate and glasses on the bench. A little seduction wouldn’t have hurt her new life. In fact, that had been part of her vows to herself when she’d decided on this new life. No more forcing issues or relationships. No more trying to fit into social norms. In her new life she would take her pleasures where she found them and not fret over tomorrows. She flicked off her kitchen light as she made for the lounge room and her mattress on the floor. From now on, she was making hay while the sun shone. Sprawled across her low and mournfully empty bed, she listened to the night noises of her new home. From somewhere in the darkness, came a deep, sonorous, owl-like cry.
Jarrah knew just how it felt.
What about YOU? Where have your good intentions led? Best answer wins a copy of Good Intentions!

Ends of the Earth - blurb


Ends of the Earth
Interlude Two of the RuneQuest
by: Keira Ramsay

Chloe Saint James has lived the last forty years on the fringe of society … both human and Fae. With historian Logan Whitefeather she finds a kindred soul, and one searching for the same thing she is—the Rune of Domain.

But will the fires of passion continue to burn as bright when an enemy from Chloe’s past threatens not only their lives, but the future of the Fae?

Ends of the Earth - excerpt

Chloe Saint James stood slowly, brushing coarse dust from her brown woolen gown as she surveyed the newly formed fissure rending the dry southern California earth. The surrounding terrain was as nondescript as it was enthralling, colored in shades of umber and dusty green and gray. Small clumps of mesquite and rounded granite boulders dotted the horizon, relieving the otherwise flat landscape. Austere as it was, it was perfect for her state of mind and heart--a heart that had just discovered a new purpose within the chasm at her feet.

Remnants of ancient power sang along her nerve endings. It called to her from the very soil itself, twining into a soul that had been bereft for too many years.

She raised her head and threw her arms wide joyously, letting the energy flow over her, reveling in it as it replenished her from the inside out. It danced on her fingertips, swam through her blood, flowed like a river of the finest wine on her tongue.

Oh yes, the earth cried out to her, but it was more than that. A power almost as primitive and complex as that of the land was buried in this Siren’s song and she recognized it for what it was ... a rune. More specifically, the Rune of Domain. Its unique signature was distinct, something she could feel down to the marrow of her bones.

How yet another artifact from the Realm had found its way across an ocean and continent was of no concern to her. Finding the rune was.

As Elder to the Earth Sect of the Realm of the Fae, her destiny, her fate, might very well lie beneath the parched earth. She might finally be able to return home to the emerald grass and loamy soil of her adopted homeland. To the extended family she hadn’t seen in over forty years.

A brief thrill zinged through her as she considered returning to the Realm with pride and a measure of redemption, rather than because she was so lonely she thought her soul had begun to splinter.

Wrong! She wasn’t lonely. Her solitary existence was because she chose it to be so, not for any other reason. Certainly not for the reason most in the Realm suspected.

Regardless of her motivation, it was imperative the stone be returned to the Realm. With the Rune of Fate so recently recovered, she had sensed a strengthening in the bond of the High Council. What would happen if this rune, her rune, were discovered?

Arms still raised, she petitioned the earth itself. If answers were to be found, she would discover them beneath her feet.

* * * *

Logan Whitefeather topped the small rise, eyes on the ground around him. It was snake season, and getting hit by a diamondback this far away from proper medical care was a sure recipe for disaster--something he knew from first-hand experience, which was why he carried a snake-bite kit now. Not that it would do a bit of good this far from town. He’d been lucky the first time, damned lucky.

But even with the snakes, how he loved the desert, how he missed it when he was crammed into his tiny cubicle at Los Angeles Air Force Base. Hell, he even missed the reservation when he’d been down the mountain for more than a few months. He spent far too much time reading dusty tomes and compiling statistics. Yeah, it brought in a decent amount of money, but most of that went back to his parents, and by extension, his tribe.

One of these days, he would find the artifact he sought, the stone he was fated to find, if his teenage vision quest was correct. The relic that had first elicited his interest in archaeology and kept him in a lower-paying job once he’d completed his degree so he could freely rove across the desert. He could only hope finding the stone would bring his people the direction they so sorely needed.

He shifted his backpack more comfortably on his shoulders, prying the shovel blade away from his back and lifted his head, his attention snagged by fragments of words riding the scant breeze, lyrical and potent. Then he saw her, and stopped dead in his tracks.

A pagan goddess stood, not twenty yards away, brown robes swirling in a strong gust that cycloned around her, but nowhere else. Long, chestnut hair tumbled down her back in a riot of curls stopping just shy of her ass. Slender, well-defined arms were flung out, as if welcoming the world. Her chant raised the hair on his arms. “Mother Goddess, I humbly beseech you; return the Rune of Domain to its rightful guardian. Show me, with your guiltless wisdom, where it lies.”

Logan’s heart stuttered to a stop in his chest as he quickly considered what she was asking Mother Earth. Rune of Domain? There damn sure couldn’t be two mystical stones hanging out in the Los Angeles hardpack, so he was almost positive she was referring to the Moonstone. His relic. The question of the day was what he was going to do about it, if anything.

She solved it for him by swinging around and piercing him with a sharp, assessing glare, her face half hidden by a swath of hair. He wondered what had given him away, because he could’ve sworn he hadn’t made a sound.

“Begone mortal. You have no place here.”

No place here? Logan was stunned, sudden anger boiling his blood. This was his tribal land. Whoever she was, she was the usurper. “No place here? I have every right to be here. Who in the hell do you think you are?”

“I know who I am. Who you are is irrelevant.” She actually waved her hand, as if shooing him out of a room.

He strode forward in furious, ground-eating strides until he was within an arm’s reach of her. “That’s where you’re wrong, medicine woman.” He surveyed her body in one slow sweep, from the tips of her toes to the riotous mass of curls still covering half of her face. The side he could see was radiant, beautiful and so unbearably arrogant he had the insane, overwhelming urge to wipe the expression from her face with a punishing kiss. So he stepped forward to do just that.

What he got when he grasped her arm was the very last thing he expected. Power screamed up his fingers, crawling through his body like a living thing. He yanked his hand away with a muttered curse and stared at her.

“What are you?”

She still looked at him haughtily, face half-hidden, but something flickered behind her eyes.

“It is of no concern to you,” she paused as if weighing her words, “human.” When she answered him, he detected a hint of fatigue. Even with, or perhaps because of that fatigue, her voice took on a throaty Lauren Bacall rasp that shivered over his skin like pure sex.

Before he could blast her for performing rituals on the reservation, before he could even begin to consider the electricity still dancing over his nerves, she began chanting in a language Logan had never heard before and placed a cool hand on his forehead.

Logan’s muscles immediately froze, locked in place. Even his vocal cords were immobilized. Only his brain seemed to work, and it was whirling like a dervish. What in the hell had she done?

“Have no fear. The binding spell will only last a few moments.” Now the weariness in her voice was more evident. Not that he gave a damn.

She removed her hand and shifted, revealing her whole face for the first time.

As stunningly beautiful as one side had been, the other was covered in a mass of scars snaking across her cheek and chin, winding around one eye and disappearing into her hairline. Logan would have gasped if he’d been able. Her face was a perfect dichotomy.

A bitter smile tipped her lips. “Shocking, isn’t it? I can see it in your eyes.” She lifted a hand in salutation. “As always, it is of no matter. Be well, human.” Then she was striding away from him in quick, loping strides, robe billowing around her, molding to a delectable body that would have made his cock stand at attention--if it’d been capable of vertical motion.

Long moments passed as he stood, petrified, capable of only one thing--thinking. What in God’s name was she? He turned her words over in his head, hearing again the phrase that seemed the most important--Rune of Domain.

Morning After ~ Keira Ramsay & Rebecca Williams



Ends of the Earth
by
Keira Ramsay

&

Good Intentions
by
Rebecca Williamns

Monday, March 27, 2006

Making Major Changes

I haven't been writing this past month at all, except, I write every single day. Many years ago, I started writing fanfic. I wrote fanfic every single day. I was very happy, because it was just me and whatever small audience I could find. Sure, sometimes if I wrote slow, or failed to update in a timely fashion, somebody would bitch at me. I would then say, "I'm sorry. I'll refund all the money you've sent me. Oh wait...."

Because I didn't get paid. I did it for the love of writing.

So I haven't been writing anything in the past month, except something that very few people will see. Something that I'm doing purely for the fun of it. Something I'm doing for me. I feel very guilty when I'm not having a lot of fun.

Don't get my wrong. I have fun writing my novels. But you really do have to take a good number of things into consideration. Who is your audience? What do they expect to see? What publisher are you targetting? What do THEY expect to see? What are the conventions you must include? What are the conventions you can ignore? These sort of questions can affect everything from word choice ("cock" vs an euphamism like "manhood") to character development to the freaking title! In fact, I have a book placed with a publisher right now, and the editor emailed and told me that the title must be changed.

Unfortunately for me, she didn't offer any suggestions. I hate thinking of titles.

What I am working on now is a purely collaborative affair. I must drive my writing partners crazy. I don't write with an outline in mind. I am not a plotter. My novels are character-driven, and I'm not sure I'd know a real plot if it slapped me in the face. It is a learning experience, to say the least. It's especially nice when one of my partners asks me what I want to do in the next section and allI can say is, "I don't know." Because I don't know. I can't see into the future in my own life, I sure as hell can't see into the future in my characters' lives! That always brings up an interesting discussion. Well, it used to be interesting. Now it's been beaten to death on every single writers' board and forum on the Internet. To plan or not to plan, that is the question. I'm going to tell you the answer now, in case you're wondering, having been on both sides of the fence--it doesn't matter. Figure out what works for you and run with it, and if anybody tell you you're doing it wrong, tell them they can jump in the lake.

Despite my current vacation from professional writing, things have been going well for me this year. I was a finalist in the Amber Quill Heat Wave Contest with my story The Streets of Florence. I actually wrote about 80% of it while in Florence, and for me the best part is all the details I managed to include. Re-reading it was like going back there for a few minutes. I'm surprised it won, because I always thought it just wasn't. quite. right. But hey, what do I know? Amber Quill Press also requested the full of a different novel, a western called Dead Man's Corner.

I was also a runner-up in Harlequin's Everlasting/Epic contest with my novel Engaging Carol. They requested to see the full. I sent it in a little over a month ago and now we just wait.

Well, I think that was appropriately long and rambling. I have a few recommendations, though. If you enjoy listening to audio books, pick up Augusten Burrough's Running with Scissors and Dry. He reads them himself and he's brilliant. Even if you've already read the memoirs, get it on tape. Also, if you enjoy good music on live albums, check out Wilco's Kicking Television. They capture the Wilco-concert experience perfectly.

Irreverent Jokes...


The Dangers of Having An Affair

Jake was dying. His wife sat at the bedside. He looked up and said weakly, "I have something I must confess."

"There's no need to," his wife replied.

"No," he insisted, "I want to die in peace. I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!"

"I know," she replied, "now just rest and let the poison work."


Give us your favorite irreverent jokes
and I'll pick someone to recieve a free download.

Laughter and prizes all wrapped up in one fun blog!

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Joaquin & Ed & Patrick! Aka…my fave leading men…

So I have some pretty non-traditional fave leading men. Yeah, I think Vin and Duane are yummy and will watch their stuff, but the guys I absolute HAVE to watch…drumroll please…

Joaquin Phoenix…I’ll watch anything and everything that he’s in, and usually be blown away. His recent turn as Johnny Cash in Walk the Line was no exception. My adulation began with Inventing the Abbotts, and since then I’ve seen ‘em all. My two faves tho, are Clay Pigeons and Hotel Rwanda…movies that the traditional moviegoer might not usually see but are “do not miss” flicks for me.






Another of my “guys” is Ed Harris…I know, he’s older and semi-bald, but damn! He totally works for me! I got hooked on him after The Right Stuff, but his two best, at least IMHO are The Abyss and Needful Things. And crap…I forgot Enemy at the Gates and Beautiful Mind…and The Rock and Just Cause…sigh…






Last but not least is Patrick Stewart… My hubby keeps joking that he never needs to worry about going bald (VBG)! I know that Jean-Luc “did it” for a lot of women, and I was no exception!






So who are your fave leading men…blog with me today and the winner will receive a $10 gift certif. to Fictionwise!

Terri

Saturday, March 25, 2006

Winner!

Tamara,
you deserve a hug, lady. icyhothunks.com is a true winner. Email me at kayelle@kayelleallen.com to claim your prize. At the Mercy of Her Pleasure or For Women Only Available in PDF, HTML, Microsoft Reader LIT, MobiPocket (PRC) and RocketBook (RB)

Thanks to those who stopped by. Come visit my site too - http://www.kayelleallen.com

Kayelle

A Hard Man is Good to Find

Did I read that right? Heck yeah!

No blog about SEx would be complete without some reference to cock, balls, hot hung studs or bdsm. There, that should make the naughty googlers of the world happy.

Seriously, I have a few great "hottie" sites to share with you. Let's start with Manopoly. http://www.manopoly.com/ Don't go here if you're offended by naked muscular men in extremely revealing poses. Or if you don't like seeing two men posing together in shall we say... "compromising" positions. You will not find porn, however. If you want that, google any of the highlighted keywords in the paragraph above. ^_^

If you like beautiful young men (and downright bad bad bad boys) in seriously compromising positions with others of their ilk (read NC17), check out PL Nunn's unbelievable talent at Bishonen Works. [OMG what are they doing with that thing? *gasp*] http://bishonenworks.com/ What's a bishonen? The loose definition is a Japanese term for a pretty boy. It's much more, but for now, that'll work. Here's another cool site for this - but strictly for the straight and pretty-much-narrow crowd. http://www.bishoneninfo.curvedspaces.com/

And for the ultimate hot man - no one can beat Superman. Here, without comment or preamble, are links to a Superman fansite http://www.supermanhomepage.com/news.php , the current Superman (Smallville) Tom Welling, http://tom-welling.org/ and the new one, Brandon Routh (Superman Returns). http://supermanreturns.warnerbros.com/ Up, up and away!

Don't forget to post your own weird, unusual, wacky, or funny site.

It's All Geek to Me

Yeah - Geek, not Greek. Since today is my day to share, I thought I'd give you all a few more tastes of the weirdness that is my life. Lucky you.

Here's the next site. http://thinkgeek.com Think Geek - Stuff for Smart Masses. Cute, huh?

What do geeks like best? I'll give you a hint. (it keeps us awake) Ooops! Did I say "us"? Uh, I meant "them." Yeah, that's it...

Want a tee shirt sporting a caffeine molecule? How about "soap with caffeine infused in it? Believe it. A truly clean buzz..." Maybe you want some Jolt Cola, or Jolt Gum? Twice the caffeine. Gotta try their "Mints with caffeine, peppermint, spearmint, guarana, gingko biloba, ginseng, more!"

Prefer chocolate? I can help you with that. Try the Buzz Bite, a true chocolate chew (say that 3 times fast). "1 Buzz bite chew has as much caffeine as 1.25 Red Bulls or 3 cans of coke. Wowzers."

And you thought Dilbert was the king of Geeks. You ain't seen nothin' yet, sister. Try this link: http://www.thinkgeek.com/tshirts/generic/810c/ You'll say "OMFG!" and really, really mean it.

Have fun.

When Size Matters

I knew this title would get your attention! Because I write Science Fiction Romance, I'm always searching for interesting science tidbits and info. Today I have a wacky site for you to visit that provides both science and a bit of fun.

NEO is the Near Earth Orbit division of the Jet Propulsion Lab. Remember them? JPL sent those fascinating little crawlers to Mars and also tested samples from a comet. They always have something going on.

Would you like to learn something new? http://neo.jpl.nasa.gov/neo.html This page has a cool video program that lets you find out how close meteors are to our world - the likelihood of them crashing - and finally -- yes! whether size does matter. (it does) Who says education is boring?

Remember, post your own fun / wacked out site to be entered in the drawing.

Despair is Your Friend

Okay - so you don't think I've gone over the deep end with that title... let me explain.

One of my friends surfed onto a site and thought it was so weirdly sick (and funny) that of course she sent it straight to me.

Despair, Inc. is a site that pokes ungentle fun at the corporate world. Think of it as Dilbert on steroids. Hmm... and caffeine. And maybe a few other recreational choices too. In fact, I'd like to know what they were on when they thought this up. And how much it is by the pound...

My day job is in Human Resources (HR) so since this site was all about corporate cultures and the whims of executives, I sent it to my boss. I sit right next to her, so when she got it, I had the pleasure of seeing her laugh so hard she had to put her head down on her desk to catch her breath. This material is so un-PC it's downright scary. But brilliant.

Want the link? Here you go. I'm starting you off on the Demotivators page - a slew of posters that will make you stop and go "What the hell?" The next paragraph is stolen -- er, I mean borrowed -- straight from their page:

AT DESPAIR, INC., we believe motivational products create unrealistic expectations, raising hopes only to dash them. That’s why we created our soul-crushingly depressing Demotivators® designs, so you can skip the delusions that motivational products induce and head straight for the disappointments that follow!

Here's the Compromise poster. http://www.despair.com/compromise.html

Once you check this site out, come back and find out what else I have to share.

In the morning there will be a drawing for one of my books - At the Mercy of Her Pleasure, or For Women Only. To enter, post a wacky site that's a favorite of yours.

SEx ... Silver Expressions

SEx ... Silver Expressions
Ok, so the bar closed a little early....
And the winner is
drumroll please...

Little Lamb Lost

Please email me at Feather@FeatherMarosek.com to receive your copy of The Naughty Dagger. Please put the book title in the subject line so your message doesn't get deleted by accident. Thanks for posting :)

Friday, March 24, 2006

SEx ... Silver Expressions

SEx ... Silver Expressions

So, once again it is my day to post and I’m up till all hours trying to figure out what to talk about. Sitting here drinking JD and munching on a Chocolate Chip Muffin.

Actually I’m awake cause this is the only time of day I can do anything without having a growth (read: 2 month old) attached to my nipple. While there are indeed many benefits to breastfeeding that do, indeed, outweigh the drawbacks, those drawbacks can be killer. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that it’s more convenient, doesn’t affect your sex-drive and is cheaper. In my case that couldn’t be further from the truth. My grocery bill has gone through the roof! I’m one of those people everyone else loves to hate, I have the gods-awful habit of forgetting to eat and when I do it’s usually more like snacking than actually eating.

Yeah, yeah, I know, most of you reading this are probably gasping in disbelief, thinking to yourself “How can anybody possibly forget to EAT?!” Honestly, it’s not that hard when you’ve got a million and one things going on. Your tummy rumbles or grumbles, you start to feel hungry and think to yourself, Ok as soon as I finish this I’ll grab something. So you grab a couple of crackers to hold you over till you finish whatever it was you wanted to finish but by the time you finally do finish you forgot that you were gonna eat something. You remember only when you start getting a headache or lightheaded from lack of food or someone else puts something in front of you. Honestly, there have been days where I was writing and my DH puts food within reach just to make sure I eat. And I do eat the grilled cheese sandwich or piece of fruit he puts out for me, generally not even realizing I did so.

OK, so on to what I was actually wanting to blog about today: Reviews.

I am honestly really happy with the reviews I’ve been getting for ‘The Naughty Dagger’ and I’m truly grateful that people seem to like it (I just got an email saying I got FIVE CUPS at Coffee Time Romance Reviews, Yeah Me!). BUT are they really necessary? Don’t get me wrong they seem to be good for promotional purposes, being able to say I got this and this at so and so site is good to add on to my webpage but how many readers actually read the full review or if they do read it actually give a damn? After all a review is just one persons opinion and unless you’ve read other books that have been reviewed by the reviewer of the book your looking at and just happen to agree with the reviews, why on earth would their opinion matter?

Before I became a published author I’d never once visited a review site. I’d look up my favorite authors, see if they’d come out with anything new, read the back and if it sounded interesting, I’d buy it. If none of my favs had anything new I’d go to the bookstore and browse. I didn’t (and still don’t) care what reviewers have to say about books or movies. If I think it sounds interesting I’ll watch the movie or read the book. Actually buying the Novel based on the Screenplay has saved me a lot of money in the past. For example, I saw the previews for Ultraviolet on TV and thought it sounded like a really cool movie. Not having the time (or money) to go to the theater to see it I bought the book. I didn’t particularly like it so instead of going to see it I’ll wait till they show it on TV. So what about you? Do you actually care what other people think? I’ve heard rave reviews about the new King Kong movie, but I still won’t go to see it. I saw the original and absolutely hated the ending. Having them remake it doesn’t make me want to see it no matter how much better it’s supposed to be. They’ve been remaking a lot of old movies that were horrible the first time round (my parents had the first version of “The Hills have Eyes” on video and I still have nightmares about that sometimes) and are getting ‘great’ reviews now. They sucked the first time round and different actors aren’t going to make the plot any better or the endings more palatable, so what do I care what reviewers say? Honestly, I don’t. In general while I am deeply gratified that the people that took the time to review my book enjoyed it and gave it good ratings those ratings are still based on one simple truth: It’s just an opinion and as the saying goes, just like anal cavities, everyone has their own.

Enough now of my tipsy ramblings (hey, she’s sleeping from 1 AM to 6 AM now so by the next feeding the alcohol will no longer be in my system). It’s time for me to sign off for now, though I’ll be checking back throughout the day to see what you guys have to say (I welcome comments about any part of my ramble not just the reviews part) and to keep telling you what I think. Once again I’ll be giving away a copy of my book but this time there are two conditions attached…

1) To enter to win it, when you post a comment you have to start it out with “I’m In”

2) You have to promise to email me when you finish reading it and let me know what you think. While as a reader I don’t care about what other people think as an author I really really wanna know. Let me know even if you hate it, as long as your honest you wont hurt my feelings (hell I’m a stripper, I’ve got to have a thick skin!)

Thanks for reading my rant, later :)

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Oh, y'all...

I'm *so* loving hearing about your critters - both current and past! Please, keep it up. The stories are fascinating.

In thanks, I'm sharing a little dog-related snippet from All that Glitters. Chas and Josh are fixin' to go on tour together and have both decided that they need to bring the dogs along.

Whether or not that's a wise decision. ;-)

***

"No, Jeffy. You and Sue Ellen take good care of me." Chas sighed and sat back, closed her eyes. Sometimes she wondered if her singing was worth all this hullaballoo.

Snuffling, Mokey tried to crawl up in her lap, wanting to comfort her. Silly mutt. Josh nudged her toe with his boot, just resting it there.

She smiled, reached down to scratch Moke's ears. Lord, that puppy was soft, cuddly, reminded her of the morning she woke up in Josh's bed, little head popping up over the edge of the mattress, tongue lolling, whining to go out.

Clearing his throat, Jeffy got her to look up by poking her side. "The first two days are travel days, no dates. If there's anything you need we can ship it to you, okay?"

"How many times has she done this? Come on, Jeffy. Lighten up."

Now that was some serious alpha male shit passing there, Josh giving Jeffy a look and Jeffy scowling back at him.

Interesting. Pointless, but interesting.

"I promise to be a very good singer and not make Josh cry for at least the first thirty six hours, Jeffy."

"Or beat you." Now she was the one getting the look from those grey eyes, but it had glint in that was purely dangerous. And sexy.

Hellacious sexy.

"I only give a twenty-four hour promise on the beatings, JC." Man, her shirt better not be too tight.

"Be good, baby." Oh, man. Jeffy sounded desperate.

Josh shifted in his seat, and okay, maybe he needed looser jeans too. Because that was pretty obvious. He just grinned at her, the sunglasses on permanent tilt so she could see his eyes. "Maybe we should stop at McDonald's, Vic. I'm feeling munchy."

She couldn't help the chuckle. "Two sausage biscuits, but you'll leave one half of one biscuit, a hashbrown and a large cup of coffee?"

Lord, some things never changed.

"I'll feed the other half to Moke. You want anything for Chachi?" At his name, her little baby growled and thumped against the side of his carrier up in the front seat, making Jeffy scowl and Josh laugh.

"He likes egg McMuffins." The happy little yips started up, Chachi just bouncing. Mokey's ears went up and her deep 'gee, I'm a big dog' voice filled the car, sending Chachi into hysterics.

"Everybody shut the Hell up!" Vic had a voice like a foghorn when he wanted to, rough as a cob and loud enough to echo. Moke and Chachi went quiet right away. "We're going to the bus. We'll have your McDonald's order delivered while you get everything checked and strapped in."

"You," Vic stabbed a finger at Jeffy. "Stop getting all pissy. Josh, stop pushing, and you," Vic growled at her, "stop egging everyone on. You're making my head hurt."

Good Morning from BA and her dogs!

It's suddenly and unexpectedly cold in my little corner of Texas, so I'm curled up with the dogs and a pot of coffee and thinking seriously about breaking out the Irish whiskey from the freezer.

I have four pups: Gomer, Fog, Leadfoot, and Rudolph. Gomer is a cocker spaniel mix with more enthusiasm than brains. I found him in a pasture about six years ago while I was hunting a good spot to dip my hook (fishing, now... get your minds out of the gutter). He was a wee pup and I imagine his momma got picked up by some coyotes. He was so glad to see somebody and has been biting my ankles ever since.

Fog and Leadfoot are pit bulls mixes from the same litter. I found a man in a parking lot trying to sell these sweet babies as fighting dogs. I threatened to call the cops, he threatened to drown the puppies. I went home with more dogs. Fog is sweet and easy-going, one ear flops down, one ear sticks straight up. She loves the world (and biscuits and bacon and sleeping and tummy scritches and swimming in the lake...)

Leadfoot? Oh, lord... He is. Well. Uh. Not easy-going.

Nope.

Not.

Leadfoot is my dog that was born on a mission. He doesn't know what that mission *is*, understand, but whatever it is, Lead's *on* it.

Rudy appeared on Christmas day last year - I opened the front door and there he was. "Hey. Merry Christmas. Hi. I don't suppose you're the sap we've been hearing about on the street? If so? I'm one hell of a dog..." He's a mutt, probably about five years old. He's a little scraggly, a little curious. Only has one eye and he doesn't have a tail anymore, but his butt wags. About the size of a small moose...

*grins*

I'm sort of known for the dogs that appear throughout my stories - in All that Glitters, Chastity has Chachi, the pomeranian that's almost more of a diva than the Diva herself. And Josh? Well, he has Mokey, a Rottie pup. One of my favorite scenes to write in the novel was Josh frying up bacon and trying to figure out how little Chachi could bounce so high to try and steal a piece.

Tell me about the dogs in your life? Or, heck, I'm easy. How about the cats? Goldfish? Hamsters? Horses? Pet rocks? There's nothing I love more than learning about the animals that make our lives special.

One random poster will get a download of All that Glitters, so you can meet Josh and Chas and Mokey and Chachi.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Winner of Vanessa Hart's drawing

Thanks to everyone who commented on today's blog topic about weight loss. In a drawing of participants' names, I pulled Mel. So, Mel, congratulations! You're our winner. Because I'm out of town, it will be a few days before I can send you the download. Meanwhile, please e-mail me with your e-mail address. Thanks, Mel!

Nessie

Vanessa's Heavy Topic


Good morning, bloggers!

As you read this, I’m traveling down the road. We need to make 750 miles today, so I won’t have internet access until this evening. Meanwhile, I hope you’ll check in with your thoughts on today’s topic: Weight Loss.

What brought this up? I recently returned to Weight Watchers (I’m a Life Member on bad behavior!) to shed some pounds. I never had a weight problem until my mid-30s. Then I tried everything. Anyone remember the Cambridge Diet? How about Adkins (the original, where you had to test your urine daily to see if you were in ketosis)? I did the Stillman diet, the Grapefruit Diet, The Cabbage Soup Diet, Sugar Busters, South Beach, Slim-Fast (Not!), etc. but keep returning to Weight Watchers. Why? Because no food group is forbidden! I love that I can make allowances for a sinful chocolate sundae by using my extra POINTS.

I remind myself of my heroine, Caryn Cook, in A LOSING PROPOSITION, one of the four stories in RESOLUTIONS. She knew how to cook and eat healthfully but had emotional reasons for overeating. I heard from many readers who really liked that I wrote a romance featuring an overweight heroine.

I’ll draw tonight from the participants for one winner to receive a download of the story. And if you like it, you want to get the entire book to learn the fate of Caryn’s three best friends.

Here’s how to be eligible for the drawing: Share your experiences with weight loss programs. What worked, what was foolish and unhealthful, and -- most importantly -- why? What drives people to go on weight loss programs? What are your thoughts about the pressures on young people to stay pencil-thin? What are your diet philosophies?

I look forward to reading all of your stories when I arrive at my sister’s house tonight. So, dish!

Vanessa Hart

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Good morning! I'm H. E. McVay, also known as Heidi around LSB. My morning-after is literally that! My first book came out yesterday and wow, it was a rush to see it up! So much preperation and work has gone into the release and coupled with the fact that it was Mike who was kind enough to finagle the date so that it would be released on my birthday (Thanks Mike!) I'm feeling extremely grateful to the entire staff at LSB for their hard work.

I always have a difficult time deciding what to blog about, as I'm usually a homebody and except for making the occasional blunderous entry into my LJ, I don't generally interact with people for fear of being too *perky*. And that's putting it nicely.

My writing tends to be quite dark and (hopefully) erotic. And it astonishes me how many people expect me to be the same way. I tend to be exactly the opposite of that. I've been called so perking as to the point of being sickening. But in truth, I really do enjoy shocking people with the visceral nature of my writing. It's what never gets old, the expressions on their face when they realize WHAT I write. I *heart* shocking people.

In general updates of life at Casa del McVay, my husband has left for sea and I am alone for the time being. If you'll harken back to my last entry, I was in North Carolina visiting family. I returned home, got the hubby gone, and then left again. I'm now in Louisiana for three weeks visiting the other branch of the family.

On the writing front, Scion's Rebirth, the follow-up to Avatar's Awakening is finished. And I've begun on the as yet untiltled third book. It's an in-depth look at the dynamic between Jacob and Celeste that I've spent 2 books setting up. So I'd better make it good!

And without further ado, in celebration of the big release, I'm going to give an excerpt. This is without a doubt, my favorite scene in all of AA, or a snippet of it at any rate.

~Adam paced the length of the library. He’d been told he was free to wander, and had taken full advantage of it. The room was massive and the only place in the house he felt remotely safe. The bedroom he’d been shoved into had been relegated to a place to sleep, nothing more. His steps took him over the plush Oriental rug that dominated the room before he turned and headed back in the other direction.
The clearing of someone’s throat caught his ear. He whirled to find Jacob leaning on the door frame. The doctor stared at him, expression unreadable. “Come with me, Adam.”
He remained rooted where he was, confusion mingling with the shock of what he’d witnessed only minutes before. Elizabeth had been bested by the other Predator, only to confer with him for a few moments as he pinned her down on the ground outside. She’d not been pleased with the outcome, that much was certain, given the manner in which she’d stormed past him and into the house. Leon had gathered their weapons and followed at a more leisurely pace, grinning at Adam wolfishly when he passed. It had left him wondering what exactly the terms of their wager had been.
Jacob stepped aside to let Adam exit the library. The doctor remained uncharacteristically silent as he led Adam down the hallway towards the stairs.

Adam glanced to him, his nerves further set on edge. “Where are you taking me?”
“The guesthouse,” came the short reply.
“Why?”
“My Scion’s orders.” Jacob fell silent, not speaking until they were out of the house and across the courtyard to a small cottage set into the trees behind the main house. The details of the structure went unnoticed as Jacob unlocked the door and pushed it open.
Adam followed him inside, surprised when he Jacob turned and reached for his uninjured hand. He punched in a sequence of numbers into the cell phone he held in his free hand. The bracelet beeped, the light turning red. Jacob slid it off Adam’s wrist and slipped it into the pocket of his slacks. Jade eyes met Adam’s own for a moment before his spoke. “Elizabeth will be here in fifteen minutes.

I’m going back to the main house now. I won’t be locking the door behind me. After this moment, I am no longer responsible for your actions.”
Blue eyes flickered towards the open door. He opened his mouth to speak, Jacob’s meaning registering. The vampire was giving him a way out, a chance to run. Adam’s heart sped up. Jacob spoke again as he moved toward the door. “Do you understand me, Adam?”
Adam lifted his chin, then nodded. “Yes.”
Jacob gazed at him a moment longer before disappearing out the door, closing it softly behind him. Adam stared at the door, feet carrying him towards it automatically. He tested the knob and found that it gave easily. Jacob had not lied he was giving him a way out. Adam’s heart soared when he opened the door and stepped onto the wraparound porch, gazing at Jacob’s quickly retreating back.
His mind spun with the possibilities. Jacob was loyal to his Scion to a fault, yet here he’d presented Adam with the perfect opportunity. Adam’s brow knitted together in a frown. But why? Don’t ask why. Don’t stop, you idiot. You have a fifteen-minute head start. Run. But his body didn’t want to cooperate with his mind’s warnings.
* * * *
Elizabeth stood in the darkened bedroom, staring out the window at the form hovering on the porch of the guesthouse. Why did he hesitate? Jacob had followed her instructions to the letter. She heard the back door close, signaling his return to the main house. Still, Adam Montrose did not step off the porch of the guesthouse. Jade eyes narrowed. It was his only way out. If Jacob ‘neglected’ to lock the door, and Elizabeth were a few minutes late to the cottage, he would have ample time to make his escape. Why wasn’t he moving?

He should be halfway to his car by now, the keys had been placed on the hook next to the front door in plain sight. She’d done everything for him but guide him out the front gate and wave.
“Why isn’t he gone?” The words were softly spoken, accompanied by a marked frown. “Why do you hesitate, you foolish man?”
He turned and headed back into the house. Good, he was retrieving his car keys. He would be gone. Instead of reappearing, the door closed behind him. Her eyes widened when she realized what he’d just done. She sank into the chair beside the window and buried her face in her hands.
Her entire frame began shaking as something inside her welled up. It was a foreign feeling, something she couldn’t readily identify. Something warm and wet slid down her face. Startled, she pulled her hand away to stare at the dampness on her fingertips. “Why am I crying? I don’t even feel sad.”
And yet, her chest constricted painfully, as if she were being dealt a death blow. The hollowness inside her bubbled forth until a strangled sob burst its way from her throat. The floodgates were opened. She slid from the chair and onto the floor, curling her knees tightly to her chest. Silent sobs wracked her entire body as she folded her arms around her legs and buried her face into her knees. For the first time in more than five thousand years, the killer cried.~

Morning After ~ Evangeline Anderson & H.E. McVay




Dirty Girl

by Evangeline Anderson

&

Avatar's Awakening

by H.E. McVay

Monday, March 20, 2006

Getting to Know You

Sometimes I wish life were as simple as the media portray it. If they were right, then women everywhere and without exception would want chocolate and jewelry for Valentine's Day, wool or a desk set for the eighth anniversary, and silky lingerie every day of the year.

But life isn't that simple. Any man who gives me chocolate (I'm a butterscotch kind of woman) or jewelry (I'm a seeds-for-the-garden kind of woman) will get a swift kick out of my life for being unwilling to take the time to learn what I really want.

Life gets even more complicated when we consider more important matters than chocolate and jewelry (or butterscotch and seeds). The amorphous "they" tell us we should want something, and yet, deep down inside where we may even be afraid to look, we want something completely different.

Some of what they tell me I should want are things I know they're right about – starting with regular exercise and the recommended five fruits and vegetables a day – so I'm willing to try to want them. I'm even making progress, if you accept my theory that sugar, which comes from a plant, is a vegetable, or at least a fruit.

Other things, though, I'm just never going to want, and I don't even try to rationalize my disinterest. For me, marriage is one of those major goals I've always been told I should want, but I just don't feel it. Companionship, sure. Sex, of course. Love and happy-ever-after, definitely. But marriage? Um, no.

Same with sexual attraction. It doesn't matter if everyone tells us we should want some man who's perfect in their eyes -- he's so nice and successful and good-looking -- if we don't actually feel the attraction.

We want what we want, even when it's not what we're supposed to want. I've resisted this fact for decades, and I continue to be fascinated by the way people struggle to reach a compromise between what they should want and what they stubbornly insist on actually wanting. As an author, I can experience the subject from a variety of viewpoints, tossing my characters into assorted situations and helping them resolve their shoulds with their actual wants.

So, what about you? I'd love to hear some examples of what you feel you should want, but really couldn't care less about.

Sunday, March 19, 2006


Book Cover Posted by Picasa

What kind of heroes make you shiver?

When I wrote The Pilot and the Pinup, I wanted my hero to be independent and his own person. I made Peter Kane a day-trader whose passion is flying. My DH is a private pilot and also works on planes all day(he restores Warbirds - specifically P-51 wings) , so this character was very easy to write and the research was as close as a nudge away.

Growing up Native Americans were all the rage, then Pirates were popular. Personally I've always liked Books set in Scotland. Recently I've become a fan of Vicki Lewis Thompson's Nerd Series. I've seen a lot of books where the heroes are Firemen. Now that's hot. So what kind of heroes get you hot? A pirate, a cowboy, a stock broker, a fireman, maybe a man from the future? Is it getting hot in here! Now the harder question - Why? What is it about that hero that makes you pick up the book. I'll be giving away a copy of the Pilot and the Pinup (or another LSB book of your choice!) to the most creative answer.

Tina Holland

Saturday, March 18, 2006

How To Stay Young...



1. Throw out nonessential numbers.
This includes age, weight, and height.
Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay them.

2. Keep only cheerful friends.
The grouches pull you down.
(Keep this in mind if you are one of those grouches!)

3. Keep learning:
Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever.
Never let the brain get idle.
"An idle mind is the devil's workshop."
And the devil's name is Alzheimer's!

4. Enjoy the simple things

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.
And if you have a friend who makes you laugh, spend lots and lots of
time with her!

6. The tears happen:
Endure, grieve, and move on.
The only person who is with us our entire life, is ourself.
LIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love:
Whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever.

Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health:
If it is good, preserve it.
If it is unstable, improve it.
If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don't take guilt trips.
Take a trip to the mall, even to a foreign country, but NOT to where
the guilt is

10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.


What do you do to stay young?

Friday, March 17, 2006

BOND..the name should mean action, adventure, and yes, SEX

Post by Lisa Renee Jones
Visit me at Lisareneejones.com

WINNER OF FREE BOOK not picked til about midnight because I am going to the movies so post away!

Winner of my drawing!

Emma Sinclair is my winner!
Email me at Lisarenjones@aol.com for your download!

Thanks for chatting with me! Craig didn't do so well with us LSB blogggers..lets hope he surprises us and we like him! But I will have to wait for the video to find out!




I have to admit I was never a Pierce Bronson fan as BOND though my mother who turned 63 today turns into a teenager again when she sees him. Hearing his departure from the role all kinds of sexy actos game to mind for the role. I thought YES! 007 will become interesting again. I will WANT to see the next movie...

Then they made the announcement... DANIEL CRAIG?!!!! What the -?
I am so disappointed. I will not go to see that movie.

What about you? Vote for
CRAIG YES CRAIG NO..

Everyone who votes goes into a drawing for one of my downloads!
OH..what LSB books do I have for sales.

GOING TOO FAST, DANGEROUS ATTRACTION, TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT, GUILTY LITTLE SECRETS, MAN MADE DELIGHTS


Here is the press release....

Daniel Craig is Officially James Bond!
Source: Columbia Pictures, MGM October 14, 2005



It was announced today by producers Michael G. Wilson and Barbara Broccoli, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Inc. and Sony Pictures Entertainment, that Daniel Craig has been cast in the role of the legendary British secret agent, James Bond, in the highly anticipated 007 adventure thriller Casino Royale.

Casino Royale reunites Wilson and Broccoli with Martin Campbell, who directed the 1995 Bond blockbuster GoldenEye. His most recent film, The Legend of Zorro, will be released on October 28, 2005.

Casino Royale will be the 21st James Bond film produced by the franchise holders, EON Productions. The MGM/Columbia Pictures production begins shooting in January and is due for release worldwide on November 17, 2006. It will be filmed in the Czech Republic, the Bahamas, Italy and the UK.

Neal Purvis and Robert Wade wrote the screenplay based on famed author Ian Fleming's first novel. The script is currently being polished by Academy Award®-nominated writer, Paul Haggis (Million Dollar Baby).

Born in 1968, Daniel Craig was raised on the Wirral nr. Liverpool. He moved to London to join the National Youth Theatre at the age 17 and continued his training at the London Guildhall School of Music and Drama. Craig has since become regarded as one of Britain's finest actors securing a variety of roles in television, theatre and film.

He is currently filming a thriller alongside Nicole Kidman, The Visiting, and has two films in post-production; Steven Spielberg's Munich and Douglas McGrath's Every Word Is True, co-starring Sandra Bullock and Gwyneth Paltrow.

Recent film credits include Sam Mendes' The Road to Perdition, The Mother, Sylvia, and last year he received much critical acclaim for Matthew Vaughn's Layer Cake as well as Roger Michell's Enduring Love.

Wilson and Broccoli said "It has been a long time ambition for us to film the first book in the series, 'Casino Royale', which defined the complex character of James Bond. We are thrilled Daniel Craig will play the character of 007. Daniel is a superb actor who has all the qualities needed to bring a contemporary edge to the role. 'Casino Royale' will have all the action, suspense and espionage that our audiences have come to expect from us but nevertheless takes the franchise in a new and exciting direction."

"James Bond is a character without peer in motion picture history," said Pascal. "He is a household name recognized in virtually every corner of the globe and because of this renown, the casting of the new 007 takes on a special importance. We believe that in Daniel Craig we have found the ideal 21st century Bond and we couldn't be more privileged to be working with Barbara and Michael, who are tireless champions and guardians of the James Bond legacy."

Director Martin Campbell said, "The thing about James Bond is that each actor who has filled the role has brought his own style and imprint. With Daniel as our new Bond, I am thrilled to be returning to shepherd the new 007 in the new Bond adventure."

Dan Taylor, President of Metro Goldwyn Mayer Inc, said: "All of us here at MGM are delighted that Daniel Craig, an actor of such high-calibre, has been chosen to be the next Bond. We are also very excited to be working closely with Barbara and Michael again and with Columbia Pictures on 'Casino Royale', which we predict to be the biggest, best Bond ever."

Thursday, March 16, 2006

Time for a Little Spring Cleaning...


Does the thought of spring-cleaning send you into a cold sweat and sprout hives on your skin? You’re not alone. I mean, do I really want to know what lives in the dark corners of my kitchen cupboards? I’m hoping I’ll never find out. Usually it takes a house sale and impending move to get me to go that deep. But when the weather’s nice, I do start thinking about fresh paint jobs and washing the windows. Maybe it’d be nice to see the crystal clear sun shining through, for a change, instead of a dim haze. This impulse tends to pass very quickly. All I need to do is stay on the couch and wait. Or, better yet, start tearing apart a room, then stop, leaving it in a worse state then when I started.

But you know, there could be some sexual benefits to spring-cleaning. I hadn’t really thought about it that way before, but I’m sure it’s bound to boost hubby’s libido to come into a bedroom that has freshly laundered sheets and an obvious lack of laundry stacks. Or maybe the smell of dirty socks turns him on? No, that was an ex-boyfriend…not going to go there. Truly it’s my libido that would get the boost…as long as I’m not the one who slaved all day getting the room into ship shape. And maybe while cleaning, I’ll find the sexy negligee I wore eons ago or maybe an interesting gadget or two hidden in a dresser drawer…not going there either.

Mostly, though, it’s just the mental spring-cleaning that I need. That boost that comes from extra hours of sunlight and warm breezes and buds on the trees. Around here, that also means pollen and bugs, but hey, can’t have everything, right? Spring means conferences coming up, which always makes me write faster. Nothing like impending editor pitches to put me to work. And I get in health-mode, so I exercise more and plant a garden. The garden always fries by mid-summer, but it’s great having fresh herbs for a month or two, which means I might also cook something. Another rarity.

So to help with spring cleaning, the March issue of Shara’s E Zone has some books and web sites to check out. Go to my News Page at www.sharalanel.com to learn how to subscribe, which reminds me—are you participating in the Silver Shamrock Invitational? Make sure you get in the game before March 19th, St. Silver’s Day.

Feel free to let me know your thoughts on spring cleaning or if you have any pressing questions you’d like to ask me, fire away!

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Trust

First off, MARCH MADNESS is COMING!!!!!!!

Yeah baby, YEAHHHHHH

Sorry. Yes, I am a basketball fan. And have you noticed how HOT some of those players are? Yes, I’m robbing the cradle in my dreams, but OH what sweet dreams they are!
There’s something about a man who can hold a basketball in one hand that just gets to me.

*wiping chin* where was I?

Oh yeah, my blog topic for the day *blush*

Last month, Bonnie Dee posted an Interview with a Submissive. Fascinating and thought-provoking stuff. The replies ranged from “not for me” to “what a cool topic”. I have to say I was on the “Cool Topic” end of the spectrum, especially since I was and still am immersed in writing my first Dom/sub story and very concerned about getting it right.

Trust is a very (very) necessary part of a D/s relationship and I think it’s the trust aspect that fascinates me most, since I’m such an untrusting little soul *blush*. So I have to ask, have you ever trusted someone enough to share your most secret and deepest fantasies with, to tie you up and ahem, tie you down?

And since I have you here, what do you like or dislike about BDSM stories?

Seasons Contest Winner

Winner of a download of Seasons of Love is Little Lamb Lost. Contact me and let me know what format you'd like it in.

From the responses it looks like fall and spring run neck and neck as a favored season. Summer lags behind and winter trails them all. Good on you, Cathy, for sticking up for poor, maligned and neglected winter.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Seasons of Love



For the release of my anthology, Seasons of Love, you can win not one, but TWELVE hot men! Answer a question from each of the four excerpts of Seasons of Love to enter a drawing for a 2006 calendar of hot hunks; your choice at http://www.calendars.com

Type in ‘Male Models’ and you’ll come up with firemen, cowboys, Chippendales, guys next door and cover boys. All specimens of chiseled perfection! Story excerpts containing the answers are at my web site http://bonniedee.com on the Seasons of Love page.

Here’s the list of questions (click on individual story title AT MY WEB SITE NOT HERE for excerpt):
Maypole Dance: What is the clearing in the woods carpeted with?
Amish Paradise: What color are Joe’s eyes?
Crisp Apples: What kind of tree is outside Kate’s shop window?
A Lily for Christmas: How did Lily’s dad die?

Email your answers to bondav40@yahoo.com to be entered in the drawing. I’ll choose a winner next Friday, March 17, giving everyone plenty of time.

For the blog today, I’ve decided not to post excerpts, but PLEASE go to my web site and read them. This book is the child of my heart, my favorite baby and I want everyone to enjoy it as much as I’ve loved writing it. Seriously, it’s some of the best work I’ve done.

Instead of excerpts, I’m posing a question. What’s your favorite season? Tell me your favorite season and why you love it. Winner of a download of Seasons of Love will be chosen from among all who respond here today.

Is there anything sweeter than the fresh, unfurling green shoots of spring, harbingers of new life and hope? Experience the wonder of a primal sexual experience with the young virgin in “Maypole Dance.”

Do you prefer summer sun seeping into your pores, setting you aglow? Salty, sweaty summertime sex is only a small portion of what the culture-crossed lovers in “Amish Paradise” experience together.

My personal favorite is the mingled energy and melancholy of fall. “Crisp Apples” evokes the tang of wood smoke, a sharp breeze and harsh blue sky of an autumn day. The heroine learns to let past hurts blow away and turns her face toward the future.

Winter is quiet and reserved, contemplative and austere as a monk. The world appears dead but is merely gathering forces for a new burst of life in spring. In “A Lily for Christmas” a woman brings that renewed life to a battle-scarred soldier.

Thanks for your time and attention, gang.

Danielle Devon - Forsaken blurb

There are those who feed from the blood of others, and there are those who watch... Existing somewhere between the darkness and the light, the Seralin are the keepers of this ancient secret.

Though a Seralin by birth, Calli Demour has grown up a mistrusted orphan within the order. An outcast among the watchers and the vampires she observes, she has never fit in anywhere. Beneath the shadows of an unseen world, Calli searches for her heart’s desire--a connection to the vampire. Her search will lead her down a dark path of deception and desire where she will find that some secrets can never be kept.

For more information visit http://www.danielledevon.com

Morning After ~ Bonnie Dee & Danielle Devon



Forsaken
by Danielle Devon

&

Seasons of Love
by Bonnie Dee

Monday, March 13, 2006

And the winners are...

Wow... so many great answers, I had to do a random, eyes-closed selection process for all the winners!

Thank you all for participating and sharing your thoughts with me!!

Here are the winners:

Victoria's Secret GC -- R. Marie

Simon's Wicked Web Copies -- 1) Shara; 2) Rae Morgan and 3) Cherie.

Email me privately so we can coordinate your prizes!! (avamcknight@yahoo.com)

Don't forget, I have a contest running on my blog site for a free $50 Victoria's Secret gift card and a free copy of Simon's Wicked Web! (www.calistafox.blogspot.com)

Thanks again for a fun day!!

Ava McKnight (aka Calista Fox)

Too much fun...

Okay, this blog is just too much fun! I'm really enjoying reading your responses to my questions. Sooo, I want to share with you another opportunity to win a Victoria's Secret gift card (worth $50 this time!) and more free copies of my LSB release, Simon's Wicked Web. I just created a new blog and to launch it, I'm holding a contest called, "We'll always have Paris."

Log onto www.calistfox.blogspot.com to enter to win!!

Have a great day!

Ava (aka Calista Fox)
www.calistafox.com

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Morning, Noon and Night...

I find it interesting that my ideal of the perfect sexual experience has changed dramatically over the years. In my early twenties, I was into the whole seduce-me-with-a-lobster-and-champagne-dinner scene. I wanted romance, in the most flowery, soap opera-type way. I wanted to be swept up in the arms of a hunk and carried off to a rose pedal-covered bed.

In my late twenties, I discovered the erotic glory of the “quickie.” Wow. Who knew being hauled up against the hard chest of a hunky man, kissed hard and demanding, then bent over a sofa could be so… well, exciting?

Now in my thirties, I find the most unexpected things turn me on. Flowers and a romantic dinner. Snuggling in front of a fire with a good bottle of wine. Driving fast, skydiving, riding a roller coaster… yeah, all these things get my blood pumping.

I no longer have sexual stigmas. I have no problem with making love morning, noon or night. In fact, I believe whenever the mood strikes is the time for love…

So… my questions for you are: 1) what puts you in the mood? And 2) are you more or less inhibited now than you were in your earlier (aka glory) days?

I look forward to hearing from you. Oh, and here’s a little incentive to put some thought into your answers.

First… the most creative response will receive a $25 Victoria’s Secret Gift Card and a free download of my latest LSB release, Simon’s Wicked Web.

Second… I’ll pick 3 random blog answers to win a free download of Simon’s Wicked Web.

Okay… blog!

Ava (loving the SEX blog!)

It's not the size of the boat...

but the motion of the ocean.

Yes, my very first SEx post is going to be about pleasure stick size.

But first, let me introduce myself. I'm Emma Sinclair. My first Liquid Silver release will be Tempting Fate, a light paranormal about Chloe Moriae, one of the Fates. I don't have a release date yet.

So, back to the cock size...

I admit that I'm a bit childish and I tend to end arguments/disagreements with random insults that no one has a response to.

Example:

DH: You spilled something on the floor and didn't clean it up.
Me: Yeah, well you stink. (He doesn't by the way)

Like I said, childish, but it usually ends arguments and gets a laugh. But the other day I, apparently, made a mistake.

DH: You did something stupid.
Me: Yeah, well, you have a small wang. (Again, he doesn't)

This didn't get the laugh that I was going for. Instead I was told, in no uncertain terms, Don't Make Fun Or Penises.

This made me giggle which lead to even more problems because I was apparently being insensitive to hard-ons (oh, the horror).

Now, here's my reasoning for why my response was fine.

If you call a fat person fat, well, that's just mean. But if you call a skinny person fat, it's stupid, I admit, but pseudo-funny in an ironic kind of way.

Sooo, it stands to reason that if a person has a small Johnson and you tell them that, it's mean, but if they don't then you get that pseudo-funny ironic stupidness.

Right?

Am I crazy? Well, obviously, but has anyone ever heard the No Making Fun of Penises directive?

Was I totally out of line (just FYI - I am not completely insensitive and have gone back to my standard 'you stink' rather than open this can of worms again).

So, what is this bizarre connection that men have with their Rods of Redemption? And special thanks to Beth Williamson's post for all the fun penis names!

Do you have fun stories about the Purple Headed Soldier of Love? Please share! And of course, lets discuss the age old question - does size really matter?

Emma Sinclair
Website | Blog

And just because I don't want to leave you without any eye candy...

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