Manic Monday

I had a picture to post, but Blogger has decided it doesn't like it. Maybe I'll post it later on today.

Do you ever wake up in the middle of the night and think about the oddest things? lol. I did this morning. Woke up around three o'clock and got to wondering about stuff. When I go to bed, I make sure that at the very least my feet are covered. I hate having my feet exposed. That's also why I never leave them hanging over the edge of the mattress. My hands either. Because you know that weird creature that sleeps under the bed might decide to grab them at any time. lol. Definitely something I started doing when I was younger and more impressionable. :) Just haven't gotten over that.

Are there any weird quirks you have? It doesn't have to be just when you head to bed. And also, keep reading. The post before this is about SEx moving. Tina gives you all the good news.

Tiffany

Conferences, conferences, conferences…

So, by the time this is posted I’ll be on a plane heading back to Oklahoma after spending the last five days in Atlanta at the Romance Writers of America conference. This conference, unlike RT, always energizes me when it comes to writing…we’re here to talk about craft, hook up face time with editors, agents and other authors and generally get the writing juices flowing (no comments from the peanut gallery, please *G*). RT is great at its purpose, getting authors out there to meet and greet, but at the end of it I’m always exhausted (must be all that partying *g*).

On Thursday I hosted the National Readers’ Choice Awards, which pubbed authors keep telling me is one of the “it” contests to final and win in. Since my chapter hosts it, we’re kinda insulated from the whole concept…it’s just our baby, y’know? Anyway, I got to meet a great new friend, Jill Shalvis, and take a pic with her…it was very cool. I also got to hang out with my incredible critique partners and fellow LSBers JB Skully/Jasmine Haynes and Leigh Wyndfield *and* meet up with Katie Bryan, an online friend who I’d never met in person.

And, since I’m a sinful smoker *g*, I ended up poolside (the hotel doesn’t allow smoking inside) with the biggies like Nora Roberts and Vicki Hinze.

All in all, it was a great conference. Tell me about your conference experiences (even those not writing related) and I’ll pick one winner for any book from my backlist.

Keira

Sex Over 40

Trying to decide what I had to offer on this subject, I typed those words into the search engine and came up with numerous videos and books designed to help spice up sex for the over-40 crowd. Turns out there’s also a movie by that title from 1994. But most interesting was an article about an April 2006 study, excerpts of which are posted below:
“NEW YORK - About three-fourths of middle-aged and older women are sexually active and two-thirds of them are at least somewhat satisfied, according to a new study.
Dr. Ilana B. Addis of the University of Arizona in Tucson and colleagues also found in their survey of just over 2,000 women aged 40 to 69 that better mental health was associated with more sexual satisfaction.
Seventy-one percent of the women reported having sex in the past year, while 37 percent had sex monthly or less often and 33 percent had sex weekly or more frequently. One-third of sexually active women reported having some type of sexual dysfunction, including lack of interest in sex, inability to relax and enjoy sex, or difficulty in becoming aroused or having an orgasm.”

There was more, but the gist of it seemed to be that a good sex life only adds to general well-being and good health. Well, duh, we knew that! There was also a little sex poll to take and not surprisingly, most women claimed their sex life was fine or better than ever.
So, how about you (if you’re over 40 or getting close to it), do you still have the same spark? Have reached a plateau? Or are you finding it true that a woman hits her sexual peak much later then men do?

If you’d rather not talk about your personal sex life, how about books? Do you like to read a good older woman/younger man story and think, like I do, that there’s not enough of them out there?

Here are a couple of older/younger reads from Liquid Silver authors. Blaise Kilgallen's Wild Knights and At the Mercy of Her Pleasure by Kayelle Allen.

Winner and one last pic.

Hey there...meant to post this a little earlier, but got caught up in a movie. :) The winner is Snowflake. Email me at chase.ta @ gmail . com (w/o spaces) and let me know which LSB book you'd like.

Thanks to everyone who stopped by and checked out my eye candy. :)

T.A.

No Boundaries

How about an afternoon nap?

Here you go. I think he's ready. There's flowers and candy along with him. :)

Have a good nap. :)

Well...

whew! I had a bugger of a time getting this pic up here. Boy, you wouldn't think this guy would complain about having a bunch of people come check him out...lol.

I bet I can get Jenna to lick her monitor with this guy. :) Great advertising for Calvin Klein, huh?

Enjoy the morning eye candy. I'll be back a little later to post another one. I don't have any burning questions to ask or anything. So just by saying hi, you get entered in a contest to win your choice of any LSB book. (It doesn't even have to be mine..lol)

Hope you're having a good morning.

T.A.

No Boundaries

You're the Winner...

Cherie Japp, you're the winner of a download copy of Enlightened Love. Please email me at sharalanel @ comcast.net (w/o spaces) so that I can send you the file. I hope you enjoy it!

Don't forget to visit my web site (www.sharalanel.com)to find the details of my All About SEX Contest--easy to enter--and everything you need to know about sex but didn't want to ask.

Had fun! Catcha next month!

Shara

Rockin' Rick

I thought I was going to be late posting this blog this morning, but then I woke up at 5 a.m. with the disequilibrium that comes from drinking too much. Not a hangover exactly, but a feeling of needing to be vertical rather than horizontal. Know what I mean? If not, you can experiment by drinking 2 ½ tequila sunrises followed by 2 beers. To get the full effect, you need to go to a Rick Springfield concert at an outdoor venue. Which brings me to what I actually planned to blog about: my teen idol

The man still looks damn good at 56. When I saw those muscles last night glistening with sweat. Yum! And may I say, much better than he ever looked in the early 70s. His web site has some primo videos from when he first went solo and when he was in Zoot. What in the world was he wearing in the Hooky Jo video? My friend, who wishes to be called Di in an attempt to remain incognito (I have pictures), says that outfit’s just typical 70s. Eek! And we’re bringing that fashion back again?

I digress. Where was I? Watching the sun come up, actually. Now, if you’re a General Hospital fan, you may know Rick as Dr. Noah Drake. He’s currently reprising his role from the 70s. I know Mom watched the whole Luke and Laura thing, but my fave TV shows from that decade were Mickey Mouse Club and Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys. Here’s an NPR article on Rick's recent return to GH.

Rick was also on Battlestar Gallactica, another show that I apparently missed. My friend Tracy gave me a DVD of Nick Knight, and while Googling for images I discovered he was in a series called Human Target. Anyone ever catch that one? Last night, Rick asked the audience, how many of us had seen his naked butt, and apparently quite a few of us had. Yes, that teeny bopper movie Hard to Hold solidified my love for Rick, and damn, I need to add that DVD to my Christmas list. For another view of Rick’s naked butt, I found this web site on Zoot. Scroll down. Too bad the image is so fuzzy!

The concert was awesome, of course. It was Di’s (not her real name) 1st time and she seemed duly impressed, but is now planning to drag me to a Bob Dylan concert—I won’t go and you can’t make me! *g* No, actually she’s in love with Paul McCartney, who is in fact OLDER than Rick, but yes, he’s aging well. However, he was in an article for AARP Magazine!.

I saw Rick two years ago, same venue, for his Karma tour. In fact that tour tee is the one my husband managed to turn green when washing in the laundry. He’s since been forbidden to wash any of my clothes. It’s only a faint green, but still! And I love that album. I’ve been listening to shock/denial/anger/acceptance for the past two days. A lot of anger in that one, but some excellent music. And something else for my Christmas list, his latest cd is The Day After Yesterday, an album of cover songs.

So tell me any secrets you know about Rick Springfield—like TV shows I’ve missed, movies too—and if you have a Zoot album you’re willing to sell me, let me know. Now, if Rick just isn’t your thing, feel free to mention any teen idols that you’re still in love with. And I’ll pick one poster (ie. person who posts comments) to win a download of my first book, Enlightened Love.

Shara
www.sharalanel.com

Spirit of Morning

A Good Morning after!

Hello and welcome to my morning after blogspot. I'm pleased and proud to present my second novel for Liquid Silver, Mr. Grey and the Spirit from the Sky.

This is the second Mr. Grey book to be released, and revisits the life of Martin Grey and Claudia Mackenzie. In The Hotel Ghosts they were brought together by fate to investigate a haunted hotel, and in the course of their adventure they became friends, lovers and soul-mates.

In Spirit from the Sky, they investigate the mysterious goings-on that trouble a leisure resort in the Catskill Mountains. Between the naughty antics of the resort's staff, ghostly gangsters out for revenge, and an undercover US Treasury investigation, life gets very interesting for the spook hunters, who are still trying to adjust to their new relationship.

This was fun to write, and I hope it's fun to read! Martin and Claudia are two of my favorite people. As to the resort, it's fictitious, but after an early career in a similar place, I have a fund of bizarre real life incidents filed away in my mind. Some of those I depict in Spirit from the Sky. It's up to the readers to figure which ones are real...

A J Matthews

Mr. Grey and the Spirit from the Sky.

And the first Mr. Grey, a spooky romance with a twist… Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts.

http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/books/mrgreyandthehotelghosts.htm

"An unusual and original plot, beautifully written with considerable skill and charm…"

Autiotalo for Enchanted Ramblings, awarded 6 Magical Wands!

Website:- http://ajaymatthews.com

Blogspot:- http://ajays-blog.blogspot.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Competition Winner! Maria, you get the prize of The Hotel Ghosts download! Your answer matches perfectly with one of the themes of Spirit from the Sky.

Please contact me on:- aj@ajay.matthews.com with your choice of format =)

The Day After--my release

Well it's the day after, what do you say, what do you do? Have a smoke, take a shower, and head to work. That’s about it. LOL. My latest release came out yesterday. The title of the HOT little novella is Driving Me Insane. Why this crazy title you ask? Because the novella nearly drove me insane writing it? Noooo. Because it’s centered around the much loved Stock Car Racing Circuit.

Yeppers, I love racing.

It’s my not-so-secret passion. In this story, I re-introduce Rick Monroe, who made a cameo appearance in The Winner’s Circle. He’s a little hot under the collar-- or should we say engine-- when he has repeated problems with his race car. The last snafu caused a major wreck during a key race. His mechanics think it might be a faulty fuel line causing the crashes.

In steps Warner Manufacturing, who prides its company reputation on sound products, selling primary to major racing circuit customers. The thought one of its parts might have caused a potential fatal crash is crippling to the company--they take immediate action. The owner of the company, Joseph Warren, sends in his best mechanic--well--and she happens to be his daughter.

What Rick Monroe doesn’t know is the mechanic Warner is sending is a female and none other than Angela Warren; someone Rick has been having an e-mail and telephone relationship with for over three years. Rick holds a deep crush for Angela and when they finally meet, well folks, let’s just say…sparks fly. Let’s see if these two can heat up the pages of this novella as much as Rick can heat up the track.

Hope you enjoy my latest Racing Romance, I know I loved writing it for you. I love to hear from my readers, so feel free and e-mail me at Rae@RaeMonet.com and please come by and visit my website at http://RaeMonet.com.

"There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier,
He went to Bourbonnais, (Il.) and did melt away..."

After a skirmish in 105 degrees of heat and 100% humidity it's no wonder I look less than the dashing Highlander of legend ;)

People haven't changed much in the course of two hundred years, but lifestyles and technology sure have. After two nights spent under canvas without air-con, my admiration for all those pioneers who went West without the trappings of our modern life increased dramatically!

My experience with the 78th Frazer's at the Meeting on the Theatiki re-enactment weekend did get me thinking of a plotline for a new Mr. Grey novel, set in the Highlands of Scotland in the 1740's.

Which brings me to my question:- Which era would you say is the most romantic? Would you - could you live in that time given the choice (and a healthy supply of modern medicine?) And what would you do with your life?

The most original answer gets a free download of my first book for Liquid Silver, Mr. Grey and the Hotel Ghosts - a spooky romance with a twist!

"An unusual and original plot, beautifully written with considerable charm and skill..."

Review by Autiotalo for Enchanted Ramblings. Awarded 6 Magical Wands!

A J Matthews

Out today! Mr. Grey and the Spirit from the Sky.

Website:- http://ajaymatthews.com

Blogspot:- http://ajays-blog.blogspot.com/

What's Age Got To Do With It?

A few days ago, Paige Burns had a birthday, one somewhere between 33 and 85. Oops. I mean, 35. *grin* She wrote in her blog here at SEX about whether she felt old, looked old and sounded old. Thankfully, her answers to those questions were all "No." (And let me tell you, folks, the older you get, the older "old" is! At 16, anyone over 30 was old, and over 40... well, you already had one foot in the grave, right? At 40-something, I don't start thinking of people being "old" until they've hit their 80s. My, how time changes our perspectives. LOL)

Now, me, my last birthday I celebrated the twentieth anniversary of my 23^rd birthday. And the last time I went to the Outback for dinner, the server carded me. Said I didn't even look like I was 35, and if a patron doesn't look at least 35 they have to show identification to order a drink.

Woo-hoo!

I can honestly say this is the best time of my life. I wouldn't want to be in my twenties again (hmm, college, low-paying jobs... no). Or even my thirties (better paying jobs but still not great). Now, in my forties, I have enough life experience under my belt from which to draw upon as I write. I have good friends--some who get me and like me anyway, and some who scratch their heads now and then, but are still there for me when I need them. I have good health, barring some stray aches and pains and hands that won't stop stuffing food into my mouth.

I'm finding, too, that I'm writing older heroes and heroines--in their 30s and even 40s. I don't know about anyone else, but I have a hard time relating to a hero who's 19 years old. I have four nephews who aren't that far removed from 19, so I remember what they were like at that age. Not hero material, in my opinion. And before anyone starts throwing spit wads at me (or something even more dangerous), I know we have a lot of 19 year olds over in Iraq and Afghanistan and other places around the world, putting their lives on the line every day, and sometimes losing their lives. I wish they could be home, still being kids, but they are performing their duty for their country. They are, I believe, the exception.

I want a hero who has some angst, who has enough sexual experience to know how to satisfy--and more--the heroine. A man who knows what he wants and goes after it, and finds the one woman who can satisfy--and more--him. (I'm speaking as the perpetually single white female, alas, but there you have it.)

What about you? What age do you like your heroes and heroines to be?

And because it just wouldn't be a post from me without some serious eye candy, here you go...


Aye carumba!


(Be sure to check out Kayelle's post below!)

Sherrill Quinn
Follow your passion to the edge... and beyond
Website | Blog | MySpace | Indulge Authors | Readers Group

Where do you want sex?

Do you mind if I use you for some research? I'd like to know your preferences about sexual positions that you read about in Romance novels. Notice I didn't ask about your personal positions. Although we'd never know if you told us, would we? *winks*

When you read a love scene in a book, do you prefer your characters;

in a bed?

up against the wall?

outdoors?

in a place where they could get caught?

What other places?

Sound off - and I'll send the download fairy your way with either of my current books plus a copy of my new short story, the Last Vhalgenn.

Of Vice And Men

I'm working on a story about a heroine who leaves the idyllic, isolated, single-gender commune where she was raised, and sets out to explore modern world and all its previously unknown temptations. Over the course of the book, she experiments with a number of the so-called vices as she seeks to understand her strengths and weaknesses. I'm betting you can guess which one turns out to be Her Favorite Vice (working title).

We all know the list: Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Envy, Sloth, Wrath and Pride. For my story, though, I did some research, and learned that lust (along with gluttony, another of my personal weaknesses) is generally considered one of the least objectionable vices. Plus, it's not, as some would have you believe, the simple feeling – the "I want him, and I want him now" urge – that qualifies as a vice; it's acting on that feeling to excess and to someone's harm.

The lore I particularly liked, but haven't (yet) found a way to include in my story, has to do with the demon associated with Lust: Asmodeus. He was hell-bent on keeping a particular woman virginal, and so he killed off her first several grooms before they had a chance to consummate the marriage. Eventually, though, a hero comes along and manages to survive the wedding night.

How, I want to know, is that a warning against lust? Asmodeus, the creature supposedly responsible for quashing or punishing lust, is a demon, folks, not an angel. And, sure, the first several grooms paid dearly for their lust, but in the end, the heroine finally gets to enjoy a little lust, and she – along with the final groom – lives happily ever after. The lesson I take from the story is that you just have to make sure you're lusting after the right man, and you might have to lust after a few of the wrong ones along the way.

Modern women don't need a demon to take care of the rejects, but it's always nice to have someone in our corner, watching our backs. Instead of a violent demon, we need a new, uninhibited and enlightened representative, one who reflects both the positive and negative aspects of lust.

If you were re-imagining Asmodeus in more modern terms, what would he (or she) be like?

Roxy's Floggin' Contest

Hi gang,

Can you tell I'm a big fan of flogging?

So, today's contest will be your best flog...
In 200 words or less, describe a flogging scene that:
a) you have experienced
b) you'd like to experience
c) best flogging scene you've read about

Winners to be picked by moi
Minimum word count 50 words!!
Maximum word count 200 words!

Deadline Midnight tonight ... Winner tba
by 11pm July22--at Roxy's Flog Blog

Winner from today's post will receive a Sacred Secret's e-book

So start those kinky brain engines!
Ready, set, go!
Submit through comments or email to: roxy@roxyharte.com
Good Luck!
Hugs
Roxy

- on behalf of Roxy Harte

Roxy's still having Blogger issues, so just call me her posting slave. Yes, Mistress! Please don't beat me, Mistress!

Roxy's Lil' Guide to BDSM Lingo:

BDSM: A version coined long ago to make almost everyone in the community happy. Basically, it can be broken down into sub-groups:

BD: Bondage and Discipline

D/s: Dominance and submission

***Dominant: someone who gains pleasure controlling and directing behavior, may or may not be sadistic

***Submissive: someone who gains pleasure being controlled and directed, may or may not be masochistic.

SM: a term used for sadomasochism and related activities or affiliations. The S standing for Sadist, the partner who gains pleasure causing pain. The M standing for Masochist, the partner who gains pleasure receiving pain.

***Top: the controlling or dominant partner in a D/s relationship. I find it interesting that it has become a very generic label, and more and more often am seeing themed references to this position of power as: Daddy, Mommy, Mistress, Master, Trainer, Dom and Domme. Each themed top then having very specific behavior attributes. A top may be a sadist or a dominant, separately, although one can be both.

***Bottom: the submissive partner in the D/s relationship, also very generic and more and more I am hearing the reference of little girl/boy, slave, pony, pet or baby, although this list could become endless and specific behaviors are again becoming very defined. A bottom is always the submissive partner; however, may or may not be masochistic.

Switch: the term most preferred for the person who easily and readily is able to switch between being a top or bottom, depending on need and/or desire.

Scene: predetermined amount of time, usually choreographed or at least discussed in detail prior to play involving SM activities. However, the word scene can also be used to describe the community as a whole.

Safe Words: A word or phrase agreed upon prior to start of play that is intended to stop play immediately should the bottom get uncomfortable enough to say it. If bottom is gagged, a safe word might not be a word at all, example a handkerchief could be held and dropping it stops play. A less extreme version of safe word would be the stop light system ie "yellow" slows play until either "red" stops play altogether or "green" allows play to reintensify. A generic safeword is "safeword!"

"What's BDSM?" posted on behalf of Roxy Harte

"What's BDSM?"

Yowzah! If I have one more friend ask me this question!

This is the first thing they say after learning that a) I write erotica and b) I write dark, highly emotional, edgy BDSM erotica. The aforementioned adjectives, they comprehend, it's just throwing in that string of alphabet letters that puts their world in a tailspin, especially when further explanation is pressed for..."You know, whips, chains, leather, pain."

Maybe I need a new answer to that question.

Maybe, some of you really wanted to ask, but were afraid to. Understandable. I remember buying my first real "kink" novel, Topping From Below. I wore my sunglasses to the checkout! No one will recognize me, right?

The teller didn't help matters by lifting his brow and snickering, "Nice." I ran to the car and hid the book when I got it home, reading it only when I was completely alone in the house. This was also my scared of my own shadow era. So, it didn't take much. My next BDSM book was purchased over the safe, anonymous internet, a how-to manual and community favorite: Screw The Roses, Send Me The Thorns. It's not hidden...not from anyone...so if I offend, who cares; if I educate, awesome!



Wow...I've come a long way, baby.

When I write about a BDSM relationship, I think the real story lies in the player's headspace. The relationship is all about what's going on in the psyche of both players, especially the emotional hotspots that can be triggered in the submissive's mind. In my personal opinion, that is the major role of the Dominant, to use his partner's emotional triggers to bring about sexual release, whether those triggers are based in childhood memories or adult fantasy.

Revealing fantasy to a partner is scary stuff, adding a layer of intimacy to the relationship that wasn't there prior. Think about it. Every reveal is a chance taken. Will he/she think this is too wierd? Will my partner no longer love me if I ask for...?

Imagine for a moment being brave enough to ask your partner, "Hey babe, after dinner can I flog you with a bouquet of stinging nettles?"

I seriously asked mine two nights ago, only half-way joking. I'm still testing the water with my partner*grins*.

He called me at midnight, "Baby, I just wanted to let you know, I'm rockhard thinking about what you asked me."

Total honesty and total trust are the elements that define the relationship. I am honest enough to say, "I want you to tie me up," and I trust you enough to let me. My heart swells with emotion just thinking about that.

A willingness to let go of control is even scarier and every bit as vital to the BDSM relationship as honesty and trust. I call it surrender and consider it the ultimate thrill-ride! I love "surrender" so much that I subtitled my series The Chronicles of Surrender.

As a bottom, my surrender includes trust, but really, it is so much more, it is a willingness to completely give over to the experience. I am not in control, allowing my Top to take me to sensory destinations never before fathomed; my inhibitions drop away, my morality isn't an issue, because I have given myself completely to him. I am forced to do all manner of nasty and get to enjoy it guilt-free. Oh my!

As a Dominant, my surrender includes the willingness to control the situation,to protect, and to embrace the power my submissive has granted me. I am allowed to surrender to that wonderfully demonic side of myself, controlling my lover with pleasure and pain. My lover has given me permission to push her buttons and I get to enjoy it! Hell yeah!

So back to the, "What is BDSM?" Question:

It is as varied as each individual is, mild play to full-on play. It could be the scent of leather while blindfolded and stroked with fur, rope bondage or handcuffs, spanking over the knee or flogging. BDSM can include groveling, public humiliation, forced masturbation. The list is endless; and as long as it includes safety and sanity, do it! And for it to work in my life, it absolutely must be consensual.

So, what secret fantasy are you keeping from your partner? Want to be tied up and tickled? or maybe something bolder? Unlock it, share it, and begin an entirely new level of relationship. I dare you!

To help you enjoy the reading of my book: Sacred Secrets, I will include a second post later today titled Roxy's Lil' Guide To BDSM Lingo, so stop back by!

Thanks!

Thanks everyone who posted well wishes for my birthday. Spent the whole day with the family and had dinner with my sister and friends at my house. All in all a pretty perfect day.

Myrtleme! You're the winner! Email me at paige.burns @ gmail.com for your prize!

Until next time, Keep Reading!

Paige

30 and 1/3 years ago today...

What? You don't believe me? What if I said 32, would that go over? Fine, somewhere between 33 and 35 years ago today I was born. Bet you didn't know it was such a momentus occasion did ya?

I remember when I was in high school, looking at my teachers and coaches and thinking, "Man, are they old!" They were in their 30's. So I sit here, 1am because me and Mr. B went to see Pirates and wonder, am I old? Do I feel old? Do I look old? Do I sound old?

*Am I old?

I'd have to say no on this one. At 16 everyone is old, plus teachers are authority figures, that always makes people old. So I'll wait till I hit the big 40 I'll address the question again.

*Do I feel old?


Yes and no. Yes, my body doesn't do the same things it did when I was in my 20's. My right knee aches and I don't know why. My back hurts although that's from sitting at the computer a lot. So far my vision and hearing are intact, although Mr. B would have to say something about my hearing...or maybe that's my listening. :) No, in that I'm happier and more knowledgable than I was then. I make better choices. A big NO for the sex drive as well. For those of you not yet 30, it's like a light switch goes on and your libido hits the nos button and kicks it into high gear. I swear on my pinky toe.

*Do I look old?

Again, I would have to say no, of course I don't look "old" but do I look my age? Not really. I'm blessed with my mother's genes and look a bit younger than my years. I always love to see what the kidlets (twenty-somethings I work with at Starbucks) have to say when they finally get the nerves to ask me how old I am. "How old you do think I am?" I say with an evil glint in my eyes. Either they are scared shitless and guess 26-28 or I do look younger than I am. What do you think? (mmuuuuuaaaahhhhh)

*Do I sound old?

Voice wise I'd say no, but damn if I understand what some of these 20iers say! For example...
"Holla" translates to What's up? or For Sure. or You know it. or a myriad ofther things as well. Really, the list is huge, you can check out some of the bomb ass shit here. (Seriously, what the hell is that!? LOL.) My music choices are pretty current, not quite yet old school, but I'm sure that's on the horizon.

My sister sent me a link for a website called RealAge. You answer questions and in the end, it caclulates your "real age". At first I was a little miffed, she's only 17 months younger than I am so she's not that far behind me in age blah blah blah. But you know what? I filled out the questionaire and ended up being 30 and 1/3 yrs old, so I'll take that.

You don't have to fill out the questionaire if you don't want, but you might be surprised at the results.

You tell me. What do you feel is your "Real Age" and why?

I'll be choosing a winner from today's post for a e-book from my backlist (which I'm working on making bigger! lol) and a hand crafted wooden bookmark from Costa Rica.

What Really Makes a Kick-Ass Heroine?

Okay...morning post was a little tidbit to whet your appetite for A Witch In Time. Now I've had a bit of a breather from the morning crazies (we got new furniture today - after ten years with Mr. Xandra, we finally have a Real Bed (TM) to sleep in--woo hoo!), I'd like to talk chewing bubblegum and kicking ass. Well, mostly the kicking ass part, since, as the saying goes, I'm all outta bubblegum.

What makes a kickass heroine? What made Buffy so appealing to so many people everywhere (and do you prefer the movie!Buffy or the series!Buffy - Whedon opinions notwithstanding)? Who here is a Xena fan? Who cheered out loud at a con when the news came through that Voyager's captain was going to be a woman?

I've thought about this (and had several discussions/idea trades/fandom_wanks over it) - what is it that makes a heroine kickass? And if she loses/sacrifices her femininity to do it, why? Does femininity=ability to be a dishrag? What does being a kickass heroine mean to the hero?

I have noticed a subtle, almost unconscious defensiveness...a shock and awe, if you will, among many men, and not a few women, when confronted with strong female characters, who are strong in the sense that male characters are usually strong. When you say "strong female character," people can think of a wide range of female roles going from Steel Magnolias strong women (emotionally stable, sensitively supportive, etc.) to Xena (can lift a Roman chariot and throw it at someone). But when confronted with the Xena end of the spectrum, there's invariably charges of she-maleness thrown about, and people's comfort zones get pushed.

Who's your favorite kick-ass heroine? And why is she kick-ass?

She Gets What She Wants, When She Wants It

Who's She, you're wondering, I'm sure. I would be, too, because I know it ain't me. I want rock-hard abs and full-time maid service. But I've spent the morning polishing furniture and you won't catch me dead in a bikini, so we see how that went.

I'm actually talking about my heroine, Lin, from "Hounded," my story in the Halloween '06 anthology A Witch In Time. Lin's a Lunar miner, charged by the moon goddess to fetch something the Lady has lost. Lin's no virgin, but she's the right (wo)man for the job. She knows what she wants, and she gets it.

Lin stood on the top of a float, wearing a nearly see-thru tunic, draped over a giant foam crescent moon. Her dark hair was tied up in ringlets on the top of her head and secured with a shiny silver band. She pasted a smile on her face and waved to the crowd. Ironic that it's me, of all people, up here impersonating Diana, she thought. I'm certainly no virgin goddess of the Moon, even if I do live there.

Music blared from the speaker poles placed at intervals along the street, behind a voice-over of a feminine voice extolling the historic occasion of LEO independence. The citizens of Cinco City, also known as LEO-Ring 5, for Low-Earth Orbit, danced along with the music, hugged each other, and snapped flash holographs of the floats.

The lights hurt her eyes, and the bitterness squeezed her heart. Once this parade reached the Cinco City spaceport, LEOs would be one step closer to true freedom from Earth, thanks to the massive solar array known as Helios. Yay for the LEOs, she thought. Too bad Earth still needed the Moon enough not to permit the same freedoms for the He-3 miners who lived and worked there. Forty percent of her paycheck, along with the payloads of Helium-3, would still find its way down into the Earth's treasure chests for the foreseeable future, while the LEOs suddenly found themselves with more money than they knew what to do with.

Don't think about politics--concentrate on the task at hand, she told herself. Find him. She scanned the crowd and waited for something--anything--to tug at her midsection and let her know she'd found the man she was looking for.

Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Her pendulum, its chain dangling from the end of her toy bow, swung quiescently, pushed by nothing more than the motion of the anti-grav platform on which the float rested. So far, the only thing the little chip of diamond had done was hide her little "condition" and its associated stigmas. She was supposed to have found her target by now, but so far all she found was that she rather enjoyed the idea that the crowd could see her naked body through her sheer tunic. She liked being watched.

The downside to this meant that the little thrill of warmth that zipped through her grew as the parade float made its way past more people. She leaned back on her foam-form crescent moon and thrust her breasts out, indulging in a little harmless exhibition for the crowd. The people lining the street seemed to appreciate it. Several men clapped and tossed gold glitter at the float. She smiled back and waved again, taking special care to wink at the dour-faced Doomsayer protesters holding up their little marquee signs scrolling LED-lit messages predicting Armageddon due to mankind's arrogance.

One of the protesters stumbled into the parade path. Flashing street lights began to rotate, and his compatriots yanked him back into the crowd just as the plexiglas barrier rose from a slot in the street surface. She scanned the crowd and saw that the protester's forward gaffe erupted from a disturbance behind him. A crowd of people wearing white coveralls with red braid--Cinco City's Finest--were pushing through the revelers, scanning with their little handhelds. One pointed forward and the group moved down the street, shoving at the dancing people in their way.

Rude, she thought, and turned to the crowds on the left. One of the "handmaidens" on the lower tier of the float flung a handful of Moon-cakes out into the crowd. Some people were actually stupid enough to reach for them. The Moon was famous for many things: its bright nocturnal gleam, its influence on Earth tides, its inspiration for insanity, its ore-mining. It was not known for its confectionery.

A young man with stag antlers strapped to his head waved and called out, "They'll rot your teeth!" He flashed his loincloth at the onlookers and Lin repressed a sigh. If only he weren't gay, she thought, eyeing the bulge underneath the scrap of synthetic doeskin. Ask him if he's bi, her voice of reason prodded. It's been over a week, and your little problem isn't going to wait.

The crowd cheered, she waved again and nocked a toy arrow, pretending to aim for the young buck. Too bad it was illegal to find a compatible man that way. It would be a lot less complicated than having to explain that yes, she did have an aggressive libido and no, it didn't make her a slut. She'd trade in the false promises to call afterwards for a little gentleness and creativity during. But she'd settle for finding someone who wouldn't automatically put her under quarantine.

Her little problem was growing again. She needed a man, and soon. Already, her focus strayed towards finding potential mates rather than her mission. If she let the situation go, it would only get worse. Small price to pay in exchange for health, though. The float wobbled and her attention went from the crowd to the float.

My prayers have been answered, she thought, looking down at the man crouched at her feet and staring up at her with the most liquid brown eyes she'd ever seen. "Come to get a blessing from the Moon goddess?" she asked.

Where he'd come from, she didn't know. But she knew where he'd be spending the night. She smiled and raised her leg, feeling a thrill as his eyes followed her motion, and his gaze drifted upward to what she exposed for his benefit. His hunter's cap rested crookedly on silky auburn hair that curled over his forehead and led to an aquiline nose, whose nostrils flared as if catching her scent. The blush creeping up his neck from the collar of his white shirt surprised her.

Very deliberately, she set her foot down right over his crotch and felt heat and hardness there. An answering flush of heat coiled between her legs. Without the confinement of underwear, she felt herself swell and open, sudden and immediate. I could do him right here, she realized. On this float, and with people watching. Spacedust, but that's a turn-on.

Estella! You're the winner!

And you get an English cucumber!

Oh, no...email me at darragha @ gmail.com (no spaces) with which LSB ebook title you'd like and in which format. Any ebook! Even one of mine! :)

Thanks for playing today!

Darragha

A 1940 Woodie (to go with Jerrod's woody)

This is Vesper's car (she has a Harley, too). This is the car of "cucumber sex" after "shopping cart sex" fame. :)

Darragha

Jerrod, Vesper and Mr. English Cuc

This is Vesper's happy face

This is Jerrod.

This is Mr. English Cucumber.

To snark or not to snark

Or perhaps we'll just talk about sex with vegetables today.

I have two things quite firmly on my mind. One, my mission to love snarkers and help them come into the light (www.snarked.com), and two, sex with English cucumbers. I wrote it into my current writing-in-progress. Just add a nice Italian vingarette and you'd have a salad. Or maybe an Italian with a piss and vinegar attitude.

I fell yesterday. Off an embankment, into a mud pit. It was a tidal pool and smelled quite a bit like the "Bog of Eternal Stench." I'm not a big fan of being dirty. Dirty is fun to write (with cucumbers), dirty is not fun to enact (in the mud, after falling).

I'm running TWO contests off my site. One supports the other. CONTESTS!

So, here's the cucumber scene, which is just after the infamous 'shopping cart scene' (Darragha's Blog). Both are from "The Mooncusser," my current writing in progress and a companion book to Cold, Hard Kash (the heroine in The Mooncusser is a Shadow Lover).

THIS IS NC-17 RATED. If you can't handle serious smut, then please go play here

He reached across her and withdrew a cellophane wrapped English cucumber from their shopping bags. It felt hard and cold.
“This is the perfect instrument to bring your temperature down.” He slid the cucumber along the crack of her ass.
Vesper moaned. “It’s cold. I like it.”
He teased her anus with the tip of the long green veggie.
“Yes, if you want to. Yes!” Vesper replied.
Jerrod chuckled. “You are up for anything, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Vesper whispered.
Jerrod inserted the cucumber into her vagina, working it like a dildo. Vesper responded, just as he knew she would.
“Fuck yourself with the cuc, Vesper. Reach up from behind and grab it. I’m going to do you in the ass again,” Jerrod said. “And this time, you can come whenever you want to, because once I’m buried in your fine, tight butt, I won’t be long behind you.”
Vesper reached out, and encircled the cucumber with her long fingers. It was easy enough to work the thing in and out. Until Jerrod rammed himself into her rear-end.

One 'commenter' today shall receive the Liquid Silver Books ebook of his/her choice.

Enjoy!

Darragha

The Good, the Bad and the Pretty

Author's advisory: Contains spoilers for a major motion picture in current release. If you're saving yourself, just enjoy the pictures...

I went to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest last weekend. After the initial reviews, I was a little hesitant, because I'd loved the first movie so much, but my girlfriend and I decided to go into this with the same expectations that we had the first one, basically looking for swordfights and pretty and subtext. Okay, we hadn't been looking for the subtext the first time around, but since it was so all over the place there, we figured it would be pretty prevelant here, too. And we weren't disappointed. Love triangles of every shape and size abounded, lots of sword fighting and lots and lots of pretty.

But I was surprised by one thing.

There was a new character. Or an old character made new again. And now I am fascinated with Commodore Norrington.

In the first movie, he was the straight man, doing his duty for king and crown, noble, righteous, honorable almost to a fault. He loved Elizabeth, but didn't really know her, ignored Will as too far beneath him and wanted to string Jack up for no other reason than that he was a pirate and that's what happened to pirates. He was about as by the book as a character could get.

I respected Norrington. He was a decent man, doing his duty, and I got that. But in the face of Will's passion and Jack's daring, he just got lost to me. He was pretty much a foil and that was all. End of movie, fade to black.

And then came Dead Man's Chest.

Oh. My. God.

He's dark. He's gritty. His morals have become questionable. He's sacrificed everything in his life to achieve his goal and lost, completely and utterly. Suddenly the character who was so staid and predictable is now...fascinating. You can't anticipate his actions because you don't know what drives him anymore. He signs on with the very pirates he's destroyed himself hunting. He steals, he breaks promises, he's bitter and sarcastic and utterly utterly fascinating. Suddenly Norrington is the one who's the enigma and Will and Jack are the predictable ones. Well, sort of Jack. Jack will never be entirely predictable.

Where am I going with this? Well, to the pictures mostly. Because dark!Norrington is just...yeah. *sigh* But this is what fascinates me about characters. How such a simple twist of fate can make such a simple man suddenly so much more complex, how a change in circumstances can so completely change someone's personality. And how writers can think of these things, can take a character so easy to write off and make him new and interesting all over again.

Now, I have my theories about what our dear James is really up to But like everyone else, I'll have to wait a year to find out. I can live with that. In the meantime I have the pretty to enjoy.

So how about you? Have you ever been surprised by a character, either in a book or movie, someone you thought would be as dull as dishwater and ended up fascinating you? Or a character who changed in a way you didn't think you'd like but who surprised you by making you love them all the more?

Winners! Spank Me Now!

Vicky suggested using those hot buffed waiters for a little spanking party. Now doesn't that sound fun? Vicky, email me at kayelle@kayelleallen.com to claim the book in any eformat. At the Mercy of Her Pleasure, or For Women Only.

But all the ideas were wonderful. Helping a friend go thru a divorce, showing the daughters that mom isn't so stuffy after all... everyone had a good idea.

Hmm. If I rent the butlers in the buff, will ya'll come over and play? LOL

Kayelle Allen
http://www.kayelleallen.com

Wanna Get Jaded?

In my universe (the Tarthian Empire) the Supreme Ruler of the Known Worlds is Empress Rheyn Destoiya. This woman has more power in her little finger than all the rulers of Earth lumped together.

One of her pastimes is playing with the males in her harem - which she calls the stable. Notice I did not say "men" - there are feline Kin and satyr-like Tyrans amongst her group of hot guys. Destoiya is all about pleasure, so I've been researching that for her in preparation for my next book. *I love my job!*

Her stable members are called Jades, and she insists that each of them learns a skill beyond the bedroom. She also makes sure they get plenty of exercise. *wink* Thought you might like to see a few of the hotties she keeps handy.

Ok - hang onto your hat. Here goes.






This is the Jade Swim Team.



There's no way the empress would ever want her guys to be out of shape. So she insists they eat right and get a good night's sleep. She likes to wake up next to them and have their arms around her. In At the Mercy of Her Pleasure, she wakes up between two of them. Several readers have commented, "The Empress has great mornings." So true.


A shower is important in the morning. She makes sure her guys are always presentable. After all, you never know if you're going to want a quickie, right? The Empress is known as the Queen of Unquenchable Lust, and it's no effort on her part to live up to her name.



Feel up to a nice hot shower?



She likes her jades to bathe at night - it helps them calm down after their stressful day. Helps soothe their nerves and help them relax.




Do you feel relaxed yet?



And uh, this one is here because... *checks notes*... Hmm. I know it's on here somewhere.


*slaps forehead* Oh, duh! There is no reason other than the empress absolutely loves a smooth, rounded ass. *snicker. me too*


Well, my friends, I hope this little excursion into Jade Land has been fun. So, let me ask the title of this blog again. Wanna get jaded?

Come and play in the Tarthian Empire, where Romance Lives Forever
http://www.kayelleallen.com

Buffing it up

Over on one of the groups this week I learned about a new site that I simply have to share with all of you. It's in England, dammit - and I'm not, so I will have to hope there is eventually an American version of this company.

It's called "Butlers in the Buff." http://www.butlersinthebuff.co.uk/

Check out one of the pics from their gallery:





Hmmm. I think I could handle being served by one of these guys. What about you? I'll have a download of either of my books - your choice - at the end of the day. All I want from you is a party scenario where you'd hire these three to work. For example, a birthday for your best friend, a pamper myself party for one, a hen party for a bachelorette, or a pre-concert dinner. One rule only: you can't use any of the scenarios I just named. The one that tickles my fancy gets the download.

For Women Only - The only one who can free his heart is the one he's commanded to betray.
At the Mercy of Her Pleasure - Once he tastes her passion, he'll always be at the mercy of her pleasure.

Both are available in all formats. What are you waiting for? Tell me how you'd "employ" these guys! =^_^=

Kayelle
http://www.kayelleallen.com

Happy Birthday!

Today is my birthday. At 3:14 this afternoon, I will officially be 37 years old. I’ve never been one of those women who worried about saying her age, but that’s probably because I’ve always been seen as looking younger than I actually am. When I was 19, I got carded trying to see a PG13 movie with my cousin. I still remember looking down at my C-cup breasts and the car keys I carried and asking the cashier, “Do you really think I don’t look 13?!?”

That doesn’t mean I don’t worry about those little age-niggling things. I color my hair to hide the few strands of gray that refuse to leave my right temple. I buy the best bras I can to keep my breasts from sinking to my stomach. It’s the little things I keep fighting, as if I really have any control over any of it in the long run.

My birthday tends to be a “take stock” kind of day. I look at my life, and I say, “Life is good.” I see what I have, how many blessings there are, and I smile. Sure, there are tough times. I get depressed over the silliest shit sometimes. And I’m not really happy about the whole getting older thing, though I will never be one of those women who goes to such extremes as plastic surgery or anything like that to counter it. But I like to think of what Jeanne Moreau said, Age does not protect you from love, but love to some extent protects you from age. I figure between my husband and my kids, I should be pretty much set. :)

So even though it’s my birthday, I’m wishing all of you a happy Un-birthday, too! Because every day should be a celebration, no matter what.

(Can you write) Sex on Demand?

“Not tonight, honey. I’ve got a headache.”

“Ooo, I put my back out at work. Can you take a rain check?”

“Sorry—it’s that time of the month.”

“Sweetheart, the kids have been running me ragged all day. Can’t we just cuddle?”

Sound familiar? What’s your favorite “not tonight, honey” excuse? Or do you just grunt and roll over in bed, hoping your partner takes the hint?

I never thought I’d grow tired of writing romantic fiction, but I have to admit that writing erotic-romantic fiction takes a lot out of a gal, especially when she’s got a day job and a family to take care of. I mean, you’ve got frisky characters who are demanding to be put through their paces—and readers who want to read all about them enjoying themselves in as many positions/situations possible. The pressure to “perform” sometimes can make you freeze like Bambi in the middle of a dark country road staring at a pair of oncoming truck headlights.

Writers are a fickle lot. Sometimes we want to take a break from the bedroom and focus on say, maybe, characterization or setting or other plot points beside the romantic ones. Like maybe you want to describe the history of the setting or what a flux capacitor is or how a shapeshifter is able to morph or the theoretical probability of time travel… You know, non-romantic things that have to be included in order to craft a well-rounded fictional adventure.

So here are my discussion questions for this blog: When you read romantic/erotic fiction in general, do you read because of...

1) The chemistry between the hero/heroine and/or other characters?

2) You’re in love with love and enjoy a “happily ever after” ending along with a great story?

3) You’re desperate and you’ll take sex anyway you can get it?

4) Something entirely different than what I’ve suggested.

Have you ever skipped over the “non-hot” sections of a book in order to get back to the “bedroom action”? Or have you ever done the opposite—skipped over the sex scenes to get back to the action? Your insights are welcome.

Never fear—it’s not like I’m going to stop writing romantic fiction anytime soon. It’s just sometimes I just want to cuddle, you know?

P. S. Check out my new blog site and participate in my latest “contest”. http://celinesdreams.blogspot.com/

Vegas! Yeah Baby!

It's ironic that Erin spoke of one of her favorite cities...Paris...Vegas is one of my favorite cities and seemed a logical place to set my next novella.

I don't know what it is about that city...I don't gamble so it can't be that. There is so much energy flowing in that town. Luck, Love, and Lust...definately Lust...

I took another trip there recently in January...I know it's not exactly prime travel weather but when it's sub-zero back home let me tell you 50 degrees feels quiet balmy.

I went with one of my girlfriends this last time...which was good, because I've never gotten to do the club thing because DH has serious agoraphobia. We went to the Ghostbar...a must stop on my list...excellent view. Took in Zumanity...every erotic author should attend in my personal opinion. If you don't come out of there with ideas...you were asleep.

So do you have a favorite city?

Maybe a place you've always wanted to go and why?

Watch for my next book in the coming soon section at the House of Sin...How ironic is that? Me an author loving Sin City and writing for a publisher who has their own personal House of Sin...wow...we shall have to do a blog on coincidence vs. fate...until next time.

Tina

The Joy of Paris

SEx ... Silver Expressions
Okay, I tried this earlier, and it didnt' show up. Hmmm. :)

Paris is probably my favorite city in the world. I don't know why, but the air smells sweeter and everything sounds a little better there. It is the primary setting for my latest release, Eurofling. It's just one of my fantasies fictionalized -- meeting a handsome Frenchman and living happily ever after in the City of Lights.

Anyway, I'm done with Paris yet. It might be awhile, but expect me to see some more stories with my name with a Parisian setting. . . .

Excerpt from All that Glitters

SEx ... Silver Expressions

you might be a redneck girl if your idea of a fun date is going muddin'

here's an excerpt from my book All that Glitters that proves my point, y'all

***

osh figured maybe he'd gone nuts, but pushing aside all of the bullshit for half an hour would be worth it. Damn it. They got the ATVs out, checking them over and making sure they were filled up with gas before Josh hopped on and commenced to trying to make Chas eat his exhaust.

Damn, the girl was good, though. Fearless and strong, Chas had not a bit of hesitance as she headed down an embankment, giving him a good, long look at that pretty heart-shaped ass framed in his jeans.

That ass gave him palpitations to this day. Josh looked away just in time to avoid a low-hanging tree branch and hooted. Oh, she was gonna get it for that. He gunned up next to her before turning nice and sharp, spraying her with mud.

"You bitch." Chas laughed hard, those blue eyes dancing, standing on the accelerator and zipping past him, crap spraying all over him.

"Oh, now, who's the bitch?" That couldn't pass without her paying for it. Josh went after her, laughing like a loony as she dodged and weaved, making him feel like the old man he was.

They came to rest under a copse of oak trees as the sky clouded up, a drizzle just starting, the tiny drops catching in Chas' hair as she smiled at him, just watching him. His hands itched to touch that hair. Instead they rested on his thighs, short nails digging into his jeans. "You're still a speed demon, lady."

"Some shit never changes, JC. Never has, never will."

Watching little clods of mud drop off his boots, Josh nodded. That was the truth. After all this time, after all he'd drank and screwed and done to get her out of his mind, one or two meetings had him kissing her, then wishing he could do it again and again and again.

"You got that right, honey. You surely do."

He heard her shift, one hand sliding out of its glove to stroke over his cheek, wipe the mud away. "You got splashed, JC."

Blinking, he leaned his head into the touch without even thinking, just staring right at her.

Eye to eye. Fuck, she still took his breath. "You were out for blood."

"You know me. I play to win." She kept touching, light little strokes like she was playing his skin. "'Sides, your blood wasn't what I was after."

Redneck Girls

SEx ... Silver Expressions

You've all heard the song Redneck Woman, I bet, and most have heard the Jeff Foxworthy has described the state of redneck as "a glorious lack of sophistication".

I think this probably describes me pretty well, too. And hey, the female lead in my novel All that Glitters is a redneck girl.

So what are the ways you can spot one?

I'll start.

You might be a redneck girl if:

your cellphone case has any of the baby colors, sparkly rhinestones or an antenna charm...

Anyone else?

Wishful summer thinking

Eek! I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date!!

My excuse is I had family visiting. And well, family...you know how it can be sometimes.

Anyway, I'd love to say that I was late because I've been lounging by the pool and reading tons of fabulous books in between writing some (hopefully) even more fabulous ones. Alas, I'm preparing to move at the end of the summer.

No vacation for me this year, just packing boxes and well, more packing boxes.

I'll be moving to Long Island (near Stonybrook) so if anyone has any ins and outs of the area, I'd loved to hear about it!

But finally, I'll get to the point of this post. My summer (like my post here) is looking to be a bit hectic (I don't thinkI'll be home for a weekend until I have a new home) so I want to know what you're all doing this summer? I want to hear about your fabulous summer vacations. I want to hear about relaxing around the pool and watching sexy pool boys.

How are you spending your summer? And here's the kicker, if you could spend your summer anyway possible, how would you spend it?

I think I'd like to spend my summer sunning with him.



Everybody who posts today or tomorrow (since I'm late I'm going to extend my contest) will be entered into a drawing for a copy of either Tempting Fate or Loving Fate - your choice.

Encore

So I was watching "13 Going on 30" last night (on Encore). Now, even though I normally take a pass on anything to do with chick flicks, I LOVE THIS MOVIE. *sigh*
Probably because I was such a horrible dork of a 13 year old. I was a mess. So much in fact, I've burned all the evidence.

But it got me to thinking....I really really wanted to be Pat
Benatar when I grew up (and later it was href="http://www.nicksfix.com/">Stevie Nicks). She was cool. She was a rebel. She looked fabulous in black! *sigh*

So now it's your turn. Fess up! Who did you want to be when you grew up?

I've got basketball games all morning long, but I'll check back in this afternoon!

Cowboy up!

Yee-haw!
It's that time of year again. The jingle of spurs, the *pop* and *fizz* of beer cans being open, the constant cries of "Yahoo!" and "Yee-haw!" and "Hey, baby!" fill the air. The scent of mini donuts, beer and manure fill the air. Everyone wiggles into denim, cowboy hats are worn by the police and nothing says "Wahoo!" than a cowboy hat with a whistle.
That's right...it's the Calgary Stampede when every woman, child and accountant become a cowboy for ten days. Yee-haw! My city has got the fevah! Can you hear it? Can you see it? Can you smell it? Oh yeah, for ten days tight jeans are worn by guys, and yes, cowboy hats are worn by the police. Grrrowf!
It leaves me distracted. Thank gawd for Levi's, Lee, or Wranglers. I don't care what guys are wearing as long as it's tight and made of denim.
Why oh why is the Stampede only 10 days?

Oh yeah...cuz not everyone looks like this...

Some look like this... and there's just not enough free beer on this planet to make me wanna stare at it for more than 10 days. Yahoo my little buckaroos. Ya-freakin'-hoo.

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

Somebody's Proofer

Well, here I am, one month down and counting in my new career as proofreader. I have to admit, I thought I’d be great at this job, and I’m a bit disappointed in myself. I think part of the problem lies with my OTHER career—that of dirty book writer, the career I thought was the REAL career until I got this new one and made the same money in a month as I made all last year writing. Now I might become a proofreader for life. But I digress.

Proofreading, in case you’ve never done it, requires that you keep your mind on what you’re reading or comparing. So, for instance, if I’m supposed to make sure the booklet on the back of a container of fish food says Not for human consumption, it would be real good if I wasn’t thinking about how to get my hero and heroine in bed in my next chapter instead. ‘Cause you know, if eating a little fish food would get them there in a new and exciting way, and they proceeded to spawn like crazy, well, hell, I might not notice what the booklet is saying.

This week at least, my distraction wasn’t my own work but a new book by Jasmine Haynes called Somebody’s Lover. Jack wanted a book last week, and he wanted it overnight, so I thought while I was ordering from Amazon I’d get Jasmine’s book, too. Consequently, we paid an exorbitant price in shipping, but it was worth it because I had her book in hand for the holiday weekend. Just in time for fireworks. Appropriate, since this book is hotter than a firecracker.

I teased myself, leaving it in plain sight on the kitchen table for two days, and finally opened it on Monday morning while I had coffee at the office. (Yes, we had to work on Monday.) OH. MY. WORD. This book is amazing.

What’s more, I had a hard time keeping my mind off the action in the book when I had to put it away at 8 AM. I can’t tell you specifically what was going on at that point, except I know it involved Jace making love to Taylor, because the whole chapter centered on that. I can tell you I was supposed to stop thinking about hot, sweaty sheets and start thinking about “fish food,” and it was a futile effort.

Jack(the bum) was off work and wanted to meet for lunch. Darn! That's my "guilt-free" reading time normally, but I didn’t think I could say, “Sorry, honey, but you know, I’ve got Jace bursting out of his jeans and Taylor ripping off her dress, so can we make it next week?” It wasn’t until later that evening I was able to get back to the fun. And that’s the way it went until lunch Wednesday, when I finished. My boss had the gall to interrupt the final moments, but I refrained from giving her the evil eye because she’s a nice lady. Still, she took her life in her hands entering my cube 2.25 minutes before my lunch time was up.

So, what's the point? I don’t know. Just wanted to share news about a good book with you. (I highly recommend you rush out and buy a copy of Somebody’s Lover by Jasmine Haynes—you won’t be sorry. Buy a fan, too, and lots of ice. Oh, yeah, and a tissue. This book has everything.) Over the glorious 4th of July, I edited several chapters in one book, added to my own time travel book, and sneaked precious moments reading Somebody’s Lover. I'll let you guess which parts were the most satisfying--and HOT.

What did you all do for the holiday?

And before I sign off, I’ve got to say thanks to all of our men and women in our military, and to their families, who sacrifice at home. THANKS!! You all are the very best.

Repo Chick Blues Winner

Thanks to everyone who shared their July 4rth with me! I really loved hearing about it. The winner of the free copy of Repo Chick Blues is A.E!

Congrats, A.E! Email me at tm-sharp@hotmail.com and let me know what format you want, and what email addy you want me to send it to.

Thanks again, everyone! It was fun!

Repo Chick Blues - Hot Excerpt!

One thing was for sure. I was having one hell of a good time.

I was thrilled to have made it to the repo depot in one piece.

“Good job,” Cal said as he walked toward the transport.

“Yeah, for almost getting my head blown off.” I climbed down from the cab, my nerves still singing under my skin.

“Hey, you wanted this job. Besides, I had your back.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I shook my head and glass tinkled onto the ground.

He walked over to me. “Let me see.”

“I’m fine. It’s just a bit of glass.” I tried waving him off, but he kept coming.

“You’re bleeding. Come on in. Let’s get some peroxide on those cuts.”

“I’m fine,” I said again, pushing his hands away. I hate people fussing over me.

“Look, I’m not going to be responsible for those cuts getting infected and you getting the flesh eating disease or some shit.”

“Your concern overwhelms me,” I muttered, following him into the shop.

Grudgingly, I let him pat a tissue soaked in peroxide on my cuts. The stinging felt good. Let me know I was still alive, which was shocking under the circumstances.

“There,” he said. He was standing close to me. Too close. I liked the smell of him.

“Thanks,” I said, turning away from him.

“Leah, come on out back for a minute. I want to show you something. It’s a surprise. I think you’re gonna like it.”

“Oh, if I only had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that line. And it usually isn’t a surprise. Just sad. Just very, very sad.”

“Will you just come on?” he said over his shoulder, heading out the door and into the parking lot.
I heaved a frustrated sigh. I’d had enough fun and games for the evening.

We headed outside to the back of the repo shop. It was dark and windy outside. Cal had the place well lit. I could see the forms of maples and poplars that lined the property and the only sound I could hear was the whispering of their leaves as they moved in the wind. It was peaceful, and all I wanted to do was curl up beneath one of those trees and sleep.

Several of the week’s repos sat back there and Cal stopped in front of the Rubicon. It seemed to shimmer under the moonlight. My heart ached.

I didn’t show it. “Yeah? What about it? Daddy can’t make the payments like little Miss Cheerleader thought?”

“Nope. He couldn’t. So I bought it cheap at auction.” He pulled some keys out of his pocket and tossed them to me.

I stared at him, baffled. “What’s this?”

“It’s a reward for doing a great job. Your training is over.”

My mouth fell open and I stared at the keys in my hand. “No way.”

“You’ve been whining about needing a vehicle. There you go.”

It was a dilemma. I never took anything for free. Plus, the Rubicon was far, far too nice a gift to accept.

As if reading my mind, he said, “Consider it a company car that you can take home with you. A company perk.”

“I--” The protest died in my throat. I wanted that Jeep. I wanted it bad.

“Leah, you’ve earned it. Just say thank you.”

I had earned it.

I really had. Hadn’t I?

I gave him a big, loopy grin. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

I closed the distance between us. “How will I ever thank you for such a generous company perk?”

He smiled. “I’m sure you could think of something but no thanks is needed, Leah. Really. You’re one hell of a repo agent and you deserve that Jeep.”

“I deserve you.” I stepped past him to the Jeep, turned and looked at him. “Inside of me.” I pulled myself up onto the hood of the Jeep. “On top of the Jeep.”

Callahan grinned. “You do, do you?”

I opened my legs, one hand on each knee. “Yes. So come here.”

He walked over and stood between my open legs, leaning in to kiss me. “You know, anyone could show up here at any moment.”

“Really?” I murmured against his lips. “I guess you’d better get those jeans down in a hurry.” I reached down, undid the button of his fly and slid them down his thighs using my feet to tug them down to his knees.

By then he already had my button undone and fly down. I lay back on the hood of the Jeep, watching as he tugged my jeans down my legs, pulling them off. He began folding them.
I leaned up, resting on my elbows. “Oh, for God’s sake, Cal! Just drop them!”

“But I don’t want to get them dirty.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “I want you to get me dirty. So drop them.”

Without another word, he held out his arm and opened his palm, dropping them to the ground.
“Good boy.” I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him toward me.

“Hold on,” he said. “Not so fast.”

“What?”

He bent down so my knees rested on his shoulders. “This,” he said, and kissed an inner thigh.

“Oh.”

His mouth moved over the inside of my thigh to the crease between my leg and my pussy. I lifted my ass to get closer to his mouth and he ran his tongue along that crease, making my head swirl and desire come slamming into me. His mouth moved over my clit, sucking gently, flicking his tongue lightly over it.

“Oh, fuck,” I moaned. “Oh, fuck.”

He slid two fingers into me and curled them upward, moving them slightly back and forth. The pleasure was so intense that I yelled out into the night. I moved myself up and down on his fingers, rubbing my clit against his mouth. “Yes,” I breathed. “Oh fuck, Cal. Yes.”

I opened my eyes and saw the clear, black sky, speckled with a blanket of stars. I’d never seen such a gorgeous night. One star shone brighter than the others and I thought of making a wish on it, but then I was coming, crying out and riding Cal’s fingers as pleasure coursed through me.

Before my orgasm had finished he slid into me and I was still contracting as he began thrusting. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in close as he fucked me. He leaned in, pressing his pubic bone up against my clit, first pushing hard, then rubbing against my pussy, making waves of desire roll over me again.

“That what you like, baby?”

“Yes, ooooh, God, Cal. I’m going to come again.”

He pulled me into a sitting position and slid his hands under my ass, pulling me tight against him. He ground against my pussy, flaming my passion, sending me into a wild rapture. I knew I’d come any second. I gazed up at him, his eyes cloudy with desire.

With a growl, he pulled out and flipped me over onto my stomach. The feel of the Jeep was cool beneath my belly. His hands found my hips and he pulled me down over his cock, thrusting into me hard. He yanked my hips up so that my face pressed against the Jeep and my ass rose higher into the air. My knees scraped against something but I didn’t care.

As he drove into me I reached a hand down under myself and found the juicy folds of my pussy. My swollen clit jumped out at me. Just a couple of flicks of my fingers and I was riding a pleasure so exquisite I had to scream. My pussy clenched at his rod, pulling at him as he hammered into me. He cried out too, gripping my hips, kissing my back, his mouth hungry on my skin.

He pulled out of me, his breath ragged, turning me back over onto my back. Collapsing on top of me, he rested his face against my belly. I lay back on the hood of the Jeep gazing up at the stars, wishing this moment would never end.

We’d promised each other that the sex wouldn’t affect the job. We’d try to keep both separate. Seemed we weren’t doing a very good job of it so far.


I hope you enjoyed the excerpt and your July 4rth! Tell me how you spent your July 4rth and I'll do a random drawing for a free ecopy of Repo Chick!

The morning after "Death by Seduction"

Good Morning!

I also had a release last night! I'm Anna J. Evans and "Death by Seduction" is one of my favorite stories (of mine, lol). Cale and Morgan obsessed my imagination from the second I started writing. They're both so stubborn and delightfully wicked. I had a blast writing about two people who loved each other, but who weren't necessarily 'the good guys'. (Though not really the bad guys either, lol). I'm posting their 'first kiss' scene below. Hope you enjoy it!

I'll be back later to post another 'cerpt and give details on my Summer of Seduction contest. You could win a basket of beachie goodies and an autographed copy of one of my summer releases.

Thanks so much!

Anna J. Evans

http://laughoutloudsexy.com

Excerptage:

"Take my hand, Cale," she said, holding out her tiny hand. He knew the slightest touch could cause his insides to become outsides, a completely undesirable condition any way you looked at it. He’d be spattered against the far wall before he had time to realize that he was dead and he’d always preferred to go out with a little more dignity.

"Make me a promise, first."

"Traitors don’t deserve promises, but I won’t kill you today. I can’t make any
promises about tomorrow," she said calmly, as if she were discussing the temperature in the room or whether or not they should stop for coffee before the end of their shift.

"I guess that’s all I could ask for," he said, placing his larger hand in hers, a
shockwave of sexual awareness coursing through him as her fingers curled around three of his own in an intimate little caress. How could he still be lusting over her at a time like this? He supposed old habits died hard, even when your subconscious knew you were probably enjoying your last few hours among the living and the woman you were lusting after just might kill you.

"It’s more than you should ask for. I’d kill you now if I didn’t want you to suffer first," she said, starting to lead him from the small white room.

"Then why don’t you kill me now? I’m not really in the mood to suffer," Cale said, retaining his hold on her hand but rooting his feet firmly to the ground, stopping them both in the doorway to the cell.

"I don’t give a shit what kind of mood you’re in, and neither does anyone else,"
Morgan snapped, finally starting to look angry as she tugged at him, her attempts to lead him forward turning into a struggle to free her hand. She couldn’t use her magic if she wasn’t going to kill him and without magic she wasn’t much stronger than a human woman her size, though he knew she could take a hell of a lot more damage without truly getting hurt.

"I don’t give a shit about anyone else," he said with a calm smile.

"That’s abundantly obvious, you son of a bitch," she hissed, a hint of pain in her eyes that almost made him reconsider his plan. Almost.

"Name calling. That hurts, but not as much as you want me to hurt. Why don’t you use your magic, Morgana, splatter my heart against the wall and we can get this over with."

"The Fey don’t lie. I promised not to kill you today and I have to keep that promise, you know that, Cale. Cut the shit or they’ll have a team down here to cut it for you," she said.

"You think they’re watching?" he asked, smiling again.

"You know they are, dumb ass. Now let go of my hand or I’ll bite your arm off."

"I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re here," he said, pulling her into him, pinning her arms against his chest before he pushed her back against the frame of the door.

"Let go of me," she hissed, struggling and kicking until he pulled her up in the air and used his lower body to pin the rest of her to door. Having her this close with her robe parted up to her waist would have been erotic as hell if they weren’t about to kill each other and she didn’t look angry enough to follow through with her threat to sever his arm with her teeth. He stayed away from her mouth just in case.

"Tell me what I want to know Morgan and I’ll let you go."

"Let me go and I’ll tell you what you want to know," she said, holding still for a
second before she resumed her struggling with twice the effort. He was forced to push even tighter against her, until he could feel her hipbones pushing into his waist and his lips were an inch from her own.

"If you bite my face, I’m going to kick your ass," he said, willing his body not to
respond to the smell of her, the feel of her, and failing miserably. His cock always had a mind of its own when sex combined with a little bit of danger. Add Morgan into the mix, and he was doomed.

"I didn’t realize you got off on violence," Morgan whispered, looking up into his face with wide eyes, actually seeming a little shocked to feel the beginnings of an erection against her thigh. She was so petite that, with her face even with his own, his cock was positioned directly beneath her entry, ready to slide inside her if they were wearing fewer clothes.

"I don’t, I get off on you. And you know I’d never hurt you. I’m just keeping you from hurting me," he said, fighting to breathe normally though the level of tension between them ratcheted up several notches when she shifted slightly in his arms. He saw her start to breathe a little faster as she became aware of his cock growing even longer and thicker between them.

"I don’t know anything about you," she said, hurt clear in her voice for the first time. It was the hurt that undid him.

"You know how sorry I am. If I’d thought there was any other choice I would have made it," he whispered almost against her lips, resting his forehead on hers and begging with his thoughts for her to understand.

"Me too," she whispered back, surprising the hell out of him when she closed the distance between their mouths, rubbing the satin of her lips against his for a second before she gently pulled his bottom lip into her mouth and suckled him, running her tongue over and over his sensitive flesh.

"Morgan," he moaned into her as his hands released her wrists and her legs parted to wrap around his waist. Then his tongue was sliding past her teeth, tasting her, claiming her, finally knowing what it felt like to kiss his best friend and the only woman who had ever entirely captured his imagination. Hungrily he pressed closer and felt her push back with equal passion, tongue swirling against his as if she would consume him from the mouth down.

He knew the cavalry would be here to help her any minute, had planned on it, in fact, since overpowering whatever guards were sent to corral them seemed the only way out of the present situation. But he couldn’t help but wish they had a few more minutes, or maybe a few hours, to see where this kiss would lead them. He was considering mumbling that wish against Morgan’s lips when she suddenly drew one hand away from his shoulders and then, just as suddenly, slammed her fist back down again.

"Shit!" he screamed as pain blossomed through his right arm.

He turned his head to see a small knife protruding from the thick muscle just below his shoulder and that second of lost focus was all it took for Morgan to shift in his arms again, bringing her knee hard up between his legs and shoving him back against the other side of the door.

Cale let out a muffled sound of pain and doubled over as a wave of pure agony shot through his groin. For some reason, the damn knee in the nuts hurt more than the blade in his arm. He was used to being stabbed and occasionally shot, but it had been a hell of a long time since he’d let anyone get close enough to sucker him between the legs.

"Like I said. Me too," Morgan said, eyes cold once more, as she stepped out of the doorway and out of his reach. "Now get your ass in the bedroom before I damage something we’re going to need."