Sunday, February 26, 2012
Thursday, February 23, 2012
You would think, that as a romance writer, I'd be all about romantic proposals. But living in a world where tv shows like The Bachelor and the The Bachelorette exist and falling in love has become something of a spectator sport, I admit that I've become a little jaded. And perhaps a little bitchy.
It might also have something to do with knowing a few people who were more in love with the idea of getting married than they were in love with the person they married. As you can imagine, this hasn't turned out well for any of them.
However, a few months ago, I stumbled across a marriage proposal that managed to melt my bitchy little heart. A (very sweet) guy decided to recreate his and his girlfriend's first date at Starbucks. Only he built his own private Starbucks in the the woods in order to perfectly set the scene to propose to his girlfriend.
It's so sweet and took so much planning. This blog details the pictures. It's really worth a look. I love that he went to this much effort (seriously - the details are amazing!) and that their first date was important enough to to him to remember. I hope they have a fantastic life together.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
But based on that criteria, my Valentine either does not exist, or I let him go in 1987.
I wish he'd return, or at least show himself.
I have a history of lousy Valentine's Days. In the 4th grade, my 'boyfriend' gave me a beautiful, homemade tissue paper heart in a box frame. I still have it, believe it or not! And in the 7th grade, my first 'true' boyfriend made me a pink and purple pipe cleaner anklet I wore for several weeks, until I was teased about it. (At the time, being with the same boy for more than a week or two was considered 'weird', and to add to the bewilderment, mine went to a rival school! What was wrong with me? Ah, the horrors of junior high....)
In high school is where I began to go wrong. In the 9th grade, I screwed up my courage to ask my crush if he wanted a 'kiss'. A real one if he said yes; or a Hershey's Kiss shown if he said no, with a 'too bad' tossed in (he looked startled and said 'no', then laughed and accepted my 'kiss'!)
In the 10th, I broke up with my boyfriend because I'd heard a rumor a basketball player was going to ask me to a dance. Didn't happen, and it took me six weeks to win that boyfriend back.
As a senior, I had a heart-shaped cookie with 'Te Amo' written on it delivered to that basketball player, since we were friends, and the entire school thought we were already a couple. I then chickened out and didn't go near him for two or three days. We remained friends, but never mentioned the cookie. I'm thinking about asking him at our 30th reunion if he remembers it, and what his reaction was!
In college, I formed a bad habit of breaking up with my boyfriends on Feb 14th. The relationship(s) had grown stale, and the one time I DID receive flowers, they meant nothing, because I ended the relationship two days later.
Even when my spouse and I were dating, I had to tell him what to get me. And my most heartbreaking Feb 14th was in 1996, when we had a fight and he announced he was going to leave me as soon as he went back to work. Funny; he didn't return to work until nearly June that year, giving us time to repair our relationship (God was looking out for us:). We're still together, though we have discussed going our separate ways many times. So now I just make sure our kids know they're my special Valentines. I buy them chocolate hearts, and fix a special dinner if we can't afford to go out to eat.
So for me, my Valentine is in the form of the various heroes I create. Kyle, Troy, Bryan, Kevin...you embody the Valentine I'm still looking for. If one won't come to me, I can at least make my heroines very happy.
Since I'm also posting today on another blog, here's my favorite Valentine scene from my alter ego's latest book, Forbidden Love (You DID know I had another pen name, right? LOL!). I had to change this to a September 'reunion' scene, but it originally takes place on Valentine's Day. Enjoy:)
Kyle’s hands roamed her body as he helped remove the lacy fabric. He swung her up in his arms, causing theteddy to fly across the room and drape across a lampshade. Keri laughed when she saw
where it landed, but he silenced her with a kiss, a hot, passionate kiss as he lowered her
onto the double bed. She tugged at his clothing as they came together with a wild
urgency, a demanding of total satisfaction, and almost desperation of being apart for so
long. Keri screamed, pulled his hair, and kept begging for more. When it was all over,
they'd fallen off the bed with the blankets and pillows twisted around them, both soaked
"Good God." Kyle shook his hair out of his eyes. "What the hell was that?"
"I want to do it again." Keri tried to catch her breath. "How…how did we get down
He burst out laughing. "Because, you little minx, every time I pushed into you, you
slid across the bedspread. I'm surprised you don't remember." He kissed her and
smoothed her hair. "That was pretty intense."
"I liked it."
Keri awoke the next morning to a tickling sensation down her back. Kyle trailed his
fingertips up and down her spine, even dipped between her legs. She needed to use the
restroom but didn't want to ruin the moment. She rolled over and kissed him then could
no longer ignore her bladder.
"Be right back." She scrambled out of bed and rushed into the bathroom. When she
returned, he patted her spot. Keri slid under the covers and let his warmth flow over her.
His hands cupped her rear end. "Do you know how long it's been since you've slept
naked with me?"
Keri shook her head. "You said June."
"Too damn long." He slid his tongue across her earlobe. "God, I can't get enough of
She kissed him and slid her hand down to grasp him, then rolled over to guide him
into her, but he stopped. "My turn. Be right back."
After his trek to the necessary was over, it was her turn to warm him then a game of
mutual give-and-take before he slid inside her once more.
"What time is check-out?" Keri fluffed the pillow behind her head.
Kyle lit a cigarette and blew a smoke ring. "Why? Need your chocolate fix?"
"No, although hot chocolate would be nice."
"Noon. Want scrambled eggs and bacon?"
He reached for the phone. "I'll order room service then I think we'd better remove
that peach thing from the lamp before the waiter sees it. After breakfast, I want to devour
you again and wash your back."
"I like that plan." Keri felt the color rise in her cheeks.
"You know, that's what I like about you." Kyle pulled her back into the circle of his
arms. "We've been sleeping together now, what, nearly two years? And you still turn that
pretty shade of pink when I talk dirty to you."
"Shut up and kiss me."
"Demanding now, huh?" He bent his head and kissed her until room service arrived.
Forbidden Love available at Secret Cravings, Amazon, B&N, and ARE.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
However, I do have a good excuse. My soulmate - you know, that one we're supposed to blog about? Anyway, he came home after being away for three very long weeks, so I'd like to think I was understandably distracted.
Husband of mine,
I love you more than I can express
Though, there are days you piss me right off
and I could cheerfully kick you in the head
Happily, those days don't happen often
There are far more days
That you make me laugh
You let me warm my cold feet on you
Hold me close
And tell me terrible jokes
You bring me rocks and calm my fears
You give books and cats and listen to my ranting
You've given me children more amazing than I could have imagined existed
You love me in spite of - or maybe because of -
The big tangled ball of crazy that is me
I've loved you since I met you
But I don't love you as much today
As I'll love you tomorrow
Monday, February 13, 2012
Where ever the hell you,
Make yourself known.
Now is good.
And in other news, Uniform Desires, part of the His Hero Anthology is being released on its own today. It's also part of my new Heart Of A Hero stand alone series.
Patience and training have provided him with the tools he’ll need to fight for what he wants.
Home on leave, Cade Donovan isn’t looking for a hook-up, let alone love. Certainly not while he is out with his brothers. When Cade steps in to even the odds in a fight outside a bar, he is instantly drawn to the man being ganged up on. Acting on instinct, the Marine Corps sniper is drawn to the smaller man like a moth to a flame, refusing to give up until the man is his.
Being the younger brother of the school bully has made Jason Carlson’s life hell. During yet another retaliatory fight, a man comes to Jason’s aid just when he thinks his life and his luck have gone from bad to worse. Warned to stay away from his home, Jason accepts the invitation of his rescuer and soon realises that his life has been forever altered. He can have everything he desires, if he’s willing trust Cade with his heart.
When the reality of loving a man in uniform sets in, Jason must find the strength within himself to believe and know that love is worth fighting for.
The plea—barely a whisper next to the loud music pouring from the Driftwood Bar and Grille—caught Cade Donovan’s attention. Senses flaring he listened again, weighing his options. His gut clenched and he turned to his brothers.
“Go on ahead, I’ll be right in.”
“Cade, where are you going?” his older brother Riley asked.
“Just need something I want to check out.”
“We’ll go with you,” his younger brother Christian said, nodding to his twin brother Riordan.
Cade smiled and shook his head. “Pretty sure I can take care of myself.”
It was rare for all of them to be home at the same time, but they’d managed it—everyone meeting at Parris Island for their sister Cheyenne’s graduation from Marine Corps boot camp three days ago. They had another two weeks before they all needed to be back to their respective bases. Earlier in the night, his sisters had gone to the movies, while their parents had gone to a couples-only party.
“Let us know if you need us to come rescue your ass.” Riordan laughed.
Cade nodded as his brothers headed into the bar. Aware of his surroundings, he made his way around the side of the building. Knowing the music would cover the sound of his boots on the pavement, he kept to the shadows as he scanned the area. At the far end of the parking lot, four men stood on the other side of a brown 1990 Cadillac Seville, kicking and shouting at an unseen person. He made his way along the side of the building and his heart dropped as his intuition was confirmed. Pulling out his cell phone, he sent a quick message to his brothers.
“Four on one. End of lot.”
Cade took a deep breath and hit send. Riley was with the SWAT team in the nearby city of Kalamazoo. Christian and Riordan were both Air Force Combat Controllers. It made sense to get their help, especially if any of the four men had weapons, but he had no intention of waiting for his brothers to show.
“Is there a problem?” Cade asked, striding over to the group then crossing his arms over his chest as he stopped.
“None of your concern, Marine,” said a man with dark hair and the beginnings of a beer belly that his faded University of Michigan T-shirt failed to hide.
“Please help me,” the boy on the ground sobbed out. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re breathing, Carlson, that’s enough,” a second dark-haired man sneered.
The four men looked to be around his age and seemed vaguely familiar but Cade couldn’t place them. They’d called the boy Carlson. As far as he knew, there was only one family of Carlsons—the family of the school bully Scott Carlson. Scott had been in his class, so that made the kid his younger brother or possibly a cousin.
“Leave the kid alone.” Cade stepped closer. Regardless of the kid’s relationship to Scott Carlson, four on one wasn’t remotely fair in these circumstances.
“Nobody asked you,” the first man said. “It’s none of your business.”
“Yeah, but see four on one isn’t fair, unless the one is a Marine. What did he do besides breathing that warrants all four of you beating the shit out of him?”
“His brother made our lives hell growing up,” a third man replied.
“Pretty sure Scott Carlson made everybody’s life a living hell. That doesn’t mean you take it out on his brother. That could be suicidal,” Cade reasoned as the smaller man tried to pick himself up.
“Doubt it. Saw him using his brother as a punching bag a couple of weeks ago. Makes him fair game,” the second man said.
“Bullshit! Why don’t you grow a pair of balls and face Scott himself?” Cade exclaimed. “Stop taking it out on someone smaller than you. That makes you just as bad as Scott.”
Movement caught his attention. Cade turned and blocked the punch, before countering with one of his own, knocking the man to the ground. He stood his ground as the remaining three men stalked towards him. Turning slightly, he stepped forward with one foot and punched the solar plexus and the gut of the closest man. Shifting his weight and pivoting, he kicked a third man in the head, knocking him to the ground, before focusing his attention on the remaining man. The man had been silent during the whole exchange.
Cade returned to the modified fighting stance he preferred and waited for the smaller man to move. He stared into the other man’s eyes until the smaller man looked away and kicked out at him. Cade caught the heel of the man’s cowboy boot and lifted with all his strength, sending his opponent sprawling onto his back.
Ignoring the four downed men, he stepped into the circle of bodies and grabbed the kid’s hand. He spun around, pushing the kid behind him as the sound of footsteps approached.
“What the fuck?” Riley asked, dialling his cell phone.
Cade relaxed, stepped to the side and guided the younger man towards his brothers, positioning himself between the man and his attackers.
“You were supposed to wait for us,” Riordan whined.
“Be smart—stay on the ground,” Christian said, moving towards the four downed men.
“Go find your own fight. Four on one was unfair. Besides, you were too slow.” Cade shrugged.
“Quit your bitching, you three.” Riley pocketed the device. “Police are on their way. What the hell happened?”
“The four of them were beating up on him for no good reason,” Cade explained.
“I…I need to go,” the smaller man stammered.
“No, you’re waiting for the police,” Cade said. “Well, the on-duty police. Riley is off-duty right now.”
The younger man shook his head and stared at the ground, kicking at a loose hunk of asphalt, holding one arm curled protectively around his abdomen. Cade’s instincts kicked in as he took a closer look at the battered man. Manoeuvring him towards the Cadillac, Cade used the nearby light to look for obvious injuries.
“How bad did they get you?” he asked.
“Just a few bruises.” The man shrugged.
“I’m Cade Donovan. These are my brothers Riley, Christian and Riordan.” Cade stuck out his hand to shake the other man’s instead of running it along his like his gut and cock were demanding.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
I also had an eight-year on-again-off-again relationship with an AF officer. He looked awesome in his dress blues.....
....as well as his white 'Don Johnson' outfit.
And who could fault a guy in a well-fitting tux? (fans self)
While on the swim team in my teens, speedos were the swimwear of choice for the males. I wasn't boy crazy yet, so the sight of the older guys in those skimpy, tight suits didn't do anything for me, while my friends drooled over the fact their 'package' was on full display. All I cared about at the time was whether or not they were fast in the water, and won their races! However, after a recent reunion with one of those former teammates, and remembering what he looked like in that suit....whew! Sometimes a long memory is more curse than blessing....and I've also been caught on video tape telling a life guard in December...."I didn't recognize you with your clothes on!"
It's a good thing my husband understood that statement in context, lol!
But now I find myself attracted to guys in khaki's and polo tops. So it just goes to show how tastes evolve over the years.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
So there you have it... what I find sexy in clothing is as clear as mud. Hehe...
Thursday, February 9, 2012
I'm not one of those women who finds suits or tuxes attractive. It just doesn't do much for me. However, give me a guy in worn jeans and a t-shirt and I'm all over that. So to speak.
Or a sweater and I'm there. Now, I'm not talking about a hideous holiday sweater or a seizure-inducing Bill Cosby sweater - I'm thinking of more of a chunky knit or a Aran/Fisherman's sweater. For instance, unlike a lot of other people on this blog, I don't find Robert Pattinson particularly attractive, however, this sweater ups the attractiveness factor at least 60%.
I also think a guy in a towel is a fine, fine idea.
And lastly, let's talk accessories. A guitar ups the hot quotient by a whoooooooooole lot. I can even ignore the ridiculous trucker hat on Jared Padalecki. Why? Guitar.
There you have it. My favorite guy looks. So...am I alone on the sweater/guitar thing? What do you guys find sexy?
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Yes, this item of clothing beats all of those things, for me. It never fails to stir my loins, no matter who it's on - and it does so for one very particular reason:
You can pretty much always see a hint of penis, underneath a pair of sweatpants.
Which is why sweatpants are my sexiest item of clothing.
Because you totally can, okay? It happens all the time, in even the tamest of places. You're there safely watching Heroes. It's PG-13. No one's going to start whipping out their boobs or having sex with someone's face. It's not True Blood, so you think you're safe.
Or at least, you are until Sylar puts on sweatpants and starts running. And then all you can see are the mesmerising kaleidscope of shapes, swirling around between his legs. Is that a fold of cotton? Did some jersey-like material just shift in a certain way? Perhaps his keys are in the pocket of these sweatpants, and when he runs they turn into a thick, rounded oblong.
Or maybe that's just his dick. It's his dick, all right? What you are now looking at is Zachary Quinto running down a hill, while his dick whaps back and forth against material so thin it's practically clingfilm.
And THAT is why sweatpants are awesome. It's like the male equivalent of a skirt blowing up in a strong gale. You try to prevent it from happening. Maybe you wear seventeen pairs of underpants, and strap your dick to your leg using sellotape. But all to no avail, because at some point you're going to have to run for that bus or bend a certain way or maybe a gust of wind will shove really hard against you and then BAM.
A million chicks looking at your dick.
And that's not even the best thing about sweatpants. Oh no no no. No, the best thing about sweatpants is that when your best bud Harmie Ammer** gives you a "friendly" cuddle, and then steps away - you can totally see his erection. Sweatpants are like the Erection Litmus Test. They're some kind of foolproof detector of erections, and more than that:
Erections look totally fooking orsum underneath them. I swear to God, you could have a penis the size of a raisin and it would still look like the almighty fist of Thor beneath that thin, ever so slightly clingy, always shifting material. My mouth waters just at the thought of a cock beneath sweatpants; my books are filled with odes to them...
Oh, sweatpants. May you ever shine your holy light, on a million celebrity penises.
*Here is the Fassbender Fall-Off, illustrated for your pleasure:
**Man, Armie Hammer's name is really hard to ineptly disguise.
P.S. My latest novella, a delicious concoction of the apocalypse, werewolves, massive hunky guys and forbidden sexytimes is out tomorrow over at Ellora's Cave. Hooray! If you fancy checking it out, you can find it here:
And also, my new and very mysterious publisher, Mischief, released a few erotic anthologies today. If you fancy seeing me in a couple of them (along with such amazing talent as Justine Elyot and Rachel Kramer Bussel) you can find them here:
Or if you're in the US, here:
Sunday, February 5, 2012
From Appetite For Desire....
The real life 'Olivia' was on the shy side, and didn't really interact with one of the more obviously popular girls. And when they were thrown together during a party, the other girls tried to have her removed from their table, but they also wanted to remain in my favor. They weren't happy, but I managed to impress a life lesson on them:
A few weeks earlier, 'Olivia' hadn't been able to make up her mind about what ice cream she wanted in the middle of her fruit plate, so I fixed her a 'special' one.
She took eight small glass bowls and filled seven of them with the appropriate ice cream or sherbet, and for Olivia’s, she used the smallest ice cream scoop and deposited several tiny balls of the brightly colored frozen desserts, topping it off with the rainbow sherbet.
When Courtney placed it in front of her, Olivia beamed and picked up her spoon. Penny was outraged.
Go Eli Manning and the NY Giants! Beat Tom Brady and the NE Patriots!!!!
Super Bowl XLVI is being held just two hours north of me, in Indianapolis, IN!! So cheering on the Manning Brothers, and hope the Colts make the right decision about that other awesome Manning, Peyton!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
It's been pretty quiet here, this week.
No one wanted to take a stab at this topic?
I'm gonna give it a go with an excerpt from Immortal Curse. And I apologize for being so late. I was pretty much gone all day and most of the evening. Literally just walked in the door and yelled, "Crap! My post is late!"
To which my kid looked at me and responded, "First world problems."
So true, boy child. So true.
But anyway, I digress. Here's the scene in Immortal Curse where our intrepid heroine, Emma, meets Ian, the ghost.
Gripping the rim of the claw-foot tub, Emma pulled herself up to the surface and wiped the water from her eyes. She opened them, and a scream caught in her chest. A tall and decidedly transparent man leaned against her sink. Dressed as he was in a black suit, complete with a long frock coat, he looked like an antique photograph come to life. Shaggy, dark brown hair drooped across his forehead, and he pushed it aside. Deep blue eyes watched her intently.
There's something about a man in a frock coat...
“For fuck’s sake,” she was finally able to mutter.
Not that this will come as a huge surprise, but 'for fuck's sake' is one of my all time favorite phrases.
“Language, Miss Boulton.”
Boulton is my great-grandmother's maiden name.
She grabbed a towel and quickly stood to wrap it around herself. Pointing at the door, she said, “Out. Out of my bathroom. Out of my house. Out of this plane of existence, already.”
A dark eyebrow rose. “I’d love to. Really, I would.” An Irish accent colored his words, and his deep voice wrapped her in tingling warmth. “However, I’m not leaving until you convince your harridan of a sister and her equally obnoxious companion to leave.”
God, I love an Irish accent...
“Your sister.” He spoke slowly as though he thought she were an idiot. “Is in my schoolhouse. With her friend—the girl with red hair. They’re not listening.”
Realization sank like a stone in her stomach. “The abandoned schoolhouse on eighty-fourth street.”
The schoolhouse in the story is a real place in rural MI - in fact, it's the same one room schoolhouse where my Dad and uncles attended school waaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in the day. It's a cool old building, but creepy as hell.
“The same. They have an Ouija board.” Disdain dripped from his voice. “A pink Ouija board.”
Jen Armintrout and I went ghost hunting there once. With a pink Ouija board. It was Jen's.
She was going to kill Meaghan. And her friend, Rowan. She’d told them time and time again to stay away from there, but they didn’t listen. Now, she had to deal with a pissed off ghost.
I have a friend who's very sensitive. This whole bathroom scene was inspired by what happened when Jen and I went to the schoolhouse. However, the ghost is the story is much hotter than the one who showed up in my friend's bathroom and inspired this story.
“Look, I’m sorry they disturbed you, but they really don’t mean any harm.”
“I don’t care. I want them out.”
She sighed. Meaghan wanted nothing more than to see the same spirits Emma did, but it wasn’t where her gift lay. She was a seer—not a medium. Of course, Emma heartily wished she wasn’t a medium at the moment.
My friend has wished this too. I, however, wish I could see stuff...like ghosts.
Because it's so late and I'm so stinking tired, this is just a short bit of author commentary, but I promise, if we do this again, it'll be longer.