Writer's Evolution

An Ode To My Soulmate...

2012-02-13T08:03:00.003-05:00

To My Soulmate,
Where ever the hell you,
Make yourself known.
Now is good.
Stay safe.

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.

Blurb:

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.

Excerpt:

“Stop…please!”

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.

“Jason Carlson.”

Do Clothes Make The Man?

2012-02-12T11:25:00.000-05:00

I'm all over the place when it comes to what my man is wearing. I once dated an X-ray tech, so I thought he was sexy in his green scrubs

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.

Transparent Togas and Boobs

2012-02-11T18:05:00.000-05:00

I honestly don’t think I have a favorite item of clothing for a guy or girl. I’m a boob girl, so a shirt that shows off the girls without being overly slutty is always nice. When it comes to men, a good ass is always nice so a well worn pair of blue jeans is generally lovely eye candy. I like to be able to use my imagination though, you know? A guy walking around without his shirt on isn’t nearly as sexy as a guy who is wearing a great tee shirt that shows all of his lines or a sleeveless tee to showcase his arms. It's the same thing with girls… a sneak of the waist when she bends over is way hotter than wearing a belly shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination.

My love of the unknown is probably why I love the clip below so much. See, I love me some DonnieWahlberg. Even back in the day when he had that god-awful mullet and wore ripped up stonewashed denim, I loved him. Now he’s all grown up and holy hell is he pretty. I spent two evenings last summer screaming my fool head off at the two NKOTBSB concerts in Michigan (that’s New Kids on the Block and Backstreet Boys if you’re not up on the boy band lingo). There aren’t many words to describe the sexiness that is Donnie on stage. Well, actually there are words…Damn. Hot. Smokin’. Holy Shit. Fuck Me. Sweet Baby Jesus… those are just a few. :)

Anywho… as you may recall, last December I went on a Backstreet Boys Cruise to the Bahamas. It was awesome, but while this was only BSB’s second cruise the NKOTB have been doing it for a while. Both cruises usually involve theme nights in which cruisers dress up to fit a certain theme. On the last NKOTB Cruise, they had a toga party. Donnie Fuck-Me Wahlberg in a toga… A toga that in the correct lighting is somewhat transparent. Wait for it... waiiiit for it...

Yes. Yes. Very much,yes.

And here he is demonstrating the partially dressed look quite famously on tour last summer.

And rocking the dressed but showing off the body look...

Have I mentioned he follows ME on Twitter? *nods* Loves me longtime. LOL

Then there's my Number One Girlfriend Angelina Jolie… The girls are accentuated and looking yummy, tummy showing, sneak of the tattoo… bliss.

Joey is hot half naked...

But look how fucking hot it is when he's just showing a little sneak of that tummy... (This is probably the only time I've ever found sweatpants sexy, btw. Sorry, Charlotte!)

Of course mostly naked is good too... This poster for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is by far the hottest damn movie poster ever. Yowsa!

So there you have it... what I find sexy in clothing is as clear as mud. Hehe...

Too Sexy for My Shirt

2012-02-09T08:19:00.011-05:00

Okay, now that I've got that song stuck in your head (you're welcome) let's move on to what I find sexy clothing-wise.

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?

Unintended Striptease

2012-02-07T19:26:00.003-05:00

There's one item of clothing I find sexy above all other items of clothing. Above crotchless panties, from which his penis peeps like a shy mole. Above leather pants that hug that ass the way I would, if the ass in question was Armie Hammer's. Above tight shirts that give men hips; above denim in all its forms (from Heinous Hasselhoff to the Fassbender Fall-Off*); above vests that sprout arms like bulldozers.

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:

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9906-raw-heat.aspx

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:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sex-Stranger-Collection-Casual-ebook/dp/B006PW46OI/ref=sr_1_32?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1328634140&sr=1-32

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Submission-Treasury-Women-like-ebook/dp/B006PW46PC/ref=sr_1_35?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1328634225&sr=1-35

Or if you're in the US, here:

http://www.amazon.com/Submission-Treasury-Women-like-ebook/dp/B006PW46PC/ref=sr_1_35?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1328662985&sr=1-35

http://www.amazon.com/Sex-Stranger-Collection-Casual-ebook/dp/B006PW46OI/ref=sr_1_32?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1328663021&sr=1-32

Director's Cut-Er, Make That Author's Cut...

2012-02-05T10:32:00.002-05:00

From Appetite For Desire....

Courtneyslid into her seat, fanning herself. Her hot pink t-shirt and black Capri pantswere damp with perspiration. She downed the last of her warm margarita andwiped her forehead.

“Whew!”she shouted at Stephanie, who also looked wilted in her flowered camp shirt andjean shorts. “That last set was a bitch!”

Stephanie’seyes widened as another margarita landed in front of Courtney. “Looks like youmade an impression on someone!”

Courtneygrabbed their server’s attention. “I didn’t order this.”

“It’sfrom a gentleman at the bar.” The waitress bobbed her head at the man inquestion.

“Who?”Courtney squinted at the shadowy figure, frustrated the lights hid him fromview. Her curiosity spinning, she asked the waitress to point him out.

“He’sthe third one from the end, on the right side.”

Courtneystill couldn’t get a good look at him, but one of the other girls called, “He’sthe one who was asking about you last week, Court! The one whose date wasconstantly licking his tonsils?”

Courtneygroaned. She remembered him, all right. She and the rest of her coworkers hadgone to a small neighborhood bar, and she’d seen the handsome man with aclearly drunken woman. He left the bar shortly after they arrived, when hisdate decided to try to undress him in front of everyone.

When I first sat down to write Appetite, I remembered the first time an anonymous man had bought me a drink. I was actually drinking rum and coke, but since my current drink of choice was a margarita, I changed it. And yes, the man in question had been seen two weeks before, with a drunk date who decided to engage in a little too much PDA (public display of affection) with him. He kept shooting looks my way, and I think she tried to divert his attention..

“So?Maybe he’s changed. Go on, invite him over here,” Stephanie and the othersencouraged her.

Theliquor lowered her resistance. No one had ever bought her a drink in thatmanner before and Courtney was flattered and excited by it. Downing a largeswallow, she stood up amidst the cheers of her friends, and made her way to thebar.

Shesucked in her breath at the sight of his muscular back encased in a bluestriped polo shirt. Tentatively, she reached to tap him on the shoulder.“Excuse me, sir!”

Heswiveled around and smiled. “I’m Dustin.”

“Courtney.I remember you from the Par Four bar last week.” Lord, he was tall! When hestood up, the top of her head reached his shoulder. His lazy smile combinedwith his milk chocolate eyes sent the flutters that were in her stomach toplummet lower, causing an uncontrollable ache. “Thank you for the drink. Do youwant to come join us?”

“Lead the way.”

We danced the entire evening, and he called me the next day. We enjoyed each other's company for two weeks, until his work schedule changed, and we were unable to get together. He called me a few weeks later, and we went out to dinner, but it was obvious our chemistry had fizzled. But I still have fond memories of our time together!

My favorite excerpt, however, is a real life event which occurred while I was working at the country club. I'd become a favorite of several of the kids, and one little girl in particular.

“Whydoes Olivia have to sit with us?” The eleven-year-old stuck out her full lowerlip in imitation of her mother’s pout. “She’s such a baby.”

Courtneyglanced toward the table. Four round tables were set up; eight place settingsat each. The adults were mingling while the table where the boys sat wasalready in disarray.

“Yourparents are friends,” she chose her words carefully. “Don’t you think you couldat least try to get along for at least an hour? Then you can all jump in thepool or go your separate ways.”

“Butshe wasn’t even supposed to be invited,” Sheri Stants whined and tried to poutalso, but failed. “She’s only here because of her dumb brother.” She rolled herlarge brown eyes and looked at the third girl. “Why did your brother have toinvite Derek?”

PennyWest tossed her blond ponytail and shrugged her shoulders. “I asked for aseparate party, but nobody listens to me. So even though we’re all goingswimming, only my friends are staying the night.”

“NotOlivia,” Lacey and Sheri gasped.

“Oh,no. Just you guys and Lori, Karen, and Emily,” Penny assured them. The otherssighed in relief. “But seriously, Courtney,” The birthday girl returned to theissue. “Can’t you seat her with the adults?”

Courtneysmiled and shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t write the seating chart. All Iexpect you to do is to be civil to her during lunch. Can you at least do thatfor me?” She looked each girl in the eye.

The girls squirmed. “Okay.”

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:

Whenshe arrived at the girls’ table, Penny grabbed her. “We’re all having the fruitplate,” she announced. “I want rainbow sherbet.”

“Lemon.”

“Orange.”

“Rainbow.”

“Strawberry.”

“CanI have chocolate?” This came from Karen, who Courtney knew, hated sherbet.

Courtney nodded and moved to Olivia. “Theusual?” She smiled, patting the young girl on the shoulder. “I’ll take care ofyou.”

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 glassbowls and filled seven of them with the appropriate ice cream or sherbet, andfor Olivia’s, she used the smallest ice cream scoop and deposited several tinyballs of the brightly colored frozen desserts, topping it off with the rainbowsherbet.

(Later)
WhenCourtney placed it in front of her, Olivia beamed and picked up her spoon.Penny was outraged.

“Howcome she gets that? I didn’t know we could order it that way,” she sputtered.

“Yeah,how come you never told us we could have it that way?” Sheri huffed.

Olivia’sface grew red, but Courtney placed an arm around the girl’s shoulders.

“Oliviahappens to be a special friend of mine, and to those I like, I give certainfavors, such as the ice cream dish. Penny, you like it when I give you extrawhipped cream on your milkshakes, and Karen, you’re fond of extra cherries inyour Kiddie Cocktails. I could go around the table and tell each of you whatextras I do for you, but I’ll leave you with this, I expect my favorites to becourteous, kind, and respectful towards others, otherwise, no specialtreatments.” She squeezed Olivia’s shoulder. “Understand?”

Thepre-teens looked at each other, then up at Courtney. “Yes, ma’am,” they noddedtheir heads and began eating.

After this incident, the 'popular' ones didn't snub 'Olivia' again, but included her in their activities....at least when I was working. I'm hoping they learned to be a little nicer to others!

Another favorite scene is this one:

.“I don’t want to sneak around anymore, Courtney.” He stepped closer to her andtook her hands in his. “This is going to sound crazy, but would you considerquitting the country club? You could be our personal chef.”

Courtney’schin snapped up. “Seinfeld did an episode several years ago about this sort ofthing.” Her tone was chilly. “It begged the question—can one sleep with themaid and still pay her, even if she’s not cleaning? I am not that type ofperson. How dare you…”

Dustinkissed her to silence her, and Courtney felt her anger fading. “I’m notsuggesting anything like that,” he murmured when they came up for air. “I mean,move in with me. Be my wife, my partner. The kids need a healthy role model,and they already love you. Hell…” He swallowed again. “I love you. How crazy isthat?”

I couldn't resist throwing in the Seinfeld reference. I felt it fit, given Courtney's personality and her sense of honor!

If you're interested in reading this book, it can be found here:

http://store.secretcravingspublishing.com/index.php?main_page=book_info&cPath=4&products_id=85

And Since It's Super Bowl Sunday.......

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!

10 Days - with Commentary

2012-02-04T23:17:00.001-05:00

I asked my groupies to help me with this week’s post. I did an unofficial survey of what scene my readers would like to have commentary on and it was decided with the help of Kelly and Angie that they wanted this one.

It’s from a story of mine called 10 Days in which each chapter is its own day in a ten day stretch in the lives of the characters. It’s fanfic and it's at least 4 years old I think, but it’s still one of my favorites. Of course once I opened up the document and re-read the chapter I wanted to edit it and make it better because I’m anal like that and can always find something to change. But when it comes to commentary I hadn’t a clue what to say! I often don’t know what the hell I’m going to write until it comes out of me, so a lot of the time my chapters don’t have hidden meanings or secrets. Sometimes they do, of course…but with this one, I honestly didn’t have much. To be honest, I was probably just in the mood to write the male lead as a sweetheart and then threw in a little sumthin’sumthin’. Anywho, here’s a peek!

"How come we’ve never had sex?"

Kel laughed and shook her head taking the beer bottle out of Nick’s hand, "You’ve definitely had too much to drink tonight."

Yeah, this was one of those fanfic’s where the fictional me was the main character. I like to say that the Kel’s in my stories are like Barbie… They’re all the same chick but with different talents, jobs, and clothes.

Oh and this was my first attempt in a long time writing in 3rd person. Most of my stuff was in 1st person at the time I wrote this. Actually I still love 1st person, but I know some people are picky about it.

"I’m not drunk…" he said and smiled taking his bottle back. They‘d been sitting in a high-backed two-person chair on the deck of the house watching the moon over the water while talking, drinking and enjoying the calm of their surroundings. "I was just thinking about it. I mean, you’re so hot… and so am I," he snorted at himself and she laughed watching him. "How come we never slipped and just went at it like animals?"

I seem to write two person deck chairs into a lot of my stuff… I love them. Cozy! Adirondack’s are my favorite.

"Because we love each other too much to risk it."

"Risk what? And aren’t people supposed to be in love when they have sex?"

"Risk our friendship…" she smiled. "You know… making it all weird with sex."

"I never understood the theory that having sex would make things weird between friends…" he said shaking his head. "We’re best friends, you love me, I love you. You know me better than anyone in the world, who better than to sleep with than someone I trust completely?"

"Sure, in theory it makes sense. But seriously, let’s say we’d had sex… You’d always have it in your memory bank. You’d always be able to think about me in the throes of passion, and not always in appropriate situations. Like you’d introduce me to your latest girlfriend and in your mind you’d be thinking that you’d fucked me. Or you’d be at my wedding and dancing with me while I’m in my wedding gown and you’re thinking, ‘Wow, I actually tapped this ass once…’"

They both laughed and Nick shook his head, "Okay, so maybe I’d do that… but what’s wrong with it? You’d do the same thing. You’d be getting married and I’d be your best man… cause you know I will…" he chuckled and she smiled with a nod. "And before you’d say‘I do’ you’d think ‘I should have screwed Nick once more before today…’"

"You’re so crass…" Kel laughed.

"Oh and you’re not?" he laughed back. "My point is… so what if we have screwing each other in our memory bank? I’d much rather remember fucking you than fucking Heather…"he said rolling his eyes.

Heather is my sister in law’s name… I have no idea why I pulled her name out of my ass.

Kel laughed loudly and nodded, "You’ve got a point there. She couldn’t have been a good lay. She was so…picky."

"She was horrible in bed…"he said with a shudder that made Kel laugh.

No, I don’t know if my SIL is bad in bed or not. LOL I do know a little too much about her sex life though.

"Yeah well, I had Steve…"Kel groaned. "He was so bad. I don’t think he ever got me off. I faked it every time."

Nick snorted again, "That’s bad…I’d get you off…"

Rolling her eyes she smiled, "I’m sure you would."

"I’m never going to get the chance am I?" Nick said as he rolled his head to the side and looked at her.

"Not while I’m with AJ…" she said with a smile as she reached out and touched his cheek with her hand. "I’m flattered, but I can’t…"

"That just makes me want you more…" he smiled and turned his head to kiss the inside of her hand gently.

She smiled shaking her head, "My poor Nicky…"

"It’s not even about my needs…" he said. "I just want to make you feel good…"She stared at him for a moment, not exactly sure how to take his comment. "I don’t get how he could stay away from you for so long. There’s no way I could keep my hands off of you if you were mine. Not even if I were highly medicated."

He reached out and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek, "Nicky…" she said softly, her voice spiked with sadness.

"I just don’t get him, Kel. How can he turn you away? How wrapped up in himself can he be to be so blind to you? God… there’s so much pain I your eyes. Can’t he see that?"

She closed her eyes when she felt them fill with tears and she shook her head, "Don’t…"

And here’s why my muse decided to take over and lead things in a totally different direction.

"You’re so beautiful…" he whispered to her and wiped her tears away gently. "You’re so amazing… He has no idea what he has." She continued to cry and couldn’t form any words, simply keeping her eyes closed she shook her head. Nick’s hands stopped her from shaking her head and then he pressed his forehead to hers still holding her face, "You deserve to be touched." He softly pressed his lips to hers, "…and to be kissed."

She let out a soft sob when his lips met hers a second time and he kissed her in a way he’d never done before. He nipped her bottom lip softly and then pressed his tongue into her mouth. His hands moved from her face down to her waist and pulled her body into his as he kissing her deeply. Their minds swam with emotion as they kissed and their bodies responded to each other. His hands moved once more and sought out her breasts as he moved his kisses to her neck. Her head fell back as she felt his breath on her skin and his hands kneading at her breasts. She let out a soft sigh as her body experienced feelings it hadn’t felt in so long, everything in her being wanted him to keep going. She wanted him to make her feel as good as she felt right then, and even better.

He on the other hand hadn’t planned on making any move on her that night, but when he did, it just felt right. He really did want to make her feel good, and he didn’t mean just by making her laugh either. He didn’t know where it had all come from, but it was there, and there was no denying the fact that he wanted her, and it felt like she wanted him as well.

"Let me make you feel the way you should feel, Kel…" he said softly against her neck as he slid a hand between her legs and slowly inched it up the inside of her thigh.

And here’s where I cut you off because if you haven’t read this story you can’t possibly start with a Day 5 spoiler! Bwahaha! :) If you want to read it, I can hook you up with a PDF, you've just gotta tell me where to send it.

Mwah!

Immortal Curse - Author Commentary

2012-02-02T08:42:00.003-05:00

Hello?

Anyone?

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...

“What?”

“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.

Four Books Which Should Have Been Mine.....

2012-01-29T03:30:00.000-05:00

When I was 11 and writing my own stories about beautiful princesses, lonely kings, defective dragonflies, kind giants, and helpful trolls, I envisioned my own book of fairy tales one day. Obviously hasn't happened, because a year later my mom let me read my first romance book.

I absolutely loved this book! After devouring it several times, I tried to instruct my sister on 'how to act' as we continued the story, inserting ourselves into it. I was the rebellious daughter of Heather and Brandon, and she was supposed to be my best friend/partner in crime, but I would ultimately get the guy (played by my giraffe coat rack....yeah, go ahead and laugh....) while she would get her own true love. But mine was the 'bad boy'. She disliked this game and wouldn't cooperate, so this story stayed in my imagination and is still somewhat swirling around in there. You might say I 'updated' it from post-Civil War to the present in Wild At Heart....

This was my first Lavyrle Spencer book, read in the early 90's. I love this one better than ones where the pregnant mama is marrying her dead fiance's best friend and vows to never love again....or there are tons of misunderstandings because of assumptions made by both adults....yes, I'll admit this keeps me turning pages, but it also makes me want to jump into the story and lock both characters in a closet until they TALK to each other!

Why do I bring this up? While painting my bedroom in summer 1990, my imagination took off and imagined an artist commissioned to paint a mural....she brings her tiny son along....and in walks the man she thought was dead. He'd been sent overseas and not heard from in several months; word trickled back he'd been killed in combat; and in her grief, she turned to his best friend, but the baby was his. Actually, you know what? This sounds an awful lot like...

...but I never got around to writing it down OR even finishing the scene I'd imagined after the initial confrontation!

And since everyone now knows I wrote my own ending to Star Wars (and got it completely wrong....), George Lucas never contacted me for my take on the prequels, ha ha ha! And I kind of gave up on Fan Fiction after that.

So what do you think? Was I cheated out of my chance? Or was I simply 'in tune' with Lavyrle Spencer's muse? I guess there's always room for my own 'spin' on these stories!

How do they DO that?

2012-01-28T13:15:00.001-05:00

I often find that after seeing a mind-blowing movie I'll think, "How the hell did someone think of that? How did they write something that complex?" Then I'll think, "I don't think I could ever do that."

When it comes to books though, I sometimes think, "I could've written this..." and "Why didn't I write this?!" For example, I wholeheartedly believe that the Twilight series is pretty craptastic when it comes to the writing. Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of the series. But Meyers had a great idea and went with it. Now she probably won't ever NEED to write again because financially she's set. I wish I'd written those books, and did a better job. :)

Then of course there's JK Rowling. I know for a fact that I couldn't have written the HP series. It amazes me how she managed to weave so many things together throughout the series mostly because I'm not a planner when I write and I assume that writing like she does takes a whole lot of pre-plotting. But yep, I wish I could write like that.

Of course it's not all about the money, movies and merchandise though... I remember reading Jennifer Armintrout's first Blood Ties book years ago and totally falling in love with it. A vampire story set in Grand Rapids?! Sweet! I fell for all of the characters and ate up the series all the while thinking how cool it was that someone from Michigan wrote this awesomeness. It gave me hope that maybe one day I'd be published too. I'm still not... But I do know Jen via Facebook and The Twitter now and it's pretty damn cool to be able to chat with someone who you look up to when it comes to writing. :) <3

Another author I adore is Sarah Addison Allen. Every single time I read one of her books it gets inside of me and sets up residence for a while. I'm in awe of her writing and how she pulls her stories together. I totally wish I'd written her books because they're just so damn amazing!

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a tasty book by Bronywn that I'm in the middle of reading right now that wants my attention!

Have a great week!

Damn, I Wish I'd Written That

2012-01-26T00:34:00.000-05:00

I often feel like I wish I'd written stories I've read by other authors - sometimes it's a whole story, sometimes it's just a line or two. I like to think of it as a deep and abiding love and respect for words and stories that affect me.

But the one story that I most wish I'd written is The Wild Wood by Charles deLint. Originally, I'd bought the book on eBay because I collect the artwork of the illustrator - Brian Froud. When the book arrived, I flipped through it to look at the pretty pictures. Before I knew it, I found myself sucked into the story and I had no desire to get out.

I fell in love with the magical world created by deLint. I didn't just fall in love - I wanted to crawl inside the book and live there. The writing is both haunting and poetic and the descriptions powerful. Any time I pick this book up, I fall into it again just as deeply as I did the first time I read it.

I got so much more than beautiful artwork. I discovered an author who to this day remains one of my favorites. I'd love to write a book that affects people in the way The Wild Wood affects me.

Well of Course....

2012-01-25T03:42:00.000-05:00

I'm sure we ALL wish we had written these books. Not just for the ridiculous fame and fortune Ms. Rowling has experienced since producing these works. For me it is more about the fact that she was able to touch so many people's lives. These books were such a huge part of an entire generation. People became entranced with the world and it's characters. And they were really, really good books.

Even though they were written for kids she never talked down to her readers. She trusted them to work through the difficult stuff with Harry and Ron and Hermoine. She gave the reader just as much credit as they gave her. There is a level of trust between her and her audience that is not often found in the publishing world.

I know that I write, and I like to think I produce some pretty good work. But I don't know if I have the creativity in me that she has. The stories and the settings and the lessons that were in these tomes are absolutely incredible.

So yeah, I wish it had been my idea. I wish I had written these books. But I will always be glad that at least I had the chance to read them. Over and over and over again.

XoXoXo
D

Winter By The Ages

2012-01-22T09:02:00.000-05:00

Up to age 6: Bundle me up Mommy! I'm c-c-c-coooooold!

Age 8: A blizzard? On my birthday? But I wanted to share my cupcakes and wear the crown in school today! That's not fair!

Age 12 (Blizzard of '78): Whoo hoo! Snowed in! No school! The snow is clear up to the roof! (Two weeks later): Why can't I wear pants to church? I'm COLD!

Age 13 (Blizzard of '79): This is exciting! Snowstorm hit; school is cancelled....now where are the busses? Oh...they can't get through? How am I supposed to get home? Hi Daddy!....What, the power is out at home? How's Mom going to fix supper? (Later): This is fun! Roasting hot dogs in the fireplace and pretending we're on a camping trip! And no school for the rest of the week!

Age 19: I'm tired of being cooped up due to all this snow....

Age 24: What? You expect me to drive in this? Surely the kids have a two hour delay....or none at all. Why didn't I take a job in Florida?

Age 28: Why do I have the heat kicked up so high? Do you not see it is thirty degrees below zero? I'm not going anywhere; if you want to go to the store, you know where it is.

Age 32: Is this a sign we weren't supposed to move out of the city? Been in our home for a month and an ice storm hits. My car gets stuck in a ditch twice on the way home, plus a neighbor has to tow me up the hill, due to all the ice on the road. Maybe we need to move farther south....

Age 33: Now this is my kind of winter! Snowed during Christmas Break, and melted right after New Year's!

Age 45: Gah! Where did all this ICE come from? Thankful my new employer doesn't like it anymore than I do, and is letting me stay home. Conversely, on the 'warmer' days, I go in and enjoy the solitude for five hours, knowing the spouse will be back to bring me lunch or pick me up at closing time.

Future Winter: Please adhere to the following guidelines:
-Temps not dipping below thirty (I'd say 50, but let's be realistic...)
-Snow fall not exceeding one inch per snowstorm; otherwise, please melt within 24 hours.
-Absolutely no thick ice.
-If you must snow, please do it in time for either the schools to declare 2 hour delay or close all together. Or on a morning where the spouse is willing to get up and do the driving.
-A light dusting of snow is always appreciated on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning....but not enough to hinder travel plans.
-Please, no temps below 50 after St. Patrick's Day? And certainly not any time during the month of May! I prefer Race Day (Indy 500) to be filled with sunshine and high 80's:)

I'm Winter's Bitch

2012-01-21T23:35:00.002-05:00

I love winter. I love the snow and being able to wear sweaters, sweatshirts and hand knit scarves. I love to sit inside all snuggly warm writing or reading while it's snowing like mad outside. I used to have a snow globe that sat on my desk year round that was given to me as a gift because I'd once said that when it snows I'm happy and that person wanted me to be happy all of the time. Sadly, the person who gave me that snow globe no longer cares about my happiness and I couldn't even tell you where the snow globe ended up. LOL But my point is that I always loved winter.

My driveway after the first big snow in December.

Now a days though winter and I don't exactly get along. I still love the snow and all the crap I mentioned above. But for the past couple of years I've been dealing with this weird mystery illness of mine that pretty much makes winter a living hell for me now. When the temps are at freezing or below (it's 10 fucking degrees where I am right now. Ten.) every joint in my body hurts. I find it hard to do basically anything because everything hurts. Walking, typing, standing up, lying down... everything. It's like the cold seeps into my joints and freezes everything so that I'm like the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz when he's all rusted up.

I'vebeen tested for Lupus, Fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Osteoarthritis and a bunch of other stuff but my doctor can't figure out why I have this pain. It's definitely better when I'm warm and in warm weather, but even then I still deal with it. Basically it sucks. I have my good days and then my awful days. Most days are somewhere in between where I'm good for a portion of the day and then it hits me and I feel like I'm about 90 years old. Right now my back is screaming at me and my shoulders are so tensed up they feel like they're on fire. It's ridiculous at my age to have so much pain, and yet I do.

So yeah, winter for me is a bit of a bittersweet thing. On one hand I still love it and it still makes me smile, but on the other hand it literally hurts me. I still get excited when I hear there's a big storm headed our way and when people who live here in the Mitten bitch about winter I roll my eyes because it annoys the fuck out of me. I mean come on... sure it's annoying at times, but you live in Michigan! It's going to get ass numbing cold here and you know it! It's also going to snow here, so acting like it's the end of the freaking world because it's doing exactly what it's supposed to do in winter is just silly to me.

I truly do love winter... I just hate what it does to my body.

This is the view from my bathroom... how can you not love that?

Brilliantly Bad Verse

2012-01-20T00:01:00.000-05:00

Winter

Oh winter…
Your icy days beckon all summer.
You tease me with each frosty autumn morn.
Your crystalline flurries dusting the lawn.
Your lacy etchings on each glass pane.

Oh the promises you make…
Sugar-coated devilry,
Clouding our true memories:
Gray dismal skies the heavy price.
Days on end of slush and ice.
Biting cold to peel off the skin.
Drifts and slips and terror-filled spins.
Ditches, snow days,
Scraping and sneezing.
Layering clothes,
But still icy toed.
Frozen pipes.
Invasions by mice.
Boot melt-off,
Soaks our socks.
Heating bills soar.
Icicles form.
Dreaming…
Of the warm…

Is it spring, yet?

2012-01-19T00:34:00.001-05:00

One of the things I love most about Michigan is the fact that we have four seasons. Granted, D's right, sometimes it seems more like two. Mostly, it's two super long ones and two far too short ones. But I love the transition from one season to another. There's something about the rhythm of the changes that makes me smile.

However, this post isn't about how I feel about seasons.

It's about how I feel about winter.

Huge, heaving sigh...

You know when I like winter?

From about Thanksgiving day until New Year's Day.

It can snow as much as it wants from the end of Thanksgiving to the beginning of January, then it needs to knock it the hell off.

Unfortunately, this isn't how Michigan rolls.

It's all about snow and ice and cold and more snow and ice and cold. It's about treacherous driving conditions, slipping on icy sidewalks and people that can't drive for shit.

Granted, the snow is pretty. And I wouldn't mind it so much if I could just watch it come down from the warmth and comfort of my couch.

But since that's not an option, I'm desperately hoping for spring.

An Ode To Winter

2012-01-18T04:28:00.003-05:00

From
Up North
Comes a
Killer cold front

You're not going to school
Or work again today
Unbelievable

We Michiganders know
Its
Never going to get better
Two seasons is all we
Ever get. Hot and
Really fucking cold.

XoXoXo
D

Winter In My...

2012-01-16T07:14:00.004-05:00

I'm pretty sure there poems, stories, odes, and epics dedicated to winter. This probably doesn't count. The first heavy snowfall of winter, where everything is layered in a white downy blanket is gorgeous and I'm itching to get my camera out and take pictures. Then I either have to walk in it or drive it, then it's not so pretty. And after the rest of the city drives in it, it's grey and slippery and just plain ick.
Like I said, there is some breathtaking scenery in the state, great for the muse and the imagination. It's just freakin' cold.

As pretty as it is, I absolutely hate driving in it. I'd rather just stay home where it's warm, look at how pretty it is through the window and let someone else drive.

Simone

"Our House Was A The Four-Legged Zoo...."

2012-01-15T03:30:00.000-05:00

LOL....not really:) We just keep acquiring animals....

Roxie, our 10-y/o Cocker Spaniel. We acquired her in 2009, after euthanizing our 14-y/o German Shepherd Keisha and after the death of our 11-y/o Norwegian Elkhound Shadow. I don't have any pics of these two on my laptop, nor of the six cats we had from 1991-2005. RIP Smokey, Rosey, Tag-A-Long, Gizmo, Tiger, and Fluffy.

Cheyenne, 3-y/o our 'German Rott Bull Chow'....she came to live with us a year ago when the daughter saw her at the local shelter.

Amelia, the baby bunny the cat brought home in 2009. We 'rescued' her and kept her for about two weeks, before returning her to the backyard.

Lucky, my black lab whom we rescued from the neighbor in 2000. She survived being threatened with euthanasia by said neighbor; being run over by another neighbor's truck; and once we moved to our current home, slipped off her chain and took many runs around the neighborhood. In 2010, she was losing bladder control, and after many treatments with medication, said a tearful goodbye to her right before my oldest son's graduation.

Mikey, the rat. Son K insisted he wanted a couple of domesticated rats in April 2008, and they provided us with hours of entertainment! Here they are one day when we turned them loose on the porch. Mikey decided to try to get into the toy truck....

Pinky investigated the cat's food.....

And since I never got footage of the 'Pinky/Mikey/Oreo Comedy Hour', here is our cat Oreo tolerating Pinky trying to play with him!

And how many cats would tolerate being read to?

Youngling found Oreo in the park on New Years Eve 2008, and brought him home. He was a tiny, barely weaned kitten who quickly won everyone over with his calm demeanor, and even let the rats 'beat up' on him. We didn't think he knew he was a cat until a year later, when he began bringing home 'presents' for us on the front porch....various mice, birds, and even a baby bunny!

So the grand total from 1991-2012:

Dogs: 5

Cats: 7

Rats: 2

Bunny: 1

And I would be remiss in not mentioning kitty Simon, who tried to adopt us, but we ended up giving him to some friends. Unfortunately, two days later, the most agressive of J's dogs took a dislike to the tiny kitten and he is now buried in her back yard. The dog who instigated the senseless attack was euthanized six months later. I still tear up whenever I think of both Simon and Lucky pup.

But on a lighter note, it's never a dull moment around here! Roxie gets me up every morning at 6 (earlier if no one lets her outside at bedtime) and Oreo is usually ready to come inside for his breakfast. So they have a system, and it gets me out of bed in the mornings, even on Thursdays after being at karaoke until 2am!

Down on the Farm

2012-01-14T14:02:00.000-05:00

I literally live on a farm. We're not farmers by any means but our house is on 99 acres of farm land that someone else owns and someone else takes care of (thankfully). We do however have our own little furry farm inside of the house. :)

First there's Kira... she's my baby. She's 10 years old and a total diva. She literally doesn't like anyone but me. I don't blame her though, she spent the first few years of her life as an only child (the hamsters Edgar and Myrtle didn't really count since they were in a cage) so she was The One and Only for quite some time. Then I moved home and she had to deal with other animals and she hated it. She's come around enough that she'll let my mother touch her, if and only if she's in the mood though. :) We often refer to her as The Kitteh Upstairs because she doesn't come to the first floor of the house thanks to the dogs.

She's not all that found of my nook or other items that steal my attention.

Pretending to be a Victoria's Secret model. :)

Then there's Kia... We're not sure how old she is because she belonged to someone else before we got her. Technically she's my Grandpa's cat but now that he lives with us, she's ours now too. We couldn't figure out why she always had her tongue hanging out when she lived with my Grandpa... turns out the poor thing doesn't have teeth! Toothless is also a pro at opening cupboards and drawers in the kitchen, she makes her own fun. :)

She talks with a lisp.

Katie is my mom's dog. She's a Scottie and she's 7 years old. She's a little overweight and has only had one professional haircut so she often looks like a wookie or a warthog but she's a love muffin. Thanks to her brother Alex (see below) who tripped her when she was on the stairs once she won't go up or down stairs on her own (unless they're the stairs to the yard). Therefore this happy little tub of chub has to be carried like a princess upstairs for bed and downstairs in the morning.

One of her Good Hair Days when she actually looked like a Scottie.

She's also a belly rub whore who will roll on her back as soon as ANYONE walks in the house. Doesn't matter if she's met them before or not. :)

Alex is a special boy. Special in the way that if he were a human he's probably have an IEP in school. He's an 8 year old Cocker Spaniel Spazoid and also belongs to my mom. He's afraid of thunder, fireworks, wind, my camera, the vaccum, newspapers, and scissors (because he knows we use them to trim his hair LOL). Despite all of his weirdness though, he's a sweet boy who often forgets he's a dog and likes to sit like a human or walk around on the back of the couch like a cat.

He was totally giving me the Stink Eye because my camera scared him. LOL dork.

Sly is my boy that I inherited from my brother's friend who no longer wanted him. I totally wasn't planning on keeping him but he showed up (about 3 months old at the time) and I couldn't NOT love him. He's 5 now and is by far the biggest cat in the house. His original name was Sly Cooper after the video game (two little boys named him) but he's known around here as Sly Boy. We started calling him Meow Meow because when he talks he almost always meows twice. That somehow turned into Mr. Meow Meow and then we decided that he also has a French alter-ego named Monsiour Mew Mew. (Yes, we speak for our animals around here...). When he's Mew Mew he speaks with a French accent and believes he's quite the lover-man. He's pretty much afraid of anything that moves suddenly (like Kira hiding under a blanket to attack him).

Last but not least is Lola. She's actually not ours and doesn't live with us, but she belongs to my best friend who lives next door. I call my best friend my wife, so technically Lola's my step daughter. She looks so much like Kira that we joke that they're somehow related but honestly they're not. Her full name is Princess Lola Jasmine Bombay (lol) and she looooves when I come over with yarn. :)

I have many a photoshoot with Lola, she's a great subject and doesn't move too much!

And that's it!

I can haz kittehs?

2012-01-12T00:34:00.002-05:00

It should surprise no one here, that I'm a cat person. I like dogs just fine, but there are very few I'd ever want to live with. The only dog I'd consider living with is Brynn's. I do love that puppy-girl. :) I'm lucky because hubby's a cat person, too.

We currently have five cats. Yeah, I know...it's a lot, but they're all rescues and I wouldn't trade any of them.This is Willow challenging Corwin to a game of chess shortly after we got her. She and her sister Morrighan are two and a half now. We'd gone to the Humane Society to adopt one kitten, but they were doing a two for one deal and Matt pointed out that splitting up the girls would be like splitting up me and Cait. Have I mentioned that I love that man?

Morrighan curled up in the kitty catcher.

Willow and Morrighan lounging on the table.
This is Angus. He's 12. A neighbor kid brought him over when he was a terrified kitten and asked me to take care of him because some other kids were swinging them around by his tail. I made almost 20 calls trying to find a place for him, but by the time I'd exhausted my options with no takers, he was curled up sleeping on Matt's chest and Matt told me he thought the kitty had already found his home.
The arm of the couch is Angus' favorite place to lay.

This is Rowan. He's 16 and a half. As a five week old kitten he was rescued from the middle of horribly busy four lane road (28th street for the locals) and we adopted him shortly after. Unfortunately, we just found out that he's got kidney cancer with metastatic spots in his lungs. It's not a painful cancer and he's still the happy, loving cat he's always been, so we're just enjoying this time with him while he's comfortable, and when he's not...we'll deal with that then.
Rowan and Herne.
This is Herne. He'll be 19 on May 11th. He's nearly blind, I'm pretty sure he's deaf. He finds his way through the house yowling - we're convinced it's Kitty Sonar. But he's loving and happy and ridiculously healthy. He's got his grumpy old man moments when he discovers someone's sitting in "his" chair, but he's still the ultimate lap kitty.

In fact, this is how I do most of my work - with Herne draped over my keyboard.

While I'm not a fan of cat hair in my keyboard, or stepping in cat puke, I wouldn't trade this kind of unconditional love for anything.

*Pout

2012-01-11T04:18:00.000-05:00

I don't have furrys. :(

My husband is allergic to cats so we can't have any. And I'm not that big of a fan of dogs. Yeah, I said it. I mean, I don't hate them. But I'm a cat girl. I like their attitudes and their aloofness and their tendency to take care of themselves for the most part. Dogs are so damn needy. I already have a husband and two kids, I don't need more neediness in my life, thanks.

So for now I'll just amuse myself by looking at pictures of the kind of furry I would like to have in my life.

Four-Legged Fur Babies!!!

2012-01-09T19:20:00.006-05:00

In August of 2010 a friend of mine posted pictures of the most adorable kittens - foundlings - some idiot had the nerve to drop them off in a box in the middle of the railroad tracks - they were maybe 3 weeks old. I fell in love with one of them immediately and much to my family's dismay, I brought one home.

Tuarwen - Her name is Elvish for Noble Strength

Here she is looking at the camera - it was love at first sight.

She took over my sewing basket - well one of them.

This past August a friend of mine said asked if I wanted her brandy-new kitten because there were unforseen complications. I agreed. She came pre-named Cleo, otherwise we would have named her Castiel (Gentle) or Sidhiel (Peace) - because well, I like Elves (although Faeries and Dragons are pretty cool too) and she has a gentle heart and soul except when it comes to her food bowl.

I think this was about month after we brought her home.

I'm pretty sure she had help climbing up into the basket, she's not much of a climber, she prefers warm spots like blankets and quilts. :)

I need more pictures of my furbabies. They chase each other through the house at about 6am at warp 10, but then they do cute things like cuddle together. :)

Simone

Over Indulging....And Paying For It!

2012-01-08T03:30:00.000-05:00

There's an upside and a downside to the month of December.

The good things:
-I spend the entire month baking homemade cookies
-There are three birthdays and two major holidays, so food is plenty:)
-This year, I also had a book release, and was anticipating a second.
- I also decided to make my own candy this year.

The bad things:
-See above.

In all fairness, I only dip into the cookie dough during the first batch or the second (did I mention I LOVE raw chocolate-chip cookie dough?) and I bake while the kids are in school, so the cooled ones can be stored away from their hungry little mouths. And keeping the spouse out of the them is a chore also...which is another reason I have to make so many. I give them away to teachers, crossing guards, special friends, etc. And after the first two batches, the dough loses its appeal (shocking, I know! Seriously, sugar overload? Can it really exist?)

So I expect to put on a few pounds.

But knowing the cookies weren't going to be as plentiful as in years past, I decided to dip my finger into the homemade candies. We had bricks of almond bark, and I love chocolate covered pretzels, so seriously, how hard would it be to try making peanut butter cups and cute chocolate shapes?

A lot more labor-intensive than it sounds! And of course, who can resist melted chocolate? After all, I had to TASTE it to see if it was the right temperature; I had to TASTE my final product, to make sure people would like it; and oh yes...I just couldn't scrape the last of the chocolate into the trash, because....well, you just DON'T! If there's a spoonful left in the bowl, and you've filled your molds, you can't just put one character in the freezer; you eat the chocolate because one lonely chocolate character all by himself in the mold is too much like being the last person standing after the school yard pick. Get my meaning?

And yes, it was a shock two days after Christmas when I realized I could not fasten my good jeans and expect to breathe while sitting down. Thankfully, we were just lounging around Grandma's house, and no one cared if Kenzie walked around with her jeans unzipped and a large sweater covering it all up.

I've never been one of those 'lose weight' people, but I think it's finally happened: Metabolism shutdown at age 46. I shall HAVE to get off my butt and exercise more. And stop eating what's left of my white and milk chocolate dinosaurs!

"I, Kenzie Michaels, do solemnly swear to lay off the sweets, cut down on the pasta, and watch my total carb intake. I do go to the doctor next week for my physical, and I'm not looking forward to seeing how much weight I've gained since that 7 lb loss back in October...."

Again, in all fairness, injury kept me from my walking routine in October, and I could go out and resume my route, but temps are going to dip into the 30's again later this week, and why start something you know is only going to last 3 days?

And isn't it against the law to let good chocolate go to waste? That will be my Lent goal: To only eat half of the bad-for-my-hips chocolate and pasta, plus the temps should be rising again....now if the rain stays away so I can walk at least four days a week....

So in the meantime...(reaching for a chocolate Santa)...I'm an adult; I admit I'm a chocoholic and a carboholic and in six weeks, I'll make every effort to counteract my holiday indulgences!

This doesn't mean I have to give up my chocolate wine every month, does it?

Indulgences... I have a lot.

2012-01-07T23:04:00.000-05:00

I don't know... maybe I have the wrong idea about indulgences. I don't just have a few things that I indulge in every so often, I have lots of little things that I indulge in all of the time. I think it probably has to do with the fact that I live with clinical depression. But I like to have things around me that make me happy and I like to have them around at all times so that when I'm having a bad day or bad moment I can look around and see something that gives me warm fuzzies.

If you were to look at my desk at work you’dfind things like a Kermit Pez dispenser, a frog dressed up as a fairy, a Buckinghampalace guard who is also a frog, Smurf figurines, tons of pictures, fun pens,and quotes or silly sayings I’ve posted on my wall. I don’t need any of those things in order todo my job each day, but they make me happy so I want them there. When I grab a pen out of the cup that I gotat the Bad Ass Coffee Shop in Orlando, I think of being there in my HappyPlace. When I use a pen that has a greatbig Kermit face on the end of it, I smile because he’s my little greenboyfriend and I love him longtime.

Other indulgences I have include Starbucks, Biggby (whenthere isn’t a Starbucks around), good hand lotion, body butter ,awesome pens(don’t steal my pens!), fun coffee mugs, McDonald’s Coke (I like to call it LiquidCrack), yarn (so much yarn!), art supplies, office supplies, planners, andbooks… so many, many books!

Indulgences of the Eye Candy sort include Joe Manganeillowho is currently playing the starring role in just about everything I writebecause he’s just so damn delicious. Thenthere’s Rooney Mara because she was freaking brilliant in The Girl with the Dragon Tattooand I have a serious crush on her.

I could go on for days talking about my indulgences,really. Instead, I give you pictures ofJoe and Rooney.

Have a great week!

Indulge me...seriously, pass the damn chips

2012-01-05T00:34:00.001-05:00

Some days feel like they're nothing but wall to wall indulgences and other days feel like they're all about deprivation. For whatever reason, I don't seem to do moderation well. At all.

I really need to work on that.

But since this blog is supposed to be about indulgences and not the fact that I can't seem to balance for shit, we'll stick with the indulgences in their myriad categories.

There are the typical indulgences - dark chocolate truffles, blackberry wine, pomegranates, coke, salt and vinegar chips, baklava, Starbucks and mid-day naps. Sadly, only the naps and pomegranates are any good for me, but I suppose that's why they're indulgences.

Then there are the tactile indulgences - new fabric in fabulous colors and textures, cross stitching, playing with clay or relaxing by a big body of water. Oh yeah, I'm also a major jewelry whore. It's true, I like pretty things. So I suppose that's a check in the indulgence box.

There are also brain indulgences - playing on Pinterest, reading a great new book or an old favorite, or watching any of my favorite TV shows/Movies (Supernatural, Firefly, Once Upon a Time, Buffy, Dr. Who, Serenity, Star Wars, LoTR, Labyrinth, Willow, The Princess Bride ) Hmmmm...I'm looking at what I named this category and for the most part, they're not so much brain indulgences as "I need a break from my brain" indulgences. But hey, whatever works. Sometimes you just need to take a break from reality, and some days, that's the best indulgence of all.

And on that note, I think it's time to cue up Serenity...

Indulgence?

2012-01-04T07:08:00.003-05:00

Oh yeah. I indulge in procrastination all the time. It's not a healthy or good indulgence in any way. It keeps me from writing books. It keeps me from doing laundry. It keeps me from doing so many things that I would be so much better off just getting over with.

But I don't. I sit on my ass and watch TV or play fishing games on the Wii. I read books instead of finishing them. In fact, I have a WIP due to my editor soon. All that's left is about eight pages to go. But what am I doing? I'm not writing those pages that's for sure. No, I'm here. At least I can pretend this is being productive. I'm pre-posting the blog. That's good right? Right? It is. But it's not what I SHOULD be doing.

I did do laundry today, so that's something at least. Of course, that was a necessity because I return to normal work life tomorrow and had NO clean clothes at all. And since I think I may have already worn all of my work pants twice already, laundry had to be done.

I've been indulging in food lately too. But that ends tonight. I indulge in smoking, but that is also supposed to end tonight. Starting tomorrow I join the millions of people who promise to ring in 2012 with the no smoking/healthy lifestyle kick. The difference between me and them? I am going to pull it off. I've procrastinated on quitting smoking for far too long. I promised my dad I would quit and it is high time I come through on that promise.

As for the healthy living, I like being 26 pounds lighter. I believe I will like being ANOTHER 26 pounds lighter even more. So tomorrow I get back on the regular vitamin taking, stop eating out so much, STOP EATING CHRISTMAS CANDY, and try to get a couple vegetables into my diet every day. (Hello Subway sandwiches.)

But procrastination? I don't see that dirty little bitch going away any time soon. Oh, I'll get the books done. I have no choice. This one comes out in April. It has to be done. It has a freakin' cover. No backing out now. But I'll probably start working on that tomorrow.

XoXoXo
Dakot

Insane Fetishes That Make You Feel Normal

2012-01-03T19:28:00.004-05:00

I think it's pretty clear what my indulgences are, by this point. I'm not even sure if I should call them indulgences, because indulgence implies something you only do a little bit and I don't do stuff in little bits.

If I like jelly turtles, I eat enough jelly turtles to turn my blood green. I'm like Spock, if Spock was made a Vulcan by eating jelly turtles.

Same goes for other stuff, too. If I get into knitting, I knit so much that my bedroom starts to resemble a woolen harem. Veils everywhere, only they're veils you can't really see through unless you press your face up really close and look through the little gaps.

I think I've got an addictive personality. Though mostly luckily for me, my addictions are usually pretty harmless. I mean, I've got a giant ass from all the jelly turtles, but at least I'm not one of those people on My Weird Problems, who can't stop tanning themselves and now look like they recently came back from vacation on the Sun.

Or how about those ones who like eating sofa cushions? I swear to God, I've never eaten a sofa cushion in my life! I don't even suck my hair, because I heard that one time this girl sucked her hair and she died and when they cut her open they found a hairball as big as a banana in her kidneys. Or her lung. Or maybe I just exaggerated that whole thing and it was really just a brussel sprout sized hairball in her stomach that caused her no dying type problems at all.

But either way - I think I'm still doing good. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't do any drugs. So you know...if I want to indulge in some serious jelly turtle eating, once in a while, I think I'm okay.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Would you watch an episode of This One Odd Thing I Do, if it was about a jelly turtle addict?

Indulging Me -

2012-01-02T07:00:00.000-05:00

An indulgence to me is something that isn't done regularly and might be of a fantasy type nature - or really rich in taste/design/whatever that is outside the realm of the everyday. But, it's also something that can be a reward for a job well done.

I'm a firm believer in personal rewards, but there are things that I indulge in - treats to myself. There are also things I don't do - like denying myself certain foods. I'm not a big fan diets (prefer lifestyle choices) or forbidding food - so if I want a candy bar, I get it. If I'm in the mood for ice cream when I go grocery shopping I get it. I just make sure to buy a smaller quantity of something my daughter and I bother like, because otherwise, I'll throw half to 3/4's of it away. This way, I'm hopefully, also teaching my daughter that food is not a reward/denial system, which will hopefully keep her from having huge weight issues.

Instead, I indulge myself with trips to friends, fabric, and cross stitch, beading, or scrapbooking stuff - or some really cool, but unnecessary house decor type things. This year though, my indulgence may also be going to RT and painting my office - once I reclaim, it is also a family vacation. As time passes, things that were indulgences aren't any more and are replaced by something new.

2011 Was A Challenge; Time To Tackle 2012

2012-01-01T03:30:00.000-05:00

Sorry for disappearing this past week; my last remaining grandparent passed away Christmas Day and this week has been a blur. As I type and pre-post this, I'm not even sure what day it is, lol!

Let's see; I didn't set any goals last year and published 3 books....wonder what I'll accomplish if I actually write this year's down? I'll have all of you to hold me accountable...(Kenzie ducks and runs behind the door....)

(Peeking out) Okay; I'll be adult about it, even though I only technically turn four in two months....:)

This year I resolve to:
-Keep with my walking program and shrink back into my blue jeans (I've overindulged slightly this past month and couldn't fasten my jeans on the 26th-hangs head and looks sheepish).

-De-clutter my house. Seriously. With two deaths in the family the past two years, my basement is piled high with boxes and furniture. Time to tamp down the sentimentality and get rid of some things. Do I really need to hang on to ALL of my MIL's angel and cherub knick-knacks? My childhood Coors and Budweiser mugs? All those baby clothes? Okay....no to the first and yes to the other two....we are expecting a little bundle of joy (cough) in June and will need those cute newborn onezies and sleepers....and the mugs are collector items (don't yell at me!).

-Finish my zombie story (oh, you didn't know I'd wandered into strange territory? Think Walking Dead meets Warehouse 13 meets who-knows-what-at-this-point!) and several other wips. And as for my alter-ego, get a jump-start on self-edits for books 5-7 so she can get back to work on books 8-12.

-Publish three more books, plus the two already slated for release in January, making a total of five (I'm getting ambitious, aren't I?) and sign contracts for three more, plus for whatever books I finish (confused yet? Don't worry; you're not alone!)

-Join my sister and her family in Orlando next August. It's time the youngling visits Disney (he was there at age 3 months) plus I want to revisit the Tampa/St. Pete area.

-Move into a better home. With my daughter expecting, we need another bedroom and another bathroom. Plus have an insulated house which isn't threatening to fall down at any given minute.

-Attend one or two conferences. I'm tired of reading about everyone else's fun and want to join in:) Beginning with driving up for the booksigning in Chicago at RT. Lori Foster's. The one in Louisville. And yes, (gasp!) RomantiCon and maybe the Grand Rapids one someone told me about....I think she's a contributor to this lovely blog.....;)

I think seven is ambitious enough for now, don't you think?

Happy New Year!!!!

Bring it on, 2012!

2011-12-31T18:24:00.001-05:00

I'm not one to make resolutions but this year has been a pretty different year so I might as well do one more new thing, right? :) Most of these have to do with writing because I really need to set more writing goals.

1. I will finish the two fanfics that I still have going so that I can work on other things without feeling guilty that I'm neglecting my readers.

2. I will blog weekly here and at least once a week over on my blog Coffee and Prozac too because it's hopelessly neglected.

3. I will commit to writing creatively three times a week. Hopefully that'll turn into more but at least three is a good start. :)

4. I'll continue to step out of my box especially with writing oportunites like the GR writing group.

5. I want to continue to lose weight and get healthier so I never see my heaviest weight like I did last summer. Also to cook more at home now that I have an awesome kitchen again!

6. I still want to learn to crochet too, damn it. :) Everyone says it's easier than knitting and I've been doing that for years.

7. I'll do things and surround myself with people who make me happy!

Happy New Year!

Plans. I've Got 'Em

2011-12-29T00:34:00.000-05:00

I've got all kinds of plans for this year, and for the most part I think they're pretty realistic.

First and foremost, I plan to enjoy my sons' last year of high school and junior high - I don't want to be too busy to miss out on these moments because everything is going to be changing soon.

I plan to incorporate healthier life style choices - yes, this means exercise and doing away with bad for me food choices.

I plan to finish my young adult novel.

I plan to finish the books on my schedule and enjoy writing them.

I plan to attend and help host several writing related events and I plan to enjoy them - not freak out over them.

I plan to take time to do things away from the computer - like more pottery and sewing.

I plan to be grateful for all of the amazing people and opportunities in my life.

(Okay, that last one was kinda a gimmee since I'm already feeling pretty damn grateful.)

Best Laid Plans

2011-12-28T05:31:00.002-05:00

I think that I will plan to survive 2012. Mayans or no, it's a pretty safe bet that I will be back here in a year to discuss how I've done on my plans for the year with a big ass check mark in the SURVIVE category.

In other news, I would like to accomplish the following things in the coming year.

1. Write and release 8 - 10 new books. This is a big deal for me because I don't usually like to put a number on my writing. I prefer to just let the stories come and write what I'm given by the muse. But I think my muse is ready to kick this shit into gear and crank out some stories. So I'm going to be pushing her to the limit to give me plots that I can go forth and create stories around.

2. Continue with the healthier lifestyle I've started this year. Though as I'm typing this all I can think of is the bag of mint M & M's I have hidden in the cupboard in the kitchen. In fact, I think I will go snag some. What the hell, it's the holidays. I have a whole year to work off the calories, right?

3. Actually quit smoking. No really. I'd really like to do it this year. Maybe I could replace smoking with more exercise and kill two plans with one stone.

4. Spend more time with friends. This one is actually the most important of all of my plans. I need to make more of an effort to spend time with the people that I care about. It's difficult, since so many of them live so far away. But I miss my friends terribly and I would like nothing more than to see them many, many times in 2012.

What plans (or resolutions if you like) do you have for the coming year?

XoXoXo
D

Full Of Cake

2011-12-27T17:22:00.002-05:00

These are my plans for 2012:

1. Not failing at life quite so much.

2. Plan my writing better so that I don't go temporarily blind or insane.

3. Not commit myself to every little writing thing because GASP someone actually ASKED me to write summat! I have to do it! How ungrateful would I be if I DIDN'T???

4. Try not to panic so much about things that are never that big a deal anyway.

5. Do more knitting. I made a little bug out of this kit Husband gave me for Christmas! It worked and everything!

6. Read more. It relaxes me and improves my brain.

7. Walk every day because when I don't my body rebels. It gives me headaches as punishment. "You didn't take me out for a walk, today," it says, and then prods me in the brain with a big stick.

8. Submit proposals to agent even though I am terrified out of my mind and that's already breaking rule 4.

And those are my plans for this year. I could list some more but it's my birthday and I'm all drowsy and full of cake.

In 2012 I Promise Myself...

2011-12-26T07:00:00.000-05:00

A plan or resolution or even a goal is really like a promise. So, in essence, saying "I plan on" or "this year I resolve to" is really like making a promise to yourself.

I started a new job this past October and there is a saying on one of the white boards "A goal without action is just a dream" and I find it somewhat, not entirely, but somewhat accurate. Everything starts with a dream or an idea. It takes goals, hard work, and determination to make a dream a reality.

For 2012, I Promise myself that I will -

- write 2000 words everyday
- write, finish, and submit 6-8 books (at least, ideally I'd like to finish closer to 12 though)
- set up writing plan
- set up writing schedule
- complete business plan
- write something new

I look forward to seeing everyone else's plans for 2012!

Enjoy,

Simone

To You And All Your Families.....

2011-12-25T03:30:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas everyone:)

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord..." Luke 2:11 (RSV)

My wish this year is for everyone to have a safe and happy holiday season!

Holiday Wishes

2011-12-24T11:39:00.001-05:00

For the holidays I wish that you're surrounded with love, happiness, friends, family and amazing plot ideas!

Smootches!
Kel

My Wish for Everyone

2011-12-22T00:34:00.000-05:00

My wish is that everyone have enough.

Enough love, enough warmth, enough money, enough food, enough happiness, enough peace, enough acceptance, enough kindness, enough joy, enough laughter.

My hope is that everyone who does have enough will share what they have - whether it's the kindness of a smile or a donated meal or a gift. Enough always seems to grow into more.

No matter what you celebrate, I hope this time of year is full of the people and things that make you happy. Wishing you all joy, laughter and a sense of wonder at the beauty found in surprising places.
Happy Holidays! Peace and Love to All!

Visions of Sugar Plums

2011-12-21T05:39:00.000-05:00

XoXoXo
D

The Rubbish Version

2011-12-20T18:32:00.003-05:00

As Simone did such a beautiful season's greetings thingie for her post, I thought I'd do my own version.

Yeah, it's not really the same, is it. You probably can't even tell what most of that stuff is supposed to be. Though if anyone can guess, I will give them extra holiday cheer! Hooray!

Merry Christmas, everybody!

Season's Greetings

2011-12-19T07:00:00.001-05:00

Proud

2011-12-18T17:01:00.000-05:00

So not only am I late in posting this, buthad I actually planned ahead I would have realized that last week’s post prettymuch went over what I was supposed to say this week. That’s pretty much how things have been goingfor me lately though. I don’t know if I’mfalling into my annual Christmas Funk, a lovely side effect of clinicaldepression, if I’m experiencing a post vacation let down, or maybe I’m just rundown thanks to the cold from hell I’ve had for a few weeks. Who knows, but it’s been kind a of acraptacular weekend so my apologies for my lateness.

Like I mentioned last week, I’m proud of alot of things this year. I’ve steppedfurther out of my shyness than I have in a long time, and I’ve actuallysurvived! I’ve reconnected with old writing friends and made new ones aswell. I joined this most awesome blogtoo and am really enjoying getting to know everyone here.

In terms of family, I have some prettyspectacular monsters to be proud of. Mybaby brother, Peanut, is sixteen years old and a Junior in High School. He’s not quite as shy as I am, but he’sdefinitely got a little bit of the shy gene. This year though he joined the choir at his school (his first time in achoir) and at his very first concert sang an amazing solo during one of thesongs. I cried through the whole thingand then cried again all of the way home because I was so proud of him fordoing something that I’ve never had the guts to do myself.

My middle nephew, Bubba, is eight years oldand is so good at reading that he’s currently reading the last Harry Potterbook. This warms my heart because I’vetried so hard to get my brother’s kids and my baby brother into reading. My little brother likes to read but doesn’tlove it yet, but Bubba seems to be falling in love with it. In fact, he’s a better reader than his oldersister. I simply love finding new booksto share with him!

My niece, Boo, is eleven and after strugglingwith school for the past couple of years has finally found a school setting sheenjoys. She’s at a charter school thatfocuses on the Arts and although she still struggled with things like reading,she can actually say she likes school again. She’s totally into drawing and art, which is another love of my own, andseeing her find confidence makes me so happy!

Then of course there’s my Doodlebutt, myyoungest nephew who is simply the coolest five year old in the world. Since starting Kindergarten this fall he’sstarted learning to read, he’s dealt successfully with a bully who is now hisfriend, and he’s also learned how to beat box. LOL I’m proud of him every singleday just because he’s so incredibly creative and his spirit makes me smile.

I can’t possible do a post on pride withouttalking about my mom. Not only is sheone of my best friends and someone who I look up to all the time (despite thefact that she’s shorter than me, hehe), but she’s someone who I’m extremelyproud of. This year she busted her assworking on her nursing degree and was about 13 weeks away from her RN when shemade a very difficult decision. She andI moved from the city into an old farm house and moved in her father who is 96years old and has severe dementia. Aftermoving Gramps into our house, it was very clear that attending full timenursing school simply wasn’t going to work. Taking care of him is truly a full time job. He’d been living alone up until this year andwas definitely not safe anymore.

He has his good days and his bad ones, butbecause my mom and I are the only people in the family willing to actually getoff our asses and do something to help, all of his care falls in our lap. I work full time which leaves my mom at homewith Gramps all day long. It’s been ahuge life change for all of us. I’mhappy to say though that after a few months of getting used to having Grampsaround, my mom is considering finishing up that last semester of school in the NewYear. When she decided to stop schoolshe was content with the fact that she could still get her LPN and continue todo what she loves and make more money doing it, but the RN was so darn closethat I’m sure it stung a little. Eitherway I’m damn proud of her, this is not by any means her first career and she’scontinuing to pursue it because she loves it.

So yeah… it’s been a difficult year but apretty good one too with lots of good things to think back on. Let’s hope 2012 is even better!

In The Name Of Love

2011-12-18T03:30:00.000-05:00

If you're a U2 fan, you'll understand the title in a few minutes:)

I had to dig deep for this week's topic, as it's been a rough year. I can't pinpoint any one thing I'm proud of, so I'll go by family members.

SU: He finally conceded he wasn't going back to work and applied for his Early Retirement. This admission enabled us to no longer worry about when his unemployment benefits would run out and we would finally be on a workable budget. And his first check coincided with the arrival of my sister and her family, so I was able to enjoy spending time with them instead of worrying about our banking account balance.

Stepdaughter: After a summer of being homeless and undecided about her future, everything came together in August when she found work at an amazon.com warehouse. And has steadily rose from temp to hire to Safety Coordinator in the past four months. She now has a new apartment and her kids are Very Happy with their new school:)

College Kid: He's had a tough two months. He'd lost his best friend in a freak health-care incident and got behind in two of his core courses. When he was home for Thanksgiving, his Plan B was to drop out of college and come home for a year. But now he's decided to change his major and is looking forward to becoming a HS Math teacher, rather than Aviation Technology. Yes, his dream of working for NASA one day came to a screeching halt this year.

Daughter: S has had a particularly turbulent year. She began dating a guy who we fervently hoped would prove our first impression wrong; this was not the case and we nearly had a rebellious runaway on our hands. Thankfully, she decided cooperating with Mom and Dad was the best course of action. And I'm really proud of the fact she finally had enough of him two weeks ago and ended all contact. The bad news is, she wised up three months too late. And will now have a permanent reminder when her child arrives in June.

Youngling: Despite entering 2nd grade still not knowing how to read, his teacher brought it to our attention that maybe his issue wasn't a learning disability (we were having him tested for dyslexia), but was ADD. We had him evaluated and put on meds. In the past two months, my baby has learned to read and brought home a test paper with a 67%, but a note was attached: He's read it himself! No more tests with notes saying 'Test was read to him'! If this continues, hopefully we won't have to retain him after all.

Myself: Among this family drama, I managed somehow to have four books released this year! Appetite for Desire found a home with Secret Cravings and was released in July; my alter-ego's series was also accepted at SCP and the first two books released in October and sometime this week (yay!). And my very first burn-your-eyes-as-soon-as-you-begin-reading book, Teacher's Pet, was finally released last week. And yes, I toned it down a little after the first couple of sex scenes. But I love this story, so forgive me?

"In the name of love
What more in the name of love.."

Pretty much sums up the past year for me!

Pride feels like an old scratchy wool coat that give you hives.

2011-12-15T00:34:00.000-05:00

I find it really easy to be proud of other people - far less so to be proud of myself. Pride is just one of those things that makes me feel really...squidgy. But, I'm going to attempt to go outside my comfort zone.

Here are some things I'm proud of this year:

I'm proud that GRRWG (my local writers group) put on a kickass first ever conference. And directly related to that, I'm proud of the work I did to help pull it off.

I'm proud that I didn't give up on the stories I had to finish this year even though there were plenty of times I just wanted to highlight and delete the whole things.

I'm proud that the things I oversee in my day job are running smoothly.

I'm proud that I wrote seven stories this year - even if I didn't finish the one I really wanted to.

I'm proud that I'm getting a little bit better about telling people no when necessary.

All right, that's pretty much all I've got. Kinda starting to feel a little hive-y.

Please pass the Benedryl.

Pride

2011-12-14T05:19:00.003-05:00

I am proud of many things that have happened this year. I'm proud of my kids, my husband and my family. I'm proud that I've kept my day job and even accepted a second job. But I'd like to focus on the writing if I may.

Vamplet - Every author has that book. The one that as they are writing it there is a constant mantra of "You will never write anything this good ever again." That is Vamplet for me. I LOVE this book. I adore the characters, I love the plot, I like the dialogue, the romance, the sadness. This book, more than any other, is my very favorite.

Blood of the Fallen - I adore this book as well. It had been a very long time since I'd written a novel length book and it scared me a little when I took it on. But I am thrilled with the outcome. It was hard work and at times I found myself in tears at the thought that it wasn't even half way done when it felt like I'd been writing forever. But in the end, I am so thankful to my muse for handing those characters and this story to me.

I am also proud that I was able to write at all this year. Last year was so difficult for me that I wondered if I would ever be able to sit down and crank out a book again. I am thrilled to say that I did, obviously. It was a fun year for me and I'm so glad that you've all stuck around to enjoy the ride as well.

XoXoXo
D

Happy Thoughts from 2011

2011-12-12T07:00:00.000-05:00

Usually it's at Thanksgiving when we're reminded about what we're thankful for - families, first responders, military -- whatever and whoever is important, but this year, at least for me it's a good thing to look back at the year and see what's good and what I'm proud of.

1st - I'm proud of my daughter and the young woman she's growing up to be - smart, compassionate and a bit of a nerd.

2nd - the new addition to my family - Cleo kitty

3rd - (I really like and suck at this one) - I got out of my shell and met new people at AAD and GRL and made some great friends because of it.

4th - Writing plans can be used if the cut and paste feature and color coding functions are utilized properly - in plan English - I'm not a huge fan of you-must-do-this-now, I like flexibility.

5th - I finished more than one book and had several come out.

There are more, but I must fly, and really - I want to know what everyone else is proud of this year.

Simone.

Did I Even Make Any Resolutions/Goals?

2011-12-11T03:30:00.000-05:00

2011 was off to a rough start in the Michaels' household. Due to the spouse losing his unemployment benefits prior to Christmas Eve 2010, we had no internet; no phone; no television. If I wanted internet, I either had to go to the library, the coffee shop, or our bookstore, which would only be in business for three more months. But his benefits were restored on Dec 31st, so all was well....now we had to play catch-up.

My yearly blog post detailing goals did not get posted. I was still waiting to be assigned an editor for Teacher's Pet; I was having a love/hate relationship with my second publisher; and I was getting fed up with unanswered emails to a third potential publisher. So I decided to take a chance on a new publisher and suddenly 2011 looked promising!

Did I Write?

I did join in the word warring on Twitter, and yes, began one new wip and breathed Life into an existing one. And during NaNo, started a third.

Did I Publish Two Books?

Yes; Appetite For Desire arrived in July and Teacher's Pet is due out on Tuesday (more on this later, lol!). Plus, my alter-ego had a book released in October and her second is due out sometime this month. Plus, she has another one on track for January and a fourth in the summer. I say this one was Mission Accomplished.

How Many Manuscripts Did I Submit?

Only the four mentioned above. I didn't finish anything new.

Did I Exercise More?

Yes; when school began, I started walking 3 miles a day. And managed to drop seven pounds! Unfortunately, my momentum was disturbed by nagging pains in my feet plus twisting my ankle. Diagnosis: Plantar Fascitis and a heel spur on my right foot; arthritis (ack! I'm only 45!) in my left foot. And with the arrival of the cold weather, I will resume walking when the temps rise again to 50 degrees and higher.

Did I Make It To Any Conventions?

No. I was unable to talk the spousal unit into letting me travel. I even had to have my father drive down to get me for a mini-class reunion in August.

So I guess in retrospect, I did accomplish some of the normal goals I set each year. I wrote; published; exercised. I did NOT finish any existing wips, nor did I make it to Lori Foster's; Midwest Writer's; or RomantiCon (though it wasn't for the lack of trying! I even contacted a pilot friend and begged him to kidnap me and fly me there!)

And I conquered my fear of singing in public; I happily wait my turn each week when a friend and I go to karaoke!

So how did YOU do?

As promised, here's a sneak peek at my new book which goes LIVE on Tuesday. Enjoy:)

Blurb:

What happens when you discover the man you had mind-blowing sex with three months ago is your son's teacher? Tammy Saunders is horrified when she realizes the man who set her heart racing is her son's favorite teacher. With one bad relationship behind her, will she trust her heart again, or will she continue to deny her feminine side?

And is this particular teacher popular only with his students? Kevin has made some bad choices in his life, but sleeping with not only one, but now two, of his students' mothers, has got to be the worst mistake he ever made. Especially when he realizes he's lost his heart to one of them...

Buy link:

http://www.freyasbower.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=7&products_id=273

Excerpt:

“Mr. Taylor?” She hesitated in the doorway. “You wanted to speak to me about Danny?”

He shoved himself off the desk, his erection growing stiffer by the moment. “Call me Kevin.” He took her hand and closed the door. “I’ve been out of my mind, wondering who you were these past few months.” He brought her hand up to his mouth, lips grazing the backside.

She jerked her hand away. “That was a mistake.” She put some space between them. Color flooded her face. “I can’t believe we…that I allowed…you know,” she sputtered.

“To fuck you brainless?” He arched an eyebrow.

Her complexion was now darker than her t-shirt. “Could we please talk about my son?” she asked, teeth clenched. She cleared her throat. “I mean, that is why you called.”

“I lied. You’ve haunted me for months, Tammy. I go to sleep at night, and you’re in my dreams. I catch sight of a woman whose hair flows down her back and try to see of her face, hoping it’s you.” He noted her startled expression and stepped back. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of me these past months…”

* * * *

Oh the arrogance of a good looking man! I may have let Bruce steamroll over me in our marriage, but I’ve grown up in the past three years; I know how to handle men like you.

Her eyebrows arched. “Thought of you?” Time to take him down a notch. “Oh, right. Let me see if I have this correctly. We have mind-blowing sex, I run off to collect my kids, and you’re telling me that you, Mr. Obviously Popular, can’t sleep at night because the poor sex-starved widow never bothered to tell you her name? Is your ego that fragile?” She laughed. “Believe me,me; I’ve lost no sleep over it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. That ought to cool him off.

He closed the distance between them. “Then let me refresh your memory.” Kevin cupped her face in his hands and angled his mouth over hers. His tongue prodded between her lips; with a quiet moan, she opened them.

Like what you're reading? Buy it here:

http://www.freyasbower.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=7&products_id=273

The List

2011-12-10T16:03:00.001-05:00

I don't generally make resolutions. Mostly because I seriously suck at keeping them and then end up feeling like a failure. I did however make a list of things I'd like to do this year. I suppose you could call them resolutions, but I prefer to call them The List. :) To be honest, I don't even have The List anymore, but I do remember a few things from it and I actually did a pretty good job this year. So in no particular order...

Step Outside of My Comfort Zone: I'm a painfully shy person. You wouldn't know it if you've only known me online, but I have struggled with shyness all of my life. This year I worked really hard to force myself to do things that normally I wouldn't have done because of my shyness. Heck, just asking to join this blog is something I never ever would have done before! But I did it and look where I am now. :) I also joined a knitting guild that I'd been meaning to join for years but never did because I'd let my shyness get in the way. I even wrote an extremely personal blog post on what it's like to be shy and it went over really well with my friends and family.

Write More (and get closer to being published): I don't know if I actually wrote more this year or not, but I feel like I did. I didn't blog nearly as much as I would have liked to, but I think I did better this year than I did last year. As for the publishing thing... I'm now conversing with published authors on a regular basis and I'm about to co-write a little sumthin sumthin with the most awesome Emma Hillman, so yeah... I'd say I've done okay on this one too. :)

Learn to Crochet: I'm an avid knitter but I don't know how to do more than a simple chain when it comes to crochet. Unfortunately I have still not learned to crochet. I have a book from the library sitting in my living room that I've barely touched (and is due soon, dang it). I did look into a crochet class at one of my local yarn shops, but so far it's only been offered at times I can't do it. :(

Try New Things: This one kind of goes along with stepping outside of my comfort zone. It's also the item on The List that I'm most proud of. Last week alone I did so many new things that I almost can't believe it. I went to Miami for the first time, met two online friends in person for the first time, then went on a cruise (which frankly I said I would never, ever do). I made my first trip to the Bahamas, went to my first prom (theme party on the cruise), ate lobster for the first time, and went further into the ocean than I've ever been. It was a really awesome weekend. :) On top of that I've met some pretty awesome people on Twitter who have not only inspired me to keep working on my writing but who have also invited me to join a writers group in the New Year which I am trying very hard not to freak out about. :)

Read More: Last year I read 32 books. As of today I've read 55 and am currently reading two. Mission accomplished. :)

I guess for a girl who didn't make resolutions I did okay. :)

Smootches,
Kel

Hmmmm...feeling like a bit of a Fail Whale

2011-12-08T00:34:00.003-05:00

Well, let's review, shall we? Back in January, I resolved to:

Stick to a daily schedule
Write eight books including the YA project
Keep my office from becoming the Sacred Dumping Ground
Continue to purge excess things from my life
Tackle my TBR pile
Sew a least an 1/8th of the fabric in my office
Take more walks

Erm...is it too late to skip this post?

Yes?

How about if I distract you with something shiny?

No?

Okay, fine. Let's do this.

Stick to a daily schedule. Actually, I did pretty damn well with this...for a while. And then the conference happened and I completely underestimated what a time suck helping to put on a conference would be and how bloody difficult it would be to try to catch up afterward. However, I now know for next year, and I'm planning accordingly.

Write eight books including the YA project. Sigh. I wrote seven, but two were shorts and none were the YA project.

Keep my office from becoming the Sacred Dumping Ground. Considering I just had to shovel out the damn thing again in order to put up the Christmas tree, the answer to this would be no.

Continue to purge excess things from my life. Yes! I've actually been doing quite well with this one.

Tackle my TBR pile. Meh...not as much as I'd like, but I'm doing better than last year, so there's definite progress there.

Sew a least an 1/8th of the fabric in my office. Not even close - I think I've sewed about 60 yards. No where near 1/8th of the fabric.

Take more walks. Fail. But the treadmill is now unburied and where I can use it, so I'm gonna.

This year wasn't a total loss or anything, but I know I can do better. I'm already thinking about this year's resolutions and how to accomplish them. Best of all, I'm actually looking forward to it.

How did I do?

2011-12-07T07:05:00.004-05:00

Looking back at my resolutions I'd have to say I did pretty well.

1. Simplify - Well, ok, so the first one didn't really go off with a bang or anything. I collected even more stuff this year. I can't help it. I'm a Taurus, we like THINGS.

2. Get Healthy - I am pre-posting this in November, but as of today I am down 22 pounds. With any luck I really will have dropped 25 by the time this gets posted. I've been exercising, watching what I eat (no more chocolate lemon donuts every day for this girl), and taking vitamins. I do feel a million times better. I'm not as tired as I was all the time, my mood has vastly improved, and it's been great. My husband is pretty pleased with my slimming body as well.

3. Write More - I definitely did this. Though to be honest, it wasn't really that hard. 2010 was a terrible writing year for me. In 2011 I wrote Blood of the Fallen, Vamplet, Shake Me Up, Frienemies, Quarantine, and most of The Pit Boss (Coming 2012). I also began working on the sequels to Mitch and To Hate and To Hold. Yes, I would say that I nailed this resolution.

4. Carve out some ME time - I would like to thank my husband for allowing this resolution to be fulfilled. He has recognized my need to be alone for a little while sometimes and he has taken on lots of child rearing tasks for me. Our code is "Go to Hogwarts." This means that I can lock myself in the bedroom with my laptop and watch Harry Potter (or anything else really, but it's usually Harry) without any husband or child interference.

Unfortunately I do still smoke and still haven't saved any money, but I would have to say that all in all 2011 was a pretty damn good year. I'm looking forward to 2012 to see what it has in store for me.

XoXoXo
Dakota

2011 Goals In Review

2011-12-05T19:41:00.000-05:00

As we close in on the end of another year, a lot has changed over the last few months. I met some wonderful new people and my family expanded to include another kitten, who is absolutely adorable.

So, at the beginning of the year, I set some goals. On the writing front --

1. Write a 1000 words a day. (From today forward although I have written at least 500 words since January 1st. ) --- I started out really well, but didn't make it. I did, however, write at least semi-regularly until my world imploded. So, it's something I'll continue to work on.

2. Get my writing plan together (This way I know what I need to be working on next and whether I need to concentrate on one project or if I can play with two or three at the same time.) - I did this, I even updated periodically when things changed, were added or deleted.

3. Blog regularly (I'm hoping for regular posting on M, W, F - mostly because I can remember those easy enough in addition to wherever else I'm scheduled to be.) - Nope, I didn't do this regularly at all. The schedule feature is going to be my new best friend. I have a 'real' job, which interferes with writing and blogging time. Silly bosses.

Simone.

The Backstreet Boys ate my homework.

2011-12-05T15:03:00.001-05:00

Thursday December 1, 2011

As I write this I’m hoping two things. 1) that the hotel I’ll be at tonight has freeinternet so I can upload this to Blogger, and 2) that the Schedule function inBlogger actually works because when Saturday rolls around and this post is due,I will be sunning myself in the Bahama’s with the Backstreet Boys. I won’t haveinternet service and frankly my mind will be on the hot bodies of said Boys atour beach party. Oh yes… this groupie is going to get an eyeful of Sexy forfour days! Anyway… I’ll blog about THATon my own blog when I’m back. For now,let’s talk about food!

I have to admit that most of my favorite recipes are forThanksgiving. And since we just passedthat lovely holiday I suppose I should share something that could be used forthe upcoming winter holidays instead.

Have you discovered the awesomeness that is Pinterest? I have found quite a few awesome recipes justby browsing random boards and saving them to my own “Yum” board. One that I used just the other day was asuper easy yet super tasty treat that can be made for cookie exchanges or justto nosh on while you’re wrapping gifts and getting all holiday-like.

ChocolatePretzel Yummy Things
(yes, I made that up)

All you need are circle-shaped pretzels, Hershey’s Kisses,and M&M’s.

Set your oven to 225.

Lay out the pretzels on a non stick cookie sheet.

Unwrap six billion and two Hershey’s Kisses (this ishonestly the part that takes the longest and makes the biggest mess). Once unwrapped, place one Kiss in eachpretzel. If you have a pretzel that’s alittle wonky and the Kiss doesn’t sit flat, no worries.

Place the cookie sheet with pretzels and Kisses in apreheated oven for 3-4 minutes.

The Kisses will bemelty (that’s a very technical term, thankyouverymuch) but will still havetheir Kiss shape. Now place an M&Min the center of each Kiss while smooshing (another technical term) the Kiss sothat it touches all sides of the pretzel. If your Kiss doesn’t touch the pretzel on all sides, it will most likelyfall out once it’s cool. No big deal,but not all fancy dancy like the other ones will be. If you’re anal, you might try to make surethat you’re arranging the M&M’s so that the trademark “m” is visible at alltimes, or make a pretty red-green-red-green pattern on the cookie sheet… I’mnot saying that I have experience in this though… right. *grin*

Aren’t they cute? Andso much yum!

Put the cookie sheet in the freezer for 5-10 minutes to setthe chocolate if you can’t possibly wait for them to cool at room temperature(it takes forevvvverrrr). Once thechocolate has cooled the treats should pop right off of the cookie sheet with aspatula. In the case that you use thefreezer to cool them, wait until they’ve been out in room temperature for aminute or so before trying to pick them up. Otherwise they might stick and you end up flinging treats across thekitchen unintentionally. Hehe

Variations can be made, of course and I plan to experimentwith different versions of this gem. Forexample, using a mint M&M instead of a plain one, or perhaps a peanutbutter M&M (yum!), of course there’s always the peanut M&M option aswell. There are also different kinds ofKisses out now that could be used as well like dark chocolate, white chocolate,cherry and more. I’m tempted to givethis a try with the peppermint swirl Hugs myself.

2-ingredientPumpkin Muffins

I did not take this picture, it's from Pinterest... blah blah woof woof.

These muffins aren’t exactly holiday themed but holy hellare they yummy. They’re also extremelyeasy to make and if you happen to be on Weight Watchers, each muffin is only 2points so you can eat a bunch of them without much guilt. I found these badboys on Pinterest as well. :)

For this one, you’re going to need a yellow cake mix and a16 ounce can of pumpkin. WARNING: do notget Pumpkin Pie Mix! If you do’ yourmuffins will be very gooey and although still yummy, not at all suitable foreating in front of anyone because they’ll stick to your fingers and cause allsorts of mess.

Preheat the oven to 350.

In a big bowl mix the dry cake mix with the can ofpumpkin. Do not add any other ingredients!(Actually, you can add pumpkin pie spices if you’d like but what I’m sayinghere is that you don’t add the items listed on the cake box). Cake mix, pumpkin, stir, done!

Scoop the dough into muffin cups, then bake forapproximately 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out of the center of amuffin clean. That’s it!

You can dust the muffins with powdered sugar, mix in minichocolate chips into the mix before baking, whip up a powdered sugar glaze, oreven top with cane sugar for a little crunch. But honestly, these muffins are so yummy you don’t need to make them allfancy. You can also use any flavor cakethat you want for this recipe but the yellow cake is the basic version. Once you’re ready to experiment you can tryit with chocolate, spice, or whatever flavor you want to try.

Enjoy!

P.S. The hotel didn't have free wifi and the ethernet didn't work. Thankfully the Miami International Airport has free wifi though so I can at least post this before I get back to Michigan. :) The cruise was all sorts of epic, by the way. :)

Best. Appetizer. Ever:)

2011-12-04T03:00:00.000-05:00

I attended my first Pampered Chef party in 1993, when pregnant with my 2nd child. Two dishes were prepared that night; one with tomatoes, bacon, and cheese; the other with ham and cheese. I'm not a tomato lover, so I prepared to enjoy the ham and cheese ring.

To my utter surprise, I could not eat enough bacon-tomato cups that night! Thankfully, the other attendees indulged my newly pregnant status and let me eat as many as I wanted.

And so they became my holiday staple, and this past Thanksgiving, my oldest son took notes on how I prepared them so he could make the appetizer for his fraternity brothers.

It's a simple recipe, and if you don't own a mini-tart shaper or mini-muffin pan, there's another way to make them. I'll include both options.

Ingredients:
-1/4 container Bacos (4.4 oz container, so maybe 1oz of it?)
-2 Cans of petite diced tomatoes
-1/2 small onion (optional; I sprinkle in onion powder)
-3 oz shredded Swiss or Mozzerella cheese
-1/2 cup mayonnaise (I like Miracle Whip)
-1 tsp basil
-2 cans refrigerated flaky biscuit (Hungry Jack works best)

Preheat oven to 375. Drain tomatoes; coarsely chop onion. Mix 1st 5 ingredients and set aside. Lightly spray mini-muffin pan (or 13x9" pan) with cooking spray.

Option #1:
Separate each biscuit into two or three thinner biscuits; lay each over mini-muffin cup. Dip tart shaper in flour and press each biscuit into a cup. Fill cups with bacon-tomato mixture.

Option #2:
Separate biscuits into two thinner ones; arrange in single layer in pan. Spread bacon-tomato mixture over biscuits.

Bake 10-12 mins until golden brown. For option #2, cut into squares and serve.

Enjoy:)

Welsh Cakes

2011-12-01T00:34:00.000-05:00

Okay, so this is pretty much an all year long recipe, but we always have them at Christmas. My Gram came to Michigan in 1945 from a small town in Wales, UK. She'd married my Grandpa during the war and when everything was finally over she came over here and, along with her knitting needles, brought this recipe with her. I can't remember a Christmas at my Gram's where there weren't Welsh cakes.

Now that my Gram is gone, it's usually my mom or my aunts making them - or more often me. Believe it or not, it's one of the few things I don't burn. Go fig.

This is a traditional breakfast/tea treat and my family loves them. They're easy to make and delicious. Normally, there isn't quite as much sugar on the outside...but the kids helped with these. o.O

I think I probably need to make some.

Immediately.

You'll need:

Welsh Cakes Recipe

2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 ½ teaspoon allspice (ground)
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup sugar
½ cup butter (room temperature)
1 egg
½ cup milk
¼ cup currants (optional)

Sift flour, baking powder, allspice, salt and sugar together in a bowl. Cut the butter into the flour mixture using a pastry blender or two knives. Stir the egg and milk together in a separate bowl. Add the egg mixture to the dry ingredients. Mix well. Blend in the currants. Gather the dough into a ball and roll it out onto a floured board until it’s ¼ inch thick. Cut two inch rounds out of the dough and cook on a very hot griddle or frying pan until lightly browned. Flip. Sprinkle with sugar while warm.

Note: Griddle must be hot enough for water to dance on the surface before cooking the cakes.

So that's it - easy, peasy. And let's not forget delicious!

Banoffee...oh how I love thee, you dangerous little bitch

2011-11-30T02:18:00.009-05:00

My recipies preferences change with my level of hunger. Right now, I am feeling the need for something sweet. So instead of eating the pie I am going to tell you how to make it so YOU can eat it.

Legally, I don't believe I can endorse this method of cooking, as I'm pretty sure it is way against the law. Nothing that tastes this good could possibly be okay. But I'm going to tell you how I do it and let you be the judge of whether or not your attention span is strong enough to keep up with what I do.

1 - I fill a large stock pot with water and put two cans of Eagle Brand sweetend condensed milk in it. I put the lid on the pot and boil it for three hours. I check the water OFTEN to make sure that the cans are fully submerged. If even the barest part of the can hits the air it will explode in a scalding hot, sticky mess all over me, the ceiling and pretty much the entire kitchen. The can must stay FULLY SUBMERGED THE ENTIRE THREE HOURS. Now, if you are a baker you will know that Eagle has recently changed their can designs to all be pull tab/pop top cans. I have not had an issue using this style can. But if someone were, against my better judgement, to try this themselves and would prefer the fully sealed kind of can I am relatively certain that Carnation Sweetend Condensed Milk would be just as good. I'm just a brand whore and love my Eagle.

2 - I remove the cans from the water with tongs and let them cool, usually overnight, on a dishtowel. Occasionally I will put the towel over the can in case of explosion. DO NOT OPEN THE CAN WHILE THE INSIDES ARE HOT. Again, explody mess all over the place. If someone were to ever recommend a cooling time, which I do not because I cannot condone this method of cooking due to illegal dangers and all of that, a minimum of four hours would be requested for safety. But I leave them overnight for complete 'safety.'

2 - In the morning (why it is done in the morning will become clear in a few steps.) Take your graham cracker crust and slice bananas in the bottom. I make a thick layer of bananas, but this can be adjusted to the preference of the eater.

3 - Open the can in the of condensed milk and gaze, mesmorized by the thick, golden, delicious toffee that has formed in the can. Do not eat it out of the can with a spoon, you will need the toffee to finish the pie. Or, if you know that you cannot resist boil three cans at a time. Theoretically of course. I am not telling you what to do, just sharing what I do. Spoon the toffee over the bananas, filling the crust to the top with the sticky goodness. Top with whipped cream or cool whip and cover, place in the fridge to settle.

4 - You will notice that you have almost half of a can of toffee left after the pie has been filled with as much of the filling as you could possibly cram in around the bananas. Pre-heat your griddle while you mix pancake batter. Make a stack of pancakes, spread the toffee over them, slice some banana on top and add a dollop of cool whip. Then dig in and have an embarassingly satisfying food orgasm.

5 - After a few hours the pie will be set and you can dig in with a fork by yourself or you could be nice and slice into wedges and share with friends or family.

XoXoXo
Dakota

I Think I'll Call It...Beetroot Poop Surprise

2011-11-29T17:37:00.004-05:00

I've got to post a recipe?? Seriously? I don't think I belong here. I don't even know how to cook. The most I can make is frozen pizza, and one time I did it and then Husband found what seemed to be a dark brown disc in the bin.

Yeah, you can guess what happened.

I burn water. I make sandwiches wrong. The most I can come up with for a holiday recipe is this:

1. Open the jar of beetroot.

2. Put some on a plate.

3. Open a pot of sour cream.

4. Put that on a plate, too.

5. Cut up some ham.

6. Put that on a plate, as well.

7. Eat all of it together while watching something Christmassy, like the festive episode of Miranda.

8. Freak out when your poop comes out purple because I swear to God that happened one time.

And there you have it. My favourite holiday recipe/food. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do, and don't get purple poop.

Don't Mess with a Pilgrim Before Black Friday....

2011-11-27T02:30:00.000-05:00

"Magic 8 Ball....will this holiday season be better than in year's past?" Celia shook the black ball as she muttered her question. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and grimaced. Why was she always chosen to play the part of Sarah Bradshaw, wife of the governor? Because you've done it for so many years. It's becoming a tradition.

She stopped shaking the ball and turned it around to check the answer.

The future is unclear....try again.

Damn thing....She used to spend hours with her friends, asking the toy various questions and seeing which predictions came true. The only reason she'd picked it up this time was because her brother had left it on her desk.

"Some things never change." Celia adjusted her apron and tied the sunbonnet strings under her chin. "Let's just hope Kevin remembers his lines this year."

She hurried to her car and slid behind the wheel. The theater was next to the old police station, and she gasped in surprise upon arrival. Fire trucks and ambulances blocked her path. Getting out of her car, she approached one of the officers. "What's going on?"

"We got a report of smoke in the basement. I think the play is cancelled, Miss Pricilla."

Celia caught sight of the Youth Center's director and hurried to him. "Was there a backup plan?"

"No. They're questioning Kevin. He's the one who called it in, and apparently he'd posted on Facebook he wished the theater would burn down."

"If he didn't want to be in the play, then why did he try out?"

The director sighed. "Who knows? And Pat told me she overheard him saying they wanted to be in line at Walmart by nine o'clock, instead of making his Thanksgiving speech. So just go on home and enjoy the rest of your holiday."

Thank God....now I can go home and get some rest before talking my dad into buying me the forty-inch TV which goes on sale at midnight! Celia pulled out her cell phone and pulled up tweetdeck.

Mission accomplished.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-26T19:27:00.001-05:00

I hope you had a great holiday! Things in my neck of the woods were pretty good and now I'm trying my best not to freak the hell out about the cruise I'm about to go on in a few days and have not begun to pack for. I did however manage to whip up a little sumthin sumthin for this week's challenge so... enjoy! :)

Untitled Turkey Day Short

Detective Julia Blackhawk didn'tmind working on holidays. In fact, she often would offer to cover shifts forothers so that they could be at home with their families. It wasn't that shewas anti-holiday, and offering to work Thanksgiving had nothing to do with thefact that she was part Native American. In her opinion what Thanksgiving meanthundreds of years ago had nothing to do with Thanksgiving today, she justdidn't have anyone to celebrate it with.

Sure, friends always asked her tojoin in with their family festivities. But she hated feeling like the SingleLoser Friend who had to tag along on someone's family traditions. She made themistake one time of attending Thanksgiving at a friend's house and spent theentire day feeling like an unwelcome freak while not understanding any of thefamily's private jokes. It was after that disaster that she decided that unlessshe was going home to Michigan to visit her own family, she'd just do holidayson her own.

She sat at her desk in the nearly deserted police stationand took a break from her massive stack of paperwork that she had decided to tacklewhile everyone else was in turkey comas watching the Detroit Lions lose yetanother Thanksgiving Day game. She shookher head at the ESPN pop up window on her computer screen when she saw thelatest score. Detroit had been havingsuch a good season and everyone had hopes of finally having a Thanksgiving winbut it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. She grabbed the Magic 8-Ball that sat on her desk and looked down atit. “Will the Lions win today?” sheasked and then shook the ball before turning it upside down.

All signs point to no.

She laughed and put the ball back on her desk. The sound of paper bags rustling made herlook up. Her eyes fell on her newpartner, Nate Jimmerson, as he carried what looked like a week’s worth ofgroceries into the office.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jimmerson?” she askedwith a smile.

“My mother made enough food to feed most of Chicago. Whenshe heard that you were here working today she ordered me to bring you a plate.”

Julia looked at the multiple bags, “Just a plate?”

Nate smiled and his dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle, “Shelikes to cook…”

“It’s very sweet…” Julia said as Nate started unpackingfood. He’d brought everything includingplates, plastic wear, napkins and even little packets of salt and pepper. “But aren’t you going back home?”

“Nope,” he said and smiled. He set two plates out and began opening up food to dish up. “I have about as much paperwork to get doneas you do. I figure the office is quietenough today that maybe I can actually focus and get some work done for achange before I get written up.”

“How can you be so far behind already? You just transferred into the department.”

He paused his table setting to look at his partner, “I’m aslow typist.” He cracked a smile and letout a chuckle then resumed his task.

“You’re nuts…” Julia told him with her own smile. She saved the report she’d been working onand then sat back watching Nate. They’donly been partners for about a month. Her former partner Karen had gone on maternity leave after popping out abeautiful little girl and everyone knew that Karen wasn’t going to beback. Nate on the other hand had transferredinto the department just as Karen was leaving and so he’d been partnered upwith Julia.

He was a local boy, born and raised in Chicago, with prettymuch his whole family having worked for the CPD in some way or another. He wasn’t one of those cocky assholes ridingon the coattails of his family though, he was actually a hard worker and reallyseemed to love being a detective.

He was also pretty easy on the eyes. Julia had strict rulesabout dating coworkers and wasn’t about to break those rules with her newpartner. She could however enjoy theview and a little harmless flirting to get her through the days.

She watched Nate prepare their plates. He was wearing a well worn pair of jeans thatlooked like they’d be baby-butt soft if she could reach out and touchthem. Up top he had on a thin sweaterthat was just tight enough to show off his physique. He had a really great body. Great hair too, dark brown and messy in an “Ijust got out of bed but still look amazing” sort of way.

Julia shook her head and tried to clear her mind of thoughtsabout her cute partner. “Can I help withany of that?”

“Nope…” he said simply then reached into another bag. “Oh and my condolences to your Lions…”

Julia laughed, “It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving if we didn’tlose.”

“Yeah well, if you followed a real team…”

“I might live in Chicago but I’m from Michigan and willalways be a Lions fan.”

“Whatever you say, Jules… Come on, I think everything is ready.” He held out a hand to her whichshe stared at momentarily before taking it. He pulled her to her feel and pushed her gently toward their impromptudinner table.

She laughed when she saw that he’d even set out littledecorations. She picked one up andlooked at it, “Really, Nate? Pilgrims?”

“I told my mom not to put those in the bag but, they arekind of cute… Are they totally offensive?”

“Horribly…” she teased then laughed at the look of horror onNate’s face. “I’m kidding! They’reactually pretty cute. Just don’t whipthese out if you ever meet the rest of my family. They’re not as forward thinking as I am.”

“Duly noted…” Nate said and pulled out a chair forJulia. She sat down and then he moved tothe other side of the table to sit across her. He raised a plastic solo cup of cider, “To new partners and my motherwho makes way too much food. HappyThanksgiving, Blackhawk.”

Julia smiled and raised her own cup, “Happy Thanksgiving, PaleFace.”

They both chuckled and began their feast while talking aboutpaperwork and open cases. It was thebest Thanksgiving Julia had experienced away from home.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T00:34:00.000-05:00

In honor of Thanksgiving, I thought I'd share this video with you. Yeah...you're welcome.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T05:24:00.001-05:00

I would like to share with you the things that I am oh-so-thankful for.

I am thankful for my friends. There is an old quote that friends are the family you choose. I have always believed that. And I have the best friends a girl could ever wish for. Two of them in particular are so caring, so generous, and so sweet that I want to give them a special shout out. Brynn and Bron are probably two of the nicest women on the planet. I am honored to be your friend.

I am thankful for my family. My husband and my children are amazing. I don't know what my life would be like without them in it, and I don't really want to. Every day I know that I have been blessed to have them.

I am thankful for my gift. I may not always feel like a real writer, but I know that I am. There are too many published works with my name plastered across them for me to deny what I do. But in the times that I cannot write, when I sit and I stare at the screen and nothing comes, I make mental notes to be thankful when the muse comes back. To honor her with chocolate and beer as she likes for me to do. This is a gift, it's a talent that not everyone possesses. I hope to never take it for granted. And I hope it never leaves.

I am thankful that there are men on the planet who look like this:

And I am thankful for readers like you who take time out of your busy lives to stop by and read our ramblings, purchase our books, and support us through everything.

XoXoXo
Dakota Rebel

My Inner Demons

2011-11-20T14:36:00.001-05:00

Forgive me; I saw the topic for this week and all of a sudden Fleetwood Mac's 'My Little Demon' is going through my brain!

Okay; focus, Kenzie....what demons follow me around?

Wait; maybe I need to introduce myself? I'm Kenzie Michaels; my stories are on the tame side of the Adult Contemporary Romance genre; and currently three books are published, with a fourth due out any day now and two more pending. I've known most of the other writers of this blog for several years, and have a confession: I've been writing my own essays each week and following their blog topics in hope that one day I might be invited to 'fill in' or even invited to join. And voila! Here I am, to brighten up your Sunday afternoon.

So with that out of the way, back to my demons:

a) Demon of insecurity. I've never been comfortable in social settings unless I had a friend along, but I've noticed that in the past several years I'm finally comfortable in my own skin. I'm not sure if maturity has suddenly caught up to me, or it's the influence of a good friend, but I've been singing karaoke now for a year. The first time I stood up, my knees shook and I held the microphone too far away from my mouth. But last week, I had no problems singing duets with people and not caring how I sounded. I'll even tell the karaoke goddess, "Don't applaud that! I was horrible!" and graciously accept the thanks of those who cheer my name!

Insecurity also rears his head when I receive edits or cover art. I'd rather have a second opinion if I'm not sure how to fix a scene, or disagree with my editor. And the same goes for cover art; I've only had two covers which I 'knew' were the right ones. And I'm grateful for friends who take time out of their busy schedules, since I still consider myself a 'newbie'.

b) Demon of head-hopping. Back in 2007, when I discovered the joys of networking with other authors, I also learned the rules had changed, considering how scenes were constructed. I wrote in the style of my favorite books: Danielle Steele, Judith McNaught, Kathleen Woodiwiss. Now all of a sudden it's a no-no to switch POV's in the middle of the scene. I still struggle with this, though I'm getting better.

c) Demon of not speaking up/confrontation/defending myself: This is a biggie. I'm a people-pleaser who dislikes confrontation. And I'm married to a man who likes to raise his voice. A lot. So I tend to let him have his say, and then fume about it, especially if I think he's wrong. And the times I do argue back, my problem is overcoming his objections. I saw this when I tried sales; I've never been good at persuading strangers to buy something they don't want. I've had some high-pressure salesmen talk me into buying things, but I didn't enjoy them afterward. When I buy something, it's because I WANT it, not because I want to shut someone up.

The demon I have conquered? The 'yes' demon. I'm more comfortable telling people 'No; I'm too busy.'

So what about you?

Demons

2011-11-19T14:08:00.000-05:00

When I realized that this week’s topic was about the demons that haunt me, I immediately thought of my writing. I also realized that I’d actually already written a blog post that would fit this week’s topic perfectly. Although I kind of hate the idea of kicking off my first week on the blog with a pre-written post, it just fits this week’s topic too well not to share it. Plus it lets you get to know me a little better since I’m the new kid on the blog. Enjoy!

A Chick Who Writes
September 24, 2010

I love to write. I’ve been writing for a long, long time. I write blogs, fiction, the assorted poem, and I even wrote a song once. When I say I write fiction though, I’m not talking about short stories… I’m talking about full length drama-filled shots of life, or in a word, books.

Yes, I write books, and yet I have a very, very hard time saying that. I often say, “I write fiction,” or “I write stories.” I’ve even been known to say, “I write book-length fictional stories…” but to say that I write books for some reason freaks me out. I think when most people hear that statement they think of books stores and libraries, not online fiction. So if I were to say I’ve written five novels since 1999 (which I have), I sort of expect people to respond with, “So where are they?” If the book isn’t in a store or able to be bought, it’s not a “real” book… or at least that’s what my mind tells me when it comes to my own writing.

Writing fiction for online purposes is a lot like writing for a soap opera where the characters lives just sort of keep going on and on (and on) until finally the writer figures out a way to end the epic drama. Chapters for online fiction can sometimes be like a snapshot into the lives of the characters, not exactly needed for the plot, but still something that adds to the character development and gives the readers something new to explore. But when you’re writing for publishing, there are length guidelines and all of the extra fluff gets taken out sort of like condensing a soap opera into a feature film. Either way though, it’s still fiction, it’s still hand crafted, and it’s still a book no matter how long it is.

Take for example the book I’m currently reading on Bizkit, my handy dandy Nook, “Dead in the Family” by Charlaine Harris. This novel in the e-book format is 243 pages of vampire, fae and werewolf smutty drama. “No Rest for the Wicked” by Kresley Cole… 285 pages, “The Lovely Bones” by Alice Sebold… 214, and “The Godfather” by Mario Puzo is 448 pages. The longest story that I have written is 651 pages in e-book format. Another one of my finished works is over 500 pages as an e-book. So in looking at just pure volume, it’s pretty clear that I write books, not “stories.”

I literally have people all over the world who read what I write. Some who I’ve met and have become a part of my family, and the only reason we met each other was because they read something I wrote and took time out to send me feedback or strike up a conversation about a chapter. I adore the relationships I’ve made through writing, and yet there is a whole group of people in my life who have never read my fiction or my previous blogs. Most of those people happen to be those who I know IRL (that’s “In Real Life” for those of you not in the know).

People who I see on a regular basis and who know my real full name, not just what I’m known as online. In other words, people who could read what I write and not like it, then I’d still have to face them knowing that they think I’m full of crap. That isn’t to say however that everyone who reads me is someone who I’ve met online. Some of my very close well-trusted offline peeps have read my stuff and are some of my biggest supporters. They’re the ones who say, “You have to keep writing! You need to be published! Stop putting yourself down!” and honestly I love them for it.

Supportive peeps and online groupies aside though, I still struggle. It’s taken me years to be able to read some of my writing and actually think, “You know what? This actually is good…” I am my own worst critic and often the person who gets in the way of my desire to write. As much as I love writing and as often as I am creating a chapter, scene or conversation in my head, I don’t always think of myself as a writer… an author. “Author” seems official as if in order to say you’re one you have to be getting paycheck for it. Writer on the other hand is somewhere between a hobby and a true author, like a person who is just about to get a book deal but hasn’t quite penned the agreement yet. Which leaves me as “a chick who writes.”

I know it’s all in my head, just like most of my insecurities are. I know that if I believed in myself more it would be easier to pursue this dream of mine. I know all of the things I need to know, I just don’t follow my own advice. I tell my fellow writers who compare their writing to mine, “Stop comparing yourself to me, you’re your own person and you are great!” then I turn around and tell myself, “Man I suck compared to such and such, I’ll never be able to write like that…” I am the poster child for “Do as I Say Not as I Do” when it comes to advice on writing.

I know it’s hypocritical and silly, I know all of this, but I also know that the mind is a strong thing. I know that my inner critic is made up of a lot of different people, situations and life lessons. I hear the echo in my head of the conversation I had fifteen years ago during which I was told that journalism wouldn’t be a wise career choice, and I remember the four years that followed where my creativity died.

I do, however, also remember when my muse came back and I began to find my voice again. I remember being totally obsessed with writing and how amazing it was. Boring college classes, lunches, and coffee breaks were just another place for me to write in my notebook. My whole world felt like it revolved around my plots and characters and getting that next chapter written and put online. I lived for the feedback from my readers and gave Feedback of the Day Rewards to people who made me giggle the most or gave me goose bumps. I loved it. I miss it.

Who knows if I’ll ever be a published author? I hope so and dream about it. I know in my heart when I read some purchased novels that I am a better writer than some of these paid authors. I catch the typos and glaring mistakes in novels that crit groups, beta readers and editors somehow miss. I know that I have talent when it comes to writing, I just need to work on believing it all of the time instead of just part time.

So here’s my first baby step.

Hi, my name is Kel, and I’m not just a chick who writes, I’m a Writer.

Demons…I Have A Trio

2011-11-18T08:22:00.003-05:00

Demons... This week, I sat back and thought about them. It's not something to dwell on, but something you need to know about as a writer. So here are the ones I identified:

1. I live with the constant fear of not being good enough -- at anything. Unfortunately, that impacts my writing as the demon stands over my shoulder and whispers “it’s not good enough. It will never be as good as your last book. It will never be as good as [insert title].” It’s an ugly little demon who’s paralyzed many a writing session.

2. The ADD demon also likes to attack me. I don’t know that I’ve got ADD; I’ve never been diagnosed with it, but it’s a very likely possibility. Both of my kids have it. My older son, like me, has learned how to control and manage it. I truly have trouble focusing on anything for more than ten minutes. And ten minutes is good. After that, I feel the pull of something else. Anything else. Even on my weekly TV date with Bronwyn to watch Supernatural, my focus is split. It’s unusual for me to stay in the room/stay seated/stay watching for more than ten minutes at a time.

3. The “Let’s Flounder For Awhile” demon. It doesn’t matter how much research I’ve done, how many character studies, how much I’ve plotted, there comes a point in every story where I’m sure I know nothing about what I’m writing. It’s utterly terrifying when it hits. Every time it hits. Even when I know it’s coming. And it always does. I start questioning the whole story and fighting the urge to rip everything apart.

So what do I do to counter these.

There’s only one thing to do. You have to sit down and keep on working. There’s a long quoted statement: the only difference between a published writer and an unpublished one is that the published one never gave up.

You can’t let your demons win. You have to identify them and by knowing them, you can understand when they attack. You may have heard “Knowing is half the battle”. It is. If you don’t know and identify your demons, you can’t fight them.

I can’t tell you how to fight your demons. What works for me, probably won’t work for you. But just know, it doesn’t matter where you are in the writing life; you will be attacked by them. You are not alone. We all are. And we can all beat them.

Is there a demon slayer in the house?

2011-11-17T00:34:00.000-05:00

Now, I'd prefer that my demons look like Sam and Dean when they're possessed - or better yet, when they're not . But sadly, those aren't the kind of demons I have.

The ones I have aren't nearly as ripped as these two. Nope, the ones that plague me are messy and annoying and suck up nearly all my time.

There are, of course, the distractions - though I notice Pinterest isn't on here...

Then there's procrastination. Truer words have never been spoken.

I can't forget about guilt. I tend to waste a lot of time feeling guilty. Some of the stuff is legit. Others, I just need to get over and let go.
And I can't forget my deadline demon which dovetails perfectly with my damn time management demon.So, these are the demons that stalk me. They're jerks, but somehow I keep opening the door to them. I've realized that I need to take a new approach. I need to open the door with Mr. Pointy in my hand and stake the bastards before they have a chance to get in!

It's time to do some dusting.

That Pink Blob Is My Face

2011-11-15T18:25:00.003-05:00

The only demon that's stalking me at the moment are deadlines. Crazy, crazy insane deadlines, that are making me sleep at odd times that don't exist, like sofa o'clock. Seriously, the other day I passed out on said item of furniture, and was so dead to the world that Husband covered me up with seventeen cardigans - though he didn't do so to be nice. He did it because he feared I'd turn over and moon all the Grammar School boys who regularly troop past my window, due to the ragged nature of the clothes I'm currently wearing.

This is an actual and true story, too. I'm really wearing rags. TBH, I'm not even sure what I'm wearing, half the time. I come downstairs with one sock on and a skirt worn like a dress - you know. Like, pulled up over my boobs so I don't flash the Grammr School boys those, too.

And my hair is like this:

See that angry, jagged bit on the side? That's true, too. It's probably the deadline demon, trying to escape my body. It's probably my immortal soul dying a tortured death, because I typed it into a computer.

All I do is type things into a computer. I'm probably starting to think the screen is a long lost parent. At night, I cuddle it and cry - and that's true, too. Though of course the cuddling in question is done with my feet, and I'm crying because in my dreams the world is made up of Armie Hammers, and all of them want to swim around inside my vagina.

Oh, Armie. Thank God I have your imaginary self to lean on, during this trying time.

If You Must Fail...

2011-11-11T00:01:00.001-05:00

Then fail big! Here's a story I call "There Are No Secrets". It's a parenting story I once published in a very small magazine and that I've often shared and I hope you find it as funny as I do. Caution: please set all beverages to the side while reading.

THERE ARE NO SECRETS

The day of “the incident', I was sailing through the task of mothering two little boys and thinking things were going very well. They were happily occupied playing in their room and I was actually getting things done. I guess things were going too well. After almost four years, I should have known better.

I also should have gotten a lock box. But that comes later.

Parenting Tip #1: When they’re quiet, there’s trouble.

My husband and I were in the living room reading when my older son, Adam, entered. Being wise – not really – I had spaced my children close together. They are the best of friends. Because of this, my younger son, Drew, entered right behind his brother.

Now Adam has always been bright and mature, and sometimes his tone reminds me of a voice from my past. My mother, in my teen years.

I realized suddenly that he was glaring at me, with his hand hidden behind him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, setting aside my novel and segueing into concerned mother mode. His hand whipped from behind his back.

“Momma, what extactly is dis.”

“Yeah, ma,” his little brother echoed.

Oh. My. God! I think my eyes rolled back in my head. Actually, I’m surprised I didn’t faint. If ever there was a time, this was it. How on earth did I explain? I had never even admitted to anyone that I had one of those.

As my husband -- who had bought the “dis” by the way -- choked with laughter next to me, I realized that my son held my pink, anatomically correct vibrator in his chubby little hand. His other hand on his hip, he stared at me, waiting for an answer. His brother struck a similar pose. Where is it written that the children get to gang up on their mother?

What they received as an answer was a particularly un-motherly shriek, and a “Give that to me!” That’s when my brain finally clicked back into gear. This wasn’t exactly something I left laying around. The last time I’d seen it, it was tucked safely in the back of my drawer under a pile of underwear. Once I’d put it back there, I returned to the living room and cornered my sons.

“What were you doing in my dresser?” I demanded. I’d told them often to stay out of my bedroom, a directive they patently ignored. I never expected them to go through the dresser drawers.

Parenting Tip #2: Always expect the unexpected.

Adam blinked up at me, full of innocence. “I was lost.”

I think I developed a twitch right about then. It reappears frequently – usually in conjunction with my older son.

Adam received a time out while I wished for valium. Triple strength. His brother went back to his room to play after I’d ferreted out that he was an innocent bystander in the mommy humiliation project. As soon as Adam was released from time out, he asked, “Momma, can I play wid your handcuffs? Why you hab dem anyway?”

Did I mention the water I was drinking and the fountain that resulted? He giggled maniacally, thinking I was just being funny, and begged me to do it again. I shooed him off to play, with the admonition to stay out of my bedroom.

I sank into my chair, my head in my hand. Visions of Adam performing the same “What is this?” stunt in front of company haunted me. What if he brought it up at my mother’s? At least he didn’t know what "dis" was called. I added a lock box to my shopping list.

Nothing more was said about “the incident". I fell back into a state of mommy-bliss. It would take a few more occasions for me to learn mommy-bliss is a dangerous place. Thankfully, none of the subsequent occurrences involved the pink, anatomically correct vibrator or any similar device.

Except for one. Did I mention that it was anatomically correct? Perhaps not. So in case you missed it, it was anatomically correct.

Fast forward to a few days after the first “incident". By now, I was hoping maybe Adam wouldn’t remember his foray into my dresser, that maybe he wouldn’t drag out my personal items in front of guests, and that maybe he wouldn’t be scarred for life. Lord knows, I would be.

Was it too soon for the birds and the bees talk? It was definitely too soon for the sex toy talk. Is there a sex toy talk? I can tell you, at this point, it’s a discussion I hope to never have.

Anyway, as I was dusting, I could hear my dear sons downstairs in the family room. As background, they had on a mommy-screened, child-friendly video. Only they weren’t watching it. Adam had decided to take the sex talk thing into his own hands. While I began to see black spots before my eyes, he talked earnestly to his younger brother.

“It’s not right to cut off penises and keep them in your drawer. . .”

The twitch was back.

I don't wanna brag...but I think someone picked this topic especially for me.

2011-11-10T00:34:00.002-05:00

For those of you who know me, my life tends to be one epic fail after another. However, for the most part, I (like most people around me) think they're pretty funny. Failing when you're utterly mortified is no fun for anyone. I'm really grateful to my mom. I learned that most things aren't worth getting bent over and if you have the ability to laugh at yourself, you'll be a lot happier. Trust me, this woman has done tons of things worth laughing at. As has her daughter.

I had a bit of a hard time narrowing down my best fail - mostly because there were so many to choose from. There's the time Jennifer Armintrout and I were singing songs from Buffy the Vampire Slayer in an elevator at a conference and were "caught" by an an acquiring editor we were both scheduled to pitch to. And the time at a different writers' conference where I had a bit of trouble with the New York Subway system. On the plus side, I did get a car full of New Yorkers to cheer for me once I made it on the train. That totally counts for something. Both of those tales of woe can be found here. And I can't forget (nor, I'm sure, can the Fed-Ex driver) forget the time I flashed the Fed-Ex driver...and my entire neighborhood. Nor can I forget any of my special encounters with the local police - found here, here, here and here.

My very latest epic fail is The Day I Ruined Bill's Life . Usually, my fails are all about me, but this time I took someone down with me. Poor bastard.

However, the story I'm going to share today is the tale of a pregnant Bron who needed to pee real, real bad, mostly because I don't think I've shared this little gem, yet.

Welcome to confessions of a seatbelt zealot.

I’d like to tell you that I had the kind of pregnancy of which soon-to-be new mothers dream. The one where you look as good as Demi Moore on the cover of Vanity Fair. The one where you exude a soft radiant glow, and your Zen-like sense of calm never wavers. The one where you actually enjoy being pregnant. Yes, I’d like to tell you that I had that pregnancy, but I’d be lying more than my mother when she said; “You’ll forget about the pain as soon as you hold your baby.” Yeah, right.

By the time, I reached my ninth month I thought I’d had my quota of pregnancy mishaps, including falling asleep and snoring loudly while having blood work done. I thought perhaps I could just relax for the last couple of weeks. That may have been my biggest mistake.

My husband was out of town on business with our one and only car, so I had to borrow my little brother’s car in order to make it to my doctor’s appointment. Like the automobiles of many eighteen-year-olds, Martin’s car (a baby-blue, 80-something Ford Tempo)was crammed full of sticky soda bottles, rancid fast food wrappers and empty cigarette packages. A sour stench emanated from the upholstery. Trying not to vomit, I cleared a spot, shut the ashtray and gingerly wedged myself behind the wheel. Did I mention the missing driver’s side window? Instead of glass, the car sported a stunning combination of mostly-clear sheet plastic and duct tape. Sadly, it was February. In Michigan. During a blizzard.

I moved the seat forward, but in order to reach the pedals, I had rest my giant, nearly-ready-to-give-birth-belly in the steering wheel well. Ignominious, but necessary. Being the seatbelt zealot I am, I fastened the restraint as soon as I got situated.

The drive to the doctor’s office was fairly uneventful, despite having to peel back the plastic window to check for oncoming traffic. I even got the last spot in the frozen, ice-covered parking lot. And then my luck ran out.

I hit the release on the seatbelt clasp. It didn’t budge. I tried again. Nothing. With a sinking feeling, I realized I had to pee. I tried not to panic. It didn’t work. In a fit of misguided optimism, I thought perhaps I could wiggle out of the restraint.

Take the journey with me, people. Nine months pregnant with my second child. Giant belly shoved in the steering wheel well. Bound to a smelly, garbage filled excuse for a car, attempting to shimmy out of a securely latched seatbelt. Did I mention the part about being nine months pregnant and having to pee?

Spotting a screwdriver on the passenger side floor, I kicked off a shoe and sock. Somehow, I managed to pick it up with my toes. I tried to jimmy the latch open and succeeded only in breaking the screwdriver.

By this time, my baby happily bounced on my bladder like a demented circus clown. I knew unless something drastic happened soon, I’d add another unfortunate smell to my brother’s car. Five long, long minutes later, I was ready to cry. And then I saw her. An angel. The patron saint of nearly-hysterical pregnant women everywhere. The only sign of life in the parking lot since I’d pulled up.

Any dignity I might have possessed was long gone. I yelled for help. Okay, I admit, it was more of a shriek. A tall, lovely woman in a full-length fur coat opened the passenger side door. Perfectly coifed and dripping in diamonds, she scanned the interior. Her expensive perfume wafted in and clashed with the foul stench of the traveling landfill. Her delicate, and likely costly, nose wrinkled.

I tried to explain my dilemma. Only what popped out of my mouth was, “It’s not my car. Really.” She appeared understandably puzzled, so I launched into the sad story of my dismal condition. She smiled and assured me she’d be right back. Within moments, she returned with a pair of office scissors and cut me free. I squirmed from the car, barely noticing the steering wheel shaped ring of grime around my belly.

Then my savior turned on me. She asked me to return the shears. To the receptionist. At my doctor’s office. Once inside, I traded the scissors for a sample cup and ducked into the bathroom for the most gratifying urinating experience of my life.

When I exited the restroom, the office staff averted their eyes and stifled giggles. The nurse who took me to be weighed actually held the clipboard in front of her face. As I passed the lab area, the techs snickered and pointed. For once, I was glad to get to the exam room and strip. I hoped I didn’t smell like Martin’s car.

Figuring my ordeal was over, I tried to read. All they had in the room were those baby magazines with air brushed photos of new mothers in the throes of blissful maternity. The ones designed to make the average woman weep with the injustice of it all. I was interrupted by rapid whispers and muffled laughter outside the door. To her credit, my doctor attempted to keep a straight face when she entered the exam room. It lasted all of fifteen seconds. Having heard my saga, she asked permission to share the story with some of her other patients. She thought it would help cheer the depressed ones.

Little did I know my doctor would find it so amusing, she’d keep telling the story for years. Six years after the incident, my friend who was feeling overwhelmed by her pregnancy, called to tell me our doctor had just told her the tale at her latest appointment. Yup, that’s me. I’m the poster-girl for weak-bladdered women everywhere.

Funny Fail -- ???

2011-11-07T08:17:00.012-05:00

Fails. Definitely. Epic. Probably. Funny -- doubtful. I don't have the funny, witty, clever thing going on that Bron and Mia have - well, it might be there, but I don't how to access it.

So, Instead I give you pictures ---

Arizona - I spent a fun filled week in Arizona with one of my sisters -

Grand Canyon - Trust me - pictures never do it justice

Oak Creek Canyon - Sedona

Authors After Dark - Spent a week in Philly, PA. These are from the trip home because I never took my camera out while we were there. I drove home with Bron and Brynn

Along the highway in Penssylvania

Pennsylvania - Best Highway Signs ever

GayRomLit - Held in New Orleans, way way too much fun. Sadly, I didn't get pictures of the dancers.

French Quarter

Signs at the Clover Grill, down the street from our hotel - there were 6 or 7 of these - they're great

Happy Manners Day

2011-11-04T00:01:00.002-04:00

If I could make up a holiday, it would be Good Manners and Common Sense Day. Seriously, people around the world celebrate Talk Like a Pirate Day, but when it comes to being polite, forget it. On this day, people would be nice to others and drop the over-celebrated snark. People wouldn't tailgate and drive like, let's face it, morons. People would be kind at the grocery store, wave to their neighbors and take care of their own garbage. People wouldn't behave as if the world owes them a living. They would realize, as I often remind my children, that they are not the center of the universe.

Does this sound as if I'm angry? Bitter? I'm not. But I must admit that I have recently begun a one-woman crusade for politeness, for living in a more genteel society, and for appreciating the finer things in life, such as a clean house, thoughtfully home-cooked meals and quiet, rejuvenating time spent with family.

So I really am hoping for this holiday to happen. And like people who wish that Christmas could last all year long, I am hoping for a better society to start emerging too.

Holidays Bron Style

2011-11-03T00:34:00.001-04:00

I went to a Catholic high school and there I discovered Holy Days I'd had no clue existed. I'd get to school and find out it was an all school mass kinda day. The holy day would just sort of sneak up on me and BAM it's the Feast Day of Saint Someone or Other.

That's how I want my special holidays to work. I want them to sneak up on people and BAM! It's a holiday.

Like The Feast of the Porkception. To celebrate this holiday, you eat spectacular bacon dishes that other people prepare for you all day long. You're parking the parking garage? someone's waiting with a platter of super crispy bacon. At the first meeting of the day, you get a plate full of bundukies placed in front of you. At lunch, it's bacon quiche. And so on throughout the day.

Or how about The Sacred Day of Stories? No matter where you are or what you're doing, you should always have a book with you. During this holiday (which I feel should occur monthly) everyone stops what they're doing, sits down and reads. It should be a Holy Day of Obligation. Instant peace.

Now, the last holiday is the one I'm the most excited about - The Feast of Our Lady of Sleep. On this day, which should also occur monthly, your alarm automatically shuts itself off and BAM! You get to stay in bed - all day if you want. And your work waits for you while you catch up on all the sleep you've lost trying to fit everything else in.

All right...I'm waiting. When can celebrate the Feast Day of Our Lady of Sleep? And what holidays would you create?

Go ahead...eat all the donuts you want

2011-11-02T04:28:00.005-04:00

If I could create a mythical holiday I would have to go with National Calories Don't Count Day.

Oh yes. For one day every year you could eat anything (and everything) you want with no repercussions. No weight gain. No food allergies. No punishment at all. Just good, wholesome binging with no need to purge.

Can you imagine? Wake up in the morning and drink a pot of coffee as you throw down a dozen donuts. Full of fat, gluten, wheat, covered in nuts and topped with frosting. What does it matter, nothing counts today. Your body loves all food on this one day a year.

For your mid-morning snack you can eat a pound of fudge and wash it down with a gallon of chocolate milk. Or vodka. Fuck it. It's a holiday. You can't drink all day if you don't start in the morning, right?

For lunch you may as well eat a salad.

Right.

For lunch you can slam an entire pizza into your face. Stomach ache? Screw you it's National Calories Don't Count Day. You are doing this for AMERICA! So light a sparkler and wash that pizza down with some corn dogs.

For dessert you might want to crack open that pint of haagen daz you've been saving for a special occasion. After all, what's more special than this? NOTHING.

For an afternoon snack you can feast on a couple pounds of cinnamon roasted almonds. No pesky nut allergies today, no sir. In fact, someone should run and fetch me a hazelnut frappacino. I'm feeling a bit peckish.

For dinner...oh lord for dinner. Thanksgiving has nothing on National Calories Don't Count Day. I'll have turkey and ham and three kinds of potatos please. I'll have pumpkin, pecan AND sweet potato pie with cool whip, thanks. Pass the gravy. ALL the gravy.
Oh the eats I could eat if only I tried.

Some Month Day

2011-11-01T03:04:00.006-04:00

If I were to invent a holiday, it would be a very proper sort of affair. You know, with everyone in fancy frilly collars, and lots of doilies on everything. The drink of choice would be something classy, like sherry, and once the elegant meal of pheasant had been digested, we would all adjourn to something nice sounding, like a parlour. Maybe to play something dignified, like Bridge or Backgammon. Even though I don't know how to play either of those two things, and always imagine that you need a shitload of maths knowledge to even get close to winning them.

But even so, that's definitely the holiday for me. Because I am dignified and also totally sane, and I do normal things all the time, like drink tea and make polite chit-chat. I almost never talk about naked men. Almost never. In fact, I don't even particular like coc-

LOL okay. By this point, most of you probably know that I'm talking out of my bumhole. And even if you don't, you're probably getting some clue just from the sheer weight of my insanity, pressing on the internet and forcing its way into you through osmosis.

Because let's be honest, here. We all understand that my invented holiday would be called something like "Cockfest 3000". Or maybe "Brandon Routh and Armie Hammer Day". Or if I'm really lucky, both of those things crossing in some sort of winter solstice stone henge aligning sort of event, so that all the Armie Hammers and the Brandon Rouths end up naked in a city square somewhere, festooned with ribbons and filled with beer.

Which is, of course, how I imagine Cockfest 3000 would look. And if said look is a little bit like how people imagine a gay German sex club might appear on a Saturday night, well, that's okay. I never said my holiday had to be original. Or even heterosexual.

I just said it had to have a lot of naked Armie Hammers and Brandon Rouths in it. And if I've no idea why there are plurals of both those two men, well, I don't care about that, either. It's my holiday, dammit! I can do what I like!

And what I'd like to do is Brandon Routh and Armie Hammer. Or at the very least, I'd like a big beer that doesn't taste like beer at all, and maybe one of them giant sausages covered in cabbage, and then I'd like to watch them doing each other.

Is that so much to ask? Why isn't this holiday real, for God's sake? I mean, just think of some of the holidays we do have: May Day, for instance.

Seriously? That's the best the committee for inventing holidays could come up with? A celebration of it being a different month to April? That sucks so hard it blows. It's like when the vacuum cleaner gives up and starts working backwards. No one wants a holiday called "Some Month Day", so for God's sake:

Give me my Hammering Routh day.

Is that really too much to ask?

Holidays!!!

2011-10-31T08:37:00.003-04:00

Wow, it's holiday time around here! First, it's Halloween - so Happy Halloween or Happy Samhein, which ever applies better.

Beyond that, I've got some sort flu/cold thing which absolutely sucks, let see if I can get this make believe holiday idea out of my in a coherent mass.

Solimas - A Five day celebration with preperations being the week before with decluttering your life. During the five days there will be food - lots of pies, cookies, and other assorted homemade goodies - like bread, cake, homemade jams and jellies, good music (live) and dancing. Oh and meade. Don't forget the meade.

Actually, it sounds like a five-day ren party - that works - winters are long and cold up here, so really any excuse to get together with good friends, good music, and good food is an awesome idea.

Brain fried...
Night all...

Simone.

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-27T00:34:00.000-04:00

It's been a super long week and it's only Wednesday night. But I'll be honest, I'm exhausted and I'm pretty sure I don't have the where-with-all to rub brain cells together to come up with a coherent story. So instead, I'm gonna share my favorite bunnies and vampires with you.

...Of Night Are Falling

2011-10-25T01:49:00.005-04:00

As I'm still struggling with this idea of doing a little short story for a blog post, I thought I'd do something a bit different. And since the topic is vampire/Halloween stories, and I just so happen to be writing a vampire short at the moment...

Here's an excerpt from it! Hooray!

Heavenly Shades...

‘Please,’ I say. ‘Please.’

But I’m praying to the wrong God. This one has hair like a raven’s wing and hands as cold as stones at the bottom of an icy river, and when I beg him to give me my life back he just murmurs shhhh, shhhh, in a way that should be soothing.

And it almost is. Everything he does is almost soothing, almost tender—like a lover trying to coax me into the most sensuous bout of lovemaking. One hand pressed to my lower back, rubbing and rubbing there. The other in my hair, stroking so softly it makes me sob again.

It’s so close to something sweet, I think. So close I could almost believe in it, if it were not for the true purpose behind the push of his fingers through the newly cleaned strands.

He doesn’t like it to get in his way, when he gets a mouthful of me.

‘Oh my little one,’ he says, against the side of my face. But even without looking I know the teeth are there. I can almost feel the steely press of them, as he comes close to kissing me, as his breath ghosts cool and strange, all over my skin.

‘Don’t,’ I say again, but the word is small and fluttering and he is powerful, so powerful. I can feel the twist of those muscles, beneath the hand I’m pushing against his shoulder—though it’s more than that. He’s like a steel cage, in a way no man should ever be. He locks me in tight, and though he coos and murmurs and tries to calm me down, in the end he always has to force it.

He holds me fast, that hand in my hair now like a vice. And though I know what’s coming, I still squeeze my eyes tight shut for it. I brace myself, and then there’s just his icy mouth against my throat. That eagerness in him, suddenly—despite the fact that he’s never eager for anything.

He’s always slow, so slow and deliberate. After he’d caught me that first time, he’d stalked me like some crouching, clever beast that doesn’t actually exist. A raptor, I always think, but there’s nothing lizard-like about him—apart from the cold. And when you look at him, that cold isn’t there at all.

He looks heated, primal somehow. His hips had practically rolled, as he’d backed me into a corner. And the second I tried to evade him by doing something stupid—like jumping into the swimming pool he never uses, of course he never uses it—he’d just walked right into the water as though it wasn’t even a step down.

Where are you going, Francesca, he’d said, as though I was so silly, to want to get away.

And I suppose he had a point. There’s no getting away, from him. I just have to hang there helpless in his arms, as his lips part and that razor sharpness just grazes my skin. Every inch of me waiting for the worst feeling—the one the movies never suggest.

It’s like a crunch. His teeth slide into me and then there’s the strangest sensation afterwards…like he’s breaking my bones, somehow, even though I know he isn’t. There’s never more than two puncture marks on my skin, afterwards, and no side-effects apart from the lethargy.

But that first shot of pain, so intense it’s almost like pleasure…

It’s unbearable. It’s unstoppable. It’s like a side-effect in its own way, because even when I’m alone I can remember and feel it almost exactly.

What to wear? What to wear?

2011-10-20T00:34:00.000-04:00

Like Simone, my characters personalities, professions and time period dictate their clothing choices. You're not going to see my DNR characters wrangling black bears in a ballgown or a tux. They're going to wear their uniforms. Just like you're not going to see the yoga instructor/new age store owner wearing a Chanel suit.

I try not to go overboard describing clothes unless it's integral to the plot. There's a certain author that I know of who goes to great and torturous lengths to describe every intricate strap, every buckle or grommet on her character's impossibly tight, black leather dresses. The same amount of detail is paid to her legion of male characters. Every silken ruffle, every scrap of lace and every pair of tight leather pants is described. Often for paragraphs. Unfortunately, none of these descriptions are integral to the plot. When I was still reading this series, my frequent thought was, "OMG, I don't care how high the slit is--just fight or fuck already!"

In erotic romance, we kinda need to see what's being taken off, shoved up or pushed down. It's not only part of the genre, but it's also part of the whole atmosphere of the sex scenes. However, we don't need to know there are mother of pearl buttons...unless of course they're being ripped off and are rolling across the floor, because that right there (done right) is kinda hot.

Also, on an only vaguely related side note, someday, I will write a story in which the heroine gets to wear this dress. Because I love it.

It's True About Liam

2011-10-17T21:07:00.005-04:00

Before writing this topic I honestly thought I didn't really consider the clothes my characters wear. I mean, yeah. I usually describe it a bit, if it's important. But then, the thing is - if you're an erotic writer, it IS important. Because while literary fiction can have characters standing around for hours gabbing on without ever once mentioning what they're wearing, in erotic fiction it's different.

Here, I'll give you an example of a scene where clothes need to be described in erotic fiction, but haven't been. Instead, the items of clothing have been replaced by the word "poop":

"He casually slipped his hand beneath her poop, while working on the poops on her poop. She didn't mind admitting that it felt amazing having him unpoop her like this. Every move seemed delberate, until he got to the poops coating her legs - which he slid down, slow and easy. He didn't even seem fazed by the poops on her feet - he simply unbuttoned them and eased them off. Then finally, finally, she got to reach for the poop on his poops."

As you can see, this scene lacks a certain...sanity. And it's just barely erotic. I mean, I could probably get some hits under "scat" on Literotica, but aside from that...no one's getting turned on over this.

So clothes...they're needed in erotica - and not just for taking them off scenes. They're also needed for when I want to describe how totally hot my hero is. Behold:

"His t-shirt clung to the solid expanse of his chest."

You can see the clinging now, right? It wouldn't be as cool if I'd just said "He has a solid expanse of chest". It needs that little item of clothing, to really force it into your mind's eyes.

And what about other body parts?

"His shoulders looked like bowling balls, beneath the smooth silk of his shirt."

And yeah, okay - maybe you wouldn't use bowling ball there. But you get the idea, right?

Especially when I add:

"She could just make out the outline of his thick, sleeping cock through the material of his trousers."

I mean, that just does it for me. The second I hear about seeing cocks through clothes, and I'm just gone - especially if it's a little illicit look. Your heroine's eyes drift down, she's not really thinking she'll see anything and then BOOM. There's a massive Evian bottle in your hero's pants.

And it's not the kind of Evian bottle you drink out of. It's more the kind of Evian bottle Liam Neeson's got inside his underwear.

Ohhh yes. Clothes are important. To my vagina.

Costumes and More

2011-10-17T06:55:00.005-04:00

I've missed a few weeks - I really dispise computer viruses. I got in from GayRomLit in New Orleans very early this morning. If you weren't there you missed a fabulous time! I met so many wonderful people, it was great! I promise I have pictures coming.

Costumes or how do I dress my characters - I think technically, at least for me, they dress themselves. They tell me what they will and will not wear and I have to work within those parameters.

How a character dresses really depends on their personality and who they are in life - how they perceive themselves as well as how others perceive them. I think I pay attention more to how they dress now as part of their personality than I did when I first started writing. But what they wear also has to match the time period/setting of the story, because while contemporary styles are well known, they wouldn't necessarily be appropriate in a fantasy or sci-fi setting.

I am looking forward to seeing what everyone else says this week.

Enjoy,

Simone

Hijacked

2011-10-15T09:32:00.005-04:00

Good morning! I'm hijacking Saturday because I've been absent for weeks. Things around here have been nuts and I've let blogging (and writing) fall to the side in favor of other endeavors. But I miss you all so I thought I'd pop over and bogart the weekend on the blog to say hi and fill you in on all things Dakota.

Since I've been gone I've had a new release, re-opened my Etsy shop, worked my ass off at the day job, and lost almost 20lbs. See, I've been actually busy.

Ok, so it's not exactly a "NEW" release. It's a re-release. But it's awesome. Mitch has always been one of my favorite books. If you've never had a chance to read it I suggest you buy yourself a copy. I honestly believe you will not be disappointed. Not to sound all full of myself or anything. But I just love this book. (Click the cover to buy!)

My coworker and I have been exercising twice a day at work every day and I have noticed a HUGE difference. Plus I've been taking green tea extract, cayenne pepper pills and vitamin D. This has led to dropping almost 20 pounds in two months. I'm so excited I just have to share. I'm down a whole size and have way more energy. I always thought that was a big, stupid myth. That no one LIKES working out and after moving more I would be exhausted not energized. But I really am. It's like...well, it's like a 20 pound weight has been lifted off of me. I'm halfway to my goal weight and I can't wait to see what I look like at a normal weight. Woo Hoo!

As for my Etsy shop...this has been the biggest drag of my time and energy. Between making the jewelry and hanging out with my new Etsy friends I haven't even opened a WIP in weeks. It's super fun and very relaxing, almost meditative for me. My mood has improved ten-fold since starting up with this. Plus I'm selling and making money to buy more Etsy stuff, so it's really a win win for me. (Friends, be prepared for handmade Christmas presents...not necessarily handmade by me.) You can check out my shop here. (Use coupon code DRFAN for 10% off your order. Jewelry makes great stocking stuffers.)

So I'm sorry I've been gone. I will try to do better from now on. Don't feel like you're the only ones I've been blowing off. I haven't been on Twitter either. And I deleted FaceBook from my phone. So see, my socializing has been pretty much nixed. But I miss my friends and I will try to be better with my time management.

Hugs to all and thanks for stopping by.
XoXoXo
Dakota

My Childhood and Writing

2011-10-14T11:33:00.005-04:00

I had trauma and angst. The end.

So, today, I’m going to talk about one of my favorite childhood memories. One of my favorite times. When I was ten, my family lived in Germany. And most every Sunday, we’d drive along the Rhine River (or sometimes the Mosel) and go to the vineyards and visit castles. Sometimes, we’d just drive and marvel at sites we’d never see in the US. There are no castles here. And that’s when I fell in love with medieval history.

Below are a couple videos (not mine) about the Rhine Castles and German Castles in general. Enjoy the sites I saw weekly. These created memories that influence my writing roots. The sweeping historical.

(The Burg Eltz is my Favorite Castle)

(the one at 3:19 is my all-time favorite castle)

Enjoy!!! Brynn

Telling Stories to Myself

2011-10-13T00:34:00.000-04:00

I feel fairly certain that no one gets through their childhood unscathed. Granted, some people’s experiences are far worse than others’. But that doesn’t invalidate any of them. No matter what, we've all got baggage we carry with us, and that set of luggage affects not only who we are as writers, but who we are in everyday life as well.

As a child, I several really awful experiences. I’m not going into detail, because this is a writing blog not a therapy blog, and honestly, for the most part, I’m over them. I’m not indifferent to them, but they’ve certainly shaped the person I am today.

Now, I don’t mean to give the impression that my childhood was utterly miserable – parts of it were awesome. However, when it did suck, I’d tell myself stories. I’d go for long walks in the ravine behind our house and just wander along the creek, making up one story after another as a way to get out of my head and put some distance between the stuff that was going on and me. When I got back, it made dealing with the crap a little easier. I could pull up the stories and escape for a little bit.

When I think back about how those experiences affected me as a writer, I think they gave me the building blocks to create worlds outside of my own. After a while, I made up stories all the time. I’d think about them as I’d fall asleep at night. Even when I didn’t “need” to anymore, I still did it because I realized it was fun. In college, I turned those stories into assignments. Now, I turn them into books.

I’d like to think that I’d still be a writer had I not gone though things that made withdrawing into my own little world appealing, but I don’t know that for sure. However, as far as coping mechanisms go, there are far worse ones out there. And really, I’m glad it led me to my chosen career.

No Vagina Ravings Here

2011-10-11T00:05:00.004-04:00

It's kind of an appropriate topic, this week, as I'm just about to sub the most personal story I've ever written. I don't even want to sub it, really, because I think it says way, way too much about me, and the childhood I had.

I mean, true. I've blown up some of the issues to epic proportions. I've made my heroine's childhood near unbearable, and far more awful than anything I experienced. But even so, there's a grain of truth in there that made writing it very uncomfortable.

I don't think I've ever done that before. Usually I base my stories on nothing more than the random ravings of my vagina, so this is a departure for me. And one I'm not quite sure has worked.

Can a story still be sexy and arousing and sensuous, with a background of some pretty nasty goings-on? Part of me thinks the abuse my heroine goes through makes the freedom she finds in sex and her punk-hero sweeter. But another part of me is just all like:

Oh, let's just not even get into this. Some of the scenes made my palms all sweaty, with just that little echo of reality in them. And I honestly don't know how much readers are going to want sweaty palms, from me.

I'm glad I did it, though. I'm glad I wrote it. It was cathartic, and I suppose in a way it put my own childhood into perspective. Sad things happened, true. I didn't have a great relationship with my Father. Or the first Father I had, who left us. But I think as much as it's made me sweaty-palmed about certain things, it's also made me fierce.

It's meant that I won't be told no. I won't back down, or apologise for being a woman who enjoys reading and writing and thinks that university and learning and being published are things to be proud of. I've married a man who respects women, because I could never settle for anything less.

I'm where I am today, because of my childhood. And if it hurts sometimes, well that's okay. Everyone's childhood hurts them, in some way. It's what we make of it, that counts. It's how we strive for more, and though I sometimes fail I'll never stop striving.

And neither will my heroines.

Regrets? I have plenty.

2011-10-06T00:34:00.001-04:00

My list of regrets is long...really long. For the sake of you at home, I'll try to sum up so as not to bore and/or depress you.

I wish I hadn't...

wasted time that I should have been writing.

ignored the evil orthodontist and wore my headgear and retainer more than I did when I was a kid.

learned to be a better cook.

gained weight.

constantly over-extended myself.

had so much difficulty in learning to say no.

let my friends and family down.

I'm sure there are more I wish I hadn't done. These are just the ones that spring to mind first.

So don't leave me hanging here - what are some of yours?

Now that I've thoroughly depressed myself, I'm going to try to finish that damn book before it becomes another "I wish I hadn't."

My Eyes Are Fine Now, But I'm Still Doing It

2011-10-04T17:29:00.003-04:00

It's so perfect that "I wish I hadn't..." is the topic, this week. Because you know what I wish I hadn't done? I wish I hadn't worked so hard last night that I terrified my right eyeball into submission.

Yeah, that's right. I traumatised my right eyeball. My right eyeball woke up this morning, and was all like: please don't hurt me anymore, man. I can't take it. I'm scared for my life, man! Man, you just don't understand. I have kids to support. I'll get the writing to you tomorrow, swear to God - just don't make me go all wonky and weird again!

Though why my right eyeball talks like a cliched drug addict from an eighties cop drama I do not know. All I do know is that it was all blurry this morning, and I did not like it. I did not like it one bit. I need my eyes to see, Goddamn it. Without them, I can't look at things!

Doesn't my insane thirst to write twenty thousand things at once understand this?

Apparently not. My insane thirst doesn't care, whether I get to gaze upon Ryan Gosling's fabulous ass, or not. It just cares about the eight million stories I need to have finished now now now, and to hell with things like eyesight!

I can always write by using a complicated series of clicks and whistles. Or maybe if I press my mouth to the TV, the sight of Ryan Gosling's ass will pass into me through the power of osmosis. I mean, it's not like I'll be doing anything different, there, to the things I can be usually found doing.

Though I swear to God, when I'm trying to see through my mouth by snogging the TV, I absolutely do not use any tongue. Honestly. Maybe. Oh whatever, I can hardly see out of one eye!

Okay...here's the thing...

2011-09-29T00:34:00.000-04:00

I really wanted to write a fun little story involving Alan Rickman because HolyMotherOfGod who doesn't love Alan Rickman? Only, there's a bit of a problem. It's called Puke-a-Palooza 2011. And it's in my house. Making my life a living hell, so please bear with me while I post my favorite pictures of Alan Rickman and then go to bed and hopefully sleep off this miserable BS flu bug.

Hot Man Ass

2011-09-27T01:05:00.008-04:00

Okay, I'll be perfectly honest here. I do not know what to write. I've never written a story for a blog, before, and I'm just not sure I can do it. Which is stupid, I know, because:

a) I am a professional writer. I write for a living. I'm supposed to be able to do that thing - what's it called again? Oh yeah. WRITING.

and

b) I post on about eleven hundred different blogs now.

Seriously. Why can't I do this? Apart from the fact that I'm not even sure if that's what's being asked for? I mean, Alan Rickman is so hot he practically gives me carpet burn just by looking at me. And when I say looking, I of course mean: I rub myself against the telly box while the DVD of Dark Harbour is paused on the bit featuring his bare ass.

Which is kind of saggy and old mannish, but I don't give a fook. It's Alan fooking Rickman! I'd eat a sandwich off his backside even if it looked like this:

*

He could MAKE me eat a sandwich off of that ass, just by talking to me in that clotted cream and cigar smoke voice. And he wouldn't have to say anything cool, either, like yes, yes, if you eat the sandwich I shall make you have an orgasm the size of my nose.

He could just diligently read stereo instructions to me, in that deliberate way of his.

"And then...cab-BLE B...is AH-ttached to socket...FFFF."

Don't even tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. I know you can hear his voice when I put all those weighty pauses and clipped together words in there. Ever noticed how he kind of emphasises the wrong bits of words sometimes, too? Yeah, now you do.

Now you're going to hear it forever, but don't worry - it won't ruin your enjoyment of him. Alan Rickman is a thing of beauty, to be loved forever. He is a flawless human being, made greater still by his appearance in the Greatest Romantic Movie Of All Time Apart From Maybe Starman and Terminator:

Truly, Madly, Deeply.

My God, I didn't know what to do with myself when I watched this at the age of thirteen. I think I cried so much I had to be hooked up to an IV. Everyone else wrote hideous Mary-Sues about New Kids From The Block. I wrote them about a man five hundred years my senior in a movie about getting over grief and going off with some other loser who isn't Alan Rickman.

I mean seriously. Would you give Alan Rickman up? I'm not even sure I'd care that he was a ghost. It'd probably work out better, in the long run, because he'd stay perpetually at his hottest age (about 912) while I turned into someone's aged grandmother.

Plus you'd half your bills right there, wouldn't you. No extra food to pay for, no clothes to buy him...sounds orsum, if you ask me. Alan Rickman in perpetuity, without any cost or consequences.

I tell you, I watched Truly, Madly, Deeply the way most people make their kids watch Sound of Music: turn it off before the Nazis show up. Don't let them see the horror! Just end it with everyone singing, or in my case:

End it with Alan Rickman shagging me, forever and ever Amen.

P.S. I have a new book out, hooray! Red hot menage, kinky Irishman, married couple who don't know what's hit them...if you want to know more, here's the buy link, where you can find a blurb and excerpt:

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9586-all-other-things.aspx

But even better than that, you can win a copy at my blog!

http://themightycharlottestein.blogspot.com/2011/09/hot-menage-fun.html

Just comment to enter.

*Here I was going to have a humorous picture of an old man's flaccid ass, but unfortunately for the internet such a picture doesn't exist. I guess only women have ugly asses, huh fellas?