Saturday, June 28, 2014

Limited Time: Freebie

You can get my novella Inventing Herself free in this Cariad Passion Collection. It's only free for a limited time so get going and grab yours.


Thursday, June 26, 2014

Why Sometimes Even Buddha Can't Save Me...

So girl child and I went to Trader Joe’s today. I had to pick up a few things and my grandmother had sent a little money. We have those weeks where we don’t know how we’re paying for groceries. And then miraculously someone will slides us a hundred bucks or a fifty or bring groceries (don’t get me wrong, other weeks we’re fine. We’re pretty much day by day around here). The day by day thing is pretty much beside the point, as usual, I digress.

So we had fun finding the stuff we needed. Even though I had specific things in mind you must admit, if you’ve ever been there, the fun and slightly weird feel of TJs makes even a run for essentials sort of amusing. We found soy yogurt for the man (he can’t handle dairy right now), ginger chews for my mom (she’s an addict and since I was there…), frozen blueberries for my smoothies and almond milk and…well, you get the picture. Then it was time to check out. We’d managed to stay below the money we had so I was very pleased.

I felt very happy.

And, since I basically am on duty 24/7/365 right now and have been for the last year, I did something insane at checkout. I did not bag. I decided to let the checkout lady check me out. To actually take care of my groceries. And I was chatting with my daughter.

Then here she comes. The rainbow amoeba. A tall blond woman who got in line behind me. She suddenly pops up at the end of the line and says to the lady waiting on us. “Here. Want me to help you bag?” Even as she begins pawing our groceries and shoving them in TJ bags.

Well, there’s no doubt my kid is my kid because when this woman—an utter stranger to us—began handling our food we both went ramrod straight and utterly silent. Our silly, happy, goofy chatter ceased in a heartbeat and you could have heard a pin drop.

The checkout woman sort of startled and then “Um…sure. If you don’t mind…”

Now, my initial inclinations because I am that person—that person who wants everyone to like me, who wants to help everyone—almost said, “Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll do it.”

But I stopped myself. Because I realized, if I’d wanted to bag my groceries (tbh I usually do) I would have been bagging my groceries. And I refused to be prompted by this buttinsky with a rainbow over her head and a bluebird on her shoulder.

Now you might be saying, “Why would this piss you off?”

Good question! Why?

I just watched an episode of the new show MOM (I just discovered it and I love it) where the mom does everything for her daughter one day, trying to give her a down day, and they shoot to the Christy the daughter, sitting there in a tidy house, kids taken care of, laundry started, left alone, drinking a latte from Starbucks and she says, “Why is this pissing me off so much?” It was just on the other night and ironically, I said to the man, “I’d be pissed too! And I’m not sure why.”

But I know why I was pissed today. This did not feel like an act of kindness. It felt like a jab disguised as an act of kindness. An almost silent “If she won’t” at the end of the sentence. Like this:
“Here. Want me to help you bag? (((if she won’t)))”
And god damn it, I refused to fall for it. I refused to be baited. I deserve to go to a grocery store and stand there if I want to. I usually help, and I refused to be guilted for not doing it for once. For letting the checkout lady do her job. On a very small order, I might add.
Anyway, my daughter and I just stood there watching. We were like very calm predators. No muscles moved, no sounds were made. She said all she was thinking was “Why is this stranger touching our food?” And let’s face it, she’s right. Who the fuck was Mary Sunshine to come up and presume to start pawing my food? She didn’t work there.
Anyway, this is why sometimes even Buddha can’t save me. This did not make me feel warm or fuzzy or helped. It pissed me off and put me on the defensive and Susie Goodshoes is lucky she didn’t get a good jab the neck after the year I’ve had.
Instead, I thanked the clerk (I have a feeling she felt as awkward as we did) and turned to the woman and said, in my best snarky voice, “Welp! Thanks for that?” and then calmly wheeled my shit out of the store.

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

I was kissed by Alison Tyler...

I can die happy now. Most of the blog made me teary eyed but then I got to the "sex quotes" paragraph and I was snorting with laughter. Made my day!

See what I'm talking about here:

Sunday, June 22, 2014

"She tasted like sugar and sex": Sunday Snog

It's Sunday Snog time and I haven't participated in a while. Seemed like a good time to post a fairly inappropriate smooch from the new novella Crossroads. Cover is stellar and of course by Willsin Rowe. This novella originally appeared in Other Magical Creatures from Torquere Press but now it's available as a stand-alone. Ta and da!

More Sunday Snogs at Victoria Blisse's Blog. Go forth and be a voyeur. :)

Happy Sunday :)

Ty eyed the door and sniffed. He could smell her. He sniffed the pink bakery box and smelled past the sugary sweet scent of the cupcakes within. He smelled her, equally sweet, but in a different way. Human, warm, aroused. He closed his eyes and inhaled until his cock got hard. He could smell her excitement on the box as surely as he could smell vanilla and sugar and butter. Her scent had been easy to follow all the way to her front door.
Despite her smell, he wanted to know what she had been doing outside of the Second Street Gallery. He wanted to know what business she had, if any, with Wesley. And he wanted to know what she had thought of the little show they had put on. She had been what had caused him pause during his encounter with Wes, and he would have caught her there if he hadn’t had a brain scrambled by hormones and orgasms.
He banged again and cocked his head, hearing the soft sound of her bare feet hitting the floor inside. She was coming, slowly and cautiously, but coming. The smell of sex and hormones and arousal smacked him in the face like a hot, humid wind. His cock twitched again, and he briefly wondered how he had gone from a long dry spell to being so seriously horny with a hair trigger in a day. 
“Come on,” he growled softly, and then he held his breath. She was right there, right on the other side of the door. He could feel it. He pressed his hand to the white-washed wood and waited for her to eye him up through the security hole. 
He nearly waved to her, but thought that might freak her out. He could feel her trepidation, and it made his heart constrict. “I know what you are,” he said, picking up the tingling electric feel of her magic even as he said it. My God. How had he not picked it up at the gallery? Had the sex scent short circuited his sense of smell? “You’re a witch. What do you want with Wesley? I won’t hurt you,” he added, knowing she could hear him. Then he smiled. 
He heard her gasp from inside, and that made him smile. “I work for Wesley,” she said so softly that a normal human never would have heard her. 
“That makes two of us,” he answered. “Now will you open the door? You left your cupcakes. Xrated cupcakes, from what I can see.”
“I don’t know.” She sounded even more nervous if that was possible.
“Come on, it’s the least you can do after watching such an intimate moment.”
This time, when she gasped, he really couldn’t help it. He laughed. A long, silken laugh that made him relax to the point that his body gave a slight ripple. A human watching him might have thought their vision had gone blurry and distorted for a moment. They would see the sharpening of his facial features and a shift in his musculature. Then they would rub their eyes and his human side would have reasserted itself and he would be normal looking. But she was not the run-of-the-mill human. When he laughed and his body rippled with the pure joy of his amusement, she breathed, “My God. You’re a shifter. A feline.” He could hear the awe in her voice. 
When he sniffed, he could smell the spike of her curiosity and attraction. She wanted him. He could smell it as easily as he could smell her perfume: vanilla, lavender and honeysuckle. Nice. “Open the door, please. I won’t hurt you. And I’d like to see your face. If you’re going to lust after me, then the least you can do is let me see your pretty face.”
He heard the chain, and then the door was cracked. “How do you know I have a pretty face?” she asked. “How do you know I’m pretty at all?”
Ty shrugged and firmly and steadily pushed on the door until she was forced to step back.
“Easy,” he said as more and more of her came into view. “You smell pretty.” 
Then the door was open and there she stood, a short white nightgown her only defense against him. The light behind her highlighted the fact that she wore nothing under it. The scent of her in the small house said she had just orgasmed, the more intense scent coming off of her in waves saying she wanted him. Badly. 
She had backed up into the middle of the living room and stood there panting like some small animal that had been cornered. Ty raised his head and sniffed. He pinned his eyes to her gorgeous, flushed face and set the bakery box down on an ottoman. A pink ottoman that was threadbare in spots, total vintage. Just like most of the room, he saw as his gazed ticked left and right and assessed every little thing. “You smelled pretty, but you are fucking stunning.” 
When he stepped toward her, her slim, bare feet whispered on the hardwood floor. She was tall; he liked women tall. Her bright green eyes were full of fear, but in there with the fear was a bright and shining excitement. Her lips pursed in a petal pink “o” of surprise, and he reached forward slowly, pushing his fingers gently into her nearly black hair. Bed head was her friend. The whole look of her, slightly disheveled, her pulse high, gave her a come and fuck me air that made him harder than he thought he could get following such a thorough and stellar blowjob from Wes. 
“But, I… um…”
“I’m going to kiss you, so don’t scream, okay?”
Before she was done nodding, he had pushed his lips to hers and buried his tongue inside the sweet warmth of her mouth. She tasted like sugar and sex. She stilled for a moment, frozen against him as if terrified. Then her slender arms wound around his neck, and she pressed her lean body against his. Ty kicked the front door shut with his boot. “Why were you there tonight?” he asked, thumbing her nipples through her well-washed nightie. “You’re not one of them are you? You don’t smell like it, but I have to protect Moore. Wesley, I mean.”
“To show him my cakes. And one of who? What?” Her gaze never left his mouth, and he leaned in and bit her plump bottom lip. She let out a little cry, but her hips shot forward and bumped his.
His cock was achingly hard, and the smell of her was filling his head, dimming his vision and his rational thought. 
“The bad guys. Wesley has hired me for security. He had some threats.”
“Oh, no,” she said, but her lips were working against this. Ty grabbed her ass, hiking her up higher and flush against his hard-on. This was bad, very bad, fucking another of the staff. Not a good move, but beyond thinking how bad of an idea it was, he was powerless to stop himself. Soft and warm and very willing, her pulse was nearly audible to him.
“Yeah. We’ll work it out. I’ll keep him safe.”
She startled him when she first ground her pussy hard against the ridge of his dick and then said against his mouth, “What does he taste like? Wesley? What does he taste like?”
Ty cupped the back of her head and kissed her so hard he feared he might bruise her. “You’re tasting him. He was the last person I kissed. How do we taste?” He worked her tongue brutally hard until she went soft in his arms. “What do Wesley and I taste like?”

Thursday, June 19, 2014

"You need to update," he says...

Now he's telling me when to blog. ;) LOL. Okay, okay, I admit it's been a while. I have a few small things to share. More in my head but today is a lazy-brained day. We had some raging storms here last night and my sleep was all disrupted. Throw in Core Speed as my workout today and that drained the last of my energy.

Small thing #1:

An excellent review of Alison Tyler's Never Say Never earned me a nod. Yay for nods! I love nods!

Go HERE to read the whole shebang.

Small thing #2:

My EAT ME offering to Ms. Tyler. A stellar burrito bowl dinner (from Pinterest no less) from last night reheated for lunch today. It was soooooo good. And the book happens to be sooooo good too! Tasty meets tasty on my place mat.

Small thing #3:

Yay, mail! The Accidental Cougar paperbacks are so lovely. So happy to have them in my hot little hands! (forgive the crazy messed up workout hair. Shaun T is good for my body but not so much for my 'do).

And there's all my small things. Tada!


Thursday, June 12, 2014

So this is pretty amazing...

Edited by Alison Tyler, cover by Willsin Rowe, and stuffed with amazing authors. Full deets HERE.

I've been meaning to post some stuff about the things that have been done for us. But I still get too emotional. It's easy to write a book (to me) but sometimes a simple blog post can fell me. I have a lot to say. I just need to make sure I say it right. And do it justice.

Much love,

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Shit People Stole From Me That I Want Back

I am a creature of habit. Aren’t we all? What I mean by habit, though, is I grow attached to things and then companies up and take them away from me. There are products I downright mourn to this day. You may have heard some of these. Maybe not. Either way, I miss these things and I want them back.

The Body Shop, you owe me the original lavender shower gel scent. And while we’re at it, the bergamot. What the bloody fuck? They were the best scents. Clean, natural, perfect. I don’t want a bloody moonlit garden or a star grazed meadow. I just want lavender and bergamot. Is that so wrong?

Aussie Shampoo, where the hell is the original scent? The original scent of the Three Minute Miracle and the Original Shampoo is an earmark of my coming of age years. A scent reminder of my youth. And it is gone. Gone, gone, gone. Why would you ‘fix’ something that wasn’t broken?

And let’s talk about green Starbursts. Remember them? No? Then apparently you are younger than me. Because I had them growing up and they were the best. And none of that tropical shit. That's green as in lime NOT GREEN APPLE, bitches. Lime. Green=lime. Not green apple. What is with everyone trying to shove green apple down my throat? It’s horrid and the worst part about it is it definitely is not lime.

And on the topic of GREEN BLOODY APPLE, Skittles, I demand you return the lime candies and ditch the noxious green apple. Even girl child pointed out the other day that on the package it said “Original” and then went off quite angrily about how it is not “original” as the green are now green apple. And the worst part is you forget. You pop one in your mouth and boom! What the hell is that?

AMERICAN Mars Bars. Now! I know that the UK Mars Bar is basically our Milky Way (or so I’ve been told) but we used to have a candy bar here called the Mars Bar. Then it went poof. And I was sad. Luckily, this one had a happy ending. Boy child did some research and found out that the Mars Bar in the US was simply renamed: Snickers with Almonds. Haha! Win!

See that. I miss candy and grooming products. Yes, I’m weird. Yes, there are more, but they have fled my mind. So at some point you should be seeing Shit People Stole From Me That I Want Back: Part Duex.Oh, and if you have any insider info about these products, perhaps that like the American Mars Bar they are hiding under a top secret name in a Product Protection Program, please let me know. I'd love to smell good and eat some green Starbursts.


Saturday, June 7, 2014

A New Reader's Guide to Me

I got another one today. Another what? Another email that said basically "I read your story in ___anthology X___ and really liked it. What book do you recommend I start with from your list?" That's paraphrasing to protect the innocent, but beleive it or not, I get a lot of these emails and I thought...duh. Why not give people and idea of what they'd like depending on...well, what they already like!?

Why I have not thought of this before I do not know. I'm a bit slow on the uptake at times. So here we go:

For the Super Romantical Type Person:

Poster Boy for Average. A lot of my romantics love this book. They also love that it's a no b.s. love story. No bells, or whistles or trickery. Just a love story.

Lost in You. My newest from HarperCollins Mischief Books is a romance story through and through. I was asked to write a romance heavy novel with 'lighter language' and jumped at the chance/challenge. So if some of the racier words put you on edge, you'll like this one. Don't get me wrong, you'll still get heaping spoonfuls of sex...just more delicately worded if you will.

Restricted Release. Not a conventional love story but definitely a highly romantic love story with a twist. Loads of sex, explicit, and all that good stuff but heavy on emotion and the feels. I love this one. Unabashedly.

For the Sex Lover:

The Accidental Cougar. Fun. Not overly complicated. Read in two settings kind of book with lots of sex. Good stuff! I love it. But ya know...I'm biased.

Wanderlust. I put this out myself. It was a novel I happened to write 'live'. A blog post every day for...I have no idea how many days. What it turned into was the longest novel I ever wrote. 88,000 words I think. Road trip, family dysfunction, the bad boy (shorn and growly), the girl who wants to find herself. Bondage and angst and cross country travel, oh my!

Calendar Girl. One girl, twelve months, a new lover each month. I can't even begin to tell you how much I have adored this book from day one. Oh, and let's not forget some drag queens. How can you forget the drag queens?

Sex, Sex, Sex...:

This category is called that because I've actually gotten some reviews that say "Just sex, sex, sex..." Some people meant it as a positive, others not so much. But if that's your thing then...

Boys Next Door. Three men, one woman, maximum passion. 'Nuff said.

Restless Spirit. Three men want her, only one can truly possess her. Again...that sums it up!

Learning to Drown. Two men--brothers--one girl with a need to be dominated. Will she belong to both of them or will one win out over the other? Gasp! I can't wait to find out.

Some Magic with Your Sex:

The paranormal category!

Dirty Magic. Just out (only in paperback) from Ellora's Cave. Contains two favorites. The novel Dirty or Die and the novella Automagically. One's a haunted house, one's sister witches. What's not to love?

Under My Skin. A novella about undying love and ghostly closure.

Crossroads. An extravaganza of demons, shifter and witches, oh my!! Just out from Excessica but originally appeared in Other Magical Creatures.

Quick! Before the Zombies Come!

That's right. I have a zombie trilogy. Don't worry. The people are having the sex, not the undead. The trilogy consists of a lot of drama, killing, danger, weapons and plenty of sex (M/F and M/M and M/F/M/M if you must know). The trilogy is We Kill Dead Things, No Guilt and Lunatic Fringe. (Note: all three are available in a single paperback volume "Zombie Exterminators")

Then as an extra special bonus there's the dystopian sorta a zombie novel Hollow Men. *Please note that Hollow Men is a stand alone novel. You do not have to read the entire new reality line to understand any of the novels in the line.

M/M Lovers:

My Divination Falls trilogy should wet your whistle. It does fall in the category of paranormal as well. The books are: Lion Hearted, Beast in Me and Kiss Me, You Animal.

My favorite M/M that is not paranormal is Blank. It was written a long time ago but still holds a special place in my heart. Full of fear, anger and ultimately redemption I still love it beyond words.

I think I've covered most of it. If you think of anything I missed shoot me an email. But these are my official recs if you are just starting to read me. And if you're just starting to read me...hey...THANKS!