Monday, December 26, 2011


Stop being foolish.

There it was again. The harsh mental rebuke. Cree knew she shouldn’t want any part of Stephen Silver, but she did. Thank goodness the pulsating beat of her desire wasn’t loud enough to hear. Then everyone else would know, too. That knowledge alone threatened to tear at the fibers of her self-esteem. Granted, Stephen didn’t touch normal. He claimed superb as his adjective. At six feet four inches with ocean blue eyes, regal nose, and strong jaw, he commanded attention when he walked into any room, the way thieves snatched purses.

No. She did not want any part of him.

Including this one, she thought, folding her arm across her scarlet sequined gown. She watched Stephen drift across the room, carrying an uneaten piece of cake in his hand, stopping at dinner tables, receiving air kisses, real smooches, and handshakes. Feeling like a drone in a beehive, Cree adjusted her clutch from one hand to the other and headed out the double French balcony doors. The cool, night air felt good against her hot skin, and she sighed into the fragranced embrace of the evening. Cree leaned on the balcony. Hidden under the spring night’s gloom, floral scents rose up and fragranced the air, surrounding her in perfumed delight.

Funny. The city of Greensboro decided to throw Stephen a ‘keys to the city’ celebration at his own home. Here, we’ll celebrate your accomplishments. It seemed entirely backwards to her. With a shrug, she inhaled, closing her eyes to increase the intensity of the garden’s aroma, so wonderful and light. Exhaling in regret, she slowly opened her eyes. All across the gently rolling land, darkness claimed trees, bushes, flower beds, and benches. Most people’s backyards didn’t look like Central Park. But then most people weren’t Stephen Silver.

Smirking, she thought about her boss. He had everything, even her love—albeit unrequited, though he hardly knew it. She, purely and simply, only ranked as just another of his many employees. The slices of vanilla and chocolate cake being passed out were physical puns on the name of his company—CAKE. He owned CAKE—Commercial Advertising for Kernersville Enterprises, an advertising firm in Greensboro. It had originally begun in Kernersville, a small town nestled in the Triad area, and hence the K in CAKE. Stephen moved the business to Greensboro within a short time after launching the company. CAKE also provided print, online, and television advertisement developments for area businesses and government offices.

“Now, there is a wonderful view,” came the deep resonant voice from behind her.

The triangle between her thighs warmed at the rich sound of it. He was like a keyless remote; he spoke and her legs unlocked. She caught herself melting and straightened up, tucking her rogue hair behind her ears. Tonight she’d stand her proverbial ground and not give in to whatever Stephen Silver wanted.

“Evening, Mr. Silver,” she said, hating the little pant that came after the words. Damn it—she sounded breathless, like his every other female want-to-be lover. Pulling from her gut, she summoned her courage and strength.

He pinned those eyes on her. Blue, but burning in their intensity, they threatened to incinerate all her resolve. Instead of hardening in her resolve, her heart skipped in response. That damn smirk appeared on his face as if he knew the effect he had on her.

“You know, when you refer to me as Mr. Silver, it makes me sound like an arrogant asshole, so please call me Stephen,” he said, breaking the thick silence.

“Yes, Mr. Stephen.”

He laughed, taking his hands from his pockets. “Just Stephen, please, Cree.”

“Yes, sir.” Cree wanted to dissolve right there or swallow her own tongue—whichever would get her out of a one-on-one conversation with her fantasy man. Once she thought it, she couldn’t unthink it. As her thoughts raced through her mind, she blushed at every fantastic detail of their pretend lovemaking she’d ever envisioned. The fantasies always featured him and they sprang forward in two second intervals, like some mental movie trailers of coming attractions.

He watched her intensely from beneath those thick blonde lashes. With a squeak, she issued a fast goodbye. Bolting for the doors, she nearly made it to safety, when he grabbed her arm before she cleared the entrance.

“Stay awhile. There are some things I want to talk to you about.”

His tone shifted, softened like wet wood left out in the rain.

“You want to talk to me—sir?” She allowed him to spin her gently around to face him.

She couldn’t pull the words back after they left her mouth. Inside she groaned at the weakness in them, but she had been too stunned to send them through her internal filter. They talked a lot about business things, usually with a group of other people, but one on one… alone? Goose bumps sprouted across her bare arms. She blamed the breeze.

He now held both her arms, his thumbs rubbing her bare skin, stroking her. They felt nice. If those two digits caused this much pleasure, what would two hands bring, oh, and not just his hands, but…

Stop! She halted that saucy line’s progression.

“I mean, what can I do for you, sir?” she added.


“Stephen,” she repeated with a hard voice, shoving her want as down deep as she could. Mentally, she rebuked herself for being silly. “I’m sure we can discuss business at a later date. Tonight the mayor just gave you the keys to the city for CAKE’s charitable contributions. Maybe you can…”

He shrugged off her words like they didn’t matter. “I do not want to discuss business, Cree. I want to talk about something more—personal.”

“No, um, listen, if you need me to, I can get Kevin,” she suggested. Kevin was Stephen’s personal assistant. She so didn’t like the sound of this.

They hardly had anything beyond business to discuss. Really. Until the moment he touched her arm, she thought that had been all they were ever going to do. Now he wanted to discuss something other than work. No, she definitely didn’t like the sound of this.

“No, sorry. I need your help. This cannot wait,” he said coolly. He must’ve realized he held her arms and quickly let her go.

The usual self-assured swagger left his voice and his face, and in their wake, a current of concern, perhaps even uncertainty, arose. Stephen briskly rubbed his face and turned away from her. Darkness swirled around the hills like a cloak around the ankles of a vampire—concealing and shaping simultaneously. Spellbound by Stephen’s crisp suit flanked with velvety blackness, Cree couldn’t take her eyes off of him, couldn’t leave him to whatever troubled him. If he showed her his usual arrogance, she could have left—but not this.

Not now.

He reached the balcony’s overhang and gripped the stone edges. “I, Cree, where to begin…”

She had never seen him like this—on the brink of despair. To be completely truthful, she never saw him flinch, or not smiling and schmoozing. And she’d been with him since the beginning of CAKE.

“Stephen, what’s the matter?” She walked to him. Hesitation caused her to stop several feet away.

Even though she didn’t know what he wanted, she didn’t like this, not one bit. All signs hinted to trouble, with boldface, 72-sized font and capital T. All logic ordered her to get the hell up outta Dodge, but her heart pinched in concern for him.

He glanced over his shoulder and then away.

That spiked Cree’s curiosity. What could cause the great Stephen Silver to come to her, a mere manager that worked on the first floor?

He spoke quietly, so soft she had to close the distance between them to even hear. Now, inches from him, Cree caught the thread of his conversation, though she’d missed the first whispered words.

“…my father. So, you can understand why I will need one rather quickly, yes?” he finished and turned to her.

Cree saw the relief wash over him. Those ocean blue eyes threatened to engulf her.

“Yes, I agree,” she said, though she had no clue as to what she had agreed. All she could make out was that he needed someone to agree and he needed it fast, so she gave it.

Stephen broke out into a grin so wide, it reached ear to ear. His obvious relief showed completely apparent in his body’s stance. Relaxed, the issue over, his usual candor returned washing over him in waves. Cree watched him return to himself again. She scowled inside. Surely that had to be the biggest let- down of her life.

“That’s it, sir?”

His eyebrows shot up at her flat tone. “It? This is not enough. We have to do this thing right, Cree.”

She shrugged. He could do whatever he wanted on his own time. Tonight had been a total bust. Her stomach gently growled and she decided that a trip past the buffet tables might give her a snack before the long drive back to the city.

At that moment, Stephen Silver got down on bended knee. Still smiling, he took her hand in his and fished around in his pocket with the other hand.

“What are you doing?”

Cree’s heart leapt into her throat and threatened to squeeze further until it completely obstructed her windpipe. With her body tingling in warning, she couldn’t get her mouth to speak or her legs to run.

This can’t be what it looks like. Really?

“I’m making it official,” he said matter-of-factly. He glanced up at her face then, and frowned. “You have already said yes, I know, but this will just make it better.”

Better! Cree internally wailed. She rewound their conversation in her head. What had she agreed to that warranted this? When did she say yes to a marriage?

“Cree Caruthers, will you be my wife?” he asked, pulling a crushed velvet box from his pocket. He released her hand and removed the engagement ring. It glistened in the moon’s pale light.

Even with her nerves rattling she could tell the ring cost a lot of money.

She gulped and cursed her dry throat because she really wanted to vomit. This couldn’t be happening! Yes, she dreamed of marrying Stephen Silver, and yes, she had wanted that more than anything besides a PhD in medieval literature, but not like this…

“Please…” she managed and fell back a step.

“Excellent!” Stephen slipped the ring onto her finger before she had a moment to run. Though he had to reach and slip it on quickly, he didn’t appear to be out of sorts for doing it.

Cree snatched her hand back but it was too late. Her ring finger already felt too heavy.

Damn it for fitting. Damn her quivering heart and knocking knees.

“Stephen,” she croaked, her cheeks hot, her legs like rubber bands. “I’m not sure about this. Can we—“

He popped a kiss on her forehead and squeezed her now-engaged hand.

“Relax. I’ll be a good husband.”

He winked at her.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Janet Eckford: Til death, do us part...

Janet Eckford: Til death, do us part...: Greeting my little ghouls and ghoulettes, I'd written a short story in the past that explored the idea of what does it mean to love a mons...

Friday, October 21, 2011

Want an iPad? It’s easy to enter.

Want an iPad? It’s easy to enter.

wanna see my unca jim in a kilt,

i already have so i need you all to pass this around
and maybe me or you can win an Ipad@


Thursday, June 16, 2011

Shara Azod: Not Hot Enough For You?

Shara Azod: Not Hot Enough For You?: "Take a trip into the back seat for a spicy lunch or midnight snack to get you all hot under the collar!! Zoe was content with her life as..."

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Shara Azod: SHHHHHHH!!!!!! Coming Friday....

Shara Azod: SHHHHHHH!!!!!! Coming Friday....: "Guess Who's Coming It pissed Soleil off so much. Didier had excellent ultra alpha potential. Alphas don’t sulk however; it was ..."

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Shara Azod: New Release!!!

Shara Azod: New Release!!!: "Click to Purchase Dr.’s Orders by Marteeka Karland & Shara Azod Dani's in need of some medical advice. A late night examination proves ..."

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Shara Azod: Tomorrow!!!!

Shara Azod: Tomorrow!!!!: "Cinco de Mayo was a time to celebrate Hispanic heritage. Persia Andersen would like to celebrate it alright-after all, it was part of what h..."

Sunday, April 17, 2011


Shara Azod: VOTE FOR BADLAND WARRIORS!!!!!!: "Hey y'all my book Badland Warriors: Vikings is up for Book of the Week at Whipped Cream so please show some love and vote for a sister. The ..."

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Wylder Magick Out Today!!

Finally, after more than a year of fielding nothing, my book comes out from ChangelingPress. Elias Wylder was my first "bad boy" and predates Hunter from the Werewulf Journals. The only thing that could tame Elias is his mate, Morven, but she's escaped him and is hiding until a year is up and she can claim her freedom. It doesn't matter that what she wants most is Wylder. He's too powerful, his magic overwhelming. She fears he'll swallow her, comsume her untill there's nothing left but a robot willing to do his will.

But Elias isn't one to take no for an answer. He is willing to make concessions. He's willing to do whatever Morven wants. The only thing he's not willing to do is let her go. Because if she leaves, she'll take his heart with her. Read an excerpt here:

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

The Very Necessary Art of Saying Nothing


The Jeanie and Jayha walk in all wide-eyed looking around this strange place.

“What is this place, Momma?” The Jeanie asks.

“I’m not sure. It’s so strange in here. Wait, there’s some wording up ahead. Let’s check it out,” Jayha answers as they make their way over.

“Oh, this is a blog,” The Jeanie says.

“Yeah, it is. Should we write something since we’re here?”

“Might as well. Then let’s run away fast before someone expects us to do this on a regular basis,” The Jeanie says.

Jayha translates. “By ‘regular basis’ The Jeanie means ‘ever again.’

The Blog Proper:

People claim that they want the truth. We’ve found that to be not just a lie, but a da*n lie in many situations. People don’t want the truth; people want to hear only what they want to hear. If what they hear happens to be the truth, that’s coincidence. When you tell them anything other than what they want to hear, you run the risk of being labeled a nAgger (please not the second letter is A not I)…or worse.

Many men complain that women nag them. This might be true in some cases, just as it’s most likely true that there was an equal action that led to the alleged nagging. Odds are that nagging wouldn’t be necessary if you simply did what you were supposed to…the first ten times someone asked you to do it. If you weren’t going to do it, man up and say you’re not going to do it. That line of action saves everyone time and energy. It might also save you from an unplanned trip to the ER and your significant other/publisher/homie from being featured on an episode of “Cops.”

Note to readers who are at risk for being featured on the aforementioned show: Please have a t-shirt nearby and a slide your feet into a pair of shoes before you answer the door. Also, if you haven’t done any hardcore jogging in say EVER, then don’t make a run for it. Of course, if you’re highly likely to be featured on COPS than you won’t heed this message. All good, just make a run for it in the daytime so we get a good view of you getting run down, tazed, and kicked in the ribs before being tossed in the back of the cop car.

Where were we? Oh yeah, we were talking about nagging. When people complain about their (insert person) nagging, we just want to warn them. “F*ck the nagging. Be on the lookout for the silence.”

You can hide things in silence—not that unregistered handgun and illegal stash of drugs you have, but other stuff like intent. Silence has an inherent dualism that makes it both great and tragic. It’s defined not simply by dictionaries but most frequently by the event that invokes it. Additionally, it can be used as a weapon by the one who wields it or as a shield by the one who holds it.

Silence can be eloquent… “The most profound statements are often made in silence.” —Lynn Johnston

Silence can be a betrayal… “The cruelest lies are often told in silence.” —Robert Louis Stevenson

Silence can be a command…or a response … "I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We've been taught that silence would save us, but it won't." -Audre Lorde

Sometimes silence is the only place you can go when you’re bombarded by dumb sh*t…and not just dumb sh*t, but dumb sh*t for no da*n reason. It’s as if someone gave a directive to “cue the crazy.”

Let’s look at some of the examples of crazy that Jeanie and I prepared earlier.

Authors who swear out that not only do they not need proofreading, but they also don’t need editing...despite the fact that their email is filled with spelling errors, double negatives, and one of those misspelled words is their own name.

Authors who read your submission guidelines and yet begin the first line of their query letter with, “I know you said you don’t accept submissions that (insert rule) but, I’m going to submit this anyway.”

Authors who have a book that’s about to drop with one publisher and yet only advertise the books they have with other publishers…that came out two years ago…and got jacked up reviews. And then ask you why they’re not on the bestseller’s list. BWAH HA HA HA.

While we might have nagged our fellow authors about such things before…both Jeanie and I are too tired to really waste our time repeating ourselves. We can’t give a da*n more than the author gives a d*mn. We’re just going to use our time writing wild stories and reading hot ones. And every now and then, we blog.

—Jeanie and Jayha

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Sunday, March 13, 2011

A New Beginning...

Hello, all.

I've been a long time absent, in the body, if not in thought, from the goings on of my internet families. A ton of things have interfered, interrupted and basically disrupted my time. The main elements have been my children. Twins: Christian and Jacqueline.

They've turned eighteen and finally, the wondrous, highly-anticipated year of at hand! October 16 was B-day. Not to be so abrupt, I graciously gave them two months to get their affairs in order before walking the plank, er, I mean...finding their own place.

I have waited for this with bated breath, longed for it with wishful sighs... wanted it like an eagle wants roadkill. And when I have it within my grasp, lo and behold, they don't want to leave the nest!

Bear in mind, these are the two who have been threatening to declare themselves Emancipated Minors at sixteen. The two who have moaned and groaned about never being treated like adults or as if they have a damned brain (which I don't disagree with, I simply postulate they have no THOUGHTS in their damned brains).

Well, I wasn't having any of that! Like all good mama birds, I kicked them out of the nest. It was a firm kick, solidly placed between the deep valley of those plump butt cheeks that have been lying around denting my furniture for the last sixteen years. Those same cheeks that have been growing enormously due to the inordinate amount of MY food the mouths attached to said buttocks have been devouring.

For all that, it was a loving kick. The twins need to finish maturing and in order to do that, they need to be out from under mama. First, because when I tell them to do something or attempt to give them advice, they tell me, "I'm a grown _____" and I have to remind them that grown folk pay rent. And buy their own food. And fund the local electrical plant, etc., etc., etc. So with their good in mind, I only smiled, not laughed out loud, as I gently but insistantly pushed them out.

With the wherewithal to survive that first month, and a firm stricture to remain gone until I have time to miss them. They've already disobeyed. Why am I not surprised?

First, Jackie was thrown out of the place she was staying. Something about her mouth, and her saying, "I paid rent and I have the right to..." one too many times. Sigh. Her first lesson in "What part about these people are not your momma and don't have to put up with your shyte, don't you understand?"

True to my word, I didn't let her back in, which forced her to bestir herself to find alternative lodgings. I did drive over so she could cart her stuff back to my house for storage, with the understanding that I would start to charge rental fees on it if it remains here past a month. That went over like a house on fire.

So now I am Mean Mom, but since I've been mean mom for the last two years, I can live with the title. At least I'm By Myself Mean Mom, who doesn't have to lock her doors or gaurd her fridge or count her sodas, cookies, bags of chips, lunchmeat, cheese or popcorn. At least I'm When I Clean the House It Stays Clean Mean Mom.

I can deal with that.

I LIKE that. If I get any positive response to the above and interest in knowing how its going, I'll continue the saga of the New Adults in My Life.

Now, to get back to the reason I posted...


I'd like to introduce the cover of the book, Wylder Magick, coming out at Changeling the end of March. This is my first release since Hunting Chase almost two years ago. For some reason, I'm finding a new release of imagination and energy. Wylder Magick isn't a new book. It was originally released through Elora's Cave in the Hot Spell Anthology. I've reedited and expanded it for your reading pleasure in advance of the second book coming in that Universe. I'll be posting an excerpt soon.
Meanwhile, thanks for listening to my ramblings. Life is like visiting the County Fair. It's no fun if you don't ride!
-Camille Anthony

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Aloe Blacc - If

Totally digging this.

Available Now!

Tiressa just wanted a drink. After weeks of lonely space, one breakdown after another, and delays of every kind, she wants to relax for a few hours while the Nebula storm passes. When she orders a White Russian straight up, what she gets isn't at all what she expected!

As a spy so deep undercover only the Supreme Commander knows his mission, Yuri Dubnikov fully expects to be executed. He's pleasantly surprised to land in the hands of a luscious woman, instead. If he can win Tiressa's trust, he may have a chance to save his mission. And his life.

Fortunately, Tiressa's as drawn to Yuri as he is to her. Their chemistry, when they collide, will be explosive.

Thursday, February 24, 2011


Tabitha turned and grinned over the long plank bar at the patrons of O’Shea’s Irish pub. Here was a pub with the true substance of the Emerald Isle. They had fae mixing it up with brownies and sprites. Leprechauns and djinn shot pool, and druid maidens swayed to Bocephus. Okay, so the Bocephas weren’t really an Irish thing, but Tabitha was from Texas, and since she couldn’t get them to listen to any rap or hip hop and she was frankly frightened of their knowledge of Motown and their love of artist like Bobby Blue Bland and Clarence Carter and Denise la Salle, she passed her time watching them bond with the humans over the countries newest acts and biggest hits.

Her boss was definitely Irish. The coppery red hair that was currently cut close and spiky on top of his head. The piercing green eyes that where often deeper than the whole Atlantic Ocean. Those were her favorite parts. Well, those and his massive shoulders and chest. Maybe those washboard abs or God—hey, she may be in a bar full of creatures and mythical critters, it only reinforced her belief in one true God—Seamus’s ass. No doubt about it. Irish looked hunky, handsome and damn fine on Seamus.

“You’re staring at me like you’ve missed your morning meal again, Tab,” Seamus said from over his shoulder.

Sure, she wanted to get in his bed and find out if the bulge running up the left side of his pants was real or just a hunk of German sausage.

Monday, February 14, 2011



Title: Beauty & the Geek: Rocket to LoveAuthor: RaeLynn BluePublisher: Mocha Memoirs Press, LLCPurchase Link: Contemporary Interracial Erotic Romance ISBN: 978-0-9831934-8-7Price: 3.99 Blurb: While recreational shopping, Jewel Isles and her friends discover all kinds of deals and steals at the Atlanta Shoe and Purse Expo. While relaxing in the restaurant of a neighboring hotel, Jewel heads to the ladies room, but nearly trips over a geeky, but surprisingly handsome man. Ben Wook Sun, NASA scientist and Star Trek® lover, didn’t understand why beautiful women like Jewel Isles insisted on dating men who lacked intellectual depth. Adjusting his black-rimmed glasses, Ben made the conscious decision to convince Jewel that he was the best for her—period. It didn’t take a muscle-bound brute to scoop her up and whisk her away. He was more than capable. But first, he had to get her to go out on a date with him. Astrophysics, this wasn’t.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

We're proud to present our newest member


Janet's a kick AZZ chick who's been hanging around the fold for a hot minute. She brings us joy and excitement everyday. From her lusty stories to her outrageous adventures with "sig other, best friend and baby".

This knitting, baking... *GULP* dare we say it VEGETARIAN has warmed her way in to the hearts of 12 meat lovers like no one ever could. And we are super happy to have her in our ranks.

Want to know more about Janet and read some of her super fine books?

and HERE (I, Drea Riley, personally love this story)

Oh and since I outed myself as the poster, I might as well throw a HAPPY DIRTY 30 wish out to my young companion. Janet and I share the position as "youngest" in the crew! I hope you got some sexy new shoes and rock the Hell out of your day!.

Saturday, February 5, 2011


It has been five long, rain-soaked days since anyone had heard from Dash Lowery. Evelyn Sharpe waited and believed he would return. Just because she was undead didn’t mean she couldn’t love. And she loved Dash Lowry.
Dash Lowry’s many years of a priest never prepared him for the night vampire lord called him to his castle. It sure didn’t prepare him to be turned to a vampire by night’s end. After five agonizing days, he had a decision to make. Go back to Evelyn as a new man, or start his new life over in eternal darkness alone.
Despite the cloud coverage, Evelyn and Dash will bring the rain.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Lookey Lookey @ RAELYNN BLUE

Purchase Link: RaeLynn BluePublisher: Beautiful Trouble Publishing Blurb: Upon graduating from the cadet training academy, Janna Jameson's career as a spaceship engineer is bright, shiny, and full of promise. However, assigned to the galaxy-class spaceship Sirius, she’s managed to incorrectly configure the rear thrusters, burn out the food replicas in cafeteria six, and lose both her glove and her left boot—rookie mistakes that Janna suspects aren’t. Nevertheless, she's off to a rough start. Summoned to the captain's meeting room for a meeting that has been weeks in the making, Janna swears her day can't get much worse, until the turbo lift comes to a shuddering halt. Janna’s not simply trapped inside a turbo lift; she’s trapped inside a turbo lift with the one man who excites her more than a brand new stunner array—Trent Taylor. Years ago, newly promoted junior commander Trent Taylor held back his love for Janna to allow her to pursue her career—a necessary choice that pained him. Finding himself locked inside a turbo lift with Janna, he's going to take full advantage of his second chance. He’s never wasted an opportunity before—and he’s not going to start today. **EXCERPT** The turbo lift’s metallic doors opened softly, and she stalked through them, her entire demeanor spiraling down toward dangerous. Her hands itched to punch something, or better someone—Pike would be first in line. “Evening, private,” came the deep resonate and knee-weakening voice that made all the female soldiers simply sigh in unison when he spoke on the ship-wide communication. Janna closed her eyes and swore. On a spaceship filled with thousands of privates, civilians, soldiers, and commanders, why did she find herself alone in a turbo lift with her secret academy crush—Commander Trent Taylor? The Fates truly hated her.The doors closed in a soft hush. Her sour luck became amazingly clear and she did have to grab the wall to keep from seeping into the floor. Why her? With him? Right now? She opened her eyes and with a deep breath of courage, she turned to face him. Her. Alone. With. Trent.Her insides quaked at the sheer proximity to her dream man. She met his eyes—a bold, brilliant amber. She noticed the small, polite smile on his kissable mouth. Beneath the fall of his thick, dusty brown hair was a strong nose. He hadn’t changed much in the five years since academy. He still had those deliciously broad shoulders and a chiseled waist that begged her to wrap her legs around him. Muscular thighs filled out the uniform’s multiplex materials. They’d cushion her as she rode him to glory. The man simply was sex appeal wrapped in a uniform. More than his good looks and natural charm, she had fallen head over heels with his personality. Trent had been simply that guy who couldn’t possibly be real, but amazingly was.

Friday, January 28, 2011

Party Tomorrow

The Bad Azz Authors are throwing a party!!! Tomorrow at TRS from 6:00 p.m. til the Witching Hour. Join us to chat, win prizes, find out what's really going on. 

Be there or we will find you and politely ask for your excuse. 
Am I not merciful?
From the Office of the Benevolent Despot

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Join me at Blog Talk Radio on January 21

Tomorrow I'll be doing my first live radio interview with Anjuelle Floyd. Wish me luck because me and technology don't get on too well!

Date: Friday, January 21st, 2011,
Place: Book Talk, Creativity and Family Matters

Call in time is 12 Noon PT, 1pm MT, 2pm CT, and 3pm ET.

The call-in number: (347) 215-7740.


Friday, January 14, 2011

Come see the new MESSALINA trailer

Stop by my Full-Bodied (Book) Blog and check out the new trailer for Messalina: Devourer of Men. It's in the sidebar.

And do remember to take the little poll ;)

Monday, January 10, 2011

Totally And Completely Against This

Really? You are going to take out offensive words because they offensive? That was the freaking point of having the words in the book in the first place! That was the truth of the times, how people saw those different from themselves and exactly what they called them. Think what you want about Huck Finn, love or hate the book, it's your right, but leave it alone. You are changing the author's intent, changing the meaning, rewriting something that can't be re-written. Huck goes through a hell of a lot of maturing through his journey, he learns a lot about his world and Jim's too. To change it belittles the growth of the character and makes it a water down version of what was once a masterpiece. Yeah, I bitched and moaned when I had to read it, ad I was shocked by the wording, and even hurt. But I am glad I read it, glad I had that experience, and glad I had the insight into the mind of the undereducated, ignorant, but otherwise decent young man who was just being himself. Would I be pissed if someone were to say it to my face? You knwo what? No. No one gets to define who I am, and honestly I would look at them they way I now look at Huck. Like the undereducated, perhaps a bit ignorant soul they are. I can't be bothered to be offended because I had the opportunity to emancipate my own thinking. Let children be shocked, hurt, even disgusted by the words, the actions and the attitudes. That is what it's for.

Off the soapbox now. Hope I made some sense.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

On Sale Now!!!!!

Tension seized the muscles of Swede’s body. There were seven teams of Valknuts coming into the bar tonight. At least two of them had seen her as well, one heading in her direction. Before he could warn his podmates, however, Nor took matters into his own hands.

Swede watched with a great deal of satisfaction as Nor stomped forward, pointedly ignoring the Floor Matron and flicking away the bouncers like fleas. He gently picked up their woman and cradled her in his arms for a brief second before slinging her over his shoulder. The smug look of satisfaction Nor cast at the Valknuts who had been headed her way would have been comical if Swede didn’t feel such a need for urgency. They needed to get her upstairs; they needed to make her theirs. Then they needed to get her the hell out of here. Without a word, Swede and Dane followed as Nor made his way to the upstairs room.

“Wait! Wait! That’s a hundred fifty credits. You must pay first.” The wide Floor Matron stepped in front of him and Dane, but Swede noted she let Nor proceed without protest. She knew them well enough to know nothing would happen unless all three were present. It was simply the way they operated, coded in their genetics every bit as much as the Viking blood that made them fearless in the field.

“I’ll settle the bill.” The words tasted sour in his mouth. This was their woman, their life mate. “Dane, go up and make sure Nor doesn’t frighten her to death.”

Soon they would take her away from here, where she would never again be used to relieve frightened boys playing at being men. Soon.