Tuesday, November 9, 2010
THE BROODING HERO
When someone says, brooding hero, I immediately think of Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre or Heathcliff and I remember the vicarious thrill I got in first meeting such difficult characters and how happy when the heroine is able to tame his savage heart. I've always loved a good brooding hero. That's why in borth of my recent books from Resplendence Publishing, HER PIRATE LOVER and DARK PARADISE, I've used the brooding hero. They just worked perfectly. And in each book I tempered their brooding quality with a touch of humor or with a heroine so sweet and appealing even my brooding hero couldn't resist. I think a brooding hero brings out such a knee jerk reaction on our part (our being every red blooded romantic woman) to change them and bring them to the light. My heroines do just that, but not in a calculating, manipulative way. In HER PIRATE LOVER, Hawke's dark soul is intent on revenge and he means to use the beautiful, virginal Abella as his means, but Abella's purity and her generous open heart capture him and show him what love is all about. Abella changes Hawke so his love for her is stronger than his need for revenge, but will have to give her up, after all? DARK PARADISE's Romanian Vampire Hunter, Matthew Stanislaus is another brooding hero. The very nature of his quest leaves him longing for a simpler more normal life which he believe has slipped beyond his grasp. And the woman who might be able to save him is coping with her own destiny as she slowly turns to one of the undead. I used humor to soften the grim darkness of this story and Had a wonderful time writing it. Matthew and Molly went along with my approach and in the end found solutions for both their problems. I don't think either book would have been as touching if I hadn't used a brooding hero. I wouldn't like ever book I write to have such an intense character, but for these two books, they worked.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
October Whee
Hi everyone. Welcome to my blog. I try to get on here once in a while and post my thoughts about this and that. Six years ago I wrote a paranormal, a vampire book. I'd said for years I'd never write one. How could they be romantic and sexy. Every time I thought of a vampire lover, I thought of Gary Oldman, who is a fantastic actor but just not sexy in my book and the thought of his skinny chest was a real turnoff. Even the vampire movie starring not only Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt and Antonio Banderos turned me off on vampire lovers. They ate rats!! Enough said. Well, Antonio didn't and maybe that's why he's held a special place in my fantasies.
Anyway, I got around the problem of a vampire hero by making my heroine the vampire. Women can do anything in my book, so I made this poor innocent, bored thirtyish librarian meet up with Vasilek the evil, get bitten by the aforementioned monster and saved by a sexy as sin Hungarian vampire hunter who makes her mouth water. It was fun to write and now I'm working on a sequel with one of the characters in DARK SHADOWS. Nope, no hero vampires in this one either, just a taciturn, determined vampire hunter who runs into a sexy, playful Cat and learns, all work and no play is not good for the soul or anything else!
Now for some soulful thoughts. I ran into this note I'd written some years ago and decided it's still pertinent today.
Are we as individuals really unique, original or are we copy cats of what's gone before?To be or not to be. Hey, if Shakespere used it, why can't i? It was probably a common saying back then and he just pilfered it!
If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, etc. etc. Can we honestly under stand ourselves-better yet- I suggest this gleefully-can we understand who and what we are before we hit our forties? I remember my thirties as a time when I wanted to achieve, wanted to know there was more to me than the sum total of kitchen stove, washing machine and marriage bed, the instruments of my greatest triumphs, thus far. That was back when I fell into bed to tired to think of any fun things to do there. We are born, said I, in full dramatic cry, in the isolation of our suburban ranchers when we let go of those unknowning young women we had been and become someone new-someone who finds the courage to take pen and paper and write down what great things we think we've learned. Our new egos engage and we dare to believe what we think is worthy of other people's notice. Somewhere we stop looking at what other people are doing and thinking because we've become too busy doing and thinking and acting on new goals. Daring kicks in and we go forward unafraid, impatient with ourselves for the time we've wasted in getting here. Yet it was all part of the process. And you know what I'm liking what that whole process kicked out. I'm awesome! I'll bet you are too!
Anyway, I got around the problem of a vampire hero by making my heroine the vampire. Women can do anything in my book, so I made this poor innocent, bored thirtyish librarian meet up with Vasilek the evil, get bitten by the aforementioned monster and saved by a sexy as sin Hungarian vampire hunter who makes her mouth water. It was fun to write and now I'm working on a sequel with one of the characters in DARK SHADOWS. Nope, no hero vampires in this one either, just a taciturn, determined vampire hunter who runs into a sexy, playful Cat and learns, all work and no play is not good for the soul or anything else!
Now for some soulful thoughts. I ran into this note I'd written some years ago and decided it's still pertinent today.
Are we as individuals really unique, original or are we copy cats of what's gone before?To be or not to be. Hey, if Shakespere used it, why can't i? It was probably a common saying back then and he just pilfered it!
If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, etc. etc. Can we honestly under stand ourselves-better yet- I suggest this gleefully-can we understand who and what we are before we hit our forties? I remember my thirties as a time when I wanted to achieve, wanted to know there was more to me than the sum total of kitchen stove, washing machine and marriage bed, the instruments of my greatest triumphs, thus far. That was back when I fell into bed to tired to think of any fun things to do there. We are born, said I, in full dramatic cry, in the isolation of our suburban ranchers when we let go of those unknowning young women we had been and become someone new-someone who finds the courage to take pen and paper and write down what great things we think we've learned. Our new egos engage and we dare to believe what we think is worthy of other people's notice. Somewhere we stop looking at what other people are doing and thinking because we've become too busy doing and thinking and acting on new goals. Daring kicks in and we go forward unafraid, impatient with ourselves for the time we've wasted in getting here. Yet it was all part of the process. And you know what I'm liking what that whole process kicked out. I'm awesome! I'll bet you are too!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
October is a Happy Month
Hi Everyone.
I can hardly believe September is nearly over and October with all its color and excitement is right around the corner. October is doubly exciting for me. I have not one but two books coming out.
The first is the sexy, beautiful love story, HER PIRATE LOVER, the second in my Pirate Booty series. I love this story, because it has a pirate captain, Black Hawke, who plans to use the innocent, virginal and very beautiful Frenchwoman, Abella Roche as a pawn in his scheme for revenge, but Abella, who is brave enough to throw aside her very life for a few weeks of happiness in the arms of a pirate, teaches him that love is stronger than revenge. Check out the sexy cover for HER PIRATE LOVER.
The second book for October is a funny paranormal about a small town librarian, Molly Prescott, who's bitten by a vampire, and Matthew Stanislaus, a Rumanian Vampire Slayer who tries to save her, but knows in the end he may have to kill her. Together they try to fight off vampires who want to kill Molly and harvest her DNA, and members of a Holy Order sworn to eradicate Vampires from the earth, all this without falling in love, but it's too late. Check out the cover for this one. What run!
I can hardly believe September is nearly over and October with all its color and excitement is right around the corner. October is doubly exciting for me. I have not one but two books coming out.
The first is the sexy, beautiful love story, HER PIRATE LOVER, the second in my Pirate Booty series. I love this story, because it has a pirate captain, Black Hawke, who plans to use the innocent, virginal and very beautiful Frenchwoman, Abella Roche as a pawn in his scheme for revenge, but Abella, who is brave enough to throw aside her very life for a few weeks of happiness in the arms of a pirate, teaches him that love is stronger than revenge. Check out the sexy cover for HER PIRATE LOVER.
The second book for October is a funny paranormal about a small town librarian, Molly Prescott, who's bitten by a vampire, and Matthew Stanislaus, a Rumanian Vampire Slayer who tries to save her, but knows in the end he may have to kill her. Together they try to fight off vampires who want to kill Molly and harvest her DNA, and members of a Holy Order sworn to eradicate Vampires from the earth, all this without falling in love, but it's too late. Check out the cover for this one. What run!
Monday, August 16, 2010
If you Dare!
Okay, Everybody, Here's an excerpt from my new book, DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS. Hope you enjoy!
A pounding at the door startled her. Slowly, she rose from her desk chair, flicked off the light and slid out into the hall to peer around a wall of the reception area. Beyond the windows, the streets were dark with an oily sheen cast by streetlights on wet pavement. A light rain had started to fall. A man stood outside on the sidewalk. He looked tough, mean even. Probably a cop.
He saw her and motioned her to open up. She played dumb, shaking her head to indicate she wasn’t open. He persisted. She knew the kind. He’d never go away unless he got what he wanted. But what the hell could he want from her? She bit her lip, hesitating, then decided.
“We’re closed. It's after office hours,” she said, opening the door an inch. Now she could see him better and absently noted a scar that cut across his lower lip and down his chin. Still, he was attractive, tall and dark, his face rugged. The shoulders of his cheap suit were filled nicely and she bet his trousers were filled just as nicely.
He waited silently while she made her perusal.
“See anything you like?” he asked, grinning. He stepped closer, the movement raw and challenging in its power ploy.
“I told you we’re closed.”
“I’m not looking to buy your services, Billie,” he said, but his gaze said otherwise. He was in the market all right for what she wasn’t selling. He stuck the toe of a black loafer in the door. She braced her small frame to keep him from any further intrusion. Her short skirt slid up revealing a good portion of thigh and he leered.
“What do you want?” she demanded, scowling. “And how do you know my name?”
“I do my homework. I just want to talk,” he said, tearing his gaze away from her anatomy. His dark gaze caught hers, bold and challenging and totally unyielding.
“What about?” she asked, trying to sound as tough as he looked.
“Let me in and I’ll explain. Here.” He held up a badge. “I’m a cop.” His expression was implacable.
“Is this the way cops question honest citizens?” she demanded without yielding one inch.
“If we have to. Open up.”
“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin,” she quipped. He shoved, hard and fast, catching her unawares so she flew backward and sprawled on the floor. Her skirt flew up, the hem nesting in her crotch.
“Nice view,” he commented.
“You son of a bitch,” she raged, jumping to her feet and extracting a tiny stiletto she kept hidden in the top of her stockings. She flew at him, the weapon raised, ready to cut out his black heart.
He sidestepped her onrush, took hold of her wrist and twisted so the stiletto fell from her nerveless fingers and she was caught in his iron grip, her back against the solid wall of his chest, her derriere nestled against his crotch. She felt his cock harden and push against her and she struggled, but he held fast.
“If you really are a cop, I’ll call your superior and have you on suspension so fast, you won’t be able to snap your shorts,” she threatened. “What’s your name and badge number?”
“I’m asking the questions here. Tell me your full name.”
“Bastard, if you don’t know who I am, why did you attack me? What do you want with me? Let go.”
“Not until I’m sure you don’t have some other little surprise hidden in your stockings, Billie.” He jerked her around so now she faced him, although she was still pressed as tightly to his hard body as before and this time, she felt his arousal grind against her belly. His hands surged over her body thoroughly and completely, searching for additional weapons. He grinned. He was liking this.
“You want to do a cavity search too?” she snapped.
“I’m willing, if you are.” His dark eyes held humorous lights.
“You bastard cop,” she cried, outraged. “I’ll kill you if you try to touch me again.”
“Like you killed Pepe Cosimero?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, growing still for a moment. She had an inkling. He stepped back from her, pushing his dark hair off his forehead.
“I think you do,” he said quietly. “I need some answers, Billie, and I need them now.”
“Go to hell,” she cried and broke away from him, running back toward her office. Darkness had fallen over the city and the lower level of her building lay in shadows. He was right behind her; she could hear the thud of his shoes against the floor. His hand closed over her shoulder in a cruel grip that made her cry out with pain.
He threw her backward. She collided with the wall hard enough to jolt the breath from her body. For a moment she leaned, struggling to draw in air, then he was on her, his hands hard as they gripped her arms and pinned them against the wall above her head. He let the solid weight of his body trap her so she couldn’t struggle against him. She felt the heat and tensile strength of his body. Her breasts flattened against his chest, his pelvis ground against her, his arousal was complete now, hard and turgid against her mound.
She felt a betraying surge of desire and screamed her frustration. She’d never given in willingly to rape and she wouldn’t now. She’d killed the last man who tried. She’d kill this one. She bucked against him, but he rode her back against the wall and in that moment, something changed in the way he held her and the way she responded to him. She sensed it and shook her head wildly against the changing emotions. Though he still held her tightly, his clasp no longer hurt her.
His hands were large so one was all that was needed to hold her wrists above her head. He was leaning into her, breathing hard, his dark gaze studying her face. Their breath intermingled, their gazes caught and held. He moved against her slightly, the motion less punitive, more seductive. His gaze still holding hers, he slowly lowered his free hand and ran it over the curve of her breast.
In their struggle her jacket had come undone and the only thing between his flesh and hers was a thin silk camisole. The full roundness of her breast rested in his palm as if it had come home. She felt her nipple harden, felt the answering tingle between her legs. Her thighs twitched to part. Time stood still, went backward to some more fundamental evolution where all that mattered was a man and a woman wanting each other.
A pounding at the door startled her. Slowly, she rose from her desk chair, flicked off the light and slid out into the hall to peer around a wall of the reception area. Beyond the windows, the streets were dark with an oily sheen cast by streetlights on wet pavement. A light rain had started to fall. A man stood outside on the sidewalk. He looked tough, mean even. Probably a cop.
He saw her and motioned her to open up. She played dumb, shaking her head to indicate she wasn’t open. He persisted. She knew the kind. He’d never go away unless he got what he wanted. But what the hell could he want from her? She bit her lip, hesitating, then decided.
“We’re closed. It's after office hours,” she said, opening the door an inch. Now she could see him better and absently noted a scar that cut across his lower lip and down his chin. Still, he was attractive, tall and dark, his face rugged. The shoulders of his cheap suit were filled nicely and she bet his trousers were filled just as nicely.
He waited silently while she made her perusal.
“See anything you like?” he asked, grinning. He stepped closer, the movement raw and challenging in its power ploy.
“I told you we’re closed.”
“I’m not looking to buy your services, Billie,” he said, but his gaze said otherwise. He was in the market all right for what she wasn’t selling. He stuck the toe of a black loafer in the door. She braced her small frame to keep him from any further intrusion. Her short skirt slid up revealing a good portion of thigh and he leered.
“What do you want?” she demanded, scowling. “And how do you know my name?”
“I do my homework. I just want to talk,” he said, tearing his gaze away from her anatomy. His dark gaze caught hers, bold and challenging and totally unyielding.
“What about?” she asked, trying to sound as tough as he looked.
“Let me in and I’ll explain. Here.” He held up a badge. “I’m a cop.” His expression was implacable.
“Is this the way cops question honest citizens?” she demanded without yielding one inch.
“If we have to. Open up.”
“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin,” she quipped. He shoved, hard and fast, catching her unawares so she flew backward and sprawled on the floor. Her skirt flew up, the hem nesting in her crotch.
“Nice view,” he commented.
“You son of a bitch,” she raged, jumping to her feet and extracting a tiny stiletto she kept hidden in the top of her stockings. She flew at him, the weapon raised, ready to cut out his black heart.
He sidestepped her onrush, took hold of her wrist and twisted so the stiletto fell from her nerveless fingers and she was caught in his iron grip, her back against the solid wall of his chest, her derriere nestled against his crotch. She felt his cock harden and push against her and she struggled, but he held fast.
“If you really are a cop, I’ll call your superior and have you on suspension so fast, you won’t be able to snap your shorts,” she threatened. “What’s your name and badge number?”
“I’m asking the questions here. Tell me your full name.”
“Bastard, if you don’t know who I am, why did you attack me? What do you want with me? Let go.”
“Not until I’m sure you don’t have some other little surprise hidden in your stockings, Billie.” He jerked her around so now she faced him, although she was still pressed as tightly to his hard body as before and this time, she felt his arousal grind against her belly. His hands surged over her body thoroughly and completely, searching for additional weapons. He grinned. He was liking this.
“You want to do a cavity search too?” she snapped.
“I’m willing, if you are.” His dark eyes held humorous lights.
“You bastard cop,” she cried, outraged. “I’ll kill you if you try to touch me again.”
“Like you killed Pepe Cosimero?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she said, growing still for a moment. She had an inkling. He stepped back from her, pushing his dark hair off his forehead.
“I think you do,” he said quietly. “I need some answers, Billie, and I need them now.”
“Go to hell,” she cried and broke away from him, running back toward her office. Darkness had fallen over the city and the lower level of her building lay in shadows. He was right behind her; she could hear the thud of his shoes against the floor. His hand closed over her shoulder in a cruel grip that made her cry out with pain.
He threw her backward. She collided with the wall hard enough to jolt the breath from her body. For a moment she leaned, struggling to draw in air, then he was on her, his hands hard as they gripped her arms and pinned them against the wall above her head. He let the solid weight of his body trap her so she couldn’t struggle against him. She felt the heat and tensile strength of his body. Her breasts flattened against his chest, his pelvis ground against her, his arousal was complete now, hard and turgid against her mound.
She felt a betraying surge of desire and screamed her frustration. She’d never given in willingly to rape and she wouldn’t now. She’d killed the last man who tried. She’d kill this one. She bucked against him, but he rode her back against the wall and in that moment, something changed in the way he held her and the way she responded to him. She sensed it and shook her head wildly against the changing emotions. Though he still held her tightly, his clasp no longer hurt her.
His hands were large so one was all that was needed to hold her wrists above her head. He was leaning into her, breathing hard, his dark gaze studying her face. Their breath intermingled, their gazes caught and held. He moved against her slightly, the motion less punitive, more seductive. His gaze still holding hers, he slowly lowered his free hand and ran it over the curve of her breast.
In their struggle her jacket had come undone and the only thing between his flesh and hers was a thin silk camisole. The full roundness of her breast rested in his palm as if it had come home. She felt her nipple harden, felt the answering tingle between her legs. Her thighs twitched to part. Time stood still, went backward to some more fundamental evolution where all that mattered was a man and a woman wanting each other.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
The Inner Pirate!
My new book is out from Resplendence Publishing. It's the first of a three book Pirate's Booty Series. This book is called THE VIRGIN PIRATE and I'm very excited about.
Here's just a tiny excerpt from it. You can go to Resplendence publishing for more information.
Excerpt:She stared at him, trying to understand the meaning of his words, then blushed as she thought of how she must seem to him. Carefully, she laid the stripped bone back on her plate and wiped her hands on her bodice. He winced.
“What?” she asked.
“Madam, you’ve just soiled a beautiful ball gown of some considerable value. I doubt that grease can ever be removed by even the most diligent laundress.”
“Are you questioning my manners?” she demanded. “I assure you I’ve been taught by a gentleman how to behave at table.” Which was true. Cedric Bickford had complimented her on her deportment and offered his knowledge on how a lady should conduct herself. Still, she felt the heat of shame mount her cheeks. Obviously, she’d done something wrong in this man’s estimation. She grabbed her tankard and drank deeply of the rich red wine and felt only a little better. This wasn’t going as she’d planned. She’d thought to spend time with an English gentleman and learn more about the world beyond this ship. But she knew she’d wanted more than that. She’d wanted to dazzle this English nobleman with her beauty and intelligence. She wanted… She couldn’t put words to it.
Ever since she’d seen him standing on the deck of his burning ship, she’d felt a stirring such as she’d never known before, and she wanted to explore those feeling. She wanted to be kissed by a man and to feel the passion between man and woman, not the animal rutting she’d seen her men engage in, but the soft, sensuous mating between two people. Bickford had offered her that, in fact, at every opportunity, he’d tried to seduce her into bed, but she’d felt nothing for him. She couldn’t say that about the tall nobleman who sat across from her, his eyes condemning her every move.
Humiliation stung her, and she covered it with anger. “I can always call Skelly to take you back to the brig,” she snapped, slamming her tankard against the table.
“Aye, you could, Madam, if that is your wish.” He regarded her coolly with eyes gone all dark and unreadable.
“Nay,” she said belatedly, “’tis not what I had in mind. As for my gown, it doesn’t matter if I’ve soiled it. I have many more.”
“No doubt acquired in the same manner as this one?”
“What do you know of a lady’s wardrobe?” she inquired sharply.
“I know about that gown. I purchased it, for a dear price I might add, for my fiancée.”
She was left speechless while her thoughts flashed to the dainty creature for whom he’d intended the gown. He could imagine some other woman floating down a grand staircase trailing the lovely silk peacock skirt behind her.
“You may have it back,” she said huffily. “I don’t care much for its color.”
“That’s too bad. The color seems created especially for you. However, I would be remiss not to inform you that you are sadly overdressed.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking down at the lovely gown with the greasy smears across the bodice.
“That garment is meant to be worn for an evening gala, not as an afternoon dress.”
She opened her mouth in consternation, but no words of rebuttal came.
“Ah, but no matter,” he said. “A lady may wear what she wishes, when she wishes. Now, tell me, Madam. What have you in mind for me besides ransoming at the end of this voyage?” His voice was deceptively soft. It hummed along her nerve endings and made her long for more, for a touch that would be as soft.
“I…” She raised her head but couldn’t meet his gaze. “Well, you’re a ship’s captain and a…a lord and my prisoner and—”
His gaze was too knowing, too sure. Hell be damned, he was on to her. She pushed her plate aside and walked around the table, coming to a stop very close to him, so he could smell the costly scent she’d poured over herself.
“You are my prisoner,” she said firmly, “and I can do with you. Whatever I wish. And I’ve decided to take you to my bed.”
“Ah, I’m to follow in Bickford’s…er…footsteps.”
“He was never in my bed.” She glared at him.
“’Tis not the tale he gives in London,” he said.
“Then he lies. He wanted to bed me, but I refused. I only wanted him to tell me about life in London society and…how to be a lady.”
“Nevertheless, that is his claim.” His expression showed very clearly which of them he believed.
With a sharp rustle of her skirts, she turned and paced the cabin. “The blackguard,” she muttered.
“Aye, he is that, and if you’ve relied upon him for advice on, what was the word you used? Deportment? I’m afraid he’s failed you there as well.” He watched her pace. “As for you taking me to your bed, madam. You need a willing partner, and I am not he. You might better have taken Bickford while you had the chance. I do not want you.” His tone was mocking, disbelieving of her denials.
Her cheeks grew hot and a red haze blinded her so she could barely see him, barely breathe for the insult he’d paid her yet again. She’d been too considerate, she saw now. She would take what she wanted as her men did. It was her right as captain of this ship, as the victor.
“It doesn’t matter if you want me,” she said and threw herself into his lap. She felt the long, hard length of him against her buttocks and suppressed a shiver. Startled, he made no move, so she ground her lips against his while her hands roved to the front of his breeches and gripped his cock, which had hardened since her assault. Her hand dove beneath the soft cloth of his breeches and gripped his hot flesh. She squeezed and began to pump her hand up and down. She wasn’t sure this was what he liked, but she’d seen a sailor relieve himself in this manner once and he’d seemed to like it just fine.
But Lord Trey Carlyle seemed destined to confound her in every way. His strong hand gripped hers, stilling her frantic pumping action. He pulled her hand over her head and rose so she would have been dumped on the floor if not for his hold on her. As it was, she stumbled a bit before she regained her footing and looked into his eyes. There was the blazing anger she’d seen before, the denial and rejection.
She slashed out with her other hand, striking him hard across his face. A red welt rose on one lean cheek, but he made no acknowledgment of her blow.
“Madam,” he said from between clenched teeth. “Calm yourself.” He released her hand, flinging it from him.
“I am calm,” she said. “You forget, sir, you are my prisoner and you do not give commands.”
She threw herself against him, knocking him backwards and onto her cot. In a tangle of petticoats, she fell on him and, once again, reached for his cock. It was rock hard now. Wasn’t that proof enough that he wanted her. She pressed herself to him, taking a deep breath and one of her breasts popped out of its tight confines. The nipple bobbled near his mouth, and she longed for him to take it into his mouth and suckle her. She pressed forward so, indeed, her soft pink flesh was pressed against his face. He had but to turn his head.
Instead, he took hold of her waist and pushed her to one side so she fell over the edge of the bed and landed on the floor, the skirts and myriad petticoats riding high above her thighs, her legs bare below her lacy breeches.
He swung to his feet and towered over her. She glared up at him.
Here's just a tiny excerpt from it. You can go to Resplendence publishing for more information.
Excerpt:She stared at him, trying to understand the meaning of his words, then blushed as she thought of how she must seem to him. Carefully, she laid the stripped bone back on her plate and wiped her hands on her bodice. He winced.
“What?” she asked.
“Madam, you’ve just soiled a beautiful ball gown of some considerable value. I doubt that grease can ever be removed by even the most diligent laundress.”
“Are you questioning my manners?” she demanded. “I assure you I’ve been taught by a gentleman how to behave at table.” Which was true. Cedric Bickford had complimented her on her deportment and offered his knowledge on how a lady should conduct herself. Still, she felt the heat of shame mount her cheeks. Obviously, she’d done something wrong in this man’s estimation. She grabbed her tankard and drank deeply of the rich red wine and felt only a little better. This wasn’t going as she’d planned. She’d thought to spend time with an English gentleman and learn more about the world beyond this ship. But she knew she’d wanted more than that. She’d wanted to dazzle this English nobleman with her beauty and intelligence. She wanted… She couldn’t put words to it.
Ever since she’d seen him standing on the deck of his burning ship, she’d felt a stirring such as she’d never known before, and she wanted to explore those feeling. She wanted to be kissed by a man and to feel the passion between man and woman, not the animal rutting she’d seen her men engage in, but the soft, sensuous mating between two people. Bickford had offered her that, in fact, at every opportunity, he’d tried to seduce her into bed, but she’d felt nothing for him. She couldn’t say that about the tall nobleman who sat across from her, his eyes condemning her every move.
Humiliation stung her, and she covered it with anger. “I can always call Skelly to take you back to the brig,” she snapped, slamming her tankard against the table.
“Aye, you could, Madam, if that is your wish.” He regarded her coolly with eyes gone all dark and unreadable.
“Nay,” she said belatedly, “’tis not what I had in mind. As for my gown, it doesn’t matter if I’ve soiled it. I have many more.”
“No doubt acquired in the same manner as this one?”
“What do you know of a lady’s wardrobe?” she inquired sharply.
“I know about that gown. I purchased it, for a dear price I might add, for my fiancée.”
She was left speechless while her thoughts flashed to the dainty creature for whom he’d intended the gown. He could imagine some other woman floating down a grand staircase trailing the lovely silk peacock skirt behind her.
“You may have it back,” she said huffily. “I don’t care much for its color.”
“That’s too bad. The color seems created especially for you. However, I would be remiss not to inform you that you are sadly overdressed.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking down at the lovely gown with the greasy smears across the bodice.
“That garment is meant to be worn for an evening gala, not as an afternoon dress.”
She opened her mouth in consternation, but no words of rebuttal came.
“Ah, but no matter,” he said. “A lady may wear what she wishes, when she wishes. Now, tell me, Madam. What have you in mind for me besides ransoming at the end of this voyage?” His voice was deceptively soft. It hummed along her nerve endings and made her long for more, for a touch that would be as soft.
“I…” She raised her head but couldn’t meet his gaze. “Well, you’re a ship’s captain and a…a lord and my prisoner and—”
His gaze was too knowing, too sure. Hell be damned, he was on to her. She pushed her plate aside and walked around the table, coming to a stop very close to him, so he could smell the costly scent she’d poured over herself.
“You are my prisoner,” she said firmly, “and I can do with you. Whatever I wish. And I’ve decided to take you to my bed.”
“Ah, I’m to follow in Bickford’s…er…footsteps.”
“He was never in my bed.” She glared at him.
“’Tis not the tale he gives in London,” he said.
“Then he lies. He wanted to bed me, but I refused. I only wanted him to tell me about life in London society and…how to be a lady.”
“Nevertheless, that is his claim.” His expression showed very clearly which of them he believed.
With a sharp rustle of her skirts, she turned and paced the cabin. “The blackguard,” she muttered.
“Aye, he is that, and if you’ve relied upon him for advice on, what was the word you used? Deportment? I’m afraid he’s failed you there as well.” He watched her pace. “As for you taking me to your bed, madam. You need a willing partner, and I am not he. You might better have taken Bickford while you had the chance. I do not want you.” His tone was mocking, disbelieving of her denials.
Her cheeks grew hot and a red haze blinded her so she could barely see him, barely breathe for the insult he’d paid her yet again. She’d been too considerate, she saw now. She would take what she wanted as her men did. It was her right as captain of this ship, as the victor.
“It doesn’t matter if you want me,” she said and threw herself into his lap. She felt the long, hard length of him against her buttocks and suppressed a shiver. Startled, he made no move, so she ground her lips against his while her hands roved to the front of his breeches and gripped his cock, which had hardened since her assault. Her hand dove beneath the soft cloth of his breeches and gripped his hot flesh. She squeezed and began to pump her hand up and down. She wasn’t sure this was what he liked, but she’d seen a sailor relieve himself in this manner once and he’d seemed to like it just fine.
But Lord Trey Carlyle seemed destined to confound her in every way. His strong hand gripped hers, stilling her frantic pumping action. He pulled her hand over her head and rose so she would have been dumped on the floor if not for his hold on her. As it was, she stumbled a bit before she regained her footing and looked into his eyes. There was the blazing anger she’d seen before, the denial and rejection.
She slashed out with her other hand, striking him hard across his face. A red welt rose on one lean cheek, but he made no acknowledgment of her blow.
“Madam,” he said from between clenched teeth. “Calm yourself.” He released her hand, flinging it from him.
“I am calm,” she said. “You forget, sir, you are my prisoner and you do not give commands.”
She threw herself against him, knocking him backwards and onto her cot. In a tangle of petticoats, she fell on him and, once again, reached for his cock. It was rock hard now. Wasn’t that proof enough that he wanted her. She pressed herself to him, taking a deep breath and one of her breasts popped out of its tight confines. The nipple bobbled near his mouth, and she longed for him to take it into his mouth and suckle her. She pressed forward so, indeed, her soft pink flesh was pressed against his face. He had but to turn his head.
Instead, he took hold of her waist and pushed her to one side so she fell over the edge of the bed and landed on the floor, the skirts and myriad petticoats riding high above her thighs, her legs bare below her lacy breeches.
He swung to his feet and towered over her. She glared up at him.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Happy News
I just got the cover for the first book in my Pirate's Booty series, called THE VIRGIN PIRATE. The cover is gorgeous but I can't show it to you yet because it's just a draft. I can describe it. It has a gorgeous man with taut buttocks, muscular thighs and long streaming hair and oh yeah, there's a woman on there too. They're standing on the beach, embracing and in the background is a beautiful sailing ship and a long graceful palm tree frames the whole scene. My name, Temple Hogan is in big letters and THE VIRGIN PIRATE in bigger letters and the series name at the bottom. The artist is a genius!
I'm a happy duck today.
I'm very excited about this series. I love pirate stories and to be able to do three of them in a row is so much fun. My heroines are sassy, my heroes, strong and masculine and there's lots of dialogue between the two as they struggle to come together emotionally, since they're already together physically. And there's lots of adventure. I love fast paced stories and all three of these book are that with a HEA, Happily Every After, ending.
The first book will be out in a couple of weeks so I hope you enjoy it. Hey, I'll have to have a contest for my readers! Stay posted.
I'm a happy duck today.
I'm very excited about this series. I love pirate stories and to be able to do three of them in a row is so much fun. My heroines are sassy, my heroes, strong and masculine and there's lots of dialogue between the two as they struggle to come together emotionally, since they're already together physically. And there's lots of adventure. I love fast paced stories and all three of these book are that with a HEA, Happily Every After, ending.
The first book will be out in a couple of weeks so I hope you enjoy it. Hey, I'll have to have a contest for my readers! Stay posted.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Lazy Summer Sunday Afternoon
Went to church, had lunch with friends, my weekly trek to the paint store for supplies, so I can use their coupon. I'm all about saving, but I'm a terrible spend thrift. Back home at the lake now with the sun shining and the mahogany leaves of our Red Maple moving slightly in the gentle breeze. I feel like I'm in a tower, my very own tower where I can do whatever I wish for as long as I wish. What a delicious feeling.
I've just finished the second pirate story in my Pirate trilogy and have the third one outlined and ready to start writing. The characters are fun and a little crazy. Charlie's all about survival and Jackson is just plain pissed off because the woman he'd been screwing and planning to marry has decided to marry someone else. It's not love at first sight when Jackson and Charlie meet, but it is first lust. Whoo, hope I can get them to behave - or not, which would be more fun.
So my lovely week is planned out ahead for me. I'll go to the gym in the morning for water aerobics and go to my paint class in the afternoon, make a salad for my husband and me and write my little head off. Lovely week ahead. My little companion Tsih Tzu will most likely be at the foot of the twin bed looking out the window guarding his domain. He thinks this feels like being in a tower too.
I've just finished the second pirate story in my Pirate trilogy and have the third one outlined and ready to start writing. The characters are fun and a little crazy. Charlie's all about survival and Jackson is just plain pissed off because the woman he'd been screwing and planning to marry has decided to marry someone else. It's not love at first sight when Jackson and Charlie meet, but it is first lust. Whoo, hope I can get them to behave - or not, which would be more fun.
So my lovely week is planned out ahead for me. I'll go to the gym in the morning for water aerobics and go to my paint class in the afternoon, make a salad for my husband and me and write my little head off. Lovely week ahead. My little companion Tsih Tzu will most likely be at the foot of the twin bed looking out the window guarding his domain. He thinks this feels like being in a tower too.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Life and Death
Nothing makes us cling so intensely to life than facing death, a near death experience of our own or the lose of a loved one. Such has been the case for me recently when I lost a good friend whom I had known for forty years. She was a young woman, active in her church as well as her sorority and other organizations. Gracious and graceful in her handling of many events, she was the president of our sisterhood. I never heard her say an unkind word to anyone or about anyone. She was brave through a battle over several years against cancer, never seeking or wanting pity. To think she's no longer here is too difficult to contemplate.
So I find myself saying prayers of thanksgiving to God that I'm still here, that my family members whom I love so much are alive and well. Then you feel selfish for having such thoughts, then you tell yourself, not to rejoice would be selfish. God has given us life and even in death, we must celebrate life.
Finally, that takes me to my writing. There I am god. I consider whether my characters live or die and I've done so callously in the past, but in the future I will think twice about the importance of life and even in the importance of death and how it will affect the characters in my books. For when a reader picks up your book, she's looking for more than a few hours of entertainment, she's expecting to find honesty in your words, in the emotions you evoke on behalf of your characters. We live through our characters, writer and reader alike, so there can be no sham, just as there should never be in life and never is in death. Those are moments of such complete honesty, when we must face our mortality and look to God for our salvation, when we must face the lose of that loved one and let them go.
Never give up is a term we hear often. It's said with such fierceness. Never give up! But inevitably and finally, we must give up, give up our loved ones and in doing so, learn to give up our own life in the end and face the unknown of the grave, trusting that God is truly there for us. Never give up until you have to, then we must take a page from those who go before us. We must learn from their gracefulness and bravery. We must learn to give up.
So I find myself saying prayers of thanksgiving to God that I'm still here, that my family members whom I love so much are alive and well. Then you feel selfish for having such thoughts, then you tell yourself, not to rejoice would be selfish. God has given us life and even in death, we must celebrate life.
Finally, that takes me to my writing. There I am god. I consider whether my characters live or die and I've done so callously in the past, but in the future I will think twice about the importance of life and even in the importance of death and how it will affect the characters in my books. For when a reader picks up your book, she's looking for more than a few hours of entertainment, she's expecting to find honesty in your words, in the emotions you evoke on behalf of your characters. We live through our characters, writer and reader alike, so there can be no sham, just as there should never be in life and never is in death. Those are moments of such complete honesty, when we must face our mortality and look to God for our salvation, when we must face the lose of that loved one and let them go.
Never give up is a term we hear often. It's said with such fierceness. Never give up! But inevitably and finally, we must give up, give up our loved ones and in doing so, learn to give up our own life in the end and face the unknown of the grave, trusting that God is truly there for us. Never give up until you have to, then we must take a page from those who go before us. We must learn from their gracefulness and bravery. We must learn to give up.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Hounds of Summer
Or is that Dog Days of Summer? Either way it's blazingly hot. We're tucked into our cottage on the lake, with the air conditioners blaring. Who cares if the flowers are blooming, the warm lake breezes blowing, the water's warming and the boats are ready to go. Give me cool, cool, cool, dammit.
It's been a crazy spring, my grandson came and stayed with us a few days before going into Basic training for the Navy. My 7 year old grandson is visiting and he's become a computer nerd, until we mention boat ride and then he comes out of his funk. My 18 mo. grand daughter is visiting and loves the lake, the boats and being outdoors. We all have to run and watch her so she doesn't go near the water.
In between all the visiting and my outside activities (I do a lot of paint classes.) I've been busy with edits on my Ellora Cave book, DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS. Haven't been given a pub date on it yet, but the edits are finished so it can't be long now.
My first Pirate book, VIRGIN PIRATE will be out July 9 and the second one which I just finished writing HER PIRATE LOVER will be out in mid October. As I said I just finished writing HER PIRATE LOVER and fell in love with the characters myself. Each time I write a book, I grow to love my characters but Hawke is a sexy, sexy man, but then so is Trey Carlylse from VIRGIN PIRATE and the women in both books, Nellie and Abella, know just how to handle men. Wish I knew as much as they do. Now I'm ready to start the third book in the PIRATE BOOTY series. I'm already starting to love the characters in this book, which will be American pirates. I think I'll call it, THE PIRATE BRIDE. Charlie is another female pirate who's met her match in Buccaneer Jackson Payne. Jackson spends most of his time trying to save Charlie from herself and the American government who's determined to rid the waters of the infamous Pirate, Red Charlie. When Jackson discovers she's a woman and what a woman, he looks at things a lot differently. I think I'll have fun with this story.
In the meantime rewriting another book, Dark Paradise about a girl named Molly who got bit!!
So that's how I'm spending my hot summer days. How are yours going?
It's been a crazy spring, my grandson came and stayed with us a few days before going into Basic training for the Navy. My 7 year old grandson is visiting and he's become a computer nerd, until we mention boat ride and then he comes out of his funk. My 18 mo. grand daughter is visiting and loves the lake, the boats and being outdoors. We all have to run and watch her so she doesn't go near the water.
In between all the visiting and my outside activities (I do a lot of paint classes.) I've been busy with edits on my Ellora Cave book, DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS. Haven't been given a pub date on it yet, but the edits are finished so it can't be long now.
My first Pirate book, VIRGIN PIRATE will be out July 9 and the second one which I just finished writing HER PIRATE LOVER will be out in mid October. As I said I just finished writing HER PIRATE LOVER and fell in love with the characters myself. Each time I write a book, I grow to love my characters but Hawke is a sexy, sexy man, but then so is Trey Carlylse from VIRGIN PIRATE and the women in both books, Nellie and Abella, know just how to handle men. Wish I knew as much as they do. Now I'm ready to start the third book in the PIRATE BOOTY series. I'm already starting to love the characters in this book, which will be American pirates. I think I'll call it, THE PIRATE BRIDE. Charlie is another female pirate who's met her match in Buccaneer Jackson Payne. Jackson spends most of his time trying to save Charlie from herself and the American government who's determined to rid the waters of the infamous Pirate, Red Charlie. When Jackson discovers she's a woman and what a woman, he looks at things a lot differently. I think I'll have fun with this story.
In the meantime rewriting another book, Dark Paradise about a girl named Molly who got bit!!
So that's how I'm spending my hot summer days. How are yours going?
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Tootling Along
Some days are just plain ordinary days that don't bring any special discoveries and no surprises, yet those days are just as precious in our lives and one with all sorts of rewards. Today is such a day, but as I look back over the past few days I think of all the things I've learned.
For instance, we had a wonderful speaker at our monthly writer's meeting who showed us how using astrology and sun signs can help us understand our characters better. I've never been one for following sun signs or horoscopes, but our speaker had us do some workshops using horoscopes and lo and behold I found myself delving deeper into my charater. This is definitely a source I will use again to better understand where my charters are coming from and where they're going.
Then I learned that I must tighten up on some of my writing. I got a wonderful rejection letter that spelled out what my weaknesses and strengths are. Point of view is something I've been rather sloppy about, changing from the hero's pov to the heroine's pov. It's fun to make that transition quickly from one paragraph to the next. You can fully exploit what the characters are feeling especially in a love scene, but though I may enjoy it, a reader might become confused by the changing povs. My new goal is to really pay attention to that. I think my writing might be stronger as a result of it. It's easy to get sloppy, but if you want your writing to become stronger, you have to always be mindful of what you're doing.
So that's my learnin's for now. I expect every day I'll go forward, learning and doing better. After all I've only been writing for 30 years and you can't learn everything in that amount of time.
For instance, we had a wonderful speaker at our monthly writer's meeting who showed us how using astrology and sun signs can help us understand our characters better. I've never been one for following sun signs or horoscopes, but our speaker had us do some workshops using horoscopes and lo and behold I found myself delving deeper into my charater. This is definitely a source I will use again to better understand where my charters are coming from and where they're going.
Then I learned that I must tighten up on some of my writing. I got a wonderful rejection letter that spelled out what my weaknesses and strengths are. Point of view is something I've been rather sloppy about, changing from the hero's pov to the heroine's pov. It's fun to make that transition quickly from one paragraph to the next. You can fully exploit what the characters are feeling especially in a love scene, but though I may enjoy it, a reader might become confused by the changing povs. My new goal is to really pay attention to that. I think my writing might be stronger as a result of it. It's easy to get sloppy, but if you want your writing to become stronger, you have to always be mindful of what you're doing.
So that's my learnin's for now. I expect every day I'll go forward, learning and doing better. After all I've only been writing for 30 years and you can't learn everything in that amount of time.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Zowie, Saturday
The second Saturday of the month is always one I look forward to. We have our regional writer's meeting, we being known as the Grand Rapids Regional Writer's Group. We eat, even desserts or maybe especially desserts, have our meeting and a program or workshop. Today was on p.o.v. in forming characterizations given by one of our published writers. Really well done. We had some hands-on exercises which were a lot of fun. We do a lot of laughing in our meetings. Writing is such a solitary job that when a bunch of writers get together, we go a little over the top.
We're going to a Writer's Retreat in Fremont next week-end, nearly all of our chapter will be there. We'll order in food, drink margaritas and too much wine, eat too much, write a lot, laugh and tell dirty jokes and be really loud and say outrageous things, and get very little sleep. We do this twice a year and it's a nice break away from our normal routines. Some of our members work so hard, turning out several manuscripts a year as well as editing. They are really devoted, dare I say, even driven. They deserve every ounce of success they have.
So this week, I will follow their good example, and work very hard on finishing this third book, maybe even starting another, and plan my week to get my house and yard work done so I can go off with a clear conscience. And Next Saturday? I'll be laughing and writing and sipping and nibbling and talking and laughing and ---having a really good time. Being a full time writer is not bad, not bad at all.
We're going to a Writer's Retreat in Fremont next week-end, nearly all of our chapter will be there. We'll order in food, drink margaritas and too much wine, eat too much, write a lot, laugh and tell dirty jokes and be really loud and say outrageous things, and get very little sleep. We do this twice a year and it's a nice break away from our normal routines. Some of our members work so hard, turning out several manuscripts a year as well as editing. They are really devoted, dare I say, even driven. They deserve every ounce of success they have.
So this week, I will follow their good example, and work very hard on finishing this third book, maybe even starting another, and plan my week to get my house and yard work done so I can go off with a clear conscience. And Next Saturday? I'll be laughing and writing and sipping and nibbling and talking and laughing and ---having a really good time. Being a full time writer is not bad, not bad at all.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
How to get yourself in a lot of trouble!
Wow, what a lot of fun I've been having. Sold three books, working to get the third one completed. In the meantime, having to do edits on a computer system that's new to me. Learning a lot about using the computer, but still way behind on what I need to know.
Today I have to put away my computer and do some normal stuff, like clean out my refrigerator (a must) something died in there and when I open the fridge door I have to open windows. It shouldn't be too hard to find the culprit because the fridge is nearly empty. Another chore. Go shopping. Then I'm not even going to talk about the floors that need vacuuming, the tv that needs dusting and a bunch of other stuff. At least I've kept up with the dishes and the laundry. I hate having dirty dishes around because I know who has to clean them and I do like clean underwear so that's a priority for mine.
So today I'm off to the stores to spend money I don't really have and then it's a day of clean, clean, clean. Tomorrow I'll reward myself by going to critique where I'll hear what other writers are working on and get their opinion on my own work. We'll exchange ideas and share information about the writing world and all the while we eat and drink and are otherwise merry. We go to a wonderful Italian place that has great food and lets us sit in a corner for hours with only occasional refills. I guess putting away my computer for a day is not so bad after all.
Today I have to put away my computer and do some normal stuff, like clean out my refrigerator (a must) something died in there and when I open the fridge door I have to open windows. It shouldn't be too hard to find the culprit because the fridge is nearly empty. Another chore. Go shopping. Then I'm not even going to talk about the floors that need vacuuming, the tv that needs dusting and a bunch of other stuff. At least I've kept up with the dishes and the laundry. I hate having dirty dishes around because I know who has to clean them and I do like clean underwear so that's a priority for mine.
So today I'm off to the stores to spend money I don't really have and then it's a day of clean, clean, clean. Tomorrow I'll reward myself by going to critique where I'll hear what other writers are working on and get their opinion on my own work. We'll exchange ideas and share information about the writing world and all the while we eat and drink and are otherwise merry. We go to a wonderful Italian place that has great food and lets us sit in a corner for hours with only occasional refills. I guess putting away my computer for a day is not so bad after all.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Hard Night's Day
The edits are coming in for my book with Ellora's Cave called DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS and it has been an amazing experience, simply because of the scope and volume of their editing technique. I think my work is not that big of a problem, it's learning to use their system. They've sent me a couple of hundred pages of material I should know on how to go about this.
I always bragged I was a computer illiterate, but I'm doing a bragging of a different sort after today. I'm going to be very savvy when I finish with this. My editor did tell me to send in the manuscript THE BLISS SHOP, so when I finish all this other stuff, I'm going to do this. Amazing.
I've always told young writers, Your problems aren't ended just because you get published, that's when they really begin! Am I complaining? Not one bit. I'm happy to have reached this destination.
I always bragged I was a computer illiterate, but I'm doing a bragging of a different sort after today. I'm going to be very savvy when I finish with this. My editor did tell me to send in the manuscript THE BLISS SHOP, so when I finish all this other stuff, I'm going to do this. Amazing.
I've always told young writers, Your problems aren't ended just because you get published, that's when they really begin! Am I complaining? Not one bit. I'm happy to have reached this destination.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Freakin' Friday and Oatmeal Cookies
Okay, so contracts are signed and I've told everyone and been congratulated and now everything is back to normal, kind of. I'm busy working on my second Pirate Story which is due in mid May. It's going well and I really like it but am having to fight those doldrums that side track my best intentions. This is the reality of writing. Those moments when the words come and you can barely keep up with getting them on the page and those days when you tell yourself it's going to be a good day and it's not. You have to push yourself to keep going. Sometimes, that's the only thing you can do, sometimes, you have to give it up and paint a picture, because your creative outlet is bent that way at the moment.
Tomorrow we will be going to a funeral, going to a Bridal Shower and going out to dinner with a good friend. I'm glad it ends on such a positive note. Certainly, the day will run the gamut of life, from that of a young bride to be, to death, that of a 95 year old woman who lived a full active life. I believe in a here after but still it's a downer. I guess I just have to find solace in today, Freakin' Friday when my family came and I got to kiss on little 18 month old Wednesday and 7 year old Christian. Christian is wearing glasses and has his two adult teeth in the front, which are a little bigger than the rest, so this beautiful golden child who has delighted my heart since I held him in my arms when he was just a few minutes old, suddenly looks like a more grown up little boy, a brainiac, a complete person in his own right. Then there's Wednesday, who doesn't know she's still a baby. Her face is bruised and scratched because she fell down the porch steps at her house, but there's that great big Irish grin of hers as she runs off to drive her little car or chase the cats.
Yeah, I can handle tomorrow because I'll remember today and the people I love and accept that I'm caught somewhere in that loop of life and death and I'd better enjoy every moment of it, because it goes way too fast. So I'll munch another fresh-baked loaded oatmeal cookie and contemplate getting back to my French heroine who has fallen smack in love with a handsome Pirate captain. Freakin' Fridays are not bad after all.
Tomorrow we will be going to a funeral, going to a Bridal Shower and going out to dinner with a good friend. I'm glad it ends on such a positive note. Certainly, the day will run the gamut of life, from that of a young bride to be, to death, that of a 95 year old woman who lived a full active life. I believe in a here after but still it's a downer. I guess I just have to find solace in today, Freakin' Friday when my family came and I got to kiss on little 18 month old Wednesday and 7 year old Christian. Christian is wearing glasses and has his two adult teeth in the front, which are a little bigger than the rest, so this beautiful golden child who has delighted my heart since I held him in my arms when he was just a few minutes old, suddenly looks like a more grown up little boy, a brainiac, a complete person in his own right. Then there's Wednesday, who doesn't know she's still a baby. Her face is bruised and scratched because she fell down the porch steps at her house, but there's that great big Irish grin of hers as she runs off to drive her little car or chase the cats.
Yeah, I can handle tomorrow because I'll remember today and the people I love and accept that I'm caught somewhere in that loop of life and death and I'd better enjoy every moment of it, because it goes way too fast. So I'll munch another fresh-baked loaded oatmeal cookie and contemplate getting back to my French heroine who has fallen smack in love with a handsome Pirate captain. Freakin' Fridays are not bad after all.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Terrific Tuesday
Today I signed my contract with Ellora's Cave for DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS. I'm so glad this book sold. Billie is one of my favorite characters. She's tough and resilient and smart. She doesn't whine or cry, she just gets busy and figures out solutions to her problems.
That's a great attitude especially when you have members of the Detroit mob after you and you're giving in to some heavy duty sexual attraction to a good looking, street smart Detroit Homicide cop. Whether she's conning someone out of thousands, dodging bullets, blowing up cop cars, fighting off the Hounds of Baskerville or finding out the Dirty Little Secrets of state politicians, Billie does it with panache and her own brand of class.
The second reason Tuesday was so terrific, I had a beautiful little 18 month old visiting me today. She fell asleep in my lap and I got to kiss and kiss on her. Tuesdays are good!
That's a great attitude especially when you have members of the Detroit mob after you and you're giving in to some heavy duty sexual attraction to a good looking, street smart Detroit Homicide cop. Whether she's conning someone out of thousands, dodging bullets, blowing up cop cars, fighting off the Hounds of Baskerville or finding out the Dirty Little Secrets of state politicians, Billie does it with panache and her own brand of class.
The second reason Tuesday was so terrific, I had a beautiful little 18 month old visiting me today. She fell asleep in my lap and I got to kiss and kiss on her. Tuesdays are good!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
I Was Here First
Having a guest stay more than three days is the same as stubbing your toe and going to the hospital and finding out it's broken. Sure you're going to get over it but you're going to have an unpleasant time for awhile.
Having my teen-aged grandson stay a week and a half was like a toothache that wouldn't go away. While he was here, sleeping on the twin bed in my computer room, he scattered his clothes everywhere, left half-empty pop cans everywhere, even near my computer, left dirty dishes in the living room and didn't shower as often as he should have. He stayed up most of the night and slept all day. If the dog barked, he came down complaining, if anyone did anything that he didn't like he told us.
Unable to get to my desk and computer, I set up a temporary office on the kitchen counter. The first day he came down and asked if I were going to work there. I affirmed I was and he said he wanted to work there. He didn't want to work upstairs alone in the office. I pointed out the coffee table in the living room was free, but he said he wanted to work up high like on the kitchen counter. After each statement, he waited for me to respond he could work there, that I would move.
Now I'm at heart a nice person, accommodating, thoughtful, make everything alright for everyone around me, if at all possible, but sometimes you have to take a stand. So I tilted my chin and said very sweetly. I was here first!
We, women one and all, usually don't do that. We give in. We don't stick up for our own rights. My grandson wasn't offended, he shrugged and went away. Later I told him he could bring his computer and set it up next to me and that's what he did. We sat side by side, talking, blogging and e-mailing. It was fun and it occurred to me that if I'd given in and moved my computer elsewhere, I would have felt ill used and resentful and Eric and I wouldn't have had that moment together.
So it's okay to say, I was here first. I count too.
As for my grandson's visit. Before he left he came downstairs and leaned against the kitchen counter while he looked all around and said. "You know this house is always the same. it never changes." A little miffed, I tried to sort out what he meant. Was he saying we were boring. I asked, "Do you mean it's a stable house?" He replied. "Yes, it never changes. Whenever I come here I know it will be exactly the same. It makes me look forward to coming."
That so touched my heart. So while I'm picking up the single sock he left behind and gathering up the pop cans and putting the dishes in the sink and changing sheets and airing out the room, I'll smile because I learned two things while he was here this week. One that it's okay to say, I was here first and secondly, it's okay to stay the same. There's merit in sameness.
Having my teen-aged grandson stay a week and a half was like a toothache that wouldn't go away. While he was here, sleeping on the twin bed in my computer room, he scattered his clothes everywhere, left half-empty pop cans everywhere, even near my computer, left dirty dishes in the living room and didn't shower as often as he should have. He stayed up most of the night and slept all day. If the dog barked, he came down complaining, if anyone did anything that he didn't like he told us.
Unable to get to my desk and computer, I set up a temporary office on the kitchen counter. The first day he came down and asked if I were going to work there. I affirmed I was and he said he wanted to work there. He didn't want to work upstairs alone in the office. I pointed out the coffee table in the living room was free, but he said he wanted to work up high like on the kitchen counter. After each statement, he waited for me to respond he could work there, that I would move.
Now I'm at heart a nice person, accommodating, thoughtful, make everything alright for everyone around me, if at all possible, but sometimes you have to take a stand. So I tilted my chin and said very sweetly. I was here first!
We, women one and all, usually don't do that. We give in. We don't stick up for our own rights. My grandson wasn't offended, he shrugged and went away. Later I told him he could bring his computer and set it up next to me and that's what he did. We sat side by side, talking, blogging and e-mailing. It was fun and it occurred to me that if I'd given in and moved my computer elsewhere, I would have felt ill used and resentful and Eric and I wouldn't have had that moment together.
So it's okay to say, I was here first. I count too.
As for my grandson's visit. Before he left he came downstairs and leaned against the kitchen counter while he looked all around and said. "You know this house is always the same. it never changes." A little miffed, I tried to sort out what he meant. Was he saying we were boring. I asked, "Do you mean it's a stable house?" He replied. "Yes, it never changes. Whenever I come here I know it will be exactly the same. It makes me look forward to coming."
That so touched my heart. So while I'm picking up the single sock he left behind and gathering up the pop cans and putting the dishes in the sink and changing sheets and airing out the room, I'll smile because I learned two things while he was here this week. One that it's okay to say, I was here first and secondly, it's okay to stay the same. There's merit in sameness.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Good Times Keep Coming!!
Second Saturdays are always special to me. That's the day our writing group meets at a restaurant in Grand Ville. We share news about each other, the market, writing and anything else we think needs to be said.
This time when I walked in, everyone congratulated me, cool people. Then Michele called me over and informed me Resplendence wants to buy the second book in my Pirate Series. Wow! I was just kind of numb and said, Oh, okay. As if it happened every day! I keep telling myself, put your feet on the ground and start thinking of the work needed to produce a marketable product, but it's not a daunting thought at all. Writing is fun! I like doing it! I like that other people like when I'm doing it!!!
So I go to bed tonight with a smile on my face. It's good to be back in the game. Except that the rules are different now and I have to play catch up to a totally different approach, except that it starts in the same way as before. It starts with writing a book that someone wants to buy, then helping to put the word out there so other people will want to read it. It's a tough market with a lot of people out there trying to make money with their writing. Competition is tough, but part of the fun, if you're winning! I'm starting out with realistic expectations, so anything above that will be a wonderful surprise.
So, I'll just tell any one of the hundreds of people who sign on to my blog every day who marvel at my witticisms and intelligence, My first book will be out July 20, 2010. I'll get the pub dates to you on the others as quickly as I can. It's going to be a busy summer!!
This time when I walked in, everyone congratulated me, cool people. Then Michele called me over and informed me Resplendence wants to buy the second book in my Pirate Series. Wow! I was just kind of numb and said, Oh, okay. As if it happened every day! I keep telling myself, put your feet on the ground and start thinking of the work needed to produce a marketable product, but it's not a daunting thought at all. Writing is fun! I like doing it! I like that other people like when I'm doing it!!!
So I go to bed tonight with a smile on my face. It's good to be back in the game. Except that the rules are different now and I have to play catch up to a totally different approach, except that it starts in the same way as before. It starts with writing a book that someone wants to buy, then helping to put the word out there so other people will want to read it. It's a tough market with a lot of people out there trying to make money with their writing. Competition is tough, but part of the fun, if you're winning! I'm starting out with realistic expectations, so anything above that will be a wonderful surprise.
So, I'll just tell any one of the hundreds of people who sign on to my blog every day who marvel at my witticisms and intelligence, My first book will be out July 20, 2010. I'll get the pub dates to you on the others as quickly as I can. It's going to be a busy summer!!
Friday, April 9, 2010
I can't believe this!!!
What a week! I got up this morning and got online and there was an e-mail from Ellora's Cave. They bought my humorous, erotic, Romantic Suspense called DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS!
That makes two books in a week. I'm loving this! It's so exciting. I sent out four books and so far have sold two of them. I was such a whimp for so long, afraid to send anything out after so long a time since my last sale. This has certainly taught me a lesson, to never give up! Keep up your courage! Believe in yourself, even if others don't. Or they might but you don't so you don't believe that they believe. Know what I mean?
This has been a difficult week with a house guest so I couldn't get to my computer and research books. The computer room serves as a guest room as well. I've been reduced to working on my laptop on my kitchen counter. It hasn't been so bad. in fact I like being able to sit down and sign online without running upstairs. Maybe I just like being in the middle of everything or the change of scenery.
So now I have to start thinking about rewrites and editing and promoting. Some of this is drudgery, some of it's just plain fun. Writing is all highs and lows. I must be crazy to do it, but once you start, you can't stop.
Just in case no one has figured it out yet, I love it!
That makes two books in a week. I'm loving this! It's so exciting. I sent out four books and so far have sold two of them. I was such a whimp for so long, afraid to send anything out after so long a time since my last sale. This has certainly taught me a lesson, to never give up! Keep up your courage! Believe in yourself, even if others don't. Or they might but you don't so you don't believe that they believe. Know what I mean?
This has been a difficult week with a house guest so I couldn't get to my computer and research books. The computer room serves as a guest room as well. I've been reduced to working on my laptop on my kitchen counter. It hasn't been so bad. in fact I like being able to sit down and sign online without running upstairs. Maybe I just like being in the middle of everything or the change of scenery.
So now I have to start thinking about rewrites and editing and promoting. Some of this is drudgery, some of it's just plain fun. Writing is all highs and lows. I must be crazy to do it, but once you start, you can't stop.
Just in case no one has figured it out yet, I love it!
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Hot News Flash
July 20. 2010
That's it, my new pub date, for VIRGIN PIRATE. Contracts have been signed!! Hooray!!
This is so exciting. Haven't signed a contract for ten years, so this is really exciting!! Woo hoo!!! What more can I say at this moment? I'm happy.
That's it, my new pub date, for VIRGIN PIRATE. Contracts have been signed!! Hooray!!
This is so exciting. Haven't signed a contract for ten years, so this is really exciting!! Woo hoo!!! What more can I say at this moment? I'm happy.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Rainy Tuesday
It's dark and gloomy outside, but I don't care. I'm reading Brynn Paulin's Two Plus One and it is sizzling hot! Holy Cow! Never thought I'd consider being the filling in a great big old sandwich but she makes it sound very interesting.
I'm almost glad for the coming storm and the predicted rain. I won't have to go out and rake. I can stay inside and write on my own sexy stuff. I just finished the first chapter and the characters are coming alive for me. The hero, Black Hawk is an embittered Scottish Lord who's had his family fortunes taken away from him and has lost his young bride who betrayed him in the first place. So he's turned to piracy to destroy his enemy and regain his fortune.
The heroine is a young French woman, Abella Roche, sailing to Spain to marry the English Ambassador, Burgess Lindleigh, Black Hawk's sworn enemy. Black Hawk plans to take his revenge on the poor girl and I can hardly wait for the next chapter to see exactly what he has in mind. Well, I know what he has in mind, but sometimes when you're writing a scene, your characters take over and behave their own way. Though Abella is a dainty, French mademoiselle, all curls and lace, she packs a mean punch. She's already given the hero a bloody nose and caused him to fall flat on his ass, now she's scheming as to how she can get herself and her maid free of this man.
Black Hawk doesn't trust women anymore and I don't think Abella will make it any easier for him!! Fun to write!
Anyway, that's my agenda for this gloomy Tuesday. I just hope there's not a lot of lightning so I have to turn off my computer. Of course my laptop is on a battery. Hey, I'm good to go.
I'm almost glad for the coming storm and the predicted rain. I won't have to go out and rake. I can stay inside and write on my own sexy stuff. I just finished the first chapter and the characters are coming alive for me. The hero, Black Hawk is an embittered Scottish Lord who's had his family fortunes taken away from him and has lost his young bride who betrayed him in the first place. So he's turned to piracy to destroy his enemy and regain his fortune.
The heroine is a young French woman, Abella Roche, sailing to Spain to marry the English Ambassador, Burgess Lindleigh, Black Hawk's sworn enemy. Black Hawk plans to take his revenge on the poor girl and I can hardly wait for the next chapter to see exactly what he has in mind. Well, I know what he has in mind, but sometimes when you're writing a scene, your characters take over and behave their own way. Though Abella is a dainty, French mademoiselle, all curls and lace, she packs a mean punch. She's already given the hero a bloody nose and caused him to fall flat on his ass, now she's scheming as to how she can get herself and her maid free of this man.
Black Hawk doesn't trust women anymore and I don't think Abella will make it any easier for him!! Fun to write!
Anyway, that's my agenda for this gloomy Tuesday. I just hope there's not a lot of lightning so I have to turn off my computer. Of course my laptop is on a battery. Hey, I'm good to go.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Morning After
Well, boys and girls, it's the morning after our BIG Easter week-end. I'm soooo tired. Ate too much, went to a lot of church and had lots of company and now things are back to normal. Got my kitchen back in shape, my house in order, a load of wash in, edited a first chapter and sent it off to an editor/friend who wanted to see it and even made my paint class and was very pleased with my painting this week!! Super Woman, here I am.
My goals for this week are to go back on a diet, write three chapters on my latest writing project, get out my summer clothes and get my flower beds raked. I have flowers pushing up through the leaves I didn't get raked up last fall. Spring is such a super time, but there are just too many chores to do, especially when you live on a lake.
I think another reason I feel so good is that I just found out one of our neighbors, a horrible man and wife, are moving back to Chicago. Yay! Chicago can have you!!! So life looks great as we move into summer. I hope it's the same for all of you as well. Have a magnificent Monday and good whatever you're doing!!
My goals for this week are to go back on a diet, write three chapters on my latest writing project, get out my summer clothes and get my flower beds raked. I have flowers pushing up through the leaves I didn't get raked up last fall. Spring is such a super time, but there are just too many chores to do, especially when you live on a lake.
I think another reason I feel so good is that I just found out one of our neighbors, a horrible man and wife, are moving back to Chicago. Yay! Chicago can have you!!! So life looks great as we move into summer. I hope it's the same for all of you as well. Have a magnificent Monday and good whatever you're doing!!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Thriving Thursday
Wow what a day yesterday was. I'm so excited about my book sale. It was a pirate story. Remember, I said I loved pirate stories. I wasn't kidding. I love those old classic pirate movies from the fifties and sixties expecially when they got to be in Technicolor! When one comes on I head for the couch with a bowl of popcorn or a snickers bar for ninety minutes of pure enjoyment. I think that's why Pirates of the Carriabean was so popular, just pure swashbuckling entertainment.
The Virgin Pirate is the name of my book and is the story about Nellie Bouchard who was born to a captured noblewoman and a pirate captain. She's known no other life than that of a pirate. When her father was hanged, she took over his ship and has become nearly as infamous as he was.
But beautiful, fiery Nellie wonders about a different life, a life where something more exists between a man and a woman than the unfeeling matings she's witnessed between her men and their doxies. When she captures Lord Trey Carlyle, he's all too willing to teach her what she wants to know and in return he'll take her ship. He hasn't counted on the fact that he can learn a thing or two from a Virgin Pirate.
I'll post the date of its release. I hope you all will enjoy it. As for now, I have to get back to work on my current book. HER PIRATE LOVER. Very sexy. Very romantic. I won't be posting on Freaky Friday. Hope you all have a great Holiday.
The Virgin Pirate is the name of my book and is the story about Nellie Bouchard who was born to a captured noblewoman and a pirate captain. She's known no other life than that of a pirate. When her father was hanged, she took over his ship and has become nearly as infamous as he was.
But beautiful, fiery Nellie wonders about a different life, a life where something more exists between a man and a woman than the unfeeling matings she's witnessed between her men and their doxies. When she captures Lord Trey Carlyle, he's all too willing to teach her what she wants to know and in return he'll take her ship. He hasn't counted on the fact that he can learn a thing or two from a Virgin Pirate.
I'll post the date of its release. I hope you all will enjoy it. As for now, I have to get back to work on my current book. HER PIRATE LOVER. Very sexy. Very romantic. I won't be posting on Freaky Friday. Hope you all have a great Holiday.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wacky Wednesday
Hey, everybody. I have a secret. What is it? I'm glad you ask! I just sold The Virgin Pirate to Respendence!!! Am I excited? I'm glad you ask! My husband had to scrape me off the ceiling.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Titillating Tuesday
That's an appropriate title since I am working on a new book. Don't have a name yet, it's my attempt at Steampunk as in League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Lots of research required, but I'm enjoying the possibilities. Rhianna is a witch and her father, a well known alchemist, has been kidnapped. Now someone is trying to kidnap her, but Maximillian Spencer is on the job!! In more ways than one.
I love writing, but I've developed a new passion. Painting. I'm trying to learn to do portraits. Did a pretty good job on a portrait of my grandson. The sun is shining today with the promise of 80 degree weather!! What more can we ask for? I'm going to clean my bathrooms and get out my summer clothes, then I'm going to paint!! Sounds like a fun day to me!
I love writing, but I've developed a new passion. Painting. I'm trying to learn to do portraits. Did a pretty good job on a portrait of my grandson. The sun is shining today with the promise of 80 degree weather!! What more can we ask for? I'm going to clean my bathrooms and get out my summer clothes, then I'm going to paint!! Sounds like a fun day to me!
Monday, March 29, 2010
Moaning Monday
No, I'm not going to moan today. I don't have time. Remember time if flying by. I'm just going to rant and rave a minute about a horrible e-mail I got this morning which was forward supposedly by a man who was a marine and has worked hard and has a quarter million dollar condo which his daughter and grand daughter live in while he and his wife live somewhere else. He didn't give a lot of information on that property. He sanctimoniously said he worked hard for the things he owned. (He was a five term state senator.) and he had a lot of other stuff to say about people who won't work and expect those who do to support them, to spread the wealth around. I wonder if that man ever considered that he had some extra perks along the way. Obviously, a good education, otherwise he wouldn't have been a state senator for five terms and that's the biggest plus. But he probably also came from a good home where he got three squares a day, clean clothes to wear every day, a warm bed, his own room, a p.c. and the inspiration and encouragement to make more out of his life. Does he ever ask himself would I ever have done so well if I'd come from behind like some of these people are doing? So stick your nose in the air, you jerk and keep it there, while I pray for a heavy downpour!!!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Silly Sunday
Wow, I woke up grouchy this morning and still am frowning. I think my face froze that way. Everything that anyone said today made me even grumpier. I managed to keep my mouth shut and not blurt out what I was really thinking and this was at church. At one point, I said a little prayer to God, Put a guard over my mouth. It hasn't worked so far. I've been ranting and raving about people all day long.
Well, I'm going to not think about any of that. I'll think about it tomorrow!! Now what famous southern miss said that?
I'm going to write about my books. I have four out to e-publishers. One is a vampire book. A beautiful, but dowdy librarian is bitten by a vampire and saved just in the nick by a vampire hunter with a special potion But as the vampire venom wages a battle within her body with the Holy Potion, she undergoes drastic changes. She becomes a hot, sexy babe with a taste for stilettos, sexy lingerie and grade A blood, in a plastic bag, if you please. She also develops the hots for a Romanian Vampire Killer and together they wipe out a bunch of the nasties while doing the nasty themselves.
Dirty Little Secrets is the name of my second book and it's about Billie Stone, a con artist who's made her first million and is working on her second when she sees something she shouldn't have, a murder! Now she has the mob. a sexy Detroit bunco squad detective and a rookie police officer after her. But Billie is hard to catch and she has no hesitation to blow up a police car and a gangland's bada bing place of business, or be partner to stealing a brand new Porche from the Detroit Auto Show among other outrageous antics.
The Bliss Shop is the creation of Bliss Maxine Donovan and she doesn't take kindly to having a beautiful prostitute killed in her changing room or to being blamed for the murder. Despite her mistrust of lawyers, she hires a sharp criminal attorney, Sam Tucker and together they set out to find the real killer and in so doing find a little bliss for themselves
I love a good pirate story!!! The first book I ever wrote was a pirate story. This one is about Nellie Bouchard, the daughter of a famous pirate, Black Jack Bartlet who was hanged for his shenanigans. Raised among pirates, Nellie knows how to handle herself with a motley crew. She captains her own ship but knows nothing of the way between men and women. When they capture an English Frigate she meets a handsome Englishman who's all too ready to remedy that situation.
There, I feel better writing about adventure and romance! Hope to hear something soon from my publishers and find that I've sold one or two of my little stories. I'll keep you posted.
Well, I'm going to not think about any of that. I'll think about it tomorrow!! Now what famous southern miss said that?
I'm going to write about my books. I have four out to e-publishers. One is a vampire book. A beautiful, but dowdy librarian is bitten by a vampire and saved just in the nick by a vampire hunter with a special potion But as the vampire venom wages a battle within her body with the Holy Potion, she undergoes drastic changes. She becomes a hot, sexy babe with a taste for stilettos, sexy lingerie and grade A blood, in a plastic bag, if you please. She also develops the hots for a Romanian Vampire Killer and together they wipe out a bunch of the nasties while doing the nasty themselves.
Dirty Little Secrets is the name of my second book and it's about Billie Stone, a con artist who's made her first million and is working on her second when she sees something she shouldn't have, a murder! Now she has the mob. a sexy Detroit bunco squad detective and a rookie police officer after her. But Billie is hard to catch and she has no hesitation to blow up a police car and a gangland's bada bing place of business, or be partner to stealing a brand new Porche from the Detroit Auto Show among other outrageous antics.
The Bliss Shop is the creation of Bliss Maxine Donovan and she doesn't take kindly to having a beautiful prostitute killed in her changing room or to being blamed for the murder. Despite her mistrust of lawyers, she hires a sharp criminal attorney, Sam Tucker and together they set out to find the real killer and in so doing find a little bliss for themselves
I love a good pirate story!!! The first book I ever wrote was a pirate story. This one is about Nellie Bouchard, the daughter of a famous pirate, Black Jack Bartlet who was hanged for his shenanigans. Raised among pirates, Nellie knows how to handle herself with a motley crew. She captains her own ship but knows nothing of the way between men and women. When they capture an English Frigate she meets a handsome Englishman who's all too ready to remedy that situation.
There, I feel better writing about adventure and romance! Hope to hear something soon from my publishers and find that I've sold one or two of my little stories. I'll keep you posted.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Pick up the Pace, Life is flying by
Yo, so check it out, dude. Obviously, I've been watching too much American Idol which is not as much fun this year. Is it me or them? Anyway, it's spring time, a perfect excuse to 'spring' into a new mind set and put aside the fuzzy blanket, the lazy afternoon spent snuggled on the couch watching old movies and get my butt in gear. My house needs attention, hell, my life needs attention, so I've decided to take some short cuts in life. Throw out all the old comfort attitudes and move into a new zone. I'm going to set new goals and drop old projects that have swamped me for the past few weeks and go on to something that grabs me and won't let go.
Before I throw away everything I want to give you a quick potluck cake recipe. I call it:
Bring Home Empty Pan Carrot Cake
1 box of Carrot Cake Box Mix
Add: 1 l5 oz can pumpkin
1/2 cup spiced rum
1/2 to 1 cup raisins your preference
Mix on medium for at 2 minutes. Pour into greased cake pan, bake at temperature recommended on box
Ice with 2 cups powdered sugar, 1/2 stick marg/butter and enough spiced rum to make icing spreadable. Delicious. My church family loved it.
Before I throw away everything I want to give you a quick potluck cake recipe. I call it:
Bring Home Empty Pan Carrot Cake
1 box of Carrot Cake Box Mix
Add: 1 l5 oz can pumpkin
1/2 cup spiced rum
1/2 to 1 cup raisins your preference
Mix on medium for at 2 minutes. Pour into greased cake pan, bake at temperature recommended on box
Ice with 2 cups powdered sugar, 1/2 stick marg/butter and enough spiced rum to make icing spreadable. Delicious. My church family loved it.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Friday night at dusk
It's the end of the week, a busy week and my grandson is busy watching Icarly. I think he's in love with her. He's only seven, but he's quite the lady's man. He always juggles a couple of girl friends. I know his bus driver and she keeps me posted.
My pal, my Shih tzu, Gizz is laying in his favorite spot at the foot of the twin bed in my office, looking out the window at the backyard which he guards zealously. My husband spent too much time and energy today cutting down an old wild Maple tree that he's been saying for thirty years, he's going to get rid of. Well now he's done it and I can't help remember that old Russian Classic written by ?, about the old man with an apple or cherry tree. He hated the tree and tried to cut it down but the tree's roots were too deep and hard for him, catching him in their evil clutches so the old man died. Anyway, that spindly, stubborn maple got its revenge because my dear husband is so sore, he can barely walk. Or it could just be that he didn't use common sense and stop and rest, leaving some to do the next day.
Anyway, this entry is suppose to be about me. I guess the people above are as much about me as anyone could get. I've spent a lot of years with that stubborn man and love him dearly and my terrific grandson is a delight to me. Soon, he'll leave iCarly behind and come snuggle up on my king size bed and we'll read books and talk and giggle and tickle, just like I did with his mom. We'll say prayers together and grow sleepy talking about the day's events.
But there is more to me than just my family, although they are the most important part. There's a side of me who likes to paint and write and sing and sew and whatever strikes my fancy! So I want to talk about my writing. I've written and had published 20 historicals, americana westerns, big contemporaries and a mystery. I took a hiatus from writing for a while and now have started up again. Currently I have four books out with e-books. They're fun to write, contemporary, and sexy. They're mostly mysteries because that's what I like to read and write. I'm also working on a Scottish Historical for the main market. I've been writing for 20 years and enjoyed a steady career until health made me take a break! But I'm back now and having a ball! You can take that however you wish since I'm currently writing erotica! That's enough about me for now!!
My pal, my Shih tzu, Gizz is laying in his favorite spot at the foot of the twin bed in my office, looking out the window at the backyard which he guards zealously. My husband spent too much time and energy today cutting down an old wild Maple tree that he's been saying for thirty years, he's going to get rid of. Well now he's done it and I can't help remember that old Russian Classic written by ?, about the old man with an apple or cherry tree. He hated the tree and tried to cut it down but the tree's roots were too deep and hard for him, catching him in their evil clutches so the old man died. Anyway, that spindly, stubborn maple got its revenge because my dear husband is so sore, he can barely walk. Or it could just be that he didn't use common sense and stop and rest, leaving some to do the next day.
Anyway, this entry is suppose to be about me. I guess the people above are as much about me as anyone could get. I've spent a lot of years with that stubborn man and love him dearly and my terrific grandson is a delight to me. Soon, he'll leave iCarly behind and come snuggle up on my king size bed and we'll read books and talk and giggle and tickle, just like I did with his mom. We'll say prayers together and grow sleepy talking about the day's events.
But there is more to me than just my family, although they are the most important part. There's a side of me who likes to paint and write and sing and sew and whatever strikes my fancy! So I want to talk about my writing. I've written and had published 20 historicals, americana westerns, big contemporaries and a mystery. I took a hiatus from writing for a while and now have started up again. Currently I have four books out with e-books. They're fun to write, contemporary, and sexy. They're mostly mysteries because that's what I like to read and write. I'm also working on a Scottish Historical for the main market. I've been writing for 20 years and enjoyed a steady career until health made me take a break! But I'm back now and having a ball! You can take that however you wish since I'm currently writing erotica! That's enough about me for now!!
Monday, March 22, 2010
Late on a windy Night
It's late on a windy night when the house is hushed and quiet. The family dog is sleeping on the twin bed set up here in my office. My husband is asleep in the other room and a night wind howls around the corners of the house like a lost soul searching out a safe haven. I told my grandson one time that our house doesn't have any ghosts and I believe that. I don't think anyone likely died in this house. It was a summer cottage which eventually got added on to and winterized and became a lake house. People came here to have fun and enjoy themselves on hot summer days. One of the previous owners was an engineer and his wife was a painter and if any spirits are here, then theirs might be because I've found myself taking up painting again and am enjoying it a great deal. My husband and I also do a lot of gardening in the summer as did they and my husband is an engineer.
But those people sold the cottage when it got to be too much for them and moved closer to their children, so they left behind vibes of contentment and the peace of acceptance and wise joy. I'm sure this house has echoed with the laughter and shrieks of their grandchildren as it does with mine.
That's a good feeling to have. We've been here nearly forty years now and this old house has sheltered and sustained us. it's our home, so much a part of us we can't envision living anyplace else. It's part of who we are and what we made of ourselves and our marriage and family. When our grandson comes he enjoys himself here because I think he feels the same love and stability. He picks raspberries in the summer with his grandfather and helps in the garden and plays along the shoreline and goes canoeing and boating and bicycling with grandpa. He helps me make cookies and eats big thick slice of my home made bread. He runs and plays until his little body grows hot with the sweet smell of little boy sweat and then he grabs something to drink or a frozen popsicle and starts over again.
Now a granddaughter who lives close by comes over and runs around in the yard, her fat little baby legs doing their best to keep up with big brother, her fine baby hair blowing in the breeze. Big brother puts her in a wagon and pulls her around and up a hill and all the way, her little hand is pointing at the ground. She wants out to run and go under her own steam. What laughter! At times like this you think about God and the reason he puts us on earth and you ask, why me? Why am I given such joy? Why am I so blessed?
But those people sold the cottage when it got to be too much for them and moved closer to their children, so they left behind vibes of contentment and the peace of acceptance and wise joy. I'm sure this house has echoed with the laughter and shrieks of their grandchildren as it does with mine.
That's a good feeling to have. We've been here nearly forty years now and this old house has sheltered and sustained us. it's our home, so much a part of us we can't envision living anyplace else. It's part of who we are and what we made of ourselves and our marriage and family. When our grandson comes he enjoys himself here because I think he feels the same love and stability. He picks raspberries in the summer with his grandfather and helps in the garden and plays along the shoreline and goes canoeing and boating and bicycling with grandpa. He helps me make cookies and eats big thick slice of my home made bread. He runs and plays until his little body grows hot with the sweet smell of little boy sweat and then he grabs something to drink or a frozen popsicle and starts over again.
Now a granddaughter who lives close by comes over and runs around in the yard, her fat little baby legs doing their best to keep up with big brother, her fine baby hair blowing in the breeze. Big brother puts her in a wagon and pulls her around and up a hill and all the way, her little hand is pointing at the ground. She wants out to run and go under her own steam. What laughter! At times like this you think about God and the reason he puts us on earth and you ask, why me? Why am I given such joy? Why am I so blessed?
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Growing in New Directions
So here I am, the second day of blogdom and I managed to get on with only one call for help. This is almost like journaling except I'm ever aware that people can read what I write. So what wisdom should I impart on my blog, what funny nonsense should I utter to make you come back for more? What innermost feelings must I guard?
I guess I'll just tell you a little bit about myself. I live on a lake and the summers are great fun. Winters are not bad either because we cozy in and don't have much in the way of company. We let the house go and instead of dusting read a good book. I like mysteries by the way and of course, romance. I bake more in the winter time. This year I did a marathon on bread baking until my bread machine broke and now I use my dough hook on my mixer, but not as frequently. I love cooking and the food TV network is my favorite channel. That and Desperate Housewives. Even my husband gets caught up in their antics. Of course, he used to love to watch Sex in the City as well. He was surprised at what women think about a lot of things and how sexual we really are. He's from the old fashioned school of thought. But I digress.
In the winter time, I take up a lot of hobbies besides cooking. This year I went back to an old love, painting, which has enriched my life so much. Met two wonderful ladies there and of course our instructor Bob who is a love with sagging jowls and a beautific smile. He never criticizes but gives you great advice on how to make your painting better, but you have to ask. And I guess that's true in so many things in life. We have to ask. We have to take an active passionate approach to everything we do. We have to look at our life, recognize the value of it and look to see how we can make it better and we have to not be afraid to ask. I think that must be my pearl of wisdom for this posting. That we reach out to those around us, to life itself. We have to connect and not be afraid to offer our own passions whatever they are. Sure, we risk failure and rejection, but that's just a part of the whole process. On the other hand we might be successful, then what joy!! We just never know if we don't risk it.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Getting Started in Many Things
Well, I decided I'd join the cyber world in the 21st Century, so here I am with my first blog. Don't what I'm doing yet, but I'm trying. I promise to be funny and interesting and scintillating and whatever else. For now I'm just trying it out, sort of like 'testing 1-2-3. In the future I'll tell you what my family is like, there's a bag of dsyfunctia and brainless humor, but I like each and every one of them from my little Shih Tzu who likes to gnaw on everyone's feet or a little granddaughter of 16 months who thinks she's at least 7 years old or a 7 year grandson who's gifted and funny and thinks he's 21. Anyway, I'll tell you about me because that's the subject I know most about and find most fascinating!! I'll also tell you about my writing career, my progress with learning to paint and my thoughts on many subjects. Be forewarned, I'm an opinionated lady.
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