Saturday, September 29, 2007

Bonus Friday Feature Presentation

Another banned commercial!

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Friday, September 28, 2007

Friday Feature Presentation--Banned Commercials



Enjoy your weekend!

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Charlie Horse Licks and Promises!

Is there anyone out there who remembers Charlie Horse -- the lone male romance reader in blogland at one time?

When I first started blogging two-and-a-quarter years ago, the romance community was still fairly small. Hard to believe today. Anyway, Charlie was one of us--our beloved, token male-- and then one day he upped and disappeared. His new apartment had been broken into and his laptop stolen. The Internet being the Big Brother it is, The Way Back Machine stored some of Charlie's old posts.

But guess what? We don't need no steenkin' Way Back Machine. Charlie's back! and he's just as male as ever. What's more, he's gone and reviewed A Lick and A Promise!

Please join me in giving Charlie a big ole wet, sloppy welcome!

It's good to have ya back.

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Thursday, September 27, 2007

Thirteen Things I Use Everyday Without Fail




1) A mini, stainless steel colander -- perfect for washing lunchbox portions of fruit and veggies. Yes. My kids take raw veggies of all kinds for lunch. So what?

2) A mini, stainless steel spatula -- great for half-dollar pancakes and a single fried egg. Yes. I make my kids breakfast everyday. So what?

3) A mini, Farberware skillet to cook their breakfast (Yes. I'm seeing a trend here. So what?)

4) A 16oz mason jar for my morning iced coffee. Have you ever used a huge honkin' jar as a drinking glass? You should.

5) Mascara

6) A caliper to measure how far my jawline sagged overnight. Well, at least I would if I had one.

7) A toothbrush. Just thought ya'll should know that.

8) The Powah of Positive Thinking -- I do some sort of affirmation everyday. That's actually why I've committed to making breakfast and lunch for the children everyday for the last fifteen years now. That way, at least I've done one good thing to affirm!

9) Google Calendar reminders. God, how did I live without that before?

10) Three little words: I. Love. You. -- without a doubt, the most important thing I do.

11) A cliche. How can anyone get through the day without one?

12) The ice machine. There's no cure for my ice addiction. I checked.

13) Comedy. To make someone--anyone--laugh. I was preprogrammed at the factory to self-destruct if I don't.


1. Gabrielle

2. Heather

3.
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Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Hump Day Hussy!



















Today is the premiere of my regular Wednesday feature, Humpin' For Release with Ann Wesley Hardin! Don't you just love my graphic? Doesn't she look just like me?

*crickets*

Movin' on.

Besides being Hump Day, Wednesday is also one of two release days for smokin' hot stories from Ellora's Cave. The Hussies wanted to provide a small, intimate environment to dish about the new releases, so head on over for some humpin' good fun. Even if you're not reading, or releasing, today, say hi!

The Hussies want you!

Ps -- If you're still not convinced you need to stop by, maybe our Official Hussy Hunk can persuade you...Yes, this man is ours. All ours. Want him to be yours too?

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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Because I Said So!


Child number one and I rented this fun little romantic comedy gem the other night. Oh it had some flaws, careening from shrill and hysterical to pedestrian from time to time. And there was one ridiculous, pointless car chase scene that I would've slashed if I'd written it. But overall it was a movie that really celebrated life, human foibles, the mother/daughter relationship, and falling in love.

Diane Keaton amazed me. Have to admit I never really appreciated her before -- perhaps I was too young during her heyday to see what a superior actress she is, and such a joy to watch. No one does quirky better, and this time, instead of angsty quirk, she blessed us with cute (albeit often annoying) quirk -- just like a mom.

All the performances were top notch, from Mandy Moore -- who's freakin' adorable -- to the Johnny Depp lookalike (wowza, where'd he come from?) love interest. Everyone looked like they were having a blast. So we did too.

What I enjoyed most about the story was the differences between falling in love as a youngster vs oldster. The kids were so much more reluctant, frightened and full of doubt whereas the old timers just said, what the hell, let's have some fun! Booyah!

So today, say it with me.

What the hell. Let's have some fun!

Why?

Because I said so!

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Who's a Hussy?


I'm a Hussy!

Oh yeah, I'm sure many of you suspected it already. Some knew for sure. And you're keeping those lips zipped, aren't you? There's a good bad bo...er...person!

No really!

The fabulous, talented Hussies of Ellora's Cave have invited me into their ranks and I couldn't be more amazed and honored. We'll be hosting chats at the Hussies Club, running contests, featuring the brightest authors on the Bookslam blog and...

AND...

*tossing confetti*

We're going to have our own series of books from Ellora's Cave! Yes, you heard me right. Our own series! Take a look at the video Syneca (cover artist extraordinaire) created for it. I absolutely love the premise.

Can ya'll guess which story I'm going to contribute?

Here's a hint: woof.

So, join the Hussies Club, add the blog to your sidebar. Free your inner Hussie!

God knows I have.

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Thursday, September 20, 2007

I Was A Bad Girl Wanna Be

In reminiscing about all the bad boys I've loved before, I remembered one of my own attempts at badness that happened the summer after High School graduation.

My friend Diana and I, compadres since 9th grade (and to this day) were lolling around in my room about 2:00 AM, with no entertainment in sight.

At eighteen, I was old enough to drink, but alas, Diana was still only seventeen. Besides, we weren't into drinking then. We'd probably already drawn portraits of each other and put our pencils away -- that's the kind of geeky stuff we usually did. Nothing was on TV. We didn't have one of those new fangled instruments called a VCR. Computers were still the size of jumbo jets. So what were two bored teenaged girls to do?

We wanted to be bad for once. Really bad.

The answer hit us: Kidnap someone.

Don't ask me why that was our answer. Some things just are.

Anyway. There was this youth minister at church who'd been flirting with me. Yes. A Youth Minister. Stop laughing. I was a well-raised bad girl wanna-be.

But all my proper training flew out the wing-window of my red '66 Beetle as we breezed down the road to Earl's* house (*names have been changed to protect the holier-than-thou).

Earl lived in a tired old farmhouse next to the church. Naturally I knew where his bedroom was (don't tell Mom). By now it was pushing 3:00 AM. We threw pebbles at his window until his rumpled blond head poked out.

"This is a kidnapping," we whispered, because proper young bad girls don't wake the neighbors during an abduction.

He disappeared from the upstairs window and reappeared in the doorway, tugging up his jeans. "What?"

"We're kidnapping you."

Where did we kidnap him to? Why the Diner, of course. Isn't that where all bad girls write their ransom notes?

We had a blast -- until we got home.

A light was on in the kitchen. On the other side of a floor-to-ceiling picture window, my father was fixing breakfast.

Insta-infarction.

Clever and quick witted, I gunned the Beetle and circled the block. All the while Diana was screaming helpful hints such as, "Ohmigod, what are we gonna do? Ohmigod, what are we gonna do?"

But besides being a freshly minted bad girl, I was a pilot's daughter. And pilots always have a contingency plan. On the final approach to the house, I killed the engine and coasted silently up the driveway.

A brilliant plan. Except...

The Beetle didn't roll all the way up.

And that's where this story ends.

Not because I got captured and imprisoned. But because Diana and I not only successfully pushed the Beetle up the driveway, we also steered it over to the side, where it belonged. My father, puttering in the kitchen, never looked behind him out the window.

If a girl does something bad and there's no one there to nab her, is she really bad?

'Fess up. What crazy stunts did you pull in your teens? Were you a Real Bad Girl, or were you a Bad Girl Wanna Be, like me?

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Thirteen Famous Quotes About Sex

  1. “See, the problem is that God gives men a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time.”–Robin Williams
  2. “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place.” –Billy Crystal
  3. “My mother never saw the ironny in calling me a son-of-a-bitch.” –Jack Nicholson
  4. “Women might be able to fake orgasms. But men can fake whole relationships.” –Sharon Stone
  5. “Sex at age 90 is like trying to shoot pool wth a rope.” –George Burns
  6. “You know “that look” women get when they want sex? Me neither.” –Steve Martin
  7. “I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy.” — Tom Clancy
  8. “Instead of getting married again, I’m going to find a woman I don’t like and just give her a house.” –Rod Stewart
  9. “According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgemental, where, of course, men are just grateful.” — Robert De Niro
  10. “Women complain about premenstral syndrome, but I think of it as the only time of the month that I can be myself.” –Roseanne
  11. “Ah, yes, divorce, from the Latin word meaning to rip out a man’s genitals through his wallet.” –Robin Williams
  12. “Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is.” –Barbara Bush
  13. “Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don’t have a good partner, you’d better have a good hand.” –Woody Allen

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Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come For You?

Bad Boys! Bad Boys!

Staples on the silver screen and in romance novels, the bad boy curls our toes. He's witty, he's wicked and he's dangerous. He might use you and toss you away. Or, he might go down on his knees before your womanly charms and stay a bad boy -- but your bad boy -- forever.

Is it this risk that's so attractive? A man might get his adrenaline highs from sky-diving, racing, or football. But a woman, relationship oriented as she is, often goes straight to the bad boy for her chemical thrills.

Let's take a closer look at some types of Bad Boys in their Natural Environments:

Here's an example of the Suave Bad Boy -- This one you can freely approach and flirt with. Go ahead and touch him! He'll relish the encounter because The Suave Bad Boy isn't easily frightened. Blessed with overblown self-assurance and oodles of experience, he knows he can get rid of you anytime he wants!


Here is the Wounded Bad Boy -- Shhhh. Be vewwy, vewwy quiet. You don't want to scare him. This Bad Boy suffers from either My Momma Done Me Wrong or Wah My First Girl Hurt Me syndrome, or both. He needs your soft, consistent help and healing touch. But you'll only get one chance. Make one wrong move and he's outta there!


And here's an example of the Just Plain Bad Bad Boy. He visits with his aging parents regularly -- every Saturday at the State Penitentiary! He's wary, he's sly, can't tell truth from a lie. He's irredeemable but that won't stop you from trying to save him. He just needs your luuuurv!

So tell us, who's your favorite bad boy? What type thrills you in a book or in real life? If you stumbled on one would you turn tail and run, or would you dare to take the risk? Whatcha gonna do when he comes for you?

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Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Final Approach

Here's a fun movie I stole from Mystery Man. Funnily enough, a similar thing happened several years ago on a highway paralleling Dallas/Fort Worth's runway. There were T-storms in the area, and wicked downdrafts. A Delta flight got caught in one upon landing.

So this guy, tooling along, looks in his rearview mirror and sees a big ass wheel. I can't even imagine what that did to his insides -- emptied them, probably. It thumped his roof, bounced back into the air, then surged ahead and smashed down on the car in front of him.

Moral of the story -- don't drive on roads that parallel runways during T-storms ;)

Anyway, here's the movie:

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Monday, September 17, 2007

Doing The Boy King


So yesterday we journeyed forth into Philadelphia for the once-in-a-lifetime Treasures of Tutankhamun Tour. It was a twice in a lifetime event for me -- I saw it at the Metropolitan Museum of Art back in the late seventies -- but we won't quibble. Enough time had passed for me to awed anew at the collection. We saw this:

And this:

This Viscera Coffinette (who stole my liver!)

And this highly unsettling and creepy recreation:
(The children couldn't believe they gave him Caucasian skin. I was rather taken by the head-shaping. Didn't know they did this in Egypt and leads me to believe this is where all the "aliens built the pyramids" crap comes from)

But alas, we didn't see this:

Or this:


Or this: sigh.

Still, a good day had by all viewing the incredibly intricate jewelry that must've taken months to create, little inlaid chairs and stools used by the king, and a small collection of his personal items: a pocket Senet game, a hand mirror in the shape of an ankh, and a duck-shaped compact case -- even the men wore makeup if they could afford it. And these kids think they're so original, today.

The whole day, I couldn't get this song outta my head. Now my children finally get it, although child number two did say, "Was this funnier when you were little?"

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Saturday, September 15, 2007

Gehen der Abstand und Kaffee, Tee oder Lea?



In the Big Announcement Dept., Going the Distance has been picked up by a German publishing company! I don't have cover art or a release date yet, but some way, some how, I'm gonna get me a copy.

Child number two is taking German this year, but somehow I doubt she'll be using GTD as a learning tool. Not long ago she wandered in, brushing her teeth, while I was writing a scene. I've gotten rather lax and forgot to minimize the screen. I discovered my mistake when the toothbrush froze in her mouth, her eyes bugged out, and her butt scurried out the door. There was also horrified, gurgling scream.

But I digress.

Quite a few EC titles have been picked up by various international publishing houses as they test the foreign market for erotic romance. So all you international readers, watch out! We's a comin'

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Friday, September 14, 2007

Friday Feature Presentation--Men's Fashion, A Dorkumentary


Ya'll can thank Fabdame for sending me this very worthy Friday Feature Presentation

Be sure to take the clothing tour!

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Thursday, September 13, 2007

The Tanker

Bev gave me the idea for this post. It's a painful one to admit, but hey, maybe we'll all learn something about marketing, publishing and the power of trends.

Out of This World is Bev's favorite book. Mine too.

Mrs. Giggles (a notoriously hard-to-please reviewer) gave it a 94 out of 100. Mystery Man, who is a man, and a screenwriter and who had never read an erotic romance before, loved it. My friend Dana (who gives me Moppits whenever I sell a manuscript) wants to marry Arnie. Heather Rae Scott (the first person to ever crit me on Miss Behavior) begged me for Arnie's story after she read it, and so did Elizabeth and other reviewers.

Every freakin' person who's read this book has loved it.

So, what's the point of this post?

The point is: OOTW tanked at the box office. Most authors have one of these books at some point in their careers, so really, it's no great shame or anything. But my question is, if Arnie is such an awesome hero, why isn't he selling?

I think it's his name: Arnie Simpson. Not your typical romance hero name. But Vicki Lewis Thompson writes NYT bestselling nerd books. Are any of her nerdy heroes named Rafe? I don't think so. But I could be wrong.

Mystery Man thinks it's the cover -- too bland, he says, and what are they doing, waltzing? But child number two tells me it's her favorite cover of all my books.

What do you think? Why is the book of my heart and my voice so unpopular? Sure I can sit here in front of my computer and tell myself, "Genius is never recognized during its time." And on a good day, I believe myself. But there MUST be another answer.

Ideas?

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Romance Junkies Gives A Lick and A Promise 4 Blue Ribbons!

He's an alien strung out on Earth's atmosphere, and she’s a woman obsessed with a lover she meets only in her dreams. When Mark and Dove cross paths, it’s nothing short of disastrous, yet they're drawn together in way that neither of them can explain.

Dove Hansen can't understand the pull she feels for a recovering addict, and she begins to question her taste in men. It's blatantly obvious to her that her dream lover is the safest date she is gonna find. She wants to walk away and not be attracted to Mark, but it seems her body and her heart have other plans entirely.

Mark Arianos is far from the junkie Dove thinks him to be. In reality, he's an alien and the Earth's atmosphere is more then he can take. As he slowly becomes accustomed to his new surroundings, he finds that his plans are being waylaid by his feelings for Dove. He knows that he can't act on his desires in reality, but in her dreams he can be the lover she needs. Making a move for her out in the open could threaten his mission and expose him to his enemies.

As these two strong-willed people clash and deny their unrequited longings, their lives become more and more entwined. Can and alien and earthling come together and find happiness, or will secrets and deceptions derail them before they even get a chance?

A LICK AND A PROMISE is full of hot steamy interludes that will fog your glasses and sidesplitting humor that will leave you in stitches. As Mark and Dove valiantly fight their attraction and weave there way through a plot line riddled with subterfuge, you can't help but love them.

Each character in this story brings something special with them that makes it so much more than just a romance with a HEA. From Dove's aunts to Michael, her five-year-old charge, we meet people who clearly make Dove the lovable character I found her to be.

Ms. Hardin's humor and voice are strong and clear throughout the pages of A LICK AND A PROMISE, making it an all-around great read. She's penned a story that is so well-balanced and witty that I wished it never ended. If you want a book full of humor, romance and enough heat to set you ablaze, then look no further than A LICK AND A PROMISE.

By Romance Junkies Reviewer: Jenn L

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Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Another Occupation You'll Never See In Romance Novels

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

JERR Gives A Lick and A Promise 5 stars!!

I think I deserve a six pack for this, don't you?

Title: A Lick and A Promise
Author: Ann Wesley Hardin
Publisher: Ellora's Cave Publishing
Publisher URL: www.ellorascave.com
Reviewer: Marcy Arbitman
Rating: 5 Stars
Heat level: O

Dove Hansen is terribly concerned about the safety of her young charge. Finishing her day as a nanny, she heard a bizarre noise and found a gorgeous hunk of a man in the bushes. Although Dove has been having imaginary sex nightly with an anonymous dream lover, Mark also attracts her. She can't decide whether she wants Mark or her dream lover, but Mark isn’t what he appears to be. In fact, he’s a fugitive alien from another world and is on Earth for a secret mission. Mark isn't a drunk or a junkie, he is sick from Earth's air. He needs more nitrogen until he adjusts to Earth's air. Will Dove be able to choose between her dream lover and Mark? Will she be able to help Mark's mission?

A Lick and A Promise was a hugely fun book! Mark came from a planet where sex is a capital crime. From the moment Mark saw Dove, he fell for her and I enjoyed their love affair. Dove was a wonderful character. I was a nanny for several years but I was sorry that I did not have an incredibly sexy man like Mark to make love to me in my dreams. Wow, did Dove's dream lover make intensive love to her. She responded excitedly and I found her passion to be realistic and arousing. The secondary characters were amazing. When you learn who they are, I expect you to fall off your chair laughing as I did. The premise was wonderful and the plot was completely in harmony with the depth of the characters and flew smoothly. A Lick and A Promise is the first book that I have read by Ann Wesley Hardin but I am eager to read another.

Marcy Arbitman
Just Erotic Romance Reviews

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Occupations You'll Never See In Romance Novels

A continuing saga.

Wayne Gilbert, a Houston artist, got one of his best ideas while humming along the highway. One day in the late '90s, there he was surrounded by people in cars, going absolutely nowhere, when an idea hit him like a thunderbolt.

"I was trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between what is human about art and what art is about humans," Gilbert said. "And it hit me that I could show that by using human remains (ashes) in my paintings."

Sound like a macabre episode out of Six Feet Under? Not quite, although Gilbert admits that many people find the idea a little off-putting.

"The vast majority start out saying, `Oooh'," he said. "Then they open up to it."

He tells visitors to his 5,000-square-foot home and studio in the Heights that the ashes he uses are all unclaimed from funeral homes -- several as long as 25 years.

"I got the feeling that some of them might have ended up in the trash," he said. "It took me six months of asking, working and phone calls before people would listen to the idea, because I was very up front. I don't feel disrespectful about it; quite the opposite, I feel very respectful."

Gilbert has produced about 50 pieces using human remains. At first the ashes were mixed with color, but now he just mixes them with a high-quality clear resin gel that he refers to as his palette. Everyone, he says, makes a different color.

Too bad there's not another way to get this information. I think I'm yellow. What about you?

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Sunday, September 09, 2007

What's in His Kiss?

More and less than we think.

In a groundbreaking study, the brilliant folks at SUNY discovered that men and women have different reasons for kissing. Apparently, women use kissing to bond emotionally with their partner, while men use kissing to get laid.

Knock me over with a feather. I wish they'd give me a fat grant to perfom one of these studies.

Seems the swapping of spit also passes all sorts of information back and forth -- like the health and fertility of your partner -- and it transfers testosterone into the woman's mouth so she'll become more aroused. That fact alone should have every man on the planet smooching up a storm.

But first, he has to know how to do it.

Another shocking finding was that a lousy first kiss can kill a woman's attraction on the spot. Therefore, it would behoove men to read this and this and this. But alas and alack, some men still refuse to suck face with their SOs, possibly because they fear intimacy.

Although some advice columnists think a woman should accept a lip-lockless life if her partner has other good qualities, or because it's just not done in nature once initial courtship has ended, I say, if this fellow can do it, so can those men.



Now there's a panty dampener -- and not necessarily the good kind.

As for what's in his kiss, some things are better left unknown.

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Friday, September 07, 2007

Friday Feature Presentation

I haven't done a Friday Feature Presentation in a long time. Since I've got some new regular readers now, I thought it'd be fun to share some of my favorite vintage presentations.

This particular one, If WWII was an Online Game, ranks as one of my top ten comedy bits of all time. What a way to learn history! Get the tissues, make sure to pee beforehand, and for all that's holy, don't drink and read:

Hitler[AoE] has joined the game.*
*Eisenhower has joined the game.*
*paTTon has joined the game.*
*Churchill has joined the game.*
*benny-tow has joined the game.*
*T0J0 has joined the game.*
*Roosevelt has joined the game.*
*Stalin has joined the game.*
*deGaulle has joined the game.*
Roosevelt: hey sup
T0J0: y0
Stalin: hi
Churchill: hi
Hitler[AoE]: cool, i start with panzer tanks!
paTTon: lol more like panzy tanks
T0JO: lol
Roosevelt: o this fockin sucks i got a depression!
benny-tow: haha america sux
Stalin: hey hitler you dont fight me i dont fight u, cool?
Hitler[AoE]; sure whatever
Stalin: cool
deGaulle: **** Hitler rushed some1 help
Hitler[AoE]: lol byebye frenchy
Roosevelt: i dont got **** to help, sry
Churchill: wtf the luftwaffle is attacking me
Roosevelt: get antiair guns
Churchill: i cant afford them
benny-tow: u n00bs know what team talk is?
paTTon: stfu
Roosevelt: o yah hit the navajo button guys
deGaulle: eisenhower ur worthless come help me quick
Eisenhower: i cant do **** til rosevelt gives me an army
paTTon: yah hurry the fock up
Churchill: d00d im gettin pounded
deGaulle: this is fockin weak u guys suck
*deGaulle has left the game.*
Roosevelt: im gonna attack the axis k?
benny-tow: with what? ur wheelchair?
benny-tow: lol did u mess up ur legs AND ur head?
Hitler[AoE]: ROFLMAO
T0J0: lol o no america im comin 4 u
Roosevelt: wtf! thats bullsh1t u fags im gunna kick ur asses
T0JO: not without ur harbors u wont! lol
Roosevelt: u little biotch ill get u
Hitler[AoE]: wtf
Hitler[AoE]: america hax, u had depression and now u got a huge fockin army
Hitler[AoE]: thats bullsh1t u hacker
Churchill: lol no more france for u hitler
Hitler[AoE]: tojo help me!
T0J0: wtf u want me to do, im on the other side of the world retard
Hitler[AoE]: fine ill clear you a path
Stalin: WTF u arsshoel! WE HAD A FoCKIN TRUCE
Hitler[AoE]: i changed my mind lol
benny-tow: haha
benny-tow: hey ur losing ur guys in africa im gonna need help in italy soon sum1
T0J0: o **** i cant help u i got my hands full
Hitler[AoE]: im 2 busy 2 help
Roosevelt: yah thats right ***** im comin for ya
Stalin: church help me
Churchill: like u helped me before? sure ill just sit here
Stalin: dont be an arss
Churchill: dont be a commie. oops too late
Eisenhower: LOL
benny-tow: hahahh oh sh1t help
Hitler: o man ur focked
paTTon: oh what now biotch
Roosevelt: whos the cripple now lol
*benny-tow has been eliminated.*
benny-tow: lame
Roosevelt: gj patton
paTTon: thnx
Hitler[AoE]: WTF eisenhower hax hes killing all my sh1t
Hitler[AoE]: quit u hacker so u dont ruin my record
Eisenhower: Nuts!
benny~tow: wtf that mean?
Eisenhower: meant to say nutsack lol finger slipped
paTTon: coming to get u hitler u paper hanging hun cocksocker
Stalin: rofl
T0J0: HAHAHHAA
Hitler[AoE]: u guys are fockin gay
Hitler[AoE]: ur never getting in my city
*Hitler[AoE] has been eliminated.*
benny~tow: OMG u noob you killed yourself
Eisenhower: ROFLOLOLOL
Stalin: OMG LMAO!
Hitler[AoE]: WTF i didnt click there omg this game blows
*Hitler[AoE] has left the game*
paTTon: hahahhah
T0J0: WTF my teammates are n00bs
benny~tow: shut up noob
Roosevelt: haha wut a moron
paTTon: wtf am i gunna do now?
Eisenhower: yah me too
T0J0: why dont u attack me o thats right u dont got no ships lololol
Eisenhower: fock u
paTTon: lemme go thru ur base commie
Stalin: go to hell lol
paTTon: fock this sh1t im goin afk
Eisenhower: yah this is gay
*Roosevelt has left the game.*
Hitler[AoE]: wtf?
Eisenhower: sh1t now we need some1 to join
*tru_m4n has joined the game.*
tru_m4n: hi all
T0J0: hey
Stalin: sup
Churchill: hi
tru_m4n: OMG OMG OMG i got all his stuff!
tru_m4n: NUKES! HOLY **** I GOT NUKES
Stalin: d00d gimmie some plz
tru_m4n: no way i only got like a couple
Stalin: omg dont be gay gimmie nuculer secrets
T0J0: wtf is nukes?
T0J0: holy ****holy****hoyl****!
*T0J0 has been eliminated.*
*The Allied team has won the game!*
Eisenhower: awesome!
Churchill: gg noobs no re
T0J0: thats bull**** u fockin suck
*T0J0 has left the game.*
*Eisenhower has left the game.*
Stalin: next game im not going to be on ur team, u guys didnt help me for ****
Churchill: wutever, we didnt need ur help neway dumbarss
tru_m4n: l8r all
benny~tow: bye
Churchill: l8r
Stalin: fock u all
tru_m4n: shut up commie lol
*tru_m4n has left the game.*
benny~tow: lololol u commie
Churchill: ROFL
Churchill: bye commie
*Churchill has left the game.*
*benny~tow has left the game.*
Stalin: i hate u all fags
*Stalin has left the game.*
paTTon: lol no1 is left
paTTon: weeeee i got a jeep
*paTTon has been eliminated.*
paTTon: o sh1t!
*paTTon has left the game.*

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Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Brava!

I entered the Brava Novella Contest again this year at the behest of one of my crit partners. For some mysterious reason, she had a strong feeling I should, and when Sunny has strong feelings, I tend to listen. She knows things regular mortals don't ;)

Anyway, I'm not attached to any particular outcome. I enjoy entering certain contests because A) They're free, and B) They're a fun way to get exposure. But entering gave me an idea -- something I've never, ever done before!

I'm going to show you my entry!

This might not seem that unusual, but I've never shown anyone except my crit partners (and Sis) a work-in-progress -- never put an unfinished, unedited, uncontracted snippet out there for public consumption or enjoyment. But, since it might never appear in the Brava contest finals, and you'd have to wait a while to see it in print, here's a small taste of Charade (working title). Let me know what you think!

Chapter One

“He wore an eyepatch, Robin. An eyepatch. I’m not going back down there.” Sela Wilson tugged her push-up bra out through her sleeve and tossed it into the open suitcase. She scratched her back where the bra strap had been and practically had an orgasm—the only kind she was likely to get here. “You guys go have fun with your heroes and I’ll stay here and read.”

Here was her room inside a “Scottish” castle in Saratoga, New York, where rich, bored and, quite possibly, desperate women flocked for the seasonal Fantasy Weekend. Here you could supposedly choose your ultimate romance hero. At least that’s what the glossy brochure said.

Apparently, here, actors were ready and waiting to bring your most breathless fantasy to life—be it with a fireman, doctor or tycoon. Ostensibly, these were chaste weekends, but the small print in the brochure mentioned a discreet don’t ask/don’t tell policy that’d made Robin and Carla wet their panties. Sela too, to be fair. But she generally approached these things with less hope.

“Oh, come on,” Robin hollered through the door of her adjoining room. “Maybe it was his first time. Give him another chance.”

“No.” She’d been willing to play along when Robin suggested they actually participate. Sounded cheesy, but you never knew. Could’ve been fun. And it might’ve been had she chosen a cowboy, like Robin had, or a Navy seal, like Carla. But she hadn’t. Sela had chosen a Gothic hero, picturing a tortured, brooding man like Lawrence Olivier in Rebecca. What she got was a man wearing an eye patch and a rubber scar on his cheek.

Carla bounced into the room in a black polka dot bubble skirt. With her skippy blonde curls and tight white tank, she looked like a pedophile’s legal dream girl. “You’re not going down for the Friday Mixer?”

Sela shook her thick, brown hair out of a ponytail and scratched her scalp. Man. That felt almost as good as the bra-strap-scratch. “I’ll pass on the Friday Mixer. I’m afraid his scar might peel off in my drink.”

“Ew.” Carla wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe that. Did you request a different guy?”

“Yes.”

Robin wandered in wearing a green satin halter dress, her elegant auburn hair in a French twist. Sela’s general style tended to Sporty Spice. Combined, the three women always caused a male buzz.

Robin arched a brow. “And?”

“There is no one else.”

To be fair, the guy himself wasn’t the problem. He’d have been hot enough if she liked his type. Tall, lean, dark hair, square mouth and pale blue eyes—at least the one she could see. But Sela couldn’t get past the dollar-store eyepatch, hence, she couldn’t stop laughing. Oh, and his wooden emo voice, too. He’d been a really bad actor. She seriously hoped he didn’t earn his living this way.

By contrast, Robin’s hero was all Marlboro man—slow drawl and lazy smile. Sex in a saddle. Carla’s seal was ripped, agile and Alpha. She’d already changed panties twice in anticipation of the Friday Mixer.

So they had decent actors here. Really they did. It was a high quality joint. Sela adored her lush bedroom with its classy accoutrements and fixtures. It’s just that she wouldn’t be sharing it. Not with a disfigured ventriloquist’s dummy.

“We feel so bad,” the two women sang at once.

“I know.” And she did. Of all the friends she’d ever had, these two were the best. They’d shared a lot of wacky weekend adventures. You win some you lose some. But overall, she’d had fun. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine here with my book.” And Charlie, she silently added.

Charlie, her dildo, named for the boy who’d deflowered her during homecoming week. He actually hadn’t been a bad lover, and they’d really liked each other. Sometimes, she wondered what ever happened to Charlie, so it made her feel good to name her dildo after him. She was a nostalgic schmuck that way.

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Monday, September 03, 2007

The Holy Grail of Kitsch

I don't think I ever showed ya'll this fabulous little piece of Americana.


This lamp has an engraving on its ceramic base, with the date of the meltdown -- March 28th, 1979. Which means it was made after the accident. That's right. It's a commemorative.

I'll just sit here quietly for a minute while you absorb that.

A commemorative Three Mile Island Lamp.

Are you with me now? Need another minute?

Ages ago, I spotted it in a little antique store in Phoenixville, PA. Checked the price, $45. Picked it up and marched to the register. There was no way in hell I was gonna leave the store without it.

Would you?

Apparently more than a few people would because the guy behind the counter saw me coming and said, "That's been sitting here forever. I'm afraid the shade's gonna get broken. You can have it for $25."

A consummate bargainer, I refrained from telling him I'd have gladly forked over an order of magnitude above that price, and this was probably ten years ago. I'd never seen anything like it and even though I have a few items that are priceless to me -- mostly my dad's WWII gear -- this one just appealed to my not-so-inner black comedian.

No way could I live without it. Could you?

Anyway, child number one, her friend, and I were sitting here a little while ago, discussing the lamp. It recently came to my attention that there's another one in the National Atomic Museum in Albuquerque, NM, and we were trying to wrap our minds around how random an object it is. I mean, who would think of manufacturing something like this? How did the conversation go down? Did management have to approve it? The same management that oversaw plant safety?

We could only imagine what other commemoratives might be floating around out there -- Tsunami boogie boards? Challenger mobiles? A Mt. St. Helen's ashtray? The matching Chernobyl night light to complete my collection?

But of course, no one died in the Three Mile Island disaster, so we decided that's what made it ok to turn it into a reading lamp. Kinda ironic that if the disaster had run its course we'd be able to read from the lights emanating from our own eyes. But I guess that's beside the point.

My friend Dana (the one who gives me Moppits when I sell a manuscript) saw the lamp one day and froze. She turned to me, glassy eyed, and silently held up her arm. All the tiny hairs were standing straight up. "Ann," she whispered. "You've found the Holy Grail of Kitsch."

To this day she's still trying to find one, trying to top me. But she won't. Hehe. How could she? What could possibly top this?

How about you? Any freaky shit in your basement? Attic? Perched on your desk? Where did you find it and why do you love it, but even more importantly, is your freaky shit better than my freaky shit? If so, prove it!

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Happy Labor Day!


The harbinger of the most wonderful time of the year!

I've got to work all day :( What's everyone else doing?

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Saturday, September 01, 2007

An Interview!