Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Excerpts as promised part 2

Behind The Masque...

Put on a mask and live your fantasies. Strip your control, revel in power, let go of truth or live your darkest dreams. For this one night, your wild side shines through. For this one night, this masquerade is you.

Excerpt from Amethyst Moon by Fiona Jayde

Chapter One

With her breasts pushed up and her waist tucked into a ball gown, Gia waited. At least her feet were happy in a pair of sneakers instead of killer high heels. The long black dress she wore was made especially for her—once you relieved someone of their sparkles, sneakers and stretchy pants covered by the removable skirt were as necessary as gloves and wire cutters.

The abundance of sparkles didn’t interest her tonight. These weren’t the glittering society types with their fake breasts and Clorox smiles. The ball was a benefit for Breast Cancer research, complete with pale, cherry colored tablecloths and tiny mementos of pink sapphires for the attending guests.

She’d stuck the pin onto the ribbon at her waist and marveled at the irony. They’d given a thief jewels. Fate was one funny bitch.

Aside from that, she was nervous. The fluttering in her belly was normal before a job, but this raw case of anticipation and nerves was odd and the excitement accompanying it didn’t help.

Shadow was meeting her. And he had Scott Bastien’s face. After months of secretly fantasizing about him, after months of small talk and mild flirting, after all the attempts to speak to him once she realized he was Shadow, she finally had his attention.

Scott Bastien, owner of IntelSecurities, protected the rich sheep he used to target before he angled onto the straight path. And she, Gia Solletti, had broken into his vault and stolen from the thief they’d once called Shadow.

She wasn’t sure why she’d only taken the amethyst. Hooked to a plain silver chain, the clear stone with its endless facets was larger than her thumb and belonged on a grand necklace around a beautiful throat. And if it were, she’d probably steal it again, if only to take a closer look.

The warmth of the gem pulsed between her breasts even as she told herself she couldn’t keep it. She’d gladly give it back to Bastien for half a mil and a consulting job at IntelSecurities. He could, of course, turn her over to Interpol. Gia had no doubt he would attempt to do just that after getting the amethyst back. But there was a small matter of gossip. Imagine, Angia wanted to play a little prank and was able to break into the man’s private vault! A few words in the right ears would finish him—his firm would never provide security to another glittering function. She’d still be in jail—but he’d be ruined.

The thrill of danger made her shiver. She wasn’t meeting him as society’s darling. She was meeting him as his equal. She was meeting him as an accomplished thief finally ready to retire.

She would help the rich and bored keep their treasures out of reach from the likes of… well, her. Same money, less roof climbing.

The stone heated again. She wasn’t the fanciful type, but she could swear it throbbed with some sort of energy, warming then cooling against her skin. The long dangles of Grandmere’s earrings—a surprising match for the amethyst—seemed to echo its warmth as they brushed her neck while she walked around increasingly amorous couples.

She wondered what it was doing in Shadow’s vault. Sentimental in his old age? The idea made her snicker. Maybe it had been the only job he’d botched. Thinking about it, she tripped on the damned long skirt. She yanked, exposing her sneakers, too late realizing that a woman tucked in a murderously red gown was smiling at her.

Shit, had she seen?

Gia frowned as the woman sent her a wink before turning back to the man next to her. The heat between those two was almost palatable. She sighed with just a bit of longing. Some relished passion. She preferred the cool, smooth surface of stones.

The one between her breasts heated more as she sensed someone behind her.

Shadow. Scott.

She turned, forcing herself to keep the movement casual. Her pulse hammered in her throat.

Masked, just like her, in simple black silk. The stone pulsed at her skin as she sized him—tall, broad, gorgeous with his lean face and lush lips against a granite jaw. Too wide in the shoulder for a profession that needed speed more then muscle. Somehow, this close, those shoulders seemed bigger then she remembered.

“Angel.” His voice was smooth and mocking.

The game was on.

Vapor by Sheri Livingston

Chapter One

Ashley moved through the crowded ballroom, a wisp of white satin amongst the men in their starched black tuxedos and the women in their bright, glamorous gowns.

Her gaze landed on a lady wedged against a circular column, her beau sucking and nipping at her neck like a hungry vampire and she gulped.

Hiding her shock, Ashley turned away, scared she’d see way more than she bargained for. She almost collided with another couple who seemed to be just as sex craved, their lips locked as they danced at the edge of the dance floor.

My God, what kind of charity ball is this, anyway?

Her best friend, Danielle, hadn’t given her any indication this thing would practically be an orgy. Or, had she? She said this event would be like no other; that something very special would happen tonight. Had she foreseen public sex, women and men acting like love struck teenagers? Surely not.

“Go!” Danielle had opened her closet door. “Lose control for one freaking night, why don’tcha’? You’re only thirty-four and you live like a damn hermit, sitting in this big ‘ole house all alone, night after night, pecking on that freaking keyboard. Ain’t no one gettin’ any pussy but your damn lesbian characters.”

Danielle took a hefty gulp of her strawberry Daiquiri and stared at the pitiful selection of clothing. “I dare you to go have one, do you hear me, just one fucking night of fun, hot, unadulterated, secret sex!”

Ashley blinked back her best friend’s pleas, scooted around the oblivious couple, and approached the bar. The bartender dragged his gaze away from another couple lip-locked at the far end of the counter. The expression he shot her announced he wasn’t happy about her diverting his attention from the free show.

She ordered a rum and coke and gave him a free token, which he tossed into a basket. Turning away from her in complete dismissal, his sights weaved over the crowd before landing on the couple very close to needing a room.

Dear God, is everyone drugged in this place?

She took a casual stare down at her glass, half expecting to see white foam dissolving in the center. There wasn’t.

With as much grace as she could muster, she wove her way back through the crowd, noticing more couples along her path, all who seemed to be in some state of sexual fog, hands groping, mouths sealed.

While she searched for an empty table, her gaze fell on a woman and man who weren’t so free with their display of fondness.

The man stared down at her as if she were a t-bone steak. Against her ample cleavage, squeezing over the top of her black top, rested a purple stone penetrating with light. It glowed, then dimmed, as if life rested in its core. Ashley gazed down the woman’s dress to a pair of white sneakers. She stifled a smile as the amethyst brightened, pulling her sights back to its magic.

Ashley found herself enthralled, staring at the throbbing brightness. Was it real? Or some kind of costume jewelry she hadn’t heard of?

Either way, it drew the man’s attention like a magnet, casting the same hypnotic sensation on Ashley.

A couple bumped into her, almost spilling Ashley’s drink.

She scowled as they skirted around her, parting the crowd as they rushed toward the exit.

With a grunt, she found an empty table, sat down, and crossed her legs.

She restlessly shifted, watching the sheer tattered strips of her white satin dress slip off her knees. She arched her foot in the air, loving the snug fit of the white-ribbon stilettos climbing her legs, crossing over her shins, tied in a single delicate knot at her lower calf. She smiled as she remembered where she’d discreetly hidden the pink sapphire ribbon the hostess had given her in the lobby. Would anyone get the chance to see it, to remove it?

Isn’t that what she was here for? Even if it was a dare that pushed her to the charity ball?

The dress was a big change from her normal everyday attire of frumpy over-sized t-shirts and snug blue jeans.

She made a mental note to remember the exact way the material of her dress caressed her skin, the way it revealed a tantalizing peek of her upper thighs as she moved her legs. Descriptions were important. Her readers depended on them to bring the words to life, to add color to the black and white pages of her creations.

With a sigh, she let her leg fall back over the other, and glanced around the crowded room. What was she doing here, really? Rarely did anyone meet their knight in shining armor in surroundings like these. Or, in her case, a warrior princess in tight fittin’ jeans.

Not that she was looking for Ms. Right. She’d already met her, fucked her, then ran like the coward she was. That story was a closed book now, literally. Nor was she too proud to say she’d found love at first sight, even if she didn’t know her name, and had felt it clawing its way to the surface of her soul. It might be a myth to some, but she knew the truth. It was real. And it was gone.

She sipped her drink and watched as women glided across the dance floor, the strobes of light catching their gems and sequins, held tight in the arms of their dates. They didn’t seem caught up in whatever aura floated around the couples sucking face and fondling each other.

Lord, again, why had she come here tonight?

Danielle. That’s why. She thought Ashley would balk at the dare.

Well, she came, she saw, she watched. Wasn’t that good enough to say she’d attended? All she wanted right now was to get the hell out of Dodge and back to the unfinished pages of her current book. Didn’t she have an editor tapping her email every other day, reminding a deadline fast approached?

Besides, isn’t that where she got her rush, in the very tales she created? The characters left her breathless as she unfolded their lives. She carried them through their conflicts and black moments, to their peaks and fireworks and, of course, the happily ever after climax.

This ballroom filled with swishing, colorful gowns and starch-stiff tuxedos wasn’t giving her a damn thing, not a single spark of interest for a new plotline, and sure as hell wasn’t helping her find a night of mind-blowing sex. However, by the looks of it, a few couples would be banging the headboards very soon.

What the hell was she thinking letting Danielle, the wannabe cupid of romance, as well as brilliant suspense author, talk her into this? Ashley should have thrown her invitation in the trash where it belonged, or better, made Danielle cancel her book signing to attend with her.

Ashley would give anything to be with her right now, smiling up at her fans from her card table as she autographed her newest release. Damn, there wasn’t anything in the world like having lesbians, fems, butches, and hardcore dykes, eagerly wait for her John Hancock, some who let her know quickly they wanted more than just a copy of her imaginations, though she never took them up on their flirting.

Well, except for one. Ms. Right.

A smile tugged her lips at the memory. God, how long ago had that been? Two years? Three? Right here in this very town.

Before she was at the top of the best seller’s list, that’s how long.

She’d been a newbie, still climbing the rungs of success, shoving her manuscripts into agent’s hands, the ones pretending to give lesbian erotic romance a shot in the dark.

When the big dogs continued to sadly shake their heads in dismissal of her work, she set out to make her own name sparkle, deciding to self-publish her own book, and schedule her first book signing.

There her mystery woman had been, eyes full of want, holding her book like a prized possession.

Please remember that 100% of net proceeds will go directly to breastcancer.org

Todays drink:

In honor of Sheri today drink...Crown and Coke.

After all, what's a Ball if it doesn't have a queen?


Thursday, October 11, 2007

Excerpts excerpts from Behind The Masque

Excerpts just like I promised...
Behind The Masque...

Put on a mask and live your fantasies. Strip your control, revel in power, let go of truth or live your darkest dreams. For this one night, your wild side shines through. For this one night, this masquerade is you.

Excerpt from Once Bitten by Cyan Bell

Chapter One

Music cascaded through open French doors to the ballroom. Flashes of color and movement caught Anna’s eye as she stood in front of the entrance, in an area just outside the monumental room.

An usher held the doors open, revealing the possibilities of the evening ahead. He nodded cordially toward an approaching couple. The woman’s sapphire blue gown had a form-fitting bodice. Brilliant crystals crusted the slinky material and dripped down the back to the fluted hem.

Her beau touched the twinkling beads at her waist and eased his hand down to slip his fingers inside the gap between the bustier and skirt and caress her ass.

The doors closed behind them. Anna stifled a groan. Her inner beast growled with the impatient urge to have parts of her own body caressed in secret.

Not now! I’m in control. If the time comes when I think it’s all right to let the predator free, then and only then, will I give in and relinquish control.

“Name?” A smooth female voice interrupted her internal struggle.

Anna turned toward the registration table set up outside the Hilton Hotel Ballroom.

Heat flooded her face. This place, this ball, was about as far away from where she came from as she could get. She purposefully avoided these kinds of situations, went out of her way to make sure no one would find out what she was. But she had a burning desire to see where the mystery would lead, to see who her secret man was.

Oh, God, if you can hear me, let him be who I want him to be. Either way, whoever he is, he will be in for one unbelievably unexpected surprise!

Anna dug her invitation from her purse and dropped it on the table for the carefully coiffured blonde. Her heart slammed against her chest with ragged intensity. Surely this woman would see right through her artfully applied make-up, the thin veneer of propriety, and see her for what she was?

The hostess scanned the elaborate inscription on the parchment. A brief smile flickered at the corner of her mouth. She tossed the stiff sheaf of paper into a basket beside a mug draped with confetti-colored ribbons. Inside the mug, Anna noticed several pens as well as several straws. She couldn’t help but wonder what the woman was doing with straws at this desk, curious if she was secretly drinking on the job to have accumulated such a collection.

The hostess searched for Anna’s name on a list in front of her then marked it off with a pink highlighter.

She swiveled to her right, located what she needed, turned back to Anna and nodded. She handed over a pink ribbon pin with a pink sapphire embedded in it. Anna admired the stylish jewelry and pinned it to her dress, but before she could remark how beautiful it was the hostess handed her a black velvet mask with black sequins around the edges.

“Your partner is wearing the same mask,” she said, checking her over. “He’s already in the ballroom.”

The memento was forgotten as curiosity got the better of her. “Um, excuse me. Could you tell me who my partner is?” Anna tried to sound as though the question was perfectly ordinary.

The request must have been strange, because the distracted expression on the other woman’s face changed to one of attention. “What is your name again?”

Anna ignored the fact she hadn’t spoken her name in the first place. “Anna Le Boutillier. I found the note in my letterbox but I don’t know who invited me. Can you tell me who I’m meeting?”

Anna contemplated leaning across the desk to tear the registration book out of the receptionist’s infuriatingly slow moving hands. Visions of security throwing her out of the building gave her pause. Instead, she tried to give her most endearing smile as she fisted her hands. She had to find out who her secret admirer was.

The doors to the ballroom swung open and hit the wall behind Anna with a loud boom. She jumped and whirled around. An older couple, who could barely keep their hands off one another, came through. Their laughter stopped when they noticed everyone staring at them, but then they just shrugged and rushed out of the lobby.

“And another couple bites the dust.”

Anna looked at the hostess. “Pardon?”

“Nothing dear, just a whole lot of loving going on at this event tonight. Now Anna Le Boutillier…” She turned her attention back to the list.

After what seemed like an eternity the sculpted finger nail came to rest on a name. The blonde’s eyes lit up and her mouth turned into a giant Cheshire cat smile. “Oh, but I’d definitely take my chances on this one,” she muttered.

Anna opened and clenched her hands back into fists. “Really?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Boutillier, but we’ve been specifically asked not to let out that information.” She leaned over the table and whispered conspiratorially, “I will tell you, you won’t be sorry you came.” She winked, gathered her composure and sat down.


Excerpt from By Remote Chance by Taylor Voltaire

Chapter One

Two minutes. Perfect.

Elaine gathered her portfolio then maneuvered her way around her desk with the confidence of a woman sure to win the most coveted account of the year. Only two more minutes and she would achieve the honor of being the youngest partner at Jones Anderson Designs.

And if not… Well, she didn’t dare to think about “if not”.

Determination to shake hands with the most important client of her life was no match for the obstacle course of sample books, jagged stacks of floor tiles and her office palm tree—she snagged her stockings. “Damn,” Elaine whispered then slapped her portfolio on her desk.

One and half minutes. Ninety seconds!

Her office door was barely ajar. Shimmying out of stockings before anyone noticed would be a cinch, right? She slipped off her knock-off Ferragamo pumps.

A soft tap on her door surprised her. “Um, just a—”

Thomas Bradman poked his head inside. “They’re…”

That’s what you deserve for not shutting the door, Einstein! Elaine continued yanking one stocking down her leg.

Thomas’ Adam’s apple bobbed. “Ready and apparently you’re not.” He stepped into her office then shut the door behind him. “Sorry.”

“Though clearly, not enough to have the decency to leave.” Four years ago, nothing would have made Elaine happier than to have him standing at her threshold, watching her undress. What’s the saying…times change, people don’t?

For the last month she’d done her best to avoid him. Shocked couldn’t begin to describe how she’d felt when the vice president introduced him around the office. Recognition slammed into her and dragged her down like the wave that had almost drowned her the summer they’d first met—the summer she’d fallen in love. His sun drenched skin and broad shoulders attracted both straight and gay, then and now.

His “life of the party”, contagious Australian accent always did her in. She’d caught his virus once, and prayed that’s all it took to become immune…sort of like chicken pox. He’d broken her heart that summer and she’d be damned if he took her for a fool again. “Okay. I’ll be there in one minute.”

“I didn’t think I’d live to see the day you’d keep a client waiting.”

“I didn’t think I’d live to see the day you saw me undressing…again.” She tugged off the other stocking, ignoring his sexy chuckle and smile as he watched her every move. “I guess that makes us even.”

God, she could almost feel his gaze caress her thigh. The way his surfer’s body leaned against the wall, carelessly sexy, was enough to make her almost need resuscitation again. He’d had his opportunity. Was it her fault he blew it? No. They were young, naive and lived worlds apart. The chances of them ever seeing each other were remote, at best. Or so she’d thought!

“Okay, now I’m ready and oh, looky here.” She pointed at her watch. “Fifty seconds to go.” The last thing she wanted was to let on how he affected her or how important this opportunity was.

Unlike her, Thomas never took anything seriously. Life for him just…happened. Fate had French-kissed him and only offered her a peck on the cheek. But this project seemed different, like he really needed it. She’d never seen him work so diligently. The decision between her design and his would be hard for the client to make.

Surprisingly, Thomas had been a formidable opponent. He and Elaine were equals, on the cutting edge of great designs. He wanted this job and everyone knew it.

But Elaine needed the opportunity, too. Being a project manager at only twenty-five, when the average age of most students for interior design was thirty-two, she’d always felt she had something to prove. She wanted the good life and if busting her ass was the way to get there, then so be it. Her first multimillion-dollar account would be sweet and she went for it. No one could get in her way…no matter how sexy or… experienced they were.

When she’d worked late, he had as well. When she’d arrived early to the office, he’d already been there. The pace of late nights and early mornings coupled with the stress of the competition had been maddening! Neck and neck had been too close for comfort.

“Fifty seconds?” He shoved off the wall and walked to her desk. “Lanie, are you really that scheduled?” He leaned against her desk with casual confidence, blocking her portfolio.

She reached around him. “I haven’t ever had the luxury of being fed with a silver spoon, so, yes, I am. And for the umpteenth time, it’s Elaine now. I haven’t been Lanie, since…well, for a long time.” Forty seconds.

He blocked her move.

“Do you mind?” Her patience waned. “Some of us take life seriously. This happens to be important to me.”

“As it is to me, but seconds shouldn’t make or break a deal.” He grasped the handle of her portfolio behind him and brought it to his side. His smile, although amusing, grated on her nerves.

“Staying on schedule—” She reached for her case but he snatched it away. “Is one way I assure I’m the one running my life instead of it running me.” Her second attempt came up empty as well. If the twinkle in his eyes wasn’t so sexy, she’d want to deck him right then and there.

“You can’t stand not to be the one giving orders can you?” His soft voice and lilting accent almost made him sound endearing.

“There is nothing wrong with taking control of your life. Now please, hand me my portfolio so we can get to the meeting on time.”

“It won’t make a difference if you’re one minute early, or a minute late. I mean, it’s the design that matters and well, this time, I do believe I’ve got you beat.” He held the case out to her.

The design firm they worked for had asked her and Thomas to each submit plans for a multi-million dollar account. Each of them were being considered for partner, and this was their chance to prove what they were made of—an interview of sorts.

Was she hearing him right? He had the audacity to come into her office and start talkin’ smack, seconds before the biggest meeting of their careers? Pfft! “I don’t think so, mate.” Hoping her mocking accent grated on his nerves, she smiled and snatched back her portfolio.

“Wanna wager then?” he said playfully.

She laughed. “A bet?” Her mind raced. What could they possibly wager?

“Yeah, if you get this account, you can have all the control you want. But, if I win…” An archangel couldn’t have matched Thomas’s smile. “I take charge.”

Control would be easy to assume as a partner. This was a sucker’s bet. But would it hurt to humor him? Her hand was sure and steady as she extended it. “It’s a bet.”

“Great.” Old memories rattled Thomas’ brain and his cock sprang to attention at the firm grasp of Lanie’s hand. Would she hold his cock that way again? He would have to wait and see, wouldn’t he? The wager could make all the difference. “Shall we, then?” He led her out of the office and walked just behind her down the wide hallway to the conference room.

Luck didn’t always fall in his favor. In fact, he was used to hard luck. After his ailing grandmother had found him on a list of orphans and people who had been adopted looking for birth families, he’d moved to America. Australia was his home, but to finally have family meant he would do anything to be with them. Not only had he moved to embark on a new future, but to connect to a piece of his past. His family needed him and he needed to make a new start. Finding Lanie was a coincidence fate rarely bestowed on him. Relationships weren’t something he’d ever had the comfort of affording. Cheap drinks with fast women were all he had ever been able to handle. Anything more would have been too much.

He breathed in her citrus-scented shampoo. Regretting what he couldn’t have was a waste of time, making the best of what he did have was…life.

Lanie cleared her throat. “May the best man win” She reached for the conference room door handle.

Before he could answer, she pushed through with the authority of a senior partner.

Excerpts from Fiona Jayde and Sheri Livingston coming soon...

Please remember that 100% of net proceeds will go directly to breastcancer.org

Todays drink:

In honor of Cyan...who I actually named Thomas after...lol

Beer! Sometimes in life, it's the simple things that make it great!


Monday, October 1, 2007

Behind The Masque Anthology

Behind the Masque is NOW FOR SALE at Cobblestone Press! 100% of net profits go to breastcancer.org! Please support the efforts to fight breast cancer. My heartfelt thanks and gratitude to Cobblestone Press for taking this project and to breastcancer.org for taking our donations!
Amethyst Moon by Fiona Jayde
Two jewel thieves caught in a web of lust and gypsy magic must find a way to trust their hearts.

Once Bitten... by Cyan Bell
Anna Le Boutillier hides a secret. Derik Harrison conceals mysteries of his own. One ball will reveal their passion. One bite will release them both.

By Remote Chance by Taylor Voltaire
You know what happens when you assume, but Elaine and Thomas have much to learn. Perception isn’t always reality…especially when life’s lived behind a masque.

Vapor By Sheri Livingston
Tainted love and payback in a black satin tux? Ashley deserves nothing less, according to Vic, the unwilling star of her latest erotic best seller.
Content: Erotic Romance This title contains explicit language, bondage, and graphic sex Genre:Paranormal, Shifter, Bondage, Ménage, Gay & Lesbian
Todays Drinks:
Tequila Rose shot. It's a shot, it's tequila, it's pink. It's perfect!

Behind The Masque part 2

Behind the Masque is NOW FOR SALE at Cobblestone Press! 100% of net profits go to breastcancer.org! Please support the efforts to fight breast cancer. My heartfelt thanks and gratitude to Cobblestone Press for taking this project and to breastcancer.org for taking our donations!
Amethyst Moon by Fiona Jayde
Two jewel thieves caught in a web of lust and gypsy magic must find a way to trust their hearts.

Once Bitten... by Cyan Bell
Anna Le Boutillier hides a secret. Derik Harrison conceals mysteries of his own. One ball will reveal their passion. One bite will release them both.

By Remote Chance by Taylor Voltaire
You know what happens when you assume, but Elaine and Thomas have much to learn. Perception isn’t always reality…especially when life’s lived behind a masque.

Vapor By Sheri Livingston
Tainted love and payback in a black satin tux? Ashley deserves nothing less, according to Vic, the unwilling star of her latest erotic best seller.
Content: Erotic Romance This title contains explicit language, bondage, and graphic sex Genre:Paranormal, Shifter, Bondage, Ménage, Gay & Lesbian
Todays Drinks:
Tequila Rose shot. It's a shot, it's tequila, it's pink. It's perfect!

Monday, September 3, 2007

Behind the Masque

What a difference a year can make!

I just signed a contract with Cobblestone Press for an anthology called Behind the Masque to benefit The Breast Cancer Foundation. I’ve been working on By Remote Chance, my contribution, for months now with 3 other authors. We (Fiona Jayde, Cyan Bell, Sheri Livingston and Me!) have all been contracted! Now if this isn’t exciting enough, just wait….
Cobblestone Press is also donating their net profits to The Breast Cancer Foundation! This means that 90% of the proceeds will be going directly to breast cancer research!
Oh. My. Gosh! I couldn’t have dreamed of more!

It was just last October I had to admit getting a rejection, and now, this October I will be celebrating a release to benefit breast cancer research. I am so excited!

Blurbs and excerpts will follow soon. Stayed tuned!!!

Today’s Drink: The Pink Drink…of course

1/2 oz Galliano
1/2 oz Vodka
1/2 oz Cointreau
1 oz Grenadine
1 oz Milk
Whipped cream

Pour Vodka, Galliano, Cointreau, Grenadine and Milk into a cocktail shaker. Shake then pour into a cocktail glass and finish off with a dollop of whipped cream on top.

Mmmm this is an adult’s milkshake!

Taylor Voltaire

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Janine's Hope gets 4 swords!!!!

This is what Frost has to say...

Janine's Hope is a heartwarming tale of second chances and of the potentials available when we open the eyes of our hearts. Hope's mother disappeared when Hope was only seven, and raised by a strict father who loved her accomplishments, Hope has always believed it was a question of her mother's abandonment. Summoned from Manhattan to Arizona by the news of her mother's unexpected death, Hope discovers she has inherited a tavern, a small home, and a town full of folks who loved her mother to distraction.

Hope tries valiantly to maintain her cynicism in the face of the town's unanimous regard of her late mother, but she finds life chipping away at her reserve as she falls in lust and more with a gorgeous hunky hero who insists on demonstrating his tender side. Even as she learns the truth, she refuses to believe it, despite the enormous evidence stacking up. But eventually, Hope learns to open her heart's eyes and see what's before her and what her future can hold.

Taylor Voltaire's first novel outing proves to be an enchanting, romantic tale of family entanglements, lies, secrets, and hidden truths. Readers will find themselves crying, loving, lusting, and laughing right along with Hope, and wishing for a small-town atmosphere and folks as emotionally deep as the townspeople Hope encounters.

To see this review and more by Frost visit this link...


Friday, August 3, 2007

Dog days of summer

Has anyone else been wondering what has happened to the dog days of summer? After asking that, I wonder, does anyone know how this phrase even came to be? Now, because I have asked, I have to go see. Be right back….

Okay, here is what I have found: Dog days of summer is an actual time period! July3 – August 11, or more loosely, July – September. It has to do with the largest star in Canis major, Sirius, the “dog star” rising and setting with the sun. Ancient Romans believed the bright light from this star created the heat of summer days.

Another general definition would be a period of stagnation or inactivity.

I wonder how many of us really “suffer” from too many days with nothing to do. Surely like the rest of you, my summer has been too busy, gone by too fast, with too few days of nothingness. I hate to be a complainer, but good grief!

When did life become like this? DH and I have been meaning to discuss an issue for a year now. LOL yes at least one year! (The family budget, and really, who wants to do that?) He brought it up the other day, and I said, okay, you get your palm pilot, and I’ll get mine, and we’ll set a date to discuss it. He asked what I was doing that evening. I admitted I had nothing planned. So…we had our budget meeting. Damn. See? Again, another lost opportunity to do nothing. Lol If it wasn’t that though, it would have been something else that crept up. Life is like that now. I have 9 days until school starts. I have nice days left to try to squeeze in nothing. I don’t have a dog’s chance.

Today’s drink: R&R
1 shot of tequila. (really it’s supposed to me Rumple Minze…but, peppermint and beer? blech!)
1 bottle of Red Dog Beer

Swallow the shot then drink the beer!