Monthly Archives: May 2012

Season of Misery

Today I’m over at CR Moss’s blog. I hope to see some of you there!

My mind is whirling with different themes this morning. I had a rant prepared about the younger generation and their determination to backtrack on the feminist movement. Then I thought about ranting about television shows.

Then I realized I don’t want to rant today. It’s disgustingly humid in south Louisiana this morning and I just can’t be bothered to get worked up about anything. That’s the reason why people down here seem so laid back. It has nothing to do with personality and everything to do with it’s too damn hot to move.

It’s probably why I don’t write as much during the summer as I do during the “winter”. Not like we have a real winter anyway, but when it’s cooler outside, I feel happy and energized. The minute the summer approaches though, my brain wants to go into hibernation. I’m pretty sure not everyone down here is that way. Some people actually lust for summer. I consider them freaks. Sorry y’all, but 110 degree days are nothing to be happy about.

I mean, if you really think about it, the worst parts of being in south Louisiana happen because of the summer. Mosquitos (meh, blood suckers), hurricanes (I hate evacuating), heat stroke (cause you know it happens at least once a year), and sometimes drought. What’s to like about that? *sniff*

Right now we’re only looking at the upper 80s in the way of highs, but it’s climbing which means I’m going to be one miserable woman. In other words, don’t expect too much of me from the end of May until at least September, maybe October.

But don’t worry, my friends, I’m sure I’ll revisit this topic in the middle of July when we’re just starting to bake.

What’s your favorite time of year? Or least favorite?

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Edits and Writer’s Block

Before I get to the meat of today’s post, I’m over at two blogs with a giveaway today. To win a copy of Immortal Love, head on over to Emma Shortt’s blog. To win a copy of Immortal Love and a $10 Amazon gift card, head on over to Lila Shaw’s blog.

Now onto the post. I worked on edits for my upcoming June release, You Bet Your Banshee. Obviously it’s about a banshee and it’s one of the first stories I’ve ever written in first person. Okay, I had a lot of fun with this book. There’s a different tone to the story when it’s told from the main character’s inner mind that I found amusing.

I was scared to death that I’d be asked to change the POV completely to third. I would have done it, but it would have ruined the flow, I think. Luckily, that wasn’t a problem. No, the only major thing they wanted me to do was add another love scene.

Now if you’ve read my books, you’re probably aware that I generally pack my stories with lots of love scenes. At least it’s a lot to my mind. When I saw that listed as a serious matter to take into consideration, I was a bit flabbergasted, but hey…I could totally do that.

On Saturday, I pulled out the laptop, made myself comfortable…and stewed. Seriously, y’all, I stared at that screen like it was a monster because I couldn’t see where to put the scene. I puttered around all day, trying to place it here, or trying to write it there and nothing worked. Finally, at about seven-thirty that night, I sat down and actually reread the manuscript. That’s when I realized this story was pretty damn good. It made me chuckle and I was filled with a sense of stunned amazement that I wrote it. I finally found the perfect spot for the love scene and pounded it out (pun intended bwahaha) in less than an hour.

My edits were finished and sent to the editor for review. Yay!

Yesterday I was ready to work on a project for Ellora’s Cave. I have to write this story. It’s been bugging me since I finished Primal Song, yet everything I wrote, I hated. The heroine didn’t have enough sass. The opening scene was crappy. I must have gone through about four different versions of the opening scene before I realized I was beating a dead horse.

The story wasn’t ready to come to me. This epiphany happened at around nine-thirty last night. I went to bed thinking about the characters and how the story needed to open. And woke up slightly more positive about it.

As much as I hate to do it, Primal Design needs a prologue. Yes, you heard me, a prologue! Hopefully I’ll get to start writing it today. I pray the writer’s block was just a temporary side-effect of the edits from the day before. I have stories to write and I don’t have time for stupid writer’s blocks.

What do you do when you have writer’s block?

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Fantasy Man Friday Guest Blogger Doris O’Connor

Warning, warning warning, I have a super hot guest blogger today in the form of Doris O’Connor. She’s giving away a copy of her release, Too Cold To Love, but I warn you, the excerpt is extra hot so watch your eyes!

Hello everyone

Danica has kindly allowed me to take over her blog today for Fantasy Man Friday. So in keeping with the theme I thought I would share my inspiration for the Giovanni Cousins, the very yummy Joe Manganiello.

 

I know he has far too many clothes on, lol, but that pic worked so well for the following scene. When my heroine Elise first spots him, she interrupts a workout.

********
 Before she could bend down to retrieve the contents the front door opened, and Elise forgot to breathe. The man stood glowering down on her had to be at least six foot two of hard muscle, perfectly showcased in vest top and low slung joggers. She’d interrupted a workout if the fine sheen of perspiration on his face was anything to by. Ice cold blue eyes, framed by heavy lashes, sat in a proud, patrician face, covered in a day’s worth of stubble. He raised his hand to push his slightly too long, black hair away from his face, and the musk of hot, sweaty male, mixed with the faint scent of his cologne invaded Elise’s senses. Her fingers itched to touch the impossibly broad shoulders, and she hastily dropped her eyes and balled her hands into fists to resist giving in to the impulse. This was Marco Giovanni?

****
Marco is rather exasperated with his flighty nanny, and can’t quite figure out why he is suddenly attracted to her. I think we can all see why Elise is attracted to him.

Of course the path of true love does not go smoothly for those two, far from it. Well, blackmail is not the best basis for a marriage really, even if Marco has good reasons for it.

Why does Elise agree to it? She has to protect her twin sister and the chemistry she shares with the man himself makes the whole process somewhat easier.

 See what I mean?

*winks* 

Blurb:

Marco Giovanni has shut off his emotions, following a messy divorce. His small daughter and his chain of bakeries are all he needs in his life. The string of nannies are an unfortunate necessity he could well do without. So why does his body have to remember its needs now with the latest and most unsuitable nanny ever?

Elise has always been the responsible one, so when she receives yet another SOS phone call from her wayward twin, she does the only thing she can do, she steps into her shoes. Having to go back to nannying is hard enough, the unexpected attraction to her arrogant employer impossible to deal with. Especially when she is forced to agree to a marriage of his convenience to pay off the debt her twin accrued.

In a marriage based on blackmail can passion turn into love, or will secrets and lies destroy all?

Warning, hot, steamy excerpt to follow!

Excerpt:

Marco’s knowing gaze met hers in the bathroom mirror, and the heat she saw in his eyes started a slow answering fire deep within her. Awareness sparked between them.

The towel slowly slipped from her fingers. The ice hit the tiled floor with a thud and broke the spell. She almost ran into the other room and frantically tried the other door.

“I have it on good authority that they are fire doors, my lovely, so I’d give up now. I like your shoulders just the way they are, cara mia.”

Marco leant against the door frame propped up by his good shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest, a slow smile on his lips. He checked the lock on the bathroom door.

“And I’m pleased to note there isn’t a lock on here, lest you decide to go hiding in another bathroom. I seem to recall you were rather fond of that on our honeymoon.”

Elise winced, followed by a vivid blush as she remembered their wedding night.

Marco simply smiled. He slowly advanced towards her, and Elise backed away until she bumped into the wall. He reminded her of a predator stalking his prey.

“Marco, we need to talk.”

One last long stride brought him so close his thighs touched hers, and he put one hand either side of her head.  His big body crowded her against the wall, and his sinful mouth hovered over hers.

“So talk, cara mia. I’m all yours.”

His hot breath fanned across her face, and Elise closed her eyes. She bit back a moan when he kissed her nose and rained butterfly kisses along her jaw line. He suckled gently on just the right spot on her neck to make her knees turn to jelly.

“Marco…please…stop…”

Somehow she found the strength to put her shaking hands on his chest, only to meet hot, hard, male flesh. This time she couldn’t stop the very feminine moan escaping. Was that needy sound really her?

Apparently so, judging by Marco’s low groan in her ear. He moved his hand to cup her breast, the nipple thrusting shamelessly into his caress.

“You don’t sound as though you want me to stop, cara mia. In fact, I would hazard a guess that you’re wet enough for me to fuck you right here.”

The crude words should have shocked Elise, but instead she whimpered in response to his words. He ground his hips suggestively into hers until the full force of his erection rested against her pussy. Heat flooded between her thighs, and she pulled his head down for kiss.

“You’re talking too much, Tarzan.”

She caught a quick glimpse of triumph in his glittering eyes before his mouth claimed hers. His tongue tangled with hers, and they both groaned. One of his hands fisted in her hair, and the other lifted her skirt. He cupped her mound and murmured his approval.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.”

He bunched the sodden material of her underwear in his hand and pulled. The move brought delicious pressure to her clit, and Elise panted in excitement. Cool air hit her slick folds when the material gave way with an audible rip. His large hand replaced the fabric, and her pussy clamped down on the fingers he thrust into her channel. His teeth nipped her neck, nudging her arousal up another notch, and he kicked her feet apart to spread her wider. She clung to his shoulders, rubbing her breasts against his chest, and he swore. He thrust two more fingers into her hungry cunt, and she lifted her leg to give him better access. He withdrew his fingers, and Elise tensed when he inserted one slick digit into her anus.

“Relax, pasticcino.”

His eyes sought hers, and he smiled. He kissed her, and Elise relaxed into the strange sensation. When he inserted another finger into her tight hole, she gasped into his mouth. He thrust slowly in and out of her, and Elise pulled him closer to her still, as her hips moved of their own accord. Unused nerve endings sprang to life, and darts of pleasure skittered to her clitoris. Her breath came in short gaps, as her arousal built.

“That’s my girl. I knew you’d like this.” Marco’s strained voice in her ear was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. She pushed down on his fingers, seeking more, and moaned her disappointment when he withdrew them slowly. He grabbed her buttocks and ground her aching clit into his still covered cock. He thrust into her, and the friction on her throbbing bud proved too much for Elise.

“Please, Marco.”

“What, cara mia?”

Marco pulled away, and she groaned.

“What do you want, my wife?”

The heat in his ever darkening gaze stoked her arousal to fever pitch, and she impatiently tugged at his trousers.

“I want you in me, now, Marco.”

His eyes darkened further at her whispered plea, and she breathed a sigh of relief when his hands helped her free his cock. It sprung out of its confines up to his taut stomach, and Elise licked her lips in anticipation. She cupped his balls, and it was Marco’s turn to groan.

“Jesus, woman, you’re killing me.”

He pushed her hands away, and Elise arched into his palms, when he pulled down her tank top and exposed her breasts. He kneaded each aching globe, before he pushed them together and laved the nipples in turn. Every suckle sent shards of pure pleasure down towards Elise’s clit where delicious anticipation built in waves. She moaned her protest when Marco released the glistening buds and kissed his way back up to her collarbone. She could feel his strained smile before she saw it.

“Wrap your legs around me. I need to get inside you right now.”

*****

Find me on the Web here

Website: http://www.dorisoconnor.com/

Blog: http://thetardisscribbles.blogspot.co.uk/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/mamaD8

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Doris-OConnor-Romance-Author/241366635885432

Thanks again for letting me gate crash Danica, and if you’d like to check Marco out for free, please leave a comment. I will be giving away one copy of Too Cold To Love to a random commenter.

If you want your copy of Too Cold to Love right now, you can find it at the following locations:

Evernight: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/too-cold-to-love-by-doris-oconnor/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Cold-Love-Giovanni-Clan-ebook/dp/B00816GM34/ref=sr_1_11?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1336419189&sr=1-11

Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/too-cold-to-love

Allromance Ebooks: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-toocoldtolove-789180-149.html 

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Cajun French: Gourmand

This week I have a word I picked up from my sister-in-law. I’m actually wondering if they’re going to use it on Swamp People since those guys seem to want to be like me. You know, because they used tete dur way after I posted about it. And I’m totally joking, y’all. These are words you may hear frequently down here.

So this week’s word is gourmand (yes you may have seen this word before, but the pronunciation is little different) which is prounounced “goo-mon” (soft n) with that goo drawn out a little. Gourmand can be used as noun or an adjective.

As a noun, it means a “greedy eater”. If you think about it, it kind of makes sense. We’ve all heard the word “gourmond” used when we talk about someone who takes pleasure in their food. The only difference I can think of is the pronunciation. I’ve always heard the Americanized gourmond as pronounced “gore-mond” or something like that.

When gourmond is used as an adjective, it means gluttonous.

So tell me, are any of you gourmond?

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Watch Out Moms

It’s Mother’s Day this month and I’m playing songs with Mom, Mama, or Mother in the title. I say in the title because some of these songs aren’t exactly about how sweet mom is or how much the artist loves mom or whatever.

Like today’s song. I remember when this song came out. Well, the retitled version which came out in 1993, 1994 which would’ve been my senior year of high school. OMG, that was so long ago! Anyway, it was a kick ass song. I think most teenagers probably thought it was because who isn’t raging against their parents at 16, 17 years old? *polishes her halo* Except for me of course.

Anyway, today’s song is “Mother” by Danzig.

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Filed under What's Playing Wednesdays

Ah Youth

Last night we had a surprise visit from one of my younger cousins. Poor child. I suppose she’s so bored she doesn’t mind visiting her not-so-exciting-and-fun older cousin and aunt, but it’s always nice to see her.

I really think she was just too excited to go home and go to sleep. You see today’s her last day of high school. She graduates next week and she’s been counting the days for at least a year. I kept trying to tell her to enjoy it while she could because once high school is over the real world comes creeping in. She so doesn’t get that part.

Maybe it’s a combination of listening to the 90s rock channel on my satellite radio, or maybe it’s visits from the kids whose diapers I used to change, but I feel old now. I had just graduated from high school when she was born. I was free as a bird until college started and I couldn’t wait. When I look at her, all I can think was “God, I was the dumbest kid on Earth”.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? We spend all of our youth wanting to be older and all of our adult years wanting to be younger. I don’t think I’d want to go back to high school (I can’t blame my cousin there), but college would be fun. Especially now that they have all these cool things like Humans vs. Zombies (or is it Zombies vs. Humans?) and online classes and things like that. I was lucky that we had bubble sheets to take tests.

But I try not to wax poetic about those days. I don’t want to be the person who tells my nephews and cousins “When I was your age…” or “When I was in college we had to actually write things longhand…” Heh. Sorry, I’m snorting. Ahem.

My cousin has every right to enjoy her freedom from the public school system. I know it isn’t What’s Playing Wednesday, but there’s only one way to express the true excitement she must be feeling right now and that’s through song…

 Of course she’s much too young to probably know who Alice Cooper is, or know why it was considered okay for him to be on what was supposed to be a children’s program, but I couldn’t resist. Alice Cooper and The Muppets? You can’t lose!

Congrats to all those young graduates…if any of you read my blog.

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The T-Shirt Addiction

I’m over at the Sultry Scribe today with an interview. Stop by for a visit!

Meanwhile, I’m trying to be upbeat. I really don’t like Mondays. Last night I stared into space wondering where the weekend went and trying to figure out how it got away from me so quickly.

But I’m not going to talk about depressing things like work weeks. No, I’d rather talk about my addiction. You all know how addicted to books I am. It’s gotten so bad that I have to physically force myself not to buy more because my checkbook can’t take it. But I probably haven’t mentioned my T-shirt addiction.

It is an addiction. I can promise you that nearly any time I go somewhere, I’m buying a T-shirt there. Why? Because it’s what I like to wear. I’m lucky that I’m able to wear casual clothes to work, but I don’t think my coworkers would approve of some of my shirts.

I have T-shirts from bars and pubs. T-shirts about games and books. Band/concert T-shirts. College T-shirts (my alma mater and my nephew’s college), place-name T-shirts, work place T-shirts. I even have Far Side T-shirts that I can’t bring myself to get rid of. They have holes, stains, and rips, but they stay in my dresser because I might wear them to go fishing or something.

I mention this because while we were in Ruston visiting my nephew, I bought two T-shirts with his college name on them. Two. On top of the one I’d already purchased several months ago. I can’t seem to help myself. When I was at Nationals in NYC, I bought two T-shirts. When I was in New Orleans for the FF&P conference, I bought a sweat shirt (in my defense, it was abnormally chilly that weekend). I have no doubt when I go to Ohio in October, I’ll be buying another T-shirt…maybe more if they have any to buy at the Football Hall of Fame Museum.

What’s your secret addiction?

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Fantasy Man Friday

It’s Friday. Woot-woot!

Man, what a week! Immortal Love released and moved up into the 12th spot on Bookstrand (Fairy Tales/Myths category) as of yesterday, I’ve been guest blogging all over the place, and I’m over at Pimp My Book today. Oh, and I signed a contract with Ellora’s Friggin’ Cave! (That’s not their real name, by the way, but I suddenly feel like that activist speaker in Forrest Gump and his “Viet-#$*%#’-nam!”)

Ahem. Sorry, got off track there.j

Anyway, to celebrate all this wonderful news, I had to find a very sexy man to share with y’all. You can’t have him ’cause he’s mine, but I’ll allow y’all to ogle him. Just remember he’s coming home with me.

There are so many inappropriate things I could say about balls, but I’m trying to be good.

Oh what the hell, y’all know I’m not good. Is it just me, or does he look like he’s almost daring me to pull that towel away from him? I swear he is. Just whip that towel off and leave him in nothing but socks and his cleats. Which for some reason, sounds strangely appealing…hm, story idea? I think so!

Happy Friday, y’all. I hope y’all have a safe and fun weekend!

 

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Really Big News

It seems like I’ve been posting a lot of announcements lately, but things have been going well, so I’m definitely not going to complain about it!

First off, I believe there’s still time to win a copy of my book at Avery’s blog plus I’m giving away another copy of Immortal Love and a $10 Amazon GC over at Avril’s blog so stop by and comment to be entered!

*deep breath*

Now for the news. I’ve been holding onto this for a week. Two months ago, I attended the Silken Sands Conference in Pensacola. The first evening of the conference, I met an editor I accidentally pitched my latest book to. I swear it was an accident. We were talking about some of the authors she works with, about how great their books are, and things just sort of snowballed into a pitch from there.

Last week, while I was sitting on my sofa watching Duck Dynasty, I got an email from Grace Bradley. She wanted my book. I sat there staring at my phone in disbelief for about five minutes. I sent off a reply. I have no idea if it was coherent or not because my hands were shaking so much. I put down the phone and screamed. I told my mom. I was so excited, I ran to my brother’s house (it’s only next door) and burst in, not caring that I was in my pjs, to share the news with them.

Primal Song, my rock star shapeshifting story, is going to be published with none other than Ellora’s Cave! Okay, I might have said, “I’m going to be published with Ellora’s friggin’ Cave! OMG, OMG!” My six month old nephew stared at me like I was crazy, but even he smiled. Eventually. After I scared him by squealing.

Ellora’s Cave is one of those publishing houses that I’ve always wanted to work with. I enjoy their books and they have some really fantastic authors. Oh, and did I mention they have their own conference with beautiful men? Oh yeah. Sorry Seattle, I’m going to skip you this year because I have to go to Canton, OH. And it isn’t just for the conference. I have three words for you: Football Hall of Fame (articles don’t count as words).

ZOMG. It’s been a week and I’m still a little freaked out about this. I mean…when I started this writing journey, I had hopes that things would go well, but now that it’s actually happening it doesn’t seem real.

So there it is. My latest news and I got to share it with y’all…fourth, or maybe fifth. *frown* I had to tell my sister, my aunt and uncles, my cousin…okay, so y’all are like tenth on the list, but I still thought about y’all! *big, smothering hugs*

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For the Moms

Today I’m over at Avery Flynn’s blog with another giveaway of Immortal Love (Olympus, Inc.) and Avril Ashton’s blog with a book and gift card giveaway! This has been an exciting release week for me and it’s only the third day! My fellow authors are awesome people. I can’t seem to thank them enough for helping me promote my newest release. Love you guys!

Mother’s Day is this month and I’ve decided to put a mom twist on What’s Playing Wednesdays. Next month isn’t going to be about dads though, sorry to disappoint!

There are a lot of songs about moms, some of them are funny, some are dark, some are sweet. I’m going to try to hit a little of those three starting with today’s offering by Three Dog Night. Yeah, if you’re a fan of classic rock, you know what song I’m talking about. “Mama Told Me Not To Come” is probably the classic “I should’ve listened to my mom” song.

Isn’t that the way it goes though? Your mom tells you things and you ignore her advice, then you’re stuck in a situation you really wished you weren’t.

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