Lisa G. Riley's Blog, page 8

Calm before the storm

  

I took my run this morning in sixty-six degree weather. It’s NOVEMBER IN CHICAGO, which is awesome! I loved the view and the feel so much, that I just had to take pictures. Though the atmosphere looks cold and gloomy in the photos, it so wasn’t when I was out there. This is just the calm before the huge storm, according to this morning’s weather report so I thought I’d better take advantage. Creative juices were pumping like mad!

Have a good day!

Tagged: enjoyment, life, personal, random

Meet the Character

This here is Cesare Shahidi. She’s an assassin, a model, a linguist and an incurable lover of all things deadly. She’s also my next great character. Her first book, Assassin, will be out in the summer of next year, but I wanted to give you a preview of her now. Everyone, Cesare Shahidi:

Name: Cesare (Che-za-ray) Shahidi, alias, Essence Carter
Code Name: Paragon
Profession: Model turned assassin
Expertise: Killing them softly
Weapon of choice: Poison
Backup weapon of choice: Stiletto
Backup to the backup: Her body
Base of operations: Barcelona
Languages spoken: Arabic, English, Farsi, French, Spanish
Quote that best describes her: “Veni, vidi, vici”
First seen in: You are Mine (final story for At Last’s Caroline and Brian)
Other appearances: Assassin by Lisa G. Riley and The Lion in Russia by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

Description: She was what you got when a disillusioned former female member of the American Black Power Movement married and reproduced with an Iranian-American dissident who could trace his family’s roots all the way back to the Lasiqs of the Order of the Assassins: dangerous, fervently committed to the cause and sometimes crazy as hell.

Lunchtime Entertainment: Excerpts from New Release

Hi, all. The latest version of Give Yourself to Me (re-release of 2010 book with a whole BUNCH of new material) went live yesterday. I’m sharing two excerpts: one from the original version and one taken from the new material. I am really digging this book. I had such a good time writing it! Enjoy these excerpts on me. But first, the summary:

If Dr. Hollis Delacroix had known she’d be falling in love with a future vampire-murderer when she was seventeen, she…probably…still would’ve fallen in love. Hilliard had been irresistible then, and he was twice that now. She’d stood him up on prom night and fourteen years later, he’s finally found her, and boy has she got some explaining to do. But so does he. He never told her that he was a vampire. But worse than that is that he’s suspected of killing other vampires and the bodies are winding up in her morgue. Talk about having some explaining to do!

 Hilliard Ashley doesn’t go around biting people willy-nilly, and never in his life has he drank anyone’s blood without their permission. He’s just not that kind of vampire.  He’d explain all that to the woman he’s been in love with since they were seventeen if she’d just let him. He cannot believe that the girl he’d known as Rose is now the big shot New Orleans medical examiner named Hollis Delacroix. He’s thrilled to have found her, but she’s looking at him for the murders of four people. Okay, so maybe he DID kill two of them, but he has his reasons. All very good ones, too. She’d see that if she’d just stand still long enough for him to explain.

 He doesn’t care if her name is Hollis or Rose. Hill just wants her back, and he wants her back with such desperation that it’s almost enough to be embarrassing. He wants ALL of her, no holds barred. She’s his, he’s hers, and they both know it. They knew it when they were seventeen, and there’s no use pretending. Of course, just when Hill sees the light at the end of the tunnel and thinks he can breathe easy, an old pain-in-the-ass nemesis tracks him down and is determined to get his revenge through Hollis, which predictably sends her scurrying away again.

 Damn.

 Can a vampire (a pretty nice one, by the by) catch a break?

Excerpt One:

New Orleans

April 2009

He scented her before he saw her, and shocked to his core, he stiffened in recognition. It might have been fourteen long years since he’d detected her scent, but it was one he’d never forget. Like a wolf sensing its mate, Hilliard Ashley unerringly looked in the direction from which she came. Except for where he and the others were standing under the bright lights, it was pitch-dark, but he saw her at least a minute before anyone else did, or could have, even if they’d been paying attention. She wore black skinny jeans and a breast-hugging black T-shirt over her tall, thin frame, tying everything together at her waist with a wide black leather belt. Black kick-ass boots covered her feet.

Of course she still had that lazy, graceful walk that had always driven him mad with lust and made her look like she had no place special to be, and if she did, then it could wait. He narrowed his eyes. Everyone could wait, as far as she was concerned.

Two large dogs, one on either side, loped down the street with her. They too appeared to be in no hurry. When she was about a hundred feet from where he stood, Hill heard her give the dogs a soft command and watched as each dog obediently stopped and gazed adoringly after her as she kept walking. Finally she came into the light, and still she took her time.

“Here comes La Belle Dangereuse,” Hill heard one of the men next to him say in a thick Cajun accent, and fascinatingly, as one unit, everyone — the paramedics, the crime-scene techs, and even the damned police officers who were supposed to be watching him, their suspect — stopped what they were doing to turn to watch her approach. Hill refrained from shaking his head in disgust. She’d always had that effect on people.

“Not too fond of that dick of yours, are you, boy?” an older man asked the Cajun. “You’d better not let the good doctor hear you call her that, or you’ll find out just how well you can get along without it.”

Hill heard a deep, heartfelt sigh of longing come from the young technician next to him and had to agree with the sentiment, even as he hated himself for it.

Laughing heartily, someone slapped the sighing man on the back. “Don’t even think it. Dr. Hollis Delacroix isn’t even in your stratosphere, son.”

Hollis Delacroix? What the fuck? Hill thought. She really had wanted to get away from me.

“Jesus, just look at her,” a female paramedic about thirty feet from Hill said in a low voice. His sensitive ears picked up the words and the envy. “She looks gorgeous even at this time of night.”

“Yeah, how dare she,” the lone female cop said drily in reply. “On anyone else, what she has on would just look like an ordinary outfit, but on her, it’s a freaking ensemble. What a selfish bitch. Hey! Dangerous Beauty!” she yelled and emphasized the nickname. “When you’re done attracting helpless supplicants, you want to get your heavenly ass to work so we mortals can get out of here sometime tonight?”

Hill, who had listened to all the conversations going on around him but hadn’t taken his eyes off his target once, watched as a fond smile split the doctor’s face and she turned her head in the other woman’s direction.

“Bite me, bitch,” she said mildly, making the cop laugh.

“Not tonight, honey. I’ve got work to do. And besides, I wouldn’t want to make anyone jealous.”

Her lips twisted, and she obligingly flipped the cop the bird, but Hill could tell the doctor’s attention was focused on the dead body as she gave a general greeting to everyone and pulled on latex gloves. She hadn’t seen him yet, and Hill wondered what her reaction would be when she finally did notice him. He didn’t have long to wait. Her searching eyes eventually came to rest on him. One elegant arched brow was the only indication of her surprise.

“Well, Hilliard Ashley,” she drawled in that same husky voice that had seductively dogged his dreams as a seventeen-year-old and still did all these years later. But now, Hill just considered the act cruel. “What on earth are you doing at my murder scene?” she asked. And then that damned familiar crooked grin appeared on her face. “You my murderer, cher?”

Excerpt Two:

“I smell another man on you.”

That was not the response she’d been expecting, and Hollis whipped around to stare at him in surprise. His stance was filled with tension. “I beg your pardon.”

“I said, you smell of another man.”

The way he said it was possessive and almost accusatory. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and crossed her arms. “Just what are you implying?” she asked slowly through clenched teeth.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m simply stating a fact. You smell like a man’s cologne and his own unique scent, whoever he is. It isn’t your dad, because I remember what he smells like underneath that Old Spice he likes so much. Who have you been hugging?”

Hollis continued to stare at him for a moment. What the fuck? “How in the hell do you know that? Did you know I kissed him, too?” she challenged. Before she knew it, Hill was stalking her, walking with determination toward her until she was backing up in surprise. She soon found herself with her back against the wall with him staring down at her with anger in his gaze.

He put an arm above her head and leaned in and down to kiss her, his tongue a rampaging invader. There was no preparation, no wooing, and no coddling. His lips were on hers and his tongue was in her mouth, making a swath through it as if taking up ownership. His sudden possession made her squirm in surprise and delight, and her hands went to his chest just as she stood on her toes to assist in her own claiming.

Hollis sucked hungrily on his tongue, her body and mind remembering him and desperately wanting more. Helplessly, she fell into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as the familiar weakness for him invaded her body. He ended the kiss by pressing his lips lingeringly to hers, but coming back again and again for more, as if he couldn’t help himself. Hollis was back on her toes trying to capture his mouth in another deep kiss.

Hill tried to tame his inner beast that wanted to conquer and devour. He’d swear he saw red when she said she’d kissed someone else. He supposed his kiss was meant to wipe the other man from her mind. All he could think was, how dare he. This unknown man. And how could she? When she stood on her toes to receive him, he growled, feeling a sense of triumph and when she slumped weakly against him, he felt vindicated. “Who is he?” he whispered against her mouth as she tried to capture his mouth in another kiss.

“Hmm? What?”

He looked at her. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He watched in fascination as her pupils went from unfocused to focused, and with laser-like intensity. Suspicion entered her eyes and he winced, knowing he’d asked the wrong question.

“Fuck off,” she said in a soft, sweet tone that nonetheless brooked no dissension. “I’m not telling you.”

The book can be found at the following retailers:

amazon

Barnes and Noble

All Romance e-books

Smashwords

The last two retailers offer the book in multiple formats, so it isn’t necessary to own a kindle or a nook. Thanks for your attention!

Best,

Lisa

Tagged: bwwm, erotic romance, excerpts, GYTM, interracial paranormal, new release, the work, vampire

Halloween? We don’t Need No Stinkin’ Halloween…

to put out a book about a vampire! This is the possible cover for my book, Give Yourself to Me, my first book about a vampire. His name is Hilliard Ashley and he does two things really well: hunts down sick vampires for death or therapy and loves (absolutely adores) him some Hollis Delacroix. It’s a reissue of my 2010 book. I got my rights back, added a BUNCH of new stuff and this is the result. It will be dropping on Monday!

Thanks!

Later,

Lisa

Tagged: give yourself to me, Hilliard, Hollis, interrracial, the work, vampires

Yesterday

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Mighty Good Man, my latest, came out yesterday a day late. I’m so, so sorry that it didn’t come out on Saturday as promised. There was a snafu, a huge one, which was finally fixed. The book costs $3.99, and I’ve lowered the price of You are Mine as well. It will be $3.99 until Friday, the 25th. As many of you already know, You are Mine, features the best friends — Caroline and Brian — of the characters from A Mighty Good Man. Thanks so much for your patience and your support. Below are the links to the sites where they’re available:

A Mighty Good Man

amazon

ARE

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords

You are Mine

amazon

ARE

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords

 

FYI, ARE and Smashwords offer several different formats. Again, thanks to everyone for their patience.

Best,

Lisa

 

 

Tagged: amightygoodman, the work, YouAreMine

Lisanalia!

Because A Mighty Good Man is hitting virtual shelves later today, I want to celebrate. and I offer you (que the fanfare):  LISA-NALIA. Lisanalia is a new part of the blog that will feature contests, excerpts and other fun things. Today, we’ll just do excerpts. The first is another excerpt from A Mighty Good Man, and the second one is from another book I’ve been working on called The Golden Touch. Enjoy, and welcome to this inaugural version of: LISA-NALIA!

A Mighty Good Man:

Fingers entwined with Jack’s, Tracy swung their arms between them as they left the Dasari yard for their own. The sun was fading fast as night approached and the temperature was perfect for a visit to the swim spa. In spite of everything going on in her life at that moment, she felt as if happiness was seeping from her bones. She squeezed Jack’s hand. “How was your trip? What did they want?” she asked.

Jack stopped just inside their yard, lifted her hand to his lips and bussed her knuckles. “It was all right,” he said thoughtfully. “Same old, same old. I thought about you a lot.”

“Did you?” Tracy asked as she stared up into his eyes. “I’ll bet not as much as I did you.”

Jack tossed the T-shirt he’d been carrying across his shoulder and took both of her hands in his. He placed them around his neck. Putting his hands at her waist, he pulled her closer. “You think not?” he whispered against her mouth before sucking lightly on her bottom lip. “What do you want to bet?”

Tracy couldn’t concentrate because of the little nips he was treating her mouth to, and seeking something deeper, she came up on her toes and angled her head so her mouth was pressed firmly to his. She could tell something was bothering him and sipping at his mouth, offered him comfort. She tightened her hands on his neck as she felt the usual deep pull in her stomach when he suckled her tongue, pulling it deep into his mouth.

He took his time re-learning the taste of her, his tongue seeming to touch every inch of the inside of her mouth. She felt desire begin to rise at a slow, but steady rate, unfurling in the pit of her stomach like a waking beast. She knew it would eventually grow into something akin to a raging inferno and the mere thought hiked her need up a few notches, and she let her body go limp onto his. She pressed herself against him in pure want, wishing foolishly that the kiss would last forever.

The Golden Touch:

“The answer is an unequivocal no, Danya.”

“It’s a simple loan, Mama. If I can’t borrow the money from you and –”

“And don’t be trying to call your daddy, either – whining and giving him some sob story. It’s time you learned to stand on your own two feet.”

Danya Cole took a deep breath and tried to quell the fear that was rapidly reaching the level of hysteria. She cleared her throat and tried one more time to convince her mother to loan her five thousand dollars. She did her best not to whine. “I’ve not asked you and Daddy for anything for two years, Mama. I’ve been making a good go of things with A Fab You.  It’s only lately that things have gotten bad.”

“Hmmph,” Mrs. Cole said and Danya felt the phone lines nearly vibrate with her mother’s disapproval. “You might not have asked, but you certainly took. And before you waste brain power trying to guess if I know about the money your father has been slipping you on the sly, let me just tell you: Yes, I do. Now close your mouth and un-widen your eyes: the mystery is over.”

Danya closed her mouth with a snap and because her mother had said it, felt her eyes shrink back to their normal size. She tried to clean up the mess. “It wasn’t like we were keeping secrets from you…exactly. It’s just that Daddy felt since y’all were paying for Jeremy’s spring vacation, that I should get some money for my vacation, as well. That goes for the trip y’all took him on to Glacier National Park this past summer, too. Daddy said that just because I’m not there in Savannah with everyone doesn’t mean I should miss out on the advantages Jeremy gets.”

“No, but the fact that Jeremy is seventeen, and you’re twenty-eight does mean that you should.”

“What was I supposed to do? Not take the money, Mama?”

“Yes, Danya Marie. It would have been wonderful if you had not taken the money, thereby showing that you are indeed maturing and not depending on us so much.”

“But Daddy offered—” Danya stopped and pinching the bridge of her nose, took another deep breath. “I need the loan for rent, Mama. Plus, my car note, insurance, utilities and other things.”

“It’s already the third, Danya. Are you telling me you haven’t paid this month’s rent or your car note yet?”

Danya frowned impatiently. “No, Mama, you misunderstand. I’m talking next month’s rent and things. I’ve only got about five thousand in the bank, and that will dry up pretty quick. Chicago isn’t cheap.”

Mrs. Cole’s chortles could only be described as raucous and they went on for at least a half a minute, making Danya shift her feet and roll her eyes. Her mother finally said, “I love you, baby, but you’re more than a little spoiled and delusional. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to have that much of a cushion? You’re in a better position than hundreds of thousands of people. You’ve got money in the bank, and you’ve got time. The first thing I would do if I were you is trade in that ridiculously expensive gas guzzler for something more affordable like a Hyundai or something.”

Danya’s stomach dropped to her toes at the thought. She needed her Lexus SUV. In her business, image was everything. Plus, she loved the hell out of that car. “Mama,” she said in a clipped voice. “I cannot show up at a client’s driving some hooptie.”

“You heard what I said, and it was not hooptie –”

“As far as my clients are concerned, it might as well be.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, but let’s continue with your options. Stop going out every Friday night. You spend too much money to support this strange habit of always ‘kickin’ it’ as you’re fond of saying.  And lay off the shopping for a time. And lastly, you need to pick up another job. This business you’re in of picking out grown folks’ clothes and such, while it was profitable for a while, seems a bit odd. And obviously you can’t rely on it.”

Danya rolled her eyes, and in the manner of someone weary of repeating herself, said, “Personal stylist, Mama. I am a per-so-nal sty-list.”

“Yes, sugah, I know, but you’re not having much luck with that right now, so do something else in the meantime in-between time. I recall you saying a couple-three weeks ago that your friend Jess asked you to devote some time to her pre-school. She wanted you to teach Spanish. Is that right?”

“Yes,” Danya admitted reluctantly, “and help with other things. And it’s not just a pre-school. She has after school care, too.”

“Do it.”

Danya frowned at the edict. She had already decided to call her friend and see if the position was still available. She sighed. “Mama?”

“Yes?”

“Have I really been that much of a burden?”

Her mother’s own sigh was patient and sympathetic. “You were never a burden, Dani, but you are spoiled, and that’s your father’s and my fault. We’ve been trying to cut you off gradually. Now don’t get me wrong; you’ve always had a wonderful work ethic and a great willingness to do what it takes to get the job done. That was never a problem, but we do want you to be more independent. Your call today is an example of how you depend on us a little too much. I get that you’re concerned about finances, and it’s good that you are looking towards the future, but your father and I should be your last resort – after you’ve exhausted all other options, one of which is getting another job.”

Danya didn’t bother to tell her mother that she’d already decided to talk to Jess about the job she’d offered if her parents wouldn’t give her the loan. “I understand, Mama. Thanks.”

“You okay, sweetheart? I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but everything I said needed to be discussed.”

“I’m fine, Mama,” Danya murmured, feeling a bit sorry for herself and thinking that if her parents felt that way, then her behavior must have been beyond the pale. “Thanks for the advice.”

“I love you, baby. Now I just have one last suggestion: those expensive shoes.”

Truly horrified now, Danya told her mother she loved her too, and hurriedly clicked off the phone before things truly descended into hell.

Tagged: amightygoodman, excerpts, lisanalia, thegoldentouch

New Cover and Excerpt

My latest book, A Mighty Good Man, will be released on the 19th. Above is a copy of the awesome cover, and below is a brief excerpt to wet your whistle. I hope you enjoy it. Happy Friday!

Tracy placed her money on top of the check, and looked up to find Jack and Brian approaching. As always, she achieved tunnel vision and saw no one but Jack. Everything inside her shifted as if to make room for the overwhelming emotions she felt. She let her gaze roam over his long frame, stopping at his chest where he cradled the baby in his arms, his large hand flat against the child’s back with spread fingers. As she watched, he tenderly kissed the baby’s tiny forehead, his lips seeming to linger. Her eyes met his, and she found it difficult to look away from the intensity of his gaze. His gorgeous blue eyes held such longing that she had to look away for a moment as guilt pierced her conscience. Tears stung and she blinked so that the drops caught in her lashes. “Damn it, Jack,” she whispered shakily.

There was a sudden quiet in their group that let Tracy know that no one had missed her tears. She wiped at them with the tips of her fingers and then made the process of putting her wallet away a longer one than necessary as she tried to pull herself together. She almost sighed in relief when Caroline rose from the table, saying, “There’s mommy’s sweet girl. Give me my baby, Jack.”

Tracy continued to sit with her head bowed as she listened to the conversation swirling around her. Brian spoke to K.K., she answered. Caroline cooed, the baby gurgled happily and her sweet baby scent of powder and lotion wafted all around them. Tracy took it all in, all the while avoiding looking at her fiancé. Her feelings were a jumbled mess. She wanted to give Jack what he wanted, and felt horrible for not being able to take that final step. At the same time, there was a small kernel of resentment buried deep down inside of her regarding the entire situation. The pressure of it all made her rigid in her chair, until finally her body couldn’t withstand its own tautness and she found herself trying to suppress a shudder as her frame forcibly relaxed itself.

The deep timbre of Jack’s voice joined the chaotic sounds of the busy restaurant and Tracy shut her eyes in longing, wishing they weren’t at odds. They’d had an argument that morning, and he’d left the house without saying goodbye.

“All set for the doctor, sweetheart?” Brian asked Caroline and Tracy heard Caroline give her assent.  “Jack dropped by the house, and thought he’d come along with me to meet you guys,” Brian continued. “This way, he can take Tracy home and we can go straight to the doctor.”

Tracy shut her purse, looked up, and sneaked a peek at Jack, knowing that he was still looking at her. He hadn’t taken his gaze off her since Brian and he had arrived. She’d felt it. Burning her like a brand. She looked away. The tension that had invaded her body had spread and still hung over the group, and she knew it was unfair to subject her friends to such uncomfortableness. She stood in preparation to leave. “Good thinking, Jack.” She looked over at K.K. “You want a lift?”

K.K. quirked a brow, and let out a chuckle of disbelief. “Not with the two of you,” she said emphatically, looking as if she were surprised Tracy had even asked the question.

Tracy narrowed her eyes at her. “Whatever, K.K.”

Still seated, K.K. smirked and blew her a kiss. “Toodles,” she cooed as she wagged two fingers at her.

Tracy readied a comeback, but Jack had made it to her side. He bent and kissed her cheek, and placed his hand in the small of her back, his fingers massaging lightly through the thin cloth of her blouse. She shuddered and having missed his forgiveness and the feeling of having him so intimately close all day, closed her eyes and turned her head so that his cheek and lips brushed against her forehead as he straightened. He kissed her again, this time on the top of her head, and she found herself wanting to cry.

Tagged: amightygoodman, excerpts, the work

“Dashing Through the Snow” Excerpt

Good morning. I got a great review yesterday, and it got me thinking.  So I’m revisiting my first cozy mystery, Dashing Through the Snow, in preparation for writing the second one. Anyway, I thought I’d share an excerpt from the book, as well. Hope you enjoy it. That lovely cover is by Whit Holcomb, by the way.

Excerpt:

Feeling pensive, Smith looked at her. “Want me to lie down with you?” he asked her. He wanted to hold her, but was afraid to because he couldn’t get the idea of her fragility out of his mind. He thought she might want to be held and since he was at a loss as to what to do for her, but needed to do something, he offered, thinking that she needed comforting.  He’d never felt so impotent in all his life.

She chuckled. “Cut it out, Smith. You know good and well you’d rather be watching the Bears game — even though they’ll probably get their asses kicked as they have for the past three games. Who knew one man’s broken thumb could make a bunch of grown men fold like a bad poker hand?”

He laughed, once again surprising himself. “Cut them a break. The entire team depends on the quarterback. Though I admit; they shouldn’t be so fuckin’ lost without him. There’s one consolation, though: at least there’s no chance of them getting fucking Tebowed again. God, I hate that term!”

“Don’t hate just ‘cause Jesus obviously loves him best,” Lily said drowsily as her eyelids slowly blinked once…twice and finally just shut.

Chuckling and feeling a slight easing of the anger and agony that had help him in their combined grip for the past twenty-four hours, Smith kissed her forehead and stood, suddenly deciding that watching the game sounded like a splendid idea.

 

Lily stretched awake and then snuggled down beneath the thick comforter again, burrowing one arm underneath so her good hand could grab at the covers and pull them up to her chin. She smiled, feeling as if she could walk among the living again. Turning her head, she looked at the alarm clock on her bedside table. Four o’clock. She’d gotten at least four hours of sleep uninterrupted by pain, and was glad of it. Lying still, she assessed her pain level and finding it low, she gave a nod of satisfaction.

She allowed herself one last snuggle before tossing the covers back and getting out of bed. She looked down at herself. All she wore was a black tank and matching low rise panties. A wave of heat washed over her and her knees went weak as she remembered that Smith had put her to bed. He’d stripped her down to her skivvies and poured her between the sheets. “God bless Texas cowboys who take worrying to a high art,” she murmured, as she vaguely remembered waking up more than once to find him sitting on her window seat looking out for her.

She heard a sound come from downstairs and cocked her head. Her television was on and it was playing a football game. She allowed herself a slight anticipatory smile; totally unsurprised that he’d stayed over. Yearning awakened like a patient wild thing in her stomach and slowly, she walked from the room to make her way down the stairs.

 

He heard her coming, and engrossed in the game, raised his voice a bit and said, “You should be in bed, Lily-bud. If you need anything, let me get it,” he finished without taking his eyes off the television. “Feeling better? You hungry?” She didn’t answer, but the cushion beside him dipped from her weight.         

Facing him, Lily sat on her haunches and being careful of her injury, wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Smith automatically lifted his hand to caress her arm. She nuzzled his head with her nose, breathed him in and bending her neck a little farther, took the lobe of his ear between her teeth. “Smith.”

Smith cocked a brow, his entire body on full alert. She didn’t just say his name, she breathed it. He stiffened. “Sweetness.”

Lily licked his ear and planted kisses behind it, the hunger she felt for him threatening to overwhelm her. “I’m horny,” she said between soft, wet kisses.

Her voice was still breathy and he heard the strain of sexual tension beneath it. He turned his head, got a good look at her and narrowed his eyes to see what he could see. Heavy-lidded, but pain-free eyes. Sleep-tousled hair. Gorgeous, full lips.

He reached out to push some of her hair behind her ear, smoothing it over her shoulder where he caressed the soft, firm skin. Angling in to suck briefly at her lips, he asked, “How horny?”

“Very,” she whispered, and leaned harder against him, pushing her breast against his arm so that her nipple hardened and poked his arm. Her breath caught and she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. “Extremely.”

Tagged: dashing, excerpt, the work

Take Care of Yourself

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  It’s a good time (as is any other time) to be thinking about your breast health, and to raise awareness. Getting screened is important, and many places offer free or low-cost exams. Here are a few facts regarding early detection from the American Cancer Society:

Yearly mammograms are recommended starting at age 40
Clinical Breast Exams (CBEs) are recommended every three years for women in their 20s and 30s, and every year for women over 40
You should know how your breasts normally look and feel and immediately report any change to your health care provider. Breast Self Examinations (BSEs) should start in your 20s

Remember, many women survive breast cancer because of early detection efforts. Take good care of yourself, and share this information if you will.

Later,

Lisa

 

Tagged: breast cancer, breast health, healthcare, helping hand, personal

So. Here’s what I thought…

(photo by kapybara42)

I’m on deadline right now (a second self-imposed one), and up until about a week ago had been writing in fits and starts for about a month. Fits and starts because the story would come, and then it would go, with the characters remaining stubbornly silent. Sometimes, I’d sit in front of the computer for hours with only a few paragraphs to show for it. I’m on track now, and things are moving, but it was a grueling process.

So.

Here’s what I thought: someone should invent a super smart, creative, thought-controlled, awesome, robot-like thingy. This wonderful invention would take a few pertinent details from me, things like characters, their names and their motivation. And, oh yeah, plot. I’d throw the bones of a plot in there as well. And then with those details, the genius robot would go on to create the end product: a full-length masterpiece. With my name on it.

The world — my world — would be a much better place if this could happen. Like soon.

So…any takers? I’d love you forever.

 

 

Tagged: personal, wishes, Writing