L.M. Pruitt's Blog, page 13

Random Thursday!--Plotting EVERYTHING

I'm a planner. It's what I do. I plan for trips, for the day, for my evening out. Hell, I've planned for the zombie apocolypse. You would think this makes plotting almost second nature.

You would think. You would also be wrong.

I've tried plotting. Really, I have. I've created entire documents, like 5 or 6 page documents, with breakdowns of what's going to happen in each chapter. I've even included dialogue sometimes, just so I wouldn't forget those little flashes of inspiration.

For some reason, those books are always the hardest ones to write.

Don't get me wrong, I always hit a wall when writing. Always. I've discovered the earlier the wall, the easier the rest of the writing process. For instance, with Taken, I hit the wall around chapter eighteen or so. I took a few weeks off, dealt with stuff, and after that it was pretty smooth sailing. Whenever I get back to Shades of Blood, which will be the project after Harvest Moon Rising, I shouldn't have any issues--I hit the wall, I know where I'm going, and now I'm ready to burrow/climb under/over it.

But plotting? Actually writing stuff down? It kind of makes the wall even harder to climb.

I've talked about this, and one of the theories is that because I already know where the book is going, I have no desire to write it. Like, if you know how the movie is going to end, do you still watch the movie? Well, depending on my investment in the movie, yes. There have been times I've Googled a movie, not like the ending, and said "Screw this", and cu it off. But that's rare. And since it could be argued that I'm naturally invested (after all, I'm writing the damn thing), then that theory doesn't have a lot of weight.

I have no good answer for not following the plotting process. The only answer I have is: it doesn't work for me.

So maybe I do have a good answer after all.

Writing Wednesday--Getting Back on Track

Wednesday! By the end of the evening, I'll be in a lovely, vodka induced haze. Not stupor, just haze. Before then, there will be work (again), maybe some shopping, definitely a movie. And I'm going to do my best to squeeze in wome writing.

There's something about working 7 shifts a week that makes me disinclined to write. It's like all my energy goes into just getting through the week, that by the time I have time to write--meaning from Thursday to Sunday--I'm so busy playing catch up with life in general that I can't find the energy and drive to work. Does this suck? Yes. Does it piss me off? Yep. Do I feel like a total slacker? Bet your ass.

Can I do anything about it? Not at the moment.

I'm nearing the end of my lawyer-like schedule, and I can feel some of my energy returning. Not a lot, but some. I can sit down and write about 500 words or so without wanting to fall into a coma from lack of sleep. I can kick myself in the ass a little bit harder and not feel like I'm overextending myself.

In other words, I'm getting back on track.

Thank God. Because I was totally about to blow my timeline for the year. And that would have pissed me off more than the lack of sleep.

The Tuesday Buildup--Introducting Harvest Moon Rising

Woohoo! New stuff! Yes, I'm wired on caffeine, and probably causing tons of damage to my liver with my Diet Coke addiction. YOU try working 5 fifty-plus hour work weeks in a row and see how dependent you become on caffeine. But I digress.

Below is the raw, unedited opening for Harvest Moon Rising. Feedback is more than welcome. Otherwise--enjoy!


I hung up the phone, leaning against thecounter when my knees sagged.Before I could tell him not to worry, Mike was through the screen door, pickingme up and carrying me into the living room. He eased the pair of us down ontothe sofa, cradling me with all the care of a china doll."What'swrong, Cari?" He brushed my hair back, his eyes darting frantically over myface.  "Did something happen?""Michellefound a doctor." The words didn't seem to come from me, even though I felt mylips moving, my tongue working. "She said he might be able to fix things.""Fixthings? Cari, there's nothing wrong with you. What things?" His fingers closedover my wrist, not stroking, just holding steady. Annoyance shot through me athis overly obvious attempt to check my pulse. "Talk to me, Cari.""Maybe ifyou'd stop treating me like glass, I'd be able to." Wiggling off his lap, Ishoved my hands in the pockets of my robe, pacing to the end of the room. "He'ssome sort of special doctor, a reproductive specialist. It's the only kind ofwork he does, and he's pretty good at it, at least according to Michele.""Areproductive specialist." Mike scratched the back of his neck, brow furrowingin concentration. "Like the kind of guy who does in vitro fertilization andwhat not?""Yeah, heprobably does stuff like that. But he can also work around scar tissue. Likethe kind Doc sad I have." I looked out the window, stared at the treeline. Fromthis distance, the low grave wasn't visible. But I'd never forget it was there."There's a chance to fix things.""Cari." Heclosed his mouth and shook his head. "You know you can't do this.""I cantry." Turning back around, I studied him. Some sixth sense told me to backdown, to listen to him, to follow the voice of reason. But Michele's voicestill rang in my ear, her absolute faith in this man none of us had ever met. Alifetime of believing her didn't die in a week. "We can try, Mike.""You'renot doing this, Cari." He stood, crossing his arms, his eyes flickering fromgreen to brown and back again. "That's final."I liftedmy chin. "Watch me."

Sexy Sunday!

So, I'm adding something new--yes, I'm so full of crazy. I'm hoping this little writing exercise will keep me primed to write during the week, and remind me about crazy things like deadlines.

Every Sunday, I'll be posting a short snippet--ok, not too short--of some sexy fiction. I expect it'll take about 2-3 weeks to do each short tale, but we'll see. Up first---


The Untold Story of Goldi and the Three Behrs (Brothers)
 "Damn it. Lost again." Goldi turned aslow circle, tapping a pink painted nail on her lower lip. The lip colormatched the nails, which matched the flirty sundress. Goldi was nothing if notcolor coordinated. "I really should have charged my phone before I left."She scowled at the device in questionbefore tucking it into her purse—also pink—and sighing. "I guess I'll have tohope I find the cottage here soon." Pulling a folded sheet of paper from thetiny bag she scanned the chicken scratch again.Goldi,Meet me atthe cottage where we first made love. I've got a surprise for you.            Bruno"And of course this cottage would be downa road with no vehicle access." Glaring down at her impractical shoes, shesighed one more time before starting down the narrow path. Flipping the long,blonde curls over her shoulder, she muttered, "This better be the surprise of alifetime."

"Get up,man. We gotta get the lumber down to the dock." Abraham nudged hisyounger brother again. When the lump under the covers merely grunted, Abrahamballed his hand into a fist, slamming the solid mass into Charlie's shoulder. "Getup."The force of the blow rolled Charlie offthe bed and on to the hardwood floor. He roared, pushing to his feet, his ownfists raised. "Fuck you, Abe. You know I didn't get in until five this morning.""Not my fault you decided to go into thecity and look for a piece of ass." Abe tossed a pair of pants across the bed,one eyebrow raised. "Put some clothes on. Not only do I have everything you do,I have it better."Charlie snarled, but yanked the pants on."So says you. Where's Bryan?""Loading the truck up. The sooner we getdown to the docks, the sooner we get back, and the sooner you can crawl backinto your bed." Abe scrubbed a tanned hand over the scruff on his chin, a fewshades darker than the sleep tousled hair his brother sprouted. "Good night?""Hell, no." Charlie pulled on a plainwhite shirt, shoved his feet into battered work boots. "Spent damn near fiftydollars on drinks and all I got was a giggle and eye flutter.""You're aware that buying a woman drinksdoesn't mean she has to put out, right?" Abe shrugged into a light weightjacket, his light blue eyes shining with amusement. "This is a new century,bro.""Yeah, I'm aware. But call me stupid,when a woman spends the night wiggling the most perfect ass I've ever seen on my dick, I think that maybe, justmaybe, I'm not driving back out here and bunking down in my tiny ass bed."Charlie stepped into the bathroom, his next words muffled by a mouthful oftoothpaste. "I mean, Abe. She was on my dick. If there were no clothesinvolved, it would have been heaven.""Unfortunately, there were, so it wasn't.Shake the lead out, Charlie. Bryan's probably done and waiting at this point."Abe headed out the door, calling back up the stairs. "Better luck next time."Charlie snorted, gurgled mouthwash. "Yeah.Because hot, horny chicks just happen to wander into our neck of the woods."

"Christ.Finally."Goldi fisted her hair in a ponytail, fanning the nape of her neck. "Bruno'sgoing to have to wait. I need a shower and a vodka martini before I even thinkabout sex."Although thinking about sex had her morethan a little revved up. Bruno might have been dumber than a sack of rocks andbarely able to carry on a conversation that didn't involve sports or beer, buthe had qualities that more than made up for his lack of brains. Goldi walked alittle faster, her breath turning to pants from both exertion and arousal. Whenshe knocked on the door, she'd already revised her priorities for theafternoon.After a moment, Goldi knocked again,annoyance seeping through the lovely haze of desire. Her third knock wasactually more of a bang, her knuckles smarting with the force behind thegesture. Huffing out a breath, she gripped the door knob, prepared to rattlethe metal until the dumbass answered.The knob turned smooth and Goldi flushed,the color staining her cheekbones. "Bruno, honey? It's me." Deliberatelysoftening her voice into the baby tones she knew he preferred, she steppedinside, easing the door shut behind her. "I'm sorry it took me so long. Youknow how horrible I am with directions."Silence.The slight curve of her lips flattenedout, her eyes narrowing. She struggled to keep her voice light. "Bruno? I'msuper excited about your surprise."Nothing."Fuck." Flinging her purse on the halltable, she kicked her heels off, the pink stilettos flying over the carpet. "Wherethe hell is he?"She wandered into the kitchen, her barefoot making little sound on the smooth, hardwood floor. Glancing at the table,she snorted. "Porridge? Three bowls of porridge was my surprise? He better be glad he's not here."Turning, she strode back into the livingroom. Flopping down into the first chair, she squealed when she almost disappearedinto its depths. Struggling against the pillowy soft cushions, she finallymanaged to crawl out. Panting, she pushed to her feet. "Jesus. That's insane."Cautiously, she prodded the seat of thesecond chair. Squealing, she yanked her hand back, examining her nail. "Damn.Totally chipped the polish. And I just had these done."She eyeballed the third chair, easingover on tiptoes. Slowly, she sat down, sighing in relief. "Oh, this is perfect.Absolutely perfect." Giving a little wiggle, she closed her eyes, curling herfeet up under her. "Finally. I swear, the owners picked the worst decoratingfirm in the state whenever they redid this place."Leaning her head back, she studied theceiling, trying to remember if there had been ornamented tin ceilings the lasttime Bruno brought her here. To be honest, she'd been more concerned with gettinghim upstairs and into bed and finally getting laid. The momentous event hadlasted all of fifteen minutes the first time, something he'd apologizedprofusely for before running down to…."Of course." Goldi sat up, rolling hereyes at her own stupidity. He'd probably ran down to the little general storeto get a bottle of that shitty substance the hicks in the area called whitewine. "Got to go the whole way, don't you, babycakes?"Sliding out of the chair, she headed upthe stairs, stopping when she reached the landing. She stared at the threedoors in confusion, frowning. "I could have sworn there was only one bedroom…."Opening the first door, she blinked atthe massive four-poster structure dominating the room. "Jesus. You could fitsix people on the damn thing." Crossing the floor, she probed the mattress,stepping back in a hurry. "Hell, no. If I climb on this mattress I'll wind upon a milk carton."Scurrying out, she opened the seconddoor, eying the only slightly smaller bed. Using the heel of her palm, she gavethe neatly made surface a push, wincing when it didn't budge. Glaring at theoffending object, she muttered, "I'm starting to see a pattern here."The third door stood open, the sheetscovering the bed in disarray. Though smaller than either of the other two, itwas still bigger than even a California King, covering most of the floor space.Goldi chewed on her lower lip for a moment, contemplating her plan. Finally,she reached down, lifting the now wilted sundress over her head and tossing itin a corner.Naked now, she crawled onto the mattress,rolling on to her back and moaning. "Oh, yes." Stretching her arms over herhead, she ran her fingers through her hair, sighing. "Oh, yes."The morning's activities caught up withher and she yawned, snuggling deeper into the perfect mattress. Murmuring, "Maybejust a quick nap before he gets back," she closed her eyes and drifted tosleep.


"He cheatedus. Again. Goddamn city folk." Bryan, just over six feet, falling between histwo brothers in height and coloring, slammed into the cottage. "Fucking Bruno.""We should count ourselves lucky he wasmore concerned with getting back to his little woodland rendezvous to actuallypay attention, otherwise he would have put more effort in to the screwing hejust gave us." Abe pulled his jacket off, started to hang it up. "Huh.""What?" Bryan stomped in to the kitchen,yanking open the fridge and pulling out three beers. Handing one to each of hisbrothers, he popped the top on his own, draining half with the first swallow. "Abe?""Either one of you taken a shine to pinkpurses lately?" Abe held up the tiny bag with one finger, glancing from Bryanto Charlie, just then walking in the door. "You sure you didn't bring a womanhome and forget about her?""Like a woman is willingly going to comeall the way out here." Charlie leaned against the doorframe, scratching hischin. "Definitely curious.""Just about as curious as those littlepink heels over there." Dropping the purse back on the table, Abe crossed thefloor, kneeling next to the shoes in question. "Size nine. Not delicate, butnot a lumberjack.""Nice. Still doesn't answer the questionof what it's doing here." Bryan glanced up the stairs, setting his now emptybottle down on the hall table. "Let's check upstairs."At the top of the staircase, the threesplit up. Abe studied his room, noticing a small dent in the mattress. Raisinghis voice, he called out, "Nothing here."In the next room, Bryan scowled,straightening the throw on his mattress a millimeter from where someone haddisturbed it. "Nothing here, either."Both brothers waited for Charlie toanswer. After a long moment, Abe called out, "Charlie?" At the continuedsilence, Abe turned, striding over the wooden floor, his features shifting intoa frown. He met Bryan on the landing, jerking his head toward their youngerbrother's room. Both men stopped steps inside the room, partially becauseCharlie blocked their path.Mostly because of the naked womansleeping in their younger brother's bed."She was not there when I woke you upthis morning." Abe glanced at Charlie in confirmation. "Right? I didn't missthis, did I?""If you did, so did I. In which case, Ithink it's time you throw handfuls of cold dirt on my lifeless corpse." Charlieinched over the floor, his fingers reaching out to touch the tips of thesleeping woman's toes. "It's like a miracle. I asked for a horny woman in mybed, and I got one.""She's sleeping. Doesn't seem that hornyto me." Bryan crossed his arms, shifting from one foot to the other in aneffort to ease the increasing discomfort in his jeans. At the same time, thenaked nymph rolled over to her stomach, her ass rising with the movement. "Christ,that's beautiful."Something about the ass clicked in Abe'smind and he choked back a laugh. "I don't believe this shit.""Neither do I." Charlie stroked herinstep, his breathing growing shallow. "Even her feet are amazing.""This is Bruno's latest piece of ass.Goldi something. Some little wannabe actress." Abe walked over to stand next tohis brother, studying the raised posterior. "I remember seeing her the lasttime I had to go to the office and sign some paperwork.""How is it the asshole always gets thehot woman?" Giving into his urges, Bryan joined his brothers, one hand reachingout to knead the golden flesh. All three men made various sounds of approvalwhen the sleeping woman groaned low in her throat, pressing her ass into Bryan'shand. "Jesus. I'm hard as a fucking rock.""Guys, Bruno screwed us over thismorning." Abe stepped back, pulling his shirt off, the muscles in his chest flexingand bulging with the movement. His eyes gleamed wickedly. "We're screwing himover this afternoon.""If that's your poetic way of saying we'retaking advantage of this gift from God, the devil, or whoever…." Bryan startedstripping his own clothes off, flinging them aside with none of his usualfastidiousness. "Thank you. Thank you a thousand times over."Charlie crawled up the bed, easing Goldi'sthighs apart. "Me first."

Check back next week to see how the Behrs Brothers wake up their trespasser. Happy reading everyone!

Food Friday!--BBQ Chicken Chili

Woohoo! We've got ourselves a recipe. I actually just made this up yesterday. I happened to be wandering around the grocery store, thinking what I wanted to cook for dinner, and the idea of everything just came into place. I'll be honest, I wasn't even sure how it was going to turn out, but it worked out pretty damn well, if I do say so myself.

1 pound ground chicken (Perdue makes a pretty good package, and they also offer ground chicken breast for the super health conscience)
1 cup diced onion
2-3 tablespoons garlic butter (Land o'Lakes does a nice little package)
3 tablesppon diced garlic
3 small cans Hunt's garlic flarvored tomato sauce
8 oz Bullseye Carolina BBQ sauce (this is a vinegar based sauce, sweet but tangy--you can use any variety you like, but I find the tang brings out the flavor better)
4 tablespoons A1 Sweet Hickory BBQ Steak Sauce
3-4 tablespoons chili powder
1 can of white and yellow corn
1 can light red kidney beans (I usually use Bush's)

Melt the garlic butter in a large boiler. Add the diced onions and garlic and saute for 4-5 minutes until the onions are tender. Add the ground chicken and cook until good and crumbly, usually about 10 minutes on medium. Add the BBQ sauce, tomato sauce, steak sauce, and chili powder. Mix throughly, tasting for flavor. Add more BBQ sauce or chli powder according to personal preference. Add corn and kidney beans. Cover and bring to a light boil. Reduce heat to low and let simmer for 1-2 hours. Serve with sharp cheddar cheese and a dollop of sour cream.


That's it guys! Have a great weekend and I'll catch you on the flip side!

Random Thursday!--Wow, I'm Behind

Sorry for the radio silence. Work has been...difficult. Scratch that. LIFE has been difficult.

I had to give my dog back to the shelter. Yes, I cried like a baby. I got him a month ago as a Christmas present to myself, and our then-landlords were cool with him. Flash forward to Monday: I found out the new owners of my complex have instituted a 10 pound and under rule. No problem until my lease comes up for renewal--but then I'd have to find some place new to live. Continued problem: most places won't take more than 2 animals, and since I've had my cats for almost a year, I can't split them up. So, Max had to go back to the shelter. I cried. A lot.

I'm still working my 7 shifts in 6 days. They're training someone, claiming he'll be ready in 2 weeks. Doubtful, just because of the massive amount of information they have to learn. I've been told I'm cranky on Wednesday mornings, probably because it's my fourth straight shift in a row, and I'm usually running on only 4 hours of sleep. I won't share with you my response to that statement, since I try not to use too many of those words on a public website.

On the plus side, less than 40 days until vacation! I'm suffering wardrobe setbacks, but I shall persevere. I've got a good portion of my trip planned out--I'm probably spending Sunday morning eating breakfast and hitting up the Met, maybe Broadway, and then Monday at Ellis Island and in the Bronx. I'm excited, to say the least.

I also got two new tattoos, one on each foot. Yes, it hurt. A lot. The left says: Amazing Grace, 4-30. The right says: Walk with Thee, 9-28. For the curious, it's my grandparents' favorite songs and their birthdays. My grandfather died 15 years ago, my grandmother a little over 2 years ago. Yes, I still tear up thinking about my grandmother. But I'd been wanting something to sort of honor them for a bit, and this is what I got.

[image error] Yes, my left ankle is super swollen. I have tendonitis there, and while it doesn't impede me (a lot), you can really notice the swelling when they're next to each other.

Okay, I think that rounds up the random. Breakfast, followed by the kiddies, followed by some work of my own. Catch you on the flip side!

Media Monday!--A Preview of Smash!

It's rare that I actually watch something before it's real live debut, for the simple fact that I don't want to become attached to a show and then have it not work out. This is one of the main reasons I never watched The Playboy Club--well, that and the super crappy reviews. Great concept, poor execution, bad press. But I digress.

So, when I saw that NBC was offering their new show Smash! on OnDemand before the debut, I was skeptical. Okay, I was also skeptical because of the concept--a musical of sorts on prime time television. Let's not talk about Glee, which is not nearly the same thing. When I say musical, I mean actually musical--that's the concept. A team of writers (Debra Messing, Christian Borle) are in the process of writing a Broadway musical about--get this--Marilyn Monroe. One of the lines that gets repeated a lot in the pilot, to great effect, is "We/You can have a baseball number." And what a number it turns out to be. I won't ruin the surprise, but it's cheeky and sexy without being overly smutty.

Vying for the role of Marilyn are two fairly unknowns. The first, Ivy Lynn (Megan Hilty) is not a novice on Broadway, but she hasn't had her big break yet. She's already halfway to Marilyn, with the figure, the hair, and the bubbly personality. The second, Karen Carpenter (Katherine McPhee), hasn't landed a role yet. She's fresh off the farm, working as a waitress, living the dream of a million people who come to New York. She's Marilyn before Marilyn become Marilyn (follow that sentence, it really does make sense). And it stands to reason that both women can sing. Ivy Lynn has the big, bold Broadway style down pat. Karen Carpenter is more earnest, still a little too shiny and bright around the edges.

But--I've got no shame in saying I'm Team Karen. Maybe it's because I'm partial to Katherine McPhee in general. Or it might be because Ivy Lynn's over the top style just annoys the hell out of me.

There are other characters--the producer, played by Anjelica Huston, who's eager to get a show on Broadway, despite her divorce problems. The director, played by Jack Davenport (yes, the oh so yummy Captain Norrington from Pirates of the Caribbean), who has already shown his sleazy side, only one episode in. Debra Messing's Julia is in the middle of adoption proceedings, Christian Borle's Tom despises the director....oh, the possibilities for drama and angst and fabulous songs are almost endless.

All in all, if the pilot is any indication of the rest of the series, I'm sold. I'm sold on the show, I'm sold on Karen Carpenter, and damn it, I'm sold on the Marilyn musical. I can not wait for the second episode in February.

Food Friday!--The Beauty of Bar Food

Even though I didn't go to karoake last night (damn you, exhaustion and sinus infection), we're still going to take a few minutes to talk about the wonderful little sub-category known as bar food.

I'm not talking about what little yuppie places or fancy little wine bistros like to call "bar food". I'm not talking tapas or canapes or other little frou-frou deals. I'm talking good, old-fashioned, might be bad for you but is definitely worth sinning for, makes you drool just thinking about it bar food.

The bar I frequent, Corner Pocket Bar and Grill, has some of the best bar food I've every tasted. And believe me, I've tasted a lot. They have a healthy variety, with everything from your traditional burger to meatloaf to gator tail. Prices are reasonable, with a burger and side running you right around the six, maybe seven dollar mark. Dinner items, such as the meatloaf or even their version of surf and turf, will cost a little more, but still no more than ten, and you'll get soup or salad, and a side or two. I haven't tried their desserts, just because super sweet stuff doesn't seem the best idea when you've been drinking all night, but they sound delicious.

As great as all this sounds, it's really the appetizers that sell the place. Including the aforementioned gator tail, you've also got potato wedges, fried green beans (a personal weakness), mozzerella sticks, southwest egg rolls, and a killer special on wings. I'm not a huge fan of wings myself (I don't like bones in my meat. Yes, I'm weird.), but everytime one of the servers/bar girls passes me with a basket, my mouth waters and I find myself wondering if I can overcome my aversion to the bone. And then I remind myself that I really can't and I sigh a little sigh of disappointment. But they still smell great.

And hoenstly, there's just something about eating food in a bar that makes it taste better. I have no idea why. I couldn't begin to explain it to you. I've eaten food in beautiful restaurants with great service and not been all that impressed. And then I've eaten food in dingy, beat-down bars served by bartenders who've been ridden hard and put up wet for the better part of fifty years and I've had my metaphorical socks knocked off. There's no rhyme or reason and I honestly don't want to know why because I feel like if I did find out, it'd lose some of the allure.

I'm not a foodie. I don't wax poetic about the make up of a good Chicken Cordon Bleu or philsophize about how the importation of slaves into the Southern states laid the groundwork for a food culturee still thriving today (bene seeds--seriously, go look it up if you doubt me). I just know that when I walk into a bar and order a burger, it will be amazing, almost without fail.

Ok, so maybe that was a foodie moment. But at least it was just a little one.

Random Thursday!

First things first, congratulations to Anne for winning an advanced copy of Shades of Desire! On a side note, I have to say I love Random.org. It's awesome! Also, I need Hillary's e-mail address so I can send you your free copy of Taken.

Next--Shades of Desire goes live in the next 24 hours. That's right--the next 24 HOURS. How, you may ask? The formatting demons didn't torture me overly much for the e-book version. The print version might go differently, but I'm hoping my good luck will continue. Anyway, for those of you who didn't win the advanced copy, Shades of Desire will preview at $0.99 for the entire weekend before going full price on Monday. What does this mean? You're saving 66% this weekend. Savings! Are you excited?

Finally, check out the new look on the blog. Pretty awesome, right? It's sort of a Mardi Gras/general New Orleans theme. The picture on the left, the black and white one? It's a L.M. Pruitt original. Because I like the camera. From this side, not the other.

Ok, folks. Tomorrow we're back to Food Friday, and a special post on the beauty of bar food. Why bar food? Because tonight--is Karaoke Night at Corner Pocket! I'm excited.

Off to the writing cave!

Taken--Final Post and Giveaway

Thanks to everyone who has followed the blog tour, whether it's for one stop or for every stop. Hopefully, I've managed to both inform and entertain you along the way. Special thanks to Belinda, aka The Bookish Snob, for once again organizing an amazing tour.

I'll admit, when I sat down to write this post, I had to think long and hard on what to write about, for a variety of reasons. One--I'm dog tired. Working fifty plus hours a week will do that to you. Two--how do I close out this tour in a way that's true to Frankie and Jack?

Frankie and Jack are complex creatures. They have to be, because survival has dictated it. They've been forced to rely on their wits, their charm, and yes, their criminal skills, in order to stay one step ahead of the game. They're jaded, because you can't see the things they've seen, do the things they've done, and lived the lives they do without losing innocence.

But being jaded and complex and cynical doesn't make you hard.

Frankie and Jack still have goodness and decency in them. They made a point to go into careers where they help people, where they manage to do good. Some might say it also helped them keep an eye on the past they're running from, but those people are cynical--and I think I know Frankie and Jack better than that. They go out of their way to find the truth--not just solve a case, which can be easily accomplished--but the heart and soul of a case. And when someone they consider their own is hurt, in any way, shape or form, they go out of their way to put it right.

I've said repeatedly how much fun Frankie and Jack have been to write. Outside of one other character (who is still in the works), they've been my favorite to write. They're sure of who they are, sure of what they want, sure of how to accomplish their goals, because, at the end of the day, they're sure of each other. Moreso than either the Jude Magdalyn series or the Moon Rising series, Taken is a story built around a couple. It may be told in Frankie's voice, but it's not just Frankie's story--it belongs to Jack, too. Or it might be better to say that the story wouldn't exist without the two of them, together.

This isn't the end of their story. They have a long, bumpy row to hoe before they can have something close to a happy ever after. But at least they're in it together.

Again, thanks so much to every blogger who hosted me this tour, Belinda for her awesome organization and tour graphics, and as always, to you guys for reading/following along.

And now, as promised GIVEAWAY time!

Actually, it's DOUBLE GIVEAWAY TIME!

The first one is easy, but multiple steps. Simply:

A) Be a follower of the blog
B) "Like" L.M. Pruitt on Facebook
C) Leave a comment below

And you get a copy of Taken. That's right. As long as you do those three steps, you're guaranteed a copy of Frankie and Jack's story. But wait...there's more!

One random person, chosen through Random.org (and seriously, how cool is that site? Just sayin'), will get an advanced copy of the next Jude Magdalyn novel, Shades of Desire--four weeks early. That's right--four weeks early. Granted, it'll be rough and tumble, but it will still belong to you.

The contest--and this post--will run from today until Thursday at roughly 9 a.m. EST. Why the strange time? Because that's when I'll be near a computer again. I told you, I'm working a lot.

Ok, guys. May the best random number, i.e. commenter win--and as always, happy reading!