Vicki Batman's Blog, page 32

Handbag and Book w #Harlequin debut #author Allison B. Collins #westernromance #MFRWauthor

I set out early this past Black Friday for shopping with one goal: to find a functional, handbag that was big enough to carry my small laptop, notebooks, file folders, and all the other minutiae I need on a daily basis.
Then I saw this handbag and I slammed to a halt.  It was NOT what I was looking for. But I saw that pretty pale pink and black handbag with the girly swirls, and it called out to me. “Take me home,” it whispered, over and over again until I finally marched right up to the counter and whipped out my credit card. And now we’re living happily ever after.
 
PART SOLDIER. PART SURVIVOR.  ALL  COWBOY.

Nash Sullivan doesn’t need help from anyone. Not his father, not his brothers and sure as heck not from a physical therapist—even a darn feisty one like Kelsey Summers. He lost his leg during his overseas deployment and he just wants to be left alone. Besides, the last thing a woman like Kelsey needs is half a man.

Single mom Kelsey knows all too well that the scars on the inside run the deepest. She needs to move on from her own tragic past, but the Sullivan ranch is starting to feel a little too much like home. And she can’t stop thinking about her wounded—and gorgeous—patient. Could Nash be the cure for her own broken heart?
“You don’t seem to understand that recovery from an injury like this takes time. We can’t rush it, or we’ll be doing more harm than good,” said Kelsey.
He handed her a bottle of water and opened another for himself. “I need to get to work. I’m out of the military, so I need to earn a living.”
“Nash, please. Talk to your family. I’m sure they’ll under—”
“No. Final answer.” He opened the door. “I suppose you’re coming back tomorrow for another torture session?”
“Yes. And I’m bringing my medieval bag of tricks for you.”
Feisty. “What time shall I expect the full rack?”
 “Probably a little later than today.
Find A Family for the Rancher at: buy linkFind Allison B. Collins at: FacebookAllison, I am thrilled to have you showing off your handbag, but more importantly, your NEW BOOK!! Congratulations, my friend.

Handbag and Book: w #author Vicki Batman Like or Dislike? #recommendedreading #newmovie #newbook #RLFblog

As a single girl, I was lucky enough to attend many concerts as my roomie worked for a radio station and a friend worked for a record label. They picked up free tickets all the time and I was often a lucky recipient.
So recently, I went to a concert with Handsome, one I’d been wanting to go to for a long time. We really enjoyed ourselves and departed on a high note. As we walked outside of the venue, a concert goer yelled, “Worst concert ever.”
Amazed at his words, I stared at the guy and said, “Unbelievable.” Handsome hadn’t heard him, mostly because he is hard of hearing; so I told him. We decided the guy was drunk.
I go to some shows fairly open-minded because Handsome and I—sometimes—have different tastes (Imagine that!)
And different tastes also apply to so many things. Like my son, who grew up going to my favorite Mexican restaurant, now has decided he doesn’t like it at all.
Friends have told me they like movies. Even though I respect their opinions, sometimes, I don’t like one they recommend.
And the same for books. I remember when my book club started up and we read a highly acclaimed novel. We ended up disgusted and vowed not to read his books again.
*   *   *   *   *   *   *   

We all have differences. And that’s fine. What is a movie or concert you’ve attended and went away not impressed? What book have you disliked intensely?  Maybe YOU do like romantic comedy mysteries? You can pick up Temporarily Insane in this boxed set: Amazon 

Handbag and Book: Cozy Mystery #giveaway Jan 31-Feb 5 #readmystery #cozymystery

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Handbag and Book: #author Daryl Devore sharing #handbag and Lawbreakers #readromance #rlfblog #yoga

My handbag is really my yoga bag. I'm not a purse person. I'm a yoga person. The first gym I took yoga at had very little in yoga items. There were 2 blocks. If there were 17 people in class, that posed a problem. Slowly, I purchased items that were helpful in class (my own blocks, eye pillow, strap, knee pads). Then I changed studios and this one has a "Toy Room," with enough of whatever is needed for class. But I continued to bring mine in an old worn out denim bag. My yoga teacher purchased this for me and had it embroidered and now I carry it to class with pride. Hanging on the left side, attached to the carbineer I attach my car keys to, is a gift from another fabulous friend – it is the lotus symbol and a single word – Breathe. As if multiple planes crashes, a car accident, and a concussion isn’t enough, carefree Byn and straight-lace billionaire, Mark clash over Byn's need for independence and Mark's struggle with guilt pushing him in the opposite direction of love. When an art forger, an art thief and a ninety-year-old woman get involved the chance fortrue love for Byn and Mark fades.All is lost until a children's game is their only hope. 

All I had to do was steal a rare, red diamond. How hard could that be?
I followed the others into the Whittle Bus, took a seat and turned to look out the window. I didn't want a seat buddy. I didn't want a BFF – someone to giggle and bond with. I had a job to do. I had to keep my focus.
Especially if I wanted to live.
I stared blankly out the window, not seeing the city shift to country. Music blared from the bus's sound system. The driver turned the radio on an All 80s channel. Trying to block the music, I reviewed my evening. First, act like a meek female, not too competent or intelligent who doesn't speak English fluently. Second, pretend to be an acceptable server and deliver drinks to thirsty, rich people. Third, steal the red diamond.
Simple enough.
Find Two Truths and a Lie in Lawbreakers box set at: AmazonFind Daryl Devoré at: Website  Daryl, I go to yoga, too, and don't carry such a nice bag like yours. When I first began, I used a large plastic bag I'd purchased at a flea market and still use it. Maybe one day, I'll get fancy...

Handbag & Book: Cozy Mystery #Giveaway Jan 31-Feb 5 #mysterylover #cozymystery

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Handbag and Book: #author Jasper Trey-Not just one bag #readromance #RLFblog

I don't carry just one bag, but why would I carry more than one at a time you might ask? The reasoning is simple, one afternoon I stopped on a doctor show and it was talking about how your handbag shouldn’t be more than 5 pounds. The show talked about how most women were carrying around these 10 or more pound bags everywhere and how bad it was for the back. I took the hint and downsized. (Confession: I could carry a small purse, as I also had a diaper bag to carry everything else! lol).  Fast forward a few years and with no need for diaper bag anymore, I walked into Target. And fell in love with this bag. So now I carry a small purse inside of my big purse, so I can look minimalist at times, but really I’m not. (PS I’m actually carrying two small purses in this big purse.)   Olivia is waiting to laugh. Dante is waiting to love. Together they can live.     Dante turned the page of the sci-fi novel he’d checked out from the resort library. He 'd chosen it because it seemed an easy read, but the curvy brunette in the red bikini sidling up to the beach bar was winning the battle for his attention. He tried once again to concentrate on the book in front of him.The beer filled his view shortly before the bronzed, bikini-clad body did. The beer slowly crossed his vision to be set on the table next to his chair. Then, with the grace of a yogi, the red bikini braced her hands on the arms of his chair and straddled his lap, ending with her mouth a scant half inch from his own. He could feel her breath on his lips, and was on the verge of closing that last half inch.“I hear this is what you are drinking,” Bikini said, snapping Dante back to reality, and to the woman standing in front of him holding a couple of beers.He really needed help if he was imagining strangers straddling him. He was really grateful to the book, as it hid his instant reaction to the thought of her straddling him.Red Bikini continued. “I figured it was going to be Corona, and I’d have to decline the staff’s request to bring it over. But since it’s German, well, that shows good taste.” The smile she gave him was slightly crooked, but Dante thought it seemed genuine. He reached for the beer. “This will let me show the staff I can play nice,” she said. “Mind if I sit down?” Watching her from behind his mirrored aviators, he gestured with the beer toward the seat next to his. As she turned to sit, he tried as discreetly as possible to adjust the hard on that his little fantasy brought on. But the slight smile she sent him as she sat and rested her elbows on her knees, let him know she had noticed.  Find Olivia at: AmazonFind Jasper Trey at:  Website

Handbag and Book: #author Karilyn Bentley sharing a #christmasgift #romance #readromance

This cute little brown Donald J Pliner purse was a Christmas gift from my sister-in-law several years ago. I love it because it's small and is perfect for evenings out. It holds credit cards, lipstick, and my phone. Cute and functional! Just my style! 
A demon attack…  Reeling from a personal tragedy and abandoned by all she loves, the world's newest demon huntress, Gin Crawford, sinks into a deep despair. She’s forced back to reality by news of a large number of people committing suicide, all on the same night. Suspecting demon involvement, Gin must work with her sexy but estranged mentor Aidan Smythe to track who, or what, is behind the deaths. Leads to a new discovery… As they come closer to finding the culprit, they realize their employer, the Agency, is hiding its own secret, one which threatens Gin's very existence. New discoveries reveal that even those dedicated to eradicating evil can be bought. Can Gin and Smythe forgive each other and work together or will they fall under the demon's thrall?      A vision of an auburn-haired man dressed in dark trousers and a gray button-down, appears in my head. He sits on my closed toilet lid, watching me sleep in the full tub, watching as my head slides closer to the waterline.      It must be a dream. How else can I be asleep and still see the bathroom, my sleeping self and the man? A dream. Only a dream. His voice is nothing more than my imaginings.      And yet I feel the need to answer. To deny his words.      I’m not listening to you. I make an effort to rebuke the voice, refusing to take what it offers, refusing to admit its enticing pull.      Oh, but you are. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze firmly affixed to my face. You contemplate my words. You seek the rest only I can give.      Yeah, right. Not buying it, buster. Although I’m starting to want what he offers. I’ll never admit it to Mystery Man. What can a figment of my imagination really do?      I am not a figment. He smiles, his lips pulling away from straight, white teeth.      Despite the warm water, a chill runs down my spine. He holds out his hand.      Come. Take my hand. Rest. Leave your problems behind.  Find Devil Take Me at: Amazon  Find Karilyn Bentley at: Website

Handbag and Book with #author Sandra Tilley: My purse is my lifeline #readromance #accessories #fashion

All Purses Are Not Created Equal A purse is a handbag is a pocketbook? Whatever you call yours, I maintain that it is more than a mere receptacle or even a fashion statement. My purse is my lifeline. Along with my iPhone which is always inside my purse… in addition to wallet, credit cards, business cards, checkbook, writing paraphernalia, cosmetics, medication, hand sanitizer, snacks, dental floss, and sometimes my favorite beverage–a Diet Coke. I carry my purse wherever I go. Maybe not as close to the body as Queen Elizabeth. But then, I prefer a shoulder strap to handles. Inside my purse is the essence of Sandra Tilley. And I don't leave my purse behind. Ever. All purses, however, are not created equal. Recently I attended a college football game, and in keeping with the school's tight security policy, I was strongly encouraged to carry a small, see-through handbag. Although my husband suggested a zip-lock bag, I purchased a small, tacky plastic purse, opting for a shoulder bag instead of a clutch. I set aside the things I could function without for a few hours, and then I crammed in as many of my necessities as the transparent substitute could hold. I slung the strap over my shoulder and headed out the door, tossing a quick glance into the foyer mirror. I sucked in a breath and stopped cold. Gripping my purse to my body, I stared at my reflection. The clear, plastic handbag revealed the uncensored and unplugged version of the person that is uniquely me. I felt naked. I'd exposed my character and inclinations to the world! Everyone could see the tiny bottle of Excedrin wedged in place by lip gloss and hand sanitizer. A comb, as important as my wallet, squeezed in next to a notebook and pen. And behind orange-flavored Tic-Tacs, lay my adolescent obsession: Hubba Bubba bubblegum. To anyone with eyes, my vanity, my concern with germs, my fear of bad breath and pain, not to mention my love of not just any bubble gum but Hubba Bubba, were not only showcased for the world to see, but glowed like a beacon of embarrassment. The see-through handbag was like a window into my psyche, revealing the real me that I hide inside leather. Sometimes expensive and usually black leather. I love designer handbags, and nothing is as sweet as swinging my black leather Coach bag on my shoulder. Wittingly or not, we writers infuse bits of ourselves (and our purses?) into our writing. In my debut novel The Ghost and Mrs. Miller , the word purse is mentioned 26 times. And my favorite black Coach handbag plays a major part in a scene in my current WIP Live Bait.    His rank breath reached me before his slurred words. “Let’s dance.” Mid-stroke of applying lip gloss to my bottom lip, he yanked my arm. I toppled off the bar stool and smashed against his slim body. Nicotine laced with alcohol reeked from his clothes and skin. I flinched and backed out of his aroma range. I hopped back onto my stool and wiped lip gloss from my cheek. “No thanks.” I grabbed my purse from the bar and deposited my lip gloss. He cocked his head, and long blond strands swooped to the side.  “You think you’re too good to dance with me?”   I turned my back and flipped my hair. “I don’t think I’m too good. I think I’m too sober.” Steely fingers gripped my shoulder and whirled me around.  He leaned in close. Close enough to see jagged red lines in his blood-shot eyes. “Don’t turn your back on me, bitch.”  His voice, measured and low, rang of raw, controlled fury. I clutched my purse to my chest. Trapped between rage and the solid oak bar, I searched for an exit. The last thing I wanted was to make a scene. If he were sober, I might be able to negotiate. But he hadn't seen sober in a while. “Don’t touch me again.” Fear steeped my words in bravado. “Furthermore, you don’t know me well enough to call me a bitch.” His hand zipped past my face and slapped the bar. I recoiled. And then in one smooth motion, I drew back my purse as far as I could and swung my Coach bag with both hands. The leather rocket caught him under the chin. I squeezed into a ball and braced for retaliation.  Nothing.Cautiously, I opened one eye. On the floor, the drunk lay in a heap.My nurse instincts kicked in. Still clutching my purse, I leapt from my bar stool and knelt down. I put my ear to the drunk’s face to make sure he was breathing. One of the many FloraBama’s security guys crouched beside me. “Want me to call the cops?”A crowd gathered around us. The security guy wore a red t-shirt with the FloraBama logo Do it on the Line stretched across his swoon-worthy chest. A manic giggle escaped my lips. I wondered if the drunk was lying on the Florida or the Alabama side of the line.Concentrate. The man on the floor needed me. "No need to call the cops." I tossed my purse aside and lifted his eyelids. They were dilated equally—a good sign.The security guard spread his arms wide to the gawkers. “Back up folks.” My victim's eyelids flickered, and someone in the crowd shouted, “He’s coming around.” The drunk put his hand to his chin. “What’d you slug me with?”“Just my purse.” I held it up for him to see.“What you got in that thing? A brick?”“Don’t be ridiculous.” I pulled a can from my bag. “Just a Diet Coke.” 
Thank you, Vicki, for allowing me to share my love of purses and showing how I use them in my writing. Don't think I'll ever find the opportunity to write about my heroine using a see-through, plastic purse. But never say never. 
Find THE GHOST AND MRS. MILLER  on:  Amazon          Find Sandra Tilley at:   Website   Sandra, I'm impressed with your little handbag. I've never had a clear one. I did go to an event and we were told only to carry a six x eight inch bag. That was tiny!

Handbag and Book: A different color #handbag #readromance #RLFblog #MFRWauthor

I don't think I've shown this bag before. I absolutely love it. I love the fuchsia pink (have I said how much I like pink?). The sassy matching handle. The fact it is made from felt.

Felt? That's right-felt. Nifty, right? 

I don't carry it as an every day bag as it doesn't seem like one. And I really should make a reinforcement bottom piece if I do.

It is styled like a Kelly bag-which is a style I adore.  I found it on ETSy. I know, not surprising as I buy lots of bags off ETSY. The only issue is it could be bigger. I should road test it some more.

By the way, my funny heroine in my romantic comedy mysteries shares my love of handbags. Want to know more? Check out:
 Amazon

Hattie Cooks takes a job at an accounting firm where mishaps and murders are definitely fishy.


Do you prefer fabric or leather or vinyl handbags? 

Handbag and Book with #author Vicki Batman : Thoughts on #bumperstickers #readromance #cars

Recently, I bought a new car, a really, really nice one. (Thank you, Handsome!) In doing so, I had to leave something behind--my bumper stickers. I had:
 
A small one from my university
One supporting our library
Colorado with the elevation

So when Handsome and I stood at the back end, looking over the car's lovely lines, I mentioned to him how he could gift me at Christmas replacement stickers. He said very, very loudly, "NO!"
 
"Why not?" I asked.
 
"You don't put bumper stickers on this car." He shook his head. "Not ever."
 
I crossed my arms. "But it is my car."
 
"No." He stomped off.
 
"Okay, fine," I grumbled to myself. "It's not like I would cover the whole tailgate." And I wouldn't have.
 
I spend time in my car and lots of time sitting at stop lights and staring at other cars rear ends. Of course, I notice bumper stickers. Some I have recently viewed are:
 
Political
Schools-all kinds
The peeing kid (enough already)
Business ads
Religious
The cute stick figure stickers of mom, dad, kids, pets
How's my driving?
My dog is a _______________
Amusement park

And other colorful ones. In case you wondered, here's a thought:
  Do you have bumper stickers on your car? Are you anti-bumper stickers? Do you have a memorable one?   Not a bumper sticker, but tons of fun: Amazon