Cherie Noel's Blog, page 36
November 10, 2011
Thursday Think Tank: Pen Names and other Affectations
Good Afternoon, gentle readers.Er, or whatever time it is when you finally see this post.
I have a few things to say today that may piss some of you off. That's the warning. I do try to keep things light here, because...well, this is entertainment. Not therapy. Except today it's a fairly irritated rant.
In light of that, and some other supposed "scandals" going on I just need to get some stuff off my chest.
First of all, my readers are welcome and even encouraged to get off on my CHARACTERS. Hell yes, get stroke happy with Christie and Robert, Neil, Kevin and Tony, or any of the others I write about.
But do not confuse authors with their characters. Leave them the fuck out of it, unless you know them personally. By that I mean you've actually met in RL and have a close personal relationship.
Just sayin.
And heh, I know it's shocking, but just for a moment imagine that authors want to make a living. Is there something wrong with that? I'm pretty sure that all of us have a need to eat, have shelter, etc. So we need to have a way to make money to buy those things....and some of us have Evil Day Jobs, and some of us don't, and some of those day jobs are ones that would be DESTROYED if our real life names got linked to our pen names. It's not a new thing for authors to use pen names.
I know for a fact that some authors practice law, or work as education specialists...and they could lose their jobs if they went public with their professions. Should we dig into their lives to prove or disprove he/she/they have an authentic knowledge of law were he/she/they to write a series about lawyers? Cause him/her/them to lose their job because the rabid and misguided chose to expose him/her/them for some imagined duplicity?I don't know. Do you want the entirety of your life held up to a microscope? Am I, as a woman writing M/M romance about soldiers (as a former soldier) somehow less authentic than a gay man (never been a soldier) writing about the same trope? I don't think so. If we both do good research and write well, that's all that matters, cause seriously people, this stuff is FICTION.
Frankly?
I don't think I owe my fans a damn thing except a ripping good read. They don't get automatic rights to my personal life and whom I do or do not fuck, nor which body part I use to do so. I'm not writing a autobiography. I'm writing fiction, and my family and friends? Are unequivocally off limits.Remember, before you go prying into authors personal lives, that you are culpable for the fruits of that prying. There are people who may lose their jobs, the jobs that have nothing to do with writing because of your "need" to have them live under a microscope. There are authors out there who live in countries where they can be put into prison for writing erotica at all, let alone M/M erotica/romance. There are authors who have Real Life issues crashing down on them to the point that they become depressed, even suicidal. And if you chose to dig into their lives, poke around with the sticks of your belief that you have some sort of right to be privy to their personal life? You are culpable in what happens.
I'm pretty open about who I am. But should one of my readers or business associates from the writing world cross the line and start tap dancing into forbidden territory? Attempting to impose their ideals of what I should or should not do in my private life, up to and including the measures I may take to keep said life private? I fight dirty. And I will come after them.
Hemmingway didn't know shit about being female. Nobody says don't buy his books because he wrote female characters. They may say he doesn't write women well, and that's valid. If I get the sex wrong, feel free to say I screwed the pooch *figure of speech there* as an author...But do not say something can't happen just cause it never happened to you. If I wrote it I researched it first, either through first hand experience or by asking *1st person interviews*...it happened that way for somebody.
If you don't like my writing, don't buy it. Easy Peasy, Lemon Squeezy.
If you like it, buy it.
Yeah, I said it.
So...
If you don't like the economy, bitch about that.
But don't say I as a writer am not allowed to make a decent living because the economy has made money tight for you as a reader. Shit, my grocery bill went up too.
Yeah, random ranting now.
But maybe some stuff to think about.
November 5, 2011
Saturday Snark: Escaping MommyLand
So...here I am Saturday nearly gone, working at one of my weekly Mommy tasks. Getting the kidlet's school clothes clean for the week.Woo-hoo, right?Great fun.
*Oh, you can see me rolling my eyes? Er, sorry.*
I get the whole Mommy thing. No, really, I get it. It's cool to have a little lump of clay that one can mold and shape into a future leader of the world...or, say, a highly thought of McDonald's employee.
But in the midst of the rush to line up the perfect schedule of activities to help the cute little parasite transform into a productive member of society who is sucking anyone else's blood but mine, I have lost nearly FOUR DAYS.
During NaNoWriMo at that.
Grr.
Yeah, yeah, love being a mom, yada, yada, yah.
Love the kidlet.
She's too damn cute to kill.
So, the important thing to focus on here becomes how the hell do I escape form Mommy Land long enough to flipping writing done?
I mean, really?
Well...
I'm writing in the Laundromat. I'm writing on the toilet.Er, hopefully my writing will smell more of the former and less of the latter.
And, if not?
Well, I can always just flush the shitty words and keep the good ones.
Yeah?
*Oh, you can see me rolling my eyes? Er, sorry.*
I get the whole Mommy thing. No, really, I get it. It's cool to have a little lump of clay that one can mold and shape into a future leader of the world...or, say, a highly thought of McDonald's employee.
But in the midst of the rush to line up the perfect schedule of activities to help the cute little parasite transform into a productive member of society who is sucking anyone else's blood but mine, I have lost nearly FOUR DAYS.
During NaNoWriMo at that.
Grr.
Yeah, yeah, love being a mom, yada, yada, yah.
Love the kidlet.
She's too damn cute to kill.
So, the important thing to focus on here becomes how the hell do I escape form Mommy Land long enough to flipping writing done?
I mean, really?
Well...
I'm writing in the Laundromat. I'm writing on the toilet.Er, hopefully my writing will smell more of the former and less of the latter.
And, if not?
Well, I can always just flush the shitty words and keep the good ones.
Yeah?
November 4, 2011
While You Wait...
Here's something luscious to look at.
This is ***well, prolly better to name no names, right?***
Er, we'll call him the Lollipop Man for obvious reasons...Lick at will.
This is ***well, prolly better to name no names, right?***
Er, we'll call him the Lollipop Man for obvious reasons...Lick at will.
Regarding the Friday Flash
Keep your damn pants on!
I'm having technical difficulties.
You know, like I'm a wildly disorganized ***bleep*** and I haven't gotten around to writing it yet, so I have to get on the dick...er, stick, and churn.
*shakes head*
Get your minds out of the freaking gutter.
I mean churn out the WORDS!
Heh.
That's my story.
I'm sticking to it too.
I'll be back later today to Flash you.
*smooches*
I'm having technical difficulties.
You know, like I'm a wildly disorganized ***bleep*** and I haven't gotten around to writing it yet, so I have to get on the dick...er, stick, and churn.
*shakes head*
Get your minds out of the freaking gutter.
I mean churn out the WORDS!
Heh.
That's my story.
I'm sticking to it too.
I'll be back later today to Flash you.
*smooches*
November 3, 2011
Thursday Think Tank: Write, for the Night is Coming
Write, for the night is coming, babies.
Write, for the life you uplift may be your own.
Write, for the joy you give may never be known to you, yet may be the world to another lost soul.
Write, write, write.
The words may never mean a thing.
They may touch the hearts of a thousand generations.
Write because you must, and write because you can.
Write about what you know and write about what you long to learn.
And babies?
Take a kiss from me, and know you have shelter here in my Writing Cave.
If you stop in and I'm not home?
Relax.
Light the fire.
Make yourself a drink *I have top shelf of all your favorite brands, lol* or brew up a little gourmet java.
I only ever ask that you play nicely.
If you don't?
I'll be disappointed.
I'll wonder why you waste your time being mean.
I'll reach out to those you seek to harm and drawn them into my fold of friends, and baby, we are legion.
So write a rainbow for yourself today.
Write a bird on the wing.
Write a happy ending to your own sad story.
And laugh, babies, laugh for joy.
It's what I'm going to do.
Write, for the life you uplift may be your own.
Write, for the joy you give may never be known to you, yet may be the world to another lost soul.
Write, write, write.
The words may never mean a thing.
They may touch the hearts of a thousand generations.
Write because you must, and write because you can.
Write about what you know and write about what you long to learn.
And babies?
Take a kiss from me, and know you have shelter here in my Writing Cave.
If you stop in and I'm not home?
Relax.
Light the fire.
Make yourself a drink *I have top shelf of all your favorite brands, lol* or brew up a little gourmet java.
I only ever ask that you play nicely.
If you don't?
I'll be disappointed.
I'll wonder why you waste your time being mean.
I'll reach out to those you seek to harm and drawn them into my fold of friends, and baby, we are legion.
So write a rainbow for yourself today.
Write a bird on the wing.
Write a happy ending to your own sad story.
And laugh, babies, laugh for joy.
It's what I'm going to do.
November 2, 2011
Work in Progress Wednesday-An Excerpt from My French Quarter Quartet
An unedited Excerpt from the first of my French Quarter Quartet:
Angel Baby
When Angel walked into the bar the very first thing he saw was the bear of a man standing behind three feet of wood while he slung drinks. He had nearly a foot on Angel, shoulders that looked about a mile wide and a broad, furry chest visible through the vee of his tee shirt's neck. Angel could easily envision snuggling into lovely that rug on a cold northern night. Hell, he could easily envision melting all over those big muscles on a steamy hot New Orleans night exactly like tonight.The bartender glanced up. Still slinging drinks to customers on every side of the roughly triangular bar with a rapid fire accuracy which could only stem from what had to be many years in the business, he flashed a smile of surprising sweetness Angel's way and growled out a generic welcome to the bar.Entranced by both the gravelly voice and the sure, strong motions of the man's broad palms and meaty, square tipped fingers, Angel failed to notice him moving closer. When the man spoke right next to Angel's ear, therefore, it was quite a shock. "Hey there gorgeous, what can I get for you?"Angel jerked back, heart hammering. He glanced to his left and then to his right. Everyone around him had drinks already, so this man, this big cuddly bear who surely looked like every one of Angel's teenaged wet dreams brought to living, breathing, oh mama-pulsating life was talking to him.Shit. Angel had no idea where the friends he'd come out with had wandered off to, or he'd take off with a muttered apology. He wasn't shy. Not exactly. In fits and startsyes, of course he knew he was wonderful…just. No one else ever seemed to get that. Especially men that looked like this."Sweetheart, do you want something to drink?"A glint of mischief had entered the big bartender's pale blue eyes. His glance roved across Angel's body, skating over his collarbones like a physical touch, ghosting across his pecs to barely scrape his nipples.Angel sucked in a breath."I w-want. Um."Angel cleared his throat."I'll take a cosmopolitan. That sounds good."The sweet grin stretched a little wider across the burly man's stubble covered face. He winked at Angel and didn't say another word. Angel knew he was thinking a lot of things might sound good falling from Angel's lips. His gaze had zeroed in on Angel's lips, flitted up to his eyes and then—Shit. His eyes.Why had he let Sam talk him into wearing eyeliner? That girl got him into more trouble. Here he was, wandering around the French Quarter on his own, and probably doing it looking like a high priced rent-boy. No wonder the hot bartender—"Here's your drink, baby."Angel's eyes jerked up from where they'd been stuck on those thick fingers. He could almost feel them trailing down his back.And heaven above they felt good, but—"Angel. My name is Angel."The bartender tipped his head to one side, his eyes sliding half-shut. A smirk tipped one corner of his mouth up."Pull up a stool then, Angel, baby. I'm Gem."Angel bit his lip. Baby? Not a moniker he liked applied to him. Just because he was a little short they all wanted to call him baby."Listen, Jim."Angel realized he was talking with his hands again when Jim's eyes dropped to the top of the bar. The bartender started shaking his head. "No. Not J-i-m."He finger spelled slowly. "It's G-e-m. Now, don't you go laughing at my momma. She said I was too precious for an ordinary name, and that I wasn't common like gold, so she named me Gem."Gem's deep voice resonated right into Angel's chest, slipping in like shards of sunfire, melting in through his flesh and winding round his bones, branding him from the inside out. A shiver grabbed the base of his spine, shaking until it felt as if his vertebrae clacked against one another. Angel squeezed his eyes shut."Angel, baby, are you okay?"One big finger tapped gently against the back of Angel's right hand. His eyes eased open, and he fell into the cool blue depths of his future."Yeah, Gem, I'm okay. It's just been awhile since anyone knew what I was saying with my hands. You caught me off guard there."A shout from across the bar tore Gem's attention away. A sweet faced brunet with the most pinchable cheeks Angel had seen in some time was waving his glass at Gem. His big brown eyes were limpdly imploring as he mouthed the words "another round" while discreetly pointing to his companions nearly empty glass. Angel smiled. His girl Sam had pushed those two together a few minutes ago, if he wasn't mistaken. Yep. There was her curly blond mass of hair bobbing out of the back of the bar, a cheesy grin on her face as she made a hooking motion with her fingers. The grin faltered for a moment as she wobbled on her tall heels.Angel snorted.He'd told her not to wear those shoes. Sam caught him making a face and shook her finger at him as she rounded the corner of the bar."No making fun of my shoes mister!"Angel rolled his eyes."Sam. Honey. Why would anyone mock you for wearing four inch heels out for a night of drinking in the French Quarter—with their famously uneven streets and sidewalks?"Angel asked the question in his very best deadpan voice. He could not, however, prevent the corners of his eyes from crinkling up. Sam sniffed."Fine. Be that way. I was going to invite you upstairs to lick the yummy strippers with me, but if you're going to make fun of my beautiful red pumps…"They both paused to glance down at what they affectionately referred to as Sam's "fuck-me" pumps. Fire engine red with ridiculously high stiletto heels, they were truly works of art."If you're gonna be like that—I'll lick them all on my own!"Sam winked at him, and pretended to flounce off in a huff. Angel saw Gem approaching just as she made her faux wickedly mad exit, so he knew what she was up to. Hussy.She really was trouble on two legs. And had undoubtedly caught him drooling over Gem. Wait a minute. Sam had come here last night. She. Oh, she really was a hussy, and she was in a very deep pot of boiling water. She'd seen Gem and picked him out for Angel. Angel ground his teeth together.If that didn't make him feel pathetic, he didn't know what would.He was perfectly capable of finding a man on his own.Sam stepped onto the first stair leading up to the level where the strippers were performing. She winked at him over her shoulder, gave a little finger wave and scampered upwards on her tip-toes, disappearing in a matter of seconds. She was a dead woman."Angel, baby, what's put that frown on your pretty face?"A wave of pure longing swept through Angel at the sound of Gem's gravel filled growl. Heat pooled low in his groin, and his cock firmed enough to begin pressing against the zipper of his stylish black jeans. Gem turned the heat up farther by reaching out to run a finger along the bike chain necklace around Angel's neck. All moisture left Angel's mouth between one beat of his heart and the next. He raised his martini glass quickly, and slammed back the remainder of his sweet pink drink. Gem raised one eyebrow in an eloquent silent query."Ah. My friend is being…difficult."Gem's face pinched up."You're here with someone?"Angel sighed. This was the other thing that always happened. They always thought he was bi-sexual, and trying to cheat on Sam. Or that Sam was a guy. Well, not when she dressed up, but in normal clothes? With her slim hips and square chin she looked like a really beautiful boy. "Yeah, I'm here with my best friend Sam. She just went upstairs to lick strippers."Angel's voice couldn't be any flatter. Sam would be lucky if he ever went out with her again. Well, okay, that was a lie.But he might make her suffer for at least two weeks by herself. Once they got back home to New York.There had to be some kind of rule about how long you could ignore a bff when they wouldn't stop screwing with your love life.Gem shook his head."I—I'm not sure I even want to know what just went through your head, but based on that expression it was a doozy of a thought. Do you need another drink?"A wry smile slid across Angel's face."Yeah, that would be great."Gem grinned, a dimple popping up in his left cheek.Angel's heart skipped, stuttered and then slammed back into motion. Gem raised his eyebrows high, laughter dancing in the blue depths of his eyes. Angel's cheeks heated. "You know exactly what I was just thinking, don't you?"Gem's smile went mega-watt bright for a second, then eased back down into the gentle sweetness that had drawn Angel at first."I think I have a pretty good idea."Angel's stomach drew into a tight ball at his center. Damn his expressive face. He felt like a clown among the hearing, and yet somehow always too wooden and closed off at home and with his friends from home. Except Sam. "Yeah, I bet you do."Gem laid his big hand over Angel's dancing fingers."It all looked very good to me."Angel glanced up to find Gem leaning in toward him. His stubbled cheek brushed against Angel's smooth jaw."You're something else Angel, baby. I just met you and I can already tell."This close Angel could smell every nuance of Gem's scent, something sweet, vanilla, and a spicy musk. He clenched his teeth to keep from standing on the rungs of his barstool and biting the big bartenders shoulder. Gem's voice continued to rumble in his ear."God. You make me wish I wasn't married."A beat of time passed where everything seemed frozen, then time crashed around Angel like a tidal wave."Married?"Angel's gaze narrowed in on Gem's mouth.Not only had the sound seemed to go away, but the shapes the big bartender's mouth was making didn't seem to make any sense either. Angel half fell off his bar stool. He scrambled for a plausible excuse to leave right then. Then he remembered. He'd just met this man. He didn't owe him a damn thing except to pay his tab and leave a decent tip.Right."Thanks for the Cosmo. It was great. Can I settle the tab up?"Stupid.He was so stupid.He didn't know this man.There was no reason to feel as though his chest had a huge hole in it, no reason to feel like he was bleeding all over the fucking floor. Sure the guy was hot. So were at least twenty other guys Angel had seen tonight. Gem gave him a puzzled look along with his credit card slip.Angel smiled.Coolly.Politely.And then he hauled his ass up the stairs to Sam as fast as his legs would carry him.For fuck's sake, did he have slice on the side tattooed on his forehead? At the top of the stairs Angel paused to gather his overwrought emotions into a tidy bundle before he crushed them into a tiny box at the back of his mind. If he raced over to Sam all flustered she'd go into protective mode and fly back down the stairs to rip Gem a new asshole.From the way their encounter had ended, Angel would guess that Gem already had plenty of asshole to go around.
Angel Baby
When Angel walked into the bar the very first thing he saw was the bear of a man standing behind three feet of wood while he slung drinks. He had nearly a foot on Angel, shoulders that looked about a mile wide and a broad, furry chest visible through the vee of his tee shirt's neck. Angel could easily envision snuggling into lovely that rug on a cold northern night. Hell, he could easily envision melting all over those big muscles on a steamy hot New Orleans night exactly like tonight.The bartender glanced up. Still slinging drinks to customers on every side of the roughly triangular bar with a rapid fire accuracy which could only stem from what had to be many years in the business, he flashed a smile of surprising sweetness Angel's way and growled out a generic welcome to the bar.Entranced by both the gravelly voice and the sure, strong motions of the man's broad palms and meaty, square tipped fingers, Angel failed to notice him moving closer. When the man spoke right next to Angel's ear, therefore, it was quite a shock. "Hey there gorgeous, what can I get for you?"Angel jerked back, heart hammering. He glanced to his left and then to his right. Everyone around him had drinks already, so this man, this big cuddly bear who surely looked like every one of Angel's teenaged wet dreams brought to living, breathing, oh mama-pulsating life was talking to him.Shit. Angel had no idea where the friends he'd come out with had wandered off to, or he'd take off with a muttered apology. He wasn't shy. Not exactly. In fits and startsyes, of course he knew he was wonderful…just. No one else ever seemed to get that. Especially men that looked like this."Sweetheart, do you want something to drink?"A glint of mischief had entered the big bartender's pale blue eyes. His glance roved across Angel's body, skating over his collarbones like a physical touch, ghosting across his pecs to barely scrape his nipples.Angel sucked in a breath."I w-want. Um."Angel cleared his throat."I'll take a cosmopolitan. That sounds good."The sweet grin stretched a little wider across the burly man's stubble covered face. He winked at Angel and didn't say another word. Angel knew he was thinking a lot of things might sound good falling from Angel's lips. His gaze had zeroed in on Angel's lips, flitted up to his eyes and then—Shit. His eyes.Why had he let Sam talk him into wearing eyeliner? That girl got him into more trouble. Here he was, wandering around the French Quarter on his own, and probably doing it looking like a high priced rent-boy. No wonder the hot bartender—"Here's your drink, baby."Angel's eyes jerked up from where they'd been stuck on those thick fingers. He could almost feel them trailing down his back.And heaven above they felt good, but—"Angel. My name is Angel."The bartender tipped his head to one side, his eyes sliding half-shut. A smirk tipped one corner of his mouth up."Pull up a stool then, Angel, baby. I'm Gem."Angel bit his lip. Baby? Not a moniker he liked applied to him. Just because he was a little short they all wanted to call him baby."Listen, Jim."Angel realized he was talking with his hands again when Jim's eyes dropped to the top of the bar. The bartender started shaking his head. "No. Not J-i-m."He finger spelled slowly. "It's G-e-m. Now, don't you go laughing at my momma. She said I was too precious for an ordinary name, and that I wasn't common like gold, so she named me Gem."Gem's deep voice resonated right into Angel's chest, slipping in like shards of sunfire, melting in through his flesh and winding round his bones, branding him from the inside out. A shiver grabbed the base of his spine, shaking until it felt as if his vertebrae clacked against one another. Angel squeezed his eyes shut."Angel, baby, are you okay?"One big finger tapped gently against the back of Angel's right hand. His eyes eased open, and he fell into the cool blue depths of his future."Yeah, Gem, I'm okay. It's just been awhile since anyone knew what I was saying with my hands. You caught me off guard there."A shout from across the bar tore Gem's attention away. A sweet faced brunet with the most pinchable cheeks Angel had seen in some time was waving his glass at Gem. His big brown eyes were limpdly imploring as he mouthed the words "another round" while discreetly pointing to his companions nearly empty glass. Angel smiled. His girl Sam had pushed those two together a few minutes ago, if he wasn't mistaken. Yep. There was her curly blond mass of hair bobbing out of the back of the bar, a cheesy grin on her face as she made a hooking motion with her fingers. The grin faltered for a moment as she wobbled on her tall heels.Angel snorted.He'd told her not to wear those shoes. Sam caught him making a face and shook her finger at him as she rounded the corner of the bar."No making fun of my shoes mister!"Angel rolled his eyes."Sam. Honey. Why would anyone mock you for wearing four inch heels out for a night of drinking in the French Quarter—with their famously uneven streets and sidewalks?"Angel asked the question in his very best deadpan voice. He could not, however, prevent the corners of his eyes from crinkling up. Sam sniffed."Fine. Be that way. I was going to invite you upstairs to lick the yummy strippers with me, but if you're going to make fun of my beautiful red pumps…"They both paused to glance down at what they affectionately referred to as Sam's "fuck-me" pumps. Fire engine red with ridiculously high stiletto heels, they were truly works of art."If you're gonna be like that—I'll lick them all on my own!"Sam winked at him, and pretended to flounce off in a huff. Angel saw Gem approaching just as she made her faux wickedly mad exit, so he knew what she was up to. Hussy.She really was trouble on two legs. And had undoubtedly caught him drooling over Gem. Wait a minute. Sam had come here last night. She. Oh, she really was a hussy, and she was in a very deep pot of boiling water. She'd seen Gem and picked him out for Angel. Angel ground his teeth together.If that didn't make him feel pathetic, he didn't know what would.He was perfectly capable of finding a man on his own.Sam stepped onto the first stair leading up to the level where the strippers were performing. She winked at him over her shoulder, gave a little finger wave and scampered upwards on her tip-toes, disappearing in a matter of seconds. She was a dead woman."Angel, baby, what's put that frown on your pretty face?"A wave of pure longing swept through Angel at the sound of Gem's gravel filled growl. Heat pooled low in his groin, and his cock firmed enough to begin pressing against the zipper of his stylish black jeans. Gem turned the heat up farther by reaching out to run a finger along the bike chain necklace around Angel's neck. All moisture left Angel's mouth between one beat of his heart and the next. He raised his martini glass quickly, and slammed back the remainder of his sweet pink drink. Gem raised one eyebrow in an eloquent silent query."Ah. My friend is being…difficult."Gem's face pinched up."You're here with someone?"Angel sighed. This was the other thing that always happened. They always thought he was bi-sexual, and trying to cheat on Sam. Or that Sam was a guy. Well, not when she dressed up, but in normal clothes? With her slim hips and square chin she looked like a really beautiful boy. "Yeah, I'm here with my best friend Sam. She just went upstairs to lick strippers."Angel's voice couldn't be any flatter. Sam would be lucky if he ever went out with her again. Well, okay, that was a lie.But he might make her suffer for at least two weeks by herself. Once they got back home to New York.There had to be some kind of rule about how long you could ignore a bff when they wouldn't stop screwing with your love life.Gem shook his head."I—I'm not sure I even want to know what just went through your head, but based on that expression it was a doozy of a thought. Do you need another drink?"A wry smile slid across Angel's face."Yeah, that would be great."Gem grinned, a dimple popping up in his left cheek.Angel's heart skipped, stuttered and then slammed back into motion. Gem raised his eyebrows high, laughter dancing in the blue depths of his eyes. Angel's cheeks heated. "You know exactly what I was just thinking, don't you?"Gem's smile went mega-watt bright for a second, then eased back down into the gentle sweetness that had drawn Angel at first."I think I have a pretty good idea."Angel's stomach drew into a tight ball at his center. Damn his expressive face. He felt like a clown among the hearing, and yet somehow always too wooden and closed off at home and with his friends from home. Except Sam. "Yeah, I bet you do."Gem laid his big hand over Angel's dancing fingers."It all looked very good to me."Angel glanced up to find Gem leaning in toward him. His stubbled cheek brushed against Angel's smooth jaw."You're something else Angel, baby. I just met you and I can already tell."This close Angel could smell every nuance of Gem's scent, something sweet, vanilla, and a spicy musk. He clenched his teeth to keep from standing on the rungs of his barstool and biting the big bartenders shoulder. Gem's voice continued to rumble in his ear."God. You make me wish I wasn't married."A beat of time passed where everything seemed frozen, then time crashed around Angel like a tidal wave."Married?"Angel's gaze narrowed in on Gem's mouth.Not only had the sound seemed to go away, but the shapes the big bartender's mouth was making didn't seem to make any sense either. Angel half fell off his bar stool. He scrambled for a plausible excuse to leave right then. Then he remembered. He'd just met this man. He didn't owe him a damn thing except to pay his tab and leave a decent tip.Right."Thanks for the Cosmo. It was great. Can I settle the tab up?"Stupid.He was so stupid.He didn't know this man.There was no reason to feel as though his chest had a huge hole in it, no reason to feel like he was bleeding all over the fucking floor. Sure the guy was hot. So were at least twenty other guys Angel had seen tonight. Gem gave him a puzzled look along with his credit card slip.Angel smiled.Coolly.Politely.And then he hauled his ass up the stairs to Sam as fast as his legs would carry him.For fuck's sake, did he have slice on the side tattooed on his forehead? At the top of the stairs Angel paused to gather his overwrought emotions into a tidy bundle before he crushed them into a tiny box at the back of his mind. If he raced over to Sam all flustered she'd go into protective mode and fly back down the stairs to rip Gem a new asshole.From the way their encounter had ended, Angel would guess that Gem already had plenty of asshole to go around.
November 1, 2011
Tuesday...a tease and a triumph
Well, hell, if that's not inspirational, I don't know what is. And you see the little white ball at the base of the photo? Yeah, there's a reason this pic inspired one of the novels in my upcoming French Quarter Quartet. Book number three will be based on this pic and all the twisty, smexy places that it took me.
Heh.
Stay tuned babies. More will be forthcoming regarding: The Ghost Who Shagged Me.
*giggle**giggle*
****************************************So there's your teaser. And now, for the triumph...****************************************
I've entered NaNoWriMo...and I'll be finishing at least the first novel of the French Quarter Quartet by the end of the month...though, nut that I am, I'm of course aiming for all four...O.O
Yeah, yeah, koo-koo for Coco Puffs and all that, LOL.
Gotta run babies. Words to write, furniture to move, coffee to drink. Smooches, and babies? Do something EXTARORDINARY today. Live and Love loud and proud, dance for joy, cause babies, the night is coming.
October 31, 2011
Manic Monday: All Hallows Eve
Hey. Today was so bloody hectic I didn't even get the Manic Monday post up until this evening!
Sheesh!
Eh, what's a momma to do when the call of the kidlet sounds? Scramble to make the trick-or-treating go off without a hitch of course. :) And it did. Now? Just have to get my self situated to start ...
*gulp*
NaNoWriMo 2011
Er, and finish edits to my Christmas stories.
Um, and finish up some major household tasks.
I know, nutty, right?
Eh, I usually work better under pressure.
Night all.
Oh, and the kidlet and I had a wonderful time doing family stuff tonight. I love both my jobs.
Mom.
Writer.
Yeah, my life totally rocks.
Sheesh!
Eh, what's a momma to do when the call of the kidlet sounds? Scramble to make the trick-or-treating go off without a hitch of course. :) And it did. Now? Just have to get my self situated to start ...
*gulp*
NaNoWriMo 2011
Er, and finish edits to my Christmas stories.
Um, and finish up some major household tasks.
I know, nutty, right?
Eh, I usually work better under pressure.
Night all.
Oh, and the kidlet and I had a wonderful time doing family stuff tonight. I love both my jobs.
Mom.
Writer.
Yeah, my life totally rocks.
October 30, 2011
Sad News: Farewell, Bobby Michaels
Elisa Rolle says it all, and says it so very well.
http://elisa-rolle.livejournal.com/1420843.html Go. Read about an amazing man, if you have never heard of him. Say farewell with Elisa if you have.
And do something Extraordinary in his memory. Write, for the night is coming.
http://elisa-rolle.livejournal.com/1420843.html Go. Read about an amazing man, if you have never heard of him. Say farewell with Elisa if you have.
And do something Extraordinary in his memory. Write, for the night is coming.
Sunday: In the Cave and Snogging
I love being in my Writing Cave. Just love it. Today in the cave, I'm hanging for a bit in the editing section, wrestling with the Christmas story for Mlr...Christie and Robert need to have a little, er, Face Time. LOL.
Coming from MLR Press December 12th, Cuddle Time Chicken Soup
An Unedited Snogging Excerpt:
"Well, good luck to you. I'll even go so far as to wish you my portion. I think you might need it more than I do."Less than a minute after the seat was vacated, another tall, muscular body slipped onto it. Christie didn't turn his head, and he didn't wait for the latest clown to try out his shiny new pick up line."Married. Fuck off."Christie reached across himself to lay his hand flat on the bar in front of the other man."Very, very married. And all my close friend slots are filled."The guy didn't move. In fact he scooted his stool closer and turned sideways, leaving Christie sitting in the open end of the vee formed by his legs.Christie opened his mouth to blast the idiot. He turned his head. Robert's amused blue eyes greeted him."Very, very married, are you?"Robert's eyes danced with mischief.Christie's eyes widened. "Robert."Robert placed his fingers lightly against Christie's lips, stopping the smaller man's words. The corners of Robert's eyes crinkled and a small smile played across his lips. Christie leaned toward him. Robert leaned forward, his eyes fastened on Christie's slightly open mouth. Christie's eyelids swept down, his long lashes veiling the turbulent seas of his eyes. The brush of warm, supple lips against Christie's ear just as Robert slid his hand up Christie's neck to cradle the back of his head sent a spike of need lancing through the smaller man. "I never realized how many bars this town had until I started traipsing through them to find you. Between hunting through most of them to find you and tracking Nikki down to watch Frankie I'm about worn out now. Come on, hot stuff, I'll take you home to your husband."Robert nearly had him half hard with that sexy move. The big freaking Viking had gotten Christie out of his clothes at warp speed with the same trick many times since the first time he discovered Christie's slut button.Christie moaned.Then Robert's words registered.Cheeky bastard.Christie ought to give him a piece of his mind.Robert used the hand at the back of Christie's head, applying subtle pressure until Christie turned his face a bit. Then Robert swooped in, plundering Christie's mouth thoroughly. Christie lost all sense of the bar. Only the heated depths of Robert's cinnamon flavored tongue existed in Christie's world, only the broad strength of his shoulders beneath Christie's flexing fingers had meaning. A low whistling sound intruded into the perfect place Christie had found where his arms twined over the top of Robert's shoulders and his hands eased up the taut line of masculine perfection which existed from the ball of Robert's shoulders to the chiseled edge of his jaw. Robert insinuated his hands between the top of the barstool and Christie's ass. Christie opened his mouth wider and whimpered. Robert pulled Christie across the intervening space until Christie was seated fully in the other man's lap.The whistle sounded again.Robert eased back, big hands cupping Christie's neck with fingers splayed and thumbs framing the line of Christie's jaw."Are you ready to go?"**************************************************************
Check out these further Snogging Goodness Reads, and start hip hopping around the internet reading lotsa yummer kissing stuff. Heh. Here you go with the links, and please start with the incomparableVictoria Bliss: Sunday SnogLily Harlem: Menage a MusicLisabet Sarai: A Vampire KissDakota Trace: Trust
Coming from MLR Press December 12th, Cuddle Time Chicken Soup
An Unedited Snogging Excerpt:
"Well, good luck to you. I'll even go so far as to wish you my portion. I think you might need it more than I do."Less than a minute after the seat was vacated, another tall, muscular body slipped onto it. Christie didn't turn his head, and he didn't wait for the latest clown to try out his shiny new pick up line."Married. Fuck off."Christie reached across himself to lay his hand flat on the bar in front of the other man."Very, very married. And all my close friend slots are filled."The guy didn't move. In fact he scooted his stool closer and turned sideways, leaving Christie sitting in the open end of the vee formed by his legs.Christie opened his mouth to blast the idiot. He turned his head. Robert's amused blue eyes greeted him."Very, very married, are you?"Robert's eyes danced with mischief.Christie's eyes widened. "Robert."Robert placed his fingers lightly against Christie's lips, stopping the smaller man's words. The corners of Robert's eyes crinkled and a small smile played across his lips. Christie leaned toward him. Robert leaned forward, his eyes fastened on Christie's slightly open mouth. Christie's eyelids swept down, his long lashes veiling the turbulent seas of his eyes. The brush of warm, supple lips against Christie's ear just as Robert slid his hand up Christie's neck to cradle the back of his head sent a spike of need lancing through the smaller man. "I never realized how many bars this town had until I started traipsing through them to find you. Between hunting through most of them to find you and tracking Nikki down to watch Frankie I'm about worn out now. Come on, hot stuff, I'll take you home to your husband."Robert nearly had him half hard with that sexy move. The big freaking Viking had gotten Christie out of his clothes at warp speed with the same trick many times since the first time he discovered Christie's slut button.Christie moaned.Then Robert's words registered.Cheeky bastard.Christie ought to give him a piece of his mind.Robert used the hand at the back of Christie's head, applying subtle pressure until Christie turned his face a bit. Then Robert swooped in, plundering Christie's mouth thoroughly. Christie lost all sense of the bar. Only the heated depths of Robert's cinnamon flavored tongue existed in Christie's world, only the broad strength of his shoulders beneath Christie's flexing fingers had meaning. A low whistling sound intruded into the perfect place Christie had found where his arms twined over the top of Robert's shoulders and his hands eased up the taut line of masculine perfection which existed from the ball of Robert's shoulders to the chiseled edge of his jaw. Robert insinuated his hands between the top of the barstool and Christie's ass. Christie opened his mouth wider and whimpered. Robert pulled Christie across the intervening space until Christie was seated fully in the other man's lap.The whistle sounded again.Robert eased back, big hands cupping Christie's neck with fingers splayed and thumbs framing the line of Christie's jaw."Are you ready to go?"**************************************************************
Check out these further Snogging Goodness Reads, and start hip hopping around the internet reading lotsa yummer kissing stuff. Heh. Here you go with the links, and please start with the incomparableVictoria Bliss: Sunday SnogLily Harlem: Menage a MusicLisabet Sarai: A Vampire KissDakota Trace: Trust
