Riley Murphy's Blog, page 6

Stare Him Down Teaser #1 and Exhibit A (A Honey Story)

 

I am so happy with this story. I can’t wait to release it!!!

Okay. Now for Exhibit A

I thought I’d put this out there because I’m sure I’m not the only one who has “from wife’s mouth to husband’s ear” disease.

What’s that you say? Walk with me for a moment in Honey’s world and I’ll explain. You see, it goes like this. I talk and Honey does whatever the hell he feels like doing. He could be silently singing the “Sha na na” song in his head. He could be quietly counting sheep. Heck, for all I know he could be imagining his favorite female sex symbol stroking his head while she laments what a bum-rap he got the day he married me.

*Looks right at you* Knowing Honey he’s doing all three.

Stare Him Down, The Start Of Our Epic Giveaway & A Honey Story!

 

We will start this one off with a bang! Here’s the new cover. Do you like?

Here’s the blurb:

When he agreed to walk away from the lifestyle for her, he never expected she’d subversively push him back into it.

Until she did.

After tragedy stole the only man James Barrington looked up to, his perfect and orderly life hit a brick wall. One minute he was the right-hand man to the owner of the company, and in the next he was the boss fighting to stop a hostile takeover the only way he knew how. He needed to marry his late mentor’s over-protected daughter, Michaela Donovan, and stay married to her until the threat to the company was averted.

While they were together, James had no intention of disrespecting his in-name-only wife by remaining entrenched in the lifestyle. For the time being, he was prepared to walk away from his Dom-like pursuits. He had to. Michaela was the opposite of everything he embodied. She was soft, where he was hard. Gentle, when he favored rough. She was refined and elegant. The epitome of a virtuous woman, and he wasn’t going to do anything to change that. Circumstances may have forced them to enter into a marriage of convenience in order to keep her father’s legacy alive, but the moment that legacy was secured they’d both be free to go their separate ways.

 

Michaela knew this may be her only opportunity to finally get the one man she has always fantasized about. She’s spent years studying him. Idolizing him. Wanting him in a way she wanted no other. And now? Well, her father always told her to seize whatever good came out of the bad, and Michaela was ready to do just that. Heartbroken over what happened, and faced with the task of saving the company, she sees James’ sensible offer as the perfect solution and a way to achieve two things she desired most at one time. James may consider this a marriage of convenience, but she’s determined to covertly change his mind on the matter.

One submissive tease at a time.

Maybe if James had been a different man he wouldn’t have noticed her subtle actions. Maybe if he was any other guy he could have overlooked them. Truth be told, he might have had a fighting chance if each “accidental” midnight encounter didn’t fire his blood and call to the Dom in him to come out and master this beautiful woman.

He couldn’t do that. This was Michaela Donavan. The innocent vanilla who had no idea what her sultry actions were doing to a seasoned Dom like him. This was no time to let desire get in the way. He had to maintain control and stay focused in order to save the company. Surely once this happened he’d able to put aside the wickedly dirty thoughts her unintentional actions inspired in him before it was too late and he acted on them.

She wasn’t going to give up. But with the prospect of their arrangement coming to an end, she knew what she had to do. Somewhere along the line, he must have lost his Dom mojo and she needed to help him find it again. The plan was simple. All she needed to do was re-Dom him.

How hard could it be?

(end)

 

GIVEAWAY

For the start of our build-a-giveaway, we have this bodacious mug with an Amazon 25.00 gift card tucked inside it.

 

You guys know the drill, right? If you’re a subscriber you are entered into this drawing already. Are you a subscriber? No? Okay, you’ll miss that one chance to win, but as a bonus – each time you leave a comment on the blog posts I publish between now and the end of the giveaway your name gets added to the drawing list. More chances to win. *Sigh* I love more chances! We will be adding an item to our giveaway each week or so until James’ and Michaela’s story STARE HIM DOWN is released. I can’t wait for you guys to read this story! This couple has quite a relationship journey, I can tell you that.

Okay, now for the Honey story. I hope you’re sitting down. If not, I’d advise that you do so because this is a doozy.

I would title this one:

The Many Mysteries Of Honey…And I’m Not Talking About The Nectar!

It would seem Honey has reached a point in his life where he is examining things. Namely his health. Or my health, or the health of the dog. How do I know this? Well, for starters, he told me last week that he might be suffering from mesothelioma*Side-eyes you and sagely nods* Of course he is. Here’s the conversation.

“Mesothelioma, eh? And you know this because…?”

“It’s a hunch.”

“Why? Because you have an ache in your back?”

“Yes.”

*Looks right at you, and whispers* The guy is freaking serious. *Turns back to him*

“Um, don’t you think that ache might have something to do with you scraping the texture off the ceiling?”

“You think there was asbestos in it?”

Oh, for the love of… “No. I think your arms where stretched up over your head all day and maybe your muscles didn’t like it. That’s what I’m thinking. Mesothelioma.”

Then later on that night when we’re lying in bed he sighs so I know something’s up. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. I’ve had a problem with my hand all day.”

I’m staring at the ceiling and frown. “The bad one?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you bang it?”

“No. At least no worse than I usually do.”

“Did you pinch it? Or get it stuck between something?”

“No. I think I have diabetic neuropathy.”

What the every living hell? The man is in great shape. Has better blood pressure than I do and not a whiff of pending, or even borderline diabetes in sight. Therefore, there is only one explanation. I turn to study him through the darkness. “Have you been watching medical documentaries lately?”

“Nope.”

Yeah, that didn’t ring true. “You haven’t been watching any medical shows or listening to medical infomercials on the radio?”

“Oh, I guess so. It’s called Medical Mysteries. It’s pretty good.”

“No it’s not. It’s giving you bad ideas. Do you even know what diabetic neuropathy is?”

To which I will insert me hearing, Blah, blah, blah until he gets to the pertinent part and I listen. “Where your nerves get all screwed up and they twitch and tingle and shit.”

Now it was my turn to sigh. “Yes, well, I’m positive you have to actually have diabetes before it causes you to suffer from diabetic neuropathy. You know what I’m saying? Just tell me you have neuropathy. That I might believe.”

“Okay.” He growled and turned toward me. “I have neuropathy.”

“No you don’t.”

He gave me a big squeeze hug, and said, “I think I do.”

“No.”

“How can you be so sure,” he whispered in my ear. *Shifts to lift a brow in your direction* Wow, neuropathy is the last thing on his mind at this point – if you catch my drift.

I deadpanned. “Because it causes erectile dysfunction and you seem to be functioning well. Or am I mistaken and that’s a gun in your pocket?”

He grinned and I saw that very well in the darkness. “I’m not wearing pants.”

Didn’t I know it! Men! *Shakes head*

After this conversation Honey settled down from trying to self-diagnose his typical aches and pains into gargantuan  medical anomalies. Why you may ask? Simple, because he started diagnosing mine. Check this out.

A few days ago I get up and limp a little, because, hello? I’ve been sitting for hours and, he says, “Babe? You okay? You didn’t pull your Achilles’ tendon did you?”

*Rolls eyes*

Then I made the mistake of massaging my hip one afternoon. I’d been doing these new exercises – probably all wrong – and I was stiff. What does he say when he sees me?

“Is your hip giving you trouble? Maybe you need a replacement.”

*Tilts head at you while I fume thinking, something could be replaced if he didn’t zip that getting old talk right quick*

But the best one? I was sitting beside him with my legs crossed – crisscross apple sauce style, and he reached over and gripped my thigh, putting so much pressure into his grip that I nearly jumped out of my skin. Why? Well, aside from it being uncomfortable, it hurt because I’ve also been doing squats and my thighs were sore. So, sure, okay, I may – may– have overacted a little when I got up and paced around to walk off the Charlie-horse he’d given me. I told him so too. I said my muscles were cramping in pain right now…And what does he say?

“Maybe you have diabetic neuropathy.”

*Hangs head* And mutters, “Thank you, Medical Mystery show. Yay. Now I have a budding hypochondriac by proxy on my hands.”

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon, when I go out to get the mail and find a package in the box. I love packages, don’t you? Anyway, I carry it into the house, dump the regular mail on the counter and have a look at who the lucky bugger is who is going to open it. Hey, there are only so many choices, right? Wrong. Turns out there was one more than I figured on. Why? Well, the package was for the dog.

The. Dog.

Hm…

I open it up and stare at the invoice. Yesiree, it was for our little poochie. Imagine that? I hadn’t ordered anything and yet? My name was on the invoice. Double Hm… that turns into a groan when I read the caption on the bottom of the page that says, As seen on TV and widely acclaimed on radio.

Am I the only one here who’s beginning to see a huge problem in the making? Honey has discovered infomercials to feed his documentary-medical-mystery program addiction. If I’m right he’s testing it out on the dog before he rolls out the real plan for us.

So what did I do? I left him a note on the dog vitamin powder that we could return for a full refund within 30 days if we weren’t completely delighted with it.

Dear Honey,

If you are going to be purchasing products from infomercials please use your own name when buying your gold. Speaking of gold. If I’m up next, and you’re thinking about ordering me a walker to preempt my hip replacement, the darn thing better be gold-leaf with real diamonds embedded in the grips. That’s all I’m saying…otherwise, I might suffer a bout of early dementia and use that walker to step right through you truck windshield.

Good Morning Dr. Freud, you caged what now?

Holy Mackerel! I have no idea how this happened…or even why, but I’m scared. *Tilts head to the side and thinks not at all for a second* Nah, I’m no chicken-licken. I’m more amused than anything else. Check this out.

For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been on a fast-track. Between Honey, the remodel, and some past clients I adore holding me hostage until I finally agreed to work with them, I’ve been busy. Very busy. So it’s no wonder I’ve been dreaming a lot. *Shrug* Hey, when I can’t put the words down on paper they get acted out in my dreams I suppose.

What does this mean? Well, I’ll tell you. I usually wind up explaining the dream to Honey when we have our morning coffee. And then the fun begins. I hear things like:

“That dream could not be any clearer to me. You’re a control freak so…”

Right. Forgot about that. Not! Next day?

“You dreamt of that because your mother is having a hard time…”

Okay, he had a point there. Maybe I should listen to him. Next day when I tell him about my dream from the night before?

“Simple. You’re in tough negotiations and you like to win…”

That’s it. The man is an oracle who I need to definitely listen to. Next day when I shared my slumber images what did he expound upon?

“We watched that part in the dirty movie…”

“Excuse me?”

“The woman with the whipped cream all over…”

*Looks right at you and scowls before I snap back to glare at him* “I didn’t see a show like that recently.”

“Oh, my bad.”

I deadpanned. “One foot on a banana peel and the other foot squarely planted in marital discord. How come I didn’t get to watch the whip cream movie?”

I was kidding, but he wasn’t when he suggested he stop at the grocery store after work and pick up some Rediwhip so he could help me reenact the burned-in-his-memory scene.

*Le sigh* A few days later I stupidly shared another dream I had. It was like he’d been waiting for me to spill so he could analyze it.

“You’re like the energizer bunny when you want something.” In the dream I’d been planting a tree. So I was just about to ask how that related when he gave me the smexxy look, and said, “I happen to like a little rabbit. One that vibrates. You?” I might have thought he was talking about the animal if he didn’t pair that question with popping his brows up and down so many times I thought he was having a seizure. *Shakes head* Men!

After I tackle him on this. He isn’t fazed.

“Don’t you see, babe? You’re direct and get right to the point. More importantly, you don’t mind getting down and dirty.” *Looks right at you* Why, you may ask? Because his eyes had gone dark and they were sparkling when he’d said this. Annnd, we all know what that means.

Again. Men! “It’s all about sex with you isn’t?”

“No. No,” he said more firmly and even shook his head. “What I’m trying to tell you is that you’re very strong.” I made the mistake of feeling a little a better about all this until he added, “So strong, in fact, I’m confident you could suck a golf ball through a garden hose in less than twenty seconds.” *Spits out coffee all over the table and then beats chest as I turn to look at you* The man is ridiculous, isn’t he? All I’d said this time was that I had a dream about sharks. *insert the mighty snow globe here* (I’d like to, but it has been stolen – boo-hiss to the thief. He’s having a bad day today I can feel it as I wave my bad juju wand in his direction).

Honey never missed a beat. He continued to analyze my dream using metaphors so freaking outrageous I had to laugh. So, um, yeah, I was inspired to call him Sigmund.

Which brings me to this morning’s conversation. Not about dreams because I’d given up sharing those with him. Can you blame me? What we were discussing was the cage that Honey had put out in the lanai to trap the rabbit that was sneaking into our screened in patio area and littering it with his little marble…well, it wasn’t chocolate kisses he was leaving for us, I’ll tell you that. Honey figured if he trapped the bunny in the cage and then released it in the morning on the other side of the fence surrounding our property, the little guy wouldn’t come into the lanai area ever again.Of course he didn’t know that I’ve been throwing baby carrots – Hansel and Gretel style – away from the screen enclosure hoping to redirect Peter from hopping his little tail into the lanai, and we’re not going to tell him, right? Honey doesn’t like the critters being fed too close to the house. Remember when he had to save Steven King from the hawk? That was surprising, wasn’t it?

Sound plan.

Of course, he didn’t know that I’ve been throwing baby carrots – Hansel and Gretel style – away from the screen enclosure hoping to redirect Peter from hopping his little tail into the lanai, and we’re not going to tell him, right? Honey doesn’t like the critters being fed too close to the house. Remember when he had to save Steven King from the hawk? That was surprising, wasn’t it?

Anyways, it did strike me as funny when Honey asked, “Did you have another dream about controlling the world last night? Something I can interpret for you that will put your mind at ease?”

And I replied, “Sorry Sigmund. How about you? Did you manage to bag our little gift-giver in the cage last night?”

I mean, what kind of people talk like this? *Stares at you with owl eyes* Gah! Apparently we do! Man, Honey and I could be arrested if anyone was listening in. LOL! Wouldn’t you love to be on a fly on the Homeland Security wall as Honey had to explain why his megalomaniac wife was calling him by an alias and asking him about bagging someone in a cage? I know I would.

Hope everyone had a great week! Enjoy your weekend!

And as always. Thanks for stopping by!

Riley

THIS SAYS IT ALL!!!!!!

To the person who was in my home and worked on my computer, how dare you steal from me?

This snowglobe has been with me since I published my very first book! It may have held its place beside the awards I’ve been given, but secretly it has always had a special place in my heart over those accolades for other reasons. Namely, because of who gave it to me. Now you’ve taken it away and all I can promise you is this. Where this globe gave me prosperity and all kinds of happiness – it will deliver to you just the opposite. Think about that when things go wrong from now on. Such a shame.

Riley Murphy who is currently fashioning a Voodoo doll in honor of a thief who took something precious from her.

To my readers. Sorry for the cryptic rant guys. I had this whole Honey story ready to go but when I went to invoke the snow globe moment I realized it wasn’t there – or here – as the case may be. So sad about this, but tomorrow’s another day, right?

*Sniffle*

 

 

STARE HIM DOWN

I Dropped The Hammer

 

TWO NEW COVERS!!!

First I had to share the new covers for Stare Me Down and Stare Her Down. I love them! Stare Him Down will be released this spring and there’s additional information on that at the bottom of this post.

Honey story first.

Here’s the deal. Honey and I have been having a little bit of a domestic dispute over wood. Not his, thankfully,

Um…Excuse me?

 

I’ve found myself saying this quite a bit lately. Why? Well, because Honey is on a roll. And by roll, I mean tumbling toward domestic disaster. Check out these beauties…

Time: Last week

Place: Our house

Situation: Remodel

I finally found the bed I wanted and it wasn’t the one Honey had his eye on, I can tell you that.

We’re both standing in the garage staring at the stacked frame that was just delivered and that’s when I noticed Honey’s unusual silence. I looked up. “Problem?”

“I’m still in shock.”

Imagine me doing an eye-roll here as I think about all the times he’s called me melodramatic over the years. “Shock? Seriously?”

“I thought we’d decided on the iron one at that pot store.”

*Looks right at you* Yeah, I always shop for my bedroom furniture while I peruse the frying pan aisle. *Shakes head and then corrects him.* “Pottery Barn. And no. You liked that one and I told you I wasn’t willing to pay that much cash for something I wasn’t in love.”

He glowers at me and points to the pieces of frame that are going to make my master bedroom centerpiece, and croaks out, “That.” Yup, he even went one outrage further by stabbing a point at our soon-to-be new bed. “That’s what you’re in love with?”

I nodded because it was. *Looks away and then looks back* Okay, truthfully, I wasn’t in love with it in its current condition, but Honey was going to change all that. I had big plans of him redoing the piece that’s probably why he was aggravated.

Long story short? I dropped the subject and, later on that night in our soon-to-be old bed, I made him VERY tired but extremely happy before I dropped the refurbish bomb on him.

Honey, I Did Not Say that…Yes I did!

So what have Honey and I been up to over the last few weeks? Well, I’ll tell you. We’ve been negotiating the tricky and diverse waters of surviving the remodel. The last time we took on a project of this proportion I wasn’t writing, so all Honey had to do was say, “Okay. Sure. Whatever you want, babe. Draw it out for me. Order it and I’ll install it.” *Sigh* Such wonderful memories.

Now? *Arches a brow at you and then sighs more deeply this time.* Things are different. As in I made a huge mistake giving him a bit of the power to pull the trigger on some very important decisions. I thought I was being reasonable and kind listening to his ideas before I vetoed them, but then I noticed something strange going on. While I was in my secluded world – creating worlds – he was outside my door doing whatever the heck he wanted to do with my walls, floors, and doorways!

How the hell did this happen?

*Looks right at you* I’ll tell you how. Honey stopped watching documentaries and started watching HGTV!!!! Those DYI-egomanic-builders.  Why is this a bad – no, scratch that, a TRAGIC thing? Before them, Honey only dared to build things to my specifications. He followed directions well and didn’t try to stick his novice-in-the-art-of-design-nose into my vision, but now he’s an effing visionary who “according to him” – knows better about popular colors and the latest and most hottest decorating trends around than I do.

*Takes a deep breath and pulls up a chair to tell you like it is.*

We have been married for 30 years. And in all those years I have never followed a trend. Decorating is my thing and just because I’m a fulltime author now, doesn’t mean I lose my taste or ability to redesign our home. Clearly Honey did not get the memo. Otherwise we wouldn’t be having conversations like these. Check them out.

This convo happened when Honey was measuring the relocated double door opening we made going into our bedroom. This is me.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m checking on the size.”

“Why? Didn’t you already order the doors I picked out?” This was a logical question because I picked the doors based on the size of the opening. Honey had triple measured so I was confident the doors I picked were going to be perfect. In fact, all Honey had to do was call the supplier and give them the info.

“Yeah, but I ordered the 36’s instead of the 30’s.”

*Imagine me dragging my hands down the sides of my face here* Why would he do this? Presently, I could go into detail about how the doors have glass with iron inserts sandwiched between them and the reason I wanted the 30 inch doors was so one couldn’t see the door frame through the glass when they were fully closed. I could, but I won’t bore you with important details like that.

“Any particular reason you made that call without asking me?”

“You were busy, babe. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Oh. Thanks. Can I see the tape measure for a minute?”

He handed it over, but was quick to say, “They’ll fit. Don’t be worried about that.”

After I measured, I let the tape snap closed. “And I hate to bother you because I know how busy you’re are, babe, but…”

“What? There’s no but. They’re going to be a show stopper.”

I didn’t necessarily disagree. In fact, I originally wanted the bigger doors but Honey had already framed the opening before he gave me a chance to decide about this. Come to think of it. It’s funny how things work themselves out eventually in my favor. But I digress. “The opening needs to be bigger.”

He gets that look on his face. The one that says, “Yeah, I’ll be all over doing that for you when hell lands in a deep freeze and Beelzebub skates by to hand me a cherry-flavored snow cone.”

I didn’t blink. “Do you remember the conversation we had about the glass in the doors?”

“I ordered exactly the ones you want except a little bigger. Didn’t you want the 36’s from the get-go?”

“Yep, but tell me, why did you say no before?”

“I don’t know. They were probably more expensive.”

*Looks right at you* Now that made all kinds of sense. Honey is known in our family to be the thrifty one. Me? Not so much. But either way, surprisingly, money wasn’t the issue in this case. “I’m sure they were, but the reason you originally said no was because of the size of the door frame. You explained how we’d see the trim and a good portion of the wall through the glass insert when the doors were closed. I didn’t want that. Remember that domestic dispute?”

He doesn’t even have to think for a second. He just barks, “#@#@!”

Aw, he remembered. “So even though I hate to bother you, babe, when you’re so busy with other work, I have to. You’re going to have re-frame the doorway and make it bigger.”

The irony of all this? Later while I was busy writing like I was when he didn’t want to bother me over those details – his sawing and hammering to make that opening bigger wound up bugging the s*it out of me. *Le sigh*

Then there was this a couple of days ago…

I handed him a few color swatches and asked, “These are the colors I’ve narrowed down for the back wall. Do you have a preference?” They were basically the same shade but this kind of tactic used to work on him prior to his HGTV watching. Normally, he’d just pick one thinking he’d made the final decision and in the end we were both happy because I got what I wanted.

Happy New Year’s to…

 

Congrats to lucky #7 – Peggy! Yay! You won our build-a-giveaway!!! If you email me the address where I can mail the goods to I’ll get them shipped right off to you.

Drat!!! We Need To Do Another Drawing!!!

I am working through a mountain of emails right now, but when I’m done I’m going to flag Honey down and make him pick a name out of hat for a winner. Someone is going to have a happy New Year!!!! And I’m going to be happy because I get to ship this stuff off.