Mandy M. Roth's Blog, page 72
April 10, 2013
Time Management for Writers
Time Management for Writers by Jaye Wells
Hello, my name is Jaye, and I am a procrastinator.
I feel no sense of shame admitting this because every day I see dozens of other authors beating themselves up for spending more time on social media than in their fictional worlds. In fact, if you’re a writer, I’d put some money down in Vegas on the chance you’re a procrastinator, too.
But as easy as it was for me to admit it to you, it took me a long time to admit it to myself. I used to try to convince myself I simply was a perfectionist. That I was simply honoring my process. Or that I simply worked best under stress.
Hint: None of these excuses get books written.
Here’s the truth: Writers work in a delayed gratification field but live in an instant gratification world. Coming to terms with this fact and learning how to maintain balance in that no-man’s land between the two can make all the difference in your productivity. So if you want any sort of longevity as a professional writer, you’re going to have to develop some time (and self) management skills.
Your first task is to get honest. All the good intentions in the world are useless if they aren’t rooted in the reality of your life. You may want to be the kind of writer who leaps out of bed at six am ready to write, but if you’re a night owl this is a horrible plan that will only ensure you end up in an endless loop of failure and guilt. When do you work best? Pay special attention on those days when the writing is going really well. Do you need a large chunk of time or can you get more done if you know you only have an hour?
Once you understand when you work best, you need to figure out HOW you work best. For me, the key is to block all access to the Internet. I use a program called Mac Freedom that blocks the web, email and chat programs for an amount of time I specify. Other writers avoid the Internet trap by using a computer dedicated to writing with no Internet capabilities at all. Other people have the self-control of a monk, but if that were us we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?
I also have certain rituals I do to signal my brain it’s time to work. There’s a candle on my desk that I light every day right before I start working. I also make sure I have a fresh cup of coffee or tea. I also take a few moments to reorient myself in the story I’m working on. Whether this is rereading work from the day before or simply taking a few minutes to plan what I’ll work on that day. All of these little rituals help me get into the right headspace for a good writing session. After all, the better the writing goes, the more often you’ll want to do it.
Now we need to talk about the dreaded ‘D’ word: Deadlines. I complain about mine all the time, but the truth is without them I’d never finish a project. As I mentioned earlier, it’s difficult to be an author in today’s instant-gratification world. We spend months—sometimes years—working on the same project. And when you have six months to finish a novel it can be tempting to goof off in the earlier days of a project. Especially if you’ve convinced yourself that you work best under a tight deadline. To fight this harmful mindset, I’ve found it’s best to set intermediate deadlines to break the project into manageable time chunks.
Even if you don’t have “real” deadlines, there are other ways to make sure you’re accountable. Sign up for contests or for agent pitch sessions at conventions. You don’t have to spend a lot of money to register for a contest and a lot of local conferences aren’t too expensive. You might have to get creative, but the trick is to be accountable so you don’t play games with yourself to avoid writing.
There’s old saying, “Make hay when the sun is shining.” It’s a rule of writing that the longer you delay getting your words writing the more likely it is for a crisis to come along. So save yourself from the stress-induced ulcer by making your words and storing them away like the squirrel preparing for winter. Because, to bastardize George R. R. Martin, winter’s coming, friends. It always does. 
Now, it used to be that all writers had to do was write. But these days, writers are also expected to become marketing gurus, as well. Between Tweeting, Facebook, blogging, Tumblr, Pinterest, message boards, and email, it’s easy to eat up all your time promoting your books instead of writing them. In addition to being a huge time suck, social media outlets can also be really harmful to one’s creative process. So, here too, you need to learn how to manage yourself and what kind of info-pollution you’re letting into your head.
There’s no doubt about it: Writing is not a normal profession. It’s way more fun than most jobs, but that means it’s always way easier to forget that it’s actual work, too. Understanding your personal productivity pitfalls can going a long way toward ensuring you’re finishing stories on a regular basis. A lot of writers beat themselves up for being procrastinators, but they’d be better off developing strategies that work around that natural tendency for instant gratification. Get honest with yourself and set manageable goals and reasonable routines that work with your life and your goals.
Happy writing!
USA Today-bestselling author, Jaye Wells, writes urban fantasy novels with grave stakes and wicked humor. Raised by booksellers, she loved reading books from a very young ago. That gateway drug eventually led to a full-blown writing addiction. When she’s not chasing the word dragon, she loves to travel, drink good bourbon and do things that scare her so she can put them in her books. Jaye lives in Texas with her husband and son. For more about her books, go to www.jayewells.com and follow her on Twitter @jayewells.
April 8, 2013
The making of a book (how I outline)
I’m a big fan of writing my stories in Office Word. But, I’m an even bigger fan of outlining, plotting, developing my character profiles and so forth in Scrivener (for mac or pc and no I get no money from them for talking about them). I’m a strange mix of plotting and flying with my gut when I write. I will know what I want to write–genre, basic storyline, etc. But I won’t know the characters until I write at least one chapter getting to know them myself. From this point, I dig dipper and create character profiles. I use Scrivener for this. I also use the program to break down each chapter and what I want/need to have happen in it. While I write I have two windows up on my screen–Scrivener and Office Word (I use Office 365 on my MAC but reverted back to Office 2010 on my PC because 365 did not want to show edit marks for track changing for me and even tech support at MS couldn’t get it to work properly).
Here are some screen shots from Scrivener of Theirs to Hold (Hazard County Threesome) by my pen name Rory Michaels–coming soon.
Character Profile Board
April 7, 2013
I want to read some of your books. Where do I start?
Here is a handy guide to my books that should help you decide where to start.
The Immortal Ops Series
King of Prey
A View to a Kill
Master of the Hunt
Other Books
Do you love Laurel K. Hamilton, Kresley Cole, Yasmine Galenorn, Jeaniene Frost, Eileen Wilks and Charlaine Harris?
Do you love Sherrilyn Kenyon, Eve Langlais, Allyson James, Bianca D’Arc?
Try my pen name books
Reagan Hawk Books by Series
Trading Teon
Securing Sara
Rescuing Reya
Capturing Clara
Binding Bree
Strength in Numbers
Space Pirates Bounty
Bounty Hunters Captive
A King’s Ransom
A Knight’s Redemption
A Prince’s Captive
Prepared to Please
Denial of Service
Programmed for Pleasure
Do you love Maya Banks, Lorelei James, Delilah Devlin and Cheyenne McCray?
Win Urban Decay Temp Tattoo Body Jewelry
I do a lot of Makeup with Mandy posts and articles for mag and so forth. Thanks to Chritine, Urban Decay Rep, I have a tube of the Urban Decay Body Jewelry Body Jewelry to give away to one lucky winner. I’ll ship to anywhere that can receive mail with ease.
How to be entered for a chance to win? Simple, comment on this post. It is THAT easy. Yes it is. I will pick a winner on May 1st! Also, if you enter you’re taking full responsibility for yourself and any injury or allergy that may result from use of any product you’re entering for a chance to win (legal disclaimers suck, I know).
Vid on the net about the tattoos. Unsure if these are the exact ones. Look like they are or are VERY close.
April 3, 2013
Theirs to Take by Rory Michaels
Contemporary Western Threesome Romance
Hazard County Threesomes Book 1
Ray and Mark haven’t seen each other in four years. Not since Mark ran like a thief in the night after a rather intimate encounter with Ray. When Mark resurfaces in Hazard County with his new bride, Nancy, in tow, Ray is hurt but drawn to Mark’s wife. He wants to sample her, to know if she’s as luscious as she looks. To make matters worse, Nancy wants it too. She knows about Mark and Ray’s torrid past and she is willing to be their third—their missing link in the bedroom. Can Ray get over Mark walking out on him once and can Nancy really handle two men at one time?
Warning: This short story contains m/m/f sex, m/f/m ménages a trois, explicit sex, strong language and cowboys who will melt your socks off. If you’re looking for long drawn out plots and sweeping romances, this isn’t your book. This is a short story that won’t apologize to anyone. If you want hot, dirty, sexy and to the point, you’ve found it. If not, it’s best to move right along, this isn’t the book for you.
http://ravenhappyhour.com/Theirs_to_T...
April 2, 2013
Contest: Win a $25 Amazon Gift Card
What do you have to do to be entered for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card? Its simple. All you have to do is share the following facebook post on facebook. That is right. You just SHARE the post. I’m able to see all the shares. From those, I’ll use random.org to help select a winner. How long do you have to do this? Until May 1st. That is when I’ll pick a winner.
The facebook post you must share to be entered for a chance to win a $25 Amazon Gift Card
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMandyRoth/posts/10151546907909683
contest requirements: You must be 18 years or older. You must have a facebook account. You must share the above post. Let me know within the post that you shared it.
March 30, 2013
Excerpt: Date With Destiny (Pleasure Cruise II) by Michelle M Pillow & Mandy M Roth
Paranormal Erotic Romance
Academically-minded, uptight Anna only agreed to go on Date with Destiny, a campy game show, because she wanted to win an SUV. She never dreamed that accidentally selecting the wrong prize would land her on a cruise ship full of supernaturals. At least she’s bringing someone along for the ride—her best friend Winter, a kooky free spirit with a penchant for mischief.
Andre and Christian, were-panthers and twin brothers, are polar opposites as far as personalities go. One views life as a party, the other is entirely too serious. But once they meet their intended mates, this night-and-day duo can finally agree on one thing—Anna and Winter will be theirs and theirs alone before they get back to shore.
The Powers That Be have ensured none of them will get off the ship until the two couples are mated. But as the brothers quickly realize, these human females mean to challenge them every erotically-charged step of the way.
Rating: Contains graphic sexual content, adult language, and violence
This book was previously published. It has been revised and revisited for this second edition.
EXCERPT
Must be 18 years and older to read. If not, please leave the site.
An Excerpt From: Date with Destiny
Copyright © MICHELLE M. PILLOW AND MANDY M. ROTH
“Don’t you read the news, Winter? Do you know what kind of diseases are on cruise ships? They’re like floating viruses, breeding grounds for any sickness you could imagine. My goodness, if they don’t kill you with communicable diseases transmitted from person to person, the food will get you. I shudder to think how many forms of hepatitis could be contracted on this thing. Don’t even get me started on restaurants at each port. You never know…
Winter rolled her eyes behind Anna’s designer-suit-clad back and mimicked her talking. Her friend hadn’t shut up about the cruise since she’d won it on the game show. Looking at the giant ship at port, along the Texas coastline, she didn’t see Anna’s floating virus. She saw a portal to fun. The blue ocean and warm, salty air beckoned them out to sea. Though they would sail around the Caribbean, the ship schedule didn’t show them docking at any island ports—or so Anna said as Winter didn’t live her life by adhering to schedules. Instead they would be trapped, adrift in paradise with nothing but the waves and, if her tea-leaf reading held true, scores of single, hot men. Could anything be more romantic?
Hearing Anna’s loud, grumpy sigh, Winter said, “Everything happens for a reason. Why not have a little faith in the master plan? Maybe this cruise is your destiny.”
“No,” Anna said, matter-of-factly. “My date with destiny was a brand-new black SUV with brown leather interior and all the add-on features. Oh, and the complimentary Jet Ski to pull behind it. Not some floating deathtrap and a week of debauchery.”
“You’re planning on debau—on getting laid?” Winter arched a brow, hopeful her friend was finally ready to take a walk on the wild side of life. “By something that’s not mechanical or requires batteries? Maybe you’re right,” she reached for Anna’s forehead, “maybe you already contracted something.”
* * * * *
Christian sighed, leaning forward as he peered into the suite’s oval bathroom mirror. Combing his long brown hair back from his face, he pulled it into a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. Not a hair was out of place when he finished. He had personal grooming down to a science.
He wore nothing but a towel wrapped neatly around his firm waist. His bare feet absently tapped on the floor as Andre started on his next ’80s tune. His twin really wasn’t a bad singer, if he’d just stop butchering the lyrics.
Suddenly the shower turned off and Andre hopped out, glistening wet as he strummed an air guitar and flicked his tongue in and out. Christian’s brow rose as he tried not to watch Andre’s one-man show. Though the event was oddly like a car crash—as much as one didn’t want to look at it, the compulsion to do so trumped all restraints.
Andre didn’t even seem to notice he had an audience, that or he just didn’t care. Still humming softly, he grabbed a towel off the wall and haphazardly dried his hair then his body, not caring that he missed a few spots.
“Hey, let me get in here,” Andre said, dropping his damp towel on the floor and reaching toward the neatly organized sink. He knocked down a bottle of cologne while grabbing the mousse. Squirting some hair product on his hand, he continued humming as he dropped the can in the sink. As Andre moussed his hair, combing the messy length only with his fingers, Christian picked up the fallen bottles. “Oh yeah, thanks, I need that.”
“You have a bathroom in your own cabin.”
“Oh, I know. But I sort of forgot to bring my toiletry bag. I don’t have anything but my toothbrush next door. Well, that and my clothes of course.”
“I gave you a list of what to pack.”
“Yeah, and when I was out the other night, I ran into this foxy gal and needed something to give her my number with.” Andre smiled. “It worked great, thanks.”
Christian didn’t dignify the comment with a response. He sighed as Andre grabbed his cologne and put it on, not bothering to recap it when he was done. Picking up after Andre as his brother strode from the bathroom naked he mumbled, “Just like home.”
Andre ignored his grumbling brother and headed to his cabin in order to dress. Christian spent too much time being perfect. Andre was just the opposite. He liked music, movies, making an artistic mess and a well-written novel, especially the ones that had loads of steamy sex poured on each page. Who wanted to have an intellectual conversation when you could lie on your back and just let your mind drift aimlessly? Or watch the latest hottie ride you as her tits bounced in your face.
Ah, this is the life…or at least it was, for soon I’ll be a married man.
http://ravenhappyhour.com/Date_With_D...
March 29, 2013
What prequel would you want and why…
Daughter of Darkness, Wicked Lucidity, Immortal Ops, Gypsy Nights, Zodiac Series, Project Exorcism, Prospect Springs Shifters…. if you could get a short prequel to just one of these series, which would it be and why? Am considering adding this to my schedule as a possible freebie gift on my website.
March 28, 2013
Do you love 50 Shades of Grey? You might like…
Executive Decision by Mandy M Roth (Contemporary Erotic Romance Novel)
The bright lights of the big city called to Liz Rogers. Her best friend and almost roommate, Dale, helped her make the transition from small town girl to big time ad executive. They work together and nearly live together. For eight years he’s been her rock, her sounding board. As Liz starts breaking off one workplace relationship, another one—that has been brewing since the first day she arrived in New York, blossoms—leaving her confused and concerned. She’d been burned once by love and isn’t willing to risk her heart again, especially not to a man who was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth.
Dale Corbins has been in love with Liz from the moment he laid eyes on her. He knows time is running out, that one of these days she’s going to come home and tell him she’s fallen for someone else. When he finds out she’s been sleeping with their boss, he decides it’s time to take matters into his own hands. Unfortunately, winning Liz’s heart isn’t an easy game to play. It will take more than romantic gestures and sweet nothings to get the woman he loves. Thankfully, he’s a very persistent man. But is this a game even he can’t win?
Warning: This book contains a quick tempered heroine, a uber hot leading man, toe-curling sex and people who aren’t afraid to speak their mind, regardless the language used. (Must be 18 years or older to read)
Available at all major ebook vendors!
Reviews:
5 Hearts–Ms. Roth knows how to amaze readers with stunningly arousing and sensual love scenes. These two set the sheets, or I guess I should say the bathroom floor, on fire. The scenes are pretty explicit and in your face, but completely on fire. This story will have you laughing, upset, stressed-out, confused, and feeling loved right along with the characters. The emotions in Executive Decision are so realistic that it feels like you are one of the characters and are going through the story yourself. –The Romance Studio
“Through a lot of bad timing, miscommunication and comedic mishaps, I was laughing, fuming and smiling through this entire story. “~ Joyfully Reviewed
“I found it to be very realistic about two colleagues who go through an emotional rollercoaster journey in their path to true love. Ms. Roth pulls it off with aplomb, concentrating more on the romance than any peripheral issues that may distract from the story. ” ~ JERR Reviews
Excerpt (Must be 18 or older to read)
Chapter One
“Becker’s profits are falling at an alarming rate. Let’s just say that it’s bad enough they’ve decided to outsource the marketing to another firm—hopefully us. People, this is our chance. Opportunities like this don’t fall from trees. This could be the deal of a lifetime. What team wants to tackle this one? Simthe, your team’s loaded down enough with the Flickerton account. I can’t spare you. How about you, Rogers, Jacks, or Walters?”
Tapping my ball point pen on the edge of the cherry table, I barely noticed the buzz of the week’s staff meeting in my ear. The majority of it was always a recap anyway and the first time around with it bored me to tears. Subjecting myself to it twice was insane. Instead, thoughts of my weekend plans ran through my head. It had been close to five months since I’d been out on the town with the girls and my withdrawal was now full-blown. One of my best friends, Lauren, was convinced that my employer, Baum Marketing, was holding me hostage. She’d threatened twice to send in the marines if I didn’t get a day off soon. In my current state of mind, I’d let her.
Besides, a room full of uniformed, armed men who had been trained to use their bodies as weapons couldn’t be that bad, right?
I understood where Lauren was coming from. It wasn’t like I was purposely avoiding her. I needed a break too but accounts were up. Striking while the iron’s hot is a must in the world of marketing. And the iron had been hot for months now. Seeing any sort of out of the workplace activities would be a pleasant welcome to staring at the same four, pale grey, walls another minute. Just a week ago I’d found myself holding an interior decorators card in my hand wondering what my boss would say if I spruced my office up and brought my bed in.
He probably wouldn’t care much for that. Then again, the bed might be a welcome change from his hard desk. My luck, a fellow employee would walk in on us and I’d either end up in a workplace orgy or the butt of even more jokes.
Work had become all consuming and as much as I loved what I did, I enjoyed a social life too. Or at least I think it was called a social life. If memory served it was one of those things where you go out with your friends and enjoy yourself. The idea was fast becoming foreign to me.
“Elizabeth?”
Hearing my name, I looked up from my mindless task to find the entire boardroom full of people staring at me. It is always so wonderful to find myself on the receiving end of ten pairs of questioning eyes. The next worst thing would be having a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of my black suede Alisonia pumps. As sexy as that sounded, it just isn’t what I think the designer had in mind to pair them with.
This fall’s latest craze—three sheets instead of two. Not.
“Elizabeth, are you okay?”
I glanced towards the head of the firm, Charles Baum and forced a smile onto my face.
Smile pretty and pretend you were following along. It might work.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Baum, you were saying?”
Charles adjusted his diagonally striped silk tie while he avoided looking at me and cleared his throat. The navy in his suit brought out his light blue eyes, making him look younger than he really was. At forty-five he was prime pickings. He still had a full head of natural hair that he wore short in the back and on the sides but let spike about a half inch up on top. Granted, where it once had been varying shades of light brown, it was now laced with white as well. In my opinion it gave him more character as did the tiny lines around his eyes. But having always liked older men, I was biased.
Women flocked to Charles and he adored the attention. He also enjoyed the thrill of the pursuit. I figured that out from the moment I started working for him. My normal standoffishness suited me well when it came to him. For years I resisted his advances, the entire time secretly wanting to sample what he had to offer. Now, I almost regretted not giving in sooner.
“If everyone would please excuse us,” Charles said, his tone dry, warning.
I stood, collected my paperwork and went to leave. If he wanted to cut the meeting short it was fine by me. That just meant I’d be heading home an hour earlier—for once.
“Not you, Elizabeth.”
Oh, yippee. Apparently, smiling pretty and hoping for the best didn’t work. I should have tried unbuttoning a button or two. Perhaps my cleavage could have won me safe passage.
Charles was polite enough to wait until the oversized oak doors to the boardroom were closed before giving me his famous “you are in for it” look. “Elizabeth, what in the hell is going on with you lately?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You’ve been walking around half-here and half-not. Your head certainly isn’t in the game. And the moment someone points it out to you, you snap. Did you know that two of your interns asked to be moved off your team? I have never had one request a transfer before, let alone two at the same time.”
My jaw dropped. There was no possible way I’d chased two interns off my team. When I found out which sniveling, whiny, little nineteen-year-old went to Charles, I’d wring their necks.
“Have you anything to offer, honey?”
I narrowed my gaze on him, letting it go hard. “Don’t call me honey when you’re implying I’m being the wicked bitch of the west branch.”
Working his tie off, he walked towards me. The instant he started on the baby-blue and navy cross-hatched shirt beneath it, I knew what he wanted. And it wasn’t to reprimand me for my behavior. Oh, there might be some light spankings involved, but they were ones I’d certainly enjoy. “Elizabeth, would I ever call you a bitch?”
“You called me one twice last night.”
The smile that ran over his face could melt almost anyone, even me. “Now, honey, I think we both know why I said that.” He walked over to me, placed his well manicured hands on my hips and pulled me to him. “You didn’t seem to mind me calling you that when you were bent on your hands and knees. Bedroom play aside, I respect your work too much to think ill of you. You’ve put out some amazing promotions and you’re our youngest team leader.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” It did, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him. Knowing he’d squirm was much more fun.
“No. It’s supposed to keep me out of the doghouse.”
“Don’t you mean, keep you out of your own house?”
It was no secret. Charles had a live-in girlfriend that he’d never gotten around to breaking up with. No part of me believed he ever would. Belinda spent a great deal of her time away for photo shoots and fashion shows. The processed blonde woman was model material for sure but spent her time behind the scenes as a “hands on” agent. She prided herself on how tight of a hold she had on Charles. If she only knew.
At no point did I enter into a sexual arrangement with Charles under the pretense I could change his wicked ways. Charles wasn’t a man to make a commitment and that was fine. I wasn’t fond of the idea myself. No part of me wanted to settle down and spend my life in some cookie cutter suburb anyway. A set of pearls and an apron didn’t just turn me off—they scared the living hell out of me.
Visions of turning into my mother plagued me every time a man wanted more. Being married to someone who was as screwed up as me when it came to relationships would only lead to disaster. Finding a man who was the complete opposite of me wouldn’t be any better. Hell, he’d head for the hills before the honeymoon was over.
No thanks. I’ll pass.
“Mmm, I like this,” Charles murmured, pulling my white georgette blouse out of the top of my short grey and black patterned skirt. “Tell me you have the little lace bra on. You know, the one with the matching crotchless panties and I might forgive your behavior at work lately. I should warn you that if you are wearing those, you will be good and thoroughly fucked before you set foot out of this room. And don’t think I’m joking. I’ve had dreams about you spread out on this very table, with your hair fanned out around you, your skirt up over your waist … mmm, I’m sure you get the picture.”
Apparently not as clearly as he did.
I held my grin back as best I could. Charles’ dream sounded more than fun to me. The urge to climb onto the table and spread myself wide for him was great. Somehow, I held back. That could be an after work hours game. Besides, we’d already decided to tone back our ‘little sessions’ and acting that fantasy out was far from restraining ourselves.
“Sorry. As much as I’d love to be off the hook with you, I opted for underwear with a crotch. Better luck next time.”
Not wasting any time, Charles reached around me, grabbed my butt and gave it a good squeeze. “Elizabeth, you scared me. For a minute there I thought you’d changed your thong wearing ways. Don’t do that to me. My heart isn’t what it used to be.”
“The way you carry on in the bedroom you’d still want me even if I wore a paper bag and there’s not a damn thing wrong with your heart. You’re ego is a bit on the over inflated side, but there’s really no cure for that.”
Charles laughed, and I couldn’t help but to move closer to him. “You’ve got me figured out.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“Do you know what I’m thinking as I stand here looking at those sexy legs of yours?”
A knowing looked passed over my face. “My guess is how nice they are wrapped around your waist.”
“Close.”
The look in his eyes told me just how close I really was. He’d always been a sucker for my height. At five-nine barefoot, Charles’ mouth was in kissing distance while standing. Almost being as tall as he was had other advantages. We could have sex standing up, a feat many missed out on.
He pulled a strand of my dark hair up and began twirling it around his finger. “I love this too, you.”
No surprise. Charles was a sucker for women with long hair. With hair that bordered on black, I was the opposite of what he had at home. Often, Charles would make tiny comments about how blue my eyes were compared to Belinda’s. The last thing I wanted or needed was to be an unwilling party in a “who is better than whom” contest so I tended not to comment.
“Elizabeth, you could get a man to give up anything to be with you with just one look.”
Charles was always one to say sweet things but never one to go this overboard. Maybe he was finally going to tie the knot with Belinda and thought I’d take the news hard. I’d feel bad for him, shackling himself to a manipulative bitch, but I’d be fine.
“Something you want to tell me?”
“Only that I can’t stop thinking about having those full lips wrapped around my—”
Putting a hand on his chest, I interrupted him. “Whoa Don Juan, laying it on a bit thick there aren’t you?”
“Am I?”
“Ask a question, get a question. Ah, Charlie, you know that’s my absolute favorite game to play.”
Something flashed in his blue eyes as he leaned into me. “Nice try, but you’re sexy when you’re annoyed too.”
“Then I should run for Ms. America. The swimsuit competition alone would put me in a lovely mood. I mean with all those judges rating on how well my ass looks in bloomer style bottoms just makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.”
Charles planted a tiny kiss on the tip of my nose and chuckled. “Are you still going out this evening?”
Seeing where this was headed, I decided to stop the jealous outburst in its tracks. “Are you still going home to Belinda tonight?”
He bit the corner of his bottom lip and released his hold on me. “I deserved that.”
“I know. And yes I am going out tonight.” I rolled my neck, hoping to work out the perma-kinks that had taken up residency there some two years prior. Surprise. It didn’t work. “I’m tired, Charles. I’ve pulled seventy hour work weeks for months handling Joanne and Doreen’s teams and I deserve some down time.”
“Listen, I understand that I’ve put a lot on your plate these last few months but I knew you could handle it. Besides, you’re taking two weeks off soon. I still think you should let me come along. I’d love to meet your family.”
“That would be one for the photo album. Mom, Dad, this is my boss who is just a smidge older than me. We’re fuck-buddies. Who wants cake?” Even I couldn’t stop the tiny giggle that followed.
“Charles, I hardly consider taking time off for my ten year reunion as extensive downtime. And you know, as well as I, that I’ve not taken a vacation in over two years.”
“There was that week we spent in Italy acting like bunnies every chance we got. Remember the veranda? I don’t know about you but I was chafed the next day.”
Tapping one long fingernail on my hip, I just stared at him, hoping he’d feel just how annoyed I truly was at the moment. It must have worked.
“I know, I know. We were there on business, Elizabeth, but you have to admit it was fun.”
“Yes it was fun.”
“See, I haven’t tossed anything at you that you can’t handle. You are truly an amazing woman.”
Wonderful, because he thought I was superwoman, I got screwed picking up the slack for Joanne who eloped with a guy she met on the subway less than a month ago. If that wasn’t bad enough, Doreen, the head of the layout department up and decided to have her baby a month early.
They give you a due date for a reason. Stick to it.
“With the Becker account on the table does that mean you won’t be coming to my reunion with me?”
“As much as I’d love to, honey, I can’t. There’s no way I can walk away from a deal like this.”
I was disappointed but I’d live.
“Since you’re in need of some downtime, do you want me to give the project to Walters? It’s yours if you want it, honey. Just say the word.”
The very mention of Vincent Walters’ name made my skin crawl. He was a one hundred percent, Grade-A asshole, who specialized in making my work week hell. His idea of funny was always at my expense.
My knee jerk reaction was to raise my nails and snarl at Charles. I held back only due to the fact I knew I’d snap if I stayed a second longer. There was no possible way I could handle an account the size of one he was offering while in Ohio. And I wasn’t about to not go. So far, I’d missed two of my closest high school friends’ weddings, and the birth of their first children. I would not miss anything else. The speed there was much different from New York. I’d got my parents a computer for Christmas and they had yet to take it out of the box. No. Controlling the Becker account wouldn’t work for me. “Fine, whatever. It’ll make his day. Could even compensate for that ‘little dick’ thing.”
Charles arched a dark blond eyebrow. “And how exactly do you know how big or little his dick is?”
“Is that jealousy I’m hearing?” Bringing the word jealously into the equation always seemed to snap Charles out of the moment. This time, it didn’t.
“What would you say if the answer was yes?”
The room suddenly felt hotter than it should. Was it supposed to feel as though it were closing in on me? My palms began to sweat as the grey boardroom walls seemed to press closer and closer to me. Heat rose to my face and the urge to expel my lunch was tempting.
Charles moved to me, touching my cheek lightly and giving me his ever calming smile. “Relax Elizabeth, I’m not asking for a commitment. I’d never do that. But I think I’ve earned the right to be a bit jealous when it comes to you. Do you agree?”
“Uhh-huh,” I murmured between deep breaths.
“I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone more afraid to settle down than me.” He kissed my forehead gently and held me to his chest, driving me mad with need. The woody smell of his Givenchy cologne drove me nuts. It always did and Charles knew it. Maybe it was his way of teasing me throughout the day. Whenever I was close to him and caught scent of it, I was left in a near drool state.
“We’ve been in here a long time. I should get back to my office.”
He didn’t let go of me. “Are you still catching flack from Walters and Seraphim about us?”
I nodded but said nothing. Of course I was still catching crap from the two stooges. They’d made it their personal mission to “out” my relationship with Charles. The only reason we didn’t announce it ourselves was that neither of us were serious about it. Our arrangement was purely sexual. Sure, we were friends, but that was it. Nothing long term.
Letting the entire company in on our sexual arrangement seemed a bit pointless. Apparently, Walters and Seraphim didn’t think so. Though, as pathetic as they were, my sex life most likely was the most interesting thing they had to discuss.
“Do you want me to call an informal meeting and clear the air? I could lay what we have out on the table. It would pull the rug out on their suspicions? If they know I’m supportive and behind this then it might scare them enough to rethink how they treat you. I own the place. Piss me or my significant other off and you won’t have a job come Monday morning.”
Horrified, I looked at Charles as though he’d sprouted a second head. “What? We have nothing more than sex between us. We are not significant others, Charles. I know that you’re just tossing that out as an example but still I’d rather not have everyone in on that. You swore this was just sex.”
“Elizabeth.”
“Don’t Elizabeth me.” I shook my head, unable to believe the weirdness Charles was giving off. “I think you should make a doctor’s appointment. Something’s gone screwy upstairs.”
I didn’t wait for his response. Instead, I headed towards the doors, ready and willing to face the wealth of speculation that would arise from my extended period alone with Charles. I was in the mood to make snappy comebacks. Hell I was always in the mood for that. Now, I’d get to direct them at my favorite targets, Walters and Seraphim.
Game time.
Writing Gloves
I started writing the summer of 2003. This summer will mark 10 years for me. For the entire ten years I’ve worn writing gloves whenever I’m writing. To date, I have over 100 published stories of varying length (short to full novel plus). When I’m pulling sixteen hour days I wear what I term the industrial strength gloves. Sometimes I’ll also sleep in them if I’m working like mad. They do limit mobility and require something of a learning curve to get used to. On normal writing days (6-8 hours) I wear the less intense ones. These are a little easier to get used to and afford you more movement.
I couldn’t possibly tell you if I’ll develop problems with my fingers/wrists/hands but I do know that I’m trying everything in my power to prevent it and to care for my hands. They are my money makers for sure.
