Naughty Bits

Accidental Art

I’m pleased with this photo. I like to think that it captures the essence of my writing journey – being like a determined, hearty, little weed pushing through concrete barriers to ultimately emerge victorious in the sunlight. You’re feeling it, too, right? 

The fact that I accidentally caught this when putting my phone back in my purse doesn’t change the sentiment. Maybe it’s just the rest of the story.

This determined, tiny, slip of a shoot didn’t let anything get in its way. It was going to bask in the sunlight that it richly deserved. It was going to be seen by the world in all of its splendorous, weedy glory, “That’s right, bitches. I’m a weed. Deal with it.”

Then one day, while lazing in the warmth of our closest star, happily reaping the rewards of its efforts, fate stumbles in, takes its picture and…a legend is born. Behold! The mighty little weed.

Did this wee sprout ever hope to be the subject of a blog update, an Instagram post or a blur on a Twitter feed? I doubt it. But now this courageous, hell-bent-for-glory weed serves as inspiration to tens of people who are tenaciously pushing through to realize their dreams. Rock on little weed. I salute you.

Wayward Words

Image by Alejandro Tuzzi from Pixabay

Let us paint the world
With our wayward words
From fingertips and tongue.

Letters mixed and swirled
Trilled by mockingbirds –
Poet, not poem, unsung.
~~*~~
Written for World Poetry Day 2019, this little verse gave me a reason to switch hats from novelist to poet. And now, I’m switching once again from poet to blogger. I know. I know. I’ve been lax in updating this blog.

Mea culpa.

However, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy with writing projects. Because I have!

Thanks to my small but fierce team of beta readers, I’m 80% done with rewrites, edits, and whatnots of The Call. The plan is to have the entire manuscript polished by the end of the month. Incidentally, The Call was a finalist in the Sexy Scribblers contest and a partial manuscript (the first 14 chapters) is being read by an Editor at Carina Press who promises feedback. If liked, they may select it for publication, too. Fingers crossed.

Now it’s time to put on my laundress headwear before I get back into novelist-mode. I’ll save you the suspense and let you know that tomorrow’s attire includes both housekeeper and novelist. A writer’s life is so sexy ain’t it?

Blame it on Valentine’s Day

I opened the door and there he was holding a heart-shaped box of chocolates and a fistful of roses, beaming proudly, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“Damnit! Not you, too!” I blasted him and shut the door as I turned on my heel.

He opened the door and followed behind me. “What? It’s Valentine’s Day. I brought you gifts,” he whined.

I spun around to face him and snapped, “No. You brought you gifts. Those aren’t for me.”

His brows furrowed as we stood there staring at one another in an awkward silence. I folded my arms over my chest, not budging. Finally, his shoulders slumped and his arms dropped to his side, still holding the offerings in his hands. He eventually just looked down at the floor.

He was crestfallen, but I kept at him. It was for his own good, “I get it. You got all caught up in momentum of the day. But, that’s just not me and I thought it wasn’t you either. You were quite clear about that last year after that girl broke your heart,” I reminded him.

No more stupid, messy, useless love for me,‘ you said.

I drove the point home, “Remember? We…you and I…both of us…we were crystal clear about that.”

He shrugged and looked back up to me with that sheepish smile of his and those big, soft puppy dog eyes. “Well, it’s also our anniversary today.” He said. “One year since we met. I wanted to make that special at least.”

That’s when I felt it.

Love.

I thought I’d sensed it for some time, now. Those all too familiar angsty pangs were hitting my heart. The butterflies were fluttering in my stomach. Tendrils of aching need began to slither along my flesh. My mouth went so dry that I could barely speak. Somehow I managed to croak out, “Leave.”

But, he didn’t leave. He began walking towards me, his arms wide. I stumbled backwards trying to get away from him and his gifts and, mostly, his Love – that all consuming human emotion that wraps its hungry, suffocating tentacles around you squeezing until you gasp your last breath. Then he uttered that phrase, those three cursed words.

I tried to make him stop – to make it stop. Truly, I did. I demanded that he go away. I pleaded with him to just go outside and walk it off. By then, he was too far gone, I think. That damnable holiday pushed him over the edge. And, by the way, how they co-opted cupid into that commercialized mess is disgusting.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, so you can just spare me the disapproving look. I’m immune to it by now. It’s all my fault, right? I should know better. Blah, blah, blah. I’ve heard it all before. So, you can save the lecture.

In any case, I didn’t do away with this one altogether. Surprised, huh?

That’s right. While he was unable to maintain his self control, I kept my head and let him keep his…sort of. Let’s just say that he’s not the man he used to be and leave it at that, okay?

In all sincerity, I’m going to miss him. I really thought this one was a keeper. I thought he’d be able to resist the urges, the compulsion. Silly, weak mortals.

It’s a pity. Things were going great for almost a year. A year! Instead of blaming me this time, I say that we blame it on Valentine’s Day.

Passionate Hearts & Sexy Scribbles

January was a blur of excitement and I’m shickled titless to share two tidbits of uberniftiness with you.

First – A Hot New Release!

Just in time for Valentine’s Day, the Passionate Ink chapter of the Romance Writers of America has a hot new book out called Passionate Hearts: A collection of Erotic Romance.

Guess who has a story in there? Yes, really. I want you to guess.

No, not her.

No, not him either. Guess again.

Yup. I do! I have a naughty little tale in this steamy anthology. It is called Fluidity.

“Cool title. What’s it about?” you ask?

Well, I’ll give you a hint.

Fluidity is a gallery that draws an audience with very specific tastes. The management caters to those preferences with an ever-revolving selection of art offerings exclusively for those with a refined appetite for the heightened pleasures that flow like sweet honey – thrilling, expensive and utterly intoxicating. Tonight’s Valentine’s Day theme is Living Art for Lovers.

Want more details? Buy the book!

But, wait. There’s more!

From dancers at a masquerade ball to Olympic ski medalists to bakers to lovers from out of this world, there is something for every romantic to savor in this sexy collection! Erotic adventures include:

The Crazy Chick from Valentine’s Day by Cameron Allie
The Huntress and the Hawk: A Masquerade Club Story by Kim Allred
Lower: The Real Fling #1.5 by Lyla Bellatas
Flame’s Burning Valentine by Trinity Blacio
Accidental Cupid by M. Jane Colette
A Jinx, a Journal, and a Juliette by Jane Colt
Just Friends by Cynthia W. Gentry
Fluidity by Moxie Malone <—This is mine!
The Masquerade by Katherine McLellan
Forever Valentine by Kathleen Samuels
Valentine Cookie Magic by Cadence Vonn

All profits from sales will benefit the American Heart Association and ProLiteracy. So, click a link to get your copy.

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON:
USA: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07MMKM1NM/
CANADA: https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B07MMKM1NM/
UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07MMKM1NM/
AUSTRALIA: https://www.amazon.com.au/gp/product/B07MMKM1NM/

Also, I’m a finalist in the Sexy Scribbles contest for my entry of The Call. It’s a story about…oddly enough…a phone call. More details about that story can be found on this site on the “Coming Soon” tab. Feel free to click it right after you click the Amazon link to get your copy of the Passionate Hearts anthology.