tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40579127979825067922024-03-05T10:37:15.256-06:00 The Righteous Perverts Pulpit A Wild Woman's Guide to Smut, Sex, Sass, and General Smart Assiness as presented by The Righteous PervertsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.comBlogger119125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-51696807525750047862014-11-20T14:11:00.004-06:002014-11-20T14:11:51.451-06:00Fear <div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Am I stupid enough to tell you about my biggest fear? Duh,
NO. This blog will be about something I have dreaded for over a year. I still
am not sure about it but I have been assured that it will all be okay and if
not then Mia Ashlinn will be getting her ass kicked. This is about blogging. I
will be the first to tell you I am scared to death of this blog. Dawn Gore
Meador brought this blog site up to me over a year ago. We talked about it but
we wanted to make sure that we had people that would write the blogs. We had
noticed a bunch of people in our group said they liked to write so we thought
now is the time. I talked to the other admins and the blog was born. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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We posted in the group about the blog but only a few people
said they would write blogs. I asked myself, Bitch (yes that is what I call
myself) why does no one want to write a blog for us. I found out when I sat
down to write my first one. The overwhelming fear of the unknown. I was an okay
student but writing scared the crap out of me. I now know what writers go
through but on a much smaller scale. We may get five or six people to read this
blog if we are lucky and count each other. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now on the reason for the fear/freak out. I have found that
when I am writing I cannot separate myself from the subject I am writing about.
Mia said this is a good thing. I am going to trust her this one time and pray
she is right. I decided that my first blog should be the introductory blog. I
guess that makes sense or maybe that is just me talking crazy again. Now I sat
down and put my fingers to the keyboard and nothing. I mean nothing wanted to
come out. The fear was holding me back so I decided I would just randomly put
some thoughts down and then try and make it work. Then like lighting striking
as I started to type my thoughts actually started to make it into sentences.
Once I got started it went fast. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next thing was actually sending it to someone else to
read. This is where the fear really kicked in. I was scared to death, I mean
damn someone else was going to read what I put down and be able to judge me for
my thoughts. On my best day I am a confused mess and this was probably not my
best day. I sucked it up and sent it off to Mia and Luna by personal beta’s. I
think one of the first things Luna said to me was that comma’s were my friends
and I should use them. I then had to explain to her that punctuation was my
nemesis and that I will probably never catch on to it. Hell the only reason anything was spelled
correctly was because spell check is my bestie. I know the word is spelled
wrong but I am at a loss to fix it or maybe I should say it would take me
forever to fix it because I am one of those people that write it out till I get
the spelling correct. I could just look it up but why do things the easy way. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Now on to the really scary part which was content and making
sense. I am still not sure if I make sense in my blogs, goodness knows I have
blog ADD. I am all over the place and many times I have had to take notes
because as I am writing I think of other blogs to write. This is the part where
Luna and Mia come in. They both read it and help me make it better. No they
don’t rewrite it they just help me fine tune it and make sure that I am clear
in my crazy talk. Do I think my blogs are any good? No, but Luna and Mia tell
me they are just like when we talk on skype or on the phone so I guess that is
a good thing. Actually, I am not sure because neither of them have said they
are good just that they are most definitely my thoughts.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I have to wait and see what you all think about my
blogs. My question to you is would you suck it up and write one or are you more
of a reader and commenter?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-6318614091558175532014-11-09T18:15:00.000-06:002014-11-09T18:15:28.866-06:00Too Much of a Good Thing?<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today’s blog is about interaction with authors. Reaching out and touching your favorite
authors (sick puppies get your mind out of the gutter) has been made so much
easier with social media. Is this a good or bad? I guess it depends on the
author. There are a variety of ways to contact your favorites. Most have a
Facebook page or a twitter account. Others just have email accounts and their
websites. Each author is different but for the most part they like the one on
one contact with their fans. Some value
their privacy and are like some of the authors of old who liked to remain
anonymous. Others are out at book
signings and like to greet, shake hands and yap with the crazies otherwise
known as fans. But when does talking with an author become too much? That is
the question we are going to discuss today, really I will be typing about it
and you will be reading about it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I am one of those people who is on Facebook all the time.
I yap with my friends and I know that it is shocking but yes, I do have
friends. I see authors making posts and
commenting on their wall and doing random promoting. I never bother them unless it is a certain
East Tennessee author then I bug the hell out of her. Anyone else I leave
alone. I know that some authors don’t mind if you start chatting with them but
I never want to feel like I am a bother.
I would rather them get their stuff taken care of and get back to the
business of writing the next book. Now
if they comment on something I post or on my wall then they are fair game. I
will chat with them till they have to go or I pass out whichever comes first.
This is the only time that I talk to some of them. I have some as my friends
and have never even spoken to them. I only added them for updates on their
books or blogs (not that I go and check them out very often). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Unless I am contacting an author for a chat I rarely send
them private messages. I know most don’t mind but I also know that there are a few
people who send them messages every day. I have no idea what these messages
could be about since most of the time books are self-explanatory. Maybe they
are shy and want to show their love for a book in private. Me, I like to let
everyone know who I love and how I love them (geez you guys spend a lot of time
in the gutter). If I have a question
about a book then I write it on their wall because if I have that question then
maybe someone else does too. Normally it
is more like “ When am I getting the next book and who is it about?” It may be killing two birds with one stone
which in the end helps the authors get back to the writing, which is the
important thing. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For some fans the line between friend and fan becomes a very
blurred line. For me it is very clear, if they call me just to chat then they
have moved into the friend territory. If they want to talk to me about their
personal lives then we are friends. I know, I am always shocked that anyone
would text or call me if they didn’t have too. Well, except for Mia who just
likes the abuse that I offer long distance. If I know an author’s real name,
their kid’s names, or the author’s favorite sexual position, again I have moved
into friend territory. Even though I am sometimes in the friend zone I still have
trouble calling or texting with authors. I try not to bother them. I never want
to be that friend who is always calling, texting, or showing up on their
doorstep. Normally, that is because after a few times of hiding in their bushes
they serve me with a restraining order but you know it is the price you pay for
being me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Now, if they contact me and ask me about their books or
something related to their work then I am a reader. I think that because we as
readers have more immediate contact with the authors some take it as a personal
relationship. In a way it is but in my mind you must remember that they are
first and foremost authors. They are like anyone else in the public eye. They
are out there selling not just their books but themselves in a non-prostitute
kind of way. It may be a bit easier for me because as an administrator for a
book group, I know that some people try and get in my good graces (like I have
some) so that they can come to the group and pimp their books. Yes, I know that
I am a cynical bitch, but once bitten, twice shy. I try to keep that in mind every time I friend
an author on Facebook or talk to them at a convention. When standing face to
face with an author it is easier for both of us to connect and to know if we
want to be friends or just acquaintances on facebook. But when the person is just lines on a
computer screen it becomes much harder for author and reader. </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know that it is difficult for some authors to balance or
know when the fan has crossed the line. They have to be careful of offending
their readers. It is not so much that they don’t want to talk to them but for
most authors they just don’t have the time to get into one on one conversation
with each and every person. Most of these authors have hundreds of friends or
in some cases thousands. This is not
even counting their fan pages or groups. The thing I think that most readers
need to remember is that if you are constantly sending them messages then they
will not have time to write the books that you want to read.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The question now is are you a fan or someone who has
forgotten where the line is drawn? Don’t worry we have all blurred the line a
few times. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Schmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-42654405367939161652014-09-04T15:22:00.003-05:002014-09-04T15:22:34.326-05:00What is Friendship ???<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To me friendship should be a balance of the two people and
not one person always being the needy one.
Now, I am not going to lie and say that I won’t call you to bitch about
my day or something but then again everyone needs someone to vent to. To me
this is what friendship is about, having someone who you can vent to and know
that they are willing to say get the fuck over it already. Your best friend
should be able to make you laugh even on your worst days. They should make you
feel better about yourself when you hang up the phone or walk away from them.
Even if you are mad at them they should be the one that you think of first or
second (depending on how much you like/love your spouse) when you get great or
terrible news. They will suck it up and do things that they hate just to make
you happy or talk you out of things if it is a terrible idea. This is what I consider
a great friendship, but then again maybe I am wrong in what a friend should be.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think I am a good friend but it seems like my kind of
friendship is too much to ask of someone. I do not ask for a lot from a friend.
I am not one of those people that will call you up all the time crying about
this or that. I am way too private for
that. I am more likely to be the one who
calls and says “So I am in the pokey you want to hit the bail fund and come and
see me?” I will keep your secrets and
hold you when are crying or tell you to shut the fuck up and do something if
you are in a bad situation. I will help you move or beat the crap out of
someone for hurting you. This is what friendship should be. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Over the years I have had a few close friends but it seems
like people can only take my kind of friendship for a few years before they
decide to drop me as a friend. Oh, they say they are busy and just haven’t had
a chance to call or they didn’t realize how long it had been since we have
talked. I call bullshit on this. Now, I have no life and I freely admit it and
I have ample time to talk to friends. I understand that people have families
and other things to do so I try not to bother them too much. But what pisses me
off to no end is when they find a new friend and then the time between calls
gets farther and farther apart. And if by chance you do talk to them, most of
the conversation is about their new friend. To me this is one of the worst acts
of betrayal. It is like calling your ex who still loves you and telling them
all about your new boyfriend. Why do that???? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I used to count a few authors as friends and I found out
that really I was just a dollar to them or a way to get ideas for promo or
basically just to help them in their careers. I have found that a few betrayals
of author friendship has now destroyed my love of reading. I have not read a
new author in well over a year. I have barely been able to read my favorite
authors new work. There are very few exceptions to this, one being Sherrilyn
Kenyon. I have found a few authors and I
like them as people but I have bought their books and nothing happens. I can’t
seem to start their books. For a long time reader this is devastating. It
really does make me want to cry. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have spent thousands of dollars on conventions and found
that I am just another number to most of the authors there; even ones that I
thought were my friends. I may never go
to another one again. I am not saying I
have not met some amazing people there but to me it is just not worth the
disappointment that I feel when I find out that someone I cared about just sees
me as a dollar sign. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That being said I have pulled away from social media a lot
and I am not sure I will ever come back. I will still run RP and post the blogs
that I have written but I am not sure I will write anymore. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic, <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister. <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-5689191594740608732014-09-03T13:20:00.001-05:002014-09-03T18:55:34.257-05:00Charmaine Pauls<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Addictions and obsessions in love<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">“His reason for working, for
making his millions, had suddenly changed course after that night in Zone 11.
His reason for living. If he hated himself for the degraded human being he had
become, he hated her more for making him so. Yet, he stood there and stared at
her, at her beautiful features, her perfect nature, her strength, and felt
every molecule in his body react, come to life. Around her he was a building
volcano. When she was gone, he was nothing but cold ashes. He grimaced. His
life had become one, big black hole. And there was nothing he could do about
it.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Loving
someone madly, obsessively, to the point of addiction can be heaven … or hell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Emilio
Larraín knows what it is to be in hell. He is obsessed. He is addicted. And the
woman he desires with an all-consuming passion belongs to another. To his best
friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
woman of his dreams is Dr. Fraya Riber, genius astronomer. The year is 2165.
After a chemical genocide a new blood type has evolved, and with it, a
biological paring phenomenon, called mating. Females and males can only mate if
the cocktail of hormones are physically compatible. Unknown to them both,
Emilio infected Fraya with a hormone through his saliva when he saved her from
drowning and administered mouth-to-mouth. Now, the new hormone in Fraya’s body
is creating a physical addiction to ensure breeding. Only by falling pregnant
will the addiction be healed. And only Emilio’s sperm can ease the painful
arousal tormenting her body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
spanner in the wheel is that Fraya is engaged to be mated to Gene Anderson, Emilio’s
childhood friend. Fraya owes Gene her life. She is caught between loyalty and
passion. Being O+, one of the last to survive, Fraya is compatible with all
males and can mate any man she wishes. She is free to choose. But having a
choice is not always that easy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Can she
turn her back on the man who pulled her from a burning car wreck and who
carries the scars to remind her, for a desire so hot it is eating her alive? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">And if
she repays Gene’s love and kindness with breaking her promise to him, can she
choose between her dream job, the one thing she has worked for all her life,
and a man who needs her for sex? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">When
choices have to be made, Emilio places his friendship with Gene above his own,
selfish needs. But when Gene gets cold feet on their mating day, Emilio is
willing to do anything to get what he wants. Fraya’s body belongs to him. They
are bound by their addiction. Now, he wants her soul. He is willing to put everything
into the fight. Even if he has to use sex as a weapon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Only one
question remains. Can a physical addiction grow into love?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">The
Astronomer is a futuristic erotic romance that is due for release in November
this year. If you’d like to be informed when the book is released, please
subscribe to my newsletter (which I only mail out when new books are released),
and also stand a chance to win a Kindle Fire. Thanks for having me on the blog!
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Website
link for Rafflecopter giveaway</span></u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?id=175738829145132&story_fbid=742181742500835" target="_blank">https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?id=175738829145132&story_fbid=742181742500835</a><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<u><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">An
excerpt from <b>The Astronomer</b>:<o:p></o:p></span></u></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">He
moved until he stood almost against her, their bodies a hair width apart. He
was much taller, so that her eyes locked onto his powerful torso, and she could
see his chest move with the fast intake of his breath. Fraya’s heart started
pumping furiously, the beat echoed in her aching skull. She felt herself
heating from the inside out, her cold forgotten, her trembling now not related
to the weather at all. She held her breath in a futile effort to stop the
erratic little gulps that had replaced her normal respiration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> What the hell was wrong with her? This
has never happened before. She had a long friendship with Gene before they got
engaged. Falling head over heels in love was not her thing. Neither was getting
weak-kneed for a man she didn’t know from Adam.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He brushed her long hair away from her
face and grabbed it in a ponytail at the base of her neck. “I need to check
this cut, but I’ll have to clean you up first. Can’t see anything through the
mud and twigs.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Only then did she look at the mirror on
the wall. She flinched. What a lovely mess she was. Her hair was tangled, brown
with soil and full of sticks and shafts of grass from the reeds. There was a
little bit of blood on the side of her face. As for the rest of it, she
couldn’t be sure what lay under the dirty streaks covering her cheeks and chin.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Come.” His voice was gentle. “I’ll clean
you up in the shower.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She gaped at him. “You’ll what?” she
finally managed through dry lips. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Instead of <span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Angelique" datetime="2013-08-31T20:40">answering,</ins></span> he
scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom. He left her at a loss for words
on the toilet seat while he turned the tap in the shower on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Drink that.” He pointed at a glass of
water and two painkillers on the side of the basin. “It will help.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Glancing at the pharmaceutical name on
the white tablets, ensuring she recognized the brand, she did as she was told
before sneaking a look at his broad back. Another flash erupted through her
body with a burning sensation that lingered in her spine. Holy crap. Only when
steam filtered into the cubicle, did he turn and kneel in front of her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I’ll have to help you, unless you want
me to dump you on the shower floor.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Help her? A mental picture of them in the
shower invaded her mind and caused a fist of lust to punch her in the gut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Yes, just dump me on the floor.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Not a good idea. We’ll shower in our
underwear. Alright?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He seemed to be very good at giving
reassuring smiles as he gently lifted her arms and pulled her wet shirt over
her head. Her skin burned under his fingertips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> This was so not happening. Her arms went
around her breasts. She watched as he dropped her dirty shirt on the floor
before bending over her, his hands going to the waistband of her shorts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She wanted to protest, to pull away, to
insult him even, but instead she found her body arching forward, obeying the
silent command of his hands when he <span class="msoIns"><ins cite="mailto:Noleen" datetime="2013-08-18T09:56">tugged </ins></span>on the clip button and pulled
down the zip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Lift your ass,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Like a hypnotized snake dancing to the
flute player’s tune, she lifted herself on her arms just enough for him to slip
the pants over her hips, down her legs, and over her ankles. Thank goodness she
was wearing her new push-up bra and matching French panties. NO. What on earth
was she thinking? He picked up her injured foot to study it and, when he had felt
his way around her ankle, his hand smoothed up her calf.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Such a pity to blotch such a perfect
skin,” he mused. “You’re already turning blue.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He straightened abruptly and stripped the
black cycling shorts from his narrow hips, pushing it over his muscular thighs,
until it ended up on the same heap as her soiled garments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was almost too terrified of her
reaction to glance at his black briefs, but she couldn’t help the magnetic
force that pulled her eyes in that direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Fraya thought she saw his lips twitch,
ever so fleetingly. Without another word he picked her up and carried her into
the shower. He positioned her body against the wall and adjusted the spray of
the water to fall over her shoulders. She watched with mesmerized fascination
as he took a sponge and soaped her body. She flinched as his fingers moved over
her ribs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He turned her sideways. “You’re blue
everywhere,” he said, almost sounding angry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She gasped as his fingers trailed a path
to the lower curve of her breast. The heat diffused in her body was now near
painful. Watching her with guarded eyes, he moved the sponge over the sensitive
mounds, teasing her through the fabric of her bra, and she couldn’t help but
close her eyes. She had to make it stop. It took all her willpower to grab his
arm and move it away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I’m not injured there,” she snapped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He didn’t apologize for his wandering
fingers. Instead he clasped her chin in his hand and tilted her head. “I’m
going to wash around the wound. This may sting.” He took the shower nozzle from
its hook and moved it to her head, smoothing back her hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She uttered a cry as the water burned the
cut where her head had taken a knock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Sorry,” he said, smiling apologetically,
his hand moving down and flattening over her tummy, as if he could sense her
discomfort and spasms. The warmth of his palm sent shockwaves over her skin.
They exploded and rippled to a part of her body that begged for release. She
needed to get out of here. Her body shook, her knees battling to carry her
weight. Even as she braced her back against the wall, moving away from him, her
hips tilted forward. Her mind was going to dissolve. She could feel reason
slipping away. She gazed up at him in awed shock, biting her lip so hard she
tasted blood. What was going on? That knock had crippled her brain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Oh, baby,” he said, groaning and resting
his forehead on hers, “if you tease me by pushing your thighs against me like
this,” he looked down, “I can’t promise that I’ll keep my hands to myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She followed his gaze and sucked in her
breath. “Oh. Sorry. I… You’re hard… I mean…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He laughed softly, but his voice was
strained. “I’m turned on. And so are you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He studied her, his eyes sharp and
clever. Of course she was. It was a bit hard to deny when you had your pelvis pressed
into a man’s private parts and your thigh draped around his ass. She tried to
flatten herself further against the wall and turned her head away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over
me. Must be the bump I took to my head.” She looked back at him and whimpered.
“Oh God, what’s wrong with me? What did you do to me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He took her face between his hands. “I
don’t know, but you did the same thing to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I should go. This frightens me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He kissed her forehead. A wave of
intolerable want crashed over her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I know, baby. Stay. Let me make it
better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “There’s something wrong with me. The
fall, the knock, did something.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Don’t lie about what you feel. You know
we both want it. We’ve wanted it since I’ve laid my hands on you in that
forest. I can see it in your eyes.” His hand stroked up her thigh, cupping her
hip, sending a delicious shiver through her. “I can feel it under my palms.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s
wrong with me.” She paused as another attack weakened her knees. “I can’t,” she
whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His stare was imploring. Suddenly a dark,
predatory look came over him. He took her left wrist and turned it up. He
closed his eyes fleetingly and breathed in. His thumb brushed over the
untainted skin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “You don’t have a mark. You’re not mated.
Then why won’t you accept me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She grasped for the final shred of reason
that remained in her dazed mind. “This isn’t right. I don’t do things like
this. I don’t pick up men and have … do stuff…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “But you want to. If the physical signs I
read in your body are anything to go by, you’re suffering as much as I am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Just let me get out of here. Please.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He watched her for another moment before
his look shifted. “Warmer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She nodded, not trusting her voice to
speak.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He turned off the water. “Stay there.” He
reached for a towel and draped it around her, before he tied another one around
his waist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She couldn’t object as he lifted her from
the shower onto the bath rug. She could only watch as he toweled her dry,
carefully inspecting the marks the accident had left on her body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Finally, gently wringing the water from
her hair, he bent down, and when she least expected it, brushed his lips over
her jaw. It was almost her unmaking. Her hands found his shoulders, her nails
digging into his skin as he scraped his teeth down her neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She gasped, trying to push him away, the
need and pain now unbearable. “You’re torturing me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He immediately let go. “Look at me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She almost cried out, torn between guilt
and need as she fought for control, her eyes pinched shut, her only awareness
the craving of her flesh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His voice drifted back to her. “Baby,
look at me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She opened her eyes reluctantly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Does it feel like a thousand nails are
shooting into your gut?” he said softly. “Like your skin is on fire and your
insides are being ripped apart?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She blinked. “How do you know?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Because that’s what you do to me. Your
touch on my skin, it burns me alive. And it’s getting worse. Since we’ve left
that damn forest it’s gone from a spark to a fucking intolerable fire. Just let
me make it better.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “How?” she asked uncertainly. “How can
you know what to do if we don’t even know what’s wrong with us?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He smiled wryly, his grin now almost a
grimace. “Maybe it’s not that there’s something wrong with us. Maybe it’s just
perfectly right.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “You’re not talking any sense.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “It’s not talking we want to do, and you
know it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was close to tears now, biting back
the pain as it hit her between her knees. “I can’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I’m at the end of my control, seeing you
suffer like this.” His voice held a warning. “Why won’t you? Tell me your
reasons. Just let me assure you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Oh, she had reasons, alright. She
belonged to another. “The guilt...” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His fingers enclosed on her wrist, the
left arm, and brought it slowly to his mouth. When his lips touched the flesh
meant for the mating mark, her eyes fluttered close. His wicked tongue licked
over the spot, sending a shiver down her spine that had her arching her back.
Her control unraveled when he nipped at her skin with his teeth. A cry escaped
her lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His other hand went to her hair, pulling
back her head, exposing her ear for his lips. His words breathed over her, soft
brushes of air. “What if you don’t have a choice? Would that take away the
guilt?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I don’t understand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “If I tie you up, you won’t have a
choice.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “What?” Her eyes widened but the fire had
already pooled out to every crevice and peak of her body. Alarmed and surprised
that his words had such an effect on her, she took a step back and flinched
when she put her weight on her swollen ankle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His grip tightened in her hair. “You’re
frightened. Of your feelings. We’ll play a game. I’ll tie you to my bed so that
I can take you, do with you as I please. You won’t have control. And you
needn’t feel guilty.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Her lips parted in both shock and
excitement as she stared at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His
finger traced her bottom lip. “You have a perfect mouth. And a perfect body.
You’re so small, so tiny.” He frowned. “How old are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Twenty-seven,” she said, her eyes fixed
on his hypnotic mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Ah. Good.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She pulled her arm free. “I should go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “How unlikely is it for two people to be
out in a forest, in a foreign zone, in a rainstorm, on exactly the same day, at
exactly the same time? How unlikely to feel, to burn, like we do?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She shook her head in a weak attempt at
denial. “I don’t get what you’re insinuating.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “This was meant to be.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She shook her head again and opened her
mouth, but he placed a finger over her lips. Convulsions of pleasure ripped
through her. “Feel that. Feel what my touch does to you. I never do this kind
of thing either.” His voice lowered. “I need you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Oh God. I can’t do this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “You don’t have to do anything. Let me
seduce you. I’ll take care of everything.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Her body was a trembling mass. “You don’t
understand. I’m–”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I have to have you. I feel like I’ll die
if I don’t. I swear to God, this is the first time I’m saying this to someone,
the first time I’m feeling this … this … craziness. And it’s killing me. Give
me your control. That’s all I’m asking.” He closed the space she had put
between them. “I could take your control with one kiss. I know I can, because
that’s how close I am to losing mine. But I don’t want to steal it. I want you
to give it to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His closeness was like a powerful drug.
She felt her strength falter as her need spiked. “I don’t like not to be in
control.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “You only have to say the word, and I’ll
untie you. I won’t do anything you don’t want, or like.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was crazy, for sure, because for an
insane second she conjured an image of her tied to his bed, his muscular body
posed over her, and she felt her breath quicken painfully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Trust me,” he said gently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “And why would I trust a complete
stranger?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She looked at the door, but she already
knew she wasn’t going anywhere. The strange thing was that she did trust him.
There was no doubt in her mind he would let her hop through the door right now
if she wished. The problem was that she couldn’t turn away from her bizarre
craving. They both knew there was no way either one of them could walk away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> Fraya guessed he had sensed her
hesitation, because he took it as his cue to lift her and swiftly move into the
bedroom, depositing her in front of the bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> His hands went to the clasp of her bra,
while his mouth went to her ear. “There’s one condition. If you don’t intend to
honor it, tell me now, and I’ll let you go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was beside herself with need. She was
wild, panting. His hands smoothed down her back and she dug her nails into her
palms not to wrap her legs around him and beg him for release. Her bra dropped
to her feet. She craved him so badly she felt feverish. She wanted nothing more
than to feel his skin against hers, but he held her at arm’s length. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Listen to me. This is important.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was going out of her mind and he was
still talking?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Open your eyes, baby. Just for a second.
What did I say?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “A condition?” she said in a haze,
forcing her eyes to focus on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I don’t do holiday romances. Neither
once-offs.” His hand slipped into her panties, forcing the elastic over her
hip. “If I have you, I’m going to have you again and again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She moaned under his hot hands.
Scorching, burning, hands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Please,” she begged. Nothing had ever
felt this good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He nibbled at her ear. “Do you get it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She was going to faint. “Yes,” she
whispered. She couldn’t care one way or the other for his conditions now. She’d
say whatever he wanted to hear, as long as he didn’t stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “I’m going to tie you up now, baby, so
that I can make you come in ten different ways. Do you understand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> She nodded. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Tell me you want it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Yes.” Oh, yes. She wanted it more than
she’d wanted anything in her life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> He paused. “Look at me.” He took her chin
to aid in his command. “If you want me to stop, or to untie you, just say the
word, and I will. Understand?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"> “Mmm.” She pushed her body against his
and slipped her hands into his briefs, forcing it down his legs with hurried
passion. She heard him gasp, and then she felt herself being lifted quickly,
gently, and carried to his bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Author website<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.charmainepauls.com/" target="_blank">www.charmainepauls.com </a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Follow
me on Facebook<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://bit.ly/Charmaine-Pauls-Facebook" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/Charmaine-Pauls-Facebook</a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="MsoHyperlink"><b><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;">Follow me on Amazon<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<a href="http://bit.ly/Charmaine-Pauls-Amazon" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/Charmaine-Pauls-Amazon</a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Follow me on Goodreads<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<a href="http://bit.ly/Charmaine-Pauls-Goodreads" target="_blank">http://bit.ly/Charmaine-Pauls-Goodreads</a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Follow me on Twitter<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-74491252992375850952014-08-27T19:43:00.000-05:002014-08-27T19:43:03.631-05:00The Decline of My Love<div class="MsoNormal">
I am very passionate about today’s subject. I am not going to be
talking about anyone specific because I don’t roll that way but more of a
general feeling I have been getting lately. I have been a reader most of my
life. I have always had great respect for authors or anyone who even attempts
to put words on a page. I have been writing these blogs for about 15 months and
there are days when I want to bang my head against the wall. This is the reason
I had great respect for authors. Don’t get me wrong I still have love for most
authors but I have seen a disturbing trend lately.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few years ago it would have been just a pipe dream to talk
to an author but with Facebook and other social media it makes authors so much
more accessible to the reader. Is this a good thing I think so in most cases.
It makes the reader feel closer to the author. Now I will tell you as a reader
there are a few authors that if they asked me to clean their house I probably
would jump at the chance. Most readers would. I think some authors are taking
advantage of the love readers hold for them. Now I am not bashing the authors I
am just adding my two cents into a discussion I have had with multiple people
both in the reading world and outside of it. I work with people who I sometimes
respect and so I ask their opinions and then there is my family who some of
which are readers and some are not. I have gotten views from members of the
Righteous Perverts and other places as well so here goes my rant.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hate street teams. I feel like a street team is buying
readers affection and in a way it is using them. Most readers would give their
left arm to help an author that they love. I get that an author has to promote
themselves because most publishers do not. My thing is that with most street
teams the author is giving swag away to the members of their teams. Yes, they
do expect the team members to also give the swag away to other people and to
share their links and websites on their Facebook pages. Do the readers like the
authors or their books, sure they do. Do they want the author to do well and
write more books, yes. But to me this promotes ass kissing. If you are
receiving free swag then you are not promoting the author because you love
their books you are doing it to get free stuff. If you have read a book and not
liked it then you are in the position of promoting something that you don’t
believe in. Some will pimp an author or a book to get more stuff. I know some
authors want their fans to be honest with them. Yes, I do know that some of
them have street teams but to me the members of the teams cannot be an honest
judge of a book because they are in a way being paid to promote the book/
author just not in money. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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Now the actual promoting. Most of you know that I am one of
the administrators of The Righteous Perverts. We are a group that is about 115
members of which half is probably authors. We do allow authors to pimp their
books, blogs and contests in the group. We also expect them to participate in
other threads as well. If they do not then just like any other member they will
be removed. That being said we do not get free anything. We have had authors
run contests in the group but it is rare that it happens. They usually just
tell us that they are running a contest on their blog or site so that we know.
We do not allow street team members to promote in our group either. To me this
is the way an author should promote. Reach out to your fans and if they want to
share your book or you as an author then they are going to do it because they
love you or your book. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now onto the fact that how many people are the street teams
really reaching? I do know that some people have several hundred friends on
Facebook but how many of them are readers? Next up if they are putting the
bookmarks and things in stores or the library they are going straight to the
trash because most places do not allow that. If you have pimped your author at
your hairdresser or for that matter at your bookclub meeting then how many new
people are you reaching? If you have mentioned the book or the author then you
can cross those people off your list because if you keep telling them then they
are going to feel like they are being hounded. Are you seeing where I am going
with this? There is no way for anyone to really reach that many people. I think
authors are better off spending their time and or money doing interviews with
magazines or bloggers or book clubs rather than expecting 10 or 15 people to
reach a mass audience. This is just not going to work and I think that in the
end it will create hard feelings of other fans for the authors. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a fan of several authors I sometimes feel like we are
being ditched or that authors do not appreciate the people who have been with
them from the beginning. I refuse to join a street team although I have been
asked. I keep my friends list low on purpose. Most of the people on my list do
not read so that kills me pimping out there. I work in a store and I do pimp
there but I do it by suggesting authors or books even though our store does not
carry them. I have lists already made up to hand out to people who are asking
for help finding a good romance to read. I do something unique I talk to them,
I find out what they are looking for, I tell them if I have met an author and
how that author acted. How nice they were or how good their books are. I do this free of charge because I want my
authors to do well and to be successful in their careers. I do not expect the
author to give me anything for it. I do it because I want others to experience
the joys of getting lost in the pages of a book. I do it to get people to read.
I know I sound like a librarian but books have been a way for me to experience
things that otherwise I would never know about. Yes, I have told people that they should read
the book even if it wasn’t the author’s best work but I also am honest with
people and if they ask me if I liked the book then I give them the truth. I
tell them that this particular book is not the best the author has written but
I do like the book. If the book sucks and someone asks me about it then I tell
them that they should try another book by the author. This is the way an honest
reader shows their favorite authors the love because they are not being paid to
do it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now as my rant draws to a close the line forms to the left
for my lynching and you can send me my hate mail in the comments so it can be
repeated over and over again.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-13431022144413967492014-08-20T21:30:00.000-05:002014-08-20T21:30:08.041-05:00Death <div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This blog is really about death. Everyone will experience
death. Not only their own but those of loved ones. We all deal with the loss of
someone differently. There will always be sadness when you think of them. Even
time will not erase that feeling but each day you it will hurt a little less
till you only remember the good times and you forget the bad. And with grief
comes guilt. I am not sure why this is but no matter how much time you spend
with them when someone dies you always think to yourself that I should have
been around more or I should have told them that I loved them. Things like that
will always haunt you but you have to get over it. Most people let death send
them into a depression and the land of what if’s. This to me maybe the worst
thing about dealing with deaths of people you love. Sometimes you just have to
believe that you may have not spent enough time with them but they knew you
loved them even if you didn't tell them everyday. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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As a kid I spent a lot of time dealing with death. I was
born when my mother was forty so all of our relatives were older than dirt to
a kid. As a result I was being dragged to funerals as far back as I can
remember. Now my family was Catholic so there was a lot of planning and praying
at least at church. When we ended up at home though it was a totally different
story. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I can remember sitting around and listening to the adults
gossiping about whomever had died. I know that most people would call it
disrespectful but they were dead so I am guessing they didn't mind. I can still
see my Grandmother and all the old biddies sitting around the kitchen table
just telling stories of everyone. Let me tell you these women didn't hold
anything back. They reminisced about the good times and the bad. I heard things
that a child should never know about their family or anyone else for that
matter. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sitting around and listening to these women talked taught me
a valuable lesson. People may seem good and decent but in the end we all have
our vices. Others seem like terrible people but they had good qualities as
well. I learned that there are so many varying degrees of good and bad that you
just have to accept that people are not perfect and sometimes they will find
the wrong road and take it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I know a lot of people find my family’s way of dealing with
death as strange because we don’t sit around crying and wailing but that is
just not our way. We always want to remember the ones who passed away but we do
it in the most honest way possible. We all get together and do exactly what my
Grandmother and her friends taught us. We sit down and talk about whoever died.
We talk about the good, the bad, and the ugly. We never put the person on a
pedestal and we know that in the end we cannot judge because when we die our
family will still be doing the same thing except we will be the one being
talked about. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-84993700264454397262014-08-05T20:17:00.000-05:002014-08-05T20:17:59.900-05:00Fantasy Fix<div class="MsoNormal">
Before you continue reading I should tell you that I just found this blog from over a year ago. Luna and wrote this and I miss her so I wanted to post it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Demented Duo are Back to Blog Another Day!! Totally
sounds like a movie title doesn’t it. Today’s blog is brought to you by Pepsi,
Lipton, Ruffles and Hostess. There that is our product placement, I wonder if
we can get some free stuff from that promo. Yep, we are sugared up and it is
late so this should be interesting. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, we are not going to tell our deepest, darkest, twisted
fantasies at least not in this blog. That may crop up in the porn blog though
so keep checking back. This blog is actually a continuation of our wordy
television blog. This is the blog we were going to write till we got
sidetracked by our childhood tv memories. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Fantasy what a wonderful word. So a cop who sees monsters,
two demon hunting brothers (who happen to be hot) and prince charming go into a
bar………… yep totally sounds like a
fantasy for us. Have you figured it out yet Miss Marple? No? Fine we will tell
you what today’s blog is about, it is about fabulous fantasy based shows that
we are fixated on. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The first show up for discussion is Supernatural. Wow, how
the hot keep getting hotter. Season eight is done and the guys are just as hot
now as they were when the show started. Now if you have lived in a cave for the
last eight years let us tell you a bit about the show. Two brothers were taught
by their father to hunt supernatural beings after their mother was killed by a
demon. Did we mention that Dean (Jensen Ackles) and Sam (Jared Padalecki) are
delicious. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Although Dean and Sam are the main characters there have
been a lot of supporting characters that we have loved and hated. Their father
was played by Jeffery Dean Morgan (hot).
Dad died when he traded his soul to save Sam. This brought Bobby to the show
who became the surrogate father to the boys. He was their go to man on all
supernatural info until they killed him off. They have been helped by other
supernatural hunters like Jo, Ellen and Ash. Then there is Castiel the Angel in
a trench coat( love him). <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Now what do the brothers really do you ask? They hunt down
demons, vampires, and trace all weird beings and mysterious goings on. A lot of
these are based on urban legends, folk lore, classic mythology and ghost
stories. All of these things are accompanied by a classic rock soundtrack and
Dean’s classic 67 Chevy Impala that he lovingly calls Baby.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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Supernatural is one of the best written shows and they never
take themselves too seriously. Every word is written with tongue firmly in
cheek. This is never more apparent than in The French Mistake. If there is one
episode that we would recommend to someone this is it. The show has all kinds
of hidden snarky moments and if you are a faithful watcher you will catch them.
Even though this show has scary moments it is not your normal gross out horror
fest. We both put this is in our top 5 shows. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Next up for the Demented Duo is Grimm. Love, love, love this
show. I checked and yep it is a three love show. Even though we are only on the
second season I can’t imagine that we will ever fall out of love with Grimm.
One of the reasons we love it is its originality. They have a totally new take
on the monsters of the Grimm fairytales. This show is well written and the
actors chemistry is amazing. David Giuntoli plays Nick a Portland cop who finds
out when his aunt is dying that the family has a supernatural talent. They are
called Grimm’s and their ability to see the true beings behind the masks that
they wear as humans. Nick’s life is complicated because he has to hide the
family secret from his fiancé Juliette(Bitsy Tulloch). Juliette has no idea of
the monsters that lurk in their human skin or Nick’s ability to see them.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the past his family hunted down and killed the Wesen
otherwise known as the monsters from the fairytales. Nick is a different kind
of Grimm, he asks questions to determine if the Wesen are a danger to humans or
each other. He is helped in his job by his partner Hank played by Russell
Hornsby. When Nick needs help with a Wesen problem he calls on Monroe ( Silas
Weir Mitchell), what can we say about that Blutbad (the big bad wolf), other
than we love him. He brings some much need fun to each episode. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are several ongoing storylines, but they do not
confuse you as a watcher. Captain Renard is played by the talented Sasha Roiz.
He has his own secrets as a half Wesen bastard prince. We can’t wait for each
new episode to air so we can watch it and then have a discussion on what we
think is going to happen next.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The third and final fantasy fix is the fabulous sophomore
show, Once Upon a Time. Another ensemble cast with amazing chemistry. The
entire cast has dual roles in this show. The story starts with Henry an
adorably precocious child played by Jared Gilmore. He is given a fairytale book
that he believes is the story of his town Storybrook, Maine. He runs off to
Boston to find his birthmother Emma (Jennifer Morrison) and convinces her to
take him home to Maine. His adopted mother is Mayor Regina Mills (Lana
Parrilla). When they reach the town Regina antagonizes Emma so she decides to
stay in Storybrook. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The book was given to Henry by his teacher Mary Margaret (Ginnifer
Goodwin). Henry believes that all the stories in the book are true and sets
about convincing Emma to believe them as well. He tells her of the curse that
the evil Queen Regina has placed on Fairytale Lands. The Evil Queen believes
that Snow White betrayed her and that is why she cursed the lands. The only one
who can break the curse is Snow White and Prince Charmings’ daughter. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The curse took the memory of everyone who lived in Fairytale
Land and moved them to Storybrook. When Emma checks into Granny’s Bed and
Breakfast, Mr Gold (Robert Carlyle) hears her name and it triggers his memory
and he remembers his past life as the evil Rumplestiltskin in Fairytale Land.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Episode by episode you are introduced to both the current
character and their fairytale counterpart. Henry must convince Emma that she is
the daughter of Snow White/ Mary
Margaret and Prince Charming/David Nolan (Josh Dallas). She is the only one who
will be able to break the curse and with each episode she believes a little
more. Finally Emma believes when Henry is accidently poisoned and she and
Regina must work together to save his life. Woven into the both stories you
have the classic fairytale mixed with a new twist, and that is one of our
favorite things about this show. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you want to escape reality for a while try one of our
fantasy fix favorites. Or do you already have them all on your dvr? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic, and the <br />
Shmuttmeister Lost Luntic</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-7819781541150942072014-07-30T20:12:00.001-05:002014-07-30T20:12:33.927-05:00Multifarious <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I totally used Google on this title. I wanted something
different and I think I may have found a new favorite word. I thought I would
write a blog on music. Most people describe my music as eclectic or just all
over the place so I wanted a title that said that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have all read that a lot of authors listen to music when
they write. I am not sure how they do this because I find myself singing and
not writing. Music used to be a passion of mine that I am finding I am
reverting too. As a few of you know I am
child number ten out of eleven. That’s
right I have nine older siblings. What
can I say my Momma was slow to figure out where babies came from. But back to the subject at hand, growing up
with all those older siblings I was exposed to a lot of music. My oldest sister
who was in charge of babysitting was sixteen when I was born so music was
something that was always around. I grew up with the music of the sixties and
seventies. My sisters loved everything from rockabilly to surf music. My
parents were hard core country fans but my Momma’s secret passion was the music
of Big Bands. As I got older my brother’s influence kicked in, mostly in the
seventies and then it was all about Kiss and other hard rock bands. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never really got into music till I was a teen that meant
the eighties, yep I was a hair metal junkie. I loved all the bands. We didn’t
have the money for a lot of purchases so it was all about the radio. Yes, we
did tape our favorite songs from the radio to cassettes (yes you can Google
cassette and see what I am talking about).
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My very first concert was The Bay City Rollers, I do still
love a Scottish accent. I was maybe seven and my sister Marina was going to get
to go see them at the Illinois State Fair. I was devastated because I couldn’t
go but my sister Sharon who was taking Marina couldn’t stand the crying so she
gave me her ticket. She made me a little
plaid outfit (thank Gods there are no pictures of that) and off I went. I can
remember standing in my seat just singing along with all the songs. It was the best time ever for a seven year
old!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never had the opportunity to go to another concert till I
was a teen. One of my friends from school was able to get tickets to see Duran
Duran in St. Louis. I had never been to St. Louis at that point. OMG it was a
shock coming from nowhere Illinois to a city. I couldn’t stop looking at all
the buildings and more people than I have ever seen in my life. Back to the music, I had so much fun it was
insane. When we got back to school on Monday we were the popular girls for
about five minutes. One of my favorite classes was choir. I probably can’t
carry a tune in a bucket but loved to sing. I hated the song choices but
whatever. The best part of choir was every Friday, the choir director did his
own thing during that hour so he put on a mix tape of classical music. This was
my first exposure to the classics and I fell in love with them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As I became a young adult my music taste shifted to country.
I became obsessed with Garth Brooks, Clint Black, Reba McEntire, and all the
country artists of the nineties. I am not sure why the shift happened but I
loved it. I was on my own somewhat (I shared an apartment with my sister) and I
had my own money to spend. One of the happiest days of my life was when I found
out that a small little town about 20 minutes south of Springfield was opening
an old movie theatre and putting in a stage for country concerts. I saw lots of
the big name artists there. In a five year span I probably went to 300
concerts. When the owners retired the
place closed down and my music seemed to fall by the wayside. I started to read
even more. Television became my addiction. I seemed to lose interest in most
music. There were no bands that inspired me to become a rabid fan. I am not
saying that I didn’t listen to it; it just wasn’t a big part of my life any
longer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then one day I was at work and at the time Target had tv’s
playing video’s and music above the entertainment section. I heard something
different and yet intriguing to me. It was a pop song that I had never heard. I
asked my music man; Andy and he told me it was a new band called Maroon 5. I
thought it was just one song that caught my attention but as the weeks went on
Target added more songs by Maroon 5. I became addicted to singing them. I ended up buying the cd. I became a huge
fan. I then started to get back into music. I started to buy more cd’s and
ended up with a huge collection. I started becoming a pop music girl again till
I heard Nickelback. Then I moved on to hard rock again. Lately I have been
hearing a lot of country being played so now I am back to being eclectic in my
music choices. One of my boys at work, Zach made fun of my music choices and
decided I needed to broaden my horizons. He loaded a thumbdrive with tons of alternative/rock
songs for me. I am happy to say he has some good taste. One of my other boys,
Lance cannot be out done so he is now loading more music for me to try out. I
love that these boys feel the need to search out music for me because it is
something I probably would not have done on my own. I now know who some of
these new artists are before they really have any hits. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I think music says a lot about a person. Mine says I am all
over the place and that I am open to all types of music. If I looked through
your music collection what would I find and what do you think it would say
about you?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-55932430261246656812014-07-23T17:50:00.001-05:002014-07-23T17:50:10.579-05:00The Joy Of ......<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nope,this is not about sex well I guess it could be but it’s
not so nanananana. This blog is about skype. Yes, I will admit it I am a skype
whore. I talk to a couple of people daily on skype. Why do you ask?? Because I
am a yappy bitch. Most of the time I am chatting with Luna but lately I have
been skyping with Mia. Why would I want to do that, because I feel sorry for
her. I am just messin with Mia, in truth it is because skype makes it so much
easier to multi-task. For instance as I type this we are both writing a blog,
me for The Righteous Perverts Pulpit and she is writing one for her personal
blog. Well kind of she is writing for a blog hop. This makes it easy for me to
tell her she is doing a great job (even when she sucks). <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have found that skype is both a blessing and a curse.
Let’s start with the blessing. I guess that means I have to be positive so this
may kill me. I have had skype for over a year but it has only been the last
couple of months that I have started my love affair with it. It started out as
a way to screw over the phone companies who charge way too much to call The
Great White North. So suck it AT&T.
I am I know I am getting ready to ramble on about the evil telephone
companies but I have caught myself so back to the blog. I only have a few
people on skype mainly because I don’t like people but I also think that it is
because most people have not thought about using skype or are afraid of it. I
know I was one of those who had no idea how to use it and really still don’t
but I can figure it out and if not I am not afraid to call someone and ask. Now
I guess I should clarify I do not use the video part of skype because I like to
skype nekkid. Yep, that put a bad visual in your melon didn’t it. I am just
messing with you……….. maybe. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Now I am going to talk about skype courtesy. Yes, I know
most people use it but there are some that are oblivious to it. Please warn
someone if you are going to be eating while skyping. If you feel the need to
eat try to munch on something that is not going to be too loud. It is just kind
of gross to hear crunching on the other end of the call. By the way if you are
skyping and eating chips I just visualize that you are gnawing on a dog
biscuit. Next up is leaving the computer while talking. When Luna and I skype
we both take a break at the same time to refill our drinks or take a tinkle
break. See we have a plan when we skype,
we are just good like that. Now the one I am guilty of is sometimes while I am
yappin’ my sister will step into the room and ask me a question or just yell it
at me. I will answer her or just flip her the bird depending on where she is. I
try not to do it but sometimes it just happens. <o:p></o:p></div>
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On to my favorite thing which is bitching. One of the evils
of skype is the fact that the call quality sometimes is bad. There have been
many a time that while I am in the middle of watching porn with Luna and Mia
that skype just drops the call. It is very annoying and I want to hunt down the
techs and beat them. The other thing the we have had happen is that a
commercial with randomly start playing. I have no idea what that is about. I
have had to contact them for things like that but for the most part I just
bitch about it and fill out the surveys.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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There you go that is my take on skype and I think that most
people should use it. Now since I like to ask questions here is today’s. Are
you a skyper or do you still spend a small fortune on your phone bill? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-79466273165713304052014-07-16T13:31:00.002-05:002014-07-16T13:31:15.131-05:00The Mia Experience <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I have already told you about
getting to know Mia and now I am going to tell you a little story about meeting
her for the first time. Let me see if I remember the details. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I had been chatting with Mia for
about six or seven months when the idea of trying to get together came up. A group of us Righteous Perverts were talking
about the Romantic Times convention and how it was in Chicago that year. I live about three hours away and several
other Perverts lived close too so we all decided to try and meet up there. Now
if you have not been to RT I will just tell you that it is expensive. We all
decided to do just a day trip so we could go to the signing but really we were
all just looking for an excuse to get together. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
I took the train and Sheri Vidal
and her spawn, Mikey picked me up at the station and we headed off to the
hotel. It was about a thirty minute drive and we just chatted away the same way
we do on Facebook. Did I mention this was the first time I also met Sheri. This is where things get fuzzy for me. I
remember getting to the hotel and we headed up to our room where the fourth
member of our party, Dawn was waiting. I called Mia and told her what room we
were in and she had to go to retrieve her bags from another author’s room where
she had stashed them when she arrived. While we were waiting on Mia, I called
our good friend Kris Cook and let him know we had arrived. While waiting we
realized that we had a smaller room that we were supposed to so Dawn went all
sweet and forceful on the hotel and we had to move to another room. Kris and cover artist Kendra Egert arrived in
our room and we all started chatting. We were having a good time just yappin
when there was a knock at the door. I went and opened it and there she was
standing there looking a bit nervous. MIA ASHLINN in the flesh. She came in and
hugs were exchanged and from that moment on there was no separating us. She was just like she was online….not. She is
actually kind of shy but you would never know it if you talk to her. I thought
she might pass out when she noticed all the other people in our room. I am sure it was a really overwhelming for
her because I had already met Kris, Dawn, and Kendra and I was a bit nervous. Once
Mia relaxed we had nothing but fun and she is very quick witted and says some
of the most lovably dorky things. We all hit it off and hung out just being
friends. We went to the autograph
signing and Kris kidnapped Mia and took her around to meet all these authors. I
think she was a bit shell shocked by Kris. He is one of our favorite authors
and one of the most wonderful people I have ever met but shy is one thing he is
not. The signing was fun and we met lots
of our favorite authors and we fell right into our friendship like we had met a
thousand times before. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
We went out to dinner just the four
of us and Mikey. We were heading back to
our room after dinner when the most exciting thing happened. We passed Anne
Rice in the hallway. We all looked at each other and Dawn being Dawn she
stopped and turned around and asked Ms. Rice if we could get our pictures taken
with her. She was so sweet and her son was nice enough to take all the pictures
we wanted. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
After we calmed down we went down
to the lounge and met up with some of the other Siren authors and just had a
great time. We talked way into the night and did a few touristy things on
Sunday before we all had to head home. We all had a great time and have met several times since that weekend and always had a great time.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
That is the first time I had ever
met Mia and maybe next time I will tell you of the time I slept with her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic, <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-26582105380529745792014-07-11T12:30:00.002-05:002014-07-11T12:30:32.971-05:00Surrounded But Alone<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> So, I am sitting here at the St Louis airport
watching all the people rushing around and I still have almost two hours to
wait. I have noticed something and yes it is kind of funny that I am writing a
blog talking about the fact that everyone here is on a phone or computer. I
remember when you would actually talk to people. Now it seems that everyone is
in their own little world. No one bothers to get to know each other or even
looks up from their devices to engage the person that is sitting just inches from
you. Hell, if I am close enough to smell your breath then the least you can do
is smile at me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I like to
people watch and if I catch someone’s eye when they do glance up it seems like
I am creepy by the look they give me.
Even if I am smile at them and pretend that I like them they are a
little freaked out. There are maybe 50
or 60 people sitting around me all of them are so consumed by their devices
that they are not even noticing that their planes are boarding and then they
are rushing to get on the plane since they waited till the last minute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Now, I check
my phone for calls and text but really I don’t usually do much playing on
Facebook or twitter or whatever other social media is hot right now. I will
admit I posted a few pictures this time. I take pictures regularly but I rarely do I
post them unless there is something going on. This time lots of people wanted
to know where I was so I tried to keep them abreast of my adventure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sitting in
airports is still new to me therefore I am still excited to look around. Since
I travel by myself I want to share my excitement with the people around me and
to find out all the little tricks to travel. But I am afraid to bother someone
so here I sit a bit bored. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can
remember traveling as a kid, with my family, in the grocery getter, otherwise
known as a stationwagon. We would pile
in and stop for picnic lunches at a park or just in the woods near whatever
road we were on. Those are some of my
favorite memories. Just stopping somewhere and getting out and talking to
strangers who happened to be around. They always made the trip more
interesting. They would tell us about their town and anything that might be in
the vicinity that we might find fun. We learned about their lives and everyone
shared a fond memory of their own. Conversations like these with people made us
all feel like we were connected if even for a minute with someone else in the
world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I miss
learning about others and what makes them tick because everyone is wrapped up
in their own lives. All of the gadgets
that we all carry help isolate us when they were originally intend to bring the
world closer together. So the next time
you are sitting around an airport or a train station put down your devices and
look around and I bet you can find someone to connect with if even for a
moment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sinfully
Sarcastic, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shmuttmeister <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-43762585081289767162014-07-03T06:47:00.000-05:002014-07-03T06:47:04.243-05:00And Now A Word From A Guest Blogger <div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
(Tap, tap, tap) Is
this thing on? Testing one, two, three.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hi, my name is Robin and I would like to get out my soapbox
for a minute and talk to you about reviews. That’s right, reviews. Those reader
comments that authors have a love/hate relationship with.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a reviewer for a blog, I take reviewing very seriously.
Do I get paid for it? Of course not. In a perfect world, I could make a living
doing it but no such luck at this time. What qualifies me to be a reviewer?
First of all, I am a romance novel addict. I have been reading romances since
my teens, which if you do the math, comes to more than 35 years. As a fan, I
have read a lot of books and have a pretty good handle on what works and what
doesn’t. I also have never had much of a problem sharing my opinion whether
you’ve asked for it or not.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I do have other qualifications. I graduated from the
Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Telecommunication with a Bachelor’s in
Journalism. Sounds fancy, right? What that means is I know how to write and I take
my writing very seriously. I even specialized in Public Relations so I have
written more press releases and articles for newspapers than I would like to
admit to.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So when the opportunity came about to write reviews for a
blog, I jumped at the chance to combine my education with my passion. I went
into reviewing a bit naïve. I thought that others had the same attitude to
reviews that I did – professional, thoughtful and respectful. Wow did I get my
eyes opened the hard way. I started to read other reviews and was shocked at
many of them. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of reviewers that write
quality, honest reviews that I admire. But it seems there are more that don’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve seen reviews saying that they didn’t like a book
because there was too much graphic sex. Gee, that would be why the book came
with a disclaimer that there is a lot of graphic sex in it. I’ve seen reviews
that say an author should find another career. Excuse me? Maybe that reviewer
should find a different career. I’ve seen reviews that use profanity. I don’t
understand. Can’t you get your point across without using profanity? After all,
authors take their work seriously so we should take our reviews seriously.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I discovered that a lot of authors don’t read the
reviews because of the mean and nasty things said. While I ultimately write my
reviews for readers, I do want authors to read them because either I want them
to know that they are doing a fantastic job and they should keep it up or
because I have offered some profound advice (or at least profound to me) such
as more dialogue or the plot was too convoluted to easily follow.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I give a lot of
thought and time to writing reviews so that they are clear and concise. I pride
myself on writing professional, respectful, considerate reviews. In fact, if I
have to give only one or two stars to a book, I will give even more thought and
time to that review so that I can ensure it is never cruel or heartless. For an
example, I had to give a book only two stars. This is what I wrote:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background: white;">“My hat is off
to the author because at least her writing pulled me in enough to have some
emotions about this book. I certainly didn’t walk away feeling apathetic which
would be even worse than disliking a book. I appreciate her efforts in trying
to create a hero who could redeem himself, it was just too little too late for
me. I still want to read more by this author. Hopefully the next in the series
will feature more sympathetic characters.”</span><o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background: white;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
See, I was completely honest but still outlined what didn’t
work while being respectful. It can be done folks. Another thing that many
reviewers do is give spoilers in their reviews. Come on, seriously? That’s just
crap. I have a simple rule in my reviews. If a plot point is not mentioned in
the synopsis of the book then it won’t go in my review. The fact that there is
a happy ending is not a spoiler because I think we expect that in a romance
novel. But the fact that the hero is blind may be a spoiler. Just avoid
spoilers in your reviews. It’s that simple.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes I want to smack other reviewers because of their
mean and heartless comments. It frustrates me that they are giving reviewers
like me a bad name. But there is a way to combat them and so this is where I
challenge you to help out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
First of all, read reviews. It’s important so that you know
which ones are good and which ones are bad. If you are on Goodreads, then start
following the reviewers who write quality reviews. If you’re on Amazon, mark a
review as helpful so that it ups our reviewer ranking. Mark the bad reviews as
unhelpful. This will hopefully encourage the good reviewers to keep writing and
tell the bad reviewers we don’t like what they are doing.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you are an author, help out the good reviewers by promoting
our reviews/blogs on your websites when we review your books. Get the word out
about which blogs offer high quality reviews. And most importantly, don’t lump
us in with those crappy reviewers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you can identify the bad reviewers from the professional
ones, then you know which reviews to avoid and which ones to read. And authors
please don’t be afraid to read reviews – even those that don’t give you four or
five stars. You never know when we might give you some great advice or motivate
you when you’re feeling down. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So that’s my sermon. Thank you for allowing me to get this
off my chest. I feel much better. Now I will get down off my soapbox now and
return to reading and reviewing. Have a
great day!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Robin Matloff Seitz</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-41243815442552099592014-06-25T17:51:00.001-05:002014-06-25T17:51:36.302-05:00A Dedicated Readers Angst<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some of you know me and will agree with me but others will
just assume I am a bitter reader. I am okay with that but for those who know me
you will understand where I am coming from on this blog because I have
expressed my concern to a few of you. I have wanted to write about it for a
long time but I have felt too close to the subject to not just write a
rant. I have become a very cynical
reader and this has caused me to get into a reading funk. I have read maybe six
or seven books since August. This is something new for me, I have had reading
funks before never one that has lasted this long. For a while I was scared that
I would never be able to read again with the exception of a few authors. I have
stepped back from some authors and had to unfriend them on Facebook and twitter.
Most authors don’t care and very few read my blogs so no harm, no foul but I am
sure other readers feel the same way as I do. I know I usually feel so much
better when I write down what is bothering me so I hope they will feel the same
release as I do just by reading this blog. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now onto the blog, I have written what I consider the
responsibility of a reader and an author before but if you have not read it I
will state a few of them again. As a reader I have the responsibility to buy
the book and not download it from a pirate site. Really, there is only one
other thing as reader I have to do and that is to respect the author’s work and
not to tell them how to write, what to write and when to write it. That is it.
That is my job as a reader. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
An author’s job it is to put out the best book they can at
that moment. I know a lot of authors feel pressure to put out books quickly for
their readers but you would not rush Monet and so why should you push any other
artist to hurry? Yes, I said that authors
are artist and to me they are. Who else do you know that can talk to people in
their head and put their stories down on paper without being medicated? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now here is what is bothering me today and yesterday and for
several months. I have seen a multitude of authors asking for reviews. It is
not my job to promote your book. If I feel strongly about a book then I will
review it but I shouldn’t feel guilty about not writing one. And I do start to feel guilty if I read that
an author is begging for reviews and I don’t write one. I start to feel as if I
am letting them down. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here is the thing, I am anti reviews. I have heard of some
of the things that some authors have done and it sickens me to the core. I
don’t trust reviews because of the things I have seen with my own eyes and
heard from other about some of the tricks and things that authors have stooped
to doing. Things like having husbands, beta’s, friends and even themselves
writing 5 star reviews. Some have even made up multiple email addresses to use
so they can write more than one review.
Things like this has made it hard for me to read some authors and I have
decided to just stop buying the authors. Now there are some authors who give
away copies of books specifically for reviews and if you get one of those then
yes, you should write a review. But for all that is holy please don’t just ass
kiss the author, be honest!!! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now onto yet another thing that has helped foster this
reading funk, the dedications and acknowledgements in the books. If someone has truly helped you writing the
book or supported you by all means put them in the book but lately I have seen
several authors put review sites and some reviewers by name in the book. Am I
the only one who sees this as a conflict of interest? If you put their name in the book that will
take away their impartiality when reviewing the book. Most of you know I have beta read for a few
authors and I never write reviews for their books, as much as I may love them.
Now if someone asks me my opinion about a book I will tell them that I did beta
the book and then give them my honest opinion. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I won‘t even get started on Street Teams. I know I am
stepping on some author toes and I am sorry but these are things that have been
sticking in my craw for months and sometimes even years. Feel free to disagree with me and if you
would like to respond feel free. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sarcastically Sinful, <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Schmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-38212279535420770642014-06-18T19:08:00.003-05:002014-06-18T19:08:13.859-05:00MY Obsession <div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am going
to admit to something that some people have long suspected but I have hidden
for a long while. I am a bag whore. I love them and the bigger the better. I have now moved from handbags to luggage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> As a teen I never carried a purse because I
was not a girly girl. I had no desire to carry everything I owned with me. My Momma and my Grandmother always had huge
bags but they never carried money in them.
The money was put in their bras where it was safe. I always wondered what they carried in their
purse but as a kid we were not allowed to get in it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It wasn’t
until I hit my mid-twenties that I discovered my passion for bags. It started innocent enough. I was out
shopping with my sister and she was looking for a new handbag. She was asking me what I thought of several
of them and we debated the pros and cons of what seemed like an endless
supply. She talked to me about all the
stuff she carried and I was surprised. I
had no idea that you could fit all that stuff in one bag. I tried to figure out why she would carry
half of medicine cabinet and what seemed like everything except the kitchen
sink in there. But then I found a cute
little bag and couldn’t resist it and out I walked with my first purse. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I soon found
that it was very convenient to have someplace to put my gum and my small
wallet. Yes, I broke my family rule of carrying my money in my bra because it
was embarrassing to have to search under my big boobs to get a buck. I then came to realized that this small cute
bag was too small.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I then had
to shop for a slightly bigger bag. I searched high and low for the perfect bag
and it seemed like it took forever but I found a medium sized bag. It fit just
what I needed. You know the essentials. At this time I was only carrying my
wallet, lip gloss, a book (this was an actual book), music (Walkman) and gum
and mints. So a medium bag worked just fine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My
progression started out slowly. I was
doing family research which meant that I had to go to several places and needed
multiply notebooks, pens, post-it notes and notes that my Momma had written out
for me not to mention the directions to every cemetery, county court house and
church she knew. The never ending search
began. I went to a multitude of stores not only in town but every time I went
somewhere, if there was a store that I could find a bag in, I was there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I think I
finally found one really close to home in Target of all places. It was what
they called a Doctor’s bag. Yes, the kind from tv and movies but bigger. Everyone who saw me did a double take looking
at my bag, then at me and back at the huge bag that I carried. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With the
extra room I found that I began to carry even more things. Soon I was collecting more and more bags. I
had bags from every store and in a variety of sizes. My favorites where big
bags, and I mean really big bags. One of
the girls I work said she carried more
and the most bizarre stuff in her bag and that she would win a contest so we
sat a table and emptied our bags. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We gathered
quite the audience. We had the
essentials like books, music, candy, gum, notebooks, lots of pens and pencils,
makeup, medicine, sewing kits, first aid stuff, jewelry but I won with
flipflops. Yes, I had flipflops in my
bag. You can ask Mia if I am in a car I
like to be barefoot. I know it is
strange but there you have it proof that I am a freak. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">To this day,
I get handbags or really just huge bags for gifts. I love it. People do love to make fun of my bags but
they know that if they need something there is a decent chance I have it in my
bag. Then they no longer get to make fun of the fact that I carry something
that you could put a small child in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Now onto my
new passion, luggage! Again it stared out small. I needed to get a piece of
luggage because I was taking a trip to Philly. Now before I had always driven
to my destinations but this time I was flying so I wanted one bag and not the
variety of bags that I normally carried on a trip. I unfortunately couldn’t find a bag in time.
My sister had several pieces so I just snagged one of her since it was going to
be a weekend trip. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I decided
that I was going to be traveling a lot more to conventions so I started the
never ending hunt for luggage. I wanted something well-made and I did my
research online and asked people I know and found that there was no definitive
winner. I kept looking for a couple of years with no
luck. Either was not well made or way
too expensive for what I was going to get. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then it
happened I was flipping through channels and found Samantha Brown on HSN. Now,
I have never watched HSN before but I had watched Samantha’s show on the travel
channel so I stopped. I now know why people are addicted to HSN. It is like crack. I just stopped because of
Sam but before I knew it was unable to change the channel and ended up watching
a couple of hours of them talking about Sam’s new luggage collection. I was
hesitant to buy something that I personally didn’t see or touch. Or that someone I know didn’t already
have. I waited and waited and debated
and argued with myself on it. I am not going to lie it was expensive. I just wasn’t sure about it. Finally this year, I decided that I was going
to take the plunge and buy a bag that had free shipping and was just what I was
looking for. I did read all the reviews
on it and ordered that bag. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was like a
little kid at Christmas when the box arrived. I grabbed it out of the UPS man’s
hands and didn’t even notice that it was a man in a uniform. I know shocking. I shut the door and ripped into that box like
a police dog with a suspect in range. My
sister was staring at me like I was a freak but I whipped out that bag and
started checking out all the pockets and was already planning on all the stuff
that I could fit in there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I carried
that bag for well over a year and still love it. Now, comes that fact that I was going to
Mia’s and Savannah. I was saving my
money for the trip but I had kept tabs on Samantha’s luggage on HSN. I had my favorites already marked for when I
had the money. When I got home from
Mia’s I had a plan already in mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I started
out small with one 21 inch bag. I packed that baby with all the clothes that I
would need for a weekend trip and still had room left over. Then HSN sucked me in with special deals on a
makeup bag and wallet so yep, I ordered them too. Now because they we on
special they had limited quantities so I took whatever color appealed to me the
most that they still had left in stock. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then I found
yet another bag that I loved and it was a duffle that was hard on one side and
was soft on the other so I could cram even more things in it. Yet another color
ordered. Then there was another computer bag that I could fit my 17 inch laptop
in and yet another color. I took this luggage to NOLA with me and people loved
it. I loved that I could pack all I
wanted and still have room for more stuff if I needed it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Now, I am
feeling the need to buy one bigger piece or maybe two. I think I want a 25 inch or maybe a 28
inch. I can’t decide but after traveling
with two bags and my computer bag I think I need the bigger piece since it
would be easier to check one bag instead of two and less to keep track of. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">See now you
know I have a bag and luggage problem and I am not sure if there is a 12 step
program for either of them. Someone please help me before my apartment is taken
over!!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sinfully
Sarcastic, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-3834465733925669662014-06-11T20:17:00.000-05:002014-06-11T20:17:07.481-05:00Translator Required<div class="MsoNormal">
Kia Ora, ( Hello) Perverts.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Hey Cherie here. </span>I live in New Zealand in a City called
Palmerston North. It is the main City in
the Manawatu area, 80,000 people live here apparently. New Zealand is the first place to see the sun
on a new day. I love it. And that means we are at the bottom of the
Earth. So this is why I speak a different language to you even though it is
still English.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">So now you may understand while in chats or
in threads that often I would either ask for a translation please or I was
sitting with my laptop smiling and nodding until the shoe dropped and I finally
figured out what the heck you were all gabbing on about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">I had no idea what swag was for an author,
in Australia which is the west Island of New Zealand ( you know you love me Fi)
your swag is your bedroll when you are out camping, so when I was entering
competitions for swag I was floored. I
did not have a clue. If you find the words
for Waltzing Matilda I think it has a swag man in there too. </span><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><span lang="EN-AU"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">When I was reading Mia and or Lori’s books
they had playlists attached and they nearly always had country Music on
them. I went and I listened and I loved
most of them. In NZ we don’t get alot of
Country Music. Most of the songs that
are played on our Radio stations are pop music with a little mix of Rock. We may get a sample taste tease at the best
like Taylor Swift or the really popular Lady Antebellum song. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"> From
this group though I have purchased Maroon 5’s album mainly because of the
inspiration it gave Mia and because listening to more of it not only the
released singles I really loved it. I
have been exposed to music and artists that I have never heard of, I am one of
those people who will listen to a song and love it and never have the foggiest
idea who actually sang the song. So I
listened to Adelitas Way from Tina putting up the link for the song that she
thought fit the Perverts “Dirty Little Thing”, then I asked Luna if she knew
any folk kind of mellow songs and she has hooked me up with Loreena McKennitt
and I chill out with her when my brain feels like I am about to explode. I love it.
I have been searching you tube so much more and finding so many artists
that I have never heard of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Then I have learned about great TV shows
Like Arrow and I was very linched when I said that I had never watched
Supernatural so now I am watching my sisters DVD collection. In NZ we don’t have Netflix or the like, we
have 12 free to air channels and If we are lucky we get good shows. Just this past week Arrow aired for the first
time on our TV, before that I have been watching it on line through a free tv
site. I still cannot get into Vampire
Diaries though there is some great specimens of creation to be admired I admit
a lack of interest in it. (please don’t hate me Heather Long and Chris No one
Walker) It sucks being in the future but
realising you are so far behind in regards to so much. Do you know it costs me 17 dollars to go to
see a 3D movie over here and that even though the Hobbit is a Kiwi film we only
got it on DVD last week. So okay, now
you know that the future is not all its’ cracked up to being lol. Sorry rambling there for a minute now back to
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"> Another thing that I noticed was the way you
North Americans use insults to show affection to each other. For example there is Chris and Tina, Tina is
Chris’s Heifer and Chris is Tina’s Hooker hard to understand when you rock up
to a chat. I still remember that chat
that Tina logged off and came back on as Heifer it was Chris’s Birthday and
Chris cheered that Tina truly loved her so of course Tina said that she was
drunk so it didn’t mean anything. I
still find it really hard to curse in type so I use Duck a lot like I am so
Ducking excited to be trying to write this blog, I can see Luna doing a face
palm at this, she is trying so hard to get me to let loose in our facebook Fun
Box. It totally made my day one day when
I was commenting on something and Tina was like I am sorry but do I know you? Then I felt like I truly fit in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">So now that I have “met” all of you I find
that I need a map of North America to pin point where you all live and so that
I can understand the abbreviations of the states that you all live in. I get frustrated then have to laugh at how confused
I get at your geography, just ask Tracey Reid I was mocking the Kansas Border
that it had become similar to a twilight zone line because once Tina and Mia
crossed it they were giving hugs, Tracey had a little giggle and said ah Cherie
we are in Missouri, Kansas City but it was not in Kansas!! Talk about confusing
the Blonde kiwi chick so I amended my line of influence to the Kansas City
limits so there crazy US geography I still got my point across. This was of course when you all had fun at RT
and I was at home enjoying it through your photos with my IRPP partner Luna Wildwood. We stalk well together. (Different Time Zones
to catch all info.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">There are so many other things that I am
trying to come to grips with but that will alas have to wait to blog for
another day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Is there an understanding barrier for you
guys too when talking to people who live outside of North America?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Kia Kaha (Be Strong) and Arohanui (With
Deep Affection).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">From your perv from Middle Earth. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">xoxoxo<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Cheri Clark </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-63943928302300135142014-06-05T13:16:00.002-05:002014-06-05T13:16:10.326-05:00My Nightmare <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can’t
believe I am writing this blog. I really don’t want to but I want someone else’s
opinions. I feel like such a girl right
now, I am freaking out. I guess I should
let you know what it is about, underwear.
Yep, the worst thing in the world to me but for other women it is the
most decadent thing they can buy. <i>Freaks <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Here is the
thing, I have always hated buying underwear or as some like to call them
panties. Growing up there wasn’t a lot
of choice. Momma went to the store and bought the cheapest undies for us kids
because we just grew out of them so fast and at that point I didn’t really care
about what I wore, that would come later.
Underwear was just something that you put on first and on hot days you
could sit in your room and play in. I guess I should tell you that this was
when I was 5 or 6, not when I was a teen. When I became a teen was when my undie issues
began. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When I
started 6<sup>th</sup> grade I was still really shy and I developed a lot
faster than other girls. I had the start of my boobs, no one else did so
already I was different from the other girls because I was wearing a training
bra. Of course, this is also when the
dreaded changing for P.E. started as well.
I had never really thought about my undies till all the other girls had
cute day of the week panties and flowers and stuff on theirs and when I looked
down I had plain white granny panties. I
felt so out of place because of the bra thing and add in the granny panties and
I was mortified. No one ever said
anything but I still felt like I was being judged. I asked my Momma for some
cute undies and she said they were too expensive and she was right. But at that point I just didn’t care about
that I just wanted to fit in. I finally
got over the undies thing till I hit puberty head on like a Mack truck. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The summer
between 8<sup>th</sup> grade and my freshmen year I put on weight and my curves
kicked into high gear. I was a 14/16
when I started high school. I was the
only girl who was not thin. I was by far
the biggest girl in school. Now let me tell you that I went to a smallish
school. Most of the kids there were
upper middle class so they all had bikes and did summer activities but I had a
job starting when I was 15 which didn’t allow a lot of time to do sports or
anything. The fact that I probably would have rather had my limbs ripped off is
beside the point. My favorite thing when
I had spare time was doing research on my favorite topics and reading. How does this relate to my issues with
underwear, you ask? I didn’t get enough exercise
and I couldn’t seem to lose weight so I was reduced to staying in the granny
panties or going commando. Now we are
talking mid 80’s so not a lot of cute things for girls who were in double digit
size pants. Once again I felt out of
place because once you reach a 14 you only had granny panties to choose from
and if you were lucky they had different colors. Other girls had really cute undies and they
pranced around while I was hiding in a corner wearing my D-cup bra and granny
panties. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The dreaded
granny panties became a staple of my wardrobe and if I was lucky I was able to
find some high cut ones that looked less like my Momma’s undies. I figured I was never going to find cute
undies and I was past caring for the most part. My boyfriends didn’t really care what I was
wearing as long as I was taking them off soon. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As I got
older and clothing designers finally decided that bigger size women wanted to
look sexy too and they started to make cute undies. I found all kinds that I
liked till I put them on. I swear they
either climb up my crack or they were way above my waist. I tried all kinds of
underwear when I found Jockey. I found that
I had no problems with them other than the sticker shock. I didn’t really care that much as long as
they fit. I thought my undie issues
where finally dead. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Alas, that
was so not true. I hit my late 30’s when
I put on weight again. I went from a 16 to much larger size in nothing
flat. I now have a gigantic booty that
would scare Beyonce. I had to go back to
the granny panties of my youth. I
decided that I was going to go commando for a while because I was tired of
looking old when I put on my underwear.
I found it was a little strange at first but I got used to it. Then I
decided that I was going to give undies another shot. I lucked out and found so
really cute boyshorts when they first started making them. Fruit of the Loom
was my hero. I bought every package I could find because finally I had the
perfect undies. They didn’t become thongs when I moved and they were cute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then I
realized the horror of undie shopping once again. I had noticed that they had changed the way
they were making boyshorts but I needed some new undies. I have looked for
months with no luck. Most stores do not carry larger underwear because I guess women
over a size 18 don’t need underwear. As
much as it pains me I went to Lane Bryant and bought a few pair and same
problem just with a more expensive price tag.
I have tried a variety of cuts and fabrics but they all just don’t feel
right. The one that really bothered me was some boyshorts that were the right
size but when I put them on the front was perfect but the back only came half
way up my butt. I swear my butt will be
the death of me yet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am going
to give the new Boxer Brief’s a shot. If I don’t find some soon I will be back
to going commando because I refuse to revert to Granny Panties again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Does anyone
out there have any suggestions for me to try and am I the only one who hates
shopping for undies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sarcastically
Sinful,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-20526327439545755132014-05-27T18:34:00.000-05:002014-05-27T20:25:17.660-05:00The Romantic Times Wrap Up<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am home
from The Romantic Times Convention so now it is time for me to tell you about
it. Where to start …… Well I will be writing a blog about my travel with Mia
later so I guess I should just talk about the convention itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I guess I
should start at the first RT that I went to which was Chicago in 2012. I did an
overnight trip with some friends. We
didn’t plan on staying long so we basically just ran in and started chatting. We met up with some authors that we already
knew and that was awesome. We had a
fantastic time just sitting around and visiting with all our friends that
happened to be there. A few of us
decided that we would do it again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The second
trip to RT was fun as well. There were
four of us in our room and we had a lot of fun. We did run around meeting all
of our friend and authors. Mia and I
bought that weekend pass and if I remember it correctly we did very little of
the actually convention and more of the socializing. I have found that really all the conventions
are is for readers to get together and socialize. I have not learned a thing at
any convention other that they are expensive as hell. Mia and I drove to KC and just in travel it
was probably close to $600. Mia had to fly in but I was able to drive and it
would have been more for her if she would have flown into KC instead of just to
St Louis. The hotel was okay but not
worth the money they charged. That is a reoccurring theme that I will get to
later. So basically, we probably spent 5
or 6 hundred dollars each. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">RT number 3
was NOLA !!! Let’s start with the
planning. I found out that RT would be in New Orleans at the 2013 convention in
Kansas City. I planned on going as soon as I heard where it was going to be but
life happens. Mia and I were not sure we would be able to go to RT but we
managed to make it. This time I was the one who flew in to Nashville. Mia drove
over from the backwoods and picked me up and off we went. My flight cost me
$230 and then there was the gas for Mia. Once again, we only planned on doing
the signing. We get there and find out that there was a $38 parking fee for
each day so yep, you do the math. Already,
this trip was so expensive I wanted to cry. I knew what the room was going to cost but I
had no idea that the parking was going to be so ridiculous. Now, onto the room, I took a video of the room
and I am just saying I was so not impressed with it. I was still excited by the
thought of hanging in NOLA. Once again,
Mia and I went to socialize with friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We arrived
on Wednesday afternoon and pulled into the parking garage. The guys there were
helpful and really nice. Then came the time when they said that the cost was
$38 a night for parking. A bellhop took
our luggage to the holding area till I got us checked in. Checking into the
hotel was a pain in the ass but we got it done. We retrieved our luggage and headed up to our
room. OMG the elevators were a pain in
the ass as well. I have never seen elevators like these and they said they were
the most efficient, not something I am sure I believe. They had a keypad where
you put your floor number then it would tell you which elevator to take. Then
the waiting began, I am not sure how long I waited but it seemed like forever. We get to our floor and headed off to our
room. We walked it and I realized it was
not what I had reserved but I really didn’t want to deal with the front desk
again. I wanted a double double but the guy gave us a king and Mia and I have
slept together before so …. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvVxS38jlpqPkTReirBtC4YgI3pSYLjdQlrKEZxqhCcTWP2LYTisp4FT_MAiCRLjhsoYLmpBiHASKXxH9-TtKulxGCS4M6L9b8qRsYOkNC4VNSfLJlp9cngRcq1DnL205cV6CBoDablc/s1600/RT+2014.mp4" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvVxS38jlpqPkTReirBtC4YgI3pSYLjdQlrKEZxqhCcTWP2LYTisp4FT_MAiCRLjhsoYLmpBiHASKXxH9-TtKulxGCS4M6L9b8qRsYOkNC4VNSfLJlp9cngRcq1DnL205cV6CBoDablc/s1600/RT+2014.mp4" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I sat down
and tried to figure out the finances with the added parking fee and how much it
was going to cost each of us. All that
did was depress me but I decided that if I was going to pay that much I was
going to have some fun. We rested up a
bit then headed down to the lobby to see who we could find and to text a few
people to let them know we had arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The first
person we see was Jenn LeBlanc and of course I just had to yell “ OMG IT’S JENN
LEBLANC “ At that point she probably
wanted to run and Mia was hiding hoping no one would notice she was with
me. Jenn introduced us to Tristan, one
of her models and of course Kati, her awesome assistant was with her. We chatted a few minutes then they had to go
do some events or something but we planned on meeting up later. Mia and I headed back up to the room to unpack
and rest and before the night began. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A little
while later, we headed back down and were looking around the bar for a table
when we saw Reggie and Kasi Alexander.
Hugs all around and a little chatting then we were off to find a table
in the loudest bar known to man. I am
not even kidding about the sound of the bar. It was kind of small with the
table close together. Add in a hundred
people and it was deafening. I could
barely hear Mia and she was sitting right next to me. We ordered a couple of drinks and waited for
Jenn and her entourage to show up. </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlxtq2-m12hu6rfu1MAqN4OKzoOUUIEfpb4aU_cJMFiMgT4tdScWpO3injz_plD2d8elnFK52GNKEh_U_AxR8EgkjCxaZRH5Q360AMeBTJtvt_8dnrF1kk-kmfuQOekYMKn_XveVrPO-I/s1600/1511061_10202033735866183_735062538878364364_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlxtq2-m12hu6rfu1MAqN4OKzoOUUIEfpb4aU_cJMFiMgT4tdScWpO3injz_plD2d8elnFK52GNKEh_U_AxR8EgkjCxaZRH5Q360AMeBTJtvt_8dnrF1kk-kmfuQOekYMKn_XveVrPO-I/s1600/1511061_10202033735866183_735062538878364364_n.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then we see them and Jenn is carrying a box.
I am a little confused but I was open for whatever. She has brought the greatest game ever to
play, Cards Against Humanity. Tristan
baled on us and was resting in the room but my guess is he didn’t want to spend
anytime with the crazy (me). Jenn
explained the game and we were off. If
you ever get the chance to play do it.
Lots of people stopped by the table and we had a great time just
chatting. I noticed a few authors that I knew on site but only yelled at Sophie
Oak/ Lexi Blake and her fantastic assistant and all around wonderful woman,
Chloe Vale. They were on their way to someplace so we only got that chance to say
hi. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thursday,
Mia and I set out to find a restaurant that she had eaten at before,
Mother’s. We found Emeril’s place and I
am just saying it looked beautiful from the outside but there was no way would
be able to afford to eat there this trip. I did notice how dirty the city was.
I had heard it was kind of dirty and I have been to some nasty places but this
was even more disgusting. I was so
disappointed in a city that I had always wanted to visit. We got lost but
eventually we found Mother’s. There was
a line outside the doors but there was a gentleman behind us who was a regular
and he couldn’t say enough about it. We
looked at a menu and decided we would get a salad for dinner as well. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOhkXJ_f0vLwt2ay8zT6tkP69W2PoCh0Stca9Ti5GC2Jk7sgi50Y3PssJgqUSAvs7C9CmODUEexQ9jZvMiW3XpF7PaGayvGPB6H7_S-Pu2K4XxJfVN4CArw4ptnkMomA5EiBbP1KtQwwk/s1600/10342916_10202039709575522_354511550298769214_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOhkXJ_f0vLwt2ay8zT6tkP69W2PoCh0Stca9Ti5GC2Jk7sgi50Y3PssJgqUSAvs7C9CmODUEexQ9jZvMiW3XpF7PaGayvGPB6H7_S-Pu2K4XxJfVN4CArw4ptnkMomA5EiBbP1KtQwwk/s1600/10342916_10202039709575522_354511550298769214_n.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUVBrCpu_67vxmKOYWOfztT2Z46bBib-Azv3Yf6CklhpJG7UAB97ucF4pRfCvJABFsxVpdrwp1OUI1HHv6pR5n5wGRwkgaWR6gXKIhfMP_iE05EHkJO6gHBhmQQS8M_Nfk3C8-Ivd0uqE/s1600/1509033_10202039709215513_46712740190117443_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUVBrCpu_67vxmKOYWOfztT2Z46bBib-Azv3Yf6CklhpJG7UAB97ucF4pRfCvJABFsxVpdrwp1OUI1HHv6pR5n5wGRwkgaWR6gXKIhfMP_iE05EHkJO6gHBhmQQS8M_Nfk3C8-Ivd0uqE/s1600/1509033_10202039709215513_46712740190117443_n.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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</div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The food was
really good and filling. We had a fridge
in the room so we tossed the salads in there and knew we would be eating yummy
later. I think we napped and then headed
off to meet up with our partners in crime for some more good times. We met some new people, Lindsey and Nancy and
had a great time chatting and playing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Friday was a
repeat of Thursday, walking around looking around the city and then heading
back to the hotel area to eat. We did find a great place right across the
street to eat, Jimmy J’s. One of the things
I noticed was that all the food places where really small and could only fit a
few people at a time. This became our
primary food place. We had brunch and dinner there the rest of the trip. The food was great and Mia didn’t have to
cheat too much on her diet. The cost was reasonable and the staff was
amazing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAqJuaMMm86cLiDlV2nYFPZIym-dxpHQIuxGssNHcP4m7HlUvcjkzT2UMjwNnfyWk4XN-Yw7egcZGqcQjJ1tH1xftegY15c_U5b7b056SbH16b1T50IwH9RWNGYjxNRnNZU_pnObAxQ4/s1600/10294458_10202045570882051_8230037260067617954_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAqJuaMMm86cLiDlV2nYFPZIym-dxpHQIuxGssNHcP4m7HlUvcjkzT2UMjwNnfyWk4XN-Yw7egcZGqcQjJ1tH1xftegY15c_U5b7b056SbH16b1T50IwH9RWNGYjxNRnNZU_pnObAxQ4/s1600/10294458_10202045570882051_8230037260067617954_n.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgywyPuhJH9mmYIr1yhNTQHw1CvpljPX0UcU3CVMSiau5kcgmExLPzQkkSaEpGB9aaCJuPrGiKkRKdwOhNE17yW-4RumfuT9k15HmpAAFDpm_679_7JvAwjhbuY9tRM5WJ7-j0kPkQlIw/s1600/10349076_10202047230243534_994045075059685025_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgywyPuhJH9mmYIr1yhNTQHw1CvpljPX0UcU3CVMSiau5kcgmExLPzQkkSaEpGB9aaCJuPrGiKkRKdwOhNE17yW-4RumfuT9k15HmpAAFDpm_679_7JvAwjhbuY9tRM5WJ7-j0kPkQlIw/s1600/10349076_10202047230243534_994045075059685025_n.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggx2Zlpjs_fFaGn6cZoHJa4UsoqWQRt8bRWoIIx23CDztP1p_30m3gqVV-fHWmbTwBbQyF41N5wh_GGFkVyigkUTPT3-U6Evylahu_FKQEltXlqy7XfDIYQEEoQci4yde_PYJKph-7b90/s1600/10365818_522907411148230_3095030935928875262_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggx2Zlpjs_fFaGn6cZoHJa4UsoqWQRt8bRWoIIx23CDztP1p_30m3gqVV-fHWmbTwBbQyF41N5wh_GGFkVyigkUTPT3-U6Evylahu_FKQEltXlqy7XfDIYQEEoQci4yde_PYJKph-7b90/s1600/10365818_522907411148230_3095030935928875262_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Saturday we
got tickets for the signing but Mia needed to work so I went down to the
signing but everyone kept asking where she was so I went back up and made her
come down to socialize. We spent time
talking to Jenn, Tristan, Sophie and Chloe.
I told Sophie that Tristan was with Jenn so she had to go and say hi and
get her picture taken with him. We had
hoped to meet up with Sophie and Chloe later but unfortunately that wasn’t able
to happen. Cheri Clark was able to find
me and we chatted for a few minutes then Michelle Rushing found us and it was
great talking to both of those ladies.
Mia and I were going between Jenn and Sophie talking to them when they
weren’t busy. We finally saw Tracey Reid
whom I had texted and called but she ignored me. I was beginning to feel
unloved (just kidding…. Maybe). Tracey
told us that Cheri was up in there room packing up some stuff so Mia and I went
up there and spent some talking to her before going to grab some dinner. We did get to spend a few more minutes
talking to Reggie and Kasi finally. They were some busy people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We got up
Sunday morning and packed everything up and headed out but first we had to say
goodbye for another year to Jenn. I have
a feeling we woke her up. Kati was in the shower and Tristan wasn’t up yet so
no goodbyes for them. Of course there
was a problem with the hotel again; they put our parking on Jenn’s room. We got it figured out and we were headed
home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In closing I
am not sure I will go to another RT. I can’t justify the cost of spending close
to $1000 on just visiting friends. This
hotel was expensive and not worth the money.
The conference is expensive and I have never learned anything. Just meeting the authors is not worth the
cost. I think next year I may try a
different conference but I think most are going to be about the same. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sinfully
Sarcastic, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-8594158456184802222014-05-11T18:14:00.000-05:002014-05-11T18:14:06.349-05:00The Countdown to the Romantic Times Convention 2014<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am sitting
here just 2 days away from flying to Nashville. I will be meeting Mia Ashlinn
and we are driving down to New Orleans together for the Romantic Times
convention. I know it is a scary thought being trapped in a car with me but Mia
is being very brave. As a few of you
know last year Mia and I traveled from Kansas City, where the convention was
held thru Kansas then back to St. Louis. We both survived so we thought we
would do it again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Now there
are some huge differences in Mia and I. I am not just talking about the fact
that she has imaginary people talking to her but the fact that I am already
packed and she is still shopping for shoes. I started my packing about a month
ago. I repacked a week ago and I have been adding a few last minute things each
day. Most people find it very strange that I try and get ready at least a
couple of weeks before I actually head out on my trip. I have made a list and I love to cross things
off of it. I think one of the reasons I love to pack early is because I am less
likely to forget something. I write more things down as I think of them and
then pack them asap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One of the
things I have noticed by packing early is that it helps control my excitement.
If I am focused on the things I need to do I am less likely to make everyone
crazy. Well, everyone except Mia who I
love to taunt. I have been doing a
countdown in our Righteous Peverts Facebook group just to help with my
anxiety. I know me freaking out is
shocking but it is really a strange experience going to a writers convention. I am actually a nervous nelly when it comes
to meeting authors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Authors are
normally really nice and personable but there is still something about meeting
people whom have taken you on a rollercoaster ride of love, conflict and
finally more love. They have also stimulated more than your mind sometimes and
that makes it hard to look at them. Most
people have no problem talking to authors but me I am a bumbling idiot a lot of
the time and get me within shouting distance of some and I almost fall
down. Everyone thinks I am not afraid of
anything but making a total fool out of myself in front of an authors is my
greatest fear. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Some authors
are easy peasy especially if you have met them before or have a Facebook relationship
with them. For instance, I have no problem talking to Kris Cook because I have
known him for years. I have known Sophie
Oak for years too but sometimes I freak out because “IT’S SOPHIE OAK “. I know they are regular people but I still kind
of spaz when I talk to her. I know that if I ever met Sandra Hill or Hannah Howell I will be feeling the exact same way or maybe even worse. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Gods, just writing this blog is making my heart beat faster so I need to take a
relaxing bath. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">So my
question to you is are you cool as a cucumber or are you like me and kind of a
freak when you meet authors?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sinfully
Sarcastic, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-56615679730393474162014-05-06T13:21:00.002-05:002014-05-06T13:21:26.443-05:00Convention Season by Amy Hawthorn <br /><div class="MsoNormal">
It’s
here! Every year I’m disappointed because I can’t go to them all. Last year, I
made it to two. This year I only have one on my schedule. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s no
secret that I’m not a social butterfly. In a room buzzing with people I can sit
in the corner with a book or my computer and I’d be just as happy reading, than
I would be meeting new people. It’s not that I’m not a friendly person, but
that I spend a ton of time in my own head and I like it there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But,
even at busy conventions there’s plenty for even the shyest of people to do.
Workshops, signings, games, parties. If you can think of it, it’s probably
there to be experienced.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And for
those of you who are people –people, you’re what makes the convention buzz with
life. I’ve been fortunate enough to meet a few that I stay in contact with. I
adore and maybe even envy them for their ability to strike up a conversation
with almost anyone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not
a veteran by any means. I’ve only been to RT twice, Lora Leigh’s RAW and Lori
Foster’s RAGT. There are countless others that I haven’t experienced, but they
all have one thing in common.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Readers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And at
the heart of it, readers are damn fine people. And in my opinion, it’s well
worth the hand-sweats and a few stumbled over words to peek out of my comfort
zone to meet fellow readers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are a few doozies out there for certain, but for every
one not-so-nice person there are five fellow readers who are there for the same
reason I am.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whether
it’s to find new authors, learn more about the industry or craft, market their
own works or kick back and enjoy the party atmosphere, there’s plenty to
experience and someone there worth meeting.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have
you been to a romance convention? If so what did you go for, if not what would
you hope to find? Do you have a favorite?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Amy </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-61412087566893624712014-04-17T14:51:00.000-05:002014-04-17T14:51:29.624-05:00Books, Take Me Away<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know I am getting bad about coming up with titles, but I
guess you all will have to learn to live with my lack of imagination. This blog
is going to be pretty short, I think, because it is about things I don’t like
in books. That list is almost nonexistent. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am easy to please when it comes to books. I can suspend
reality for a while, if a story pulls me into another world. I have never been
a big fan of sci-fi, but I have found that if some authors write it, I can be
drawn right in and forget that it takes place in outer space. I can believe
that a woman wants to sleep with 12 guys all at the same time. That is not
saying that I don’t hurt in many places for her, but I can see it, if done
right. But there are things that I will just not read. Things that just push me
right to the edge, and I don’t care who wrote it. I. Will. Not. Read. It.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most of you probably know that I have a slight obsession
with Sherrilyn Kenyon. I am telling you that I had a hard time reading Acheron.
I waited so long for that book, and I wanted it so bad that I could just spit.
I got it and the size didn’t bother me at all. I was okay with a nice, long
book. I started reading it, and there were things in that first half that
almost made me want to stop. But I knew that if I could just get through it, I
would love it. That first half was so hard to read, but it was necessary for
you to really understand Acheron. For those of you have not read it, I will not
give away spoilers. Yes, that means you Mia. I know you still have not caught
up to the rest of us with Sherri’s books. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is another author who shall remain nameless, but I
love her books. I just can’t read the last one because the heroine was raped in
the book. I know that it is not graphic but, to me, I just can’t read it. If it
has happened in the past, that is one thing, but I have known people who have
been raped, and I know that it took them years to get to the point where they
were ready to be in a relationship. Some of them were already in relationships,
and it still took them a long time to be ready to deal with their partners.
This is not a subject that I want to read about—at all. I know some of you are
going to say that everyone deserves happiness and, yes, I believe that as well.
But there is no way that someone who has been through something that traumatic
will be ready for their happily ever after in the space of one book, unless
that book skips ahead and they add a lot of therapy to the book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another thing that I can’t handle is when the relationship
starts and one of the people is underage. I don’t have a problem, if they are
both around the same age. You know, like when one of them is 16 and the other
is 21 as long as there is no sex when one is underage. The thing that bothers
me is if one of them is 16 and the other is 30. That brings out the <i>Ewwww </i>factor for me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Really, the only other thing that makes me want to run
screaming from a book is if one of the people has all the control. Some will
say that a Dom has control of his slave, but I know that is not true so that
does not bother me at all. The ones I am talking about is if the man controls
the woman/man to a point where they do not have a mind of their own or feel
that they can’t be themselves for fear of retribution in either physical or
mental abuse. I hate if a character is abused by someone who is supposed to
love them. I will toss that book across the room in frustration. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, I am not saying that there are no other things that
make me gag, but these are the ones that will turn me off a book in a
heartbeat. I will tell you that I was scrolling through some free books and saw
one where the hero was a pimp. Really, a man who takes advantage of women is
not my idea of a hero in any world. I
mean what kind of woman would fall for a man who makes her have sex with other
men for money? I just don’t get it, but
that is a topic for another blog. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So my question is what turns you off in a book?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-26901287677079241502014-04-10T02:38:00.000-05:002014-04-10T02:38:09.810-05:00The Nightstand<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The nightstand beside my bed holds all my most important
things. Nope, they don’t all fit in the drawer. One is way too big for that.
Have you guessed what it is? It’s my To-Be-Read pile. Right now my tbr is out
of control. It has fifteen books. These are actual paperbacks. This is not
counting all the books I have on my computer which probably numbers well into
the hundreds. I try to be good but these damn authors keep writing amazing
books that I just have to read. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never used to have a TBR pile. I would only read the books
I really wanted. I would spend every night reading several books. The weekends
would be devoted to more reading. Then I started talking to all these new-to-me
authors and their books always sound so good that I have to run and buy them.
This is how my pile overtook my nightstand. Don’t get me wrong. I love my books
and free books are even better. Some people collect shoes or clothes. I collect
books. It is no wonder the eye doctor looks at me strange when I have to go and
get my prescription adjusted. He asks me if I read a lot and when I say yes, he
asks how much and I tell him nine to fifteen books a week. He always just looks
at me like I stepped off an alien spaceship. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are a couple more reasons my TBR pile is insane. One
is that I am one of those people who likes to go back and visit my old friends
in books. I probably read a couple of my favorites a week. To me, it is like calling
your bestie just to chat. Sometimes it is fun just to hear an old friend’s
story. I couldn’t tell you how many times I have read some of my Sherrilyn
Kenyon, Sophie Oak, Sandra Hill, Hannah Howell and Melissa Schroeder books.
Let’s just say I am glad that I have some of them on my computer so I don’t have to keep buy multiple copies of my
paperbacks.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Another big reason is, sometimes, I go into a reading funk.
Maybe I am the only one who has these kinds of days. I want to read but nothing
interests me. These days make me sad. If I find myself in a funk then I don’t
even try to read. I know I won’t give the book the attention it deserves. On
these days, I try to watch some television or listen to music or even do the
dreaded cleaning that my apartment always seems to need. Sometimes, it works. Sometimes,
it doesn’t. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that we have started this blog, I have taken to writing
something and hoping it will trigger the need to read. It doesn’t always work
either. I have never found a surefire way to fix my book funk, I am sorry to
say. I wish I could. So there are days that I don’t even pick up a book or even
look at my pile. This is a nightmare to a voracious reader. I don’t know what
starts the funk either. I sometimes think it is because I have read books that
are similar to other books and that my brain just thinks that they are all
starting to blend together. I just normally step back and hope that the funk
doesn’t last long.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A reading funk doesn’t stop me from buying more books and
that just makes my tbr pile even larger. I recently moved and my nephew freaked
out when he saw 35 cases of books that had to be carried downstairs and to the
new apartment. Now I have a walk in
closet full of books and my nightstand is dying under the weight of my to be
read pile. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So how big is your to be read pile? Is there a reason your
pile is out of control or do you keep it down to a certain number?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-48416284919219235302014-04-07T20:47:00.003-05:002014-04-07T20:47:50.998-05:00The Importance of Friendship. <div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
Thanks, Tina and Righteous
Perverts. As always, I’m thrilled to be here. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
I wanted to talk
about friendship today. For me those special relationships were the very
beginning of how I got published in the first place. Also, my friends are a big
part of why I remain a working writer to this day<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
Shayla Black and I
go way back. I met Shayla in 1998 between releases of her historical romances
One Wicked Night and His Lady Bride. At the time, we both worked for the same telecommunications
corporation. We both weren’t satisfied with our jobs, dreaming of a future we
could work full-time as writers. In those days I wrote screenplays and stage
plays, but the connection of storytelling bonded us. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
Almost
immediately, we started having lunch weekly to talk about characters, plot
ideas, twists, and more. The bond grew and grew. Our weekly lunches have become
less frequent due to our constant deadlines, but to this day, we talk on the
phone two and three times a week – and still make time for margaritas whenever
we can. Like last Friday with Lexi Blake, Isabella LaPearl, and Jenna Jacob.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
Speaking of Lexi
Blake, Shayla introduced me to Lexi and we became close friends. Have you ever
had an experience where you meet someone and instantly feel this cosmic
connection, like you’ve known each other your whole life? Well, that was how it
was for me when I met Lexi. She gets me, including my BS, which unfortunately
is quite substantial at times. She’s been a cheerleader, a mentor, a confidant,
and more. I’m a better writer and person because she’s in my life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
When I had my
accident in 2012, Lexi and Shayla came to the hospital with their husbands that
very day. I’ll never forget it.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
When I sunk into a
malaise and stopped writing, after some very difficult things occurred in my life,
I received hard, but loving kicks to the ass, from Lexi and Shayla. I owe them
so much and will never forget all they’ve done for me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
There are other
wonderful friends like Chloe Vale, Liz Berry, Tina (RP’s mistress of all things
right in the world – LOL!] and my mom – yes, my mom and I are very close. Lucky
that way. I don’t talk to them every day, in fact a couple of them I only talk
to every couple of months, but all four play important roles in my life and
without them I would be lost.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
I’m very lucky to
have more wonderful friends, who support and encourage me along the way. All
are dear to me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
Why talk about
friendship? Because that’s what a writer really is, someone who observes the
world with the beauty and brokenness and tries to bring it to the page. My
friends are beautiful and my brokenness is healed in the light they bring to my
life.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
A quick update on
my Secret Diary series. Misty’s Bondage Diary will be out this month. Yay!!!
I’ve been waiting some time for that and can’t wait to hear what you think.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
I’m including a
sneak peak at Misty’s Bondage Diary cover and an exclusive excerpt just for
you.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
Dream Big!!!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-size: 7pt; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->Kris
Cook –<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
It began with
Mia’s Spanking Diary, where a young woman’s education in Dominance and
submission becomes a lesson in love, and was followed by Lea’s Menage Diary.
When Lea agreed to submit to their training, she never dreamed they would
demand her love. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
And now, Book 3 of
the Secret Diary’s series releases in April!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MasterNovel" style="line-height: 16.0pt; text-align: justify; text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Misty’s Bondage Diary<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As they bound her body with their ropes, they also tied up
her heart<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Blurb: <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Misty spent her life clawing her way up the corporate
ladder. She sacrificed everything for her career, including any hope of a love
life. When her dream job is downsized, she is completely lost. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Trip and Dominick have always shared everything, including
women. Working as Doms at The Cell, an exclusive BDSM club, they enjoyed their
decadent lifestyle but feared it wouldn’t ever leave room for anything
permanent. Until the night that Misty walked into their club and asked them to
teach her about bondage.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As their lessons intensify, Misty discovers that Trip and
Dominick’s ropes aren’t just binding her body – they are also tying up her
heart.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Excerpt from Misty’s Bondage Diary:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
© Kris Cook – 2014<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<i>8:48 p.m.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I arrived at the party almost two
hours late.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I stood in front of the massive
home surrounded by every style of luxury car imaginable. They looked like
jeweled accents by its three-story walls. My five-year-old BMW 328i looked like
a little stepchild next to the shiny new Bentleys, Ferraris, Rolls-Royces,
Aston Martins, and Lamborghinis. There were several models I didn’t recognize
but clearly weren’t even in the realm of possibility on my salary—<i>correction, former salary.</i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<a href="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/t1.0-9/1185568_10200704297608873_1500890169_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://scontent-b-ord.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/t1.0-9/1185568_10200704297608873_1500890169_n.jpg" width="213" /></a>The reflection from the massive
lit marble fountain in the center of the circular drive only added to the fairy-tale
effect. Lex knew how to make an impact—that was for certain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
My little red Beemer had been a
present to myself. Everyone, including my staff, peers, sister, and cousins,
had been shocked at my most recent selection of transportation. It was flashier
and sportier than my last car, a four-door previously-owned Honda Accord I’d
driven for twelve years. I would’ve driven it longer but the repairs—engine,
transmission, air conditioning, and more—would’ve cost more than the car was
worth.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I’m not sure why I’d taken the
leap away from my sedan norm. Impulse isn’t my usual form. Would I be able to
keep her now that I was unemployed? My gut clenched.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“No claim ticket?” I asked the guy
in the tuxedo who had taken my key. I’d gone back and forth in my mind about
going. Finally, I gave in after fifteen calls and even more texts from both Lea
and Mia.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“No need. No man would be able to
forget you.” He smiled and his eyes fixed on mine, giving me a shiver. “Have
fun. Your car is safe with me, miss.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“We’ll see,” I said, turning to
head up the stairs to the double doors of my sister’s new home. It looked more
like a castle than a home in the suburbs of Dallas.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
When I walked inside, the castle
motif continued. Heavy wooden furniture was scattered around a foyer twice as
big as my one-bedroom apartment. An elderly man in a butler’s uniform greeted
me. His accent was English.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Welcome, Miss Weiss. Master
Brogan and your sister will be pleased you have come. They are with the other
guests in the music room, just past these stairs and to your right.” The man
was so formal. “May I escort you there?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I had the oddest feeling I should
curtsy or something, but instead I only said, “No thank you. I can hear the
crowd from here. I’ll find it on my own.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“As you wish, madam.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
The whole place seemed odd for
Lex’s taste. I would’ve guessed him to be more on the modern side of things,
and this home was anything but. The paintings I passed lining the walls were of
landscapes. Some looked like masterpieces from previous centuries, though I
didn’t recognize any of them. Classic sculptures, lit beautifully, were in
alcoves.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I had no idea the sex club
business was so lucrative. My sister lived here now as queen bee. Lucky girl.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
As I entered the music room—more
like a palatial ballroom—my jaw dropped to the floor. The space vibrated with
the large crowd and the music from the four-person rock band playing on the
stage opposite where I stood. Have you ever felt alone in a big crowd? That’s
how I was feeling, and nervous, too. I was wondering how the hell I was going
to find my sister or cousin when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned
and came face to face with two devastatingly handsome men.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
They towered over me, both several
inches over six feet tall. The one to my left with the green eyes leaned into
my ear and spoke loud enough for me to hear his deep rumble of a voice. “Are
you Misty?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I nodded sheepishly, admiring his
thick, dark hair. He had the longest lashes I’d ever seen on a man. He wore
jeans and a crisp white oxford shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his forearms.
His hands were big and his wrists were thick. He was beautifully male.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
The other man to my right, with
the dark brown eyes and bulging muscles for days, pointed to his ears,
indicating how loud the room was. He motioned for me to follow. The gray
T-shirt he wore couldn’t conceal the powerhouse arms and chest he had. Neither
could the jeans hide his muscled legs, which were thick as a linebacker’s. He
turned and started walking toward a closed door to our left, giving me an unobstructed
view of his backside. Michelangelo’s David didn’t have that nice of an ass.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Green eyes smiled as if to say
everything was going to be okay. I wasn’t so sure but didn’t have a better idea
at the moment. They knew who I was. Perhaps Lex or Mia had sent them to fetch
me. I certainly hoped so since my heart was racing just being near them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
We left the hubbub and walked
through a door into a side room.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“There you are,” Mia said. She was
sitting on a sofa next to our cousin.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“It’s about time, girl.” Lea
patted the cushion next to her. Relief washed away my nervousness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Hey,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Mia smiled. “Come sit with us.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Kane and Reed, Lea’s men, were
standing in the corner talking to three other guys.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“This is some party. Where’s Lex?”
I asked Mia.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“He’s getting us some drinks. I
see you’ve met Trip and Dominick.” The corners of her lips curled up into a
mischievous grin. Was she trying to play matchmaker? Which of these two studs
did she have in mind for me? God, my sister could really push my buttons. I was
in no mood to meet any guys tonight. I only wanted a distraction from my own
thoughts about losing my job. I didn’t want a date. But what better way to
distract myself? Were these guys attached to Lex’s club in some fashion?
Likely. If so, I wasn’t interested. Couldn’t be. Mia and Lea might like the
kinky stuff, but not me. I have had a few illicit dreams about the club after
hearing stories from them. No. I had to remain focused.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I turned to green eyes. “Are you
Trip or Dominick?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Trip,” he said, fixing his stare
on me, making my blood warm.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Pleased to meet you,” I said in
my most corporate tone and held out my hand.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
He took my hand in his and looked
at my fingers as if they were made of priceless crystal. After several nervous
seconds, his big eyes returned to mine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
My legs weakened and my breath
became shallow. I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself, so I steadied my
stance and deliberately deepened my inhalation.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“The pleasure is mine, Misty. All
mine.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Trip’s good looks and pick-up
lines were impacting my nerves. Hoping to gain some much-needed stability, I
pulled my hand free and turned to the other handsome man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“You are Dominick then?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“The one and only. Call me Nick.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Thank you both for bringing me to
my sister.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“I’m with Trip on this one, Misty.
Guiding you here has been a pleasure. If I have any say in this, and believe me
I do, I will see you again.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I lowered my eyes to my fingertips
as a fresh bout of anxiety rolled through me. Was he flirting with me? Was
Trip, too?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
When it comes to the nuances of
attraction, and in particular how to communicate through the minefield of
desire, I am always lost. Always.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
The two delicious-looking studs
just stood there staring at me. All eyes suddenly turned my direction. Were
Trip and Nick waiting for me to say something? God, what could I say? What
should I say? I remained mute for what seemed like several minutes but was
likely more a few seconds. I opened my mouth to say something banal and was
rescued when Lex walked into the room, distracting everyone away from me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Hey, baby.” Lex placed a cocktail
on the coffee table in front of Mia before lifting her up in his arms like she
was made of air. Mia’s man was quite strong. “This room is sure quiet. What
gives?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Mia leaned her head into his
chest. “Your boys are teasing my sister, that’s what.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Lex turned and glared at Trip and
Nick. “This is a munch. Just a munch. Got it?”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Trip’s left eyebrow shot up. “This
isn’t my first rodeo, boss.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
“Mine either,” Nick said. “We know
the score. Doesn’t mean we can’t get to know this doll better.” He pointed at
me, and my cheeks burned like lava.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
Trip nodded. “She’s club bound, no
doubt about it.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .25in;">
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt because I loved writing it. Now to the fun part I will be giving away a copy
of one of my backlist books to one lucky commenter. Tina will contact you so
please leave an email addy for her. <br />
<br />
Good Luck and lots of Hugs, <br />
Kris <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-48761347111175212942014-04-02T18:48:00.001-05:002014-04-02T18:48:32.565-05:00The Dedicated Follower<div class="MsoNormal">
Wow, that makes me sound like a lemming. If you don’t know what
one is, Google will help you out. By being a dedicated follower, I mean I
follow authors. Yes, in a stalkerish way. (Yes, Merriam-Webster, I do make up
my own words so <i>Nanananana!</i>)<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Have you guessed what today’s blog is about? Yes, you are
right it is about authors. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Let’s start with how I became a dedicated follower. Luna
Wildwood said Stalker sounded bad so she told me that I was a dedicated
follower. Therefore, I am going to stick with that. Anyway, I was never really
a dedicated follower of anyone till about 20 years ago. I am not sure how my
stalk... I mean my following began. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have always been a voracious reader. I would pick up any
book that caught my eye and read it then move on to the next one. I don’t know
what author triggered my obsession with collecting, but I found myself just
buying books by certain authors. I know I missed a lot of good authors but I
can now say I have a complete collection of Connie Mason, Hannah Howell,
Sherrilyn Kenyon, Sandra Hill and even Tom Clancy. Between these author’s new
books, I would still read others, but they never triggered the need to buy
their entire back lists. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then it happened, and I know I have told this story so if
you have heard it, suck it up. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of my favorite people in the world, Bonnie Hoffmaster,
sent me <i>Decadent </i>by Shayla Black for
my birthday. I became hooked on Shayla’s writing and started collecting her
backlist. This also introduced me to erotic romance. I then joined Kris Cook’s chats where I
actually was able to talk to the authors. This drew me in like a bear to honey.
I first bought all of Kris’s books, which at the time was <i>Three to Play </i>and <i>Perfection.
</i>This was one of the easiest collections to gather. I then started on Melissa
Schroeder. Wow, that woman can write fast. As I was getting my collection of
Melissa, I started buying several authors who regularly attended chat. My
bookshelves started to get out of control. I would buy them all in print when I
could find them. If they were just in ebook form then I would buy them and buy
the print book later when it became available. My book shelves started to
groan. I always tried to buy at least one book by every author that came to
chat. Not all of them triggered my buying obsession but a few did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think one of the reasons that I started collecting
author’s work is because of Facebook. When authors connect with you, it makes
you want to support them. Other times, it makes you want to run screaming. But
that is another tale to be told later. Anyway, I don’t just collect the books
of author’s I talk to but it does help if they are personable and genuine in
their comments and interaction. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back to the original subject. Damn my blog ADD. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a huge collection of books now on my shelves and my
bank account hisses at me when I go to a book seller site, but I have lots of
pretties to pet and more importantly read. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do you collect author’s work or are you a “if it catches my eye” kind of reader? Whose
books do you collect? Is there a reason you collect certain authors? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmutteister<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-826104938548868992014-03-27T00:00:00.000-05:002014-03-27T09:05:46.308-05:00 Meeting Authors is a Double Edge Sword<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yep, here is the blog that may kill me. I have to be honest
and say some negative things about authors. By the end of this blog, I will
probably have my sad on. This blog is going to be a tough one for me to write
because I hold authors in such high esteem. I know they are regular people and
have off days and get crabby. But when you are meeting people who have taken
the time to drive and sometimes fly to see you, you should suck it up and be
nice and welcoming because your livelihood depends on them in a way. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Okay, you have read
about my wonderful first meeting with Sherrilyn Kenyon. She is the gold standard to which I will probably
always hold authors. I met her once more since that first time. This time I
drove three hours to get my books signed. I have to say that Dianna Love once
again was a hit with the crowd. We were in a small Barnes & Noble with very
little room to seat people. It was hot and crowded. You could literally see
people starting to wilt before the signing even started. I waited in line for
about two hours and had the chance to meet up with Dianna as she walked the
line talking to people. She was so funny and seemed to genuinely care about
what the fans had to say. A few times she would run up and make notes and then
comeback and talk some more. By the time I got to the front of the line, I was
once again nervous (but not so much that I wanted to run. Sherri was most
definitely running out of steam and you could tell it, but she sucked it up and
kept on chatting and signing. She was rushed by the managers of the store
because they wanted to close, but she kept saying that it would be just a
little while longer. She made it through everyone with a lot of grace that I
wouldn’t have had. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Moving on to my next meeting with authors... <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One night in RP (it was Kris Cook Chatters then), a group of
us were yappin. I know shocking, right? Anyhow, someone mentioned AAD, Authors
After Dark. I had no idea what they were talking about so I had to ask. Well,
it was explained, and I was okay big deal. A few days later several of our
authors mentioned they were going to go. I started looking into going, as well.
I had to figure out the whole money thing and if I could work up the courage to
go and be there with no one I had actually met before. Kris Cook and Melissa
Schroeder said I should go. And then Christie Von Ditter and Marcy Barr
McDermott said they were going to try and make it as well. I was still hem-hawing
about it—until Bonnie Hoffmaster told me she was also going to be there. That
sealed my fate. I booked my flight and made my hotel reservations. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had never flown before so I got all my tips from my boys
at work. I made it to St. Louis, which is about an hour’s drive from my house,
about 2 hours before my plane was supposed to take off. I had copies of everything I thought I might
need and was nervously awaiting boarding.
I was so happy that when I got on the plane, there were plenty of empty
seats. I moved to the back next to the bathroom in case I got airsick. I told
you I had never flown before. The take off was good. No problems. The landing
in Philadelphia was rough, not a good feeling for a first time flyer. I was the
last one off the plane and made my way to the taxis then I was off to the
hotel. I was so nervous that I thought about just hiding in my room. Bonnie had told me to text her when I got to
the hotel. I went up to my room and sat down for a few minutes. Now the
conference started on Wednesday, but I didn’t arrive till Friday. I sat there
thinking I have to text Bonnie or she will worry. I finally did it. She was
down in lounge getting lunch so I slowly made my way down there. I had only
talked to Bonnie on the phone and online so I was still really nervous. She saw
me before I saw her, and she ran up and gave me the biggest hug. I instantly
fell right into ‘This is my friend’ mode and relaxed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We chatted a few moments and she had to get back so I went
to check in at the AAD desk. I picked up my welcome pack and went to the bar to
peruse what was going on. I picked out what panels I wanted to sit in on and
waited. The first one I wanted to go to was one on ebooks. Why, you ask, would
I want in on that one? Well, two reasons: Melissa Schroeder and Kris Cook. Both
of them were going to be on the panel, and I wanted to see them before they
knew who I was. Yep, still chicken bawk, bawk, bawk. That didn’t work out so
well for me. I took the elevator up and walked into the room and saw Christie
and Marcy at the same time as they saw me. Hugs all around and then I noticed,
damn it all to hell, Kris and Mel were standing there, too. My heart started
pounding, and I thought I was going to pass out. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Kris looked at me took a step toward me and gave me the
biggest hug ever. He then passed me off to Mel, who also hugged me. I thought I
was going to die. Two of my favorite authors had just hugged me. We chatted a
few moments, and I have no recollection of what was said, then I lucked out and
the panel was ready to start. We found our seats and I was able to take a
breath. As the panel went on, I noticed several other authors. Some I knew,
others I had no clue. I looked back when someone asked a question and there was
Eliza Gayle. I had chatted with her online but did not know here that well. She
was talking and looking around, and she smiled at me. I think I smiled back,
but I am not sure. It was all a blur. I am not sure what happened next either.
But then I found myself sitting at a table down in the lounge area with several
people I didn’t know. Kris and everyone was chatting like crazy, and I was just
trying to take it all in without looking like an idiot. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the worst thing happened…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Melissa came down to join us. I was at the end of the table
and she sat right next to me. Once again, I was beset by nerves and I think I
mumbled something but I couldn’t concentrate on anything from that point on. After
a few drinks, everyone went their separate ways for dinner. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By nature, I am a lurker. I am not outgoing or a social
butterfly. I people watch and, sometimes, I see things that others don’t. I met
a few more authors and was not overly impressed by them. Overall, I liked most
of the ones I met. Eliza Gayle made a big impression on me. I liked her books
but now I liked her as a person as well. It made me want to buy her books and
help her in some small way become more successful. I also met Kendra Egert. Wow,
what a wonderful woman. I have met her again this year. And yep, she is still
amazing. I wish I had gotten the chance to spend more time with her. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now moving on to the ones that I didn’t really like. Nope, I
am not mentioning names. They didn’t really do anything that pissed me off, but
they really were not friendly either. Most I was very ambivalent about. That is
never a good thing. As an author, when you are making public appearances, you
always have to be onstage. You are not just selling your books. You are
somewhat selling yourself. I am more likely to buy a book from someone who made
me feel welcome and like they were interested in what I had to say than someone
who just looked bored and wanted to be anywhere other than where they were. I
know that a lot of authors are shy or kind of introverted but you have to suck
it up and put yourself out there and sell your books and yourself (no, for all
you dirty minded people, I didn’t mean that one literally). If you don’t think
you can do that then you need to either take a class or stay home and just be
more outgoing online. I know what I am speaking of, believe it or not. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For those of you who don’t know me, I hate everyone and go
from there. I am not really outgoing but since I work in retail, I learned to
tolerate people for 5 minutes and then move on to the next crazy. Sometimes you
are surprised and like someone or, at least, make a connection for a minute.
That is all it takes for a reader to decide whether they want to read your
books or just ignore you forever. I know that when I tell customers that I have
met an author and what they were like it helps sell their books. I still have
to suck it up and convince myself to go to conventions but sometimes meeting an
author makes it worth all the stress. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4057912797982506792.post-82353811427212409212014-03-20T09:48:00.000-05:002014-03-20T09:48:41.677-05:00Mia's Blog <div class="MsoNormal">
This blog is for Mia Ashlinn. She
beta reads my blogs looking for the multitude of grammatical errors that run
rampant through anything I write whether it be blogs or letters or posts.
Anyway she is always telling me that her favorite blogs are the ones where I am
more personal, so this is all her fault and you can send her all the messages. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sitting here nekkid, yep, I
said nekkid. I am all alone except for my cat who seems to be looking at me
with disgust. I am nervous, self-conscious and scared. Now you are scared, but no
need there will be no pictures. I bet you are hoping this doesn’t go into the
dreaded TMI zone. You are safe, I promise…. maybe mwahahahahaha. Why then am I
nekkid, scared, and self- conscious, because this is blog is about one of my
rediscovered favorite things, baths. That explains the nekkid and the self-
conscious but the nervous….. well I am actually writing it while I am in the
tub so I am worried about knocking the computer in the water. Anyway, a bath is
something we dreaded as kids but long for as adults. And I have recently found
the joy again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few of you might know that I
recently moved, my new apartment has given me something I have never had in my
life. A private bathroom. This is HUGE!!! Not the bathroom but the fact that I
have one that I only share with my cats. I am one of those rare people who has
never lived alone. I grew up with 11 siblings and my mother so a bathroom to
myself was never an option. My entire adult life I have lived with at least one
sibling which means hurry up and get out of the bathroom so I have only been
able to take showers. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the things that sold me on
this apartment was that I would have the master bedroom, with that came a walk
in closet and a private bathroom. I moved in October and that means I get
extremely busy with work. But with the New Year, for those who work in retail,
means February. I have more time. I have started to find something that I
haven’t done since I was a girl. Baths. I had forgotten how relaxing they could
be. I took my first bath a few weeks ago and I will get to that but I need to
explain something. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
\</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have a love hate relationship with
water. I don’t even enjoy drinking it. I grew up drinking spring water that my
grandfather always had around so city water and most bottled water makes me
want to heave. I almost drowned a couple of times as a kid even though I had
two years of swim lessons. Everyone in my family swims like the fishes but I
sink to the bottom everytime. I know how to swim but I still sink because I
can’t relax I guess. I love the rain but I don’t like to be submerged in water
except for baths. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I took my first bath in years a few
weeks ago and it was only because I pulled a leg muscle at work and it kept
tightening up so I decided a bath would help loosen it before bed. I started
the water added Burt’s Bees Therapeutic Bath Crystals and stepped in. Sidebar
here, anyone else notice that you can
stand the hottest showers but step into the tub with the same temperature water
and you feel like a lobster being prepared for dinner? I fixed the water
temperature so I could actually sit in it without needing the paramedics. Then
something amazing happened, my whole body started to relax. I leaned back and
thought of nothing. I had found solitude except for Grimm who felt the need to
sit on the edge and look at me like I was a freak. I stayed in the tub for a little while that
first time but I decided this would become a private ritual between me and my
cat (mainly because he won’t leave). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have now started to take baths
every couple of days. I still need my morning shower to wake up but a lot of
nights I will get my drink of choice, my computer and just head to the tub. Why
my computer you ask because Midsommer Murders helps me relax so I need Netflix.
I will get the temp of the water just right and climb on in for at least one
episode. I do however need to let water out and refill when it gets cold
because an episode is about 90 minutes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It surprised me how much I am loving
my time in the tub. I can watch DCI Tom Barnaby solve crimes in the villages of
Midsommer and think about whatever is bothering me on any given day. There is
only one thing missing and this is where you all come in. I need a good bubble bath. I hate
shopping so please give a girl some suggestions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sinfully Sarcastic,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shmuttmeister <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11792118060585784111noreply@blogger.com2