Smart and Sexy

This contest ends Monday, April 2, at 9:00p.m. central time

Since we know I am fascinated by anything Shalvis, it is no surprise that I chose to replace today’s spam with a posting by none other than the author herself. Yes folks, today’s guest blogger is Jill Shalvis – everyone give a round of applause. And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t mention the lack of spam. Right?






Sometimes a story idea comes to me like a gift, all wrapped up in a nice little package with a pretty bow. And sometimes I have to pull it out of a hat without the benefit of magic, and usually without the benefit of Novocain. SMART AND SEXY was a gift book. It came to me complete with full characters and a plot that practically wrote itself. From the first scene of Bailey sneaking on board Noah’s private plane and then forcing him to fly her where she needed to go in order to save her life, I knew the truth. This book was going to be a blast to write. No pulling out fingernails to get my pages done. No bribing myself with cookies to sit in the chair and write.



Well, I still ate cookies.



But my point is that this book flew out of me. Noah, so put together on the outside. Great career, hot looks, amazing friends. And yet so tortured on the inside, because of an accident he couldn’t get out of his head.



Bailey. So screwed up on the outside. Bad guys after her. No home, no money, thanks to her thieving dead husband. And yet, so capable on the inside. Capable enough to bring a good man to his knees in the face of love. Who’d have thought it?



Anyway, I have excerpts and more on my website. Stop by and say hi at my blog, would love to have you. Hope you enjoy the book!





Thanks Jill! Okay, there's also a little something extra today: A Contest!!! I have a brand-spanking new copy of Smart and Sexy that I pre-ordered before I won the ARC, so I'm giving it away. What do you do? Just tell me who you think is smart and sexy - they can be read, fictional, etc. If you've already read the book, just say so and answer me anyway. Because the blog is late, you have until 9:00 p.m. central time on Monday, April 2.

New Toy

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Unfortunately, it's too big to put on my sidebar. Any suggestions? I loved doing this, got it from Siobhan.

Checking In

Okay, it’s time for your weekly update into Bailey’s psyche. Well, it’s here, which is about all I can say. I’m not writing because my mind isn’t into focusing at the moment. Too many things are whirling around my brain at the same time. I’m having trouble sleeping – I head to bed at a decent hour, but my body and mind aren’t in sync enough to go to sleep. I’ve tried many things to help me sleep – warm showers, music, nature sounds (which worked one night), even a half a glass of a margarita. Last night nothing worked. I have developed restless legs – a side effect of the medication that I hope passes soon. I’m already lacking in energy, and lacking in sleep doesn’t help. I have to be very careful right now since I seem to be in a spending mood, so I’m staying in a lot and avoiding on-line shopping sites. I was on Borders the other day and ended up pre-ordering Amie’s two up-coming books. *sigh* What can I say, I’m a book addict. That’s what’s going on with me – just waiting for the meds to kick in (about a month – I’ve gone a week and a half on the mood stabilizer and a week on the anti-depressant). I’m tired of waiting.

So, what’s going on in your neck of the woods?

Ode to Spring

So it’s Spring, a time when every man’s fancy turns to love and every allergist orders their new BMW. Yep, allergy season. Flowers bloom and cast their sickening pollen into the four corners of the globe, instantly sending innocent humans into raging bulges of histamine. Sort of the Incredible Hulk of the sinus world. Spring, when the winds still sweep down from the Plains, pulling with them gusts of cedar and any other mountainous, plainous, regionalous piece of gritty dirt and grain it can gather. Spring, which brings rain, which in turn feeds the humidity level and nurturing the growth of tiny armies of spore ready to pounce with merciless fury on every human being. No man, woman or child are spared this ravaging menace. Spring will get you, in one form or another, and yet, our government allows it to continue. Everything else that can make us sick is outlawed, but not Spring. I blame the Spring lobbyist; those bastions of non-allergy mutants that rejoice in the coming of Spring.

Now that we know how I feel about Spring, what's your favorite season?

Lush

I haven't done a book promotion in a while, in fact, I haven't done a book review about that same amount of time. What have I been doing? Who knows. But when I heard that Sasha White, one of my favorite erotica authors, had her first single author anthology, Lush, coming out - well, I had to say something. I love Sasha's work. I love how she weaves a story - and no one is hotter. So if you're looking for a great erotica - I'd recommend checking out Lush. There's a reason Sasha White is one of my auto-buys.

A gallery show casing erotic art is the setting for these three sensual stories. A take charge gallery owner finds the tables turned by a sexy carpenter…A relationship-shy jewelry designer meets her match in a man devoted to her pleasure…A beautiful massage therapist shows a photographer how much fun candid shots can be…
In three scorching tales, Sasha White reveals the art of pure pleasure.

"Within the pages of LUSH, you will discover three sensual tales that will have you laughing, crying and grabbing for a fan to cool off. Ms. White does an excellent job penning these short stories to read like full length novels. The characterization, imagery and intriguing plots will keep you mesmerized until you have finished the last page." -Billie Jo, reviewer for Romance Junkies

"Sasha White’s stories are molten lava all wrapped up in spun silk. Richly emotional and highly passionate, these erotic stories take the reader on a sensuous journey inside the bedroom and out. These sexually explosive novellas will undoubtedly leave you breathless and begging for more. Sasha White continues to have a spot on my keeper shelf." -Cathryn Fox, author of Pleasure Control

Please check out the erotic LUSH GALLERY on Sasha's website

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:



Lush



by Sasha White


SEXUAL HEALING
She was late.
Damn it. She hated being late. To Caitlyn, lateness was just plain rude. People who said they were always late ‘no matter what’ were people who didn’t care about others, even as a common courtesy.

In this case, she was late for two reasons. Okay, really it was one reason. She wasn’t sure being the model for her best friend’s line of erotic body decorations was a good idea. And because she was unsure, she’d let herself get distracted by Ben, therefore making herself late. And testy.

Her energy was super high and she was strung tight. Part of it was frustration from watching Ben and not being able to take care of herself. If she’d been smart enough to carry the silly little pocket rocket she had, maybe she’d have been able to give herself a little quick TLC.

But part of her also felt like something big was about to happen. There was a small burn of anticipation running through her.

She gave herself a mental shake. Oh well, life goes on. Really, she could masturbate anytime, but these photos meant a lot to Mia and she’d already had to postpone once, she wouldn’t do it again.

Cait finished climbing the stairs to Jack Lowell’s studio loft and knocked on the door.

Big place. She wondered if there were other studios like it available in the building. One with a window facing east for the sunshine would be wonderful. She could maybe finally have her own little holistic healing center, she’d only need a tiny space for a bedroom, and the rest of the loft would be workspace.

As she was peeking around to see if there were any other doors or apartments, the one behind her opened.

“It’s about time you got here.” The voice was deep and harsh. As if it were rusty from disuse.

Caitlyn turned back to the studio loft and stared at the man there. He had short, dark blond hair that was mussed and spiked up all over, not in a style, but in a who-gives-a-damn way. He had jeans and a gray t-shirt on and looked somewhat presentable, except for the black wisps drifting through his aura.

The man was messed up. The light base told her he was intelligent. He was physically fit, but the location and movement of the darkness told her he was feeling pretty negative, even depressed.

“Jack Lowell?”

“Who else would be answering my door? Come in, already. You’re late.”

Charming too, she thought as she walked into the loft. When she was close enough to see past the photographer’s facial hair and scowl, she almost gasped at the beautiful green eyes. Surrounded by long thick eyelashes, his piercing gaze gave the impression he could see everything. And the shadows she saw flickering in them told her he had seen a lot.

Enough to cast the darkness she saw in his soul.


Jack shut the door behind the woman and wondered what the hell Teal had been thinking to send him an overweight model.

Then he heaved a mental sigh and decided it was none of his business. Teal Jamison might be a friend who was kind enough to send him some commercial work to help pay his bills, but she was also her own businesswoman, and a smart one. So he’d just take the pictures and mind his own business.

Besides, this was a one time only thing for him. He photographed objects, not people, what did he know about models?

“There’s a screen over there,” he said, and pointed to the corner of the room next to his drop cloth set up. “You can get undressed there.”

She stood in the middle of the room, gazing around for a minute before she turned to him and held out her hand. “I’m Caitlyn Ellis.”

“I know.”

Her eyes ran over him and he was suddenly aware that he hadn’t shaved for days. A shiver ran down his spine and he wondered what she saw. He’d showered; he was clean.
She had a strange expression on her face and he wondered if she was nervous about posing for him. “You’re safe to get undressed, but if you want to call a friend so you’re not alone with me, I’ll wait.” I’ll be pissed off, but I’ll wait.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m fine with you. Where do I undress?”

He pointed to the corner again and she turned and went toward it. When she was behind the screen, he listened to the sounds of her clothes coming off and fought the urge to sneak a shot of whiskey. He had a bottle of Jack Daniels in the kitchen area and the craving was strong.

“Do you take a lot of nude portraits?” she asked as she came out from behind the screen.

Holy shit!

She hadn’t bothered with a robe and she walked over the center of the drop cloth completely naked and natural. Big, beautiful breasts were the first things he noticed. Then, the fact that they were both pierced with sapphire tipped studs. Shanks? Barbell’s, that’s what they were called, a barbell.

“You didn’t bring a robe?” He tried not to stare. He’d seen naked women before. Plenty of them, in fact.

But Caitlyn was beautiful. She reminded him of those old oil paintings of well-rounded renaissance women stretched out decadently on a chaise lounge. Lush and sensual, with soft creamy skin that was made for a man’s touch. And a completely shaven pussy.

He swallowed and tried not to notice his body’s reaction.

A Mother Knows

Brian invited his mother over for dinner. During the course of the meal, Brian's mother couldn't help but notice how beautiful Brian's roommate, Jennifer, was.

Brian's Mom had long been suspicious of a relationship between Brian and Jennifer, and this had only made her more curious. Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Brian and Jennifer than met the eye. Reading his mom's thoughts, Brian volunteered, "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you Jennifer and I are just roommates."

About a week later, Jennifer came to Brian saying, "Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find the beautiful silver gravy ladle. You don't suppose she took it, do you?" Brian said, "Well, I doubt it, but I'll send her an e-mail just to be sure. So he sat down and wrote:
Dear Mom:I'm not saying that you "did" take the gravy ladle from the house, I'm not saying that you "did not" take the gravy ladle. But the fact remains that one has been missing ever since you were here for dinner.
Love, Brian

Several days later, Brian received an email back from his mother that read:

Dear Son: I'm not saying that you "do" sleep with Jennifer, I'm not saying that you "do not" sleep with Jennifer. But the fact remains that if Jennifer is sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now.
Love, Mom

LESSON OF THE DAY - NEVER LIE TO YOUR MOTHER

Cats Rules for Hampering

If one of your humans is engaged in some close activity and the other is idle, stay with the busy one. This is called "helping", otherwise known as "hampering." Following are the rules for "hampering":

1. When supervising cooking, sit just behind the left heel of the cook. You cannot be seen and thereby stand a better chance of being stepped on and then picked up and comforted. It's even funnier when they try to avoid stepping on you and fall into a counter or table.

2. For book readers, get in close under the chin, between eyes and book, unless you can lie across the book itself.

3. For paperwork, lie on the work in the most appropriate manner so as to obscure as much of the work or at least the most important part. Pretend to doze, but every so often reach out and slap the pencil or pen. The worker may try to distract you; ignore it. Remember, the aim is to hamper work.

4. When a human is holding the newspaper in front of him/her, be sure to jump on the back of the paper.

Spamarama Ding Dong

Add that new dick this Spring. (I never even got the old one.)
Don’t waste your time, have sex immediately. (Sorry, haven’t added that new dick yet.)
He marital. (The dick? Wow.)
What’s the deal with Travelzoo? (Travelzoo? If you try to tell me that my new dick comes from a zoo, I may go postal.)
This convinced me that some of you might like to see them too. (Well yes, if I’m going to add a new dick, I’d like to pick it out myself.)
Or my roundhead. (Keep you pants on fella.)
Avoid enhancement pills. (Avoid them? Why, are they accosting people on the streets and making them swallow the pills?)
It ruled out involvement of any hostile fire. (Wow, you guys are getting serious about this erectile dysfunction thingy.)
Do you have ED? Forget about it. (Ed? Ed who? How can I forget who I don’t know?)
Not much of a man. (Obviously, that’s why I forgot him.)
Henry assumed his role in September 1995. (Henry assumed the role of Ed?)
Morning Ethiopians due. (Hey buddy, not until the evening ones are done.)
You are taking aspirin, do not drink alcoholic beverages, and stand naked. (Do not drink alcoholic beverages and stand naked; or take aspirin and stand naked, but do not drink alcoholic beverages? I have to be clear on this before Saturday night.)

Bebo's a Granny - #10

And I'm a new Gr-Aunt!

Hayden Elizabeth

Born 3/20/07

Time: 08:20 7lbs. 12 oz.

Proud Parents

Eric and Amber

A new little baby

to cuddle and love

To spoil just a little

and think the world of.

A bundle from Heaven

to simply adore

Now who in the world

could ask for more?

Siblings: J.D., Harley and Matthew

A Frill for a Thrill

I’m sitting here watching American Idol, and they’re talking about putting runs in songs, frilling it up so to speak. How sometimes it really isn’t necessary, to just let the song be the song. It made me think about writing. It seems lately that a lot of books are “frilled” out, filled with “runs” and gimmicks, bogging down and sometimes obscuring the stories. I like action, I like some paranormal, but I’ve read some books lately that read as if the author was throwing things in to stylize the book, to make it fit with these booming sub-genres. Have we lost the ability to tell a simple story, a love story where the focus is on the “love” and not the peripheral gogglidook jumping out everywhere? Can we still just sing the melody? What do you think?

I'm referring to romances here, not urban fantasy, or even fantasy at all.

Who's Your Inner Pop Princess?

Your Inner Pop Princess Is Kelly Clarkson

"Grew up in a small town And when the rain would fall down I'd just stare out my window Dreaming of what could be" No doubt about it, you have star quality. Might just take a while to get there.

Who's Your Inner Pop Princess?

That's not so bad, I kinda like Kelly.

Well, I'm feeling better, not wonderful, but better. Have a 9 - 5er on Tuesday, can we all say "Wowzaa". I've been having fun with the quizzes now that I've figured out how to post them.

Or, how about this funny from Susan:

Checking In

The only reason those furry little monsters have been able to take over is because I've come down with some sort of virus. When it rains, it pours. I'm in bed, and not able to sit up too long. I'm keeping nothing down - not ginger ale, not tea, nothing. And let's just say that both ends are having fun. I'm going back to sleep now, maybe I'll be better by Monday.

Dere Humanz

We have takin ovur the compooter. If u do not meet r demanz, u wil not see mommie Bailey agin.

1. catnip, lots of it
6. tuna. Nun of that watur crap, reel oyl.
18. milk, reel cow stuff
3. toys
8. comfy bed, fore of them


signed,
the katz

(eccept fur bubba, the cow-word)

Happy St. Patrick's Day

God made the grass, the air and the rain;
And the grass, the air and the rain made
the Irish; and the Irish turned the grass,
the air and the rain back into God.

Sean O’Faolain

Spamania

No prof go mississippian. (I’ve had some go native.)
Plus, with the wooden stand, a hot laptop no longer means a lowered sperm count. (There’s been a problem with that?)
Defiantly coast guard. (Yeah, that’s the Coast Guard, defiant to the end.)
Do you know that? (That’s what my dad always said.)
Don’t know where to buy pills? (Um, my guess would be … the drugstore?)
Never struggle with your jewelry again. (That’s what I took self defense for – I was tired of being beaten up by my jewelry.)
From all of us at Infraspection Institute, Happy Thanksgiving to all of our readers. (Isn’t it a little late for Thanksgiving? I think you’ve been infraspecting too much)
Fork intention final straw. (Oh yeah? Well fork you.)
Your dick will explode. (Not if I don’t pull the pin.)
How do I use Viagra Soft tabs? (Don’t worry about it, your dick will explode anyway.)
Silly Willy? (yep, silly willy. Kaboom!)
Amnesia meteorite. (another victim of the hijacked planetarium. When will it stop?)
Get ready for love in just 15 minutes. (Hugh’s coming over?)
He said he would wait 2 weeks if he were him. (If not Hugh, then who?)
Sorry to be late. (Oh no! Spam!)

Mixed News

I had a bit of an unusual day yesterday. Since we’re friends, I’ll always try to keep you informed about what is happening to me, but I won’t dwell on it – I want this to be a happy place.

Anyway, I went for a psych evaluation. We all know I’ve been depressed since mom’s death, but it’s more than that. I’ve been depressed for most of my adult life. So that was no surprise. We also know I suffer from a form of agoraphobia, once again no surprise, except for the fact that it’s getting worse. A panic disorder wasn’t a surprise either. What was the surprise was the probable diagnosis of bi-polar. Well, I can’t really say that that was a total surprise either – Bebo and I had suspected it for quite some time, since Howard was bi-polar and Bebo was very acquainted with that condition. I am around the same age Howard was when his condition became evident. Being bi-polar doesn’t really scare me as I know with medication that it can be handled. It’s what happened to Howard later that scares me. He began showing signs of schizophrenia – or rather schizoid affects. It’s in our family, there waiting in the shadows. I try not to think about it. But, the bi-polar does explain the spurts of writing and then none. It explains a lot of things.

Anyhoo, I just wanted everyone to know what was going on. I’ll be okay – as long as I have people to “talk” to so I don’t feel so isolated. Y’all have been great friends. Thank you.

EDIT: I forgot that some people have just begun popping in. Howard was my brother who passed away in 2005. Bebo is his widow.

The Tree

The tree wasn’t that old, only 28 – practically a baby in tree years, and yet it was gnarled, its branches twisted, some dead and no longer bearing leaves. For over two decades its leaves had shaded the front of the home, branches cradling nests high in the air. In the Summer it sheltered; Fall saw leaves turned yellow; its branches bare by Winter’s cold, made magical by Christmas lights wrapped around a thick trunk; but each Spring it went into bud, long wormy fuzzy things shedding all over the place, shoes trailing them into the house. A man planted the tree and ended up cursing it; a grandmother held it straight during planting; children swung from its lower limbs. Squirrels scrambled through its branches, Keystone Kop-like in their afternoon fun. It had witnessed much - sorrow, happiness, anger and pain.

The tree wasn’t that old, only 28 … and as much as I hate that tree I shall miss it very much.

So, do you have a love/hate relationship with something?

Bored

I have absolutely nothing to blog about. It’s been one of those weeks, you know, when I could use a bear. A goose. Big hairy spider and a dead husband walking. That’s part of the problem with living alone, I have no one to blame for eating all of the cookies, except for myself. (Did I mention they were the chocolate chip cookies that I’d baked for Jill? – yeah, she knows, I’m forgiven … I think) If only the cats would act out – back talk me, give me funny things to talk about, but no – they stick to cat stuff, nothing out of the ordinary. Darn it. So I guess it’s time for that “I’ve got nothing to blog about” subject – Whatcha reading? I have a stack, no make that stacks, of books next to the bed.

That's my post, and I'm sticking to it.

Playing Chicken

This is supposedly a true story, if not - well, it's cute anyway.

This is the transcript of an actual radio conversation of a U.S. Navy ship with Canadian authorities off the coast of Newfoundland in October, 1995.

Radio conversation released by the Chief of Naval operations, October 10, 1995.

Canadians: Please divert your course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: Recommend you divert your course 15 degrees to the North to avoid a collision.

Canadians: Negative. You will have to divert your course 15 degrees to the South to avoid a collision.

Americans: This is the captain of a U.S. Navy ship. I say again, divert your course.

Canadians: No, I say again, you divert your course.

Americans: This is the Aircraft carrier USS Lincoln, the second largest ship in the United States Atlantic fleet. We are accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers and numerous support vessels. I demand that you change your course 15 degrees North, I say again, one five degrees North, or countermeasures will be undertaken to ensure the safety of this ship.

Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your turn.

Goodbye Winter

If today’s 83 degree temp is any indication – Winter is over here in North Texas. Now commences Tornado Season Spring. So as a homage to Winter, here is the one good snow sleet storm we had. Sleet isn’t bad to walk on, unless you’re going downhill. See the ramp – yep, I was pretty trapped until it melted.