Guest Appearance

Yours truly is at the Book Boost Blog today. Come and get the inside scoop about how I write sex. Do I research with a hot hunk? Maybe... You'll have to come on over and find out. ;)

The Book Boost

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays

I wanted to take this opportunity to wish all of my friends, followers and supporters out there a huge Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. These last six months have been quite extraordinary. On Saturday, the Imaginarium will be six months old and the response to my little blog so far has been overwhelming. I am humbled and overjoyed by all of you out there. :)

I love this time of year with all the decorations and lights. I have little traditions that I keep just for me that help make this time year even more special. I miss my dad and some good friends who have all gone on. I still like to keep them in my thoughts and in the dark of night on Christmas Eve I light a candle in the window and let it burn til dawn. I also love to sleep by the tree with all the lights blinking. After our family get together, I love to come home and watch a marathon of horror films. Nothing like a good scare with some slice and dice to work out the aftereffects of all that sugar, fat and carbs.

I also love hearing how others celebrate. What are some things you like to do on the holidays?

Destiny Blaine and her Cowboys for Christmas

For more on Cowboys for Christmas click here

Imaginarians, today we have author Destiny Blaine in the house. Whoo Hoo!! She is one of the hottest erotica writers out there and I am so happy she has included a stop here on her whirlwind blog tour. Take it away, Destiny...


Hi Melissa,


Thank you for hosting a blog stop on Destiny Blaine’s 12 Days of Christmas Blog Tour. Today, our Twelve Days of Christmas Blog Tour comes to an end. After twelve days of blogging, we’ll have some winners to announce. To enter to win the grand prize, bloggers need to leave a comment at some or all of the blogs hosting the tour. They can enter up to three comments per blog spot. Late tonight, I’ll stop back by and award one lucky winner with a very special prize package valued at over $200. The package will be delivered to the winner’s home and contains various items—many of my favorite things. More details will follow later tonight. Contest ends at 11:01 PM EST so enter to win right here and at the other participating blogs.

In the meantime, I thought I’d end the blog tour with a final day of promoting Cowboys for Christmas. If you purchase Cowboys for Christmas and send your receipt to me before 11:01 PM EST tonight, I’ll have a special e-surprise for you. Send your receipt to destinyblaine@yahoo.com with BOUGHT ONE—GIVE ME THREE FREE in the subject line.

Some of you have read the short essay below, but for those of you who haven’t, I brought along a taste of why I’m often inspired to write about cowboys.

I grew up on a cattle ranch in East Tennessee. My father was considered a cattle trader rather than a farmer. The biggest difference in our working farm was that the animals there only wandered the fields for a very short time. They were simply passing through without the luxury of an extended visit. The cowboys who stopped by our farm, typically never stayed around very long either which is why I was never permitted to “date” a cowboy.

By the time I was a teenager, one such cowboy caught my attention and he held it longer than a country minute. He used to visit our place once a month, twice if I was lucky. After drooling from a distance—and daydreaming about this ‘nice’ young man for more days than I recall, I finally realized that I was in ‘love’ with a cowboy. I made a vow to myself--eventually, I’d make a play for him and with any luck, he’d notice me.

The day I gained his undivided attention just so happened to be a hot summer afternoon when boredom consumed me. I was bound and determined to ride a horse that had stubbornly refused all riders for a good number of months. My father was the only one who ever stayed on her back but I decided I was going to ride the unruly beast too.

This particular June day, I felt confident I’d go unnoticed because the farm was buzzing with activity. After my father returned to the barn and began sorting cattle, I decided it was time to make a lasting impression on the mare no one in their right mind wanted to ride.

I took Misty into a large open field and with the help of a dilapidated fence; I stepped into the stirrup, threw a leg over her croup and planted my then-tiny backside into the saddle. I was, in fact, barely there when Misty decided to bolt through the pastures… and she headed straight for the river-bottoms.

The route Misty chose placed me at a great disadvantage. We didn’t go unnoticed as we galloped by the first barn and that’s when I saw—him. The cowboy of my dreams was just stepping out of his truck when we raced right by him. Since I was more than a little occupied, I don’t think I waved hello but through the cloud of dust we managed to stir, the amusement danced across his face. There was no doubt about it. He thought the ridiculous show was all for him and I was in for quite an embarrassing ride.

If you’ve ever been a passenger on a runaway train, then you can probably relate to my predicament. My arms flapped out to the side and I lost my balance almost immediately but I still managed to hang on for dear life.

After riding for what seemed like forever, Misty reached an abrupt decision and without a moment to spare, she halted right before she reached a slight embankment. Since I didn’t have the reins of control I desperately wanted to have, I landed at the edge of Holston River. While Misty didn’t want to splash mud on her pretty dapple-grey legs, she didn’t hold the same consideration for her rider.

By the time the ‘search party’ arrived to retrieve me, there were only two men I didn’t want to see and they were there to fetch me. After my dad threw a slight fit for show (he was more bark than bite), he rode the horse back to the barn. I was swiftly helped into the front seat of an old truck and to my dismay, the one behind the wheel was one handsome cowboy.

While it’s been a long time ago, I still remember his polite mannerism. He seemed to ignore the fact that I was covered in mud. However, after a few minutes of small talk, he decided to put to rest any notions of something so ridiculous in the future.

His parting words stayed with me for several years. He said, “If you’re going to get a man’s attention, choose a horse you can ride and sweetheart, if you want a cowboy who will teach you all about it—let me know when you turn eighteen.” I later discovered he was twenty and after I made the mistake of telling my brother of the experience, he never came back to our farm again.

After writing about enough cowboys in romance, today I understand why the young man never returned. I also realize why so many women love to open up a spicy western when these sexy denim-clad men occupy the pages inside. Cowboys are the ultra-bad Alpha male and most I've met are sweet-talking gentlemen.

Cowboys say the right thing even when it’s the inappropriate one. They look at their women in a most suggestive way and they typically fill out a pair of Levis better than any man alive. With a devilish smile and a lingering gaze that tells a woman everything she needs to know, it’s no wonder so many authors find their inspiration in the spiciest of men.

I later ran into the hell-hot cowboy when I was seventeen. I was at a horse sale with some of my friends. When I spotted the handsome rogue with a body truly meant for sinning, his lips curled up with an instant smile. After he looked around the crowd, he must’ve decided it was safe to approach. Once he did, he asked the question that inevitably would either seal (or kill) any kind of future deal.

“Are you eighteen yet?” His raspy voice was laced with thick implications.

“No. Four more months.” I proudly announced.

His eyes drifted over me long enough to assure that the man in front of me was more cowboy than I could handle. “Have you learned how to ride a horse yet?”

“I always knew how to ride a horse, just not one with behavioral problems.”

“How do you feel about cowboys with the same issues?” He asked with a cocksure smile.

I swallowed hard a few times and realized I’d met my match. A player of players was staring back at me waiting for the most inviting of replies and…I didn’t have one.

With an easy grin and an unforgettable wink, he leaned over and whispered. “All right then. Look me up when you turn twenty-one.”

~~~

As an erotic romance author today, I think about that handsome rogue every now and then. He’s a voice inside my head when I’m looking for just the right lines and he’s also a gentle reminder of why so many women love a cowboy.

Most of the young men I met as a girl were exactly like the one I’ve just described. They were perfect gentlemen in public but when provoked, they knew how to quickly remind a woman interested in them that they knew all the right moves to keep her coming back for more. I hope my cowboys do the same for you. Introducing my latest Aspen Mountain Press title--Cowboys for Christmas:

Synopsis:

Julie Kensworth opens her door to more than a blizzard and greets two wayward cowboys. She realizes right away she’s headed straight for the eye of the storm.
Brandon Blake and Quinn Stewart are a long way from home. They’re looking for a warm place to hang their hats while they try to wait out the snow and ice, which continues to gain momentum.

Julie is an author and she’s not just the average writer, she’s one of the most notorious writers in the world. When Quinn and Blake figure out Julie is an erotic romance author, well, needless to say, their minds churn with all sorts of ideas, most of them geared toward how they can heat up the cold winter nights ahead.



Excerpt:





“I don’t know why you’re pouting,” Brandon spat a few minutes later, noticing Quinn’s frown. “She didn’t tell us to hit the road. She just told us to wait out here until she dressed.”

“I guess I was hoping for an explicit expression of gratitude.”

Brandon pointed toward the mantle. “Don’t forget. She probably has a boyfriend.”

“The boyfriend isn’t what I’ve been thinking about. What I’m wondering is why she has so many of those Carla Carrington books.”

Julie strolled into the kitchen like a breath of fresh air. She lit up the place with an easy smile and a refreshing stroke of confidence. “Carla Carrington is my pseudonym.”

“Do huh?” Brandon asked, chin dropping.

“Your pseudonym?” Quinn asked for clarification.

“Yeah,” Julie said. “I’m a writer.”

Brandon felt like something was stuck in his chest. She wasn’t just a writer. She was the best selling, award-winning author of scorching hot books often made into explicit after-dark television movies. He’d never admit the truth, but he’d watched a few of those movies. Carla Carrington’s name had been on the lips of quite a few talk show hosts who openly criticized the demise of morals in today’s world. Carla wrote the kind of books that Brandon wouldn’t have let his daughter read—assuming he had a daughter, which he didn’t. On the other hand, if he had a wife, Carla’s books would’ve been mandatory reading.

“You said you’re a writer.” Brandon cleared his throat. “But Carla Carrington is—”

“I’m Carla,” she interrupted. “I write under a couple of pseudonyms.”

Quinn looked around the small cottage. He was probably thinking the same thing Brandon was. Why did she live in such a small house? Wouldn’t Carla Carrington reside in an oceanfront mansion with a full crew doting on her, bringing her chocolate-covered mints and arranging social events?

The woman behind the world’s most scandalous writing should not have been dressed in hide-tight blue jeans with a low-cut fitted sweater and her hair tossed up in a clumsy ponytail. A woman writing explicit scenes like the one Brandon had read earlier should not have looked like an adorable barely legal girl!

Brandon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six, why?”

“Just curious. That’s all.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Quinn blurted out.

Way to fucking go! Brandon set his jaw. As he watched the color drain from Julie’s cheeks, he shot Quinn a cold stare. “You can quit foaming at the mouth any time now.”

Quinn didn’t say anything. Brandon braced for fighting words, maybe even a good swift kick in the ass.

What the hell! Quinn started this. “Do you have a boyfriend?” Brandon would die right there if she said she had a husband.

“No, I do not.” She marched across the kitchen, opened the pantry and retrieved two jars of her homemade soup, setting the large containers on the small island in the kitchen’s center. “Anyone hungry?”

Brandon grinned, staring at her ass. “Honey, I’m practically starving.”


Thanks again, Melissa! I enjoy visiting your blog!

Destiny Blaine

Dynamic Duo Interview: Robert Appleton and Sloane Taylor

Genre: Science Fiction/Erotica

Publisher: Amber Quill Amber Heat

Buy Link: Claire De Lune

I am so excited, Imaginarians. Here with me are two amazing writers, Robert Appleton and Sloane Taylor, co-authors of Claire De Lune, the newest hit from the Amber Heat imprint at Amber Quill Press.

Rob, you’re in the UK and Sloane, here in the States, how did you connect? What was that initial first contact like?

Rob: We both signed with the same publisher a few years back, and while Sloane was promoting one of her Naughty Ladies of Nice books, I stopped by and suggested we co-write a science fiction entry in the series, just for a laugh. I came up with the title Claire de Lune immediately—French, SF-ish, oh-so exotic. And it stuck. After I read one of her books and saw how explosive that genre could be, I knew I had to pen something a little spicier than my usual output. Heck, it was only erotic, right? I mean we all know any bored housewife can write that stuff (um, not that I wear an apron or anything). Little did I realise how difficult it is to write high quality erotic.

Sloane: It was love at first keystroke.:) We once wrote for the same publisher and connected on a group chat. Rob and his wry sense of humor, which is just as sick as mine, stole my heart. He off-handedly joked we should write a book together. The chat ended and that was that, until three years later when he emailed with an enticing offer to co-author Claire De Lune. Best decision I’ve made in a long time.

Both of you are established in such diverse genres. What was it about the other’s writing that made you decide to co-author a book together? Who approached who?

Sloane: I’d read several of Rob’s books before we ever discussed collaborating. His imagination, world building and quick wit swept me into a genre I’d not read before. When he suggested we work together, I had to agree.

Rob: After I’d finished a fairly mild first draft, I realised I’d fallen short of my initial vision for the project. The mystery more or less worked and I was really pleased with the sci-fi elements, but the Sloane Taylor sparkle, that hot magic permeating the characters, was missing. I’d gotten so wrapped up in the mystery and the male camaraderie that I’d given the female characters short shrift. And no one writes spunky, sexy women like Sloane. So I asked her to jump on board. Luckily, she said yes, and a full freaking year later we got started. :winks:


I’ve been told with writing duos, one person usually takes the lead creatively, the other editorially. Did your partnership break down this way or was it more fifty-fifty?

Rob: Hmm, how can I answer this without sounding whiny and getting a slap, or being an arch chauvinist (and getting a slap)? Sloane got the ball rolling on the editing well before we started adding scenes. We both came up with new sub-plots for her main character, Evelyn Lyons. And from then on, it was pretty much fifty-fifty.

Sloane: Rob’s the creative genius. I just follow behind like all good women should. Excuse me while I vomit.:) Actually, he is a brilliant writer. Plot line, creating new worlds and weaving in suspense is Rob’s forte. Me – I’m the comma queen and browbeat him to follow the rules of writing.

How difficult was it to mesh your distinctive styles into a single cohesive voice? Was there ever a point where either of you wanted to smash the other into tiny unrecognizable bits?

Rob: You see those partial people on our book cover? Well, they’re all that’s physically left of the two writers of this book. As you can see, I came off worst.

Sloane: Haven’t a clue how it meshed, but somehow it just worked. I never felt that way, but I sure bet Rob did! Good thing we live an ocean apart. I’m a real pain in the ass since I’ve turned procrastination into an art form. Groan.

Rob, some of your other stories contain elements of romance, what made you decide that Claire de Lune in particular needed a more erotic take?

It’s weird because I never intended to write any romance at all. It just kind of happened because I love writing women and felt those characters were incomplete without some kind of romantic pursuit. With Claire de Lune, the whole project was inspired by contemporary erotic romance. I really enjoyed that mix of sassy repartee and steamy, character-driven sex in Sloane’s books. But the sensuality more than the sex is what intrigued me. Claire de Lune was always meant to be sensual sci-fi with an exotic/erotic atmosphere.

Sloane, your stories are firmly grounded in the here and now, what was it about this tale that compelled you to venture into unexplored territory? Was it difficult stepping into a such totally unfamiliar genre?

Rob had created strong, diverse characters that came alive on the page. It was easy to fall in love with them. I’m a romantic through and through and had no problem with sci-fi sex. I believe in love and enjoy writing it no matter where in the galaxy the couple may be.:)

Rob, you are a sci fi writer. What is your take on the place of romance and erotica within the genre amongst the more hard core and straight sci fi?

That’s a fabulous question, Melissa, and unfortunately one I don’t have enough space to answer. On the face of it, those genres—sci-fi and romance/erotica—are opposites and incompatible. One is predominantly male, the other female; one tends toward heartless intellectualism, the other toward neurotic female thinking. The readerships are almost proverbially divided. So when you’re meshing the two genres, you have to tone down the extremes. Don’t eliminate the hard science, use it sparingly; don’t have the characters boinking every other page, make those clinches count. It’s an extremely hard balance to find but it can be done.

My personal preference is for science fiction stories with romantic/erotic elements as opposed to romances where the sci-fi is just a backdrop. In my opinion, particularly when the stakes are life or death, characters should think about survival first, boinking second. Unfortunately, that’s not always the case in book of this type.

Sloane, as an erotica writer, what would you say is the biggest misconception that people have regarding this genre?

Too many people misconstrue erotica for porn and it pisses me off. Love and sex are beautiful natural emotions/reactions and as far from porn as the moon to the Earth. Erotica is the expression of love through a sexual act. Porn has nothing to do with love. It depicts acts in a sensational manner to arouse a quick intense emotional reaction.

What surprised you the most about working with each other? How has it impacted your own individual writing?

Rob: I think it’s made my writing more concise, a little crisper off the bat. My natural inclination is toward over-description, and I love laid-back Victorian prose. So having a ruthlessly contemporary style to brush up against really shook my purple prose loose. Of course, I’m writing a Victorian-age steampunk now, so round and round we go…

Sloane: I like sci-fi! Working with Rob is easy and I’m grateful he’s patient. Our experience has taught me to be more careful of details and dig deeper into my characters lives.

Based on your experience with each other, would you collaborate with other authors if approached?

Rob: Any time, Melissa. Send me what you got. :winks: But I’d think twice about working with stinky Sloane, if I were you. She swears like a Tarantino gangster and has a drinking problem.

Sloane: Not a snowball’s chance on the sun. I enjoy working with Rob because he doesn’t push even though I gave him carte blanche to spank me when I screw around. But he has to use the new whips. LOL

What other genres would either of you consider attempting that you have not tried before?

Sloane: I’d love to write a mainstream mystery in first person. I’ve been toying with one for a year and haven’t built up enough courage to plunge in.:)

Rob: I’d love to write a full-on haunted house horror. Immediately, in fact. And I’ve always wanted to write a medieval novel. After sci-fi, history is my big reading passion. I’d also like try my hand at a real-life disaster/survival novel—ordinary people under extraordinary circumstances absolutely fascinate me, especially when the forces of nature are involved.

What’s next for both of you? Are there plans to continue your collaboration any time soon? Will there be a sequel to Claire De Lune?

Sloane: Take it away, Rob.

Rob: Not a sequel, no, but a kinda/sorta prequel featuring our favourite secondary character from CDL—the pageant doctor, Grace Peters. It will be risky and quip-laden and there will be much sci-fi sauciness. After that, we’ll have to consult our horoscopes. I believe we share the same star sign—Sagittarius. Unfortunately, Sloane may have priced me out of the market by then (her 900 number is killing mine).



Who are your major writing influences? Who or what inspired you to start writing?

Sloane: Too many influences to mention, Melissa. It can be the small thing that sets my mind to wandering.:) I’d never considered writing until seven years after the death of my second husband. Days went by and all these images like a silent movie flooded my brain. They drove me crazy until I finally wrote them down just to find some peace. After Beth Anderson, a dear friend and published author, used her infamous two by four those words became my first book Teddi Turns On. Since then life’s been good.:)

Rob: I would have to say the great Victorian speculative/adventure fiction writers inspired and influenced me the most. H.G. Wells, Jules Verne and H. Rider Haggard wrote many of my favourite works of imagination ever. Haggard’s ‘King Solomon’s Mines’ and ‘She’ in particular are biggies. Also, Edgar Rice Burroughs’ ‘John Carter of Mars’ was a huge influence on me. Somewhere inside, my twelve-year-old self is turning zero-g cartwheels celebrating what I get paid to write.


Aside from writing, what are some of you other passions and pursuits? I know Sloane is an avid cook and Rob, you are quite the sportsman.

Rob: I play 5-a-side soccer every week, which is insanely paced, so I mustn’t be as unfit as I sometimes think. Kayaking is a great pastime but our family trips have dried up a bit these last few years. I’m also a big-time movie geek who loves old swashbucklers and 1950’s sci-fi. And anything directed by Oliver Stone.

Sloane: I love to garden in the spring and hate it when the bugs invade. I grow all my own green beans, tomatoes and herbs. Throughout the season I freeze them to use all winter long. It’s a treat to have spaghetti gravy made from our garden goodies in January.

Do you have any favorite indulgences that might surprise your readers?

Sloane: Murder and mayhem. Love them. There’s nothing better than curling up with a good mystery book or TV program late at night.

Rob: holds up his Schwarzengger collection for protection: Okay, okay, so I was first in line to watch ‘You’ve Got Mail’ when it came out. What can I say? I like feel-good rom-coms. I also can’t get enough of sappy supernatural TV show ‘Ghost Whisperer’, but the reason might not be so surprising. Three words: Jennifer Love Hewitt.

What do you hope readers take away from your works?

Rob: Food for thought, a feast for the imagination, and a taste for more.

Sloane: Good question and one that made me think. I want readers to know there is still romance in our universe and it's there for each and every one of us when we least expect it.

Thank you both so much for spending some time here at The Imaginarium. I wish you much success with Claire De Lune. I myself can't wait to have it in my hot little hands.

If you want to know more about these fantastic authors and their work, you can visit their respective sites: Sloane Taylor and Robert Appleton

Birthday Celebration Winners

Christmas is coming just a bit early...For those who participated in my birthday blog giveaway here and at my other posting, the Amber Heat blog, here are the lucky recipients...




Nebular

Brit Blaise

Send me an email at melbwrites@gmail.com with the subject line Birthday Giveaway and tell me what story of mine you would like.If you're not sure, in the sidebar of this blog are links to each story or you can go here to my bio page at Amber Quill Press.

Thank you all so much for your birthday wishes. I had a great day yesterday.

It's My Birthday... Party Time!

Whoo Hoo! It’s my birthday and I am in a par-tay mood. It’s only Wednesday, but I’m not letting that stop me. I’m getting the weekend rolling early and I want all you out there to celebrate with me. I’ve got a couple of recipes for cocktail faves that always put me in a festive mood so you can drink a toast with me. These babies are great for birthday parties, holiday parties and really anytime you want a delicious drink.

I love presents, both giving and receiving, so guess what? I’m going to give away a free download of one of my short stories two lucky celebrants, one from here and one from my publisher’s blog, Amber Heat. Best of all, it’s winners’ choice. If you’re selected, you get to pick which one of my short stories you’d like. You can choose from Michael’s Keeper, Dream On or Love Haight.

The rules are simple, all you have to do is leave a comment (birthday wishes are nicest, of course. *wink,wink*) and I will draw the names of two people. The names of the lucky recipients will be posted at midnight, Central Time tonight both here and at Amber Heat.

My birthday is not the only reason I’m in such a festive mood. Check this out… Maxie Briscoe: Werewolf received an amazing 4 Heart review at The Romance Studio. The reviewer, Michele, says “The sex scenes are intense, violent, unpredictable and creative. The chemistry between Maxie, Noah and Damien is explosive.” Wow! That made my day even more special. You can read the rest of Michele’s awesome review here.

Now, let’s roll out those drinks, shall we?. One of my favorites is a pomegranate martini. Here’s a wicked good recipe from Martini Recipe.net

Pomegranate Martini

Ingredients

1 oz vodka (or citrus vodka, if you have it)
1/2 oz Cointreau orange liqueur
3 oz pomegranate juice*
chopped ice
1/4 teaspoon lemon juice, for garnish
lemon slice, for garnish
sugar, for garnish

Directions

Wet the rim of the cocktail glass with the lemon juice.
Place sugar in a saucer and dip the rim of the cocktail glass into the saucer, to produce a ring of sugar stuck to the lemon juice as a decorative rim around the glass.
Combine all ingredients in a cocktail shaker.
Add ice so that the shaker is about a third full (ice plus ingredients).
Shake for 20 seconds.
Strain into a cocktail glass.
Squeeze a couple of drops from the lemon slice into the glass, then garnish the side of the cocktail glass with the slice of lemon.

Another fave is Emeril’s Poinsettia Cocktail from Foodnetwork.com

Poinsettia Cocktails

Ingredients

1/4 cup vodka
1/4 cup Champagne
1/2 cup cranberry juice
Crushed ice
2 strips orange zest, each about 1/4-inch wide and 2 inches long

Directions

Combine the vodka, Champagne and juice in a large-stemmed red wine glass. Add crushed ice and stir until the mixture is well chilled. Twist the orange strips over the glass, drop them in, and serve.

Oh man, I want to mix these babies right now and start my celebration early. Trust me when I say these are awesome drinks. I also love a good mimosa and anything with tequila. I also love a good beer, something dark and strong. Hey Imaginarians, do you have a fave cocktail or other alcohol concoction you'd love to share with yours truly? I'd love to try 'em.

Thanks for coming out and helping me celebrate today. You all rock!

My New Cover...Check It Out!

Look at this beautiful cover for my new release, Byzantine Provocateur. Isn't it pretty? Trace Edward Zaber, the artist, really captures the essence of my story.



Byzantine will be out on March 6. Stay tuned for more information.

Decorum, please...

As a writer, I love to people watch. To me there is just something fascinating about looking at people as they walk by, adrift in their own world. I wonder where they are going, who they might be meeting...a lover, a child, a friend...perhaps they're a criminal informant, hurrying to meet their handler. Or maybe...I digress. What I mean to say is, that while I love to watch people and speculate about what's going on in their lives, as soon as they start to tell the world about it, it's over. Spell broken.

I'm sitting at the bus stop the other morning, minding my own business, when a young couple with their two small children join me. I start to wonder from the backpacks if they are off on field trip of some sort or maybe to the pediatrician for check ups...my usual habit. Then she opens her mouth. And what comes out had me feeling terribly sorry for those kids and the guy.

Imaginarians, she starts going on about his performance in the bedroom the previous night and how he could not get it up. The thud I heard was the poor fellow's jaw hitting the ground along with my own. Now see, if I had just seen her gesticulating from a distance, I would have imagined some kind of argument, but the fact that I had to hear the actual words in her nasaly voice? Holy hell, I have never prayed so hard for a bus to come. Yes, I thought about walking to the next stop, but with my luck, I would be at the halfway point when the thing would have driven right past me.

I people watch, not people listen. I do not want to know their actual business. Do these people not care that they are polluting the air with their dirty laundry? I guess not. Another incident, I was at the mall, casually watching a guy in a loud suit, wondering who in God's name made that when I hear..."Tanya's motherfucking pregnant, dumb ass." Silence fell faster than Lindsey Lohan's career, all eyes zeroed in on the speaker. My head whipped over my shoulder to see two guys standing across the way, one all dressed like a gangsta rapper, the other in a KFC uniform. As if that verbal grenade weren't enough, they started to argue over who was the father, right there in the River Oaks Mall food court. Oh Tanya, whoever you are, your child is facing an uphill battle considering half it's DNA comes from Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber.

No sense of decorum at all. There must be a short in some people's brains when they get out in public. I've been on the train and been privy to cell phone conversations discussing disease progression, who slept with who, how ugly someone's new girl is, how great someone is at oral sex, etc. The list is just endless.

Dear Santa, please bring me an iPod so I don't have to listen anymore.

New Release: Claire DeLune by Robert Appleton and Sloane Taylor

ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-011-5 (Electronic)
ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-995-8 (Paperback)
Amber Quill Press – Amber Heat

BUY LINK

Yours truly has been brimming over with excitement because two of the most awesome writers out there, Robert Appleton and Sloane Taylor, have combined their writing genius to create one wicked cool story. Claire De Lune is now available and I cannot wait to have this in my hot little hands. I was torn between downloading the e-book right freaking now or exercising some restraint and waiting for the paperback which drops later this month. Well Imaginarians, I have decided to go with restraint. There is nothing better than having the actual paperback book in one 's hands. But for now, I have an awesome little excerpt here to tantalize you. In the meantime, check out both of these incredibly talented writers at their respective sites. Click here to visit sci fi writer Robert Appleton. Visit erotica writer Sloane Taylor's site here.

In the meantime here is that rockin' excerpt I told you about. Enjoy!

BLURB:
You’re invited to the galaxy’s most prestigious beauty pageant. Clothing optional. Romance and danger…fully provided…

Cocky young detectives Gerry Rappeneau and Sebastian Thorpe-Campbell arrive at the premier lunar resort expecting a week of eye candy and long massages. With a half-billion-credit purse up for grabs, this year’s pageant is the focus of a hundred worlds. And beauty isn’t the only thing in the eye of the beholder.

One contestant, Evelyn Lyons, is attacked and her assailant killed. Surely a simple case of a stalker gone mad, as nothing bad ever happens at the Selene contest. So the brochure says.

The closer Gerry gets to Evelyn, the more he is convinced she’s hiding something. His meticulous character sparks with her wild, sassy nature, and they embark on a torrid affair. Their forbidden romance isn’t the only thing set to ignite in Pont de Reves.

Sebastian’s infatuation with demure Claire Villiers, another contestant, threatens to put all four of them in harm’s way.

A deadly trail of corporate conspiracy, monstrous assassins and hot bikini wax is more than anyone bargained for in this incendiary erotic mystery. Get ready for some serious heat on the dark side of the moon.

EXCERPT:
…Evelyn glared across at Van der Sands, her grey eyes metallic and sharp. Busy placing the new drinks order, the banker didn’t notice her.

“He’s a son of a bitch.” Evelyn retrieved a white business card and a ballpoint pen from her purse. She wrote on the back and slid it to Gerry.

He swallowed hard as he read, Clean the bastard out & I’ll sleep with you tonight.

She let her hands fall loose at her side, unmasking her face. Gerry’s first thought was one of easy acquiescence. Whatever she wanted! If this was the start of some kind of saucy foreplay, why the hell not? Then he watched the curious game within the game unfold.

A few slow-burning fireworks started the show. Sly glances between her and Van der Sands; the brunette girl with fleeting yet repeated eye contact; Evelyn whistling a tune. Subtle—but the shared air was definitely combustible. What was going on among the three of them? And what did she have against her old boss?

He slipped the card into his pocket. The drinks arrived and Van der Sands made sure everyone was ready to resume. “Le jeux est fait. Un banco de quatre cent mille.”

The CEO wasn’t messing around. High stakes, just like the previous round. Gerry might have backed off—four hundred thousand was two fifths of his total allowance for the night—but Evelyn’s note and the bizarre charades had already piqued his interest. “Banco,” he announced.

Van der Sands dealt him two quick cards and a lengthy, probing stare. Gerry matched the latter. At first the man had seemed indifferent, almost petty about the game of baccarat. Now there was fiery curiosity in his eyes, as though he needed to know who this blond opponent was and why Gerry was in league with her. He thought of it as dick-measuring by proxy. Neither man knew the other, but they had become tacit rivals by association with the same beautiful woman.

A seven and a two—a natural nine. A great first hand. Gerry tapped his cards, signifying he didn’t want another. Van der Sands would now have to err on the side of risk.

He drew a nine and a five. A score of four. To get close to nine, he had to risk another card.

The croupier flipped an ace. “Cinq a la banque.”

Gerry nudged Evelyn’s arm before arrogantly tossing his cards face up into the center.

“Monsieur Rappeneau wins.” The croupier retrieved the cards and awarded Gerry his chips.

The brunette congratulated him with an approving nod and a silent clap. Her black elbow-length gloves added to her mystique. Evelyn, boasting a mischievous grin, stroked his thigh under the table, edging dangerously close to his dick. His next sip of Mackison competed with a gasp. He covered his mouth. It was all he could do to stop a mouthful of beverage showering the green baize. Evelyn’s hand had strayed into sensitive territory. He didn’t know whether to yank it away or shove it deeper into his crotch.

“Keep it up,” she whispered in his ear. “And that goes for your winnings, too. Tonight, I’m gonna screw your brains out.”

Jesus Christ! His hold on propriety slipped like an eel through soapy rubber gloves. The casino grew close. Stifling. Evelyn grabbed his crotch and massaged the tip of his erection. He gave another gasp. The brunette watched him through the prism of her glass while she sipped her Malibu. The way those sensuous black gloves contrasted with her white arms and shoulders… Oh, God! He glanced down at Evelyn’s breathtaking tits. His hand shaking, he took a large swig of Mackison. It helped. Only for a moment. Evelyn moved in close and placed her hand on his shoulder. She gave him a look so serious and seductive he felt his erotic self tumbling into her cleavage. Somebody…help.

“Un banco de trois cent mille.”

The Australian answered, “Banco.”

Gerry wrenched himself to his feet. He regained the wherewithal to kiss Evelyn’s cheek before stuttering, “Excuse me. Shan’t be a minute,” to the other startled players. Breathing a long, shivery sigh on his way to the restroom, he tripped on a step and almost bulldozed a waitress into her trolley of snacks.

“Good God.” He locked the men’s room door behind him. “She’s an animal. I’m dating a goddamn wild animal…”