Monday, 26 May 2008

Arse dragging day…

An Unbreakableadult - moment…released 30th May through Ellora’s Cave

“Harder…I need more.”
“Sugar I am going to make you scream your lungs out as you come.”
“Oh yes,” India Blake moaned as she wrapped her legs tighter around the man’s waist. His cock was lodged high and firm inside her. It was exactly what she needed. Her three-speed, power-thrust, ruby-red Rabbit vibrator was good but it was not the real thing. She needed the heat and power of a solid human cock. Nothing beat that. It had been so long since she had ever felt this primed to be taken. The force of his thrusts made her body bounce up and down on the hood of the car she sat on. She could feel herself sliding back and forth in her own juices.

I put in a cover request for Male Me. It’s a ménage that will be released through Resplendence Publishing. What did I ask for? I said ‘go wild’. I don’t agonize over covers or ask for the impossible. I figure cover artists know better than me what sells. So, I can hardly wait for the cover to land in my inbox.

It's all good…this is a phrase that annoys me. Have you heard it? Of course you have. It’s generally said by people at a point when nothing is all good and generally everything is falling to crap. I assume people say it to keep themselves sounding optimistic but to me it always comes out as sounding pathetic. Example – house burnt down, leg broken running to flee the flames and the rescued cat in the person’s arms has gouged the person’s face in its panic. But it’s all good. Huh? How can it possibly be? You’ve lost your job but it’s all good. What? Your lover has left you for the trollop down the road – but it’s all good. Seriously? Look, I’m all for being stoic and optimistic but to me this is such a pathetic phrase. How is it all good? Please explain...

Dragged myself into work today and I mean dragged. You know those mornings where you can barely throw clothes on and the ones you do, you’re convinced they look crap on you but you don’t care enough because it’s only work and it’s not like anyone is going to see you that you care about and even if they did they would know better than to say you look like crap. Correct - its Monday…pukeable, pukeable Monday….abandon all hope…until Friday, that is…

KJ, a reader, asked me why didn’t I put an excerpt from Tantalizing Tilly, releasing January through Ellora’s Cave, on the blog when I showed the cover off….hmmm…not sure, I suspect I was having a dizzying spell or something. Thanks for asking KJ – here it is….and it’s very, very tame… I thought I should after the Unbreakable one.

Tantalizing Tilly...the tame excerpt...

Tilly Moor was pleased with her efforts so far. She was pretty sure the target had no idea she was trailing him. But then, nor should he. She had been doing this job for many years now and she believed she was damn good at what she did. Hiding in plain sight was an art. Tilly dipped her sunglasses down her nose and watched him as he turned down Eighth Avenue.
“Yep, that’s where I thought he would go,” she muttered to herself as she waited a moment before following. She did not want to follow him but she had no other choice. Tilly had a problem to sort out and she was not one to shy away from unpleasant things. As she put one of her Doc Marten boot shod feet down on to the metal grate set in the pavement, she felt it tilt dangerously beneath her. She looked down in horror.
“Oh shit!” Tilly yelped in panic when it gave way completely beneath her. She plummeted helplessly downward, knowing the landing was going to be painful and yet there was no way she could stop it happening or prepare herself for the fall. She closed her eyes and hoped for the best.
The best was she landed in the outstretched arms of a man. The worst, she had no idea who he was or what he was doing standing in an underground sewer tunnel in the middle of Brisbane city. Even in her less than sane world, that was not normal.
“Hi,” said the tall, blond man. He grinned at her widely.
“Hi?” Tilly struggled in his arms as she tried to free herself. “Who the fuck are you?” She turned her head and glared at him as she tried to break the hold he had on her. The arms that held her were like steel.
“I was just passing by,” he murmured pleasantly as he held her against his chest.
And what a chest it was. Tilly could feel the rock-hard pecs against the side of her breast. She was disgusted to find herself getting all girly and giddy at the firm, warm flesh pressed against hers.
Get a grip, woman. He’s a weirdo standing in a sewer.
“And you just happened to be standing in an underground sewer?” She slapped at the arms that held her tight. “Let me go.” It was weird being suspended in the air like this. Tilly had no control at all and she didn’t like it one bit. Added to that she was amazed he was holding her not inconsequential weight without any effort at all. She had heard that crazy people did sometimes have supernatural strength. I always attract the nutcases. Why me?
“I saw you falling.”
“So you immediately stretched out your arms to catch me?” She looked in the vivid blue eyes and saw amusement. How dare he be amused by this?
“Lucky huh?”
“Bullshit.” She smacked his chest and wriggled to free herself. “Put me down.”
“I like holding you.”
The way he said it in a deep, husky voice made Tilly suddenly hot all over.
“Put me down before I poke you in the eyes.” She held her fingers up threateningly.
The man shrugged and gently placed her feet on the ground.
“As you wish, cariad.” He set her down carefully but kept his hands on her shoulders.
Cariad? Tilly looked up at him. Whoa. He was much taller than the average man and he appeared to be solid muscle under the black knit t-shirt and well-faded jeans. His dark blond hair could be best described as shaggy but neat and the plain polished metal stud in his ear gave him a rakish look of battered elegance. He smiled at her as if amused by her perusal. It was an awfully nice smile and a delicious looking mouth. It had the full bottom lip that she found sexy in a man—if she was interested and she wasn’t. Tilly dragged her eyes from him and looked around for a way out. Be proactive and find a solution and not reactive and panting at the hot guy. The hot guy in question suddenly pulled Tilly to him.
“Hey, back off, mate,” Tilly snapped in anger and shock. The shock was due to the fact that the heat from the body plastered tightly against hers was seeping into Tilly’s senses and her sex-starved hormones were going crazy with delight. She pushed her hands against his chest in an effort to stop feeling stuff she did not want to feel.
“Shh,” he dropped his head and whispered again her ear.
Oh boy. The hot breath skittered teasingly over her skin. Tilly felt an instant tightening response between her legs.

…and, as they say, stuff happens…
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?


Sandra Cox said...

Your Monday is almost over. Another day closer to Friday.

barbara huffert said...

Hm, what a way to start my Monday, with your excerpts. Short week here, due to Memorial Day but somehow they always seem so much longer.

Mona Risk said...

Hi Amarinda, I came to your blog in great need for a smile and a boost of good humor. But you are too serious today.

I should be able to relax today. My computer is up and running. DH did a great job, hard work for a week. Copying all my files from the back disc, to a flash drive, to the laptop and back to the original computer. In the process I got mixed up and overwritten new files with old ones. Grrr....
But I'm finally settled back at my desk, my fat ass in my usual chair, and typing on my old keyboard. I guess I don't like change.

Anny Cook said...

Soooo looking forward to Unbreakable. Yummy. And Tilly--well Tilly is too far off! January???

Happy Monday!

Jacquéline_Roth said...

The phrase that bugs me is "my bad." I look at people who use it and say, "Yes, I know it was your bad. That's why I'm directing my comments about it to you. Instead of just acknowledging culpability could we have a little regret?"

Ashley Ladd said...

Congrats again. You're a writing machine. How do you write so much and work a full time job? I thought I wrote a lot, but you beat me by a lot.