50 shades of bilious green....

So, the other day when all the shite hit the fan, like other authors, I sent an email to Noble Romance Publishing – yes Anom, get ready to get your knickers in a knot – basically stating that the attached reversion of rights letter had been sent  certified snail mail to them. To be honest, I didn’t expect anything from them due to their excellence in non-communication to me. Opinion, Anom – it’s all to do with the right to free speech, something you seem to have no concept of even though it’s something most Americans appear to have etched into their DNA as a right. Yes, comment on the blog by all means. I miss you doing that. Anyway, this morning I received an email that said I ‘should expect a response by the middle of this week.’ No, it doesn’t mean it will be a good response or I won’t continue with further action to get my rights back. Other authors have received a similar email missive. I await the next instalment of what is an angst ridden saga which frankly if it was made into a book it would be reviewed as “unbelievable, lacking in substance and considered 50 shades of bilious green. A book to stomp on and then throw against the wall in frustration.” 

Anom and her purse....

So there’s this individual/twerp called ‘Anom’ running around the blogs or posts of people who have written anything about Noble Publishing and the troubles they’re having. She’s a dropkick who has trouble stringing a sentence together and she threatens/predicts/ stamps her feet telling everyone that we all need to be good or we’ll be ‘purse(d)’. Bless her cotton socks I think she means ‘pursued.’ I feel kinda sorry for Anom – possibly she meant to be the quintessential ‘Anon’ but was having another purse moment – that and she was dumb enough to use someone else’s online, long running persona who actually commented on the same blog she did. Oops. 

No really, feel sorry for her because she has stuff all else to do but write dumb arsed comments on blogs. Mine included.  But in saying all that, I welcome you Anom, and your purse, to read, comment and reflect on the Amarinda Blog.  

I don’t second the emotion…

Maybe it’s me…maybe I’m not a team player…maybe I prefer to fight a smart battle with people who are willing to go into war and not sit and emote for hours over something that has happened.  

Being an author means you have to have a tough, rhino-like skin. People are going to hate your books, hate you, hate your voice, hate your website, you may not make the sales you want and publishers can and will screw you over. You may not like it but you have to deal with it not agonize for hours or get messy with information that should not be shared because there are some unscrupulous bastards out there who will use it to their own advantage. Not just your thoughts in your stories are made public. Anything you write – anywhere – any time – becomes public. And trust? Trust no one in author land. That’s rule number one.    

Banding together to accomplish a goal? Great. Messy emotion that gets exploited elsewhere? Not great. 

In essence – as an author - learn to fight your own battles, rely on a few and learn to suck it up when you have to in order to move on with credibility or at least your arse not showing. 

Yoghurt Woman...

So, I went grocery shopping after work. I had been putting it off all week but eventually broke down and did it as I had almost run out of yoghurt. I always have yoghurt. Worlds collide when I don’t. Lucky for the world I avoid that by always having some in the fridge. I guess that makes me a super hero sorta – maybe Yoghurt Woman. Anyway, I did the fruit and veg hunting and gathering and then went to the fresh fish section and stood and waited…and waited…and waited. Other people were waiting and whining...and whining and whining. We waited some more. I then thought bugger it.  I’m a doer not a whiner. I wheeled my trolley off to the front desk and spoke to the store manager. His response? We have hardly any staff. My response? Why do you have the store open? Him – well, people want to buy groceries. Me – you have no staff though. He did admit this was ‘an issue.’ He then stood and looked at me. I stood and looked at him. He flinched first and then said he ‘would go find staff.’ Miraculously staff appeared. Funny about that. See? The power of Yoghurt Woman. 

Those who inspire....

“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.”
― Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 6: Fables and Reflections

Some people are so inspirational that I am in awe of the way they listen to others. They are mentors and teachers. They ask for nothing in return. They make others feel like they can rise above anything. To remind another of their self worth is beautiful. 
That’s the rarest gift.  

“Do one thing everyday that scares you.”
― Eleanor Roosevelt  

Less than Noble...

So, I found out this morning, through various emails, that Jill Noble, the head of Noble Romance Publishing has quit the company. Why? Depends who you talk to. The cut and pasted emails from the Noble Romance authors loop – sent to me via email by ‘Anon’ – I’m not allowed on the loop as I’m naughty and have a habit of asking hard questions - indicated that Jill jumped ship because the owner, who I call the Smoking Man, who Jill mentions in the emails - is the reason for her quitting. Yes, we all thought she was in charge. Hmmm…Now, I tend to think this all sounds like a bad plot for a romance book. It’s not me. It’s him. This is the same woman who promised to pay me and others a gazillion times. Hmmm again.   

Now, many authors have tried to get sense or some notification from those who are left at Noble Romance Publishing but whoever is left is not answering and also not making any effort to pay authors. What this tells me is if you are thinking subbing there give it a miss. If NRP cannot have the professionalism to answer their authors then that indicates big trouble. It also indicates a possible class action by authors.

Me? I emailed the Smoking Man and advised I would be taking back what’s mine if no answer or money by Friday.  

Current thought…

...if I do personal work at my day job then surely they should pay me more because I’m putting in extra effort.

'Perfectly logical to me…  

I chatted to a male friend...

…today about all sorts of stuff over lunch. It’s that sort of relationship. No sex is involved and I can just talk and ask things I wanna know about men and what they think about stuff. Do you know there are actually men out there who are quite ready to answer the dreaded ‘does my arse look big in this outfit’ with a definite yes? Amazing, Grace. Wanna know stuff?  Take away sex and agendas and you can have a damn good talk to a man.

Men….I recommend them…

Crimes against women...

“I’m at the point that if I have to go to jail for my rights, I will do it.”

Brave woman with a lot of guts. Stupid Judge protecting rapists. That's a crime. My total support goes to this 17 year old.

http://www.inquisitr.com/282168/kentucky-girl-may-face-jail-time-after-tweeting-names-of-guilty-rapists/

Just wondering…

Corsets? Sexy or instruments of torture? Are they sexy now because as women we’re not forced to wear them? Or do we secretly like being made to?  Is bare flesh better than lace? Does a man really know or care? Do we dress for men or ourselves? Or are men just grateful to have sex and what is worn or nor worn is irrelevant? Are corsets power dressing? Do we put it out there to drive men crazy? Or, are men just naturally crazy?  

Just wondering…

I try...

Shadows on Stone....Anny Cook....

Shadows on Stone....out now...

When Russet McGinnis and Maxen Pryce take on the responsibility for a late-season archeological dig, their quest for more artifacts is cut short when an early nor'easter forces them to close down the project until the next spring. The flight home takes a sudden ominous turn as they encounter a strange swirling cloud bank that surrounds them despite Max's attempts to avoid it. Lost in the wilderness after their plane crashes, Max and Russet must depend on each other's love and courage to survive.

Their struggle for survival compels them to bare their hidden secrets and acknowledge their feelings for each other. Homesickness and potent irresistible desire draw them closer as they work together to survive abduction, inexplicable attacks on their plane, encounters with shape-shifters, and a wild ride in a goddess-driven tornado until at last they confront their true destiny.

http://www.bookstrand.com/shadows-on-stone

http://www.annycook.com

Fear of Being....released August 1st....

Prologue

‘Spen-cer, Spen-cer, come and play with me, Spen-cer. We’ll have so much fun.’

“No.” Spencer Grace struggled to get away from the hands reaching out to her. It was a dream but it wasn’t. The smell of sulfur and ash choked her nose and made her want to throw up. Dreams didn’t reek of death, nor could they touch her. She knew he was closer to her than he’d ever been.

‘You know you want to be with me. You need me, Spen-cer. I know you like no other.’

“Leave me alone.” Although she couldn’t see him, she shot her hands out to fend him off. Spencer knew in her heart and soul that her very survival was at stake here. Yet the more she struggled the more she started to lose herself. It was like quicksand. Be calm. Don’t let this bastard win. Every day in the last two weeks, since he’d forced himself into her life, he was becoming stronger. I won’t lose myself to him. I can’t.

‘Spen-cer, Spen-cer.’ His voice made a slow hissing sound. She felt a sudden presence beside her in the bed. Her skin crawled like a thousand spiders were nipping at her flesh. She knew she had to face him—to face that which terrified her. I won’t let him see my fear. Spencer swallowed hard to stop the bile rising to her throat as she turned to look at the creature reclined alongside her on the bed, almost like a lover awaiting an invitation. The red man. Before, Spencer had only seen him in her mind. The reality was far worse. He was a man, but not. All his skin had been removed, leaving a red, raw, lean, muscular physique of perfectly formed flesh. It was grotesque to see veins pumping and sinews flexing as his body moved towards hers. His lips held a lecherous smile and his eyes burned with a fever possessed by only the intensely insane.

And dear God—the stench of him. “I will not give in to you.” Spencer rolled away from his grasping hands. She knew if he touched her she’d be gone. How? She wasn’t sure. Spencer just sensed he needed her to be weak and lost and not able to stand up to him. That was his goal. That was what he fed on—her fear meant victory for him.

The red man laughed harshly as if amused at her show of independence. “You will one day and I shall enjoy seeing you a broken woman with no option but to come to me.”

“You do not and will never control me.” Spencer jumped off the bed and forced herself to look into his black eyes. They were as she imagined the pit of hell—fathomless and unforgiving.

“Oh but I will, because you owe me, Spen-cer, and you will pay.”

“I owe you nothing, hell-spawn!” she yelled at him. “Now get the fuck out of my life.”

Skirting it...

A friend today said they had never seen me in a skirt. That made me think about the last time I wore one. Hmmm…October last year. Do you think because life is so bloody busy that we get out of the habit of dressing up or throwing on a skirt because you know we then have to find time to shave our legs, do our toenails etc when it’s so much easy to wear pants? Or is it more of an equality thing? I remember my first job after high school.  I was told all female employees had to wear dresses and panty hoses. No trousers of any kind were allowed. At the time I was 18 and just about to nick off overseas to travel aimlessly for a couple of years and I could not have cared less about the dress rule because I wasn’t going to be in that job for life. It was spare cash only. Now if someone demanded I wear a dress to work I would question it and them and whether they were going back to planet Zork and did they need bus fare.  

So, I’m actually going to invest in some skirts and re-evaluate my legs. Why? Just because a friend mentioned it? Yes and because I’m one of those people who believe in following what the cosmos throws at you. Will I look like the picture above? Only if you've got beer goggles on... 

Exploding heads...

 So, I sat back, after reading the most anal series of emails from an accountant at work and I said to myself oh my god if a stick ever gets lodged that high and hard up my bottom as this twit who is sprouting off so many archaic rules - about what you shouldn’t do and what happens if you do and did you read paragraph 73a clause 12 about following rules, Amarinda,  and don’t do this that or the other thing – particularly the other thing which we all know you just did because it’s wrong, not right, bad, naughty and worlds will collide and it will be all your fault Amarinda -  then I swear I will give away all my Docs and become like a dull, colourless and boring accountant and buy a special chair with a hole in so the stick in my bottom is catered for.

Rules are meant to be twisted and bent and bashed around a bit. How do we change things if we don’t apply sledgehammer to things that need it?

Accountants - except you Jules - can’t work with them, but you can work against them to make heads explode.   On to plan B tomorrow...exploding heads...

Price gouging...

So, I have been taking back the rights to all my books and stories from the mainstream publishers. Why? Because I have learnt enough in the six years I have been doing this writing thing to know that I don’t agree with what they do. So, for me, it’s a case of put up or shut up. So many writers whine about publishers but the vast majority do stuff all about the situation they’re in because they’re scared to move away from the mother ships. Whatever. I’m an Aussie. We’re a little bit different. Our crap factor has a low threshold and we believe we can do anything we choose to do.

Anyway, I got the rights back to Fear of Being as of August 1^st and I was looking at it on the publisher’s page and I was astounded by the price they had on it. No, I’m not a writer who spends time starry-eyed looking at their literary reflections on the publisher’s page and squeeing so I hadn’t really paid any attention to the website. But this is a 40,000 and a bit word story and they were selling it at $5.99. That’s ridiculous. Who in this particular economic climate is going to shell money out for an ebook that essentially all the publisher has to do is bang it out in 6 – 8 formats and then set it up to be downloaded hundreds of times. It’s a rip off.  I absolutely believe 99% of publishers are screwing the book reading public over. While I get that they’re out to make money, seriously charging through the nose for an ebook is ridiculous.  

What will I charge for Fear of Being? I’m going to charge 0.99 cents for the first month and then I reckon $1.49 after that. Is this profitable? Yeah, I’ve seen that through the other stories I have taken back.   

Reading should be an affordable pastime for everyone – not just the rich.

Book cover nongheads...

Now, I do the self publishing thing. I make my own book covers. Some people love them. Some hate them. Some couldn’t give a crap either way and my world turns regardless of opinion. I’ve had some shitty covers made by supposed professional cover artists – you know the patch and paste jobs that they charge the publisher a solid $100 for - and others I have made myself and I like a lot.  The thing with cover art is you can spend as much or as little on it as you like. If you go to somewhere like Fotalia.com – my personal preference - you can buy a heap of credits and the covers cost usually no more than $1.00 and they can be claimed on tax. It’s not rocket science. You then stuff around with it on Gimp or paintbox or whatever program you’re working with until you bang out a cover. 

Recent controversy about various authors using watermarked images they have not legally paid the rights to makes me wonder how smart these authors are. First up a watermark on the hero’s body isn’t sexy.  It’s tacky and it smacks of being an unprofessional nonghead. Added to that it’s not smart or fair or right to use another person’s artwork without legally obtaining the right to it. Authors who do that should, to my mind, accept people who pirate their ebooks for their own gain because it’s essentially the same thing. Taking without permission? Tacky. Classless. Wrong. Thinking you won't get caught? Dumber than dumb.  

So, thinking about doing your own covers? Have a crack at it. Some will fly, some won’t but for god sake have enough brains to buy the rights to use the artwork because ebook land will retaliate and rightly so and crying about people being mean to you isn’t going to save your arse or give you any credibility.  Wise up. No one likes a nonghead.        

Weekend Warrior-ette…

So, I signed up to do Weekend Warrior. It’s a Saturday morning extra to the boot camp I do every week. No, I’m not completely insane. Only partially. The thing is I want to be better, faster, fitter and stronger. To do that you have to put in maximum plus effort and there is pain. A lot. I expect that. I accept that. The crew that are doing Weekend Warrior are interesting. Everyone has a story. A reason. No one is looking to be the body beautiful. Everyone has hang ups. No one gives up. It’s good to be with real people. 

Thinking of doing something similar? Just do it. Yeah – you can. And yeah, it will bloody hurt and you’ll have to force yourself but then when did anything good ever come easy?       

Do not judge me...

Do not judge the way I speak, look, act or dress. Do not assume because I’m a woman I’ll back down. I won’t. Am I older that you? Maybe. Do you think that makes me weak? Well, you’re weak for thinking that and I’ll use that against you. Am I younger than you? Do you think I don’t have life experience that could scare you, make you think twice or make you cry? So you don’t think I’m beautiful? Did you know that no one has to live their life by your standards? Am I too fat or thin or tall or short? Not sure - but I do know I like me and your perceptions are of no value to me. Am I scared of you? No, I’m scared for you if your beliefs are so rigid and unformed that you refuse to see beyond them.

Do not judge me for you will be wrong and I’ll still be me and I still won’t give a crap about what you think. Have a nice day. 

So I was bad today…

  …and I came back from lunch really, really late but in my defense, I was having lunch with a friend so that negates any onus on me to feel bad about wasting company time. No really, it’s the Amarinda Amendment 666. Look it up under United Nations>equality>friendship>late lunchabsolution. Would I lie?

changeing "deviant" behavior -- 50s-60s

Poor, sorry arsed Barbara. If only she could match her sweater and skirt like snotty Helen...

Pumpkin heads....

So I walked into the office this morning to be told that everyone is cooking something made of pumpkin and bringing it into the office. I’d just come from boot camp where I'd had my arse kicked, after the night before having my arse kicked at boot camp. Arse kicking makes me less receptive to pumpkinhead suggestion. These are all blokes. Blind Freddie can see they're just wanting food to be cooked for them and despite my bootcamp be-draggled arse ( yes, Jill Noble, that's not a word, get over it) feeding them is way, way, way, way, way, way x 567 ways far down on my agenda of things  to do. I said - 'Fine, go ahead and cook.' This was the wrong answer apparently. Strangely enough I specialize in wrong things to say when I think people are stupid. 

Eclipsing...

So, I had this brilliant idea that I would spend my birthday on a tropical island off the coast of Cairns basically because I could, it would get me out of work and I convinced myself I was worth the ferry trip over and a night in a cabin on the beach. Great idea right? Snorkelling, feeding fish, swimming and basically doing stuff all. So I went to book it on line. Guess what? That bloody Solar Eclipse is on at the same time in November and Cairns and Far North Queensland is the best place to be to experience it. Apparently, my birthday is second best to a cosmic occurrence. Puts me in my place don’t it?  

Writers beware....

Email from Jill Noble, Noble Romance Publishing, July 2nd...

"I have to go through and do some recalculating and figure out where we are. As soon as I deal with this week's releases, I'm going to handle this for you. I'm not ignoring you; I'm busy and I have other priorities. Once I sort everything out, I'll send you a statement as well as make certain you receive any monies owed. If you're using PayPal for royalty payments, you'll have whatever NRP owes you by the end of the week. If you've elected to receive a check, it'll go out in the mail before Friday."

Where's the money Jill? While I understand, from your authors, you like to be uncontactable, it's a professional business ethics to actually respond and honour what you say.

Writers? Beware...

Aarrgghh….

…blog tours. I don’t know about you but when I read someone’s blog I want to read their blog about them – their thoughts, books, opinions, life, grievances, loves and hates. I don’t want to read endless pages of authors I have never heard of telling me what their star signs are and debating if they are a panster or a plotter. No, not sexual terms. They’re terms some writers use to describe whether they fly by the seat of their pants and make a story up as they go along or if they are cautious and think out every last detail. All a bit precious really. You write. Don’t over-analyse it.

 

Where was I? Blog tours. From what I can work out an online promo company will sign authors up, undoubtedly charging them for the privilege, to have their books plastered on multiple blog pages across blogland. In some ways it’s a good lurk for those promo companies because they’re getting paid for doing very little as the blog owner, unless they’ve handed over their password – bad move = loss of control - has to do all the work.  Then blogs are inundated by page after page of writers over-analysing themselves, their books, their characters and whether their 'muse' told them to write the ending where Rex discovers he loves Lex, the bad guy with a heart of gold and imposing sneer but who really just wants love, a puppy dog and a good shagging.

Yes, get your book out there by all means but do you want to see it sitting in the midst of a continuous rolling agenda of other books on a blog? How do you know that blog has readership? How do you know your words will be read and how do you know readers won’t just go blank, as I do, scrolling through a sea of multiple author words essentially saying the same thing over and over and over? And if you’re paying for this privilege? How’s that working for you?  

Ta-may-toe…ta-mar-toe…

So, this story will be releasing shortly. Interesting thing - the minute I shoved the cover on facebook I got a heap of emails telling me it’s ‘accidentally’ not ‘accidently’. Okay. So then I mentioned the spelling thing on facebook and I got a heap more emails either saying fix it to 'accidentally' as anything else is wrong, wrong, wrong and you’ll go to author hell or don’t change a thing as that’s perfectly acceptable and to hell what anyone else thinks.

Right. I had a look on the internet and followed a heated thread about the whole accidently/accidentally drama that I never knew was a drama until now. Some people were terribly passionate about it to the point I suspect they were frothing at the mouth. Others on the thread were more inclined to believe language was ever changing and no one was wrong or right. I think they were channelling my Linguistics/Evolution of Language professor from Uni.  

When I first starting out in this writing gig I was told all spelling had to be in American. Why? Two schools of thought – one – ‘because we say so and shut up’ and two - Americans were taught to spell that way. Yeah? And? Are you saying Americans won’t read books without yankee spelling?  Sounds far-fetched to me.       

All this makes me wonder that if we put all this passion into the accidently/accidentally debate what could we do about war and poverty and human rights with the same zeal? Or is it simpler to pontificate on ‘tly’ or ‘tally’ because real life issues are too hard. 

What am I going to do? I reckon whatever I bloody like.  

Cellulite rebounds...

When I was a kid I always wanted to be beautiful and thin. As I grew up I realized neither of those were going to apply and I shrugged my shoulders and went ‘meh’. Today, at boot camp, I was doing wall climbs. I hate wall climbs. Why? Because they’re hard. I’m not going to say I love the challenge and it makes me a better person because wall climbs don’t and I’m not into all that pyscho-new-age bullshit about finding yourself through pain. Puh-lease.The thing is I fell into the sand from the wall. No, I didn’t hurt myself because firstly I'm invincible but more importantly I landed on my arse. Now the point to my story is this – yes - exercise is good. Do it. Benefit from it but if I did not have a fat arse I would have been in pain on falling. So, do not lament over your curves or what you think you lack or what you think you should look like. You will always make up for it somewhere else and in this case a fat arse saved me. Spare a thought for the skinny Minnies who have no fat. When women with curves we fall, we rebound.  We rule.

As I always say, that’s what cellulite is for.

How lucky are we....

Video clips like this remind me how lucky we are as women and how much we forget that and the struggle of other women. We can go to the mall and we can wear nail polish without being in fear or having to justify who we are as human beings.

I don't know...is America setting an example for the entire world at the moment when it comes to women's right? I don't think so.

Infinite corridors of time...

 Whatever happened to this pair?  Are they still stuck in the infinite corridors of time?

And did those people stuck in the Land of the Giants ever escape?

I feel bad because I forgot all about them...

Takes all kinds don't it?

Message flagged

Tuesday, 3 July 2012 11:01 AM

Dr. Kold_Kadavr_flatliner, M.D. has left a new comment on your post "Never Ever...out now...":

Grrr. Git some followers, girl.

**********************************

I'm constantly amazed in the stats for the blog. In many ways I have no idea why people read it though I'm grateful they do. As for this dude? I think if you take out every fifth letter this message may make sense...or not...

Grrr? Git? Girl? It takes all kinds.

Good post...read and learn...

http://www.annycook.blogspot.com.au/2012/07/chasing-tails.html

No ones owes you a living

A domestic goddess…

…that’s what I am. I channelled the goddess inside me and cooked a spinach pie after work…well, technically a spinach cake because I didn’t have a pie plate into which I threw assorted and sundry, random ingredients. I only had a cake pan – which in itself is odd because I never cook cakes. I’m not sure how a cake pan found its way into my home. I'm thinking it's almost like a Twilight Zone moment - you know, the woman comes home from work and there's an odd cake pan in her kitchen. She thinks nothing of it until the cake pan is in her bed trying to strangle her. Okay, maybe not. But the thing is, murderous cake pans aside, I made and cooked something. Freaking amazing - not that I can’t cook because I can. I just find it unnatural and wrong and generally ooky. I often microwave and I most definitely peel back the lids off a lot of yoghurt tubs but cooking? Not so much unless it’s toast. Will I continue this cooking madness?  I don’t reckon so. It’s frigging unnatural.  

Watch out for sudden, random cake pans...this could be the start of something...

New Release....Swerve...

The Blurb...

Mary Dalton is an average woman, working in an average job. When her workplace is taken over by a large company, Mary knows her days of employment there are numbered. When she is called on to pick up the CEO of the company who has taken them over, she can’t find him. Simon Mayhew is a no show. However another man crosses her pass. His name is Swerve.  

Swerve is out to catch a Time Lord who is hell bent on greed and destruction.  As for Simon Mayhew? He knows all about Mary. It’s one of the reasons he’s in town. The lady is his soul mate. Mary doesn’t know it yet but her life is about to change forever.

The Excerpt...

“Jim, I’m going to—” Swerve stiffened suddenly and nearly dropped the phone.  It was like a bolt of lightning had charged up his spine and set his whole being alight. He closed his eyes and savored the rush. It was her. He could feel it. “I have to go. Yeah man, I’ll call you back when I’ve had more time to think about it.” He smiled. “Come on, Jim, me do something stupid?”  Swerve was not surprised by his colleague’s words. He had done some rash things in the past. But that was then. Now, he had the future to deal with and it was walking towards him on size eight Doc Martens. “Talk to the others and let me know what they think.” Swerve snapped off the phone and turned to face the woman he knew was walking towards him unaware that they were each going to change the other’s life.

He smiled as he watched Mary Dalton move with a purposefulness he saw in few people. He suspected if anyone got in her way she would have coolly told them to get out of it. He knew all about Mary and what he knew he liked. A lot. From the top of her mid brown hair to the non-office approved Doc Marten boots that stopped her boring blue plaid work shirt and navy pants from looking too frumpy, she was the woman he wanted. “I cannot wait to get to know her better.” His gaze roamed her face taking in the thin sheen of sweat on her upper lip and the clever brown eyes that he suspected saw everything but revealed little. He liked that in a woman. Unraveling a mystery was fun. And this one? If the keenness of her mind matched the enticing curves of her voluptuous body, Swerve knew he would never let this woman go. It would be beyond his will to do so.

He waited until she was level with him and smiled. Her eyes narrowed then opened wide as if she was remembering something, He felt her gaze on his hair and shoulders. Yeah. She remembers me.

“Hey, beautiful lady. I’m a wayward traveler on the crooked path of life and I’m looking for a woman to share my riches with me.” His airhead, dopey sounding alter-ego came naturally to his lips. He used that to disarm and confuse people. It was better than a cloak and it threw people off the real reason he was with them.   

She stopped and looked at him coolly. “Bollocks.”

Yeah, Socia was right. This one is mine.

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-swerve-857451-340.html