Synchronicity…

I was on my morning walk thinking about how I needed to get one last box to fit my microwave in for the move on Friday. As I pondered this I rounded a corner and there before me was a pile of boxes on the sidewalk. I think Mick summed it up best…

You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need

~ The Rolling Stones ~

Thief is out now. Click here to take a squiz - Thief of Mine

Amarinda Jones
Penn Halligan
www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

International Women's Day....

Its International Women’s Day – no, I’m not going to get all rad fem and burn a bra and denounce men. I like men and hydraulic support is a must. International Woman’s Day is about equality. Think back to the Suffragettes who campaigned for the right to vote. Think of all the women you know who have changed the world for the better and not just because they are famous. There are still so many things that need to be changed – the barbarity of female genital mutilation, women in some countries who are punished, not their rapists, for being attacked, women who have no rights and are but chattels to their husbands and women who have no access to education, the law or proper medicine. Want to know more? Check out http://www.internationalwomensday.com/about.asp

Instead of me prattling on as usual, I asked some strong women I know to post some positive excerpts about strong women in control. Read, enjoy and click on the links to buy.

Measure of Healing – Jacqueline Roth

“What?!” Alejandro erupted. “Are you crazy, lady?” His voice roared out of him and echoed through the room, popping hard against her eardrums. The sound brought his Mama to the doorway, eyes filled with anxiety. She’d not heard Alejandro raise his voice in more years than most of the people in this house had been alive.
“Mr. Ramirez,” Brie started to explain.
“Someone he doesn’t know is going to take a traumatized child a thousand miles from home to someplace he doesn’t know?” He shook his head. “No way. Not happening. Just in case you don’t get it, lady, that kid is terrified. He’s half starved and getting weaker every hour.” Alejandro ran his hand through his hair pushing it back. “You need to leave. Just get out, I don’t know what I was thinking. A Wolf and a human. Yeah, that’s gonna be a lot of help.”
“You need to stop talking and listen,” the voice that snarled out of the young woman snapped his head back in surprise. “In case you don’t get it, that boy is getting weaker by the hour under your care. You have no idea how to handle something like this and you can’t bully your way through it.” She drew a deep breath and she stayed seated. She’d learned long ago that if you couldn’t physically intimidate, your best bet was to make the other person’s physical posturing look foolish. Brie calmed herself and continued. “I have no intention of making things worse for the child but one thing is certain, if we don’t do something we end up doing exactly that. If he doesn’t start eating regularly soon, we’ll have to sedate him and feed him intravenously or he will die.”
http://www.cerridwenpress.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419912634

Curses – Cindy Spencer Pape

“I don’t like you, Sean.” Mel kept her voice surprisingly level. She tapped the pipe wrench against the palm of her hand. “And I really don’t like threats. Now whether you like it or not, this is still my property, and it’s going to remain that way. Nobody is putting up a four-story hotel and a golf course on MacRae land.”
He’d backed her into a corner of the kitchen area, but he hesitated when she lifted the wrench.
“Now.” She poked him with the wrench, pushing him backward, toward the door. “Get your fancy butt into your fancy SUV, and get the hell off my land.” She gave him the nastiest grin she could manage. “Then go tell your daddy to back the hell off. Remind him just who he’s been threatening. You really don’t want to piss me off, do you Sean?”
Sudden comprehension dawned on his sculpted features, and he backed up all the way to the door, then took one hasty step out over the threshold, but he kept his sneer in place and managed a rude little snort. “Fairy tales, Melissa. Nobody with half a brain really believes you have any magical powers.”
“But then, nobody ever accused you of having half a brain, did they Sean? Just tell your father that if either of you ever wants to have sex again in this lifetime, you’d better leave me and my property alone.” She walked forward to stand in the doorway, then leaned against the sturdy pine trim for support. She was shaking in her boots, but she couldn’t let him see it. What was the use of being called the town witch if you couldn’t use the occasional threat to defend yourself? “Because if you keep harassing me, there won’t be enough Viagra on the planet to help either of you get it up.”
http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=602&zenid=80060d1da8ddfcbbfca5f4c122de68b1

To Love a Hero - Mona Risk

It's all settled, General." She placed her hand on his arm in a soothing gesture. "I know it's difficult for the Major General of Belarus to ask for help from a woman." With male chauvinism ingrained in his culture, Sergei had probably never worked with a woman as an equal. Cecile hitched her chin to hide her disappointment.
"Oh Cecile, you are not any woman. You are the Program Manager who brought hope back to two million Belarussians." A devastating smile replaced his bitter expression and banished the business conversation. He stepped closer and added, "A generous and beautiful woman."
His deep blue eyes glittered with unbearable intensity. She breathed in the scent of his aftershave and felt almost dizzy with need. A deep quiver slithered to her stomach. Her skin heated. His voice, his touch, his smell created a sensual ambiance that sent her world into a tailspin.Outside the window, snowflakes twirled in a happy dance. Cecile wished she could walk out and cool off in the snow before she totally combusted. For the life of her, she couldn't move away.
"Once the project starts, it will last for a few months," Sergei reminded her.
She nodded blankly. "Yes, I know."
"Will anyone miss you there, in Boston?" He stilled, fixing her with a strange look.
"Maybe the chemists, if they have problems."
"No, I mean…" He rubbed a finger over her hand. "You are not wearing a ring. You are not married?"
"I broke my engagement three months ago."
"You gave him back his ring?"She glanced at her bare hand and tried not to think of the horrible day Rob had stolen her promotion."Not exactly. I dropped it in the flask of nitric acid sitting on the laboratory bench."
Sergei burst out laughing. "In the acid? Hmm…excuse me. It is inappropriate on my part." He cleared his throat and stared at her with obvious interest.
http://www.cerridwenpress.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419913686

Traveller's Refuge – Anny Cook

Llyon sent Hawke to find Wrenna. She came running, clay splattered all over the smock covering her meerlim. Llyon peeled her out of the smock and hoisted her onto the swinging bed with Trav and Dance. As soon as she was close enough, she wrapped her arms around Trav and Dance let go and slid off the bed.
She rocked with him while she shifted around until she was in his lap. Then wrapping her legs around him, she held him and kissed him until he quit shaking. "Shh. Its okay, Trav." While they sat rocking on the bed, Dance directed the sorting of the stuff.
"I'm crazy!" Traveller declared angrily. "I can't bond with you, Wrenna! Who knows what crazy thing I might do to you or our children?"
She hugged him harder and shook her head. "You're not getting away from me that easily, Trav. You're my man. The father of my children. My mate. I won't let you go."
"Don't you understand? I don't even remember packing this stuff!" He shook her gently. "What else have I done?"
"Whatever else you've done doesn't matter, Trav. It's finished. Our lives start from now on."
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419910593


Thief of Mine - by the Jones girl

“Why am I sick?” Stella answered back into the phone. Honest to God her manager was anal. It was seven twenty in the morning. The fact that she was doing the right thing calling in, allowing plenty of time for her manager to run around like a wet hen looking for a replacement for her, should be enough. Why did he have to demand an explanation? Sick was sick, it needed no further discussion. How hard could it be for someone else to do her job? It was not like you had to be a genius to file, photocopy and maintain spreadsheets all day. “I prefer not to discuss it over the phone.” Wanker. As he continued dribbling on with the whiny questions, Stella decided she had listened to him long enough. “Fine. I had wild passionate sex with a thief and it was so damn good that I can barely walk. Is that a good enough reason? If I’m not having earth shattering sex with the thief again tomorrow then I’ll be in.” She hung the phone up. Stella looked up to see Kit’s amused gaze her. “I hate that frigging job and now I have a reason to leave.”
“Before you get fired.” Kit had never heard any one use sex as an excuse. It was certainly different. But then, so was Stella Rowallan.
“Something like that.” Stella knew there was every likelihood that she was going get the sack but she would cross that bridge and blow it up behind her if and when that happened.
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419911064

See? There are plenty of good books out there to buy.

Remember to take a squiz at www.annycook.blogspot.com and www.kkirch.blogspot.com to see what mischief Anny and Kelly are up to. I'll be back tomorrow with the usual amazingness of nothing to share with you

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Slow Sunday….

So, I wish had something exciting to tell you but it’s been a slow old Sunday in the burbs of Brizzie. The highlight was finding my old Promptel (code name for crap phone company) 10 year, long service, framed certificate shoved under a box when I was having a manic chuck-out-useless-stuff moment. I find these manic chuck out phases very cathartic because everything that I have not used in the last year or so gets sent off to goodwill, so someone else will buy it and then not use it themselves for a year. Anyway, I looked at the certificate and thought why have I kept this? There is also a really ugly pendant with my name engraved on it that went with the certificate but Murphy, my big, snail riding cement garden gnome has that around his neck. I think it makes him look jaunty. He can carry off the ugliness of the pendant. So, the certificate – why did I keep it? Was it pride in knowing that the company thought enough of me to give me the certificate and the pendant? Yeah, right. Was it because it reminds me of the crap times endured there? No, one moves on. Was it the really nice frame it was in? Bingo. Did I hang it up on the wall
feeling all nostalgic? No Idon’t even hang my Bachelor of Arts degree up on the wall because it’s just bit of paper. When I set out to do that degree many moons ago I thought it would be important. It’s not – not to me. Yes, education is always worthwhile but in my opinion all the fancy-arsed degrees in the world don’t make you any better than anyone else.

I have to write a synopsis after I finish this blog. Why? Well the good news is I got offered a contract from my editor for Tantalizing Tilly. Bad news is I have to sit down and summarize the highlights of the book. Yeah, maybe it doesn’t sound hard but many writers have trouble putting the essence of the book into a short, encapsulated form. I’ll be honest, I suck at it. I can write 50,000 words but a synopsis requires much more effort. Not only to you have to make it brief, to the point and make it understandable, you have to make sure there are no typos in it. I am the queen of typos. My mind works faster than my fingers and the two have trouble keeping it together. I once had a typing instructor say that I
had a really ‘ugly typing style.’ This wounded me deeply – not. Like I gave a rats if I type ‘ugly.’ The point is it gets done. I emailed my editor and promised the synopsis will be typo free when she receives it. Possibly that email lacked credibility as there was a nice big typo in it. Oh dear…I swear on a wine bottle it will be typo free.

Today, I realized I had not combed my hair in three days. I have a tendency when I am in a rush to go somewhere or do something to scrape my shoulder length up into a half arsed knot thing on my head. It actually looks pretty good as it has that untamed, wild look about it. Only problem is it gets as knotty as hell and I curse myself for being such a slack arse and yet I’ll continue to do it because I can. So tell me, what things to you skip doing when you’re in a rush or are you all too neat and tidy?





All the devoted Aussie Armitage Army people know Robin Hood is on tonight at 7:30pm on the ABC in OZ. I have put a picture of Richard Armitage on for the troops. I speak to no one during this period as I will be ogling Sir Guy. Ring me and one of my Grandma Elsie’s Irish curses will spring forth from my lips and it will not be my fault if you turn into a pumpkin. Most people understand this potential curse thing and wait until 8:30 to ring. On the whole most people who know me are very well trained. It’s taken me years to get them to that stage.

My Last Dark Day – Barbara Huffert

I am not a big fan of submissive type books. I generally want to slap the hero for the macho crap he is going on with and tell the heroine to wake up to herself. That’s just my personality, so although I did want to slap the hero in My Last Dark Day, I actually found the story impressive. Why? It’s a very deeply emotional and complex book on so many levels. No, I’m not going to tell you why because you should go and buy this book and find out yourself. All I will say is I went from wondering what the hell was wrong with the heroine to liking her because of and despite her flaws. Well done B. Click on the cover to buy.

Author and honorary Aussie Sandra Cox – I am teaching her to speak the lingo - has a great new contest http://sandracox.blogspot.com/ - check it out and enter to win a great prize.

Anny is talking about how dragons have difficulty buying condoms to fit on www.annycook.blogspot.com while Kelly is discussing either man’s inhumanity to man or how to balance a pen on her nose on www.kkirch.blogspot.com

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

OMG! We have no condom!

I had just finished writing the best romantic sex scene I had ever written and it suddenly occurred to me – the hero did not have on a condom. Bugger. I had to then go back and re-read what I had just written and work out where I could slide a condom into the action. Most annoying yet it is necessary when it comes to writing first time sex for characters. It’s hard enough trying to work out where hands and legs should be let alone getting a piece of rubber into the action. No, I’m not going to get all preachy about safe sex, suffice to say, you’re risking much not using a condom with a new lover. But that’s your choice.

There is always great debate in the romance writing world about the need to write condoms into the action. I don’t have a problem with it as realistically condoms, penises and sex just are what they are. Until the characters are in a committed relationship – sex is not on until it’s on. I think Julia Roberts'

character in Pretty Woman summed it up when she said. “I’m a safety girl.” But various authors have various ways of getting out of using them on their characters. Some set their stories in futuristic worlds whilst others have their characters live in the realms of fantasy where disease and unwanted pregnancies are not an issue. One author I know sets her books in the 1980’s where the pill was apparently enough to stop anything major happening to her characters. While I respect her writing, I can’t agree with that. I travelled a lot overseas in the 80’s and AIDS was a huge concern then as it is now.

I did once unintentionally embarrass a man dreadfully when I was working in London in Superdrug (Supermarket chain). I was called to give a price check but I could not see what the other staff member was holding up at the other end of the store so I yelled out –

A - “What is it?”
She yelled back “Durex”. The man went red.
A- I yelled back “Oh condoms, what size?” The man scarpered from the store. Oh dear. No sex that night for him I suspect.

Anyway, to each their own. Put it on, don’t put it on. Write it in or not. I totally understand why Publishers want to see it written in. They, along with the author, have a responsibility to present a book that reflects issues that affect society even if it is a fictitious romance. I also understand the argument that fiction is just that. It’s an escape and the rules of the normal world do not necessarily apply. I’m not sure what a reader thinks but I would like to know.

So, I wrote the condom in. I like to try and make it a team event with the hero and heroine getting that pesky bit of latex on and whatever interesting things develop from all that touching, tugging and rolling. It’s better to write it in now than have my diligent editor say “Where’s the condom, Amarinda?” I am a trial to the woman I know. If it’s not condoms and Aussie slang then its head banging – no, that has nothing to do with condoms per se.

Speaking of condoms…Thief of Mine excerpt – **Be warned – sexual content may offend.

Stella smiled wickedly at both men. It was kind of funny that they wanted her all hot, naked and depraved as long as she was comfortable.
“Condom.” Stella held her hand out to Kit. She wanted to be fucked now.
Kit felt around in his pocket and swore.
“Frig! I don’t have one.”
“I do man!” The cleaner reaching into his bulging pants and pulled out a small foil packet and handed to Stella.
Stella leaned in and kissed the man’s cheek. The man groaned at such a simple action. He grabbed his crotch in response. Stella smiled at his reaction. He may be making the rules but he was just a man who could easily be brought to his knees by the thought of sex. She opened the packet and removed the condom.
“It’s black.” And wickedly ribbed, not that Kit needed any extra help but those ribs looked awfully thick and stimulating. She turned to the man “You’re not black.” What was the point of a black condom if you were white? She looked down at Kit’s tumescent cock. It would be interesting it seeing it all black though. Maybe there was a point after all. And those ribs…

“The ladies like ’em black.”
Stella didn’t want to imagine him and the “ladies”. She just wanted Kit inside her, black, white or brindle. She grabbed his cock and rolled on the ribbed condom. Oh my. There was something to be said about black and it wasn’t always slimming.

Today's quote - Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere
--Helen Gurley Brown

On that naughty note, please check out the pure of heart Anny and Kelly on www.annycook.blogspot.com and www.kkirch.blogspot.com.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/

Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for? amarinda_jones@yahoo.com.au

Sunday stuff...

Thief of Mine - review

Amarinda Jones is one of the best erotic writers I’ve been fortunate enough to read. The storyline is excellent. Suspense, erotic scenes and a fast pace are the ingredients she puts into Thief of Mine. The scenes are very vivid and the action begins at the first paragraph and ends at the last. There is no shortage of downtime in Thief of Mine. Ms. Jones kudos! You’ve told a wonderful story.

http://www.fallenangelreviews.com/2007/October/Tracey-ThiefOfMine.htm
**Click on the cover to buy the book**

I am officially knackered. If a Greek god stood ten feet away from me and held a pack of Tim Tams and beckoned me forward for chocolate and who knows what else, I would say no thanks. I’m too tired…but throw the Tim Tams over before you go. I’m tired – not dead.



I am getting a new drive way put in soon. I have the quote, I just have to go through all the hoop-la of filling in forms to get the council to approve my driveway crossing over part of the footpath - oh and by the way please pay $56.00 for this privilege. Yes, we know you pay your rates diligently but this is for an inspector to come out and look at the footpath. I think it’s like his lunch money or something. Anyway, I have this quote which is very good as I can haggle with the best of them. I decided I could quite easily rip up part of the driveway myself to save me money. So I did that today. I don’t get the driveway done for several weeks and the bit I am ripping up does not affect access.

So, this morning at 7am, dressed in shorts held up by a safety pin, a bleach splattered shirt, and broad-brimmed hat, I set out to commence the ‘ripping up.’ Two things about me – I always think ‘this won’t take long’ and it always does – and – I never ask for help. If I was hanging by a finger nail on a rope bridge over a crevasse and Indiana Jones was hanging around, I would still not ask for help as ‘I can do it.’ And five hours later, I got it done. I drank 4 litres of fluid, swore 57 – 58 times, broke all my fingernails and used nearly an entire tube of sunscreen but it’s done. I was so pleased with my fabulousness I decided to spend the next two hours in a frenzy hacking, slashing and weeding garden.


Of course now, I can barely move and I am contemplating spending the night at the keyboard as getting up seems like such a chore. Thankfully, I only have to go to work tomorrow so I don’t need to be alert.

Did you know Anny Cook is a wicked woman? Read Everything Lovers Can Know and you will know how wicked she is. This book is sweet, sexy and funny – not to mention informative. I would recommend it to anyone looking to spice up their love life. It’s out now through Ellora’s Cave – click on the cover to buy it. You will not regret it. Its book one in the Mystic Valley series. You can then buy book 2 & 3 after you’ve read this one.

Speaking of all things mystic – on www.kkirch.blogspot.com Kelly is still on the path of dinosaurs and dragons however they are smart enough to be hiding from her. Anny has the last episode of The Learning Tree on www.annycook.blogspot.com. If you have been in outer Mongolia where the Internet connection was crap and missed the first three episodes you can always flick back and start at the beginning. And, as always the blogs to the left have scintillating news and stories to liven up your Sunday so there is no reason to be bored. The blog serial is back Monday so we will all have to wait to see what Lawrence the parakeet makes of Grasshopper and if Rinalda divulges the secret of the golden carrot.

Tuesday is rant day on the Amarinda blog…feel free to email me on amarinda_jones@yahoo.com.au if you want me to bitch about something for you. Otherwise I am sure I can come up with a rant on my own….there are so many to choose from.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Monday, Monday

Thief of Mine

At the reception…

As plates of soup were served, Stella felt movement under the table. Her skirt was suddenly being tugged further up her leg. She looked at Kit Kincaid, who in turn looked back at her innocently. A horrible thought occurred to her. Oh God, he wouldn’t, would he? Stella’s mouth dropped as she felt his hand starting to burrow further under her skirt. Bloody hell! This could and should not be happening. Did the man have no sense of decorum at all?
“Stop it now!” Stella hissed softly at him, as she clutched her soup spoon in one hand and slid her other hand under the table to push his hands away from what she knew was his objective. Although she did not want to create a scene she would.
Kit’s hand slid up the bare flesh of Stella’s thigh seeking and finding the edge of her panties.
“Talk to me, princess,” Kit said sotto voiced, looking like he did not have a care in the world as his hand sought out the hidden, hot prize he knew awaited his touch.
Stella dropped her spoon and grabbed the table edge with one hand as she battled the other that was sliding into her panties.
“I don’t want to talk to you!” Stella returned in a furious whisper. “Stop it now!”
Kit slid his long fingers under the fabric and stroked the soft curls between her legs. He felt Stella tense and heard her strangled gasp. She was soft and wet to the touch. Perfect.
“Agree to meet me outside now and I’ll stop.” He continued to push his way on into the moist folds between her legs, seeking entrance to the core of her.

Oh, dear…what will Stella do?

Dear Amarinda, this is your horoscope for Monday, October 22th:

Scorpio,You will not accept a new task at work but your superior will try to force you. In Love, your beloved will complain because you are not paying enough attention to your partner. Tip: try to be compliant.

It got explained to me today what my problem was. What’s that? Wasn’t I aware that I had a problem? Apparently not and I do so enjoy it when a man decides he needs to tell you what your problem is. Yes, of course, he’s an idiot because he has no idea of the bollicking he is about to receive when he finishes his dissertation on Amarinda Jones. Hey, I know I have faults. I can’t whistle. There are probably others but they are probably only trivial.

Anyway back to the man.

“You are very strong willed Amarinda. That’s intimidating.”

“An office full of men is intimidated by one woman?” I asked faking shock even thought I knew it was true – but let’s face it, we women are good at faking it when we have to.

“It’s like this Amarinda, when we make a decision and we expect everyone to follow it, not suggest how we can make the decision better or why you think the decision stinks.”

“If I can correct you, I believe I said the decision was crap.” (pardon the pun...read on)

What was the decision? That the men could use the ladies toilets. Not over this little black duck’s body.

“I know there is one of me to ten of you but unless you have a vagina, you are not using the female toilets.” When I mentioned the ‘v’ world several men fell silent. I suspect because it was the closest they were every going to get to one.

Deep sigh. “It would make things easier if we could all share.”

“And it would be fine if you all adhered to the same state of hygiene a woman adheres to but as you don’t I will consider this a health and safety issue and take it further.”

I won. Yes, I am a pushy bitch but they know they would be lost without me - my last sick day (Okay I wasn’t sick, I was writing) proved that when they all ran around like headless chooks. Sure, they could sack me and it would not bother me a whit. At the moment until something better comes along, that has the same writing in work time potential, I’ll stick it out as it suits my purposes.

I am strong willed. Yet most women are considered worse when they thwart a man with logic. You are considered a ball breaking bitch. Yes, I am – get over it. I don’t hate men, on the contrary, but I just can’t see the point of the ones I work with. I am sure someone loves them though…their mothers or their pet goldfish.

So, you’ve noticed the pictures of strong women? No, I am sure they did not have to fight over access to the ladies loos but they are women that we should admire and aspire to be like. The quiet, confidence of Eleanor Roosevelt as she directed the US President, the guts and arrogance of Elizabeth the 1st as she held power over Britain in a dangerous time and where would Kermit be without Miss Piggy? In the swamp and he knows it.

I think too many women worry about what a man will think of them. Sure, lots of men won’t like you but they probably weren’t going to like you anyway. Besides, who wants a weak man?

Last Man Standing
Sequel to Swift of Heart


Present Day in the Dimension of Melotia

“I am not the father.”
The words were cold and harsh to hear and even harder to speak. But it was all Alex Navarro could say when he stopped dead in his tracks and he saw her. Amy Hart. The shock of seeing her so suddenly gripped him like a vice and squeezed at his heart. This was the woman who had haunted his dreams for the last six months. The woman no other could ever compare with in his heart and mind. The same woman, who now stood before him, momentarily flinching as if his words had stung her. But it was only for a moment, for as his eyes locked with hers he knew once again Amy Hart had raised her invisible shields against him allowing nothing to touch her emotionally.

Alex looked down again at swelling of her stomach. He was not sure which emotion gripped him the most—shock, delight or just plain anger at not knowing of her condition. Amy Hart was pregnant. She was standing before him looking so damn vulnerable and so incredibly beautiful that it made him feel so many things he had denied ever wanting to feel again. Love, longing and forever. The one word that came catapulting into his mind was ‘mine’. It had never been any different. Such was her effect on him. Alex Navarro wanted Amy Hart. Yet he could never have her. He knew he would be her downfall. He could not risk either the woman he loved or his child. Alex had to deny his heart.

What does Alex do? And more to the point what will Amy allow him to do?

What are Kelly and Anny doing you ask? Good question. Anny is interviewing author Jacqueline Roth on a www.annycook/blogspot.com. Kelly has the blog serial today on www.kkirch.blogspot.com. Watch out for the mystical talking dragon.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/

Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Go ahead, read a book...you know you want to...

I will give you a break from the world according to Amarinda. That’s right, no pontificating today. Monday I will be back to waffle on as usual. It’s Sunday and a good day to relax and read a book. What’s that? Nothing to read? Come on. There are heaps of great books on either the Ellora’s Cave, Cerridwen Press or the Total-e-Bound sites. I have three fabulous ones listed below. Yes, one of them belongs to me. If I do not love myself, how can others? So sit back and relax and read three hot excerpts. Be warned, these excerpts contain French (swearing) and gymnastic contortions (sex). If you don’t like being multi-lingual and if exercise isn’t your thing then check out my Saturday blog for more books. And remember, when you are looking for something to read, check out all the great blogs on the left-hand side of this page. The blog serial returns to http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ Monday with Kelly. For the last toothy installment, go check out http://www.annycook.blogspot.com/ with Anny.

Warning – language and sexual references…take your heart pills if you need ‘em.

Thief of Mine – by the Jones girl – what happens in the photo booth stays in the photo booth. Click on the cover to buy the book

“You were turned on by that?” His fingers tugging in her nipple were certainly increasing the pool of moisture between her legs.
“Yeah I was.” He stopped, leant down and licked one of her nipples. Stella moaned out loud. “I want you.”
Stella pulled Kit’s head to his breasts and urged him to suck her.
“Here? Now? Where?” Forget modesty and pretence. She wanted him.
Kit took his mouth off one of her pink wet nipples with a pop, making it bounce. He looked around him. He saw the sign for the ladies rest room. “Come on, princess.” He spied a male cleaner nearby. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars cash to close the restroom down now.”
The male, forty-year-old cleaner locked eyes on Stella’s swollen naked breasts.
“You want a place to fuck her?”
“Well?” At that moment, Kit would happily give a thousand dollars to be wet, hot and tight inside Stella for five minutes.
The man’s eyes remained on Stella’s breasts.
“No money man, I just want to watch.”
The thought of someone watching them made Stella hotter than she could imagine possible. She licked her lips and looked at Kit.
Kit looked at her and smiled. She was turned on. Kit didn’t care who watched him.
“Do you want him to watch as I fuck you, princess?” He caressed her breasts softly.
Stella licked her lips in thought. She should say no and be ashamed for even thinking of the possibility of another watching them. It was not right. A good girl would say no and be appalled that man would even ask her. It was immoral and wrong. But the overwhelming urge to be bad and have red hot sex with Kit in front of a stranger was overwhelming.
“Yes…” Stella hissed softly, her eyes locked with Kit’s.
Kit pulled her close and kissed her thoroughly. He would have done anything for Stella at that moment.
The cleaner excitedly grabbed a nearby yellow safety cone and pushed open the door to the ladies room.
“She’s got to be completely naked.” He pushed his trolley inside.
“Done, “Kit told the man. “This is going to be good, princess.” He pushed Stella into the ladies room. The sign went up and all three people were inside the generic white tiled bathroom.
“You heard the man he wants you naked and so do I.”
There was so much that was morally wrong about this but so much that was carnally right. Stella unbuckled her jeans and slid them to the floor. The two men watching drank in the pale beauty of her legs.
“I want her underwear,” the man said hoarsely his attention riveted to the red scrap of lace between her legs.
“Give it to him.” Kit watched as Stella kicked off her shoes and slid out of her panties. She bent down to remove them.
Stella walked over to the man and handed the scrap of lace to him. She felt wild and out of control but she did not care.
“I want her to touch herself.” The man ordered his voice hoarse.
Stella felt like she was going to explode. This was one of the most erotic things she had ever done. She was under the control and orders of two men. It was like one of her fantasies coming to life. She wanted to be out of control and being told what to do. Stella looked at Kit. She could see the definite bulge in his trousers. She wanted him to order her to do it. She would do anything for him at that moment.
Kit sensed that Stella wanted to be under anyone’s control but her own. The though of ordering her to be bad made his cock harder than he thought it possible be.
“Touch that sweet clit of yours, princess. We want to see how much pleasure you can give yourself. Let yourself go.”
…..and then they either all sit down and play a round of cards or other stuff happens….
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419911064

Between a Rock and a Hard-on – by Cindy Spencer Page (I love this title and cover) Click on the cover to buy

He couldn’t fucking believe it!
One of the most sacred nights of the pagan calendar and his boss was making him hang out at a party. Not that he was particularly religious, but his sister Dana was going to tear a strip off his hide if he missed her coven’s ritual tonight, after he’d promised to be there. Besides, this was a children’s party and Bram wasn’t all that comfortable around children. And let’s not even think about the fact that if any of his brethren saw him standing here in a hotel ballroom, passing out candy in a black acetate cape and cheesy plastic fangs, he’d never hear the end of it.
“You’re not Dracula!” One tow headed boy of about six, who smelled strongly of sugar and candy-maker’s wax tugged hard on Bram’s cloak.
“No, I’m not.” Bram’s voice was slurred by the fake fangs. “He gets invited to much better parties on Halloween. I’m the low-budget version. A second-cousin on his mother’s side.” He pushed just enough genuine power into his words to make the boy’s eyes go wide. Nodding as if that answer made perfect sense, the kid took the candy bar Bram held out to him, then scuttled off to the next station.
“That wasn’t very nice.” The voice in Bram’s ear didn’t have a body to go with it, so Bram knew who it had to be. There was only one ghost on the team of paranormal enforcers the mayor had put together.
“Hey, Frank.” Bram gave a grim smile to another group of approaching youngsters. “How come his honor doesn’t have you doling out goodies?”
“There’s the small matter of my hands—not to mention the rest of me—being incorporeal,” Frank reminded him. “Actually he had me stationed in his pathetic excuse for a haunted house. Fortuitously all of the urchins have now completed that portion of the entertainment.”
Bram laughed. Trust Mayor Pendleton to have a real ghost working the haunted house at his Halloween party for underprivileged kids. He passed out treats to the three kids in the next batch, then spoke to Frank again. “Yeah, well this part better finish up pretty quickly. I’ve got places to be tonight.”
“Ooh, a hot date? Do tell?” He could hear the envy in the ghost’s disembodied voice. “I remember those.”
Poor Frank. Bram decided to take pity on him and tell him the truth. “Nah, not a date. I’ve got a Samhain ritual I promised to attend.” His tongue tripped over the plastic fangs and he damn near drooled. Uggh! Enough! He surreptitiously spat the stupid things out into his hand and shoved them in the back pocket of his black chinos, then allowed his own canine teeth to lengthen. To hell with the mayor’s better ideas!
Another group approached, made up of a bunch of littler kids this time, shepherded around by a grown-up. Bram had to look twice to figure that out, she wasn’t much taller than the kids, but judging by the generous rack that filled the front of her cheap black witch’s outfit, she was an adult. One more look had Bram adjusting the damn cape to hide the sudden hard-on that had sprung up in his pants. Oh, yeah, definitely a grown-up! But the mayor had screwed up when he’d dressed her as a witch instead of a fairy princess. Long platinum-blonde curls tumbled out from the pointed cardboard hat. She had big, slightly tilted green eyes and plump, glossy lips that would look just right wrapped around his cock. He only hoped none of the kids she was wrangling were hers.
“Trick or treat!” Five of the kids chorused the refrain, but one small one began to whimper and point at Bram. He felt a frisson of power and cursed mentally. That kid was a damn wizard, or would be one day. Unfortunately His Honor seemed to have forgotten that kids with magic could usually see through the façade of humanity that Bram wore on a daily basis.
“Don’t cry, sweetie, he’s just a pretend vampire.” The ersatz witch picked up the sniffling toddler and cuddled him close, while Bram passed out goodies to the others.
“Here’s one for the little guy.” He held out a lollipop to the woman, as the teary-eyed urchin hid his face in her generous cleavage. Lucky kid! Privately, Bram thought the tyke had already gotten the best treat in the place. Bram would happily trade every last piece of candy in Philadelphia for the chance to bury his face between those breasts.
“Thanks.” Her voice was soft and breathy and her bright green eyes twinkled as she grinned at Bram. A human wouldn’t have been able to discern color in this half-light, but Bram had excellent dark vision. “Sorry about Kevin.”
She reached up to pluck the candy from his hand and just for a second, their fingers touched. And where they did, they burned. Just a momentary flare of heat, but it was like nothing Bram had ever felt before. If he’d thought he had a hard-on before, now he was going to have trouble walking, his body was so stiff. He actually felt dizzy for an instant as all the blood left his brain. She pulled her hand away like it was burning, so she must have felt it too. It wasn’t just a shock of static electricity, it was magic…
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419912306

Traveller’s Refuge – by Anny Cook – what’s not to love about blue people? Click on the cover to buy the book.

For several days, Trav apathetically accepted whatever his caretakers offered. His bones were beginning to knit together and they no longer ached like fire. Llyon had healed his internal injuries to the point that he was no longer in danger of dying. But he barely cared whether he lived or died. These people were strange beyond comprehension. They fed him odd food, offered strange treatments and refused to answer his questions. He’d kind of gotten used to the company of Wrenna who turned out to be a tiny red haired woman but she’d been gone for a week without even saying good-bye. When he asked about her, somebody just mumbled something about mid-summer. He closed his eyes to shut out the alien surroundings.

Just as he was drifting into the more comfortable landscape of his dreams, his petite companion came in and began removing his bedding. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked angrily as she whipped off the sheet he clutched in his weak grasp, leaving him naked.

Wrenna fought back a smile. “Dai and Llyon say it’s time to start exercising those muscles,” she replied briskly, completely ignoring his state of undress.

“Get out! Leave me alone! Can’t you see I don’t have any clothes on?”

She stopped what she was doing and gave him a very slow, thorough inspection from head to toe. He’d lost some weight but he still had a fine set of muscles, especially that thick cock between his legs. “Very nice. Too bad it doesn’t work,” she lamented, ignoring the slow wet curl of heat centered between her damp thighs. He certainly was a beautiful man.

He rolled over, turning away from her gaze, unmindful that he now presented her with an interesting new vista for inspection. “Get out now!”

She watched his taut butt clench and twitch. Oh, yeah, he needed to get well in a hurry! “When you can get out of that bed and make me leave, you will be able to make the decisions. Until then, we will have the exercises,” she stated firmly. “Do you wish to start on your stomach or your back?” Her fingers were itching to touch him anywhere at all.

Like a small sulky child, he refused to answer, so she decided to begin just as he was. After gathering up his beautiful light auburn hair in a single braid, she pulled it to the side, resolving to wash it for him later in the week. Removing her meerlim to keep it from getting stained by the quoltania oil, she climbed up on the gently swinging bed and carefully straddled his waist. Pouring a small amount of warm oil in the palm of her hand, she proceeded to smooth it over his back, massaging it in slow soothing motions. Touching him almost became a hypnotic exercise. Her breasts swelled and ached for his touch as her nipples crinkled into tight little nubs. When she was done with his back, she moved on down his body, rubbing her wet pussy over the rise of his ass until she straddled his hard legs. Her breasts brushed against him as she bent over him, working the oil into the curves of his butt, smoothing the long tight muscles in his legs, one taut section at a time, until she finished at his feet. Drawing a deep breath in preparation, she patted his butt and directed, “Time to turn over now.”

Traveller had been slowly realizing that all this slow, sensual rubbing of his body by a naked woman was giving him the hard-on from hell. Her damp pussy slithering down his back had nearly given him a heart attack. Damned if he was going to roll over, waving his cock in the air! “I don’t think so sweetheart. Just leave me like this!”

“I told you the rules. Until you can enforce what you want, we will do things my way. Turn over!” Sternly, she controlled her expression, well aware of his state.

Alright! He thought. Let’s see how she deals with a hard cock! Rolling onto his back, he sprawled with his legs spread out and his cock and balls on clear display. He was unprepared for what he saw. Wrenna knelt at his feet stark naked and obviously aroused by her ministrations.

Wrenna! Are you trying to kill me? he demanded soundlessly.

She tilted her head and stared back at him with a slight smile. Just remember it goes both ways. Completely ignoring his bobbing erection with heroic will power, Wrenna crawled up next to his ribcage. She straddled his waist and began massaging his chest, lingering over the smooth muscles and savoring touching his skin. Skating lightly over his hard pointed nipples, resisting the urge to take them in her mouth, she moved down to his belly, and allowed the soft silky petals of her pussy to close around his velvety cock. He groaned and reached for her taut pert nipples and gently tweaked them. After a few minutes she sighed regretfully and moved on down his sore legs carefully massaging the tight muscles all the way to his feet. By the time she finished, he was drowsily sliding toward sleep, even though his cock was as hard as rock. She stared at his cock with longing, her mouth watering with desire. Silky cream slid from her pussy, dampening her thighs.

He heard the rustle of the sheet, then the soft sensation of it sliding up his legs. Suddenly, he felt a warm wet mouth engulf his penis, suckling it gently and he was shocked wide awake. Her tongue curled around the sensitive crown and then with agonizing slowness, she released him, placed a soft kiss on the head, covered him, slipped down from the high bed, grabbed her meerlim and walked away.

“What the hell was that?” he yelled after her.

She poked her bright head around the door, gave him a sweet smile and said, “A reward for cooperating. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow.” And then she wondered if she was going to die from frustration before he was on his feet. There was no question in her mind or body. He was her bond-mate.
http://www.ellorascave.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419910593

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Ask a silly question...

Thief of Mine review

Though my first time reading Amarinda Jones, I was pulled and refused to let go even at the end. Amarinda adds a new style to Erotica and with a true talent brings her characters to vivid life and breath-taking reality.Combine a thief, ancient idol, a proud prude and what do you get? Thief of Mine, a story that has stolen this reviewer’s heart, and leaves you waiting with bated breath for the next gripping tale.

http://www.enchantingreviews.com/ThiefOfMine.html

http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=AJon

Ask a silly question….I was wondering what to write on today’s blog so I asked authors and women of the world Anny Cook and Kelly Kirch for random, off the top of their head topics. I thought world politics, man's inhumanity to man or maybe the price of petrol. No. Authors are a different species to everyone else. This is what the came up with - legs up in the air (that’s what I am politely calling it), bunny boilers, the degree of drunkenness needed to reach the “I need a man’ stage", psychics, sex and food. Yes, logical topics most people would give if on the planet Zork. So here goes…

Were you aware that putting your legs up is good for you circulation? Of course you were. Legs ache? Hoist them in the air. There’s also the old wives tale that it can prevent varicose veins. So raising your legs is a good, healthy thing to do. Or maybe consider a good old knees up. What’s that? It’s all about people dancing, laugh and having a good time at a party. Not what someone thought I would write – but I am being a good girl. You’d have to read an Amarinda Jones book for the other explanation I would use.

I am not really someone who attracts bunny boiler type people. I believe it’s a personality thing. Obsessive people know from my trade mark death stare that I am not one to be putting up with them and I have no hesitation in telling them that. Needy people seem to know who to zero in on to wear down with their obsessive neediness. My belief is that everyone knows when something does not feel right or seems odd to them. Be polite and be firm to these people and don’t set yourself up as a victim. Life is too short to be dealing with that crap.

A drunken declaration of needing a man? To be honest, I don’t think there is enough alcohol on the planet to get me so drunk that I would declare I needed a man. No, I don’t bat for the other team – not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s more I cannot see a smart, independent woman having to get that drunk to consider the need for a man in her life. You either want one or you don’t. It’s like you want a gold fish or you don’t. What are they going to bring to your life and how easy are they to flush down the toilet?

Psychics, sex and food. Being psychic – the ability to be able to predict or sense things. Sex – making love. Food – sustenance. The perfect man – he senses when to advance and retreat, he knows what it takes to make your toes curl and he can cook. Does he exist? Yes, in an Amarinda Jones books he does.

Am I going to ask Anny and Kelly for topics again? No, they are mates but they are insane. Sorry, it had to be said.

You must go to www.annycook.blogspot.com to read about Titus the were-tick. No really. Would I lie to you? Then sashay over to www.kkirch.blogspot.com and see what she has done to the blog serial. I don’t even know as yet as Kelly has not told Anny or me which does not bode well…for her as payback is a bitch. But then so am I.

I get sent a Quote from the Oprah site everyday. Usually they are very uplifting but this one – it’s either extremely existentially and spiritually enlightening or it’s a confusing load of twaddle…what do you think?

"Do not think of what you are / Still less of / What you may one day be / Rather / Be what you are...be / The unthinkable one / You do not know." -- Thomas Merton.

Yes…and on that deep and meaningful twaddle-bound thought…hooroo ‘til tomorrow.

Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?
www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/

The big win...

The amazing characters in Thief of Mine kept me engaged throughout the fast-paced story. Resident bad boy, Kit Kincaid was not humble or modest. He was a self-serving thief who could charm the draws off any woman. Getting to know him was a delicious experience and one I want to repeat over and over again. I pictured myself in Stella’s place and immediately headed for the bedroom. The woman knew what she was dealing with when she signed on for gratuitous sex involving Kit. When they first met, he was pounding a bride on her wedding day. Stella had to give in and I was right there for the mind-blowing ride. The story was sensual as well as erotic, the combination brought goose bumps to my skin. On top of the novel containing hot sex, it had a plot that kept me on edge. There was a plethora of heart stopping action scenes and several dramatic climaxes. Adrenaline swept through my veins. Thief of Mine deserved five stars and an orgasmic rating. I applaud Ms. Jones’ talent and recommend readers buy a copy right away. www.justeroticromancereviews.com - Thanks JERR

Okay, tonight I will win the $10 million Powerball. Yes, I know I have said that before but hope springs eternal and desperation and greed goes on forever. Apparently there is a one in nine million chance that any one person will win it. Who makes up these odds? Is it some mathematical boffin who comes up with them to confuse or depress us so we won't play and then they win because the odds shorten? Anyway I cannot see why I cannot be the one out of nine million others. My first action, once I am sober enough to speak clearly, will be to quit work. I don’t understand people who say they will continue to work after winning a gazillion dollars as they would be bored. Bored? How can a gazillion dollars be boring? My friend Svetlana, no, not her real name, said she wouldn’t know what to do if she stopped working. I find it sad that she has nothing else in her life to turn to. Why does work become so important to some people? Yes, I know its all about paying bills but why do we define our lives by our jobs? I deal with a woman who signs all her emails with the title “Executive Sales and Marketing Manager.” She’s not. She’s an office manager like me. But she said it sounds a more important sign off than my normal “Is it Friday yet? best wishes, Amarinda.” She is the sort that will win lots of money and then go back to work. Fate, if you are listening, let me win the money and I swear I’ll appreciate it and only do good things with the money.

Every Thursday morning the garbage bins get collected in my street. And like many Thursday mornings it is only when I hear the sounds of bins crashing against the side of the truck that I think holy snapping ducks! I haven't put the bins out. I then have to race outside in my pyjamas and look up the street to see what bin I should put out. Recycling and normal or just normal? The angst of modern life. I then drag the bin to the curb in time for the garbo(guy in the truck) to roll up to empty them. I always wave at him and he shakes his head. I think he shakes his head because he secretly thinks I am a vision of loveliness in my flannelette pj’s, bed socks and thongs (flip flops) - and not that I am like every other dumb homeowner who forgets bin day.

Anyway, today after the bins were emptied, I looked down and saw a big blue cross spray painted on the grass nature strip in front of my house (grass I don’t own that is on public property).Hmm…I looked up a bit further and saw another cross. No, it was not an alien landing or religious phenomena (I could have made money out of those) - I was going to get two trees out front of my house. I love trees. My front fence is made up of native trees and the back yard is full of them. I have so many trees it affects the reception on my mobile (cell phone). Anyway, as I headed off to work I saw the man with the trees. I stopped the car and applied some charm and got to pick the trees I wanted out front of my house - a Jacaranda (purple flowers) and a wattle (yellow flowers and Australia’s flora emblem). Hey, I pay my council rates. I own those trees and a bunch more I reckon. And what is the point of being a hormonally charged woman if you cannot put those hormones to good use?

Speaking of hormonally charged women - did you read www.kkirch.blogspot.com? Well of course you did. Did you see what Kelly has done to out blog serial? As for Anny – www.annycook.blogspot.com - the Zen queen leads Grasshopper astray and then I have to pay for it. But, never fear, I have an idea in mind.

Blue Ribbon rating – 5. Thanks Romance Junkies - This is my first book by Ms. Jones and I suspect not my last. THIEF OF MINE was a great read, well thought out with plenty of layers that kept me guessing till the end. I hope that Ms. Jones writes more stories like THIEF OF MINE it in the future. http://www.romancejunkiesreviews.com/artman/publish/contemporary/Thief_of_Mine.shtml

amarinda_jones@yahoo.com.au
www.freewebs.com/janetdavies
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Sunday stuff...

Where is there the 6th edition of the chronicle of Emmeline and the man who is a twin you ask? Well it's taking a Sunday rest and the next edition will be on http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/on Monday. If you missed the last edition or have no idea what I am talking about and you have burning desire to know - check out http://www.annycook.blogspot.com/.

Every Sunday morning I wander out in my flannelette pajamas and pick up the newspaper from the front lawn - well it's not actually lawn at the moment it's more dirt because of the drought but you get my drift. I think wearing your pj’s outside on your property is socially acceptable – though I did see someone wearing them grocery shopping last Thursday night so I guess there is no hard an fast rule when it comes to pink flannelette. Any thoughts on this? Please advise.

Anyway once I have the newspaper, I settle down with my coffee to read what is going on in the world. This morning I did find out that I was not on the 100 richest people in Queensland list. What a shocker that was and I have to ask does anyone really give a rat’s arse who is the richest person? Obviously someone must as they printed it. But really it’s not going to make a lot of difference to anyone but the person who is called the richest is it? And then what do they get out of it? Okay, yes, they get money but it’s not like they can wear a badge that says “I am the richest person” – because everyone would go ‘so what’ or rob them. After flipping through the richest people and not seeing any of my friends either, I took a cursory look at politics - the latest ‘pick me and I’ll be the bestest at running the country’ contest, then I avoided the sports pages because other than men in short shorts who cares and finally I flipped through for the horoscope as that is vitally important. There was a moment of panic when I could not find it. How can I be expected to start the day without it for god sake? When I found and read Scorpio, I discarded it immediately as it was boring and not what I wanted to hear. I prefer to read the Scorpios will win much money and will never have to work again. I don’t want to read about adversity and perseverance as they just suck. I need to hear about the mystery man who will sweep me off my feet and lavish gifts upon me as we travel the world. Maybe next Sunday.

I drove up to the Sunshine Coast, home of the late Steve Irwin. There is still a huge billboard with his face on the side of the road advertising Australia Zoo. I admire anyone who has great passion – Steve had in bucket loads. Every time I see that sign I tell myself I need to live more like I mean it and to be more passionate about the important things. RIP Steve. Speaking of passion and important things, as I was driving it started to rain. I was stunned. Rain. Wet Stuff from the sky. Bloody hell, who knew? I was momentarily confused but I managed to remember where my windscreen wipers were. Rain is an exciting event at the moment. People talk about it for days. Unfortunately – an hour away in my own home town of Brisvegas it did not rain. Fickle stuff rain. But I did see it and that alone made me happy and hope springs eternal...now if I can just get me that rainwater tank...

When I arrived back from the Sunshine Coast I knew I had to do some exercise. No, I am not and never will be an exercise junkie. I hate, loathe and despise it but I have lost a lot of weight and the only damn way to keep it off is exercise and that sucks badly. Added to that I had consumed quite a bit of crap this weekend so after much swearing I knuckled down to exercise. I have an exercise bike, stepper and other torture equipment at home. I can only exercise if I watch television as it takes my mind off the what I am putting myself through. In lieu of nothing to watch on TV – no, I don’t have cable – yes how dreadful and backward I am – I put on a video – yes I still have a VCR. Why – because. Anyway I rifled through my selection of old favourite movies and I came across Thoroughly Modern Millie. If you haven’t seen it – see it. It’s romantic, slapstick that is funny and innocent. Anyway I taped it years ago. As I was sweating away, I realized I had taped it late 1980-early 1990’s. Bloody hell! The commercials! Didn’t we wear some horrible clothes in that period? Waist bands were high, hairstyles were big and poofy and we seemed to like plaid a lot. I had read just recently that the 90’s look is coming back. Why don’t we learn anything when it comes to fashion and more importantly why do so call fashionistas call the shots and make people wear such ugly crap? I don’t follow fashion. I wear what is comfortable and suits me. I don’t need some scrawny blonde haired airhead with a toy dog in her handbag dictating trends.

So that was my Sunday. I am going to write a bit and then crawl into bed so I get a good sleep and I am all ready and refreshed for another exciting Monday morning at work…okay, that did not sound sincere but I will work on it. Should have it down pat by Friday afternoon.

Thief of Mine

Because I Can

Swift of Heart

Rose Perfect
www.freewebs.com/janetdavies

Thief of Mine Released today!!

Let the pigeons loose! Thief of Mine – Released today!! Click on the cover and check it out.

Thief of Mine - the blurb...

It's not unusual for the bride to have sex on her wedding day. But when the bride is begging for another man to take her hard and fast in front of a startled bridesmaid that's unusual. Not that Stella Rowallan wanted to watch. She walked in on it and now she can't walk out. The man taking the bride is bad, wild and hot. Stella knows she should be appalled. But she's not. She wants him. What is it with the bad boys that make them so damn good?

But all bad boys have a past and Kit Kincaid is no different. He is a self confessed thief who likes to have sex in wild, daring places. And Stella Rowallan is just his type of woman - shockable yet willing. But he has a problem. A freaky witch woman and her followers are chasing him for a stolen stone idol. Kit has it and he plans to sell it. Can he have both Stella and the idol or does something have to give?

After the fanfare of getting Thief of Mine released I know you are wondering how can I possibly top that? Well I can...sort of. I am getting a new washing machine delivered tomorrow morning. Yes, much excitement - ok it's not but I have a pile of washing that has grown to Everest proportions and as the damn washing pixies won't do it, I have to. Damn pixies. But you know what it? I am lucky. No, not that I get to do laundry- that's just bloody boring. The thing is at least I can buy a washing machine – a lot of people can’t. I was talking to a work colleague, in another country, that I talk to everyday, occasionally about work stuff but mainly we just gossip. I love her accent when she swears. All her swear words come as as two syllables i.e. F*** and then 'ed'. Anyway she cannot afford either a washing machine or a fridge. Why? Because their standard of living is so different to ours. I believe it's always good to have a reality check to realize how lucky some of us are and what we take for granted. I also sponsor a child in Bangladesh – well she is a teenager now. Sponsoring is a big reality check. I remember coming home one night after what I considered a crap day at work to find a letter from her telling me how excited she was that she got a chicken to look after. This child has nothing material in her life and a chicken made her day. So I remind myself of that when I start to bitch and moan. Yes, I will still bitch and moan but with the realization that I am doing okay all things considered.

Okay off the soapbox. The work day finished on a high. The upper level manager (I am lower level management but much more attractive) came in and said "We can all leave early today". I was standing up with my handbag in my hand and walking to the door on the word ‘leave.’ Skippy, my morose assistant announced that she would stay until the ‘proper leaving time’ as she ‘knew someone would need her.’ No she’s not a superhero who needs to stay by the batphone. She just lives by an iron set of self inflicted rules whereas I believe in taking every blessed opportunity to skive off early. As I rushed past the sanctimonious Skippy I waved as even the anally retentive need recognition. Yes, I am a half-arsed boss. But on the bright side I am very good to myself. I stopped on the way home and bought myself a bottle of champagne in recognition of this.

And now, without further ado - the much anticipated 4th instalment of the continuing adventures of Emmeline and the man was the ‘thing’ in his hands...(sorry Anny. I did change the ending. Yes, I am very very naughty.)

“You bastard,” Emmeline cursed softly. He knew how badly she needed what he held in his hands. Her mouth craved the hard smooth feel of it against her lips. She wanted to suck it slowly inside and savor the taste of it on her tongue. She ripped the goggles off her head and looked at him. He smiled knowingly. She hated the fact that he thought he had this power over her. “You’re delusional. I would never let you touch me let alone taste me and the only time I ever sighed your name was through sheer and utter boredom.” Emmeline pointed her laser saber at him. “You’re cute but not as cute as your twin brother.” She saw the muscle in his jaw jump with anger. “Now give me that damn chocolate bar or I will deny you the one the thing you desire most.”

The man laughed and shook his head. “You do that and I'll make sure you never know where I have imprisoned my twin brother."

Check out Anny’s insightful and most likely crazy response Saturday on -

http://www.annycook.blogspot.com/. Missed reading a bit? Check out Kelly on http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/

By the way…did I mention I have a book released today? Thief of Mine – bad boy meets occasionally good girl – take a walk on the wild side.

Poll results for A challenge is...most popular was "A pain in the arse when you are busy doing other stuff." Clearly smart and attractive people read this blog.
http://www.blogger.com/www.freewebs.com/janetdavies