How perceptive...

Ute from Germany won the contest. The prize is on its way. Once again thanks to all those that entered.

Someone told me today that I do not have a romantic bone in my body. Really? How would they know if they don’t know me? Their belief was founded on the perception that I am too direct in speech and manner. Uh huh….this blog is about perceptions…

“There are things known and there are things unknown, and in between are the doors of perception” --Aldous Huxley

What do you really know about the people around you? The people you see or speak to or email everyday? How much is based on gut feeling or past knowledge? Do you make judgments using your perceptions of what you think may be or is or do you rely on cold, hard facts? Some thoughts on perceptions…

If you have been reading Regina Carlsyle's blog of late then you know lots have been said about the perceptions that some writing associations have about e-book writers not being 'real' writers. It's all bollocks of course but what is this perception based on? Are words any less real because some one can read them on a screen instead of on paper? And what happens when the e-book goes into print as most do. Does the writer become ‘real’ then when a book has inked pages? Or are these perceptions of categorizing writers as being real or not real based on fear or envy that e-book writers are prospering and it's the old tall poppy syndrome of cutting people down?

Recently, a friend and I had words via email. It wasn’t pleasant but that happens. We called each other some unpleasant things. We have never met. We know each other through words. So how right are we in out perceptions of each other? Makes me wonder…

Ages ago on the blog I mentioned my good friend Katie loathed me on sight because when I came to sit in the next desk beside her at Promptel she thought I was a certain type of person – a suck up - because I came from another area of Promptel. She soon learned I was not. I remind her of that constantly. She tells me my evil side wasn’t showing when I first met her…ah perceptions. Maybe I hid the dark side for a reason…maybe I perceived she was a goody two shoes…

There was a case a couple of years ago where an Aboriginal woman collapsed on a bench. Everyone assumed she was drunk. She wasn’t. She had had a stroke and could not speak to ask for help. People's perceptions were she was indigenous and probably had been drinking so it was better to steer clear of her. How sad a society we have become when are perceptions endanger another person’s life.

I recently saw a TV program - early morning - anyway it was about perceptions about gay couples kissing in public. A great number of people perceived it to be 'wrong' - purely because it was the same sex…apparently kissing in public was perceived as okay but not if you were of the same sex. It surprised me because I thought we had come further than that but clearly people’s moral upbringing prevented them from perceiving two consenting adults of the same sex as acceptable.

I have a perception of myself that I cannot shake. It's built on past knowledge and experience. I used to be very overweight. I'm not now but I can't shake the fact and I still perceive myself as overweight. I have the same high level of self esteem as I did when I was overweight but I see myself as overweight because I have been conditioned to do so. Weird but that's how we educate ourselves isn’t it? Past experience…

We are always going to have perceptions of course - you have to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes to really know them don’t you? I am going to attempt to try less to think and more to listen before I jump in and judge by my perceptions. Will that work? Who knows.

Oh, and do I have a romantic bone in my body? Depends who you are and what you mean to me. I don’t romance just any bloke. I'm picky and that’s no perception.

If I make a fool of myself, who cares? I'm not frightened by anyone's perception of me.” –Angelina Jolie

Knock Three Times – released July 18 from Ellora’s Cave is based on perceptions…that only just occurred to me today…yes, forehead slap…

In a case of mistaken identity, Montgomery French thinks security expert Ballantyne Teague is the local bad boy. He turns her boring life upside down and she likes it.

Ballantyne has every intention of confessing the truth to Montie when the time is right. He has two objectives. The first is to make Montie fall hopelessly in love with him. The second is to catch the real burglar Montie thinks he is.

But Ballantyne is not the only one caught up in Montie’s life. Her ex-boyfriend has a secret that will shock her and a real bad boy lusts after her.

“I need you, chère.” Ballantyne lifted her up onto the pool table and moved in between her open legs.
“Um, I don’t sleep around.” Sex on a pool table? That wasn’t exactly sleeping around now was it? The inside of her thighs was so wet she was dripping at the thought of a complete stranger taking her on the table that still had two down payments to be made on it.
“I bet you haven’t had sex in months.” Ballantyne held her face in her hands. “You must be aching, chère.”
Montie gulped at the sexy tenderness of his tone. It was like he actually cared that she needed the physical contact to make her feel better.
“Yes.” Why lie? The man was not stupid he would be able to see the raw need in her eyes. Montie had a feeling it matched what she saw in his eyes.
“Do you want me?”
“Um…” Montie licked her lips in thought. This man was a rule breaker, an outlaw in society. He was a bad boy who made no apologies for it and yet it thrilled her to the core that he wanted her. What did that actually say about her as a person? That she had loose morals or that she was free spirited? Whatever. Surely every woman ought to have a bad boy at least once in their lives? What would one mad moment of sex hurt her? “Do you have condom?” Wild stranger sex was one thing. Safety was another.
“A smart man’s always prepared.” Ballantyne reached into his back trouser pocket, pullet out his wallet and a couple of condoms. “You just have to say no and I’ll walk away, chère.” He shoved the wallet back into his pants. He held the condoms in the open palm of his hand waited for her answer.
“No,” Montie responded in a hoarse whisper, not meaning it, as her eyes locked on his.
“Liar,” Ballantyne answered with a grin as he pushed a wisp of hair from her face with his free hand. “Try again.”
She was fooling no one. Montie wanted him.
“Um, yes I want you but what about…”
“The guy downstairs? He does not want you but I do.” He placed the condoms on the edge of the table and reached out for her once more.
“But what if he comes upstairs and sees us?” Even as she said the words, a strange thrill shot through Montie’s body. Good, boring Montie does the bad guy on the pool table while good, staid Adam is downstairs probably reading a book.

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

What the???

OMG…eye roll…I think I have mentioned my neighbour across the street. He’s the one with hair past his shoulders and he never, ever seems to wear a shirt. He is always bare-chested. No, it ain’t pretty. Anyway, it’s winter in OZ. I find it cold. I went to roll down the roman blinds just now and there he was – bare chest, in jeans and wearing a beanie (knitted woollen cap) on his head. Yes, what a sight. He saw me at the window and I started to laugh. I have a horrible feeling he thought that was a smile of interest from me as he smiled back…god help me…I ain’t going to happen beanie boy – and yes, looks are not important but I require some basic level of sanity in my men.

So what am I blogging about today? Hair…no, not because beanie boy has hair past his shoulders…no, this is about women, hair and age. Have you noticed the older you get the more preoccupied with hair you become? And are you sick of it?

I refuse to think of them as chin hairs. I think of them as stray eyebrows-- Janette Barber

When I hit 40 I was okay with that. I get better with age. I expect to be fantastic at 50 and fabulous at 60. The one thing I wasn’t okay with tiny little, annoying hairs that started to appear on my chin and upper lip. What was that about? Up until then I had been genetically lucky. I had not had to do the waxing, bleaching thing – but suddenly the odd black hair appeared. Huh? So you get rid of it then suddenly you notice as the years pass by more facial hair appears. Your hormone levels are good. You could be the poster child for PMS so there’s no worry about excess testosterone. Then suddenly your friends have the same problem with the hair thing. Why facial hair? Is this some cosmic frigging joke? I just feel that as women we have enough to deal with without hitting a certain age and then God or whatever deity you believe in, goes “Bugger it, we’ve toyed with her insides, now let’s give her a beard and moustache. Let’s see how she deals with that.” Were periods not enough to stick us with? Was menopause just because it seemed like a good idea, Cosmos? Now it’s hairy upper lips and chins? Why?

Wax on... wax off. Wax on... wax off --Karate Kid

And have you noticed that if you let the hairs on your chin grow, and maybe beaded them as author Anny Cook suggested, they would grow thick and black – but the roots of your hair on your scalp only come in grey? Huh? What’s that about? Now you not only have to wax parts of your face but you have to think about whether to go grey naturally or touch your hair up. Women are not allowed to grow grey gracefully are they? Men can. They look distinguished. Women just look older. So you think, okay, I’ll dye my hair. But then you have to keep touching it up because you look in the mirror as you are tearing the hair off your face with a wax strip to see the grey growing back in on your scalp. So there you are wax on your upper lip, dye in your hair and still probably having the curse or in the midst of menopause and you think ‘what the fuck is going on?’ Men aren’t putting themselves through this crap. Is there some male deity laughing his arse off at our predicament?

Then you look down at your legs and see the forest that is growing there. I remember being a teenager and shaving my legs for the first time. Mum said,
“You’re going to be doing that for the rest of your life.” You’re not wrong, Narelle (it’s an Aussie saying.) So while you have to eradicate this sudden facial hair and deal with grey roots you have to shave your legs because while the hair on your head may be thinning, it’s still coming in thick and fast on your legs. Who invented women? What were thinking? Do you sometimes wonder if they were looking at the plans the wrong way?

And yeah, I know what you’re thinking – why put yourself through the whole wax, dye, shave thing? Why indeed? Be yourself. Have a beard, trip over the hair on your legs and who cares if boy scouts want to earn a merit badge helping you across the road because of your grey hair? Why do we care – or should I say why do I care? While I am never going to be a raving beauty, I want to look as good as I can. No, not for anyone else – but for me. I don’t want to be sitting somewhere toying with a stray chin hair or going to the restroom and thinking all fluorescent lights in the ladies loos should be banned because they show all the grey. I think, as a woman, I want to be comfortable with who I am. I don’t want a beard. I have the wrong facial structure for that and grey hair – it’s doesn’t suit me. As for hairy legs – I can live with them but sometimes you need to use those legs to make a point and hair free legs are excellent weapons.

So there – hair – can’t live with it and seemingly can’t live without it. Can hardly wait to see what other freakish thing the cosmos wants to stick me with…bastard.

I have everything I had twenty years ago, only it's all a little bit lower -- Gypsy Rose Lee

Off hair….I read two excellent e-books – Beyond Meddling by Barbara Huffert – click here to buy - and Tempting Tess by Regina Carlsyle – click here to buy. The things I like about both these books? The characters in each are real. I believed in them and their actions. I liked them. To me, that’s the mark of a great book. And the sex? Well, it’s hot, funny, sweet and it’s believable. Buy these books. You won’t be disappointed.

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

Friday – how I adore thee…

It has been one of those weeks that if I was given the chance to relive it again as a do-over I would give it a swerve. Don’t you hate weeks like that? It’s been non stop drama. So I plan to slump on the sofa shortly, with a bottle of chateau plonk 2007 and ignore the phone and maybe watch Gone with the Wind for the 37th time because frankly, other than the ridiculous obsession with the mealy mouthed Ashley, Scarlett knew what she was doing in life. As for the whole Rhett thing – even though it ended without the audience knowing what happened – and I refuse to consider the crap ‘Scarlett’ movie as the sequel – I always believed that Rhett would come back to her because kick arse women rule and strong men can’t resist them regardless what they may have said at the time.

There was a report on the news that alcohol will give you cancer. Jeez, eye roll, what doesn’t? My mother ate healthy, lived healthy and died of cancer. Yes, that makes sense doesn’t it? Everything has the potential to kill you. It all, in my less than humble opinion, comes down to fate and fate can be an utter bastard. So I believe in living and will continue to do so regardless of what is the ‘new’ thing destined to kill you.

Work has been dreary. I am working with a woman who is about to retire and has been in the same job for 100 years, okay, maybe I exaggerate – 85 years - and I look at her and think “knock me on the head if I ever get to this stage in my life where there are rules on rules about how rules should be ruled.” Scary. She is also incredibly patronizing and I don’t think she gets that she is. The common complaint is she treats everyone like a 6-year -olds. I am basically ignoring her – doing the nod and smile, blank look thing, because I think she is just a sad, pathetic woman who has no other life and the only life she has ever known in ending. Besides, life is too short to deal with the likes of her. I have to ask – is work life? I respond – no bloody way. Work to me is what you do to have a life or to pay for the life you have. Yet some see it as stimulating and important. Sure, at knock off time I am incredibly stimulated and pay day is exceptionally important to me – other than that, I turn up and generally try and fly under the radar so I can get through the day as quickly as possible. If it wasn’t for personal emails from the likes of Ethel, Nola and Katie I would be asleep at my desk…oh sure there’s work to do but one has to be in the mood doesn’t one?

Dreams – lordy I have had some long, difficult dreams this week. You know the ones – everything is a problem, you get lost, you’re late, you’re running, you’re fighting someone off – and yet I believe for all this exertion I should have lost more weight. It just doesn’t seem right to me.

What the hell is wrong with the government of Burma? Have your politics, your principles and your beliefs but for god sake save your people. Don’t be fuckwits. Haven’t those people suffered enough without the posturing of fools?

Are you looking for a hot, new book to read? Tempting Tess by Regina Carlysle has been released from Ellora’s Cave. It’s part of the Oh Yum series. Check out the blurb and excerpt below and then I know you’ll want to click on the cover to buy. This book is guaranteed to singe your eyelashes it’s so hot.


Tempting Tess

The blurb...

When forty-five year old widow, Tess Garrity decides it’s time to re-evaluate her very stale life, she rents a charming cabin in the mountains of Ruidoso, New Mexico to think things through, little expecting her entire life is about to take a drastic turn. Oh yeah, she’s very drawn and more than a little sexually turned on by the sinfully handsome man who lives next door.

Daniel Rios is captivated by the stunning older woman who is renting his cabin just next door. She is sweet, funny, and sexy enough to make him yearn to fuck her. He wants her more than his next breath but his first order of business is getting rid of an unwanted houseguest. For Daniel, it is mission accomplished as he moves in on Tess, tempting her to take another chance on love-with him. It’s a naughty, edgy, seductive challenge he is fully prepared to take.

The excerpt – be warned this is an adult excerpt

He was the hottest man she’d even seen. Jeff had been a handsome but rather ordinary man. Their life had been one of friendship and comfort. This moment with Daniel in the middle of the night was altogether different from anything she’d ever experienced before. Intimacy was ripe in the air and Tess wanted to shy away from it. She was afraid of what this man did to her. She’d been married to the same sweet, gentle man for years but she’d never felt the sheer magnetic pull that she felt with this stranger.
It scared her to death!
The cabin was shadowy, the lighting soft and it looked like Daniel would be here for the night. What on earth was she going to do with him?
Well, actually she could think of ten or twenty things she could do with him but, uh-uh, not going there. She wasn’t one of those aggressive women who could just walk up to a guy and say, oh, um, by the way, you’re the hottest, sexiest man I’ve ever met and I want your cock plunging into my pussy. Right fucking now! I want you to bang me into the mattress until my head threatens to explode. I want you to lick my cunt until I drown you in my cream.
Shit!

Terror zipped through her veins at all these crazy thoughts. She was a mother, for Christ’s sake. She was at least a dozen years older than this hot stud. He’d laugh his ass off if he only knew what she was thinking.
Drawing her control around her, Tess struggled to regulate her breathing and went to Daniel who stood looking down into the fireplace. Tiny sparks were catching the dry wood, burning it into a delicate, cool blue mingled with hot yellow. Shadows from the growing flames seemed to dance along his torso like a sensual touch. Flicking, teasing flesh that was bronze and hard and so very tempting.
Suddenly he looked over at her as she stood there holding a wine glass in each hand. His eyes were hotter than the fire he’d built. Tess stood motionless, unable to speak.
“I want you to know something,” he said. “I met Hillary a year ago. She was vacationing here with friends and I took her to bed. For some reason, she got it in her head that I wanted more. Wanted a relationship.”
“You didn’t.”
Daniel shook his head and made a sound of disgust. “Hardly. She’s not my type. Good for a one night stand but that’s about it with a woman like that. She’s a party girl and I’ve had my fill with it. Outgrown it. That’s not what my life is about anymore.”
Tess pressed a glass into his hand, sensing his need to talk. She was a good listener. Always had been. “You told me this evening that you’re a man, not a kid. You’re right about that.”
He speared her with a glance then took a sip of the chilled wine. “Got that right. I’m into women not girls.”
“I see.” Tess looked down into the fire, watched it catch and grow. Burning, fragrant and clean.
“I doubt you do. She showed up here unexpectedly, making demands, talking about a future.”
“What happened?”
Daniel shrugged. “I told her I wasn’t interested in something serious with her and that I wanted her to leave tomorrow morning. I mentioned I’d met someone else and she got pissed off and left. It’s a good thing. Right after I told her to leave, she grabbed my cock through my jeans. She started stroking me, tried to get me hot for her and I pushed her hand away. Everything can’t be solved through sex.”
“Some things can,” Tess whispered, almost to herself. Her gaze shot up when she realized she’d spoken the thought aloud.
His eyes narrowed then focused on her lips for a split second. “Tess.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “God! Dumb. I don’t know where that came from. “

Daniel took her glass and set it, along with his on the mantle. He turned to face her squarely. His hands, those marvelous hard hands, settled on her shoulders. A calloused thumb traced the exposed line of her collarbone and a shiver of awareness sank deep into her bones. “You can say anything to me. Anything at all. Ask me about the woman, Tess. Ask me about the woman I met. “
She drew in a shaky breath as expectation hummed in the air. She shouldn’t ask because she already knew the answer and this answer could land her in a world of heartache. She knew what he was going to say and a whip of fear mingled with anticipation lashed wildly through her body. It couldn’t be. Things like this didn’t happen to her. The flesh between her legs throbbed like mad, moisture pooled, thick and heavy in the crotch of her panties. Muscles, little used over the past few years, pulsed to life.
“Okay. Who is she, Daniel?”
“I told her I’d met you, Tess. I told her I’d met you.”

May I recommend, before I sashay over to the sofa with my wine, that may kill me, that you check out Anny and Kelly and the good folks blogs to the left. They are all amazingly talented.

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