A plethora of nothing….

….I got nothing…zip, zilch, nada….’been writing sex all day. It’s a wonder I don’t go blind.

If you haven’t entered the Rowdy contest – check it out below – and take a crack at it...you may just win.

That’s it…naught to say… I'll be back tomorrow…be safe, be good or at least look like you are. You can fake a lot as we know…

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

Rowdy....

Let the pigeons loose! Rowdy is released today at Ellora’s Cave. To those who have asked me – yes, this is the follow on from Tantalizing Tilly but either can be read alone…and yes, you can click on the cover to buy...

The blurb…

Fate may have decreed for Agron Cardissan to crash into Rowdy Lawrence's world but that doesn't mean she has to like it. He is the last thing she wants and because of him she is also discovering needs she never imagined she possessed. Hot sex with the immortal guy is as good as it is bad for her.

Argon is enchanted by Rowdy and that she is less so of him is no deterrent. Making love to break down her reluctance is a challenge he cannot resist. He knows they are meant together. Rowdy's body is already his. She has his heart, now he wants hers. This love is forever.

But that's not the only problem they face. Zombies are roaming the streets and an old friend becomes a foe. The two star-crossed lovers must unite to save a city and to fulfill a prophecy. Who knew love could be so exhausting?

Contest…

The prize – one lucky person will win the lovely, kitsch water globe of Sydney Harbour. See below. I love things like this. What does it have to do with Rowdy? Absolutely nothing. I just like it – I bought one for myself. Added to this immortalization of Sydney in plastic – the winner gets an e-book copy of Rowdy.

The contest – very, very hard question…go to www.amarindajones.com and tell me the names of any two authors listed on the “links” page – then email me on amarinda_jones@yahoo.com.au. The first correct answer drawn at random will win the lovely prize. The contest closes Monday 23rd March at midnight EST USA time. Go for it.

www.amarindajones.com

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

The mysteries of life…

The Fall Girl is out sometime in November with Resplendence Publishing. It follows on from Taking the Fall. Interesting feedback on TTF - some people were upset at the ending...it was happy but it wasn't. I wasn't really surprised by this feedback. The ending was left so it would follow one of the male characters on. It's good to know people liked him enough to care what happened to him….hmmm…what does happen to James? Anyway - The Fall Girl follows the character of Jonties's best friend Tosh.

“When anyone asks me about the Irish character, I say look at the trees. Maimed, stark and misshapen, but ferociously tenacious” – Edna O’Brien

It’s St Patrick’s Day and like any country with a large Irish ancestry, we’ll celebrate in Australia. I’m descended from Kennedys, Mahoneys and Hempenstalls – it’s the last name that intrigues me and one relative in particular – actually the only known relative with that name – Jane – my great maternal grandmother. She has long since passed but Jane had a story that my mother and I tried to work out when we were in Ireland. Jane came from County Wexford. She’s an interesting lady by virtue of the fact that we know nothing about her other than the story she gave everyone when she landed in Australia in the 1800’s with a baby. The trip to Ireland told us nothing. I’m not even certain that was her real surname. Oh sure, it’s on documents but anyone back then could have plucked a name out of the air to hide who they were.

Anyway Jane arrived, unmarried, with a kid in tow, yet she told this amazing story about herself and a sea captain. Nah, I’m not going to give you all the specifics – and they’re pretty wild - as I will write her story one day but let me just say this…having kissed the Blarney Stone myself in Ireland, I am pretty damn certain Jane did as well. And of course now, a young woman with a baby and a story that you could shoot holes through is just par for the course but back then it would have taken a single woman guts to sail the ocean to a pretty wild country that was months away by sea. She had nerve and I have to admire her as she never faltered or fell apart – she just made what she could of her situation. She married John Boatwright and had a slew of kids. Unfortunately, like a lot of strong, adventurous people, she died young and no one, but maybe John knew the truth.

So here’s to the Kennedys, the Mahoney’s and particularly Jane Hempenstall – a woman of mystery I’m proud to be related to.

My fave comedian also happens to be Irish – check Dylan Moran out here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kUH34iqK7cI&feature=related

Winners….

Once more thank you for all the entries in the Pushing Fate contest. The winners - Maggie and Becky. Because Rowdy is released from Ellora’s Cave on Wednesday – busy, busy - I’ll have another contest – stay tuned for details.

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

Killer Curves ahead…

I am going out west again so I won’t be here Saturday. A couple of things....

- the Cover Gods at Ellora’s Cave have once again smiled on me with the cover for Rowdy. This book follows Tantalizing Tilly. What’s it about? Curses, immortal beings, zombies and greed…you know everyday stuff.
- next the winners of the contest are – Maithe and Susan. Thank you to all that entered. I was agog at the number of entries. It’s good to see so many avid readers out there.
- lastly - I am over at the Oh Get A Grip blog on Saturday – click here – talking about stuff. Take a squiz.

Most importantly, I leave you in the capable hands of Regina Carlysle. She has a brand new, hotter then hot release out now at Ellora’s Cave called Killer Curves. As always click on the cover to buy. But just for you the feisty dame from Texas was kind enough to give me a sneak preview. Enjoy.

Killer Curves by Regina Carlysle - warning - adult excerpt

After the death of her husband in a fiery crash, Carrie Martin Salem left the world of the racing circuit and retreated to Texas vowing to live a quiet and safe life. But old memories dig deep, leaving her longing for the friend she left behind. From the moment, J.T. Sims steps from the cab of his truck, Carrie knows it’s more than friendship she feels for the hottest racecar driver on Earth.

J.T. Sims never forgot the beautiful wife of his long-dead best friend. She’d had her time to grieve. She’d had years to pull herself together and now it was his turn, his time to reach out for the love he’s always wanted. His mission becomes convincing the pretty Texas lady that she’s strong enough to take what he’s offering. Nights of hot passion and days filled with love.
Her mouth felt like warm, wet silk sliding up the heavy length of his cock. What was her name? Was it Janie? Jill? Something like that? It pissed him off that he couldn’t remember. Must’ve been the liquor.

J.T. sprawled naked in the chair and looked down at her blonde head as it moved up and down, working him. That delicious mouth swallowed his length dragging a groan from his throat. He watched his fingers clench in her hair and lay his head back as the suctioning pull of her mouth devoured him with slow strokes.
This morning when he’d finally opened his eyes, he peered at the lush, naked stranger next to him and wondered what in the hell had possessed him.
Eying the half empty bottle of scotch near his elbow, he groaned. Yep. He knew the answer to that question. Too much whiskey and too many memories had propelled him toward the woman at last night’s party. They were always around and he’d been quick to make his selection from the bevy of groupies that showed up at this kind of thing.
He felt like a shithead for not recalling her name so he improvised. “That’s it, sweetheart. Suck my cock. Just like that. Ah, yeah, that’s goooood,” he finished on a husky moan.
A low hum rose up from her throat vibrating the head then she slipped her tongue against the slit at the end and flicked rapidly. “You’ve gotta be the ‘blow job’ queen, sweet thing,” he murmured. His balls drew up tight as the blonde groped at his sac, settled a thumb just beneath and pressed the throbbing nerve hidden there. Arching into her mouth, J.T. promised himself he’d make it up to her. The forgetting her name stuff.
It was bad of him and he only had the liquor to blame.
Despite the throbbing hangover that pulsed through his brain, the blow job was superb as she drew on his cock, milked him, stroked his tight aching balls. Almost there, he thought as her hand fisted at the base and flexed. Holy shit. “I’m coming. Hell, yeah, darlin’.”
She mewled, lapping against his hard flesh. She sucked and pulled.
J.T. felt the sensation rocket through his body, curling his toes against the Berber carpet on his living room floor. Tingles danced across his spine and over his scalp. His shout of release whipped through the air, drowning out the sound of the television in the background, shutting off his barely functioning brain for just a minute, sending him into oblivion.
When she sank against his thigh, he cupped her face and got a good look at her. Pretty, in a hard sort of way. Definitely suffering from a hangover if the bleary look in her blue eyes was any kind of indicator. Gently, he stroked a hand over her cheek and smiled.
“Hell of a way to wake up, darlin’.”
She smiled contentedly, licking her lips, as she flipped her long hair back over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the picture showing on the plasma TV hanging on the wall. “Hey! That’s you,” she said, pointing. She sighed. “God, J.T. you’re so fucking hot.”
Classic Speed was playing. J.T. flicked his gaze to the segment he’d seen a million times over the past three years. His heart thumped hard, crashing into his rib cage. He saw the familiar shot of Mark Salem and himself at the track in full gear. Smiling teammates gearing up for the time trial at the Miami 500. The ensuing chaos as Mark’s car slammed into a retaining wall at the track. The ball of flame, shouts. Carrie’s face, a mask of terror and grief as, Ted Dobbs, the crew chief held her to keep her from running toward the scene of destruction. All caught on film. Saved for posterity.
Carrie. Mark’s wife.
Jesus.
The sight of her threatened to bring him to his knees.
“I remember her,” the blonde said in a small voice. “She’s really pretty.”
“Yeah.” Pale hair, soft-looking. J.T.’s belly clenched.
“Some of the girls were talking about her the other night.”
He had to ask. “What were they saying?” He knew. Oh yeah, a guy didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure what a pack of groupies might have to say about Mark’s wife.
Naked, she stood bold as brass and shook her head. “Said she was as cold as ice in the sack and that’s why Mark took her to all the parties but always left with someone else.”
Mark had been an ass but J.T. kept it to himself. Any man who’d throw away a beautiful woman like Carrie would have to be blind and dumb as dirt. How many nights had he been witness to her embarrassment and hurt over Mark’s actions? How many nights, as the designated best friend, had he personally seen to it she’d gotten home? And every time, he’d stare into those sweet baby blues and wish she were his.
In one fluid motion, J.T. stood and reached for the jeans he’d discarded when the groupie he’d picked up the night before had sauntered naked into the room with the promise of easy sex. Suddenly, everything was just too much. The women. The booze. Trying to forget.
“Um…listen. It’s getting pretty late and I have to get some things done today,” he began, feeling like a lame ass.
“Yeah. That’s okay. I understand,” the woman said, turning toward the bedroom. “I need to be running along anyway.”
J.T. watched her go into the bedroom and spotted her purse on a chair near the foyer. Barefoot, he padded across the wide living room floor and plucked it up. Rummaging, he grunted when he found her driver’s license. He gave it a glance and tucked it away again. By the time, she came out, wearing last night’s little black dress, he felt more composed. “Last night was good, Jana. I enjoyed hanging out with you.”
Jana. Her name was Jana.
At least he was gentleman enough to address her properly after a night of wild, monkey sex and the best head he’d had in months.
She strolled up and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in. “Hey, what’s going on tonight? Want to get together? We could party.”
Hearing the sounds of racecars roaring in the background, he suddenly knew what he had to do. It was time to face that sweet little ghost from his past.
It was time to see if he still loved her more than any woman he’d ever known.
J.T. smiled and shook his head. “Can’t do it, honey. Listen, why don’t you write your number and address on that pad over there. I have to leave town and I’m not sure when I’ll be back. Maybe we can hook up again when I’ve finished my business.”
Like never.
But he wasn’t going to tell her that. He’d place a call to his florist and send her something. It was the least he could do.
Two hours later, he felt a little more human. A shower, shave and a handful of aspirin could do that for a guy. He placed a call to his personal assistant. “Hey, Dor, I need a favor. I’m going to be out of town for a few weeks. Want to hang out over here? Housesit for me?”
Doreen, who’d been taking care of him for years, laughed. “It’ll be like a vacation for me staying at your place. I’d do it for free but you’ll have to pay me anyway.”
He rattled off a list of things and disconnected, anxious to get on his way now that he’d made his plans. Grabbing his duffel bag, he headed through the monstrous house wondering how in the hell a poor boy from the sticks of North Carolina deserved something so fine. It was weird what people would spend their hard-earned money on and fortunately for him, they paid big bucks to see him drive fast. Very, very fast.
Heading into the five car garage, his gaze skipped past the Aston Martin and the Porsche Carrera GT. Nope, the custom Harley wouldn’t do either. Decided, he tossed his duffel into the bed of his Dodge Ram double cab and climbed behind the wheel.
The silver bullet wasn’t built for speed but it was comfortable and inconspicuous. He didn’t want to deal with fans on this trip so it was best to keep things on the down-low. Low profile all the way.
J.T. Sims, former NexTrac Cup Rookie of the Year, former best friend of the world famous, now dead, Mark Salem didn’t want anything to distract him from his purpose. He was headed to the Texas Hill Country and a certain beautiful blue-eyed blonde.
He’d put off this confrontation far too long. It was time. Long past time he looked her straight in those gorgeous eyes and told her he loved her. She’d say it back, too. Eventually.
J.T. wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Gotta love a man like that….

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

Identify me….

I was talking to another Aussie author about whether readers read books set in Australia. My answer - yes. All my books except one are set in my home town of Brisbane. I do some terrible things to Brizzie yet the Tourism bureau hasn’t arced up yet. Arced up = angry. Anyway, I follow the advice of ‘write what you know.’ I am not saying everyone has to do it. And, I am not sure if anyone really has first hand experience with vamps and werewolves – but I would love to know. I just personally believe there has to be a common thread within a book that is based purely on author experience. I also believe anyone can write a book if they have the determination to do it. No published writer I know, myself included, is any more special than anyone else out there.

Australia – I love it. I have travelled around the world. It was one of the best experiences of my life working and travelling. But in saying that, I do not believe I could not easily successfully write a book set in another country with a non Aussie characters. I am Australian. I speak Aussie. You and I both know you cannot be something you are not. Sure, Maid For Death was set in London. I worked for several years in the UK doing the usual stuff young travellers do – pub work, waitressing and doing the chambermaid gig. The character in Maid is an Aussie working in a hotel. I have had experience of that so I believe I can justify writing that. I think it would be bloody hard to step into the shoes of another nationality and try to write.

Yes, we are all human being but the thing is we are all so culturally diverse. That’s a good thing.
How boring would it be if we all spoke and thought alike? From my own personal experience Aussies think differently to other countries. No, we are no better or worse than anyone else but we have a different manner and attitude. I’m not sure anyone non Aussie could effectively write that. You know when you look at Crocodile Dundee – excellent movie – number one that is – the rest were not – many of the characters in that are true blue Aussie you could meet any day walking down the street or at work. However it’s also, as you know, exaggerated to catch the imagination of people not familiar with Australia – Aussies can see that – others may not.

So…where was I? Oh yes, I believe books that you read show the author's life experience. I am not an American but I have American friends. There are subtle nuances of behaviour and speech that I could never copy and come across as a genuine American. You would know it was false and I believe readers would know that.

And yes, I do believe books on Australia sell. Why? Could be the fact that we are a fantastic country with amazing people. Or the fact that people like to read of countries foreign to them. Who knows? What do you think?

Got a couple of contracts…always nice to know people don’t think you suck completely. One is the follow on from Tantalizing Tilly called Rowdy. What’s it about? Basically a woman is haunted by the words of a curse. The other book is The Fall Girl…it’s the follow on from Taking the Fall…and it’s to do with things out of your control and how you deal with them. Don’t we all know about that?

Here's a sneak peak at Taking the Fall - ménage that comes out on October 3 or 6…hmm…one of those dates and I’ll find it - through Resplendence Publishing….

“Um… h-hi.” Smooth Jontie.
“Hi yourself,” he responded with a grin.
“Are you a friend of the bride or groom?” The weather was her next topic of conversation if that failed. I suck at this.
“Neither. I’m a gatecrasher.” He looked pleased by something. “You?”
“Er─a friend of the bride.” God he smells good. Jontie wondered if his skin would taste as delicious. “She’s too good for him.”
“Generally most women are so much better than the groom.” He stated it matter of fact. “How long do you think the marriage will last?”
“Two and a half months.”
“Exactly?” He smiled widely at her prediction.
I hope our kids have his smile. Jontie mentally slapped herself. Get a grip. “Yeah, they’ll get over the married person sex thing, and the first bills from this virginal extravaganza will come in, and it will all fall to pieces.” Three of her friends recently married, and two of those were on the rocks already.
He nodded his head as he looked around the room. “There is a lot of white.”
“The bride felt she was entitled.”
“Was she?”
“Oh, hell no. She is about as virginal as I am a natural blonde.” Jontie liked the way he laughed. It was smooth and rich, and it reminded her of the taste of warm, gooey chocolate on her tongue. It also had the ability to make her relax slightly in the presence of raw male beauty. “So did you gatecrash for the free food? The fake calypso band? The doves that crapped on the bridal party when they were released?”
“Oh yeah, that was fun to watch.” He grinned, his eyes never leaving hers. “However, I came for you.” He picked up her hand and enfolded it in his own.

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