Considering the title of this post, you might be expecting to read about the finer points of yoga. You’d be wrong, but quickly forgiven.
I did practice the pursuit for a while, but I can’t get my head around the mental side of it—while it’s supposed to be relaxing, for me, it often just ends up as stretching.
So, if you guessed yoga from the title—close, but no cigar. If you guessed it was about summer—well done, the cigar is yours. Not that I advocate smoking or anything, I just like sayings and phrases.
Yep, it’s all about saluting summer—my favourite season. Not just because it gives me an excuse to eat ice-cream, but also because I love the sun. Alas, I live in the UK, which is subject to at least one true stereotype (no, we’re not all evil villains with bad teeth who eat rubbish food). The rain, however, is true—we get it when we don’t want it and then we get none when the farmers need it!
However, we do get some lovely weather—yesterday, for example, London was beautiful—which is what I’m poised to welcome. I love the sun, which has a magical quality that makes everything brighter and better. So, not so much saluting the summer, but the sun itself as you never know what summer can bring.
If there is an equivalent of a rain dance for the sun, I’d be grateful if someone could teach me the moves. I’d even be willing to do a bit of yoga to salute the sun, if necessary.
Far cheaper than a flight abroad so any ideas welcome.
Life lessons can come along at the most unexpected times.
I was taking racquetball lessons from my instructor last week.
After I did my required hitting-for- accuracy drills, we moved into simulated play. (By that I mean, I served and we played. Unlike a real game, I kept retained serve even after I failed to return a ball.)
My coach is an exceptional player in his own right.
I hit a ball really well. (I wish I could say it was technique. It was luck, more than skill!)
My coach swung his racquet and missed the ball.
I was stunned.
But what stunned me most were the words that came out of his mouth. “Stupid ball.”
Stupid ball? I laughed.
It wasn’t until later that I realized I’d learned an important life lesson.
When I miss a ball, I say, “Stupid me. I can’t believe you missed that. Obviously you didn’t have your eye on the ball. How could you be so stupid?”
I thought about that more and more. Emotionally, a bad shot has to be easier to shake off if you think “stupid ball,” rather than “stupid me.” “Stupid ball” makes it easier to get back into the game, makes it easier to focus.
I can apply that philosophy to other areas of my life. Don’t get me wrong. I will continue to accept responsibility for my mistakes. But on things where I beat myself up needlessly with negative and defeating self-talk, I’m moving away from “stupid me,” and into “stupid ball.”
Hello, everyone! My name is Gwen Masters, and I am completely new to this great publisher, but not new to the erotica writing game. I've been hanging around the genre for fifteen years now. A few years ago I took some time off, but now I am back with a slew of new novels, including my upcoming release, A Week in the Snow.
So what's it about? Here's the blurb:
Rebecca is from hot, sunny Miami. When she drives up north in her little convertible to meet a man she met over the Internet, she doesn’t anticipate the Iowa snowstorms. It’s her first time driving in snow and it doesn’t end well – Rebecca winds up on the side of the road with little gas, no cell phone signal and snow drifts piling higher by the minute.
The roaring black snowmobile that comes along is carrying Richard, a man who lives a few miles down the road and just happens to see the flashy red paint of Rebecca’s stranded car through the haze of snow. Stuck at Richard’s house for almost a week, Rebecca feels trapped by circumstance. But soon she stops lamenting her position and instead starts to wonder about Richard’s bedroom down the hall, about the reasons he lives alone in the middle of nowhere, and whether she really wants to leave at all.
It is released on Monday, June 27. In celebration, here's an excerpt. Enjoy!
Richard drove them to the office, where the same young man was there to greet them. The coffee in the back room was piping hot and Richard poured two cups. Rebecca wandered over to the layout room as she shrugged out of her jacket. He watched her bend low over the old press and study it. Her shirt fit snugly into the waist of her jeans. Her hourglass profile was accentuated by a thin leather belt. When she arched her back to stretch, he watched as her breasts were thrown into sharp relief.If you want more, you can get it here.
Her nipples were hard under her shirt.
Richard stared at them as she moved. She must have known he was watching her, for sometimes she seemed to glance sidelong at him, but she never acknowledged him. She just moved among the things he was so familiar with, taking her time, and every now and then she would stand in such a way he could have sworn she was posing for him.
When she moved from his office area to the rooms that never got used anymore, the ones so crowded with the flotsam of days gone by that Richard mostly just kept the doors closed and ignored the mess, he grinned and followed her.
He closed the door behind them.
The room was pitch-black without the overhead light from the next room over. He could hear the slight rustling sounds Rebecca made as she moved carefully in the room, perhaps turning around to look at him, perhaps trying to feel her way back to him. Finally the movement stopped and her voice came, low and careful. “Does the door lock?”
Richard reached behind him, felt for the knob, and found no lock there. He had never thought to look for one before. “No.”
There was silence for a long moment. “Good.”
Richard waited to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, but there was no adjusting to be had. It really was dark as a tomb in there, and it smelled like one, too—musty paper, dusty computers tucked away in corners, wood that was a century old.
Richard took a few steps forward, feeling his way with his shins and his hands, hoping he would brush up against something rather than slam into it. He took his time, working towards where he had heard her voice. If he stood quietly for a moment, he could hear her breathing.
When he reached something hard, he wrapped his hand around it. It was wooden, and smooth—maybe part of a frame of some old machine, something that hadn’t been used in decades. He felt with his other hand and there she was, warm flesh under his palm.
He slid his hand down. And down.
She was naked.
Richard’s cock was instantly hard. What he couldn’t do in the glare of the sunlight was the one thing he couldn’t live without, here in the utter darkness. Using her body as a guide, he stepped behind her and realised she was bent over the old printing press, her hands outstretched, her bare ass waiting.
“Fuck me,” she whispered.
Richard pulled down his slacks. He listened for sounds from outside the door, any evidence of an interruption, but even as he listened he knew he didn’t give a damn. There was a warm and willing woman right in front of him, her pussy already wet, and what else mattered?
He slid in with one long, smooth thrust.
Rebecca arched her back, pushing on to him, and smiled in the darkness. He fit her perfectly, like a key to a lock. She spread her legs wider and bent low over the machine in front of her, the metal parts cold against her hard nipples, the smooth rubber parts slippery against her body. Richard’s hands were on her hips and he was pulling her back, fucking her hard, while she held on.
Richard rammed into her with all the force he had. She wanted a fuck, and she wanted it hard. She slammed back into him, giving as good as she got. His balls made a soft slapping sound with every thrust, and he grunted softly every time he pushed in.
Rebecca spread her legs wider, desperate to get him deeper. He bent his knees and fucked her with an upward angle, a new sensation that made her shake with the impending orgasm. He was touching something within her, something that was hard to reach, and she was afraid to move, lest the pleasure disappear. “Right there,” she whispered. “Right there, oh, God, don’t stop.”
Richard pumped in and out of her, nothing but his hips moving. He held her thighs hard with his hands when she started to squirm, not letting her move away from him, and not letting up. The metal rattled underneath her as she tightened her hands on it, pulling hard, the orgasm blossoming from the inside out.
Richard knew when she came. Though she didn’t make a sound, he felt the pulses of her cunt around him, both sucking at him and trying to push him out at the same time. He held very still inside her for a moment, enjoying the sensation. When he moved again it was to pump hard, straight in and out, now intent on making himself come, too.
When he did come, he had to bite his lip to keep from hollering.
He held inside her for as long as he could. Then he rubbed against her, spreading her wetness all over them both. She giggled at the slippery feeling, and he shushed her with a loud stage whisper. “Somebody will come back here and see you naked,” he warned.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
His cock twitched in response, making her laugh again.
Richard carefully pulled up his pants. He made his way back towards the door as Rebecca made herself somewhat presentable. When she gave the okay, he opened the door just a little, enough to let the light shine through, and looked at her.
Her hair was a mess, the way he loved to see it. Her cheeks were flushed. She gave him a wicked grin.
“I think I have ink on my tits,” she said.
Some months ago I received an alert in my inbox that I was under discussion on Goodreads. There is a whole A.J. Llewellyn thread (who knew?). I guess there is for every author, but the old adage proved true. Eavesdroppers never hear good about themselves. While most were complimentary, one reader, Cori, commented that she loved my "Honeybone" books but would have given me higher marks had it not been for the typos.
Typos, bloody typos.
I make plenty of them because I type fast and I just don't notice them.
Big Oops. Big frustration.
Cori and I exchanged very cordial messages on the loop and I took the blame for the typos because I often submit books very close to deadline. I can't blame my editors. I get a chance to re-read things.
Again...I just don't see 'em!
She offered to beta read for me and she has read a couple of books now and found some typos.
Typos, bloody typos.
I have a wonderful, dear friend in a fellow author who kindly reads everything D.J. Manly and I write, and frankly my dear, I always think when something has gone through a Final Line Edit it should be good to go, but no.....
Typos, bloody typos.
Somehow, they manage to sneak their way into my manuscripts. I swear, there is a typo fairy out there - somewhere - and she's got it in for me. She hates me!
What about you? Do you make typos? What was your worst? Do you notice them? What's the worst you've seen?
I've made too many to single out one.
Typos, bloody typos. I attract them like lint.
Well, it's been fun, but I'm turning over my posting day. I've become bogged down in writing, family, and a multitude of other things, so I'm paring down. I'll miss my regular posts at Hitting the Hot Spot, but the wonderful Ayla Ruse is taking over, so the blog is in good hands. *smile* To leave you with a fine feeling, here are a few pictures from my current sojourn in Bend, Oregon, where there is still snow in June. I took these photos just yesterday while wearing shorts and a tee-shirt--can you imagine?
Have a great summer, and happy reading!
In a gymnasium on a trampoline
In Santa’s sleigh in a Christmas display in the middle of a shopping mall
In a baseball dugout late at night
In a dumpster at Lackland Air Force Base during basic training
In the cold storage locker at Anderson AFB
Over an airport outside Chicago during a jump
In their neighbour’s kitchen while they were away
In an elevator, the back wall of which was glass, in a parking garage
On a galloping horse
On top of the fire engine with the Chief’s daughter
In an unused/uninstalled drainage pipe next to a busy road
On the catwalk that went across to a USS battleship
So anybody brave enough to share? What’s the most unusual place you’ve ever had sex? Leave a comment.
See you next month,
Tales to seduce and entice…
As some of you may know, I am the host of Total-E-Bound's blogtalk radio show www.blogtalkradio.com/total-e-talk I have been interviewing authors for the show for what will be two years in September! Wow can't believe its been that long! I love doing the author interviews it is so much fun to hear about other author's writing processes and how they come up with their ideas. Everyone is so different and there is no right way to write of course. Everyone does what works for them.
It’s a very necessary part of writing. But how do you research faeries? At the time I wrote Faery Seductive Escape, I was living in
If only I could’ve caught a leprechaun myself… That would've made my research so much simpler. But I did try. I chased more than one rainbow in my time in
So there ya go. I was living in the land of the faeries, but no one would talk about them and I couldn’t find one to save my life. Instead I turned to the inspiring country around me, read more than a few books I collected in my travels, and of course there’s always the internet. I took all that literary history that came before me and combined it with my own imagination and hopefully weaved an interesting story.
You can read more about my upcoming release at my website.
This is the stage I’m at right now as I get ready to write another book in one of my series. When I do this stage it always surprises me that I get drawn into the story again. Sometimes little things I put into the book shock even me. I guess it might be the distance from the book. The one I get between writing it, subbing it, taking a break from the series and then coming back to write the next. This is the good thing about having multiple series or other projects to work on. You can step away from a series and do something else.
Back to the book I am getting ready to work on. I’m back into the series and I’ve gotten that thrill for it. Excited about diving back into the series. Ideas of what to do with the book are flowing and it is all gelling together. I love this moment of rediscovering passion.
…increasing the sizzle factor
Chat Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/crenshawcafe
Free Reads Site: http://www.satinnotes.com/
By Lisabet Sarai
What's the naughtiest thing I've ever done? Given that this is the Hot Spot and we're encouraged titillate and tempt our loyal readers here, I thought this might be a promising topic for my monthly post.
Certainly, I could nominate a number of candidate scenarios. I've been fortunate, and brave (or perhaps foolhardy) enough to have engaged in a variety of outrageous behaviors during my wild years as a single woman (and a few since, too). It's difficult, though, to assign the superlative.
Was it making love on the floor of a church? My boyfriend and I were in a sleeping bag, true, but we were surrounded by a hundred other people. The church had opened its doors to some of the thousands of travelers who arrived in New Orleans to celebrate Mardi Gras but who didn't have a place to crash. The funny thing was, I don't remember even thinking about the others around us until afterward. So I guess that wasn't really all that naughty - the public nature of the situation didn't add to the spice, I just needed my lover.
How about having sex in the seat of a Greyhound bus? Same guy. We were students, and very much in love. Translate: we couldn't keep our hands off each other. We seized our opportunities where we could.
I've been fingered to orgasm in the parking lot of an airport. How does that rate on the naughtiness scale. I gave my boyfriend head on the battlements of a historic castle. What about that? (Same boyfriend as the church and the bus. I guess maybe we did have a thing about public sex, though he was as wholesome as the midwestern town he hailed from!)
There was the ménage with my husband and one of his oldest male friends. Now that was hot! I lusted after L. from the moment K. introduced us. The reality was at least as good as the fantasy. Not to mention the threesome we had with one of my oldest female friends. And the sex club. Can't forget that. Actually, my husband and I have visited Le Trapeze a number of times. You can even read about it in one of my past Hot Spot posts. I have to admit that felt pretty naughty, especially with my hands on another woman's breasts and her boyfriend crouched between my legs...
But maybe group sex has lost its shock appeal. With the number of ménage and more books coming out, perhaps it's viewed as old hat. So what about BDSM? I've been tied up, blind-folded, spanked, and whipped. I think the most extreme thing I've done in this realm, though, was to buy my own riding crop and give it to my master to use on me. He didn't instruct me to do this; it was my own notion. I found a store that sold actual equestrian supplies. I'll never forget how embarrassed and aroused I was, going in, surveying the crops available, and finally choosing and purchasing one. It was far more humiliating, and exciting, than going into a sex toy store (which I've certainly done) because only I knew (I hope!) what my plans were for the crop. For me, at least, the act of admitting to my master that I enjoyed kinky behavior, that I actually wanted to feel the leather slashing my flesh, is at least as hot as the actual act.
Like my tag line says, imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
As I reviewed my past exploits, though (a most enjoyable occupation!), I realized that the most transgressive act in my life was actually writing my first book, Raw Silk. The novel, a tale of one woman's odyssey to discover her sexual self and her true love, was a compendium of all my favorite erotic fantasies. Romance purists might not like it, because it features multiple partners and F/F sex, as well as sex in a variety of public places (a boat; a restaurant; a garden; historic ruins...), bondage, discipline, anal sex, M/M sex, sex with fruit, sex with vegetables, sex with furniture... The book climaxes in a scene where Kate's three lovers all compete to see who can give her the most pleasure. That's pretty naughty, I guess...
But what's really naughty, in retrospect, is the fact that I exposed all my lascivious dreams for anyone to read. Like most authors, I wrote my first book fueled by personal passion. It shows. I'm a far better writer, now, from a craft perspective, but Raw Silk might well be the hottest book I've written, because it draws so deeply on my own erotic impulses. In writing the book, I unmasked myself.
So now I want to know - if you dare to tell me - what's the naughtiest thing you've ever done?
Hello all, it's my turn at the helm again and today I'm going to share some photos from my holiday with you. I went to Scarborough last week. It's a seaside town on the east coast of England. It's my favouritist place in all the world and I have been there every year for a holiday since I was 5 or 6.
Obviously a place I love inspires my writing and I have a couple of stories that happen in Scarborough including Sweet Surrender.
She doesn’t know what she wants but he does.
How do you mend a broken heart?
Helen goes on holiday to Scarborough and meets Tom. He is an attractive local artist who takes Helen on a tour of the sweet seaside town. Tom becomes more than just her guide as his dominant nature brings out her own submissive side and a shared joy of exhibitionism.
Here are a few sites from my favourite seaside town, sites Helen may well have seen on her sexual discovery tour of the town.
Here is a view from the bridge near my hotel. Helen ends up in a hotel room in the same area of Scarborough and she gets a good long time to enjoy the view, she may well have looked out on a view similar to this one as she erm, hung around waiting for Tom to finish taking his photograph.
Isn't it a truly magnificent view? Look how blue that sea is too, we had beautiful sunny weather all week, we were really lucky as the weather was no where near as nice in other areas of the Country.
I made a new friend on my holiday, he was called Pete and he very kindly shared his grog with me. I have a habit of meeting pirates in Scarborough and as Tom waited patiently for Helen by the sea front he too saw one of the many pirates in the area. I bet he didn't get any grog from him, though. Not everyone has my charm and floral hat that I do. By the end of the afternoon we'd swapped tales, hats and erm, other things. ;)
On holiday I become somewhat of a big kid. I love to ride on the miniature railway and the open top bus and I eat Ice cream like it is going out of fashion. I cooed like a child when I saw the cute penguins and seals at the Sealife centre and loved feeding the sharks and wrays with my daughter there.
We also met a lovely Sea Turtle called Antiopi and she inspired me to make an amazing, fantastic, brilliant sand sculpture.
This is me and my mate Tommy. He is a Turtle in a fez because fezes are cool and I couldn't work out how to sculpt a bowtie (brownie points if you realise what the heck I am on about!) we had a very satisfying relationship for the whole two minutes he existed for before my daughter stomped on his head, Poor Tommy.
During Sweet Surrender neither Tom nor Helen build sand castles or sculptures on the beach but they do enjoy a walk along the seaside and below is an excerpt from a scene on the beach, I hope you enjoy it!
“Money doesn’t matter.”
She looked at him and he looked back, unblinking.
“So you have no money.”
“No, I have money,” he answered. “I just don’t really need it.”
“Your clothes are expensive,” she countered, desperate to get one up on him.
“Your camera is expensive.” She thought she had him there, and her face broke into a
smile of child-like gee.
“That is my livelihood. A man has to have something to live for.”
She harrumphed and turned away from him, frustrated that he’d made her look so stupid without even trying.
“Sorry.” His voice spoke beside her, his breath ruffling her hair.
She was startled as she felt his hand on her back, and saw his face bent in close to hers.
“I see things in black and white. I know it’s not always so straight forward.”
“S’ok.” She shrugged away from him. “I wasn’t upset.”
He wouldn’t move away from her despite her attempt, and soon she felt her side rubbing against the rough brickwork of the seawall.
“The way I see, you and me is straight forward. We have chemistry and I want to act
upon that. I want to lean forward and capture your lips and kiss you ‘til you can’t breathe,
and that is only the very beginning of what I want to do.”
She let out a shuddering breath. Taken completely off guard, her wanton body reacted
to the suggestions in his voice. She tilted her pelvis up to rub against his, and her hand, originally raised to push him away, landed passively on his shoulder, encouraging him.
“And I know, if I leant forward now, I could kiss you, and I could feel your body and I
could fuck you right here and right now.”
She wanted him, and she tightened her grip on his shirtsleeve, wanting to pull him in,
wanting him to fulfil all those sexy promises.
“But I won’t. I won’t until you ask me to. Do you want me to kiss you?”
His lips were so close to hers that she could already feel the force of the kiss. She nodded her head ever so slightly.
“Ask me,” he panted, obviously enflamed by the situation.
She could feel him pressing into her, his body that close to hers. She was aware of him so close, aware of her tingling pussy, now bare under her short summer skirt. She was aware of this crazy desire to push Tom down on his back and mount him then and there, taking her pleasure like a wild woman of loose morals. The desire spiralled as he shifted his body, his knee resting between her thighs, his breath on her neck, his arms around her waist. She shifted, shuffling her feet back, trying to escape the confines of his masculinity.
“Okay, they’re gone.” Tom smiled at her, planting a peck of a kiss on her lips.
“Stop it,” she snapped, angry at herself and her sluttish body for letting him go so far.
He shrugged and stepped back. Bending down, he pulled at the skimpy material hooked around her shoes.
“No!” she gasped.
But his tug threw her off balance and she slipped, back against the wall, one foot flying
up and her knickers coming loose. He gripped them in his hand and smiled up at her. Her
choice was between lifting her foot and letting him have her knickers or falling on her arse,
scrapping her back down the wall in the process. She lifted her foot.
She was horrified and aroused as he lifted the crimson satin to his nose, then slipped it
into his shirt pocket, letting the abundant material stick out of the top like a gentleman’s handkerchief."
You can pick up Sweet Surrender right now and escape into the world of sun, sea and kinky sex!
Six sexy authors of erotic romance are coming together with a fabulous giveaway this summer solstice! And entering couldn't be simpler.
Just visit each of our blogs beginning June 14th, and leave a comment on the contest post with:
* your name (or user name) and contact email, and
* your top two (2) choices from the author's backlist to kick-start your E-Reader library should you win.
Contest will close at Noon ET on Tuesday, June 21st, 2011, and a winner will be drawn at 1:16pm ET from all the readers who commented on all six blogs:
Gwendolyn Cease at gwendolyncease.blogspot.com
Suzanne Graham at suzannegraham.blogspot.com
Bronwyn Green at bronwyngreenblog.blogspot.com
Jessica Jarman at jessicajarman.blogspot.com
Kris Norris at krisnorris.blogspot.com
Devon Rhodes at devonrhodes.blogspot.com
The Grand Prize winner will receive their choice of a brand new Nook Wi Fi 3G OR Kindle 3G with Wi Fi *PLUS* two ebooks of their choice from each author!
Second Prize will be winner's choice of two ebooks from each author's backlist...that's 12 new books!
Third Prize will be winner's choice of one ebook from each author's backlist for a total of 6 books!
More surprises and prizes at each blog, so what are you waiting for? When summer hits its height, you could be the winner!!
* In order to be eligible for the drawing, you must leave a comment at each of the six blogs with your email address and choice of two books. We're sorry, but anyone who misses a blog or forgets to leave their contact info will be disqualified.
* All comments must be posted by 12:00 Noon, ET, on June 21st.
* Valid entry comments must be in response to the official Contest post on each blog, although we also welcome comments on other posts, so feel free to poke around!
* The E-Reader will be shipped to the winner's house. Ebooks will be emailed separately to the winner.
* Winner must respond to Jessica within three days or an alternate winner will be announced.
I do realize I don't have nearly as much water problem as some people. Flooding in some areas of the US are astounding, terrifying. So, I'm just not going to complain. Well, maybe just a little. See, when the warm weather hits, my husband begins to think about 'what can I do to make everyone's life hell?' I'm sure that's what he thinks.
So, I was sitting here, minding my own business when the darling man calls me out into the front room. We'd been talking about doing some major work in our back yard for quite some time. 7 years actually. We'd re-done the front yard and the side yard. But, the back yard had just been so daunting we'd shied away from it.
I guess my mentioning it a time or two had finally sunk in. He decided it was TIME! So, off he goes to the nearby trucking outfit where they have machines to move dirt, dig holes, bury rocks and tear out trees. Gulp. Darling hubby hires a fellow with this little tractor to come and do a little landscaping.
Now, we live on half an acre. Doesn't sound like a lot until you actually try to do something with it. Planting flowers could cost thousands. You can't just go buy a dozen annuals. That wouldn't even make a dent in prettying up the place. Plants of any kind... buy them so they'll be big and colorful...and make sure you buy things the deer don't like to eat.
Anyway, at the moment, my back yard looks a bit like a bomb went off. Where I used to have grass, there's now dry dirt. (Thank GOD it isn't due to rain for a few days) I'm hoping we can get a lot of it raked out so we can get some seed down. And rocks! I swear they multiply! We had the fellow dig a big hole and bury the last batch we found. He did it, but unearthed a dozen or ten more.
So, we're building raised beds, moving boulders and chasing the deer off the just raked areas. They seem to love to lay/roll in fresh raked soil. Oh, and the fawns will be showing up very soon, so we're trying to get as much done as we can so we don't chase them off. We both love seeing the tiny spotted beasties.
A little business now:
My book Doc has the most amazing cover art and I'm thrilled to announce it's up for the Alternate Reads Cover Award for June. I'd really appreciate it if you'd zip on over and cast your vote.
Here's the url: http://tjbook-list.blogspot.
So, once you're there, look on the right hand side and you'll see a list of the nominees. Doc is in there. But, if you prefer another cover, please don't feel you have to vote for mine. Vote with your heart.
Thanks so much!
I'm off to get some work done. A little writing first, then out to my raking. How's everyone else's spring chores coming along? Anyone doing any renovating or landscaping like we are? Anyone got any brilliant ideas on what to do with a man who thinks this is fun?