Thursday, May 31, 2007
Haven't I whined about this before?
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Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Where I go to make the magic happen...
Probably more appropriately titled, 'whenever and wherever I can steal the time/place to write'.
I have three kids. I didn't two years ago, but meeting and marrying the man of my dreams has certain privileges (my two full time stepdaughters) and challenges (my two full time stepdaughters). In addition to my own 3 year old, we've got a full house and all the writing challenges that implies.
So basically, my workspace is the kitchen table if I can keep 3 from running his cars along the top. Or the island in the kitchen if I can't. (The kitchen offers a good view of the living room and the kids' rooms so I can keep watch at all times because 8 and 12 require watching to make sure they don't do girlish injury to each other. One's a tomboy, one's a princess with a mean right hook, lol.).
Now, if the older ones are at school and 3 decides to nap, then I occasionally get to prop my feet up on the daybed in my guest room/office and create from there. Or if that's not happening because of the construction across the street, I might end up on the couch or by the fireplace in the winter months.
Or, if I'm lucky, in the shade by the pool in the summer months. My hubby hates it when I take work with me on vacation...unless I'm writing a sex scene and then he loves that I took work with me on vacation and tries to lure me into abandoned pool houses, *g*.
The best and worst part of my work is that I'm portable. And that I always think I can squeeze in a few words, even if the only safe place I can find to sit my laptop is on top of the kitchen cabinets while I watch the chaos run by beneath, lol.
Where do you work?
Anna J. Evans
I have three kids. I didn't two years ago, but meeting and marrying the man of my dreams has certain privileges (my two full time stepdaughters) and challenges (my two full time stepdaughters). In addition to my own 3 year old, we've got a full house and all the writing challenges that implies.
So basically, my workspace is the kitchen table if I can keep 3 from running his cars along the top. Or the island in the kitchen if I can't. (The kitchen offers a good view of the living room and the kids' rooms so I can keep watch at all times because 8 and 12 require watching to make sure they don't do girlish injury to each other. One's a tomboy, one's a princess with a mean right hook, lol.).
Now, if the older ones are at school and 3 decides to nap, then I occasionally get to prop my feet up on the daybed in my guest room/office and create from there. Or if that's not happening because of the construction across the street, I might end up on the couch or by the fireplace in the winter months.
Or, if I'm lucky, in the shade by the pool in the summer months. My hubby hates it when I take work with me on vacation...unless I'm writing a sex scene and then he loves that I took work with me on vacation and tries to lure me into abandoned pool houses, *g*.
The best and worst part of my work is that I'm portable. And that I always think I can squeeze in a few words, even if the only safe place I can find to sit my laptop is on top of the kitchen cabinets while I watch the chaos run by beneath, lol.
Where do you work?
Anna J. Evans
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
I was going to post a picture...
...but my desk is still a mess. It's piled with papers I either need to file or shred. I like my desk for writing because I've gotten used to sitting at a computer when I'm writing. Even when I'm using my PDA and portable keyboard, I need to be at a table. I put my earphones on and set my iPod to my "JustMusic" playlist and put my mind to writing. My desk sits in a corner of the living room of my apartment, unfortunately within easy reach of the TV. Heck, my computer is continuously connected to the Internet, another perpetual distraction. Unlike Sherrill, I don't have a second bedroom to turn into an office (though I'd *love* one). At least my desk is out of my bedroom which was my previous living arrangement.
While I do my writing at my desk, the majority of my ideas come to me either in the shower or as I'm falling asleep. Sometimes I remember to keep a pad of paper and pen on hand by my bed, but only rarely. What I'd love to find is something I could write notes on in the shower. Anyone have any ideas?
While I do my writing at my desk, the majority of my ideas come to me either in the shower or as I'm falling asleep. Sometimes I remember to keep a pad of paper and pen on hand by my bed, but only rarely. What I'd love to find is something I could write notes on in the shower. Anyone have any ideas?
Monday, May 28, 2007
Where I Write
I live in a two-bedroom casita (about 900 square feet) with a small but private back yard. The second bedroom is set up as my home office, with a small desk, computer, a fairly comfortable chair and three bookcases overflowing with books. Reference books at my fingertips, plus lots and lots of fiction.
You'd think that'd be where I park my butt to write, wouldn't you?
It isn't. I do better with my feet up, so I'm usually in the living room on either my recliner or the sofa, laptop perched on a lapdesk on my thighs. Most times I have the TV on but, if I really need to concentrate on a particularly difficult scene, I'll tune the TV to the classical station on Music Choice. And if it's not too hot outside, I take the laptop out to my patio and work there--even my patio chairs have ottomans so I can put my feet up!
As long as I have a mongo glass of iced tea, I'm all set.
Nothin' glamorous 'bout me!
If you're here in the States, enjoy your Memorial Day. Otherwise, happy Monday!
You'd think that'd be where I park my butt to write, wouldn't you?
It isn't. I do better with my feet up, so I'm usually in the living room on either my recliner or the sofa, laptop perched on a lapdesk on my thighs. Most times I have the TV on but, if I really need to concentrate on a particularly difficult scene, I'll tune the TV to the classical station on Music Choice. And if it's not too hot outside, I take the laptop out to my patio and work there--even my patio chairs have ottomans so I can put my feet up!
As long as I have a mongo glass of iced tea, I'm all set.
Nothin' glamorous 'bout me!
If you're here in the States, enjoy your Memorial Day. Otherwise, happy Monday!
Friday, May 25, 2007
What's in a Name...
(Yes, this is x-posted from my personal blog, because A, I thought it was important; B, I don't have anything to plug until July; and C, I'm very lazy.)
I'm pretty sure all of you know that "December Quinn" is not my real name. Because it's not. I love it, I answer to it, I'm used by now to being called it. But it's not my real name, it's a name I created specifically for my erotic books. For a number of reasons which I'm sure I don't need to detail, I decided that keeping my identity rather more secret while writing primarily about people having sex in a variety of positions, places, and orifices, no matter how romantic the story may ultimately be, was a good idea.
My real name has other distinct disadvantages. I've never particularly liked it, for one. My married last name has an unfortunate similarity to a vulgar word (all it takes is one lazy vowel sound) which again, if you're writing erotic, you want to avoid that. Plus, and this is rather more personal, not long after moving to the UK my husband fell out with his father, for reasons too complex to go into here, and they haven't spoken in about a year. Suffice it to say that my husband has never particularly cared for having that man's name--he's thought of changing it for 25 years--and we don't want to anymore.
So we're changing our name. And the reason this matters to you is, we're changing it to the last name of my new "other psuedonym"" Stacia Kane.
And the other pseudonym is news to you because it is the name under which Juno Books will be publishing Personal Demons early next year as a mass market paperback!!
So although legally my name is not yet Stacia Kane, it will be (okay, I'll probably keep my actual first name, which is Stacey. But "Stacey Kane" was already taken as a domain name, and I've always liked Stacia a little bit more, although it still doesn't thrill me. But it sounds good with Kane, and the hubs and I are sold on Kane.)
Nothing changes here, although I may add "Stacia Kane" to the title of the blog, because when the new SK site is up and running I'll simply direct that blog here as well. The name change is simply for branding purposes; I want people to know that when they pick up a DQ book they're getting HEA romance with (most likely) lots of sex; when they pick up an SK book they may get a more ambiguous ending with less focus on romance and less sex (though they'll get some sex either way, never fear. There's what I think is a cracking hot sex scene in Personal Demons and there will be more in future books too.) Hopefully they'll like both. I don't think the voice is all that different, just the subject matter and focus.
So there you go.
Wheeee! I sold my urban fantasy!!!
I'm pretty sure all of you know that "December Quinn" is not my real name. Because it's not. I love it, I answer to it, I'm used by now to being called it. But it's not my real name, it's a name I created specifically for my erotic books. For a number of reasons which I'm sure I don't need to detail, I decided that keeping my identity rather more secret while writing primarily about people having sex in a variety of positions, places, and orifices, no matter how romantic the story may ultimately be, was a good idea.
My real name has other distinct disadvantages. I've never particularly liked it, for one. My married last name has an unfortunate similarity to a vulgar word (all it takes is one lazy vowel sound) which again, if you're writing erotic, you want to avoid that. Plus, and this is rather more personal, not long after moving to the UK my husband fell out with his father, for reasons too complex to go into here, and they haven't spoken in about a year. Suffice it to say that my husband has never particularly cared for having that man's name--he's thought of changing it for 25 years--and we don't want to anymore.
So we're changing our name. And the reason this matters to you is, we're changing it to the last name of my new "other psuedonym"" Stacia Kane.
And the other pseudonym is news to you because it is the name under which Juno Books will be publishing Personal Demons early next year as a mass market paperback!!
So although legally my name is not yet Stacia Kane, it will be (okay, I'll probably keep my actual first name, which is Stacey. But "Stacey Kane" was already taken as a domain name, and I've always liked Stacia a little bit more, although it still doesn't thrill me. But it sounds good with Kane, and the hubs and I are sold on Kane.)
Nothing changes here, although I may add "Stacia Kane" to the title of the blog, because when the new SK site is up and running I'll simply direct that blog here as well. The name change is simply for branding purposes; I want people to know that when they pick up a DQ book they're getting HEA romance with (most likely) lots of sex; when they pick up an SK book they may get a more ambiguous ending with less focus on romance and less sex (though they'll get some sex either way, never fear. There's what I think is a cracking hot sex scene in Personal Demons and there will be more in future books too.) Hopefully they'll like both. I don't think the voice is all that different, just the subject matter and focus.
So there you go.
Wheeee! I sold my urban fantasy!!!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
New release and excerpt!!!
YAAAAY!!! It's out! WOLF BOUND is here!!! And to celebrate, I've got a brand-new excerpt for you!
Wolf Bound's the only book I've ever had that has TWO covers, LOL! The first is my official cover, by the incomparable Karen Foxx, who really nailed what Wolf looks like to me. The second was done by the wonderful Tuesday Dube, who was "just feeling inspired"! Tuesday, I love it, and thank you so much -- and everybody, Tuesday's got a website at www.dreaminginpurple.net, where she'll be posting more of her stuff -- check it out!
Jenna knows romance -- she should; it’s what she writes for a living. But why can’t love ever be as simple and magical as the stories she creates? When her latest book sells for a huge advance, Klaus, her lover, becomes threatened by her success, and strands her on a ski slope during a vacation in the Canadian Rockies.
Hiking down, Jenna becomes lost in a blizzard, and wakes to find herself in a snowed-in cave, rescued from death by an enigmatic lone wolf. When the wolf transforms before her eyes into a naked, stunningly sexy man, Jenna finds herself in a romance hotter and more fantastic than any bestseller she's ever written!
But she can’t possibly survive in Wolf’s vast, untamed world, any more than he could join her in hers. Now Jenna is faced with a bitter dilemma: if she stays, she’ll be putting his life at risk. If she leaves, it’s his heart she’ll be destroying…
EXCERPT
What would happen, if the helicopter came back tonight? Right now? If Klaus found her here, curled in Wolf’s arms? How much would Wolf understand? Would he simply see Klaus as a threat to her, Jenna? What if he…
Jenna swallowed against the sudden ice in her gut. What if he changed?
She glanced toward the cave’s entrance, suddenly terrified she’d hear the sound of beating rotors, see searchlights stabbing down across the plain outside…
“Wolf.” She shook his shoulder gently, then harder. “Wolf!”
He blinked awake, grumbling, then rose and went to the fire. She could hear the rustle of leaves, the snap of small twigs, then a strange, rhythmic scraping sound. Sparks bloomed in the darkness, flickered, went out.
Rolling onto her side, Jenna watched as he scraped two rocks together. This time, the sparks dropped into the tinder, and he blew on it gently, teasing the sparks into flame.
So that’s how he does it. With the -- oh, I should know what that is. I’ve read about it…
She’d read about werewolves too, and seen movies. Who hadn’t? But Wolf was nothing like the depictions she’d seen, any more than Young Guns bore any resemblance to the true Wild West.
“Wolf?”
He looked at her, smiling, and Jenna tried to keep the urgency from her voice. “Wolf, how do you change? I mean, when you --” God! This was difficult. How could she even ask what she needed to know? “Does anything, you know, make you change? Or do you just…”
He glanced at her quizzically, then rolled to his feet. Suddenly, with a ripple of motion, the wolf was standing before her, his yellow eyes gleaming. Then he was gone, and it was Wolf who stood there, his bent head brushing the roof of the cave. He squatted again and shrugged his broad shoulders.
“So you just choose to do it?” Relief flooded through her, and she threw herself at him, laughing happily. He grinned as her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Oh, Wolf! You could come with me! You could be human all the time!”
She felt his shoulders stiffen, and Jenna paused, drawing back enough to look into his strong, handsome face. His grin was gone.
“Wolf? Couldn’t you?”
His eyes, studying her, were suddenly dark. He nodded, but his face looked grim.
Jenna shook her head, confused. “But we could… We could be together. Don’t you see?”
Slowly, he unwrapped her arms from his neck. “Enna,” he said. “Enna, I…”
He broke off in frustration, his heavy sigh almost a growl. He shook his head sharply, then reached out, taking her hand between his and raising it to his chest. Placing it flat against the swell of his pecs, he whispered, “Enna.” His eyes were haunted as he gazed at her. Beneath her palm, she could feel the thudding of his great heart. Then he started to change under her hand.
The sensation was almost like sand trickling through her fingers -- only instead of sand, it was flesh and fur, shifting under her grip like mist. “Wolf!” she cried, trying to grasp him, to hold him. “Wolf, no!” But he slipped from her hands and slid out of the cave. Throwing herself after him, Jenna screamed, “Wolf!”
Moonlight poured down, flooding the plain. It glimmered in the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes, and through their blur she saw Wolf racing across the snow, a gray, sleek shadow beneath crystal-white mountains, so beautiful, so graceful, so impossibly free…
“Oh, Wolf,” she whispered, letting the tears cascade down her cheeks. “Wolf, I love you.”
What would happen, if the helicopter came back tonight? Right now? If Klaus found her here, curled in Wolf’s arms? How much would Wolf understand? Would he simply see Klaus as a threat to her, Jenna? What if he…
Jenna swallowed against the sudden ice in her gut. What if he changed?
She glanced toward the cave’s entrance, suddenly terrified she’d hear the sound of beating rotors, see searchlights stabbing down across the plain outside…
“Wolf.” She shook his shoulder gently, then harder. “Wolf!”
He blinked awake, grumbling, then rose and went to the fire. She could hear the rustle of leaves, the snap of small twigs, then a strange, rhythmic scraping sound. Sparks bloomed in the darkness, flickered, went out.
Rolling onto her side, Jenna watched as he scraped two rocks together. This time, the sparks dropped into the tinder, and he blew on it gently, teasing the sparks into flame.
So that’s how he does it. With the -- oh, I should know what that is. I’ve read about it…
She’d read about werewolves too, and seen movies. Who hadn’t? But Wolf was nothing like the depictions she’d seen, any more than Young Guns bore any resemblance to the true Wild West.
“Wolf?”
He looked at her, smiling, and Jenna tried to keep the urgency from her voice. “Wolf, how do you change? I mean, when you --” God! This was difficult. How could she even ask what she needed to know? “Does anything, you know, make you change? Or do you just…”
He glanced at her quizzically, then rolled to his feet. Suddenly, with a ripple of motion, the wolf was standing before her, his yellow eyes gleaming. Then he was gone, and it was Wolf who stood there, his bent head brushing the roof of the cave. He squatted again and shrugged his broad shoulders.
“So you just choose to do it?” Relief flooded through her, and she threw herself at him, laughing happily. He grinned as her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “Oh, Wolf! You could come with me! You could be human all the time!”
She felt his shoulders stiffen, and Jenna paused, drawing back enough to look into his strong, handsome face. His grin was gone.
“Wolf? Couldn’t you?”
His eyes, studying her, were suddenly dark. He nodded, but his face looked grim.
Jenna shook her head, confused. “But we could… We could be together. Don’t you see?”
Slowly, he unwrapped her arms from his neck. “Enna,” he said. “Enna, I…”
He broke off in frustration, his heavy sigh almost a growl. He shook his head sharply, then reached out, taking her hand between his and raising it to his chest. Placing it flat against the swell of his pecs, he whispered, “Enna.” His eyes were haunted as he gazed at her. Beneath her palm, she could feel the thudding of his great heart. Then he started to change under her hand.
The sensation was almost like sand trickling through her fingers -- only instead of sand, it was flesh and fur, shifting under her grip like mist. “Wolf!” she cried, trying to grasp him, to hold him. “Wolf, no!” But he slipped from her hands and slid out of the cave. Throwing herself after him, Jenna screamed, “Wolf!”
Moonlight poured down, flooding the plain. It glimmered in the tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes, and through their blur she saw Wolf racing across the snow, a gray, sleek shadow beneath crystal-white mountains, so beautiful, so graceful, so impossibly free…
“Oh, Wolf,” she whispered, letting the tears cascade down her cheeks. “Wolf, I love you.”
Here's the link!
http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=606
I hope you enjoy Wolf Bound -- I have to admit, I love it!
-- Sierra
http://changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=606
I hope you enjoy Wolf Bound -- I have to admit, I love it!
-- Sierra
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Release Today! Excerpt two in excerpt-palooza
Three blogs, three excerpts, three chances to preview the life-changing read that is--"Seducing the Enemy"....
Okay, maybe not life-changing, but...I think you'll enjoy it. This is excerpt 2 (in order of heat and story progression). For excerpt 1 hit my blog, and for excerpt 3, head over to the Nightwhispers blog.
Thanks for reading!! Hugs and happy Wednesday!
Anna J. Evans
Seducing the Enemy
By Anna J. Evans
Naughty Nuptials Quickie
Available May 23 2007
Ellora's Cave
Link: http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=AJE
![[image]](http://i20.photobucket.com/albums/b242/staceyiglesias/SeducingtheEnemy_sm.jpg)
BLURB:
Astrid escapes the planet where her tribeswomen have been exiled, determined to find Prince Jorunn and force him to fufill an ancient prophecy--the one that fortells of their marriage and the savior of Astrid's people. She's going to kidnap the man and handfast with him, no matter what he has to say about it, and no matter how much she longs for love and a true marriage of the heart.
The last thing she expects is that she'll find the man of her dreams while seducing the enemy.
EXCERPT:
He could have her, right here in the bar, if he so desired. Here in the shadows, a man could get his cock serviced, by mouth or cunt, any time of day or night as long as he and his juicy girl kept the noise at a respectable level. Not many bar patrons had the cash to rent a room, but the owners of these places knew that women were as good a lure as any when it came to drawing in customers. They and the other patrons would turn a blind eye, and he could be buried balls-deep in her sweet little pussy in less than ten seconds.
And her pussy would be sweet, he had no doubt about that.
“I’m not buying tonight. You’re wasting your time,” he said, turning his eyes to scan the bar. If he kept looking into those liquid blue-gray eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation much longer.
“I don’t understand. I have nothing for sale,” she said, her tone frustrated as well as…something else. Desperate? Why would such a woman be so anxious to score a client?
She was beautiful, stunning enough to engage dozens of men a night. In fact, she was almost too beautiful. Even if she came from one of the less socially desirable tribes, this one should have been able to find a man to handfast with her. She should never have made it to such a low place, forced to earn her living by men’s use of her body.
“What’s your name?” Jorunn asked. There was something off here, something that alerted his fine-tuned survival instincts. The traces of moon dust left behind at the sword’s resting place had been a perfect match to Moon Three, but the way the dust had been so carelessly strewn about the crypt had made him wary from the start.
It was too easy, too sloppy for a criminal capable of slipping past his father’s guards and gaining entrance to the crypt in the first place.
“Astrid. My name is Astrid.”
“Astrid. A beautiful name, and a beautiful woman.” Jorunn spoke the words slowly as he scanned Astrid’s small frame. The blue fabric wasn’t cloth at all, but some sort of animal scales, not anything like the women’s clothing he’d seen for sale in the system’s many shopping satellites.
She was most likely a citizen of one of the more rural planets where they still made their own coverings, which only increased his suspicion. Women from the outer reaches rarely made it to the Endelvean regions. Their men were fiercely territorial and prostitution was illegal on all of those planets. No woman was allowed to go unmated, no matter what her social status, especially not one as stunning and fertile-looking as this one.
“And what is your name?” she asked, a frown twitching at her lips even as her cheeks blushed bright red.
“You don’t enjoy having your beauty praised?” he asked, ignoring her question. She had to know who he was. His father had distributed the announcements of his impending coronation over every settlement in the realm. They might not have holographic posting boards where she was from, but he wouldn’t be surprised if his father had demanded his image plastered on the milking towers and grain-storing sheds.
“Beauty is passing, strength is what matters.” She stepped closer, not showing any response to the stink that surrounded him.
“I’ve never underestimated the strength of the female of the species,” he said, as he casually gave the three-fingered signal that would tell a true juicy girl that he was ready to engage her services. If she didn’t respond, he’d know that his suspicions were founded, if she did…well, then he supposed he’d have to follow through and fuck her.
“Wonderful. Then would you like to come with me to my ship?”
“To your ship? You prefer I take you there? I won’t pay a bed rental fee,” Jorunn warned. Her response seemed to indicate that she was ready to accept his signal, but he’d never heard of a prostitute who owned her own ship. Perhaps he should take things a little further with Astrid, simply to make sure they understood one another. “In fact, I’m not sure I want you lying down.”
Her eyes grew wide as he looped one arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, spinning them until her back pressed against the wall. “What if I prefer to stay in the bar?”
“Well, I…wouldn’t…” Her words trailed off into silence as he ran one hand casually along the delicate column of her neck, and down to where her dress dipped low between her breasts. He traced the line of her garment, teasing over each full swell, until her breath came faster and her eyes fluttered closed. Only then did he tug at the fabric, causing her breasts to spill out the top.
She gasped and her eyes flew open. “Wait, I—”
“You would rather end the engagement now?” Jorunn tried to fix his attention on reading her expression, but it was impossible to keep his eyes above her neck. Her breasts were exquisite, two ripe mounds topped by dusky nipples that practically begged to be suckled into his mouth. His mouth watered at the thought and his cock responded in kind, beginning to leak with excitement.
“No,” she whispered, her nipples tightening under his gaze
Gods, he wanted to bed this woman, and he wanted to do it properly, not here with a hundred eyes on them. And eyes were on them. Half the bar had grown silent as men became aware of the show taking place against the far wall. This wasn’t what he’d intended. He’d planned to lay low, to do his best not to attract attention. But now that he’d started with Astrid, he couldn’t seem to stop.
“So you’d let me touch you, take you, right here? If I chose?” He cupped one breast in his hand and ran a thumb over the erect tip. Astrid shivered, her eyes sliding closed as she nodded her head in affirmation.
“Yes?” he asked, moving both hands to her chest and rolling her tight nipples between his fingers. Her show of desire seemed utterly free of affectation. Either she was a consummate actress, or Astrid was truly aroused by what they were doing.
Maybe that’s why she’d become a juicy girl in the first place—maybe she actually enjoyed fucking strange men in public. There was one way to find out…
He dropped one hand and slid it up the inside of her thigh, nearly groaning as a trail of wet heat meet his fingers before he’d even reached her sex. She was drenched, sufficiently ready for him to turn her around, lift her dress, and ram into her sweet depths. Or perhaps, considering her height, it would work better between them if he hitched her up around his waist and fucked her against the wall.
Okay, maybe not life-changing, but...I think you'll enjoy it. This is excerpt 2 (in order of heat and story progression). For excerpt 1 hit my blog, and for excerpt 3, head over to the Nightwhispers blog.
Thanks for reading!! Hugs and happy Wednesday!
Anna J. Evans
Seducing the Enemy
By Anna J. Evans
Naughty Nuptials Quickie
Available May 23 2007
Ellora's Cave
Link: http://www.ellorascave.com/AuthorsBooks.asp?AuthorCode=AJE
BLURB:
Astrid escapes the planet where her tribeswomen have been exiled, determined to find Prince Jorunn and force him to fufill an ancient prophecy--the one that fortells of their marriage and the savior of Astrid's people. She's going to kidnap the man and handfast with him, no matter what he has to say about it, and no matter how much she longs for love and a true marriage of the heart.
The last thing she expects is that she'll find the man of her dreams while seducing the enemy.
EXCERPT:
He could have her, right here in the bar, if he so desired. Here in the shadows, a man could get his cock serviced, by mouth or cunt, any time of day or night as long as he and his juicy girl kept the noise at a respectable level. Not many bar patrons had the cash to rent a room, but the owners of these places knew that women were as good a lure as any when it came to drawing in customers. They and the other patrons would turn a blind eye, and he could be buried balls-deep in her sweet little pussy in less than ten seconds.
And her pussy would be sweet, he had no doubt about that.
“I’m not buying tonight. You’re wasting your time,” he said, turning his eyes to scan the bar. If he kept looking into those liquid blue-gray eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation much longer.
“I don’t understand. I have nothing for sale,” she said, her tone frustrated as well as…something else. Desperate? Why would such a woman be so anxious to score a client?
She was beautiful, stunning enough to engage dozens of men a night. In fact, she was almost too beautiful. Even if she came from one of the less socially desirable tribes, this one should have been able to find a man to handfast with her. She should never have made it to such a low place, forced to earn her living by men’s use of her body.
“What’s your name?” Jorunn asked. There was something off here, something that alerted his fine-tuned survival instincts. The traces of moon dust left behind at the sword’s resting place had been a perfect match to Moon Three, but the way the dust had been so carelessly strewn about the crypt had made him wary from the start.
It was too easy, too sloppy for a criminal capable of slipping past his father’s guards and gaining entrance to the crypt in the first place.
“Astrid. My name is Astrid.”
“Astrid. A beautiful name, and a beautiful woman.” Jorunn spoke the words slowly as he scanned Astrid’s small frame. The blue fabric wasn’t cloth at all, but some sort of animal scales, not anything like the women’s clothing he’d seen for sale in the system’s many shopping satellites.
She was most likely a citizen of one of the more rural planets where they still made their own coverings, which only increased his suspicion. Women from the outer reaches rarely made it to the Endelvean regions. Their men were fiercely territorial and prostitution was illegal on all of those planets. No woman was allowed to go unmated, no matter what her social status, especially not one as stunning and fertile-looking as this one.
“And what is your name?” she asked, a frown twitching at her lips even as her cheeks blushed bright red.
“You don’t enjoy having your beauty praised?” he asked, ignoring her question. She had to know who he was. His father had distributed the announcements of his impending coronation over every settlement in the realm. They might not have holographic posting boards where she was from, but he wouldn’t be surprised if his father had demanded his image plastered on the milking towers and grain-storing sheds.
“Beauty is passing, strength is what matters.” She stepped closer, not showing any response to the stink that surrounded him.
“I’ve never underestimated the strength of the female of the species,” he said, as he casually gave the three-fingered signal that would tell a true juicy girl that he was ready to engage her services. If she didn’t respond, he’d know that his suspicions were founded, if she did…well, then he supposed he’d have to follow through and fuck her.
“Wonderful. Then would you like to come with me to my ship?”
“To your ship? You prefer I take you there? I won’t pay a bed rental fee,” Jorunn warned. Her response seemed to indicate that she was ready to accept his signal, but he’d never heard of a prostitute who owned her own ship. Perhaps he should take things a little further with Astrid, simply to make sure they understood one another. “In fact, I’m not sure I want you lying down.”
Her eyes grew wide as he looped one arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, spinning them until her back pressed against the wall. “What if I prefer to stay in the bar?”
“Well, I…wouldn’t…” Her words trailed off into silence as he ran one hand casually along the delicate column of her neck, and down to where her dress dipped low between her breasts. He traced the line of her garment, teasing over each full swell, until her breath came faster and her eyes fluttered closed. Only then did he tug at the fabric, causing her breasts to spill out the top.
She gasped and her eyes flew open. “Wait, I—”
“You would rather end the engagement now?” Jorunn tried to fix his attention on reading her expression, but it was impossible to keep his eyes above her neck. Her breasts were exquisite, two ripe mounds topped by dusky nipples that practically begged to be suckled into his mouth. His mouth watered at the thought and his cock responded in kind, beginning to leak with excitement.
“No,” she whispered, her nipples tightening under his gaze
Gods, he wanted to bed this woman, and he wanted to do it properly, not here with a hundred eyes on them. And eyes were on them. Half the bar had grown silent as men became aware of the show taking place against the far wall. This wasn’t what he’d intended. He’d planned to lay low, to do his best not to attract attention. But now that he’d started with Astrid, he couldn’t seem to stop.
“So you’d let me touch you, take you, right here? If I chose?” He cupped one breast in his hand and ran a thumb over the erect tip. Astrid shivered, her eyes sliding closed as she nodded her head in affirmation.
“Yes?” he asked, moving both hands to her chest and rolling her tight nipples between his fingers. Her show of desire seemed utterly free of affectation. Either she was a consummate actress, or Astrid was truly aroused by what they were doing.
Maybe that’s why she’d become a juicy girl in the first place—maybe she actually enjoyed fucking strange men in public. There was one way to find out…
He dropped one hand and slid it up the inside of her thigh, nearly groaning as a trail of wet heat meet his fingers before he’d even reached her sex. She was drenched, sufficiently ready for him to turn her around, lift her dress, and ram into her sweet depths. Or perhaps, considering her height, it would work better between them if he hitched her up around his waist and fucked her against the wall.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The appeal of the "common" guy
I'm watching the season finale of "Dancing with the Stars" tonight. Upfront, I'm a teensy mad that I really like all of the finalists. Why? Because they all seem to have nice, neat and fun personalities. However, I'm rooting for Joey. Again, why? First, I think it's the "entertainers" turn after two seasons of athletes winning. Second, out of all the 'N Sync boys, he's the one I liked best. He was the one who seemed most like the guys I could randomly meet in my neighborhood. A Guy. Not a Star. Then I saw "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" and while he had a bit part, he stole the movie for me. I like a sense of humor in my men to go along with a good looking face and bod, and Joey? He's got humor in spades. Okay, the show's starting, so I'll report back with my thoughts after the penultimate elimination and the crowning of the winner.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Excerpt - CHOOSING MADISON by Sherrill Quinn
Choosing Madison is one of six stories in the first volume of Ellora's Cave's SEASONS OF SEDUCTION. I'm sharing an excerpt here--hope you like it!
Gaelen Brecca and Leax Ilan are sent to retrieve their leader's errant bride. Because of the stubborness of the princess and an attack by enemy Raiders, they end up taking Earth woman Madison Marquette along as well. They are enchanted by her beauty, her bravery, and her wit. She might just be the woman these bond-brothers need to complete their triad.
Madison has lived an adventurous life... vicariously through the wild tales of her best friend, tales that Madison has turned into sci-fi romance novels. Grabbing onto the opportunity to truly have an adventure, she is stunned to find lust and love as well. She must overcome her natural tendency to look for safety and make a life for herself with her two alien lovers. Can they secure her sensual surrender?
Gaelen rested his hand on the tranq pistol he had tucked into his utility belt. With an inward curse, he knew he could use it only as a last resort. The royal bonding was to keep the peace between the peoples of Reivas and Talar. Should he in essence kidnap the princess and take her back to his cousin against her will... Well, wars had been started for less grievous offenses.
He could faintly hear the voice of the Earth woman in the other room. Because of the translation device all Reivans had implanted, he knew she spoke to her father, her voice strained as she called him 'Dad'. It would be best if they left before she rejoined them. "Princess Juliska--"
"Do this one thing for me, Lord Brecca, and I will go quietly." Juliska's voice remained soft, serene. "Happily, even. Bring my friend along so she can attend my wedding, then bring her back home again." The knowledge that she had him ass-up over a barrel was in her tranquil gaze. "It's a simple enough request."
"It's not that much of a burden, Gaelen." His second-in-command and bond-brother, Leax Ilan, stepped to his side. "The Earth woman would be good company for the princess."
And would, therefore, keep Juliska out from under their feet. But it rankled, having his actions dictated to him, especially by a spoiled princess. He started to respond but was interrupted by a beep from his communicator. He pressed the comm pip on his collar. "Brecca."
"Lord Brecca, we've just picked up another ship coming into range, fast." Chardon's voice was tight, telling Gaelen without words this was no ordinary ship. "They're out of hyper speed and will be at your location in approximately three minutes." He paused. When he continued, he spoke quickly. "Looks like Raiders, my lord."
"Raiders." Leax's voice held the same urgency as Chardon's. "Gaelen, we need to go. Now."
"Oh, no." Eyes wide, the princess put one hand to her mouth.
They had run out of time, and choices. If they left the Earth woman behind, the Raiders would take out their anger at missing the princess on her. "All right." He looked at Juliska. "Go get your friend."
She nodded and ran down the hallway. Within a few seconds, she was dragging her friend--Madison--back into the open living area. "But I haven't had a chance to pack anything," the woman protested. "And I need to change. At least let me put on some shoes."
Gaelen's gaze tracked over her bare feet with their toenails painted a bright pink, up long, long legs hidden from view at mid-thigh by the skirt of her flowered sundress. She looked more than fine to him. She looked...beautiful. He was about to tell Juliska they had to hurry when she spoke.
"We'll get you something to wear on the ship. There's no time," Juliska said as the woman started to argue. The princess's voice was tight with worry and fear. "These Raiders are not the kind of people we want to wait around for."
Gaelen heard the thud of boots outside. With a scowl, he pulled his weapon and saw Leax do the same. "Too late, Princess. Get your friend behind there," he said, pointing to the sofa, "and stay down." To his bond-brother he said, "Set your weapon on maximum stun."
He and Leax took position on either side of the front door. The door burst open and the first three Raiders inside the house were quickly stunned into unconsciousness. Then he and his bond-brother had to duck for cover.
Weapons fire lit up the room for several minutes. Gaelen concentrated on trying to take out two Raiders to his left, and from his peripheral vision saw Leax firing toward the back of the house. Dammit. They'd come in from behind as well.
The princess screamed and he glanced around to see her wrapped in a Raider's brawny arms. Pinned in place by well-aimed shots, Gaelen kept firing at the bastards. The princess kicked wildly, connecting with her captor's shins and making him wince, but otherwise having very little effect. Madison stood up, a long and rounded wooden stick in her hands. She swung at the Raider's head, grunting with the effort. The crack of wood connecting with bone was loud. The man slumped to the floor and lay still.
The two women dropped down behind the sofa. Blinking back his astonishment--and admiration--at the Earth woman's courage, Gaelen turned his full attention back to the Raiders, firing at them in rapid succession. The remaining invaders fell to the floor, stunned to unconsciousness. He waited a few seconds and, once he was sure they were staying put, he jumped to his feet. "Let's go! Before they send reinforcements."
The two women came from around the sofa. Juliska's friend still had her hold on the wooden stick. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
She blushed and glanced at the princess. "We Marquettes are fighters." When Juliska laughed and hugged her, a relieved grin covered Madison's face and she mumbled, "Semper fi and all that shit."
Copyright ©2007 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
5 Hearts from Love Romances and More: "A futuristic story with a great plot, handsome, larger-than-life heroes, and a heroine who is lucky to get two men. What more could a woman want? What more could a reader want? This reviewer must admit that menáge stories are one of her favorites and this one was sensual, emotional and had this reviewer panting at the end. Ms. Quinn knows how to keep the reader’s attention throughout this thrilling story."
5 Hearts from the Romance Studio: "Anyone who likes a quick, hot read will like this story. Madison, Gaelen and Leax are richly described and the sexual tension adds to the dynamics of this short read. Convincing Madison that she can have both worlds is a job Gaelen and Leax are cut out for. The science fiction aspects of the story don't overwhelm the romantic side of it, but add to the reality of the situation. This erotic romp on the futuristic side is done very nicely."
Choosing Madison, part of Seasons of Seduction Volume 1 - available at Ellora's Cave!
Gaelen Brecca and Leax Ilan are sent to retrieve their leader's errant bride. Because of the stubborness of the princess and an attack by enemy Raiders, they end up taking Earth woman Madison Marquette along as well. They are enchanted by her beauty, her bravery, and her wit. She might just be the woman these bond-brothers need to complete their triad.
Madison has lived an adventurous life... vicariously through the wild tales of her best friend, tales that Madison has turned into sci-fi romance novels. Grabbing onto the opportunity to truly have an adventure, she is stunned to find lust and love as well. She must overcome her natural tendency to look for safety and make a life for herself with her two alien lovers. Can they secure her sensual surrender?
~ * ~
Gaelen rested his hand on the tranq pistol he had tucked into his utility belt. With an inward curse, he knew he could use it only as a last resort. The royal bonding was to keep the peace between the peoples of Reivas and Talar. Should he in essence kidnap the princess and take her back to his cousin against her will... Well, wars had been started for less grievous offenses.
He could faintly hear the voice of the Earth woman in the other room. Because of the translation device all Reivans had implanted, he knew she spoke to her father, her voice strained as she called him 'Dad'. It would be best if they left before she rejoined them. "Princess Juliska--"
"Do this one thing for me, Lord Brecca, and I will go quietly." Juliska's voice remained soft, serene. "Happily, even. Bring my friend along so she can attend my wedding, then bring her back home again." The knowledge that she had him ass-up over a barrel was in her tranquil gaze. "It's a simple enough request."
"It's not that much of a burden, Gaelen." His second-in-command and bond-brother, Leax Ilan, stepped to his side. "The Earth woman would be good company for the princess."
And would, therefore, keep Juliska out from under their feet. But it rankled, having his actions dictated to him, especially by a spoiled princess. He started to respond but was interrupted by a beep from his communicator. He pressed the comm pip on his collar. "Brecca."
"Lord Brecca, we've just picked up another ship coming into range, fast." Chardon's voice was tight, telling Gaelen without words this was no ordinary ship. "They're out of hyper speed and will be at your location in approximately three minutes." He paused. When he continued, he spoke quickly. "Looks like Raiders, my lord."
"Raiders." Leax's voice held the same urgency as Chardon's. "Gaelen, we need to go. Now."
"Oh, no." Eyes wide, the princess put one hand to her mouth.
They had run out of time, and choices. If they left the Earth woman behind, the Raiders would take out their anger at missing the princess on her. "All right." He looked at Juliska. "Go get your friend."
She nodded and ran down the hallway. Within a few seconds, she was dragging her friend--Madison--back into the open living area. "But I haven't had a chance to pack anything," the woman protested. "And I need to change. At least let me put on some shoes."
Gaelen's gaze tracked over her bare feet with their toenails painted a bright pink, up long, long legs hidden from view at mid-thigh by the skirt of her flowered sundress. She looked more than fine to him. She looked...beautiful. He was about to tell Juliska they had to hurry when she spoke.
"We'll get you something to wear on the ship. There's no time," Juliska said as the woman started to argue. The princess's voice was tight with worry and fear. "These Raiders are not the kind of people we want to wait around for."
Gaelen heard the thud of boots outside. With a scowl, he pulled his weapon and saw Leax do the same. "Too late, Princess. Get your friend behind there," he said, pointing to the sofa, "and stay down." To his bond-brother he said, "Set your weapon on maximum stun."
He and Leax took position on either side of the front door. The door burst open and the first three Raiders inside the house were quickly stunned into unconsciousness. Then he and his bond-brother had to duck for cover.
Weapons fire lit up the room for several minutes. Gaelen concentrated on trying to take out two Raiders to his left, and from his peripheral vision saw Leax firing toward the back of the house. Dammit. They'd come in from behind as well.
The princess screamed and he glanced around to see her wrapped in a Raider's brawny arms. Pinned in place by well-aimed shots, Gaelen kept firing at the bastards. The princess kicked wildly, connecting with her captor's shins and making him wince, but otherwise having very little effect. Madison stood up, a long and rounded wooden stick in her hands. She swung at the Raider's head, grunting with the effort. The crack of wood connecting with bone was loud. The man slumped to the floor and lay still.
The two women dropped down behind the sofa. Blinking back his astonishment--and admiration--at the Earth woman's courage, Gaelen turned his full attention back to the Raiders, firing at them in rapid succession. The remaining invaders fell to the floor, stunned to unconsciousness. He waited a few seconds and, once he was sure they were staying put, he jumped to his feet. "Let's go! Before they send reinforcements."
The two women came from around the sofa. Juliska's friend still had her hold on the wooden stick. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
She blushed and glanced at the princess. "We Marquettes are fighters." When Juliska laughed and hugged her, a relieved grin covered Madison's face and she mumbled, "Semper fi and all that shit."
Copyright ©2007 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
5 Hearts from Love Romances and More: "A futuristic story with a great plot, handsome, larger-than-life heroes, and a heroine who is lucky to get two men. What more could a woman want? What more could a reader want? This reviewer must admit that menáge stories are one of her favorites and this one was sensual, emotional and had this reviewer panting at the end. Ms. Quinn knows how to keep the reader’s attention throughout this thrilling story."
5 Hearts from the Romance Studio: "Anyone who likes a quick, hot read will like this story. Madison, Gaelen and Leax are richly described and the sexual tension adds to the dynamics of this short read. Convincing Madison that she can have both worlds is a job Gaelen and Leax are cut out for. The science fiction aspects of the story don't overwhelm the romantic side of it, but add to the reality of the situation. This erotic romp on the futuristic side is done very nicely."
Choosing Madison, part of Seasons of Seduction Volume 1 - available at Ellora's Cave!
Friday, May 18, 2007
And I have a dirty mind
Lol, it seems my buddies here are all writing about romantic sexy songs, soft soul music (I can't believe nobody's mentioned Barry White).
And here I come, with "I Wanna be your Dog" by the Stooges, and the Nine Inch Nails cover version of Queen's "Get Down Make Love".
Video for Get Down Make Love (there are some mildly NSFW images):
(Wait until you get about 45 seconds in. I promise you, this is one sexy-ass song.)
This next one isn't a video, it's just an image with the song played over it:
I'm not sure what it is about this song, it's just always really grabbed me. Something about the total submission implied, maybe? The moodiness of it? I dunno, but damn it does grab me.
(Oh, and by the way? I love Elijah Wood, I really do, but I just can't see him playing Iggy Pop in a movie. I may be proved wrong, but I just don't see it.)
There are a few others, too. I like Bill Withers' "Use Me" a lot. I think "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult is pretty romantic and sexy. Sinatra, of course. (I also really like James Darren for old standards, he has a smooth, light touch (vocally, of course. I've never met the man.)
I know there's more...probably on the iPod I'm too lazy to go grab...but the NIN and Stooges songs are my big ones.
If you've ever read one of my sex scenes and wondered what I listened to when I wrote them (which of course you have, right? Lol), that's it. Almost every time. (I mix other stuff in there too, but those are the have-to-hear sexy songs.)
And here I come, with "I Wanna be your Dog" by the Stooges, and the Nine Inch Nails cover version of Queen's "Get Down Make Love".
Video for Get Down Make Love (there are some mildly NSFW images):
(Wait until you get about 45 seconds in. I promise you, this is one sexy-ass song.)
This next one isn't a video, it's just an image with the song played over it:
I'm not sure what it is about this song, it's just always really grabbed me. Something about the total submission implied, maybe? The moodiness of it? I dunno, but damn it does grab me.
(Oh, and by the way? I love Elijah Wood, I really do, but I just can't see him playing Iggy Pop in a movie. I may be proved wrong, but I just don't see it.)
There are a few others, too. I like Bill Withers' "Use Me" a lot. I think "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult is pretty romantic and sexy. Sinatra, of course. (I also really like James Darren for old standards, he has a smooth, light touch (vocally, of course. I've never met the man.)
I know there's more...probably on the iPod I'm too lazy to go grab...but the NIN and Stooges songs are my big ones.
If you've ever read one of my sex scenes and wondered what I listened to when I wrote them (which of course you have, right? Lol), that's it. Almost every time. (I mix other stuff in there too, but those are the have-to-hear sexy songs.)
Thursday, May 17, 2007
A boy, a car, a song on the radio...
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Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Songs that make me feel sexy
This is not a sexy song list, but these songs make ME feel sexy so...well...there you go:
1. 50 ways to leave your lover (Paul Simon)
2. Today (Smashing Pumpkins)
3. The theme song from Exodus
4. The Best is Yet to Come (Frank Sinatra-this was my 'song' with my ex husband, but I still love it. I don't think he loved it as much as I did and wouldn't even listen to Frank unless we were doing the wine trails in Cali.)
5. Save the Last Dance for Me (The original Drifters version and the new Michael Buble version too, though they overplay that one at Barnes and Noble.)
6. Free Ride--LOL!! Okay, just joking, but not totally. I mean, doesn't that song make you want to climb up on the kitchen table and start doing a stripshow for your hubby or significant other? Assuming there are no children present, of course? And no food on the table...and you were wearing pretty panties.
How do you feel about the word panties? Do your prefer underpants? Undies? Briefs? It's a difficult question for me. I don't like any of them. I think we should invent a new word.
Hugs! And so another random blog ends.
Anna J. Evans
http://annajevans.blogspot.com
1. 50 ways to leave your lover (Paul Simon)
2. Today (Smashing Pumpkins)
3. The theme song from Exodus
4. The Best is Yet to Come (Frank Sinatra-this was my 'song' with my ex husband, but I still love it. I don't think he loved it as much as I did and wouldn't even listen to Frank unless we were doing the wine trails in Cali.)
5. Save the Last Dance for Me (The original Drifters version and the new Michael Buble version too, though they overplay that one at Barnes and Noble.)
6. Free Ride--LOL!! Okay, just joking, but not totally. I mean, doesn't that song make you want to climb up on the kitchen table and start doing a stripshow for your hubby or significant other? Assuming there are no children present, of course? And no food on the table...and you were wearing pretty panties.
How do you feel about the word panties? Do your prefer underpants? Undies? Briefs? It's a difficult question for me. I don't like any of them. I think we should invent a new word.
Hugs! And so another random blog ends.
Anna J. Evans
http://annajevans.blogspot.com
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Auditory lurve
I had some problems with this theme, mainly because when I'm listening to music, it's not for sexy-time. Songs that I think are sexy, just for the pure sound of them, really aren't when you *truly* listen to the lyrics. Case in point: Love Song for a Vampire by Annie Lennox.
Others, well, Austin Powers' dance to it in the original movie leaves me cracking up in laughter now:
This one was just a joke from the very beginning:
So, while I can think of a lot of *almost* sexy and really not sexy songs, I'm a bit at a loss for songs that get my motor humming.
Others, well, Austin Powers' dance to it in the original movie leaves me cracking up in laughter now:
This one was just a joke from the very beginning:
So, while I can think of a lot of *almost* sexy and really not sexy songs, I'm a bit at a loss for songs that get my motor humming.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Sexxxxy Songs
One of my favorite 80s songs was I Wanna Kiss You All Over by Exile. Sexy voice, sexy lyrics (band's not that hot looking, but two outta three ain't bad):
When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire
All day I've been thinkin' about you, babe
You're my one desire
Gonna wrap my arms around you
Hold you close to me
Oh, babe I wanna taste your lips
I wanna fill your fantasy, yeah
I don't what I'd do without you, babe
Don't know where I'd be
You're not just another lover
No, you're everything to me
Everytime I'm with you, baby
I can't believe it's true
When you're layin' in my arms
'N' you do the things you do
You can see it in my eyes
I can feel it in your touch
You don't have to say a thing
Just let me show how much
Love you, need you, yeah
I wanna kiss you all over
And over again
I wanna kiss you all over
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Stay with me, lay with me, holding me, loving me, baby
Here with me, near with me, feeling you close to me, baby
So show me, show me ev'rything you do
'cause baby no one does it quite like you
Love you, need you, oh, babe
I wanna kiss you all over
And over again
I wanna kiss you all over
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Rrrrrowr. I luuuuuv that song!
When I get home, babe, gonna light your fire
All day I've been thinkin' about you, babe
You're my one desire
Gonna wrap my arms around you
Hold you close to me
Oh, babe I wanna taste your lips
I wanna fill your fantasy, yeah
I don't what I'd do without you, babe
Don't know where I'd be
You're not just another lover
No, you're everything to me
Everytime I'm with you, baby
I can't believe it's true
When you're layin' in my arms
'N' you do the things you do
You can see it in my eyes
I can feel it in your touch
You don't have to say a thing
Just let me show how much
Love you, need you, yeah
I wanna kiss you all over
And over again
I wanna kiss you all over
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Stay with me, lay with me, holding me, loving me, baby
Here with me, near with me, feeling you close to me, baby
So show me, show me ev'rything you do
'cause baby no one does it quite like you
Love you, need you, oh, babe
I wanna kiss you all over
And over again
I wanna kiss you all over
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Till the night closes in
Rrrrrowr. I luuuuuv that song!
Friday, May 11, 2007
Baby Got Back
But, literally...backs.
I love men's backs. I mean, Like the other bits too but I especially love the back.
There's just something about them, all broad and strong...even little thin men often have nice backs. Back are equal opportunity hotness, every man can acheive it.
I love how heavy their shoulder blades are, and how they move. I love the way their shirts fall into the little dip between blades. I especially like the darts in their shirts that emphasize those lovely big flat planes of their backs.
I knew a guy in high school named Scott. Scott was okay, but I was obsessed with his back. I would literally angle my way to standing behind him just so I could look at it. I had a huge crush on him just because he had the hottest back on the planet (he was a swimmer). It still makes me drooly thinking of it.
Men's backs are so long. They're so broad. (I can't abide narrow shoulders on a man either, so I'm talking about broad-shouldered men.) Their backs start out so wide, and narrow so gently. They're so smooth. I picture them under my fingers and feeling the muscles move beneath them. I picture scratching them a little bit with my nails. (Forgive me. I've been writing sex all morning so I'm still a little, ah, in the groove.)
And adam's apples. Oh, I love those! I love men with big noses and big adam's apples, men who, when you look at them, you know that's a man. There's nothing delicate about them. They have big hands and broad shoulders and backs and bony, manly faces, and you can nibble the skin over their adam's apples really really soflty and they usually like that. A man with a big nose is a man with astrong man face, not some little girly tiny thing. Men should have bones and muscles everywhere. They should be hard against you (now you get your mind out of the gutter). They should be solid, and strong, and their faces and bodies should take up space, should project themselves. A man shouldn't blend into the background even if he's quiet and unassuming. I even like bony man feet. I like strong, wide wrists.
And I like those ken doll parts Anna mentioned too. Those are particularly fun to nibble and they just look so...hoo. I should probably stop.
You know what doesn't really interest me though? Butts. I mean, I like a nice butt as much as any girl, but I generally look a little higher. If they have broad shoulders I could care less what's in the trunk.
I love men's backs. I mean, Like the other bits too but I especially love the back.
There's just something about them, all broad and strong...even little thin men often have nice backs. Back are equal opportunity hotness, every man can acheive it.
I love how heavy their shoulder blades are, and how they move. I love the way their shirts fall into the little dip between blades. I especially like the darts in their shirts that emphasize those lovely big flat planes of their backs.
I knew a guy in high school named Scott. Scott was okay, but I was obsessed with his back. I would literally angle my way to standing behind him just so I could look at it. I had a huge crush on him just because he had the hottest back on the planet (he was a swimmer). It still makes me drooly thinking of it.
Men's backs are so long. They're so broad. (I can't abide narrow shoulders on a man either, so I'm talking about broad-shouldered men.) Their backs start out so wide, and narrow so gently. They're so smooth. I picture them under my fingers and feeling the muscles move beneath them. I picture scratching them a little bit with my nails. (Forgive me. I've been writing sex all morning so I'm still a little, ah, in the groove.)
And adam's apples. Oh, I love those! I love men with big noses and big adam's apples, men who, when you look at them, you know that's a man. There's nothing delicate about them. They have big hands and broad shoulders and backs and bony, manly faces, and you can nibble the skin over their adam's apples really really soflty and they usually like that. A man with a big nose is a man with astrong man face, not some little girly tiny thing. Men should have bones and muscles everywhere. They should be hard against you (now you get your mind out of the gutter). They should be solid, and strong, and their faces and bodies should take up space, should project themselves. A man shouldn't blend into the background even if he's quiet and unassuming. I even like bony man feet. I like strong, wide wrists.
And I like those ken doll parts Anna mentioned too. Those are particularly fun to nibble and they just look so...hoo. I should probably stop.
You know what doesn't really interest me though? Butts. I mean, I like a nice butt as much as any girl, but I generally look a little higher. If they have broad shoulders I could care less what's in the trunk.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Butt... butt... butt...
It curves before me. Hard. Round. The little dimple at the top, showing just above his jeans. I want to reach around, undo his belt, slide his Levi's down -- sloooowly -- and cup those delectable cheeks in my greedy little hands, squeeze them slightly...The way it flexes as he moves, the muscles bunching under my hands as he pushes down into me. The indentations at the side of the glutes, that little dip inward... oh yeah. The twin cords of muscle running down to it -- shirtless, jeans slung low, skin gleaming in the sunlight and just that tiny top curve showing. I like it best when he's carrying something -- preferably something of mine so I don't have to...
The first time I ever saw my husband, it was in a bar. (Yes, I met my husband in a bar -- now hush.) He was standing back to, jeans clinging tight over that luscious skier's ass, blond hair tumbling down over his shoulders. I took one look, turned to my best friend Pookie and said, "If he's that pretty when he turns around, I am in sooooo much trouble!"
Pookie was maid of honor at the wedding.
Never underestimate the power of the butt! :p
-- Sierra
www.sierradafoe.com
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
The ken doll bits
You know what I'm talking about...look up there, at that strange, Ken-dollish ridge! It's so...odd...yet so...weirdly yummy.
I honestly thought that part wasn't in existence on real men until I met...um, one of my old friends. I fairly drooled the first time I saw the boy in his altogethers. Because you know, when a guy is cut and fit enough to have the ken doll parts, he's usually pretty well-sculpted everywhere else if you know what I'm saying.
Drool...drool...and more drool. I usually don't get worked up over pics of nudey men, but those ken doll bits get me going, lol.
Of course, I think I'm ovulating this week. Always feel friskier then. What about you? Ovulating? Not ovulating? Is that over-sharing...do you feel grossed out now? Are you skeeved as you imagine my ovary releasing an egg to float down my fallopian tube :)?
heh heh, happy wednesday,
Anna J. Evans
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
The eyes have it!
I'm a slut for eyes on a man. I had a crush for over twenty years on a kid I went to library story time with because he had gorgeous eyes. He still pops up in my dreams every once in a while, Sunday night being the most recent appearance. I think I'm a sucker for eyes because they are the window into the person's soul. Light eyes with a dark ring around the iris make me especially slutty, but no matter the color, if there's a twinkle of laughter constantly shining, I'll write my own name and number in his little black book.
The dude in the picture Sherrill posted yesterday? I would so throw him down and do him. ::Shivers::
The dude in the picture Sherrill posted yesterday? I would so throw him down and do him. ::Shivers::
Monday, May 7, 2007
Man Parts
We're talking about favorite man parts this week--man parts other than that particular part. Yeah, yeah, I know what you were thinking. Me, too. LOL
I find that, when I meet a guy for the first time, one of the things that I pay attention to the most are his hands. Does he have a firm grip when he shakes my hand? How long are his fingers? How wide is his hand? Understand, I have my dad's hands--broad, short-fingered, not feminine at all. So I like guys who's hands are masculine to the nth degree, so they can make mine look prettier.
I also pay attention to a man's eyes. Chocolate brown make my heart flutter (so I'm in a lot of trouble here, living in southern Arizona where there's a large Hispanic population), but I'm equally set aflutter by piercing blue or clear green.
The other man part I really like are shoulders--broad and muscled atop a tapered back and taut, rounded... Oops.
You know, I really should probably be approaching this from the direction of my least favorite parts. Cuz I like just about everything about a man. LOL Except, maybe, feet. I have yet to see a pair of feet that are pretty, even in a masculine way. You think God doesn't have a sense of humor? Just look at your feet. *G*
So, what about you? What's your favorite man-part?
I find that, when I meet a guy for the first time, one of the things that I pay attention to the most are his hands. Does he have a firm grip when he shakes my hand? How long are his fingers? How wide is his hand? Understand, I have my dad's hands--broad, short-fingered, not feminine at all. So I like guys who's hands are masculine to the nth degree, so they can make mine look prettier.
I also pay attention to a man's eyes. Chocolate brown make my heart flutter (so I'm in a lot of trouble here, living in southern Arizona where there's a large Hispanic population), but I'm equally set aflutter by piercing blue or clear green.
The other man part I really like are shoulders--broad and muscled atop a tapered back and taut, rounded... Oops.
You know, I really should probably be approaching this from the direction of my least favorite parts. Cuz I like just about everything about a man. LOL Except, maybe, feet. I have yet to see a pair of feet that are pretty, even in a masculine way. You think God doesn't have a sense of humor? Just look at your feet. *G*
So, what about you? What's your favorite man-part?
Friday, May 4, 2007
So. Add me to the lazybones list. I hate cleaning.
Well, no. Actually, I don't mind most cleaning tasks. It's tidying I hate. I hate picking stuff up and putting it away, but I don't mind vacuuming (especially since hubby bought me a Dyson. We fight over who gets to vacuum. I'm not joking.)
But then I hate putting the vacuum away after.
I don't mind scraping plates and loading the dishwasher, but I hate putting them away when they're clean. (I don't do dishes by hand. It messes with my nails.)
I don't mind doing laundry, but I hate putting it on the rack to dry (we don't have a tumble dryer. This is England, where such things are rare and expensive and housed in the garage if you actually have one.) I don't really mind folding it but I HATE putting it away.
I don't really mind scrubbing sinks and toilets and tubs. Well, no, it isn't as much fun here because we don't have Comet. I love Comet. Especially when I was pregnant with the Faery. We had the cleanest tub in town. I used to clean it three or four times a week just because I loved the Comet smell so much. Hey, pregnant ladies get wierd fixations. The smell of apples made me gag horribly (and of course we discovered that when my hubby bought a big bottle of green apple dish soap. I couldn't bear to even go near the kitchen sink. I'd have to go sniff some Comet to feel better.)
I don't mind cleaning countertops and stovetops either (although I admit I don't really see the point with the stovetop.) But I hate cleaning out the fridge. Don't mind taking out the trash but never seem to get around to putting in a fresh bag afterwards.
But I would rather pick my way through a sea of toys and dirty clothes than bend over to pick up anything off the floor. I'd rather stack only-worn-once clothes that can be worn again on the arm of the couch than take them upstairs and put them back away.
The problem isn't me. It's these damn other people in my house making messes. When I lived alone my house was always tidy. But I've picked up so many frigging Little People off the floor I dream about them. Which makes me mad.
So thats it. I'm a little schizophrenic when it comes to cleaning, and basically a lazy slob, but under the mess I like stuff to be clean. Which makes no sense at all, but who said it had to?
Well, no. Actually, I don't mind most cleaning tasks. It's tidying I hate. I hate picking stuff up and putting it away, but I don't mind vacuuming (especially since hubby bought me a Dyson. We fight over who gets to vacuum. I'm not joking.)
But then I hate putting the vacuum away after.
I don't mind scraping plates and loading the dishwasher, but I hate putting them away when they're clean. (I don't do dishes by hand. It messes with my nails.)
I don't mind doing laundry, but I hate putting it on the rack to dry (we don't have a tumble dryer. This is England, where such things are rare and expensive and housed in the garage if you actually have one.) I don't really mind folding it but I HATE putting it away.
I don't really mind scrubbing sinks and toilets and tubs. Well, no, it isn't as much fun here because we don't have Comet. I love Comet. Especially when I was pregnant with the Faery. We had the cleanest tub in town. I used to clean it three or four times a week just because I loved the Comet smell so much. Hey, pregnant ladies get wierd fixations. The smell of apples made me gag horribly (and of course we discovered that when my hubby bought a big bottle of green apple dish soap. I couldn't bear to even go near the kitchen sink. I'd have to go sniff some Comet to feel better.)
I don't mind cleaning countertops and stovetops either (although I admit I don't really see the point with the stovetop.) But I hate cleaning out the fridge. Don't mind taking out the trash but never seem to get around to putting in a fresh bag afterwards.
But I would rather pick my way through a sea of toys and dirty clothes than bend over to pick up anything off the floor. I'd rather stack only-worn-once clothes that can be worn again on the arm of the couch than take them upstairs and put them back away.
The problem isn't me. It's these damn other people in my house making messes. When I lived alone my house was always tidy. But I've picked up so many frigging Little People off the floor I dream about them. Which makes me mad.
So thats it. I'm a little schizophrenic when it comes to cleaning, and basically a lazy slob, but under the mess I like stuff to be clean. Which makes no sense at all, but who said it had to?
Thursday, May 3, 2007
The dating, mating, and waiting game
Now, here's a thing I don't get. Before we were married, when he lived alone, every Sunday Eli cleaned his apartment. And I do mean cleaned. Not, you know, girl-cleaned -- but he scrubbed down the bathroom top to bottom, vaccuumed, did his laundry. Even when I was visiting (and at that point, it was a three hour haul back and forth -- lousy dating arrangement, but there it was) this routine was sacrosanct.
Now, this was actually a factor in marrying him. And routine and my husband are still bosom buddies -- but somehow the cleaning part seems to have fallen out of his. And ya know what? I point-blank refuse to pick up the slack.
I am not, by nature, a slob. Well, okay, maybe on a day to day basis I fall into the surface-messy category, but I actually like cleaning. I like getting everything nice and shiny and attractive and organized and nice-smelling. And having been single till I was thirty-five, I'd gotten used to things, after I'd cleaned, staying clean -- at least for a while.
Now, somehow, every night the stove is splattered with grease. Dirty dishes are piled in the sink, and -- surprise, surprise! -- most of them aren't mine. Unfortunately, the kitchen is the one area I break down on at least every other day. You'd be amazed at how long I can ignore the rest of the house. I'm stubborn. But it did just occur to me that I'm still the one who breaks first -- despite the fact that he was at least as neat a person as me before we got married, the hubby can ignore it even longer than I can. And when I can't stand it any more, I clean.
But what was once something enjoyable now really really bites -- because, for the first time in my life, it's dirty again the next day. Did I sign on to be his mother? Somehow I missed that part of the marriage vows.
So no, I don't mind cleaning. What I mind is cleaning up after someone else, can you give me halleluyah, sister! And ya know what? My determination is restored. My commitment reaffirmed. The child is grown and gone (waaaah!), and I am living with a fully functional adult male who is perfectly capable of scrubbing out the tub (especially since he's the one that gets it coated with that gucky black stuff, not me).
I am strong. I am woman. I can outwait him. Let's see who blinks first this month. Hah!
Now, this was actually a factor in marrying him. And routine and my husband are still bosom buddies -- but somehow the cleaning part seems to have fallen out of his. And ya know what? I point-blank refuse to pick up the slack.
I am not, by nature, a slob. Well, okay, maybe on a day to day basis I fall into the surface-messy category, but I actually like cleaning. I like getting everything nice and shiny and attractive and organized and nice-smelling. And having been single till I was thirty-five, I'd gotten used to things, after I'd cleaned, staying clean -- at least for a while.
Now, somehow, every night the stove is splattered with grease. Dirty dishes are piled in the sink, and -- surprise, surprise! -- most of them aren't mine. Unfortunately, the kitchen is the one area I break down on at least every other day. You'd be amazed at how long I can ignore the rest of the house. I'm stubborn. But it did just occur to me that I'm still the one who breaks first -- despite the fact that he was at least as neat a person as me before we got married, the hubby can ignore it even longer than I can. And when I can't stand it any more, I clean.
But what was once something enjoyable now really really bites -- because, for the first time in my life, it's dirty again the next day. Did I sign on to be his mother? Somehow I missed that part of the marriage vows.
So no, I don't mind cleaning. What I mind is cleaning up after someone else, can you give me halleluyah, sister! And ya know what? My determination is restored. My commitment reaffirmed. The child is grown and gone (waaaah!), and I am living with a fully functional adult male who is perfectly capable of scrubbing out the tub (especially since he's the one that gets it coated with that gucky black stuff, not me).
I am strong. I am woman. I can outwait him. Let's see who blinks first this month. Hah!
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Like trying to pick which kind of rotted food you'd rather ingest
That's how I feel about this topic. How can I pick the 'most hated' household chore when I hate them all--with the possible exception of making my bed. There's something satisfying about that despite the fact that we'll only be getting back into it at the end of the day.
I hate cooking because none of my ungrateful children ever seem to enjoy my meals and I end up cleaning up the mess before my food's even digested because I can't stand sitting there, staring at the scattered remains of the kids' meals which are strewn all across the table and the floor. I swear, little piglets can't make a bigger mess at their trough than my kids.
I hate dusting. I hate cleaning toilets and showers and tubs. I really really hate sweeping the kitchen floor and mopping it afterwards. I hate battling the laundry for five people. I just...well, I could go on and on. I'm a stay at home mom writer, however, so I'm expected to do many of these things. So I do them...and our house is clean, and after three loads of laundry a day our clothes are as well. Blechk!!
I'm in a horrible mood now, just thinking about this!! Oh well, guess I'd better go obey the braying laundry god who is summoning me to the laundry room even as we speak, demanding tha I pay homage to him by folding a load of whites.
Anna J. 'housework can suck my ass' Evans
In other news, check out my May Newsletter :)
I hate cooking because none of my ungrateful children ever seem to enjoy my meals and I end up cleaning up the mess before my food's even digested because I can't stand sitting there, staring at the scattered remains of the kids' meals which are strewn all across the table and the floor. I swear, little piglets can't make a bigger mess at their trough than my kids.
I hate dusting. I hate cleaning toilets and showers and tubs. I really really hate sweeping the kitchen floor and mopping it afterwards. I hate battling the laundry for five people. I just...well, I could go on and on. I'm a stay at home mom writer, however, so I'm expected to do many of these things. So I do them...and our house is clean, and after three loads of laundry a day our clothes are as well. Blechk!!
I'm in a horrible mood now, just thinking about this!! Oh well, guess I'd better go obey the braying laundry god who is summoning me to the laundry room even as we speak, demanding tha I pay homage to him by folding a load of whites.
Anna J. 'housework can suck my ass' Evans
In other news, check out my May Newsletter :)
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Happy May Day!
Okay, I'm a teensy bit late on this according to my clock, but hey! I'm still posting on time thanks to the official blog clock. Can you tell I have a thing with time lately? This is because I've been on the road for work 11 out of the last 13 work days, and I'm still traveling tomorrow and Thursday. The only reason I remembered that today was Tuesday was because I saw the reminder for Anna to blog on our planning loop. My mind is toast. I drove just over 1500 miles in just over a two week period, so the household chore I hate most at the moment is unpacking and laundry. I just don't have the mental time for it at the moment, and I *need* to do it. Urgh. Okay, off to bed so I can wake up in five hours and start this all over again.
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