Aspiring writers are told “write what you know”.
I took that advice to heart.
I know two things… business (based on decades in new business development) and romance (based on falling and staying in love with the man of my dreams).
September 2, 2009
September 3, 2009
September 10, 2009
A Short Story On Author Island
September 10, 2009
September 15, 2009
September 21, 2009
October 12, 2009
Interview And Fave Paranormal Book Contest
December 1, 2009
December 6, 2009
Host - My Christmas Traditions
February 15, 2010
Todd leaned against the cart and looked down the aisle. “We need all this sh… stuff?” He caught himself in time.
“No.” Becky laughed. “Just the basics.” She touched a mixing bowl. She touched everything, he noticed, everything except for him. “What do you think about this one?” She held it up.
He studied it as he figured she expected him to, like he actually knew a blasted thing about mixing bowls. “It’ll do.”
She frowned. Was that not the right answer? “Would you prefer it in blue?” She moved to the next selection, which except for color looked exactly the same to him.
“Yes.” A more definite answer.
And the right one. She smiled and placed the set with a thunk in the cart. They moved along. He brought the cart dangerously close to the shelving so a husband/wife team could pass. The wife was in Becky’s position, in front of the cart, her shirt stretched over a pregnant belly. The husband was pushing the cart, as Todd was. They nodded to each other as they passed. ‘Wives,’ was the unspoken communication, ‘what can you do?’
Except Becky wasn’t his wife. Or girlfriend.
If she were, tonight, he’d have that soft body to snuggle up against. They’d be shopping for their home, rather than his condo. She’d bake for him… “Your boyfriend is a lucky guy,” sprouted out of his mouth.
Brown eyes shot up to his, surprised. “No boyfriend.” Her cheeks were rosy red.
“Good.” She was his then. He gave her his best wolfish grin.
She looked away. Shy. He liked that she was shy. She picked up a cutting board. “Wood or plastic?” She stroked the surface.
“Let me see.” He moved close to her, reached out, touched the same board. Their fingers overlapped. He covered her hand with his. Hers trembled. His trembled. “What do you use?”
“Wood.” Her eyes on the board, on their hands. His large and tanned. Hers small and pink.
“Then I prefer wood.” He caressed that pink skin with his thumb. “Buy what you would buy for yourself.” If she felt at home in his kitchen, she’d feel more at ease with him.
Right now, she wasn’t comfortable with him. Because with her, he wasn’t dull and steady Todd. He was wild, dangerous, unpredictable.
I could feature Brad Pitt every week
as my man in a suit.
He always sports some fresh styles.
Here he does a scarf,
wonderfully well.
He looks like old Hollywood.
Love the cerise tie.
Photo Taken By SpreePix-Berlin
(See Link For Copyright Information)
“First we need your biggest mixing bowl.” Becky was proud of how professional she sounded. Not that she wasn’t professional. She was. When not standing close to a Greek god. Todd was how she pictured Zeus. No, Apollo, the handsome god. Tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and tanned golden skin.
“Mixing bowl.” Those blue eyes blinked. “Was that on the list?”
“No.” It hadn’t been because everyone had at least one mixing bowl. Didn’t they? “You must have one.” She opened cabinets. Bare. A set of dishes for four. Lots of glasses. Golf balls. Golf balls? She picked them up.
“I have to store them somewhere.” He looked a bit sheepish.
He stored sporting equipment in his gorgeous kitchen. Becky shook her head. And he had no mixing bowls. All his cabinets were open. Nothing. “You don’t have a cutting board either.” Or a half decent set of knives. Or an apple peeler.
“If I have to cut something,” his forehead wrinkled as though he couldn’t remember the last time he had to do that, “I use the counter.”
The granite countertop. Becky stared down at it so Todd couldn’t see the horror likely written all over her face. “You need a cutting board.” She pulled out a pen and a pad of paper from her purse, making a list. “We’re going shopping.”
“We’re not baking?” He frowned.
“Not right now. Let’s put the butter away.” She opened his fridge. Beer, wine, and other liquors were the only items in it. The man didn’t even have milk. He passed her the butter. She set it on a shelf all by itself. The saddest thing she’d ever seen. “You must eat out a lot.”
He nodded. “Or at the office.” Martha mentioned he was a workaholic. “Where are we going?”
“Target.” It was still open and had everything they needed.
“Target… ticker symbol TGT.” He grinned and her heart skipped a beat. “Today, Target will be a buy.”
Becky didn’t get the joke but she smiled as he laughed. She couldn’t help it. The man was charming. No wonder Martha adored her boss. She was halfway in love with him already herself.
Okay, I’ve seen this look quite a bit recently.
The top 3 or 4 buttons on a dress shirt unbuttoned.
Looks great on John Legend
because, well, he’s John Legend
but on regular guys…
you have to be very secure in your hotness.
(Aside, doesn’t the jacket here look soft and snuggly? Yum)
Photo Taken By talkradionews
(See Link For Copyright)