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
MARCY was here. In his condo. For a nooner. With MARCY. Crap, crap, crap. Brent paced, wringing his hands. This had to be perfect. It was MARCY.
She bent over to peer into the fish tank. Her skirt pulled tight across a shapely rear. All of Brent’s body hardened.
“That’s Bubbles.” He could talk fish.
“I know.” She straightened, a smile on her beautiful face. “And that’s Bluey.” She pointed to the other fish, careful not to tap the glass. That was Marcy. She was considerate of his fish. “Bubbles is fairly new but you’ve had Bluey for fifteen years, since coming to the city.” She removed her blazer, draping it over a chair. “I’ve been in your condo before, many times, remember?”
No, he didn’t remember. He didn’t remember anything before that kiss in his office. “I… ummm… I…” She reached around to unzip her skirt and all words fled.
“We don’t have to do this.” She stopped. “If you don’t want to.”
“I want to.” A certain body part was in danger of falling off if they didn’t. “I respect you, Marcy, so much. No matter what happens. I need you to know that.”
“And I respect you.” Her skirt dropped to the floor. She was wearing black silk panties. She looked so strong and sexy. “But I need more than you knowing that.” Her blouse joined her skirt. A black silk bra. Brent froze, his brain overheating. “I need you.” She trailed her finger down his nose, over his lips, clucking him on the chin.
“I need you.” He clutched him to her, kissing her thoroughly. “I love you.” The words were out before he could take them back. He tensed. Had he moved too quickly?
Her face lit up. “I’ve waited five years to hear those words.” She cuddled against him. “The wait was well worth it.” She kissed him. “I love you too, Brent.”
I was watching Work Of Art
The Next Great Artist
on the weekend and thinking about my favorite artists
(I have quite a few).
One of my absolute faves is wildlife artist Robert Bateman.
I’ve seen his original pieces (which smoke his prints - no comparison).
I’ve met the man.
Great artist, great person.
Not a great dresser though.
He usually throws a blazer over top of any ol’ shirt.
Photo Taken By Paul Henman
(See Link For Copyright Information)
Brent’s jaw clenched, accentuating his broad chin. “We’re not doing this.” Disappointment cut Marcy to the quick. “Here.” Her hopes rebounded. He looked down at the papers scattered on the ground, and then over his shoulder at the closed door. “At least not now.” Their co-workers worked right outside the office.
He stepped back, pulling her skirt down to cover her thighs. “I either have to stop this or get a new job and since I can’t keep my hands off of you, it will have to be the latter.” His large hand slipped under the fabric.
“I came in to give you my two weeks notice.” She smiled at him. It was one of her better ideas. “I’m transferring to Ahmed’s department.”
“Thank the good… I mean, you’ll be missed… not by me… that is, I’ll see you more often so I won’t get a chance to miss you.” Her normally calm and collected boss was delightfully flustered. Correction: her ex-boss. Touching him was no longer taboo.
“You won’t.” She leaned forward, catching his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled. He groaned, kissing her with a ferocity that curled her toes.
“I won’t last two weeks.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I know I should be able to. I lasted five years. Two weeks should be nothing, right?”
Two weeks was an eternity. “Tonight, after the meet and greet, drop by my apartment.” She wasn’t waiting another day. “I’ll stay up.”
“I will also.” He looked down at his pants. “The way this day is going. I can last until tonight. I can.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “We have forever. A few more hours can’t hurt.”
Forever. He said forever. “We could take a long lunch.”
Here is the hunky Josh Brolin with the always fab Diane Lane.
Love the orange tie with the blue shirt
(a brave choice).
I am SO looking forward to seeing Jonah Hex
(on Thursday with my big bro)
Photo Taken By Osei (Ozzy)
(See Link For Copyright Information)