Sunday funnies

January 11, 2009 | Sunday funnies

Hiding Smokers

Behind the convent, two nuns stood, nervously smoking cigarettes.

One said, “It’s bad enough that we have to sneak out here to smoke, but it’s really a problem getting rid of the cigarette butts so Mother Superior doesn’t find them.”

The second nun said, “I’ve found a marvelous invention called the condom, which solves this problem completely. You just open the packet up, take out the condom, and put the cigarette butt in, roll it up, and dispose of it all later.”

The first nun was quite impressed. “Where can I get these condoms?”

“You get them at the drugstore, sister. Just ask the pharmacist for them.”

The next day the good sister went to the drug store and walked up to the counter.

“Good morning, sister,” said the pharmacist. “What can I do for you today?”

”I’d like some condoms, please,” she said.

The pharmacist was a little taken aback, but recovered soon enough and asked, “How many boxes would you like? There are twelve to a box.”

”I’ll take six boxes. That should last about a week,” she replied.

The pharmacist was truly flabbergasted and was almost afraid to ask any more questions, but his professionalism prevailed. “What size condoms would you like? They come in large, extra large and big liar sizes.”

The nun thought for a minute, and finally said, “I’m not certain, perhaps you could recommend a good size for a Camel.”

Six-pack Saturday

January 10, 2009 | Six-Pack Saturday

Goal setting is one of those things I love to do. Right up there with to-do lists, budgeting, and organizing things. These tasks satisfy the inner fussbudget. And they serve a purpose.

Where my planning went wrong for years, was failing to distinguish between a goal and an aspiration. A goal is something I can control. An aspiration is a dream.

Nothing wrong with having dreams. Anticipation adds its own form a joy. Having dreams come true puts a pretty bow on top of a satisfying life.

The foundation of contentment doesn’t come from the realization of dreams. It is built brick by brick on the achievement of well-set goals.

Here’s how I set goals:

1) Identify result desired

2) Identify components needed to achieve this result

3) Assess current inventory for necessary components

4) Calculate what is needed

5) Breakdown the requirements into reasonably sized chunks

6) Work on the first component until its been achieved. Repeat.

If there is any section of this plan that is not within my control that portion has to be revised.

Defining and achieving goals is a slow and humbling process. But, it is head and shoulders above sitting around wishing for things to happen.

So what are you doing to make your dreams come true?

Fan Girl Friday

January 9, 2009 | Fan Girl Friday

Because I read excessively, I need a steady supply of good books. I’ve tried a variety of criterion for selection with disappointing results. I want variety, good writing, and entertainment.

Non-fiction is actually much easier, because in that category I’m reading for information and am a great deal less demanding.

Back to keeping myself supplied with literary amusement. My favorite kind of author is, new to me, prolific and reliable.

I’ve found one. Marion Chesney. She writes regency romance with a smooth style the first volume I perused, The Banishment was populated with vivid and likable characters, a nice plot, and satisfactory pacing.

Best of all, she wrote scads of titles. If I pace myself carefully, she will contribute to my reading for pleasure for a long time to come.

It won’t matter to me a whit if she tells me the same story over and over.

For me, reading is like getting dressed. Six days out of seven I wear the same kind of outfit, jeans and a top. All I ask is that they be neat and clean. On those days I go out in public, I’m a little more ambitious, putting on dressier things. And there are even rarer occasions when I want to look fancy. Translating this to reading, most days I want a comfortable, amusing read, i.e., genre fiction. Once a week, I want a story that makes me think. And a few times a year, I want a great piece of literature.

Please share your reading selection methods. Do you have a go-to list of authors? A sure-fire method of picking winners? Tell me about the best book you read last year–or the one you’re looking forward to reading most this year.

PS I have to eat my words already. I just tried Ms. Chesney’s second book. It was equally enjoyable. However, it was exactly the same story and I found reading it twice was quite enough. My list of reliable authors has shrunk again.

Life in the secret garden

January 8, 2009 | Life in the secret garden

Fragrant winter delight, another viburnum bodnantense–either Dawn or Charles Lamont.  Sadly,  it arrived mislabeled and has never been properly identified.   The medium-sized deciduous shrub has the delightful habit of blooming from late fall through winter opening its small, intensely fragrant blossoms in every mild spell.  Yet, cleverly hoarding them in tight bud during bad weather.

WIP Wednesday

January 7, 2009 | WIP Wednesday,writing craft

Back to the future–next

When I wrote Dalila’s Choice I knew that I’d only scratched the surface of the stories teeming on the distant world of Enyo. And there’s always something about the underdog that calls to me. So, the next story belongs to Joon.

As a Belle Amity commander and as a magic wielder she knows everything about courage, discipline, and self-reliance. But, she knows nothing of forming emotional bonds or of passion.

She doesn’t see herself as a romantic figure. Dreaming up her perfect match was easy–getting the lovers through their difficulties to a satisfying resolution will be a challenge… But, that’s the fun part of writing.

For the writers out there in the blogasphere, what’s your favorite part of writing?

For the readers, I’d love to hear about your favorite stories….

Teaser Tuesday

January 6, 2009 | Teaser Tuesday

Last month I was over at the Sizzling Pens blog. In case you missed it, here’s the last freebie from Dangerous Rescue. Of course, you can buy it here.

After exiting off the highway onto the Ocean Shores access road, Ian pulled to a stop at a four-way intersection. He glanced over and found Regan watching him. He brushed a silky strand, which had escaped, back behind her ear. She didn’t pull away. He leaned toward her, taking his time, giving her time to object. She moved closer to him—a tiny movement, but in the right direction.

The attraction, which had sizzled between them from day one flared to life. His lips barely brushed hers. A horn blast spoiled the moment. He jerked back, registering the headlights right behind them.

The kiss had been so brief it hardly counted. Yet, his lips tingled and his ears heated from the remembered sweetness. Something soft touched his arm. He reached out blindly and Regan’s hand snuggled into his.

“I’m glad you were there to today.” She spoke softly, but her words slipped through his defenses, warming his heart.

“Me too, princess,” he said gruffly.

She might make him crazy and uncertain and hopeful. But no matter what she did to him—this time he wasn’t blowing it. Even if she was right and all they had between them was chemistry—then it was lab time.

When they arrived at the cottage, he busied himself with hauling in his luggage, and then the groceries. Watching as she looked over the beach house, trying to see it through her eyes. He wanted to stay optimistic, but the whole place was done in sedate and well-behaved colors–dull. The living area had a boring brown sofa that would cramp more than his style if he had to sleep on it.

She tipped her head toward the master suite with its private bath. Not bad. You want to use the shower first?”

“Nah.” He sat the grocery sacks on the breakfast bar, and then flipped the switch to start the hot tub. He gestured toward the deck where the water bubbled invitingly. “I’m going to soak out there.”

“You have a swim suit?” she asked with what sounded a lot like wistfulness.

Because he had one or because she didn’t?

He lifted the battered leather suitcase, in his left hand in silent answer to her question. Not that he’d insist on wearing it.

“Always prepared,” she murmured.

And ready and willing and able.

Regan moved toward the bedroom. “I’m grabbing a shower then.”

Ian stood, stupidly holding his suitcase. Nothing was working the way he wanted it to. He was much too aware of his own hunger and unsure how hard to push her.

Regan called back from the bedroom. “You want to change first, help yourself.”

“I’m cool. I’ll wait till you’re out of the shower.”

“Why, what’s up?” Regan came back into the living room. The blazer and her shoes were missing.

Ian couldn’t get his mouth to form words. Every thought focused on absorbing the way she looked. Her dark hair hung flat down her back, forming a glossy curtain. The slip covered more of her than a bikini would have, but the color was close to bare and almost as sexy. Her look set fire to his imagination.

The sleek fabric clung to every curve and hollow, drawing attention to the dark smudges made by her areolas and making him painfully aware of her rigid nipples.

He tried to stop ogling her, unsuccessfully and in that instant his thoughts of revenge evaporated like ice in the heat of August.

“Come on. I won’t bite too hard.” Musical laughter floated behind her words as she disappeared into the bedroom.

He hadn’t imagined that invitation.

“You’re sure?” he croaked.

“Yeah, just don’t go making a big deal about it. I need you to be clear about this. We’re just friends with benefits. You’re good about this—about us, right?” Her words drifted through the haze of lust clouding his thoughts.

In your dreams, princess.

“Right,” he lied roughly. The word creaked out of a mouth gone dryer than one of his grandmother’s tea.

She wandered back out, looking more tempting than ever. Dark eyes met his, asking him questions he knew he would agreed to.

“Sorry about the lecture. It must be all that special victim sensitivity training coming out. You are good with just sex?”

“Yeah.”

Oh yeah, whatever you want to call it—as long as it happens soon. Real soon. Like now. Please.

Moving closer, she snaked an arm around his neck, and then touched her lips to his. He opened for her. He surrendered to the kiss, afraid to move. He waited for disaster to strike. Waited for her to pull back. Waited for her to change her mind.

He was so thrilled when she didn’t he damn near disgraced himself before the main event. When he didn’t care, the game of seduction came so easily. But, no matter what he told himself or what he’d agreed to—this was Regan. How could he not care?

She came up for air and he pulled back his head to take in her eyes, half-shut and endlessly dark. An unsolvable mystery. Her mouth was still wet and swollen from his kisses. He brushed the satin covering her back and moved on, stroking skin that was finer than the fabric, trembling as he followed the thin straps down to the lacy edge.

He molded his palm, which seemed way too coarse to touch such perfection, to one of her straining breasts. Her rigid nipple poked into his hand, demanding attention. Her body arched into him and a low needy sound tugged at his balls.

Lowering his head, he drew one insistent nipple into his mouth right through the slip and her lacy bra. When he’d suckled it thoroughly, he pulled back enough to stare at the wet material prodded by the proud peak. The dark nipple puckered, only thinly veiled by the now translucent satin. He bent his head to replicate his attentions on the other side, keeping the first nipple tight by rolling the responsive nub between his fingers.

When he raised his head the second time, she reached for him, tracing the outline of his erection. He captured her hands and held them above her head. His state of arousal, already rode the razor’s edge between pain and pleasure. The last thing he needed was more stimulation.

Music Monday

January 5, 2009 | Music Monday

Trans-Siberian Orchestra\'s Wizards in Winter

Yes, I know Christmas is over. But, I’m still writing a Christmas story. For me nothing else sets the mood as effectively as the right song.

How about you? What kind of stimuli affects your mood? Are you more visually oriented? Scent can be very evocative too. All most anything can trigger emotional memories….

Sunday funnies

January 4, 2009 | Sunday funnies

Subject: Horseback Riding Blonde

A blonde decides to try horseback riding, even though she has had no lessons or prior experience. She mounts the horse unassisted, and the horse immediately springs into motion.

It gallops along at a steady and rhythmic pace, but the blonde begins to slide from the saddle. In terror, she grabs for the horse’s mane, but cannot seem to get a firm grip. Throwing her arms around the horse’s neck, fails to break her slide.

The horse gallops along, seemingly oblivious of its slipping rider. Finally, giving up her frail grip, the blonde attempts to leap away from the horse, throwing herself to safety.

Unfortunately, her foot tangles in the stirrup. Now, she’s at the mercy of the horse’s pounding hooves as her head strikes the ground over and over.

Her head batters the ground. Moments away from unconsciousness, Frank, the trusty Wal-Mart greeter, notices her dilemma and unplugs the horse.

And you thought all they did was say Hello.

As a former blonde, I feel entitled to poke fun.

Six-pack Saturday

January 3, 2009 | Six-Pack Saturday

Six goals for the new year–

1) Write better the first time

2) Accept what can’t be changed with grace

3) Keep trying to change what can be changed

4) Figure out what is changeable before I batter against the brick wall

5) Celebrate the good stuff

6) Let go of the bad stuff

Not that I’m ambitious or anything ….

What would you like to change in the coming year?

Fan Girl Friday

January 2, 2009 | Fan Girl Friday

Thanks to the snow storm in December, I got to read more than usual.

I even broke out an old Miss Silver mystery,which I’d been hoarding for a special treat. Patricia Wentworth wrote a whole slew of Miss Silver’s adventures. Alas, I’ve read most of them. The stories are like watching black and white movies. Written and set in the 1920′s, they are little holidays to another world where the villains are less gruesome and the heroes very British.

For those of us who like it, the stories include a romantic sub-plot.

Anybody get good books for Christmas? Not me, but then I have shelves of them so I’m not deprived.

Anna Campbell’s Tempt The Devil arrived shortly after Christmas. Already the internal debate over whether to save it as a special reward or gobble it up instantly is underway in my head.