i am a ~insert complimentary adjective here~ fuck

•February 7, 2010 • 5 Comments

To a man, without fail, almost without deviation in the delivery, every man i’ve ever encountered, online or offline, tells me he is outstanding in bed.  Better than anyone else … ever.  Fantastic.  Glorious.  Amazing.  To that end, i’m going to ask a very stupid question:

Why do you do this to yourselves?

First of all, if I’ve given you much more than a few hours of my time and attention, your chances are pretty good that i’m going to let you fuck me.  i like fucking, you see.  It feels pretty fucking good.  Your chances increase exponentially with each subsequent hour.  If i haven’t kicked you to the curb, you’re good.  But your chances go down with every single word you use to try to convince me to fuck you.  Because, even if you don’t see it on the outside, on the inside, i’m rolling my eyes.

We’ve heard them all, boys.  Just sayin’.

books & wizards

•January 10, 2010 • 19 Comments

Thanks to everyone who came out for the first book signing for my second novel.  It was wonderful seeing all of you!

This particular book signing was more eventful than most.  For those who have never been to a book signing for a relatively unknown author of mass market paperback romance novels, let me give you a quick rundown of what takes place:

Mostly nothing.

~laughing~  Yup, that’s totally the case!  I always have some wonderful friends show up for whom I am eternally grateful, and such was the case with this particular event.  But, for the most part, my time at a signing consists of parking myself at a table near the entrance with a stack of my latest, and a wide smile.  I toss out a hello to shoppers who are making a grand attempt to avoid eye contact.  Every now and then, I wander back to the romance section to see if I can make a connection.  And, every now and again, someone actually talks with me and has me sign a book.  This book signing, however, was a bit different.

There were wizards.

Uh huh.  I’m perfectly serious, and why-oh-why do I never think to whip out my phone and capture such events for posterity?  Let me see if I can drag out my descriptive skills and set the scene for you.

Well into the second hour of the signing, a young man strode into the store wearing a wizard costume.  Not even a good wizard costume … more like the cheap black maxi-dress type garment of some shiny material one purchases at Wal-Mart at Halloween.   It had a hood, bell sleeves and the required jagged hemline, which would have been way more wizard-y if he hadn’t also had on jeans and black tennis shoes with it.

Everyone stopped and stared as he walked by.  He headed straight for the back of the store, and, after he’d disappeared, things in our part of the bookstore returned to normal.  Briefly.  Because, soon enough, he appeared again, conferred with a group of teenage girls, who wrote something down on a piece of paper, then headed toward … me.

I watched his approach, dying to say something, but it soon became apparent that I was not his target.  Nope.  He walked around my table, whipped out his wand, and addressed a young man who was seated in the café behind me.  ”I challenge you to a duel!”  (The exact conversation escapes me, but that was the general opening line.)

Delighted, I watched to see what the young man who had been challenged would do.  To my utter astonishment, he reached into the pocket of his rather nondescript hoodie, pulled out a wand of his own, and met the challenge!

Best.  Book signing.  Ever.

They exchanged words a few times.  I recognized some of them from Harry Potter.   Others, not so much.  And then, after only thirty seconds or so of verbal wandplay, the wizard announced, “You are too much for me.  I will go find Harry now!”  And, with that, he left the store.

There was no way I was just letting that go.  I turned around to talk to the guy behind me.  ”So, this was all set up, right?”

He shook his head.

“You didn’t know he was coming in here?” I persisted.

He shook his head again.

I raised my brows in disbelief.  ”So you always carry a wand around with you?”

“I’m a Wiccan,” he explained.

“Oh,” I said, and started to turn around, but another thought occurred to me.  ”Wait,” I said.  ”What are the chances a guy would appear in here dressed as a wizard and challenge the one guy who carries a wand around with him to a duel?”

“Well,” he said.  ”I graduated from his high school last year.  I’m pretty well known for carrying around this wand.”

Satisfied, I turned around and began paying attention to the customers again.  And, wouldn’t you know it, the wizard returned.  He found the group of girls again and they huddled up.  I wasn’t letting him get away, this time.  ”Hey, wizard guy,” I called.  The group came over to my table.  I asked what they were up to, and they explained that they were doing a social experiment on how people react to odd situations in public places for a high school class.  They asked a few questions about me and my book (no, I didn’t try to talk the high school kids into buying it) and then wandered on out of the store for good, this time.

So … that was my eventful Saturday.  I hope yours was as amazing.  Be beautiful, my friends.

~kisses for the world~

chill

•January 6, 2010 • Leave a Comment

It is cold tonight, and i am thinking of you.  The sound of your voice, your touch.  The way you are tender, even through my volatility.  The way you laugh when i am angry, and then laugh more because it makes me angry, until i can’t help but laugh at myself.  And then you kiss me.

The way you never ever ever stay mad at me.

Tonight, it is cold, but i am warm.  Because i am thinking of you.

embracing …

•January 1, 2010 • Leave a Comment

… all those i’ve ever loved, those i have yet to love, and everyone in between.  Happy New Year, beautiful friends.

shiver

i tremble
though i am not cold
quite the opposite, in fact
curled as i am in my nest
of pillows and blankets, lined with my dreams

oh, how i shiver

i tremble
though i am not frightened
the sound of your voice
uncurls and echos and
touches me  in places i’ve tried to forget

oh, how i shiver

i tremble
and draw the past closely around me
on this night of new beginnings
and i watch and i wait

and oh, how i shiver

an open letter to anyone i’ve ever dated, fucked, married, or whatevered

•December 31, 2009 • 2 Comments

Dear … (hmm, not sure what to call you, collectively),

Do you all have a club, or something?  Is there some kind of bat signal that goes out when I have a deadline that makes you all converge upon me in various ways as if in an attempt to distract me from the very thing i do that distracts me from you?

Oh, it’s not that you’re all bad with the converging.  On the contrary.  With you, i’m dancing a new dance we both know ever so well on Facebook.  With you, i’m enjoying a tentative correspondence.  With you … oh, hell, with you, i’m enjoying nothing, but your silence is as pervasive as your presence, so what fucking difference does it make anyway?  And with you … ahh.  i do so enjoy our little Yahoo chats.  Just not right now.

Here’s the thing, ‘kay?  My deadline is tomorrow, technically.  I should be writing … oh, say, about 40,000 words tonight.  Of course, we have that whole holiday thing going on, and i happen to know editor guy is off on vacation until Monday, so i have four extra days to write those 40K words, but let’s be realistic here.

i’m not going to get it done if you’re all playing around with my brain.  (Heart.)  No … brain.  (Heart.)  Fuckers.

Run along and play now, boys.

elise

black hole

•December 28, 2009 • 4 Comments

The fact that you feel you must tuck me away where no one can see speaks volumes.  Some god you are.  Even the light of a single candle cannot escape a black hole.

Well, two can play that game.  i might not be able to exorcise you from my heart or from my mind … not completely.  But i can do a damn fine impression of having done so.

Just.  Like.  You.

Arrogance isn’t just for sadists anymore.

monkey bread

•December 27, 2009 • Leave a Comment

It’s been years, actually, since i’ve had monkey bread.  Do you know what it is?  That yummy, gooey, cinnamon-y ring of bread that one bakes in a bundt pan so that it can be pulled apart and enjoyed in pieces.

My life, lately, is like monkey bread.

i’m pulled and tugged from every angle, most of it good.  Professional deadlines, self-imposed deadlines, book signings, family, and the holidays have had me spinning.  It’s all coming to a head this week, and it will all culminate, ironically, just in time for the New Year.  So my plate will clear (a bit … it never really all goes away) just in time for some resolutions.

My love life has been a like a patchwork quilt with no discernible pattern.  G was (and will likely always be) the biggest patch … and the most flawed.  There’s no getting around that, and i doubt i’d change it even if i could.  Mixed in there was Daniel, and R, and S, and John, and the one and two daters that never really became anything in particular, and a reconnection with the very first love of my life.  i’ve been deliberately evasive in my relationships, and, with the exception of G, have always pulled back and/or disengaged when they showed an interest in making things more … serious.

Serious.  Yes, i suppose that’s as good a word as any.

And, on the periphery of it all, a shadow.  i’m so angry right now, though you wouldn’t know it to look at me.  i’m the picture of outward calm, of serenity, of happiness, but inside, i’m a seething, roiling, mass of anger.  Some things are just so senseless … and, believe me, i include my own actions in that statement.  It’s been days now, and my anger hasn’t receded.  That’s not like me.

A new year approaches.  Loose ends will be tied up.  A move is in the cards for me this year, one that will close some circles and open some new ones.  It’s all an evolution.  Beginnings and endings, blah blah blah.  Maybe by this time next year, i’ll be something more substantial than monkey bread.

soiled, part twenty-one

•December 24, 2009 • 8 Comments

This is a continuation.  You might wish to follow this link to the beginning:  soiled, part one

The weeks passed without further event.  Fall became winter, melting into the holidays with no more than a subtle whisper.  The garish commercialism of Christmas made it impossible to miss, but Daños paid little attention to the world at large.  His life consisted of home, car, office, and gym, typically in that order each day, and then reversed at the end of it.

Work was a boon and, at first, a solace.  Meetings and projects consumed all of his time at the office, and much of his time at home.  Sleep came only when it refused to be pushed aside, and those times hit him so quickly and hard that he often didn’t even make it home.  Exhaustion dictated he err on the side of caution, but only for the sake of others did he do so.  A cab ride to the apartment he kept in the city spared those with whom he’d have shared the road, spared his life as well.

Not that Daños cared.  His life, such as it was, mattered little to him.

***

“You promised.”  Chloe’s face was earnest, though a bit pinched and wan.  It hurt Michael to see her out and about, keeping diligently to her word that she’d let him handle the Chamber, that she’d not push the issue until he could find a way to convince them to reinstate her.  Without her wings, she was unable to do more than teach some classes at the Angel Academy, where she was viewed by the other Instructors as a cautionary tale, an example to point out to the fledging and very impressionable Guardian pupils.  She’d endured stares, whispers, and occasional direct rudeness without complaint.  Indeed, she took the abuse as if it were her punishment.

It was an unprecedented request.  And it wasn’t going well.

“It isn’t that she cannot earn back her wings,” said Gabriel for the fifth time.  He kept trying to drive this point home, astounded that both Michael and Chloe were sticking to their insistence that she not only earn back her wings, but that she be allowed to retain her Guardian status.  Even that wasn’t entirely out of reach, given the fact that the entire situation had been created by circumstances beyond her control.  Her intentions had never been selfish, had never been anything but in keeping with what she thought was the best interest of her Charge.  But Chloe wanted it all.

She wished to be reassigned to the human Daños.

“Out of the question.”  This from David, who looked as though he were reaching the end of his patience with the entire process.  ”She’s behaved admirably since you recalled her from the … situation.”

“She’s in love with him,” stated Rafael, his tone laced with derision.  ”She’s committed the cardinal sin of Guardianship in developing feelings for her charge.”  He leveled a look on Michael.  ”And you are altogether too fond of her yourself.”

It was true.  Michael looked down at Chloe, and knew he lacked objectivity where she was concerned.  She was rare and fine and spectacularly unhappy.  Her misery was his fault, despite the computer glitch.  He should have caught it, and he should have handled her better from the beginning.  ”Yes,” he said.  ”I did promise.  And I’ve done my best.  I can offer you only this.  The Chamber refuses to consider any other alternative, and will consider the matter closed after today.  You’ll have to decide, Chloe.”

She looked down and scuffed the toe of her sandal along one of the indentions in the golden pavement.  Her voice caught on her next words.  ”One whole night and one whole day?”

“Twenty-four human hours.  If you go now, you’ll arrive in the early evening.”

“Will he know me?  Remember me?”

Michael hesitated.  ”It’s hard to say.  We don’t quite understand the connection.  He felt you in those pre-Initial Contact events you tried to sneak in.”  Chloe’s eyes widened.  ”It’s all been reviewed.  There is nothing the Chamber doesn’t know.”  He smiled a bit.  ”I think it is the level at which you sense one another that led the Chamber to finally agree to this small compromise.  They wish to observe the Event.”

“I’ll do it,” she whispered.  ”Go tell them.  Please.  Send me now.”  She turned away, then stopped in surprise.  Her wings reappeared with a delicate shimmer.

“They already know.  Godspeed, Chloe.”

***

Daños sat before the fire in his large leather club chair, his long legs extended before him, crossed at the ankles, idly tapping his index finger against his lips.  He lounged slightly to the side and stared into the dancing flames.  When they blew slightly inward from a disturbance in the air, he noted it, but didn’t react.  A moment later he felt her step up behind his chair.  ”Go away, angel.”

“I … c-can’t.”

“You will.  I have no desire to see you, and your intentions, whatever they may be, are misplaced.  You cannot save me.”

Chloe stepped around the chair and knelt beside his outstretched legs.  She slipped her hand beneath his.  ”Look at me, please.”

Daños lifted and turned his head to look down at the girl who had consumed his thoughts.  She was clad in the same sort of diaphanous garment in which he’d found her the night she’d turned up, sodden and pitiful, in his front yard.  This time, however, it was not soaked and torn.  It clung to her slender form and settled about her knees in a shimmering pool, but it wasn’t what she wore that made him sit suddenly straighter in his chair.

While he watched, she spread her wings slightly, then settled them around her shoulders, bowed her head and rested her forehead on the back of the hand that covered hers on his thigh.  Despite his words, he reached with his other hand and buried it in the dark curls at the crown of her head.  ”Chloe,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

She lifted eyes shining with unshed tears.  ”Merry Christmas, Daños.”

part twenty-two

christmas eve eve

•December 23, 2009 • 2 Comments

… is an important day for me.  i’ll spend it quietly tonight, writing and thinking and remembering.

drive time

•December 20, 2009 • 2 Comments

Totally blew off the deadline on my third book yesterday in favor of prepping my local mini “book tour” for my second book (due on shelves December 29th, and already shipping from Amazon.)  This involved driving around Charlotte, visiting bookstores to drop off promotional covers and business cards, and meeting (or, in one case, reacquainting myself with) the managers.  This takes a great deal more time the weekend before Christmas than usual.  Finding a parking space, for instance, was an adventure.  But, for the most part, it is handled.  I still have to branch out toward the western area, and maybe venture north to the University area … we’ll have to see.

The drive afforded me some time to relax, too, which was nice.  I hadn’t had a chance to just listen to some new music i’ve been intending to get to in more depth.  I’d given it a once through, and loved it … but I hadn’t listened to it.  Yesterday gave me that chance, and I bopped along in the Hybrid, singing at the top of my lungs, between bookstores.  Good stuff, good times … and a great album, by the way.  If you don’t have it, I strongly encourage you to pick up Paramore’s brand new eyes.

When I do things like this, I tend to avoid the freeways, preferring to tool along the surface streets and see what I can see.  I’m a back roads kinda girl, despite my penchant for the culture and quirks that tickle my creative soul one can typically only find in or near a large city.  Driving soothes me, and I become an extension of my car (or vice versa, perhaps.)  It was, all in all, a pretty wonderful day.  And now Sunday is here.  Back to the deadline.  I’ll take the time the evening to make a pot of Christmas gumbo for my friends at work who donated funds so that I could do so, but, for the most part, today is dedicated to that third novel.

Those of you who pre-ordered my second book Amazon have likely already received it.  Some of you have let me know (i’m lookin’ at you, sassy!) … so thank you.  I hope you enjoy.  I become incredibly nervous at this time.  Some compare a book hitting the shelves to birthing a child.  I don’t.  For me, it is more like … nudging that child into kindergarten for the first time.  You hope you’ve prepared him/her well, and that he/she will shine.  Because, for the first time, it’s out of your hands.  I’m so grateful to all of you, whether I know you or not.

~kisses for the world~