Plus, I'm the nice chick who gives you eye candy. You should do what I say.
Showing posts with label Mia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mia. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Interviewing without getting real answers, because why not?
... is what I'm blogging about today at the Evo blog. Stop by and tell me what you think about my interviewee.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I want extra copulance please.
What am I talking about? The female sex hormone. Go here and watch. It's a moment or two and fascinating. Evidently, women have an arsenal of invisible lust makers. Men who think they know a woman is pretty or not according to their preferences, suddenly think all women are beautiful in the presence of excreted copulance. It interferes with their brains.
I am of the opinion that there are several things that interfere with a man's brain: A woman's availability, amount of beer consumed, and severity of erection (throbbing genitalia might create greater urgency, you see).
Other shit: The boss was a bit peeved yesterday. It seems he doesn't appreciate kind gestures wherein an anonymous employee leaves sticky notes of affection on his monitor along with a portable packet of tissues for his K lust-drool. More's the pity.
For those who have been following along: I occasionally put sticky notes in his things. Usually showing affection, and typically without a reference alluding to portions of answers on things never asked. Boss is easily confused and this amuses me greatly.
Note to self: "Mia, good use of slogan."
I am of the opinion that there are several things that interfere with a man's brain: A woman's availability, amount of beer consumed, and severity of erection (throbbing genitalia might create greater urgency, you see).
Other shit: The boss was a bit peeved yesterday. It seems he doesn't appreciate kind gestures wherein an anonymous employee leaves sticky notes of affection on his monitor along with a portable packet of tissues for his K lust-drool. More's the pity.
For those who have been following along: I occasionally put sticky notes in his things. Usually showing affection, and typically without a reference alluding to portions of answers on things never asked. Boss is easily confused and this amuses me greatly.
Note to self: "Mia, good use of slogan."
Monday, May 18, 2009
Ordinary Goddesses
Some authors are taking a dare to bare. They've posted pictures of themselves on their blogs. I won't be one of them. While I have naturally ruby red lips and black lined eyes, I refuse to squash the mystery. View the few: Cindy Spencer-Pape, Anny Cook, Regina Carlysle, Barbara Huffert, Taylor Tryst.
I have a book release tomorrow. Sex Ed (link on right margin) is out Tuesday around noon. It's releasing with three others in the Hot for Teacher realm. Excerpt? Why yes, so glad you asked. Follow the Mia's Books tab at the top of this page.
In other news, buffalo wings from Applebees aren't worth the effort.
Note to self: "Mia, beginning of a new week. Try not to spew water on D."
I have a book release tomorrow. Sex Ed (link on right margin) is out Tuesday around noon. It's releasing with three others in the Hot for Teacher realm. Excerpt? Why yes, so glad you asked. Follow the Mia's Books tab at the top of this page.
In other news, buffalo wings from Applebees aren't worth the effort.
Note to self: "Mia, beginning of a new week. Try not to spew water on D."
Friday, May 15, 2009
Being Venus
I wonder about the plot drivers of Angels and Demons. Secret societies in particular. One expert said, "The purpose of all secret societies is to rule the masses." Did he poll them? If they're secret, how do we know he speaks the truth? Wouldn't a secret society lose its secret status if it confessed to goals of world domination? And what if there were a secret society which wanted no more than to replace all margarine products with the real butter but didn't speak up as they were better secret keepers than the other secret societies?
Another curiosity. The Illuminati means, "The Enlightened Ones". Of course they were. If you lived in a time without electricity, wore long robes and hoods, moved about at night with candles, you too would light the wick, no? Perhaps they meant only to bear a flame so as not to trip on slippery unlit steps of ancient cathedrals.
Other shit: I still haven't located the popcorn culprit. I'd nearly forgotten but I got in to work yesterday and found several kernels beneath my chair. I know this because I ducked under my desk to pick up a dropped pen when D walked by. I've been able to avoid him successfully since my stint as Fountain Venus. Apparently my bravado in front of the coworkers was short lived. Or it may have had something to do with the coffee stain on the front of my blouse. Either way, I didn't think before I ducked. Pure instinct. Cunning and mature, no?
Luckily, my pen was found easily enough.
Note to self: "Mia, splatter more coffee on front and claim the blouse is a new Rorschach pattern in vogue for Summer."
Another curiosity. The Illuminati means, "The Enlightened Ones". Of course they were. If you lived in a time without electricity, wore long robes and hoods, moved about at night with candles, you too would light the wick, no? Perhaps they meant only to bear a flame so as not to trip on slippery unlit steps of ancient cathedrals.
Other shit: I still haven't located the popcorn culprit. I'd nearly forgotten but I got in to work yesterday and found several kernels beneath my chair. I know this because I ducked under my desk to pick up a dropped pen when D walked by. I've been able to avoid him successfully since my stint as Fountain Venus. Apparently my bravado in front of the coworkers was short lived. Or it may have had something to do with the coffee stain on the front of my blouse. Either way, I didn't think before I ducked. Pure instinct. Cunning and mature, no?
Luckily, my pen was found easily enough.
Note to self: "Mia, splatter more coffee on front and claim the blouse is a new Rorschach pattern in vogue for Summer."
Thursday, May 14, 2009
ePIRACY ARG!
Two mornings ago I went through my usual google search. Authors and publishers know to do this on occassion because our work shows up in unapproved forums. As expected, the search pulled up pirate sites which had allowed my books to be uploaded for the general access to all and sundry.
I know that readers think it's no different than lending a book out, a library, or used book sales, but that isn't the case. The internet is a universal access point. The damage is widespread. The theft is massive. Consider that the author who spends hours a day, sometimes for months on a single project, makes a percentage of sales. A short story selling for just under three dollars might net the author sixty cents per sale. We pay our own taxes, pay social security and federal taxes. If the publisher is international, there is the conversion rate to consider. Then consider that popularity of a book fades after just a few months.
In polling several authors, mainstream and erotic, I found that sales can be as low as a few dollars a month. Most publishers won't issue a check below a certain sales figure. I know one author who wasn't paid royalties for five months because sales and conversion rate put her beneath the minimum earning rate for a check to be issued. Now consider that most writers have families or day jobs or both.
Piracy is piracy. Stealing from a hardworking person, taking from their store of creativity isn't suddenly right because you are internet-faceless. It is tantamount to a stranger walking in off the street, going into your desk, stealing confidential files you've worked months on and selling it as his own.
The author doesn't get paid. Their families, children, household income suffers significantly. They depend on the income to make ends meet whatever the economy. Some authors may feel giveaways help them. Fine. Let them give away copies without limitations, that's their choice. But making the universal choice for someone else about their work is a violation of copyright, a violation of creative integrity, and a violation of someones financial support structure.
We don't make much. Even those of us who do well still need outside work to pay the bills. We don't strut around in feather boas and lounge in silk pyjamas. We don't have pool-boys peeling grapes for us. We're like the readers, the general workforce, out there who make a living doing what we know how to do and hoping we bring joy in the process.
I'm being stolen from. The site has been given a cease and desist. They took it down and another person re-posted my work. I can see the number of times it has been downloaded and I know that number will reflect in my publication check. And I'm not alone.
I know that readers think it's no different than lending a book out, a library, or used book sales, but that isn't the case. The internet is a universal access point. The damage is widespread. The theft is massive. Consider that the author who spends hours a day, sometimes for months on a single project, makes a percentage of sales. A short story selling for just under three dollars might net the author sixty cents per sale. We pay our own taxes, pay social security and federal taxes. If the publisher is international, there is the conversion rate to consider. Then consider that popularity of a book fades after just a few months.
In polling several authors, mainstream and erotic, I found that sales can be as low as a few dollars a month. Most publishers won't issue a check below a certain sales figure. I know one author who wasn't paid royalties for five months because sales and conversion rate put her beneath the minimum earning rate for a check to be issued. Now consider that most writers have families or day jobs or both.
Piracy is piracy. Stealing from a hardworking person, taking from their store of creativity isn't suddenly right because you are internet-faceless. It is tantamount to a stranger walking in off the street, going into your desk, stealing confidential files you've worked months on and selling it as his own.
The author doesn't get paid. Their families, children, household income suffers significantly. They depend on the income to make ends meet whatever the economy. Some authors may feel giveaways help them. Fine. Let them give away copies without limitations, that's their choice. But making the universal choice for someone else about their work is a violation of copyright, a violation of creative integrity, and a violation of someones financial support structure.
We don't make much. Even those of us who do well still need outside work to pay the bills. We don't strut around in feather boas and lounge in silk pyjamas. We don't have pool-boys peeling grapes for us. We're like the readers, the general workforce, out there who make a living doing what we know how to do and hoping we bring joy in the process.
I'm being stolen from. The site has been given a cease and desist. They took it down and another person re-posted my work. I can see the number of times it has been downloaded and I know that number will reflect in my publication check. And I'm not alone.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I HAVE A LOVE AFFAIR WITH BLOCK QUOTES EVEN THOUGH I TRULY HATE THE SPACING ISSUES
I've begun Mind F*cked. Only six hundred words in and my internal editor has begun yapping. Meanwhile, I received an email from one of my publishers that edits will arrive in my inbox within minutes. Which is where I suddenly remember that, oh yes, I have a release out next Tuesday.
Technically, Sex Ed is part of the Hot for Teacher anthology along with stories by Bronwyn Green, Brynn Paulin, and Cara Hart, though they'll be sold separately. All release on the 19th and all get bound together for print publication in ninety days with a completely different cover. My recommendation, if you care to hear it, is to purchase the individual story you wish to read thus keeping your expense low. Preferably mine if you must choose. Ideally, all as they are well written jewels of creative effort.
The blurb looks something like this:
Mina Lasky has a pesky crush on Biology professor, Derek Link. They’ve worked in tandem in the same University facility long enough that even the sound of his voice makes her hot. It’s time to put the fantasy to an end. Mina signs up to be his guinea pig in a female sexuality lab for those on the doctorate track. She hopes to work Derek out of her system while enjoying some much needed sexual stimulation.
Dr. Derek Link has been itching to get his hands on the quiet, sexy Chemistry professor. He can’t believe his luck when she signs up to be his lab. But one night isn’t enough and Mina won’t admit they can have something a lot more long term.
And when one of the students recognizes Mina, her heart isn’t the only thing on the line. With her career in the hands of a blackmailer, and her heart begging to trust Derek, she’s beginning to think the lab was a very bad idea.
Other shit: I ran into D today. Well, not actually. It was more like I found myself sipping from a fountain (as I do when thirsty), swung around to return to my cube, saw D checking out my assets, and choked. Except choke would suggest the water in my mouth went down my throat with definitely did not occur. But I did discover two things: A pale silk necktie looks nearly cobalt when wet. And a second dimple comes out of hiding when D laughs. Which he did. A lot.
Note to self: "Mia, invest in water bottle."
I hereby declare that Love Bites is a goddess of brilliance. Do you see that
sexy spacing up there? Yeah, she did that. No more block quote issues.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
THE NASTY SERPENT
I've met a woman of pure venom. She's the snake in the grass, slithering ever forward on her quest to deliver a lethal bite. She has lovely colors to catch the eye, but an extraordinary gift of fading around the edges until your eye skips over her--aware, but believing she is harmless, camouflaged.
She hisses and occasionally rattles warnings with a lilt which beguiles for its unusual quality. It creates nervousness for the bite, yet still draws you in, as curiosity is her bait. She doesn't hide in tall grass, but openly sunning herself, twisting this way and that in sinuous turns beneath the attention and tension. She smiles cunningly and waits. She draws you nearer still with antics that make you chuckle and lower your guard. She inspires loyalty and once she has it, she whips it at you with stinging accuracy.
Don't understand her. Don't coddle or try to care about her. Don't offer her friendship. These will be your downfall. For then she will show her fangs with venom dripping precision. She will snap at you until you feel wounded for caring. Despite what you think, you cannot do well by her, ever. She is a loner and her viciousness keeps her that way.
And yet it is not the sinking of fangs into flesh which leaves you hurt, it is the abrupt retreat, the flash of colors on her slinking back, the forlorn look as she turns once or twice --as though your friendship injured her--and it is the attack of her slithering tongue with half-truths and innuendos which close your veins in chilled shock.
She watches you without eyes. You watch her, awaiting the strike and being careful to avoid it. You take a wide berth but cannot worry for your friends who've become just as easily captivated by her bold colors and winsome ways, who you know will nurse their wounds too, one day.
She continues, knowing you know and with a smirk upon her serpentine lips she gosses and plonks and talks about her home while insulting yours and you for being there. And here is the venom for she spills her venom with words and behavior to the horrible ends of the internet, leaving bitten but wizened bodies behind. She counts them on her serpentine spines as successes, not seeing the twisted decay it becomes in her as she is left ever alone with another burned bridge stranding her on her lovely isle, one fewer than before.
The lovely snake is a lonely creature. She is bitter and unpleasant. She admonishes and distorts. She hates being told how to be or what to say all the while insisting others attend her, alter their course to please her. Her opinion is the only truth she knows and she will fail for she is ignorant and silly. Her collected victims grow in number, shake their heads, and point with red-tipped fingers: "Pull your head in. You've caused enough damage, snake. Be gone."
And the survivors are more than she, better than she, and not alone as she. They pull up and move on despite the chattering of fangs behind their backs when she vainly tries to recapture the sunlight of their attention for her basking. It grows ever colder for her though she doesn't see it.
Be gone, serpent. You've few bridges left.
She hisses and occasionally rattles warnings with a lilt which beguiles for its unusual quality. It creates nervousness for the bite, yet still draws you in, as curiosity is her bait. She doesn't hide in tall grass, but openly sunning herself, twisting this way and that in sinuous turns beneath the attention and tension. She smiles cunningly and waits. She draws you nearer still with antics that make you chuckle and lower your guard. She inspires loyalty and once she has it, she whips it at you with stinging accuracy.
Don't understand her. Don't coddle or try to care about her. Don't offer her friendship. These will be your downfall. For then she will show her fangs with venom dripping precision. She will snap at you until you feel wounded for caring. Despite what you think, you cannot do well by her, ever. She is a loner and her viciousness keeps her that way.
And yet it is not the sinking of fangs into flesh which leaves you hurt, it is the abrupt retreat, the flash of colors on her slinking back, the forlorn look as she turns once or twice --as though your friendship injured her--and it is the attack of her slithering tongue with half-truths and innuendos which close your veins in chilled shock.
She watches you without eyes. You watch her, awaiting the strike and being careful to avoid it. You take a wide berth but cannot worry for your friends who've become just as easily captivated by her bold colors and winsome ways, who you know will nurse their wounds too, one day.
She continues, knowing you know and with a smirk upon her serpentine lips she gosses and plonks and talks about her home while insulting yours and you for being there. And here is the venom for she spills her venom with words and behavior to the horrible ends of the internet, leaving bitten but wizened bodies behind. She counts them on her serpentine spines as successes, not seeing the twisted decay it becomes in her as she is left ever alone with another burned bridge stranding her on her lovely isle, one fewer than before.
The lovely snake is a lonely creature. She is bitter and unpleasant. She admonishes and distorts. She hates being told how to be or what to say all the while insisting others attend her, alter their course to please her. Her opinion is the only truth she knows and she will fail for she is ignorant and silly. Her collected victims grow in number, shake their heads, and point with red-tipped fingers: "Pull your head in. You've caused enough damage, snake. Be gone."
And the survivors are more than she, better than she, and not alone as she. They pull up and move on despite the chattering of fangs behind their backs when she vainly tries to recapture the sunlight of their attention for her basking. It grows ever colder for her though she doesn't see it.
Be gone, serpent. You've few bridges left.
Monday, May 11, 2009
RELEASE DATE WHORE
I am one. If there's an open release date dangling in the wind, I'm the one who's going to lob in there and snatch it (pardon the pun). Recently, fabulous and extraordinary publishing house Resplendence gave me a release date choice with other authors. The majority chose the extended date and we were given January 2010.
Being true to myself and ever so professional, I whined. Good natured, I assure you, to the senior editor who had initially presented the dates. She's a friend and laughed, as was intended. However, she also came back with an offer. If I could come up with a short story to fit their Handcuffs and Lace line, they had an opening for me on November 17th this year.
Being true (note paragraph above and first paragraph in reference to my whoredom) I said, "Mine." The next email requested a proposal and a title. Hm. Harder. Yet prevailing on toward the satisfaction of my Jon (the senior editor who wanted to see me paid), come up with a proposal I did. My exact words were:
To which she then requested a title. Bugger.
I provided the standard five with mild humor and appeal. I liked Dragged and He's My Girl. Senior editor requested more. By the end of a second list I, in typical form, loaded the list with joke titles. Cocked Up, Cop A Feel, She's Got Balls, and a few more.
On Friday the winning candidate was chosen: She's Got Balls.
I'm so proud. Actually, it's growing on me (pardon the nasty visual) and perfectly suits the story, no? No, it's okay to groan. Just do it all together in chorus... one, two, three....!!
Note to self: "Mia, give senior editor a friendly slap on the ass. You've got to appreciate a publisher with a sense of humor."
Being true to myself and ever so professional, I whined. Good natured, I assure you, to the senior editor who had initially presented the dates. She's a friend and laughed, as was intended. However, she also came back with an offer. If I could come up with a short story to fit their Handcuffs and Lace line, they had an opening for me on November 17th this year.
Being true (note paragraph above and first paragraph in reference to my whoredom) I said, "Mine." The next email requested a proposal and a title. Hm. Harder. Yet prevailing on toward the satisfaction of my Jon (the senior editor who wanted to see me paid), come up with a proposal I did. My exact words were:
Um, might kick myself later, but I'm in. I'm going for M/M. I don't have a full proposal yet, but the idea is they are cops... one FBI one local authority (because I like the tension between the two branches) assigned to work together in an undercover operation. One of the guys has to go drag (much hilarity ensues with running jokes and sarcasm and "who's your daddy"). Right now I'm thinking it has to be a suburban drug ring run by housewives (like Weeds but not) and they are staked out in a cookie cutter house (like Stakeout but also not). Did I vague that up enough? Will it fly?
To which she then requested a title. Bugger.
I provided the standard five with mild humor and appeal. I liked Dragged and He's My Girl. Senior editor requested more. By the end of a second list I, in typical form, loaded the list with joke titles. Cocked Up, Cop A Feel, She's Got Balls, and a few more.
On Friday the winning candidate was chosen: She's Got Balls.
I'm so proud. Actually, it's growing on me (pardon the nasty visual) and perfectly suits the story, no? No, it's okay to groan. Just do it all together in chorus... one, two, three....!!
Note to self: "Mia, give senior editor a friendly slap on the ass. You've got to appreciate a publisher with a sense of humor."
Friday, May 8, 2009
DOG DAMN TIRED OF HTML
Like the look? I do. And after fourteen hours of hunting and pecking out html code from four different skins and my own head, this is what I came up with. If nothing else, I know the process and I can do it again if I decide to change it. Not bad for someone who doesn't know code.
I'm even too bleeding tired to talk in partial sentences and be all cryptic (I'm posting this the night before because I love you, but I won't wake up at BFEarly in the morning to post). Sorry, this is what you get when I'm off for the day and have nothing more pleasant than code to write. Fuck that. I have tons to do, but this code thing has been kicking my ass and I was sick of not understanding it. I'd like to think I'm a quick study, but there is nothing in me that wants to do this again anytime soon.
Regardless of the credit I'm sure they'll take, that lame-ass blog which did a review and which I removed from my blog-roll, have nothing to do with this alteration. I've been trying to figure it out for a while now. And aside from the blaring white letters you're reading at this second (yep, this one right here) I'm fairly pleased with the finished product.
Other shit: My supervisor called me late morning today (erm yesterday based on posting times) because he can't remember if he filed a certain company portfolio under the group or the administrator and never bothered to learn the system to look it up. Yes, sir. While I'm blowing my possibly Swine Flu contaminated bacteria into this handy disposable kerchief, let me muddle through the mucus in my mind and see if I can find it for you. Because there isn't possibly anyone else in the office who could take care of it... WHILE I'M OUT. I'm sorry did your eardrum pop? My bad.
Note to self: "Mia, next time he calls, tell him you contracted a computer virus and it's contagious. Follow it up with a ringing oink."
I'm even too bleeding tired to talk in partial sentences and be all cryptic (I'm posting this the night before because I love you, but I won't wake up at BFEarly in the morning to post). Sorry, this is what you get when I'm off for the day and have nothing more pleasant than code to write. Fuck that. I have tons to do, but this code thing has been kicking my ass and I was sick of not understanding it. I'd like to think I'm a quick study, but there is nothing in me that wants to do this again anytime soon.
Regardless of the credit I'm sure they'll take, that lame-ass blog which did a review and which I removed from my blog-roll, have nothing to do with this alteration. I've been trying to figure it out for a while now. And aside from the blaring white letters you're reading at this second (yep, this one right here) I'm fairly pleased with the finished product.
Other shit: My supervisor called me late morning today (erm yesterday based on posting times) because he can't remember if he filed a certain company portfolio under the group or the administrator and never bothered to learn the system to look it up. Yes, sir. While I'm blowing my possibly Swine Flu contaminated bacteria into this handy disposable kerchief, let me muddle through the mucus in my mind and see if I can find it for you. Because there isn't possibly anyone else in the office who could take care of it... WHILE I'M OUT. I'm sorry did your eardrum pop? My bad.
Note to self: "Mia, next time he calls, tell him you contracted a computer virus and it's contagious. Follow it up with a ringing oink."
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Have you seen my PL?
New Contracts:
1. Open Sesame, short m/m story was contracted as part of a multiple author anthology entitled Not Quite Wicked at RP.
2. Untitled, short m/m story was contracted for the Cuffs and Lace line at RP.
Keeping track? That would be eight contracts in the last three months. I suspect my free time will be somewhat limited, no? Job security. Job security. Job security.
I adore electronic gadgets. Particularly, reading gadgets and laptops. There's a lot of interest in the Kindle and Kindle 2, some heavy promotion of Sony eReader last year, and prior to that the eBookreader and rocketbook. I own two ebookreader devices and a Sony. Though I've wanted a Kindle, it was quickly upgraded by the Kindle 2. It's the way of things technical. They grow into bigger ideas, stronger concepts, more appealing products. But inherently I have difficulty trusting a company who updates its products with the speed Kindle has.
There's a new product releasing 2010 which has me drooling like a child in a candy store. Look at this and tell me you don't agree. I want to have its electronic babies. Don't understand? Review the FAQs regarding wireless, screen editing options, software compatibility, battery longevity. This is the future of digital readers and I want to be on the front line.
Had to share my current obsession as it occurs to me that not many in our industry are yet aware of PL.
Note to self: "Mia, get off soapbox. It is entirely too serious up here."
1. Open Sesame, short m/m story was contracted as part of a multiple author anthology entitled Not Quite Wicked at RP.
2. Untitled, short m/m story was contracted for the Cuffs and Lace line at RP.
Keeping track? That would be eight contracts in the last three months. I suspect my free time will be somewhat limited, no? Job security. Job security. Job security.
I adore electronic gadgets. Particularly, reading gadgets and laptops. There's a lot of interest in the Kindle and Kindle 2, some heavy promotion of Sony eReader last year, and prior to that the eBookreader and rocketbook. I own two ebookreader devices and a Sony. Though I've wanted a Kindle, it was quickly upgraded by the Kindle 2. It's the way of things technical. They grow into bigger ideas, stronger concepts, more appealing products. But inherently I have difficulty trusting a company who updates its products with the speed Kindle has.
There's a new product releasing 2010 which has me drooling like a child in a candy store. Look at this and tell me you don't agree. I want to have its electronic babies. Don't understand? Review the FAQs regarding wireless, screen editing options, software compatibility, battery longevity. This is the future of digital readers and I want to be on the front line.
Had to share my current obsession as it occurs to me that not many in our industry are yet aware of PL.
Note to self: "Mia, get off soapbox. It is entirely too serious up here."
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Angels
Jennifer Madden won an impromptu draw from yesterday's chat at Ellora's Cave. Jennifer, contact me for a free download of Claimed by Darkness. wattsmia@aol.com
Reviewed by: NeNe
Thank you, NeNe.
Claimed by Darkness
Vampire Damien has enjoyed his twelve-year friendship with Dr. Wolfrik Usher. He believes Rik to be The Keeper, the savior of the vampire race, while the wolves believe Rik is also the one spoken of in their prophecy. Everything changes when a wolf bites Rik and the attraction they have tried to contain comes crashing down on them both. The need for a cure is at hand, while fight for dominance will take place in and out of the bedroom. A war is at hand, and the lines that separate enemies and comrades will fade. After twelve years of friendship, can their new sexual desires damage their relationship or strengthen it?
Mia Watts is definitely going on my list of authors to watch for. Claimed by Darkness delivers action, suspense, chili pepper hot erotic encounters, and centers them all on a prophecy that could mean the beginning of a renewed future or the end of the existence for vampires. Damien has lived for hundreds of years, and has never had a lover affect him as Rik does. Rik is handsome, intelligent, and sexy as sin. Top that off with his lust for Damien and desire to help all who need it, and his appeal goes up quite a few notches. Their chemistry is well balanced even if it's supercharged with over twelve years of lust, and left me baffled how either man was able to walk after their encounters. This is definitely one to read if you want the story hot, but a good plot to go with the encounters. Reviewed by: NeNe
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Pucker up, son.
Have been informed that my stunted sentence structure is irritating to some irregular readers. Pity. I do have to concede that it is not similar to my writing style nor my speaking style. Also concede blog background is not favorable. Still looking for an alternate as mentioned in a previous blog (clearly missed by the not so astute) and learning html as I go.
Props to the readers, fans, fellow writers who offered support off comment. Also to the heartfelt individual, petite and silver of coloring, who took to blog war on my behalf. Promise, love, to let me take all the hits next time? I don't mind. It's dedication from those like you who encourage me and I appreciate you.
546.
What's that you ask? The number of hits to this blog generated by the blog war. All publicity is good publicity I've been told. A nearly quadrupled readership, however they arrived, cannot be overlooked. Impressive.
Other shit: Ellora's Cave and Anny Cook are hosting an author/reader chat tonight 8-10 Eastern time. Join in or lurk. Ask questions or hang out. There shall be excerpts, giveaways, and lots of dialogue. Some even in full sentences.
Note to self: "Mia, remember you can always kill them off in a book, but they'd have to get under your skin first."
Props to the readers, fans, fellow writers who offered support off comment. Also to the heartfelt individual, petite and silver of coloring, who took to blog war on my behalf. Promise, love, to let me take all the hits next time? I don't mind. It's dedication from those like you who encourage me and I appreciate you.
546.
What's that you ask? The number of hits to this blog generated by the blog war. All publicity is good publicity I've been told. A nearly quadrupled readership, however they arrived, cannot be overlooked. Impressive.
Other shit: Ellora's Cave and Anny Cook are hosting an author/reader chat tonight 8-10 Eastern time. Join in or lurk. Ask questions or hang out. There shall be excerpts, giveaways, and lots of dialogue. Some even in full sentences.
Note to self: "Mia, remember you can always kill them off in a book, but they'd have to get under your skin first."
Monday, May 4, 2009
Do you like to watch?
Was asked recently about daily routine. Assume specifically about writing, therefore will address. After work, home to the apartment where Oscar, my laptop, awaits. Oscar is red and obedient. I push his buttons and he leaps to obey. Normally I set up on the kitchen bar where walking around is easy and can type while standing. Handy when catching up on run to laundry or cooking dinner. Also for fast spying trips to peep hole or balcony windows.
I complain about Johnson, but he really is quite spectacular in standard vacuuming garb of "naked". Have yet to see such an appendage that compares. Could swear he has vacuumed without hands, on occasion.
On docket now is Mind F*cked. Have completed Open Sesame for anthology and contract has been recommended. Mind F*cked will be first of five through Resplendence. Now then. Should you wonder the particulars of my writing environment, you have it.
Other shit: Along with 29 others, I have been traded. Yes, very sporty of me. 30 writers were disbursed to other editors and am now under the direct revision of Meghan Conrad at Ellora's Cave. Dear Helen, I shall miss you.
Other-er shit: Ellora's Cave chat tomorrow night 8-10 Eastern time at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ellorascavechat/ Several authors, many give aways, excerpts of current and upcoming EC books. Join and lurk if you wish or participate. A virtual room filled with erotic romance writers and mainstream romance writers. Pick brains or ask questions. I fully plan to pop in from time to time.
Note to self: "Mia, station laptop in front of balcony and dim lights during chat. Lurkers may want a play by play."
I complain about Johnson, but he really is quite spectacular in standard vacuuming garb of "naked". Have yet to see such an appendage that compares. Could swear he has vacuumed without hands, on occasion.
On docket now is Mind F*cked. Have completed Open Sesame for anthology and contract has been recommended. Mind F*cked will be first of five through Resplendence. Now then. Should you wonder the particulars of my writing environment, you have it.
Other shit: Along with 29 others, I have been traded. Yes, very sporty of me. 30 writers were disbursed to other editors and am now under the direct revision of Meghan Conrad at Ellora's Cave. Dear Helen, I shall miss you.
Other-er shit: Ellora's Cave chat tomorrow night 8-10 Eastern time at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ellorascavechat/ Several authors, many give aways, excerpts of current and upcoming EC books. Join and lurk if you wish or participate. A virtual room filled with erotic romance writers and mainstream romance writers. Pick brains or ask questions. I fully plan to pop in from time to time.
Note to self: "Mia, station laptop in front of balcony and dim lights during chat. Lurkers may want a play by play."
Friday, May 1, 2009
Knickers Untwisted
Ever have a moment you'd rather forget? One etched in your mind as a horror among horrors?
Had one at staff meeting post-lunch. My division reporting with yours truly providing statistics for lazy lecherous supervisor. Standard set-up. Typical protocol.
Background info. Have not done laundry in some days and am down to my last knickers. Not so aesthetic bra. Not so elastic bikinis. Fortunately, not ugly either. I do not invest in ugly but have digressed. As expected am also, therefore, down to least favorite garments and no hosiery despite cool temps and short black skirt falling loosely to top of knees. Did possess suitable matching sweater of the button down variety. Over all, the mirror showed what appeared as over-grown school girl in black heals.
Since did not wish to portray the image, opted for up do and delicate strand of fresh water pearls. Less school girl, more librarian. Have the image? Excellent. Because throughout day, I realized my knickers were loose about my hips and the longer the day grew, the more relaxed the lace became. By lunch I debated removal all together, but a meeting would follow in the next hour and did not wish sudden heater draft to pick up skirt in poor imitation of Marilyn thus exposing Mia secrets.
Had risen to give report with overhead projector (yes, very high tech, we) and was twisting to point to graphs when down slide my knickers. To the floor in full, black-lace bikini glory.
Snuffles. Coughs. Squirming co-workers and a sharply barked laugh followed.
Could. Have. Died.
Took a second to collect thoughts, then stepped from them without addressing the obvious sudden loss of undergarments. Continued report as I scooped them up and tossed in garbage. Proud to say, I didn't miss a beat after initial drop. Report went through without further disruption. In actuality, had more intent listeners than usual and more drop by visitors at my desk for remainder of day.
Apparently going spontaneously commando in the presence of co-workers creates quite a stir.
Interesting to reveal that when coming back to conference room afterward for purpose of either collecting or covering knickers with discard papers, they were missing.
Note to self: "Mia, buy new undies or do laundry. Lesson learned that when in need of your co-workers' full attention, try removing knickers for best results."
Had one at staff meeting post-lunch. My division reporting with yours truly providing statistics for lazy lecherous supervisor. Standard set-up. Typical protocol.
Background info. Have not done laundry in some days and am down to my last knickers. Not so aesthetic bra. Not so elastic bikinis. Fortunately, not ugly either. I do not invest in ugly but have digressed. As expected am also, therefore, down to least favorite garments and no hosiery despite cool temps and short black skirt falling loosely to top of knees. Did possess suitable matching sweater of the button down variety. Over all, the mirror showed what appeared as over-grown school girl in black heals.
Since did not wish to portray the image, opted for up do and delicate strand of fresh water pearls. Less school girl, more librarian. Have the image? Excellent. Because throughout day, I realized my knickers were loose about my hips and the longer the day grew, the more relaxed the lace became. By lunch I debated removal all together, but a meeting would follow in the next hour and did not wish sudden heater draft to pick up skirt in poor imitation of Marilyn thus exposing Mia secrets.
Had risen to give report with overhead projector (yes, very high tech, we) and was twisting to point to graphs when down slide my knickers. To the floor in full, black-lace bikini glory.
Snuffles. Coughs. Squirming co-workers and a sharply barked laugh followed.
Could. Have. Died.
Took a second to collect thoughts, then stepped from them without addressing the obvious sudden loss of undergarments. Continued report as I scooped them up and tossed in garbage. Proud to say, I didn't miss a beat after initial drop. Report went through without further disruption. In actuality, had more intent listeners than usual and more drop by visitors at my desk for remainder of day.
Apparently going spontaneously commando in the presence of co-workers creates quite a stir.
Interesting to reveal that when coming back to conference room afterward for purpose of either collecting or covering knickers with discard papers, they were missing.
Note to self: "Mia, buy new undies or do laundry. Lesson learned that when in need of your co-workers' full attention, try removing knickers for best results."
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Fairy tales
Joined Facebook. Am such a soldier of conformity. Discovered one individual with extensive Hollywood connections. Was tempted to friend. Decided against. Did not want to be complete drone.
Have been looking for blogger backgrounds in red and black. Other than completely slutty, this is best could find without being "cute". Loathe "cute". If you've suggestions, please provide. Google searches come up with "cute". Like Pyzam well enough, but again--slut factor. While something to be said for sexual revolution before my birth and sexual freedom now, would rather employ my assets when necessary and not for constant visual stimulation of others. Really, girls, control your source of power and dole out in small bits.
Am nearly finished with current manuscript. Characters have taken over and extended the ending. Hopefully, will complete today and tidy up prior to submissions as it has already been requested as part of new anthology featuring retold fairy tales. Mine. Ali Baba. Cast of characters alone could have made it an epic. Fortunately, they were all laid off and had only to deal with a few.
Note to self: "Mia, remember to schedule another Pub night. Invite K to see if magical perfume does indeed work outside office or if supervisor is the only fly caught."
Have been looking for blogger backgrounds in red and black. Other than completely slutty, this is best could find without being "cute". Loathe "cute". If you've suggestions, please provide. Google searches come up with "cute". Like Pyzam well enough, but again--slut factor. While something to be said for sexual revolution before my birth and sexual freedom now, would rather employ my assets when necessary and not for constant visual stimulation of others. Really, girls, control your source of power and dole out in small bits.
Am nearly finished with current manuscript. Characters have taken over and extended the ending. Hopefully, will complete today and tidy up prior to submissions as it has already been requested as part of new anthology featuring retold fairy tales. Mine. Ali Baba. Cast of characters alone could have made it an epic. Fortunately, they were all laid off and had only to deal with a few.
Note to self: "Mia, remember to schedule another Pub night. Invite K to see if magical perfume does indeed work outside office or if supervisor is the only fly caught."
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Anal Ease. See Saundra's Link
Have this to share. Saundra gave Claimed by Darkness a 5/5 review, stating: "Like I said, this book really hit a spot I hadn't known I was looking for. 43 books later and this one is the only one in my current e-book library I think is just stellar from start to finish." Curious? You can find the book here.
Jasmine-Jade offers free downloads every Monday. Resplendence, every Friday.
Am debating whether or not to join Facebook. Currently only use Blogger and feel MySpace has had its season. Not interested in Twitter. Not possibly enough to interest followers, around the water cooler. Except perhaps finding D, stripping off shirt after intense workout in office fitness room. Indeed worth exploring further.
Other shit: Aunt sent kitchen towel in mail. No note. Only return address to designate sender. An odd woman but have come to expect such things. Wonder if there is hidden message in cross-stitched bread loaf pattern. Beneath, message reads: Winds Day. Am thinking Aunt had it in head to stitch Wednesday. As she herself is half a loaf short, can only presume she did not realize her goal and re-interpreted message in phonetic miscarriage.
Or Aunt is flatulent.
Note to self: "Mia, call Aunt. Insert the word hemorrhoid into conversation after each sentence. Deny if questioned."
Jasmine-Jade offers free downloads every Monday. Resplendence, every Friday.
Am debating whether or not to join Facebook. Currently only use Blogger and feel MySpace has had its season. Not interested in Twitter. Not possibly enough to interest followers, around the water cooler. Except perhaps finding D, stripping off shirt after intense workout in office fitness room. Indeed worth exploring further.
Other shit: Aunt sent kitchen towel in mail. No note. Only return address to designate sender. An odd woman but have come to expect such things. Wonder if there is hidden message in cross-stitched bread loaf pattern. Beneath, message reads: Winds Day. Am thinking Aunt had it in head to stitch Wednesday. As she herself is half a loaf short, can only presume she did not realize her goal and re-interpreted message in phonetic miscarriage.
Or Aunt is flatulent.
Note to self: "Mia, call Aunt. Insert the word hemorrhoid into conversation after each sentence. Deny if questioned."
Monday, April 27, 2009
Flaming
Friend L had annual pre-marriage party. Don't get excited. L has no intention of marrying as is not legal to wed her chosen partner. L did recently break-up with girlfriend and is now looking for new. Fortunately, had many drunken takers after gathering. Fully expect next year's pre-marriage party to be ever more grand.
Had horrifically humorous afternoon viewing pleasure. Young couple at gas station began arguing. Initial outburst: "I'm going to spill! I'm going to spill!" Took several seconds to determine girl was not over sized glass of orange juice but threatening boyfriend with private information. The two carried discussion outdoors whereupon boyfriend, holding gas nozzle at this point, splashed water bottle on girlfriend's turned back. Boyfriend calmly stated, "Shut up, bitch. I just doused you with gas. You ain't talking to no one." --Mind, may have dialect off.
Girl screeched and carried on. Took attendant to coax her into restroom for clean up and stern lecture from manager to him. Amusing, horrifying, and thoroughly diverting. Lovely day.
Other shit: New book Sex Ed releases from Resplendence Publishing on May 19th.
Note to self: "Mia, water bottle trick not likely to work in office space. Perhaps try on smoking R at next dumpster visit. Calculate how fast he extinguishes cigarette."
Had horrifically humorous afternoon viewing pleasure. Young couple at gas station began arguing. Initial outburst: "I'm going to spill! I'm going to spill!" Took several seconds to determine girl was not over sized glass of orange juice but threatening boyfriend with private information. The two carried discussion outdoors whereupon boyfriend, holding gas nozzle at this point, splashed water bottle on girlfriend's turned back. Boyfriend calmly stated, "Shut up, bitch. I just doused you with gas. You ain't talking to no one." --Mind, may have dialect off.
Girl screeched and carried on. Took attendant to coax her into restroom for clean up and stern lecture from manager to him. Amusing, horrifying, and thoroughly diverting. Lovely day.
Other shit: New book Sex Ed releases from Resplendence Publishing on May 19th.
Note to self: "Mia, water bottle trick not likely to work in office space. Perhaps try on smoking R at next dumpster visit. Calculate how fast he extinguishes cigarette."
Friday, April 24, 2009
Carnivorous Geese
Had nice-ish weather and went for a walk. Drove to Como Park. Speed-walkers are mercenary. Ever looked at speed-walkers? Unhappy lot they are. Dead eyes, pressed lips, rude. Most noticeable, always in a hurry. Stiff-legged stride reminiscent of one in need of restroom. Faster the arms swing, less likely to nod greeting. Must be deep in thought of quickest route to facilities.
Other shit: Interest in short story currently writing. Is one of four for anthology taking fairy tales and reworking. Mine, untitled yet, revisits Ali Baba. Am pleased the publisher is eager to sign.
Other-er shit: Got chased by geese. Damn Canadians.
Note to self: "Mia, bring mace to Como Park. Critical to ward off both mercenary striders and carnivorous geese."
Other shit: Interest in short story currently writing. Is one of four for anthology taking fairy tales and reworking. Mine, untitled yet, revisits Ali Baba. Am pleased the publisher is eager to sign.
Other-er shit: Got chased by geese. Damn Canadians.
Note to self: "Mia, bring mace to Como Park. Critical to ward off both mercenary striders and carnivorous geese."
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Questionable Intell
No lurking Patterson outside my door. Expose did not net camera information. Patterson laying low. Cannot ask him directly. May have to concoct heater issue to justify discussion. Perhaps faux security concern would serve purposes more fully.
Special project at work has copious amount of information. Local personnel payment firm documents provide not only salaries of employees but social security numbers. Would think the information should be concealed, yes? Fortunately, I'm honest. Have shredded fully. Tomorrow new project work.
Other shit: I'm in absolute adoration of The Bloggess.
Note to self: "Mia, locate shredded supervisor information. Tape together and send in sealed envelope to teach higher-ups valuable lesson in maintaining private information. On a brighter note, now have something of import to discuss with D."
Special project at work has copious amount of information. Local personnel payment firm documents provide not only salaries of employees but social security numbers. Would think the information should be concealed, yes? Fortunately, I'm honest. Have shredded fully. Tomorrow new project work.
Other shit: I'm in absolute adoration of The Bloggess.
Note to self: "Mia, locate shredded supervisor information. Tape together and send in sealed envelope to teach higher-ups valuable lesson in maintaining private information. On a brighter note, now have something of import to discuss with D."
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Crap shoot
Got picked for special project. Involves collating and data entry for undisclosed information. Will have to tell us sooner or later as both I and colleague have eyes and education to read paperwork. Good news: out of regular duties for remainder of week. Bad news: boring.
Other shit: Still believe there is hidden camera in apartment building. Did take time to search laundry without success, with the exception of M riding the machine and faux reading. In interest of discovery, flashed ceiling of elevator. Not obvious flashing as per Mardi Gras and beads. Wore loose, low cut sweater and plucked it away from chest wall several times as though overheated. Even if camera is in elevator, may not have been successful experiment. Will have to devise alternate test.
Other-er shit: To the one who understands... have tired of carrying around this fucking mason jar. Who gets it next?
Note to self: "Mia, per suggestion, purchase lilacs and put jar to use. Also, try asking Patterson whereabouts of mystery cam."
Other shit: Still believe there is hidden camera in apartment building. Did take time to search laundry without success, with the exception of M riding the machine and faux reading. In interest of discovery, flashed ceiling of elevator. Not obvious flashing as per Mardi Gras and beads. Wore loose, low cut sweater and plucked it away from chest wall several times as though overheated. Even if camera is in elevator, may not have been successful experiment. Will have to devise alternate test.
Other-er shit: To the one who understands... have tired of carrying around this fucking mason jar. Who gets it next?
Note to self: "Mia, per suggestion, purchase lilacs and put jar to use. Also, try asking Patterson whereabouts of mystery cam."
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