Friday, June 28, 2013

Life Inspires

So I’m in Target a few months ago, standing in an isle looking for a conditioner for my daughter.    It’s pretty late and the store is about to close and I notice two dudes checking me out at the end of the isle.  Not only are they looking at me, they are whispering and pointing AND looking at me.  I’m thinking, “Holy shitake, I’m about to be Taken!” and I do not have the ex-military, Liam Neeson-type dad on the phone to describe my would-be attackers to.  I should do what any woman who has a muse sitting on her shoulder would do.  I digress.  You do know my muse is a violent biznatch who threatens me, right? 
Anyway, two scenarios pop into my head:
1. Find the nearest security guard and start telling on my two potential assailants.
 2.  Follow my muse, Cheyenne’s advice.  She tells me to mace them both in the mouth, watch out for the mace-mist that is most likely going to come back to haunt me and then kick their asses until they beg me to stop. 
 
I hear the first guy say, and I’m paraphrasing here, “She looks pretty and clean.”  Ummm… WTF!  No one would take me in a brightly lit store, would they?  I know I’m in Target, but crazy people do the darndest things.  They both start to walk toward me, so option two looks like the only way to go.  I slide my finger in the Mace-O-Matic trigger and get ready.  Guy number one doesn’t notice but guy number two has already slowed down. 
Am I a bad-ass or what!
A huge smile breaks across the first guys face and he asks, “Miss, are you married?” 
I turn to face him, finger still on the trigger, and tell him that yes, I am very married. 
Fist guy: “I knew it!  The clean pretty ones always are.”
Second guy:  “She also has mace in her hand.”
First guy’s voice now goes up a few octaves:  “Are you going to mace me?”
Me:  “I don’t know yet.”
Second guy:  “He’s trying to find me a wife.”
Me:  “Umm, leering and whispering about a ‘clean and pretty’ woman is not the way to do it.”
First guy:  “I didn’t mean to scare you.  You just look like a nice person and I’m trying to find my boy a date.” 
Me:  “You almost found you both in the Emergency Room, but thanks for the, err, compliment.”
First guy:  “Have a goodnight, Miss.  Your husband is a lucky man.”
Second guy, whispering to first guy:  “He should be a scared man, too.”
 
So, why did I share this extremely true story?  And seriously, it is true. Because ideas can come from anywhere.  I’ve been thinking about what happened that night and I finally came up with a short story.  Yes, it has a supernatural spin, but most of my stories do. 
Life is inspiring.  You just have to look at it and let your muse play with it.  If you ever experience the infamous ‘writers-block’, just start writing.  Write about what you did today.  What you would have done in the same situation if you were a fairy, or a Valkyrie, or a vampire!  Or just a regular human who lives life just the way you do.  
 But either way, I'm a badd-ass that was going to kick some ass!


weng weng



Sunday, June 23, 2013

I'm on a boat!

Well, actually I’m not on a boat.  I'm just sitting in Starbucks eating some great Sweet Bread, picturing Lonely Island featuring T-Pain's video I'm On A Boat.  It's hilarious.  But that is so not the point.  Focus people. 

Back to the point at hand:  I’m on a boat!  At least it feels like I’m on a boat when I’m driving my new car.  I just bought a Dodge Caliber and it’s a stick shift.  I’ve never had a manual vehicle but it’s a great car and the price was great.  While checking out dealership inventory online, I ran across this car.  I thought it was an automatic, called and said, “Hey!  I’m coming in right now to see this car.  Can I? Can I? Can I?”  My husband walked up and asked me when did I learn to drive a stick shift.  He tried to teach me a few years ago and I sucked at it.  I got the gist of it but I was no expert.  But his vehicle was a pick-up truck and as I’ve discovered over the past few days, was much harder to drive than my non pick-up Caliber.  Needless to say, I got the extended warranty just in case I burned the clutch or any other thing I could possible do to the car.  My husband convinced me it was a great car and that I would use less gas and blah, blah, blah.  My husband had me sold on it.

I wanted something with more room for our growing family and this was it.  When I’m driving, and especially when I’m parking, I feel like I am actually driving a boat.  Have I ever driven a boat before?  No.  Do they call it driving a boat or do you maneuver it?  Who knows?  Do sailors know?  Why am I talking in questions? 

This kind of falls in line with my writing shtick this week.   I wasn’t looking for a manual vehicle.  I just wanted a spacious car that I could drive for the next few years.  Four years to be exact.  Well, maybe six years.  I’ll be paying for it for the next four years so I’d like to drive it payment free for at least two years.  Anyway, I didn’t get the car that I thought I was going to get.  And sometimes when you write, you have to learn to roll with the punches.  My critique group members suggested that I added something to my novel, Bound.  They all agreed that someone should pretty much die.  It breaks my heart but these people are readers and us writers should listen to our readers.  Part of me wants to add a character just so they can die.  I love the people in my novel and would hate to part with any of them.  But the vote is in and someone is getting kicked off the island. 

 
Maybe The Lonely Island and T-Pain will be there with an actual boat to save them...

 


Monday, June 17, 2013

Perfection


There are very few things in this world that are perfect.  But many people strive for perfection.  I don’t .  Nobody is perfect and anyone who tells you they are is lying to themselves and trying to make you believe the lie.  

Many of you may not agree with me on this, but God is perfect.  He is perfection.  Sorry to say my friends, but you are not perfect and nothing we ever do will be perfect.  Let me tell you a story:

My husband and I have known each other for seventeen years. He is my buddy.  When we began to plan our wedding, I just knew I wanted to do as little as possible.  An away wedding was my answer and it was perfect.  But alas, his grandparents couldn’t travel so we decided to get married here in his family church. 

Cut to wedding day:  I was the first person to have my make-up done by the make-up artist.  She said it was unusual that the bride was first.  My response, “Those chicks are running around like their heads are cut off and I’m just chilling, waiting for the day to be over so I can take a nice, long nap.  Not too much make-up.”  Things are perfect.

Cut to the church:  My bridesmaids have gone in to the church before me as the singer sings India Ari’s ‘I am Ready for Love.’  I’m in the huge SUV we rented, waiting for the wedding planner (my husband’s aunt) to give me the cue to get out of said vehicle.  “Umm, mom, my foot is caught on this puffy dress.”  My mother grabs part of the huge dress and auntie tells her she’s got it. 
“Umm, auntie, my foot is still caught.”  It’s okay, she says. You’re just nervous, she tells me.  “Umm, nope, not nervous.  Just caught.”
“Just step down!” 
So, I step down.  And then I begin to fall.  Into the gutter.  In my puffy, white, beautiful wedding dress.  On my hands and knees.  In the gutter.
“Jesus Christ,” I yell, “I said I was caught!”
I can hear people all around gasp, “The bride has fallen!  The bride has fallen!”
I jump up quickly like I just did a freakin’ magic trick and by the grace of God, there is not one stain on me.  Remember, I fell into the gutter in downtown Baltimore. 
Grace of God here people.

But cool.  I get up, get poofed out again and take my mother’s hand.  She’s the one who walked me down the isle.  As soon as we step foot into the church, the singer sings the last note and we walk down the church isle in complete silence. 

I’m cool with this.  I just fell in my WEDDING DRESS!  Nothing can be worse than that!

Cut to alter:  the unity candles won’t stand up and my niece almost passes out.

Cut to the walk from the church:  my niece threatens to spit on my dress because it’s a Greek tradition.  I threaten to punch in the face as hard as I possibly could.  She argues she wants us to have a long, happy marriage and that she needs to spit on my dress.  I tell her she’s cruising for a bruising. 

Cut to the reception:  the DJ manages to mispronounce our names.  My name is Roslyn.  My husband’s name is Albert.  Seriously?
Cut to sometime during the reception:  my three month old god-daughter throws up my dress.  MY WEDDING DRESS. 

Cut to the end of the wedding:  my husband and I go home and sleep like we’ve been drugged. 
True story.

Why did I tell you this?  I don’t know.  Thought you should know. 





Friday, June 14, 2013

Jenn Roseton and the Hot and Sexy Series!!

Hello All!!

Today, during the first annual All Author's Blog Blitz, I have the Jenn Roseton as a guest blogger and her Hot and Sexy Series!

The Hot and Sexy series is a two-part erotic romance series featuring Jared and Christy.



In Hot and Sexy 1: Seductive Persuasion, Christy has gone to an isolated cabin in the woods for a few days.  Jared has proposed that she move in with him, but since she's only been dating him for a few months, she's not sure if she's ready for such a large commitment.  Can Jared persuade her (make that seduce her!) that moving in with him is the right thing for both of them?




Here's an excerpt:

“She tried to pull away from him, but his arm tightened around her. “Where do you think you’re going?” he whispered huskily. “I haven’t finished persuading you yet.”

“Jared--”

He kissed her hungrily. “Don’t talk. And don’t think. Just feel.”

“But I need--”

“I know what you need.” He pinned her underneath him, holding her in place with his lower body as he ripped open the buttons of his shirt and yanked it off.

Christy found herself admiring his hard, muscular chest while wondering whether she should try to stop him. “Jared...” She reached out.

He caught her hand in his and kissed her palm. “Let me make love to you, Christy.” ”

Hot and Sexy 1: Seductive Persuasion is available from:

Amazon - Hot and Sexy 1: Seductive Persuasion
if it's not free on Amazon, then please download it for free from:


Smashwords -Hot and Sexy 1: Seductive Persuasion
Kobo -Hot and Sexy 1: Seductive Persuasion
Barnes and Noble - Hot and Sexy 1: Seductive Persuasion

In the sequel, Hot and Sexy 2: Bridal Jitters, Jared and Christy are now engaged.  However, Christy is stressed out from wedding planning and plans to go back to the cabin to spend a couple of days alone so she can clear her head.  When Jared finds her packing her bag, Jared finds he needs to use his own special brand of seductive persuasion once more to calm Christy’s wedding jitters before the big day. But will a ghost from Jared’s past come back to haunt him before he can claim Christy as his bride?


At the moment, Hot and Sexy 2: Bridal Jitters is only available through Amazon for 99c:

Hot and Sexy 2: Bridal Jitters






Jenn Roseton loves writing erotic romance and eating gourmet chocolate. You can connect with her at www.JennRoseton.com



Monday, June 10, 2013

Fight for your Write!


Authors, English majors and Word Police, I am aware I wrote ‘Write’ instead of ‘Right’ in the title of this post.  Just go with me here.  It’ll make sense in a minute or two unless you are a complete genius and already know what I’m going to say.  

So many of us complain that we don’t have enough time to do the things we like to do.  At the same time we sit and mindlessly watch television for three hours or take naps when we know we’re not tired.  We’re just bored and sleep sounds awesome.  And then we nag and complain because we never do the things we want to do.  Recently, I paid someone to torture me for ten minutes.  Or you could say I got my eyebrows threaded.  Seriously, it hurts.  And I can compare it to real pain.  I was in labor for three days and for twenty-one hours of those three days I labored naturally.  In theory, I could have kept laboring naturally but that biznatch, I mean my lovely midwife, came into my room every few hours and inserted what felt like her arm into my lady-parts to see how dilated I was.  But I’m getting away from my point here.

Anyway, I made time to let the sadistic woman make my eyebrows look pretty and neat.  I made time to sit on my butt and watch television while my daughter took a nap yesterday.  But I haven’t written or edited in almost two weeks.  Doesn’t that suck?  How can I say, “I don’t have time to write?”  I make time for lots of silly things.  Ask the lady with the thread in her mouth or my couch.

But you do the same thing, don’t you?  We all do.  We can’t help it!  Whether you’re a writer or a mathematician or a chef or whatever it is you do, we all nosh and then blame it on time.  I just played on Facebook for 45 minutes before I wrote this post.  And did I really get anything done?  No! (Well, I did get a kickass score on Bejeweled!)  

So, what am I going to do?  What are you going to do?  We’re going to write!  We’re going to do math!  We’re going to cook!  We’re going to get it done because no one ever got ahead by sitting on their behind.  Famous words from the blonde chick in that cheerleader/bank robber movie.  I love that movie.  Those cheerleaders didn’t sit on their butts when their pregnant friend was broke and needed money.  No!  They did something about it.  They were on the A-squad and managed to rob a bank and still be best friends and not get caught by the fuzz.  

I’m rambling, but you get what I’m saying.  Fight for your write.  Fight for your brioche.  Fight for whatever it is mathematicians fight about.  Time moves so quickly.  

I’m going to go write right now.  And think about that cheerleader movie.  Dang-it, what was the name of that movie!