Thursday, December 30, 2010

End of 2010 Giveaway

Just because I haven't given away enough copies and I like giving things away...

Another digital copy of 666 Angel Lane to someone.

Leave a comment saying what your favorite read of 2010 was. Winner will be chosen New Years Eve.

Must be over 18. Bribes accepted.

Monday, December 27, 2010

Ah Love ...

I've fallen in love too, although not with an ereader. It's good to know this old fart still has a few hormones left percolating.

Who have I fallen in love with?

His name is Sebastian. He's a terrible rake, cold and heartless, why he even kidnapped an heiress. And he lives in the book The Devil in Winter, the third book of the Wallflower series by Lisa Kleypas.

I love this book. I'm rereading it tonight, even though I finished it only last week. I'm gonna get me a part time job so I can buy all Ms Kleypas's backlist, because I love the Wallflowers and I love the Hathaways and I'm eyeing the Bow Street trilogy.

I love Sebastian's bafflement as he falls in love with Evie. I love the way Evie gains strength and character and I love the way Sebastian would do anything for her and protect her with his life. Of course, all Ms. Kleypas' heros are protective like that, but there's just something about Sebastian. I wouldn't want him anywhere near me in real life, but as a fantasy he's just so yummy. And sexy. A fallen angel, probably first cousin to Lucifer, lol.

Okay, back to my book. Just had to share. Don't have any pictures ... except ...


That might could be Sebastian ... or maybe this one:


I sort of like this one too ...



What's the saying - blondes are more fun? ;-)

Sunday, December 26, 2010

E-Reader Love Gone Too Far

Someone at one of the blogs I frequent posted her excitement over getting a Kindle for Christmas. Her words being, "I can't wait to have sex with it."



For Christmas I got a Kindle also. (I'm not allowed to mention that it came from Carolyn because she's afraid of looking as amazingly generous as she is and she wants people to think she's scary and mean instead of absolutely lovely...) I love my Kindle. LOVE IT!!!



I've been getting a bad time for it at work. There's the "I love to hold/smell/taste a real book" crowd that makes me a little gaggy. I always thought a book was in the story and writing, not in a strawberry scented cover (ALERT: Marketing Idea!! Grab it smart person!!)

(On a tangent: would romance novels then smell like Fabio's armpits?)


Moving on. I love love love my Kindle. I've read more book since I've owned it than I've read in the previous months of 2010. I named it. I coo at it. I'd rather take it to bed than Fabio.



(Not the fella above. He's gorgeous. Screw the Kindle if he shows up.)

What's the point of all this? None really. The woman that posted obviously should have edited herself and I like to post silly pictures for no reason.

The end.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Merry Christmas Y'all

As our gift to you, we offer a free Holiday story from our chequered past.

Angels and Divos was written several years ago. It is most definitely a fan fic, but we like to think it's perhaps a little bit more too. And we promise our writing has improved over the years. :-)

You'll find the link under the Angel Lane link above (yea Lori!!!). We hope you enjoy our little bit of Christmas fun. I tried to get Lori to post her 12 Days of Christmas, but she thought she might get sued.

Happy Holidays from your very own Two Old Farts.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Need A Rec

My dear friend Clark wants to send his mother a book. She has requested Victrian romance with little/limited sex.

Clark knows al about the fantasy genre but nothing of romance and I know nothing of Victorian romances that are free of B/d, menage or anal play with serving wenches.

Any ideas?

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Why I Bother

There's no way to express this completely and anyone who loves the printed word, who has read a passage from a book or a poem and then had to read it to someone so they could hear it as you did ...

Last night I started reading Getting Rid of Bradley. It's an old Jennifer Cruisie that I read years ago and didn't connect with. Yesterday I connected. My nine year old daughter was the recipient of a lot of "Listen to this..." and "omg, she didn't..."

Jennifer Cruisie is the reason I write. Getting Rid of Bradley is the reason I write. That might be a little untrue since I started writing many years ago for different reasons (think teenage angst and you'd have it in one) but the reason I keep trying to get it right is because of Jennifer Cruisie and Sarah Addison Allen and Loretta Chase and all the women who understand humor and heat and pacing and fun.

Sometimes I love a good angst fest. But usually when I read I'm most satisfied by those moments that tickle my funny bone while delighting my love of words. I couldn't give a crap if the plot has holes large enough to drive a Hummer through as long as I laugh out loud.

I write because words delight me. And words put together that cause laughter force me to want to write better. So I keep working on it because one day I want to write just like Jennifer Cruisie. And if I keep working on it, maybe one day I will.

Friday, December 10, 2010

The Cat's Away: A Book Give-Away!!

Sssh! Lori's internet connection is gone, gone, gone and for the first time in longer than I can remember (which isn't that long since my memory went shortly after my boobs hit my waistline)I get to start some trouble and she can't do anything about it.

So I'm giving away one of her digital copies of 666 Angel Lane. Hell, I might even give away two.

Just leave a comment with an email address to send your prize to (if you're our lucky winner). Contest closes Sunday night as long as we get entries. If no-one enters then I wipe out this post before Lori sees it and gets all depressed that nobody wants her book.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Release Day

Well we'd like to pretend that we invited you all here to share a joke, rhapsodize over chocolate and share a small sigh over the nekkid buttocks of hot men. And we did. Really we did.

We also want to cough discreetly into our fist and remind you that that one of our farts has a book released today called 666 Angel Lane and it can be bought at http://www.lyricalpress.com and at http://www.amazon.com and all your favorite book retailers.

We'd love for you to check it out. It has imp tossing, a little sex, some heavenly beings and some heavenly bodies from Hell. It's about what you'd expect from an old fart. The younger one that is ;-)

We'll be giving away a copy probably tomorrow. Check this space.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

666 Angel Lane Excerpt

The radio was playing Christmas music during one of the worst heat waves in fifteen years. My pale legs were sticking to the vinyl couch I was squeezed onto next to my best friend Pam, her slimmer and darker body looking unaffected by the heat.

The Three Tenors were singing Ave Maria and Pam was snuffling. I thought about putting an arm around her, but that would mean moving my body, which was sure to be a mistake. I dreaded the moment I’d have to peel myself off.

“Has someone recently told you to Go to Hell?” the radio suddenly blared in advertisement. “Lucifer wants you to Just Say No. The Fiery Pit is no place for Humans. Do a good deed and go to Heaven. Paid for by The Lord of Lies and the Stay Out of Damnation Committee.”

I rolled my eyes. The devil had certainly been turning up the metaphysical heat recently. I glanced at Pam; usually we’d have a little Go to Hell laugh and play variations of Your Favorite Deadly Sin game. Pam was still moping and wasn’t in the mood to argue gluttony over lust.

The trailer that housed Miss CeeCee Divine, palm reader and clairvoyant, was starting to feel like an Easy Bake Oven. I was about to suggest we wait outside, just to get the agony of the vinyl death trap over, when Miss CeeCee herself finally appeared.

* * * *

“Contacting spirits is iffy,” Miss CeeCee explained. “Sometimes they’ve left the worldly domain behind and they refuse to answer. Sometimes they’re angry to be interrupted from their heavenly pursuits.”

“Nana will be glad to talk to me,” Pam said, but I heard the uncertainty in her voice.

“You have the picture?” Miss CeeCee asked. Pam nodded and pulled from her pocket a worn photograph that was taken back when Pam was the sweetest little specimen of gawky girl.

Of all the things I expected, Miss CeeCee closing her eyes and taking a nap was not on the list.

“She must be tired,” I whispered to Pam.

“Stop it.” Pam frowned at me but I was willing to bet she had the same thoughts. Miss CeeCee ignored us. I wished I could join her in the Land of Nod, the heat was edging along the senses and a small escape would be lovely.

“Josephine’s here.” Miss CeeCee’s voice rasped and her eyes were open and staring at us. Pam gasped, as did I. Her eyes were a bright, Hollywood blue, not the same color they had been. She blinked in confusion, looking at us. We blinked in confusion back at her.

“Che? Eccomi Signore. Perche?”

“Nana doesn’t speak foreign,” Pam said in a harsh whisper.

“I think that’s Italian,” I murmured. “Are you Josephine?”

“Josefina, si.” The blue eyes fixed on me. “Chi cosa vuoi parlar con?”

I shrugged. “I don’t speak Italian, ma’am. Do you speak English?”

“Ecco. Awicinarsi.” She leaned forward, her hand reaching out and I moved closer. I had no idea what she was saying but if body language had anything to do with it, apparently Miss CeeCee was about to whisper in my ear: “Gotcha!”

Her hand came to rest on my forearm. Our heads came near each other, and just as she opened her mouth to speak a sound like rushing wind came from her mouth. A lurch in the bottom of my stomach and someone was screaming as the sudden cyclone seemed to hit. Damn it, the someone was me and then I wasn’t there anymore.

Releases tomorrow.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Candlelight - The Maccabeats

We'z Writing Fools!

Oh we iz writing. We iz writing our little hearts out.

We've discovered that when we need to make the world a happier place for ourselves the best thing we can do is let go of all of our seriousness and mock ourselves. We did it in Bodice and we're doing it again.

It's hard to identify ourselves as serious writers and one of the things we have to accept is that we're not that serious. We need to play. We need to laugh. We need to have with it.

If you haven't experienced our crazier side, heck out The Bodice Rippers. http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/21566
It's a free download and it's bound to make you laugh.