R.I.P. Darling Davy

Oh God, I loved him.

The Monkees were a created group, created to piggy-back on the popularity of the Beatles. Davy was the cute one (like Paul) and the only Brit.

I loved all the Monkees but Davy was created to win the young girl's hearts. So beautiful, sweet voice and possibly the first love of more American women than anyone.

Davy died today from a heart attack and I feel bereft. He was supposed to be forever.

He will be in my heart.

Open Letter to the A-Holes, Young and Not So Young

Dear creatures with dangly bits,

those of you who were at the Key Arena last night... and even those who weren't but whose behavior I might be commenting on,

I have a few things to say to you.

My daughter and I were anticipating the wrestling show for months. This was Mollie's gift from Santa and her chance to see one of her heroes live. Our seats were spectacular and we were buzzing with excitement. So were you, we could tell.

However, there were a few issues for us last night. Such as, that child. You know, the boy who might have been 8 or 9 years old who screeched with the power of a thousand jackals and usually right in my ear. The one that I asked to not screech into my ear. Yeah, the woman sitting next to my daughter asked also. She and her husband left early because of him, did you notice that?

I know you didn't care. You stated as much to me and to the other woman and her husband. You paid your money for seats and you had every right to act however you wanted. You might have been right because you continued to let the boy screech his inanities and you continued to bellow yours.

The only thing is that I paid my money too and I deserved a little respect or human decency. I didn't ask the child not to yell, just to sit back and do it from his seat instead of on his feet and in my ear. Of course had he done it the way I asked then he would have been annoying you. Better to have him annoying strangers.

I don't know how old the group of you were, I'm betting around 18 or thereabouts. You were jerks. Just want you to know.

And to the nice man sitting next to us: you were nice. What wasn't so nice was the amount of beer you drank and ultimately spilled. We had placed some things on the floor and well, they got ruined by beer. My daughter was a little upset.

Just because they sell beer, doesn't mean you have to drink so much of it. And if you must, perhaps let your wife hold it. She seemed nice and I doubt she would have ruined my daughter's signs.

And to the guy in our row who got upset about the man who had his son on his shoulders. Dude, really? Yes, they blocked your view but it was only for a few minutes. His little boy was probably only 5 years old. He couldn't see anything and his dad was giving hm a chance to see someone he probably loved.

You know, flying over the barrier and attacking the guy wasn't okay at all. His kid and wife was there. Hell, a lot of people were there. You manged to knock over a row of chairs, scare a lot of people, attack a man and his family and get kicked out (as well as get that other family kicked out too).

And your trying to hit the man's wife was one of the worst things I'd seen.

Which brings me to my last comment. We were at a televised wrestling event. A lot of testosterone in the air. Testosterone does not have to equal misogyny. Screaming at the women to shut up and let the men do their work. Congradulating your screechy little friend for his nasty gender screeches. Suggesting that any of the hot women wrestlers would ever give you a tumble (even I wouldn't and I'm a million hotness times removed from those women).

I know not all men are jerks or act like it at such events. But for you who did and especially those in the row behind us, I just wanted to say...

SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS AND LET THE WOMEN ENJOY THE WRESTLING YOU DWEEBS!!

What's the Difference?

This might sound truly bizarre to anyone else and I might be totally embarrassed....

So I've been working on a book for awhile and it's one of those that means something to me but I put it aside and come back to it and do that ad nauseum... so right now I've been working on it and I'm not that far into it and realized that I have a lot of situations but no plot.

There's conflict galore. There's misunderstandings. There's growth. Do all those things equal plot? I don't feel like it does and now I'm trying to figure out what exactly plot means to me.

I know there might be some people having quite a giggle over my idiocy. "Look Marge, she writes books and doesn't know what a plot is. No wonder she writes romance." (Okay, that last dig was for fun.)

But the thing is that conflict doesn't always mean plot. To me, plot is an arc that begins as the book begins and ends when the book ends. The plot is the crux of the story.

Boy meets girl = construct.
Boy loses girl = plot?
Boy gets girl back = resolution.

How about...

Boy meets girl = construct.
Boy has issues with his mother and despite falling in love, can't release his painful issues and therefore loses girl. He seeks closure with his mother and seeks therapy and cries at her graveside and goes to see his father who tells him to grow a goddamn pair = plot.
Boy gets girl back = HEA and resolution.

So what I have...

Girl wants changes in her life = construct.
Boy crashes through her bedroom wall and destroys her home. Boy's uncle offers to fix everything. Boy is in love with neighbor girl whose father hates the boy. Uncle falls for girl who wants change in her life. = it doesn't feel enough like a plot.
HEA for everyone = resolution.

Am I crazy? There's issues with family, with anger.... there's hints of magic and friendship and story-telling and I think I'm answering my own question. I have a plot. I'm just putting so many layers atop it that I don't remember what I've got.

Wow, thanks for talking this all out with me. I feel better. Really I do.

The Shame Game

Over at Dear Author there's a thread that just won't die... almost 400 posts at this point I believe and it's the best example of the good and bad of blog discussion. Thankfully none of the women have come out and cursed at each other but a fella named Tom tried the paternal 'shame game' that didn't work.

I love the shame game. It's this thing that men do when they aren't right but want to shut down conversation. It's "you should be ashamed of yourself young lady..." It's the scolding and the admonishment and in Tom's case, calling the women harpies and saying they're beneath him.

Because he can't make them agree with him.

I'm pathetic. A little part of me squee'd when he tried it. He didn't get as trashed as I thought he should have but I loved seeing it and loved the few responses he got. And none of those responses were the ones he wanted.

Heh.

Smashwords Has Disappointed Me

And now my books are no longer available there.

PayPal has decided to come down on online book retailers and stop the sale of certain "pornographic" materials. Well, what they really have done is enforced their TOS and now they're telling the retailers, take down the objectionable content or you can't use us anymore.

PayPal has every right to do so.

Smashwords has agreed to take down the content and I disagree with their decision. They're choosing censorship as their best option and I can't get my head around that at all. because once they start dictating what they deem 'pornography', who's to say that they won't decide anything outside of one man/one woman isn't? In fact, isn't that the backlash we're seeing now in American politics?

I might not like certain types of stories and I wouldn't buy them or read them but I'd defend any adult's right to read or buy it for themselves. Smashwords apparently would not.

I cannot in good conscience keep my books on Smashwords while they allow PayPal to dictate their policy.

Recs Please

I lovelovelove books with cooking in them. Books where food matters and is described in loving detail. Where cooking matters and is described in loving detail. Whether romance, women's lit, non-fiction... it's a deep in my heart reading need.

I need more books of this type. Anyone? Please?

Winter at My House

It's that time of year when everything seems dead, or at the very least, asleep.

This year winter at my house is a roller coaster ride of iced over car windows alternating with turning the car A/C on in the afternoons. It's not unusual to go from 20°F at night to almost 70 as a daytime high. It's overcast more often than it's sunny, and it's been raining so much I feel like Selma is challenging Seattle for the title of the rainiest city in America.

The winter darkness is brightened by the orange-red breasts of a flock of robins. A veritable herd of robins, come to winter in my neighbourhood. Everywhere I look, there are robins.

Back in Ontario, where I grew up, robins were solitary birds except for their mate. Together they raised two or three families and they never flocked together as starlings do.

Here in Alabama, robins flock. And they sing. Their song drifts through my open windows and lifts my heart out of the winter doldrums. They've created a game at the back of the house, where the wilderness borders the yard. They fly through the seemingly impenetrable bushes and branches, zipping through tunnels visible only to them, circling around to do it all again. Somehow they avoid collision, both with the woods and each other.

I wanted to share this with you because every year I'm fascinated all over again by these 'common' birds, who are really so very special. And when the full beauty of a southern spring is upon us, they will leave, off to northern climes to replenish the robin population.

I'm glad they spend their winters here. They are a small joy in the dark time of the year, when things can become overwhelming. God's choir, come to cheer us up. :-)

Song of Life

So this morning I was sitting on my bus and I opened my Kindle, ready to start a new book. I had a Molly Harper book that Carolyn had downloaded but then I saw Song of Life, Carolyn's newly released book.

I'd read the book back when Carolyn first wrote it (we always read each other's writing) but I hadn't sat down and read it fully after editing and everything it went through professionally.

Holy shit, Carolyn can write!

Seriously, it is that good. It's just so well written and so much better than the usual shit and I want people to read it. I really do.

So here's the thing. I'll give you a copy of the ebook if you'll leave a review on Amazon. You don't have to promise to do it in the next week or even month. You don't have to promise 5 stars.

This is just a book that deserves to be read and truly deserves an audience. So that's the deal. A free copy for a promise of an Amazon review. Let me know. I have a feeling you will be very grateful cause damn that Old Fart can write.

Make 'Em Laugh

I'm going through a funny paranormal glom right now. I've read 2 Linda Wisdom books and 2 Molly Harper books and I'm about to read another Molly Harper book... and I've discovered a few things about them.

Linda Wisdom is a better writer for a number of reasons. Molly Harper is a damn sight funnier but her books lack.

Linda Wisdom writes/wrote a number of books about a group of witches who have oodles of power, complicated love lives and stuff. The stuff is tightly plotted, involved and has funny stuff going on.

She is funny. Her witches are smart and smart asses, her romance is hot and her humor makes me smile.

Molly Harper, on the other hand, makes me laugh out loud. Now I do a lot of reading on the bus going to and from work and I unashamedly giggle, chortle and belly laugh while I read. Yet, her books feel emptier somehow.

I feel like Molly H. is missing something. In Nice Girls Don't Have Fangs, I thought she was missing a plot. (Seriously funny book with no real plot at all.) Naked Werewolf had plot but still felt lacking.

It's interesting to read and fun to compare how I feel about the authors after I'm done. I do know that I like both but Wisdom is becoming an auto-buy for me while Harper still isn't. Yet I do love the laughing out loud she offers.

It's Me Again ...

Do you see the look on my cartoon face up top? Would you call it surprised? Horrified? Stunned?

Do you see the look on the Lori character's face? Would you call it snarky? Shifty eyed? Or just plain evil? It's obvious she's had a nefarious idea and is figuring out how to get rid of me so she can carry it out.

Lori is always one step ahead of me and I know this is her usual look nwhen she's writing her outrageous tales of how we met and other derring do's.

Shifty little bugger, isn't she? But definitely a loveable one. ♥♥ :-D

Hi - It's Me!

It's me, Carolyn. Yes really. I finally found something to post about, but it still was Lori's idea, or at least she found it. But she didn't use it and so now she's lost it.

Got a link for y'all:

http://www.amazon.com/review/R3W48PEXCVO7RW/ref=cm_cr_pr_cmt?ie=UTF8&ASIN=143890259X&nodeID=&tag=&linkCode=#wasThisHelpful

(Hopefully that'll work.)

Yes, y'all, it's another case of an author behaving badly. What I found so interesting in this particular one, is that readers are threatening the author with Dear Author, lol. (She doesn't care.)

Not going to say her name, because, unlike Lori, I don't want weirdos to find us. ;-)

Also,when did it become the fashion to turn fan fics into published novels? I've never been able to do it. That's not to say it can't be done, I don't claim to be perfect and maybe it was because my fan fics had four men in them. O.o

Anyway, just seemed like there's been some noise lately about published fan fics, none of it good and it sort of makes me want to prove them wrong. But hell, my non-fan fiction isn't blowing folks away, so I probably won't. :-)

God, I love the romance community! Never a dull day. :-)

Search Phrases

I'm getting jealous. I keep seeing people posting on Facebook and Twitter that they can see what search words brought people to their blogs and they're always funny, slightly pornographic combos.

I want someone to find us the same way! said in a whiny, petulant voice...

So because I have the maturity level of a tadpole I'm going to put some searchwords here that I hope will attract some pervs.

sexual sludge dunking

goat wanking

little person private persuasions

george clooney is a male ho but we'd like to fuck him anyway

passive resistant water willies

pig orgasms

pierced polliwogs

having sex while blowing balloons and being cross-eyed

Okay pervs, come get us!!

Farting Around

We have a new banner with many grateful thanks to Lea. http://redwhiteblueallthewaythrough.blogspot.com/ <--- that's a link to Lea's blog, in case you're curious about the woman.

Lea isn't an old fart but only because she's still moderately young and her boobs haven't hit her knees. But she is an old friend of ours who we first met online during the infamous Sandwich Wars.

Although we were on opposite sides at that time, Lea a complete convert to the whole wheat and natural peanut butter thing and Carolyn and I thoroughly fighting for processed lunch meats, somehow we struck up a friendship that lasts to this day.

I'm not mentioning the fiasco of our attempted assassination of Sara Lee after getting a cheesecake with freezer burn. Who knew there were so many Sara Lee's in the US and none of them bakers.

Anyway, Lea is our doll and we love our new banner and one day her boobs will fall and she'll join us in old fartdom. Until then we just say thank you.

Random Shee-it

Almost Valentines Day and so my daughter asked for an extremely violent video game as a V-Day present. Why not, say I?

I hope someone brings me chocolate. Nothing expensive, just milk chocolate. Yums.

I got called today while at work that my daughter was sick and needed to be picked up from school. So I did and brought her back to work with me. She was okay (by the end of the day it was definately time for her to pack it in) and she worked her ass off.

My boss should pay her for all she did today. She was amazing.

I'm reading a bunch of humorous paranormal and plan to write an intelligent blog post about that someday. But first I have to watch The Bachelor and see if the model bitch gets kicked off.

Carolyn's new book, song of Life, got a fabu review. Major love falling on it. It's really worth reading if you're getting tired of 3somes, 4somes and people doing it in weird ways. Just a nice love story with some mighty angst.

I'm reading a book about how to promote yourself as an e-author. I think I'll just offer cookies to people if they buy my book.

Did I mention The Bachelor? It gets worse. Survivor starts this week and I'm a major Survivor-ho.

(Carolyn's rolling her eyes heavenward right now.)

An Old Farty History

I've been friends with Carolyn since we were in short pants and catching tadpoles with Henry Robinson down by the old creek. Carolyn was my BFF even back then and she never said a word when I stole anything resembling chocolate from her lunchbox.

When we got a little older and moved from tadpoles to actually trying to catch Henry Robinson himself, we remained BFFs. We used to experiment with make-up together and sneak out late at night, rolling our skirts at the waists to make them shorter and hanging down at the Tastee-Freez while hoping to catch the eye of an innappropriate Bad Boy.

When Henry Robinson left juvie for the second time and then deflowered Carolyn in the back seat of the family station wagon, I was the first person Carolyn told, and the fifth person that Henry told. It was unfortunate that Henry never learned the meaning of discretion and therefore caused Carolyn the shame of being known as "that loose Bama hussy."

But it didn't change our friendship, at all. I still stole all her chocolate and Carolyn still pretended to ignore it.

In college we drifted apart for awhile. I joined the local chapter of Students for Purity and Carolyn pledged Sigma Delta Slut. We shared the occasional English class and teacher's assistant but our heady days as BFFs seemed to be over.

It was in our junior year that things changed. I discovered that male students who studied poetry were better at cunnilingus than any of the Purity students and soon I became a Slut too.

After college we went to different places at different times but always found our way back together. All it's ever taken is Carolyn calling and saying "chocolate covered praline" and I'm right there.

We went through our divorces together, our illicit affairs and out of wedlock babies. I stood by Carolyn when she tried a sex change for shits and giggles and then when my attraction to her turned scary, when she changed back. We've stalked ex-boyfriends together, done mushrooms together and owned a pizzeria for awhile.

It's just who we are. And I still steal her chocolate.

Writing the Porn

I'm trying to write porn. Honest to Gawd, penis/vagina, wet and sloppy with every act described in loving detail porn.

I'd rather shoot myself in the face.

There is nothing quite as tedious as writing a penis and a vagina and the things they do. Because ultimtely the act itself isn't half as interestiing as the things that lead up to it.

So why am I doing it? Because I want to write a specific story for a specific line at a specific publisher. And it needs to be porn.

Gads, might make me swear off sex forever.

Interview with Lila Mae Johnson, owner and operator of Lila's Cut and Shear

With Song of Life, we have a small town, a younger man (Cas) and older woman (Sunny) who must face teir pasts, their future and a town of watchful eyes.

To get the full and true picture of events that unfolded, the best place to go is the beauty parlor. and that would be Lila's Cut and Shear. So we introduce Lila Mae Johnson who has agreed to answer a few of our questions.



You've lived in Nevis for all your life. Did you always know Sunny?


Heavens, child, we went to school together. Took the bus from Nevis to Eufala every day. 'Course, there wasn't much socializing 'tween whites and blacks back then, at least not in public. Even though the schools had been integrated. But Sunny never really cared about all that. More'n once she embarrassed me by taking the seat beside me and talking about the fish we'd caught or some such thing. My mama worked at the Crossroad and old Mr. Douglas let us live in one of the rooms in the basement. Sunny and me did a lot of hiking and even more talking, but it wasn't something I wanted known.Things were different back then. Folks complain nowadays, but I'm here to tell you it's better than it was.


You knew Sunny and Jim her husband. What was the general impression of them around town?


Oh, Jim Douglas, he was the local Prince Charming. Even at school in Eufala, he stood out from the other boys. I'll always maintain it was that hair of his. Pure waste if you ask me. He always kept it covered with a cap unless they was singing the national anthem. A woman would have killed for hair that color. Sunny made a decent princess too, being blond and all, but gradually it become known she was more than a princess, she'd grown into a queen. Now Jim, he stayed Prince Charming, and for sure he could charm the socks off even the men. But that don't put bread on the table, does it?


When did you first notice Cas?


Let's see now, when did I first notice Cas ... reckon it was the first day he come to town. It was early, but I open early, don't see the need to be keeping those fancy city hours. He's a fine looking man, makes a woman wish she was younger, you know? Sunny probably wished that too, but Cas, he don't care nothing about her age, he just loves her. He's a good man, just like my Stan.


What was the general consensus about this young, good looking stranger?


Only one set against him was Ennis and Ida Ratcliff. Ennis, he likes to jump to conclusions and Ida mostly parrots what her brother says without thinking it through. 'Course Wayland Edwards didn't like Sunny taking up with Cas one bit. He'd talked himself into believing Sunny was his woman, no matter what she said to him. Ain't it strange how one thing leads to another? But most folks liked Cas, he gave them no reason not to.


How did people first figure out that Sunny was losing her heart to this young man?

Couldn't say, I'm sure. Might of been when they went out to dinner at Mimi's. Brenda was their waitress and that woman could squeeze blood from a stone if it caught her interest and she was sure interested in Cas and Sunny.


When Cas's father, Jose Aguilar, came to town, how did you hear and what did you hear?


Didn't hear much. The man snuck into town and then he snuck back out and I never knew what happened til Crystal McLaren came rushing into my shop, saying Ennis done arrested Cas.


Did you have any idea that the events that occurred, would or could?


Ma'am, Nevis might be small, but you got southerners living here, decendents of soldiers, moonlighters and hunters. Nothing surprises me anymore.

Do you think the feelings of the town have changed toward Cas now?


Why sure. I don't think anyone was real set against Cas in the first place, except maybe Ida Ratcliff, because everyone knows Ennis is an idiot.


Is there anything you'd like to add?


I've lived awhile and I'm hoping I'll be living a good while more. I seen people fall in love - I got a husband of my own that I love to death. But I ain't never seen nothing like what happened between Sunny and Cas. I never seen two people fit each other better. It's like they grew up together, known each other all their lives. Never seen anything like it. Gives me faith in human kind, it does. Sure does.

Wow!

This has really been an excellent birthday week! Not only for the release of Song of Life, but I also received the cover for Mariposa, my next release. I think it's beautiful, what do you think?

Discrimination is Alive and Well

I want to announce I will not be entering any of my books into the More Than Magic contest, run by Romance Writers Ink, a chapter of RWA.

Okay, the truth is I wasn't going to enter anyway, because I've never heard of these folks. It might be my loss, but somehow I don't think so.

You see, RWI took a big step backward and are busily discriminating against a certain genre of romance writers.

From Courtney Milan's blog:

Apparently, it’s possible for the MTM contest to get entrants’ books in the hands of diverse judges from multiple RWA chapters who are comfortable with all types of romances and heat levels. You can write M/F erotica. You can write M/M/F. You can write about aliens from another planet who have tentacles, or barbed sexual organs. You can write degrading rapes. None of those things are barred from entry in the More than Magic contest, and if you write them, they’ll try to find judges who are predisposed to like your books.

But they won’t do that if you write same sex romance–even if it’s a sweet romance with no sexual contact whatsoever. No–when it comes to same sex romance, the fact that they might be able to identify judges in their chapter or outside of it who would be willing to read same sex entries and judge them fairly somehow becomes irrelevant. In that instance, the majority gets to say that those entries don’t belong.


http://www.courtneymilan.com/ramblings/2012/02/04/dont-enter-more-than-magic/



Courtney's solution? Hop on over there yourself and find out. She says it much better than I ever could. :-)

Song of Life Excerpt

An Excerpt from Song of Life. Boss's orders. ;-)


Sunny left Cas sitting on the couch and retired to the kitchen to start the coffee perking. If there was one thing she’d learned about Cas over the past weeks, it was that he loved his coffee. She returned to take a seat beside him, but still she didn’t speak. She waited.

Cas looked over at her; his lips curved up in a smile. “I sang,” he said, sounding like he still couldn’t believe it.

“You did, and very well too,” Sunny responded.

“I sang,” he repeated.

“How did it feel?” she asked, curious.

“Did you see the Father’s eyes?” he asked, as if she hadn’t spoken. “That damn priest is uncanny. I’d swear his eyes were glowing. It was like he burned a hole through whatever was inside me, made an opening and it all came out. It just came out without me even thinking about it.”

“But how do you feel? Are you okay with it?”

“I’m more than okay, I feel…liberated. Sounds hokey I know, but I didn’t realize until that moment how much was pent up inside me. I feel light.” He laughed and Sunny had to smile with him. His laugh was deep, light hearted, so completely happy.

“I’m glad,” she said simply and laid her hand over his. “I’ll get your coffee. This calls for a celebration.”

He turned his hand and grasped hers, holding her in her seat. “It needs more than coffee to celebrate. How long is a courtship supposed to take anyway?”

“Well now, let me see. You took me out to dinner...”

“Three times,” he emphasized.

“A corndog at the Cornucopia doesn’t count,” she protested, trying her best not to grin.

“Okay, twice then, but snacks ought to count too.”

“All right, I’ll give you the corndog. This is a small town, not many places to eat. Now where was I? Oh yes, you’ve fed me and you did bring me flowers.”

“Mrs. McGregor’s probably sorry she met me. I think I’ve stripped her garden.”

“It’s her own fault. Where’d she hear about this courting thing anyway? Lila’s, that’s where, and she was just being nosy.”

“No, I think she was being kind. She was excited. Sunny, you don’t realize how people feel about you in this town. They want you to be happy.” He brought her hand to his lips. “Do I make you happy?”

“Good Lord, where’d you learn that? You’ve been watching too much TV.”

“Cottage doesn’t have TV. I made it up all on my own.”

He grinned and her insides did a slow melt. The green was blossoming in his eyes, a sure sign his emotions were involved. One black brow was raised, giving him a roguish look. Two dimples had popped out and his smile was so beautiful. The masculinity of his dark face with its high cheekbones was emphasized by the curls framing it, of so dark a black that they gleamed with highlights. Unthinking, she put up her free hand and brushed the curls off his forehead. He caught the hand in his and now he held both her hands, his grasp warm and strong.

“A gift, I haven’t given you a gift.”

“I don’t need gifts, Cas. You couldn’t give me anything that would mean more than…”

Her voice faded as he released her hands and removed the Celtic cross from around his neck.

“No,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “I’ve loved three women in my life,” he said in a louder voice, fumbling behind her neck to fasten the chain. “And two of them belong to this, or it belonged to them. However you want to look at it. I want you to have it. I love you, Sunny and right now it’s all I have to give you. Besides my heart, and I think that’s always belonged to you.”

“Oh, Cas.” She felt overwhelmed and teary. “You do know how to court a woman.”

“Good. It’s something you don’t want too much practice with.”

Sing a Little Song

His name is Cas and he's been running from an abusive, sociopathic father.

Her name is Sunny and her life has been at a standstill for years.

In the town of Nevis, framed by the Blue Ridge Mountains, two people come together and must face their pasts if they wish to make a future. Will a small town accept this young drifter who has captured the widow's heart? And will the violent explosion of his past catching up with him, tear apart the only happiness he's known?

Releases on Monday.