Marcus Monday Mutterings

So, I’m a little tweaked that my first night listening to Blog Talk Radio got censored. I really loved all the shows, but when the “network” guy pulled the plug on Kyra Sutra, I saw red. Apparently, he called her before her show even went on and gave her a tongue lashing. The bad kind, not the good kind. Stuff like that really, really irks me. I don’t like it when people set themselves up as the arbiters of what is offensive. As far as I am concerned, HE was offensive. I have his email addy if anyone wants to email him some REAL smut.

Now, for Monday’s luscious Marcus offering. There are so many to choose from, and he is just sooo beautiful… This is one of his younger pics. His hair’s a little longer, his face less weathered. He’s really just fantasically gorgeous. The weird thing is, I think I like him better in his 30’s. Really. The body is just as hot, but there’s something about the character of his face now that he’s in his late 30’s, that just really makes me shiver. I have a hard time separating Marcus’ face from Alaric’s personality, so here’s a little taste of Alaric Kohl as written by his creator, Opalgirl:

We pull up to the Angel of the Waters Fountain, illuminated with lights the water sparkling in the night. I get out of the carriage and take a deep breath, then turn around and place my hands at her waist, lifting my Angel to the ground. We walk slowly to the fountain and stand in front of it. I wrap my arms around Lexie and rest my chin on her head. “Alexandria? I have something I want to say to you.”

Lex steps away and faces me, “What’s wrong Alaric?” I cursed myself seeing the panic in her eyes. Even after our joining she was still so very unsure. Hopefully, this would finally put her worries to rest.

I kneel down on one knee before her and remove the box from my pocket. “Alexandria Valentine McBain, you are my Beloved. The Angel of my heart and I was so very empty and lost until you invaded my dreams and eventually my soul. Would you grant me the privilege and the honor of being my wife?” I slowly open the box and show her the ring.

Her hands cover her mouth and tears start welling in her eyes, “Oh Alaric! Are you sure this is what you want? Because you don’t have to do this. I wouldn’t ever leave you unless you asked it of me. I don’t need this to know you love me.”

I slowly stand and walk over to her, “I want you, Alexandria. All of you. And most of all, I want the world to know it. I want you to have my name, wear my ring, be my wife, and mother of my children.” I take her hand and slide the ring onto her finger, a perfect fit. “And always, always remember that I am the lucky one. Lucky that you saw the worth in me and allowed me to love you. Not the other way around.” I cup her face and wipe away her tears with my thumbs. “So? You gonna marry me or what, Angel?” I smile down at her.

She nods, “Yes, I’ll marry you. I’ll take your name, I’ll wear your ring, I’ll be your wife and the mother of your children. All of it. I want all of it too, Alaric!” I bend down, capturing her mouth in a hard kiss, pick her up, and swing her around. She breaks the kiss laughing. “I love you, put me down you big giraffe!”

I set her down laughing, “Yeah, but I’m YOUR giraffe, angel.”

Whew! I need to cool myself off after that blast from the Bar past! There are a lot hotter posts, but just imagining Marcus saying those words makes the old ticker thump harder and faster.

Two more things and I can call it quits for today. First up is pimping. I’ve been reading up about pimping out my blog. All the reading has me thinking maybe I should change the name from Life or Something Like (B)it to It’s All About the Bite or Bite Me. My little entrecard and my profile at BlogTalkRadio have the logo with “Bite Me” on it. What do you think?

Also, going hand in hand with the pimping, is that open slot on Fab’s show. I kinda, sorta, tentatively, proffered myself to him for that guest slot. I am a BTR newb. I have no clue how it works or what to do or say. But if Fab wants me, I will pimp myself over to his show and try to be scintillating and sexy. BTW, That’s a banner for Fab who is pimping himself out for a worthy cause. Please feel free to post that banner on your blog and link it to THIS March of Dimes campaign. Happy Birthday Fab! MUAH

More pimping of my blog: My rant is up over at Today’s Gripe and you will find me splashed all over Blogs We Luv on the 11th. I’m learning the pimping ways of the Blogosphere!

My last thing to cover for this post is the Marcus Awards. Next week is our second monthly recap. We are halfway to a prize winner! WOOT! I can hardly wait to tally up the Marcuses to see who is in the lead. This week’s leader was Susan with 6 Marcuses. She’s followed by Mary with 5, and Tempest with 3. Matt, Jennifer and Kaige each earned 2 Marcuses. Our 1 Marcus winners were: Darla, Harris, Laura, Nicholas, Livvy, Shiny, and Mr. Fabulous. Newcomers Nicola Pedley, Ashley Ladd, Swubird, and Wendy each got 1 Marcus too. Congrats to all! Don’t forget to come back and make meaningful comments to earn more Marcuses. And check back a week from today to see who is in the lead for a lovely gift with fangs! Happy Marcus Monday!

I Won’t Be Lost

Sometimes, you have to give a little in order to get something. I’m not talking about dealing with co-workers or selling something. What I’m talking about is writing. Every genre has it’s problems when it comes to writing. For me, the paranormal part is easy. Making up immortal creatures, describing vampires, all pretty ‘snap’ most days. Writing romance is difficult. I’m sure some writers never struggle over that part. I do, and I don’t. But mostly, I do, because I have to give something of myself in order to end up with a scene that brings tears to your eyes.

When I was in my twenties and I was writing song lyrics, Sally, my friend and guitarist, called me The Word Girl. If something didn’t fit the music, give me a few minutes and I’d tweak the lyrics so that they did. I wrote an entire novel, a contemporary romance, called Note By Note, in long hand. *shudder* Scary, huh? My friends that read it loved it! Back then, it was all about the mechanics of writing, following my plot, fleshing out the characters, picking and choosing the right words and tenses. At that point in my life, the romance part wasn’t my focus. I wrote it and it came out pretty good, but from what I remember of it (those notebooks have long since been lost), it was missing the spark that some of my more recent scribbles have.

Writing romance now means that I have to take myself mentally to an emotional place. This is a link to the story I started about McKenna and the male model – A Heart To Match. This part explains how McKenna comes to reach out to the model by posting a comment on his blog. What drives her to reach out to him is the all encompassing feeling of being alone. There’s no words of love in this part of the story, no mushy stuff. It’s about McKenna pouring her feelings into her blog post, and the model’s reaction when he reads it.

To write that piece, I had to take myself back to a time and place I don’t like to remember. But the overwhelming emotions I felt then, make it easy to explain how McKenna feels. I’ve almost literally been in her shoes. It’s a funny thing, to learn so much about yourself and how emotions work, when you realize that there is no one left in your life who loves you.

Fortunately, for me, that period of my life didn’t last too long. The PITA came along and saved me from sinking into an abyss of despair. *rolls eyes* I’m ruthless though. I use those memories as fuel for when I have to write the “mushy stuff”. Lex and Tarren from the Bar are two characters that are infused with my own personal emotion. It’s probably why I refuse to let them go, even though they’ve had their HEAs. Opalgirl is the master of feisty women characters. Me, I’m the master of broken and heartbroken characters. I have a string of them in the Bar. Lex, Tarren, Tait, Bianca, Jensen, Carlisle, Fayne… Even some of my male characters have had their hearts broken in the past: Dominic, Christian, Sebastien, Rune, St. James, and Matt.

I don’t mind giving of myself in order for my characters to come to life. When Tait sings about a man who hates her, when Jensen weeps in front of the mirror, feeling that she’s old and no man will want her, when Bianca thinks that the man she loves has betrayed her, when Carlisle lies in the snow that covers her murdered son’s grave, when Fayne feels that she’s too insignificant for the man she loves to ever notice her, and when Lex gives her own life so that the man she loves can be free of his past and have a happy future… all of those moments were brought to the reader through the auspices of my own pain and loss.

Using those feelings to fuel the words I type is better, and cheaper, than a shrink. I wonder sometimes why so many people I know take anti-anxiety or anti-depression meds. I still have times when I’m overwhelmed and depression sets in. However, overall, I’m resilient and I bounce back, if not to dewy eyed optimism at least to an acceptance of things I have no control over and can’t change. I’d like to think that even without the writing I wouldn’t need all those pills that others take. I don’t know for sure though. I have some pretty fucked up moments inside my head. I can’t see how meds could cure me of them. I mean, you’d have to rid me of my entire thought process, and for some reason, I just don’t see a lobotomy helping my writing any.

No matter how much I give of myself to my characters, there always seems to be more to call upon. I’m not quite sure why that well hasn’t dried up. It just hasn’t. I guess the bottom line is that I refuse to be lost. Instead, I keep giving of myself to fuel Lex and now McKenna. So take a gander at my newest heroine. She brought me to tears tonight so I really hope you like her and the direction I’m taking with A Heart to Match!

What I’ve Done

I haven’t done anything yet. I just woke up and checked my email. I won a zip drive on eBay. I need this because I cannot find the 2 zip drives I own, and my high res cleavage pics are on a zip disk. You prolly remember my rant from last week that included being tweaked about the missing zip drives. Mr. Fabulous has extended the time for the cleavage contest, which gives the new zip drive an opportunity to arrive. My cleavage pics are really very good pics. I am amazed every time I see them!

The reason for the title of this blog is that my cell phone plays “What I’ve Done” by Linkin Park when someone not on my contact list calls. Apparently, Kaige called while I was sleeping. Well, not really. But what she did do was tag me for a meme. I’m not yet sure I like memes. I mean the last time I got tagged with a meme, everyone I gave it to either didn’t do it or had already done it a thousand times. To give Kaige her due, she says this one is new. It’s like Telephone. Huh.

So if I have to tag three more people for this, how the hell do I do that? Well, I figure I can payback Tempest for tagging me with the last one. She writes. This won’t be hard for her. I’ll get Shiny. She likes little writing games. If you haven’t read Shiny’s blog, give it a try. She’s new to blogging, but her chill pill post was an interesting rant.

It’s a toss up for who I’ll pick for the third tag. I REALLY want to see Matt-Man do this. He’s ultra creative, sly and amusing, and he has a really big great organ. However, I’ll be a good girl and tag Jennifer, since she’s a writer. It’s a writing meme, so I guess I should choose only those people who call themselves writers. Matt ruminates and lets it spill over onto his blog and makes the rest of us spit up whatever we’re drinking all over our monitors. Ya gotta luv a man with talent!

BTW, I submitted my IT rant at Today’s Gripe. I hope they post it. It felt sooo good to rant. Also, I have a mini rant about the Sunday Scribble thing before I actually get to this meme. Susan said, “Just use something you’ve already posted”. Not a bad suggestion, so I tried it. Guess what happened? The Sunday Scribble people didn’t really like that. They didn’t name names, of course, but I totally feel like I got a gentle chiding. It goes like this:

We’ve had a few new members lately! Welcome!! Just a few reminders for you: Please make sure that when you put in your link that you give the link to the actual post that makes sense with the prompt, not just to your blog. Also please try to write something new for the prompt. That is what this is all about after all!

Guess who ain’t going back? What I did post for their word thingy was more than a measly little paragraph. It was a post that required time and thought and a lot of creative energy, when I wrote it. Sure, it wasn’t MEANT specifically for their little exercise, but it takes time to figure out something that fits the prompt. The chiding didn’t endear them to me, although I could be taking it entirely wrong. Still, I knew there was a reason I didn’t play those little “exercise” games. Rant done. Whew! I’m in a bitchy fucked up mood, ain’t I?

Okay, so here’s how this meme works. Alice from Alice’s Restaurant started this meme. It’s that game called Telephone that I never played as a kid. I don’t think it was around then. I mean, my friends and I weren’t into the phone. We rode bikes and skateboards and threw rocks at cows. We weren’t interested in word games. Anyway, Alice wrote a little paragraph. She tagged some folks and asked them to change the paragraph and tag some other folks. The tagged peeps gotta change the paragraph, but not so much that you can’t tell it came from the tagger’s paragraph. Does that make sense? I wonder… but then again, I haven’t had coffee yet and my eyeballs feel swollen.

Here’s the rules for this meme:

1. Change something in the paragraph you received; a minimum of 1 word, a maximum of 20 words.
2. Link to the post at Alice’s Restaurant and leave a comment so we can keep track of what happens to the paragraph. Alice will link back to you.
3. Link to the person who tagged you, preferably to where ever they posted their version of the paragraph.
4. Tag three people you think might enjoy this game. Let them know they’ve been tagged. Link to them.
5. Include these rules in your post.

Here’s my paragraph. Tempest, Shiny, and Jennifer, consider yourselves spray painted with graffiti tagged!

James and Will went up Kite Hill to find some privacy. James fell down and hit his thigh and asked Will to kiss the owie. Will was drunk but happy to oblige James’ desires without further encouragement. However, kisses weren’t enough. If he hadn’t already lost his heart to James, he would never have gotten on his knees to begin with.

Am I evil? I feel evil. I changed that paragraph but good! HEH HEH. I shoulda had Will blowing James, but I couldn’t figure out how to do that without changing more than 20 words. Hot man love. Just what we all need on a Saturday morning.

Thursday Thirteen the Sixth

If you read last night’s rant and read the X-rated link I left in the comments, you will know why this TT is late, and not thorough like my others have been. Meh. Everyone’s entitled to an off Thursday.

Thirteen Bits About The Bar Story

1. The Bar Story started at author Katie MacAlister’s forum. It was originally supposed to be RP, I think, but it evolved over time into a true serial story.

2. I came to the story about a year after it started. It took me two weeks to read all the posts and figure out how I was going to insert a new main character into the storylines.

3. We call our XXX rated sex posts WOFs, which stands for Words on Fire. When the Bar was at Katie’s site, we had to have a separate section for over 18 only, where we posted explicit sex scenes. It was a bit of a drag and eventually Shiny said, why are we doing this? She expressed a wish for our own board so we could get rid of the whole WOF thread and just post a sex scene like we would any other. Me, being the net fiend that I am, knew how to make a message board… so I did! And the Bar Forum was born.

4. Almost every character has a physical representation by someone famous or quasi-famous. We have some pics on the forum, mostly newer characters, but all of them are on a webpage. Usually we introduce a new character by posting their pic on the forum. That way, everyone knows someone new is coming to the story!

5. There are 7 active writers of the Bar Story: Opalgirl, RxQueen (Shiny), Mary, Avalon, Serenity, Twisted, Del, and myself. We have a few people who left the story due to real life issues and we’ve all been hopeful they will return, but it doesn’t look like they will. Those folks are Spottboy, Gayla, Fang, and Kitt.

6. Speaking of the writers, there are two men who have contributed to this story, Spottboy and Twisted. Spottboy is Mary’s DH. He’s in the National Guard. Twisted is a hottie from Scotland who is an art student.

7. We’ve only had one official wedding at the Bar, Alaric and Alexandria’s. They got hitched at the Bellagio.

8. We’ve had one live birth at the Bar, record producer Dominic Solent’s daughter who is actually the product of a bit of magic and blood from a demi-goddess. We’ve also had a hatching – quadruplet dragons who have special powers and were prophesied to unite the dragon world.

9. We have a few completely new races of Immortals that we created ourselves, elementals, Enchanters, and Fallen Angels. At least, those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Opalgirl created the elementals. Serenity created the Enchanters, and I created the Fallen Angels.

10. Gayla is so beloved and missed that even though her two main characters Gayla and Nikolai are no longer being written, the other writers still write about them. We’ve also taken on two of her minor characters, Gayla’s dad Dravened Draco and Nik’s brother Demetri, and continued on with them.

11. I killed off a major villain with an amusing quip. Onyx the evil black dragon challenged his half brother Tristan for his mate, and control of the black sept. They have a big sword fight and Onyx loses. He’s laying on the floor, with Tristan’s sword Redemption at his throat, and he’s taunting Tristan that he will never be half the wyvern Onyx was. He’s babbling about how the history books will portray him as the better wyvern. Tristan cuts off his head in mid sentence. When Tristan calls his daughter Rhiannon to tell her all is well, he tells her that Onyx was babbling and he shut him up the only way he knew how. Heh heh.

12. Our vampires don’t explode into ash in the sunlight. They basically just get a bad sunburn. Plus, the older they are, the easier they withstand the light.

13. We tried introducing a werewolf into the story once, but he really didn’t take, so Opal killed him off. When she reintroduced the weres, she brought in packs and now they are an integral part of the story.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!
The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

That’s it for this Thursday! If the Bar interests you, come on by and sign up for the forum. Either I or the luscious Opalgirl will approve you and point you in the direction of all the sex posts! It really is a fascinating and fun read.

Dream Time Machine

Susan over at West of Mars was telling me about writing prompts. Now, I usually have enough stuff to write that I don’t get involved in these things. If I did, I’d never get my Bar posts done! However, her suggestion was to look for a prior Bar post that fit the prompt. I kinda blew the whole thing off in my head, but then I went to Mr. Grudge’s blog. His post today talks about writers stretching themselves. I dunno, somewhere between the two writing things and a grilled cheese sandwich (yes Matt, with Velveeta!), I decided to look at Sunday Scribblings. The prompt was Time Machine.

My excuse to Susan for pooh poohing the prompts was that there are so many Bar posts that by the time I found the one that worked, it would be time for another prompt. Okay, I exaggerated. Well, only a little really, because on a bad week, that is probably very true. However, Time Machine did make me think of a particular post.

In the Bar Story, Alaric and Alexandria find themselves in shared dreams even before they meet. They both have the same dream at the same time, hearing, seeing, feeling, and tasting the same things. The dreams are visions of what their future could be, if only they would take control of their destiny. After they meet, the dreams basically start coming true. So to tie in the prompt in a very creative way, the time machine for Alaric and Lex, is their shared dreams of the future.

And now, without further ado… My Time Machine prompt: Our Lives

The stars were incredibly bright in the night sky. Every one of the French doors stood open to the warm summer breeze. I could see the fountain at the front of the house shooting up into the air, the lights and music making the whole picture a beautiful tableau like a mini Bellagio. My heart swelled with love as I sat in the rocker just inside the French doors. Alaric was so over the top sometimes, I thought with an indulgent smile. Creating his own personal version of the Bellagio fountain was his idea of a gift. We danced on the terrace outside our bedroom whenever he cued up the music from our wedding. He was the most romantic man I had ever known…

“Angel, you bring it out in me,” he murmured, coming up behind me and dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “I was just a drunk before I met you.”

I gazed up at him with my heart in my eyes. “And I was just dying,” I smiled. “We were certainly a pretty pair, weren’t we?”

Alaric pulled up a chair and sat down beside me. “We were, and are, a perfect pair,” he maintained. His eyes dropped from mine to the blanket wrapped bundle in my arms. The baby’s fist was nestled up against my breast as he suckled. His head, with its tuft of dark downy hair, rested in the crook of my arm. The blanket, predictably, had giraffes on it.

I looked up at Alaric and saw the tears in his eyes as he watched his son nurse. He reached out with one long finger and stroked the baby’s cheek. The baby opened his eyes sleepily, and then grasped the finger with his hand. “He knows it’s you,” I whispered. “He knows you love him.”

“Angel, there is nothing in the world I love more than the two of you,” Alaric husked, his voice filled with emotion. “You and Aric are everything to me.”

The baby blinked up at us with dark blue eyes as his little rosebud mouth worked my nipple. My heart ached with love for my husband and my son. “This is everything I ever wanted out of life,” I said softly, reaching with my free hand to touch the side of Alaric’s face. He turned his head and kissed my palm, his blue eyes shining with love. “A home, a beloved, children, and a career. I can’t believe I have it all.”

“And a family too,” Alaric added with a smile. “Mom and Dad and Lucius love you too. And don’t forget Carlisle and Stein.”

I sighed with contentment and looked down, as Aric finishing nursing. His head fell back away from my breast, as his eyes closed and sleep overcame him. I lifted him carefully to my shoulder to burp him, but felt Alaric’s hands stop me. He took the blanket off my shoulder and draped it across his own broad shoulder. Then he took Aric from me and nestled him against the folded blanket, rubbing the baby’s back in circles and giving him an occasional soft pat. I wiped my breast and adjusted my shirt, all the while watching my love burp his son. It was such a beautifully emotional thing to see, the way the huge man cared for the tiny baby.

Aric let out a huge burp, and my startled eyes flew to Alaric’s. He laughed softly and got up to put the sleeping baby in the carousel crib that stood near our bed. He came back and took my hand, leading me out onto the terrace where he drew me into his arms and kissed me, first gently with love, and then with fast rising passion.

“This is our life Angel,” he murmured against my mouth. “Believe it…”

My eyes opened slowly. It was morning. I could hear the birds outside the little round window near our bed at Soleil Sombre. It was dark in the bedroom, as all the windows were covered with blinds to keep out the sun. I lay on my back, feeling the pleasant pull of my muscles after the rigorous sex Alaric and I had engaged in earlier. My husband’s arm lay heavily across my abdomen. I could hear his even breathing, and feel his breath on my naked shoulder.

Then his arm moved. I felt his hand gently stroking the slight curve of my belly. “Is he there yet?” Alaric asked softly. “I wonder…”

I stroked my hand over his hard arm. “I wonder too,” I whispered. “Especially after the dream.”

“His eyes are blue, Angel,” Alaric sighed with contentment.

“They could change and get darker,” I told him. “Most babies have blue eyes when they are born, and his were a very dark blue like Carlisle’s.” I turned my head, and my eyes met Alaric’s. “You called him Aric.”

A grin broke out on Alaric’s face. “I’ve been thinking of names,” he admitted. “My name means noble ruler. Aric means eternal ruler.”

“So no Alaric Junior?” I asked with a smile.

“Nah. Maybe my first name as a middle name, but we don’t need two Als running around the house. You’d get confused love,” he chuckled, teasingly.

I turned into his arms and felt him cradling me close to his big body. I nestled my cheek on his chest, my fingers stroking his collarbone. “No, I wouldn’t.” I sighed contentedly. “But feeling him nursing, his little fist kneading my breast…Oh, Alaric, that was amazing.”

“I know how you feel,” he admitted, holding me tightly. “When his hand gripped my finger, my heart turned over.”

“This is what we have to look forward to, my love. All of it.” I pressed a kiss to his skin, loving the taste and scent of him.

“I guess I better find an architect to handle the fountain,” Alaric laughed softly. “I need someone to redesign the bathrooms anyway. I’ll call Lucius when we get up. He’s had several working on blueprints for Stein.”

“Our bed comes today,” I reminded him. “You picked up the stuff on my list, didn’t you?” When he nodded sleepily, I said, “Then we’re going home tonight, Alaric. We’ll sleep in our bed, in our house.”

He let out a long sleepy sigh. “With you in my arms, it’s gonna be heaven,” he murmured as he drifted back to sleep.

I relaxed in his arms, my thoughts on the dream. I closed my eyes and let the sound of my beloved’s heartbeat lull me to sleep…

Ah, they are so cute aren’t they? Okay, enough of the mushy shit. Here is a hardcore wallpaper for my bitch Mary. Hardbodies. Not one, but three of them! WOOT! Click on this carefully, then when it opens, right click, and save it as your wallpaper. Afterward, make sure your paper towels or napkins are nearby so you can quickly clean up the drool.

Those hotties made me hungry. I need another grilled cheese. And maybe some Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream… oh, yeah. I could live on this. Unless I was going meatless like Matt. In which case, I would crave steak and pork chops incessantly. Hope you enjoyed the Tuesday Tune, the Sunday Scribble writing prompt, and the peek into the Dream Time Machine of the Bar. I’m out… the ice cream is calling me!