The Hangover

Rott and I watched the Hangover last night. We’d seen it before, but it’s funny and we needed a mindless laugh.  The movie did make me think about memory and all the stuff that’s in our heads. When I speak with someone I’ve known for years and they bring up something from our collective pasts, I’ve noticed that sometimes I don’t remember the event right away. The other person has to say, “Oh, but don’t you remember that we did this…” Then they give some details and the memory comes crashing back to me. I find this happening more and more.

On my depressed days, I think “Shit! You’ve got Alzheimer’s!” Most days, I tend to think it’s that my head is like a filing cabinet. There are only so many papers it will hold for easy access and some papers have to be filed in some other storage place, to be taken out only when prompted. It’s a good analogy for my memory. I remember stuff but sometimes only when prompted.

Then I wonder if all the stories I think up to write, the plots and characters, aren’t filling up those top drawers of the filing cabinet in my brain and relegating things I really should remember to the lower levels or the other storage. If I spend so much time working on these worlds so that I can remember all their details is it messing with my memory?

And seriously, some of the minutia of my past feels like it’s completely gone, like those guys in the Hangover.  I have some blank spots and I think “What the hell was I doing in 1983?” It’s not like I have huge blank spots but I realize that elementary school isn’t going to remain bright and clear in my memory no matter how many photos I look at. It was just too long ago and my brain back then wasn’t as sharp. Kids remember stuff weird anyway. It’s one of those things where you swear you wore a pink dress with roses on it and full skirt at your oldest brother’s wedding only to have your mom look at you strangely and show you a photo of yourself in a pink and white Empire gown with a narrow skirt. Your brain remembered the dress the twelve year old you wanted not the one you ended up with.

The mind is a freaky thing. I don’t think I can make my memory better. It’s probably just going to get foggier the older I get and memories are going to disappear because they aren’t taken out a regular basis. And because they just aren’t important things to remember anymore.  So at some point I’ll be like those Hangover guys and someone will talk about all the fun we had at some event 30 years ago and I’m just gonna draw a huge blank. Hopefully, the other person won’t think I’ve lost my mind, but will understand that it’s just over full.

I’ve got a nice Marcus for this gloomy Monday. I need a little something to brighten the fact that it’s Monday. Funny how I hate going to work, but I love being at work.  I would actually prolly love it a million times more if I could go in a couple hours later, leave a couple hours earlier and wear my pajamas or at the very least my sweats there. But then, everyone has that wish don’t they? LOL I also envy men being able to go shirtless when it’s hot.

Ah, a man in a skirt. How hot is that? At least he has a great body to pull it off. And you can spend all day wondering what’s underneath it…

Wishing you all a great Monday!


This is a goulash post today, a little bit of everything.  My brain is a little too fried to actually come up with a topic to discuss or yak about so I figured I’d just let it wander from topic to topic as I ramble on.


Okay, so I got tagged for this Bald Face Liar game. Originally, when I first saw this meme on a few blogs, I laughed because a couple of the authors who were playing really are bald faced liars so I found it rather ironic. I never did do memes well and I prefer the truth even with regard to games so I doubt I’ll play.  My friend Lisa is playing though, so if you want to see how it works click on her name and check it out.


I had lunch on Saturday with an author! A real live totally awesome author! Z.A. Maxfield and I held down a corner booth at Claim Jumper for three hours and talked about everything.  I can’t believe how much fun it was. I can’t believe I hadn’t come out of my dark cave sooner to meet her. But now that I have, we have plans. First, we plan on doing this monthly. Second, we plan on descending on the Orange County chapter of the Romance Writer’s of America to see how two authors of M/M romantic fiction can stir things up.


Speaking of RWA, since Pink Petal Books is now allowed in, I’m going to join RWA and submit my PAN application since I do happen to fit the criteria of the elite group who made a thousand bucks in royalties in a year (I think I did it in about 6 months which is amazing from a little pub) on a single title. Fire Season is the book that did it so I might as well show off the fact that it’s a bestseller. I’ll probably join the Rainbow (GLBT) and Passionate Ink (erotic) chapters too. I need to check out the OC chapter before I join. It seemed kind boring but ya never know. ZAM and I will give them a look over and see if it’s worth belonging to.


I’m knitting together all the scenes for Common Ground. I’m very close to finishing this. I just have a bare handful of scenes to complete with a little weaving and it will done. Won’t be as long as Ride the Lightning or Fire Season, which were both closer to 60K. This one will be under 50K. But it’s the introduction to the werewolves so the dragons have very little face time. However, it lays the ground work for two other stories in the series. One is Sunstroked which is the book that follows this one and is about Colin’s very happy assistant Corey. (Who isn’t very happy in the beginning of the book.) The second is Thunder and Myth which is the story of how Diandra Antaeus left her family for Ruan McCallan and what happens years later when Ruan manages to push even Di away. Look for Common Ground in July and Sunstroked in the fall.

The Bar

It’s buh bye to something very dear to my heart. By the end of this week the Bar will be gone. With big gaping holes in the story from posts deleted by writers who left, it wasn’t worth keeping up. A couple of the other writers are copying their posts to save and once they are done this week, I’m taking the site down and deleting the domain. It’s like the end of an era and it’s a little heartbreaking for me.


Rott and I had a scare over the weekend. His mom had a bout of severe confusion so his step-dad took her to the hospital where they kept her overnight and did an MRI and some other tests. They let her go home the next day and I guess we’ll eventually find out what the tests have to say. It really shook Rott up though.


Yes, Stone Temple Pilots have a new CD that is out tomorrow! Rott and I are stoked. We’ve already ordered a copy. We’ve debated going to see them when they come around and I don’t mind watching Weiland bounce around the stage totally high off his ass but for some reason Rott seems to have some reservations about that. Neither of us have looked up dates yet so there’s a good chance we may not even have the opportunity to see them. The other CD we’re early awaiting is the new Nevermore which is out in June.


I got a pedicure on Friday and I could have cried. It felt soooo good! I’ve neglected to do this for myself for a year and now I’m so sorry that I did. It was relaxing and my feet feel great. I need to give myself that pampering every two weeks and stop being such a pissant about it taking away my writing time. I can use the time to read on my Nookie and reading always rejuvenates a writer so I just don’t have any excuses except that I’m a lazy so and so.


The Bar may be gone but I will never give up my Marcus!


I’m having a bad patch with my asthma. It happens once in awhile. The least little exertion has me gasping for air. It sucks eggs in a major way. Unfortunately, it’s one of those times where my meds just don’t do jack. It always seems to occur a couple of times a year…getting so bad that nothing works and all I can do is stay indoors as much as possible and not have to walk more than a few feet at a time and not carry or lift anything heavier than my purse. It will ease up. It always does. I’m just miserable until it does though.

Memorial Day

I have to work. We always work on Memorial Day because there’s a big event at the cemetery. Actually, I’ll be inside doing the deposit for my friend Liz who normally does them. She’s on golf cart duty this year ferrying the handicapped visitors to the event. Since it’s month end and we can’t afford a lost day, I get to stay out of the sun and count money. It’s really quiet inside the building on Memorial Day. Even quieter than it is on a weekend. But usually, that means I’ll get done quicker. 🙂 And we sometimes get lunch too. Chicken or hot dogs. Nothing special but free food is always nice.

I’m going to stop rambling now and toddle off to work. You all have a great Monday!

Lunch With Lex

I’ll be going to lunch with author Z.A. Maxfield this weekend so I thought I’d post a little story I wrote after I went to lunch at a new sandwich place one workday. This is written in 3rd omni in order to give you the nuances in the  best way, so don’t shoot me over POV. LOL It’s just a quick little true story about how lunch can quickly become…something more. Enjoy!

Lex walked into Which Wich and carefully ordered her sandwich, a cookie, and a pineapple milkshake. After paying, she moved to the far end of the sandwich shop and leaned against a wall, watching the staff make sandwiches. Absently, she sucked on the straw, thinking about her current WIP and what needed to happen next. She never realized that she must have somehow presented some sort of strange picture sucking on the straw, wrapping her tongue around it, eyes narrowed to slits as the creamy shake oozed from the straw onto her tongue all the while with a faraway expression in her big brown eyes.

A movement across the room caught her eye and Lex looked up from her shake to see a tall man with impossibly broad shoulders barely contained in a navy tank top. He was headed right for her. She blinked in astonishment. The man wore shorts and flip flops and walked with a cock-first kind of stride that she recognized from what she liked to call her “slutty past.”

Cocking up her right brow just slightly, she eyed the young man who had to be at least twenty years her junior. He had the kind of hotness women got drooly over. Raven hair, a lean, chiseled, stubbled jaw… and oh, those shoulders. The muscles rippled as he walked, yet he wasn’t muscle bound like a bodybuilder. He had lean hips and the thighs beneath his loose khaki shorts spoke of wiry muscle not bulk.

Sky blue eyes beneath impossibly black brows focused directly on her… and no one else. He walked toward her, ignoring the stares of men and women alike as he crossed the busy sandwich shop. Beauty like his commanded attention and it had Lex’s too, but for a different reason.

For all of three seconds she remembered what it was like to be twenty years younger and on the prowl. A plethora of sexual double entendres hovered on her tongue born from an instant spike of animal attraction. Then her lips twitched as amusement took over. Of all the people in the shop, he had to make a beeline for her. She wondered why until he spoke.

“Is that a pineapple milkshake?” he asked as he stopped a mere two feet from her, oozing sexuality.

His eyes blinked slowly, a move probably designed to make her melt. He was obviously used to people falling all over themselves with him. She could see the anticipation in his gorgeous eyes as he waited for her to get starry-eyed over him.

Her brow arced a little higher and her mouth curved up in a wry smile. “Yeah. It is pineapple,” she replied coolly, her gaze stroking over the perfect lines of his shoulders and arms. He sure was pretty, she thought to herself and stuck the straw back in her mouth, her tongue twining around it before she sucked.

The young man’s eyes glittered knowingly. He watched her suck on the straw, his own tongue peeping out to lick at the corners of his mouth. “I was going to get that, but I didn’t know if it was any good,” he murmured and Lex wondered if he realized that someone might think his words weren’t about the milkshake.

“Oh, it’s good, but it’s not real pineappley,” she told him smoothly.

She sucked on the straw again and the young man started to move forward. He jerked then, bumped from behind by a friend. He turned away as they discussed their drinks and sandwiches. Lex leaned on the wall, her mouth quirked up in a smile of immense amusement. She didn’t look like much that day. Black suede flats. Black and white tweedy baggy pants with cuffs. An off white henley type shirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her hair was fuzzy from the humidity and shoved into a scrunchie. As usual, she wore no makeup but her expressive eyes rarely needed any.

The young man and his friends moved away. As the other two men pushed in front of the beautiful man, he looked back over his shoulder at Lex. She noticed that the back of his left arm had an Old English R tattooed on it. The back of the right arm had an L. His sky blue eyes flicked over her from her grey streaked, mussed hair to her wry expression, and the body that was no longer trim and muscular as it had been twenty years before.

And then he smiled, white teeth flashing. As he turned back to his friend, his left eyelid dipped in a wink. Lex let the tip of her tongue spiral around the straw and the young man laughed, his hand lifting in a sort of wave to her as he left the shop. Returning to her shake, Lex looked around the shop and found every eye, male and female alike, on her. This time, both her brows rose. Apparently, weeks away from her 49th birthday, overweight by more pounds than she would ever admit to, and definitely not dressed for success, Lex still had an indefinable something that sparked hot men.

The counter person called her name and she took her sandwich, walking out of the shop with that wry smile still on her face. More than one of her boyfriends had said her eyes could seduce a monk. A man young enough to be her son seemed about on a par with monks to her these days so she figured she was doing okay for an old lady who wrote sex scenes in her spare time and called them novels.

She unlocked her non-descript Dodge and tossed the sandwich in, eyeing the pineapple milkshake. “Yeah, I’ve always loved a good pineapple shake. You just never know what will happen when you’re sucking on something you love…” she murmured wickedly.

If you’re interested, the guy sorta looked like this:

Can You Believe?

Can you believe I had a blog post for today all set in my head on Saturday? Rott said something, a “Can you believe…?” thing, and we were both laughing and I said, “That’s my blog post for Monday!” and we expounded on it… and… Um, yeah. I can’t remember it. So I guess my post is Can You Believe I Forgot My Blog Post?

It will probably come back to me when I’ve stopped trying to remember what it is. The sad thing is, I know I should write shit down. Not only am I getting older and more ADD by the day, but I juggle a lot of stuff. Not just at work, although I swear they should give out a juggling award and I should be its first recipient, but I juggle a lot at home. It’s rough to have three careers.

When I think about all the stuff I’ve forgotten or don’t remember clearly, it bothers me. And really, I know that it’s not that I’ve truly forgotten stuff but more like other things have crowded to the front of my brain. I have a lot of vague crap in my memory.

Thanks to Hilly, whose Facebook posts hold me riveted more than anything since I found Facebook, I’ve actually spent some time there. Spending time there has led to me finding people I had lost. People I should never have lost in the first place. But see, for a writer, I’m also a bad communicator. I hate talking on the phone. I’d much rather see someone’s face or read an email. People tend to pour stuff into an email that they wouldn’t say on the phone, especially when they know they aren’t going to see you any time soon or speak to you on the phone.  On the phone, you distract each other and the things you had planned to say often go astray. You don’t forget them, you just forget them right at that moment.

So I’ve found some people from my past that I was excited to reconnect with. Like J.J. who helped Jason teach me how to swim when I was 26 years old and deathly frightened of the water. These two 15 year olds made it their mission for the summer to teach me to swim.  And they did. I can’t say that I remember how to swim now, but by the end of that summer I could dog paddle my way underwater across the width of the pool. A huge accomplishment for a woman deathly afraid of the water.

I also found a woman I used to work with. Not only do I remember the bright red hair and sparkling smile – both of which are still there in abundance if the photos are to be believed – but I remember what a nice person she was. Sweet, but with a hint of spice, fun and little bit funny, and the only person I can think of who could get an entire roomful of people who were prepared to embark on a stuffy conference to do the Macarena. No, I did not do the Macarena myself. Instead, I stood there and watched Carmen weave her magic. And it was magic. The moment stands out in my memory clearly and hasn’t been shoved to the back amongst all the other stuff I barely remember.

I guess I’ll post that scintillating blog post when I remember it. If I remember it.  Doesn’t matter if I don’t though. There are a lot of other more fun and heartwarming things I can remember in my old brain now that I’ve found some people I lost. It feels better than finding money. And I could blame it on Hilly because I’ve been so caught up in watching her happiness bloom. But I guess the reality is that the cosmos knew I needed to find these people again… right now. So I guess I can believe. 🙂

As usual, before I close my Monday post, I have a Marcus. An oh so yummeh Marcus. I guess Mondays really aren’t so blah when I can hare off to work with that vision of him fresh in my head.

I seriously love that man’s chest. *Drool*

Before I take off, I have a couple of bits of info on the writing front. I’ll prolly have a more in depth post on this stuff later in the month here or over on the Lex Valentine blog. Where There’s Smoke has finished edits but I don’t have a release date yet. Dee Carney‘s book Deeper Than the Ocean is the first book in the trilogy and it’s out now at Liquid Silver Books. Mina Carter‘s book Playing Wolf is the second book in the series and my book concludes it and wraps up the entertwined stories of four brothers whose father tries to murder them.

Insolence will be out April 16 at Cobblestone Press and it’s a friends to lovers story with a little twist of BDSM to spice it up.  I finalized the cover for Sunstroked. Still not happy with Common Ground’s cover, but I need to finish that story anyway. I’ll prolly work on it during Cobblestone’s Book In a Week challenge.  Maybe I’ll share some covers later this week. We’ll see how strapped I am for time.

Oh, and a big THANK YOU to Dave2 for helping me with something that I KNEW he would know. He’s so smart. And purdy too. 😉

Hope you all have a great Monday!

Burning Eyes

Maybe I need to sneak some of Rott’s Visine. Or maybe I need to not work so hard.

I wrote yesterday. I was a tad on fire for awhile. I napped too but when I awoke from the nap I was on fire again. A whole helluva lot of words later, I went to bed. It was 1 am.

I’ve done the late night writing gig before. I don’t do it as well this year as I did last year. Must be an age and stress thing. Or it could be a Daylight Savings time thing. What a crock of shit DST is anyway. I don’t have to reset the time in my car with a pen because yanno…I never turned the effing thing back! Cause it’s stupid!

Still, this morning my eyes are burning and my temples are pounding.  And the office beckons.

Sometimes I think it would be great to be able to stay home all day and write. Then I realize I’d probably leave my house about twice a month if that happened.  Working gets me out of the house and interacting with people. Writing has me pounding my keyboard and being pissy to my email, IM, and Twitter. (ie shutting them off and ignoring people.) And I’d have burning eyes all the time!

I’d much rather have my eyes burn for other reasons. Like staying up all night have marathon sex. Ummm, yeah. The spirit is willing but the body is weak.  *sigh* Actually, the body is more than weak. It’s kinda beat up. I prolly shoulda taken better care of it during those years I was having marathon sex. I’ve found I can write marathon sex without beating myself up too much, but then that brings me back to… burning eyes.  I don’t think I can win this morning.

I wish I had something deep and succinct to impart to you today, but I don’t. Oh, maybe a snippet of lyrics before I get to Marcus.

A piece of heaven

In your arms every night

I can’t forget, I don’t regret

Staying with you

I can’t go back and I won’t fight

To hold you if you want to fly

My eyes are open wide

My heart knows what’s right

And my soul belongs to you

Traded for a piece of heaven tonight

Rough draft. Don’t shoot me. Ah, time for Marcus.  I need a nice soothing one this morning.

Okay, maybe that didn’t have the effect I thought it would. And the burning eyes thing is still eating me cause I’m not the only one with them. Apparently, some people have trained theirs on my back where there’s again a target of sorts. I thought I’d tossed that raggedy old target in the trash but it’s found its way back onto my back.  And burning eyes are trained on it. I need to hunt down my Kevlar again so that I may walk through the valley of the shadow of death (promo groups) and fear no slings and arrows aimed at said target. You don’t get me, but it’s okay. All I’m gonna say is that people suck, burning eyes and all.

I’m taking my burning eyes off the office now. Sorry for the randomly cryptic post. Gimme a few days and I’ll be more succinct. Happy Visine Monday!