Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Dear Idiot #1 and 2,

I caught your debate on Goodreads and was intrigued enough to enough to see what all the fuss was about. I downloaded both and read them over last week, and let me say: I have no idea why you two would seek to draw attention to yourselves this way.

You may both be talented writers, but it's clear you both are rather delusional, amongst other mental deficiencies, which only mars your stories...

Emma, what I can I say? They have support groups for those obsessed with Twilight. You need to find one and quickly. I don't know if you know this, but even Stephanie Meyers has abandoned her series. Twilight is over, and I hate to tell you this but even the actors have given up on it, and each other. Not to mention, they got back together briefly, which invalidates your plot/fantasy. So basically, we can deep six your book, but we won't, just for the purpose of smearing it across Cyberland.

Jacy, I had a real problem with your book. Girl, Elvis is dead and I hope most of his fans have found a new obsession, because when Elvis when to Los Vegas it resulted in the sort of mind blowing travesty the Federal government should have stepped in to prevent. I'm talking about the sort of heinous misjudgment that could upset the natural order of the universe and end life as we know it. Someone should've retired Elvis few jelly donuts before he got to that point. You deserve to be hung and quartered for even thinking about introducing him in your book. It should be a crime resurrecting a sad, pathetic American icon in a book for the mere hope his name might sell a few books! We don't need to be reminded, we need to forget.

Emma, you're just as bad. I meant what the hell! Even Priceline killed off William Shatner, I'm not sure who is worse. Elvis or Shatner. But Shatner never could act, and as he became rounder and more arrogant, what few acting skills he owned gone as fast as warp speed. You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking that was a good idea.

But, having looked at what was suppose to be your criteria for a quirky romance, I managed to somehow overcome these horrible absurdities and try to judge you books fairly. And while I think you both are complete idiots of the first order, I will try to actually debate the merits of your badly flawed books tomorrow on Goodreads, if you have the courage to accept my challenge.

Sincerely,
The reviewnutt,
Your 1234567 fan.


Help me my dear friends...I implore you!

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Dear love of my life,

While I bought you the X-Box you so wanted, the true gift I am giving you is me, all of me.
I hope your realize what a gift I'm giving, not because I'm conceited, thinking I am all of that. No, what I mean is this: I am giving you all of me. I'm not holding anything back. Anything you want is yours, just ask.
For the first time of my life, I have found someone I can trust with my heart and soul, someone I know won't take advantage of me, using that intimate access to hurt me, at least not intentionally.
I have never in my life ever been able to give myself completely to someone, never. It is because I am so in love with you that I do, because in truth, my love, I am so uncomfortable giving you me. I don't think I could survive if you didn't realize what I was giving, and give yourself back in return, if you rejected me. I don't know that I would survive it.
But I know your that special guy I have been searching for entire life, you would never, you love me as much as I love you.
Thank you my love...


Merry Christmas.

Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...

Monday, December 23, 2013

(Day 1) Dear love of my life...

One more day till Christmas, what would you like to do tonight?
You want to read me? I'm flattered. Well, here is another excerpt from:
Bobby laughed with me and the gulf between us narrowed. “So what do Mermadians eat? Do we have anything that compares here on earth? Besides us humans?”
I almost choked, just barely managing to swallow the the creamy feeling of the pudding as it slid gracefully down my throat. “You have many things we can eat here, besides you. Actually, very few of us have ever tried humans, it's becoming a forbidden delicacy.”
So you won't be tempted.”
No! It's very hard on our digestive systems, and honestly, I don't understand the temptation.” I laughed, trying to make it a joke. Then I thought how that must sound. “You never have to worry, I would never eat you.”
I never thought that. You couldn't, if you love me.”
And I do.”
The rest was left unspoken and I appreciated that from him. He understood I wasn't barbaric, that I would never even think about it. Even if I could separate him from the rest of the humans, I wouldn't.


Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...

Saturday, December 21, 2013

(Day 2) Dear love of my life...

Yes, we forgot some Christmas cards...
Please take these to the post office and in the meantime is another excerpt from:

I nodded. “It frightens me, and that's why I have to be sure. I'm going to make sure before I do this, if I do—oh sis—I hope I don't I have to, I hope it's just a lie. You would survive better than me in his world. You can adapt easily, I can't.”
Sybil gave me a fierce hug. Again, I was struck by how much she loved me, how concerned she was for me. She knew what I had just said was the truth, but she wouldn't try and dissuade me, just support me. That thought made me even sadder. If I did this, if I had to, I would miss her so much. Oh why hadn't we come together like this before, why?


Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...

Friday, December 20, 2013

(Day 3) Dear love of my life...

You have surpassed my meager expectations. Of course you may go out with your friends tonight, just return to me...

So in the meantime, here is another excerpt from the mermaid and the flier. Enjoy:


From the tense way Emilee sat, the way her lips trembled and her eyes danced, I knew I was the one who had to start. That as weird as it was, she was the one risking something greater than I. Shangri-La whispered to me at that moment, daring me to brave and seize the moment and I did. “I love you. I don't how it is with your people, the Meridians, but that means I would give up everything I am or will be—to be with you. That by myself, I am nothing...”

“But together, we are everything, life partners until we die,” she completed with a whisper. “Nothing else matters but being together...”


Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...

Thursday, December 19, 2013

(Day 4) Dear love of my life...

Don't give me that look, don't you dare sigh. This is your fault, and what I'm asking you is nothing compared to what you asked of me. I know this is a pre-Christmas get together with you parents, but it is so much more than that.

You asked and I agreed because I wouldn't refuse you a thing, because I love you so much. But this is not a simple get together, it's a fricken trial, It's my judgment day. Your mother thinks the sun rises and sets on you and she will never accept me, if I'm not perfect, if I'm not worthy of your greatness. If I screw this up, I will be forever damned in her eyes. I have to be perfect, worthy of you in her eyes.

This meal I'm preparing has to perfect, there can't be one thing wrong, right down to the napkins on the table, my love. So put on your coat and go to the store. I don't care if I forgot to write this on my list or you just missed it when I sent you the first time. It's not about that, my love.

It's about proving I am perfect and deserving of you to your mother, and yes; that can of peas and paprika spice are the final ingredients to ensure it. Yes, the traffic is a bitch and this might take an hour of your time, but if you don't go, I will be damned for eternity. And won't you? If your mother disapproves of me, what will you do? And I can't blame you for believing I am worthy because of her pronouncement, even if our love is truly that one kind that should supersede all of that...

Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...
(Day 5) Dear love of my life...

If you met me and had five days to decide whether to to throw away your planned life goals for a life with me, would you do it? To spend the rest of your live loving me, instead of finding a trophy wife to accent your chosen life, would you? What if choosing me meant making a mind blowing adjustment that destroyed your world so you had no choice but to live in mine? Would you do it?

I would, my love, because I believe that life comes down to those moments. When I found you, I knew I would give up anything to be with you. I don't care how much I suffer, what I have to give up to be with you. I would chose you even if meant surrendering my parent's affections, or out right risking my complete ostracizing from them. I love my parents and desperately need their approval of me, but I would gladly surrender that desperate need for you. Would you do the same for me?


That is the core idea of my newly released novel: Mermaid and the flier. Emilee is an alien who comes to earth to observe the sea life. She has been conditioned to hate humans because they are parasites intent on destroying the wonderful sea life of this Earth.

But when her eyes fall on Bobby, the hapless 'flier' seeking the land of the mythical 'Shangri-La', now stranded on an island/prison and sentenced by her people to die, she has five days to decide whether she truly loves him and is willing to throw everything to be with him forever in a happy-ever ending, as unlikely as that seems. His fate is literally in her hands, and her only ally to help free him is her sister who has is of dubious intentions. Because while Emilee is a mermaid of human lore, the only truth behind the Mermaid myth is that humans are the the ultimate Mermadian delicacy.


About me and the Mermaid and the Flier.
This is not the typical Walt Disney fare. This is not Ariel or any other Hans Gretel type of mermaid fantasy. This is based off the idea mermaids are aliens and come from a different planet (Think the aliens from the movie Abyss.) I need a theme song for it, but I guilty admit this song

was my inspiration which I played over and over. No beach boys or any song from 'The Blue Lagoon', please. This novel is hyper intensive YA.

Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

(Day 6) Dear love of my life...

Yes, we're going to the mall. Yes, I have all my gifts bought, I don't need a thing and my credit card is close to being maxed out, but I still want to go and do you know why?

Because I want to stroll though the mall, I want to feel the anticipation of Christmas coming, I want to share that all important buzz with the rest of shoppers. I want to feel Christmasy, I might even sit on Santa's lap and do you know what I'm going to ask him for?

I just want you, my darling, your love. I want to know that you rather spend time with me than do anything else. I want to feel your hand in mine announcing you have claimed me.

Do you have any idea what that means to me? I'm am so yours, there is no question in my heart, not even the slightest doubt in my mind, I am.


When you take my hand in yours as we stroll through the mall, you announce that you have claimed me. That I am the one and only. That you treasure me above all. I am your ultimate gift, and you are mine. Show them, that's why we came...

Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...
(Day 7) Dear love of my life...

Try to understand, I have worked retail for the last 8 years, every since I graduated college. The day after Thanksgiving, Christmas music begins to pipe in the loudspeakers, and it's constant, over and over. Repetition has not only closed my mind to it, but it makes me cringe and want to scream. And possibly do some projectile vomiting that rivals that girl in the Exorcist. No, I do find 'Grandma got ran over by a Reindeer' funny. No, I do not want to dress up like Santa Clause for you because of that stupid song. I don't care if Bon Jovi or Bruce Springsteen delivered an amazing rendition of it, it just makes me ill. That's what retail does, my love.

But light the candles and play this song. 
I still feel the holiday spirit and when you're with me, alone, just the two of us, I want to dance. You want me to dance with you, hell, I'll strip down to my underwear for you, my love. Just show me you understand, that you give a damn about me...love making of the amazing and super-ethereal kind is imminent. I love you, baby! Show me.

About me!
If you have ever worked retail, if you have had to surrender just one day of your Holidays to the almighty dollar, tell me here. There is no reason you should and I feel your pain.  Holidays are about families and friends, not about last minute sales. Tell me and I will respond, it's a dam, freaking shame. I feel for you and my post is for you.  You have my pain and love...

Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...




Sunday, December 15, 2013

(Day 8) Dear love of my life...

Go play you video games, you deserve the break. Go kill some stuff, aliens, zombies, whatever, with you friends...Christmas is about your friends. I understand that, and I made a special one...

Her name is Jacy Oliver, and her friendship and inspiration to me can not be measured with gold. She is a romance writer who stole my heart while making me envious, that green kind of envy you had pervading your persona that flashes in neon lights.

Fifteen months ago, I met this weirdo who now goes by the pen name Bryant James, aka Brian. Weird, but a wonderful guy and we began to talk about all the beliefs we had in writing, and how we wanted to create books that were different. Books that rocked the reader. Books that reflected our belief; shorter is better, it intensified the reading experience. (Sort of like a movie being written as a book.)

I'm the first to admit I'm weird gal, and I'd rather read paranormal romance over anything. (I even read fan fiction, couldn't help myself.) Twilight, yep, I loved it and hated it. Beautiful Creatures, the same. But this guy, Bryant James, wrote a freaking novel where he took the A-team and made them into into supernatural creatures; vampires, werwolves, pseudo Frankenstein monsters and sent them on a mission to help save the world. Pure guy stuff, like a video game come to life, but I was hooked by the perverse violence of it. Hey, when an explicit sex scene starts with the werewolf leader of this team biting into the vampire's shoulder like a T-bone steak, that can hook you. Besides horrifying you. We became fast friends, and agreed to create worlds that crossed a little, interconnecting them. He was a huge help for my Poison Heart series. Who knew that a broad sword can't be stabbed through someone's neck? But hacking it down to to the juncture of where the neck meets the shoulder works. He did. And surprisingly, he also did book covers, so a collaboration was born. We became partners in crime and remain so to this day.

But as I delved off into my true love, paranormal romance, he couldn't help me. I needed someone who understood things like the electric buzz myth of romance, sudden attraction so sharp a woman is mesmerized. The crazy thing out woman hormones cause us to do despite out logical resistance. None of which Brian could help with.

Fate, which has never been my best friend, delivered Jacy to me. Apparently we share an editor (A heinous but loveable bitch who wields a cattle prod to get the best out of us.) And that editor recommended Brian to Jacy as a cover artist. And apparently, Brian saw something in her and introduced us, which I am so grateful for. Our collaboration produced my best book. Mermaid and the flier would not be what is without her help. But most importantly she became the dear friend I needed, but didn't realize I needed. I love her to death and hope the two us continue to be friends. If she quit me, I don't what I would do.

But understand this. Jacy Oliver wrote on heck of a book. The kind that truly shares a piece of her soul in it. I have always said: I don't want to talk about myself, but I could spend every waking hour of my time talking about hers....Check it out....

Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...









Saturday, December 14, 2013

(Day 9) Dear love of my life...

I know you think candles are just for emergencies, for when the power goes off. But you are ever so wrong. Lighting a candle lights my soul on fire. Every wall I have constructed to protect me from real life crumbles down the moment you light one. A candle ignites the real me, the one I am so afraid to reveal to anyone but you. Your kisses knock me off my feet, my darling, but it is that candle light dancing in the air around us, licking the ceiling with it's glow that strips me to my vulnerable nakedness you find so endearing.

You may laugh at me, but I hope you understand that is essential truth. Do you not notice that when I write, I turn off the lights? That there is only a candle blazing next to my laptop as I write? I have never written a word without candlelight, no matter how much I tried. Nothing comes out until that candle is lit. When I write, I bare my soul. But I can't without the candle light.

But I will let you on this ultimate secret: Your love that shows through your kisses acts as that candle light. Kiss me like you mean it, like I am the most precious thing on earth. Your love is more powerful and inspiring then that candle light. Your love is what I crave. Love me, be my candle light. My soul will die if you don't...

About the real me...
I really can't write a word without candle light. I sit in front of my computer in my kitchen with only candle light and the screens illumination for light. It is the only time I feel secure, whole, worthy of being something greater than myself. It is the time I rush home from work to have...What I live for...

Make darn sure you check out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...


(Day 10) Dear love of my life

I understand this great truth about men, I do. It is one of those essential, instinctive things every woman must not only accept, but nurture. Of course, you know best, sweetheart, nobody needs to tell you what to do or how to do. You are nobody's schmuck. Trust me, I'm not trying to cull from your need to lead us down the right path, to prove to the world nobody is smarter than you. I would never...you're the smartest, baby, I tell everyone that.

But you see, there are times when you do need to listen to me. Even though I'm not smarter than you, I can provide some invaluable insight to help you retain your crown. Had you listened to me, you wouldn't be cursing right now as you wrestle with our Christmas tree on the floor, searching for the reason the lights don't work. I suggested to you it might not be wise to leave the lights on when you thrust the tree into the box for storage in the attic. It might be wise to strip them off the way you delight in stripping me and pack them separately.

Yes, I understand, if they worked when you took them down last year, they should work this year. But it's still better to be safe than sorry. That 15 minutes of work you congratulated yourself on avoiding last year, just cost you a couple of hours this year. So while you’re figuring that out I'm going to giveaway some books as my contentious debate with obstinate Jacy Oliver continues.

Hey readers we love you! Christmas is a time of giving so not only do Jacy Oliver and I want to giveaway some gift certificates to whoever helps end our little debate, we're just going to giveaway free books too.

Go here...enter this code for mine...
ZL58Y

And for Jacy Oliver: visit her Blog for a free download of her book:

And please...visit my other friends:





Thursday, December 12, 2013

(Day 11 of Christmas gifts for our readers... ) 

Dear love of my life,

I know you hate to go Christmas shopping and I know that I have girlfriends I can go with, but it's not the same. I want you with me, I want the warm serenity of you next to me as we brave the cold together. I want the loving you next to me, holding my hand as the snowflakes dance in the air against the warm glow of the Christmas lights as we waltz from one shop to another.

I want the loving you to hold me tight against that pervading coldness, to keep me warm and secure. Your opinion on the gifts I want to buy doesn't matter, it's that loving caress of your whispered suggestion into my ear I crave. My god, do you realize how that goes right to my heart, expanding it so much I would jump you right now if you asked? I may pretend to be shy, dignified as one must be be in public, but I really want you to steal a kiss, to slip your hands under my coat and grab my breasts.

I know you find it boring, but do you realize what this means to me? All I want is your time, your willingness to be with me. A pronunciation of your love for me. I have done the same for you, I have, my love. I hate video games, but because I love you so, I played with you, though I could barely understand what we were blasting into oblivion. I played because it meant something to you, and I wanted to understand what. And it meant spending time with you, doing what you loved. When you wanted a party to play these games with your friends, I was the perfect host, because I knew what it meant to you.

Do you wonder what I love? Do you remember? Other than you, I only have one passion, just like your video games. It means everything to me, but I would never force you to read my books, my darling. There is this secret me that wishes you would love me so much, you would pick up one of my books to discover the inner me and appreciate me for who I really am. That you would love me more, if that was possible. To learn those inner secrets about me that are too intimate to ever share. The ones you can't know without reading them, without reading me!

While my fantasy may never come true. The perfect guy who understands all of this: I am in the midst of of heated warfare with another author, I deeply admire and am completely envious of. Proving that duality of intentions and desire is possible. We are giving away Gift Certificates to help endeavor readers to help us end this debate: Who has the quintessential Quirky Romance. Please help us, if you will...

Here is the raging debate...
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/1563120-jacy-vs-emma-jean

Make darn sure you check them out my fellow conspirators. You never know who you might catch doing what...


Wednesday, December 11, 2013

A few good friends and I are having a 12 days till Christmas party where we will be posting everyday on our blogs as well some other nefarious and naughty things. Here is the link to their blogs and make sure you check them out. You never know who you might catch doing what...

My 12 days are themed to this. Telling my theoretical, significant other type, hunky object of lustful desire how to make a woman’s Christmas wonderful.

So here goes:

(Day 12) Dear love of my life,



I love the idea that I am your Christmas present, and you want to unwrap me. That you find me so desirable and you do truly set my loins on fire with insatiable desire. I really can't get enough of you, I can't. I tell all my friends how truly amazing you are in bed, you rock my world. You do!

But when you give me lingerie as my early Christmas gift, you put these slivers of doubts in my head. And I worry over them, trying to decipher what you're trying to tell me. They're laced with a deep hidden meaning that colors my thoughts and makes my heart hold it's breath in fearful anticipation.

After you have so thoughtfully discarded them on the floor, they whisper to me, my darling, in a silky voice that seems sort of nefarious in intentions. And what they say is nothing good. That you don't see our relationship the same as me...You are my everything, my reason to exist. Without you, I am nothing. But the underwear whispers such disturbing thoughts. That it's just my body you're in love with, not me. That if I didn't participate so enthusiastically in the bedroom, you might lose interest. That you might not really love me, but I'm so sure you do. You chased me so hard and when you caught me, you refused to surrender me.

The lingerie is really a gift to yourself and then I give you me to complete it. It shows you how much I really love you. Besides, I'm not looking for an actual physical, gift. What I want is your time...

Sincerely,
The love of your life...

And about the real me...
This is the one year anniversary of the one I who I thought was my significant other. This letter is not to you. It is for who I thought you was, but you regrettably proved false. But this is for you... I set down to eviscerate you in fiction, with a sword, actually. But as I learned, emotions can runaway and turn into a real life character. You were spared, unless you want to be a Vampire queen. LOL