I have been looking to modernize and professionalize my sad little Angelfire free website, but just couldn't afford the website redesign by a real pro, nor could I afford the monthly update fees they wanted to charge me. So I was crying in my beer, until one of my friends suggested that I try an inexpensive web hosting site that was professional looking, and easy to keep up.
I followed her advice. I got one of the wix sites like she has, and she kindly got me started. I spent many more hours today working on it...perfecting it...and finally got it to where I think I can actually do it without a babysitter. LOL! (Now, if I could just learn to spell...)
I paid a professional to fix me up with some logos and a banner, and now it actually appears to be a real professional website. Simple, clean, and something I can be proud of. Of course, I will keep my Angelfire site, and link to it to show reviews and stuff.
So can you trot on over to my new site and let me know what you think?
I want to thank my cover goddess, Syneca, for all her tireless efforts to help me out here. If not for you, I would still be crying in my beer,,,and that would be a terrible waste of a good Corona.
“Hey, Karen! I’m at the airport. Did you arrange for a ride?” Fran sidestepped a gaggle of sniffling kids with a frazzled mother trying to herd them along to the baggage pickups, her nose wrinkling.
God, how I hate airports! Hundreds of people jammed together like sheep—people who didn’t know how to cover their mouths when they coughed jostling with those begging for nickels and quarters for this charity or that. She gave a firm shake of her head and ignored the bowl a young person wearing an orange robe shoved under her nose.
“Sorry, I have no change on me,” she lied.
“Bless you, sister.” The young man smiled beatifically and she winced at her own lack of resolve as she hesitated and switched her roll-along handle to her left hand. She heaved a long-suffering sigh and used her free hand to fish a small fistful of change from the bottom of her jacket pocket, dumping it into and over the sides of the bowl.
“Thank you very much!” The youth grinned.
“Yeah…sure…” She gritted her teeth as she managed to switch her roll-along case to her right hand again, still juggling her cell phone on her shoulder.
She’d missed everything that Karen was saying and all she caught was, “…should be there by now. Probably waiting by the baggage pickup for your flight…”
She barely screeched to a halt before tripping over a child who’d bent over to pick up one of the dimes she’d scattered. She almost dropped the phone and just caught it, only to find that she’d disconnected the damn call during her juggling act.
For Pete’s sake! Just get me out of here, Lord!
Unfortunately, not a single saint or deity was paying her the slightest attention.
With a groan of disgust she craned her neck around the area, looking for the signs that would lead her out of this zoo…and collided painfully hard with a solid body standing directly in her path.
“Oh God! I’m so sorry!” she gasped as she found herself suspended above the floor by the grace of God and one hell of a powerful arm wrapped firmly around her waist. Her roll-along overnight case dangled precariously from her fingertips and she clutched her shoulder bag with her laptop in a death grip while attempting vainly to get her slippery, leather-soled shoes back where they belonged—under her.
Can anything else possibly go wrong?
“Here…let me take that bag so you can get your balance, Franny.” The far-too-familiar voice came from the direction of the big, hard body holding onto hers.
Her head snapped up so fast that her forehead met his dimpled chin with a painful crack. “Ouch!” she gasped, wincing at the blow, then instantly forgetting the pain as her mouth fell open and her eyes widened in horror.
“Damn, Gerrard, but you have a hard head!” she snapped to cover the rush of heat that zipped from her belly to her suddenly wet core.
Oh. My. God! What the hell is Jack Gerrard doing here? He can’t be…my ride?
Without a word he levered her back to an upright position, then rubbed his chin gingerly with his free hand. “You still try to destroy all the men who want to pick you up?”
Fran realized numbly that he hadn’t relinquished his death grip on her waist and their hips seemed to be fused from navel to knee. Dear God! How many times had she dreamed about being in this exact position with him? His minty breath warmed her forehead despite her lanky height, and for the first time in years she felt small and weak as he easily shifted her and maintained his firm grip while she struggled to regain control of her shoulder bag, finally shifting it to his waiting hand.
“I…I didn’t mean to… I mean…” Her forehead throbbed from the contact with his rock-hard chin.
Blue eyes pinned her as his lips curved into that sexy, patented Jack Gerrard smile and memories flooded back over her from so many years ago. She blinked furiously to stop the ridiculous flow of tears as that smile changed to a frown of worry.
“You okay, Franny? Hell, did I hurt you, honey?”
Did he just call me “honey”?
Her knees almost gave out. She should be feeling outrage at the term of affection but she couldn’t quite muster that particular feeling. Instead she started blubbering like a total fool. She shook her head and slapped her hand over her quivering mouth, too humiliated by this absurd rush of overwhelming emotion to say a word. Her wide eyes took in every plane and curve of his handsome face. He hadn’t changed one bit in ten years.
In fact he’s even more gorgeous than I remembered him.
More handsome than his pictures in the magazines.
Oh God! And he was gathering her closer, patting her back and pressing her face gently into his shoulder in the most delicious, protective way. She couldn’t possibly stop the flood of tears.
She sobbed helplessly, wetting his leather jacket and pressing her forehead into the hollow between his strong throat and his shoulder, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. People instantly crowded around and she felt like burrowing into his chest for protection.
NOTE: No part of this excerpt may be used, copied, or disseminated in any manner without the express permission of the copyright holder.
He ached to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he figured that might result in a snapping right hook to his jaw. But even that would have been preferable to watching her sitting there, shaking like a leaf in a high wind, close to tears. He hunkered down so that they were on eye level. God, but he wanted to do exactly what Aunt Molly had demanded of him. He just didn’t quite know how to do it.
“Look…I don’t want you to have to worry about all this. I’ll take care of the rest of Frank’s debts and his funeral. If you want to stay on here, the place is still yours.” He swallowed hard. “I’m damn sorry you didn’t know the whole story before.”
Oh God. How humiliating. Does he think I want his pity? She shook her head and stared into his dark eyes with a little strangled sob and then she bolted. She had no idea where to run. She just wanted to get away from him and the reality of this hopeless situation.
Get me the hell out of here!
He rose to his feet and reached for her arm but she dodged him, slamming out the front door and breaking into a stumbling run as blinding tears made it hard to see the old pickup she ran toward.
He shouted, but she ignored him, running to the truck and tugging on the door handle. Damn! Of all the times to start locking the stupid thing! She ran her hands over her empty pockets. The keys most likely were in the dust back by the feedlots where that damn gelding had dumped her.
Hearing his boots crunching on the gravel drive, she whirled and fled toward the barn, intending to lock the door behind her and tell him to just go away and let her decide what to do next. She felt stupid enough for panicking! But before she even got to the gate of the corral, strong arms caught her and she went totally ballistic, kicking his shins and shoving at his confining arms as he tugged her into his embrace.
“Let me go, damn you! I hate you! I hate you!” Shit, Jack—you’re such a liar! She knew at that moment she wanted nothing more than to turn in his arms and let him protect her. But that damn Irish pride of hers refused to cooperate. So instead, she turned in his arms and pounded at his chest and ribs as he drew her into the solid shelter of his body and cradled her against him with amazing gentleness, considering how she was smacking and punching him.
Damn him! Couldn’t he just let me stew and steam and cry?
She tried to head-butt him, but he wrapped one arm around her waist and caught the back of her head, pressing her cheek into his shirt as she struggled and bawled like a baby.
The storm had been building for a while and now she let it out. Loss, pain and fear for the future had all ganged up on her and now they exploded out of her.
Hold me, Lance. God, don’t let go of me now.
When it had blown itself out, she burrowed her wet face into the curve of his shoulder and drenched the front of his shirt, sobbing uncontrollably as her arms slid tightly around his body.
God, but it feels good to be in his arms
It felt wonderful to be pressed to his warm, solid body. His soft murmurs were unintelligible to her as she let out all the pain and fear of her entire life, her back against the corral gate and her body plastered to his as he held her and rocked her in a way that was oddly soothing. His big hands smoothed over her back and brushed her shoulders as she wept.
When she had no tears left, she simply surrendered her weight to him and clung with all her strength, inhaling the hot, delicious masculine scent that had always left her more than just a bit shaky. Her face was probably streaked with dust and tears, undoubtedly making her look like a mud pie. She just held him tight, afraid that if she let go, he would push her away and go back to being the Lance who had made her feel about three years old when she’d told him that she loved him, all those lonely years ago.
She didn’t want him to see her face. Didn’t want him to get a good look at her rumpled, dirty shirt and jeans. Didn’t want him to let go.
Uncertainly Yours is a story about two people who parted under tense circumstances, and who find themselves thrown together under even more intense circumstances. If, as the Sioux believe, Life is one big circle, perhaps this is their chance to redeem the past...
No part of the above excerpt may be reprinted, repeated, or quoted without written consent of the copyright holder.
(heart logo stolen/borrowed/sneaked away from RB4Us)
I am starting out the year 2014 by offering a giveaway every month on my Facebook Fan Page for those who have "liked" my page there. (Link to that page is in the right hand bar).Doing giveaways on my blog has very few entrants, so I use FB with my 4,000+ "friends" and 660+ Fans) for my main stage.
I have been running a comment contest over there to win a SWAG package and one e-book, and it will end on Valentines Day at midnight, so if you have not yet "liked" my fan page and left your comment, hurry, because time is running out!
Chellie moved methodically around the small space. The stove was cold, but a half-full coffeepot sat on the stovetop extension, which was supported by a metal leg of sorts. The coffee smelled strong but not as if it’d been there for months. It looked as if someone had very recently been in the cabin.
Or is living here.
Was there another cabin out here besides the one she’d rented? Obviously this one was already occupied.
Her heart tripped nervously. She swallowed the tightness in her throat as she moved across the room to the old chest of drawers that stood against the far wall, a foot or so from the tiny “bed”. Tugging open one of the drawers, she groaned at the sight of men’s jeans, a couple of folded flannel shirts, a couple of T-shirts, socks and underwear. She lifted a pair of soft, well-worn cotton boxer briefs between thumb and forefinger and fought not to throw a tantrum. This place was most definitely occupied. “I fucking don’t believe this! What more can possibly go wrong today?” she said to no one in particular.
A tingling sensation ran along her spine.
A low chuckle behind her made her stiffen.
“Usually complete strangers don’t just walk in and start checking out my skivvies…but you, I don’t mind.” The rough, deep voice came from the direction of the open door at her back and she jerked around with a startled cry to face the intruder.
Um…looks like I’m the intruder…
The words “tall, dark and incredibly rugged” flashed through her mind as she nearly tripped backward onto the narrow bed and barely saved herself from further humiliation by staggering sideways before regaining her balance. Girl, you are in deep shit…
NOTE: This is an X-rated, adult, over age 18 and not for the faint hearted excerpt...if you are easily shocked, STOP here.
Holy shit!Her mind blanked as she wondered if she had
been far drunker than she had thought…because her amazing “dildo” had suddenly
become—a very real—very muscular—very hot
She instinctively wrapped her legs around his pulsing body,
and closed her eyes in ecstasy. As he began to drive his deliciously hard cock
in and out while he sucked her nipple deep into his hungry mouth, she wasn't
sure whether she should scream and shove him off, or just lie back and enjoy.
She chose the second option. Two or four ales at her party had definitely
loosened her up a bit. Kewl. If this
was a hallucination, she hoped she had a dozen more just like it before
Her body tightened and clenched around him as her first
male-assisted orgasm in over six years shattered her into a billion shards of
white hot sensation. Unable to stifle a cry of pure pleasure, she stared,
transfixed, as the naked, marvelously built hunk that owned that sinfully
realistic cock lifted his head and smiled wickedly at her with golden cat’s
eyes, giving her a deep, slow thrust as he watched her flushed face.
“Your wish is my command, Mistress—your wildest fantasies
will be given you this night.”
She couldn’t help but stare dumbly. He was the most
gorgeous, delectable, hottest man she’d ever seen, bar none. He was returning
her avid stare as if he thought her the most marvelous thing on Earth.
Obviously this was a hallucination brought on by too much ale and that hot,
Who was she to question a marvelous wet dream when it was
slowly flexing its ass to continue that totally unreal feeling of being filled
and overwhelmed by an enormous, decadent cock? And that deep, growly voice? OMG! That alone almost brought her to
another screaming orgasm.
“Oh my God!” she
gasped as she found her voice and repeated her thought. She felt that hot,
thick cock spear into her a few more times and her sex starved body went up in
flames, another splintering orgasm shredding through her like a hot knife
through fresh creamy butter. She clamped him inside her pussy as she arched and
screamed out some garbled cry of mindless pleasure. He kept moving with a
measured, delicious rhythm that made her want to keep him deep inside her body
for the rest of her life.
Her arms wound around shoulders so heavily muscled, she knew
this was a dream. Nobody who looked like him would follow her home from a pub
and fuck her silly…
This was one I changed the name on just before publication. I seriously doubted that I wanted to print it as "Genie in the Dildo"! I usually self-publish short ones that my publisher rejected because of length, etc.This one is definitely a tongue-in-cheek tale.
I had to laugh when I first wrote this...it was back in 1988, and it was just a bit of fun because I'd just watched an old episode of "I Dream of Jeanie", and got this weird urge to jot down a few lines about a hot genie who popped out of a sex toy.
A few years later I was watching Disney's Alladdin, and pulled the dog-eared pages of the story back out of the big old box under the bed. I played with it a bit more...added about twenty pages, and then shook my head and tossed it back into the box.
After I started writing for my publisher, I dug it out again and edited. Sent it to my editor, who laughed and sent it back. "Way too short!" And the good old standby, "Not enough sex in this short story."
So...I tweaked it and subbed it again, for another reject. Well, twice Is enough...so I REALLY tweaked it and self pubbed it. I put it on Amazon for $1.49, downloaded a copy to my Kindle for PC, and re-read it. In a couple of weeks, I will lower the price to 99 cents for Valentines Day.
Oddly enough, thousands of authors are putting entire sets of books up on Amazon for 99 cents...I have bought a few. Sigh. I refuse to sell a piece of work that took 25 years to complete for 49 cents. LOL!
Besides, when I have all 8 of my Holiday Wishes Tales out, I will make a box set of them and sell them so you can get them all for under $4.00...but you'll be waiting awhile. It only took me 18 months to get the second one out. :P
Even though it has nothing at all to do with my post...LOL! I thought I would ask everyone to go check out my interview over at RB4Us blog today, because I am giving away some stuff. Don't want anyone to miss out!