Friday, August 28, 2015

Four Alarm Friday

Have you ever looked at someone, made eye contact and you two just clicked? It doesn't happen often, but when it does those sparks fly, Nothing matters but him or her?

That happened to me the other day. In Cracker Barrel not less. It was just a moment, but catching that person's eye and locking onto their gaze was--strange.

Let me see if I can do this justice. (Since it's not fiction it's hard for me to write).

The door swung outward just as I reached to open it. I stepped back to let the gentleman pass and headed inside the restaurant. Food aromas tickled my nose and I picked up on the smell of bacon and biscuits wafting from the kitchen. My mouth watered in anticipation.

Mommas pancake breakfast was calling my name, along with a huge cup of black coffee. I made a beeline for the host/hostess stand, hearing my husband chuckle as I left him in my dust.

I gave our name and began wandering the store as we had a ten minute wait. I walked around the candy aisle toward the clothes and paused to let a man pass.

He turned to acknowledge me and that's when it happened. Forest green eyes pierced mine, stopping me in my tracks. My pulse kicked up a notch and blood roared in my ears. The room fell away.

I'm not sure how long we stood there. It couldn't have been more than seconds, but all I could see were those eyes. He smiled and I'm sure I did the same. I had to have because my  heart stuttered and I couldn't breathe.

All too soon he moved on and I stood there, dazed. Slowly the room came into focus and the next thing I knew I was standing in the far corner browsing colorful crocheted shirts hanging on a rack in front of me.

I blinked a few times to clear my head. Inhaling deeply, I let out a slow breath, looking around to see if anyone was watching. Thank goodness no one saw me, and my husband was over by the DVD rack checking out movies.

What the heck just happened, was my first thought. Then guilt hit me that I could look at another man that way. I'm a happily married woman for cripes sake.

While I browsed the clothes, my mind raced back to the encounter. The guy wasn't drool worthy. He was nice looking, middle aged, about 5' 11" inches tall. His build was slightly husky and he wore a baseball cap. From the shape of his head, I could tell he had a receding hairline, he may have been bald.

But, there was something about those eyes. He'd looked into my soul and there was a connection. It still haunts me. I felt as if we'd known each other all our lives, but hadn't seen one another in a while, but could pick right back up where we left off.

Thank goodness I didn't see him again. It was one of those cliches, two ships passing in the night, destined to meet, but then go on our way.

Hmm. I guess truth is stranger than fiction.


Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Torrid Tuseday - Spontaneous

Are you spontaneous? While I enjoy picking up and taking short trips, around town or out of town on the spur of the moment, I'm actually not spontaneous.

As I thought about the topic for today's blog, I compared all the things I do, my routine, work, housework (few and far between here), and fixing meals, I'm in a rut.

In fact, I began noticing a devastating pattern. Here's an example. My guy comes home at lunch and the first thing out of his mouth, normally after saying hi and how was your morning, is, "show met that sexy body" or "come here and slap a kiss on me" or "wiggle that fine ass at me" or "lift your shirt and let me see your breasts." He's my inspiration in some of my sex scenes come from him, and 99.999% of the time my answer is "I'm busy."

In fact, I get miffed over being distracted. I shut down, glare at him to back off, but he just teases me more, something that doesn't bother me unless I'm cooking or working at the computer.

I've taken a look back at the times he's come up behind me, wrapped his arms around me just for a hug, a kiss, a nibble on my ear while I'm cooking, and I go off on him. (Not get off).

Or he'll back me into a corner and hold me hostage until I acknowledge him, give into his playfulness, and the entire time I'm huffing, not in a good way, and whining about him letting me finish my work.

Wow. I mean I was completely shocked. Don't get me wrong our love life is still great. I'm a very passionate woman. Always have been. It's a good thing my guy is just as hot because some ordinary man who'd rather watch sports than...grind groins wouldn't have been around long. But, I realized, in my mind at least, I schedule him in.

The more I realized I was not the spontaneous, fun loving person everyone thought I was. I became upset. Not so upset that I've done something drastic, like cut my hair short and dye it pink, (my son's suggestion), or ditch my Camry for a two set roadster, (my personal preference) or even put my husband, oh, I mean house up for sale and live out of an RV, (my oldest step-daughter's suggestion).

Now that I know, I really can't be spontaneous. I mean, I'm planning little activities to just be in the moment. So, I'm stuck in a rut until I can stop worrying about this tiny problem and then I'll do something off the wall.

I'll keep you up to date.

So what brought this upheaval in my life along? Jacy. I'm writing a scene where she's trying to let go and be spontaneous. And it's blowing. I mean she's so rigid, thinking if she has just a little fun, she'll be labeled wild, slut, etc. And she's worried Trace is only after a woman who is exactly the opposite of her.

Talk about a reality check.
Here's a scene. It's still a wip.

Enjoy!

“He can’t be serious.” Jacy gawped at the text. ‘u me swimin hole snday’. His promise to contact her the next day had been in the form of a text message, asking her to meet him at the cabin. He couldn’t be that lame, could he? She had shot off a ‘no’, adding ‘sign the contract’.
There wasn’t anything she could say or do to deter Trace from pursuing her. Every day for the last week she received some kind of text. ‘hey beautiful how about dinner’, ‘darlin’ talk 2 me’; he’d added, ‘i won’t bite, less u want me 2’, which had Jacy’s nipples turning to hard beads and her pussy growing wet and needy. She’d typed out a reply, other than her standard ‘sign the contract’ before she knew it. Thank goodness she’d had the foresight to delete the message. That one she felt it was safer to ignore than to reply.
In all fairness to Trace, other messages he’d asked about her. The sweetest one, ‘tll me bout ur drms, baby’, played through her head for days. Still, she couldn’t cave. Once they got to know one another, he’d find some flaw in her like Dale had and take off without a word.

Jacy knew that had been a fluke, but sometimes her insecurity where men were concerned reared its ugly head.








Friday, August 21, 2015

Where Did You Have Sex Last Night?

As I thought of writing this post, I was afraid it was too similar to Mondays. But then I knew my focus here would be on writers and the places our characters have sex, so I thought I'd continue on.

That title perked me up and I haven't even had coffee yet. And I can think of a few places in my home that I've had sex, other than the bedroom. So the title could be applied to my own, or your love life as well, but seriously how many places have your characters had sex?

There's the tried and true shower scene. It fits either masturbating alone, male and female, personally a man wanking off in the shower is just dang hot. Oh, sorry, got sidetracked there. Then the couple having sex. Let me just say, If I had sex in my shower, like our characters do, I'd need a one-hundred gallon hot water heater, and the fire alarm would go off when the bathroom door was opened for us to leave. Steamy!

There are furniture that fit having sex on. They're in the den, living room, library, etc. depending upon the luxury of the character's home. We put them on the stairs, which, trust me, is darn hard to have sex on. The surface, those treads cutting into your back, ouch.

And of course, if we add BDSM into the mix, that dungeon has the neatest furniture, not to mention another bed.

I've even read a book with a tantra chair. I did research on that item. The demo video was hot and quite enlightening. I'm still trying to figure out how to get my husband to make one instead of paying that high price.

We take our characters outside the home and our vehicles, porches, and outdoor furniture become props, more fodder to fuel our imaginations.

However, I've read few sex scenes in the kitchen. The fondling begins there, but they take it out before the deed is done. Is it a sanitary thing? Possibly. Mostly I believe it's one of the least places we find our characters in. (They never eat, we see them planning to eat, talking about eating, but they rarely do they ever make it to that room, always getting sidetracked with hot, sweaty, sex).

So, as I began chapter seven, they'd just finished dinner, Jacy is washing supper dishes and tells Trace she'd just be a few minutes relax in the living room. Trace sidles up behind her and presses against her backside. Whew, it's warming up in here.

Originally they were going to have a little foreplay and then head to the bedroom. They decided otherwise, well Trace did. He couldn't wait.

Here's my WIP excerpt:

“Dishes,” Jacy managed to finally say. Heat spiked, triggering need shooting it through every inch of her body. A long hiss escaped her mouth. An overloaded electrical outlet couldn’t shoot off any more sparks than her body was now.
“Right. Let’s get these done.” He nipped her shoulder. “I’ve plans for you.” Jacy whimpered a feeling of being alone and adrift rushed over her when he removed his hands from her body.
Dragging her mind back to the task at hand, she picked up the rag and hastily cleaned the utensils and glasses, passing them under running water she set them on a dishtowel to dry; all the while, Trace kept his body wrapped around her, making it hard to finish the job. She reached for plates, but stopped, her hand hovering just above the water. “What’re you…”
“Shh, baby. Do the dishes.” Why did that sound like he’d be doing her while she finished cleaning?
She jumped when his calloused fingers skimmed her thighs. Where was her dress? Glancing down, the hem was bunched in two large fists. Cool air blowing from the vent brushed over the heated apex of her legs as he lifted the dress higher.
The dual sensations had her mind racing. Her body was sending signals to her brain short-circuiting any coherent thought. A tickling along her hip and his command, “arms up,” snapped her out of her lust hazed fog.
“But…” was all she got out before he took the plates, placing them in the sink and her dress was pulled over her head. Mortified, she stood in front of the window, blinds open where everyone could see. Well, they could if her backyard wasn’t densely lined with large, thick anacua and oak trees.
Her arms instinctively rose; stupid traitorous body.
Image result for red dress boutique sundress“There.”
“There?” Jacy turned to ask him what he was talking about, but Trace’s, “no, keep your hands where they are,” as he placed them on the sink curling her fingers and thumb around the edge. She watched fascinated as he pushed them as far apart as her dress would allow.

“Wait…” It looked as if he’d twisted the dress, winding it until the straps became cuffs around her wrists. How had he done that? She tested her bonds, they held tight. “Trace? I’m not sure…” She felt exposed, vulnerable. 

Monday, August 17, 2015

Mid-heat Monday

You know I like it hot. From my stories, to the books I read, to the food I eat. But, today's heat is one I could do without. A fever. 

Yep, I've come down with either a sinus infection, cold or even worse. What's worse is I'm burning up one minute and chills the next. 

So, I spent my morning at the doctor's had blood taken and received a shot. Not for the infections, we're waiting until the results are back tomorrow to forge ahead with that, but I was asked when my last tetanus shot was? 

It was 1980. 

Do you remember your last one? 

I didn't know I needed one at least once every ten years. And adults are now carrying diseases like whooping cough that we're giving to children. So, if you're around kids on a regular basis, and it's been more than 10 years since you had a tetanus. Get that shot when you get the flu shot or sometime close. 

Now that's not my post for today. But, I thought I'd add it. Get the word out and keep our children healthy. 

Have you ever had sex in a public place? I'm not talking about acceptable places like a club, but somewhere where if you got caught it would embarrass you, those around you. Or maybe in a place where it could lead to the cops being called. 

I do most of the driving. My guy hates it. But that gives him an excuse to cop a feel. And he really likes to get hands on when we're passing a line of cars.  Talk about an adrenaline rush, heart pounding, blood roaring through your ears and the idea of getting caught. 

Tell me your most exposed place to have sex? Did you get caught? 

"What would you say if I suggested we had sex in a public place?"
"What?" Trace's head snapped back toward Jacy. "What the hell are you talking about? 
"Sex in a public place." She walked her fingers up his arm. His eyes dilated and she could tell he was fighting to keep from making it happen before they left the restaurant. 
"Jacy?" His sexy growl turned her on. 
"How 'bout your truck cowboy?" 
She shrieked playfully as he grabbed her arm, pulling her through the door. "We're going home and then I'm gonna strip you and tan your hide." 
"Why?" 
"No one." He stopped, turned, and towed her into his chest. "I mean no one," his eyes dipped to her lips, his hands caressing her body, "is gonna see you naked but me." 
Jacy pursed her lips. "Aww." 
"No back talk, baby. Your delectable body is for my eyes only." 
"Yours for mine, too." 
"Let's get you home. I've got plans for you." 




Friday, August 14, 2015

Four Alarm Friday

It seems the last few days all I've read or written have been sex scenes. Editing is a lot of fun, and a dream job, and most of the time I get to read a good story, fix final grammar errors and then I'm done.

Not this week. The stories I've edited would have firemen busy with flames so high there would be no recovery. My husband is on the receiving end at the close of the day when I have novels like the last few.

For some reason, those stories helped my writing on my own sex scene that much easier. Don't worry, I didn't use anyone else's ideas. I guess the mindset just helped me put the scene together that much faster.

Here's an excerpt:

Her body quivered and she whimpered her need, as his teeth nipped the soft spot behind her ear.
“Cold?”
“Unh.” The temperature in the room soared to sweltering, and Jacy was surprised steam wasn’t coming off the dishwater, fogging the window in front of them. She searched the sudsy water for the rag she’d dropped, trying not to think how she’d like to soap up Trace’s chest after hot, sweaty, monkey sex. “Gotcha,” she muttered lowly, then almost jumped out of her skin when Trace’s fingers entwined with hers again.
This time they concentrated on washing the rest of the dishes. Or so she thought.
He let her set the pace. Slow and languid, meticulously washing each tine of a fork, circling their thumbs on the inside of each spoon, sliding the cloth up and down the length of each knife.
“Baby, you’re killing me.” His words came out on a groan. Was he serious? She was putty in his hands? He was the one who had his body wrapped around hers. His hands sliding up and down, caressing her arms, his thumbs brushing her palms as she washed each item. What they’d begun earlier had nothing on this sensual washing of dishes mimicking sex.
“AhhhSssssss.” She let out a cry and hiss and nearly jumped out of her skin. “Wa…water…” she stuttered, wet dripping off his hands. “Oh, I liked this dress.” She looked down at her bodice.
“I do, too.” He tucked her into his body, her head beneath his chin. He cupped her breasts, his deft thumbs circled her nipples. “Such easy access to your delectable body.”
“Trace.” She didn’t mean to whine, but hands full of water plastered the front of her dress to every curve body like glue.
“Mmm?”
“Umm…uh…” Jacy closed her eyes, trying to force her body to settle. Fine tremors flowed through her like cracks in a glass ready to shatter. She gasped and started to protest at the trail of water his hand made up her arm. What was the use, she was already wet.
“Mmm.” He sank his face in the locks of her hair, inhaling deeply.
“You smell delicious, baby, like strawberries.”

The back of his knuckles brushed the side of her breasts. Jacy’s breath caught in her throat. The cooling water had her nipples beading to hard points. His fingers traced a wet trail across her chest while his thumbs circled her nipples. 


Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Torrid Tuesday

One of the hardest things for me to write is a love scene. Now, I can write kissing scenes, and romance and bring the reader right to the edge easily, but it's the explicit play by play that gets me.

So, I write them last. Oh, I set them up. Like below. Jacy and Trace have just finished supper and they're washing dishes. I know he's going to slip her dress over her head, twist it a little and bind her wrists, making her hold on to the counter while he enjoys her.

He's still fully dressed, making Jacy a little uncomfortable, but she forgets all about it when he begins to dribble water over her breasts, blowing on them to make her nipples pucker and reaching between her hot, wet thighs to blow her apart.

I can write each physical move more easily than I can get their emotions. So, for the next few weeks, we're taking this chapter, this love scene a few paragraphs at a time.

I'll be writing it as we go along. Analyzing it, changing words, positions, and definitely emotions.

Enjoy.

“This won’t take a minute.” Jacy fought the threatening shiver coursing through her as Trace’s arm brushed her bare shoulder, dropping utensils into the warm, sudsy water. She stiffened to stop herself from rubbing against him as she seemed to want to these days.
Inclining her head, toward the doorway on her left, she said, “Why don’t you pour us the rest of the wine or you might want beer.” Jacy’s eyes flicked toward the fridge, “and take them to the living room. I’ll be right out.”
Thinking only of having a few minutes to herself to gather her scattered thoughts and wayward body under control, a nearly impossible feat when Trace was near, Jacy picked up the dishrag and ran it along the inside the glass. Suddenly his large body settled behind her. She yelped, jumping at the intimate contact.
“Relax darlin’, let me help you get these cleaned up.” His voice, a low rumbling vibration in her upper back, dropped to the pit of her stomach, churning more butterflies, then continued to the sweet spot of her sex. She’d squelched her constant need for him quite successfully all night up until the moment he pressed his back into hers.
“It’s the least I can do since you went to all that trouble of cookin’ for me.” Each word sent soft, warm breath floating across her ear, tantalizing her senses and causing goose bumps to rise along her arms. One would’ve thought he was inviting her to partake in deliciously naughty sex instead of boring housework?
It was no wonder, she couldn’t help but lean into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Still, it would be hard pressed to tell she’d actually relaxed, even a little, for the rampant beat of her heart knocking against her ribs and shallow breaths.
“Don’t stop, baby.” Stop what? She wanted to ask, washing dishes, or, she’d been mortified to realize, arching into him like a cat in heat?
His five o’clock shadow rubbed the column of her throat, finally eliciting the tremors she’d fought hard to keep under control. He nipped her exposed shoulder before kissing away the sting he’d caused.
She lifted onto her toes, pressing into his mouth, wanting more. The thrill that he might leave marks, sealing the fact he’d claimed her with love bites filled Jacy’s mind. What was she thinking? She was too practical for something so primitive. But she found herself leaning further into Trace’s chest to keep from folding to the floor in a puddle. Well, that was what she told herself. But, she knew it was to relish in this closeness that was becoming so much harder to ignore each time she saw him.

No, no, no. No pressing into Trace Blackwell no matter how right it feels. “Yes.” The word was one long sigh as his tongue traced the shell of her ear. More. Did she voice that or just feel it with her entire being. 

Monday, August 10, 2015

Racy Monday

As I'm writing this post, I'm feeling anything but racy, and the phrase, morning people be damned, is running through my head. And, I'm home alone. 

Maybe it's the diet I'm on. I told hubby I'd lose thirty pounds. Now this is after losing about fifty a few years ago, but I'd still had a few to go. It's not just for him.Visions of sexy lingerie and short, flirty skirts in high heels keep popping in my head, so I'm sticking with it. 

I'm blaming lack of energy on no coffee. I've replaced it with greens, spirulina and cacao. I get energy, but not that clear mind that comes with the rich aroma wafting from the kitchen or drinking a cup of coffee in the morning. 

Anyway, you don't want to hear about my woes, so I'll get to the post. Have you ever been on a roll? You know hot, sizzling, where you can do no wrong? The kind of day where you get all your work finished, i.e. met your word count in record time, completed house chores, supper was a breeze and with little or no clean up, etc.? Last Thursday was that day for me. 

This scene just came together. It was intense...
Image result for rook cardsIn the version we're playing each player receives 9 cards and there are six in the middle. There are 10 cards of each color, plus the red one, which is a trump card and the rook. The red one is boss and rook is below it. I don't have either one of them, but I know I have the makings of six trump cards in my hand. There are 5 more cards not showing in the kitty, so I'm hoping there's one more. Even if there isn't, I know I can take 4 of the six hands, and who knows, my partner may have some of the cards to help me. So, I bid and win it. My plan all along.
“What are you talking about?” Jacy had a sinking feeling in her gut he remembered something she didn’t.
He leaned in, pinning her against him and the car. A sharp intake of breath filled her nostrils with his manly scent. Her nipples pebbled and wet heat flooded her panties. “Ropes, red lace boy short panties, and you on your…”
“Oh my God, I didn’t?” Her hands flew to her cheeks that she knew were stained with embarrassment, recalling their play ending with her hog-tied, him taking pictures with his phone. 
“Yep, darlin’, you did. And I for one can’t wait to feel your mouth wrapped around my cock again.” He nipped at her lower lip and Jacy instinctively opened to him. ...  I'll reveal more of this scene later.  

And the rest of the day went just as well. One of the craziest things happened later that night. We're playing cards with friends. In our neck of the woods we love to play Rook.  In this instance our friend Susan is a newbie. So we've been getting together a couple of times a month to teach her in preparation for playing our tournament that happens every February. She's coming along 
slowly, but surely and that's okay. We're just out to enjoy each other's company while she learns. 

It's guys against gals and we've got her smack downs pat. John, Susan's husband is the world's best smacktalker I've met. Poor guy was pretty silent that night. Anyway, since she isn't well versed in the game, she and I have been in the loser's bracket every time. We've won hands here and there, but not an entire game. So, we're playing, the cards are not in my favor at all. Susan's husband, John is getting bad hand after bad ones and so basically it's Susan playing against my husband. 

We're still in teaching mode so we're discussing our cards, we know where the Rook and red one is and just having a blast. We're on a new game and the cards have been dealt and I pick mine up and I see I have five of one color, green. The kitty, the cards laid out in the middle, has the green 14 showing. The other cards in my hand are small, and of two colors, but I forget all about them. My focus is on the green cards.

I quickly tuck the green 14 into my hand and pick up the 2nd card. It's a green 12. My eyes widen. I'm getting excited. The next card from the middle is the green 13. I'm floored. I know my mouth dropped. I now have 8 trump cards in my hand. I discard the next two cards from the kitty and then pull up the last one. It's the green 5. I add it to my hand, discard my off colors, check to make sure I've discarded 6 cards. I'm so shocked by now, I'm not sure what I have. When I pick up my hand,fan out the cards, all I see is green. I'm speechless.

Now a good hand usually has 5 trump cards, but I have 9. I looked
up the odds, but couldn't find them. I've been playing rook for twenty-something years and I've never seen a hand like that. Our friend, David, who's a huge competitor in our tournaments, and somewhat of a math genius, said he'd never heard of anyone having a hand like that.

Here's the kicker, it's in two parts. 1. I don't have the rook or red one. So I could lose those points. But remember, I said we're teaching Susan how to play. We've been talking across the table, well all of us have. 2. She has the rook and red one. We don't have to play this hand at all. Just lay down our cards. When they're all revealed, not only does she have the rook and red one, she has the only other trump card I don't, the green 7. Those suckers, I mean husbands, didn't have one trump card between them. 

Not only did we finally win our first game against the guys, we' smoked them with that hand. 

This may not be your idea racy, and of course it doesn't have a lot to do with writing, but I couldn't resist sharing something personal with my friends and fans. 

Torrid Tuesday now that's... well, you'll just have to tune in tomorrow, won't you? 

Caio. 

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Scorching Hot Saturday

Can it get any hotter? Maybe so, but today's post has more steam than I normally have.
Not that I'm complaining. But, it's like it's raining men. Men with nice...well...pipes, if you know what I mean.

This isn't my style. I like to write my own posts, let everyone know what's going on in the sizzling world of erotic romance writing. Ha, it's long hours at the computer, shoulder and neck aches, carpal tunnel, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

But, when I began looking at my own pics, yes, purchased to use for book covers, I noticed a trend. All my guys have dark hair. If their hair is lighter, the pic is usually black and white, so no one could tell.

I'm seeing a trend here. I like guys with dark hair and light eyes. They just melt my insides like an ice cream cone on a sweltering day. So, I began looking for sexy guys with light brown hair, golden or even auburn hair. I have to say, the majority of the world agrees with me because the pics are few and far between.

I headed over to Pinterest and this caught my attention. And if you thought some of my posts were a little racy, hold onto your...well, you'll just have to see it to believe it.

These guys are steamy, I mean, dreamy, and you're sure to find some eye candy you'll drool over.

Have a great weekend on me!

21 most important celebrity bulges of all time

The Ryan Gosling | The 21 Most Important Celebrity Bulges Of All Time

Friday, August 7, 2015

Four Alarm Friday

Moderate is the word for the climate outside. A "cold" front came through and we're experiencing only very warm weather, upper 80's instead of the scorching heat we've had all week.

But thing haven't cooled down inside. Hubby is off for a long weekend, we're tearing ourselves out of bed and heading out for swim this afternoon, (sadly no skinny dipping the pool belongs to my parents), but this morning you can see what I've been up to.

Looking for book cover models.

Now, I must say, Jimmy Thomas is my all time favorite cover model. He gets 7 blazes on a scale of 1-5, 5 being best. He's that delectable. This pic is especially nice, but he just doesn't fit with the premise of my story.

Let me just say, I am a stickler for accuracy, so my cover has to reflect the main theme of the book. My guy has light brown hair, tall and more lanky, like swimmer or runner than the nice bulk Jimmy has. Maybe my third book with have a Jimmy look alike.

Oh well, we can all dream about him anyway. Couldn't resist showing you the sensual side of him. Oh, to be that pillow!

But I believe the third pic will do nicely for cover model, or maybe even the fourth. So many guys to choose from and there's just one of me. I'm a lucky gal.

Country Boys | BERRY hot men: Country boys (26 photos) » a-country-boys-13

 sexy shirtless cowboy on a ranch in New Mexico

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Steaming Thursday

I'm on fire today. Wrote a sweltering sex scene yesterday, hubby is still recovering from it, ha. And he may not get out of bed for the weekend, he has a long weekend off.

Well, anyhow, enough about our flaming passion between the sheets. Speaking of torrid tales, there's a scene where Jax is searing steaks on the grill and Tam has arrived. He's yet to see her.

When he turns he sees the sultry vixen, in a short, flirty, strapless sundress. What ensues is some throat parching, fun feeding (each other) with these delectable grilled jalapeno poppers.

It's 3 easy ingredients:
Bacon
Cream Cheese
Jalapenos.

Slice jalapenos in half, remove innards.
Cut a piece of cream cheese stuff it into the jalapeno
Wrap a half slice of bacon around the pepper and cheese.
Keep these refrigerated until they're ready to go on the grill.
Place on hot grill, turning until bacon is crisp. Be careful to not leave the jalapeno cheese side down for long periods of time. Cheese will melt and run out.

Note: I didn't give measurements because you can make more or less depending upon your situation. If it's just the two of you, like Jax and Tam or me and my hubby then 4 jalapenos, 4 pieces of bacon and 8 ounces of cream cheese, cut into 8 pieces.



Bacon Wrapped Jalapenos: We bake them in the oven instead of grilling (which would be awesome too). I also use turkey bacon and low-fat cream cheese sometimes for a healthier option - THEY ARE SO GOOD THEY'RE ADDICTIVE

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Feverish Wednesday

It's another hot day here in the south, temperatures are soaring into the upper 90's, but to be honest I wouldn't have it any other way. I like the heat.

Yes, I work inside under a fain with the air conditioner going, but I can still feel oven-like air surrounding the house. Give me a warm day over a cold one any time.

While I like it hot, sometimes the heat isn't as fun as I want it to be.

Jacy and Trace are having problems. Maybe they'll work it out soon, but here's an excerpt of trouble in paradise.

“I’m not that guy, Jacy.”
“What guy?” What was he talking about? He was the one who’d blackmailed her. The one who required she see him so she wouldn’t lose her job. The kind who liked drunk Jacy and wanted to get to know her better. That last one still stung.
“The guy you met our first night together.” He hoped he could make this right. “I was. I’d had a bad day in court, a case was postponed again, but that didn’t give me license to take advantage of you…”  
“You didn’t.”
“Then why all drinking?”
Jacy ignored the fact she enjoyed being with Trace. It was hard to think. Once again, she’d eaten little and drank much. She couldn’t tell him she needed it just in case he planned to have sex with her.
Yeah. That would go over well. Thinking she needed bolstering for him to touch her when it was she that had the problem. And now, she was adding alcoholic to her long list of deficiencies. Something that she would have to change once they weren’t seeing each other. But for now, she needed the fortification.
“I get it. You need it to put up with me.”
“No.” She blurted out before she thought.
“Then what, Jacy, because that’s sure what it looks like to me.”
It was the only way he’d like her. Trace was the kind of guy she could fall for and hard. He was funny. He’d made her laugh and had laughed at himself as well. He took care of his family, worked alongside them to make sure the family business flourished. He was devilishly good looking, but not conceited. What was there not to like?
 “Tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can fix it.” Come to think of it how would she know? She’d been nervous, then kept up a steady sip of alcohol that he wasn’t sure she’d even heard a word he said or remembered the questions he asked about her life and dreams.
“There’s nothing you can do.”
His sharp intake of breath made her realize he’d misunderstood her. She reached out a hand, but he stood.
“Jacy.” Scrubbing his hand down his face, he moved away before he did something he’d never thought of before. Grabbing her and kissing her until he forced her to see the truth, to see him.

“I… This was a mistake. I wanted to get to know you better, and from what I remembered I thought you might too. Obviously, I was wrong.” 

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Torrid Tuesday

You know I like just about anything hot. Mainly romance, blazing hot. Hahaha.

Anyway today, I took time off from writing to do something else hot. Nope, not that. Hubby is at work.

I made jalapeno pepper jelly. Most of the recipes call for a bell pepper base and then a few jalapenos. I don't care for that. So, I skip the bell pepper base and just add more jalapenos. The taste is just as good, and there's a little more heat.

Jalapeno Pepper Jelly Recipe

6 Jalapenos
3 cups sugar
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar.

Puree peppers, I leave some chunks, pour into a non-aluminum pot, add sugar and vinegar. Cook over medium-high heat until boiling. Boil for 3 minutes.

1 pouch. that's half of a 6 oz box of Certo Pectin, or any other liquid pectin.
1 Tablespoon fresh lime juice
Add to boiling mixture heat until boiling again and boil for 1 more minute.

Skim off foam.
Pour into half pint jars. Refrigerate when cool.

Makes 3 half pint jars.

Note: I normally make 6 batches at a time with no problem.
Serve over crackers and cream cheese.

Super Easy Hot Pepper Jelly






Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Labor Leather Time Period: 1500 - 1600 Leather needs to be conditioned to keep soft and pliable aka lots and lots of practice in bed.