My exhausted author put in long hours working on her website over the holiday. It is looking delightfully sexy and reader friendly as well. So go check it out and see what kind of goodies she has on display....
Monday, November 29, 2010
My exhausted author put in long hours working on her website over the holiday. It is looking delightfully sexy and reader friendly as well. So go check it out and see what kind of goodies she has on display....
Friday, November 26, 2010
The older I become, the more human thinking and rationalizing seems to escape me.
Let’s take Thanksgiving for example.
Yesterday was a day of festivities - a day for sharing one of the most elaborate meals of the year with family and friends. The one day of the year where most people give themselves permission to eat themselves into a coma. I have personally seen this so do not try to deny it. Thanksgiving for all accounts is a day of eating, rest, relaxation, napping and football and yet, the very next day is a day of mayhem and hysteria.
I do not understand the concept behind this Black Friday. It is beyond my reasoning to comprehend why people would literally camp out in front of a store to purchase only 1 of 3 laptops, or televisions when the very corporations have admitted to swindling the public with the old “bait and switch” deals.
On the up side to this human insanity, I will confess that I am not complaining. Following the traditions of overstuffing oneself, I, too, enjoyed a rather nice, hearty, human “Thanksgiving” myself. If you know what I mean.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
This was all before you, and if I would’ve known I’d like to think I could have handled all of this differently. He was a memory, a beautiful dream of what could have been. Then I looked across the room, my mind a mixture of torture and exhaustion. There he was. How could it be that he was standing there?
I can still remember the words as they easily slid from your lips. “There is someone I want you to meet…this is my brother Eric.”
My entire body turned to stone and yet your eyes continued to gaze at me with such adoration. How could I have let this go on? Why didn’t I just walk away from the both of you when I had the chance?
I panicked. I admit it. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t just blurt it out. “You’re the man I had a night with and can’t forget. Oh by the way nice to meet you...” It was easier to hide it. Bury it and hope you never found out.
That’s not what happened though is it? I’m sorry I am weak. I am sorry I just…I couldn’t walk away. I don’t know why. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing! Everything is so out of control. I don’t know which way is up. I can’t get my bearings and I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I wonder what my friend Charlie would say? Maybe someday I can ask you.
I love you Charlie, I always will, as a wonderful friend. I have tried to tell you so many times but everything is mashed together. We’re all spinning, reacting and preparing for the next disaster. I am so sorry for all of this, for being a self centered loathsome creature. You have been so good to me, I never wanted to hurt you.
You deserve to know the truth. So how do I tell you the truth? How do I face you after all of the horrid things I’ve done.? I guess that is my punishment. This is all my fault and I need to take the blame and make it right some how.
Charlie, I am so sorry but I’m in love with your brother…
Author Amy Romine writing as Rebecca Gailen, heroine of the Trust Me series... http://www.amyromine.com
Monday, November 22, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
What makes you special?
Very hard question. I try and refrain from thinking of myself as “special.” I’m just trying to gain control of the wolf inside me and deal with my past, which I’d rather forget. How about I answer this question in a couple months from now―maybe I’ll have a better grip on myself then.
Tell me about your most current adventure.
So far, my life has been quite an adventure. But the latest…well I’ll try to sum it up!
A vicious werewolf attack in Plymouth, Minnesota leaves a young woman violated, bitten and now, transformed into werewolf. But Rynn Murphy doesn’t have to face this transformation alone—she has her mate by her side. And the charming Briggs―Beta to the Patriarch, Valor―is eager to ease her into this new life and mend her battered soul.
With only weeks to adjust to her new fur, Rynn, follows Briggs while he assists in locating the daughter of the Montana’s Alpha, who was abducted from her home. But this journey is not without danger. And soon, they discover the ones who have taken this young wolf do not want her found and will stop at nothing to keep her hidden. Or so it may seem, as bodies begin to drop around them, the murderous attempts start to appear more as a hit than a smoke screen—leaving only one question, who is the intended target…
If you could offer your author advice, what would it be?
I’d tell my author to stop putting me in dangerous situations and give me more sexy scenes!
Are you happy with the way people perceive you?
Truthfully, I’ve got enough on my plate than to worry about how others perceive me. Of course, I want to be liked. But you can’t be liked by everyone. So, I just carry on, push through, and hope in the end it all works out okay.
Tell us a little bit about your world.
My world…seems like a simple answer, but really it’s not! At one time, I was a normal every-day gal who worked to pay the bills. Not only for myself, but also for my Pop’s who’s in a nursing home. Now, I’m mated to the Beta of the Patriarch, Valor―he’s the ruler over the Alpha’s. Basically, my days are spent trying to sort out my tragic past and dig my claws into my new life as a werewolf.
Does your author ever try to take over the story? And how do you deal with it?
Yes, she tries, but not like it does her any good. I always take hold of the story and show her the way. The good thing is, she listens. If not, we might have a problem or two.
Is expressing love difficult for you? Why?
It’s very difficult, and it’s what I’m trying to get past. My mate, Briggs is more than I could ever ask for. He deserves to be loved fully and completely. But you see, there was an incident that ruined me. A woman’s greatest fear. And I’m trying to deal with the repercussions of that moment. Luckily, Briggs is a huge support and is handling me with great care. Yet…I know the time will come when I have to leave the past behind and move on. My only concern is can I?
What is the most interesting thing that has happened to you?
Does shifting into a werewolf fall into the “interesting” category? Well for me, it did. Scared the bejesus out of me in fact. Good thing, my new friend, Nexi, part/witch, part/guardian was there to help me along or I don’t know what would’ve happened. Probably stayed wolf forever, which I’ve heard only gets you one thing―dead. Let’s just say, I’m glad it all worked out ok.
If you could pull your author into your world, what do you think would happen to them?
That’s a joke, right? Stacey would cower and hide when the dangerous moments happened. And I’d have to keep a close eye on her, because I suspect, she’d be chasing after Briggs tail.
Does shifting hurt?
You would think it does, but it doesn’t, it’s more of a shift in your senses. When the magical takes hold the shift comes so quickly it’s hard to even notice it. That is, until your standing on all fours and scents come strong around you. But really, I’m still working all this wolf business out, I’m probably not the best one to ask this.
Have you ever had a flea bath?
No, but now that you mention it, I think it might be a good idea. Not that I think I have fleas, but the idea of having them is so disgusting, I best take preventative measures.
Is silver dangerous for you or is that a myth?
Myth. The only thing that kills werewolves in my world is a good bite to the neck. But don’t kid yourself, I’m not at all eager to find out if I’m capable of killing.
Do you shed a lot?
I’ve been a werewolf for such a short time that I haven’t even really noticed. Maybe when the seasons change I’ll get Briggs to get a good brush, cause there is nothing sexy about losing your hair.
What do you think about the Quileute Pack?
Um…I haven’t met them personally. But from what I hear they’re a bunch of werewolves who seek to protect the humans around them. What’s not to love? Oh and I hear, Jacob isn’t bad to look at either. Maybe Briggs and I can visit someday. Not that I’ll be looking or anything…
It was a pleasure to send the morning with you. Thanks for stopping by.
Here’s a list of where to find Stacey.
PRAISE FOR THE WILLOW RT Book Reviews “…Kennedy has created a world that readers will want to visit again and again!” Dawn Crowne
PRAISE FOR THE WICKED Bitten by Paranormal Romance “Do you love magic, dominant men, adventure, humor, evil villains and a talking cat? Well here is an excellent book for you to try.” Laurie
PRAISE OF A DEADLY WHISPER Happily Ever After Reviews
“The readers will find themselves snickering and crying with the characters. I highly recommend this book. Read it, go get it right away.” Hunter
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
She filled the cup with coffee and felt heat on her back. Someone pushed her hair of her neck. The wafting of soft leather filled her senses and she smiled his lips touching her neck. His strong arms wrapping around her waist she leaned back, her head resting on his shoulder. His soft tantalizing kisses led a path beneath her chin until his gentle hand tilted her head allowing him access to her mouth. She opened to him, teasing him with her tongue to let him know how much she enjoyed his attention.
She turned into his chest, her lips feasting on his mouth demanding his undivided attention. His hand wrapped in her hair, his arm at the small of her back pulling her closer.
This is killing me...
She opened her eyes seeing the door of the supply closet a few feet away. She broke the embrace and his expression fell before she flashed him a wicked smile. She grabbed his handing leading him to the door. She took a quick look around the bullpen. Everyone was preoccupied with the payroll dead line.
She opened the door, spun to face him and pulled him inside. She saw the smile on his face just before small rooms only current illumination disappeared with the closing of the door. His mouth claimed her lips before she could take a breath. His hand in her hair, he led her movement as his thumb caressed the line of her jaw. She steadied herself against the curl of his arm. Her back hit the smooth wall and her arms pulled him closer.
His lips terrorizing her ear. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders before nimbly releasing his tie. His mouth attached itself to her neck as she tugged the shirt from his pants. She traced her nails from his abdomen to his shoulders. She nipped at his neck with her teeth as her hands exploring beneath the fabric. Her mouth followed her hands down, following the ripples of his body. She quickly undid his belt, feeling him brush against her hand…
Rebecca found herself staring down at her coffee. Ripped from the fantasy.
“Beccs are you okay?”
She felt flushed, turning toward the voice.
“They’re waiting in the conference room.”
“Great, let’s go.”
Monday, November 15, 2010
I am salivating, fangs extended and aching to go tear a few throats out. My author contacted me, very upset about finding TWO of her books, my stories, up on illegal downloading sites. I know we have crossed this subject before, but I feel it is important enough to repeat.
Friday, November 12, 2010
As many of you know, I do not fancy the traditional human holiday festivities. However, this year I decided to heed Izzy’s advice and I held an early Thanksgiving dinner for our local law enforcement, last night.
The reasons were two-fold, actually. One, it gave me the opportunity to “suggest” that law enforcement should be more cooperative with members of my clan and second, since this Carly Bright was already in town, it opened the door for me to get to know her and her partner better.
The festivities started with the usual excitement of law enforcement officers mingling around the free food and telling their, “the one that almost got away” stories. Carly, however, remained relatively quiet. I had started to believe that there was something more to her than her good looks.
Once dinner was served, we gathered around the table and, of course, someone insisted on saying grace. Out of respect and the fact that Izzy kicked my shin, under the table, I observed the moment silently.
My guest enjoyed their meal and I enjoyed the show. It started with Carly excusing herself from the table and in doing so, knocking over the glass of red wine. After offering her apologies, she proceeded to aimlessly wander the estate “looking for the restroom” as she put it. I allowed her her curiosity for while. There is nothing here that I fear any human, law enforcement or not, finding.
After personally escorting her to the bathroom, I rejoined my guests and waited for Carly’s return. It wasn’t long after that, that Carly came running into the main dining hall with Viola hot on her heels waving her favorite butcher knife. Carly tripped and grabbed the tablecloth. As she went down, the plates and the food went with her, but our officers in blue, quickly lifted their plates as the food moved away from from them. They do have their priorities and apparently free food is top on the list.
If Carly is as good as a detective as she is clumsy, she will be one of the finest officers on the streets.
I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. The evenings festivities have encouraged me to become more active in the holidays.
I wonder how much ruckus I can cause by inviting Zyra and Lillian to Christmas dinner? It has been a while since I’ve seen a good old fashioned supernatural fight.
Zyra, would you ever forgive me?
Just a thought…
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Sinking down into her new couch she smiled as she became absorbed by the pillows and reaching for the remote, she turned on the TV searching for something to watch. Cartoons were always a entertaining so she stopped on the cartoon network and just let her mind be preoccupied with silliness for a while.
Feeling her eyes getting heavy she tried to fight it, fearing what laid in wait on the other side, but not having the energy to sustain the battle, she slipped into sleep.
She was warm and comfortable, safe.
Feeling a drip of water fall on her cheek she brushed it away without thought, falling back into the warmth of her soft cocoon. Feeling it again, she wiped it away and then feeling it again, she wiped it away and opened her eyes. Sitting up feeling an overwhelming grogginess, she felt another drip, hearing it touch her cheek. Wiping it off her cheek again, she looked at her hand seeing blood. The droplets continued swiftly, becoming a rain of blood on her and looking up in confusion she saw Eric's eyes wide and cold as his bloodied body hung from the ceiling dripping down on her.
Falling to her knees Rebecca screamed in horror.
Bolting up right Rebecca scrambled off the couch her eyes immediately going to the ceiling seeing nothing but a white wall. Looking at her hands she swore she could feel something dripping on her and she ran her fingers through her hair instinctively looking at the ceiling again.
A chill ran through her and she looked at the clock. It was almost three am, and she decided she was done sleeping. Moving into the kitchen, she made some coffee and went to the fridge realizing she didn't have any cream.
How much did she want a cup of coffee?
Looking to the bedroom, she knew she'd never be able to go in and change without waking him and then her eyes rested on the dryer. Debating again, how much she wanted coffee, she made her decision and walking to the dryer, she opened it and found a pair of jeans waiting for her. Pulling them on, she slipped on her flip-flops, grabbed her wallet, keys, and headed out. It was a ten minute trip she'd be right back.
Rebecca got in her car, and drove to the convenience store down the street. Walking in, she got her cream, a few Vaults and left. She was back in the house and drinking her coffee within twelve minutes.
What she really wanted to do was go for a run, but she even knew that wasn't a good idea. Her house was too clean; however, she did see a pile of mail resting on the table by the door. Walking to it, coffee in hand, she grabbed it off the table, took a seat on the couch and started going through it.
Nothing too horrible, just a few bills and a magazine. Rising to discard the rest, she saw her coffee cup was empty and after tossing the trash, she went for a refill. Taking a sip, she drummed her fingers on the counter looking for something to do.
She had a dryer full of laundry to fold. Resting her coffee on the counter Rebecca pulled the laundry basket from the shelf and began the task of emptying the clothes into it. Carrying them to the couch, she placed the basket on the ground, walked back to get her coffee and proceeded to take a seat on the floor in front of the TV. Grabbing the remote, she changed the station to CNN for the morning news and began folding the laundry her mind already wondering what she was going to do next.
Author Amy Romine writing as Rebecca Gailen the Heroine of Trust Me Trilogy - Book 2 Veiled Deception (COMING Dec 2010) http://www.amyromine.com
Monday, November 8, 2010
She has a soft spot for knee socks...
Leather is always fun...
Or perhaps I should just give her some more inspiration? A few more stories to write....I am sure she would like that...
Friday, November 5, 2010
Perhaps, it is the allure of the change in weather. Perhaps, it is the plethora of new and revitalized energy. Perhaps, it is simply the time of year that speaks to me and beckons my name, but whatever it is, it is calling.
I feel every single change that Autumn brings forth and I, for a lack of better words, am frisky. Even Zoe, Izzy’s black Maine Coon familiar is hyper these days. She runs around with her tail puffed up, chasing imaginary shadows, crawling her way up the tapestries and wrecking havoc in my home. I can’t blame her, if I could, I would join in on the fun.
I feel the exhilarating energy swirling around me and through me making me restless. It is not strange. Only the most perceptive of humans can feel it and if your lucky enough to be one of them, you know exactly what I mean.
Like Zoe, I want to puff up and run. I want to create my own havoc. I want to climb up buildings and dive into someone’s bed. If I showed up at your door, would you let me in?
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
A Memo from the Desk Of Rebecca Gailen - Sr. Operations Manager
Hello my dearest Aurora,
I have watched you for hours, I know your face by heart, your twinkling eyes, subtle smile and your enchanting laugh. You and all of your wicked charms excite me, entice me and make me…want…
They all pretend to be you now, starving for my attention they mock your regalia and are easily destroyed in your defense. Their tears become the water of life for you to drink at your leisure.
Ah the yearning of a place of warmth within your embrace. Within the solace of your eyes. He looks at you now. The other looks upon you fondly, behind the text of muted words and stolen thoughts. He wants you as I do, we are brothers in that regard, linked by a shared rising of hope. Will-less to your whims we sway within your breath, within the curve of your supple body begging for the smallest brush of fate to push us together.
The fates, I have learned are cruel innuendos for retribution, revenge and jealousy. You were marked by them long before my soul reached for you and now I am forced to endure their demands. They have suffered and therefore you must suffer.
You must scream, weep, beg and collapse motionless into oblivion before they will be satisfied and even then the hatred will only hibernate for so long. The demands of the damned are never ending as is the self imposed nightmare they endure.
You see, your suffering gives them hope, lifting them out of the blackened pit they have thrown themselves in. Only you can save them, Rebecca. Only your spilt blood can lift them out of the blackness completely.
In this is my drive, my plight and I know if you knew the truth you would offer yourself up willingly, cut through your own skin to lessen the tortured of another. Alas it is not to be an easy cause and thus you are made to suffer as the damned.
I stand here now, once again covered in the sacrifice of the wicked. Anticipating your gasping horror like a erected cock being stroked by a glove of sand. It is torturous and yet highly delightful in its ability to confuse the senses and turn the pain into pleasure. Building until expulsion and lustful gratification.
I am a shadow in the light of your sun Aurora and I will bask in the glory of your glowing seraphic body until the end of days.
Your worshiping minion.
Author Amy Romine writing from the desk of Rebecca Gailen the Heroine of Serenity Lost - Trust Me Book 1. Want more info? Go to http://www.amyromine.com