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December 20, 2014

Okay, now we need a few suggestions and more loot added to the giveaway!

March 15, 2015

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**NEW** Included with the items already in the giveaway (you see below) are two signed books you see above!

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Gunn note pad and the mystery box!

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On with the story contest. I’ve compiled the suggested list of names from my previous post about the story and now I need you to suggest two things this time. One is the setting of the typical life of our characters and the other is the story “trigger”. Let’s talk setting first. As stories go, we’ll meet the H/h in their everyday lives to understand them. I’m picturing Kathleen Turner in Romancing The Stone. In the opening scene of that story we meet her as an introverted writer whose best friend is her cat. We get that she’s a homebody with no love life, but desperately loves the idea of love as she writes about it all day.

Our heroine has to have an everyday life too. Is she a professional who is driven? A single woman out of work? You might not think this important, but it is. What she lacks in her everyday life could become the trigger that starts her story. Follow me.

The trigger is usually something beyond the H/h control that gets squeezed in order for the story to start. Again, using Romancing The Stone as an example, the heroine receives a disturbing call from her sister who’s in Columbia. The sister sent the heroine something in the mail and now she needs the heroine to bring that item to Columbia so the bad guys won’t kill her. Pair that trigger with what we already learned from the heroine’s everyday life and we see the problem. How’s a homebody who has no friends and is introverted going to get to the other side of the world and save her sister? Simple. She’s going on a quest, but we don’t need to worry about that right now. That’s for next time.

So everyone understand what I need from you to begin to build the story structure?

  1. The heroine’s everyday life that gives a clear picture of what kind of person she is.
  2. The trigger. What happens to the H/h to start our story.


I’ll use the story I’m getting ready to release, Provoked, as an example.


The everyday life part:


Charlotte Wood is the executive secretary for the local museum. Her twin sister is a feisty submissive who works at a prominent BDSM establishment. When she and her twin need to raise money to help their parents handle a family crisis, she steps out of her comfort zone to earn the cash.


The trigger: Unfortunately, she steps on the wrong toes doing so, and the only way to get around landing in this potentially bad situation in-the-making is to switch lives with her twin for two short days. It was the perfect solution until she learns that her twin sister has her own potentially bad situation brewing with a renowned Dom that Charlotte, or Charlie as she’s called, walks right into. See the problem? How’s a museum secretary, who’s trying to do the right thing by her mom and dad, going to handle faking her way through a bad situation with a strict Dom that’s meant for her feisty, but submissive twin? Well…me thinks she’s going on a sexual quest, but we don’t need to discuss that right now. We’ll do it next time. :)


As always post your suggestions and I’ll make a list. Once we have the basic structure I’ll post a total of five scenes to make up our short story asking for more suggestions as we go along. It should be fun with lots of good loot added to the giveaway each time.


If you have any questions just post those as well.


Here’s a little teaser from Provoked.


Heheheh! Charlie has no idea what’s she in for. Neil is a pretty strict Dom who’s not going to cut her any slack because he thinks she’s a well-seasoned submissive. >.<

I hope to have this book all polished and ready to release by the end of the month. *fingers crossed!*

Thanks for stopping by!


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It’s Time For Some Fun! A Build A Story Contest!

March 2, 2015

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So we’ll start with this “mystery box” and one of my newly designed Gunn note pads. <- I lurve them! Each week (plus or minus a couple of days depending on my schedule and muse :) )  I’ll add another item to the giveaway and you’ll be tasked to drop in comments suggestions I can use to build our short story. It’s going to be a romance. A steamy one so get ready. Heheheh.

Week one (that’s right now) I need a hero and heroine name. Remember, this is a legit story not like the last one that was a parody on romance. We want smexy names that readers can connect with and pronounce. I mean Starfairyvalerina is a nice name for a heroine, but would you want to have to laboriously read: “Starfairyvalerina said” a thousand times? Or “Starfairyvalerina coughed” or “Starfairyvalerina tripped”, or whatever? That said, I’m not sure how well some shorter hero names would work either. I’m thinking in Starfairyvalerina’s point of view at the moment and it sounds something like this:

Holy hell, he was power personified as he tore the front of her shirt open and unhooked her bra. Cool air hit her in all the right places before his heat crushed up against her nakedness. If this was a mistake she was prepared to nail it. He needed to know that. “Oh God, Bob, you are the man.” <- Eek! >.<

I don’t know why, but that kind of name just pulls me right out of the scene.

So you get my drift? The names of characters do matter. This is important. Suggest wisely. After we pick our names we’ll move onto the next phase in the story making process and so on. Each week I’ll add another item(s) to the giveaway until we have a nice package for some lucky subscriber/commenter to win when our story comes to a close. As I did before, the last thing you’ll get to see is what’s in the mystery box. Yay! I think you guys are going to love it.

Oh, and before I end this topic and move onto my new Honey topic, I do want to tell you that Bella, Summer, Wynter, and Autumn are off the table for heroine names, and Travis, Brock, and Wade, are off the table for the hero. Other than that? Knock yourselves out. :)


Okay onto Honey. If you’ve been reading my last few posts you should know that I’ve been sick. Surprising, because I never get sick, but I figured I was due. Anyway Honey and I were supposed to go away over the weekend to an important family event, and as I didn’t want to be a Typhoid Mary I chose to stay home. Long story short? Honey was fine until yesterday on his way home. Yeah, about that. We kind of like to drive when we go together as we get to spend time hanging out and we can stop en route at weird places and poke around. Unfortunately, I took so long to decide about staying home that Honey had to do the long drive by himself (normally he would have flown) *le sigh*. Here are multiple snippets of conversations from yesterday when Honey pulled over at different times on the way home.

The first call came in at 6:30 in the morning. I wasn’t even awake when I answered my cell. “Hello?”

“I’m sick.”

“Who is this?”

“Very funny. I’ve got the plague.”

Yeah, what was I supposed to say to that? “I’m sorry.”

“I’m at the mini mart on I75. Should I get Airbourne or vitamin C?”

I was going to tell him at this point it didn’t matter, but I went with vitamin C.

Two hours later:

No hello or anything. Just a whine that sounded like one of our kids. “It didn’t work. I have chills.”

“Oh babe, I’m sorry.”

“I’m at another mini mart. Should I get aspirin?”

I knew it wasn’t going to help, but I said. “Absolutely.”

An hour later:

Again no greeting just a gravelly growl. “Why didn’t you tell me aspirin wasn’t going to do squat? I needed Jose to explain it to me?”

I wasn’t surprised that Honey had made a friend. He often did on our travels. “Who’s Jose?”

“My priest, confessor, and doctor all in one. He hooked me up.”

I wasn’t liking the sound of that. “With what?”

“Cough syrup.”

“What kind?”

“The good kind. At least my throat is feeling better.”

Three hours later and I’m beginning to get worried when he calls and sounds like he did when he was eighteen and trying to get into my pants. 0.o

“Hey babe, what’s shaking?”

“How much cough syrup have you had?”

“A few sips. What’s for dinner?”

Although I was relieved that he was showing signs of improving, wanting to eat, I was still wondering how much of the syrup he’d drunk and too, how much alcohol was in it. When I mentioned this to him he got all pissy and started down the list of things he could drink and not get drunk until it made sense. But still…

“Are you sure you’re okay? No more cough syrup until you’re home.”

“I’m fine. I have a little bit of scratchy throat and the lightheadedness passed about an hour ago. In fact…”

Yup, I knew he was better when he started to tell me that he’d even thought about taking a break from driving and stopping into one of the topless “we bare all” establishments. It took me a full minute and a half to realize he was attempting to have some kind of messed up phone sex with me. *Looks right at you* For starters, mentioning a seedy highway strip joint as the smexy place to be isn’t on my list of “go to” places to have hot and sweaty sex with my man. Of course, I let him talk and talk and talk about…well, a lot of things that I’d be doing with others if I did go there – ALL FEMALES if you know what I mean? Then when he sighed and finished with a smug, “What do you think about that?”

I said, “I think I’m too sick and you’re too hopped up on cough meds. Exactly where are you?”

“Why? You thinking of joining me?”

I had no words, people. If the guy was as sick as I was when I first came down with this pestilence I couldn’t for the life of me believe he’d be thinking about sex, but he was! We wound up talking about that oddity until he pulled into the driveway. I was so happy to see him, I didn’t even complain about the bottle of DayQuil he was swigging out of. The real kicker about that? Today he’s almost better. Wow, my first thought was that maybe Jose had missed his calling. My second? Where’s the cough meds. ;)

Riley, who’s anxiously awaiting the hero and heroine name suggestions to be posted by you guys. Don’t forget. Every time you post a comment your name gets added to the hat for more chances to win. Oh, and for those of you who prefer to email me through contacts you’ll be added to the hat each time as well. This is going to be fun! Can’t wait!



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I sleep like a what???? You can’t feel what???

February 26, 2015



I sleep like what?

My Honey issue #1

Honest to frigging God, I didn’t see this one coming. You guys know I’m sick, right? Don’t sick people deserve to convalesce in peace? I thought so. In fact, I made/make sure my guys always bask in comfort when they’re feeling ill at ease. Who remembers Nurse Bambi? Am I right?

Anyways, here’s the depressing truth, and the even more depressing conversation with, guess who? HONEY!

Here’s the deal. We’re sitting across from one another in the morning ready to have our coffee when I was just about to take a sip of my steaming Java and Honey says, “You sleep like a vampire.”

I pause, and the steam out of the cup rises in front of my eyes, but not enough that I can’t narrow my gaze at him. “Excuse me?”

“A vampire.” At this point he tucks his arms up crisscross over his chest and leans back like a stiff. “The undead people.”

*Imagine me hanging my head in disgust for a second and then turning to look at you without lifting it back up* Seriously? *Now I bring the old noggin up and look at him.

“Did you just notice this? I mean we’ve been married for nearly three decades, and in all that time something as creepy as this has escaped your notice?” Not that I thought for a moment that I sleep like Dracula or anything, but I find with Honey if I jab him with facts he can’t dispute, he apologizes to me faster. So I was going with the idea that maybe he was mistaken just this once. *Wink, wink* Why? Well, could be that I’m sick and I discovered if I remain in one position and I keep really still, I wouldn’t be hacking and coughing all over the freak lying beside me in bed who NOW thinks I’m a undead bat.

Honey to his credit, took a large mouthful of coffee, swallowed, and then returned his cup to the table before he shrugged. “Maybe you were just bitten.”

To which I deadpanned. “If I were you’d be the first one I’d feast on. For no other reason than I couldn’t fathom living without your wit for all eternity.

Moving onto my Honey issue #2

I didn’t see this one coming either. Yesterday I’m putting together the pasta and Caesar salad for dinner and Honey is in the kitchen, as he usually is. He’s like a big kid. Always trying to steal stuff before it’s done, or taste stuff while it’s cooking. Actually, I’m so used to this that half the time I don’t even notice, but last night? He brought something new to the table…or kitchen…or routine. There I am walking around him for the third time, filling pots and getting plates out that I finally tried to push him out of my way.

I laughed. “Would you move?” I smacked his hand away from where he was trying to grab a piece of bacon I cooked for the salad. “Just step aside a bit.”

He steps in front of me instead. “Oh, sure, that’s what you’d like, isn’t it?”

*Looks right at you and shrugs because YES that’s exactly what I wanted* I say, “Of course.”

Now you have to imagine Honey being totally dejected here. He did a great job even I was feeling a little bad for his “kick-the-can” expression until he over sold it when he said, “I was working so hard today I can’t feel my hands. They’re bloodless. Numb. The damaged one has all kinds of strange tingles in it. It’s going to fall off.”

“You’re not getting the bacon.”

“Look, it’s not getting enough blood to it.” He flashed it at me, turning it back and forth for my perusal.

I didn’t even blink. “No bacon.”

“Things fall off when they don’t get fed.”

“Don’t you mean blood to them?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he said eyeing the meat on the counter.

Now, not only did I blink, but I looked right down the length of him until I got to….you know where, and mused, “I wonder if Bobbit was trying to steal the bacon when his fell off?”

That got his attention. “His didn’t fall off!”

I smiled and said, “I know.”

Yeah, that must have got the blood pumping. Honey was out of the kitchen, and my hair, in no time. LOL!


Tonight I shall sleep au natural. Meaning? I am going to cough and hack all I want, and Honey is going to wish for old “Vlad the Impaler” to be sleeping beside him once more. ;)


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Who are you calling beautiful???

February 21, 2015

domestic dispute


So before I begin, are you sitting down? No? *shrugs and starts to pace back and forth as I say* Go ahead, find a seat. This one’s gonna be good. Promise. :)

*Stops pacing after a minute and turns to you* Ready? Great. Now, this is what happened. First let me explain that I currently have a plague-type thing going on. I’d say it’s a cold, or maybe a flu, but lucky me thinks it’s a lot of both. Yay!

Oh, for those of you who’ve been reading my blog for a while you already know how illness affects the Murphy household. For those of you who don’t, feel free to check this out (click here). It explains the dynamics between sickness and man (otherwise known as Honey versus death). It’s a pretty good drama so you may want to pop up some corn.

But I digress…

Picture this. Me on the couch last night during the early evening hour. I’m fading fast. As in I swear if the pooch wasn’t sprawled across my lap I would have slid right off the darn seat. I can barely keep my head up and Honey does what Honey does best. He remains oblivious to the pestilence that has its clutches on me. No word of a lie. This is what he says.

“Hey babe, you come here often?”

If I could have turned my cannonball head to glare at him I would have, but instead I made a face and continued to stare off into space.

“Not even a grin? What’s the matter?”

I would have frowned, but my pounding forehead said no way. “I’m sick. I’m so sick in fact I’ve been sitting here for the past hour working up the strength to go to bed.”


He says this with such conviction I have to look. He can’t be serious. Maybe I was deluded. Could be. I gauged my fever was about 102. “You didn’t believe me when I passed on dinner? Or took medicine after I told you that I was S.I.C.K. Sick?”

“But you look great.”

Me, blink, blink.

“Your cheeks are a nice pink color.”

“That would be the fever.”

“Your eyes are glassy. Just the way they go when I’m turning you on.”

I didn’t blink this time. “Fever.”

“You’re really quiet. Makes me want to do things to you.”

If I could have hurmphed I would have. Instead I deadpan, “Fever.”

“And your hair looks particularly great tonight.”

Yeah, I didn’t have an answer to that one, other to say that someone upstairs has a helluva sense of humor. My hair did look great and the only ones to see it besides Honey and me were going to be our bed pillows. #$#@!!!

“Now that I’m looking at you, you’re quite beautiful this evening.”

*Looks right at you* Seriously, people? This is what Honey says when I feel like I’m a walking petri dish for the touch it only with a ten-foot pole specimens growing in it? “You can compliment me all you want, you’re not getting any.”

Fortunately, his thoughtless attitude gave me the strength I needed to drag my fever ridding butt up off the couch and stumble into the kitchen. I was just pouring myself a glass of juice to take to our room, when he comes up behind me and put his arms around me. When he bent to whisper in my ear, I wasn’t sure whether it was the chills from the fever or the chills from his husky voice that made me shake. “Don’t go to bed mad. I was just thinking it would be a shame to waste such a good look on sleep.”

I didn’t have the strength to shrug him off. “You better be kidding.”

“You don’t have to kiss me.”

And right there I started to steam. Again, it could have been the fever, but I’m thinking not. Quietly I asked, “Do I have to talk?”



“Not if you don’t want to.”

“Do I have to breathe?”

Bingo. That got his attention. “What?”

“You know, breathe, because right now I’m thinking you’ll be getting some over my dead body. So breathing, would kind of defeat the whole purpose.”

LMAO! The look on his crestfallen face? Priceless!

Men! They have such messed up priorities, it’s a wonder the human race has survived for as long as it has. Hello? Remember the bubonic plague?

Anyone else envisioning this kind of scenario?

A London gal in the 1340’s holding up her hand and saying, “Not tonight dear, I’m feeling under the weather. Isn’t there some sort of scourge menacing the land?”

To which her single-minded mate with the messed up priorities quips, “Pish-posh. It ain’t like I’m going to let you breathe on me or anything. Lift up the nightie and let me give ya a go.” ;)


Who still feels like crap, but at least Honey is making me laugh. Today he called me on my cell six times. Why you may ask? Well, it seems he likes my husky phone sex operator voice. Did I mention that he was watching a documentary in the family room while I was three rooms over trying to work? He was hoping I’d talk dirty to him. So I did. I read him a scene out of my next book.

Four minutes into doing that and there he was standing at my office door *looks right at you* Aaaand, we were back to me not having to breathe on him! *Shakes head* Unbelievable!

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