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August 2nd 2016

Hm. You Don’t Say…

August 17, 2016

domestic dispute

You’re going to have to picture this. Honey and I get into bed last night and after a couple of minutes I say, “Did you leave the pool pump running?”

This is one of those things I’ve asked him not to do at night because every time the vacuum gets hooked up against one of the walls I hear gurgling and immediately wake up thinking something has fallen into the pool.

Something like what, you may ask?

Well, since we’ve lived in this house we’ve had three rabbits, 5 possums if you count the fact that it was the same baby one three different times, a cat, a bird and I don’t even want to talk about the snakes. You know? Now that I think about it. We’ve had more wildlife find their way into our currently screened-in pool then we did for the eight years we lived in a house that had a pool with no screen. That’s weird. But anyways, this is the conversation that follows.

Honey doesn’t move. He’s lying face down next to me with his head turned away as he replied, “Yeah, I left it on.”

I frown at the ceiling. “But you know I don’t like it running during the night.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “No. That’s your husband who knows that. I’m the other guy.”

There’s me, blink, blink. “Other guy?”

His voice is gravelly so I know he’s close to falling asleep when sighs. “The new boyfriend you’re trying to impress by not nagging him to death to do shit like this for you.”

Imagine my eyes narrow as I look right at you. To death? Can you spell drama queen? But then if he were the boyfriend wouldn’t he be trying to impress me with his sexual prowess?

After I explained all this to him and he didn’t budge or reply, I was curious.

“So if you’re a new boyfriend staying at my house when my husband is away why aren’t we doing the horizontal Mumba right now? Isn’t that why you’re here?

“Nope. I came for the comfortable bed. Unfortunately, I wasn’t told about the magpie that resided in it.”

Aaaand, I hit him with a pillow. When that got his attention and he turned, coming up on an elbow to look down at me, I said, “Having a new boyfriend sucks. I much prefer my husband.”

That’s when he grinned. “It would seem my work here is done.”

I waited until he settled back down with his head on the pillow before I shot that smarmy comment out of the water, “Not yet, Bucko. You still have to go turn off the pool pump.”

Haha! In the end, he didn’t leave the bed at all…but I was okay with that. Really okay, actually. 😉

But as for tonight? Well, I decided to preempt any problems in this regard. When I made the bed this morning I used the David Post-It-Notes from Requested Surrender and stuck seven of them on his pillow. The message?

Turn. The. Stupid. Pool. Pump. Off. Please!

Heh. And as the say. I shall keep you Posted.

Thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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YAY! ADDING TO OUR GIVEAWAY BECAUSE “THE WILD ONE” IS #3 ON AMAZON’S KINDLE WORLD TOP 100!!!

August 8, 2016

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So excited about this one! Ben and Daisy are a lot of smexy fun together!

Now for adding to our giveaway. If you didn’t see the Romeo pillow check it out here.

For those of you haven’t read this one, Romeo is Daisy’s naughty little chihuahua. He’s a bad little boy sometimes, but he’s so cute. See…

romeo1

And here’s what we’re going to add to our giveaway! A 25.00 Amazon giftcard.

amazon-card-blankA 25.00 Amazon giftcard.

If you’ve read The Wild One I hope you enjoyed it. And if you haven’t read it yet, I hope you will!

Oh, and an update about the fickle finger’s fate. Honey installed this:

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just inside my closet door. Actually, I use it to hang my purse on. I had been getting into a bad habit of leaving my purse in the kitchen or on the hall bench. So it’s a win/win. This way he doesn’t have to look at the finger (that he said was NOT going into our newly remodelled bathroom) and I get to keep it now that it’s been banished to the closet. I happen to love it there, so it all worked out…of course, he hasn’t seen what I bought to replace this. *Twirls handlebar mustache just before I tie him to the tracks* I’m not sure how the new item is going to go down…but you know me. I’ll spill all the beans to you once I have them. Hehhehheh. Can’t wait.

Thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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Yay! THE WILD ONE MADE AMAZON’S TOP 100 IN ROMANCE!!! AND AIRING ONE’S DIRTY LAUNDRY!!!

August 5, 2016

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I miss Ben and Daisy, but I’m so glad readers are enjoying them! I want to thank the readers who have emailed or reached out to me on Facebook to let me know how they enjoyed the story. I especially want to that those readers who have posted reviews on Amazon! I greatly appreciate you taking the time.

Okay, with that said, I did want to mention something I spoke about on Facebook. (I know a lot of you maybe aren’t on Facebook so I wanted to share this here as people are asking for an update and it’s easier doing it here.) Why are they asking? Because it’s about Honey of course. *shakes head* Here is the original post:

Things are very interesting around the house today. Honey is home and he’s doing laundry. >:0 I can’t wait to tell him what a phenomenal job he’s done – even if my clothes are ruined. Signed Riley who intends never to do laundry again in her life! *Shush* Don’t tell…

Well… *looks right at you* He did all the laundry and…? Sure, my blouse was shrunk, my jeans were left crinkled beyond being me simply re-fluffing them to wear, the socks didn’t match. *Tilts head at you* In fact, I found one in the garbage and had to ask.

“Babe why is this perfectly good sock in the trash?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Dryer ate the other one so its widow is toast.”

*Le sigh* I thought he was just trying to get me to complain, but then later I saw he’d used the match to effing stain one of the deck boards he’s planning to use to fix the secret patio decking! Dryer ate it, my ass! This is when it came to me that him doing the laundry could be somewhat of a challenge for me for other reasons than I thought. I’ll have to keep an eye out. That man!

*Pauses here to think for a moment and then remembers*

Oh, yeah. He also washed the whites first and used the automatic bleach dispenser. Then he washed our darks immediately afterward. I had to pull out the duct tape to keep quiet over that one. I’m totally amazed there wasn’t some problem with the dark load, but no. *wipes brow* there wasn’t. I will tell you what the whole experience was, though.

MUSICAL!

Between the loads being off balance so the machines pounded and shook to some jaunty tunes, and the shite he leaves in his pockets and apparently doesn’t care that they rattle around in the dryer? (I always stop the loads if I’ve missed something and collect the nuts, screws, morets, safety pins, batteries, tools, wallet, golf balls, golf tees, rubber bands, paper towels…Yeah, unfortunately, I could go one, but I won’t.) I couldn’t hear myself think straight. But I ask you. Did I complain?

NO WAY!

Heheheh. Guess who is out of laundry duty this weekend. Go on, I dare you. guess.

*Imagine me raising my arms in the air and twirling around as I fairly burst with joy* Me! Me! Me!

Right on. Oh, sure. I may be reduced to wearing my PJ’s to do the grocery shopping by Thursday but it will be worth it!

I shall keep you posted on this. And next up we’ll be adding to our build-a-giveaway. Stay tuned…

Thanks for stopping by!

Riley


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***New Release News***, a build-a-giveaway, and Honey…

July 28, 2016

 

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Ben and Daisy’s story is part of the fabulous Desiree Holt’s Bestselling Team Omega series!

The Wild One will release the 2nd of August!!! This is Daisy and Ben’s story and if you want to read an excerpt of some of the first chapter *leans in to whisper* it’s pretty funny, I’ve posted it below. You’ll also see that I posted a link to a Facebook page that you can click on if you’d like to read more of the excerpt and be entered into a giveaway there as well. I will be inviting the people following that thread on Facebook to join us here too, since I’m doing these two build-a-giveaways at the same time.

Now, for the first item to put into our build-a-giveaway on the blog.

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I love this! It’s a 16 X 16 pillow!  Actually, I adore Romeo who is the heroine’s naughty Chihuahua. Let’s just say, he’s the boss until Ben…Okay, here’s the back of the pillow. Enough said, right? Hahaha!

romeo2

As usual, if you’re a subscriber you are automatically entered in for one chance to win, but if you leave comments during our giveaway building blog posts your name gets added into the hat each time for numerous chances to win. The drawing(s) will come to a close at the end of August. That way, we’ll have plenty of awesome items for the winner(s), right? Goes without saying, but I will. When I post in the group on Facebook you’ll need to leave comments there for more chances too. The items will be different in both giveaways – and it is possible that one winner could win both giveaways because I checked the rule book and there is nothing that says this can’t happen.

About The Wild One. This book is filled with a lot of sexy fun. There’s a mystery that gets fully resolved and a big happily ever after because I think we all need one this summer. Ben and Daisy are so much fun. They steam up the pages and made me laugh more than once. I hope you guys enjoy their story!

Speaking of stories…

Honey, Honey, HONEY!

As most of you know, I hate doing laundry. I don’t know why I just do. And who knows this fact probably better than me? Honey. So here’s a random conversation over coffee the other morning.

I was thinking about the walk-in closet remodel that we are close to finishing up, so I asked him, “Did you get a chance to go through those clothes I put out for you in the spare room?”

He nodded “I did. And there’s a strange thing about those dress shirts.”

Now I must pause here in the telling of this little tête-à-tête because Honey doesn’t like dress shirts. I happen to love them on him with the sleeves rolled up when he’s wearing jeans.

Him? He likes his T-shirts and golf shirts. Which are okay too, but not as okay as the dress shirts and jeans are to me sometimes. *sigh* Anyways, this is important to know because…

I lift a brow and stare at him querying, “Oh?”

“Yeah. They all fit me great everywhere but in the arms. Either they’re too tight or too short.” He does a chopping motion to indicate the middle of his forearm and says, “Most of them were up to here.”

By now I already know where he’s going with this. He’s bagged all the dress shirts he never liked. The black and white paisley one I absolute love on him. The deep purple one he says he looks like an asshole in. The—yeah, I could go on, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear all my domestic fashion trials with him, so suffice it to say, Honey has found the perfect time to get what he wants without pissing me off.

Or so he thinks…

“Wow.” I shook my head as if he’d just shared the worst tragedy. “Short sleeves, huh? Maybe it’s not the sleeves being short. Maybe it’s your arms being freakishly long.”

The bugger didn’t even blink when he drawled, “And here I was trying to take the heat off the situation when we both know what the problem really is.”

I tilted my head and said in a voice that I hoped conveyed how careful he should be going forward. “And what would be this real problem you speak of?”

“Your, ah, less than stellar laundry ethics.”

Ethics? LMAO! I think he means efforts.

OMG! I nearly fell off the couch. If you guys knew how long I’ve waited to hear those words *insert me counting on my finger and toes here only, drat! There’s not enough of them* just so I could finally say, “I’m not going to argue with you about that, babe. I fully concede. You’d do a much better job than me, so have at it.”

How did he respond? He laughed.

*Looks right at you* I wonder if he’ll be laughing when he realizes I’m dead serious. 😀

Speaking of serious, this one freaked me out. Last night I came into the family room and Honey was flicking the TV channels around. After he stopped on some cooking show and I watched what one of the contestants was doing to a cake, I said, “The cake is too hot that’s why the frosting is melting. Surely to God there’s a better way for him to remove it, than dragging it off with a paper towel.”

“Agreed. When that happens to me I use a spoon, that way I can eat it.”

There’s me, blink, blink, because…well, Honey has been known to make a cake or two. Actually, he used to do this all the time for my birthday and our Anniversary when the kids were small.

“Tell me you did not let the kids use spoons to slurp the liquid frosting off those cakes you guys used to make me.” Did I mention I’m a little OCD about germs?

“Sure I did. That’s why I always bought two cans of frosting. It’s a tradition.”

Aaaaand, we have another OMG moment, people. I’ve always wondered why the guy needed two cans of the good stuff for one cake, and now I know.

*Shakes head*

Reminded me of the time I left him to make the kids lunches for a couple of days. Years later the kids told me about what they’d dubbed their dad “Caveman meals”. Whole pieces of chicken, slabs of leftover roast beef, and hunks of cheddar cheese, to name just a few. There I was, listening to the children – now adults – regaling me with those long ago lunch-bagged items in total shock, when both of them finished by saying, “They were the best!”

So, you see? There’s hope after all. Maybe now that my caveman will pulling laundry duty he’ll do it the same way he did the kids lunches and you’ll hear me shouting from the rooftops, “This freshly laundered shirt is the best!”

*Pulls down my reading glasses and looks at you over the rims* That is so what I’m shouting, even if I find my clothes, wrinkled, stained, and still wet. Mum’s the word, ok?

Thanks for stopping by!

Don’t forget to leave a comment for additional chances. Oh, and you may want to follow the link and sign up on Facebook. That giveaway is going to be fun too!

Click here for the link

Here’s the excerpt. A little bit of chapter one.

Chapter One

She had a T-shaped scar on her forehead. It was barely visible. A ghost of a mark, and yet he couldn’t stop staring at it. The imperfection bothered him on several levels. The most important being a sign of carelessness.

Maybe he should have listened to his gut and turned this mission down. But when he’d heard the words, “Trust me. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for,” from one of the team leaders at the Omega headquarters yesterday, he found he couldn’t say no.

So here he was.

With her.

He glared while she continued to ignore him, and slid her stylish brushed nickel-rimmed frames up on the bridge of her nose. This was the third time she’d done it in as many minutes. What the hell was she reading? His glare intensified. “Are those real glasses?”

A stupid question to ask, he supposed, but one that cut through the echoing silence.

Finally. She looked up from her cell and her gaze pinned him. He’d been wrong about the color of her eyes. She didn’t have green eyes like him. Hers were blue.

“Is that a real gun, Mr. Montgomery?”

Ben’s hand automatically went to his Glock holstered just under his left arm and he stroked the 9mm. She wanted to play twenty questions? He didn’t have a problem with that. “Are you serious, Ms. Keller?”

Her brows lifted and that thread-like T over her left one got shorter. “Are you?”

Damn. She was a veritable glacier. “Look.” He sat forward and clasped his hands together, resting them on the metal table. He’d always thought the interrogation rooms at Omega Team’s head office were big, but today he was feeling cramped in the space. All because of her. Screw the irritating surname BS. “Daisy, is it? I’m trying to make polite conversation while we wait for the details.”

She copied him by sitting forward and arranging her hands. She even angled her head the way he’d positioned his, only in the opposite direction. It would have been funny if he thought she was teasing him. Somehow he doubted the woman knew what humor was. “Ben, is it? Polite how? By asking me about my glasses? The least you could have done is ask about my scar that you’ve been staring at for the last five minutes.”

He didn’t blink. “Four.”

“Four what?”

“Minutes. And it would have been rude of me to ask you about that.”

She sat back with a sigh. “Yes.”

It took him a second to realize she was answering him about the glasses. “Well, they don’t look it.”

“Neither does your gun.”

He did a double-take. “Maybe you need new glasses.” He eased back in the seat and gave his iron buddy a pet. “It doesn’t get any realer than this.”

“Shouldn’t we be talking about my brother-in-law?”

Although he didn’t know squat about her relative at the moment, Ben didn’t like wasting time. Once the lead on this mission arrived they’d discuss the man in full details, he was sure. “Not yet.”

She raked a hand through her hair and it caught him off guard. Most women in Florida’s humid climate wore a shit-load of hairspray. He hated that because it made things difficult when a guy wanted to sink his hand into the silk. Wouldn’t be any trouble gaining a grip on her strands. They were glossy and bounced when she finished the irritated action.

But then, didn’t ice burn to touch just as bad as flame?

“What about the house? I could tell you about that.”

No need until he was told about the ultimate purpose of the weekend. “Too soon.”

Her eyes narrowed and that’s when he realized they were big, because even half closed they shined. “How about we discuss this aspect of our time together?”

He saw the book that skidded across the table toward him in a series of spinning circles. No sooner did he catch it and read the title, The Story of O, than another book shot over the metal surface, A Submissive Mindset. Then another, A Dom’s Dream. Then what he hoped would be the last one arrived, An Amateur’s Detective Story, and he snagged it, looking up. “This we can talk about.”

Now that he’d scoped her out? She needed a Dom for the weekend and he was up for the job.

One look at her and he noted she seemed surprised he’d agreed so readily to chat, but why wouldn’t he? It was interesting reading material. O was one of his favorites for more than just the obvious reasons too.

Inclining her head toward the books he’d begun stacking, she said, “As you can see, I’ve prepared myself.”

With that comment, his hand stilled at neatening the pile. Prepared herself? Granted, he hadn’t read any of these books, aside from the one, but that one was enough to get his Dom blood flowing. A dark thrill went through him and he decided to test her mettle here. Was she committed to pulling this off? Putting some steel into his tone, he responded, “I certainly hope so.” His gaze rested on the rise and fall of her chest. No rapid breathing. No unnecessary shift in body position. Hm. She was made of ice. He looked up. “I don’t like to be disappointed.”

In the wake of that statement, she swallowed. He saw it. It was such a small action, and yet very telling. He held her gaze more intensely.

After all. Ice cracked. Sometimes in two and sometimes in a million pieces. How would she fracture?

“I’m sure you have a particular preference. I know I have mine, but I wanted to make this as natural for you as possible.”

She had a preference? By the look of her it was having intercourse in a dark room under some very neat, most likely starched covers. Oh yeah. He could have fun with this.

“Rope.” He wasn’t a rigger by any means, but if he was going to have to control her to protect her, a woman being tied to his bed usually precluded any late night wandering and getting into trouble while he was catching some shut-eye. “And dark, mussed up sheets are required.”

The last topic mentioned seemed to interest her. She sat forward. “Sheets?”

(end)

Have fun and good luck!!!!

Riley

 

 


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