WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

 

Okay, so Honey and I were having one of our infamous chats about the universe and something interesting came up. Actually, *Looks right at you* several interesting things came to my attention, but I am going to focus in on just one.

An EMP attack of global proportions.

I know, deep, right?

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term, it’s an Electromagnetic pulse attack that would basically wipe out our infrastructure. No electronics, no sewer, no electric, no water…yeah, no nuthin’ we’d be living like the cavemen in no time. *sigh* I hate to ponder about these things, but sometimes you have to.

*Thinks for a second* Then? *Points at you*

This doesn’t mean you can’t make the solution be one that is fun and uplifting to think about.

Honey calls this “my making Lemon meringue pie out of a watermelon moment”, but whatever.

So here’s the conversation:

I say, “You know I was thinking about imminent global threats today and this one came to me.”

“Oh boy.” He sat down and lifted a brow at me. “Am I going to need a drink, or will this just have me buying more life insurance?”

Haha! The latter was always a good idea. “No seriously. I was thinking about an EMP attack and it made very, very sad.”

Now both his brows went up. “I’d be devastated. No electronics? I’m the one who watches TV.”

Yeah, yeah, that was true, but for this conversation, I didn’t want to focus in on the fallout details. Hollywood and every Debbie downer on the planet had those things covered. I wanted to envision an upside to the end game of this kind of attack – any kind of attack actually. So I said this to him and funny enough – he was interested.

“An upside to societal breakdown? I gotta hear this and don’t tell me Batman arrives to save the day or that aliens land and stop the war.” He shook his head. “And don’t frown. I know you too well so I know how your writer’s mind works.”

*Raises my hand to you and acknowledges, guilty! I’m always inventing possible plot scenarios that cover just about any outlandish or fanciful thing* NOT that I was going to admit this to him. 😉 “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Pay attention. Imagine if you will—”

“Here we go,” he interrupted. *Le sigh* He’s such a guy.

“As I was saying. You know that stuff about Free Will I’ve been talking about? Well, suppose that’s the cosmic key to the universe? That earth is a Free Will zone and every life on earth only needs to claim it. I mean we give our will up to the government, banks, doctors, attorneys, lawyers, judges, police, military and don’t get me started on the IRS—”

“No fear of that. I want dinner tonight and we know what happens to those plans when you start talking about their 20 million dollar Star Wars extravaganza.”

“Great! Thanks for reminding me about that. It ties in with what I would do if an EMP attacked happened or was going to happen.”

He sat forward and tilted his head. “Happened? Are you going to shoot that BS about multi-dimensional universes and time travel and pirates and outer worldly vultures who you think have preyed on mankind long enough?”

“Abso-freaking-lutely!”

“I should have poured myself a drink.”

I waved him off and then launched into my brilliant and yet simple plan for the world. “Imagine this.” I have to become animated here or he stares at me like he’s watching paint peel. “There’s those in power who know how the game works – they’ve reached the end of the deck, they’ve played the Trump card and they still don’t like where this is going so they decide to do the EMP attack on America because it’s the world economy really—”

“No, it’s not.”

You see what he does? He cuts into my roll.

I scowl at him. “It’s the biggest consumer economy. Is that better?”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, being that it’s a game, and all have to participate to make it work, the power brokers have decided to jump start things with this kind of attack because their default position is always to create fear. BUT and this is a big but, there are too many people who are onto them. Ten years ago they may have pulled it off easily, but not so well now. Why? Because the swell of THE PEOPLE who are onto them decide to hold them financially responsible for what they’ve done to not only our country – but the entire world. We put our foot down and say that’s enough you have to pay up. We put such an astronomical number on the fine that they will all be broke for the rest of eternity.”

“That sounds pretty predictable to me. Wouldn’t they ignore you?”

“Us you mean. It’s a big collective and no. You see when you claim your FREE WILL they have no power over you in your past lives or future lives. You are no longer an earning product for them so they are without a means to make and attract tradable things of value for the rest of time. But you didn’t let me finish. What if we as a collective say to all those that disrupt and corrupt our planet that they can keep what they so far have collected – providing they didn’t steal or misappropriate those things of value – only if they leave this planet for good without any war, EMP attacks or nuclear attacks. Then THE PEOPLE would be free to live the way they were meant to live on this planet.”

He was silent for a second or two and then he whispered, “I don’t know how you do it.”

There’s me basking in the compliment thinking that I’d just come up with a plausible way to save the planet from the negative energy that is dragging our society down when he added.

“How do you sleep at night with all that crap rolling around in your head?”

Crap?

Rolling?

Nothing rolls around in my head, there’s no room. Every square inch is taken up by random and not so random thoughts – I assure you. To him, I said, “It’s easy. I figure somewhere out there in this sky or the galaxy above, the Creator of Souls is listening to me. And, being that he’s the gifter of FREE WILL he will see the sense in this plan. The only fly in the proverbial “Save the Universe” oil?”

“What?”

“Is that stubborn people like you will look at me like you are now when I tell them.”

That’s when he smiled. A big, bright, smile that reached his eyes. “If I thought something like this was possible, you know I’d be all over it.”

“Sometimes you have to rely on faith alone.”

“I prefer reality.”

And I would have preferred to toss one of the envelopes on the table at him, but, *insert a deep breath here* I smiled back at him instead. Talking through my teeth I told him, “I choose to believe. This is why you and I make such a great pair. The more you deny the possibility of such a thing happening, the more I believe it will happen.”

His eyes widened and he smacked the table. “Unreal. You take the possibility of averting a dramatic fictional cosmic catastrophe and turn it into a husband smack down in the turn of one sentence.”

“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment because doing so requires finesse and talent, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” His smile eased and he sat back. “What would happen if I had taken what you said and embraced it as being possible from the get-go?”

I took a millisecond to think that over and then I didn’t even blink. “I’d suggest you head over to the doctor’s for a check-up. Clearly you’d be sick. I thought we’d already decided decades ago that I was here to save your soul? If you agreed at face value I would consider my job here done.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m glad you’re not the average Joe. I want more people like me to see that this world has some phenomenal secrets. There’s a special kind of magic and right now most of it is being corrupted by people who don’t have the heart or soul to wield it with grace and goodness.”

“Now.” He pointed at me as he nodded. “That I believe.”

You see? Honey does come around. It just takes a special way to deliver the message to him.

*Thinks about that for less than a millisecond when the epiphany comes to me*

Damn, he would have listened to me proclaiming to be the Virgin Mary if I delivered the message sans clothes. *Insert the action of a finger snap here* I wish I had thought of that tactic sooner. It would have saved me some grief. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell him this without stressing him out too much. 😀

So…Anyone else have any great ideas on how to save the planet? The caveat has to be that we get rid of the bad guys who have screwed things up to a fair thee well AND whatever attack they were planning in the first place has to be adverted.

Heheheh. Here’s me with my author mind thinking, if we missed averting the catastrophe we could always bend time and put us back to the moment it happened and stop it from happening. I didn’t mention this to Honey because he has enough to worry about. Did I mention that I’ve got the poor guy fixing the electric/cable stuff in our house? Doesn’t sound so bad, but you have to remember our stuff is in the attic and it’s a cabillion degrees here. I sent him up there a few days ago and forgot to stick around the ladder to make sure he didn’t expire up there.

My bad!

Actually, I felt terrible when he came into the nice cool kitchen looking like he’d just gone for a swim. Poor guy.

As always, thanks for stopping by! And don’t forget to give me a great solution to our save the world challenge – Remember, the key is FREE WILL – Start there and then the person who comes up with the funniest or most creative method to banish the negative and criminal energy from the planet will get their name added three additional times to the big drawing we still haven’t done.

Geez…Caleb and Genevieve are a year older. Boy, do I need to get their story finished!!!!

Riley

Honey, Honey, Honey. HONEY!

Okay, when reading that title you’re supposed to sing it to the tune of, Money, money, money. Money!

Why?

Because Honey is priceless. 😉

Example?

Absolutely, I’m so glad you asked.

Imagine me and Honey lying next to each other in bed. The two of us are staring at the ceiling in the dark, when he whispers, “Are you sleeping?”

*Looks right at you* WTH? We just got into bed, so unless he laced my water with Rohypnol, or knocked me over the head with a brick…? “Nope.”

“Can I ask you something about space? And, I’m begging you, babe, please don’t go off on the topic about how you think we’ve been played by NASA and there’s more going on in our universe than the Space guys are telling us, okay?”

*And now I’m staring owl-eyed at you –kicking my feet in frustration because you guys know me well enough to know that this will never happen without a huge amount of restraint on my part.*

I take a deep breath and deliver the biggest lie ever. “Sure.”

“Ready?”

Honey’s so cute. “Shoot.”

Do you think getting it on in zero gravity would be better than in regular old gravity? Say, an intense vertical floating-in-limbo Mumba for hours?”

I invoke the mighty snow globe here!

Bah! You see? This is why I love Honey. Instead of me launching into the oodles of bones I have to pick with NASA over them “just now” finding seven planets – SEVEN planets! So what? Did they all of a sudden remember to dust off their Hubble telescope? — but yep, I digress. Where was I? Oh yeah. Instead of talking about being ripped off, I was lying there trying to work out the logistics of Honey’s brilliant question. Any of you guys ever thought of space in those terms? Yes? No? Whatcha think about that major 7 planet discovery? Here’s the link if you didn’t see it on the news. Inquiring mind wants to know.

Now for the continuation of our build-a-giveaway. This is what we’ve got so far. (click here) to view.

And this is what we’re adding.

It’s a great game to play with adults and kids. You have to drop the metal ball into the best planet spot. It’s not easy. My suggestion? Buy some cheap scratch-off lottery tickets and challenge the kids to compete to win one them. *Leans in to whisper* If you don’t have the kids for the night? No problem. Sometimes Honey and I play games like this for other kinds of prizes.

*Taps index fingernail on front tooth and thinks not at all* Ah…like the loser has to do all the winners chores the next day.

*Bursts out laughing and lifts a brow at you*

Like I’d every play that game. ‘Nuff said.

Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m still thinking about that zero gravity hook-up. Talk about out of this world!

Exciting times, right? 7 new planets! Have you seen any of NASA’s patches? Interestingly enough, there are 7 stars/planets on them dating back to the 60’s, but I promised Honey I wasn’t going to “go there”. One question, though. I know. Sorry. I can’t help myself.

Were the patch makers psychic or was it a major coinkydink with the 7? Yeah, yeah, I told you, I drive Honey nuts. Fortunately, that fits right in with my evil plans on how I want to spend the rest of my days here on earth. Sucks to be him, poor guy. >:D

Here are a few of the patches. See what I mean?

Wow, it’s been too long. I’ve missed you guys!

Alrighty, you know the drill. If you are a subscriber you’re already entered into the drawing, but if you leave a comment on all the “build-a-giveaway posts” (I think we’re at three and should go to five so keep checking back) your name gets added to the hat for the drawing. With each additional comment. More chances to win. Yay.

Good luck!

My thought for today given that we’re talking about space? I believe the majority of people on this planet prefer to live in a peaceful world, so let’s remove the obstacles and get it done!

So exciting! I understand there are many more innovative technologies to be released over the next few years. Don’t know how they’ll stack up to Honey’s 7 minutes in inertia heaven idea, but I’m thrilled at the prospect, non-the-less.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley

A NEVER DO THIS STORY! AND ADDING TO OUR GIVEAWAY!

 

domestic dispute

Yesterday morning started off harmless enough. I had coffee with Honey and we discussed what we both had planned for the day. But then somehow his plans of going to pick up the furniture I bought at the auction turned into me going with him and then…? Disaster!

*Holds up right hand and solemnly swears*

I so did not know that those cabinets, chests, and wardrobes I purchased were all oversized! But you can bet your sweet *ss the second the three men wheeled the first one onto the loading dock I knew. Not because I got a better look at the pieces in question, but because I got a load of the smoldering fury in Honey’s eyes.

*Looks right at you* It was bad, guys. Very, very, bad.

I could bore you with all the traveling home details surrounding the epic domestic dispute we had, but I’d rather not think about it ever again. Honey was like a broken record with his, “Are you crazy? Where is all this going to go?”

*Leans in to whisper* Just in case you’re wondering, I planned to put all the pieces in my closet. *Scowls as I straighten* Aw, don’t look at me like that. I have faith it will all fit in there. Man, you guys are as pessimistic as Honey. But then that’s not the point of this post today, so I’m going to leave this right here and get to what is.

*Scowls at you as I straighten*

Aw, don’t look at me like that. I have faith it will all fit in there. Man, you guys are as pessimistic as Honey. But then that’s not the point of this post today, so I’m going to leave this right here and get to what is.

DON’T CUT YOUR NOSE OFF TO SPITE YOUR FACE!

That is the theme of today’s post and exactly what I did yesterday. After arguing about the furniture and what I wanted to do with it, Honey said, “I haven’t even painted the room yet. Where do you expect me to put all this until I do?”

I did have some interesting ideas about where he could stick it but don’t ask. I’m sure I’ve mentioned before how I come up with these plans that he calls “crazy”, and then has to apologize to me in the end because they usually turn out be wonderful…well, this is going to be one of those times, but he really wasn’t seeing it. So what did I do? I challenged him. I said I’d paint the closet myself and the furniture that was going into it (because that was the plan for the furniture).

Normally, when we reached an impasse like this he’d sigh and say he’d take care of it, but he wasn’t going to be happy about it. Yesterday? Nothing. Nada. He may have remained silent all right – too bad I saw the “You paint anything? Ha! Oh sure you will.” look written in his still-smoldering eyes which lit a fire under my butt to paint that room and start on the furniture before he got home from work.

*Pulls up a chair and turns it so I have to straddle it backward before I give you the skinny about what kind of mayhem ensued*

If this was a Hollywood movie script I’d be able to say the painting went off without a hitch.

*Sigh*

It didn’t. I got paint on the floor, the walls that weren’t supposed to have this color on them, and paint all over me, and Honey’s favorite brush. Heck, the outside of the paint can had more paint on it than the can had in it by the time I was done.

*Shakes head*

The point here is that I had to finish painting the closet fast, so that I could concentrate on scrubbing the floor, the walls that weren’t supposed to be that color, the can, Honey’s brush, and then myself before he came home. I wanted everything to be perfect and come off appearing to have happened effortlessly.

*Looks right at you*

It was like cleaning up after a crime scene. I could not believe it. Seriously. Two hours to paint, and six to clean up? I’m pretty sure that is not how this is supposed to work.

But there I am when he got home yesterday. I was all clean and shiny with a newly painted closet. Everything was in perfect order. Really. I may have been exhausted and silently swearing to every God that would listen about how I would never – ever challenge Honey over painting, or furniture – again when I see him eyeing his favorite paint brush. The one I’d used and had set across the top of the super clean can of paint I’d meticulously scrubbed clean of all pig-pen evidence.

I was getting a bad feeling when I asked, “What? Why are you smiling?” I feared I’d missed something.

Nothing but his eyes moved when he looked at me. “You made a mess, didn’t you?”

*Side-eyes you* How the hell did he find out? I hope none of you told him. 😉

I narrowed a look at him. “Do you see a mess anywhere? I defy you to find one speck of paint – one drip or drop on the tile. Go look.”

“Don’t need to do that. My brush told me all I needed to know about what went on in this closet today.”

“Oh really?” I figured he was screwing with me so I waved him off. “Is the bristly one an oracle or something?”

“No, but it is the cleanest it’s ever been in the last two years.”

*Stares right at you* Okay, who keeps a brush for two years? And…? &*&%$!! I’d over done it. I overplayed the cleanup hand.

Fantastic.

Moral of the story? If you want to have a “So There!” moment with your significant other over painting a room in the house just so you can rub the paint in his face? Hire a professional to do it and pay them cash so there’s no paper trail, that’s all I’m saying. 😉

Meh, in the end, I had Honey in stitches when I told him about how my painting extravaganza went. When I got to the part where I explained how I could barely hoist the roller up because it was too heavy from all the paint I’d loaded on it, he was chuckling. But then when I got to the part where I’d put that weighty beast on an extension he burst out laughing. I do have to pause here to say, when Honey does this it looks easy so I thought why not, right?

Wrong.

The thing was, the roller end was terribly heavy that when it hit the top of the wall by the ceiling – the idea was for me to gently guide it down, but instead it kind of slid and then before I knew what happened there was a huge paint smear, NOT a roll – down the length of the wall. In fact, the roller hit the floor so hard paint splattered on the tile, me, and the ceiling. That’s what took me so long to clean up.

*Insert a Homer Simpson shudder of remembrance here*

The area where that happened looked like I’d used the paint can as a pinata and blugeoned it with a sharp knife. >.<

What am I doing today? Not painting, I can tell you that! 😀

*Clears throat*

Now, onto better things…

sheep counting

This is the next item to go into the giveaway. We’re less than a week away for my release and drawing! Yay!

Now I know a stuffed little lamb/sheep is an odd thing to add, but there’s a reason I was thinking about this adorable little guy. It’s the same reason I was thinking about the toe ring. It’s pertinent to the story, but before I get to that, here’s a reminder of the other items in the giveaway:

toe ring

Toe ringphoto 2 (61)

Mystery box (you find out what’s inside on drawing day)

002

003

Silver and turquoise cuff bracelet

preview

And a mug with a 25.00 Amazon Gift Card inside

 

Below is a scene in the story that happens after Michaela and James’ story actually starts. The previous scenes I posted dealt with their history together – so this one is in the thick of things in their adult relationship together. Poor James…

TOP

(Excerpt)

 

Michaela closed her bedroom door and fell back against it. Her heart pounded and her adrenaline was high. His desire had been a tangible thing, filling the room and surrounding her at certain points, but he still held back. Why?

She closed her eyes and softly banged her head against the door. If she didn’t get the romantic ball rolling with him soon, her every chance with him could disappear. She hated having to throw Logan in the ring every time to get a reaction from James, but damn, how else could she…?

Suddenly another idea came to her.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the package. Did she dare?

The sounds of James moving around in the room next door cemented her decision. Absolutely. She’d do it.

In fact, by the time she’d washed up, unpacked the box of toys, and had given them a thorough going over, she’d convinced herself that James had really left her with no choice in the matter.

 

 

James got into bed and was determined to push thoughts of his in-name-only wife out of his mind. He was ready to count imaginary sheep, pennies, bouncing balls, real balls—fuck—a picture of himself stationed quite happily between Michaela’s legs as he slammed into her over and over materialized—no.

“Think sheep. Count sheep. Sheep, sheep, sheep,” he whispered. Hoping to use this power of suggestion technique to his advantage. And it was working. He was slowly drifting off to sleep watching the…mechanical sheep? He tried to sink deeper into oblivion by overlooking the gears and metal parts that made the robotic animals leap effortlessly across the starlit landscape in his mind until…

He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Why was he dreaming about mechanical—?

“Oooh…”

That soft moan woke him right up, and when he snapped into a sitting position he knew why he’d been dreaming about machines. Mickey had opened her package and if he didn’t miss his guess, that was a Hitachi humming away.

“Unfucking believable.” He fell back in a sprawl and blinked through the darkness. One upside? She wouldn’t last long. That monster had some serious power.

“Ummm…”

Her deep and elongated purr got him instantly hard, but he ignored the inconvenience and enjoyed the ensuing silence for a second or two before he shifted onto his side and punched his pillow a few times. Finally satisfied, he muttered under his breath, “Called it.” That whole pleasuring session had barely lasted a minute, thank Christ. For once he was praising a woman who liked to rush things.

Bzzzzzzzz…

He was in hell. He had to be. The second time took longer than the first, but her moans were shorter and more breathy.

Not good.

He rolled over onto his back when everything went silent again. Seriously ready to put the last hour behind him when…?

Bzzzzzzz…

He sat up and raked a hand through his hair. This was worse than hell and she needed a spanking for putting him through it. He tore off his covers and was just about to get up and march to the door when the sight of his hardened cock stopped him.

He couldn’t go chase her down sporting an erection with her name on it.

Brilliant.

He fell back onto the mattress for the second time tonight and—what was he doing? Why was he fighting this? How long had been since he’d jerked off without help from an accommodating sub? Too long, and that dry spell was going to break pronto.

He did a little brush-over meet and greet, after all, it had been a while, and then he took hold of his shaft with a firm grip.

Not too bad.

“Oh. Oh. Oh.”

Yeah, he’d take her lust-fueled whispers and use them to their best advantage as he tightly fisted himself and pumped.

The speed of the vibrator was kicked up a notch, he could tell. The increased speed elicited another “Hmmm…” out of her.

He pumped harder.

And then harder.

And when she huskily cried out this time he came so hard his cock pulsed in his palm as if it was trying to escape his grip, while white-hot shots of come jetted out of him.

He paid less attention to the end result than he did to examining the beginning, or middle as it were, and didn’t like what he saw there.

Him, having rough sex with himself.

If that didn’t beat all.

Bzzzzzzz…

“Oh, fuck no,” he whispered. He shifted his head on the pillow and stared at the door that separated their rooms. Her light was on and then…?

“Yes, yes, yes.”

He heard her soft little whispers and knew it was game-on for her again. That’s when he shrugged and readjusted. Why the hell not? At least he wouldn’t be stuck counting mechanical sheep for the rest of the night.

This time when he got himself off, all his thoughts were focused on an image of Michaela. Her, in those red stilettos, bending over for him while he slowly took down her pretty lingerie and spanked her ass for touching what was his. For abusing his property with the Hitachi.

Only he was allowed to do that.

The last image he had of her, just before he ferociously came a second time, was her on her knees, between his legs, begging him for forgiveness, and sucking him off while she worked hard to maintain eye contact with him because he didn’t make it easy for her.

“Damn…”

“James? Did you say something?”

He opened his eyes and shot a look to the door. Wholly relieved when he saw the door was still closed. She must have called to him.

“No. Good night, Mickey,” he called back.

“Mike.”

“Beauty.”

He thought he heard her mutter, “Jackass,” but he was too tired to argue the point. Maybe he’d bring it up tomorrow.

Maybe…

(End)

So you guys know the drill. If you’re a subscriber, you are already entered for a chance to win, but every time you post a comment to one of the giveaway posts your name gets added to the hat again. Good luck! I can’t wait for you to meet James and Michaela!

In other news stuff: If you’re a blogger and want to sign up for a tour you can click here. If you are on

If you’re a blogger and want to post this on release day, see details and sign up here

If you’re a blogger who would like to sign up for a review tour of Stare Him Down you can find details and sign up click here.

If you are a reader on Goodreads and want to add this one to your “to read” pile you can click here.

And, if you’d like to enter for a chance to win a first edition autographed print copy of this book, click here.

As always, thanks for stopping by!

Riley

 

 

 

 

 

You know you’re too old to try false eyelashes when…and we’ll be adding to our giveaway!!!

domestic dispute

You know you’re too old to try false eyelashes when…

When, you ask?

Well, when you purchase the bodacious lid enhancers to freak your husband out with your new fountain-of-youth bat-wing lashes, only to discover you didn’t buy the glue you needed to put them on but had inadvertently picked up the adhesive remover you needed to take them off instead.

*Looks right at you with me own eyelashes, not batting*

Total bummer.

That’s when I realized the only problem with age is you need your reading glasses to distinguish the labeling on the packaging you’re intending to buy. How can one dip their toe into the spring-of-recaptured adolescence if you’re practically legally blind? *Le sigh*

So what started this quest for the bodacious batters in the first place? Simple. I saw a commercial where this model had these cool looking lashes and I thought since I bought the pink hair *Leans in to whisper to you behind a cupped hand* that’s another story I’ll tell you about later this month – I could use them. Man, I was so looking forward to having my spotlight moment. I had it all planned. Honey was supposed to come home and do what he always does.

Wait, let me script how I saw this going down in my head for you.

Honey arriving home. “Babe, I’m home.”

And there’s me. I’m dressed in my snazzy, and sure-to-catch-his-attention, outfit, anxiously waiting behind our new bedroom doors to make a grand entrance. Honey always calls twice if I don’t answer him the first time.

“Babe? You home?”

See? 😉

“Yes, I’m right here,” I say as I regally part the two doors and walk out of our room looking like a pink-haired Marilyn Monroe <- Hey it’s my fantasy so I shall just carry on with the outrageous lie while I imagine those bodacious lashes batting at him with the perfect come-hither look.

Which will, of course, force Honey to his knees so he can worship me like the sex goddess I am.

Damn straight.

*Looks away and then looks right back at you* You see? It would have been so perfect if only I’d bought the glue, and stuck to the workout schedule I promised I do every day from the time I was twenty-two on. If so, I may have pulled off some semblance of worship-worthy smexxy.*snap*

*Snap*

Wait I still have the hair, right?

But then, to tell you the truth, the pink hair was bought for something else entirely. Funny story about that. When I showed my daughter the hair she started to sing that Corey Hart song. You know the one that goes like this?

“I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can…”

There I am staring at her, and then at the hair in my hand, returning to scowl at her when I say, “What the heck are you singing that for?”

She didn’t even blink, but she did give me a cheeky smile. “That hair is so bright anyone that sits with you will have to wear their shades.”

*Pulls down the readers I should have been wearing when I went to the beauty supply place to buy the lashes and glue, and eyes you over them* Fortunately, I didn’t want to sit with Honey if you know what I mean, but I couldn’t tell her that. She still thinks her Dad and I experienced the Immaculate Conception twice, with the arrival of her brother and then her three years later. 😉

Oh and here’s another funny story. Not about the hair, about Honey. Well…eventually about the hair, but I digress. I walked into the family room the other day and stopped. Why? Honey’s watching a soap opera. Interesting, right? But what was even more fascinating was the fact that it was in Spanish.

*Side-eyes you* Honey can’t speak a lick of it. So yeah, I had to ask. Here’s the conversation:

“Whatcha doing?”

“Watching a soap.”

He says this like it’s something he does every day. Which, you know, he never has. At least for as long as I’ve known him and that’s like more than a couple of decades. *shakes head*

I point out the obvious. “It’s in Spanish.”

He sagely nods. “Yeah, I figured it was about time I learned how to speak the language of love.”

*Turns my head this time to look at you while one of my brows lifts in a dubious manner.* He intends to learn a new language – of love no less – by watching a soap opera? Color me impressed.

I leaned over the top of the couch and bent to put my arms around his neck for a loose hug. “Okay, tell me what’s going on in the show.”

I fully expected him to say something like, “This chick started screaming at the guy with the long hair…” Or something equally as non-committal and what do I get instead? A whole dissertation about this cast of characters. Of what’s happened to them, how they’re feeling – yeah, I about died when he began running down the options of maybe this particular woman was crying because it wasn’t the guy she loves baby, or it’s because it was his baby and she may have to marry a different guy. There I am listening to him while he’s pointing out each character and sharing their story and it came to me. Honey was watching this Spanish soap opera like I read a new book with my author cap on. I tend to pay close attention to the smallest details trying to guess where the writer is going to go next with the story.

With Honey and this show? He had to pay closer than normal attention to the scenes because he wasn’t being spoon-fed the details of what was going on in English. Wow. He might have been onto something here.

A second later I realize maybe I was too! Why? This Latin God of luscious perfection arrives on the screen. I mean the guy is perfect for me. Not rob-the-cradle-ish-too-close-to-my-son’s-age, but you know, a little older, in mucho perfection-o shape, and he even had defined laugh lines around his eyes. It’s very rare that I find a perfect combination with all my likes so, I wiped the drool from lips, and said, “Wow, what’s that guy’s story?”

Bah! Honey tilts his head to the side to look at me. We stare at each other for a milli-second and then he deadpans. “He gave the pregnant woman herpes and now they’re going to have cut off his *ick.”

Har, har, har! Honey cracks me up.I straightened and then shrugged. “Who cares about that? The guy’s got great hands, great eyes, and what a mouth. I’d let him pleasure me.”

I straightened and then shrugged. “Who cares about that? The guy’s got great hands, great eyes, and what a mouth. I’d let him pleasure me.”

The minute I saw the remote in the air heading to the one of the cushions on the couch I knew I better start running. And I did. I got as far as the hall, almost to the living room – when Honey caught me from behind and started tickling me. He may have been trying to get me to take back what I said, or maybe he was insisting I cry uncle, who knows and it really doesn’t matter. Why? Because now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, weren’t the bodacious bat-wing lashes supposed to deliver the fountain of youth to me? Meh, I don’t need that kind of small application when I have a fountain of youth force like Honey to reckon with every day. Prime example.  This is what happened last night. All I did was tell him it was time to hit the hay.

I said, “Come you, it’s late. It’s time for bed.”

And do you know what he said to me? “Make me.”

Heh. Being the grown up I am, I simply gave him a withering look and walked off. But when I reached the hall I completely behaved like an adolescent when I called, “Okay, suit yourself. Stay up all night if you like, but you’ll miss your wife wearing nothing but hot pink hair and a smile.”

*Stares right at you* I can honestly say I have never seen the TV and lights turn off so fast before. Sheesh!

Men!

Oh, before I sign off I want to add something to our build-a-giveaway. I love this bracelet. It has a spring opening and it’s hard to tell from the pictures, but it’s shiny silver with very pretty turquoise enamel in it. It’s a fun piece for spring. You all remember what else is up from grabs so far? Right?

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And these items: Chocolates, a mug…

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And a 25.00 Amazon gift card

You guys know the drill. Leave a comment and your name gets added extra times to the hat. If you’re one of my subscribers you’re already added, but if you leave a comment on our giveaway posts – you double or triple your chances. We’ll be doing the giveaway when Stare Him Down releases in April. I can’t wait for you guys to meet James and Michaela.

I love them so hard!

SHD cover thin size

As always, thanks for stopping by.

Riley