On August 14th of 2003, the east coast of the United States was hit by a massive power failure. I remember it well. Fear was rampant at first, with thoughts that it might be another terrorist attack. The power grid explanation was more soothing, but not more comforting. People in Ohio, Michigan, New York, New Jersey, and other states all the way up to and including Canada were without power for days.

I remember that it was hot. I remember the uncertainty. The city I live in had no electricity, no water service, no working sewage system, no public transportation. It was like a bad dream.

Now multiply that bad dream times a thousand, and think of the people hit by Katrina. Not only all of the above, but no home, very little food, no idea what will become of you and your family, if they even managed to survive. Think of the sick, the elderly, the children, those still trapped, and put yourself in their place.

Please do whatever you can to help. Contact your local charitable organizations and ask what you can do. CNN has a link set up with info on how to help. Whether it’s donating blood, money, food, or offering prayers. Anything.

Please.

(and no, I haven’t forgotten my promise…I plan to post new excerpts from other stories I’ve written either today or tomorrow…but this was more important to me).

There once was a lass with a dream,
she set at it, her eyes all agleam,
can she make the deadline,
with lots of bromine,
and the sense that she’s swimming upstream?

Thus the weblog–alas!–it must wait,
’til this manuscript business is straight;
but lift a glass for a toast,
for coming next post,
Suspense and Seduction awaits!

Sometimes the fixings are as good as the cake. If not better. And I like to lick the spoon.

You know what I mean.
After creaming the room-temperature butter, you’d add the sugar. Yummm. I was ready to lick the spoon already. Then add eggs and beat until fluffy. Ummm. Forget the spoon, I’ll use my fingers. A little flour to stiffen it up & get it to rise–then the flava. The vanilla made it sing.
Hell, even before it went in the oven, I was ready to eat it out of the BOWL.

I once queried an agent for a full-length ms. She asked to see my first 15 pages. I was thrilled. She returned the entry, unfortunately, and wrote on the cover page: “Excellent voice, characters, dialogue. But you take too long to get to the sex, dear.”
Now, I understand if you’ve only got 10-20 pages to work with, you’ve gotta get off to a running start. And unplanned jackrabbit sex can be VERY hot.

But in a 380 page novel, my complete strangers were supposed to have sex in the first 15 pages??!

I love erotica. Love writing it (among other things). I applaud the way the genre is taking off, and it’s about time.
But personally, I like a little foreplay. I want to taste the ingredients of the attraction before full-blown heat is applied. It’s a personal preference, and I can certainly appreciate the cake both ways, lol!

But give me a little sweetness, a little mixin’ it up, a little flava before you shove the thing in the oven.

I like to lick the spoon.

THIS:
Pat Robertson is suggesting that the U.S. assassinate the president of Venezuela.
Who needs that pesky ol’ sixth commandment anyway, eh, Pat?

THAT:
And I applaud Cindy Sheehan for wanting to know exactly why her son had to die. Kinda curious about that myself.
Shame on this administration for not listening to the people they supposedly represent. And shame on those who are taking advantage of this to further their own political agendas.

Beyond this or that—I’m doing final revisions on the ms that will possibly be released in October. It’s tentative title is “Wolfe’s Gate”.
Yesterday I loved it.
Today I don’t.
Tomorrow? I’ll still be writing. It’s a disease.

This is my first post under the category Adventures In La-La Land.

It’s a place I visit frequently. Partly because I go to work regularly.
But most of the time, La-La Land comes to visit me. It’s an unusual, exciting place, where strange things happen to strange people, and all of Newton’s physical laws are suspended as Murphy’s take over.
And best of all—-IT’S ALL TRUE!!

So, I’ve been working long, working hard. I’m on the last chapter of this manuscript. I get up & stretch–it’s time for a break. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door…

There’s a young man there. Maybe 23-24, kinda short, bandy-legged white guy. Hair slicked across his head, wearing shorts, tank-top teeshirt. And carrying two apples from my tree in back in his hand.
“How ya doin’, ma’am?” I detect something like a West Virginia twang. “Was wonderin’ if you were lookin’ for someone to do some grass cutting for ya.”
Does my yard look that bad? Yes.
That’s because I HAVE TO FINISH THIS LAST BLOODY CHAPTER!! So it’ll have to stay that way until the novella is finished.
“No, thank you”, I say pleasantly, silently making sure the screen door between us is locked. “I’ve got it covered.”
“Oh, okay then…need your bushes trimmed?”
I’m getting that little prickly feeling at the nape of my neck that I write so often into my characters. Was there a hint of sexual innuendo there?

Do my bushes need trimming?
Yes. But it’ll have to wait until the novella is finished.

“Um, no, not today,” I murmur. “Thanks.”
He’s still standing there, holding tightly onto MY apples. He nods, gives a little smile. “Okay, I understand. How about a massage?”

I blink. And blink again. For some reason I look behind me, like I’m looking to see if anybody else heard the same thing I did. My cat’s not reacting, so I must’ve heard wrong. “Excuse me?”
“Would you like a massage? See, I just moved here, & I’m trying to help my Grandmother by earning a buck or two. And I really was almost certified for massage therapy, but I missed the last couple of classes and the final exam. But I AM qualified, really I am.”
Missed the last two classes, eh? Those must’ve been the ones that explained that professional masseurs don’t go door-to-door drumming up business.

I’m feeling rather stunned about this whole thing. My witty response is something like, “uhhh…”
“I’m really good at it. I promise.” Another smile. “Maybe ten, fifteen dollars?”

I know it’s been an eternity–but do I really LOOK like it’s been that long since I got layed??!
Yes. But it’ll have to wait until the novella is finished.

I’m thinking fast. The gun’s in the bedroom, butcher knife in the kitchen. One hard yank, & he could probably force my cheap-assed screen door open. I smile sweetly. “Thanks anyway, but I don’t need a massage. My bushes could use trimming, but it’ll have to wait until my novella’s finished.”

He looks truly disappointed. “Okay,” he murmurs, and, palming my ripe, golden apples, he quietly leaves.
I know he left. I made a point of watching out the window.

Geez…I remember when young people sold magazine subscriptions…

The end is in sight!!!

The novella is nearly finished!! Should have the handful of pages left done by tomorrow night, with still a few days to tweak the ms!!!! There IS light at the end of the tunnel!!
I love the plot, LOVE the hero, and the tone. And I LOVE the sound of a sigh of relief, lol!

I’m really not being blog-lazy. Really I’m not.

I have a deadline. My very first!
I’ve already decided I don’t like them.
Even though I’m sure I’ll make it, I’m stressing. If I say I’ll do something, I will, come hell or high water.
But I’m still stressing.

So I’m throwing out a question…

What do you all eat when you’re facing a deadline?
It’s not a trivial question. Even though you know you should, you don’t really wanna take the time out to prepare a MEAL, now do you??!

And it doesn’t necessarily have to be a writing deadline. Any kind of deadline.
A work deadline.
An ‘I owe the bookie or he’ll break my legs’ deadline.
An ‘I have a date to get laid in fifteen minutes, but haven’t eaten a thing’ deadline.
A pick-the-kids-up deadline, report due deadline, must read this book before final exam deadline—ANY kind.

I’ll start. I have less than two weeks to get this story to the publisher.
Keebler Townhouse Crackers are a big staple right now. Add a little canned cheese spread, a multiple vitamin–and who needs to waste valuable time cooking??!!