Santa Baby

The past few years I've counted down the days to Christmas with a new sexy Santa pic every day. Well this year I decided to do something different. Instead of sexy, how about a whole different kind of warm fuzzy feelings?

It's Z's second Christmas, and his first one that he can actually participate in. He still doesn't know what's going on, but hey, half the fun is for us at this point. This first pic is of Z with Santa last year. He was only a couple of weeks old. Below it is this years, he's grown just a bit.

That's "Brown Bear" Santa is holding. Z doesn't go anywhere without Brown Bear except to sleep. Then it's all about Heffelump the musical elephant.

So to you from us, Merry Christmas.

Christmas is coming!

Two days to Christmas and I’m feeling something I haven’t felt in a long time; excitement over the holiday. Oh, it’s always nice to visit family and I love the bright shiny colors and the lights.

What’s more I love the feeling that seems to invade many people during this season. We all have horror stories of rude people and the nastiness that can end up as part of the quest for commercial side of the holidays. But there is also the other side. People are freer to smile at strangers in the mall or on the streets. They think of others and charitable donations are at their highest this time of the year.

There is something about the season that makes us think of family and open ourselves to joy and goodness. The flowers on the church alter seem more beautiful. The candles seem to burn more brightly. The music seems sweeter.

And this Christmas just seems to be even more of everything. I’m not sure if that makes sense. Maybe it’s being a new Mom. Maybe it’s having a little one and being able to foresee the experience of seeing it all through his eyes again.

Z will be less than three weeks old when Christmas comes this year. But we are still celebrating for him. He has a stocking that most likely will remain unstuffed this year, but it is hanging by the fireplace. We have tree up in our living room, it’s small but it is decorated and presents sit beneath it. We know he won’t be able to enjoy any of the presents for a couple of months, but there are still three presents wrapped with bows for him.

Today we were at the thrift shop, we were looking for a second bouncy seat and a second swing to leave at the sitter’s. (We found someone we think will be great, a retired nurse who will have Z as her only little one.) I found a small plate that says “Cookies for Santa”. It’s adorable.

Changing topics completely, I recently finished Anny Cook’s Magnolia and One Thousand Brides by Solange Ayre. Magnolia, part of the Flowers of Camelot series, was exactly what you’d expect from Anny Cook, hilarious and hot. One Thousand Brides was a great treat. It was a fascinating story about a woman, part of 1000 human women, who was abducted by an alien species to be their new brides after a plague kills their women. I highly recommend both books from Ellora’s Cave.

Brain Dead Blog

Okay, this is a brain dead blog today. I'm so tired that all I can manage today is an excerpt and the last of my promised seven Santas.

Excerpt for Access Denied, now available at http://www.cerridwenpress.com/productpage.asp?ISBN=9781419911330


He stood there, looking into her eyes, searching for something. She didn’t know if he found it, but in the next moment his head lowered and his lips touched hers. The soft feel of them brushing over her mouth made her head spin. She felt his beard scrape against her skin and the flesh seemed to come alive. His arm slipped around her waist and he pulled her close as he continued to press his kiss deeper. As she let her arms wrap around his chest and gave in to the need to kiss him back, she heard a piece of her soul cry out in joy and another more somber piece painfully whisper,

You had to let yourself love him. You are well and truly damned, and this time there will be no escape.

She couldn’t remember a kiss ever feeling or tasting so good. Not that there had been a lot of them in her life, but not even… well, no one had made her feel the way James was making her feel as he used his tongue to urge her lips apart. Stop this, her mind warned, stop this before you can’t stop it. But she wasn’t listening. She opened her mouth to him and felt the rough velvet slip past her lips and explore her with increasing insistence.

James’ arm tightened and his free hand rested on the slope of her hip. Slowly he brushed it up her side, over the fullness of her curves. She expected him to stop, to pull away at the reality of touching her, but he didn’t. His hand skimmed the outer curve of her breast and moved up to cradle her face. He responded to the shudder that moved through her by sighing against her lips.

He coaxed her tongue to follow his as it retreated and she eagerly complied. Brushing over the full lips, she felt the hairs of his beard scratch at her face as she tilted her head to claim the inside of his mouth. James’ body reacted with a jerk and suddenly both arms now pulled her tight to him. One hand slipped up her spine and crushed her against his chest. The other curved over her hips and pressed them against him.

James broke the kiss to draw in a ragged breath. He was looking down at her and she could see the unspoken question in his eyes. One she had never believed she would ever see again in any man’s eyes, least of all these golden spheres. He lifted his hand from her back and ran his fingers down her cheek, moving softly across her jaw and then trailing along the skin of her neck. He pushed back the collar on the flannel nightshirt and bent his head low to follow the path of his fingers with his lips. He paused, hovering next to her ear.

“Leah” he whispered her name softly and she felt the jolt of the touch of his tongue as it brushed the curve of her ear. Her body responded with a deepening of the need she was feeling for him.

But her mind reacted with fear.

Never Leah, do you understand. Never. It was her father’s voice, the only time he had ever been harsh or firm with her. A few days after she had reached menarche and her mother had explained the physical side of love to her, her father had taken her for a long walk in the woods. It is not for those like us, Leah. We do not play at love. Your sister, your brothers, your friends, they may experiment, they may play with the carnality between men and women, but not you. We are different, Leah. His fingers had gripped her arm painfully, forcing her to take her passive, easy-going father deadly serious. Head my warning, Leah. Make no mistake. Play that game and you will never know happiness.

Her father’s voice in her head broke the last of her resistance. She put her hands against James’ chest and pushed him away. He did not release her, but eased his hold to let her put some space between their bodies. She drew a deep breath and looked up into the eyes still darkened by his want. No words would come and all she could do was shake her head. James’ hands fell to his sides and he stepped away, turning from her. Standing there staring at his back, the only thing she could think to say was, “I’m sorry,” before she, herself, turned and left the room.

Standing with her back to the coolness of her closed bedroom door, she let the tears begin to fall. This was something new, something she didn’t understand. This had never happened to her before. Never had the voice in her head failed her as it did now. All her life she had spent reaching people with affection and compassion; friends, family, everyone. Each of the men who had drifted into her life these past couple of years she had handled the same. Each time she had tapped into their friendship, their warmth. She had never believed she could excite passion in a man and had never attempted to do so, instead she tried to reach his heart.

But with James her world was tumbled over. She couldn’t understand the want, the desire she had felt in him just now. Suddenly she found she could reach his body, but knew she’d never be able to reach his heart. She was the love of my life, Leah. There’s never been anyone in my life like her, before or since. You didn’t get much clearer or final than that.

And Now:

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Seven Seductive Santas

Champaigne Santa is still my favorite, but our final Santa is rather a fine bit of eye candy. Still, I can't help but think how itchy that shoot must have been.

Have a happy holiday everyone. May your own Santas be as sweet, generous and sexy as you wish.

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Just like Alexander, I too have terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. Like today. I'm stuck in the media center (middle school-ese for library) because my kids are doing research papers. Normally this isn't a problem except that someone forgot and had a vase of carnations. I'm not someone with many allerergies but I have a very serious one to carnations. No other flowers. And I do mean serious, stop breathing serious.

So they are there this morning, they remove them but the damage is done. So I take my inhalers, take Benedryl and try to get through it. By third hour I'm so tired I'm holding up my head on my hand to stay upright. My tongue is still swollen and I'm talking like Elmer Fudd.

Good news? I get to do it again tomorrow. Yippee.

And now:

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Seven Seductive Santas

Santa #6 seems to need a bit of a rest, odd for one so young. I still maintain #4 was my favorite so far. The final Santa will be sliding down the chimney tomorrow.

Not so Christmasy Day

Sorry, no warm heartfelt memories of Christmases today and this blog may end up being TMI for some folks (too much information) but damn it, it's what's in my head.

The main design flaw in God's creation is the lack of a reproductive off switch. Think how useful this would be. I mean this beyond the idea of unplanned or unwise pregnancies -admit it, we all know someone who should not be allowed to reproduce. I'm talking about the unnecessary inconvenience and down right painful experience no reproducing women experience on a monthly basis.

I don't have children. I will never have children. So why on earth do I need to have a menstrual cycle? Why can't I simply shut off my uterus? I don't mind if my ovaries work -or attempt to in my case. I can use the estrogen. But why do I need a uterine lining every month that is only going to cause me a great deal of pain?

Oh, I've tried to rid myself of this menace only to be told by my doctors that since my reproductive system isn't "unhealthy" (and having Polycystic Ovarian Disease isn't considered unhealthy?) removing said reproductive system would be "elective surgery." Not covered by insurance. Bastids!

Don't mind me. No I'm not PMSing. I don't have PMS. I'm MSing and it sucks!

But now, on to more appealing things.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Seven Seductive Santas

Santa Nick is a cutie. Check back tomorrow for Santa #3.

Do you want to win some fantastic holiday reading? If so come celebrate the Twelve days of Romance with 12 authors from Ellora's Cave, Wild Rose Press, Total-E-Bound and Cerridwen Press. Each day beginning December 8th and running through December 19th one of the twelve authors will tell what their "True love gave to them" on either their blog or website.

Collect all twelve answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with 12 days of Romance in the subject line to win some great books. There will be three lucky winners. The prizes –

1st prize--6 books

2nd prize--4 books

3rd prize--2 books

All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Anny Cook Winter Hearts
Sandra Cox Boji Stones
Bronwyn Green Ronan’s Grail
Heather Hiestand Cards Never Lie
Barbara Huffert Deal of a Lifetime
Amarinda Jones Mad About Mirabelle
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Cindy Spencer Pape Cowboy’s Christmas Bride
Brynn Paulin Fallen
Jacquéline Roth Access Denied
KZ Snow Mrs. Claws
Lacey Thorn Earth Moves