Good Reads and Long Waits

I just finished reading Cheryl Dragon’s book I’m Okay, You’re a Fake. I absolutely loved it. The characters are strong and well written. The secondary characters are complex and fascinating. I love when an author can develop a character that is so engaging that it evokes an emotional response from me. And this did. Without giving much away I seriously wanted to slip into Dragon’s world for a moment and smack Mary-Lou (the socialite next-door). She’s not a bad character, but seriously needs a good slap in the head. If you’ve not discovered this series by Dragon, the first was titled I’m Okay, You’re Dead, you need to make an effort to. The books are available in both trade paper and e-book formats. (Link)

Also, if you’re looking for something a bit racier that will definitely get your blood pounding and have you fidgeting in your chair take a look at Brynn Paulin’s print edition of Brotherly Bonds. This is the collected stories of the Cress brothers that were originally released as separate e-books. Why am I touting this if it’s not new? Because this is one of the best collections of erotica I think you could lay your hands on, especially with a well portrayed BD/SM subtext. I was so taken with these individual stories that I read my way through them quickly and was thrilled to find out that Ellora’s Cave was compiling them into one print volume. So if you’re someone who doesn’t rush out for e-books, now’s your chance to get them in print. (Link)

It’s the day after Halloween. Around here all that really means is another day, this one spent cleaning the living room. It’s amazing how much hair a dog can shed and not be bald yet. I swear my Cavalier sheds so much that we could start a business knitting her fur into clothing. And yes, we know it’s her because she’s the only one with dark hair.

I spent three hours this past week standing in line to vote. It was one of the most startling things I’ve experienced in a while. Usually early voting means small lines and little waiting. Not this year. This year I voted at the Cobb Galleria Mall. This is a small exclusive mall in my county that had the open space to set up a polling place. It was preferable to many of the other places where the lines meant standing outside. In this case the lines wrapped up and down the hallways of the indoor mall. The line moved fairly steadily but was so long it was still a three hour wait. I swear the line had to have been more than a mile long as it wound around and around down each passageway of the building.

The good points? I got to vote. I got to scope out some really cute handbags and the most adorable little bomber jacket in little kid size. There was a food court and everyone was pretty cool about allowing folks to zip out of line and grab a bite, especially when I was there from 5pm until after 8pm. I also had enough time to finish the above mentioned book while waiting.

The bad? The wait. After working I had to stand on my feet for 3 solid hours. Not the most comfortable thing when you’re still in your work clothes. Then there were the stupid comments from people who where also waiting in line. One young professional man was pontificating on how it was unfair for the ballot to be read to those who didn’t speak English and how this meant they got to go to the front of the line as being someone who “needed assistance to vote.” He repeatedly griped about how if you couldn’t read or couldn’t read English you shouldn’t be allowed to vote and should “go back where you came from.” I’m pretty sure the only thing that saved him from getting told off or worse was the presence of the police and the fact that after 3 hours in line no one wanted to jeopardize their chance to vote.

Jim Crowe anyone? How is it we’ve gotten to this point as a society and still have such stupid people amongst us? I agree that the United States is an English speaking country. Just like our ancestors, those who come here in this century should be encouraged to learn the language. You don’t go to France and expect people to accommodate your English. You wouldn’t move to Mexico and expect people to accommodate your English. Or maybe that’s the problem. We would. Have we become less of a melting pot and more of a sampler tray? What do you think?

Don’t forget Anny Cook, Kelly Marstad and Sandra Cox. Bronwyn Green also has good things to say.

Hair, men and other stuff

Tomorrow I'll announce how to go about winning the ruby and diamond necklace that marks the release of Lovers' Stone later this week. I promise it won't be too hard. I'm all about simple and will definitely make this simple.

I wrote a couple of months ago about three books by Brynn Paulin that had given me a wonderful new perspective on the Dominant/submissive lifestyle within the BDSM community. Paulin's erotic romances gave me a lot to think about when it came to the dynamics and the depth of feeling between people who lived the lifestyle and didn't just engage in some recreational spankies and tie me ups/tie me downs. Her stories about the Cress brothers, Ryan, Max and Theo were just as filled with love, affection and respect as any romance. The true distribution of power, how much control the submissive actually has in the situation was surprising. And I thought I'd read all the Cress brother books. I was wrong. It was announced recently that all of the Cress brother's books would be going into print as an anthology called Brotherly Bonds in the next few months. As I looked over the announcement I discovered that Paulin had released the story of the youngest Cress brother, Josh.

I don't know how I missed it because Josh was definitely an intriguing guy just from his supporting role. The family rebel, pierced in ways and places that made his brother's wince, the computer expert did things his own way. And after reading Gentle Control I can tell you that even the way he lives his D/s lifestyle is different than his brothers. That I found Josh's story to be incredibly erotic, and the depth of emotion that Paulin is so skilled at communicating was no surprise. What did catch me off guard was how identifiable the situations in Josh's story were and how incredibly appealing this Dom was even to a nice, tame, butterscotch pudding reader. (Not quite vanilla, but not getting too wild there, either.) Those who might hesitate to pick up a BDSM content will, I think, still be drawn to and delight in this book. Josh is a keeper. His dominance is powerful, loving and gentle, just as advertised.

Some authors I know and I were discussing a variety of things on a chat loop yesterday. As is want to happen when you get romance and erotica writers together, we occasionally share our inspirations and attitudes about men. We have even been known to support each other's muses with bits of eye candy to perk up that boring day. In the course of this conversation and exchange of interesting photographs came the question of men and hair. Now this arises on two levels.

First hair length. Some women find a nice clean cut short cut to be sexy and some love long flowing locks. Myself I fall somewhere in the middle. Just at or below the collar, looking like he just missed his last haircut is about perfect for me. I always worry that a guy with hair too long will take too much time in the bathroom and use up all my conditioner. Just kidding, but extra long hair, for me is about equal to the short cropped buzz cut look. Neither really gets my engines revved.

Second on the issue of hair arose the conundrum of manscaping. A good number of the pictures out there of sexy men and 99.9% of all romance cover models sport the smooth chest look. For some guys this is natural and that's fine. The part that puzzles me is the guys who naturally have hair on their chests but choose to wax it. And based on my diligent research of the photographic evidence available, far too many of them are also manscaping a good bit lower. When did we decide as a society that men should all be smooth? Give me a guy with a nice sprinkling of hair on his chest, even a bit on the abs, and for heaven's sake, guys, don't deprive us of the inspiration of the treasure trail. But smooth or hair, guys the sexiest thing of all is just to be real.

Well that's my two cents, anyway. I'm wondering what everyone else thinks. Where do you come down on this issue?

Make sure you check out the blogs of Anny Cook, Amarinda Jones, Kelly Kirch and Brynn Paulin. You'll be glad you did.

Seeing Double

Contest first!

Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire?

Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website.

Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –
1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle

Tonight's Guy:

Luke Ursine
Were
Occupation: Has a degree in architecture, but spends his time rehabbing old homes.
Age: 154 (looks 28-29)
Story: Appears first in Mating Stone by Elyssa Edwards from Ellora’s Cave. His own story is told in Lovers’ Stone to be released in July ’08.

His own brother refers to him as Lucas “screw the whole world and everyone in it” Ursine. And for a good many years that’s been the side of him the world, especially his twin brother Mark and his clan, have seen. The breach between the twins goes back decades and is wrapped inextricably around a family tragedy that claimed the lives of the two people who meant the most to them both. Luke can’t forgive Mark for his part in what happened, but he has never forgiven himself either.

Intelligent and wicked, Luke delights in rubbing people the wrong way. The only person left in his world he’ll listen to is his aging human grandmother, Giselle. He still does exactly what he wants, but he’d do almost anything to keep from upsetting her. Anything but let Mark challenge their grandfather for power. Anything but let Mark ascend to the role of Amar of the clan. Not even his respect for Giselle will stop him if Mark tries to take power.

Excerpt from Mating Stone:

Her heart was fluttering and she willed her overly vivid imagination to stop before it got carried away imagining all sorts of bizarre scenarios. “What is going on here? Why did you lock that door?”

The brown eyes rolled and he gave an amused snort. “Woman believe me, this is where you want to be right now.”

“Why? What’s happening out there?”

Luke closed his eyes, boredom pouring from him. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know what’s happening.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t,” the fear was growing and starting to fuel a flame of anger. “What is Mark doing and why do I need you to protect me?” Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it thud, especially when her own ears heard just how frightened she sounded.

One eye opened and looked at her. Luke sat up, swinging his long legs back to the floor and stared at her as if she had a puzzle written across her face. “It’s not possible,” he muttered softly. “Mark isn’t this stupid.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded.

Luke stood and began to pace the room. He paused, “She’s wearing the pendant. He has to have told her. He wouldn’t hide this from his mate.” Luke shook his head slowly, “Would he?” he seemed to be talking to himself so she stood silently watching him as he began to pace again. After several minutes he stopped at the far end of the room and turned to look straight at her. Faster than she had ever seen anyone move, he closed the distance between them, grasped her left hand and turned it palm up. The oath he uttered was loud and coarse.

She tried to control the tremble of fear that was making her knees weak and shaky. She bit down to keep her lip from quivering noticeably. Luke stared into her eyes for a long moment. “You really don’t know what’s happening, do you?” The awe in his voice gave way to a flash of fury as he thrust her hand away and dropped back down onto the sofa. “By all that’s holy, you really don’t know.” Sarah watched him shake his head. “Oh my brother, you’re not only a fool, you’re an unmitigated ass to boot.”

“Mark isn’t a fool or an ass.”

She was rewarded by a derisive snort of angry mirth. “Little Sarah you have no idea who or what my brother is or you’d already have run away screaming.”

The remark made no sense and she decided he was trying to confuse and frighten her. “So now that we’ve decided I don’t know, would you please answer my question? What is happening out there? What is Mark doing?”

The anger seemed to vanish as if he squelched it deliberately. The lazy smile was back. “What’s he doing out there? Being the noble, idiotic, idealistic fool he has always been.”

Sarah felt her jaw clench. He was the most infuriating man. He was deliberately wicked and argumentative not to mention he seemed to have mood swings that made any woman’s PMS seem tame. No wonder Mark disliked him. He shook his head in disbelief at his own thoughts and muttered so softly she almost missed the words, “Giving it up and he hasn’t even mated to her, hasn’t told her…”

He wanted to be difficult, she could be difficult to. She’d keep at it until he answered. “All I’m asking for is a straight answer. There’s something you think I should know but don’t. What don’t I know?”

“More than you can imagine.” Sarah gave a high pitched grunt of frustration. A soft chuckle escaped the man’s throat and he held his hands up in concession. “Okay, little Sarah, you win. I’m going to answer your questions but don’t blame me if you don’t like what you hear…”

(Christian Bale is Luke, since he’s Mark’s twin, in honor of my friend Llew who thinks he’s perfect for Luke.)

The day is finally here. My first book for Ellora's Cave is now available. Mating Stone is part of the Jewels of the Nile series and as a February release should, focuses around an amethyst.

Sarah has found the perfect man and best of all, he loves her deeply. Before introducing her to his family he proposes and presents her with an amethyst pendant, a stone she doesn't realize is more than symbolic. When his brother reveals Mark's secret, Sarah must decide if she loves him enough to accept him even if he's not exactly human. And Mark must decide how far he'll go, how much he'll give up to claim Sarah as his mate. Is he willing to abandon his birthright? Is he willing to kill his own brother to keep it and Sarah?

This story is the first in a series of stories that follow the men introduced within its pages. Mark Ursine, eldest and the heir apparent. Luke Ursine, younger brother and twin to Mark. Past tragedies have turned sibling rivalry into hate but standing between the two Weres is Tarris. An orphaned incubus, he was taken in by their father and raised among the shape shifters. Only he seems to be able to bridge the gap between them, or at least prevent all out war.

Tonight's Guy:

Mark Ursine
Were
Profession: That's a long story.
Age: 154 (looks about 28-29)
Story: Mating Stone by Elyssa Edwards from Ellora's Cave.

Mark is part of a race of shape shifters that found their way to our world before humans had mastered the use of fire. Respectful of the sentient creatures they believed had great potential, the shifters kept to themselves so as not to intefere with their evolution. When disaster collapsed the energy source that allowed them to remain in phase with our world, they tied their spirits to those of animals so that they could survive and remain. Mark is decended from a group that chose to unite with the bear. They do not choose which species of bear they become, that is determined by birth and largely influenced by family bloodlines.

Mark becomes the great brown bear, also known as the Kodiak. When tragedy, his guilt and his brother's blame drove him to distance himself from his family, he didn't realize his time in the human world would introduce him to the one person above all that he could love with his heart and soul. As the oldest it is he who must replace his grandfather as Amar, the leader of their clan. But will his brother Luke allow him to succeed without a challenge? Will his people accept his choice of mate? And once Sarah finds out what he is, will she still want him?

Excerpt:

“So passionate, my love.”

Passionate was not a word anyone had used to describe Sarah in the past. But with Mark it was true and even she knew it. She moved her hand down to stroke him. He was hard and ready for her and she was shocked when he grabbed her hand and stilled her movements.

“My family will be waiting,” he said softly. This was the second reason for splurging on the green dress. Tonight she’d meet Mark’s family. She had to admit this was moving very fast yet it seemed right. So exactly right. He kissed her again and smiled into her face. “After tonight, we will have all the time in the world.”
She readjusted the bodice of her dress as he lifted her panties from the floor and knelt. He held them out for her as she stepped back into them. He kissed her again as he slid the fabric almost reluctantly back up over her hips. She tried to smooth down the skirt of her dress, just certain it was wrinkled beyond help.

He caught her chin and tilted her head up. “You look beautiful. But before we go, there is something I want to give you,” Mark smoothed his hands over her hair and tucked the wayward strand behind an ear. Sarah couldn’t help but smile. He stepped back slightly and closed the last buttons on his shirt and quickly tied his tie. He brushed at his jacket and drew in a deep breath. Looking even more incredible than before, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a large, flat, dark blue box. Sarah’s eyes widened. Mark was always giving her little things, whether they’d been apart minutes, hours or not at all but that was a jeweler’s box and it looked more than a bit expensive.

He put the box in her hands and gestured for her to open it. When she did, her jaw dropped. Lying on a bed of black velvet was a large amethyst. The stone was simply set and hung from a delicate box chain. She looked up at Mark. “Mark, this is…”

He cut her off. “A gift, Sarah.” Something about his voice was thick and odd. “It is something I want you to have, something I hope you will accept,” his eyes gazed deep into hers. “Darling, my family…our traditions are different from most. A lot about us is different from what you’re used to. We don’t give rings, my love. When a man in my family asks a woman to join her life to his, he gives her a stone like this, her birthstone. And this stone,” he drew in a deep breath, “this is my promise to you. My pledge, Sarah-mine.”

“Mark, are you saying… Are you asking…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Was he asking her to marry him?

“It can’t be a surprise to you that I love you, Sarah. I know that you feel strongly for me. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me, feel it in your touch. I want you to be mine, to be my wife, my partner, my mate. I want you by my side, my love. This is what I had to go away to do, I had to find the stone and have it set for you.” He caressed her cheek softly.

“This is so fast,” she murmured. She wanted to scream yes with all that was in her but it was so fast. And Sarah never did anything fast. Her whole life had been about slow and easy. The word impulsive just wasn’t in her vocabulary. Not until she’d met Mark.

[...]

“Sarah, I know this is fast for you. I know that you… Sarah for me this is much simpler. I know exactly what I want and I know it will never change. But I want you to be sure. I don’t want you to answer me yet. It’s not fair to ask you to make up your mind when you haven’t even met my family. I only want you to think about it and I wanted to give you this so there is no question in your mind or anyone else’s where we stand. I want you and my family to know I am yours and you are mine. No gray areas.”

She looked up at him. She loved him. She really did love him and for some stupid reason, not a part of her believed he didn’t love her. She wanted to marry him. She wanted to raise a family with him, grow old with him. She wanted every silly romantic cliché and she wanted it with Mark. She swallowed hard before speaking. “But doesn’t my not answering you leave a lot of gray area?”

“You’ve answered.” He kissed her softly on the lips and then on the forehead. “With your eyes, Sarah-mine you’ve answered.” He smiled down at her. “But I want to give you the option to change your mind once you’ve seen the true level of insanity that spawned me.”

“Everyone thinks their family is weird, Mark,” she reassured him.

“Mine isn’t weird, Sarah. They’re… well, you’ll see.”

(Christian Bale is Mark in honor of my friend and constant supporter Llew. Whenever I need something, Llew is there. He's not exactly my Mark, but he'd Damned close.)



It's contest time!

Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire?

Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –
1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

So, who has it today? Sorry, not me. Keep looking.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle

Him

Contest First!

Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire? Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line:

"My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website.

Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –
1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Sandra Cox Silverhills
Mona Risk To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin Tribute For the Goddess
Bronwyn Green Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape Stone and Earth
N.J. Walters Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke
Elyssa Edwards Mating Stone
Amarinda Jones Shades of Gray
Kelly Kirch Time for Love
Anny Cook Honeysuckle


Now, back to my guys.

Up next?

Him (or whatever you want it to be)
Human
Profession: Actor
Age: (as old as you want him to be)
Story: Seeing Me by Elyssa Edwards from Ellora's Cave

Yep, that’s right, Him. No, that isn’t his name, but that’s all you get as you read this story.

He is an actor. He has paid his dues and now makes the big bucks and rakes in the offers since he started playing the lead in a series of films based on the books of a famous scifi/fantasy writer. The blockbuster films have made the writer, the studios and everyone else a great deal of money. And he’s not doing too badly himself. His face and the luscious body it tops are used to sell. Sell tickets. Sell books. Sell whatever anyone wants to sell. But he’s not a pretty Ken doll. He has a mind, a soul and a heart just like any other man. Only sometimes the world forgets and he doesn’t fight them on it.

Now he’s been booked by his studio to appear at a conference. The largest scifi/fantasy conference in the Southern United States. It’s all a part of the biz. As long as they pay the room, the speaking fee, the limo and the plane ticket, he’s fine with it. Until it starts. The same sanctimonious shit he’s used to hearing again and again from self righteous writers who think they are writing the classic tomes of the future. They denounce the “Hollywood Machine” and staunchly declare they’d never sell out. And as usual, he sits there with his frozen smile until a lovely young woman at the end of the table suddenly blurts out:

“Are you crazy? You’d sell your left testicle if someone wanted to make a movie from one of your books with that kind of budget.”

And when he finds out who she is, this conference takes on a whole new importance.


Excerpt:

[Cara] shook her head, “It’s an honor to be asked to meet you, it was an honor to be on the panel with you. But…” Her words fled her again. You’re a writer for Chrissakes, get a hold of yourself. You are supposed to be a wordsmith, you make your living with words.

“But?” When she didn’t continue his smile broadened encouragingly, “Come on over and sit down. Let me take your bag.” He moved toward her quickly, then stopped and reached hesitantly for the large canvas bag she carried. She pulled it from her shoulders and he took it from her hands. He smiled down at her almost shyly and moved away to place it on a nearby chair. “Please, won’t you sit?” He backed away and sat down on the edge of the large overstuffed white sofa. “Is it Ms. Ellison, or may I call you C.J.?”

“Cara actually,” she had no idea where the answer came from as it sounded in her own voice. “My agent suggested my initials so it wasn’t mistaken for a girlie book.”

She saw him roll his eyes, “Agents, can’t live with them, can’t do business without them.” His gaze shifted quickly back to her and he suddenly seemed to be examining her face intently. “Cara,” he rolled the word off his tongue as if he were tasting it. “It’s Italian, but you don’t look Italian.”

“I’m not.”

“It means expensive,” he grinned at her, “did you know?”

“No,” she looked up at him puzzled. “I thought it meant darling or something like that.”

“No. It’s often used that way,” his eyes seemed to almost sparkle with mischief, “but it means expensive, like a fine bottle of wine. Something to be treated gently, reverently.” He paused and she felt his gaze move over her, “Something to be savored.” He patted the seat next to him. “I promise I don’t bite.” The wicked grin on his face spoke the words his lips didn’t. Unless you want me to.

As she walked toward him she tried not to notice him. Well not so much not notice him, as not notice how he looked. The white shirt had been traded for a black one and the heat rising in her face betrayed the fact that she noticed he hadn’t buttoned it. It was tucked in and only the first button or two above his waistband was closed. A healthy expanse of golden skin, nicely detailed pectoral muscles and a hint of the washboard abs he was famous for were visible. He must have followed her eyes because he began to apologize.

“I’m sorry, it was hot in the ballroom earlier and so I changed shirts, and,” she watched the side of his face as he bent his head forward and started fastening a few more of the buttons. He’s blushing! She realized in amazement. His face was filling with color. She further realized he was stammering a bit. She had embarrassed him. Great, just great. He caught you looking at his chest now he thinks you’re as big a freak as some of those women out there holding signs offering to have his baby. Yet again he had proven himself right, things could get worse.

His hands stilled and he turned his head to look at her. It was still bent and his dark hair was falling in his face, he smiled as if testing to see if she would smile back. She did. The smile widened and his head rose. “Speaking of hot, it suddenly seems a bit warm in here, too. Can I get you something cool?” He stood and moved toward the wet bar at one end of the room. “I did a stint as a bartender, believe it or not, I can make you anything you like.” The mischievous grin swept up over his face lighting up his eyes.

“Really,” she drew the word out to show her mock skepticism. She was quite certain almost anything he wanted to make her she was definitely going to like and like a lot. “Anything I’d like?”

“Yes ma’am, anything you like,” his voice had dropped slightly and his eyes were no longer smiling. The temperature in the room seemed to shoot up several degrees. Or was it just the heat he seemed to be very adept in stirring inside of her?

“White wine is fine,” she turned her head away from him. Breathe. For God’s sake don’t forget to breathe. One thing was certain; she still had no idea why she was here. The look and the innuendo, no those were just games he played, tools of the trade she told herself. He was an actor. His life was about convincing you to like him, to feel comfortable and intimate with him. That he could do it so easily is what made him so good. That he was so damned good at it is what had him infiltrating the dreams of a good number of women in this world.

He returned to where she sat. She took the glass by its thin stem without looking up at him. Instead she looked at the long fingers that held the bowl of the glass, cupping it. Fingers that slid along its surface as she took hold, fingertips dragging through the already building condensation as if they didn’t want to surrender it to her. Her heart rate had jumped and he had said nothing to her, done nothing to her. Again she began to regret her choice of undergarments. The thin lacy bra she’d chosen that morning was definitely making things a lot worse. She didn’t dare look down, guessing was bad enough, she didn’t want to know just how obvious certain things were at the moment.

He didn’t sit immediately but sat his own glass, scotch of some sort she guessed, down on the end table. Maybe she should have opted for something harder than white wine, perhaps the burn of whiskey would have settled her nerves. Or come right back up, she thought ruefully. That was one indignity she definitely didn’t need. He excused himself and went through a side door. He returned before she even had a moment to register his absence. He carried something in his hand. It was a book. It was her book.

He sat down next to her and lifted his glass. He took a swallow of the contents then leaned back. “I asked you up here because I wanted to ask you to sign your book for me.”

“You’ve really read my book?” The words and the accompanying incredulity landed between them with an almost audible thud.

He frowned. “Yes. Didn’t my assistant tell you that you were being asked up to sign your book?”

“Yes, but...”

“But you didn’t figure someone like me had read it.”

“No. I never dreamed someone like you would have read it,” she admitted. She was pulling a large sip from her own glass when he stood up and walked away toward the windows.

“I see. You’re surprised that someone like me would even attempt to read such a work. I might muddle through a script alright, but real books are something else.”
She stared at him in shock. “I didn’t say that. That’s not what I meant.”

“Right.” He turned to face her, the orange rays of the sun backlighting him, a golden corona forming about him. His face was blank, a calm practiced look of boredom, but his eyes seemed to be alight with something more. His voice, when he spoke again, betrayed the bitter edge of anger. “It’s fine. I’ve heard it before. Actors are just parrots, right? They look pretty and showy and repeat whatever lines they are taught but understanding those lines is beyond them. We’re just a bunch of ridiculous boys and plasticized bimbos who drink too much, party too much and make way too much money for standing around playing pretend like a bunch of preschoolers. Look, I’m sorry I got you out of your reception.”

“Wait a minute,” she stood up. “That isn’t what I meant and I certainly never said those things. It seems to me that if anyone is jumping to stereotypes here, it’s you. I’m a writer so I must be self-important and egotistical? I must be absolutely certain that every word that falls from my pen is pure genius? Someone’s ego is involved here but I don’t think it’s mine.”

He just looked at her, his brow creasing, slight confusion etched on his face. The hurt was still in those dark eyes, and it was as if he wasn’t entirely sure he was really hearing the words she was saying.

“Look when I said I didn’t expect someone like you to have read my book I meant I didn’t expect it would even be noticed by someone like you. It’s an obscure piece of drivel by an unknown author who only got invited today because she’s a local girl. Hell, if I hadn’t been a volunteer for this convention for the last few years no one here would have given me the time of day.” She wanted him to believe her. Wanted it badly. For some reason it mattered a great deal that he believe she hadn’t been demeaning his intelligence. “I can’t believe any of those people today actually took time out of their lives to read my book, let alone someone like you who has people pulling him in a hundred directions every minute of the day.”

He pursed his lips and his head dropped. Silence filled the room for a long moment as he stared down at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m a bit raw from that confrontation downstairs. You might be surprised how often I get that. Not just what that guy said, but the whole thing. I was a marketing tool today. A new and improved product. Bright and shiny, tell your friends. I was being used to sell this conference, to sell the books of every person on that panel. When you first start out it’s sort of cool, look at me and the power my face has. But after a while it gets old.” He lifted wary eyes to hers. “I’m sorry. I made assumptions that were incorrect.”

She simply nodded. The truth in what he was saying was overwhelming. He was right. Every person there today had treated him like the leggy, breasty bimbo who points to the new model of car and says, “Pretty.” Her included. All she had seen was Him. Her first thoughts, if she were honest with herself, had been about the exposure and the attendance this panel was likely to get. Okay, not really. That was her second thought. Her first thought had been that of a giggling fourteen-year-old teenager who was just told she was going to meet her idol. The great movie star whose presence seemed to turn something inside her to jelly. No, not jelly, lava. Red-hot, cascading, chocolate flavored, lava. Sudden thoughts of the possible uses for warm liquid chocolate filled her mind along with the image of herself lapping up said chocolate. Her face, and everything else, grew even warmer.

Wanna Win Free Books?

Eternally Yours Contest

What could you spend an eternity doing? What is your passion? Your hunger? Your deepest desire? Each day beginning February 5 and running through February 14 one of the ten authors will complete the line, "My darling I could spend eternity…" on either their blog or website. Collect all ten answers and e-mail them to anny@annycook.com with Eternally Yours in the subject line to win some hot, romantic books. There will be three lucky Valentine winners.

The prizes –

1st prize--5 books
2nd prize--3 books
3rd prize--2 books

Entries must be in by February 16 at midnight EST. All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly.

Elyssa Edwards- Mating Stone
Mona Risk- To Love a Hero
Brynn Paulin- Tribute for the Goddess
N.J. Walters -Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke
Amarinda Jones -Shades of Gray
Sandra Cox- Silverhills
Bronwyn Green -Mystic Circle
Cindy Spencer Pape -Stone and Earth
Anny Cook -Honeysuckle
Kelly Kirch -Time for Love

As a special treat, these authors will be participating in a chat on February 4th from 1pm to 8pm at Love Romances Cafe.

When Anny Cook showed me this list of books I was so jealous. I want to win them! This list includes some of my favorite authors and their exciting new releases. So climb on board, check out the blogs and websites for these authors. Find out what they could do for an eternity and win enough books to keep the last howls of winter at bay.