Thursday, August 28, 2008

Come over and visit with me this afternoon

Hey there,
I'm going to be chatting with Lena Matthews and her yahoo group this afternoon (day job has me bound to it until 4:30 pm EST today) but I'm hoping to have some company this evening.

It'll be fun and there will be excerpts posted on the group.

Here's the addy:

Hope to see you there!


Monday, August 25, 2008

Day Job and Writing

Have a dilemma, ladies and gentlemen.

Seems my day job boss thinks I am not taking my position seriously enough and that my writing is the reason for my lack of "sacrifice." In his estimation, I should view my job as a teacher similar to that of a doctor or lawyer, i.e. some personal time is required to do the job well. I'm not to complain about my lack of pay, nor am I supposed to cite my need for promotion and writing time when asked to stay after school to participate in a discipline program I don't use nor agree with.

Now, here's a quick description of my job duties: not only am I to teach computers and library skills to 600 Kindergarten through 8th grade students, but I'm also supposed to coordinate and teach training sessions for the teachers on how to use computers and technology in their classrooms, repair any faulty or non-working technology tools (computers, LCD projectors, TVs, DVD/VCR machines, printers, fax machines, copiers, etc.), set up and break down 50-72 computers for testing sessions 3 times a year, schedule, and monitor those testing sessions for 3-4 weeks. Of course as the monitor/proctor of the testing, I have to make sure all 600 students are in the test roster, develop and maintain a spreadsheet to record all of their test scores in 3-4 tests and make sure teachers know how to access, read, understand, and implement the information on the test results.

I'm supposed to do all this in the course of the day, while teaching classes, writing lesson plans, and keeping a smile on my face.

I freely admit, my problems are extremely minor in comparison to those people who don't have jobs, are homeless, ill, etc. but in the six weeks leading up to the start of school, my ambivalent feelings about my day job have kept me from really doing any kind of writing.

And that isn't acceptable to me.

Here's the dilemma--how do I keep from telling my principal just where to shove his job expectations for me, especially since I'm, in essence, performing 2-3 jobs and barely getting paid for one?

I'd really like to know, because it took everything I had to just enter my school last Monday and not tell the PTB to go F themselves.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Meeting a Neighbor's Needs--NC17 Rating!!

Here's a little teaser from my next book, Meeting a Neighbor's Needs, coming 8/19/08 from Loose Id, LLC. None of the characters are part of the DBC group, but, they do know how to push the boundaries. LOL

Meeting a Neighbor's Needs
Unedited Excerpt:

With a shaky nod, I allowed him to lead me, like his trusting pet, into the dimly lit living room. From my stereo, the haunting strains of Middle Eastern music wafted through the room. Upon our entrance, the little conversation drew to a close. There were five men, not including George, in various relaxed poses in my living room, none of whom I’d ever met before. Each man was dressed similar to my lover, in loose drawstring pants and bare chests. Each man matched George in height and fitness. Some were leaner while others were slightly huskier, but none was any less attractive than him.

As I stood there, George stepped away, leaving me in the center of the room, breasts swollen and bare, exposed from the waist down. Among the men I didn’t see Mike. Inwardly, I heaved a sigh of relief, until I noticed the familiar bottle of wine on the coffee table with six empty glasses scattered about the room. And the woven basket that usually held a collection of wrapped candies was filled with familiar, distinctive black plastic packets.

A gesture from George brought the first man forward. “This is Aaron,” George offered.

The man was handsome, lean face, dark brown eyes. Behind the fabric of his pants, his arousal pushed at the soft fabric. Leaning forward, he fastened his lips to mine, slipping his tongue into my mouth while one hand stroked my breast and the other tested the damp curls of my apex.

My eyes closed in appreciation at his skillful technique in kissing. Before I could return the caress, he slipped back and returned to his lounging position on the sofa, his fingers smoothing over the hard length of his penis.

“This is Vincent.”

A second man stepped forward, his hands slipping beneath my robe to cup my buttocks as his mouth dipped to suckle at a taut nipple. I gasped, burying my hand in his curly black hair. Still, he pulled away before I could enjoy more.


The third man stepped in front of me, took my trembling hand in his, and slipped it beneath his pants, cupping my hand over his thick erection. He withdrew my hand when I made to clasp him, and stepped away with a wry smile lifting his full lips and a twinkle in his storm-cloud-colored eyes.


This man approached slowly, measuring every inch of me with sharp blue eyes as he walked around my shaking form, his blunt fingertips trailing from an aroused nipple to my shoulder, down my back, around to my other shoulder, then down to my other straining nipple.

“And last, Garrick.”

Garrick merely nodded toward me from his position in the nearest easy chair, lids lowered over keen amber eyes. He looked as sexy clothed in the loose pants, as he had in jeans and a tee-shirt that day I’d spotted him outside George’s apartment. The heat in those golden eyes sent a twist through my belly rivaling my first reaction upon meeting George.