Book Reviewer Darcy Dennison wants to ring her artist neighbor’s neck. That’s a crying shame considering how gorgeous he is, but she needs peace and quiet to get her work done. Models throwing fits in his apartment don’t help.
On a temporary work visa, Paolo Santori has little time to paint his nudes before returning to Italy to marry a woman he doesn’t love. Then Darcy bursts into his life. The solution is simple, she’ll model his favorite subject while she works.
Making her glisten thrills them both, but falling in love could mean losing everything he’s ever known.
http://www.jasminejade.com/ps-8466-50-strokes.aspx

As Mark Twain once said…rumours of our demise are greatly exaggerated!

Our Yahoo group may be closing but we are here to stay!

Stay tuned for new and regular blog posts…guest bloggers, excerpts and competitions!

And you can also follow us on Twitter…head on over there now!  www.twitter.com/LeagAmazWriters

And to kick off our new Twitter site, I will give away a free book from my backlist to one lucky follower on Twitter!

See you there

Maggie

www.maggienash.com

The Relic

Great news!  THE RELIC…my League of Amazing Writers story, featuring my alter ego Magda, is released Monday!

Here’s the blurb:

Finding herself in the wilds of a Penang rainforest wasn’t something Magda was exactly happy about. Being there on a mission to recover an ancient relic that threatened world peace certainly had its appeal, but the heat, the bugs and wild animals quickly cancelled out any of the excitement of the chase. Adding to her misery was the arrival on the scene of the last person she ever wanted to cross paths with. Vincent Stone, her rival in the search for the relic, and her ex-lover. The man who’d ripped out her heart and trampled on it had no business being in the same country as her, let alone the same town.

Vincent isn’t doing much better as he tries to remember why he’d broken it off with her. She made him feel more than anyone else but in his line of work, and with his past history, he didn’t have room for a relationship. But damn, she made him want one.

Click HERE to read an excerpt and to BUY the book

Don’t you just love the cover!

I’m guest blogging over at the Australian Romance Readers Association this week.  I’m talking about our favourite heroes.  If you drop by and leave a comment you’ll go into the draw to win a $10 gift certificate for Total-e-bound.  See you there!

Ashlyn Chase

I promised myself I wouldn’t be that chick. You know the one…she fawns all over her favorite author like it will somehow rub off on her. Well, I tried not to, I really did, but I’m afraid I fawned.

At our recent Let Your Imagination Take Flight conference, our keynote speaker was Mary Janice Davidson. I love her—um, you know, her books! They’ve provided hours of pure, guilt-free escapism for me. I’ve followed her career for years and have read at least half of her four page backlist. Well, during her keynote speech, she talked about being a fan girl herself! (Really?) Apparently she was invited to a book signing with two of her idols and admitted to touching them ever chance she got. Oh no! It was at that moment, I realized I’d touched her arm a few times too! Gaaaa! I was a fan girl! Oh, and that’s not all…

One bonus of being on the conference committee is that you get to go out to dinner with all the VIPs the night before the conference. It’s a chance to relax and socialize in an informal atmosphere. Well, that evening I told MJ (I can call her MJ now) I had a book plate with her signature on it, but I didn’t stick it in a book. I set it on my desk for inspiration. She said in her typical MJ fashion, “Oh…that’s nice—creepy, but nice.”
Well, I may have been a little too informal. I shared a yummy appetizer with Brenda Novak, dropped half of it on my jersey…and double dipped! (Eek.) I told her the minute I realized it, and assured her I was healthy. You know what? She was fine with it and actually double dipped too. These wonderful best sellers are people! Good people!

I’m finally used to having Barbara Keiler, aka Judith Arnold, around. But who knew she could crack me up as much as MJ did! It was a very fun-filled, belly-filled night. But, because I’m lame, I had to be the first one to leave and go to bed at ten-thirty. I just wasn’t able to stay up past my bedtime. It was probably a good thing since I was running around the next day, setting up the raffle table, giving a workshop and moderating another one.

Even though I was on the conference committee this year, I was able to attend a couple of workshops. They were fantastic. I’m really proud of the line-up we had and how many positive comments we heard afterward. For those of you who missed it, don’t worry. It’s not too late. You can order the conference on CD! The individual workshops are very reasonable priced and the whole set is well worth it! Check out our website www.necrwa.org to find out how to order. Or put this into your browser: http://www.fleetwoodonsite.com/index.php

This is so typical of the creative life. The opinions on your work are subjective. Some of us have a hard time remembering these judgments aren’t personal, even if they seem like it. Thomas Wolfe said, “Every novel is an autobiography.” In a way, that’s true. I can only write from my own head, and maybe that’s why attacks on our “babies” feel like attacks on us.

Now, what if you can separate personal attacks on you from subjective opinions on your work? Is it any easier? Not if you want to please all of the people absolutely all of the time. Most of us want our work to be well received. Some artists may prefer to provoke rather than entertain, but as long as they get the reaction they’re looking for, they’re happy.

The comedy writers of the world are especially apt to be misunderstood if people don’t realize their tongues are firmly planted in their cheeks! I once wrote a silly comedy about reincarnation. In our Judeo Christian society, the idea is ripe for satire! The majority of my readership probably doesn’t believe in reincarnation as a certainty, so that wasn’t the hot button.

Unfortunately, I addressed the subject of suicide in the story. Now many people do have a strong opinion on suicide and experience with people who’ve either thought about it or attempted it. Some people really liked the story and I received some glowing reviews. Others skewered me. They reacted to me like the folks who rolled down the car window and yelled, “Whore” to Penelope. She’s not a whore and I don’t think suicide is funny.

Does that mean writers should shy away from all possible hot buttons? How can you? Are they listed somewhere? Potentially, anything could be a hot button. You could write about a car or a prom and wind up dealing with controversy. Stephen King did. But he was going for horror and it made his career. His belief? “The innocent must suffer.” 

My belief? Humor can be found in just about anything…even rejection. And that is a tough lesson to learn. That thick skin people mention is painful to grow. Your skin has to be attacked a few times before calluses form. Attacked too much and a person becomes callus and bitter. There’s a reason callus has two meanings. One’s a very appropriate metaphor…and kind of funny if you think about it.

FYI, this story is a big spoiler for One For The Team. If you haven’t read it and don’t want to know what happens, stop here.

OFTT is a m/f story. This story is about Jason and Davey, two of Jen’s best friends. I assure you, it becomes m/m but it starts out m/f/m.

Here’s a taste of the first chapter as it now stands. Takes place right after Jen and Ken’s wedding.

***********************

Very unedited excerpt, ©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

They’d all figured Jen could handle it. None of them had intended to change their friendship or turn it into anything long term. Just friends having fun. Then Ken had thrown a wrench into the works. Or, as he claimed, Jen had mucked it up by sleeping with Jason, Bart and Davey but refusing to sleep with Ken. Jason had to admit, that would have ticked him off too. Looking back on the one night when the five of them had been together, Ken was the only one who hadn’t done more than kiss Jen. Of course, she’d stayed the night when him when the rest of them had gone home. That was the night Ken had seen the proverbial light and asked Jen to marry him. Jason was happy for them. He was. Looking at them now, he wondered why no one had seen that they were meant for each other before.

But. That didn’t help him tonight. Clearly, if he was going to find companionship, he would have to go elsewhere.

Setting his glass down on the pristine white tablecloth, he stood. Jen and Ken were busy so he chose not to bother them. He’d already bestowed his congratulations on the happy couple and he’d see them at work on Wednesday anyway since they weren’t going on their honeymoon until November. Bart would be busy elsewhere in the restaurant since it was open for business tonight as well.

Where was Davey? The little snot was his ride home, which was the only reason he was still drinking. Last time he’d seen the other man had been when there were still people dancing on the miniature floor. That had to have been an hour or so ago. As he meandered toward the door leading out of the banquet room, Jason pulled out his cell and sent a text to his friend: Where r you?

Once out of the hall, he edged around a small dining area toward the buzz of conversation that surrounded the bar. The area was pretty typical of an upscale restaurant like Bart’s. Up two steps and Jason was surrounded by shining polished wood, mirrors and muted lighting. A few mini tables were scattered in the open area on one side, but the main focus was the long bar and the shelves of booze behind on mirrored shelves. There was only about a dozen people there and he recognized a few from the wedding. He waved to Ken’s sister with her hubby and Tina and Dan from work, but headed for the end of the bar. He set down his empty glass and watched a few pitches in the Pirates/Brewers game while he waited for Jake, the bartender, to finish up and bring him another.

“Damn,” he muttered to himself, watching the roll of scores across the bottom of the plasma screen mounted on the wall. Mets won again. That meant his beloved Braves were another game down. It was a damn sure bet they weren’t going to make it to the playoffs this year.

He was halfway through another Black Russian and well into the next inning of the Rockies/Giants game when Davey finally texted him back. He flipped open the phone to read the message: Come. Back lot.

The parking lot in the back? “Why?” he asked the phone aloud, knowing full well it wouldn’t answer. So he texted it: Why?

A moment later came the reply: Just come.

Typical Davey. No explanation, just an expectation of obedience. Had he moved his car? If so, why? No telling with Davey, of course. He followed his own rules for everything.

Sighing, Jason stood, downed his drink and paid for it while grimacing at the onslaught of rich coffee liqueur down to his gullet. He hoped whatever Davey had in mind was worth it. He didn’t drink Black Russians often and he preferred to savor them.

Well acquainted with the layout of the restaurant, he headed for the darker hallways that led to the restrooms. Beyond the johns was another hall that led both to the manager’s office and employee’s lockers. There was also a fire door that led to the back parking lot. Once outside, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the harsh fluorescent directly overhead that cast faux moonlight in the immediate vicinity. The parking lot in back only held ten spaces, meant for kitchen staff and managers. Bart’s beemer sat directly outside the door.

It took a moment but Jason finally located Davey leaning against the dark shadow of his deep blue Mustang GT at the very end of the halo of light. His white dress shirt and light colored slacks stood out against the black background of the trees that stood beyond the pavement, as did the bright pink T-shirt of the girl pressed against him.

What the hell? Jason scowled. Was he going to have to find another way home? That little shit.

Having heard the door open, Davey waved him over with one arm while keeping the other wrapped around the girl.

Muttering to himself, Jason descended the three cement steps of the stoop and crossed the lot. He really shouldn’t begrudge his buddy finding a date. Wasn’t he hoping to do the same thing?

She was cute, too. A little under Davey’s height, which put her around five-feet-four or -five, she had that hair that wasn’t quite brunette and wasn’t quite blonde but was kind of both, cut short level with her rounded chin. She had a slim little body with a tight belly shown off by the way her T-shirt rode up because her arms were around Davey’s neck. When she turned to grin at Jason, he guessed she was around their age with a bright smile and carefully plucked eyebrows. He couldn’t tell the color of her eyes because it was too dark in the lot.

Jason stopped a few paces away from them and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his slacks. “What’s up?”

Davey grinned, the lenses of his thick-rimmed glasses catching a glint from the light behind Jason. “This is Tacy.”

The girl unwound her arms and turned to face Jason but kept her hip snuggled up against Davey. She extended a hand to Jason. “‘Stacey’ without the ‘s’. Hi.”

He took it, mustering a smile. Maybe she had a friend inside. “Hi.”

Her fingers slid over his palm as their hands parted and she gave him a warm little grin that he couldn’t decipher.

Keeping his eyes on Jason, Davey rubbed her back, making her T-shirt ride up her belly a little more. With the dip of her low-rise jeans, there was a nice bit of soft flesh visible. “Tacy’s never had two guys at once. I told her we could probably accommodate her. What do you think?”

Jason blinked. Then his jaw dropped. “Huh?”

Tacy giggled, propping her back up against Davey so he could slide his arms around her from behind.

Davey wasn’t even fazed by what he’d said. “Tacy wants to do us.”

She giggled again. “Or you do me.”

One of Davey’s thumbs tucked into the waistband of her jeans, right behind the button. “Some of both.”

Jason’s gaze snagged on that thumb, his imagination filling in what was right near it. “You guys are serious?”

“Oh yeah,” Tacy assured him.

“Do I know you?”

Pulling away from Davey, she closed the distance to Jason. Blue. Her eyes were blue. “Not yet.” She let that blue gaze rake him up and down before she spread her palms over his chest, slipping them underneath the lapels of his jacket to lightly press his nipples. “But we can fix that.”

He glanced over her shoulder. Davey remained where he was, arms now folded across his chest. His head was cocked to the side, shiny straight brown hair falling to the side from the tilt of his head. That smug little grin he almost always wore was right there, challenging Jason to take up the offer.

A few months ago, Jason might not have considered it. But, after what had happened with Jen this summer, he was caught. That night the five of them had shared sprung to mind. It had been sexy as hell watching the other guys fuck Jen, knowing they were watching when he was inside her himself. All too vividly he could conjure up the memory of Davey, naked and sheened with sweat as he plowed into Jen from behind. He remembered the fevered glee in Davey’s unshielded eyes when their gazes had met over Jen’s back, Davey fucking her while Jen sucked Jason’s cock. It was the singular most erotic thing he could remember doing in his life.

The light in Davey’s eyes told Jason he remembered the same thing. And wanted to do it again.

Why the hell not?

His thoughts had taken mere seconds. His gaze returned to Tacy’s by the time she spoke again. “What do you say?”

He grinned down at her, setting his hands on the curve of her hips. “I’m game if you are.”

I’m thrilled to say I was able to write my usual 1,000 words this a.m. Something was missing when I couldn’t do that!

I had an interview that just came out on my friend’s yahoo loop. awakeningdesires@yahoogroups.com
Check it out for more up to date career news. If you want the personal details on my surgery, I put those on my personal blog. http://www.ashlynchase.com

Since my new story’s going to come out next week, thought it was time for an excerpt. It’s one of my “gay for you” stories. I seem to be rather fond of those. What can I say? I like seeing straight guys get shaken up.

BLURB (subject to change):

Justin falls for Kevin the instant they pass each other on a sidewalk. Only, Kevin’s not gay. The higher ups at Kevin’s company are gay, however, and Kevin’s accidental meeting with Justin gives him an idea how to get around his controlling female supervisor. If he can gain access to the top men at an exclusive gay club, he might be able to finally share his ideas.

Justin instantly agrees to be his date, despite the obvious heartbreak that’s headed his way for going out with a straight man. At the club, Kevin gets a chance to meet the company owner, Victor Chen, and the man seems interested… both in his ideas and his date.

Kevin can’t deny his attraction to Justin, but he’s not gay. Right? He should step aside and let Justin have a chance to date Victor, who’s gorgeous, rich, and shares Justin’s interest in fashion. Despite his internal struggles, he really wants to explore their growing bond. Justin is certainly game, but a part of him knows they can’t have a future together. Is there more to their instant attraction than either suspect?

*************************

Mostly edited excerpt, ©2009 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved

“… and then I…” Justin stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing two chatting women to split up to go around him. Ignoring their mild glares as they passed, he stared blindly over the plastic lid of his coffee cup, wondering if he’d just seen what he thought he’d seen.

Ahead, Frank kept walking a few steps before realizing he was alone. He spun, the spikes of his highlighted hair refusing to move in the mild breeze that kept the sunny street somewhat cool. “Hey?”

Justin heard him but couldn’t be bothered acknowledge the words. He snapped around, eagerly searching for… Oh yes! The hind view of the vision of loveliness that had just passed by him. Slightly rumpled charcoal slacks loosely framed a fine little derriere and an equally rumpled ice gray button-down draped slim shoulders. Waved hair the color of good French Roast almost brushed said shoulders.

“Justin, what are you…?”

Barely hearing his friend, Justin raced back down the sidewalk, nearly spilling his coffee in his rush to catch up to a wet dream come to life. He nearly ran over a guy on roller blades and just avoided getting wrapped up in a micro dog’s leash, but he finally made it to the vison’s side. He reached out to wrap a hand around an arm. Nice, he thought, feeling the biceps. Slim, but firm.

Said vision halted and twisted a graceful neck over and up to face Justin.

Oh. My. God! Innocently seductive brown eyes kind of focused on Justin from beneath sinfully full black lashes. Confused eyes that blinked up at him, positively enchanting. Elegant and sleek, just like the rest of him, Latino somewhere in his lineage, judging by facial features and gold skin tone. There was an almost innocence in that face even though he was had to be in his mid-twenties, at least. Justin wanted to devour the generous lips that parted in surprise.

“I’ve just fallen in love with you,” Justin declared, cradling his coffee cup to his chest as he kept hold on the vision’s arm. “What is your name, and please tell me you’re gay?”

“Justin!” Frank caught up with him, grabbing the wrist of the hand that had a grip on the vision’s arm. Frank tugged but Justin wouldn’t let go. “Justin, please, you’re annoying the nice man.”

Justin blinked at the dumbstruck object of his attention as the breeze puffed a lock of shiny dark hair across the man’s brow. “Nice man, please tell me your name so I know who to dream about tonight.”

“Justin!” Frank scolded, prying at his fingers.

Reluctantly, since the vision didn’t seem to be responding in kind, Justin let Frank remove his hand. But he kept eye contact.

“Please excuse him,” Frank said, yanking Justin away. “He’s not right in the head.”

“How can I be in the face of such beauty?” Justin protested, stumbling backward as Frank tugged.

Said beauty blinked slowly, his gorgeous pink lips still parted in shock.

“I work down the street at Juster’s. It’s a men’s boutique.” Justin wanted to cry. “Come find me, Prince Charming. Please!”

The vision blinked again, closed his mouth, and turned away.

Justin sobbed dramatically, watching a fine ass in shapeless slacks retreat. “There goes the love of my life.”

Frank snorted, forcibly turning Justin toward the intersection so he wouldn’t have to drag him anymore. “You’re a complete nutcase.”

Justin sighed and sipped his coffee. “I know. But you gotta go with your instincts, right?”

“Your instincts are going to get you killed one of these days.”

Justin waved his hand and avoided a group of chatting businessmen. “I’ve gotten beat up over it before. That’s nothing new.” He hummed dreamily as they stopped to wait for the light. “But he was pretty, wasn’t he?”

“He was that,” Frank admitted, pressing the WALK button.

Justin glanced back but the vision was long gone. “Not gay though, huh?”

“Not in the least.”

“Damn.”

* * * * *

Kevin returned to his cubicle, still bemused by what had just happened. He’d left to blow off a little steam with an afternoon walk. He certainly hadn’t expected to be hit on. By a guy, no less!

Raoul got up from his chair in the next cubicle just as Kevin sat down. Immediately, Kevin was reminded of the reason he’d left. Some of his amusement died.

“She’s gone,” Raoul told him, keeping his voice low. The three people in the neighboring cubicles were all on their side and could be trusted, but beyond that was sketchy.

“Gee,” Kevin checked his watch. “Three o’clock. Must be nice.”

Stacie pushed her chair close. “She’s going to” — she made quote signs in the air with her fingers — “‘work from home.’”

All three of them snorted at that.

Kevin shook his head. “The woman never listens.” He balled his fists, staring blankly at his monitor. “I know we could get that second installation if she’d just present the idea to either Greg or Victor.”

“Fat chance. She’s way too scared of how it went last time.”

Kevin waved a hand in the air. “We’ve fixed those problems. We’ve gone way beyond that. Besides, if we just talked to the customer…”

“Please,” Stacie scoffed, “remember what happened the last time she talked to a customer?”

Snarling soundlessly, Kevin slumped back his chair.

Raoul leaned on the low cubicle wall and shrugged. “What can we do?”

Kevin grimaced. “Unless we can get to Greg –”

“Which we can’t.”

“– or Victor –”

“Yeah, right.”

“– nothing.”

Stacie patted his shoulder before wheeling back to her keyboard.

Raoul gave him a sharp look and glanced at the drawers of Kevin’s desk. He raised his brows then shrugged before disappearing around the corner into his own little space.

Kevin knew what the look was for.

He stared at the second drawer of his metallic desk. Inside was the possible answer to their problems but only if he had the balls to go through with it. No one else does. It was an invitation that a friend had given him to an exclusive party at a popular local club. Kevin was not into the clubbing scene, but it was a sure bet that at least two of the three men Kevin needed to know would be there. The club was high-class and rumored to be the place. For homosexuals. Which both Greg Hanson and Victor Chen were.

Kevin Fuller, however, was not.

Kevin blinked, the coincidence crashing into him. He wanted to go to a gay club. He’d just been hit on by an obviously gay guy. Kismet?

**********************

Click here to visit my website’s main page for Just For You

Yet, 3 times now I’ve had reviews critical of me because of the brevity of these Quickies. *Sigh.

Do reviewers realize sometimes we’re given a word count and not allowed to go over it?

That’s the case with my latest Quickie, the fundraiser! 11 of us contributed to it, and since they were talking about making two print anthologies out of them, we were cut off at 15K. Mine was about 14.5K.

After the year with no royalties, I think I’ll rewrite and expand this book and put it in my own anthology.

Meanwhile, if reviewers don’t like short stories, please pass on them in favor of longer ones.

Life is made up of little moments, and if we’re not careful, the world will overrun us until we’re stressed out, upset, blind to everything but the next few words, the next diaper, the next meeting…

So steal a moment back here and there. Inhale the rich fragrance of your favorite hazelnut coffee or morning tea before slowly sipping it. After a burning workout lie down and just feel the thrum of your body. Inhale the tasty scents of chocolate chip cookies from a local bakery. Indulge in dipping your feet in a puddle or letting a sprinkler actually hit you once or twice while you’re out walking.

There are many places I’ve never been and will likely never be able to see…so when you sit down and decide to write a novel set in an exotic locale, look around you…to me, it’s exotic. It’s new. It’s refreshing. So why not invite me over and show me around? Make me feel like I belong in your world. Because, in the end, isn’t that what fiction is all about?

Dawn Montgomery, Angel

http://www.dawnmontgomery.com/blog
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