Life is a Highway

I love that song. Many, many years ago I listened to it over and over again. My friends and I would belt it out when it came on the radio. It was a feel good song. There have been several songs like that. I don’t think I will ever get enough music in my life.

I’m learning that bad memories will fade – if you let them. Instead I concentrate on all the good memories I have about people, places & things. What I used to go to as inspiration, I’m using again. Concentrating on all the wonderful things and using that as my muse. When you try to put the shit things in life behind you, it makes room in your heart and soul for all the good ones. As each day passes, I’ve learned to throw out the bad, negative & hurtful things I’ve done or that may have been done to me. Appreciate every good moment I’ve ever had. And without trying to sound arrogant, I know what my greatest strengths are in all areas of my life and will strive to remember them when I get stressed or hormonal…lol.

I’ve sat with my laptop and have begun just that. Using all the good, the muses who helped fuel my fire and writing without apologies and will continue to do so, probably forever. Yes, forgetting the bad helps, but remembering the sweet is doing infinitely more for me then anything else I’ve tried. At this point in my life,  I’m no longer curbing my thoughts & feelings because they are MINE and mine alone. I no longer say the words Never and Forever in my life because nothing is guaranteed -nothing and I don’t want to make a liar out of myself.

Now on to the music…


80’s Throwback

Going with the 80’s music today. I was a teenager, in high school and loving life.


Music and Eye Candy


I’m so ready for spring! I hate being cooped up in the house. There’s nothing better when you’re feeling blah then a hot man and good music. Enjoy!


Tuesday Tunes

I love my satellite radio and Pandora. No flipping endlessly through channels, trying to avoid stupid commercials that I’m not interested.

I’m over my pop phase. Honestly if I heard Stay With Me or the one about loving until the dude was 70, I was going to vomit. I enjoyed the sappy stuff at 16 when I had my first brush with love. Thank someone upstairs that I’m over that shit.

Since I love writing urban fantasy and paranormal, pretty little fluff music is the last thing I can listen to. It’s hard to have your H/H killing the bad guys with Taylor Swift talking about Blank Space.

I’ve recently discovered Lzzy Hale and Halestorm. Love…love…love the band. No offense to those who enjoy the lighter side of music but it’s not me. SO I thought I’d introduce some of you to who I’m listening to…and honestly sex with this music blaring in the background is soooo much hotter….






Writing about Love and Sex Part 2

Do soul mates really exist or is it just between the pages of a book? Soul mates, I think most people have thought about it at one time or another. Wondering if there is such a thing as someone who accepts, understands and knows you so well that it’s almost like magic.
Soul mates-Where you can tell exactly what your mate is thinking or if you can’t, you at least know there is something going on with them. Someone who when you met for the very first time you felt as if you’ve known them your whole life. A person who you can be totally honest with. Where you can tell them any and everything.
Where your heart skips a beat the second they walk through the door. Is it possible to look into your partner’s eyes and see all the love and joy reflected back at you? Where the slightest touch makes you tremble no matter how long you’ve been together.
The kind of person that when you make love you are in total sync. Where they instinctively know where and how to touch you and when they only want to give you pleasure they will ask you without embarrassment from either of you. The type of person who can make you laugh, love and maybe make you angrier than anyone else.
Do all these things mean they’re your soul mate, does it go beyond just loving them? It’s an interesting question to ponder.
When I write, labeling a couple as soul mates is pretty simple. Paranormal books are ripe with the idea of a perfect mate. The one and only, end all, be all. Werewolf’s and shifters usually discover their love interest this way. Done well it makes you long for that kind of feeling and intimacy.
I look at the question of soul mates this way. In books at least one half of the couple know they are destined to be together. Often described as an overwhelming need to be with that person. They don’t feel quite right whenever their mate is gone. Even before the words I love you enter the picture, the feelings are so intense, so unlike anything they’ve ever experienced before. They can’t fight it for long, they can’t explain it away. Sometimes it doesn’t even make sense, because one or both of the mated couple wouldn’t necessarily ever cross paths. But then they have a “meant to be scenario”.
It works in books because real life doesn’t get in the way. In real life people come together for a lot of reasons and love doesn’t necessarily play a major role. They may appear to fight it, they may try to deny it but deep down they know it’s true and it’s just a matter of time before they embrace it.
So the question remains-do I believe there is such a thing as a soul mate? Could I write about it if I didn’t believe it?  We’ve all known couples who have the things I described above and yet are no longer together. If they were indeed soul mates then why aren’t they still together? Does it mean if you experienced all that wonderful stuff with one person, will you find it with another?
Personally I think you can. I mean how fucking unfair would it be if you only got one shot at that kind of relationship and know that you will never have it again. It’s a pretty depressing thought. Is it really possible that with the billions of people on the planet that you are truly meant for one person and one person only? Is the idea of a soul mate nothing more than a highly romanticized ideal? A goal which can never be reached. Is it too ridiculous to really believe your are met for one particular person and that any other relationship will never rise to that level.


I do believe that you can have a crazy instant connection when you meet someone for the first time. That in that second when you’re face to face for the first time something magical happens. A real chemical reaction that sets every nerve ending on fire. It goes beyond sexual attraction. It’s a feeling of both excitement and coming home all wrapped into one. A certainty that nothing will ever be the same again.  It’s feeling instantly comfortable and knowing without a doubt that you can trust this person with anything you say or do because they will hoard all that you share, all that you mean to them. They would never intentionally harm you or cause you pain. Your pain becomes their pain. Your sadness becomes their sadness, and your joy and pleasure and dreams become theirs as well. And you do the same for them without thinking about it or questioning it.
Having said all that my answer to the question of whether I believe soul mates is a real or not is that I can honestly say anything is possible. Depending where we’re at in our lives, we may go back and forth on this issue. I generally side on the positive but in this area I just don’t know. My life experiences haven’t lent themselves to dream too much about the question. If you’ve ever been hurt, or betrayed to the point that it feels like a crushing blow it becomes almost impossible to be so optimistic.
Still the possibility is there and so I’m able to write about couples who are soul mates. The characters don’t have to think about whether or not they believe it because at the end of the story they always come to know it’s true. In books they vacillate between belief and non-belief but before the end they have come together and acknowledged they indeed have always known they were meant to be with their partner and there is no doubt about it.
When all is said and done, my personal belief about this question is irrelevant, because as I am writing the book about 2 people falling in love. I believe no matter how brief a time, soul mates can exist and they always have. When I write a romance there is one (or 3 in the case of ménage) soul mates. I love writing about this aspect of falling in love with someone. I want it to be believable, I want to give readers the hope that maybe it could happen to them or they may realize they already have it but had never put a label on it.
Do I believe soul mates really exist? If I’m being completely honest than I would answer YES. And in the world of the romance writer and reader it’s important to have faith that anything is possible within the realm of love. That everything we see, hear and experience, hopefully will help us grow and recognize when those “Soul Mates” enter our lives.

A Million Miles Away

Retro Movie Review: VALLEY GIRLValley Girl on AllMoviehypercolor archetype of 80s teen fashion, Valley Girl ‘s costumes ...Valley Girl trailer (1983)

Valley Girl. It was one of the first movies that I connected with as a teen. What could be better? A good girl falls for the bad boy. I understood the kids in this movie. I grew up where there were differences in class, in money. As we aged, I remained friends with some and parted ways with others.

A young Nick Cage, as a club kid, who wore dark clothes and colored his hair…YUMMY.  He didn’t give a shit and he exuded sexy, self-confidence. Unlike the Valley pricks of the movie. The polo wearing, collar up, pretty boys who were cocky, conceited and pretty much lying Dicks, who tried to be the tough and push everyone else around. I didn’t like those guys then and I really don’t like them now, because they do NOT grow out of it…ever. They carry that privilege and dumbassery into adulthood. I suppose it’s why I really didn’t date anyone around my age….Quite frankly, guys within a couple of years of me were and remain selfish, narcissistic assholes. who think entirely too much of themselves. So I tended to date either a little younger or a little older. Something about those preppy jocks in the early 80’s has always left a sour taste in my mouth.

But then there were the “Randy’s” The burgeoning punk rockers, the burn out boys, the guys on the “edge” that looking back today, were probably pretty tame. But to a 15 yr old girl they were the bomb.

I remember the drama club taking a play up to MSU and there were several schools from all over Michigan attending. I ended up meeting this boy ,we all called him Sid because he looked so much like the famous punk guitarist of the Sex Pistols. He had his nose pierced, which is no big deal in 2014. But in 1984 it was so different, so fucking cool. He had a lovely black mohawk and pale skin and I was smitten then entire weekend.

It’s these  kinds of bad boys that fuel our love for them as adult women. That little bit of danger and a lot of naughty. That fantasy of doing something out of the norm, against the rules and what polite society deems as normal. I think we’re all attracted to that little bit of bad. It adds a little spice, a little something extra. Safe is so B-O-R-I-N-G. There is no spark, no thrill and no anticipation. Writing a bad boy and reading about them give us s little bits of what we may not have in our life but would so love to.

Everyone is capable of being a little bad. The point is are you comfortable, confident enough to let the bad out? Do you have that kind of passion and curiosity? You’re born with it, you can’t be taught.

I’m a 40ish, mom of 3 high school kids but I could never be content behaving like a stepford mother. The thought makes me shiver. I have nothing against people who are, I mean I don’t have to live their lives so I’m not going to judge them….well ,okay, that’s not quiet true…I sorta make fun of them… a little. I wonder if they live exciting lives. Not fancy parties or exotic vacations. But I wonder if they have boring regular sex or are they totally nympho’s. Would a vibrator send them running from the room…lol.

My money’s on the first one but I bet they think they are of second variety-Of course I’ve talked to people who have 2 go to positions and an occasional , shall we say give an oral exam though they really don’t like it. I know people who think beyond that, everything else is yucky and I actually laugh.

No one can be that uptight without a reason-right? Talk about a cold place to be…

I don’t ever want to be boring. I’d rather appear less like a prim and proper lady and more like a female who likes to have fun.

In the end , I write bad boys because I like bad boys. I like the excitement, the anticipation, the surprise of what will happen next. I like that each day is different and it’s okay that I wear worn denim and tight shirts-HEY nothing’s popping out- and my black converse. I like my tatts and my piercings and I listen to my music louder than my kids do.

That I write Erotic Romance and I’m Damn proud to do so. And if you have the balls to give me one of your icy stares or disgusted eye roll then I won[‘t have any problem giving you the single fingered salute and tell you what I really think about your tight-assed opinions.

Because in the end Julie dumped her “Jock” when she finally woke up and realized she didn’t want to be like the people who lived in the valley. She wanted more and when she chose Randy (the bad boy) she chose more.

And if you’re so inclined here is the soundtrack for Valley Girl- which every 80’s girl should own.

Payola$ – Eyes Of A Stranger

Plimsouls – Million Miles Away   

I Melt With You

Valley Girl – I La La La Love You

Valley Girl – Eaten by the Monster of Love

Bonnie Hayes – Shelley’s Boyfriend

Josie Cotton – Johnny Are You Queer (totally Not PC)

The Flirts – Jukebox (Don’t Put Another Dime) Stereo

“girls like me” :: páll rokk

She Talks in Stereo Gary Myrick and The Figures

Sparks – Angst in My Pants

The Plimsouls – Oldest Story In The World – 1983





Tempt Me Wild

My new Club BBW book now available on Kindle.

Tempt Me Wild- Here is a peak

Rosie waited near the entrance of the stage trying not to wobble on the

ridiculous heels she was wearing. She fidgeted with the tight green dress she’d bought at the last moment for the occasion.

She was such a softy for charity events and this case was no different. The lineup of woman was blurry without her glasses and she prayed she wouldn’t trip and fall flat on her face.

Just as she was about to take the stage, one of the event planners pulled at her elbow.

“You don’t have to go up. Someone has purchased you sight unseen.” The wiry little man said smugly.

Purchased her? She wasn’t a whore for sale. This was supposed to be an auction for a date. Nothing more was required.

“Who bid on me?” She demanded, emphasizing the word bid.

The man shrugged his shoulders. “It was someone who wanted to remain anonymous. He phoned in the bid five minutes ago.”

“I hope he’s been checked out.” She certainly didn’t want to end up with some crazy man.

“I’ve been assured that he has been thoroughly vetted. Anyway, it wasn’t like he spent a fortune or anything. I’ve got the bid in my hand and you went for a cool thousand dollars.”

Her stomach dropped. Only one-thousand? The other girls who were being auctioned off were getting huge amounts of money. Compared to them she felt like a book in one of her bargain bins. Not worth much anymore. Her head began to ache and her embarrassment was at an all-time high. She’d never felt a case of the ugly ducklings like she was at this moment.

Rosie wasn’t under any delusions about how she looked. She was one of the curvier females here. She was a bookworm, a plain big- assed Jane. She was socially awkward and couldn’t care less about the latest fashions on the runway. They only fit size zero women anyway.

Size zero – she couldn’t even imagine being that tiny. Her mother told her it was unnatural to be that scrawny. Of course, there were plenty of others who thought she was way too healthy. It was the same old story – you have such a pretty face; now if you could lose some weight you’d be beautiful.

She wanted to throw up every time someone said that to her.

“Here,” he said, handing her an envelope. “Inside are the details about the date.”

She wobbled off the stage and took off her shoes as soon as she was out of sight. She went to the employees lounge in the club and retrieved her purse with her glasses in them. She sat at a small table and put them on. Opening the darn envelope, she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

The note was short. She would be picked up in the morning by a driver and she was to dress in comfortable and casual clothes. That’s it.

There was nothing more to it. She crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash. She was outta here. There was no way she was going to explain to anyone this strange event. Time to go home and order a pizza and drink a little wine.

tempt me wild