I met the sweetest couple in Walmart the other day, where I was doing my weekly grocery shopping. We were standing at the deli. They were getting their order, and I was waiting for my turn. The man was doing the ordering. His wife was just standing there, waiting patiently, looking around. We made eye contact a half a dozen times and just smiled at each other. After a while she came over and paid me a wonderful compliment!

She said every time she looked at me she couldn't help notice how pretty my skin was. I thanked her and said I would be fifty-five this year. She informed me she was eighty-nine. And then went on to say she wished her skin looked as nice, and mentioned she wasn't wearing any makeup. For an 89 year old woman she looked great, and I told her so. She mentioned she'd recently had cancer surgery on her face, and seemed to be very self conscious over it. I looked closer at her, and finally noticed the three little bandages on her cheek.

I hadn't even noticed them before, they were so close to the color of her skin. She seemed so relieved when I told her that. It was then I noticed how well dressed she was, her tasteful jewelry, and perfect hair. Her husband appeared just as well groomed. It was clear they'd had a good, prosperous life together.

Before she left she told me her husband was ninety-six, and that he still drove. I was amazed at how young they appeared, how they moved without canes or walkers. How they took care of their appearance. Not that the elderly turn into slobs, or anything. But some do tend to fall into the comfortable routine of wearing moo moos, shorts and socks. You know it's true. Nothing wrong with that either. I'll be one of them because comfort, over fashion, is everything to me:)

I'm Editing!

And you know what that means. My editor's been in touch and we've begun work on Breathless Surrender. Still no release date yet.

It's my Friday! Whoohoo! Even though I have a busy day ahead tomorrow, I'm going to enjoy my sy-fy Saturday in my jammies this weekend. Last week I was painting at my daughter's house.

Chocolate!

I need chocolate, and I need it now! Ever had a craving so bad that it consumed you? I've been craving something chocolate all day and by golly, I'm going to head to the kitchen right now and make me some brownies! With nuts!

Tootles!

THE RULES OF RURAL MAINE

Being that I'm from Maine I just had to post this...

Listen up City Slickers!

1. Pull your droopy-ass pants up. You look like an idiot.

2. Turn your cap around straight .. your head isn't crooked.

3. Let's get this straight; it's called a 'dirt road.' I drive a pickup truck because I want to. No matter how slow you drive, you're going to get dust on your Lexus. Drive it or get out of the way.

4. They are cattle. They're live steaks. That's why they smell funny to you. But they smell like money to us. Get over it. Don't like it? I-95 goes north and south.

5. So you have a $60,000 car ... we're impressed. We have $150,000 potato harvesters that are driven only 3 weeks a year.

6. So every person in rural Maine waves. It's called being friendly. Try to understand the concept.

7. If that cell phone rings while an 8-point buck and 3 does are coming in, we WILL shoot it out of your hand. You better hope you don't have it up to your ear at the time.

8. Yeah, we eat taters & gravy, beans & biscuits, and homemade pie. You really want sushi & caviar? It's available at Jim's bait shop.

9. The 'Opener' refers to the first day of deer season. It's a religious holiday held the closest Saturday to the first of November.

10. We open doors for women. That is applied to all women, regardless of age.

11. No, there's no 'vegetarian special' on the menu. Order steak or lobstah. Or, you can order the Chef's Salad and pick off the 2 pounds of ham & turkey.

12. When we fill out a table, there are three main dishes: meats, vegetables, and breads. We use three spices - salt, pepper, and ketchup. Oh, yeah ... We don't care what you folks in New Jersey call that stuff you eat ... IT AIN'T REAL CHILI!!

13. You bring 'coke' into my house, it better be brown, wet and served over ice.

14. You bring ' Mary Jane' into my house, she better be cute, know how to shoot, drive a truck, and have long hair.

15. College and high school football are as important here as the Patriots and the Celtics and more fun to watch.

16. Yeah, we have golf courses. But don't hit the water hazards ... it spooks the fish.

17. Colleges? We have them all over. We have State Universities , Community Colleges, and Voc-techs. They come outta there with an education plus a love for God and Country, and they still wave to everybody when they come home for the holidays.

18. Turn down that blasted car stereo! That thumpity-thump crap ain't music anyway. We don't want to hear it any more than we want to see your boxers. (Refer back to #1.)

19. Four inches of snow isn't a blizzard - it's a flurry. Drive in it like you got some sense, and DON'T take all our bread, milk, and bleach off the grocery shelves. This ain't Alaska ! Worst case ... you may have to live a whole day without croissants. Anyway ... the pickups with snowplows will have you out the next day.

20. By the way ... if you want to talk to God in Maine , it's a local call. :)

Monday Man Candy

Wow!!! Nice package he has.

My daughter has some nerve...

I told her so, too! I'm going to start taking care of Alivia on Fridays, and most of you know my daughter is expecting another baby. We were talking on the phone and she asked me if I was sure I would be up to keeping two kids every Friday. I laughed and said, once upon a time, many years ago, I had a little girl and I took care of her every day. You know what she had the nerve to say? Yeah but, you weren't fifty-five then either! We both laughed, and I set her straight on that count right quick.

Redneck Love Poem

SUSIE LEE DONE FELL IN LOVE,
SHE PLANNED TO MARRY JOE.
SHE WAS SO HAPPY 'BOUT IT ALL,
SHE TOLD HER PAPPY SO.

PAPPY TOLD HER, SUSIE GAL,
YOU'LL HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER..
I'D JUST AS SOON YO' MA DON'T KNOW,
BUT JOE IS YO' HALF BROTHER.

SO SUSIE PUT ASIDE HER JOE
AND PLANNED TO MARRY WILL.
BUT AFTER TELLING PAPPY THIS,
HE SAID, 'THERE'S TROUBLE STILL.'

YOU CAN'T MARRY WILL, MY GAL,
AND PLEASE DON'T TELL YO' MOTHER.
BUT WILL AND JOE, AND SEVERAL MO'
I KNOW IS YO' HALF BROTHER..

BUT MAMA KNEW AND SAID, MY CHILD,
JUST DO WHAT MAKES YO' HAPPY.
MARRY WILL OR MARRY JOE;
YOU AIN'T NO KIN TO PAPPY.

GUILTY?

No I have not seen your lipstick, why would you even ask me that? I'm insulted! Every time something goes missing around here, everybody looks at me!

It's All in the Jeans...excerpt

Recalling her tears, he walked up to the door, telling himself all he wanted to do was make sure she was okay. He opened the screen door and rapped his knuckles against the door, listening for movement on the other side. It sounded like the TV was on. He waited, and then knocked again. And that’s when Logan heard Libby scream. Not once, but several ear piercing shrieks in rapid succession.

He didn’t hesitate. Adrenaline kicked into overdrive and he pushed the door open, rushing into the kitchen and beyond. Her screams directed him toward the back of the house where he knew the bedrooms were located. He came to the end of the hallway where it split off, leading to two bedrooms. He halted.

“Libby! Where are you?”

“Logan!”

He could clearly hear the surprise in her tone. He followed her voice into one of the rooms, his eyes taking in his surroundings, not seeing Libby anywhere. Then his gaze landed on something on the floor that was straight out of a sci-fi movie. It appeared to be the melted form of a human body, and Logan knew immediately that it had to be Libby’s body suit.

“Shoo…don’t move!” He heard her say in a tone thick with alarm. “I’m in the bathroom!” she hollered. “Please hurry!”

Logan sprinted to the open door on the other side of the room, halting in the threshold. His eyes zeroed in on Libby immediately. She was standing on the commode, hiding behind a small pink towel that didn’t disguise the fact she was naked. Her hair was loose, resembling a wildfire out of control. Their eyes met briefly. He acknowledged the fear in hers before movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to lower his gaze to the floor.

Coiled in the corner next to the door was a black snake he gauged to be about three feet long. He knew at once it wasn’t poisonous.

“I was just about to take a shower when I saw it,” Libby gasped from her position. “Get it out but don’t hurt it.” She looked damn cute cowering there, terrified of the reptile yet concerned for its safety at the same time.

Grinning, Logan’s eyes met hers again. “Afraid of a little snake?”

“Afraid of any snake!”

He bent to grab it.

“Don’t hurt it!” she reminded him sharply.

He halted, glancing back at her, a thought coming to mind. “What’s it worth to you if I don’t hurt it?” He shouldn’t have, but he purposely let his eyes drop down her body and back up again. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Libby naked, only there was something very sexy about her trying to hide behind an inadequate towel. The curve of her breasts was visible at the sides, as was the indentation of her waist and curve of her hips.

His visual caress continued, taking in the length of her shapely thighs and legs beneath the edge of the pink cloth. He felt a stirring south of his belt but ignored it. He hadn’t come there to make love to Libby. His eyes darted back up to hers. She knew what she was doing to him. He’d started out teasing her, only the joke was on him the second she dropped her towel.

“Ooops!”

There was nothing innocent about Libby, not her breathless exclamation or the brazen fire blazing in her eyes. A laugh burst from Logan, echoing sharply against the small tiled walls. All the while his eyes roamed over her perfect form like a starved man, gaining nourishment through his sense of sight. She gasped, blushing.

It occurred to Logan that she might be embarrassed over her daring move. His eyes returned to hers, not missing the impish gleam shining in them. There wasn’t a shy bone in Libby’s body. She stood there proudly, all but daring Logan to do something about it. She was a bewitching witch, turning the tables on him before he saw it coming.

Arousal exploded through him like fireworks on the Fourth of July. “You’re playing with fire,” he croaked.

“You started it.”

She was right. Only before he could do anything about it the snake began to uncoil from its position, drawing both their attention.

“Logan…”

He quickly scooped the reptile up from the floor, thankful for the interruption. Libby had too much power over him. It was bad enough he couldn’t be around her five minutes without wanting her, but she was also messing with his mind, and worse, his heart. Ignoring the hunger she’d unleashed, he left the room to get rid of the snake. It didn’t take him long to reach the side door that lead to the back of the house. Opening it, he set the snake down on the first step and closed the door again.

By the time he made it back to the bedroom he heard the water running, realizing Libby was in the shower. Logan hesitated, struggling between continuing into the bathroom and turning around to leave. His hard-on decided it for him. He kicked off his shoes while reaching for the hem to his shirt. He whipped it over his head, tossing it on her bed as he walked by. Without missing a move his hands moved to his belt, quickly unbuckling it and bringing the zipper down. He reached the bathroom doorway, taking a moment to roll his jeans down and kick them away.

He paused, enjoying the sight of Libby behind the frosted glass of the shower door. He could see enough to know she was rinsing her hair. Then she reached for the body wash, and with hungry eyes Logan watched her run the soapy puff over her neck and down her breasts. His penis jumped as though saying, what are you waiting for? What was he waiting for? When her hands glided down to the dark curls between her legs his knees grew weak with desire. He opened the door. Libby’s hands halted. The invitation was in her eyes. Logan stepped into the stall and closed the door behind him.

Words weren’t necessary. The look on her face told him Libby was already turned on. Her lips were parted, her eyes half closed. Her nipples were like rosy berries against her quivering breasts. Streams of soap trailed down her body as it was rinsed away with the spray of water falling on her. His gaze dropped, taking in her shapely form, the glistening hair between her legs. He reached out, wrapping an arm around her tiny waist and jerking her against him.

Her head fell back, a sharp gasp escaping her. Logan swooped down and covered her mouth with his. That was all it took for the passion to erupt between them. And they were kissing like it was their first, their last. Sounds of mutual pleasure filled the room as their tongues battled in a dance as old as time. Logan thrust his hips, his full erection jabbing between Libby’s quivering thighs. His hands closed over her breasts, squeezing gently. But it was Libby’s gentle hands cupping his balls that pushed him over the edge.

A fire of need fueled his blood with a gut-wrenching need. His hands moved to Libby’s waist and he pushed her away. Their eyes met. They were both gasping for breath. Then Logan flipped her around and pushed her against the wall. Her gasp was a mixture of pleasure and surprise. He could only imagine how the cool tile felt against her hot, wet flesh, her stimulated nipples. His hands caressed down her arms. He took hold of her wrists and slowly pulled her arms up until her palms were flush against the tile over her head.

Logan leaned into her, his hard flesh eager to explore the soft folds of her buttocks. Libby cried out softly and tried to turn around, but he held her firmly in place. His heart was pounding like a jackhammer and he leaned in close, running his open mouth along the side of her throat up to her ear. His teeth nibbled at her lobe as he whispered, “Am I hurting you?”

“God, no!” Libby gasped, shuddering wildly. As though to prove her point she thrust her bottom back into his erection, rotating her hips. A soft moan escaped her, a groan escaped him.

Logan slowly released her wrists, confident now that she would remain where he wanted her. His hands trailed down her arms and shoulders, continuing down her sides and over her hips. Libby twitched, causing him to smile.

“Ticklish?”

She nodded.

His hands glided smoothly around to the front of her, his fingers splaying over her flesh as they moved along. Ever so slowly his hands smoothed downward, between Libby’s thighs, then back up to the most intimate part of her. She quivered beneath his touch, gasping sharply when his fingers slipped inside her, teasing her, testing her. Driving her wild.

“Logan!”

Men Are Just Happier People

I disagree but still thought this was cute.

NICKNAMES
* If Laura, Kate and Sarah go out for lunch, they will call each other Laura, Kate and Sarah.

* If Mike, Dave and John go out, they will affectionately refer to each other as Fat Boy, Bonehead and Gopher Man.

EATING OUT
* When the bill arrives, Mike, Dave and John will each throw in $20, even though it's only for $32.50. None of them will have anything smaller and none will actually admit they want change back.

* When the girls get their bill, out come the pocket calculators.

MONEY
* A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs.

* A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't need but it's on sale.

BATHROOMS
* A man has six items in his bathroom: toothbrush and toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a towel.

* The average number of items in the typical woman's bathroom is 337. A man would not be able to identify more than 20 of these items.

ARGUMENTS
* A woman has the last word in any argument.

* Anything a man says after that is the beginning of a new argument.

FUTURE
* A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband.

* A man never worries about the future until he gets a wife.

SUCCESS
* A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend.

* A successful woman is one who can find such a man.

MARRIAGE
* A woman marries a man expecting he will change, but he doesn't.

* A man marries a woman expecting that she won't change, but she does.

DRESSING UP
* A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the trash, answer the phone, read a book, and get the mail.

* A man will dress up for weddings and funerals.

NATURAL
* Men wake up as good-looking as they went to bed.

* Women somehow deteriorate during the night.

OFFSPRING
* Ah, children. A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments and romances, best friends, favorite foods, secret fears and hopes and dreams.

* A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house.

Jury Duty

Had jury duty today. Even though I was assigned to a judge by noon they dismissed my whole group. And we were the only panel not used. This was the third time for me, and so far I haven't been on any juries. Today I had the potential for being a juror for a murder trial. I wouldn't mind the experience of being a juror, but I'm not sure I'd want to be one in a murder trial.

This one especially. The worse mass murderer in Polk County, the accused is being tried on five counts of murder, and setting two women on fire during a robbery in an insurance office. Both women died and one of them was almost six months pregnant. The judge who swore us in said they expected that trial to go seven to eight weeks.

I don't mind doing my civic duty but that would have been a tough trial to sit through.

Monday Man Candy

I know I've posted these before but I was just curious...which backside view of steel buns is your favorite? They're both yummy, I'm drooling now, but there's something about the fisherman that really gets to me. Damn...wouldn't I like to come across something like him in the wilderness!

An older, tired-looking dog wandered into my yard. I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home and was well taken care of. He calmly came over to me, I gave him a few pats on his head; he then followed me into my house, slowly walked down the hall, curled up in the corner and fell asleep.

An hour later, he went to the door, and I let him out.

The next day he was back, greeted me in my yard, walked inside and resumed his spot in the hall and again slept for about an hour. This continued off and on for several weeks. Curious I pinned a note to his collar: 'I would like to find out who the owner of this wonderful sweet dog is and ask if you are aware that almost every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap.'

The next day he arrived for his nap, with a different note pinned to his collar:
'He lives in a home with 6 children, 2 under the age of 3 - he's trying to catch up on his sleep. Can I come with him tomorrow?'

A Reader's Review

I loved Talk Dirty To Me. I read it last night after everyone went to bed. It was great. I will definitely recommend it as a must read. Thank you.

Natalie

I love hearing from you folks, anytime!

I went to the VA hospital in Tampa with hubby on Thursday. A trip I hope not to make with him again anytime soon, because it brought to reality the horrible outcome of what some of our service men and women sacrificed while serving our country.

I'm not naive. Both my dad and step-father served, my hubby, his two oldest sons, friends...so many others I know who have gone to war for our country. I've seen the pictures they brought home, and can't count the times while watching the history channel that hubby has said, that was my ship...I was there...

But seeing what the outcome is for some, with my own eyes, impacted me in a huge way. It was pouring rain by the time we arrived at the hospital. It's a long walk from the parking lot so I let hubby off at the door, and decided to wait in the car for him. I moved it out of the way, but stayed close enough to see when he was at the door. During that time I just watched.

The rain pelting down on my windshield did nothing to disguise the many veterans in wheelchairs that I saw coming, and going through that door. A woman limped through the rain with a cane, her left leg as straight and stiff as wood. One elderly man without legs wheeled himself out the door to a waiting van. Many didn't seem to have anything physically wrong with them.

I couldn't help wonder what happened to each person I saw. What was their story? Where did they serve? I know my hubby survived a sinking ship, and being shot, but what about the mental injuries we can't see? It's hard to imagine what each service person has locked up inside their minds, and hearts. And how some of them struggle to get through each day with those memories.

Night Owl Romance Winner...hotcha12

Congratulations! Email me at tory.richards@yahoo.com to claim your copy of Talk Dirty to Me.

Project of the day was to create something from memory...

Isabel Roman

Is my guest today friends, and she's here to talk about her Erotic Historical Paranormal Romance. I know y'all will make her feel welcome.


The suggested topics for my guest blog today were:
the importance of research
the power of promotion
coming up with a good title

If I were to write “coming up with a good title” it would go something like this.

*ahem*

• Save file as Druids 2
• Bang head against wall
• Continue to bang head against wall and hope something falls out that’s a title and not an important part of your writing brain cause let’s face facts, it’s the only thing of importance up there.
• Come up with something along the lines of Birthrite as an acceptable title and hope to the goddess of titles that someone somewhere along the editing chain comes up with something better.

See? A very short, very uninteresting blog.

Instead, I’ll regale you with Sex and Victorian Fashion

Corsets, bustles, hoopskirts, and miles and miles of fabric. How did anyone ever have sex? All cumbersome to handle and in the way of the hero and heroine’s desire. As an author in historical romances, paranormal and otherwise, I’ve given this much more thought than is healthy.

How does our intrepid heroine allow the hero access to her body without a team of engineers to undo her? It’s not easy!

There are four myths about Victorian clothing and sex:

1. No, you can’t tug on the lacing of the corset and expect the entire thing to come undone. A corset is a rigid undergarment whose entire purpose is to torture the wearer; the Victorian version of a chastity belt. (Which were probably myths, too, unless you watch Robin Hood: Men in Tights.)

2. You can not, not, not lift a Victorian skirt, no matter the time, and expect to encounter anything more than yet more fabric. A lady very well trained in dressing and undressing herself could possibly extricate herself from a layer or two. With time. But an inexperienced man will never, ever get to the moist center.

3. Laying down on any surface still clothed. There’s that bustle or really large Scarlett O’Hara hoop to contend with. Lying down while fully clothed would not happen. There’s a reason women fainted to their sides; even they knew landing on their bustled rump would ruin a perfectly good faint. So having your hero push her onto a convenient desk…no.

4. Redressing. If your hero was a lady’s maid in previous life then that’s one thing. Okay, he could have also been schooled by a lady’s maid, but if he’s not, or hasn’t been, then he’ll never ever be able to redress his lover. All those buttons and lace and eyehooks and ugh. No. And nothing screams beacon of ravishment quite like being shoddily redressed.

So, in my learned experience of trying to write several spontaneous sex scenes with clothed Victorians (since it’s frowned upon to walk around naked in the late 1800s) my advice would be: Teach the hero enough about Victorian undergarments to be able to get through the miles and miles of fabric. Or have a lady’s maid conveniently available. One who’s bribable. Or possibly mute. Take your pick.

A Very Short & Hot Excerpt from Desert and Destiny (available in September, 2010) involving clothes and flat surfaces:

Angry sex seemed to be the only thing between them and yet, when he kissed her, she lost all reason. She didn’t understand it, hated it, but was helpless to resist her body’s pull to him.

“Gareth.” Only partly aware of the moan, she slid her fingers under his coat, ripping buttons on his shirt, exposing his hard chest to her greedy touch. Despite the bustle, he managed to sit her on the desk, bunching her dress about her hips and exposing her sex to his touch. His fingers teased her, pumping in and out of her in short strokes until she almost begged for more.

He pulled her against him, spreading her legs wide as his mouth tasted down her neck, tongue laving the tops of her breasts. The tip of his cock pressed against her opening, but he did not enter her. Her breath was short, constricted by the corset and her unfulfilled need, but she refused to beg.

“Say it,” he demanded, fingers on her again, rolling her nub. She strained against him, lips pressed hard together to keep from calling out.

Dark Desires of the Druids: Sex & Subterfuge available now in bookstores! And be sure to check out Isabel’s free story!


Blurb for Sex and Subterfuge-
A master magicker, Morgana Blackthorne has a tenuous hold on her following. When a strange Englishman arrives on her doorstep with news of other druidic magickers, and magicker problems, she’s intrigued but suspicious. There hasn’t been contact between the American and European druids in over a hundred years. Plus she has her own worries and doesn’t need the handsome earl adding to them.

Lucien, Earl of Granville, left England to seek out the Blackthorne Druid line and discover what they’ve been up to since contact was lost. Once he and Morgana meet, their mutual attraction distracts him from his purpose. Embroiled in her problems, he finds himself more concerned with her welfare than is practical for a passing affair.

When I invited you into my bed, it never occurred to me I wouldn’t want you to leave.

There are darker forces at work and the hunger of a weak magicker desperate for power. Will Lucien convince Morgana of his true feelings before things spiral out of control? Or will the surrounding subterfuge tear them apart?

Excerpt for Sex and Subterfuge-
“Lucien Harrington,” Jacobs, her butler, intoned, “the Earl of Granville.”

Smiling, Morgana swept out of the circle, stepping into the foyer, and greeted her guest. His timing was off, but as the magicker she knew him to be, not suspect.

“Welcome, Lord Granville,” she said, offering a slight curtsy.

He was tall, with dark blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a sharp nose over which he looked down at her. Her eyes traveled over his face, down his body, clothed in immaculately tailored Savile Row, back to his face. Arousal pooled hot in her belly.

She’d never wanted any man. Yet Morgana wanted Lord Granville. Her skin prickled at his nearness, her womb clenched with want.

Forcing her mind off his body, she studied his face. Briefly, want flashed in his eyes and she smiled a truly wicked smile at him. It was gone as fast as it’d shone and she returned to studying him. There was grief hidden deep in his eyes, along with suspicion and weariness. Tilting her head, she wondered what caused those emotions. Suspicion she could easily understand. It’d been more than a hundred and thirty years since their families had any contact. Though, since he’d sought her out, she should be more suspicious of him.

“Mistress Blackthorne,” he bowed over her offered hand. Flicking a glance behind her, he said, “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Morgana smiled. She could all but feel David’s displeasure. Suppressing a giddy smile, she took Lord Granville’s arm and led him into the parlor. “We’re about to begin the New Moon Ritual. Do you still practice it in England?”

Looking up at him with guileless eyes, she waited for his confusion, gratified when it sparked briefly in those bottomless depths. Damn them all. She could be as gracious as she liked, but in the end, resentment bubbled to the surface. They’d abandoned her ancestors to indentured servitude and hadn’t bothered to contact any of them since.

“I’m afraid we lost that custom when we lost the valuable Blackthorne line.”

Morgana raised her eyebrow at him as they entered the parlor. Wasn’t he the diplomat?

“Would you care to join the ritual, Lord Granville?”

He bowed again and smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Blackthorne.”

Hey folks, head on over to Night Owl Romance's Blog and leave a comment on my post. Some lucky reader will win a download of Talk Dirty to Me.

Scratch the french doors, darn it! Contract bids for converting the garage into a room came in. New city codes and ordinances, which seem to change at the blink of an eye, have jacked up a fairly small project into one royal,expensive headache. Not to mention disappointment.

I could envision those french doors in place of the garage door, and all the light they would let in. Apparently the new codes require an architect to draw up the plans, which then have to be approved, inspected...blah, blah, blah! The architect drawing alone was seven hundred dollars. What are they smoking?

Well, I'm not going to let them defeat me! I spoke to the contractor, the one my daughter and I both liked, and we came up with an alternative I can live with.

More to come later...

Website Updates!

Hey my friends. My website has just been updated for July if you're interested in checking it out.

Tootles!

Monday Man Candy

OMG...OMG...OMG...OMG...now this is one hunky soldier! Let me at him!

If you've ever done remodeling at your house then you can probably relate, and yes sympathize, with what we're going through right now. I had three contractors come out yesterday to look at what we want done and to give estimates. When the first one arrived, three minutes early, my daughter laughed and said, he's a keeper! (The one we had come out last week was supposed to be here at 9:00, at 2:00 he called and said he forgot.) The other two were almost as prompt, but none of them had the same things to say.

We're converting the garage into a room, taking down the garage doors and replacing it with a double set of french doors. A wall will also have to be added to box in the water heater and air conditioner unit. I'll do my own painting and the carpet will be installed last.

There is one outside wall that will need to be insulated, another that only half will need to be done. Two contractors said we needed insulation in that half wall, one said it was already insulated. One said we needed electrical outlets every 6 feet, another said every 8 feet. One mentioned the septic tank might not be big enough and of course I said, there isn't going to be a bathroom in the room. He said it didn't matter, it went by the size of the house. One contractor said he could do the job in one week, another said three days and the third said it would take him three weeks.

This morning when my daughter went to pick up the portable air conditioner unit I bought she asked for the spec sheets on the french doors we bought. She was told there aren't any because the doors aren't hurricane resistant. Now these are outside doors, why in the world would they (a big home builder supply place who will remain nameless) sell outside doors that aren't hurricane resistant, if the county requires it when you're building?

So now I might have to return them for something else because the first contractor said the inspector will require them to be hurricane proof. Or change my plans, which we do have another option.

Monday I will receive their bids. My daughter and I really liked contractor number one so I'm hoping I can work something out with him. Keep your fingers crossed that this project will only cost an arm, and not an arm and a leg:)

Hope everyone has a terrific, stress free weekend!

Awe...too sweet!

The Seven Most Important Men in a Woman's Life

1. The Doctor - who tells her to "take off all her clothes."

2. The Dentist - who tells her to "open wide."

3. The Milkman - who asks her "do you want it in the front or the back?"

4. The Hairdresser - who asks her "do you want it teased or blown?"

5. The Interior Designer - who assures her "once it's inside, you'll LOVE it!"

6. The Banker - who insists to her "if you take it out too soon, you'll lose interest!"

7. The Primal Hunter - who always goes deep into the bush, always shoots twice, always eats what he shoots, but keeps telling her "Keep quiet and lie still!"

At a Bar.......

Having already downed a few power drinks, she turns around, faces him, looks him straight in the eye and says, "Listen here good looking, I screw anybody, anytime, anywhere, your place, my place, in the car, front door, back door, on the ground, standing up, sitting down, naked or with clothes on, it doesn't matter to me. I just love it !!!!!!"

Eyes now wide with interest, he responds, "No kidding. I'm in Politics too."

I saw this movie for the first time at my daughter's place this past weekend. I actually watched it twice. At first I wasn't sure I liked it. Was kind of slow in the beginning. But then, as I got further into the movie, I found myself sucked in. There was something mesmerizing about it and I couldn't take my eyes off it the second time I watched it. I can't wait to see the other two.

Now I have something to read when I report for jury duty this month. Have you seen how thick these books are?

Just found out that Maria Durst is my winner for an autographed copy of The Cowboy Way, for the 4th of July Blog Hop! Congratulations! I'll be in contact with you:)

Monday Man Candies...

Whoohoo...what a treat! Let's see, eenie...meenie...minie...moe...

JUMP ON THE TOUR BUS!

Okay friends, join in the fun and click on the link below to discover and explore other blogs this weekend. As you can see below prizes are being offered up at the end of the blog hop tour. Have fun!


http://booknibbles.com/blogtour/


PRIZES UP FOR GRABS:
Choice of back list by Olivia Brynn
Intimate Strangers by Gem Sivad
Midnight's Ghost by Sara Brooks
$5 MBaM gift certificate from Hailey Edwards
Winner's choice of back list by Trina M. Lee
Star Spangled Kiss, (Kissin Cops 2) by Christa Page
Scent of the Roses by PG Forte
The Virtuous Vampire by Monette Michaels
Winner's choice of back list by Juniper Bell
Winner's choice of back list by Tina Holland
Copy of First Heat by Jocelyn Modo
An autographed copy of The Cowboy Way from Tory Richards
Ex Appeal by Cari Quinn
Witch Hunter by Lyn Armstrong
Felicia's Fling by Jolie Cain
Winner's choice of back list by Dee Carney
Winner's choice by Tina Donahue (info via email)
Rhythm of Love by J. Hali Steele
Sacred Secrets by Roxy Harte
Winner's choice of back list by Elise Logan
One Wilde Night by Rhonda Leah
The Omegas by Annie Nicholas
The Bargain by Desiree Holt



How do you like this eye candy? Talk about yummy buns of steel!