Man, it’s been a month since I updated. Where to start?
Okay… Conventions! Lori Foster was a blast! I dOwn…more like up and over, with the awesome PJ Schnydef, the effervescent Dana Marie Bell, the always on time Joy Harris. We stopped and snatched up Camille Anthony once we braved storm clouds, interesting directions, and road kill. I sm not ashamed to say that I didn’t sleep for over 24 hours… Thank God for Mac! D Renee Bagby was ther for the first hotel drop and wentwith me to get Camille. Ohio is a very large flat place.
We were slightly over burdened on the way home, but a wonderfuarc over artist… Gave Sandy a ride home and then it wasagent home so that PJ could make her business trip the next day (that woman never lets grass grow beneath her feet) athe for me to best the midnight dead line.?. Which I did after fretting lose in Dana’s neck of the woods (some of those houses reminded me of Edward Scissor hands) and I made it with time to spare. Don’t ask about the week that followed, I don’t remember much, but there was medicinal rum involved.
There was the Big Balticon Screw up! Not going into that but I might not be going to one of my favorite con’s next year until checks and balances are put into place. It kind of hurts that Philly treats me better than my own home town con. Sigh.
Next major con… Otakon!! And I am still recovering my house from my attack of Cosplayer Costuming! Feathes everywhere! And I only needed a few! I was not a both babe this year, I was plain encore panelist with PJ Schnyder. Had my babies with me…Through its getting hard to call them my babies when they are all bigger than me? At least I have my pseudo daughter there who is still smaller than me, thank you very much! Checkout the photo
Next up, Dragoncon! I get to be Mommy Long Legs! LOL Photos to surely follow!
Now I have my Changeling Press writing table…. A book every six weeks! Get ready to write!
The anthology, the zombie interracial post apocalypse erotic thriller was a bust. Sigh. But I love my story so I am sending it elsewhere soon. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Now for the excerpts! We got a lot, starting with How Not To Date a Human!Enjoy them and as always, tell me what you think!
“Oh God, yes,” McCabe could barely hold in the moans that were rolling form his throat. And really, why would he want to?
His lover’s mouth was wet and hot despite the latex barrier that separated him from the real pleasure of her mouth.
But it was worth the battier to keep her safe.
Her fingers ran up his spread thighs her nails scratching lightly at the sensitive flesh as his head rolled from side to side on the scattered pillows.
“Fuck, baby,” he gasped as her fingers trailed high enough to cup his balls, tugging gently at the rolling orbs within his sac. “Gonna make me come.”
Spooky, of course, was silent to polite to speak with her mouth full or too busy showcasing her oral expertise, but he really didn’t care with. She was going to make the top of his head explode.
He licked his lips, still tasting the spicy flavor of her, recalling how she rode his face, fucked his tongue as he held her over him.
He closed his eyes and shuddered as the memory of her thighs on either side of his head, squeezing as her hands fisted in his long hair was enough to bring him closer to his inevitable climax.
He thought of the ring still sitting in his pants pocket and almost cackled in glee. His plan was working, just not in the order he devised,
First, he was supposed to delight her with his culinary skills, something that shocked most people that he actually had. After all, who ever thought that a construction worker/show magician would do anything more than lift weights and practice slight of hand? But he could cold cook and the four course meal he had produced more than proved it.
The next thing was confession. He had a dozy of a secret and it was bound to make any normal woman run screaming from the room. But his Spooky was not normal—well average at any rate.
Spooky Love was the best thing that ever happened to him. He met her when he and his crew were hired to resign office space at a scientific lab called Deci Corp little more than two years ago. His boss, knowing that he held a master’s degree in Engineering felt that he could bridge the gap between the layman and the academic elite when it came to explaining the can and can not’s of their plan. It was at one of these meetings that he met Ms. Spooky Love, three masters degrees and a disdain for anything or anyone not giving their all.
She had taken one look at his written proposal and wondered out loud why he was not publishing. “Publish or die,” she reminded him, and he found himself telling her of his academic burn out.
“At your age?” she sounded skeptical.
“I got my bachelors’ when I was thirteen,” he told the sad tale. “And then it was non stop school, pressure from my peers when I was better at them in something, pressure from the schools who used me like a poster child for their training techniques, and finally the whole no being credited for my theory’s because my academic advisor felt that I was too young to understand what my name going on a study could mean. I found myself standing on the roof of the science building with the intent to take a long walk when I was almost beamed with a brick. I mean, not a small ornamental one, but a huge frigging foundation type bring. Then I noticed how ill put together the building actually was. So I came down off the ledge, put in a safety complaint with the powers that be, and instead walked off campus. I was twenty-two when I discovered that I felt a lot better about using my intelligence if I could make it so that no buildings would collapse on people and that was that. I never looked back.”
Spooky thought his story was interesting enough to learn more over lunch, and then dinner, and then breakfast.
He thought that she would complete her intellectual slumming and then move on, leaving him a little colder but grateful for the opportunity to get up close and personal with her, but within a month, shared breakfast was a common occurrence.
That she moved in with him was a miracle, and that she stayed was a blessing that he never discounted.
So almost a year later, he knew that Spooky was the one woman he would spend the rest of his life loving.
And that was step three of his plan. But that kind of got sidetracked when he presented her favorite desert. She made such erotic noises consuming the crème brule that he had to take advantage.
She was no more than three spoons in when he had her panties tossed across the room as was between her legs, eating at her shaved pussy, sucking on her clit and drinking down her juices as she came spectacularly, riding his face on the dining room floor.
The condoms were in the bedroom; so he slung her over his shoulder and tossed her to the bed, ready to wrap it and fuck her senseless, when she changed the rules.
She grabbed the flavored condoms and began to devour him, trying to draw his soul thought his cock.
And now, as he balls drew up under her encouraging hand, as her finger between his spread cheeks and traced over his hole, he knew that would drop down on his knees and beg her to marry him, even if he wasn’t so damn in love with her.
“Spooks,” he panted, his chest heaving as he tightened a hand in her hair. “God, Spooks baby! Gonna come—gonna come, baby!”
She increased her suction, her dark hair clinging to her forehead with sweat, and looked up at him, her golden brown eyes glowing with pleasure.
Yeah, she had control of him and she knew it.
She groaned as she shoved a finger in his ass, striking his prostrate as she swallowed him down balls deep.
He was lost, he threw back his head and gave in to the urge to thrust deep and let go.
He cried out as his hips thrust forward, his muscles tightened, and his nerves began a pleasurable burn.
He groaned as his cock spasmed, shooting his seed into the tight condom, the only sounds in the room were his rough panting and her steady swallowing—
Swallowing? Fuck no! The condom broke!
“Spooky!” he gasped, his post orgasmic lethargy leaving him as she sat up and stared down at his lover.
“What?” she purled, looking like the cat that had run down, caught and then ate the damn canary.
“Not bad, Masterson,” she chucked, licking her lips. “Kind of like strawberries with a hint of lemon and a sweet aftertaste. Is this what you have been depriving me of all this past year? Now that I got it straight from the source, I am going to want to do this again and again.”
Then all hell broke loose.