Layout Image
Layout Image

Author Archive for admin – Page 2

Yippee

By admin
Sunday, September 23rd, 2007
Sylvia Day Icon

I felt pretty good this weekend. :)

I’m caught up on my deadlines (finally!) and I’m getting caught up on the delayed housework, etc. I finagled my hubby into working for me this weekend. Here’s what I posted on my chat loop:

So…

Today, I’m standing on the threshold of the master bedroom trying to pinpoint the source of my clutter. It is immediately clear that the piles of books everywhere are causing the ruckus in my peaceful retreat. Books, books, and more books. Everywhere.

I walk into my walk-in closet (which is solely mine. Hubby has to use the one downstairs, because I need the whole space), and try to find some place to put my books. (Hubby has his own bookshelves in the “man cave” — AKA the finished garage with pool table, TV, sofa, etc.) I note that there is a 3 foot gap between the top shelf of my closet and its ceiling. I think, “Hmm… could put shelves up there.”

As if on cue, hubby comes upstairs and asks for LOVER UNBOUND.

I reply, “Must work for books.”

He rumbles, “Syl…” (in his “I am the man, hear me roar” voice.)

I smile. “You build me shelves, I give you book.”

He grumbles, “Syl…” (in his “I’m not going to win this one, but damned if I won’t keep trying” voice.)

Suffice it to say that the table saw is now buzzing merrily outside and I am sending a silent thank-you to J.R. for my new bookshelves. *g*

So today, I ran around and collected all the various piles of books that had been accumulating and put them in my new bookshelves. Hubby came in and went, “Damn. That’s a lot of books.” So true. I need to get rid of some. Ones either given to me that I don’t care to read, or ones I’ve read that aren’t keepers. I must figure out what to do with them.

I got a large part of my room tidied up today, tomorrow I’ll work on my office. So nice to get things organized again. Makes me happy. :)

My dad arrives Monday night, so the kids are going crazy. Both of my in-laws died over the last couple of years due to lung cancer (and hubby still smokes, drives me nuts. I quit years ago.), so my parents are all my kids have in the way of grandparents. My dad lives in Pisa, Italy so we see him only every few years.

Also, I’m going to try something different writing-wise from here-on-out. I’m going to take weekends off and evenings. Just write during the day while the munchkins are in school. I’m hoping that will keep my energy high and the creative well filled. As it is, I’ve been writing all day, every day for years now and it started to wear me out until I wrote my last Brava. (Simon Quinn’s story DON’T TEMPT ME.) I had so much fun writing that book! I struggled with the beginning, but once I hit half-way it was a blast to write.

Of course, this led me to worry that I’d simply lost my mind and the book sucked. But my editor said it was good, so I’m very happy. :grin: (HUGE thanks to my critique partner who was critiquing a chapter a day once I hit my stride. Bless her.)

Now, if I can just get back in the habit of going to the gym…

Categories : Sylvia Day

MySpace: The Bought It This Week Edition

By admin
Sunday, September 23rd, 2007
HelenKay Dimon Icon

After I hand in a book, I wander into bookstores, get a latte and look around. This week’s wandering resulted in purchases. No surprise there since post-writing is heavy reading time. A few of my book choices this time around came from seeing covers on MySpace and then seeing the books on the table. Yes, I am the marketing department’s dream. I see something more than once and decide it will be a violation of the Laws of the Universe not to purchase it.

My first purchase was Midori By Moonlight by Wendy Nelson Tokunaga

The story goes like this:

Midori Saito’s dream seems about to come true. Too independent for Japanese society, Midori is a young woman who has always felt like a stranger in her native land. So when she falls in love with Kevin, an American English teacher, she readily agrees to leave home and start a new life with him in San Francisco—as his fiancée. Kevin seems to be the perfect man. That is, until he dumps her for his blond ex-fiancée, whom Midori never even knew existed. With just a smattering of fractured English, not much cash, and a fiancée visa set to expire in 60 days, Midori realizes she’s in for quite a struggle. Unable to face the humiliation of telling her parents she’s been jilted, she decides to go it alone, surprising even herself as she proves she will do almost anything to hang on to her “American Dream.”

This sounded different and interesting. Still not sure if I love the cover but since it grabbed my attention, I’m thinking it works.

The second book (I really bought five but only two were MySpace related) is Confessions of a Prep School Mommy Handler: A Memoir by Wade Rouse. Honestly, I picked this one up because the cover and title made me think “chick lit” and the author is a guy. Then I realized this was a memoir on a subject often covered in fiction – covered to the point of beign overdone. But, this one came from reality which made it special. Decided I wanted to read a real experience…and I had this discount coupon so that the hardcover price did not phase me.

The book is described like this:

When Wade Rouse—a rural, public school graduate who grew up more Hee Haw than Dynasty—was hired as the director of publicity at the prestigious Tate Academy, he quickly discovered his real job was to make a few of the very pretty, very rich, very mean mommies of the elite students happy.

Enter former Tate beauty queen and sports star Katherine Isabelle Ludington—Kitsy to her friends—who went to an Ivy, married an Ivy, and made a lot of money. Now, she is Wade’s VIP volunteer and a perfectly coiffed nightmare.

In between designing Louis Vuitton–inspired reunion invitations, dressing as Ronald Reagan for Halloween, and surviving surprise Botox parties, Wade tries to tame Kitsy and her pink Lilly Pulitzer–clad posse while reclaiming his self-esteem.

Following a year in the life of the super rich and super spoiled, Confessions of a Prep School Mommy Handler is hilarious, heartbreaking, and deliciously catty.

Thoughts?

Categories : HelenKay Dimon

Excerpt!

By admin
Saturday, September 22nd, 2007
Sylvia Day Icon

From A PASSION FOR HIM – Oct. 30

www.sylviaday.net/index.php?showtopic=382

Categories : Sylvia Day

Yikes.

By admin
Friday, September 21st, 2007
Donna Kauffman Icon

Survivor China? More like Whiner China. Dang, where did they find this bunch? And I thought Amber was bad.

So, in the opening segment, we already don’t like Courtney Stefani. Could she, like, be any more, like, disrespectful? We get pretentious Jean Robert who really needs to keep a shirt on until at least week 2. Of course, we get the adorable cuteness of Todd, but it’s shortlived as we shift to the other tribe, where Wrestler Diva’s boobs and lip rings just sort of seem to be everywhere. Chick can build a shelter though, I’ll give her that. And then there is Sherea, who….um….I’ll just say that this show has been running now for HOW MANY SEASONS? Has she not seen ONE episode of any of them? Survivor is all about the disgusting and the nasty. I’m thinking she will not be a big part of this season. Just a guess. (And please, take Courtney with you. A show of hands for a double elimination the first night?)

Pandas!

Aaaaaand, back to the grind. It’s going to be a tough season of no food, a whole bunch of rain if opening night is any indication. We get Shelter Building 101, and poor Chicken (I know!) just can’t barely stand watching them young fools build such a shoddy lean to. He’s….colorful. He might try giving something useful for people to work with from his apparent fount of knowledge on the subject, instead of ‘just givin’ them his ‘pinion” all the dang time. Is there room on the boat next to Ms. Stefani please?

So….Sherea decides it’s time for, I don’t know, cheerleading practice? Dance Dance Revolution? I couldn’t quite get any of that. I actually agree with the rather sour faced Peih Gee who knows she’s stuck on the Bubblehead Squad but can do nothing about it. She’s like ninety pounds soaking wet, so building a shelter by herself? Probably not happening. And did I mention it rains? Like, a lot?

Back on the Worker Tribe we’re shelter building. Heck, I’m surprised they don’t have an entire village erected already. I mean, have you seen James? He just pushes a tree, and it goes down y’all. Paul Bunyan’s got nothing on James. Damn but he’s a big guy. More Gentle Ben though, which is nice in a grave digger. Oh, and Surfer Dude? He can keep his shirt off all 39 days and I’m perfectly fine with that. Fine, I say. Of course, they have Courtney on their team, so it’s a good thing James can do the work of several people, because I’m not thinking she’s going to, like, jump in, like, at any time and, like, you know, like, help.

And I wasn’t sure I was going to like Church Lady, but when she took Big James under her wing and tried to help him with the social game? Yeah, she scored some points there. And don’t worry James, you’re already loved. What a sweetie.

So, stranding them with the clothes on their back, then having torrential downpours the first night, followed by blistering heat? Yeah, you get a bunch of Survivors who immediately get nice and intimate all wearing their skivvies. That’s one way to get past the stranger barrier. Of course, it doesn’t keep us from having to look at their half naked, soaking wet selves. Okay, so Aaron and James in their boxer briefs aren’t such a bad deal, but otherwise i spend too much time looking through parted fingers. (Lunch Lady? Wow, Tim Gunn would so not approve of your look. And I’m not talking about the mullet. That I could live with.) Not such a great idea, Probst. Too much, way too soon.

Way.

Immunity Challenge Time – Damn, Big J is big and agile. His team wins the challenge, sending the Bobbleheads back to figure out who is going home. ::raising hand rather enthusiastically:: Oh! Oh, oh! Can I make a suggestion? But do they listen to me? Of course not. In the end, Chicken goes home. Not that he played the game right at all in the limited time he was there, but he was so sincerely disappointed to go, and his exit speech was a really sweet one…I felt bad for him. Especially when there are others in the game who could have gone sooner. (Yes, Sherea, I’m looking at you.)

Next week? More rain. More mud. No food. Good times.

I haven’t watched the Very Last Comic yet, but I hear through the grape vine there might be a nice surprise waiting for me when I do. Yay, viewers!

And on Top Chef, Sara takes her leave on some undercooked chicken, which leaves Hung, Casey, Dale, and Brian as the final four. I’m okay with that. Go Casey!

Now for this week’s winner of the advance reading copy of The Black Sheep & The Hidden Beauty. Everyone wave your sundae spoons at Blog Babe Thuy! Woo hoo!!! Congratulations – hope you enjoy it! :)

I hope everyone has a great weekend! See you Monday for a new SHaQ Attack contest. :)

(And don’t forget to head over to Novel Thoughts to see the winner of the book giveaway there – click on the link in Tuesday’s blog.)

Categories : Donna Kauffman

Good-bye summer, I?ll miss you

By admin
Friday, September 21st, 2007
Jill Shalvis Icon

How we spent last Sunday. How everyone should spend one of the last lazy days of summer. It comes highly recommended for stress, trust me

And as a bonus, I got to watch the husband I was mad at make a jump across both wakes and come down on the front tip of his wakeboard, which in turned rudely slapped him face first into the water. Theres nothing, and I mean nothing, like watching a spectacular crash like that to make me feel better, no matter what the woes.

Please dont write me and tell me Im mean. I already know

Categories : Jill Shalvis

Friday Snippet – September 21st

By admin
Friday, September 21st, 2007
Alison Kent Icon

Here’s a snippet from Simon Baptiste’s story. No final word yet on when it will be released, and no title, so I’m teasing you for nothing. *g* And, no, that’s not my cover, but it is the picture I used for Simon!

* * * * * * * * * *

He slowed as he reached the entrance to the bridge that crossed the swampland giving Bayou Allain its name. A fire truck, an ambulance, and three cars from the sheriff’s department blocked all but one slice of road.

Simon could understand why. Hitting the bridge at too high a speed had not fared well for the car below, its front end buried in the muck, its underbelly exposed to the elements and covered in the detritus of the swamp.

The scene wasn’t fresh. The car’s wheels weren’t spinning. He didn’t see signs of a driver or passenger, though that could be explained by the ambulance. At least the parish coroner wasn’t on site.

He made it across the bridge without incident, sped up for the last half mile before the turn into his property, and headed for the house in which he’d grown up.

He doubted he’d see his cousin unless he made a concerted effort to do so. He didn’t want to leave here without setting things straight, but he wasn’t going to force a confrontation with King.

Not when the sale of the land would widen the rift between them.

Making provisions for his cousin was something he needed to discuss with Lorna, whether or not it could be done by giving King time to relocate, or setting aside for him a portion of the profits from the sale.

If there were any profits.

Simon might be looking at nothing but a break even proposition, if not a loss.

As long as this was the last trip down south he had to make, he could deal with that, he mused, his truck rolling to a stop in front of a two story frame structure that he barely recognized as his childhood home.

He took a minute to shake off old memories, then climbed out of the truck. He’d haul in his gear after he checked out the house, gauged whether or not it was livable or if he was going to need to head back to Abbeville for a room. He wasn’t up to rooming with raccoons, possums, and rats.

The porch steps were solid enough, though the railing wouldn’t have supported the weight of a bird. He shook it again. He’d have to round up a hammer and nails, pick up a couple of new two-by-fours . . .

Uh, no. He wouldn’t. He was selling the place – buildings and land – “as is.” Repairs would keep him here way too long, cost him way too much.

He was checking out the warped porch and the fit of the screen door’s frame when he heard a noise inside. The back door opened into the kitchen, and he knew critters enjoyed burrowing into cupboards, beneath old appliances, even under the floorboards of rooms with more hiding places than most.

Except how many of those critters had figured out how to pump the well handle to bring water up to the sink?

He slid the Smith & Wesson M&P .357 he wore at his waist from its holster, took hold of the door knob and slowly turned, pushing inward until he saw movement, then slamming it all the way open and swinging his hands up, gun at the ready.

“Who the hell . . .?” was all he got out before realizing he knew exactly who his trespasser was.

He’d just never seen her like this . . . standing at a sink, one hand on a pump handle, her dark hair caught on top of her head with a John Deere cap, a sheer push-up bra and a pair of rubber waders the only clothes she wore.

He engaged the safety and holstered the semiautomatic, chuckling under his breath with as much humor as disbelief. If only the guys from Page Six could see their favorite pair of tits and ass now.

“Well, if it isn’t Michelina Ferrer, heiress to the Ferrer Fragrance empire.”

Her lips trembled in response, the pallor of her face nearly the same shade as the shocked whites of her eyes.

He sobered, taking a closer look at the bruise on her right cheekbone, the scrape on the same shoulder, the gash on her forearm she’d duct-taped closed.

Then he remembered the accident he’d passed.

And he swore.

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” he asked, and she crumpled to the floor, shaking her head as a sob filled with fear shook her body.

* * * * * * * * * *

Categories : Alison Kent

RAW

By admin
Thursday, September 20th, 2007
Sylvia Day Icon

Here’s another pic from RAW, one of me and Susan:

RAW_2

My dad flies in from Italy on Monday night. I think it’s been about 3 years since the last time he visited, so we’re all excited. I need to clean the house and write my next Alluring Tales short story. I love to write shorts and novellas, for the most part. I don’t think I get to do enough of them, certainly not as many as I’d like. I’m dying to write another Christmas novella. Someday…

Speaking of novellas, if you’ve been thinking about entering the Brava Novella Contest, you should hurry up. The contest closes on Sept. 30.

Categories : Sylvia Day

End Of The Sweat

By admin
Thursday, September 20th, 2007
HelenKay Dimon Icon

Today is the day. It’s the final day of the The Seventy Days of Sweat Writing Challenge. To all who participated – congratulations on your hard work! To those who followed along and are toying with the idea of giving the Sweat Challenge a try, it’s not too late because we’re doing it again.

To wrap up this Challenge, go over and do your final check in. Get inspired by the successes – big and small – of the participants. Be amazed at the progress and work accomplished by some of your writing brethren. And, don’t get discouraged if you did not meet all of your goals. Trying does count for a great deal here and continuing to write is ultimate goal.

So, take a little break and then check back in on the Sweat Challenge on October 1st to read about the next round.

Categories : HelenKay Dimon

It?s official!

By admin
Thursday, September 20th, 2007
Donna Kauffman Icon

Tonight we return to MAC-worthy tv. :) Well, I hope. See what summer tv and winning Donatos have done to me? I’m so jaded and cynical now….)

Things have to improve, right? (And, really, after Evil Dick winning half a mil, they really have nowhere else to go but up.) So tune in tomorrow for all the peachy Survivor MAC you can stand, along with some Top Chef and Last Comic Finale MAC (though I’m finding it hard to care about that last one…it’s sitting on my DVR, not particularly calling to me.)

AND! We’ll announce which Happening Blog Babe wins the advance reading copy of The Black Sheep & The Hidden Beauty! It’s not too late to enter – see Monday’s post for details.

Thank you for all the nice comments and emails about KittyCooper. She is the cuteness!

Happy TGIF-eve!

Categories : Donna Kauffman

The Trouble With Paradise

By admin
Thursday, September 20th, 2007
Jill Shalvis Icon

It’s shipping, it’s shipping, order here . . .

Here’s an exclusive excerpt:
Christian was following her, she could hear him. Probably making sure she didnt get lost again. Damn, more evidence that he wasnt all hard-ass. She sped up, her silly yes, silly sandals squishing into the sand. If she ever got home, she was going to design some seriously sensible sandals. Theyd be beautiful, of course, but easy to run in.

Risking her neck, she burst into a run now, because suddenly she didnt trust herself to be alone with him again. ow, ow, ow . . . The damn splinter still hurt like hell

Dorie.

Oh, no. Kicking it into higher gear, she turned the corner, away from the glow of the fire, away from the others, needing a private pity party, if only for a moment.

The rocks were stacked one upon another, making cliffs that jutted straight up, hundreds of feet into the sky. By day those cliffs had been green, teeming with lush growth, but now, at night, it was all black, looming, and suddenly terrifying.

Since Christian wasnt wearing silly sandals, and probably exercised more often than when someone gave him a gift certificate to a gym, he easily caught up with her and grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him.

I thought you said you dont do guests, she gasped. Now you want round two?

While that invitation is ever so romantic, no. I had something else in mind. He pulled out a small first-aid kit.

Opening it, he lifted a

Oh, no. she laughed, then shook her head at the gleaming pair of tweezers. Youre not going to come anywhere near me with that thing.

Funny, you werent saying that a little while ago. He still had a gentle but inexorable hold on her, and using that, led her to a large rock, upon which he sat. The splinter has to go, Dorie.

She held her own butt, her gaze glued to the tweezers. Im not sitting.

No. Youre going to bend over and let me take care of your business. Unperturbed, he calmly fished through the first-aid kit for God knew what else.

My business has been taken care of.

He looked up at her words. Met her eyes. His mouth quirked as if he wanted to smile. Yes, and that was my pleasure, believe me. This . . . He gestured to her butt. This is my job.

Categories : Jill Shalvis
« Previous Page
Next Page »

Subscribe to Our Sneak Peek Newsletter

Follow Us!