Monday, June 24, 2013

Beauty, Originality, and the Monday Fortune Cookie 6/24/13

Beauty is simply beauty, originality is magical.

SNARKY RESPONSE:  But originality seldom wins the crown in a Beauty Pageant.

Beauty is simply beauty, originality is magical.

(Don't mind me, as I attempt to wax philosophical.
It's one of THOSE fortunes.)

Beauty is as simple or as complex as the beholder deems it.
As simple as a blue sky on a spring day or as complex as a waterspout on the open sea. As simple as a smile offered freely or as complex as a judge's nod at the end of a performance. Beauty is said to be natural, but the popular beauties owe as much to artifice as to nature. Beauty more often falls within specified parameters, is sought through pursuit of a strict regimen, is recognized only when conforming to the stated expectations of the beholder, making Beauty beholden to others.
When Beauty is a purely personal definition, that's when it becomes magical.
Originality is all about personal definition. Originality chooses not to acknowledge the power of standards when seeking something true. It dares to be different, dares to be strange, dares to be ugly to find beauty. Beware, originality is a double-edge sword. One stroke can earn you accolades, another stroke could cut you off at the knees. Dancing along that razor's edge, you have to balance the need to be unique with the drive to be accepted by fostering  independence from the judgement of others. Sometimes, the call of conformity will make you shy away from that precipice, playing up your fear of falling, of failing. Originality pushes right up to the edge, peers over into the unknown and then chooses to use that moment to create something new. Step off. Step back. Step out.
The magic of Originality is the Beauty it creates within the creator.
So here's where I'm gonna leave it. Anybody want to add something of their own to the mix? Please feel free.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yay! It's Desiree!

I'm delighted to welcome Desiree Holt to Golinowski's Gambol. To quote from her website:

Romance Junkies said of her work: "Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.

She's got some great news and a contest. So, without further ado, heeeere's Desiree!

I’m baaccck!

June 23 CBS is rerunning my segment on CBS Sunday Morning. Watch Bill Geist roll his eyeballs when I read to him from Rodeo Heat. And speaking of Rodeo Heat, I’m running a contest to go along with this. Read the book, post a review, send me the link at You’ll be entered in a drawing for a $50 GC, Amazon or B&N. Each review counts as one entry.

Sounds like fun, right! Be sure to check your local listings and then tune in this coming Sunday to watch the fun!

For the curious, here is the book blurb for Rodeo Heat.

Maybe it's the animalistic heat of the rodeo-or the pin with special powers that the old woman all but forces her to buy... Whatever it is, within seconds of meeting rodeo rider Ben Lovell, Grace Delany's safe world crumbles in a voluptuous explosion of lust. Every night is something new. From the handcuffs to the intriguing sex toys, Grace gives in to it all, relishing her body's responses to this younger man. As Ben leads her from one earth-shattering climax to another, as her body softens and opens to him, all she can do is hang on for dear life and follow his lead. But when the rodeo is over, it may prove impossible to walk away from the man who's taken her on an outrageous journey of self-discovery...a man with no sexual limits or boundaries.

Intrigued? They say accessories make the outfit. Well, sounds like that pin and that Man are going to make Grace's life a lot more interesting.

Desiree also brought along a tasty little excerpt.

A warm hand closed over her elbow sending tingles of sensation rippling along her flesh. “Why don’t I buy you a cup of coffee while Melanie and Ross do their thing?”
“Oh, that sounds terrific, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” Melanie’s enthusiasm was hard to miss. It wasn’t just a chance for Grace to meet someone. Melanie wanted to play games with Ross and set herself up for later. She dug into her purse and extracted a piece of pasteboard from her wallet, holding it out to Grace. “Here’s your ticket. We’ll catch up in the arena.”
Ben palmed the ticket before she could grab it. “Great idea.
“But—” Grace had a feeling things were spinning out of her control.
“And Ben?” Melanie gave him a hard look. “You be real nice to my friend. You hear me? I know you’ve got manners hidden in there somewhere.”
Grace chewed her bottom lip trying to think of a way out of this that wouldn’t be too awkward, even while her secret inner self was yelling, Go with him, stupid.
“That’s okay.” She would have backed away if the aisle between the tables wasn’t so jammed. “Just give me the ticket. I can keep myself busy.”
But Ben Lowell was already steering her away and suddenly she found herself moving along with him as if were the most natural thing in the world. They found a picnic table in a far corner of the room that was surprisingly nearly empty and he settled her on the bench.
“I know I said coffee,” he told her, “but the stuff they serve here isn’t much good except as a varnish remover. How about a cold drink? Or a beer?”
Grace wet her lips nervously. “A cold drink would be fine. Anything. I’m not choosy.”
She watched him walk up to one of the food counters with a loose, swivel-hipped walk she’d seen on cowboys on television and in the movies. Unconsciously she rubbed the pin which seemed to heat her skin right through her shirt, wondering if the woman had been right and it was directing the course of her life. Melanie had hit the nail on the head about one thing. That course definitely needed changing.
“Here you go.” Ben set two tall cups of soda on the table, then sat down across from her.
“Thank you.” She forced herself to look up at him. “We haven’t actually been introduced.” She held out her hand. “I’m Grace Delaney.”
He took her small hand in his larger one and the touch of his flesh against hers sent the lust spiking higher. Good god. It had to be the damn pin. Maybe she should take it off before she did something embarrassing. Like throw herself at this man.
No, not me. Pin or not, that takes more courage than I have at the moment.
“Hello, Grace Delaney. I’m Ben Lowell.”
“I got that much.” He was still holding her hand and strangely, she had no desire to pull it away.
“I guess I just sort of took things for granted back there,” he told her somewhat apologetically, “but it looked like you weren’t too anxious to hang around Melanie and Ross.”
“She’s an old friend,” she told him, wondering how well Ben knew her.
He looked at her over the rim of his cup. “I hope you don’t mind my saying this and no offense intended but you and Melanie don‘t exactly seem like you’d have a lot in common.”
“You’re right but we’ve known each other most of our lives.” She saw the tightening of his lips. “Believe me, I know exactly who and what she is but it doesn’t matter. She’s always been there when I needed her. That’s what counts.”
He glanced across the room at the woman in question. “I guess sometimes strange friendships are the best ones.”
Now that she was actually looking at her dream man in the flesh, Grace felt a bad case of nerves clutch at her along with the most consuming flash of lust she could ever remember having. She took a sip of her drink to steady herself.
“So. Are you competing in the rodeo?”
His mouth thinned for a moment, then he nodded briefly. “You’d think I’d have enough sense at my age to keep from getting knocked around anymore.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be polite to ask how old you are.” Shivers rocketed through her as his thumb caressed her knuckles.
“Thirty-two going on fifty.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Pretty young,” she teased, then wondered why she’d said such a stupid thing.
“Oh?” One eyebrow lifted. “I sure don’t feel that young. Would it be too rude if I asked how old you are?”
She tried to pull her hand back but he held onto it firmly.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Tit for tat.”
Squirming on the bench she said, “F-Forty-four.”
“Just the right age,” he said in a soft voice.

Oh my! Someone want to hand me a fan over here?

You can get your own copy of Rodeo Heat from:

Feel free to drop in on Desiree's website at

Thanks for dropping by, Desiree!

Monday, June 17, 2013

Sizzling Summer Reads Event! Let's Play!

Have you lined up your Sizzling Summer Reads!
Well, I'm here to help!

I'm participating in a spectacular promotion over at The Romance Reviews blog. About 400 authors are participating and there are loads of wonderful prizes. I'll be offering a copy of Collector's Item to one lucky soul who plays my game on June 17th. 


So, go on, pop over to The Romance Reviews and register to play. You can't win if you don't play and, honestly, what have you got to lose? Nothing. And even if you don't win a prize, you're still a winner because you'll be piling up a list of TBR books for your summer enjoyment.

Available from The Wild Rose Press

Alpha were-jaguar, Katarina "KT" Marant is trained to protect the pride so when her aunt disappears, KT naturally takes up the hunt. Her suspicion settles on the Collectors, humans who view shapeshifters as the ultimate big game.

Peyton Allers can't believe he's got to blow his cover to rescue a shapeshifter "princess." Even harder to believe is that she wants to stage her own kidnapping in order to catch the leader of the Collectors and find her aunt.

Everything goes sideways when KT is kidnapped for real and by someone she never suspected. Will Peyton find her before time runs out? Or will she become a true Collector's Item?

Monday, June 3, 2013

Regrets, Tarot, and Monday Fortune Cookie 6/3/13


SNARKY RESPONSE:  Oh, that's smart! Then when Father Time comes tromping through there in his sandals and stubs his toe on my regrets, he'll probably give me something to be truly sorry for.

Bury your regrets in the sands of time.

Okay, Fortune Cookie Guru, I get it. Let 'em go. Release them and set myself free. Easier said than done. What is it about human nature that we will hang on longer to negative feelings than we do positive ones? Why do we obsess and dissect past mistakes, but toss aside happy experiences and successes with a careless hand? 

Five of Cups
Robin Wood Tarot
For some reason, this fortune cookie drew me back to the counsel of the 5 of Cups from my favorite Tarot card deck, The Robin Wood Tarot Deck. So here's a little Tarot lesson:

I always refer to the 5 of Cups as the "crying over spilt milk" card. I've found this card to represent situations where someone is spending too much dwelling on past loss and not accepting what remains. Yes, three cups have been spilt, their contents irretrievably lost, but two cups remain, just to the side of the figure. When I see this card, I tell myself or my client that all is not lost. There is something left, something that can be salvaged, something that can help to ease and heal the pain. It is the questioner's failure to accept the loss and move forward that is keeping the pain alive and crippling their recovery. And no, it's not an easy thing to do, but it's a necessary part of the process.

Now, I'm not saying I'm not guilty of being stuck in a loop of "poor me's" and "why me's," but it's important that it not become an endless loop.

Anyone else out there read tarot? What's your favorite deck? How do you interpret the Five of Cups?