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Wednesday, October 31, 2007

The Cowboys are coming!

My Torrid Teasers Volume 38 is out at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. I am so psyched about this set of stories. I love cowboys, love the masulinity that seems to ooze from their pores and the way they swagger! A Saltwater Cowboy is about romance in an unlikely place. Dallas Dreaming is the tale of a woman who hopes to learn to ride a horse. She gets a few more lessons than she expects to, but all of them are definitely pleasureable! I hope you'll check TT38 out for yourself. It can be purchased from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid here.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

The Mead Steed is getting great reviews!

The Mead Steed released August 1st from Whiskey Creek Press Torrid. It's a fun, sexy romp that was a blast to write.

Rose is a woman in a loveless marriage, a woman who knows she deserves more than she's getting and is determined to make a better life for herself. She divorces her husband, moves to Maine, enrolls in college and almost instantly meets a man. Tom owns a small shop and the couple are attracted to each other like bees to honey. They date, and all goes well--or so Rose thinks. When Tom doesn't call, she does what any woman in her position would do. She gets annoyed. Then, she begins to see other men. But, for Rose, Tom may just be her happily-ever-after man. Now, how to make Tom see that?

An excerpt from my upcoming release, The Mead Steed:

Rose dropped her jeans on the white t-shirt, slid her lacy blue panties down to her ankles, then kicked them on to the top of the pile of sweaty, greasy-smelling laundry. After sticking her hand under the shower spray, she stepped into the tub. Heaving a sigh of relief as the warm water washed over her, she reached for the loofah and squirted a generous dollop of body wash onto the sponge.

“Damn, that place reeks. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat another french fry for the rest of my life—not even if I live to be a hundred,” she muttered as she began to scrub her body clean of the foul stink of hamburgers, fried food and stale coffee. After working the lunch crowd at the diner the only thing she yearned for was a long, hot shower. Which was good—since it was the only thing waiting for her when she retuned to the house she shared with her husband.

As usual, Jake wasn’t anywhere to be found. He had probably stopped off to have a beer—or two or ten—with the guys. But that…well, that wasn’t unusual. Jake had a habit of visiting the town’s watering hole after his shift was finished. He and the rest of the road crew practically had monogrammed bar stools, they were in the tavern so often.

As she washed her long, curly brown hair, she felt the strands begin to lose their coating of cheap vegetable oil. The oil clung to everything in the diner’s kitchen, and as she rinsed the first round of shampoo out she wondered, not for the first time, if there wasn’t somewhere she could work that didn’t involve such a rancid odor. It wasn’t until her hair and body had been scrubbed twice that she felt human again.

“I hate that place.” Rose’s voice echoed off the wet tile walls, a silky sound that made the empty apartment feel less lonely. She snorted. “The Diner. God, could it be any more ridiculous than that? How could anyone be so unimaginative? Naming a diner The Diner—jeez, it’s like calling a church The Church or saying The Store, The Gas Station…”

Beneath the warm droplets Rose’s hands traced a familiar pattern on her lean body. The routine never varied and she didn’t even realize what she was doing until her nipples hardened beneath her fingertips. A glance downward confirmed her feelings. Her body had reacted instantly to her touch. It demanded a kind touch, even if it was her own. As long as someone was prepared to attend to its needs, it was ready to comply.

With the tips of her thumbs Rose massaged scented soap bubbles across her taut nipples. Enjoying the tingling heaviness, she palmed her breasts, holding them as if she was weighing fruit at the market.

A smile played around the edges of her mouth. She knew she’d never be doing this at the Shop ’N Save.

I hope you enjoyed the small sampling of Rose's fun! And I hope you'll read The Mead Steed. Please drop me a line here and let me know what you think. I love hearing from readers!

Do you ever...

...just bloghop? I've got to admit I do it all the time. I should be writing, editing, researching the next book. Instead I'm bloghopping. Oh, the things I see and learn while on my daily hop through the blogosphere! Other authors' blogs are, of course, incredibly interesting to me. I want to know what's up in the worlds of my fellow scribes. But I visit random blogs, too. Sometimes I learn new recipes, gardening tips, see gorgeous photos or someone's baby take her first steps. *I wish I could remember the name of that blog, there were some adorable pix on it!* Anyhow, I love to bloghop. It's almost a compulsion with me.

What about you? Do you ever bloghop?

Monday, October 29, 2007

My animal personality?

Your Animal Personality

Your Power Animal: Deer

Animal You Were in a Past Life: Panda

You are a fun-seeker - an adventurous, risk-taker.
While you are spontaneous, you are not very rational.

Princess costume--Mission Accomplished!

Well I did it. I made the most gorgeous little princess costume for my niece. Glittery, flowing, a lavender creation fit for a perfectly wonderful princess. She's tickled and I'm...well, I'm exhausted! It was a real learning experience and when the stitches on my finger come out I'm sure I'll feel truly talented. For now, though, I'll just bask in the warmth of one gap-toothed smile. My niece thinks I'm the best aunt in the world. What more could I want?

Friday, October 26, 2007

Halloween fun

Yep, that's a completely sarcastic remark. I'm up to my neck in fabric, glitz and glitter and am trying desperately to come up with a princess costume for my niece. Argghhh! I am so not crafty. It's not even remotely funny, how not crafty I am.

Ah, well. Today a princess, tomorrow who knows? :)

Friday, October 19, 2007

Weekend reading

Just gathering my things together to head off for an extended weekend mini-break. We try to do that a few times a year, just go on a spur-of-the-moment short holiday, squeezing in some alone time away from our real lives. It's a great way to reconnect with that special someone and also to get a few hours of uninterrupted time for...reading. Yeah, I know, it's supposed to be a romantic weekend but you know my honey's going to be glued to the hotel room television at some point, watching some sort of sports. Me? I'm going to be indulging my desire to catch up on my reading.

What am I reading? Ah, I've got a bunch of books loaded on my e-reader. I love all sorts of stories, and my reading tastes are varied. Honestly, I'll read just about anything once. But for this weekend I've got a couple of books I've looked forward to for a while. Yeah, it's going to be a great weekend!

Hope you have fun, too. Maybe you'll do like I'm doing, mixing pleasure with...um, pleasure?

Monday, October 15, 2007

Irish Eyes

I love this book. It was such a blast to write. I mean, really, we all loved fairytales when we were kids, didn't we? I know I did. And I still do! So writing about what happens at the top of the beanstalk was no chore for me. ;-)

An excerpt:
His tongue slid wetly along the gentle slope of her neck as his mouth moved lower to nip her collarbone. Her skin warmed as his tender mouth touched her body with tiny kisses that were more whispers than touch.

As his lips circled her hard nipple, pulling it into his heat and stroking it with his tongue, she arched her body, pressing herself to his touch. She felt the delicious sensations, the tingling that began somewhere deep within her and would spread—she knew—to enfold her fully. She longed for the feel of his touch lower…much lower.

A moan escaped from her body. It was a long, long sound filled with remembrances of passion shared and the promise of delights yet to come.When his mouth danced along the flat planes of her abdomen, traveling toward what could only be—

“Shit!”
****
She felt the tremors fill her body as the riding mower bounced off the trunk of a spreading maple. Her jaw snapped shut, trapping her lower lip between her teeth and she tasted blood.
It took only a second to back the John Deere from its position against the tree, about the same amount of time that it had taken to collide with the maple. She climbed off the machine and strode to the front of the little tractor. There were scrapes in the green paint and a good-sized dent in the front by the right tire.
“Shit!” She swore out loud as she left the tree behind and headed for the rest of the large yard. Swearing out loud on a hot July day didn’t seem particularly unusual. After all, there wasn’t anyone to hear her, anyone to mind whether or not she swore or sang church hymns.

Jackie Wallace lived alone in the large farmhouse that had been her parents’ home. When they moved to Sarasota they left Jackie the keys to the house, the keys to their old Caddy and the key to the cupboard where they stored the economy-sized bags of dog food for their old dog, Lady. Jackie’s parents had been gone for a year and Jackie and Lady were falling into a lifestyle that, if not exactly adventurous, was at least comfortable.

She’d been especially thankful for the house—and Lady—to come home to when her boyfriend of two years tossed her out of his townhouse. He said he needed to “find himself” when in actuality what he planned to find was the recently divorced woman who had purchased the townhouse adjacent to his.

Jackie knew she had to stop thinking about Troy. It was driving her crazy, thinking about him and the things they once did together. Besides, if she hit that damn tree too many more times she was going to kill it. And what would she tell her father when she spoke with him on the phone? “Oh, by the way, I killed the tree you planted when I was born. How? Oh, I keep smashing into it when I mow the lawn. Why am I crashing into the tree? Oh, I just keep thinking about Troy and his incredible lovemaking talents, that’s all.”

Yeah, I’d better keep my mind off of Troy—his tongue, his cock, his talents—all of it. It was too dangerous to think about him when she was—

“Shit!”

Jackie looked over the dented front fender of the tractor. If she stood up in the seat and stretched her neck out far and to the left, she could just make out the edge of what remained of her mailbox. But just barely.
* * * *
“I don’t think so, Kerry,” said Jackie. She reached down to scratch Lady’s silky fur. The dog was lying on her foot but she didn’t have the heart to move her. “I think I’m just going to stay in tonight, channel surf and see if I can’t find a good old movie to watch. Something romantic. Something sappy and a perfect match for a pint of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough. Thanks anyway.”

She listened to the conversation from the tiny cell phone and scowled. Her best friend could be infuriating at times, but especially so just after a break up. Kerry was in a secure relationship with a guy who would move heaven and hell to make her happy. What did she know about being single?

“No, you’re wrong. No, I am not hiding at home. There are just no single guys that interest me, that’s all. You’ve been parading losers past me for a month. I can’t take it anymore. No, I don’t want to go to The Dugout. What does this guy look like anyway? The last ‘friend’ of George’s was practically a midget. No, don’t even go there. The guy stared at my nipples all night like a baby at a nursing mothers’ convention. Remember?”

Jackie grimaced as she heard Kerry’s justification of the last man she and George had foisted upon her. They were spoken so loudly Lady’s ears perked up.

“Um…yeah. All right. But after this one, we’re paid in full for that whole thing, all right? You can’t expect me to pay forever for something that happened when we were seven. Fine. What time will you be here? Fine.”

Jackie slapped the phone closed with a sigh. Then she gazed at the dog.

“Sorry, Lady. You’re on your own tonight, but I’ll leave you the cookie dough. Just don’t touch the mint chocolate chip—that one’s mine!”

I had to know...

You Are Warm Nights by the Fire
Peaceful and romantic. The best part of fall.
What Part of Fall Are You?

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Timing

Got an email from a reader who enjoyed my Liquid Silver Books release, Timing. Here's a bit of what Karen said in her wonderful letter:

"I could identify with the characters in this book. I was once in a relationship like Lisa and Tom's. Unfortunately I was too stupid to deal with my issues as well as Lisa and Tom did. I lost a great guy. Wish I had read this first! You capture the way a person feels perfectly. Thank you for writing Timing. I can't wait to read more from your pen!!!"

Thank you, Karen, for your kind words!

Still writing my tail off

and loving it. Someone asked what I am writing but I am sort of leery about sharing the story until it's more fully formed. Just my own kind of weird about not wanting to lose the thread in my mind. Please bear with me. I'll divulge soon! Maybe with an excerpt!!

Too good

You've gotta try 'em, that's all I can say!



Pumpkin Dreams



1/2 cup butter

1 cup sugar

1 cup pumpkin puree

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 cups flour

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 1/2 cups butterscotch chips


Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease cookie sheets.


Cream butter and sugar, then add pumpkin and vanilla extract.


Combine dry ingredients, then add to the creamed mixture. Stir in butterscotch chips. Drop dough by teaspoonsful onto prepared cookie sheets.


Bake for 8 to 10 minutes. Cool on wire racks.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Writing my butt off--literally!

I usually don't diet. I know, I know, I can hear the groans and mutterings. Everyone should diet, right? Well, I don't. Especially not when I'm in full battle gear writing mode. Like now. Why not? Because when I'm caught up in writing something, just can't-get-my-mind-off-it obsessed, I forget to eat. Really. And between chapters, I jump on the treadmill for a few minutes to think. Yeah, I know...it sounds crazy but that's just how it is. I've just started a new story and I'm already feeling a little bit leaner. Not a bad feeling, really.

Anyhow, I'm writing, exercising and forgetting to eat. Life is good.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Samhain Scorchers



I love it that my story, One-Way to Venice, is in this anthology! Surrounded by scorching stories of love and things that go bump in the night, it feels right at home. Samhain Scorchers is getting rave reviews. Here's some of what the reviewers are saying:

Four Lips at Two Lips Reviews!

"...One Way to Venice is a touching short story by Rusty Wicks. Well written and poignant, this is a story that will make you cry. I fell in love with the characters and wanted their love to be ever lasting."

Five Enchantments at Enchanting Reviews!

"...I admit I have rarely found a book I have devoured as rapidly as I did this one. The stories just flew before me, sapping my control. All I wanted, all I craved, was to read it all...

One Way to Venice by Rusty Wicks nearly tore my heart with its bitter-sweet agony. The pain and sadness of the characters all but tears your soul. Yet, Ms. Wicks provides hope and a promise of a new future..."

From ParaNormalRomance...

"...Rusty Wicks has combined a touching love story with a wonderfully hot ghost story! Italy comes alive!..."

So what do you think? Ghosts....gargoyles...vampires...bumping in the night...any of that appeal to you? Hmm?

Samhain Scorchers Anthology is available at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid.

Monday, October 08, 2007

How anal am I?

You Are a Little Anal Retentive
Okay, so you're occasionally uptight, but it's not like you fill your day with little OCD rituals.You just like to exercise a little control over your life, and that's usually a good thing.As long as you limit your anal retentive ways to your own behavior, you're not annoying anyone.Deep down, most people are exactly like you.
Are You Anal Retentive?

October releases

I'm totally thrilled that I have two releases this month with Whiskey Creek Press Torrid, Jackie's Beanstalk and the Samhain Scorchers Anthology. Twice as much fun!

Jackie's Beanstalk is a torrid twisted tale, a revamping of a classic fairytale. It's been turned into a more, ah, adult bedtime story. Jackie is a woman like so many women, dealing with her share of date horrors. Man after man, mostly frogs in a prince-less world. The one guy who touched her heart in any way, back when they were in school, isn't the guy for her and she knows that. Still, should she give him one more try, just to see if there is any spark at all between them?

When Jackie finds a beanstalk growing in her garden, she's just got to climb it. What woman wouldn't? What Jackie finds at the top of her beanstalk is so hot that every woman who reads this story will want a garden--and a giant--of her own!

Tomorrow we'll talk about scorching samhain stories!

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Jackie's Beanstalk


I love this book. It was such a blast to write. I mean, really, we all loved fairytales when we were kids, didn't we? I know I did. And I still do! So writing about what happens at the top of the beanstalk was no chore for me. ;-)
An excerpt:
His tongue slid wetly along the gentle slope of her neck as his mouth moved lower to nip her collarbone. Her skin warmed as his tender mouth touched her body with tiny kisses that were more whispers than touch.
As his lips circled her hard nipple, pulling it into his heat and stroking it with his tongue, she arched her body, pressing herself to his touch. She felt the delicious sensations, the tingling that began somewhere deep within her and would spread—she knew—to enfold her fully. She longed for the feel of his touch lower…much lower.
A moan escaped from her body. It was a long, long sound filled with remembrances of passion shared and the promise of delights yet to come.When his mouth danced along the flat planes of her abdomen, traveling toward what could only be—
“Shit!”
****
She felt the tremors fill her body as the riding mower bounced off the trunk of a spreading maple. Her jaw snapped shut, trapping her lower lip between her teeth and she tasted blood.
It took only a second to back the John Deere from its position against the tree, about the same amount of time that it had taken to collide with the maple. She climbed off the machine and strode to the front of the little tractor. There were scrapes in the green paint and a good-sized dent in the front by the right tire.
“Shit!” She swore out loud as she left the tree behind and headed for the rest of the large yard. Swearing out loud on a hot July day didn’t seem particularly unusual. After all, there wasn’t anyone to hear her, anyone to mind whether or not she swore or sang church hymns.
Jackie Wallace lived alone in the large farmhouse that had been her parents’ home. When they moved to Sarasota they left Jackie the keys to the house, the keys to their old Caddy and the key to the cupboard where they stored the economy-sized bags of dog food for their old dog, Lady. Jackie’s parents had been gone for a year and Jackie and Lady were falling into a lifestyle that, if not exactly adventurous, was at least comfortable.
She’d been especially thankful for the house—and Lady—to come home to when her boyfriend of two years tossed her out of his townhouse. He said he needed to “find himself” when in actuality what he planned to find was the recently divorced woman who had purchased the townhouse adjacent to his.
Jackie knew she had to stop thinking about Troy. It was driving her crazy, thinking about him and the things they once did together. Besides, if she hit that damn tree too many more times she was going to kill it. And what would she tell her father when she spoke with him on the phone? “Oh, by the way, I killed the tree you planted when I was born. How? Oh, I keep smashing into it when I mow the lawn. Why am I crashing into the tree? Oh, I just keep thinking about Troy and his incredible lovemaking talents, that’s all.”
Yeah, I’d better keep my mind off of Troy—his tongue, his cock, his talents—all of it. It was too dangerous to think about him when she was—
“Shit!”
Jackie looked over the dented front fender of the tractor. If she stood up in the seat and stretched her neck out far and to the left, she could just make out the edge of what remained of her mailbox. But just barely.
* * * *
“I don’t think so, Kerry,” said Jackie. She reached down to scratch Lady’s silky fur. The dog was lying on her foot but she didn’t have the heart to move her. “I think I’m just going to stay in tonight, channel surf and see if I can’t find a good old movie to watch. Something romantic. Something sappy and a perfect match for a pint of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough. Thanks anyway.”
She listened to the conversation from the tiny cell phone and scowled. Her best friend could be infuriating at times, but especially so just after a break up. Kerry was in a secure relationship with a guy who would move heaven and hell to make her happy. What did she know about being single?
“No, you’re wrong. No, I am not hiding at home. There are just no single guys that interest me, that’s all. You’ve been parading losers past me for a month. I can’t take it anymore. No, I don’t want to go to The Dugout. What does this guy look like anyway? The last ‘friend’ of George’s was practically a midget. No, don’t even go there. The guy stared at my nipples all night like a baby at a nursing mothers’ convention. Remember?”
Jackie grimaced as she heard Kerry’s justification of the last man she and George had foisted upon her. They were spoken so loudly Lady’s ears perked up.
“Um…yeah. All right. But after this one, we’re paid in full for that whole thing, all right? You can’t expect me to pay forever for something that happened when we were seven. Fine. What time will you be here? Fine.”
Jackie slapped the phone closed with a sigh. Then she gazed at the dog.
“Sorry, Lady. You’re on your own tonight, but I’ll leave you the cookie dough. Just don’t touch the mint chocolate chip—that one’s mine!”


Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Confession

I'm not very crafty. I envy people who whip up (seemingly effortlessly!) gorgeous creations from lengths of tissue paper, scissors and paper clips. Me? Every time I embark on a new craft project I end up glueing my damn fingers together. No, I'm not kidding. It's all right, laugh. It is pretty funny, in a pathetic way.

Recently my niece asked me to make her a Halloween costume. Should be easy, right? A princess. How hard could that be?

Why did I let her dazzling smile and sparkling blue eyes draw me in? She wrapped me around her fat litte Play-Doh smeared finger. She may be the weirdest little princess on the block by the time I'm done with this project. I'm going to give it my best shot but honestly, I can't see me making this costume look the way she envisions. Flowing lavendar skirt, sparkly crown and wings. Wings? What princess has wings? When I asked, she smiled and said, "Tinkerbell."

Tinkerbell? A princess? News to me, but hey, it's her dream, not mine. If the little dolly says Tinkerbell is a princess, who am I to argue?

Off to the fabric store today. First, I need coffee. Lots and lots of the stuff...

Monday, October 01, 2007

Jackie's Beanstalk released!


I love this cover! And this story was so much fun to write. A twisted fairytale that is sexy, too! Jackie has some adventures on her beanstalk and meets a giant that isn't like any found in ordinary fairytales! Available at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid.

Samhain Scorchers Anthology released!



If you like paranormal romances, this is the book for you! Sexy, eerie, an assortment of voices and with Halloween just a few weeks away, what could be better than this? Available at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid.