In my black silk lingerie I write this, reclining on my velvet-covered chaise lounge, staring through the window into the rain while sipping sparkling wine out of an Irish crystal champagne flute. It’s a laborious occupation, and while I immensely enjoy penning tales of adventure and love and brawny men with bulging biceps and obscenely large fleshroots, once in awhile Ms. Feisty needs a well deserved holiday. And so, my trashy peeps, I bid you adieu. Soon, I shall be enjoying the salty water, the humid air and the potent cocktails of the South Pacific Sea. Kiss, kiss! I'll miss you all! (But I'll be back in two weeks.)

Meanwhile, my beloved would like to share a story with you. Simply click on the link below…

EDITED: CLICK ON THE FREAKIN' LINK! YOU WON'T BE SORRY!

How Did I End Up On The Cover Of This Romance Novel?

They ain't no Nickleback (thank God)

But boy, they make me hot.

Let's hear it for The Eagles of Death Metal!

Rebel Without a Cause

I was driving 60 in a 35 and I got pulled over by an fat, bald cop. He wanted proof of my insurance, I didn't have any, and he wrote me up. I then (ahem) forgot to go to the courthouse and prove that I do, in fact, pay State Farm an insane amount of money each year to insure my 1979 Mercedes diesel sedan. (I was a little depressed by the whole event. I mean, my breasts used to get me out of tickets. Now they only get 10 miles per hour knocked off, and I still have to prove I have insurance. For fuck's sake, my breasts used to be my insurance!)



I received this in the mail today. Yes, I will soon have a warrant out for my arrest, and I doubt that stripper cop will show up to "arrest" me like last time. Too bad. I was hoping he'd bring his flashlight...

Question: what purpose do flashlight vibrators serve?

Okay, so I’m as kinky as the next girl, but I just cannot figure out why one would need a flashlight feature on one’s vibrator. Are you expecting a power outage? Can you not find your pleasure button in the dark? Furthermore, if this is a group effort, what is your partner expecting to find down there?

Why have my thoughts strayed to flashlight vibrators this fine Sunday morning? Well, my friend (we’ll call her Scary) received a flashlight vibrator for Valentine’s day. It was a very sweet gift from her beloved husband, and apparently the flashlight was an added, unexpected bonus. When they turned the puppy on, viola! A little lightshow for the peepshow.

I thought laser light shows went out in the 80’s. But hey, I’m willing to try anything. I just might need some Pink Floyd to get me in the mood.

Yahoo IM is the devil.

And so is Emma Petersen.

If you would like some insight into what I do when I should be blogging/writing/saving mankind, just click here to see an example.

It's okay, though. I mean, we were talking about writing after all. Right?

Still. Yahoo IM is the devil, and so is Emma for posting that. However, I thank her because right this minute I vow to spend a lot less time IMming and more time writing. Oh, and be careful what you type. You never know who might decide repost it on her blog...

Be careful what you wish for.

I recently informed Mr. Manroot that I wanted-no, needed-a four-wheel drive vehicle. Our new house is at the end of a dirt road that isn’t county maintained, and it's quite possible that, during or after a bad storm, we’d be unable to make it through the muddy quagmire that takes us to town. And, because we live in the Sierras, storms are fairly common, and I don’t wanna be stuck in the house on account of some rain and snow. (I have a two year old, need I say more?)

So, as I was saying, I told my husband I wanted to trade in my car for something a little more rugged. You know, like a Jeep or a Toyota 4Runner or whatever. I just wanna be able to get to the store for milk and tequila and chips when it’s raining, ya know?

Right. I guess I should have been more clear. Or maybe I should have considered the fact that Mr. Manroot can be a little extreme at times, and he loves any opportunity to release his inner survivalist. Because instead of a Jeep or a 4Runner or whatever, I am now the proud owner of a 1974 Pinzgauer. What was that you said? You don’t know what a 1974 Pinzgauer is? Well, let me show you!


Isn’t it lovely? And such a retro shade of army green—sure to look smashing with my new pink peep-toe pumps.

When I told Mr. Manroot I wanted a Hummer, I think he thought I said I wanted to run over Hummers. That’s right. This thing will supposedly scurry right over the lesser SUVs if need be. Oh, and Mr. Manroot excitedly told me you can fit fifteen troops in the back.

“Troops?” I asked. “Don’t you mean people?”
“Whatever! This thing can climb up a vertical hill!”
"Oh, my."
"And! It goes almost 75 miles per hour!"
“Great, honey. That’s—just—wow.”

I’m really trying to be excited. I mean, I’m sure the nineteen inches of ground clearance will come in really handy at Target (those speed bumps are a bitch). Plus, if I get hungry, I can pull out my wine and cheese and eat in a civilized manner at the table:



Also, when I buy bulk amounts of paper towels from Costo, there’s plenty of room in the back:



So, that’s the new four-wheel drive. Now all I need to do is figure out how to make all those knobs and pulls make it go...



Next time you feel the urge to run over a Hummer, stop by. As soon as he gets back from picking up the Pinzgauer in Baja, I'm sure Mr. Manroot would be more than happy to give you a demo.

Oh, and bring the troops.

Take a Leap

If you've ever wondered about love and fate the one that got away, be sure to check out this new release from Antonia Pearce.

What would you do with twenty-four more hours with the lost love of your life?

Merryn Porter finds out when a freak accident kills her as she saves her best friends on their wedding day. Unaware she’s dead, she’s also forgotten the bride’s brother died ten years earlier. She does remember he broke her heart.

Luke Hanson has been waiting in limbo to atone for rejecting his beloved Merryn and Fate cuts him a deal: twenty-four hours to make up for her suffering. If he succeeds, she gets another shot at life.

A miracle really, but everything has a price…

You can buy it here.

My cover

He's like a bad, bad, young Fabio.