Belated Happy Valentine's Day! I hope it was a day filled with love and romance. Or at the very least, a good romance novel.
My guest blogger today is Sandra Dailey. Welcome, Sandy!
Did everyone wake up this morning to the sweet, rich aroma of roses and chocolate?
You may have had a date night or just a romantic dinner at home. Be honest, is that little black dress still lying on the floor? However you celebrated Valentine’s Day, I hope it met your expectations.
Now it’s time to get up, stretch and return to your daily routine. That’s right, it’s the morning after. Bizarre things will happen to off-set the magic.
I offer you an excerpt of a morning after from my newly released story, TWICE THE TROUBLE:
Looking in the bathroom mirror, she saw that her eyes were still a little swollen. She pressed a cold, wet cloth to them. She’d just started brushing her teeth when sounds came from downstairs loud enough to be a herd of buffalo in her kitchen. They were accompanied by a chorus of howls and laughter. What were those kids doing?
With toothbrush in hand, she raced down the stairs and into the kitchen. Sliding to a stop in the doorway, Lacey found Jerrod lying on his back in the middle of the floor. Alex was over the top of him with Jenna on his back. It was an Alex sandwich. They were all laughing hysterically.
Lacey nearly choked on her toothpaste when she saw Jerrod’s face covered in peanut butter. All three offenders froze in place and turned looks of wide-eyed innocence her way. They slowly got to their feet and faced her.
“We really screwed up this time, kids,” Alex mumbled. “She’s so mad, she frothing at the mouth.”
Both kids turned red and covered their mouths. Their eyes watered from the effort it took not to laugh.
Lacey rinsed her mouth, and then picked up the overturned peanut butter jar. “Would someone please tell me, what’s going on?”
Alex cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. He gave her a serious expression. “I’m sorry. I had no choice. Your son called me a sissy. He had to be punished.”
Jerrod scraped a finger down his cheek and into his mouth, looking unrepentant. “I stand by what I said, Mom. The man wears hair gel.”
Perhaps the blurb will explain:
Lacey Carlyle has worked for years to create the perfect blend of home, business and family. Now she risks losing everything when the land she farms is bought by the man who abandoned her thirteen years ago.
Alex has never understood why Lacey walked away from him. Now, he holds the deed to her farm and intends to make her pay. The only problem – two kids weren’t part of the plan.
Jenna and Jerrod may not see eye-to-eye but they are both determined to find happiness for their mom and keep their home safe.
Can Lacey and Alex put their pasts behind them and embrace a future together?
Still confused? That’s okay, I know it’s early. Perhaps you should read TWICE THE TROUBLE. It’s currently available on Amazon. http://amzn.to/Wrxm6B
If you’d like to leave a comment I’ll be hanging around today. I’d love to hear about your morning after or answer your questions about TWICE THE TROUBLE.
About me:
I’m an avid reader and lifelong story teller. I caught the writing bug after winning a short story contest. The Chief’s Proposal was my first published work and now I’ve added Twice the Trouble, but I have many more stories to tell.
The story is everywhere, as well it should be. People need to hear about such tragedies. They need to know the world isn’t always a beautiful place. They need to be aware. And they need an opportunity to pray for their fellow man.
But are we getting bombarded with tragic news too often? Is it warping our minds, warping our children? Is a constant diet of death and destruction eroding our faith and creating sadistic killers?
Are they Mayan’s right? Are we headed for the inevitable destruction of mankind? Is the Mayan calendar accurate?
Inarguably, there seems to be an increase in violence throughout the world. Murder and mayhem are everywhere. So much death and tragedy.
Is it any wonder some believe the world is coming to an end on December 12, 2012?
Or is it just the numbers that make it seem as if the world is a more violent place?
In 1350, the world population was only 370 million. By the early 1900’s it had exploded to 2 billion people. Today, there are over 7 billion people living on our planet from 196 different countries.
With more people, comes a greater need for news. Countries are divided and subdivided into smaller cities, towns, and provinces. Each of those smaller divisions has news outlets in the form of television, newspapers, radio and the internet. And each of those outlets is competing for its share of the public audience.
So, is there more violence in the world? Inarguably. But is that violence disproportionately greater than in the past when compared to the current population?
News-grabbing headlines are nothing new. More people will pick up a paper to read about a tragic event than about a man saving a child from drowning. It’s like a train wreck. We don’t want to know, but we can’t look away. It’s been that way since cavemen painted the news.
Crimes against humanity have been occurring since those caveman days. Per capita, there may not be more crimes, but there are faster and better outlets for spreading tragic news.
In 1807, a London headline read: Murder and Indecent Mutilation of Young Harlot.
Ann Webb had moved to London from the country and found “the streets of Convent Garden are paved with bawds waiting to entice woud-be servants into a life of shame.”
It enticed Ann. She changed her name to Elizabeth Winterflood and accepted “protection” from a carpenter named Thomas Greenway. a cruel, abusive man. When Miss Winterflood attempted to leave him, he tracked her down to her favorite street corner where the two got into a heated argument. Around 2:00 a.m. Miss Winterflood was found raped and beaten on the sidewalk. Her breasts had been cut off and tossed under a cart.
Mr. Greenway was charged but later acquitted of the crime because the jury was more appalled by Miss Winterflood’s occupation than by the untimely death she’d met.
On December 7, 1811 around midnight, Timothy Marr sent his maid to buy oysters. When she returned home, she found the door bolted. No one answered her knock. When a watchman helped her break in, they found Mr. Marr beatened to death by a seaman’s maul left on the counter. His throat had also been cut. His wife, apprentice, and infant child were killed in a similar manner as they slept. A week later, a landlord and his wife were also viciously attacked and killed.
In 1812, a British Prime Minister was assassinated in the lobby of the House of Commons. And an 1820’s headline read: Conspirators Kill Constable after Bombing Plot.
A headline story from an 1828 Edinburgh paper read: “The hanging of William Burke in Edinburgh’s Grassmarket two days ago made Christmas merry for the citizenry. When his body was taken to Surgeons’ Square for dissection, there was almost a riot as it seemed the multitudes who wished to see him served like his victims would be unable to gain access.”
For more than a year, William Burke and William Hare had killed 16 people and sold the bodies to the local surgeon’s porter. Hare ran a boarding house and when one of his tenants died of natural causes, he sold her body to the local surgeon for dissection practice. He made so much money that he and Mr. Burke devised a plan where they enticed the poor into Hare's Inn for food and libations. When the victim was too drunk to stand, Burke suffocated the unsuspecting victim with a pillow. Hare then sold the body to the surgeon’s porter who in turn, delivered the body to the surgeon who believed the victims died after an evening of imbibing too freely of intoxicating spirits.
Despite such a gruesome crime, I doubt anyone in this day and age would recommend hanging and subsequently dissecting the body as appropriate punishment. Then again, we're more civilized now. That's one less strike against humanity.
In 1879, a London maid murdered her mistress and put the body in boiling water. After stuffing the boiled corpse into a trunk, she tossed it in the river. She sold the fat as drippings.
The crazed housekeeper was caught after she moved into her mistress’s home and attempted to take over her life.
The past is filled with gruesome tales and horrific crimes. Besides Jack the Ripper and Lizzy Borden, there were the notorious Gangs of New York and Wild West Crimes committed by Billy the Kid and The James and Younger Gangs. Not to mention the atrocities committed in Kansas in the years leading up to the Civil War.
War is hell and there have been wars since there has been man. But now people are committing crimes against strangers and their own children without remorse. Is this the end?
Matthew 24:6- “And ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet.”
The end is not yet. Maybe there’s still hope for humanity. I like to think so. I'd like to think there's still beauty and goodness in the world. I firmly believe there is. I take joy in a baby's cry and a breath-taking sunset. I wish the media felt the way I do.
I’d love to see more positive, heartwarming stories in the news. I think humanity needs affirmation that all is not lost—that there is still goodness in the world.
If violence begets violence, then why can’t goodness beget goodness? Why must the media concentrate on news of the worst tragedies man can inflict?
Wouldn't it be nice if Good news was on the front page and every news cast ended with something uplifting or positive?
Would that make a difference? Would it give us hope?
My thoughts and prayers go out to the victims, families, police, and hospital workers dealing with the tragedy that occurred in Colorado last night. May they find peace, comfort, and the faith to hold on.
Today I welcome sister rose, author Lynne Marshall who's going to tell us women what men really want. I've been married 30+ years, and I still can't figure it out. lol! And since today is also the day after my birthday, I'm going to draw a name from those who leave a comment today and give that person a free PDF copy of my historical romance, Slightly Tarnished.
So, Lynne, what do men want?
WHAT MEN WANT by Lynne Marshall
I recently noticed an article on Yahoo about what men notice first about women. Surprisingly, it isn’t a super figure. Nope. Seventy-four percent of the men questioned said it’s the hair that makes them first notice a woman. The article said gorgeous hair trumps a curvy figure every time. Surprise, surprise. Here’s the link:
Is it any wonder authors write the characters that most attract men? The point of the story in romance is to find two people, often complete opposites, and make them fall in love, so first they have to notice each other. As a woman who has had short hair for many, many years, it is difficult to accept that men only want long, lustrous hair. Especially since my husband likes my short hair! However, looking back, I did have long hair when we met. Maybe he’s just humoring me now? Something to think about anyway.
I think the key to this immediate attraction is being well groomed. If you read the article, you’ll notice that grooming is a big part of the equation when it comes to attraction. Continuing on with the theme of attraction, one thing, both men and women have in common in many surveys is that a physically fit person is very appealing. As romance writers and readers, I think we all know that. All anyone has to do is look at the latest batch of romance novels and it is very apparent the fitter the model, the sexier the book cover.
Good thing Paul Valverde, the hero in An Indiscretion, my latest book from The Wild Rose Press, is a slim hipped Spanish-American who knows how to dance the rumba and Paso Doblé. Who also takes total control of his partner in many inventive ways, and is a top notch doctor at St. Stephen’s Hospital in Los Angeles, despite his setbacks earlier in life.
In An Indiscretion, my current offering in the Champagne line, one of the first things the hero remembers about the heroine (they’d known each other as young teenagers) is her gorgeous red hair. See, there was a method to my ponderings. The book cover doesn’t feature this trait because Carrington Hanover, who is an RN, is wearing surgical garb – a mask and OR cap – but her beautiful blue eyes tell a story all of their own. By the way, I was given a special dispensation from WRP editor - Kinan Werdski - allowing me to write a red-headed, blue-eyed heroine JUST THIS ONCE! According to her, in submitted manuscripts, 99% of the women on the planet have “auburn tresses and emerald (or blue) eyes.” See Rachel Brimble’s blog - March 15, 2012. http://rachelbrimble.blogspot.com/2012/03/interview-with-wild-rose-press-editor.html
I’ve also seen reader boards at Amazon chastising romance authors for writing too many red-headed heroines. According to some of them, it is an ongoing joke amongst readers.
Yes, maybe redheads have been overdone in romance novels, but I think it all goes back to what the guys find most attractive about women in that article – beautiful hair! How often have we noticed a woman with natural red hair and thought, wow, that’s the most gorgeous color I’ve ever seen? And what do we suppose is the most popular hair dye color requested by women in salons? Just look around.
Here’s a picture of the lady with great hair that I envisioned when I wrote Carrington Hanover.
An Indiscretion by Lynne Marshall:
A doctor…a nurse…an indiscretion. RN Carrington Hanover leaves her money-hungry fiancé at the altar insisting the next man in her life must love her, not her rich father’s money.
All work and no play has made Dr. Paul Valverde an unfulfilled man, and the resurrected redheaded crush from his youth is driving him to distraction, but can their complicated past become untangled by their newfound attraction–or will their love be doomed by mistrust and long-held resentment?
What is your favorite color of hair on guys or ladies?
I’ll give one of my backlist books away to one commenter.
Thanks so much for having me, Lilly!
Great post, Lynne. So, there's a chance today to win one of TWO prizes if you leave a comment.
Now, as to a man's hair color, I love a bit of contrast. I love to see a handsome man with blond hair and brown eyes or dark hair and brown eyes. And although my husband once had very dark hair and blue eyes, his hair is now silver leaning toward white with a few dark strands remaining. Oh, and of my two daughters, the oldest has the most beautiful long red hair and blue eyes. So, I don't find the abundance of red haired heroines odd at all. Now, if every woman in the same book had red hair...
Thank you so much for joining me today, Lynne.
Lynne Marshall is a multi-published author of contemporary romance for Harlequin Special Edition and The Wild Rose Press, and Medical Romance for Mills & Boon. Her latest book for Special Edition is, Courting His Favorite Nurse, March 2012. Lynne hopes you’ll give her redheaded heroine of An Indiscretiona chance at her happily ever after. You can find out more about Lynne at her website: www.lynnemarshall.com
Earlier this month, I made an unexpected trip to Germany to visit my daughter. She was having some minor surgery and needed her mom. So, off to Europe I went.
I flew out of RDU in Raleigh, NC the last Friday in January for a week-long vist. It was 70 degrees that day, which is unusual, even for North Carolina. But we've been having a mild winter. It's not uncommon to have wild temperature swings in February and March. During those months, it can be sunny and 70 one week and below freezing and snowing the next. But I've never gone from 70 to 17 degrees in less than twenty-four hours before. I did that day.
My connecting flight was in Philadelphia where I expected it to be much colder than in NC. Apparently, Philly is having a mild winter this year too. I arrived at the airport in the City of Brotherly Love late in the afternoon and the temp was still hovering around 58 degrees. Not bad. I had on a sweater so I didn't even put on my coat when I stepped off the plane and rushed through the airport to make my connecting flight to Munich. But when I arrived in Germany nine hours later, I was in for a real surprise. It was snowing.
As we circled the runway, the pilot announced the current time and weather. The time was 8:00 a.m. and the temperature outside was 17 degrees Fahrenheit with snow flurries.
Flying over Munich
Munich Airport
Flurries? I could see the snow covered fields from the sky.
I about froze the moment I stepped off the plane.
Luckily, my daughter had warned me about the bitter cold so I was prepared. And my son-in-law's car has heated seats.
It's 193 kilometers or approximately 120 miles from Munich to Weiden, where my daughter was recovering from surgery at the hospital there. But thanks to the autobahn and no speed limits in sections, my son-in-law made the trip in just under two hours, despite the snow. Than again, the snow plows and brine trucks had started clearing the snow the moment it started falling. Despite the somewhat scary speed at which we traveled, I was able to enjoy the beauty of the Bavarian countryside.
(Left)Hops field covered in snow.Windmill in background.(Right) German Village outside Munich.
I've been to Germany twice before but this trip was different. It wasn't a vacation, and I hadn't planned for it. I'd gone to be with my daughter after her surgery, which turned out to be less invasive than originally expected and with a much better outcome. While I was there, I got to visit a German hospital which isn't something I'd normally do on a visit to another country. But it was educational.
In the US, I work in a hospital, but it's nothing like the one I visited in Weiden. For starters, US hospitals don't sell beer in the hospital cafeteria. The hospital in Weiden did!
The rooms look similar, but the beds looked more like glorified stretchers. Some of the equipment looked the same as in the States but in the US, most hospitals use IV bags. My daughter's IV was in a plastic bottle the hospital recycles.
Thank God, my daughter's hospital visit was brief and she recovered quickly--more quickly than anticipated. So, what started out as a visit to take care of her turned into something fun. We got to spend quality time together without her having to stay in bed.
near my daughter's neighborhood.
View of Rauher Kulm from Eschenbach
By the middle of the week, we were able to get out and take a walk through her neighborhood and town.
Downtown Eschenbach
We ate at a nice Chinese restaurant where I enjoyed a nice, dark Dunkelweizen. We visited some of my daughter's friends, went to a German deli, and on the last day of my visit, we went shopping in Weiden.
Although this wasn't my first trip to Germany, it was the first time I'd every traveled alone. I was a bit intimidated at first, but on my international flight to Munich, I slept with a handsome 31 year old man. Just kidding!
My "seat mate" on the plane was a cutie from Texas and we did sleep a bit on the plane. He was traveling to Munich on business. He'd previously spent two years in Germany while working for the same management firm. The woman who'd taken his place when his work Visa expired was taking some time off for maternity leave and my handsome seat mate was going back to Germany to fill in for her.
Although we never exchanged names, he was a nice young man. He was also quite handsome. Standing well over six feet tall, he reminded me of Matthew Perry from the Friends TV series. We had a nice chat and I thought of several ideas for a possible romance novel that could start on a plane. Imagine falling in love on an international flight and getting separated in the airport only to realize you'd never exchanged names or information to help you find that person again.
I was intrigued by the concept of writing such a story. But I write historical and paranormal romance. Perhaps I could change the plane to a coach. Or, my handsome Matthew Perry look-a-like could be a werewolf returning to Germany in search of a cure. Since the first recorded Werewolf sighting was around the countryside of German town Colonge and Bedbur in 1591, I could incorporate some of the sites I've seen in Germany. Or, maybe I'll have to try my hand at writing romantic suspense.
Today is release day for my American historical, Wholesale Husband.
Blurb:
She needs his name. He needs her money. But can a rich New York socialite and a poor Irish immigrant find true love in the gilded age?
Betrayed by her fiancé and heart sick over her father’s death, Clarissa Burdick is further devastated when she learns she can’t inherit her father’s company—the company she loves—until she’s twenty-five or married. And Clarissa is neither. So she sets out to find a husband strong enough to protect her from her uncle’s thugs, too uneducated to run the company himself, and poor enough to marry a woman in name only. But Irish immigrant Devin Flannery is smarter than he seems and more educated than Clarissa expects. Her Wholesale Husband soon proves a greater risk to her heart than her company.
Excerpt:
“This is a serious proposal,” she insisted, gnawing her lip.
“Who are you codding?” He leaned forward, stretching his leg, ready to descend from the suffocating confinement of the hansom cab.
Again, she stayed him with a touch and again, his body reacted to the contact in a most unwanted way. He narrowed his eyes and pried her hand from his wrist.
“Surely, you’ve heard of marriages of convenience,” she insisted rather desperately as she rubbed her wrist. “Well, this is an honest proposal. If you come with me to Mr. Tate’s office, I can give you a copy of the contract outlining a proposed marriage agreement between us. If you don’t trust my word or that of my attorney’s, then you can find someone to read the documents to you before you sign them.”
She rubbed her wrist again. He considered apologizing for his rough handling but after her last comment, he thought better of it. Even after he’d confessed to some schooling, she still thought him too stupid to read.
Well, if she wanted a dumb Irishman, he’d give her one.
“Aye, lassie. I’ll not be taking yer word for it and that’s fer sure.”
“Then you’ll come with us?”
There must be something seriously wrong with me. But he’d play along, just to see how far Miss Burdick would take this dangerous game she played.
“Aye,” he all but snarled. “I’ll go with you to the lawyer’s office, but I ain’t signing nothing until someone I trust has a look at those papers.”
Miss Burdick’s luminous smile shone like the sun bursting through the clouds on a stormy day. Devin’s heart dropped to his stomach. Fiona would smile like that if he had the money to send her to that fancy boarding school.
Damn if he wasn’t actually considering her proposal.
I'm blog hopping today. And telling secrets. Today I'm over at Jennifer Jake's blog: http://authorjenniferjakes.blogspot.com/?zx=e0226df2592ed0e6 . So, stop by and learn some of my secrets and see who I'd pic to play the part of Chad if my latest historical, Slightly Tarnished, ever became a movie.
Jennifer has a fun blog with lots of eye candy on Mondays.
Today, I'm going to be lazy. Kind of like in that Bruno Mars song I like so much. Or, at least that's what I'd like to be doing today. I'd like to lay in my bed and read. Or sit at my desk in my PJ's and write. But, despite having the day off, I have a dozen or more things I need to accomplish.
My daughter and her husband have been gone for a week now. They headed back to Germany last Friday. It feels as if they've been gone a month. They were with his family the first week, split the difference the second week, and spent most of that third week with us. So, my husband and I took a week off to be with them. We didn't really go anywhere. We had more of a stacation than a vacation, but we stuffed that week full of fun.
There was bowling, fishing, pool parties, shopping, and lots of dining out. People were in and out all week, mostly my daughter's girl friends from "the old days" lol, and a cousin that's always been like a daughter to me. It was a fun week. And now, I feel as if I'm a month behind on everything. Writing, cleaning, laundry.
My daughter did her own laundry while she was here. She even helped keep the towels washed. But, there were just so many towels. Especially beach towels from the pool parties. They take up a lot of room in the wash. And I'm still behind. But at least I got all the sheets washed and fresh ones put on the bed. Even mine.
Despite the fact that the house needs cleaning, today was supposed to be my Lazy Day. I was going to do a little laundry, a little reading and a lot of writing. But, now the air conditioner on my car is on the fritz. My youngest graduates from UNC's Radiation Therapy program this weekend and we still don't have new dresses to wear and I have a dozen errands to run.
So, I guess I'll jut have to pop in a CD, find that Bruno Mars song, and turn the volume way up in the car while I'm driving around, running those errands, and wishing I could have my Lazy Day to do nothing but read and write.
Genre: Historical Romance, E-book, England, Victorian Period Sensuality: Hot Setting: Victorian England
RT Rating
This tale starts slowly but once the story focuses on Nicole and Chad’s marriage and the barriers that stand between their love, it moves full speed ahead. Lilly Gayle spins a tale one part suspense and one part family dysfunction. Shocking revelations float throughout the novel, but it is Chad’s hesitation to completely open up to Nicole that keeps the reader turning pages. Slightly Tarnished is buoyed up by a winning heroine and diverse crew of supporting characters.
The thoroughly American Nicole Keller can hardly believe she has married a domineering and judgmental Englishman. But after losing her father and her home, Nicole has been trying to support herself and her mother. She has little choice but to accept Chadwick Masters, Earl of Gilchrest, as her husband. If nothing else, his name will keep Nicole and her mother safe from her malicious uncle. For his part, Chadwick has seen the damage Nicole’s uncle can do firsthand. Marrying Nicole will keep her from harm, plus it will satisfy his mother’s demands. But this marriage of convenience will never work if Nicole keeps bring up love. Besides, how could Chadwick ever love someone he cannot entrust with his long-buried secrets? (WILD ROSE PRESS, June, dl. $6.75)
After American Nikki Keller’s father is lost at sea, along with his ship and cargo that would have paid the mounting bills, she and her mother are left homeless. Mrs. Keller accepts an offer from her brother to make their home with him in England. Loath to leave America, Nikki accepts her mother’s decision. So the two head to England to the estate of Henry Tidwell, Earl of Wellesley.
The Countess of Gilchrest is anxious for her son, Chadwick Masters, Earl of Gilchrest to remarry and produce the needed heir. Although soured on marriage after his tumultuous relationship with his deceased wife, he understands his duty and fully intends to take a wife, just not the one his mother is so insistent upon.
Terrified at her uncle’s plans for her future, Nikki runs with her mother from Wellesley’s home into the dead of night. Gilchrest comes across them and after hearing their story, brings them to his estate. Although it starts out as a temporary arrangement, it soon becomes permanent, but Gilchrest is hiding a secret, and Nikki wants to know what it is.
Mystery, intrigue, love and romance all come together to form a satisfying story. Nikki, her mother, and Gilchrest fight to protect themselves and others they love from the machinations of those who would destroy their very world.
A good story with strong characters and a satisfying plot, you’ll enjoy this one.
Today, I'm welcoming guest blogger, Jennifer Jakes who's going to entertain us with a post on underwear!
Have at it, Jennifer!
FROM LOINCLOTH TO THONG . . . Not so different are they?
So are we moving forward or going back? Let's take a quick look at the history of what men wear under there!
The first men's underwear was probably the Loincloth, a simple strip of material or leather. A loincloth was also used to describe material pulled between the legs and fastened like a diaper. Not a good look for anyone :( Greek and Roman men reportedly wore loinclothes.
During the Middle Ages, loinclothes were replaced by loose trouser-like pants called Braies. Braies were a step-in design and laced at the waist and mid-calf. Wealthy men also wore chausses.- tights worn over the legs and feet.
By Renaissance, braies became shorter to accommodate longer styles of chausses -- and chausses gave way to hose. The hose were two separate legs leaving their genitals uncovered. (Men could wear underdrawers) Hence, the Codpiece came into use. Over time, codpieces became padded to emphasize rather than to conceal, reaching their peak of size and decoration in the 1540s before falling out of use by the 1590s. (Since neither braies nor chausses were meant to be worn beneath they weren't technically underwear.)
Braies were replaced by cotton, silk or linen drawers which were worn for years and years and years. And years. I couldn't find much information on how much -- if any -- the basic design changed. However, in the mid 1800's mass production of underwear began and people started to buy their drawers instead of making them at home. The Unionsuit also became popular in the mid 1800's -- 1868 actually -- and had the drop seat in the back.
In 1874, the Jock Strap came along to provide support for the bicycle jockeys riding upon cobblestone streets.
The first underwear print ad ran in the Saturday Evening Post in 1911, an oil painting, not a picture. That would have been indecent! In WWI soldiers were issued button front shorts though they were often still worn with a union suit. (Which by the way became 2 pieces in 1910 - what we call long-johns).
By 1935 Coopers Inc. sold the world's first men's briefs, the design dubbed Jockey since it provided the support once only offered by a jock strap. 30,000 pairs of new Jockeys sold within the first 3 months of introduction. In the 1950's manufacturers began to make men's underwear from colored and/or printed material. In the 1970's and 1980's advertisers began appealing to the sexual side of selling, foregoing the long time ad practice of comfort and durability. Speaking of comfort - or lack thereof - the thong became popular in the 1990's.
So, what do you prefer on your man? Boxer, brief, thong . . . loincloth?
Blurb:
He rode into town to buy supplies, not a woman.
For hunted recluse Rafe McBride, the raven-haired beauty on the auction block is exactly what he doesn't need. A dependent woman will be another clue his vengeful stepbrother can use to find and kill him. But Rafe's conscience won't let him leave another innocent's virginity to the riff-raff bidding. He buys her, promising to return her to St. Louis untouched. He only prays the impending blizzard holds off before her sultry beauty breaks his willpower.
She wanted freedom, not a lover.
Whisked to the auction block by her devious, gambling cousin, and then sold into the arms of a gorgeous stranger, outspoken artist Maggie Monroe isn't about to go meekly. Especially when the rugged mountain man looks like sin and danger rolled into one. But a blizzard and temptation thrust them together, and Maggie yearns to explore her smoldering passion for Rafe.
But when the snow clears, will the danger and secrets that surround Rafe and Maggie tear them apart?
Excerpt:
Oh, Lord. He was going to kiss her. She shouldn’t want this. She was confused enough. Respectable women didn’t kiss men they barely knew, certainly not men who made them have wild, exotic dreams.
It was crazy. He was making her want crazy things. Making her not give a damn about her reputation or her virginity. Or her long-awaited freedom. All she could think about was that dream, and the way his sinful mouth had felt. The table was only a step away, and honey was just as sweet as peach juice…
She swallowed hard and looked up into his hooded eyes.
“Maggie,” he groaned. “Don’t be scared. I’d never hurt you.”
Her mouth parted to object, but firm lips covered hers, hungry, demanding. She gasped, shocked at his hunger, but even more at the illicit response coursing through her. An aching heat unfurled low in her stomach, pulsed between her legs. Oh, yes. It started just like in the dream
He deepened the kiss, coaxed her lips with his warm tongue. Long, languid strokes teased the inside of her mouth, encouraging, tempting before he pulled back to nibble the corners of her lips.
Oh, God. Is this what all kisses felt like? Hot, lethargic? Melting her like molasses over warm bread?
“Kiss me, Maggie,” he breathed.
Thanks so much for this fun and fascinating post, Jennifer. And, BTW, I prefer briefs on a man. lol!
I'm shocked and surprised. Slightly Tarnished was just released June 3, so I thought I'd have until at least December before I had to start promoting Wholesale Husband. But, for once, I'm glad I was wrong. The release date for Wholesale Husband is September 28th.
Here's a blurb:
She needs his name. He needs her money. But can a rich New York socialite and a poor Irish immigrant find true love in the gilded age?
Betrayed by her fiancé and heart sick over her father’s death, Clarissa Burdick is further devastated when she learns she can’t inherit her father’s company—the company she loves—until she’s twenty-five or married. And Clarissa is neither. So she sets out to find a husband strong enough to protect her from her uncle’s thugs, too uneducated to run the company himself, and poor enough to marry a woman in name only.But Irish immigrant Devin Flannery is smarter than he seems and more educated than Clarissa expects.Her Wholesale Husband soon proves a greater risk to her heart than her company.
And an excerpt:
“This is a serious proposal,” she insisted, gnawing her lip.
“Who are you codding?” He leaned forward, stretching his leg, ready to descend from the suffocating confinement of the hansom cab.
Again, she stayed him with a touch and again, his body reacted to the contact in a most unwanted way. He narrowed his eyes and pried her hand from his wrist.
“Surely, you’ve heard of marriages of convenience,” she insisted rather desperately as she rubbed her wrist. “Well, this is an honest proposal. If you come with me to Mr. Tate’s office, I can give you a copy of the contract outlining a proposed marriage agreement between us. If you don’t trust my word or that of my attorney’s, then you can find someone to read the documents to you before you sign them.”
She rubbed her wrist again. He considered apologizing for his rough handling but after her last comment, he thought better of it. Even after he’d confessed to some schooling, she still thought him too stupid to read.
Well, if she wanted a dumb Irishman, he’d give her one.
“Aye, lassie. I’ll not be taking yer word for it and that’s fer sure.”
“Then you’ll come with us?”
There must be something seriously wrong with me. But he’d play along, just to see how far Miss Burdick would take this dangerous game she played.
“Aye,” he all but snarled. “I’ll go with you to the lawyer’s office, but I ain’t signing nothing until someone I trust has a look at those papers.”
Miss Burdick’s luminous smile shone like the sun bursting through the clouds on a stormy day. Devin’s heart dropped to his stomach. Fiona would smile like that if he had the money to send her to that fancy boarding school.
Damn if he wasn’t actually considering her proposal.
Welcome to week one of the Wild Roses Valentine's Month Blog Tour! Commentors on all eleven Wild Roses Blogs are automatically entered to win one of four weekly prizes and a grand prize worth $50. So stay tuned all month, visit as many blogs as possible and leave a comment for your chance to win!
My guest today, who'll be talking about the significance of first lines, is Kat Duncan.
As a young child, Kat once tried to confess the telling of her stories to her parish priest because she thought they fit the definition the nuns gave for 'telling a lie'. The wise priest asked her if her stories were told to hurt other people. "Oh, no!" she replied, "I only tell them to make people happy." The priest asked her if she had any other sins to confess and when she didn?t, he advised her to continue telling her stories and then he assigned her a few prayers to say for those who could not hear them. Kat has been telling her 'lies' ever since and writing stories to entertain and enlighten. After a successful career as a software engineer, Kat decided she needed something different to do. She's now a tutor of adolescents with special needs. With one teenager in high school (home school) and another in college, every moment of her meager spare time is spent creating romances.
So, Kat, tell us what you think about the Significance of First Lines~
You want to be seduced when you read a book. You want to be drawn in, to forget your troubles and just enjoy yourself. That's why first lines in a book should be like pickup lines. They could be the kind you might expect to hear in a bar, "Hi gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?" or in a nightclub, "Hey, I'm Joe, wanna dance with me sexy lady?" These kinds of first lines are a sexy come-on. They promise an enjoyable, sensual experience. How's this for a first line:
"Strip off his shirt," she said.
That's the first line of the book I'm working on now, Ransom's Captive. It's an historical romance and I wanted the first line to be a bit scandalous-sounding. The next few paragraphs show why the man's shirt has to be stripped off.
First lines could also be the kind you might hear from the cell phone salesman at the mall "We've got a 1-day special on iPhones." These can feel a bit off-putting, making you feel as if you have to pay attention to something you don't want to miss out on. The first line of my romantic suspense, Fifty-eight Faces, is:
"We're gonna win this one, Caroline."
Win? What are they gonna win? I have to find out. Within a few paragraphs it's clear they need to win a big court case over the Blue Diamond or they'll have to close their financially-challenged children's hospital.
Still other first lines are the kind you might hear walking around a huge warehouse store "Were you able to find everything you're looking for?" The solicitation lets you know you are in good hands, or maybe it irritates the heck out of you because you don't like to be interrupted while you shop. The first line of Six Days to Midnight, another romantic suspense I wrote, goes:
"With an explosion of dirt and hooves, Mirza whipped her mount toward the starting line."
The words are harsh and the character, Mirza, sounds merciless. She hurts my feelings just whipping her horse. She doesn't even think of it as a horse. To her it's just a "mount". An evil woman. I don't like her already.
And then there are the kinds of first lines that are sort of slow-witted. The kind you don't always understand right away, but yet can't stop listening to. The kind you might hear sitting next to an old man at a bus stop. "You know, back when the bus stop was on Main Street, folks used to wait inside the newspaper office. Good stories weren't so hard to find back then." You scratch your head and read on, hoping everything will become clear if you keep reading. Another of my historicals, Without a Lord, starts like this:
"It isn't possible to capture a faerie."
Huh? If it's not possible, then why are we talking about it? In the short conversation that follows, we learn that dozens of knights, desperate to end a local war, insist that they've seen a faerie.
Depending on what kind of mood you're in, you may be turned off by the first line or you may be interested in hearing more. Personally, I'd rather have a reader put my book down if they're turned off. I'd rather they read it when they're in a mood to enjoy it. The first lines of a book set the mood and tone and should be an honest indication of what is to come. If I keep reading it's because I've been seduced by the first line.
Chief of surgery at a small children's hospital, Caroline's last hope to save it from financial ruin evaporates when she loses the Blue Diamond case to greedy Evan Quinn. When Evan buys the hospital property for high profit condo conversion, Caroline's hatred shifts into full red-alert.
But Evan is not her real enemy. Rolf, the hospital's chief administrator, has had his eye on the blue diamond since he learned of it from his Nazi grandfather. To be the 58th face to possess the Blue Diamond, one for each of its facets, grants the owner unlimited power. Rolf plans to kill the current owners and use the diamond to build his Neo-Nazi regime. Can Caroline give up her hatred and Evan his greed before Rolf kills them both?
Excerpt from Fifty-eight Faces:
"If I wasn’t sworn as a doctor, I’d pull this trigger.”
A flash lit the darkness. An ear-shattering echo reverberated in the concrete vault. Evan staggered. Caroline dropped the gun, and its over-sensitized trigger fired again. It spun like a top on the concrete. She rushed forward.
“Evan. Evan. Are you hurt? Where? I didn’t pull the trigger. It just went off in my hand.” She grabbed his shoulders, bracing him, scanning him for a wound.
He steadied himself and pushed her aside. “You missed.” He stared at the gun lying on the floor. He picked it up and hefted it, his brows pinched in thought. Pointing it away from her, he firmly grasped the weapon and gently tapped its side. It fired.
He turned on her, his mouth thinned into a grimace, his eyes squinting.
She put up her hands. “Evan, don’t…”
He tipped the gun toward the ceiling and, with a snap, removed the clip. He tossed the pieces in opposite directions. They spun and clattered on the concrete floor. In a few quick steps, he closed the distance between them. His broad hands engulfed her shoulders, infusing her shivering body with a surge of solid warmth.
“That gun was rigged by an expert. An expert who arranged for us to meet here. Then disappeared.”
Cha Cha's at it again. As I was reading follow up comments to my previous blog, (see earlier post on Wild Kingdom) I heard Cha Cha scrambling in the kitchen. I left the computer to check on him and he was "guarding" the refrigerator. A moment later, Titi jumped off the futon and ran into the kitchen. I heard a squeak. Dreading what I would find, I ventured back into the kitchen and found this:
There's a field behind my house and a pasture across the street. Prime hunting ground for a feline on the prowl.
Thank God, Titi is such a got mouser and now...a great rat killer!
Today isn’t part of The Wild Roses Blog Tour, but I do have a unique guest on my blog today.
Pamela S. Beason lives in the Pacific Northwest, where she writes novels and screenplays and works as a private investigator. When she's not on the job, she explores the natural world on foot or cross-country skis, in her kayak, and underwater as a scuba diver. And like the heroine of her new romance, On Shaky Ground, she knows how to rearrange the landscape with a backhoe.
So, Pamela—a writer, a PI, and a backhoe operator? That’s truly a unique combination of careers for a woman. How did these careers come about?
Yeesh, I have to admit to my checkered past right off the bat? I've had many different careers, largely as a result of having a lot of doors slammed in my face. I graduated college with a degree in Latin American Studies, and the only organization that wanted to hire me was the CIA, and after interviewing with them, I decided they were just too weird to deal with. I've worked as a translator, a geologic research technologist, a mechanical/architectural/electrical drafter, a technical writer/editor, and now a private investigator. Writing has played a big role in many of my jobs.
The backhoe driving was a sideline. Years ago, we were doing some landscaping on our property and while my husband could rent a backhoe cheaply, it didn't come with an operator. So I learned how to drive the monster. It's a lot of fun to hurl around boulders and dig trenches, but backhoes are not precise machines, it's easy to whack something or someone you didn't intend to, and getting bonked with a backhoe bucket can be lethal. I put a backhoe accident in On Shaky Ground because I thought it would be dramatic, funny, and a very unusual love scene for a romance.
I bet that backhoe bit does make a great scene. Do you have a background in law enforcement?
If you could see me, you wouldn't have to ask that. I'm five feet tall. (But don't mess with me, I was on the judo team in college and being shorter than your opponent is an advantage.) Believe it or not, I became a PI because my tech writing work was disappearing to India, and I knew I could use my various skills and experience in the investigation business, which cannot be outsourced to another country. Also, I once decided I wanted to go to law school, studied and took the LSAT and did very well on it, but then I got smart and interviewed a bunch of lawyers and decided that while I was good at legal thinking, I didn’t want to spend my days shuffling papers written in an obscure and obtuse language. Maybe that's the editor in me; every time I get hold of a legal document, I want to rewrite it into plain English.
I figured that being a private investigator might help my mystery writing career, too. I usually don't tell my investigation clients that I'm a mystery writer, though; they might fear that their secrets would end up in my books. (If any of my clients are reading this—your secrets are safe with me; I swear!)
How does one become a PI?
That varies tremendously from state to state; a few states have no requirements at all! I'm in Washington State, where you have to pass a pretty stiff exam to be licensed. I studied for three quarters in a certificate program at the University of Washington—it was intense. You need to know the state laws, federal laws, the court system, and a lot of details about where to find various types of information. I also worked as an intern for a public defender for awhile, honing my interview and surveillance skills. After you get your license, you have to carry a ton of liability insurance. You need to be very careful when taking on cases; especially locates—you have to be sure you're not enabling a stalker. You have to be discrete, too. People trust you with their secrets, and some are pretty ugly.
What’s your most interesting case to date? You can change the names to protect the innocent. Lol!
A lot of cases have interesting elements to them. I've worked on cases of internal theft within companies; it's fascinating to interview all the employees and try to put all the clues together to determine 'who dunnit.' Some criminals are pretty entertaining, too—I remember one drug dealer who argued for his 2nd amendment rights because he needed his guns to defend his drug stash.
Probably the most amusing case I ever worked on involved an incident where everybody had a completely different story about who the perpetrator was and what happened. Finally I asked the arresting officer point blank, "Do you know what was going on?" "Not a clue," he answered.
Are any of your manuscripts based on any of your cases?
No. I don't want to run the risk of being sued, and frankly, a lot of PI work is depressing—nobody calls a PI when everything is going well. So I really don't want to revisit cases I've worked on. I do use my knowledge of investigation and many of my experiences in my stories. One of my themes in my mysteries is the way that public opinion and personal bias can influence the outcome of any situation. Law enforcement officers, attorneys, judges, and jurors are all people; they are influenced by their personal histories and by what they see and hear in the media.
When I wrote On Shaky Ground, I used an observation that I got from investigation work: it's very easy to make an accusation, the public is all too willing to believe it, and it's darn hard to defend yourself after you've been accused. My heroine, Elisa, is accused of insurance fraud and the circumstantial evidence keeps stacking up against her.
What kind of books do you write?
I write romances and mysteries. I'm naturally more inclined toward mysteries, so my romances are definitely nontraditional. A major publisher who shall remain nameless rejected On Shaky Ground because it was 'too big,' meaning that it had too many elements in it. I like rich, complicated novels, and it's hard for me to simplify a story too much; I always have to insert subplots and lots of interesting characters and some suspense and mystery. I like to add dashes of humor, too. On Shaky Ground has a lot of funny scenes between short dark Elisa and her tall blond stepsister Charlie and between Elisa and the investigator hero, Jake. If On Shaky Ground does well, I'd love to write a book focusing on Charlie and another on their mother Gail—they're a quirky Anglo-Saxon family with a Guatemalan connection.
My mystery series has just been purchased by Berkley Prime Crime. I self-published the first book, WILD—you can still find a few copies floating around on the internet.
All my books have Nature and animals in them. Wild is full of cougars; the sequel has a bear; On Shaky Ground has a snake, a tree frog, a raccoon, and a cat.
What kind of books do you read?
It would be easier to say what I don't read, which would be books about politics and celebrities and sports. The only nonfiction I read (aside from research done for work) is true adventure or compelling biographies about people who have overcome major obstacles in life. As for fiction; I read in every category—it just has to be a good story and I'm glued to it. My only requirement is that it can't be too much like my life: I read to escape.
How long have you been a PI?
I've had my own agency (with my business partner Molly) for three years now. I did some investigation work years ago for a public defender agency.
A writer?
I've always written. In college, I could pass an essay test on any subject. For clients, I've written everything from scripts for voice actors to a help system for a cardboard manufacturing plant. But I started getting serious about novels and publication in 1996, and I've been working hard at it ever since.
How many published books do you have to your credit?
Like most writers, I have more written books than published books. I published 11 'how-to' books (mostly computer-related) years ago, but they're all out of print now. Currently, I have Wild and On Shaky Ground, and more to be published by Berkley in the next couple of years. I studied screenwriting and I write screenplays, too, and I keep hoping Hollywood will come knocking on my door.
Who doesn't? But tell me something about your most recent release, On Shaky Ground.
It's not your traditional romance—it starts with an earthquake and proceeds thru vandalism and arson and explosions. The heroine, Elisa, is half-Guatemalan. One publisher said she didn't know what to do with a half-ethnic character. I thought (but didn't say), Gosh, lady, have you looked around at your neighbors lately?
Can you give us a blurb and an excerpt?
Here's the blurb: When Terrence Langston ran Langston Green, the plant nursery sailed along like a well-run ship. But when his daughter Elisa takes charge after his sudden death, she feels more like the captain of the Titanic. First, vandalism, then a major earthquake, then arson. And now a handsome insurance investigator believes that she's behind all the destruction? Will she have to get killed to prove him wrong?
I'm just learning how to use WordPress, though, so if you have any tips for blog wonderfulness, please share. You can also get there through my website at http://www.pamelasbeason.net
What an interesting life you lead! Thanks for stopping by and sharing!
Belated Happy Valentine's Day! I hope it was a day filled with love and romance. Or at the very least, a good romance novel.
I offer you an excerpt of a morning after from my newly released story, TWICE THE TROUBLE:
