Monday, May 26, 2008

Happy Memorial Day

Today's the day we in the U.S. set aside to remember our fallen heroes--the men and women who have given their lives in the service of their country. Initially called Decoration Day, it was started after the Civil War as a way to honor those who had died in that conflict.

Additionally, the "National Moment of Remembrance" resolution was passed in December 2000 which asks that all Americans voluntarily and informally observe in their own way a Moment of remembrance and respect, pausing from whatever they are doing for a moment of silence or listening to "Taps"at 3 p.m. local time.

It's because of the sacrifices of military people over the years that you and I have the freedoms we do today. Whether we agree or disagree with the politics that sends them into battle, we must honor their commitment to perform their duty and their bravery.

Thank you.


Of course, this is Man Meat Monday so I must, well, share some man meat:


Saturday, May 24, 2008

Things to Ponder

Something for you to think about this weekend:


How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?

Why do you have to "put your two cents in" but it's only a " penny for your thoughts"? Where's that extra penny going to?

Once you're in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity?

Why does a round pizza come in a square box?

What disease did cured ham actually have?

How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on luggage?

Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up like every two hours?

Why are you IN a movie, but you're ON TV?

Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?

Why do doctors leave the room while you change? They're going to see you naked anyway.

Why is "bra" singular and "panties" plural?

Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?

If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a stupid song about him?

Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?

If the professor on Gilligan's Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in a boat?

Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They're both dogs!

If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME stuff, why didn't he just buy dinner?

If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?

Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?

Why did you just try singing the two songs above?

Why do they call it an asteroid when it's outside the hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when it's in your butt?

Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog's face, he gets mad at you, but when you take him for a car ride, he sticks his head out the window?

Friday, May 23, 2008

Friday Funny

I saw this the other day on another blog (I don't remember where) and it's pretty funny. And fun. Check it out:



LOL!

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Maria Zannini's TOUCH OF FIRE

And now a shameless plug for one of my online pals:




Between mage and man lies fire.

Leda has been ordered by the House of Ilia to use her fae gifts to find an alchemist’s bible, no matter what the cost. In a world where technology has been replaced by Elemental magic, this book is more dangerous than any spell or potion.

A ragged scrap of parchment is Leda’s only clue and it leads her to the last man known to have had the book—a savagely handsome ex-soldier turned scavenger. Greyhawke Tams. He’ll serve her needs nicely, in both her quest, and her bed.

The last thing Grey remembers is a bar brawl leaving him flat on his face. When he awakes, his situation hasn’t improved. He’s been bound in service to a contemptuous little fire mage with luscious curves and a deceptively innocent face. Grey’s not fooled—he’s hated the Elementals ever since he lost his younger brother to their brutal rites of passage.

But something about Leda tangles his brain faster than any woman he’s ever known. And soon it becomes clear she needs more than his “services”. A barbarous overlord wants that book and he’s willing to shatter Leda—body and spirit—to get it.

She needs his protection. Whether she wants it or not.


Read an excerpt or buy.

You can find out more about Maria at her website and blog.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Felidae, Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2




Part 3


Darcy stood up and slid away from the table. “Taquetha, this has been great, really. But I need to be going.” It was one thing to have her neighbor know she was dating someone, which she wasn’t. It was something altogether different that she thought Darcy would soon be banging both of these men.

Some things were better left private.

Malek nodded. “Yes. We have much to discuss, Kell, Darcy and I.”

The other woman nodded and gave Darcy a knowing smile. “I’d be goin’, too, if I had these two sexy thangs panting after me. I’ll save all y’all a burger, 'cause I’m sure y’all will be hungry once you get done…um…talking.”

“Oh, God.” This time Darcy just had to say it out loud. “Taquetha...”

“Don’t mind me. I ain’t gettin’ any, so I gotta get my thrills any way I can.” She patted Darcy on the shoulder and winked. “Since your apartment is in between theirs and mine, make sure sometimes you do it at your place, 'kay? That way I can listen.”

Darcy felt her face flame with even more heat. She put one hand on her forehead and gave a soft moan of embarrassment.

Kell slid off the table and came to stand on one side of her. Malek put one arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

All Darcy could do was shake her head while Malek and Kell grinned like alley cats. “I’m leaving,” she announced and picked up her purse from the grass beneath the picnic table.

“Thank you for the invitation, Taquetha,” Kell said, as always calm and polite.

“Sure thing, honey.” The other woman turned serious and shook her finger at the men. “You treat her right, you hear? Or you’ll answer to me.”

“Don’t worry.” Malek leaned down and kissed Taquetha’s cheek. “She’ll come to no harm from us.”

Taquetha lifted her chin. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“As well you should.” Malek slid his arm around Darcy’s waist and squeezed gently. “But we’ll treat Darcy like the precious commodity she is.”

Darcy twisted to look at him. “Hey. I’m not a commodity.” If he and Kell thought they could own her, they were wrong.

He pressed a kiss to her nose. “One of the definitions of commodity, according to the book of Merriam Webster, is ‘something of value’.” His arm tightened around her waist. “That’s what you are to us—isn’t that an accurate description then?”

She frowned, not sure if he was being serious or trying to pull one over on her. As they reached the street, Malek dropped his arm from around her waist and threaded his fingers through hers.

Kell took hold of her other hand. Giving her a wink, he said, “We wouldn’t want to lose you.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a two lane road,” she pointed out, “and our apartment is just right there.” She lifted their combined hands and pointed her index finger toward their eight-story building, which was on the other side of the street.

“We watch out for what’s ours,” Malek responded. He squeezed her fingers. “And you are ours, sweetling, as surely as we’re yours.”

Darcy fought back a shiver at the carnal promise in his words. When he brought her hand to his mouth and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on her knuckles, she clenched her thighs against the flood of moisture that slicked her labia.

A white pickup truck went by, then a small red car, and Kell said, “All clear. Let’s go.”

The men hustled her across the road, their longer strides meaning she had to trot to keep up with them. “What’s the rush?” she panted.

Kell’s eyebrows shot up. “You saw this—” he gestured toward his erection—”and you can still ask ‘what’s the rush?’”

She grinned. It was flattering, really, to have these two walking advertisements for male sex appeal be in this much of a hurry to get her alone. Especially after the time she spent being belittled by Randy…

No! She was not going to go there. Not today. Hopefully, if Randy had indeed moved on, not ever again.


Felidae ~ Copyright 2008 Sherrill Quinn. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

The Blog, It Be Personal

Over the last couple of months I've seen people snarking about what other people write on their blogs--sometimes quite angrily and to the blogger's face, so to speak. And while some blogs I've come across have raised my eyebrows at what's being said (especially authors who are railing against their publishers/agents/readers, you name it), there is one fundamental truth I realize.

It's their blogs--it's their prerogative to say whatever they want.

Even if it is potentially career-threatening.

Here's the thing. When I started blogging two years ago (or is it three now?) I decided I was going to, for the most part, have a blog for the general public (i.e., readers). Every now and again I will post something that may be of interest primarily to writers, but it's rare. Of course, writers are readers, too, so there's always something here for them. But if I decided one morning that I was going to devote every Tuesday to a political rant (which I'm not!), well, it's my blog. I can do what I want to with it.

One blog I go to nearly every day purely for the entertainment value is Joe Mallozzi's blog. (He's a writer/producer and one of the show runners of Stargate Atlantis.) Joe blogs about his dogs, the food he eats (he frequents some really fine restaurants in Vancouver, it seems), books he's reading and, often, what went on at his day job (which is, frankly, what's most interesting to me. I love reading the behind-the-scenes stuff and some of what goes into making a TV show.) And I've seen people complaining that he's not spending enough time blogging about the Stargate world. (Especially that he doesn't give enough information/pictures about the John Sheppard character, played by Joe Flanigan. My current lust-puppy. LOL. I'll admit, I'm a lurker--I have yet to comment on his blog even though I've been visiting it for a few months now.)

Well, it's his blog. It be personal. He can blog about whatever he wants to.

I've had writer friends who have been personally attacked for something they wrote on their blog, because they shared their opinion about something that was important to them.

Why is it that people are becoming less tolerant rather than more? Is it the impersonal nature of blogging and emailing that makes people ignore their self-edit buttons so that they spew vitriol at a complete stranger over something that (usually) isn't worth spending the energy getting upset about?

*sigh* I don't get it. Anyone have any thoughts on this?

Monday, May 19, 2008

Man Meat Monday


This makes me thirsty. Let me just lick the water up here, and here, and there...