Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
The older you get, the tougher it is to lose weight because by then, your body and your fat are really good friends.
Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today.
Sometimes I think I understand everything, then I regain consciousness.
I gave up jogging for my health when my thighs kept rubbing together and setting my pantyhose on fire.
Skinny people irritate me! Especially when they say things like, "You know, sometimes I just forget to eat." Now I've forgotten my address, my mother's maiden name, and my keys. But I've never forgotten to eat. You have to be a special kind of stupid to forget to eat.
I read this article that said the typical symptoms of stress are: eating too much, impulse buying, and driving too fast. Are they kidding? That is my idea of a perfect day.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:34 AM
Friday, June 27, 2008
Three women, one engaged, one married and one a mistress, are chatting about their relationships and decided to amaze their men. That night all three will wear black leather, stiletto heels, and a mask over their eyes. After a few days they meet up for lunch.
The engaged woman: "The other night when my boyfriend came over he found me with a black leather bodice, tall stilettos and a mask. He saw me and said, 'You are the woman of my life. I love you.' Then we made love all night long."
The mistress: "Me, too! The other night I met my lover at his office and I was wearing the leather bodice, heels, mask over my eyes and a raincoat. When I opened the raincoat he didn't say a word, but we had wild sex all night."
The married woman: "I sent the kids to stay at my mother's house for the night. When my husband came home I was wearing the leather bodice, black stockings, stilettos and a mask over my eyes. As soon as he came in the door and saw me he said, 'What's for dinner, Batman?'"
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:07 AM
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Coming in 2 weeks:
In the seventh century B.C., Kalla must pretend to be one of the hated enemy--a Spartan--in order to save her family. Her gift of sight has brought her to the attention of her Spartan master, Praxiteles, who is determined to use her to overthrow one of the dual kings of the Spartan monarchy. She has no choice but to play along, or her father and brothers will die.
Nikolaos, an Aresian vampire, is a fierce proponent of one of the Spartan kings--in direct opposition to the man who threatens Kalla's family. When Praxiteles introduces Kalla as the Spartan's new oracle, Nikolaos is suspicious of her, both because her behavior is inconsistent with that of a Spartan woman but especially because of her association with Praxiteles. However, he can't resist her beauty and intelligence.
When she tells Nikolaos something that happened in a recent battle that no one but one of his men--in whose fealty he has absolute trust--could know, he begins to believe her. With his skepticism put to rest, he gives in to his desire for her.
Kalla and Nikolaos must now face a common enemy--one who threatens both Nikolaos' way of life and Kalla's family. But their happiness is not guaranteed. What will Nikolaos do when he discovers Kalla is involved in the plot to overthrow his king? Can their love overcome the bite of betrayal?
Nikolaos pushed back the flap of his war-tent and entered. Inside were accoutrements of life in battle—his bedroll and coarse woolen blankets, a small table and chair for planning strategies, a rock pit for a fire in the evening and a knapsack with extra clothing.
Scowling, he pulled off his helmet and placed it on the table. He removed his red cape, his scowl deepening at the tears in the fabric. Although that was the cloak’s function—to act as a barrier and to hide his wounds and any blood that otherwise might be bared for the enemy to see—for an adversary to get that close… He needed to increase the intensity of his practice sessions.
He sat down on the rickety chair that always surprised him with its ability to withstand his bulk. With a low grunt, he leaned over and unfastened his greaves, straightening to set the bronze shin guards on the table. Then he closed his eyes and rotated his shoulders to ease the tension riding him.
Ares preserve me. He needed a blood thrall, but the uncertain—and often brutal—life of a warrior on the battlefield didn’t lend itself to having a companion who would be left unguarded and vulnerable.
His eyes burned. He could wait until his captain brought him the Helot who’d murdered Deucalios. Then he would replenish the blood he’d lost from wounds sustained during the battle as well as discover whether others were involved in the despicable butchery. In the meantime, he had to get the stench of war cleansed from his body. There was no time or means for a true bath, but he had a bucket of water and cleansing rags. They would have to do.
He stood and shrugged out of his breastplate, hanging it from a nail in the center post. He traced one finger through the drying blood of his friend, then discarded his sandals and the rest of his clothing. He dipped one of the cloths into the water and stroked it over his torso and arms. The tepid temperature of the water helped cool his overheated body, yet there was one part of him that refused to be appeased.
Battle and blood always made him hard, ready for sex.
He wrapped the wet cleansing cloth around his erection and stroked, hard tugs of his hand, uncaring of technique. He had but one goal—relief from the lust that made his flesh ache.
He was just about to ejaculate when a clearing of a throat from outside his tent garnered his attention and stayed his release. He let go of his flagging erection. “Come,” he growled, not bothering to cover his nudity—or his still half-erect cock. He was not the only man in camp in this condition and so whoever entered would not be surprised to see him thus.
Castor ducked between the flaps of the tent, pulling along with him the Helot. The man’s hands were bound behind his back and his feet were fettered with manacles and a short chain. The captain gave the man a push, sending him tumbling to his knees.
“Perhaps this kunarion can provide you some relief, Lord General.” Castor’s gaze flicked down to Nikolaos’ erection, his dark eyes flaring with unmistakable interest. It wouldn’t be the first time the captain had satisfied Nikolaos’ lust-ridden body after a heated skirmish. Castor had dispensed with his helmet. His dark hair was wet, his face, hands and arms cleansed of the blood that had streaked his skin. Clearly, he’d taken the time to bathe some of the stench of battle from his body as well.
“Not in a thousand lifetimes,” Nikolaos muttered. He inhaled, taking in the scent of the defeated man’s fear, and the blood lust hammered at him. “But he can provide relief of another sort.”
“Do what you will to me. It cannot be worse than a life of slavery.” The Helot met Nikolaos’ gaze briefly, then his eyelids dropped and he stared at the ground.
“You think not?” Nikolaos took his time studying the man, allowing the fear to escalate. Soon the overriding energy from the strong emotion zinged through Nikolaos’ veins, heightening his arousal so that his rod rose toward his belly. He took the few steps necessary to stand directly in front of the enemy. “Accept your place in life. You are no longer a free man. You will never again be a free man.”
The man’s jaw flexed, but he remained silent.
Nikolaos could no longer ignore his need for blood. “Have you ever been the blood thrall of an Aresian? No, of course you haven’t.” He answered his own question. “Else you’d know there are worse things than death.”
Copyright 2008 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
Wicked Omen, book one in the Dark Pantheon series - available July 11th at Ellora's Cave!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I read something the other day that made me go "Hmm. Didn't know that." It was part of a comparison of styles, so to speak. Namely, Martha Stewart and Maxine (you know, the cartoon character on greeting cards).
And today's tip is from Martha, *not* Maxine. LOL
To store celery so that it will stay good for weeks (rather than having it go limp and icky like it does with me), wrap it in aluminum foil. Who knew?!?
(And for enquiring minds, Maxine's response was something along the lines of "Celery? What's that?" LOL)
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 5:54 AM
Monday, June 23, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Here it is--my first Kensington Brava, due out January 2009:
And the back cover blurb:
Sexy. Primal. Irresistibly male. Sherrill Quinn's breathtaking new novel introduces heroes who are definitely in a pack of their own...
It takes a lot to ruffle Taite Gibson, investigator with the Pima County Attorney's Office. But the enormous, snarling werewolf that's stalking her through the streets of Tucson? Yeah, that oughta do it. Those terrifying attacks convince Taite to seek out Ryder Merrick, a reclusive British horror writer reputed to know everything about werewolves, including how to kill them. Turns out he also knows how to leave her shaking with desire...
On his remote private island, Ryder can live safely with the beast inside him, unable to harm others or himself. Then Taite arrives, her lush, sweet scent and gorgeous curves tempting him to give in to every wicked hunger. And as a full moon rises, the only way to keep Taite safe from the evil that's followed her here is to convince her to trust in an attraction that's deeply dangerous, and wilder than she ever guessed...
W00t!! I can't wait for January!
Friday, June 20, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
...with my whine.
I love living in Arizona. I really do. Where I live I have a nearly 360 degree view of mountains. I wake up just about every morning to bright blue skies (a little too bright this time of year, seeing as how the sky starts getting light around 4:45 a.m., which wakes me up). October through May is nearly perfect--low humidity and temps that are a lot nicer than, say, putting up with 20s and 30s (or lower!).
We're now just a few days away from the official start of summer, and our temps have climbed up and stayed up above the 100 degree mark. This entire week we're not supposed to be cooler than 105. By this weekend they're saying 109-110.
Oy. It's like walking around in an oven. The only saving grace, believe it or not, is when the monsoons arrive. That means the humidity rises, yes, and with temps that still stay in the 100s it can be pretty sticky. But the storms are incredible. And once monsoon season ends, we only have a month or month and a half of hot weather before things get bearable again.
But for right now... Bleck. It's too hot.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 5:44 AM
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I'm going to try something new here on Tuesdays--no, I won't be blogging about getting drunk. I'm glad to say I've never been drunk and now that I'm old(er) and have to keep an eye on my blood pressure, I don't ever plan to be drunk. (I can be stoooopid on my own without any help from booze, thank you very much.) No, what I'd like to do is share a tip about something--whether it's about writing, something to do with the work-life, or just life in general.
I'm going to start with something to do with writing.
Back in September of last year, Mary-Theresa Hussey, Sr. Editor with Harlequin Silhouette NY, came to Tucson and spoke to my local RWA chapter. She referenced writer Mickey Spillane (of Mike Hammer fame).
Mickey said that he writes the first line of a book to sell that book, and the last line of the book to sell the next one. Great advice. Mary-Theresa went on to say that that's a good thing to keep in mind for individual chapters, too. Write the first line of the chapter to get the reader hooked, and the last line of the chapter to get them to turn the page to the next chapter.
I've been (for the most part) doing that intuitively, but it's nice to have it affirmed.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
I am not a big politico by any means, but out of all the commentators and reporters out there, Tim Russert made it fun. He was so down-to-earth and broke things down so simply... Well, even I could understand what was going on.
He's going to miss the upcoming election, which I think he would have had so much fun covering. Be sure to catch Meet the Press, the show Tim moderated, this Sunday. It will be dedicated to Tim.
Rest in peace, Mr. Russert.
EDIT: I watched Meet the Press this morning (Sunday 6/15). It was hosted by Tom Brokaw, for whom I have a lot of respect as well. After watching the program, what I came away with is that Tim Russert was just as genuine, just as authentic a person as I thought he was--he was truly a "what you see is what you get" individual. He was full of life, loyal to his friends and loving to his family. I wish I'd been able to know him in person instead of just on my TV.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 7:59 AM
Friday, June 13, 2008
Here's another one I got from my cousin P. It's hard to find a joke today without a dirty word or two in it, but here's one. I'll warn you...It's a groaner.
Two tall trees, a birch and a beech, are growing in the woods. A small tree begins to grow between them, and the beech says to the birch, "Is that a son of a beech or a son of a birch?"
The birch says he cannot tell.
Just then a woodpecker lands on the sapling.
The birch says, "Woodpecker, you are a tree expert. Can you tell if that is a son of a beech or a son of a birch?"
The woodpecker takes a taste of the small tree. He replies, "It is neither a son of a beech nor a son of a birch. It is, however, the best piece of ash I have ever put my pecker in."
LOLLOL I told you you'd groan. *G*
That's my contribution for a Friday the 13th. Have a good one!
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:00 AM
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
I'm so happy--I've finally gone over the half-way mark on book #2 in my Moon series for Kensington. Seeing as how this is due to my editor by August 1st, it's about time. I hit a snag for about a month, maybe a little over--the story wouldn't move in the direction I wanted it to, then I ended up having a neck/arm problem that was aggravated by typing (not by the typing itself, but by extending my arm to reach the keyboard). Aggravated mostly at work, not at home, since my laptop is more user friendly. I'm happy to say that the pain is nearly all gone.
Of course, that means that my back has started acting up. Phfft. It sucks getting old. Although I think my back going wonky has more to do with the fact that I've decided (again) to get serious about a diet and exercise program. It's my subconscious trying to sabotage me. But, dayum. If I can be so focused on my writing career, why can't I do the same with my diet?!?
So, anyway, back to my progress on Moon #2, I hope to get at least another 10,000 words written on it by the end of this week. Keep an eye on the meter on the left toward the bottom for how I'm doing.
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 5:42 AM
Monday, June 09, 2008
Saturday, June 07, 2008
Friday, June 06, 2008
- "Ah, yes, divorce, from the Latin word meaning to rip out a man's genitals through his wallet." ~ Robin Williams
- "I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy." ~ Tom Clancy
- "You know 'that look' women get when they want sex? Me neither." ~ Steve Martin
- "Having sex is like playing bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand." ~ Woody Allen
- "Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a date on a Saturday night." ~ Rodney Dangerfield
- "My girlfriend always laughs during sex--no matter what she's reading." ~ Steve Jobs
- "Clinton lied. A man might forget where he parks or where he lives, but he never forgets oral sex, no matter how bad it is." ~ Barbara Bush
- "Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place." ~ Billy Crystal
- "According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are far too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful." ~ Robert DeNiro
- "Sex at age 90 is like trying to shoot pool with a rope." ~ George Burns
Have a great Friday!
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 6:04 AM
Thursday, June 05, 2008
I am on an urban fantasy kick lately. While I'm trying to get over a pinched nerve or compressed disc or whatever it is in my neck that's radiating pain down into my right arm (mostly when I'm at work and using the mouse--it's on my desk, which is too high, but the underdesk tray is too low. *sigh*), I've been doing more reading than normal.
And my reading has been urban fantasies--Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files, Carrie Vaughn's Kitty series, and Kim Harrison's Rachel Morgan series. (I also read Stacia Kane's first urban fantasy, Personal Demons, and liked it a lot. Can't wait for the next in the series.) I have a couple of Cheyenne McCray's in my TBR pile that I need to pull out and read next.
I'm into urban fantasies so much that I've started my own. I'm still fleshing out the plot and overall story arc, but I did some brainstorming with my critique partners on Monday (and they were astonished that I'm planning on writing a book that doesn't have a lot of sex in it! It'll have some, but nothing graphic like in my erotic romances, and the romance won't be the main plot point). Things are starting to fall together. I have the first 2500 words written, and they're good. *G* As soon as I finish and turn in book #2 of my werewolf erotic romance, I'm going to really get cracking on what I've tentatively titled With a Twist of Demon.
If you read urban fantasies, which authors/books do you like?
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 5:53 AM
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
The human body is a machine that is full of wonder. This collection of human body facts will leave you wondering why in the heck we were designed the way we were.
- Scientists say the higher your I.Q. the more you dream.
- The largest cell in the h uman body is the female egg.
- The smallest is the male sperm.
- You use 200 muscles to take one step.
- The average woman is 5 inches shorter than the average man.
- Your big toes have two bones each while the rest have three.
- A pair of human feet contain 250,000 sweat glands.
- A full bladder is roughly the size of a soft ball.
- The acid in your stomach is strong enough to dissolve razor blades.
- The human brain cell can hold 5 times as much information as the Encyclopedia Britannica. (But the retrieval system, at least mine, sucks.)
- It takes the food seven seconds to get from your mouth to your stomach.
- The average human dream lasts 2-3 seconds.
- Men without hair on their chests are more likely to get cirrhosis of the liver than men with hair.
- At the moment of conception, you spent about half an hour as a single cell.
- There is about one trillion bacteria on each of your feet.
- Your body gives off enough heat in 30 minutes to bring half a gallon of water to a boil.
- The enamel in your teeth is the hardest substance in your body.
- Your teeth start developing (in your gums) 6 months before you are born.
- When you are looking at someone you love, your pupils dilate, they do the same when you are looking at someone you hate.
- Blondes have more hair than dark-haired people.
- Your thumb is the same length as your nose.
(You did it -- I KNOW you did !!!!!)
Mused by Sherrill Quinn at 5:40 AM