This post is where minions may meet to chat tonight. You're welcome to go anywhere else on the blog and comment, but there's no guarantee anyone else will be there. Comment moderation is off so comments should appear right away.
Why you don't get published.
I heart pacatrue,
ReplyDeleteA secret admirer
Ah. Our first arrival.
ReplyDeleteAnd departure, apparently.
ReplyDeleteWhy do these chats always happen in the middle of the night for me? Pout.
ReplyDeleteAww, anonymous Valentine crushes - sooo sweet.
ReplyDeleteIt's time you moved back to civilization, Deece.
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to think of a topic for V-Day for my blog and failing miserably.
ReplyDeleteDeece: But you're here now!
This is going well.
ReplyDeleteTopic: Your idea of the perfect Valentine's Day.
ReplyDeleteNo sh*t, EE. I can't wait.
ReplyDeleteHow's your V-Day been?
I am here now, but only because I'm an insomniac. I should be in bed.
ReplyDeleteI managed to get a V-Day blog post up, but it's not what you think.
ReplyDeleteTOTALLY off topic question: Any of the Minions attending the San Francisco Writers Conference this weekend? I'll be there all three days and would love to say Hi. Post here or email "peter at peterdudley.com".
So much happened today. I thought I was going to be alone and have peace and quiet. Fat chance.
ReplyDeleteI like all of the submissions. Nice variety of styles and situations.
You're right in the middle of dinner time for some people. More will show up. And I'll send out a post on the email loop as a reminder.
ReplyDeleteWe just got done with dinner here and I signed on asap.
Ideal Valentine's Day? Um, I just did that in a writing exercise, remember? *kiss*
You wake up, stumble out of the bedroom to the kitchen, and there in the middle of the table is a vase with two dozen red roses. And standing at the stove cooking your eggs is House.
ReplyDeleteTake it from there.
(goes online to check last minute flights from Texas to CA...)
ReplyDeleteOH! No fair! You're using HOUSE?!?! Gregory House?!?! You play dirty.
ReplyDeleteOh wait. I like dirty.
Good grief, I do believe he just assigned yet another writing exercise. I'm tired tonight, darling.
Wait... "ideal valentines day" and "house cooking my eggs"
ReplyDeletedoes not compute
does not compute
fatal error
system failure
Hmmm...House cooking eggs for me.
ReplyDeleteFirst I jump him, then I ask him for Vicodin.
I'm afraid to sub a sex scene. :-)
ReplyDeleteThat was Brenda's Valentine's. You have a different one, Deece.
ReplyDeleteP: Okay, a girl is there, cooking your eggs, but she'd be whipping up a quiche, the roses aren't in a vase but scattered along the length of the dining room table. She's wearing a Valentine's Day red lace apron, matching red lipstick and her hair is a tangled mess around her sleepy but smiling face...
ReplyDeleteShe turns and winks and says... (You fill in from here)
And here's me thinking I would be late. Hi, all. I see 'true has a secret admirer. Can we unmask him/her by the end of the night?
ReplyDeleteWaiting for Brenda's story now.
Run it by us here, we'll tell you if it's okay to sub it.
ReplyDeleteYou know, EE, I TOLD you last week what I wanted for Valentine's Day and in typical male fashion, you absolutely and totally IGNORED my hint.
ReplyDeleteBut House is a good backup.
Is she wearing anything besides the apron?
ReplyDeleteI don't know, EE, is she?
ReplyDeleteSo...I don't get Vicodin?
ReplyDeleteOh well. I assume you're in mine. That's my perfect Valentine's. EE and me, all alone. Sigh.
You mean you were serious? You want a live kangaroo?
ReplyDeleteDeece, if you close your eyes, it's sort of like EE is there.
ReplyDeleteYou mean, run it by you in the comments here to see if it's okay to sub it to you for posting? Hmm. 300 word limit? Oh dear, I'll have to see what I can dig up...should it be unpublished?
ReplyDeleteI would say - "No syrup only butter and I like blueberries." And if House grouched and moaned, well, I have a magnificent set of knives and cleavers by Sabatier.
ReplyDeleteHi.
ReplyDeleteEE, have you ever seen any of December's...um, raunchier stuff? Are you sure you're ready for this? Mind you, haven't read all the 'romantic' subs yet, maybe it continued steamy.
ReplyDeleteHello.
ReplyDeleteWe don't care if it's published.
ReplyDeleteIt's always sort of like EE is here when I close my eyes. EE, or maybe Sid Vicious.
ReplyDeleteSteamy? Three people were hospitalized after reading the last three.
ReplyDeleteOh my. I'm only on number six.
ReplyDeleteAll right...let's see what I can find, then.
ReplyDeleteI came to watch HOUSE late. One of the cable channels is running it as repeats at 11pm.
ReplyDeleteI'm invariably up until 1am every night. Some nights I can't fall asleep. Of course, the eyes give out - just look at the pop bottle bottoms in my picture and you'll know why.
Who was hospitalized?
ReplyDeleteDeece: I have Percocet - that work?
Hey Robin!
By the way, if anyone sees a Valentine without one of my little cherub remarks, let me know. If I missed one, it was not intentional.
ReplyDeleteOkay...this one is pretty tame for me (but I always thought it was pretty romantic). It's also slightly edited from the published version. It's from my EC novel Blood Will Tell.
ReplyDelete“Ha ha. Seriously.” Cecelia put her hands on Julian's face. “I know you’ll know what to do. And if you don’t…that’s okay too, because we can figure it out together. Some people actually think I’m kind of smart, even if I don’t always act like it.”
Not for the first time, she grew warm just looking at him, just seeing him look at her, and she knew at that moment that he was falling in love with her just as hard and fast as she was falling for him.
“How can I make it up to you?” she whispered.
He smiled, his eyes still tired but with some of their usual spark. “I’m sure I can think of something.” He untied her robe and slipped it off her shoulders, making her shiver from the air conditioned cold and the intensity of his gaze.
He touched her shoulders first, running his hands lightly along the delicate ridges of her collarbones and down, over her breasts. Her nipples rose to meet his caress.
He passed over them, feeling the curve of her waist, the flat of his hands sliding over her stomach and back to her hips, stroking her belly, then back up her rib cage.
She was trembling now, watching his face as he touched her. His eyes were flat, black and deep, his face almost expressionless as he examined her like a piece of sculpture.
Everywhere he touched goose bumps raised on her skin. She wanted to reach for him, but did not dare.
He spun her around and lifted her hair off her shoulders, touching the curves of her ears and the nape of her neck before dropping her hair again. The sharp points of her shoulder blades warmed under his hands, the small of her back tingled when he ran a single finger all the way down her spine to the top of her buttocks. His hands found her hips and turned her to face him again, leading her as lightly as a dancer.
“Get on your knees,” he said softly.
I'm reading through now, and have just clicked that the cherubs are a ratings system. Duh. I'll let you know if I see any gaps.
ReplyDeleteBizarre coincidence #343. I have cherubs on my t-shirt today.
I'm ditching you to wath Lost at 9.
ReplyDeleteGood evening, children!
ReplyDeleteHeck yeah, Brenda! :-) I ran out a while ago (and all other things aside, I like keeping painkillers around simply because I am extremely clumsy.)
ReplyDeleteI'm digging up hot scenes for you and you're ditching to watch TV? You sure know how to hurt a girl.
ReplyDeleteHowdy! Am I late? Is it over? Wasn't sure what time the festivities were beginning!
ReplyDeleteI have one that's spicy but not particularly hot. It's in The Space Between. Wanna read it?
ReplyDeleteThat's steamy. That's a five cherub military toe-tap with sparklers and a Choco-Latte-Mocha Grande with whipped cream and sprinkles.
ReplyDeleteIf you'd started with Get on your knees it would have been hotter.
ReplyDeleteHi Phoenix!
ReplyDeletePlus, no way will you last past nine.
ReplyDeleteJust got home. What did I miss?
ReplyDeleteMaybe he's telling you he wants more raunch.
ReplyDeleteStill reading the 'romance' exercises. Where are the flowers? The chocolates? The candles?
Sure, Chumplet, I would! I'm having a hard time finding some that aren't too graphic. I know we're all adults here but the c-words and p-words tend to offend some people.
ReplyDeleteWhat is it, 1:20 over there?
ReplyDeleteOkay...you want raunch, I'll bring it...
ReplyDeleteBizarre coincidence #343. I have cherubs on my t-shirt today.
ReplyDeleteIt's a sign, A sign form the gods. We were intended for each other...
Now all one of use has to do is move halfway around the world
Lemme go dig it up.
ReplyDeleteShall we write sonnets to Evil Editor since it is Valentine's Day?
ReplyDeleteHold it, it's time for the reward challenge on Survivor. Back in a few.
ReplyDeleteYep, 1:20.
ReplyDeleteHi Chumplet!
ReplyDeleteNice, December! Warmed me right up.
Um, yes, and one of us has to change their usual preferences. Oh, yes and the other has to get divorced.
ReplyDeleteThe course of true love never did run smooth.
Thanks EE! This was a great way to celebrate VD. I enjoyed reading them all -- good thing I started early and did it in batches. So many ways to speak of Love and all done so well!
ReplyDeleteME
Oops, gotta go sell some chicken eggs. Back in a few.
ReplyDeletedamn, dinner time is just about to start out here and I'm already having trouble keeping up.
ReplyDeleteI like the late entry, December. Now with almost everyone submitting an entry, will anyone attempt a re-entry?
Phoenix, please explain.
ReplyDeleteWho's the paca-crusher? Unmask yourself!
ReplyDeleteDecember - that was very hot! Just read it. So where is the raunchy one? I would love to see someone turn it up so hot that the next EE post has his picture blushing.
ReplyDeleteCome on Sandra! And where did Robin disappear to?
I'm always in love on Valentines.
ReplyDeleteAnd port in a storm.
;)
Thanks Phoenix!
ReplyDeleteOkay...here's something a bit more graphic...I did take out the c-words though.
She smiled, that soft, sexy smile that set his heart pounding even faster, and pressed her lips against his chest, letting her tongue dart out to flick his nipple, scraping her teeth over his skin.
Need crashed over him, so hard and fast it turned his vision black. With a growl he spun her around, bending her forward on the bathroom counter so she could brace herself against it with her arms.
His heart and mind wanted to go slow, to make love to her, but his body just wanted to take, to bruise, to fuck.
His body won. Without preamble he slammed into her hilt deep. The beast within him, the vampire who craved her blood, roared with delight as Cecelia’s back arched and she cried out. Her voice mingled with his as he too yelled, a wordless cry of triumph.
Gripping her hips so hard his fingers hurt, he pulled back, then thrust again, and again, watching himself slide into and out of her, watching her skin grip his. The scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air like some exotic, expensive perfume, driving his sexual fury even higher.
A glance in the bathroom mirror showed him Cecelia’s face transported by pleasure, her eyes closed, her mouth open as she cried out again and again in time with his thrusts. The folds and fissures of her c*** massaged him, provided delicious friction against him as he ruthlessly stretched them, bruised them, forced them—and her—to comply to his demands.
He reached down between her legs, finding her hard little c*** and rubbing it, feeling it stiffen further. He pinched it lightly, tugging on it, then letting go and grazing it in a circular motion with his palm. Her cries grew louder. So did his.
He stood in the middle of the passageway, his bow tie draped loosely around his neck, shirt unbuttoned to his tanned chest. His hands were jammed in his pockets, and he nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His face was dipped downward as if he was embarrassed, but his gaze was steady on her face.
ReplyDeleteShe tried to read his expression, forgetting that her hand still gripped the door latch, her knuckles white with tension. They looked mutely at each other until she relaxed her hold on the door, pulled it wider and backed into the dim room.
David stepped inside, reached behind him to push the door shut, and was kissing her before the latch clicked. He pushed her backward until she made contact with the wall, his hands buried in her hair, his mouth hungrily devouring hers.
Margaret responded with a ferocity that surprised her. She curled her fingers into his beard and pulled him closer, a low growl emitting from her throat. Grasping the loose bow tie, she unfurled it from his neck, dropping it to the floor, and blindly worked on the remainder of the shirt buttons as her lips searched for the pulse under his jaw. She nipped lightly at his earlobe, and his groan caused her pulse to quicken.
He helped her efforts by shrugging off the tuxedo jacket and sliding the black suspenders off his shoulders. He clutched the teal dress at her hips and gathered the fabric in his fingers, pulling upward until the gown slid over her head. Her long curls swept upward and fell softly back to her shoulders and across her forehead, covering her closed eyes.
She enclosed her arms around his neck as he lifted her to topple on the bed, his body turning and covering hers. She wrapped her slim legs around one muscular thigh and pushed impatiently with her hips.
His low voice drifted through the buzz in her head. "There’s time, honey, no rush, let’s slow down."
She didn’t know any other form of lovemaking than a rush, but she made an effort to relax, concentrating on the fingers and lips that traced lightly over her body. Sometimes his beard tickled, making her giggle, and he would look up at her face, brows furrowed.
"Okay, okay, I’ll behave," she whispered and giggled again.
Minutes passed, maybe hours, she didn’t know – time had no meaning - before she arched her back and held her breath. She felt her body shudder of its own accord. It was so sweet. She almost cried with the sweetness.
Who's the paca-crusher? Unmask yourself!
ReplyDeleteWell, since paca's the only one that hasn't shown up yet... Maybe it's a self-love valentine's day.
It's always better the second time, isn't it, pjd?
ReplyDeletePhoenix is selling chicken eggs on the black market. She's the poor man's thief. Stole 'em from her next door neighbor's chicken house.
ReplyDeleteHey?!! Where's Church Lady been lately? Or is there a new nom de plume of which I am unaware???
ReplyDeletepaca-crusher? I'm not sure if that's good or bad.
ReplyDeleteI'm just stunned there's already 75 messages in here. I'm overwhelmed.
And crushed.
DAMN!
ReplyDeleteNice, Chumplet! It's always good when they lose track of time.
ReplyDeleteNow I feel like I have to make EE blush.
Church Lady is Christine Eldin. She decided to make her writer persona more known because of her children's book.
ReplyDeleteWhoa, I walk back i the room and my monitor's smoking. What'd I miss?
ReplyDeleteNo, Paca, you're crushed ON, apparently. :-)
ReplyDeleteThat damn was in awe of December's raunchy post. And Sandra's yours was lovely.
ReplyDeleteSo where are the men's sex posts? Or do I dare ask?
I think you made him blush with that one, December.
ReplyDeleteDamn, Chumplet and Deece are melting the place...
ReplyDeleteME said... This was a great way to celebrate VD.
ReplyDeleteAh, reading some of these, I'd say it's a great way to get VD.
Uh, hello...
OK, ignoring the politics of the situation completely, does these lines from an AP article make any grammatical sense:
ReplyDelete"It's not clear that contempt of Congress citations must be prosecuted. The law says the U.S. attorney "shall" bring the matter to a grand jury."
The inside quotes are in the article. Am I wrong but doesn't 'shall' mean exactly that there's no choice? It means you are required to do something in the future right? Where's the wiggle room in 'shall'?
Paca
I thought it was because Dana Carvey threatened to sue.
ReplyDeleteDoes "shall" bring to the grand jury=prosecution?
ReplyDeleteWe're getting like 10 comments a minute in here. I swear.
ReplyDeleteFunny how Phoenix had to specify that they were chicken eggs. What else would they be? Ostrich eggs? Alligator eggs? Seagull eggs?
ReplyDeleteI think we're breaking Blogger.
ReplyDeleteLol Ril!
ReplyDeletePhoenix eggs?
ReplyDeleteAh, grand jury without full prosecution, I see. Should asked ello.
ReplyDeleteFish eggs. It's a Dave and Robin thing, I think.
ReplyDeleteIt just says they shall bring it, not they shall prosecute it. They can bring it to the grand jury just for a few laughs.
ReplyDeletePhew, December. Ril, LOL!
ReplyDelete'shall'= 'will'. I'd say the correct use here would be 'will'. Maybe it derives from a 'we shall' remark and hence the inverted commas?
You know, there are these new fangled chat programs in the world.... Of course, I have no idea how to get more than a couple people in one at once.
ReplyDeleteDiscussing grammar is pretty unromantic for this thread, though.
ReplyDeleteWe need a chatroom.
ReplyDeleteErr... what 'True said...
ReplyDeleteIs Robin in here? This was her idea.
ReplyDeleteHow many comments can we put on a single thread? Testing, testing.
ReplyDeleteI can't keep up with chatrooms? I spaz out with the keyboard.
ReplyDeleteYeah, get a room...
ReplyDeleteI think this is everyone's way of subtly dscouraging me from filthying up the thread with more porn.
ReplyDeleteFor those with YIM, feel free to add me: Lirazel33
ReplyDeleteRil, Ril, Ril.
ReplyDeleteOnly if I can get a private room with The Crusher.
ReplyDeleteBlogger, Blogger, Bugger.
ReplyDeleteWe need a round-robin story. Assign order of writing, and one starts the story, the next person builds on, etc.
ReplyDeleteOnce upon a time...
Brenda, does your minion Yahoo group have chat facilities?
ReplyDeleteLirazel? 33? YIM?
ReplyDeleteIt's time for Xanax. I've gone non-medicated for most of the day and my brain is tormenting me to new levels. Fucking Valentine's Day anyway.
ReplyDeleteOnce upon a time there was a lonely little editor.
ReplyDeleteErr... I think the yahoo group DOES have one; let me check.
ReplyDeleteLirazel33 on YIM. Lirazel is my online nickname (bonus points for whomever knows who that is without googling it), and YIM is yahoo instant messenger.
You need some chocolate.
ReplyDeleteI haven't rejected about 6 professors' papers by doing this chat instead. I think the professors support my chatting instead of working.
ReplyDeleteWe can buy Ibuprofin with codeine OTC over here, Brenda. It's one of the only things I like about living here. (Okay, that's not true. It's actually the only thing, full stop.)
ReplyDeleteI want to point out that on romance scene number 17 three guys in a row asked for less military action and more romance.
ReplyDeleteWhat are we doing to them?
Men are so sentimental, McK. Look at Field of Dreams.
ReplyDeleteWhere are you, December - Canada or Australia?
ReplyDeleteApparently, it doesn't provide a chat for the group. If you have yahoo IM though, sign in there and message me and I can start a conference.
ReplyDeleteAnd if EE is a good boy, we can run webcams...
Classy.
ReplyDeleteAnd your iambic pentameter is off. Is that you, Mom?
Very naughty, Anon, but not quite enough for a love scene.
ReplyDeleteI am in the Southwest of England, Chumplet. RURAL England.
ReplyDeleteLoverly, Deece.
ReplyDeleteI ranted today about being a romance novelist who hates Valentine's Day.
And I don't need chocolate. I knwo what I need, but I'm not about to tell you HERE.
ReplyDeleteNow if you all will excuse me, Peter just added me on yahoo... C'mere, big guy.
Anonymous posts this excerpt:
ReplyDeleteI stared at my fingers as they fumbled with his belt. They shook against the leather strap as it wove under the loops of his jeans, tugging this way and that incoherently. "Why'd you wear a belt?" I had to ask. "You know what we came up here to do."
"My pants fall off without it."
I finally managed to tug the thing free but his jeans didn't go anywhere. "Hah. You're lying. You just did it to fuck with me."
I felt him grin. "Well, actually, that is what we-"
"Stop teasing," I said as I hid my smile. This was his first time, but he seemed calmer than me. Something I loved about him. The opposite of yours truly who thought, don't mess this up, don't mess this up, all the way out to the cabin in his truck.
"I won't tease you, Bec," he replied, and I could tell he was trying to tell me something important. My last boyfriend had been a poet but now I had John who… wasn't. But only John made me shake.
I raised my hand up to caress his cheek. He hadn't shaved again for a few days, the lazy ass. Actually, it was because he knew I liked it on him. My mouth instinctively thrust upwards to suck on his chin, licking the stubble with the flat of my tongue.
Ignore the typo. Sorry.
ReplyDeleteFlippin' typo on an editor's blog. Freakin' figures.
Yes, Chumplet, it is very pretty. All those rolling hills. Nothing but rolling hills, cows and sheep, as far as the eye can see...just rolling hills.
ReplyDeleteVery sweet, Anon.
ReplyDeleteBrenda, funny how your comments always seem to go with your picture.
Rolling hills that remind you of...
ReplyDeleteSorry. Have just finished last three romance submissions. If you've read them, you'll understand.
I agree, Anon, very sweet. Although I wonder about the poor girl's face with the boyfriend so stubbly. Beard burn is NOT fun.
ReplyDeleteI've been munching this afternoon on a snack mix that incuded "hot wasabi balls."
ReplyDeleteI feel so naughty.
Stubble's okay if you use your teeth.
ReplyDeleteI'm starting a second chat post so this one doesn't explode. If you find a chat room leave me a message.
ReplyDeleteRobin? Rooobin?
ReplyDeleteUm, thanks, I think, Chumplet... I think.
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh, I disappear for a few minutes and it's 140 comments! Very cool but everyone is having cross conversations and it is too hard to follow! I'm just not that smart.
ReplyDeleteBut December, keep the por, er sex scenes coming! That's about all the action I'll see tonight, I'm married after all!
Happy V day everyone!
So what? You need a chatroom that makes it where you don't have to download anything? We can take over the Texas chatroom on Adult Friend Finder if you want (just tell them you're there with Lira, and they'll nod in understanding.)
ReplyDeleteSo, a chatroom without downloading a program such as yahoo, and offsite so you don't have to join anywhere.
You are so demanding! You better at least be pulling my hair for this!
See, I'm hopeless. I thought it was rather sexy and it turns out sweet, but in a good way I guess. Well, people wanted a scene from a guy and that's all I had on this machine. I guess this goes to prove the Field of Dreams theory.
ReplyDeleteYes, I'm the anon with the sweet scene, just took a couple minutes to get courage to own up to it. (And, it is a female POV, so you don't have to re-envision the scene because I'm a male author, though apparently I don't have enough experience licking stubble.)
I bet licking stubble is better than having to taste lipstick.
ReplyDeleteOh wait. I KNOW it's better, but we won't discuss that.
Hey, I'm into the stubble lick.
ReplyDeleteAh, there are several jokes to use here, but you all don't know me well enough for that. Or maybe it's you know me too well for that.
ReplyDeleteWell, I liked it, Paca, but really, beard brun is a bad thing. Everyone stares at you and no amount of makeup can hide it. You look like a toddler who crank a bunch of Kool-Aid but got it all over your chin too.
ReplyDeleteIf he has a longer beard it won't hurt though. About a week, week and a half worth of growth and it seems to soften up.
Sage advice from the great December! It's true, beards are much nicer.
ReplyDeleteOnce a girl showed up at the office with a chin burn and we joked that it was rug burn.
ReplyDeleteTrue, true, Dec. In my head it only lasted about 30 seconds anyway. I mean, that's plenty of foreplay, I'm sure we all agree.
ReplyDeleteEE must be lost.
ReplyDeleteShould we try the chat room thingy from the other post?
ReplyDelete