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Archive for 'Dreams'

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A Question…
Tuesday, July 28th, 2015

shatner and nimoy

Just woke up and it’s hard to be creative when all I want to do is crawl back under the covers. I was having this wonderful dream. A much younger William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy were at a convention, and I was one of the lucky fans selected to have dinner with them. I brought my camera with me to get photographic proof James T. Kirk was at my table, but every time I clicked a shot the picture was overexposed. What a nightmare! :)

So, that got me thinking. Frustrated fantasies have to be pretty common in Dream World. So do dreams about famous celebrities.

Can you remember one of yours? 

NyQuil Dreams
Saturday, August 16th, 2014

I have a head cold again. Never fails. If I travel, I get sick. I went to bed last night after taking NyQuil, woke up at nine, ate breakfast, and then back to bed I went. My body aches from resting so much, but the dreams have been amazing. Mostly half-naked, unconsummated scenes. Is it the NyQuil? If so, I need another bottle.

So, when I dream, I’m my pretty young self. Or I’m someone completely different. Sometimes, I’m even a man. And I dream in color. Usually lots of turquoise, sunny yellow,  tangerine orange and spring green. If I sweep into a house, the room has niches in the walls with statuary. The beds look like something out of Hansel and Gretel—big four-posters with thick duvets. A lot of my dreams are set beside the sea or on a boat. Of course, the boat never rocks, so I’m never queasy.

I have a dream dictionary I consult whenever I have a particularly vivid dream, but it falls short quite often. How would you interpret alabaster-skinned aliens without sexual organs falling naked from the sky? Or basement swimming pools where the steps descend into a lighted grotto?

I suppose I’ll have to stir from this chair and go get a shower. Maybe the last of the NyQuil haze will clear. If I press “publish” now, will I regret it later? :) What sort of dreams do you have?

Craziness and a winner!
Monday, August 15th, 2011

Last night, I dreamt John Wayne was my husband and that he was the captain of the U.S.S. Minnow. I’ll tell you a tail of sailing ship… Oh, and he was “grounded” from work for drinking and working in the control tower. Yeah, dreams don’t have to make sense, do they?

Only it kind of does given my odyssey yesterday. I almost got bumped from my flight, Philly to Atlanta, because Delta overbooked my one PM flight by five people. Hey, any other industry and that would be considered fraud! I did get on that flight and thought my troubles were over. Noooooo!

Our plane arrived late in Atlanta. Delta’s booking people told me they couldn’t confirm me for another flight until three the next day. I sat on standby for two more flights to Little Rock, then went begging an attendant to get me the hell out of the airport. “Fly me to Dallas, I’ll take a damn rental car home!” She took pity on me. At 7:20, I boarded a flight to Memphis. When I told the Red-Headed Hellion on the phone, she said, “Rental car? Pffft!” She drove the three and a half hours to pick me up. We got home about one AM.

Horror story over? Nah! My luggage didn’t come to Memphis. It flew to Little Rock and the airport closes at ten PM. So someone has to make another trip today to pick it up!

Anyway, I do have some fun stuff I brought back from the conference, pictures to share… Just not today. I do, however, have a winner!

The winner of the Fugly Ring Contest is…Tammy Ramey! 8) Tammy, congratulations! Be sure to email me with your snail mail address and I’ll get your huge sparkly into the mail for you!

Be back tomorrow for the start of a brand new contest!

Thursday, March 17th, 2011

Dreams are extremely important.
You can’t do it unless you imagine it.

~ George Lucas

Speaking of dreams, I had a doozy last night. And it feels familiar, like I’ve had it before.

I lived in a house in the very exclusive Dominion area in San Antonio, Texas. The house was huge with a pool just outside the door. I sat at a glass table eating breakfast and reading ads from the newspaper. Only these ads were “live” ads that talked and described the items on sale at a department store. I wondered aloud when they’d make ads interactive so I could ask useful questions like, “Would that TV fit in my entertainment system cabinet?” The Progressive woman looked up from her ad and said, “Well, have you measured the space?”

I have to put that in a book.

Yesterday, I got my butt in gear. I wrote nearly a chapter. All of it sex. And I really, really liked the sex I wrote. My hero’s a big dude with very commanding ways. *sigh* I’d like to finish the story today or tomorrow, but I can’t keep them in bed forever, so today’s likely to drag as I figure out what they’ll say to each other when they aren’t acting like bunnies.

Sunday Report Card–and Happy 4th!
Sunday, July 4th, 2010

First, I have to tell you about this dream I had last night. I dreamed I was a superhero. I still haven’t figured out what my superpower was, but I got a call on the bat phone to hightail it to a sleepy little Texas border town to take out The Black Widow. My sidekick went with me. He was tall, balding and had a pot belly. Yeah, we made quite a team, but for some reason that was part of our power. Everyone underestimated us.

The Black Widow and I were old archrivals and we recognized each other immediately when our glances met across a smoky cantina. (There was a little homoerotic tinge to this whole dream.) She looked like Natalie Whatshername from Sugarland. A tall, blonde, natural beauty, with whom I’m sure I would have wanted to be friends if she didn’t have a nasty habit of romancing a victim in a bar then sucking off his head. Not a sexual euphemism.

Anyway, we got into a huge battle where we threw tables and chairs at each other from across the room, then took the battle out into the street and demolished half the buildings there. Neither of us won an advantage, and when we got tired of beating on each other, we headed back to the cantina for a beer, my trusty sidekick complaining about his aching back all the while. When she rose to leave, she handed me her lighter and said, “Keep it. I’m quittin’ anyway.”

I smiled and thanked her, but as soon as she was out the door, I gingerly held up the lighter, walked out the back of the cantina, tossed it into the garbage bin and ducked to avoid the explosion. End of dream.

My report is very anticlimactic. And it looks very different from what I had planned last week, but unexpected things crept up all week. Not that I can talk about all of it just yet.

* I wrote class material for FFnP’s Logline, Premise, Query and Synopsis class which starts tomorrow.
* I spoke with my Berkley editor about edits she wants on the first Viking book, then received the file and started work on that.
* I received word that Four Sworn was accepted and is tentatively scheduled for release by Samhain in September.
* I wrote a synopsis for a Merry Kinkmas short story for Ellora’s Cave and shipped it to my editor, after conducting some rather thorough fetish research.
* I received some exciting news about a project for an epublisher, but can’t mention it yet.
* And I quick-plotted a short story for Cleis.

This week:
* I will plow through edits of Viking-1.
* I will complete planning for Viking-2 and start writing the sucker!
* I will begin work on my Cleis short story.
* And lastly, I hope to begin work on my next western for Samhain.

Have a Happy 4th! I’ll think about you while I’m here on the lake!

Sunday Report Card
Sunday, April 18th, 2010

Strangest dream last night. I moved into a very large house with many rooms, that were more like individual apartments because they had their own baths and kitchenettes. And the furnishings were very elaborate junkware. You know, like collections of foot-tall, ceramic teapots made in the likenesses of the Taj Mahal and Neuschwanstein castle. The rooms exploded with color—turqouise walls, enameled dressers and pianos. The floors looked like kiln-fired ceramic tile and were pieced together designs of rice patty or wheat fields. Anyway, I arrived with my daughter and mother, and we fought over which rooms we should take. Since I was doing the buying I argued that I should have first choice, and I wanted the room with the largest desk covered in Japanese black lacquer with insets of mother-of-pearl. I lost the argument, but didn’t mind so much, all the rooms were great. But then the convention-goers arrived. Seems Sasha White booked my house for a reader’s convention, so my house was overrun with readers scrambling to claim beds and breaking pottery left and right. That’s when I woke up.

Well, the big accomplishment was finishing Beloved Captor (that name’s likely to change). I wrapped up the revisions, which seemed to take forever, and sent it to my editor. Send a little prayer up that she likes it. After that, nada, zippo, zero! But I don’t care. I couldn’t sit because I’d been doing so much of that in the revisions. I attended my Arkansas RWA chapter meeting yesterday, and now I finally feel recharged enough to plunge back in.

So, if anyone out there wants to sprint with me this week—not the kind where you need running shoes, the kind where you write like a madwoman for 45-minute sprints—I’m so there.

Thanks to everyone who provided me input regarding what you want to see in the next installment of Bad Moon Rising. I will take a look at them all and come back with a poll for you to cast your final version vote.

And the winner of the gift certificate, by random number generator is…tamibates! Tami—email me with the email addy you want the certificate sent to!

Flashback: Alluring Tales 2
Monday, February 22nd, 2010

Be sure to post a comment today to be in the running
for a free signed copy of this book!

Did I mention that the Chantix worked and that I’ve been smoke-free for over a month now? Wish it were true for my dreams. Last night I had a nightmare. I found a cigarette on the ground, but didn’t have a lighter. The only thing I could find was a blowtorch, but I couldn’t get it close enough to my face to light the sucker. Gah!

Back to the book…

The Allure Authors are a group of my best writer friends. We produced two anthologies for Avon. This excerpt is from the second one, Alluring Tales 2: Hot Holiday Nights. This book was released in November 2008. My story, Indecent Exposure, is about a girl with a bad reputation for baring her assets in high school, who gets a second chance with her high school crush. Tell me whether you would have made the same choice as Harmony!


From the authors of the bestselling ALLURING TALES: AWAKEN THE FANTASY comes a new erotic romance anthology featuring seven super-sexy holiday-themed short stories. Together, the Allure Authors offer more than just steamy romances—they introduce readers to an erotic world full of limitless possibilities

The holidays are heating up — with seven wickedly sensual stories guaranteed to spice up those chilly winter nights!

A psychology student goes online hoping to live out her steamiest fantasy — and ends up on a hot mystery date with a wickedly imaginative stud who brings out her inner pole-dancer…

A determined lady comes home, burning for her girlhood crush — a sexy lawman who totes a big gun…

A creative ad man’s passion is aroused when he sees his buttoned-up coworker in a revealing new light — dressed in sizzling red satin on a giant billboard…

A professional dominatrix wishes upon a star, and her fantasy appears — an insatiable alpha male in biker boots who’s literally out of this world…

A tall, dark, handsome warlock finds himself obsessed with his “familiar” — a sleek and sexy cat-woman who turns out to be the purr-fect lover…

She was always hot for big brother’s best friend — and now her erotic dream is here in the taut and tempting flesh…

A pair of fugitive lovers finds themselves warm and toasty in a sultry Caribbean paradise — and ready for some red-hot fun in the sun…


Twelve years earlier…

Dalton McDonough, you don’t know it yet—hell, you don’t even know me—but one day your fine ass is gonna be mine!

A blush heated Harmony Wilkin’s cheeks at the crudeness of the thought, but there you had it. When it came to Dalton, all the rules she’d been taught about being a good girl flew out the window.

Lord, he was a temptation—an obsession she couldn’t shake. That she wasn’t alone in mooning over the handsome high school senior didn’t help one bit. There was something special about the strong curve of his jaw, the jut of his high cheekbones and the deep mysterious set of his brown eyes. Add those characteristics to the rest of the package—tall, lean frame and wavy dark hair—and every girl in a tri-county area between the age of five and ninety-five couldn’t help but sigh and wonder what it would be like to be the center of his undivided attention.

Only most girls didn’t do any more than that—sigh and wonder. Harmony, however, wasn’t the kind to leave matters to fate. Somehow, someday, Dalton would be hers. All she needed to move things along a little quicker was information. Being a studious sort, she’d decided that winning Dalton wasn’t any different than any other goal she’d achieved. She just needed to know more about him. Figure out his likes and dislikes.

Find the one thing that might spark his interest in her.

And studying up on Dalton meant she had to take a few risks, because what she needed to know couldn’t be found in any textbook or Cosmo magazine article. Which was why she was sneaking through the dark, risking her reputation and her parent’s trust. Then again, her parents probably wouldn’t care, they’d been shouting at each other so much lately.

Careful not to let the gate slam shut behind her, she crept silently into his backyard, skirting the flagstones surrounding the pool, keeping to the soft, manicured lawn to muffle her footfalls until she reached the French doors outside his bedroom.

Seeking the shadows hugging the side of his house, she hid behind the tall winterberry bush and peered inside. She brushed away the niggling guilt she felt for spying on the object of her affections. Suppressed the unease that any night now, someone would see her stealing out of her bedroom window. But a desperate longing filled Harmony with a sense of purpose that pretty much wiped out every lick o’ sense she’d inherited from her schoolteacher dad.

During the past week of her stealth campaign, she’d learned some pretty interesting things about the quiet, intensely private boy.

Like Dalton slept in the nude.
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