Nu ma mai mir acum ca mi s-a spus ca sunt varza la un post pe un blog pe care il gasesc interesant.Am indraznit sa-mi las si eu opinia-cu toate ca nu comentez decat foarte rar pe blogurile pe care intru;prefer sa nu las ‘urme’- dat fiind ca eram suficient de revoltata incat sa ies din anonimat.Eh…asta a fost…n-am mai dat curs altor ‘discutii’ si mi-am vazut de ale mele,promitandu-mi in mod solemn sa nu ma mai ‘bag’ unde nu-mi fierbe oala’.

Gasesc acum altceva si mai si!!

Dat fiind ca am promis ca nu mai comentez ,am tacut ,dar trebuie macar sa scriu despre asta pentru ca altfel o sa o iau razna definitiv.

Ménage à trois-Poate sunt invechita..poate nu am puterea de a intelege noile ‘curente sexuale’ ale acestei generatii/societati si totul are un curs firesc,desi nu prea sunt tentata sa cred asta.In fine…

Nu neg ca nu mi s-a propus asa ceva..deh,barbatii sunt uneori foarte stranii(ca sa nu spun altfel) in dorintele/fanteziile lor,insa nu am simtit nici cea mai mica curiozitate,ba chiar as putea spune ca mi s-a parut dubioasa ideea-ma gandeam sa cer consiliere psihologica pentru persoana in cauza -asa ca raspunsul a fost un ”NU” hotarat si irevocabil.La fel de bine nu pot afirma ca sunt de acord cu asa ceva(dar spre deosebire de homosexualitate,mi se pare totusi ceva mai bland) dar  nici nu judec.Fiecare sa-si traisca viata asa cum isi doreste atat timp cat societatea nu este afectata.Da,dar ce te faci cand se intampla asa ceva?

Cand nu mai afirma cu certitudine ca acest copil se va naste din iubire…ca el este pecetea pusa peste dragostea  a doua persoane ce s-au unit in tot,IN TOATE SIMTURILE,TOATE SENTIMENTELE…s-au ‘amestecat’….FEMEIE SI BARBAT.

Cand dintr-o fantezie sexuala a unor oameni fara discernamant,va veni pe lume un copil?

Eu una sunt speechless!!Sunt eu anormala intr-o lume normala?Sau invers?

I got my official release date for Kiss Across Time yesterday.  May 4, 2010.  Just under six months away.

I guess that’s the drawback for writing for a house series.  Everyone gets pooled together at the speed of the slowest common denominator.  I have a feeling I’ll have other titles coming out between now and then.

Anyway, I thought I’d celebrate by splurging with an excerpt, as they seem to be well received by everyone.

But first the blurb, of course!

Taylor Yates just got fired from her university for insisting that the 5^th Century British poet and playwright, Inigo Domhnall, existed. When she hears the poet’s lyrics in a death metal song, she engineers a meeting with the dark-eyed, dark-haired lead singer, Brody Gallagher. An unintended kiss sends them spinning back to the poet’s time, when Saxons were pillaging King Arthur’s Britain, and a warrior expects a proper farewell from his woman before he sets off for war.

Brody’s all for kissing her again.  More, he’d like her to try kissing his friend and lover, Veris, just to see what will happen.  His blond, tall, blue-eyed Saxon friend Veris.

_____________

Excerpt

The bathroom door opened and the singer stepped out, wrapping a silky-looking bathrobe around him. He halted when he saw her, his eyes narrowing.

“It was you,” he said flatly.

Her heart squeezed. It was him. Breandán. In the vision, dream, whatever it was that she’d had when this Brody had kissed her. Long hair and everything.

“You even have a scar on your chest,” she said and lifted her hand to touch, just under her own left breast. “Just like Breandán did.”

His eyes widened. “Jesus,” he breathed.

After a second or two he stirred. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you experienced what I did out there, then.”

She licked her lips. “That isn’t…usual, then?”

He gave a low laugh. “God no!” He lifted a hand to her face but hesitated just before he touched it. “May I?”

She appreciated his sensitivity. “Yes.”

His thumb stroked her cheekbone. “Your name is not really Toiréasa, is it?” His voice was low.

She shivered. He’d been there. He’d really been there with her.

“Taylor,” she said.

“I want to kiss you again, Taylor. I want to see what happens this time.”

She focused on his full lips and she remembered him sliding his cock into her. Even though it had been a dream or a vision, or whatever it had been, she recalled it like it had actually happened. She could feel it. Her clit throbbed.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Curiously, she believed him. She nodded.

His mouth touched hers hesitantly and she knew there was a pocket of fear in him too. Then his lips grew firmer, more demanding and his tongue thrust into her mouth. She forgot about visions and daydreams and simply enjoyed the kiss. Brody was a damn fine kisser and she hadn’t been kissed in a long, long time. She threw herself into the kiss, letting herself be seduced by its power. She pressed up against him, enjoying the pleasure of simply being held by a man, the scent of a man. She wound her arms about his neck and rubbed herself against him with a soft little moan.

He gasped and lifted his head up, looking at her. “No visions,” he said softly. “But both of us experienced it, the first time.”

“Yes,” she agreed. Then she realized that she was draped against him. Worse, his cock was beating between them, signaling his arousal in the most obvious way.

She tried to stand up but he held her still. “Wait,” he said. “There’s no rush, is there?” His hand was stroking the back of her thigh, making it quiver.

“I have to go home.” She tried to make it sound convincing. But she really wanted to stay right where she was and continue kissing him. She had no idea who he was. She didn’t even know his last name. But she already knew what his cock looked like and what it felt like to fuck him. And if the vision they had shared had any sort of truth in it, he had loved her once.

Before she had been fired two days ago, Taylor had been within half an inch of being a history professor. She hadn’t believed in past lives and all that sort of bullshit. But right now she was willing to grasp it in order to give herself enough justification just to fuck the brains out of this man because kissing him felt so damn good. But that wouldn’t make her feel any better tomorrow morning.

She bit her lip. “I can’t stay,” she said regretfully. “I would love to. I would. But that isn’t a good enough reason.”

Brody held up his hand. “Before you go,” he said. “Would you do me one small favor?”

She stepped away from him. “It depends.”

“I want you to kiss my friend. I want to see if it works on him.”

Taylor laughed. “Why on earth would it?” Then something in Brody’s expression registered on her. “Oh…he’s your lover, isn’t he?”

Brody lifted a brow.

“A very long-term lover,” Taylor concluded with growing wonder. She tilted her head to study him. “What is his name?”

“Most people call me Veris, because they can’t pronounce my real name.”

She whirled around to face the voice.

He was sitting on the arm of the chair where the suit jacket had been a few moments before. Blond hair, blue eyes, six foot two inches of self-assured, very broad-shouldered male.

“You!” She struggled for the name. “Dr. Gerhardsson. You consulted with me last week, about the Domhnall plays.”

“Jesus, you son of a bitch,” Brody said behind her. “You went and did it after all.”

Veris smiled. “I did.”

Brody brushed past Taylor and threw himself into the lounge chair. He looked at Taylor. “You’re a history professor?”

“I nearly was,” she said flatly.

“You don’t look like one,” Brody commented.

“Neither does he,” she said, pointing at Veris. He was wearing leather pants and a sleeveless white cotton overshirt that made the most of the tanned, rounded caps of his shoulders and the bunches of muscles of his arms. Veris crossed his arms over his chest, which just seemed to multiply the amount of tanned muscle on display. His blue eyes twinkled.

Brody seemed more than mildly pissed about Veris’ consultation, which had been utterly professional in nature. Dr. V. Gerhardsson had not indicated by so much as an inch that he even recognized that Taylor was a woman.

Even so, Taylor had been left feeling edgy and weak-kneed after the evening consultation and had fallen into bed and indulged in a rare session of masturbation that featured Gerhardsson and his blue eyes and broad shoulders and various parts of his magnificent anatomy, over and over again.

Brody glared at Veris now. “I can see now why you came home in such a muck-sweat that night…the seventeenth, right?”

Taylor jumped. That was the night.

Veris just shrugged a little. No pride lost there. “I have no objections to kissing the lady now, if that’s what you want.” He smiled a little but his eyes were dancing with merriment.

Brody glared for a moment longer, then gave up. Taylor knew he had tabled the argument for later. He sat forward on the seat and spoke to Veris. “I told you what happened during the concert. I want to see if it happens to you when you kiss Taylor, because of our bond. If it does, then we’re going to have to tell Taylor.”

Veris glanced at Taylor. “And that won’t have tipped her off at all,” he said.

“Like consulting her about the Domhnall plays won’t have?” Brody shot back.

Veris grimaced. “I see your point.” He got to his feet and walked toward her and Taylor knew that the equivalent of a nuclear explosion would have to go off before she would move from the spot.

Veris stopped in front of her. “May I?” he asked. He seemed to tower over her five-foot-six frame, even with her spiked boots.

She thought her knees would give out. “Yes,” she said, her voice hoarse.

He slid his hand around her waist and the other under her hair. This close, his blue eyes were mesmerizing and she could feel her heart thundering. It hurt as it slammed against her chest. She gripped Veris’ shirt almost convulsively, suddenly afraid.

“It’s all right,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers, his breath fanning her. “I have you.”

He kissed her.

_________

So…what do you think? 

]]> http://tealceagh.com/2009/11/25/mias-return-is-out/ Wed, 25 Nov 2009 18:48:30 +0000 Teal Ceagh http://tealceagh.com/2009/11/25/mias-return-is-out/

It’s out!  It’s out!

It’s finally out!

Of the three books in this series, Mia’s Return edges out slightly ahead of the pack as my favorite.  Not huge amounts, just by a nose.  The others have their elements that endear them to me, but overall, Mia has…symmetry.  Which is unusual, because most authors always struggle with the middle book of a trilogy because of the famous saggy middle syndrome.

The emotional intensity and conflict in this one just fell into place and went “click” and the book wrote itself.  So much so that I sweated for two days to bring it down under the word count limit.

But it’s out.

It’s out!

Click here to read more about it on my site.

Click here to buy it.  (awww, come on, I have to do this, I’m a poor author!)

It’s part of the book tour, but I only found out less than 48 hours ago that the date was confirmed, so I’ve barely managed to get it up onto the book tour page and the guest post written…but I’m there, and it’s there, and if you’re reading this, this post is there, too.

So…deep breath, everything fell into place as it should.

I’m over at Love Romance Passion today, kicking off the first date of my double-header book tour.  Come and chat, and be in the running to win a copy of Beth’s Acceptance, and impress the hell out of Love Romance Passion with how many people actually come and chat with me, as this is my first time there.

I got a great review from Amber over at AmberKatz Book Blog today.  I’ll be guesting there on Sunday to talk about Mia’s Return, but she reviewed Beth’s Acceptance — this was a bit of a bonus, as I gave her the book just so she could keep up with the series in general as they’re so tightly entwined.

“Beth’s acceptance is just the right read to heat you up on a cold Winters night! The heat radiates from the story from start to finish and the bits in between come close to bringing the reader to melt down in delight. I am not a huge fan of erotic stories but this one really got my pulse going and the storyline kept me intrigued enough to read till the end.

The paranormal elements were well thought out and I am interested to see what happens in the next two books in this series. Luckily I have them waiting for me and I am already feeling the pull to check out the sequel Mia’s Return.

The Destiny’s Trinities are technically only novella’s with their size of 100 pages but with the vampires and other creatures filling the pages who cares? These are just the right size to curl up with when you need a little time alone and a little excitement.”

Click here for the full review.

“Who the fuck is going to pay for my fucking television? Huh? You mother fuckers killed my television.” Yelled a glassy eyed Mexican man with a strong accent.
Hector had come home from a small factory on Chicago’s west side. His job was to make grinding wheels for machine shops. The owner hired illegal aliens to make the wheels for him in a basement of the factory. It was an ingenious scheme. It would have been like putting Anne Frank to work behind the refrigerator. OSHA people would have closed the factory down in a second if they knew what was going on in the
basement. The air swirled with silica that went into making the wheels. The foreman wore a device that looked like a World War I gas mask that had two little air vents around the mouth. All the workers used paper masks and they were issued two a week. Hector worked ten hours a day and made eight dollars an hour. Hector had come from an area of Mexico called Jalisco. Hector paid a man close to $8,000.00 to take him across at Tijuana. The men, who took his money, provided him with fake papers. From there, Hector took a bus to Chicago to live in a studio apartment with his cousin and four other
men. A studio apartment is nothing more than a room that serves as everything but a
bathroom.
Hector started a side project of doing handy man repairs on the side. Sylvia, a seventy year old Jewish woman, hired Hector to fix some small items in her apartment and before long, Hector was living with Sylvia. Hector was a short dumpy Aztec looking man with dark, ruddy complexion and black eyes. Hector hated the United States.
Hector saw an invisible wall that kept his people invisible. Nobody seemed to notice that at all the restaurants, car washes and front lawns in upper middle class areas around the country, functioned because of undocumented Hispanics, primarily Mexicans. Hector knew that as an undocumented, illegal alien, he had to settle for whatever job and money he could find.
The silica made him wheeze and his eyes tear. Hector often coughed but thought nothing of it. Hector had been watching El Salvador playing against Mexico. It was a tied game in the 78th minute when six firemen axed the door open and began smashing all the windows out. Hector grabbed the arm of one of the firemen and as the fireman struggled; his axe went right through the 70 inch, high definition television that Hector had just purchased. It cost Hector the equivalent of ten days of work. The fireman apologized and walked out. Hector found out later at work that El Salvador won the match.
Sylvia stood on the sidewalk, trying to calm Hector while holding her parakeets in

a small cage. Hector had just downed several shots of tequila and wolfed down a six

pack of Tecate. All he wanted to do was watch the match on television and fall asleep on

the couch.

Hector and Sylvia found a motel on Lincoln Avenue called the Rio Motel.
Hector was checking into the motel that doubled as a convenience store too. Behind the bullet proof glass were cigarettes, pop, condoms, pain relievers and so forth. The Indian proprietor looked at Hector, a Hispanic man in his mid thirties and the seventy year old Jewish woman holding two birds in a cage, while dressed in pyjamas, was
impressed with that. Ajesh the proprietor was used to seeing all kinds of outrageous things but felt that the odd couple were the most unique of the night. Just as they were settling up with Ajesh, a young black, homeless man came in.
“Yo man, I’m just coming back for my cigarettes… I was in here back before y’all started foh the night and left my cigarettes here on the counter… You kin look at the tapes, I was here bout foh clock…”
“I don’t know nothing about no cigarettes, bro… You better leave now,” said Ajesh.
Hector slipped Fifty dollars cash under the bullet proof glass and handed it to
Ajesh. An Indian musical played in the back ground on a small television. There was one woman dressed in a Sari with twenty men, dancing in unison with her in front of a palace. Everyone of the dancers, were good looking people and light skinned to the point of looking Anglo with a hint of Indian. They were dressed in yellow and orange. They were all smiling, fit and happy. Ajesh was heavy and very dark and looked unhappy. He had a great disdain for the patrons who frequented the motel he purchased from a Korean couple several years back. The patrons used it to use and sell drugs, they used it to have secret rendezvous and some used it for prostitution. Illegal aliens used the motel as their
only means of living since they were fearful that a background/credit check would reveal the fact that they were not living and working in the country legally. Hector lived with Sylvia and so he had an apartment to go where there would not be four men to a room. Sylvia had companionship. She had someone other than birds and a television for interaction. Even though Hector was surly, he did appreciate the old woman letting him live with her. The relationship was non sexual for the most part. There had been a few
occasions where the chemicals within Hector, built up and drove him to do something that he would not have done otherwise. This poor decision making was aided by Tequila. Sylvia actually liked it quite a bit. It had been years since she had sex with a man. That night, there would be no sex and very little talking. They were both disturbed by the fact that they were instantly displaced from their apartment due to the fire.
“Hey man, I just want my motha fucking cigarettes… Look on the motha fucking tapes if you don’t believe me,” said the black man, with even glossier eyes than Hector.
“If you don’t leave now, I vill call the police,” said Ajesh, sternly.
“Fuck you, you fucking A-rab mothah fucking, carpet riding, snaking charming motha fucker.”
Ajesh emerged from behind the bullet proof room with a good ole Louisville Slugger. It was a thirty two ounce bat, which is to say that it had some weight to it. It was supposedly signed by Bo Jackson, who once played baseball for the Chicago White Sox and football for the Oakland Raiders. Ajesh held the bat up as if he were playing Cricket, which he was once very good at back in India. Ajesh was not a small man and was not afraid of black men who tried to intimidate him. In fact Ajesh was secretly hoping that one of them would cross the line so that he could brain them with his bat and then tell the police that he was being threatened with death by some transient.
“Who’s the mother fucker now? Mother fucker… Try some stupid shit, bro. I vill charm your fucking snake…”

With that, the transient man walked off and Hector and Sylvia went up to their
room. The room was musty as if mold was growing somewhere and the toilet smelled of urine like an outhouse. The bed had nothing but sheets on it and every spring on the bed
could be felt. Hector turned on the television to find two Indian men having sex with an Indian woman in a garden while sitar music played softly behind her feigned moans. Sylvia fell asleep talking to her birds, Hector fell asleep watching the Indian manage a trois. They too were good looking Indian people, this time with their clothes off.

“Who the fuck is going to pay for my fucking television? Huh? You mother fuckers killed my television.” Yelled a glassy eyed Mexican man with a strong accent.
Hector had come home from a small factory on Chicago’s west side. His job was to make grinding wheels for machine shops. The owner hired illegal aliens to make the wheels for him in a basement of the factory. It was an ingenious scheme. It would have been like putting Anne Frank to work behind the refrigerator. OSHA people would have closed the factory down in a second if they knew what was going on in the
basement. The air swirled with silica that went into making the wheels. The foreman wore a device that looked like a World War I gas mask that had two little air vents around the mouth. All the workers used paper masks and they were issued two a week. Hector worked ten hours a day and made eight dollars an hour. Hector had come from an area of Mexico called Jalisco. Hector paid a man close to $8,000.00 to take him across at Tijuana. The men, who took his money, provided him with fake papers. From there, Hector took a bus to Chicago to live in a studio apartment with his cousin and four other
men. A studio apartment is nothing more than a room that serves as everything but a
bathroom.
Hector started a side project of doing handy man repairs on the side. Sylvia, a seventy year old Jewish woman, hired Hector to fix some small items in her apartment and before long, Hector was living with Sylvia. Hector was a short dumpy Aztec looking man with dark, ruddy complexion and black eyes. Hector hated the United States.
Hector saw an invisible wall that kept his people invisible. Nobody seemed to notice that at all the restaurants, car washes and front lawns in upper middle class areas around the country, functioned because of undocumented Hispanics, primarily Mexicans. Hector knew that as an undocumented, illegal alien, he had to settle for whatever job and money he could find.
The silica made him wheeze and his eyes tear. Hector often coughed but thought nothing of it. Hector had been watching El Salvador playing against Mexico. It was a tied game in the 78th minute when six firemen axed the door open and began smashing all the windows out. Hector grabbed the arm of one of the firemen and as the fireman struggled; his axe went right through the 70 inch, high definition television that Hector had just purchased. It cost Hector the equivalent of ten days of work. The fireman apologized and walked out. Hector found out later at work that El Salvador won the match.
Sylvia stood on the sidewalk, trying to calm Hector while holding her parakeets in

a small cage. Hector had just downed several shots of tequila and wolfed down a six

pack of Tecate. All he wanted to do was watch the match on television and fall asleep on

the couch.

Hector and Sylvia found a motel on Lincoln Avenue called the Rio Motel.
Hector was checking into the motel that doubled as a convenience store too. Behind the bullet proof glass were cigarettes, pop, condoms, pain relievers and so forth. The Indian proprietor looked at Hector, a Hispanic man in his mid thirties and the seventy year old Jewish woman holding two birds in a cage, while dressed in pyjamas, was
impressed with that. Ajesh the proprietor was used to seeing all kinds of outrageous things but felt that the odd couple were the most unique of the night. Just as they were settling up with Ajesh, a young black, homeless man came in.
“Yo man, I’m just coming back for my cigarettes… I was in here back before y’all started foh the night and left my cigarettes here on the counter… You kin look at the tapes, I was here bout foh clock…”
“I don’t know nothing about no cigarettes, bro… You better leave now,” said Ajesh.
Hector slipped Fifty dollars cash under the bullet proof glass and handed it to
Ajesh. An Indian musical played in the back ground on a small television. There was one woman dressed in a Sari with twenty men, dancing in unison with her in front of a palace. Everyone of the dancers, were good looking people and light skinned to the point of looking Anglo with a hint of Indian. They were dressed in yellow and orange. They were all smiling, fit and happy. Ajesh was heavy and very dark and looked unhappy. He had a great disdain for the patrons who frequented the motel he purchased from a Korean couple several years back. The patrons used it to use and sell drugs, they used it to have secret rendezvous and some used it for prostitution. Illegal aliens used the motel as their
only means of living since they were fearful that a background/credit check would reveal the fact that they were not living and working in the country legally. Hector lived with Sylvia and so he had an apartment to go where there would not be four men to a room. Sylvia had companionship. She had someone other than birds and a television for interaction. Even though Hector was surly, he did appreciate the old woman letting him live with her. The relationship was non sexual for the most part. There had been a few
occasions where the chemicals within Hector, built up and drove him to do something that he would not have done otherwise. This poor decision making was aided by Tequila. Sylvia actually liked it quite a bit. It had been years since she had sex with a man. That night, there would be no sex and very little talking. They were both disturbed by the fact that they were instantly displaced from their apartment due to the fire.
“Hey man, I just want my motha fucking cigarettes… Look on the motha fucking tapes if you don’t believe me,” said the black man, with even glossier eyes than Hector.
“If you don’t leave now, I vill call the police,” said Ajesh, sternly.
“Fuck you, you fucking A-rab mothah fucking, carpet riding, snaking charming motha fucker.”
Ajesh emerged from behind the bullet proof room with a good ole Louisville Slugger. It was a thirty two ounce bat, which is to say that it had some weight to it. It was supposedly signed by Bo Jackson, who once played baseball for the Chicago White Sox and football for the Oakland Raiders. Ajesh held the bat up as if he were playing Cricket, which he was once very good at back in India. Ajesh was not a small man and was not afraid of black men who tried to intimidate him. In fact Ajesh was secretly hoping that one of them would cross the line so that he could brain them with his bat and then tell the police that he was being threatened with death by some transient.
“Who’s the mother fucker now? Mother fucker… Try some stupid shit, bro. I vill charm your fucking snake…”

With that, the transient man walked off and Hector and Sylvia went up to their
room. The room was musty as if mold was growing somewhere and the toilet smelled of urine like an outhouse. The bed had nothing but sheets on it and every spring on the bed
could be felt. Hector turned on the television to find two Indian men having sex with an Indian woman in a garden while sitar music played softly behind her feigned moans. Sylvia fell asleep talking to her birds, Hector fell asleep watching the Indian manage a trois. They too were good looking Indian people, this time with their clothes off.

Polyamory is something that has been close to my heart for about 12 years now, when I first fell in love with my good female friend in my late 20’s. My husband ended up falling in love with her too. I ‘googled’ ‘menage a trois’ furiously back then trying to figure out wth was going on with me, as I had no notion of polyamory. And it started much study and exploration of the concept in thought and irl. We no longer see our friend, although we keep in touch.  It took about 10 years of emotional and physical coming and going (most going–haha no pun intended!) to find closure with that relationship.  Our marriage is in a mellow phase now, without too much going on, and I’ve gotten pretty used to waiting patiently now, as being poly for us, has for the most part, been our normal life just punctuated by brief exciting encounters. 

That’s pretty much how it’s fallen out over the years: Phases in Poly or Open Experiences. We haven’t lived together with others, we haven’t raised children together, and, no, although I love to joke about it, all 5 of my kids ARE my husbands. I think the commune poly ideal is more the stuff of NF idealism or something that happens in big cities. I know of many swingers (who are somewhat open) and a couple friends who have open marriages, and we all dream about it more than it really plays out in reality. Some claim to have an ‘open’ relationship–those in college who are dating, for example, but it is far different than being in a committed monogamous relationship, where you’ve thrown the key away, and are in it for the long haul, til death do you part………..

I think polyamory CAN get gluttonous if you are more in it for the sex……….It can be addicting. ***euphoric recall*** like anything else you do to excess that feels so good. I’m not just talking about having sex, although that’s usually an inevitable fall-out from liking/loving and becoming closer to someone(s).

I’m rambling because there are so many nuances to it. It is far easier to be poly if you know you are poly from the beginning and can find a poly partner to pursue a poly lifestyle with. It is hard to be poly after you are involved with someone, and when you are the opposite personality type as your partner, because you process and judge information so differently, and communication can be so difficult anyway, made more difficult the more people you add to the mix. It is so hard to communicate with your s.o. sometimes, much less agree on who you each want to see more, or how that is going to look.

And I think in writing this, I’ve turned away somewhat from the ideal of being poly to being more just sexually open and emotionally available to having other ‘friends.’ There is something too intense and recoiling about actually living poly (i’ve had snippits) for us, as we’ve been on this path. Perhaps it is due to our introverted personalities; I just don’t want someone else in my life that often or that deeply on a daily basis. (infj/istp marriage here)

I prefer 3somes. I am so lucky, because my husband and I have a special and wonderful relationship. So I prefer the tightness and closeness I feel with my husband when we are with someone else.  My ideal is to have a guy friend with whom I can trust and be sexual with and can hang out with occasionally, and a girl too.  My husband is straight so he and the guy would be friends.  Not just a guy or girl to see when we wanna have sex, but to actually have some sort of fond relationship with; someone(s) who we can share our happy life with and to grow in new ways. With life distractions it is hard to meet people who can fit in this, but we are always open to it if it crosses our path.

Being poly with couples is harder just because you get so many more relationships and schedules involved. And the relationships might not be as healthy as yours. 4 people means 12 relationships going on!! You can imagine how hard that is to manage.

But the sex is way more phenomenal when you are open. And you don’t even have to be open physically necessarily. Just being able to share with many others (if you are single) and your s.o. (if you have a primary partner) about your attractions and real fantasies goes such a long way in the sex between the two of you. And knowing that you really would/could be physical is extra hot. After we’ve simply been out/been around others we have the hottest (and for me, most orgasmic) sex. It’s always a work in progess. I never feel like we arrive. I feel my learning in being poly is like always just messing up or making poor judgments, getting burned, and trying to not repeat said action. I’d like to arrive in it. But I haven’t yet.

In the morning, my husband and I slept in peaceful slumber until after the sun was well up, ignoring the loud childrens’ play in the house as best we could.  Finally, I rolled toward him and whispered in his ear, “Guess what I did last night.”  He said, “What?”  and his eyes opened further as his interest was piqued.  “Sheila and I were together,” I snuzzled in his ear.  I continued to tell him details as best I could, in a slightly reticent fashion because part of me was still on high alert that he would be mad.  He made a sort-of moaning sound and I saw the covers move slightly.  I had no idea what he was doing at first.  Then the breath escaped his mouth and I knew he had come upon hearing my news.  That fast.  Wow.  He really was turned on by the idea of my friend and me being together.

However, as the erotic moment waned away, and the morning wore on, he became increasingly upset.  He was hurt that I had done something without telling him, without warning him, without asking his permission.  I understood and felt horrible about my misdeed; the memory of it now reduced to a guilt-inciting torment rather than the sweet thought that it was.  He was unapproachable.  Angry.  Cold.  Acted like a victim.   He had always been the jealous type, so this just made him worse.  Not able to handle discontent in those whom I love, I was miserable and offered up apologies galore, but they all fell on deaf ears.  

The hardest part lasted for days.  We were both forlorn and sad, but I was also secretly going through withdrawals from my friend.  I pretty much had to leave off talking to her or my husband would get mad.  I had to sacrifice my friend to save my hurt marriage.  I was starting to yearn to be with her again.  I not only missed her friendship but I missed that extra nuance of something that now existed between us, that heavy attraction–that energy– was the tension I had been feeling, but not understanding.  Conflicted and confused, I felt like a prisoner.  I had just discovered this treasure trove within myself, that I could like a woman as a lover, yet I could not touch it or it would hurt the most important person in my life, and potentially my beautiful family.

One day soon thereafter, I followed him into the shower and appealed to the shower curtain in the sincerest way I could and with as much honesty my guilty conscience would allow that, like it or not, I think that I am now bisexual.  Isn’t that what it’s called when you want to be with men and women?  I was so sorry to do this to him, to us, but I couldn’t change who I was.  What did he want me to do about it?  I could ignore it, repress it.  I didn’t have to act on it.  But in all honesty, I told him while he bathed, I really liked it, and I wanted more.

He heard me but said it just wasn’t what he wanted in his life or in his marriage, end of story.  I didn’t want to rock the boat, so I said as little as possible about my transgression and the underlying change within me.  It wasn’t long before he was okay with sheila and I talking to each other on the phone again, and we were gradually allowed to see each other again.  By this time I was wanting her so badly I couldn’t stand it.  So, on one of those long car drives together it was inevitable that our hands found each other’s thighs, and the seductive looks passed between our eyes.  I went to her house any chance I got while my husband was at work.  I felt horribly guilty, but I couldn’t help what I was doing.  I was moved about by some unseen devil who was pulling my strings.  Normally a faithful and honest person, I did not recognize this new woman who schemed and planned to get a few minutes alone with her new lover.  

Our clandestine relationship only lasted two weeks.  I knew the end was near when sheila and I had a mishap that would have exposed us if not for a little luck and ingenuity.  But the writing was on the wall; the Universe was saying our time was running out.  Upon meeting up, we drove to the river to park and make out.  Mindful of the ever oppressive Time, we frantically got it on in the front seat of my subaru.  making out was a little more familiar now, but we didn’t have much time.  I pulled sheila’s pants down to her ankles and peeled her panties down to reveal her ever-sopping-wet pussy which I dove into.  Since we left the radio running (duh!) the car battery ran down.  After we hurriedly dressed, I tried to start the car, already feeling way too late, and working up the lies to explain what had taken so long (did I think my husband was a dunce?), and the battery was dead!  Oh Shit.  No one was around to help us.  The worst vision overcame me that I would have to call him to come and jump the car and catch us red-handed in our obvious deception.  But as luck would have it, we were near a hill.  So sheila pushed the car while I popped the clutch, and we were rolling out of our little lying rendezvous.

I can’t remember how he finally found out about us.  I think he just got suspicious of my behavior and knew I was hiding something.  I never have lied or cheated since that two week episode.  I am not proud of having deceived him, but I accept that I did the best I could at the time with the overwhelming changes taking place in me.

My husband was very angry and hurt about my deception.  He and I began marriage counseling because his anger and withdrawal were just more than I, or he, could bear.  It worked well, even though the therapist did not support us in our lifestyle choices, but he and I started seriously dialoguing about polyamory around this time.  He liked sheila and had been thinking about becoming a part of this thing going on with us.  I found the thought of them together taboo and erotic at the same time.  Being the generous person that I am, I encouraged him to become involved.  I knew a menage a trois would be insanely intense with two people whom I cared so much for.  

She was open to the idea, being the sexy girl that she was, and admitted, giggling and guilty, that she found my husband attractive.  So we met up at her house.  ha ha.  It is so funny to remember that first 3some!  I don’t remember details but the feeling surrounding it all was this halting, embarrassed, fast, tense experience that we didn’t get a whole lot out of, except the desire to try again.  Sheila started liking my husband more after that.  

One of the most amazing discoveries I made about myself besides learning that I could love a woman as well as a man, was that i could love more than one person at a time.  Having been a helpless romantic from my preteen years when I voraciously read Harlequin romances and every Zane Grey published, I bought in to the notion that there was one perfect person for everyone, and once you found that person, all would be goodness and light in your life.  Forever.  So, realizing I could not only love a woman, but love two people at the same time [or more?!]–made for a very intense time of exponential growth for me.  And we began to try to live polyamory.

If things had been going well for me in 2001, why then they couldn’t have been better for my friend Jean. His flagship, The Zoo, was making a killing on magic mushrooms, paraphernalia, and sliver accessories, and the money that poured in from the shops funded further expansions in both his retail and wholesale businesses and gave him the room to embark on new ventures.

In early September just as he was turning forty, he finally found a building that suited his needs in Yakuin and leased the whole damn thing, opening a new boutique for young women called Le Fétiche on the first floor, housing his office on the fourth, and using the two floors in between as a warehouse.

It was a bold move, but then everything Jean was doing at the time was bold, if not audacious. He acted no differently when it came to his relationship with Nori, the lovely Amazonian he had met half a year earlier.

Nori would have had any other man eating out of her hand, but not Jean.

“That friend of yours has some nerve,” Nori said to me one evening in mid September. The two of us were having drinks at stylish bar called Neon, waiting for Jean to arrive.

“What’d he do this time?” I said, taking a nip of my cocktail.

“He had another woman at this flat is what!”

“Am I supposed to be surprised by that?”

“No, but . . . “

Jean had quite a few potted cactuses, giant prickly things, throughout his apartment. It was a message, he had told me with a wink, to the women who came back to his place: “He might look cool, but you don’ wanna get too close.”

“But what?” I asked Nori.

“Listen, listen,” she said animatedly. “When I found out he was with another woman, I went straight over to his flat to give him a piece of my mind and, and, and he chewed me out! He’s with another woman and he bawls me out. Can you believe that?”

Just then Jean arrived, and, giving his Amazonian a big kiss on the cheek, sat down between us.

“What are you two talking about?” Jean asked.

“The other night,” Nori replied, getting up and heading for the restroom.

“She told you?” he asked me once Nori was gone.

“Yeah.”

“Astonishing,” he said shaking his head. “That woman is astonishing.”

I could be wrong, but I think that may have been the moment at which Jean started to fall in love with Nori.

“She didn’t tell you everything, did she?” Jean said, looking back towards the restroom.

“Everything?”

“I was with the Chinese bitch when she came over.”

“I figured as much,” I said. “She said you chewed her out.”

“Of course, I did. She’s lucky I didn’t slap her, too, the way she started to carry on. What are you drinking?”

“Cynar and soda,” I said, letting my friend have a sip.

“Not bad,” he said and ordered the same.

Let me tell you, ask any Japanese woman what kind of man she’d like to marry, and, nine times out of ten, she’ll answer, “someone gentle and kind”. But, mark my words; show a woman kindness, generosity, patience, and she’ll run you into the ground with selfish demands and pettiness only to leave in the end you for a drunken lout who slaps her around when he’s not frittering away his salary at a pachinko parlor.

When Nori returned from the restroom, she was smiling broadly.

“That reminds me,” I said, hopping off the barstool. “My turn to recharge the ol’ batteries.”

As I was taking a couple hits meth in the restroom I could hear that piercing laugh of Nori’s that always sounded like glass shattering. I had to shake my head, too. Jean was right: the woman was astonishing, one of kind.

Not until a year later would I learn that I didn’t know the half of it when it came to what had happened that night at Jean’s apartment. After the two had cooled down, Nori made a demand that intrigued her boyfriend enough to through the door wide open and let her in: Nori wanted to know what it was the Chinese woman did for Jean that she herself couldn’t do better. And so, Nori stepped into his apartment and out of her clothes, and Jean enjoyed the first of many ménage à trois. Three’s company too, indeed.

Later, as I was drinking a Pernod and Pampelmuse on the rocks, a customer sitting a few seats away from me looked up from his cell phone and announced that a small plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center.

“Must be an accident,” I said to Jean.

Not fifteen minutes later a news flash appeared on the screens of everyone’s cell phone saying that another plane had crashed into the south tower.

“Accident, my arse! This is a terrorist attack,” I said, dropping a handful of bills on the counter and telling the bartender to keep the change.

I bid Jean and Nori a quick good-bye, and scrambled out the door. Once home, I would spend the next fourteen hours, on the edge of my seat, eyes glued to the television set, watching the Twin Towers burn, people jump to their deaths, and then, at midnight on September twelfth, the first tower came tumbling down.

Needless to say, I did not need drugs to stay awake that night.

注意：この作品はフィクションです。登場人物、団体等、実在のモノとは一切関係ありません。

© Aonghas Crowe, 2009

The November newsletter has gone out.  Have you subscribed yet?  This month’s contest prize is a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate and a copy of Mia’s Return.  Not that I’m trying to bribe you or anything.  I don’t do things like that.    But you can only enter if you’re a subscriber.

The newsletter is also a handy way of being reminded of dates coming up for the month ahead, and other nice features like eye candy, which I’ll be introducing next month.

Send me an email and I’ll sign you up.  Painless and fun, promise.

With thanks to Cathy M, a reader who alerted me to the fact, I found out yesterday that The Romance Studio gave Beth’s Acceptance a glorious 5 star review.  It’s wonderfull, full of pithy pull-quotes and phrases you just want to staple up all over the place.

On top of that, apparently, the review and the book are being voted on for…and I’m quoting: “the TRS 5 Heart Sweetheart review of the week selection”.

I’m still trying to find out what that is, exactly.  But apparently readers get to vote on it, and Cathy M already has.

Anyway, here’s all the shivery good stuff from the review itself:

“Ms. Ceagh has created a dark and delightfully erotic new series that sizzles in passionand crackles in danger, delivering suspense with an edge that will have readers eager for more. Beth’s Acceptance intertwines adventure and paranormal elements surrounded by a considerable depth of emotion and laced with a constantly increasing level of fire and sensuality that makes for a stunning story. The touches of humor the author adds to the plot and characters works wonderfully to lighten the mood and capture the reader’s heart just a little more. This talented author vividly uses descriptive details allowing the reader to easily call up the images as if they were watching a movie.

Beth, Luke, and Zachariah are wonderfully drawn, empathetic characters that are all from different worlds they are intriguing, honorable, intelligent, and deeply emotional. The plot magically seems to walk the reader through the bond these three must create in order to become a true trinity making the connection feel like a natural and deeply emotional one. The sexual escapades are a feast full of scorching hot pleasure, tender touches, daring and edgy play that will have the reader wickedly hooked to the pages. Warning — the ménage scenes do include M/M scenes but they are shown as a necessary part of the three-way bond.

Prepare to be dazzled by Beth’s Acceptance the first book in this explosive new series!”

_____

I’m sorry, I know after the last few weeks that I’m supposed to have learned that reviews are for readers, but it’s hard not to grin like the Cheshire Cat after reading that, and do Sally Fields all over again.  “You like me!  You really like me!”

Here’s where you’ll find the review in full.

Be Careful What You Wish For…

When the original release date for Sera’s Gift was announced, I remember thinking, and even saying wistfully that it was a pity the release date wasn’t in December, because that would make the release dates for the three Destiny books a very symmetrical October-November-December,which appeals to my geeky anal sense of order.  Instead, the dates were — at that time, October – November – January.  Although, if you really sat there with a calendar and looked at the weeks apart, they were spread quite nicely.

So I’ve been working on setting up a virtual blog tour for Mia’s Return, and getting things rolling along, and just a few moment’s ago, heard from my editor.

They’ve changed the release date for Sera’s Gift.

December 9.

Eleven days after the release of Mia’s Return.   I’m barely going to have time to draw breath after the release Mia and I’m going to roll right back into the insanity of another book release.  Fun and games, baby!  Fun and games!  Who said the life of an author who wasn’t on the New York Times Best Seller List was boring?

Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbanas creativity is the foundation of the new D&G Time commercial, with the direction of Cyrill Guyot. A luxurious period apartment in Paris is the set for a malicious mademoiselle who abandons herself to provocative games, ending in an upper-class ménage a trois. The risqué situation is interrupted by her rigorous mother, shocked at the sight of such an impudent display. Music by: “The Sparks”

MUSIC.MAGAZINES.

MEET ME HALFWAY

Black Eyed Peas performed several of their hits off of their album “The E.N.D” yesterday on SNL. Peep the performance of “Meet Me Halfway” above, which is currently the No.1 song in the UK!

M is for MIAMI, b***h

Eva Longoria Parker graces the cover of the November issue of MIAMI magazine, looking b-e-a-utiful.

magazine

MISTER Ed Westwick in the December issue of UK Vogue

Below = snaps, taken by Annie Leibovitz for the US Vogue, of Lady Gaga. Featuring (from what I can see) Lily Cole…

M is for….

MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS

I loved this song last year, and pretty much a YEAR later, everyone is talking about the Welsh singer/songwriter Marina Diamandis. Her debut album, Family Jewels, is set to drop early next year.

I prefer “Obsessions”, but <3 this video for “Mowgli’s  Road”

…………………..

M = Miranda Kerr

On the cover (and in) Harper’s Bazaar Australia, December 2009

One of my personal “M” favourites.

Ménage à trois

I

Penélope Cruz

M is for MOVIE…..

but, this post could go on all day, so part 2 of “M is for…” will be saved for another time.

For now, peace and have a marvellous

MONDAY

]]> http://tealceagh.com/2009/11/14/excerpt-from-destiny%e2%80%99s-trinities-iii-%e2%80%93-sera%e2%80%99s-gift/ Sat, 14 Nov 2009 12:46:11 +0000 Teal Ceagh http://tealceagh.com/2009/11/14/excerpt-from-destiny%e2%80%99s-trinities-iii-%e2%80%93-sera%e2%80%99s-gift/

It was pointed out that an excerpt for Sera’s Gift would be nice, and as it will be a while before the book will even show up on the upcoming pages at Ellora’s Cave, I thought I’d slip an excerpt onto the blog here…and maybe another one in a few weeks time.

But first the proper set up, to save you having to go look for it.

_________

Sera arrives in New York to help Lindál, but a vampeen attack brings her face to face with two men and changes her life forever.

Diego Savage lives up to his name.  Cynical, rebellious and a womanizer, he doesn’t believe in the trinities at all. Only a handful of people know the truth about his scarred heart and terrible past, and it would take a miracle for him to change.  A miracle, or someone like Sera with her special gift.

Blake Harvey, dedicated NYC police lieutenant, takes one look at the tall, supple woman with the crystal blue eyes and glowing skin and knows his life is about to change in ways he can’t even define, but his body is already responding to with a power that is hard to deny.

The bonding has begun…

____________

An Excerpt From: SERA’S GIFT

Copyright © TEAL CEAGH, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

Fair warning….this is absolutely R-rated, boys and girls.  If you don’t like it crisping the pages and kinking the corners, do not read on and don’t complain afterwards if you do.

Beth crept onto the roof just as dawn was breaking. In two years, she had grown far better at sneaking around. Despite her skill, she found she was staring at the sharp end of a crossbow as she emerged onto the open end of the roof and behind it, a pair of cool blue eyes. She let go of her knife and held up her hand. “It’s just me,” she said.

Lindál put down the crossbow. “Thought so,” he said sleepily and lay back down. He patted the quilt he had spread out on the tarred roof. “Join me.” He was wearing sweatpants so old they were nearly transparent with wear and washing and made him look endearingly human…especially as she could see a hint of his tight ass.

“What are you doing up here?” she asked.

“I couldn’t sleep. I needed fresh air.”

“In New York? There’s no such thing, especially in August.” She lay next to him on the quilt and put her knife down beside her. She plucked her nightgown away from her sweaty skin.

“You couldn’t sleep either,” Lindál guessed. He glanced at her, his blue eyes narrowing. “The full assembly today. You feel you have to account for yourself, don’t you?”

The Seaveth Prophecies had predicted the coming of the Grimoré and they had indeed arrived. She and the two trinities that had formed, along with the vampires and elves, had spent nearly two years now fighting Grimoré incursions into the human population, while trying to keep humans ignorant of the Grimoré, vampires, elves and the demon world the Grimoré regularly recruited to do their dirty work.

Beth had insisted that a third trinity would form and that the formation of three trinities would spell the doom of the Grimoré. But so far, the final trinity had shown no sign of appearing. It had been over a year since the formation of the second trinity and everyone’s faith in her belief in the power of the three trinities was beginning to wane as they took heavy losses and the power of the Grimoré steadily ground them down.

Lindál was watching her, measuring her expressions as she thought it through. “You owe no explanation, Seaveth,” he said quietly, using her formal name to remind her of her rank. Queen of the trinities and therefore commander of the armies of vampires and elves. “The prophecies were made eons ago. No one, not even you, can build a timetable around them.”

She slid her hand into his blond locks, tucking them back behind his ears and kissed him. “What would I do without you, Lindál?”

His blue eyes grew stormy and she caught her breath, for she knew that look from long experience. Her clit tingled.

“Without me,” Lindál murmured, his long fingers brushing over the thin straps of her nightgown, sliding them off her shoulders, “I imagine you’d still be serving beer in McGinty’s, with that vampire pining uselessly after you and never the courage to touch you.”

He flipped her on her back and straddled her and she caught her breath. “Oooh, you know Zack would have a piece of you if he heard you say that.”

Lindál gave a wicked smile. “But he’s not here and I am.” He reached over her head and picked up her knife and spun it on his palm like the hands on a clock face. It was an absent-minded movement of a man much used to handling a knife.

“You didn’t have the guts to touch me either, Lindál,” she reminded him and sucked in a breath as he used the knife blade to shred her gown right down the centre and spread it apart. He jabbed the knife into the tarmac by her head.

“But now I do,” he said and sucked the tip of her breast into his hot mouth. She grabbed at his head as silvery sparks of explosive pleasure ripped through her, straight to her already throbbing clitoris. Her pussy rippled, squeezing cream and preparing for him. What he was doing to her breast was such a wonderful sensation she would never tire of it. Her breath shortened.

She wound her leg over Lindál’s back, her heel pressing into his ass. It opened her up to him and she could feel the slickness between her legs, bathed by the air.

Lindál’s lips moved to her other breast and she moaned, her hips lifting. “Fuck me,” she begged. “Make me come. You know how hot what you’re doing makes me.”

“I know,” he agreed, his lips brushing against her breast. She could hear the laughter in his voice and the arousal. One of Lindál’s personal aphrodisiacs was the sight of her squirming with need.

He kept his attention on her breasts, his hands toying with them when his mouth was not. She really did begin to writhe on the quilt beneath him, her hips bucking under his thighs. She panted and moaned and tugged at his hips, trying to make him fuck her.

Finally, when she thought she could not stand it another second, Lindál stood and quickly stripped his sweats off. She lay panting on the quilt, her body gleaming with a fine sheen of perspiration, her heart racing, watching. He was as glorious as the day she had met him. His skin had the unearthly elvish glow, still undimmed despite his exposure to the earth sun and elements, that so often stopped people in their tracks and made them remark about “good health”. His muscles were even more well formed, now, after two years of hard work and better training. And his cock was long and hard and ready for her.

“My Beth,” he murmured, before spreading her legs, picking up her hips and ramming himself into her with a single thrust that made the tendons on the side of his neck stand out. She gave a groan of deep satisfaction. Good…oh, that was so good.

Lindál wrapped her legs around his waist and bent over her, one hand under her hips and began the slow, steady stroking she loved best. It wouldn’t last long. She could already feel her body gathering around his cock in a trembling pillar. Her breathing would stop if she didn’t come very soon. Lindál had spared her nothing.

Over his shoulder, she saw movement and her eyes widened. Alarmed, she tried to reach for the knife Lindál had put within her reach but Lindál was quicker. He snatched for the crossbow.

But Zack was quicker, still. His bare foot came down on the crossbow, keeping it pinned to the tarmac. “There’s a reason your instincts didn’t warn you, Lindál,” he said softly. His hand came down on Lindál’s shoulder. “I thought you two were sleeping, until I found you weren’t.”

Lindál smiled. “Too hot.” He nuzzled Beth’s breast and thrust into her again. She caught her breath and clutched at his shoulders desperately. Even so, she found she was watching Zack. He was studying them, the crotch of his jeans swelling and that made it even more thrilling.

Quickly, Zack stripped off his clothes and strode over to stand behind Lindál, watching his cock thrust into Beth. He caught Beth’s eye. “You’ve no idea how hot that looks from here, Beth. I could come just thinking about it.” His voice was thick with lust and his cock was red and flared purple at the head.

She moaned, her climax inching closer.

Zack bent and reached between her legs. She felt his hand stroke against her and Lindál, gathering moisture. Lubricant. God knew, there was enough of it.

Zack coated his own cock with her lubricant and she caught her breath, knowing what he intended. Her pussy clenched, making Lindál groan in reaction. Zack positioned himself behind Lindál and pushed his cock up against Lindál’s anus. He grabbed a handful of Lindál’s hair and slid his cock into the elf’s ass, as Lindál pushed back, his eyes closing.

“What’s good for the gander…” Zack breathed and began to rock in and out of Lindál’s ass, in counter-time with Lindál’s thrusts into Beth’s pussy.

The pure sensuality in their faces was always Beth’s undoing and now, with her climax so close, she knew she wasn’t going to last long enough. So she did something she didn’t do very often, she tapped into their emotions. Lindál had taught her how to do it but the three-way feedback had proved to be too overwhelming for all of them at once and they used it rarely. Now she sank into the black velvet landscape of emotional profiles in her vicinity and found the two men she loved most in the world and encompassed them. Raw lust, love, trust and eroticism showered her, immersed her, lifted her up and up and up…

Beth screamed, the back of her throat burning with the power of her climax. She could feel herself clench hard like a vice around Lindál, as he came in powerful shooting jerks. Zack choked off his own cry as he exploded into a swift, hard orgasm of his own, triggered by their shared emotional feedback.

Weakened, all three of them lay on the quilt to recover. Lindál curled himself around Beth and Zack fell on the other side of him, on his back, panting.

“I’m glad you don’t do that every time, Beth,” Zack said. “I feel like my balls are going to explode.”

“Crude, vampire. Crude.” Lindál shoved his elbow back.

“I feel like my cheekbones are coming out through my face,” Beth confessed. “And the back of my throat got ripped out.”

“It certainly sounded like it was being ripped out,” Zack chuckled.

Thunder rumbled overhead and with no more warning, it began to rain in heavy, stinging drops. Zack groaned. “Oh fuck, I really don’t want to move!”

Beth curled herself up tighter. “Me, neither.”

“It’s rain!” Lindál said, rolling onto his back and stretching out his arms. “Stay here. Enjoy it.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Zack said, sitting up and looking at Lindál with mock disbelief. Beth sat up too, the rain forcing her to make a move. She looked at Zack.

“Can you believe him?”

She grinned. Zack took any opportunity to give Lindál shit about his affinity for water, or any of his more elvish traits. “Can I take your shirt?” she asked him.

“You’re not going to help me out here?” Zack asked.

“You’re a big boy. Fight your own fights.” She slipped on the shirt he had been wearing over the top of the remnants of the ruined nightgown and picked up her knife. “I’ve got a full assembly to prepare for and cover stories to concoct for the New York Police Department, who are growing less gullible with each passing week.”

I’ve just built a temporary page for the tour for Mia’s Return, here,  which is starting to shape up. So far, I’ve got three dates, which is one better than I managed for Beth’s Acceptance, but this time I’ve got slightly better than thirteen day’s notice, too.

There’s such cool paranormal sites out there, isn’t there?  Amberkatz’s site is cute!

Y, indeed.

In cel mai nou sezon al serialului Gossip Girl, va aparea mult controversata cantareata, Lady GaGa.

Aceasta se va interpreta pe ea insasi, incercand sa aduca seriei putina extravaganta.

Serialul dedicat adolescentilor a trecut recent printr-un scandal; parintii s-au revoltat ca odraslele lor vad prea multe obscenitati in noua serie (cu precadere un “menage a trois” pentru care au cerut mai mult decat semnalizarea cu “acordul parental”).

Serialul cu Lady GaGa va fi difuzat in Statele Unite pe data de 16 noiembrie.

Retiro absolutamente TUDO o que eu disse sobre Miley Cirus estar participando de GossipGirl. Amei o triângulo entre Dan, Vanessa e a personagem de Milley!!!
É isso aeh one two three not only you and me getting down with three P. Everybody loves OOOOHHHHH

Quarta-Feira é dia de Editorial fresquinho no XY, esse em especial tem uma mulher como convidada, apesar do foco ser os rapazes, ela dá o tom do editorial que trata de um menage à Trois fashion.  Os meninos do trio são Matvey Lykov, Lyle Lodwick e Elsa Sylvan com estilo de Bryan McMahon e fotografia de Serge Leblon.

Muito se falou e especulou sobre a cena de sexo a três na terceira temporada de Gossip Girl. Após o anuncio de que três personagens estariam presentes na mesma cama fazendo sexo, algumas organizações resolveram ‘mexer os pauzinhos’ para impedir que a emissora americana The CW não exibisse o tal episódio. A organização norte-americana “Parents Television Council” (PTC), através de carta do seu presidente “Incluir uma história como essa em um programa com foco para impressionar adolescentes é imprudente e irresponsável. Nós estamos pedindo para cada afiliado da CW usar o bom senso e não exibir o episódio”, escreveu o presidente da PTC.

Vários sites e blogs lançaram apostas de quem seriam os protagonistas desta cena, mas dos que eu vi ou li, ninguém acertou, apenas a chamada do episódio tem o trio de atores q fazem esta ‘brincadeirinha’.

Spoiler, se preferir acompanhar o episódio somente quando ele for exibido no Brasil, pare por aqui.

Mesmo já tendo pipocado milhares de sites informando o nome os protagonistas da cena, eu não vou falar quem são, mas adianto que não tem nada de sexo e a cena começa quando três personagens principais estão em casa após uma festa lendo o jornal da universidade em especial uma matéria que diz tudo que vc tem q fazer enquanto está na Universidade e dos itens que consta na lista o único que nenhum dos três experimentou foi o sexo a três…

Mas pra quem quiser ver o trecho do episódio basta clicar aqui.

I finally got the cover for Destiny’s Trinities III – Sera’s Gift.

I’m so thrilled with it, but the bugger of it is, I can’t tell you why without giving you spoilers!  If you’re an author yourself, you might understand this one.  Ever had a cover artist who seems to have not only read the cover questionnaire, but slipped into your mind, plucked out the character, the story atmosphere, and plunked it onto the cover for you?  Down to incredibly accurate details?

Syneca, at Ellora’s Cave, has done so with this one.

Here’s the blurb, just to tease you because I’m in the mood:

———-

Sera arrives in New York to help Lindál, but a vampeen attack brings her face to face with two men and changes her life forever.

Diego Savage lives up to his name.  Cynical, rebellious and a womanizer, he doesn’t believe in the trinities at all. Only a handful of people know the truth about his scarred heart and terrible past, and it would take a miracle for him to change.  A miracle, or someone like Sera with her special gift.

Blake Harvey, dedicated NYC police lieutenant, takes one look at the tall, supple woman with the crystal blue eyes and glowing skin and knows his life is about to change in ways he can’t even define, but his body is already responding to with a power that is hard to deny.

The bonding has begun…

____________

Sera’s Gift will be out on January 4, 2010.

O assunto da semana será o polêmico ménage à trois que vai acontecer na série Gossip Girl, o esperado episódio vai ao ar hoje nos EUA. Para chamar ainda mais atenção o CW divulgou a chamada do episódio, assista abaixo:

Antes mesmo de ir ao ar, o episódio causou uma grande discussão nos Estados Unidos, o Parents Televison Council, que é um conselho televisivo formado por pais americanos, disse em um comunicado que não gostou da atitude do CW e que o conselho quer que o canal não transmita o episódio.

Uma grande besteira essa história, todo mundo sabe que no final o episódio não vai mostrar nada, no máximo uma ensinuação do tal menáge e toda essa polêmica só serve para aumentar a audiência da série.