Di you all go shopping on Black Friday? I did! I won’t lie, I look forward to Black Friday all year, I love it. my husband, mother-in-law, and I all braved the stores at the ungodly hour of 5am. It was worth it! We got some sweet deals.

Whether or not you began your holiday preparations yesterday (confession: I only bought stuff for myself yesterday), gift giving season is upon us!

So, what will you give to the special people are your list?

I’ve got a couple ideas:

Jewelry

Alexis Bittar heart pendant via Nordstrom.com

I love these Alexis Bittar heart pendants that come boxed and ready for giving at Nordstrom. They are gorgeous, and Alexis Bittar puts out some true artistry. My favorite is the red heart on the gunmetal chain. Just a little bit gothic.

cost: $125

Accessories

Rag & Bone cashmere gloves via SaksFifthAvenue.com

Cashmere gloves are a great little luxury in life and it’s always nice to not have to worry about sizing when buying a gift! I love these ones from Rag & Bone, red is a great little pop of color during the drab winter months

cost: $185

A Gift that Gives Back

Primo Toms via TomsShoes.com

Everyone knows by now what a great business Toms Shoes is. For every pair you buy, a pair is given to a child in need (it doesn’t hurt that the founder is totally adorable, either). These are a great gift! I love the Primo Toms pictured above because they’re a little menswear-ish, sort of Hugh Hefner. There are tons and tons of options to pick from on their website, suitable for a man or a woman. There’s no doubt you’ll find some just right for the person on your list.

cost: $44 and up (pictured pair is $54)

Speaking of buying gifts for a man, that is a huge challenge, isn’t it? Ugh, I spend easily ten times as much time picking out gifts for men than I do selecting those for women. It is really tough.

So, we’ll deal with that next post! I’ll give you some ideas so you don’t have to fret as much over what to get him.

Happy holidays!

LA CAZA

Anne Marsh

Tje Hunt es un romance paranormal que tiene lugar en una tierra donde el hombre cambia de forma de hombre a Gato.

Miu es una ladrona. Ella esta bajo el contro de Lierr, su maestro que le ha encomendado una tarea que ella debe completar, robar  un collar de piedra de luna desde el templo de Amun Ra, sino su hermana va a sufrir.

Miu es una ladrona con mucho talento pero robar el collar no va a ser fácil. Con el fin de entrar en el templo, ella tendrá que participar en la Caza, dónde las nocias vírgenes son cazadas por los Guardianes del Templo, que llevan a sus cautivas como sus compañeras. Los Guardianes cambian de forma, pueden adoptar la forma de Gatos gigantes y protegen  su reino de los enemigos.  

Miu es buena para fingir y ella es una ladrona experimentada, así que ella va vestida como una virgen al Templo, con el fin de tomar el collar y arrancar. Sin embargo, su actitud llama la atención de Amun Ra. Miu decididamente no es una virgen tímida, y Amun Ra piensa que ella puede estar tramando algo. Se asigna a Jafar, un Guardián con experienci para vigilara a Miu, meintras ella está en el Templo. Jafar no está emocionado por su misión, él pretende ayudar a Miu y guiarla en el Templo. No se necesita demasiado tiempo para que la naturaleza Felina de Jafar reviva y le exiga  a Miu como compañera.

Miu piensa que Jafar es un mercenario enviado por Lierr para asegurarse de que ella roba el collar. Por su parte, él ala protege en el laberinto de túneles bajo el Templo y la ayuda cuando ella se mete en problemas, lo cual sucede con frecuencia.

Continuación del extracto.

El sacerdote intentó continuar, pero ella lo interrumpió.
“Sí, sí”, ella hizo un gesto hacia las filas de estatuas de los felinos. “comprendo que sólo soy simplemente una presa para esta encantadora caza suya, pero yo nunca he accedido a ningún examen.
¿Aquella especie de humillación?”. Ella sacudió la cabeza.
“Nunca me inscribí para esto”.
Él la miró fijamente, perplejo. Una o dos de las mujeres más cerca de ella empezaron a alejarse lentamente. Obviamente nunca nadie había cuestionado al sacerdote.
“Yo no veo por qué usted o cualquier otra persona debe inspeccionarme. Claramente ella dejó que una de sus manos se deslizara por delante de su vestido, deliberadamente presionando la fina seda contra las redondeadas, firmes curvas de sus muslos: “Tengo dos piernas que funcionan perfectamente bien. La suficiente energía para correr. Y yo no, ella  arqueó una ceja hacia él sólo para ver si eso lo provocaba,  ”tengo la intención ser capturada”.
Ella esperó a ver si los hombres que se veían en la galería mordían el anzuelo. Ellos eran cazadores.  Ellos se deleitarían con el desafío que ella abiertamente había emitido.  
Y, siendo hombres, ella dudaba que ellos  dejaran de preguntarse por qué había ella  emitido un reto tan crudo.
El Sacerdote cometió el error de discutir con ella.
“Usted estuvo de acuerdo.” Él señaló acusándola a ella con un dedo, acechándola a ella en un giro autosuficiente de costosas vestimentas. “Su familia tomó la dote. Usted vino aquí”.
Ella sonrió dulcemente. No había ninguna necesidad de decirle al hombre que ella simplemente había pedido la ropa adecuada a una costurera de vuelta en Shympolsk y luego ella se deslizo en las filas de mujeres que se dirigían al templo. Ninguna dote le había sido pagada a ella y ninguna familia había estado de acuerdo en enviarla a ella.

 
“Y si algún felino decide que él puede arrastrarme, como su compañero, él necesitará atraparme primero”. El intenso interés de las galerías de arriba se hizo más fuerte. Ella podía oler el aroma embriagador de cuero, de masculinos cuerpos, y una buena cantidad de interés sexual que brotaba de los observadores de arriba. Esto era algo muy bueno que ella no tenía ninguna intención de ser atrapada; ella sospechaba que, leyendas o no leyendas, lo que aquellos hombres tomaban, ellos lo mantenían. En otras circunstancias, ella habría aplaudido ese sentimiento.
El hombre que salió de las sombras más oscuras de  la Cámara era tan increíblemente alto como los cazadores que llenaban la galería superior, pero él llevaba el hábito negro de un sacerdote del templo. Sus pies descalzos se movieron silenciosamente sobre los azulejos de mosaicos con toda la gracia de un luchador. Un partido para sus habilidades de hecho. Éste sería más difícil de engañar. La profunda capucha ocultaba su rostro, pero ella podía distinguir sus firmes labios en una en una línea severa.
Él la tomó del brazo y ella le permitió dirigirla más profundamente en las frescas, perfumadas profundidades del templo.

“Ven”, con una voz de líquida oscuridad. Detrás de ella podía oír un rugido sofocado. Durante un momento pareció como si las estatuas de piedra de los felinos se moviesen, reflejando una leve, misteriosa vida.
Imposible.

Ellos avanzaron en otra habitación de altos techos, fresca, envuelto en sombras ahumadas. Un dintel tallado con jeroglíficos ininteligibles decoraban la entrada y las paredes estaban cuidadosamente armadas a partir de grandes bloques de piedra caliza que habían sido traídos en algún momento del tiempo de canteras del extranjero, nadie en el Valle podría recordar cómo o cuando el templo había sido construido.

El hombre empujó la capucha hacia atrás de su cabeza con una mano impaciente y ella comprendió  que él tenía más que sólo la constitución física  de un Guardián. Él tenía la cara de uno de ellos también. Tres oscuras barras de oro decoraban el lado izquierdo de su cara y  oscuros ojos la miraban sin pestañear. Si lo que le habían dicho a ella era correcto, las tres barras significaba que su escolta no era otro que Amun Ra, el líder del templo y el primero de varios obstáculos en su camino hacia el collar….

El resto del extracto se encuentra en el siguiente link

Descargar extracto

LA CAZA

Anne Marsh

No importaba  la forma en que ellas traten de huir, las vírgenes que entran en los escabrosos túneles de los Guardianes están destinadas a ser capturadas. En realidad, la mayoría no se esfuerza demasiado. Las historias de los guerreros que pueden tomar la forma felina, de los amantes que pueden hacer a una mujer gritar de placer, son demasiado atractivas.

Pero Miu no es virgen, y ella se unió a la caza con sus propios planes. Después de que ella roba el collar de piedra lunar por el cual fue enviada, ella no tiene ninguna intención de convertirse en bocado de algún gato. Demasiado tarde ella descubre que estos gatitos tienen unos hábitos deliciosamente perversos, y el oscuro cazador en su camino no va a dejar que este imprudente robo sin el más exquisito castigo.

Extracto 

Grandes estatuas de oro custodiaban el Templo de Amun Ra, esculturas que, volvían a la vida cada vez que un ladrón entraba en las tumbas cargadas de tesoros en su interior. Independiente de la veracidad de las historias, estaba segura que los guerreros Guardianes vagaban por las catacumbas bajo el templo, misteriosos hombres que los simples granjeros cercanos al Valle los temían y los envidiaban. Ellos han sido convocados para proteger, perseguir y, cazar. Una vez al año los Guardianes reclamaban su precio por la protección que ellos daban al Valle y a sus habitantes, el derecho a cazar a las vírgenes del Valle para convertirlas en sus compañeras.

Las rodillas de Miu temblaban tanto que ella pensó que tendría que arrodillarse y trepar lentamente sobre la amplia rampa de piedra caliza que desaparecía en la fría oscuridad de las profundidades del templo. Heqet la ayudaba, ella había sido persuadida para pensar que ella podría llevar a cabo este trabajo. Los rojos rayos del sol de la tarde se abrían un pesado camino a través de sus hombros. Ella se enderezo y avanzó más rápido. Ella lo lograría. Ella tenía que hacerlo.

 Dos grandes torres marcaban la entrada al templo. Un escultor había tallado un retrato elaborado de dos Gatos cambiando de la forma felina para formar un guerrero, su enormes garras transformándose en puñales de acero que casi sin piedad los dos seres que acababan de aparecer atacaban al ladrón. El ladrón miraba hacia atrás con horror, su congelada boca abierta en un grito mudo. Tú puedes hacer esto, Miu se dijo a sí misma. Tú no terminaras como él. ¿Noventa y nueve éxitos y tú crees que este será tu primer fracaso?
No, Heqet lo había dispuesto, ella estaría dentro y fuera del templo, mucho antes que esas garras letales alcanzaran sus hombros. Antes de que  sus guardianes felinos se dieran cuenta de que ellos habían  permitido a un ladrón vagar libremente en su interior.

La fila de vírgenes vestidas de blanco, delante de ella, cruzaron el umbral y desaparecieron en las sombras del interior. La mujer a su lado sollozaba en voz alta, los montículos de sus pechos agitados violentamente debajo de su bata de seda, ella era poco más que una niña, Miu se dio cuenta con disgusto. Calculaba que los guerreros Felinos preferían niñas por parejas. Por supuesto, la
mujer a otro lado era de tendencia más calculadora, ella estaba frotando el borde de su bata de seda entre su dedo índice y el pulgar,  evaluando la calidad de la tela mientras ella miraba con coquetería las estatuas de gatos que llenaban la habitación en la que ellas acababan de entrar.

 Los gatos eran de más de siete pies de altura y tallados en lo que parecía ser oro puro. Oscuras obsidianas brillaban de sus ojos. Uno de éstos, fundido y remodelado en una serie de menos memorables adornos podrían haberlas mantenido protegidas durante meses a ella y a su hermana. Era una lástima que esto no fuera posible. Ella les dirigió una segunda mirada, sólo por curiosidad profesional, se aseguró a sí misma, y luego se obligó a sí misma  a marcharse.

 Ella no estaba allí para robar siete estatuas de pie. Ella estaba allí para robar algo mucho más pequeño. Un collar. Hecho de plata y piedras lunares, y colocado en un cofre hace cincuenta años atrás. Habían otros, especiales, bienes  le habían dicho, pero éstos no importaban. Del mismo modo que no importaba que ella no fuera quién quería el collar. Ella debía hacer lo que le habían ordenado hacer. Encontrar el collar, guardárselo, y escapar del templo, sin ser atrapada por uno de los legendarios guerreros felinos.

Luego ella estaría en casa libre de peligro. Literalmente.
Todo dependía de encontrar el collar.
Y evitar a los Guardianes del templo. Ella miró las esculturas de nuevo.
Francamente, ella no estaba convencida de que hubiera algo tal como un Guardián. Guerreros, sí. Sin duda, los defensores del templo, quienes vigilaban sus fabulosas riquezas. Sin embargo, ¿una raza especial de los Guardianes, que podrían convertirse en felinos letales? No. Las historias de los Felinos y  su caza anual de compañeras vírgenes eran demasiado extravagantes para ser verdad.

 ¿Que hombre realmente enviaría a las mujeres solteras de su familia a un monstruo de piedra de una tumba, para ser perseguida por guerreros que cambiaban de forma, rondando en busca de su compañera?

Miu se preguntó si alguien habría comprobado para ver si todas las mujeres que se reunían en el santuario eran, de hecho, vírgenes. Miu sospechaba que había más de una farsante en el lote, partiendo por la mujer avara de la derecha.
Si esa mujer no se había acostado con un hombre, Miu haría penitencia por una semana.
Calmando a la muchacha que temblaba a su izquierda, Miu hizo su mejor mezcla  de “Todo terminará pronto”, prometió ella, sin saber si ella estaba diciendo la verdad. Pero, ¿cómo podría alguien con conciencia mantener a esta niña aquí?

 La muchacha le lanzó una mirada con los ojos llorosos y frunció el ceño.
“¿Te conozco?”, pregunto ella. No tan simple como ella creía entonces.
Por supuesto, la niña no lo hizo. Después de haberse preparado para esta
eventualidad, Miu mintió sin problemas y esperó a ver si la niña aceptaba su mentira. “Yo soy de una de los granjas más lejanas”.

No parecía convencida, la muchacha asintió con la cabeza y luego volvió a llorar.
Miu deslizó lejos. No tenía sentido en ser descuidada, y si la muchacha decidía que ella realmente no conocía a Miu, ella podría quejarse, y siempre habría algún hombre, en algún lugar, quien estaría dispuesto a escuchar sus quejas. Ella se encogió de hombros. El valle estaba habitado por los agricultores con campos bien cuidados, un grupo aislado quienes no daban la bienvenida a los extraños.

La visita anual de los comerciantes, que entraban al Valle dirigiendo un grupo de animales cargados con cualquier cosa que la gente del pueblo no pudieran sembrar o hacer por sí mismos, había proporcionado la coartada perfecta para la llegada de Miu. En la oleada de entusiasmo generado por los comerciantes, nadie se había dado cuenta de que Miu escapo del grupo. La noche siguiente, nadie se había opuesto cuando ella se unió a la procesión de vírgenes que avanzaban en tropel hacia el templo para la caza.

Hasta ahora, había sido fácil.
Los hombres que conducían a las mujeres hacia el templo se detuvieron y se retiraron. Miu trató de parecer una angustiada virgen más que desesperada, mientras  el sacerdote del templo apareció y  lanzó a una mirada  de largo aliento sobre el honor que se otorgaría a unas pocas elegidas de la asamblea de mujeres.

Un tonto pomposo, decidió ella minutos más tarde, quien gozaba del sonido de su voz y el delicioso eco de la cámara de alto techo en  la cual ellas esperaban. Las hileras de estatuas de gato se extendían a ambos lados de la Cámara, pero ella no vio guardias, ni armas aquí en el interior del templo.

 Sin embargo, ella tenía la extraña sensación de estar siendo observada.
Luego ella lanzó una mirada a las galerías superiores.
Heqet la ayudaría, las galerías estaban llenas de figuras oscuras quienes casi la tentaban a creer en las absurdas leyendas acerca de los Guardianes del templo: imposiblemente altas, hombres de anchos hombros vestidos en largas togas negras, su cabello  atado hacia atrás hasta la mitad de la espalda.
Su cabeza se dirigió a su alrededor mientras captaba al sacerdote decir  las últimas palabras. “. . . vírgenes, por supuesto”, declaró él. Las palabras del hombre se sintieron como una bofetada en la cara. Miu no era virgen, pero a menos que ella se equivocara en su suposición, tampoco lo eran muchas de las otras mujeres.

 Ahora el sacerdote siguió adelante con sus palabras de felicitación por su bien conservada virginidad y explicó cómo se llevaría a cabo la caza.
Ninguna mujer había logrado escapara de los señores Gato, él les aseguró. Miu quiso burlarse, pero ella mantuvo su expresión en blanco y sus ojos modestamente abatidos.

 ”Cuando se de la señal”, dijo el sacerdote, “los tapices serán retirados de estas paredes. Cada una de ustedes va a elegir un túnel y entrar en él. Correr. Ustedes tienen una noche para llegar hasta las piedras de pie  del otro lado del Valle. Cualquier mujer que lo logré es libre de escoger si ella quiere permanecer  con el señor Gato o volver a su propia especie en el Valle”. El sacerdote sonrió con falsa benevolencia. “Ninguna mujer llega a las piedras de pie nunca volverá a correr, y la dote a cada una de ustedes por los Guardianes será suya para guardar”.

¡Ah, sí. Dinero! Una explicación perfectamente comprensible de por qué había tantas mujeres en la sala y por qué sus familias las habían ofrecido a ellas para la Caza. Sin dinero en la mano, los escrúpulos eran un lujo que la mayoría no podían permitirse.

El Sacerdote miro a las mujeres reunidas con severidad. “Por supuesto, hay otra posibilidad de terminar con la caza, cuando un cazador la captura como su compañera”. Los detalles de lo que sucedía entonces, el ritual de tomar la virginidad de la muchacha,  había sido un tema popular en las tabernas del Valle.

Leyenda tenía un salvajismo al respecto que impresionaba incluso a los comerciantes de visita, que habían visto una gran parte del mundo exterior. Una vez más, Miu tuvo sus dudas acerca de la verdad de los cuentos. ¿El guerrero Felino sería su compañero y la marcaría de tal modo que él siempre sería capaz de encontrarla a ella? Pamplinas. Ella no sabía qué significaba eso, pero sin duda era algún eufemismo romántico para un acto sexual.
El Sacerdote concluyo su discurso ahora, y sus palabras finales lleno su cabeza de incredulidad. “Ustedes irán, una por una, hacia la sala de audiencias
y serán a examinadas por el Amun Ra”, dijo él. ¿Entrevista con el gobernante de gran señor de esta gente Gato? No si Miu podía evitarlo. Este Amun Ra descubriría que ella era una farsante y ella  terminaría como el ladrón en su macabro friso de la puerta antes de que ella incluso hubiera tenido la oportunidad de hacer cualquier saqueo por su cuenta.

La acción decisiva fue hacer una petición ahora.
Su voz trajo el asunto a un punto muerto.
“No”

 El viejo sacerdote casi se atragantó. Su cara enrojecida y uno de sus acólitos tuvo que correr y golpearlo a él sin miramientos en la espalda. Él se quedó mirando siniestramente hacia ella. “Esta no es una elección  que usted pueda hacer, niña.  El Amun Ra ha hablado. Él ha expresado sus deseos muy claros”. Aparentemente, los deseos de su santidad suprema triunfaban sobre los de una simple mujer.

continuara

by Marie-Claude Bourque 

WE HAVE A WINNER! BOONE BRUX CONGRATULATION!

I am thrilled to welcome Dorchester author Ann Marsh today. Since I’ve joined the Dorchester team, I keep meeting authors that have got their starts through a contest. Of course, there are all the American Title winners and finalists and the Shomi contest winner Gayle Ann Williams. And we do all cross our fingers here for Candi who is a finalist in the Dorchester Best-Celler contest.

Some authors actually were discovered by Dorchester through plain old RWA contests (which still elude me to this day), for example Angie Fox who will visit us in January and Ann Mash a debut author with paranormal romance THE HUNT who I just had the delight to meet.

I cannot wait to read about her happy ending story and learn about her wisdom on the contest route to publication.

AND PLEASE DON’T FORGET TO COMMENT FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A COPY OF ANN MARSHS DEBUT PARANORMAL ROMANCE: THE HUNT

       I sold my first two books because of RWA chapter contests.  I’d just been laid off from a dream job at Pixar and was bawling my eyes out at home when I read about the San Francisco RWA’s Heart-to-Heart contest. All you had to do was send them twenty-five bucks and the first twenty pages. Easy-peasy. I could do that. Hell, I had half a manuscript under my bed, didn’t I? Just to improve my odds, however, I whipped off another entry in two days—since Pixar had graciously gifted me with all that extra time—and sent it in. Six months later, I won. With the last minute entry. And got a request for a full from Hilary Sares of Kensington.

            Surreal.

            Not supposed to happen.

            Therefore, I had NO clue what to do next.

            So I spent a desperate month writing the unwritten 70,000 words and then sent the manuscript off, fired up a little Excel macro to tell me how many days I’d been waiting to hear from Hilary Sares who was, of course, going to offer me a six-book contract and an advance large enough to live on in the Bay Area while I wrote all the rest of my NYT bestselling books. See? Easy-peasy. I could so do this.

            While I waited to hear back from Ms. Sares and the Excel macro reached double and then triple digits, I entered some more contests. Because, you know, the first one was such a fabulous investment of my dollars that I just had to do it again.

            And again.

            And again.

            The first rule of contests? Contests are addictive. Oh, and, if you’re very lucky and if your CPA agrees, you might be able to deduct the cost of your entry.

            I spent just over a year gleefully doing the contest circuit until Dorchester’s Editorial Director, Alicia Condon, judged THE HUNT (placing me second, I might add) and bought the book. Some writers focus on one manuscript, polish it up, and then enter it absolutely everywhere. Next year, those writers enter a different baby in the literary stakes, unless they’ve landed a contract and rendered themselves ineligible. The rest of us? We take the shotgun approach. We lob a manuscript at this contest and a manuscript at that one. I had four different manuscripts on the contest circuit that year and no—none of them were even remotely close to done when I started entering. Some made it to the finals. Some didn’t.

            In addition to the obvious plus of conning Dorchester into actually publishing my book, three reasons had me entering contests.

1. Feedback. Although it turns out I was too scared most of the time to look at it. I just flipped through some contest results today and discovered that Susan Squires had read my entry. And commented on it. In longhand. Too bad I was too chicken to read the feedback because I’d got fixated on the scores. The numbers don’t really matter. The comments do. Susan Squires LIKED my entry—and she had a great many valuable suggestions… that I’m going to take. Two years later, I’m going to have to Google-stalk her and send her a thank you email.
2. Validation. Writing is lonely. Hearing someone who is not blood-related to you say “I like the way you write” means something.  Ask any contest winner: there’s the contest high, the euphoria of the final. Writing means rejection and lots of them. I’ve heard other writers say it and I’ll say it, too: every rejection may be one step closer to the one “yes” you need to get your book in the bookstore… but all those “no, thank yous” still hurt. Contest finals let you know you’re doing something right. That you just might be getting closer.
3. The golden ticket. A contest final is like finding Willy Wonka’s ultimate Golden Ticket. You get to skip the slush pile. Go straight to the top of the editor’s TBR pile (OK, not really… but at least you’re not on the bottom of the pile). The day I wrote “Requested Materials” on the front of the box I was sending off to Kensington is indelibly stamped in my memory. Those letters looked like a 9.0 magnitude earthquake had just struck California. I made the kids kiss the box for good luck as well and sent the slightly sticky box on its way. Dorchester took submissions electronically, but I had the thrill of knowing I was at the top of the inbox.
4. A thick skin. I didn’t know I was learning this from contests, but I was. So not only does it count—but this was the most important lesson of all. Take what you hear about your work with a grain of salt and look for advice you can apply… and grow a very, very thick skin. Learning to accept criticism—if not graciously, then quietly and not in a blogosphere-wide rant—was the most important thing contests gave me. Not the golden ticket pass to the editor’s desk or the really lovely framed certificate or even the slightly glazed look in my CPA’s eyes as I dumped all my receipts into his lap and demanded a tax write-off. What I learned was that some readers loved my stories—and some of them didn’t. Ouch.  It turned out to be good practice for my first set of revisions from my editor. And even better practice for my first set of reviews.

My very first contest entry ever? The one that won straight out of the gate and garnered a full? It also placed in the very bottom 50% of the Central Florida Romance Writers’ 2008 Touch of Magic Contest. Two judges loved it. The third deemed it outright unpublishable and said so. Quite frankly. My scores were 98, 96—and a 47. Welcome to contests. As one judge noted in her comments: “I loved the story. Some people won’t. It’s a matter of taste.” She was right. It is. I’ve read published books that have absolutely scaled the NYT Bestseller list—and loathed them. Just not to my taste. Contests are the same way and you need to grow that tough skin. Oh, and I sold that book. Not to Hilary Sares, but to Alicia Condon at Dorchester. And I sold it because I took the advice I got from the contest judge who hated the book so much she had to give it a 47 to make her point—and from Ms. Sares—and I rewrote that book until it was darker, sexier and sharper. BOND WITH ME comes out in September 2010 from Dorchester Publishing and I really need to go send that judge a thank you note.

Dr. Seuss has a fabulous set of lines in OH, THE PLACES YOU’LL GO!.  “Wherever you go,” he exclaims, “you will top all the rest. Except when you don’t. Because, sometimes, you won’t. I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you”  For better or worse, he’s right. Contests involve a great deal of lucky—being lucky enough to draw a judge who likes what you write, for example. But, even if you’re staring at a 47 inked on top of your beloved manuscript and wondering how the heck that happened, there are still benefits you can take away. You’ve got the feedback. Plus, you simply can’t win if you don’t put yourself out there—so award yourself full points for courage. And, perhaps most importantly, you’ve still got a chance to network. Write thank you notes, to both your contest coordinator and to your judges. And remember… that the next contest will have a new set of judges. THE HUNT may have placed second in the 2008 Orange Rose—but that was only after it placed 17^th out of 27 entries in the 2008 Spring into Romance contest and ignominiously failed to final.

As Dr. Seuss insists, “when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.” Dive in. Give contests a shot. Because, honestly, who knows what might be in it for you?

What an inspiring story Ann and great advice. I wish I had known all that when I started to do contest. Thank you so much for visiting and sharing with us.

Don’t forget to comment for your chance to win and you can get your own copy of THE HUNT by visiting Ann’s website or directly through Amazon.

]]> http://vadaramblesandsings.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/raines-law-room/ Fri, 20 Nov 2009 12:44:35 +0000 Vada http://vadaramblesandsings.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/raines-law-room/

Last night was one for the books.

Through that doorbell-protected black door is the Raines Law Room, a secret lounge on 17th and 6th Av. A coworker and I ran there after work so we could nab a few arm chairs in the corner and drink Pimm’s all night long.

Three cocktails later I am love drunk and actually believing I am in someone’s living room as opposed to Chelsea. God I loved New York last night.

Tonight, Eugene is experiencing high winds, gusting up to 40 mph–much higher than what’s usual here. (In fact, the blustery gale-force winter winds are one of the things I’ve missed about the east coast.) We became aware of this after having watched a couple of episodes of Dr. Who (my winding-down period after a long day at my mundane job), at which point the roaring of the wind outside became progressively more insistent and harder to ignore.  It sounded like ocean waves pounding the front steps of the house.

I went to the back door to look out, and all of our deck furniture had been overturned.  The umbrella was lying halfway across the yard. I went out to close the umbrella so it wouldn’t get blown around even more, and started laughing uncontrollably, the wind making me giddy. Despite the fact that I tripped and hurt my knee on the deck in the course of getting back into the house, I decided that I had to go sit outside on the deck for a while. So I did, putting on my poncho and talking a glass of red wine to toast the Hunt with (and leaving the porch light off to avoid disturbing our neighbor).

It had occurred to me, a few days ago, that tonight was the new moon, but I’d had nothing specific planned. Yet how much more perfect an observance could there be, for me, than welcoming the Hunt as it rode into town? I sat and opened myself, pledging myself once again as Their Gate into the physical world, while the giants who live in the trees sang and roared and danced in the wind, and the wind played with my hair. I toasted the Hunt and their Leader, and–at Odin’s insistence–myself as Their Gate, and then poured out the rest of the wine as a libation on the grass. I sat there, head tilted back, arms spread wide, feeling  the wind sweep over me and through me.

And then I heard it, high above: hunting horns, coming from everywhere and nowhere. And the thin piping of flutes, mingled with with the raspier sound of pan-pipes and the steady rhythm of drums. The music of the Hunt–ghostly, haunting music–heard with my physical ears (or at least, so it seemed to me)…even though it wasn’t physically there at all.  (I went upstairs afterwards and opened the bedroom window to see if I could still hear it…but the moment had passed.)

I have fought and I have dragged my feet, and I’ve been complaining the past few days that I haven’t felt like I’ve made much progress at all since Hallows…But tonight I know it: this is the year everything changes for me. This is the end of one seven-year cycle (in December, I will have been married to Odin for seven years, so far) and the beginning of another. This year, I can finally begin to see all of the groundwork laid over the past seven years, and the path that has been laid, shimmering, beneath my feet. The work isn’t done–I still have to walk the path–but this year, things reach a whole new level.

More to come in the next few days about the future direction of this blog (including a name change).

- Valgrind

The only drawback is that the dark mane is very difficult to hide. Lions would love to help in the hunt but the lion will chase away all the prey animals and the pride will go without food. The lionesses are better equipped for the hunt and with their iseballine (greyish-yellow) colouration they can stalk the prey more effectively.

This greyish-yellow colouration can be seen in this photo and if the lioness is stalking prey she can almost disappear in the tall grass.  The lioness will keep low to the ground and if the prey animals raise their heads, the lioness will freeze until the prey animals resume grazing again.  The lioness can go unseen even to her own kind and that is why her ears have black blotches at the rear.  The lionesses need to know where each individual is in the hunt if they want to complete it successfully.  The dominant female will lead the way and rest of the hunting party will follow her movement through the grass by means of the black ears and will react to her movements.

The lioness is a powerful hunter and weigh on average about 90kg to 110kg.  This powerful bulk must be unseen in a hunt and the lioness will use the terrain in her advantage when stalking prey. On many occasions in my guiding career, I have seen lions used game viewer vehicles to their advantage in stalking prey.  The lioness in the next photo used the contour line of an airfield to spy on potential prey.

The next article will be about the killing act itself and how lions are adapted to kill large prey animals.  If the readers of this blog wanted to ask Rangerriaan questions about the different aspects of the natural wonders of South Africa, it can be done through my email address.

Enjoy what you do, “totsiens!”

It may not be the best kept secret in New York City, but I had to add the Bowery Ballroom to my list. The famous music venue is just a few steps from my front door in the LES, located on Bowery Street and Delancey. ‘The Bowery’ is a small neighborhood downtown, notorious for dilapidated music halls, a littering of Chinese trash, and wandering homeless. Once you stop by the Ballroom for a Blue Point and live guitar rides however, your feeling for the area will instantly lift.

I went last Wednesday night to see The Xx, a wounded, sexy band from London. The music was a perfect reflection of the dark downtown neighborhood at 11:00, the misty weather, and my current state of mind. Lyrics like ‘maybe I had said something that was wrong… can I make it better with the lights turned on?’ and ‘I still want to drown whenever you leave,’ I found myself staring in awe at the lead singer (and lead guitar player. did I mention she was a girl? yeah. rock star).

And the beat goes on.

After getting my POST scores back several weeks ago (which were quite good, by the way), I sent them along with the other required information to the last two agencies I had applied to.  Shortly thereafter I received the letter/email I’d been dreading, “Thank you for your participation, good luck with your law enforcement career, just not with us.”  And so once more I was prospectless.

During the time I was applying and testing for all these departmental jobs, only to be repeatedly let down, the prospect of self-sponsoring myself through the police academy began looking more and more attractive.  When it first occurred to me I shrugged it off as too impractical.  Since I would need to continue working I wouldn’t be able to do the standard 20 week program, but the alternative didn’t really seem like a good idea at the time.  My local academy runs a modular program that stretches over 11 months.  Classes are held on Tuesday and Thursday nights from 6 PM to 10 PM and Saturdays 8 AM to 5 PM.  That’s a lot of time away from home, the weeknights being especially tricky what with the baby and all.  But after all the rejections, it began to look not only more possible, but preferred.  As hard as it would be to carry a full time job, while spending 16 hours a week in school (not including homework), and maintaining some semblance of a family life, wouldn’t that still be easier than packing up and moving to a new town, which would require renting our current house, likely apartment living for an indefinite length of time, all while in the midst of strangers?  So we decided to seriously consider it.

I talked to several of my officer friends, some who went through that same academy–though the 20-week variety–to get their input.  Am I insane to even try this, I’d ask.  Am I going to want to kill myself after the first month?  No one told me it would be easy, but they didn’t think I was totally nuts.  So that was encouraging.  Or as encouraging as it could be.  I continued doing research and just last Thursday, my birthday, attended orientation.  Let me tell you, no two words go together better than orientation and birthday, no siree.  Actually, it went very well.  By the time I left I was pumped up and ready to start.  The director was enthusiastic and seemed ready to help us do what we needed to do to be successful.  There were about 30 of us in attendance, mostly guys between 23 and 35, a few older and a couple women.  There was one older guy who wore a bolo tie, looked like Steve Buscemi and had the voice of Buffalo Bill from Silence of the Lambs.  Not who I’d want to see walking up to my car window on a lonely rural road.  Besides his upsetting look and sound, when one of the presentation slides entitled “Possible Disqualifiers” displayed “Not registering for the Selective Service” as one of its bullet points, he said he’d never registered (he had to be almost 50) and would it be advantageous to do so now.  Unfortunately that wasn’t his dumbest question.  My possible competition?  Booyah.

Classes start in January.  I had already begun to prepare mentally and physically for the year ahead, but now I’ll be kicking it into overdrive.  I’m excited and terrified.  While even if I pass with flying colors, there is still no guarantee of a job once I finish.  But at this point I feel like I’ve exhausted all the other options and this is my best shot.  I feel good about it.  We’ll see if that still holds true in a month or four.

On Thursday afternoon I was asked to attend a business lunch taking place on Friday afternoon. Eek! After determining that yes, there would be tiramisu for dessert (I have my priorities) I instantly panicked about what to wear.

My usual uniform is too casual for an event like this, and I couldn’t remember what business-appropriate outfit I’d worn when I’d last seen these people. So, off to the stores I went.

During my shopping excursion, I was reminded first hand of how hard it is to find fashionable, work-appropriate wear these days. I tried on some great day dresses, but they were all too short to be OK for this sort of meeting.

great Milly dress, but too short for my event

I next went for slim-legged work pants, but none existed (ugh!)

great classic pants, but not trendy

Finally, I found an absolutely gorgeous high-waisted, knee-length black pencil skirt, which I needed to fill a huge, gaping, pencil-skirt-shaped hole in my wardrobe anyway.

back-pleated pencil skirt via forever21.com

All this shopping and the many failures made me sympathetic to those women who must dress professionally every day, and struggle to find trendy options.

I learned from my own experience that it’s best to pick one anchor item, and let it make your statement. For example, while I would have liked to wear my perfectly modern pencil skirt with ankle boots and a big bow headband, instead I paired it with sleek pumps and a mod jacket. I still looked, and more importantly felt, on trend; but in order to blend in with my conservative peers, I kept the silhouette simple.

And the bonus was, the tiramisu was amazing

Where do you find inspiration for your own personal style? Most of us (even stylists) don’t draw from an endless well of creativity and therefore must look outside of our own ideas to gain some fresh inspiration.

How do you do that, you ask? The resources are endless.

1. Start with clothes you already own. What are your favorite pieces? Not the ones you wear the most, but the clothes you’re still so excited about. For me, I have a yellow ruffled top with a grey satin ribbon belt that I adore. I’ve probably only worn it three times, but just looking at it makes me so happy! What items do you have that are like that? Once you’ve determined what they are, write down why they’re your favorites. For me and my yellow top, it’s the romantic ruffles paired with the gloomy grey. I love that combination. So, that’s a good place for me to begin: romantic items with a little edge.

Maybe I’d get a dark grey tank with a sweet half-bow detail:

half-bow tank via nordstrom.com

and pair it with some fingerless leather gloves and my knit motorcycle jacket to toughen it up.

2. Imitation is the best form of flattery. Whose style to you admire? It should go without saying that buying their exact same sweater, jacket, boots, etc. isn’t flattering in any way and shouldn’t be done. However, you can draw some ideas from them. Personally, I pay attention to people who are extra-proficient at mixing prints and try to figure out the fundamentals of what they do so I can replicate their ideas (not their exact look!) within my own wardrobe.

some successfully mixed prints

3. Watch a movie or some good TV. Yeah, yeah, yeah everyone’s inspired by Audrey Hepburn, Jackie O., Marilyn Monroe, and all the other icons. But there are countless other stylish characters that go unnoticed and under-appreciated. When I think back on movies I like, most of them I love for the clothes. Do you pay attention to character wardrobes? They can provide a wealth of ideas for you! I love Penelope Cruz’s wardrobe from her role in Vicky Christina Barcelona. The epitome of gypsy summer chic (but no cigarette for me, thanks)

The inimitable Ms. Cruz in character

Satin and suede fringe? I wouldn’t have paired those on my own.

4. Just pick a trend. When nothing is right, nothing is good enough, nothing has the “wow” factor: just pick a trend. I did this. I picked animal print. It’s everywhere, it’s a trend that goes on forever, and I don’t have much of it. All of a sudden I started noticing zebra-patterned beading, and embossed-leopard flats (or even better, the yellow flats below!). I started putting it together with stuff I already owned: “I could wear these flats with tights and that striped mini-skirt. I could wear that tank under a blazer with the sleeves rolled up and some bold ankle boots. I could wear….” and on and on.

Jimmy Choo flats via saksfifthavenue.com

Sometimes all you need is a push. It might not even feel like the right direction at first, but you have to force it a little. You’ll end up with a whole new look you would have never tried before!

The purpose of this tear mark is to lessen the sun’s glare on the eyes of the cheetah while it is hunting in direct sunlight.  There are exceptions and cheetahs have been observed to hunt at night, but this was always with a full moon and the reason for this is obvious.

The eyes of lions are totally different and to hunt successfully in the dark they need to reflect all the available light into their eyes. It is never completely dark and the lions use lunar light and star light to enhance their night sight.  The thick white lines under and above the lion eyes can be seen in the next photo. These lines reflect the light back to the cornea and aid the eye in seeing in the dark.

The yellow arrow points towards a faint tear mark.  Lions are highly adaptable hunters, if the terrain allows better conditions for day time hunting, and then the lions are also able to hunt at these times. The tear mark is not that dark, because the lions prefer the night time hunting and many more adaptations can aid them in doing so.

This article is the start of a new category, the hunt, where I will explain the dynamics that are involved in a lion while it is hunting. The following subjects will be explained.

The roll the paws and nails play in the hunt.

Camouflage and how the lions use the terrain to advance on prey animals.

The teeth count and structure and how these assist the lion in killing prey.

The tail and how it is used in keeping the lion upright.

Rangerriaan

Ever have that problem? I did last weekend. I had some spending cash, and was excited to spruce up my wardrobe with some cozy stuff for the chilly weather. I traipsed through store after store and didn’t buy one single thing. How depressing! Nothing seemed exciting enough to warrant the purchase. There were plenty of blah-blah options, but who needs those?

Luckily, there are some easy solutions to this common, discouraging problem:

1. Buy accessories. Rachel Zoe herself (swoon-idol to stylists everywhere)  recommends this, and she’s right in doing so. Purchasing some fun accessories can make what you already have feel so much more exciting. So, what to buy?  How about some fun, mixed-element earrings…

crystal cluster earring via forever21.com

Or a sweet, feminine scarf…

rosette scarf via bananarepublic.com

a pile of bangles is a good option….

mixed bangles via forever21.com

you could also consider investing in a beautiful pin (not just for your granny anymore)…

begonia pin via alexisbittar.com

2. Go old school. Another option when you just can’t find anything good at the conventional stores is to shop vintage.

Buffalo Exchange- a great beginner vintage option

Truthfully, I don’t shop vintage shops or thrift stores often, because I get kind of grossed out by them. However, I have found some really brilliant pieces at various second-hand shops before, so it’s still worth looking. The nice thing about buying vintage is, obviously, no one else will have the same item as you. Much more special! I usually have better luck buying vintage coats or skirts versus tops or pants. It still never hurts to check out the whole store.

3. Re-invest in some quality basics. Buy a great new white button-up shirt, or a gorgeous pair of black pumps.

black pumps via zappos.com

It will really take your other clothes to the next level. Remember: basic doesn’t have to mean boring. It’s all about the quality, the details, and the fit. Those three selling points can make even the dullest of items feel luxurious, and in turn, multiply the outfits you have in your repertoire by serving as the anchor for some of your statement pieces.

4. Find new inspiration. This is what I did when I hit my shopper’s block last week, and I’ll share how I got re-inspired next post!

Taurus the Bull is grounded, earthy, stubborn, persistent, practical, creative, security conscious, and very sensual. Ruling our sense of hearing ~ Taurus hears the call of the muse and the tinkle of the coin.

Taurus signifies our resources (what we have) and our values (what we believe in). Sometimes they’re the same ~ and sometimes, they’re not. Sometimes we deny them, give them up, or perhaps they are taken from us by circumstances. If we are true to our authentic selves, we will not lose site of them or fail to honor them. Not for anything.

If you read my post on Selene, you may remember that I said I preferred her as the Goddess of the Moon rather than Diana. Well…when it comes to Full Moon in Taurus, I just might have to do a little wafting on that. The Hunter’s Moon is the perfect depiction of the sublime partnership between Venus and Diana, Goddess of the Hunt, who later took on a moon goddess role.

This Full Moon received the name, Hunter’s Moon, because it enabled hunters to press on into the night to capture game for the feast that would follow ~ a mark of a secure winter reserve. When things have been reduced to their bare minimum, we must find that we have held on to the one or two things that will sustain us. 

This Full Moon brings an opportunity to explore the valued ~ and hunted ~  in our lives. The Taurus Moon asks a very important question:

What do you value in yourself?

The Full Moon in Taurus will always appear during Scorpio since Full Moons always show us oppositions to the Sun. Taurus sites a trophy in Scorpio’s house ~ there is at least one great trophy to be targeted and claimed now. Use this Full Moon to discover what you value most. Scope it. Site it. Know where it is. When it comes time to draw your arrow, you may discover that you have Diana’s accuracy in this hunt, or you learn that your mark is a bit off.

A big question to ask yourself before letting the arrow fly is, “Is this target what I thought it was?” It is important not to be fooled by your own moonlight (or your passing passions) and to remain persistent in your hunt.

Where is Taurus in your chart? Wherever it is, it signifies a part of your life that needs security while at the same time requiring a lushness that is hard to find anywhere else.

Where is Venus? Wherever she is in your chart, know that she is singing a song made only for your ears. Listen to that song, and be sure you understand the lyrics.

Diana was frequently depicted with a deer or hunting dogs. Though she herself remained chaste and virgin (and required it of her nymphs), she was, nevertheless, the goddess and protector of pregnant women and children. She took no lovers. She guarded what she valued most ~ herself ~ and would not be  compromised.

Diana and Actaeon ~ Giuseppe Cesari

There’s an interesting story associated with Diana and the hunter, Actaeon. He accidentally stumbled upon her while she was bathing, which really angered her. It’s important to understand that he was not spying on her, not stalking her. It was an accident. A bit of Scorpionic revenge erupted in Diana, and she turned the unsuspecting hunter into a stag and allowed his own dogs to kill him. In the painting, you can see that he has already sprouted antlers. Click on the painting to get a closer look.

Even though we’re living through Scorpio days now, the goal of this Hunter’s Moon is not to take quick revenge as Diana did. The goal is to target what it is that is most valuable to you ~ what it is that gives you security and is a voice from which you cannot turn away. When everything else has been stripped away, this is the one thing that you will not let anyone take from you. It’s your dignity, your core self.

Well, hello old blog. Haven’t seen you in weeks! Truthfully, dear readers, I’ve been so busy.

First, I had to spend some serious time contemplating if the jade nail trend is for me.

Jade nails at Chanel, where the frenzy started

I decided it is, but as the true jade polish (seen below) isn’t available, I’ve been searching for a suitable substitute.

The real jade polish-so pretty!

Next, and far more time consuming, I ran into a conundrum finding a good skinny jean. The thing is, I have loads of nice skinnies, but I needed some I could wear daily, to go for walks, than can get rained on and muddy, or worn to a rock show and get just gross without having a heart attack over ruined spendy denims. Usually you can get some at Marshalls, TJ Maxx, or the like for around $10-$15 but they just weren’t there.

Then I stumbled upon this little tutorial…..and this successful adult-jeans version. Perfect! The only problem…..I don’t own  a sewing machine. Can you believe it?! All my DIY fashion fixes are done….very slowly. By hand. With lots of errors and mis-matched thread (Just keepin’ it real).

My by-hand, circa 1800s solution would simply not work for this project as I really can’t see myself hand-stitching denim, only to rip out the seams when they aren’t perfect and start all over, followed by zigzag stitching the edges….UGH! No way.  Thankfull,y a very generous woman loaned me her Janome 3022 machine for a few days and I went crafty-bananas.

I’m thrilled to say that not only was the DIY skinny jean experiment a great success, it was super simple. And quick! I whipped through four pairs of old boot-cut jeans that were lying around and going un-worn. I’ll post the pictures once I figure out how to get them off our fancy SLR that I am very intimidated by.

After finishing that project I went on to fix other items in my closet; un-done hems, hacking inches off of skirts and dresses, turning turtlenecks into scoop-necks (twice). Did you know you can pretty much use a zigzag stitch on knits instead of needed a serger?! For my very simple purposes, it worked great!

I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without a sewing machine. I almost cried when I returned it. Since then, I’ve been hunting for the very model I borrowed as it was so easy to use. So, sorry to have been neglectful, but you can expect lots more fun, easy, DIY posts in the future!

Happy crafting to all!

Happy Halloween

Above is Herne doing his job as the “Leader of the Hunt”. It is a great way the ancients in the north looked at the world.

I live near a place with so many echoes of Halloween time as it used to be. Everywhere has echoes of an ancient landscape.  We have a temple which once led to the Underworld. A place where souls of the dead gathered once a year when the power of the sun has diminished, and it hangs in the trees. From there people are taken to paradise. People say they have seen ghosts.

 

http://twitter.com/lookman_author/lookman

Ancient pre-Christian temple

I think D’Angelo thinking that We-Bey was about of kill him at the end but instead walking into a room with fishes is symbolic for “swimming with the fishes”, whether Dee is the one dying or not.

People, power, and politics, that is what this episode was dominated by. Kima survived, thank God, and now everyone is just looking for a way to make everything look as under control as possible. This is when police work has to be at it’s best because once a cop gets shot, a case hits the fan and everything shuffles around. We have officials getting into the picture trying to use the case to their political advantage, officials who don’t actually grieve the loss of an officer. I am so proud of McNulty for pointing out Rhonda’s ultimate flaw, conforming to corruption in order to move up the ladder. It is blatantly obvious that the lawyer from Barksdale’s crew is corrupt, I stated that in episode 1. He’s such a loser and a low life yet no one steps to him because if they piss him off, they ultimately get blacklisted. The Judge won’t help McNulty because he finally got put on the ballot for re-election and he knows messing with McNulty and doing the right thing won’t benefit him. It really is all about “Who’s your Daddy” and everyone doing favors for each other. And I’m not just talking about the show, I mean in the real world. I am keeping in mind that this show was released after 9-11 and that politicians and police were working hand in hand to progress and maintain the trust of the people. So the more politicians and police seem to be getting along and having things under control, the more people feel comfortable in their society, thus not questioning anything.

What is repulsive is how someone can get away with shooting a cop or how the slightest thing like the fact that they were going to give Oralndo baking soda instead of real drugs, so the most they can be charged is 3 years and a 5,000 dollar fine. I know there’s the whole “innocent until proven guilty ” factor, but some things are simply obvious. And so Kima gets no justice.

5/5 because as angry as I was throughout the episode, my anger was provoked by the realism of the situation. I like that at the time that this was released, police were on a pedestal because of 9-11 and it makes you step back into reality and remember that corruption still existed, even if the nation was in trauma. I think it’s important that shows that are realistic reflect society as it truly is in that period of time so that the show has more meaning. And besides all the political stuff, there was some solid police work done on Freamon’s behalf, making sure not to lose focus even though someone important just got hit.

I have the utmost fabulous idea (that perhaps I stole from Gossip Girl 2 weeks ago).

I’m going to design a scavenger hunt: a New York scavenger hunt, no less. I lovingly call this project ’scavenger hunt’ because ‘to-do list’ is far more negatively connoted (corporate America people, corporate America).

I’ve been making a running list for over a year now for things that I want to do in New York. The problem is, I forget about 95% of them. It’s an urban situation, I think: email your friends about something crazy you want to do in the city; make a plan; forget about it 2 days later.

Well. Not. Anymore.

Prepare to be awakened by the downtown New York City underground. There will be speakeasies. There will be hidden restaurants. There will be back streets, cigarette smoke, high heels in the rain, and cocktail-induced conversations.

First one will be next week.

 Hey, I got some good pics from The Hunt this past weekend…looks like it was a good time…keep sending in your pics to thenewloon@yahoo.com and I will add them to the site

Night air sticky under full-moon haze,
and she’s in heat.
She feels it coming,
writhes and thrashes in her bed –
No need to prowl for meat tonight,
Her victim
          will crawl
                     to her.

Her instincts serve her well;
There’s a stirring just outside
and heavy lids metamorphose into bedroom eyes
when she poises her regal body to investigate.
She opens up enough to see who’s stumbled to her den,
But she’s measured in her movements –
the stumbling are wounded,
and a wounded catch so fresh with fear, is liable to run.

Ahhhh, he’s just a boy
who’s come to her
so blissfully aware that she intends
to tear at his body
       — deep –
to leave him trembling
               — hard –
and watch him gasping
                              – gone.

Well, here’s to an easy hunt.

Teeth bared as faces meet and heads rear back,
Exposing necks as each inhales the other’s scent.
A few seconds of pawing,
Slinking circles around one another,
Licking, biting
Go for the neck, and you have the kill.

He’s down.

Well it’s that time of year once again.  The leaves have started to turn, there is a chill in the air, all roads lead to Far Hills, New Jersey and The Hunt.  If you have no idea what I’m talking about, The Hunt is an annual steeplechase horse racing event, but it’s really just a massive tailgate.  If you combined giants stadium’s parking lot on game day with Martha’s Vineyard you have an idea what this is all about.  There will be smokeshows everywhere wearing their best equestrian shit, skin tight jeans, riding boots, basically preppy hot.  Dudes with popped Polo shirts and loafers doing keg stands and shotgunning beers will be a common sight.  Sloppy drunks falling in the mud, and IT WILL BE MUDDY, will be much of the entertainment.  This is THE place to be this saturday.  You will see everyone you have ever known at any point in your life, if you’re a chick you will run into every guy you’ve ever banged.  It’s a day to reconnect and most importantly, to get shit faced.  So hop on a train, get in your cars, and head to Far Hills this saturday!  It’s going to be a fucking disaster…oh and there’s horse racing too.

P.S. Send all pictures from The Hunt to thenewloon@yahoo.com and I’ll post them next week…I want to see smokeshows and lots of them…any good drunken behavior is great too!

For information about The Hunt here is the link to the website: The Hunt!

And next year look for The Loon’s spot at The Hunt…we will be there with a sponsor handing out free shit and getting rowdy