Guest Author Lucy Woodhull

You’re Either with Us or Against Us


There are many great debates in life: Liberal vs. Conservative; Catholicism vs. Scientology; and, most importantly, pie vs. cake. For pie people, the crust is king. Cake lovers need no such flaky embellishments. The pie vs. cake question has divided sorrowful nations and households for too long! What is the answer? Hell if I know. I'm just a writer.

The hero and heroine in my romantic comedy space opera RAGNAR AND JULIET face just such a harrowing conflict. Sure, they're being chased by a psychotic king who enjoys imprisoning sex slaves in his spare time and stuffing the dead bodies of his enemies into artful poses, but what is that compared with the age-old animosity that cake lovers have faced from their crust-loving foe?

Juliet, a bounty hunter, bakes pies for fun. It's about the only typically "girly" thing she does, besides wear the most gravity-defying push-up bras known to Human-kind (or any species-kind). She makes a superb cherry pie, and her budding romance with Ragnar almost comes to a screeching halt when he declares himself a cake man. That's not the worst thing a romance hero can say on the first date (that would probably be "My genital bumps are no big deal. The doc says they'll go away in a month or two, tops!" or "Don't you think you've had enough fried cheese sticks?"), but it's close. Good thing Ragnar and Juliet have the super-hot-to-trots for each other, or yet another love would be torn asunder by baked goods. When will the madness end?!

Where do you come down on the great pie vs. cake debate? Would you be willing to date inter-dessert-ly? And is cheesecake a cake or a pie?

Personally, my name is Lucy Woodhull, and I am a cake girl. I had to take a huge leap of faith in creating a "pie" heroine because pies are so very inferior to cakes in every possible way. My husband's favorite dessert is a pumpkin pie. I know. WTF, right? But I love him anyway. He's got a great butt, and if that's not as important as chocolate cake, then the world just doesn't make sense.

Tell me your cake (or pie, I guess) story in the comments. Leave it anonymously if you fear retribution from the horrible pie people. I'll pick my favorite defense of cake or pie (and yes, I can be fair in my judgment. Mostly.) and that person will win a free copy of RAGNAR AND JULIET.

If you’d like to buy my book (and I think that’s a wise decision), it's available from Liquid Silver Books (http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/books/ragnarandjuliet.htm). Here's a short blurb and a link to a sample.



RAGNAR AND JULIET

Bounty hunting is usually so easy. Flash a little cleavage, mix a roofie cocktail, and Juliet has her man right where she wants him: out cold, ready to be swapped for cash. Her passions are freedom, trashy clothes, and pie -- not necessarily in that order.

Hunky alien ship captain Ragnar doesn't deserve torture at the hands of the psychotic king who hired Juliet; he liberated one of William the Nefarious' illegal concubines. Juliet can't ignore such a noble act. She doesn’t trust men, but this one, with the kindest smile she's ever seen, picks away at her resolve to stay aloof and clothed. He's just so...nice! Crazy she can deal with; sincerity is terrifying.

Before she gives in to her irrational urge to get a timeshare with him (and his cute tail), they're caught by the bad guys. Ragnar disappears and abandons her to her disgusting captors -- so much for togetherness. Perhaps he’s not such a saint. Even worse, Nefarious William (who prefers "Bob") has nominated her for Concubine of the Evening. This dubious honor does not thrill her, and only a few hours remain before the king’s mind-altering drugs obliterate her free will.

Sexual slavery might not be fatal, but Juliet would rather die. Of course, the third option (run away to a beach and hump Ragnar silly) is the best, if they can live that long.



Thank you so much, Killer Fiction, for hosting me today!


Yours in Cake Solidarity,

Lucy Woodhull
http://www.lucywoodhull.com/
http://www.liquidsilverbooks.com/

The Sunfire Series

A couple of days ago on the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood loop, a bunch of us were talking about the first romances we ever read. I will admit I can't remember what the first adult romance I read was, but for some reason, this whole discussion made me remember this fabulous historical romance YA series called "Sunfire."

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sunfire_%28series%29

I'd actually forgotten it was a YA series, but authors Vivi Andrews, Addison Fox, and Liz Bemis set me straight. The email thread turned into one big reminiscence as we all named our favorite heroine (mine was Heather, the spunky New York Colonial girl from 1665, but I also really enjoyed the book set during the San Francisco earthquake about a girl named Nora).

The premise of the series was simple. The series was written by a group of authors. Each book featured a teenage girl who was present during a particular notable historical event. She was always torn between two potential suitors, and the book cover were total spoilers...once you knew the pattern. The cover would feature the heroine flanked by both guys, and the one she was smiling lovingly at (or even touching) was always the one she gave the boot to in the end. The true hero of the love triangle was always brooding in the background on the cover, yet for some reason I was always surprised. (Maybe because I was only 10 or 11 at the time while reading these. I hadn't read Pride & Prejudice yet.)

The titles were exceptionally clever: Amanda, Susannah, Elizabeth, Danielle, etc. ;) Considering as both my first name and middle name were both used as titles, can you guess why my mom originally bought me my first one? And I was immediately hooked. A romance reader for life!

I mean, really, how could you resist a book with this premise:
With only a silk dress to protect her from the blazing frontier sun, Amanda fears she will die on the Oregon Trail. As the memories of Boston, the nightly balls, and Joseph fade, the hardships of life on the wagon train fill her days. Changing from a spoiled city girl to a strong young woman, Amanda finds drought and death, beauty and joy, and a love that will last forever.

Between the "Sunfire" series, the "Satin Slipper" series (about teenage ballet students at the San Francisco ballet academy) and Sweet Valley High, I was definitely hooked on 1980s YA romance. :)

Anyway, Liz Bemis noticed that although the series has been out of print since the 80s, apparently you can still find used copies on Amazon. So I am proud to say that sometime next week I will be devouring the Sunfire series once again! I hope they're just as good nearly 25 years later. :)

Do you have a favorite YA series from your youth that is out of print now, but you have a yearning to re-read? What was the first romance, either YA or adult, that you ever read?

Narcissism Is The New Black

A while back NPR reported on a study which proved that the lyrics in popular music has become increasingly narcissistic over the last 25 years. In 1985 the #1 song was We Are The World. Now it seems like at least half the songs that are playing on the radio include lyrics that let us all know how fabulous the musical artists who are performing them are. It's easy to spot the trend, from Timberlake who claims to be Bringing Sexy Back to Taio Cruz and Ludacris who are going to Break Your Heart...but that's apparently forgivable because Ludacris doesn't "think there's anybody as bomb" as he is so we need to feel blessed that he's giving us any attention at all.

I asked my Facebook and Twitter followers what they thought about the issue and I got a lot of responses, many of which blamed the rise of narcissism in our pop-culture on the self-aggrandising nature of social media.  Others pointed out that narcissism is the foundation of most reality TV.

All that's true but I think the most interesting thing about this pop-culture phenomenon is not that it's on the rise, it's that the public seems to crave it. When I was a teen MTV's The Real World was the big reality show. It topped out at 5.5 million viewers.  The Real World San Francisco featured a man named Padro, who was gay and living with AIDS. He became a cultural icon and when he died the President actually issued a statement mourning our nation's loss and thanking him for helping to raise AIDS awareness.

Now MTV's big reality show is Jersey Shore which averages 8.9 million viewers. That's particularly impressive when you consider that The Real World had much less competition than Jersey Shore has (back in the Real World days of my youth most of us didn't have 500 channels and 2 television sets). And who are the Jersey Shore break-out stars? They're the most narcissistic of the bunch. Snooki and The Situation. And yes, we say it's because we like to laugh at them, and some of us do. But the we-just-watch-for-kicks-and-giggles argument sort of went out the window when Rutgers University paid her a $32,000 appearance fee to do a Q and A with their students. And then there are the Real Housewives. The more selfish their behavior the more likely they are to make it on the cover of US Weekly and that's not because US Weekly loves the Real Housewives, it's because they know that enough of us love them to justify plastering their picture on a cover. Many point out that viewers like to look down their noses at reality show stars and that doing so makes them feel like their own lives are more together than they once thought. I can't entirely disagree with that but I think there's more to it.

As for the music, well I'll be the first to admit that I love a lot of those narcissistic songs. When you dance, sing or simply blast them from your car stereo they no longer belong to the musical artists who created them, they belong to you. And therefore those narcissistic lyrics feel personally empowering. And although I'm not a Jersey Shore or Real Housewives fan maybe those who are are driven by similar motivations.  After all most of us wouldn't run around acting like a drunk diva (à la Snooki) or as selfishly as one of those bleach blonde Orange County housewives. But maybe part of us wishes we could every once in a while.  Maybe we wish we could have a taste of that level of confidence and entitlement. Maybe that's always been the appeal of rock-n-roll. Yes, it's true that Mick Jagger has never gotten on the stage, grabbed the mic and screamed, "There's nobody as bomb as me."

But he sure as hell implied it. And his badass energy continues to infect those of us who tune into it.

And we loove him for it.

Kyra "Fashionista Fatale" Davis

The Woods are Lovely, Dark & Deep...

It's that time again! I took my troop camping - 8th year in a row!

You guys know me. Every year, I take these girls to the local girl scout camp for three days and two nights of dirt, bugs and outdoor fun. This year, I happened to take 10, 13 year olds and 1, 14 year old. Nothing says peace and quiet like newly minted teenagers. My co-leaders couldn't go. But this tradition means a lot to the girls. Besides, I've missed my sister's wedding and 25th high school reunion to keep it going so I wasn't about to start blowing it off now.

Many of you might think that sounds a bit insane, and I assure you...it is. Sure, the girls wanted to do A LOT more cooking than normal, and sure, they were hyper giggly and obnoxious, but I was going to do it anyway.

Friday night was alright. We all slept in the lodge's loft. Well, I'm using the word "slept" as a euphemism for "didn't sleep at all." But you get the idea. In hindsight, it might've been a bad idea to have them all bring an item of junk food for the first night. But eventually, the sugar crash kicked in and all was well.

Saturday we hiked out to the lake for some canoeing. It was a gorgeous day and I think the girls didn't see me sleeping standing up on the pier. The sky turned kinda dark though, so we put everything away and raced back to camp - uphill the whole way. It started to downpour when we were about 100 yards from the lodge. Everyone made it but me and the kid who'd just had a hip replacement. She outran me.

You'd think the rain would've bummed them out - but after a feast of tacos and quesadillas, they ran right out into the rain and played. I had 11 soaking wet girls, laughing and muddy all borrowing MY towel for some reason.

The rain stopped and Mr. Assassin showed up so we went to the pool to practice rescuing each other in canoes. You've never lived until you've tried to tell teenagers how to haul their friends into a canoe.

Me: "Grab her under her arms and pull her up..."

Girl: "Ewww! Touch her armpits? No way!"

Me: "You can't pull her in by holding her pinkys like that. You need to grab her and haul her over the side of the canoe."

Girl: "I am NOT touching her like that."

Me: "So, the alternative is that she drowns..."

Girl: "I'd rather drown than have someone grabbing me inappropriately!"

And so it went.We swam in the rain, did archery in the rain and roasted hot dogs and s'mores in the rain. That night, I was heading up to the loft and the girls squealed at me to go back downstairs.

Me: "What? Why?"

Girls: (in creepy, Children-of-the-corn like unison) "We're talking about girl stuff!"

Me: "I'm a girl."

Girls : "No! It's like, almost a woman stuff!"

Me: "I'm a woman."

Girls: "EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

It rained all night but the next morning was gorgeous. So we hit the zip line. We bridged the 14 year old into Senior Scouts with candles and by sending her first. The girls begged me to stay another night, but I must admit - the idea made me want to kill them all. I politely declined.

That was Labor Day Weekend. And I'm still exhausted.

Alpha Dog versus Alpha Mama

It happened a little over a month ago. And by “it,” I mean war. A war of wills, a war of power, a war over the Top-Dog title. I was stunned. I’ve never been one to walk around wearing my tiara. I do not particularly care for elitism. I’m perfectly happy with anyone being my equal. I actually prefer it that way. Ahh, but I learned the only thing I hate worse than someone attempting to bow down to me, is someone trying to make me bow down to them. And when that someone is a seventy-five pound dog, I have a big problem.

Rex, my son’s dog, has always exhibited a strong will and a mind of his own. I’ve always respected the fact that when he had his raw-hide bone, he didn’t want anyone to attempting to take it away from him. I sort of get that way when I have my Weight Watcher’s dessert. They are so small, and so good. I don’t want to share. And I’ve been known to growl if someone comes at me with a spoon when I’m trying to savor that tiny bit of heaven. (Just ask hubby or my son.)

However, the war wasn’t ignited over my Peanut Butter Cup sundae and not even over Rex’s bone. It was a bed. You see, the air conditioner went out in our house. My office, which is connected to the house, has a separate air conditioning unit. So while we waited to get a new a/c unit installed, hubby brought a mattress down and we slept in my study. My son happened to be out of town that week, so the arrangement worked out fine.

Rex slept on his doggy bed in the living room. But in the mornings, when I went to get coffee, Rex would storm into my office and snuggle up on the mattress with my hubby, the stand-in master, since his real master was out of town.

At first, I found it kind of funny that when I’d walk by the mattress and Rex would sort of growl at me as if to say… “This is the big dog’s bed.” But when his growl became a bit aggressive, it was no longer so funny or cute. Who did this animal think he was? Or better yet, who did he think I was?

Yes, I know that when he stands on his back legs, he’s over six feet tall, which means he was quite a bit taller than me. And having recently hit his one-year birthday, he considered himself a man. Oh, and because the two men in the household couldn’t bear the idea of removing Rex’s boys, Rex still had tons of testosterone running through his canine veins. A quick check on the Internet and I discovered that it was not uncommon for an unneutered dog to maintain a pack mentality and attempt to become the aggressor of the person he sees as the weakest link in the household.

Poor Rex hadn’t been around long enough to know the truth. Which is…When Mama isn’t happy, nobody’s happy! Plainly put, the Bitch is the queen of her doghouse, and you don’t piss off mama. We had a family meeting, excluding Rex, where I suggested Rex’s family jewels needed to be pickled and canned. You should have seen my two men, cupping their boys as if the mere mention caused them pain. Both son and hubby insisted that all Rex needed was some training. Not wanting to be the evil woman, I agreed to give the less evasive treatment a chance before the pickling began.

So son went and signed up Rex and his boys to Man’s Best Friend. Now, before he could go in for his intense training, he needed his last shot. So . . . off to the vet Hubby and Son went to get their manly dog his shot.

So picture the scene. Here’s Hubby and Son with their manly dog in a small vet’s office. In comes in a soft-spoken petite female vet. Can you guess what happened? Yup, Rex growled at her in an aggressive way as if to say… “Hey, me and my bros are hanging in here and you aren’t welcome.” She took one look at my two men and said, “That dog needs his balls pickled and canned.” Well, to be fair, she didn’t say it just like that, but it was close.

Now, since we’re using dog metaphors, can you imagine how my two men came home with their tails tucked between their legs when they had to tell me that . . . “Uh, the vet agreed with you.”

So the next day, poor Rex went under the knife. And when he came back, let’s just say he was a little shocked with what he left behind and what he brought with him. They had to put a cone collar around his neck to protect the incision. Now…still drugged when he came home, he didn’t seem to know where the collar began and ended. The poor dog couldn’t walk through the living room without getting caught on something. Son and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Hubby didn’t think it was so funny. “Hey, he’s in pain. Don’t laugh at him.” Then he looked at Rex and said, “I know how you feel. She made me get a vasectomy.” Then he looked at my son and said, “Whatever you do, boy, don’t piss off your mama.”

So to summarize the outcome of this war, this battle of wills, let me give you the score. Alpha dog, zero. Alpha Mama, two. (Or if you consider Hubby’s comment, maybe I should say, Mama, four.) And after a few weeks when the testosterone is flushed out of Rex’s system, if he still exhibits any aggressive tendencies, he’s off to Man’s Best Friend. Hey . . . I’ll always respect his bone if he’ll respect my Peanut Butter Cup sundae. And I’ll forego wearing my tiara, but nobody growls as mama in her own home.

So, what about you guys? Any of you have pet trouble? Have you ever had a dog try to fight you for your Alpha title?

CC

Better Days Ahead! by Diane Kelly

With the tenth anniversary of 9/11 having just passed, many of us are feeling somber. That horrifying day will never be forgotten, nor will the people who perished.

I admit that I dread hearing the sad stories on the news. I listen reluctantly, out of respect for those who were directly touched by that day’s events. I find it all unbearably heartbreaking. I want to pretend that day never happened. But of course, I can’t. None of us can.

Among the many thoughts I had that day, I distinctly remember thinking This is not the world I wanted for my children. Having a father in the military as I grew up made me acutely aware of the threats we faced as a nation, at the time from Russia and the Iron Curtain countries. Growing up in the Cold War Era gave us a constant, underlying sense of fear that I had hoped my children could avoid.

No such luck.

Still, as hard as it is with these freshly re-opened emotional wounds, I am bound and determined to be positive. So, on that note, I’m going to share my list of things that I am glad have changed in our world so that it is, in many ways, a better place for our kids than it was for us.

1. Respect for women. Women are recognized for our skills and hard work and are now seen as much more than just baby-makers and housekeepers (at least here in the U.S. We’re still working on it in some other places.)

2. Animal rights. Our fellow creatures are getting more respect as well, and many laws have been enacted to protect both wildlife and domestic pets.

3. Creative opportunities. The internet has opened up vast new opportunities for people to create, whether it be stories, videos, or art, and to share their creations with the world.

4. Medical advances. Vast strides have been made in medical care. Treatments now exist for diseases that would not long ago have been fatal or debilitating.

5. The rise of the Beta male. Men aren’t expected to be macho sh*theads anymore. They can actually express their feelings and not be deemed wimps for doing so.

6. Individuality. Cookie-cutter personalities are going out the window as we come to recognize that there is no one ideal person we should all strive to be. People are more free to express their individuality without fear of intolerance or rejection.

7. Cultural interaction. As it becomes easier and less costly to travel internationally, we are better able to experience and understand other cultures.

What are your thoughts on today’s world? In what ways do you think it’s better than the world of your youth? What things do you think will be even better for our children’s kids?

Our new house!

I’m lame.  I should have had a blog all prewritten and ready to post today.  But I don’t.  Because my brains is totally fried from… wait for it… moving!  Yes, we finally found a fabulous house and we’ve spent all week taking car loads of stuff back and forth, meeting with handy-men, carpet cleaners, painters, cable guys, and A/C people (we got A/C installed – yaaay!).    

I’ll post a full picture tour later… once you can see anything but boxes in the photos… but for now here are a couple rooms you can kinda see past the boxes. 

This is the FABULOUS deck off the side of the house.  I think we’ll be doing most of our living here.   We’re up a little hill, so we have a great view of downtown San Jose at night, and gorgeous trees surrounding us.  It’s almost like living in the mountains, only we’re juts two minutes from downtown.  (And, yes, that is Baby Boy’s Harley Davidson big wheels in the shot.  The man couldn’t resist buying it now that we have somewhere outside for Baby Boy to play.) 

And this one is our kitchen.  If you ignore the boxes, you can kinda see the beautiful stone counter tops and farmhouse cabinets.  Very clean and bright.  It’s the only functional room we have right now. I love it!

 Okay, off to put together the Big Boy’s desk so he can do his homework tonight.  Have a great weekend everyone.  I know what mine will be spent on… unpacking!  

~Trigger Happy Halliday