Monday, March 30, 2015

Tuesday Tales...Is That a Mug in Your Pocket?

This month is flying by while I do my best to get a glimpse of each day.  It's already time for another installment of TT. This week our group writes to the word prompt, "mug".
"I can't get enough of your ugly mug.” I found Finn’s mismatched coffee cup collection irresistibly cute. Clasped between my hands, the heat of morning coffee had nothing on the warmth of my heart.
“I don’t think I’ve ever made coffee for a girl before.”
“Aww…one of those things you really shouldn’t say out loud though. Not to the girl you just made coffee for.” I had to bust his balls a little, I didn’t know how to play the part of lovey dovey morning after.
“We’re both walking in unfamiliar territory. I like being on an equal playing field with you.”
Waking up to Finn’s tousled hair in my face beat just about any perfect sunrise I’d ever seen. My awareness of femininity tripled in his naked morning after presence. Feeling beautiful didn’t always come easily wearing my many hats, and I’d certainly never felt delicate. Yet, that morning, covered only with a sheet, entwined with Finn’s virile limbs, delicate was the only word coming to mind. “I like this.” Maybe someday I’d become articulate, however, chances weren’t good.
“My shyness tells me how right the past twenty-four hours have been. I take none of this for granted, it’s crazy amazing how good I feel.” Finn gently tapped his fingers against my cup.
“Should we…”
“No, we enjoy this entire day, then tomorrow, then the next day. If we need to figure out anything along the way, we do it.”
“But, what if…”
“No buts, either, Dan, we crossed the line in the sand. I’m holding you to the promises your body made to me.”

 Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of "mug".

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Vegas, you say? Vegas! She says! Meet Amanda Ward!!!

Getting plastered at a wedding is the sign a good time has been had, but not when it’s the bride!

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! Today in The Locker we have the lovely Amanda Ward, my friend from "across the Pond". This week we celebrate the release of her newest title, Viva Pann Vegas!  Viva is the sequel to the quirky fun of The MisAdventures of Pann Haggerty.

The fun and games continue as Pann Haggerty travels around America with her ‘average’ Joe on their way to Las Vegas.  This time, Joe thinks he’s the one in charge, and able to handle his beloved quirky English rose.  
Apparently not.  
Surprises, secrets and wedding bells are in store.  Has Pann given Joe the answer to his big question? Read on in the second MisAdventure of Pann Haggerty. Laugh at Pann’s antics, thrill to the romance, indulge in copious mugs of tea and try out the delicious recipes! Above all…enjoy.

Excerpt One-

“You know, Pann, this hand would look so much nicer with…”
“Don’t go down that route, Joe,” Pann scolded him. “I said I would give you an answer when I knew what it was. Why, are you feeling insecure, Joe?”
The waitress came back, pouring Joe his thick, syrup-like coffee and placing a tall frosted glass of pink milkshake, topped with whipped cream and a fresh strawberry, on the table.
Pann chuckled. What was this, a drink or dessert?
“Yes, I am,” Joe replied eventually, after taking a sip from his mug. “You are the only woman I’ve asked to marry me, and you won’t give me a definite yes or no. It feels like I’m being led around by the short and curlies.”
“Joe,” Pann admonished through gritted teeth. He sounded rather like her, and one certainly did not mention pubic hair in a dining establishment.
“Well what do you expect, Pann? I love you, and you say you love me. I can’t understand why you are dragging this on.”


“Dragging this on?” Her lips thinned with annoyance. “Joel. We are at a diner surrounded by others eating. This isn’t really the place to have this conversation.” She was trying to no avail to keep her voice calm.
“Shall we go back to the van and talk there?” Joe suggested. “I’ll make tea?”
“Sounds better than shivering in the sunshine, I guess.”
As they walked toward the van, Joe placed his arm around her shoulders. Instinctively she snuggled into his warmth, breathing in his fragrant masculine scent.  Pann placed her arm around his waist, and on impulse, her hand covered his jean clad bottom.  As she squeezed it, Pann smiled an impish grin.
“Wrong pocket, Pann.”
“I beg your pardon?” She tilted her head back to look at Joe.
“If you are after my wallet, it’s in the other pocket,” Joe quipped.  

Pandora Haggerty, sorry…Harper sat in the back of the ambulance in a wheelchair all forlorn and feeling decidedly sorry for herself. Her plastered right leg was elevated, and despite Joe’s hand resting on hers comforting her, Pann’s spirits were low. She was jostled several times, wincing as the vehicle rode over several mountains in the road. Perhaps the pain medication was wearing off. Avoiding looking out the window, Pann kept her gaze on Joe’s steadfast one and the gleaming rings of gold that adorned her left hand. Beside her on the floor lay several packages, and from what she could make out, there was a Zimmer frame ready to be constructed.
“A zimmer frame, my arse,” Pann grumbled.
“What was that, darlin’?”
“Just talking out loud,” she murmured.
“Are you in any pain, honey?”
Pann shook her head. “Actually I’m starting to feel like a total prat,” she told him bluntly. “I cannot believe I managed to break my sodding ankle, and now I’m totally reliant on someone else to help me do everything. And I am not using a sodding Zimmer frame. What do they think I am, an elderly geriatric?” Then, turning her head…she noticed a chair behind her.
“That’s not a commode is it?” She asked incredulously in a high squeak. Joe nodded.
“You have to be taking the royal piss,” she exclaimed.
“No, that’s what the commode is for. So that you can—” Joe’s voice broke off.
“No chuffing way am I using a commode.”
“The doctor said you had to stay off that leg. This way you can use the toilet by simply lifting yourself from one chair to another,” he said soothingly.
Pann’s temper finally got the better of her. Humiliation, frustration and that nagging ache from her leg took over her usually sane-ish temperament. She squeezed Joe’s hand digging her nails in, almost breaking the skin. At this point, she really didn’t care if she hurt him or not. She was hurting. Why couldn’t he sympathize? It really wasn’t fair.
Pann sat complacently as Joe wheeled her into the now widened doorway of their motorhome. A strange smell assailed her nostrils. What on earth…could she smell?
“There’s a cat in here,” Pann announced, her eyes darting around the kitchen area. It had been widened for accessibility. As Joe closed the door, she caught a glimpse of a tray.
“What makes you think that?” Joe murmured, putting the brake on. He busied himself by putting the kettle on and preparing a drink for them.
“The litter tray behind me, and the two bowls on a mat just over there,” Pann pointed out. “You do know I still have a cat back in England, even if it is living with Mum now.” She sniffed again, wafting her hand in front of her nose. Several pots of fragrant violets lined the middle of the dining table. She hoped Joe had secured them with Velcro strips.
“Interesting and beautiful flowers, but no matter how many pots of violets you use, there is no cure for the niff of a farting feline,” she told him with a grin, using as many English terms as she could fit in. It was ridiculous, but in a way Joe had diffused her temper by diverting her attention onto something else. “So where is it?”
Joe put two steaming mugs on the table, fetched a plate of digestive biscuits and sat down next to her on the seat.
“Look up,” he suggested.
Pann’s head tilted back. On what had been her bed, two white fluffy paws and a nose with two black splotches were all she could see. All those awful feel sorry for herself feelings disappeared. Joe handed her the tea mug.
“So how did we end up with whats-his-face up there?”
“I have no idea. I picked up the van yesterday after the refit, and well, there he was,” Joe explained.
Joe nodded. “I took him to the vet with every intention of handing him to a rescue center, but, I don’t know. There was something about him. It turns out he is a pedigree Ragdoll.”
Pann melted. “The ones that go limp in your arms. They are so soft and fluffy…Oh, Joe. Look at the splotches on his cute little nosey. Bloody hell. Is that the cat?” Her nose wrinkled. “Oh God, that’s foul,” she breathed.
“There is nothing wrong with that cat’s stomach. Apparently, some cats are prone to gas and this is one of them I’m afraid.” Joe chuckled. “So are we gonna keep him? I had him vaccinated, micro chipped and everything.”
“What have you called him?”
“I thought I’d let you name him,” Joe replied with a smile. “It’s taken you out of your bad mood hasn’t it?”
“Yes, you rat, it has.” Pann couldn’t take her eyes off the two fluffy paws and now emerging face over the edge of what had been her bed. “I’m still not using that commode, you know.”

Amanda Ward lives in Bedfordshire, England with her husband, three children and two insane cats. The expression ‘What you see is what you get’, sums her up perfectly.
She is the author of the novel Without Saying A Word with Books To Go Now and The MisAdventures of Pann Haggerty with Secret Cravings Publishing.  She is a member of the Romance Novelists Association
(RNA).  There is always some moment waiting around the corner to be written into a novel.

Her interests include a passion for history and the royal families of Europe, romance novels, cooking, and science fiction including Doctor Who.  Of course not forgetting the great and wonderful Doris Day musicals and English costume dramas.

A perfect afternoon for Amanda would be a pot of tea, plenty of biscuits with a Doris Day film on the telly. Shared with great friends and her amazingly tolerant mother in law. 
Find out more about Amanda and her manic life at

Contact Links:

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

BookRhythm It's a FRENZY!


Welcome to The Locker!!!!

I'm excited this month to be part of BookRhythm's March FLASH Frenzy. 

To enter all you need to do is comment below with your favorite character from one of my books.

Haven't read any of my books? I LOVE to meet new readers.  Check my page on Goodreads, get a little excerpt of any or all of your choosing!

What do you do in your spare time?-
I collect cookbooks, I love to cook and can foods, keep the birdfeeders full, try to keep my Netflix addiction under control, think about new tattoos, and keep up with my crazy family. I used to exercise and participate in triathlons, but, about 3 years ago I began getting sick. The doctors knew I had auto-immune diseases, but, it took a very long time and so many doctors to determine I have rheumatoid arthritis and Sjogrens Syndrome. Now, I do yoga at least twice a week and am adapting my life. I’m not ready to let diseases dictate my life, it’s about getting back to my normal.

Rafflecopter! FLASH FRENZY!

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Saturday, March 21, 2015

Guest Guest Guest! Be My Guest!!! Amanda Bretz....

Ahoy this beautiful first full day of #spring!  the #equinox happened yesterday in the Dallas area underneath a cloud-covered rainy day...but, I'll take it. Fill the lakes!

Today we have the amazing Amanda Bretz...she has a new release you just might like. 

take it away, Amanda!!

Thank you for hosting me on your blog today.

TKO of the Heart is a contemporary romance set in present day Miami South Beach.
The book is the first in a new sports romance trilogy called The Ladies of Athena’s Gym, which focuses on the romances that blossom between sexy heroes and athletic heroines.
When I set out to write this story in the fall of 2014, I wrote and submitted it for a publisher’s special call out for stories about bridesmaids finding true love at a wedding. Originally, this was a standalone novella—the story still does standalone and ends with a happily ever after—but after I sent the manuscript off, another idea started to take shape. I started thinking about the way most sports romances are series that center on male athletes and the non-athlete women who fall in love with them.
I wondered why a series can’t show that idea in reverse. Why can’t there be a series about professional women athletes who fall in love with non-athlete men?
While I waited to hear back from the publisher on the submission, I developed the series idea further and created an outline for books two and three. The publisher decided to pass on the story as it wasn’t a right fit for them, but by the time I learned of their decision, I was so in love with my characters and the trilogy idea that I didn’t let their rejection discourage me.

That’s the back story of how the series came to be, now here’s more about the characters. I chose to make the heroine of TKO of the Heart a bit unorthodox, a little tough, but with a tender, true heart. My main character, Frankie, is a female boxer and just as her name and profession implies, she’s no girly-girl shrinking violet. The man of her dreams actually starts out as a guy who she finds attractive, but supremely annoying. Gabe is a radio personality famous for being obnoxious and opinionated. Most of the time he has difficulty separating his on air image from his true personality and Frankie’s tough, no-nonsense exterior helps him examine that issue within himself.
I loved the playing with the “enemies to lovers” romance trope in this story. Sometimes under the layers of irritation and discontent, true passion can flourish. I had a lot of fun writing these two strong-willed characters and I hope readers love them as much as I do!

TKO of the Heart book blurb

Frankie “The Machine” Mancini knows how to bob and weave and recover from a left hook in the boxing ring. What she doesn’t know how to do? Be a bridesmaid. When her best friend Rachel calls on her to take part in her special day, Frankie reluctantly agrees. It’s not until she travels to the destination wedding in Miami that the real problem starts. The best man is none other than Gabe Boyd, a cocky, obnoxious radio personality who she thinks is determined to ruin her time in South Beach, but when the two are thrown together to resolve a wedding snafu, her view of the self-proclaimed “rogue of the radio” changes. Gabe shows her he has another side to him, he can be warm, caring and romantic. She can’t tell if his cocky demeanor is part of his on air persona or if he’s truly changed for her. Maybe the rules of the ring can be applied to matters of the heart. Stay on your toes. Always keep an eye on your opponent. Protect yourself.

TKO of the Heart releases Tuesday, March 17 and is available for pre-order on Amazon

About the author

In addition to being an author of contemporary, historical and erotic romance, Amanda Bretz holds a degree in communication from Florida Gulf Coast University in Fort Myers, Florida. She has worked as a journalist in both print and online news. Amanda writes romantic stories with a happy ending and invites readers to experience the rush of falling in love.
When not writing, Amanda can be found whipping up something delectable in her kitchen, spending time in nature or getting lost in a good book.
She resides in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband.

Does This Look Sexual to You? #Secretary

Ahoy  Fellow Fathomers! Happy Friday the 13th and Valentine's Day! I’m stuck inside for the majority of the day when I really should be exposing these reflector enhanced legs to some sunshine. Not that I tan well anyway, but I can at least achieve a muted shade of ivory over bright fluorescent white.
I will not voice an opinon either way on FSOG. I've read many books, some including BDSM elements, and I write books with some BDSM elements. Please know this blog embraces all books in the genre.

Since I’m inside, I can write to you all! So, today in The Locker, Jumping on the bandwagon, I decided to talk about the recent hullaballoo over the raging BDSM and erotic romance craze sweeping the globe.  Yep, if you are on this blog, chances are in my favor that you know what I’m talking about, you know this Fifty Shades of Grey thing.

I find it ironic that in one of my all time fave movies, Secretary, the lead male protagonist’s name is E. Edward Grey. Coincidence, hmmm, we will have to wonder if there is meant to be an underlying familiarity. I own a copy of Secretary, even bought a second when my first DVD disappeared. I've watched the movie countless times, can recite the dialogue, and LOVE the movie soundtrack. I also recently downloaded the movie on Google Play and watch on my Smart Phone. Yeah, I'm obsessed.

Three Days Waiting on Prince Charming- "Put your hands on the desk, palms down, and don't move until I get back."
Secretary resonated with me for many reasons. I first watched the movie while going through a divorce. I watched the movie and immediately, it spoke to me. (weird, maybe) But, Mr. Grey's law office was located on Ardmore Street. I worked in Ardmore, OK. I started counting all the coincidences and reasons I was meant to view this amazing film. Mr. Grey brought out the hidden confidence, beauty, and empowerment in Lee Holloway. Lee came to him broken, meek, self-deprecating. He loved her enough to help her shine.

If you enjoy or curious about this world, I encourage you to watch Secretary. No, there aren't the eye popping sex scenes. The mental display and devotion are enough to make me swoon. This movie gets down to the brass tacks.

 I wanted a new kind of freedom and found it in a dungeon club in Dallas. While my time there was limited, I found wonder and stomach dropping delight in what these folks were doing. It was so expressive, therapeutic, and awe-inspiring. Secretary the Movie
Worth the Wait, Absolutely

For fun, I opened up Google and typed in simply, BDSM- many more things popped up this time than they did about nine years ago when I first began checking it out. Yes, brutal truth here, I dabbled in The Lifestyle for a while and greatly enjoyed the experience. I learned many new and valuable aspects about myself. Most of the joy I practiced came mentally from private revelations and personal growth-all related to elements of BDSM play. Rotten Tomatoes Review Secretary

Wow, what a ride… However, my own experiences pale shamefully in comparison to what I really wanted to try. Most of my imagery comes strictly from the depths of my sometimes-twisted imagination.  When you read anything of mine, you will just have to wonder what I personally own and what I cooked up. ;)
My BDSM Book
It was around this timeframe, ten or so years ago, I began the outline for my book, Finless. As words took shape, I built it chapter by chapter until I had a workable novel. I added elements to surprise and intrigue that just may offend some readers, but, if it gets you thinking and talking, then, I’ve attained my goal with Finless.

Meeting Coach Dom Lola

A Dominatrix Takes Control In This Series
If I could share anything from my four decades on this planet, it would be encouragement for you. Read something new, research what fascinates you, and breathe new life into your lungs. Fathomers, take a chance, take a risk, try something new-a big, bold new world awaits and maybe it starts with just one sentence...

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Tuesday Tales and Love Birds...ahhh spring

Happy Spring Forward Tuesday Tales... Today, I present my current WIP, Love Birds

This week our group writes to the rather innocuous word, stair. I put a different spin on the usual meaning for their introduction...

"This looks more like a stair step.”
“You’re doing a great job. The birds will love it.”
This do-it-yourself birdhouse looked more like a rectangle shipping box. I can’t believe my cousin talked me into this ridiculous party. “Terri, why did I let you drag me to this?”
“Because you sit home every night watching romantic comedies and drinking your habitual one glass of sweet wine. You gotta get out of that apartment.”
Positioning the nail just right, I poised my hammer to take aim. Raring back, I hit hard- much harder than I should. Especially since the nail dropped out of the little hole leaving my thumb exposed. “Holy shit that hurt!”
“Dang it, Sunni, what did you do?” Terri became all motherly, using her six months older age as a benefit. Inspecting my clamped hand, trying to get a closer look. “Open your fist, let me see.”
“No, the damn thing is pounding like a freaking freight train.”
“Freight trains don’t pound.”
“You’re not helping.” I managed through clenched teeth.
An unfamiliar male voice interrupted my bitching. “Hey, are you okay?”
After several seconds I finally took my eyes off my injury. Oh, dear Lord, he looked like he belonged in a do-it-yourself ad for lonely women.
 Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of stair.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Tuesday Tales, What's My Address..

Happy March!

This week our group writes to the word prompt, "address".

“Michael, it’s so good to see you man.”
“It’s awesome to see you awake. You scared the shit out of me.”
“I don’t remember much, all of a sudden, bam, we were on the ground. How did I get out of there?”
“We heard the commotion and immediately went out to the square. It took a little bit to find you, we finally did and got you in to safety.”
“What about Prisha? She got hurt too.”
“She’s alive, don’t worry about her.”
“C’mon Michael, you gotta tell me more than that. I was protecting her.”
“Why don’t you concentrate on getting your skinny ass outta that bed? You ain’t no good to anyone stuck on your back with an IV.”
“I’m trying. My body is on a delay, like a television show to keep out anything inappropriate.”
“Huh?” Obviously, Michael wasn’t familiar with how network programming works.
“What I mean is, I can think about what I want to do, but, my body doesn’t react right away. I want to move my leg and it takes a few seconds for the command to work.”
“The good news is you’re gonna get better. You can make it out of this.”
“Okay, then, why isn’t anyone telling me about Prisha? She matters, dude, she’s my friend.”
Michael walked around the room, cracking his knuckles. Something was up, he was avoiding any talk about Prisha. I think she really died and no one thinks I can handle the truth. Just like in that movie. “I can handle the truth. If she’s dead, just tell me. I have to deal with it sometime.”
“You don’t need any more shit piled up.”
“Shit? I knew what could happen, I put my life on the line. I was in the moment, unafraid but scared shitless at the same time. Hell, I probably pissed my pants lying there in the dirt with all those explosions going off around me. If I need to deal with more, then, for God’s sake, give it to me now so I can heal all the way around.” I don’t think Michael believed me. “I’m no pussy.”
“Such a mouth, Guardian.” He shook his head, but also smiled. Maybe I was getting through to him.
“Listen, your friend, Prisha, I’m not sure that’s even her real name.”
“Please explain. Why would she lie about her name?”
“She was working with the enemy.” Another bomb dropped in the room next to me. However, this one fell with a cruel, silent explosion. The blast reverberated within my consciousness, breaking me to the core.
“No way, not her. She was young, vibrant, happy.”
“She’s an amazing actress.” Michael rubbed a callous on his palm. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Is she really alive?”
“Yes, she’s alive, but not doing very well. We have her imprisoned in a medical unit- a secure address.”
“Imprisoned? What the hell can she do from a hospital bed?”

“She’s dangerous, Guardian.”

Please visit us at our main site for more interpretations of "address".

Tuesday Tales