Plot Monkeys

As most of you know, today is Friday, and that means it’s Jungle Madness Contest day!

This week, Janelle is giving away a summer fun package to one lucky winner so they can GET WILDE! This gift package features an autographed hardback copy of both WILDE THING & THE WILDE SIDE, along with a “Take a Walk on The Wilde Side” bookbag, coffee mug, and coaster! If winner already has the two books listed, they may choose any two books from my backlist that they would like instead (sorry, SURF’S UP is excluded as a choice).

Winner will be chosen by an unbiased family member by picking a number from everyone who posts on the blog today. Winner will be announced on Sunday’s blog, so be sure to check back over the weekend!

Good Luck Everyone!

Summer is definitely here, and my latest release in the SURF’S UP anthology is out in stores NOW! For those looking for crashing waves, intense heat, body oil, and men who give new meaning to a day at the beach, look no further. Three of today’s most talented authors deliver all new stories of the hunks who work and play at the sizzling seashore. By no means beach bums, these irresistible guys are as ripped as the waves and smooth as the sand. No shirts required! Don’t miss this super hot and sexy anthology with stories from myself, MaryJanice Davidson, and Nina Bangs.

And now, a very exclusive (and sexy!!!) excerpt especially for our Plotmonkey readers.

It was a gorgeous night for a stroll, with silvery moonlight streaming across the ocean and the small, breaking waves on the shore adding to the calm and soothing backdrop of sound. Holding her purse in one hand, and her sandals in the other, Claire curled her toes into the wet sand, enjoying the cool texture on the soles of her feet, as well as the companionable silence between her and Shea.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive in front of her place, and she opened the front door with her key then turned toward Shea. The outdoor light she’d left on glinted off his pitch black hair and illuminated his masculine features. He stared down at her, his green eyes dark and intense, reminding her of the conversation they’d had back at his pub when she’d asked him what he wanted. The one where he’d made his interest in her blatantly clear.

Now that they were completely alone, with a dozen sensual possibilities with this man finally within her grasp, the butterflies in Claire’s stomach came back with a vengeance. She had no idea how to go about seducing a man like Shea. A man who was so hot and sexy she felt completely out of her league.

“Would you like to come in for something to drink?” she asked, figuring getting him inside the house was a start.

Pushing his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans, he slowly shook his head, though his eyes never left hers. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Are you hungry?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized the double connotation of her question.

He noticed, too. The playful smile that curved his sensual lips held humor, as well as a trace of something far more incorrigible. “Well, now, that all depends on what you’re serving,” he murmured huskily, and followed that shameless comment with a slow, visual caress that encompassed her breasts, her hips, and all the way down the length of her legs.

She felt singed by his deliberate perusal. Her pulse tripped all over itself and settled into a steady, aching throb between her thighs. She hadn’t pre-planned any of this provocative byplay between them, but she had to admit that the bold exchange made it much easier to put her desire for him out in the open, and gave her the fortitude to go after the affair she wanted with him so badly.

With that in mind, she upped the stakes between them. “I’m serving whatever you’re hungry for.”

Reaching out, he traced the thin strap of her dress all the way down to the low neckline, then feathered his long, warm fingers over the top swells of her breasts. Slowly. Leisurely. Like a man who had all the time in the world to pleasure her. Her knees went weak at the thought.

“I’m hungry for another kiss,” he said in a low, silky tone, arousing her with his suggestive words as much as his thrilling touch. “I’m ravenous for the taste of your skin, the softness of your breasts in my hands, and the taste of them in my mouth. I’m starved for the feel of you warm and willing beneath me.”

He paused, letting the erotic scenario play through her head and fuel her own imagination to dizzying heights before he finally said, “Knowing all that, are you sure you still want to offer me something to eat?”

He’d revealed his deepest desires, and he was leaving the ultimate decision of what happened between them tonight up to her. Refusing what Shea was offering wasn’t an option, not when she’d fantasized about him doing all those things to her, and a whole lot more.

“I’m sure, because I’m just as hungry as you are,” she said, baring her own emotions and sensual longings. “Maybe more so. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted me that much.”

Heat flared in his eyes and he groaned like a man who’d been shoved over the edge of control. In a whirl of movement he gently pushed her inside the house, closed the door behind them, and backed her up against the nearest wall. Her shoes and purse dropped to the floor as he tangled his fingers in her hair and his mouth came down on hers in a deep, hot kiss that was an aggressive, possessive assault on every one of her senses.

His body pressed hard against hers, branding her with a scorching heat from her aching breasts to her trembling thighs. He shifted his hips and effortlessly wedged a leg between hers. His hard thigh slid higher, exerting a delicious kind of pressure and friction right where she needed it the most. She arched into him, feeling the thick, growing length of his erection, tasted their mutual desire as it built, and inhaled the intoxicating scent radiating off his skin — a heady combination of sea air and carnal sin.

Desperate to feel more of him, she tugged his t-shirt from his jeans and pushed her hands underneath the hem. Beneath her flattened palms she felt the muscles in his stomach flex, heard the deep growl of sound that rumbled between them, and reveled in the knowledge that she could affect him on such a purely sexual level.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Yep, that’s all the teaser you get, folks! To find out what happens between Claire and Shea, the book is now available at your favorite booksellers, AMAZON, or B&N.COM

Be sure to stop by the jungle tomorrow. I’ll be giving away a fun “summer” prize package!

I have always had a problem with nightmares. Ever since I was very, very little. I’d absolutely love to consult a sleep specialist and find out why that is…but then, maybe I don’t want to know…if you know what I mean.

My nightmares don’t seem to mean anything. They are incredibly weird and usually, I don’t remember very much once I’m completely awake. The trouble is, now that it’s summertime and my daughter is home and doesn’t have to be up at any particular time (which means I don’t have to be up at any particular time) we’ve gotten into sleep patterns that haven’t helped keep the nightmares at bay.

For one, I’m going to bed very, very late. My daughter and I love watching “Duck Dodgers in the 24th and a Half Century.” Trust me, guys, this show is hilarious. If you like the old time cartoons with pop culture in-jokes, this is the show for you. My daughter just likes Daffy (he plays Duck Dodgers) because he’s so stupid. Anyway, that’s at 10:30pm. My husband is usually long asleep by then. This is actually my quiet time with my daughter because even though she’s at home with me all day, I’m mostly working. This is cuddle-on-the-couch time. We don’t do it every night…but about three times a week. (Thank God for TiVo the rest of the time!)

On those nights, I put her to bed around 11pm. Then I do what I *think* is causing the nightmares–I take two ibuprophen. Then I work another little bit (okay, usually I’m blog surfing) or read and then I go to sleep.

Now, I’m very susceptible to drugs. If there is a side effect, I’m usually going to get it. Muscle relaxers, which I absolutely need for my back to be able to sleep, make me very sleepy. I’m usually an incredibly light sleeper, but with the drugs, I think I go deeper and I think that’s where the nightmares breed.

Around 6am, which is my normal wakeup time during the school year, I wake up and with nothing good to do (and only about 6 hours of sleep since I roll into bed around midnight) I go back to sleep. The nightmares commence. They wake me up, but not all the way. Sometimes they are gory, like today’s. Sometimes they’re just weird and disturbing. It makes waking up even harder. At least I’m old enough now to know that they can’t hurt me, aren’t real, aren’t premonitions of anything and generally are just a pain in the butt because those last two hours of sleep aren’t really sleeping at all.

Anyone else suffer from nightmares? What do you do to get rid of them? Mine aren’t even good enough to inspire some good spooky stories. I’m actually working on a paranormal story right now and not one thing I’ve dreamt about is fodder for this story. At least I don’t think it is…hmmm…maybe I need to explore this a bit more.

Wow… sounds like a Halloween post, doesn’t it?

Maybe it’s just a side effect of having a VERY active imagination, staying up past my bed time and not enough tequila. :cocktail:

I have to tell you that I’m kind of mortified because I seem to be fairly useless as a blogger. I am blank. Again. So I late last night, I figured I’d at least mention why I love the upcoming month of July. I do. I love July and why not?
My 17th anniversary is July 1 and my birthday is July 7th. I think this year we’re going to go into NYC with my parents and my kids and do a joint celebration because my parents anniversary is June 29th. Fun, huh?

And once I typed this in, I had nothing more to say. I had no blog. Nada. And then somehow, as if someone was looking out for me, all hell broke loose.

First, my dog Buddy :doggie: began barking at 2 AM from his crate. Buddy never barks unless it’s at the Fed Ex man. He sleeps through the night. He’s 8 years old and he knows what is good for him so he doesn’t wake us at midnight. Except that last night, he started to bark. Actually he woofed. And woofed again. And again. I thought my husband would get up and check him (hahahahahaha!)

What was I thinking? So I dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Buddy was standing in his crate (unusual). He hadn’t pooped or thrown up (thank God!). So I let him out to pee, which I thought maybe he’d be anxious to do, but I really had to coax him off the patio. And then I locked him up again and all was well.

Fast forward to this morning (I saw CLICK this weekend, can’t you tell?). My husband called from work and said, “Your dog wasn’t barking to go to the bathroom, he was protecting you.” What? We accidentally left the garage door open last night and a raccoon got in, toppled our garbage pails and had a feast.

“Is he still in there?” I asked. “I didn’t see him,” Hubby said. Men. But he cleaned up after the raccoon so I can’t be too mad.

Fast forward again. I went on the treadmill and while I was on, I heard a thump. I looked at the window – it’s a fire escape window and isn’t meant to be opened. If you have to go out, it leads to a well and you have to climb up three steep plastic like stairs to get to the yard. It’s purely for safety. Human safety. Because a baby bunny rabbit fell or jumped into the well. I looked out the window and screamed because staring at me, paws on the window, was a baby rabbit.

We have rabbits who live in our yard and Buddy, the gentle soul, coexists with them. He never runs after them. So anyway for a solid fifteen minutes, my daughter and I stared at the rabbit, coaxing him (or her) to jump higher as the poor bunny tried to hop out of the well. It would make it to the first step and try to jump to the higher second step and fall back, shake for awhile and attempt to figure out how to get out of this apparent trap. It was awful.

We tossed around ideas and finally went to the back yard at 7:30 AM armed with a girls lacrosse stick. Geniuses that we are, we hoped we could scoop the bunny into the cup part of the stick and toss it back to it’s mommy. Or we thought we could give it a helping boost out of the hole. We got there and WE COULDN’T FIND THE RABBIT. Turns out it was burrowed in fear in a corner. We discovered this after I forced my daughter to poke it and make sure it was still alive although how it could have died in the five minutes it took to find the lacrosse stick is beyond me. Notice that I wasn’t the one who was poking at the rabbit.

What we found out is that even baby bunnies have really long legs. Each time my daughter tried to scoop it up, it hopped high, she screamed, :shock: and we ran backwards. Notice I wasn’t the brave one in this scenario. Finally we gave up. But we weren’t going to let the poor rabbit down, not to mention we didn’t want a bunny corpse on our hands.

Luckily for me, the painters who’d been painting our house had one last thing to do and while we were scratching our heads over what to do, the doorbell rang and they showed up. I handed them the lacrosse stick and showed them our little problem.

The big strong men saved the bunny while the cowering women screamed at the bunny flying through the sky. The bunny ran back to it’s mother and I had my blog topic.

I still think someone helped me intentionally so I’d have something to write about. THANK YOU!!!!
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If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m the one who wanted the new icons. I hope you like them. I do! If not, what can I say? It’s my blog and I can do what I want to. :biteme:

And if the other plotmonkeys don’t like it, I’ll hide. Just kidding. I asked them first!

Happy Tuesday, folks!

Those of you who know me already know I’m a Broadway baby. I have been a major fan of musicals since I was seven years old and my grandfather bought me the lp of the movie Dr. Dolittle (with Rex Harrison , Samantha Eggar and Anthony Newley.) I started thinking of that the other day because I just read that Dr. Dolittle is returning to Broadway. The musical version–not the (shudders) Eddie Murphy one.

I guess one reason I’ve always been attracted to the musical is because I was born into a singing family. My Dad has a wonderful singing voice and, growing up, I remember many Sunday afternoons spent gathered around the piano while we all sang. Usually Sinatra and the standards, but occasionally some Lerner and Lowe or Gershwin. It really wasn’t that unusual for us–well, me–to break out into song if I had one for any appropriate moment. And I always sang (sing) at the top of my lungs when doing housework.

I always sought out musical movies. Grease was my favorite movie for a long time, and, it so happens, was the first movie I saw on a real “date” in the 7th grade, with the brother of my friend Mary Jane Kelly. (Wish we’d kept in touch, I’d love for her to learn I turned out to be a Kelly, too!) How funny that just a few years later, I was performing in Grease and was first seen by my husband-to-be on stage. (We met a couple of years later doing not a musical, but a straight show! I was Anne Boleyn and he was the Duke of Norfolk who sentenced me to death.)

My daughters are just like me. I suppose they were doomed since I have about 100 musicals on cd, vhs, dvd and lp. They know who Mary Martin is and they know why her Annie was better than Ethel Merman’s Annie. They began watching all the Rogers & Hammerstein’s ones years ago (except Carousel–I HATE that show.)

They’ve been to NYC and caught the bug (possibly because they got to meet Hugh Jackman after we saw Boy From Oz, but that’s just speculation. I think my youngest was more excited to meet Bernadette Peters…she watches Into The Woods all the time.) My older girls sing Loathing from Wicked at the top of their lungs when they’re washing dishes every night. And after we took them to see Les Miserables, my 2nd grader went into school and sang the song Lovely Ladies–the hooker song–for her entire class.

Yeah. They’re chips off the old block.

Anyway, my point in bringing all this up is to say that I think the reason I love musicals most of all is for the same reasons I love romance fiction.

They’re funny. They’re cheerful. They’re optimistic. They’re clever. They’re populated by noble men and feisty women. They can be very sensual (ever heard the song A Dangerous Game from Jeckyll And Hyde? Whew…sex in song!)

But the best thing of all about musicals is that people get to break out into song when the mood strikes them.

Man, I wish real life was like that. That when I’m walking through the grocery store and I see a 2-for-1 special on my brand of laundry detergent, I could just break out in this jazzy melody extolling the joyous smell of Gain. (I’m picturing a big Jerry Herman ending.)

Okay, I will admit, musicals don’t always have happily-ever-after endings like romance novels. But hey, even Rent has a happily-for-a-little-while ending. Phantom is probably more of a “love story” that ends tragically, but Raoul and Christine, at least, do get their happy ending. West Side Story…well, nobody’s really smiling at the end, but even without a happily ever after, the general message is an uplifting one because you can’t see that show and doubt for a moment that Maria has been transformed by everything that has happened to her.

A message. They all have a message. Just like romance novels.

Even Sondheim’s musicals (my fave composer, btw) which generally explore darker themes, offers growth in every character. And even some romance…quite often, boy does meet girl and gets girl (even if they both later realize they’ve been eating Mrs. Lovett’s “special” meat pies and are now cannibals just like everybody else in London.)

I guess that’s why when I’m writing, I sometimes put a musical on in the background. Something that matches my mood. Great Big Stuff from Dirty Rotten Scoundrels when I am writing something funny. Where’s The Girl from Scarlet Pimpernel when I am writing something erotic and sensual. Sunday In The Park With George when I need the words to bounce. When I want to cry and feel the agony of a true black moment, I’ll put on Miss Saigon.

And when I’m feeling deeply romantic, I turn to one of my very favorite shows: Brigadoon.

First, there’s the amazing Gene Kelly looking so rugged and masculine while he dances with such athletic grace (I’d take him over Fred Astaire any way.) But aside from that, it’s the ultimate romance. Love doesn’t merely triumph over mistrust and distance, it conquers time itself. One man’s love brings an entire enchanted village back to life just so he can be with the girl he can’t forget.

Sounds like the perfect romance novel to me.

What a wild week! I did have a fantabulous birthday and the highlight was the party here at Plotmonkeys! Thanks, everyone!

Congratulations to Lui #37 the winner of this week’s contest! (And a sucia, too…I swear this was random…my daughter just picks the number!)

Please email me at julie@julieleto.com with your address and I’ll get the prize out first thing Monday. Here’s the funny for the day. My mother sent it to me. Enjoy!

Katie A. asked another great question (come on, folks, chime in! What do you want to know about? Email Carly at carly@carlyphillips.com with your questions.)

What other websites, besides your own, would you recommend to us devotees of the ‘plotmonkeys’ to find information about you?

CP: My personal website is loaded with all things Carly; I have a link to all my interviews My writer’s section on my website is also interesting and helfpul. Then I admit to Googling “About Carly Phillips” for more answers on this, LOL! I found this site, Fantastic Fiction, with all my books. I host at Access Romance and I also promote on Fresh Fiction. But for the most part, I try to keep my website up to date.

JEL: JulieLeto.com is a great place to start (the content is all updated), but as I’ve mentioned yesterday, I also have a blog over at my second website, ReadMarisela.com and since my Marisela site is hosted at AccessRomance, there are a few blogs there from me as well. I just finished a really great interview coming up at poster May’s blog. It’ll be up in August.

LK: Well, there’s a terribly outdated bio of me at eHarlequin.com, but I so like “revisiting” a day in my life of five years ago when I wrote that, I’ve never asked them to change it. I’ve done interviews and q&a’s at a new sites including Aromancereview.com, Theromancereader.com. I also like Fantastic Fiction which is a site that lists books (including covers of British editions) for just about any romance author you can think of. I’ve found covers of my European books on there before I’ve even seen the books themselves!

JD: Like everyone else, the best way to find info on me is as my website, which I try to keep as updated as possible. There’s a bio, a list of published books, and what’s coming out in the future, along with book excerpts. There’s pictures of me with friends at conferences — oh, and a free monthly giveaway contest, too! So, go and enter! *g*

Now it’s my turn to give away the gifts! This week’s jungle madness contest prize is a signed copy of A FARE TO REMEMBER, two ceramic NYC Taxi mugs, a Statue of Liberty pen, a NYC Taxi pencil, a NYC Taxi key chain, a NYC Taxi magnet and a can of Nestle instant Cafe Con Leche, the drink that ensures that Rachel Marlowe, the heroine of my novella, “Driven to Distraction” meets the matchmaking cab driver, Mario Capelli!

Just post a comment and you’re entered! Don’t forget to come back tomorrow for our Saturday chit-chat and on Sunday when the winner is announced!

Oh…and I just posted my next installment in my blog series on finding a literary agent over at my Marisela blog.

Today is a very special day in the jungle. It’s Julie Leto’s *actual* birthday! (Actually, I think she’s having a birthday week! :d) Whoo-hoo! Happy Birthday Julie! We love you and hope you have a super-duper day filled with fun, awesome gifts, and great food!

In celebration of her birthday, I thought it would be fun if we all gave Julie some cyber-gifts. The kind that are amusing, calorie-free, and won’t get her drunk or in real trouble! (Oh, darn! ) A fun fantasy where you can be as wild and creative as your mind can get. So, use your imagination and let’s have some fun on Julie’s birthday!

Here’s my personal cyber birthday gift to Julie. Four hunky, gorgeous pool boys at her beck and call all day long. One to deliver all the mojitos her heart desires, another to feed her fruit, chocolate, and birthday cake, another to massage suntan lotion all over her body (as many times as needed!) so she doesn’t get a sunburn, and another to spray a steady mist of water on her so she keeps cool. Now, if Julie has other . . . ummm . . . DUTIES she might want to assign to one of those pool boys (other than what I’ve already assigned them), then she’ll have to let us know what she has in mind so we can enjoy the fantasy, too!

So, what kind of cyber-gift would you like to give Julie for her birthday?

This should not surprise anyone. Everyone who is a regular visitor here knows I’m a total foodie. I have the extra pounds to prove it. But as my birthday approaches (can you see how good I am at making sure NO ONE forgets my birthday?), I have to make up my mind about what I want to eat.

In my family we have a fabulous tradition of “the birthday dinner.” You get to pick your favorite food and my mother makes it (except when it’s her birthday, then I make it.) We’re talking dinner for 16 here–my parents, my three brothers, two wives, three nephews, three neices, my husband, myself and my daughter. This is no easy feat. But we pull it off…sometimes several times in one month. June is a great month. Me, my soon-to-be 15 year old nephew and my 10-year-old nephew. (And don’t forget Father’s Day…it’s the same as a birthday, except being this is Florida, we usually do a cook-out and my brothers actually cook.)

I always pick the same thing. Steak milanesa. This is, like me, a combination of Italian and Cuban. Very popular dish here in Tampa, where the ethnic population is a heavy mix of Italian & Cuban. It’s basically steak pounded relatively thin, breaded, fried, then simmered in a marinara sauce and topped with hard boiled egg and peas. It doesn’t “sound” so delish…but trust me, it’s amazing. The sides will be traditional yellow rice, black beans, plantanos (fried plaintains “maduros” style…which is when the plaintain is overripe, sweet and fried.) and a salad. Gotta have some healthy stuff somewhere. :/

My problem is dessert. I love dessert. Who doesn’t love dessert? (Okay, my husband, but I’d like to think he’s some weird anomaly…and I can usually get him with creme brulee.) But creme brulee is very hard to make, and you see, my mother doesn’t do desserts. (Except for my middle brother, who is a Christmas baby, so she makes him this Sicilian dessert with ricotta cheese and toasted almonds every year…yum.) But I digress.

Because my mother doesn’t bake, dessert falls to the spouse (or mother for the kids.) So whatever I pick must be able to be purchased. That leaves out creme brulee, my favorite (and Janelle’s!)

I saw a flan today at the bakery (spanish custard…close to creme brulee without the crusty top) which went well thematically with the meal, but I make a hell of a great flan, so I didn’t want to try the bakery’s version and then not like it. And since flan is a hell of a lot of work to make (requiring many Sour Apple martinis or Mango Margaritas shared between me and my sisters in law on Christmas Eve, the one time a year we make it), that’s out.

The only other desserts I like are the stuff no one else likes…and while it is my special day, it’s not much fun if after blowing out the candles, you’re the only one devouring the Key Lime or Lemon Meringue pie. I love Tiramisu (which I have to admit I thought was Japanese until I was in high school…no one in my Italian family EVER ate the stuff), but I’ve sworn off caffeine and well, the dessert is swimming with it.

My family tends to love chocolate. In fact, I made the chocolate cake for my nephew, because I’m the resident chocolate cake expert in the family and my SIL (his stepmother) was having an awful day at work and I volunteered to fill in. But we just had it. Another chocolate cake? I tried getting this delicious chocolate princess cake from my favorite Italian bakery last year (yes, Les, the one I try to always bring to your house when I visit!) but my family is used to my light, fluffy cake and this thick, rich chocolate bomb didn’t go over well.

So, I have no idea what to ask for. Bananas Foster? We do that on my SIL’s birthday. Sundae Bar? Did that for my oldest brother. Chocolate fondue? My nephew…whose birthday is only six days after mine always wants this…so I don’t want to steal his chocolate thunder.

Can’t do Red Velvet because said nephew is allergic to red dye. That also rules out my favorite Shasta cake, which is made with strawberry soda.

I’m leaning back toward the pies again. Lemon Meringue for me, French Silk for my chocolate-loving family. And the bakery nearby makes excellent versions of both.

Anyone have any other suggestions? What would you pick for your birthday? (And are you hungry yet?)