Quirky Heroines, Happy Endings
It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart. I simply can’t build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery, and death. – Anne Frank
I am the eternal optimist. I, too, believe that people are truly good at heart. Yes, it might be difficult as we read the news, our feeds, dashboards – it seems people are doing more bad than good. However, you must remember this – bad news sells. People love to pass on bad news. Bad news is exciting, it gets the “enraged” energy flowing. Who needs negative energy? Not me!
Today is February 17, 2014. It is Random Acts of Kindness Day! This is your chance to spread sunshine all over the place. Once all those good vibes are out there, they’re bound to come back to you.
Here are a couple of things you can do to brighten your corner of the world.
1. Say thank you.
How many times have you been in a store and customers act like the cashier doesn’t exist? They chatter on their cell phones, toss the money at the cashier and leave the store without even making eye contact with the service person? Again, bad news travels fast, but often good news moves like molasses in January. Change that. Greet your cashier or service person. Say thank you. Make eye contact. Treat people as people, not as objects.
2. Speak with Kindness
In the words of Nicky Santoro (Casino): Be f*cking nice.
Is kindness extinct? It is so rare to see people saying kind things about others. Usually it’s something negative or something to raise someone’s ire. Even much of comedy is less funny observations than straight insults. So, speak with kindness. Spit those negative words in the trash where they belong.
3. Forward an email coupon
We receive tons of offers in our email. Many of them we delete without a second glance. However, think about some who might need it. Send it on them with a note that you were thinking of them. Easy, right?
4. Let someone go in front of you
Whether it be in line, on the road or wherever, offer to let someone in front of you. It’s the small things that people appreciate.
Extend your random acts of kindness to the rest of the year and I bet the sun will shine on you.
No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted. –Aesop
Authors, pop over to my blog for my random act of kindness for today. It’s small, but I hope it helps.
I am pleased as pink punch to welcome RaeLynn Blue to my blog today. I was fortunate enough to meet RaeLynn through Mocha Memoirs Press. a busy epress that offers “new flavors in fiction”. RaeLynn was sweet enough to give us some insight into title Native Hearts, part of the Native Heart series. Let’s take a look!
And how gorgeous is that cover, dahling!
Excerpt:
© RaeLynn Blue 2014
Scarlet streaks flushed to pink and vibrant orange as the day bled from dawn to dusk. The colors painted the horizon along the burnt dust of the northern edge of the Navajo Nation’s reservation land. At over a mile high, this section of the high desert stretched out in all directions, racing toward its postcard edges. Picturesque, perfect, and patient, the land had witnessed death, destruction, and desperation. So why the H.E. double hockey sticks did Tank have her out here? The bright sunlight, crisp air, and fluffy white clouds belied the near twenty-three degree temperature. February became cold around these parts. The season didn’t care at all that today was Valentine’s Day.
Lee Stone frowned as the bite of another cold blast tore across the mesas and threatened to tear through her coat. Shuddering inside her parka, she could not fathom another Valentine’s Day mired in tragedy or random acts of chaos. Slivers of icy wind streaked through her ebony parka and her sweater, directly to her very bones. With her fingers growing numb inside her leather gloves, she yanked her hat farther down over her ears, and not for the first time, cursed the Valentine’s Day gods. It appeared that for the fourth year in a row, her sweetheart day would end in utter disaster. She looked around.
What could possibly be out here?
Biting her lip, she cast a glance at Tank Begaye. One eyeful of him never satisfied her. It never quenched her constant craving for him. His cowboy hat was tugged low over his eyes, and his arrow-straight black hair tied in a ponytail that hugged the nape of his neck. After four years, most couples’ fires had cooled to a comfortable temperature. Not theirs. Her desire burned blue-hot for him, just like the first day they met. Feeling the familiar tug of hunger skirt across her clit, she squeezed her thighs together before taking the next step forward. Her gaze moved downward from his neck to his leather-clad back, wide and delicious.
Whatever plans he had, she knew that the calloused hand of Fate would knock them off, scattering them into oblivion and the Navajo desert. They crested a ridge that looked out over the valley below. Speckled with Western-style houses, Hogans, and mobile homes, the sheep and yuccas outnumbered the living structures.
“Tank…” She detested the whine threading through her voice, but the suspense threatened to overtake her.
He gazed out toward the valley below and hummed. “It’s beautiful here.”
When she sighed, a stream of condensed air flew from her lips. They’d met at a freak party in Las Vegas and she’d lassoed his heart. He lived in Colorado and she resided in New Mexico. Each year they planned to meet on Valentine’s Day, and each year Fate fucked it up. The first year a blizzard tore through the Southwest and dumped a foot and a half of snow on the Four Corner region. The second year, a fire exploded in Tank’s ranch-style home the day before he’d planned to leave. Last year beat the mother of all tragedies. Tank’s ancient grandmother died two days before V-day. He was devastated. Maybe that was why he had them out here on the rez.
Road weary and exhausted from hiking through the high hills and low valleys of the reservation, Lee put her freezing hands into her pockets and fondled the thin, gift-wrapped box. She’d bought Tank a necklace, one with turquoise and silver crafted by a Zuni silversmith. As a Navajo, Tank had access to Native American crafts, but she’d had this piece crafted just for him. One of her students in Gallup was Zuni and her father a silversmith. Despite the cold outside burning her nose and making her ears sting, the gift warmed her.
“Where are we going?” she asked, calling above the sharp whistle of the wind.
He turned to her in that slow, seductive manner of his. “It’s a surprise.”
She bit back the retort she had in her throat. His sable-brown eyes peered out from beneath the shadow of his cowboy hat. Heat washed over her as if he’d touched her. Feeling better, Lee smiled and found her hope reassured. He did that all the time, sometimes with his voice over the cell phone, and other times with his eyes via Skype. The long distance between them had made maintaining their love a challenge, but when they were together, like this, it was all worth it—every mile, every minute, and every bit of money to keep and nurture what they had. She huddled deeper into her coat. Still, this hiking thing was not how she’d intended to spend her Valentine’s Day.
“This had better be good,” she mumbled.
He nodded and took her hand into his big one. His much larger hand engulfed hers.
“How much farther?”
“Just down this side path.” He inclined his head to the west.
Through the sparse grouping of trees, she saw the small, single-story structure. The door faced east, and puffs of fluffy smoke huffed out of a black circular chimney. Tank stepped in front of her, and led her down the narrow pathway that wound through the desert’s untamed brush. Lee had taught in New Mexico for the last fifteen years, so she recognized the Navajo Hogan when she saw it. A five-sided structure sat alone on the flattest section of the land. Packed adobe covered some of the walls, but harsh New Mexico winters had worn some of it down. The gusty winds whipped it down over the decades.
Lee had no idea what to expect and her feet failed to move. Tank must have felt her hand fall away, and he turned to her, concern on his face.
“What’s going on?” She couldn’t shake her rearing. There were places black folks just didn’t go. Besides, sacred places like Hogans and cemeteries were not normal destinations for Valentine’s Day.
Tank sighed. “It’s Valentine’s Day…”
“Not a sacred Navajo day…” she interjected.
He grinned at that. “No, no it isn’t.”
“So…”
“So follow me and I’ll give you a surprise.”
Buy it now for $0.99 cents until February 28th.
Mocha Memoirs Press, LLC: http://mochamemoirspress.com/native-hearts
All Romance Ebooks: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-nativehearts-1416555-149.html
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Native-Hearts-RaeLynn-Blue-ebook/dp/B00IAUKEIU/
As you all know, I frequent Facebook. A lot. Perhaps too much. Anyway, I was so very fortunate to meet author Mya through our mutual love of crafting and all that entails. She is a fab author at Loose-Id as well as Ellora’s Cave so I wanted to highlight one of her books today.
First of all, look at that cover – I love the shades of blue.
Title: A Guardian’s Desire
Author: Mya Lairis
Publisher: Loose-Id
Synopsis:
When bounty hunter Freya Daniels attends a pageant for werewolf debutantes and suitors, she’s far too busy enjoying the perks of wealth and ceremony to realize she’s being watched. When she meets the submissive wolf Rayne, she cannot believe her luck. The androgynous male is just made for her voracious appetite. But she’s not expecting the beta wolf to come with a very dominant and powerful Alpha, Fenris.
Fenris is just as much of a warrior as Freya and twice the brute. While she would normally never consider dating a bull like Fenris, there is something different about the Alpha, something even she can’t deny: the attraction between wolf-mates. Together Rayne and Fenris are not only more than she can handle, but all the guardian could ever desire…if only she could admit that to herself.
Two hot wolves for the price of one, who could ask for anything more?
Excerpt:
Up to her shoulders in hot churning water, Freya reached for the bottle of scotch on the rim of the Jacuzzi. Now was her time to relax. Deep within the whirlpool, surrounded by a view of the west lawn, she also had a line of sight to the girls’ room. Since she had locked the front door, the only chance the girls had of sneaking out led straight to the Jacuzzi.
When she left, the girls were tucked in, watching television and gushing over the excitement of the opening night of festivities. Freya had heard them talking about which male had approached them, which was the hottest, the richest, and, more interestingly, which one that they felt they should be mated with.
“Oh, cubs, if you only knew,” Freya muttered to herself. For her, relying on the whims of a male was something she had never done. There was nothing wrong with dangling off a male’s arm; it just took more submissiveness than she could ever pretend to have.
Dresses, makeup, heels… Fighting and drinking and the occasional bath were much simpler concepts. Jacuzzis were about the most lavish thing Freya indulged in. With her first large bounty check, she’d had one installed in her apartment. While it was a girly thing to have, Freya tried to keep the bath oils, bubble baths, and scrubs decorating the rim to a minimum.
She lay back against the Jacuzzi wall and looked up at the purple sky. It was so beautiful, almost in the way Rayne had been. Ethereal, simple, magical…Rayne. She closed her eyes and envisioned the male beauty. He had been spirited, a bit bold but not threatening. That was important to her.
Rayne looked like just the kind of tasty morsel who would lie back and let Freya have her way, allow her to kiss where she wanted, touch what she wanted. She could hold him down and savor every inch of his body.
It was a pleasant thought…
“Supernatural or no, I don’t think that it’s a good idea to pass out in a hot tub.”
Startled from her shallow nap at the sound, Freya snapped to. Seated across from her in the churning waters was the object of her dreams, pale and near glowing even in darkness. She didn’t feign surprise. As tired as she had been, a herd of antelope could have snuck up on her.
“Maybe not” — she yawned — “but I would pity the poor idiot who tried to bother me while I was in said hot tub.”
“Threats again.” Rayne smiled. “Don’t you even want to know if I won or not?”
“Not really. All that matters is that you’re alive — oh, but then you’re a witch, so I’m sure that you would have been hard to kill.”
“My mother was a witch. I’m just gifted in the art of healing.”
It wasn’t an unheard of union. She had certainly seen stranger unions: a serpentoid and gargoyle, a vampire and a sun spectre, even a lycanthrope and a werecat. A child produced between a witch and a werewolf wasn’t impossible, but still, it wasn’t one she saw often. Witches were tasty, rumor had it. Freya shook her head, pretended to be nonplussed. “Oh, so you’re a mutt.”
“And you’re a pure breed?”
Freya searched around the lip of the Jacuzzi and found her nearly empty bottle. She drained the last inch. “What I am is a junkyard dog. Did you win?”
“I did. I can fight, you know?”
“You don’t look like it. Not that I haven’t met rail-thin guys who can kick ass, but Sayuki looked like he could do some damage and you don’t look like the type who would faze him much.”
“He couldn’t stand five minutes against me.” A frown formed on Rayne’s face. “But what type do I look like?”
Freya decided that she liked the way his pink lips pursed with disappointment. “You look like the pretty type. Like you should either have a cock-diesel boyfriend with broad shoulders or a Japanese girlfriend with a pink lunch box.”
Rayne’s eyes narrowed; his nostrils flared. “Well then, where would your lipstick lesbian be?”
Freya laughed. Touché, pretty boy. “Don’t have one at the moment. Would you like to be it? All of that smooth skin, pretty pink nipples…” Freya boldly moved her eyes over his hairless chest, specifically noting the tiny silver nipple rings pierced into pink flesh. She couldn’t resist dragging her tongue across her lips, eyeing all of his glistening skin.
He lowered his head but she saw the warm coloring in his cheeks, throat, and on his chest. She leaned back against the tub wall, assuming she had won the banter game. Yet, when Rayne finally raised his head, she recognized the look of a coming attack.
“Actually, I am quite fascinated by the size and beauty of yours. Your nipples are so large and your breasts are…so big. They beg to be worshipped. I thought of them while I fought, of how I wanted to touch them…suckle them.”
She sat up and crossed her arms over her nakedness. While his words caused her pussy to ache with interest, her defense was automatic. “Look, cutie, me and my tits are flattered, but I would eat you alive.”
“Maybe I might like that.”
He was a bold one. The ball was in her court. Freya was interested in playing offense, not defense. She let down her guard and moved across to the seat beside Rayne. She slid an arm behind his slender back and, gripping his shoulder, she leaned in close. With her nose beneath his ear, she inhaled the light musk there. He smelled of evergreen and salt. “You might like that, huh?”
He exhaled and nodded. “Yeah…”
Freya’s fingernails grew into talons, which she placed upon his chest. She took one of his hard nipples between the tips of her dangerous fingers and scratched the flesh as gently as she could. Rayne’s breath caught as she nicked him but he did not flinch. Not overly much. She wove a talon into the space between the silver ring and the top of his nipple, flicked it back and forth.
Rayne’s gasps were too enticing to ignore; the hitching of his Adam’s apple, the shuddering of his jaw drew her lips to explore the place where they joined. She dared only the tip of her tongue at first, wanting to maintain some semblance of restraint, wanting to tease him. Drawing circles beneath his jawline where fine, soft stubble grew in, Freya reveled in his taste. He tasted just as sweet as he smelled and before she knew it, she had to have the flat of her tongue trailing up and over the bobbing apple in his throat, had to have her lips against the heated pulse of his carotid.
It had been so long since she had been with a lover that she could barely contain a growl of hunger. And such a tasty morsel Rayne was. She pinched his nipple with her claws. His shudders and gasps caused her to arousal to flare all the more. “You’re a brave cur.”
Y’all need to go out and get this one today.
Buy Link
Alan Page – Defensive Player of the Year, 50 Greatest Vikings, Pro Football Hall of Fame, a Member of the Purple People Eaters, First Black American to serve on the Minnesota Supreme Court (1992)
Don’t say Alan Page didn’t have goals. While he played for the Minnesota Vikings (1967-1978) as a defensive tackle, he was attending the University of Minnesota Law School. He received his Juris Doctor in 1978. After that, he went on to play for the Chicago Bears (he must like the cold) for another three years.
After football, Mr. Page did a little radio broadcasting, then began his second career. In 1985 he was appointed Special Assistant Attorney General and then was promoted to Assistant Attorney General.
In 1992, Mr. Page was elected as an Associate Justice of the Minnesota Supreme Court. He is the first Black
American to ever serve on that court. He was reelected in 1998, 2004 and for the last time in 2010.
According to Wikipedia, Mr. Page is looking into becoming a public school teacher.
Mr. Page, your contributions and career are certainly an inspiration to us all.
More about Alan Page
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