The things we learn on Twitter…

I would have to say that Twitter is probably my favorite social network. Little snippets of conversation, information, and humor. I find it the least time consuming. I can tweet and leave, only to come back later and talk to those that responded to my tweet. The ease of finding your favorite tweeter and catching up on any news in a few seconds makes it convenient.

Sometimes, in the flow of conversations, I’ll follow a link. The other day, I followed this link. At first glance it’s a basic writer’s friendly blog, but the deeper I went, the more I realized what a wonderful wealth of ideas all in one place. For those who’ve been writing for awhile, we know how to describe the senses, places, emotions, and situations, but to have so much information in one place really got my creative juices flowing. I bookmarked the site, and will be visiting again.

Are you on Twitter? What do you like/dislike about it?

Just one of those moments…

Yesterday, in the chaos of Mother’s Day, I found myself taking my three sons shopping for jeans. Yeah, I know, that’s not very relaxing or something most mom’s want to do on their special day, but I got tired of being catered to and decided I wanted to buy a leather case for the Kindle I received from the kids…so off we went!

Somehow, the shopping for clothes and the cover only took 15 minutes. I guess that’s what happens when all the kids wear levi’s. No trying on, just grab the size and go. On our way out to the parking lot, the kids asked to stop at the grocery store. We’ve been through this routine many times before. The grocery store offers Wi-Fi. We’re on dialup internet at home (only thing available), so I told them we’d stop.

As they whipped their netbooks and phones out of…wherever they hide them when we go places, I fiddled with the Kindle. I bought too many books, discovered games, and social networking, and entertained myself.

Being Mother’s Day the store was crowded. There were lots of fathers with kids buying the $10 bouquets. One man caught my attention…

He appeared at least 90 years old. Short, wrinkled, and a little hunched over, but he was fast. He had one of those short hurrying steps that one takes when he has somewhere important to go. In his hand, he grasped a bundle of flowers. It was the smile on his face that grabbed my attention though. It was a mix between mischievous little boy and a tender-eyes-watering-from-memories kind of happy.

I swallowed. Hard.

In the backseat, one of the twins whispered, “Okay, that’s sad when you think about it. His mom has to be dead.”

I shook my head. “The flowers aren’t for his mother. He’s going to go home and give them to his wife.”

“Why?” (My son is 15. He’s allowed these questions, I suppose)

“Because he loves her. She probably had his babies, and even though those babies probably have kids/grandkids of their own, it doesn’t matter. He honors his wife,” I said.

My son didn’t say anything right away as we all continued watching the old man climb into his pickup being careful not to crush the flowers. The man’s smile never left his face.

As the truck drove away, my son said, “That’s cool.”

That’s when my vision blurred and I began to blink rapidly. Somewhere, in the future, a woman is going to be treated like she’s special. It’ll be my son who makes her feel this way, because of one moment in the parking lot of a grocery store when I stopped on a Mother’s Day and let my boys use Wi-Fi.

Contest! Finding Eternal Peace is out!

 

Leave a comment telling me one item you’d want to take with you inside a cult, if you had to sneak inside the compound to save your sister (gun, knife, pencil, a red sweater, ect.), and I’ll throw everyone’s name into the hat tonight and pick one winner who’ll receive a free copy of Finding Eternal Peace.

 

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Buy Here

 

Blurb

The only way to save her sister from a cult… was to sign up.

Megan O’Donnell had already lost her parents–she wasn’t going to lose her sister too. Allison had taken their parents’ death hard, but Megan thought her sister was finally starting to live again. She had no clue the reason behind Allison’s newfound happiness was Lord Stephen, leader of the Eternal Peace cult. When Allison runs off and joins Lord Stephen’s commune, there’s only one thing Megan can do. She joins too.

After watching his sister fall for the charms of Lord Stephen, Private Detective Joe Sherrill goes undercover to bring an end to the man’s deadly charade. For Eternal Peace is anything but, and his sister’s suicide has convinced Joe that what’s going on isn’t so peaceful. He never expected to find someone else in the commune who wasn’t drinking the Kool-Aid, someone as gorgeous as the fiery redhead, Megan O’Donnell. If he can convince her to go undercover as his sex partner, he’ll be one step closer to getting what he needs to close the place down… until Lord Stephen decides Megan’s just what he needs as well…

 

Excerpt

Lord Stephen pulled her face around and captured her lips. She moaned, not in pleasure, but in revulsion. Her hands came up to push him away, but the instant they encountered his bare skin, she yanked them back.

Groaning at the way his tongue invaded her mouth, making it impossible to breathe, she writhed against him. If she could wiggle her way out of his embrace, maybe she could explain that she needed more time.

“Oh, yeah, you want me.” He lowered his other hand to her ass and humped against her stomach. “Move that body.” He gazed down at her breasts and licked his lips. “I’ll make you my special fuck girl.” He groaned. “You’ll find eternal peace with me.”

An ear-splitting alarm sounded overhead. She screamed. Lord Stephen gave another groan, this time in frustration, and dropped his hands. She wrapped her arms around her waist. What the hell was that noise?

“Stay here.” He pulled his arms through the sleeves of his robe, gazed down at his now-flaccid cock, and shook his head. “This disappoints me.” Walking toward the door, he spoke over his shoulder. “I’ll come back, and you can make me hard again. I have a special feeling for you, Megan. You do the right things, and I might make you one of my women.”

Unable to decide what to do, she stood in the room staring at the wall. If she left, she’d never get a chance to talk to her sister. If she stayed, there was no way she could avoid having sex with him. The pervert got off on intimidating women.

Needing time to come to her senses and gather her courage, she turned and stepped toward the exit. The door swung open and banged against the wall. She gasped and backed up.

“Come on.” A man she’d never seen before motioned for her to follow him.

She covered her breasts, frowning. “Wh…who are you?”

He raised an eyebrow. “The answer to your prayers, sweetheart.” He glanced over his shoulder in each direction. “Unless you want to stay in here and fuck Lord Dickhead, you better get your ass over here and follow me.”

She scooped her robe off the floor and ran toward the door. Pulling the robe on, she plastered herself against his side and peered down the length of the hallway. Whoever he was, she agreed with his assessment of Lord Stephen.

Finally, someone in this hellhole didn’t see everything in rainbows and moonbeams. His eyes even appeared clear and alert. He could possibly be the only sane person, besides her, in this joint.

“Not a word out of your mouth. We walk out of here without making eye contact with anyone else.” He lifted her chin. “If anyone stops us, bury your face in my chest or my neck, but do not look at them, understood?”

She nodded. The more long-term residents had free rein to explore their sexuality out in the open. She understood what he wanted her to do. They must act as if they couldn’t keep their hands off each other if they ran into anyone.

He slipped her hand into his and led her down the hallway. She struggled to keep up with his long strides. Out of her peripheral vision, she studied the way he moved.

Confident and determined, he strolled down the hallway, knowing precisely where they were headed. She figured out right away that he was guiding her to the other side of the commune where those that lived in meaningful relationships dwelled.

He stepped in front of her and wrapped her in his arms. She planted her face into the curve of his neck and closed her eyes. If Lord Stephen found her, she didn’t want to see him coming.

His lips found her ear. “Hang tight. Run your hands around me and over my ass.”

She inhaled swiftly.

He chuckled. “You’ve got to act like my woman if we’re going to pull this off, Red.”

The use of her nickname threw her into action. She let her hands roam over his back. Hard, tight muscles constricted underneath his robe. She forgot about not knowing this man for more than five minutes, and explored his backside.

The warmth of his breath on her ear relaxed her nerves. She molded herself to his body and let her hands drop to the top of his ass. Oh. My. God. An actual ass a woman could sink her fingers into and hold on.

“OK. Coast is clear.” He stepped back, gazed down at her, frowning, then shook his head and pulled her down the hallway.

Other people were rushing in the opposite direction. Meg turned and gazed over her shoulder. Where were they all going in such a hurry?

The alarm continued to ring all over the compound. She’d found herself so enthralled with the man who’d come to her rescue, she’d blocked out the sound.

“What’s going on?” She tugged on his hand. “Where’s everyone going?”

“Fire.” He pulled her through the doorway into the couples’ only area, where she’d never been allowed to enter before.

“What?” She stopped and nearly had her shoulder pulled out of its socket. “Wait. We can’t run. My sister—”

He picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran.

How I came to write Finding Eternal Peace…

This was such a fun book to write for a different reason than readers might suspect. A little background…I grew up in an area where the Rajneeshees came and set up camp. Who are the Rajneesh? Well, they were a cult group led by Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, a guru from India, who brought over 2000 followers with him to Oregon/Washington, where even more people joined the ranks.

I was young, and at the time didn’t understand why people were talking about them in a negative light. To me, a small town girl, where everyone seemed the same, the Rajneeshees fascinated me. It was the first time I saw anyone different than me. Men and women wore sheets in the colors of orange, red, pink, and purple. I’m not sure what the color represented, but it had to do with the ranking they held within the group. Anytime I saw them at the store, or walking through the one stoplight town, I would try to talk with them. My parents would tell me not to bother them, that they liked to keep to themselves. I didn’t know that the Rajneeshees were told not to talk to outsiders, but apparently my parents did and didn’t want to cause trouble.

That all changed when I was 15 years old. I was on a plane going from Washington State to Los Angeles when my plane seat was between two Rajneeshee men. My parents were not on the trip, and all I could think about was here is my chance to appease my curiosity. But, right off the bat, the older Rajneeshee told the younger Rajneeshee not to talk with me. The younger man must have been around 30-35 years old. There was something in his eyes though that told me to talk. For two hours, I asked him questions, I told him jokes, and I told him how cute he was in his pink sheet. The guy would laugh silently, wipe his eyes, and I’m sure his lips were tired from all the clamping down he did not to answer me. Most of all, I saw that he was just like me. There wasn’t anything strange about him outside the pink dress, and the vow of silence.

When we were in the terminal, the younger Rajneeshee glanced behind him to me. He made eye contact, winked, and gave me a little wave behind the older Rajneeshee’s back. I’ll remember that day my whole life. Not because of the one-sided conversation, but I learned a life lesson that stuck with me more than my parents trying to teach me. People are the same regardless of what they believe, what they wear, or what path they are following in life. That man was the same as me. I understood him without a word from his mouth.

I dedicated Finding Eternal Peace to him…wherever he is now, I hope he found peace and happiness.

 

Now, my book Finding Eternal Peace, deals with what I imagine goes on inside cults where free love and happiness are the focal points. Where power goes to a leaders head, and people can be taken advantage of, and even in extreme cases where illegal trades go on, and drug use is common. But, I would like to imagine that somewhere inside a cult, there is one person who can see beyond the teachings to a person’s soul…like the hero. Like my Rajneeshee friend.

You can buy Finding Eternal Peace tomorrow at Etopia Press. I’ll also let you know when it will be available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and All Romance Ebook store.

If you’d like to know more about the Rajneeshees, a now defunct cult, here’s the wiki page on them.

Farmgirl Manicure

IMG_9721 Every day on Twitter and Facebook, I hear women announcing they’ve gone for their mani or pedi. It always makes me gaze down at my own nails, and smile. I’ve never had a manicure in my life. Oh sure, I’ve tried the press on nails, the glued on acrylic nails, on over the years. They never work out. I’m a farmgirl. I work with my hands. Whether I’m bucking hay bales, wrestling a hog, feeding a goat, or mending fence, fake nails don’t work out. Nail polish is quickly scratched up and chipped. The other day, I even tried the stick-on polish,IMG_9727 guaranteed to last up to 10 days. They lasted one day on me.

But, that doesn’t mean I don’t like nail polish and having my nails look pretty (or the best they can look). Every night I take a shower, and then sit down to paint my nails and toes….farmgirl style.

Do you wear polish? Do you do your nails yourself? What makes mani’s/pedi’s so special?

Weddings…

Like everyone else, it seems like weddings have been the talk of the town for the last couple weeks. The royal wedding seems to have made this subject the focus of Facebook updates and Tweets galore. I have to admit, I didn’t watch it. I’m sure I’ll catch bits on the news today or there will be a show that’ll highlight the wedding. Even though I didn’t get swept up in the excitement, I am interested enough to hear how it all went.

I have been thinking of my own wedding lately. Honestly, at the time, both hubs and I wanted to slip off somewhere and elope…maybe visit the courthouse and say I do. The one thing that held us back…I guess I should say me back, was my mom always said, “I don’t care if you elope or go in front of a judge. If you get married, I expect to be there to see it.”

So, we found a little dive, er…wedding chapel where the flowers were fake, the decorations were cheesy, and it cost us $25 to rent for an hour. I bought invitations at Hallmark, and sent them to our immediate families. Just our parents, siblings, and grandparents were invited. My mom bought me my dress as a present. Looking back, I was 19 years old, and I could have worn the dress to a prom. (maybe that’s because I was 19. I felt like I was going to the prom) It was the palest peach color, and had peach colored lace over the entire dress. I had matching shoes.

Hubs rented a white tux with peach colored tie. He’s not a man who dresses up, and I remember being blown away by how he cleaned up so well. lol

We had our best friends stand up with us as our witnesses. The guy who married us, was legit, and I believe he ran the little wedding chapel. I just know he was authorized to do weddings.

But, it wasn’t the thrown together wedding that I remember the most. It was the wonderful feeling of marrying the man I loved. At 19, I was consumed with him. Saying I do, gave me one more part of him. I look back, and smile at my “young love” mentality. But, you know what? It worked. We’ll be celebrating 22 years in June. I’m even more in love today than back then, if that’s possible…and, I believe it is.

Our kids have laughed over our wedding pictures, but if I had to do it all over again I wouldn’t have done a thing differently. That’s who we were, we got the job done, and yes, my mom was able to witness her only daughter say, “I do.” Besides, isn’t it what you do after the wedding the most important part?

Did you have the wedding of your dreams? Would you have done it differently now that you can look back?

Read, read, read!

That’s what I’m going to do tonight. It sounds funny, because I’m a huge reader. But, the only time I don’t read is when I’m writing. Since, I just finished a project today, tonight I’ll start a new book. My to-be-read pile on my ereader is rather large, and I always have a hard time deciding which book will be first in my frenzy to read as many as I can before going back to a new writing project.

Here are a few book facts about me.

My favorite place to read? My bed

Print or ebook? ebook! I still read print books, but since my ereader is backlit, I like it best for reading in bed and the convenience of always having lots of books with me.

Favorite genre? Contemporary

Favorite length? Novella length and longer

Favorite author? That’s like asking which of my kids I love the most. lol

Last book read? Heated Rush by Leslie Kelly

Worst place to read? The car. I get carsick.

Oddest place to read? While running on the treadmill or waiting at the dentist office (although I don’t think that is odd. lol)

 

What about you? Wanna share your favorites?

L. K. Below’s Cinnamon and Spice Scavenger Hunt

L. K. Below’s Cinnamon and Spice Scavenger Hunt

Hello, everyone! As a writer of erotic romance, among other things, I’m very pleased to introduce to you my latest release — and my latest contest!

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Blurb: Jack is smart. Jack is charming. Jack is persistent.
But Melissa is dead certain that he isn’t the guy for her. In a moment of weakness caused by his shiver-inducing voice, Melissa finally agrees to one date. She shows up on his doorstep determined to get it over and done with, but Jack has something different planned. With a home-cooked meal, wine, and cinnamon-scented candles, can he break down Melissa’s resolve?
Can he steal her heart?

 

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Rules:

1. Must be 18 or older to enter contest.

2. Contest open to entrants world-wide

3. Email me at the provided address (lbelow at lbelow dot net) with the answer to the question. No need to answer in essay format (unless you feel moved to do so) a simple sentence or even one word will enter you.

4. Only one ballot per question — but if you visit my other stops and answer the other questions, you will be entered multiple times.

5. Contest open until May 2nd, 2011 at 11:59PM EST. Winner will have 48 hours to confirm their email address and give a physical address where they would like their prize to be mailed.

Prize:

1. A goodie basket of cinnamon-scented products.

2. A photo of the Cinnamon and Spice cover, signed by me (L. K. Below)

3. A PDF copy of Cinnamon and Spice.

CONTEST ALERT: To enter to win the above prizes, simply email the answer to the following question to lbelow(at)lbelow.net.

Question: Have you ever gone on a date you didn’t want to be on?

Do you want more chances to win? Each scavenger hunt question answered counts for one ballot towards the prize. Check http://lbelow.blogspot.com for the full itinerary. Good luck!