Today’s the last day to enter! AND you can enter again! Just Tweet, Facebook, or blog about this book and send me the link!

So this is the thing I need your help with. I’d like to get this widget spread as far and wide as I can. Read the contest instructions. There are TWO! Your suggestions regarding how to proliferate this over the web for the next three weeks would be appreciated!

**Winner announcement at the bottom of this post!**

In December 4th’s blog, I asked three questions I needed answered by you before I could continue writing my free, serialized story, Bad Moon Rising. Poll #1 is now closed. This is your definition of what The Prowl is:

“The Prowl” is when members of the clan mate, and if a human is caught within their territory, they may be hunted and mated, by force if necessary

We still have two more questions to go.

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I’m offering a $10.00 Amazon.com eCertificate as an incentive to get you to vote. I’d like all the answers to the polls nailed by early next week. Be sure to POST A COMMENT after you vote so I know who to enter in the contest.

The winner of Cat Tails Poll #1 is…Loretta! Loretta, congratulations and email me!

Psst! You still have time to vote on Monday’s poll and enter the contest for the Amazon e-gift. I’ll close it tomorrow. ~DD

I’m honored, Delilah, to be guest blogging for you again today.

With the holiday season upon us, I started thinking about some of how my characters would celebrate Christmas. My heroine in ADDING HEAT, Giselle Sheridan, would be most likely to celebrate and decorate the way I do.

Giselle is a widow in her 40s who struggles to keep her late husband’s landscape business running and her two sons in college. She’s gutsy and determined and open to having a man in her life again, if only she had the time to search for one. So I gave her an early gift — a cougar cub of her very own.

She met CPA Conlan Trowbridge during the busiest season for them both—the week before the income tax deadline of April 15. But of course they find a way to get together.

Both Con and Giselle grew up in a semi-rural area in Pennsylvania and have traditional values. It’s important for them to have family gathered together during the holidays.

Much like in my own household, they will use traditional, indigenous decorations—fresh pine and spruce boughs and cones, holly, pyracantha and juniper berries, osage oranges and other natural elements gleaned from the acreage surrounding her home and business.

Because Giselle is in the landscaping business, their Christmas tree will, of course, be a live conifer, balled in burlap and resting in an old galvanized tub. They’ll plant the tree in the spring as a memento of their first holiday together. And I can see them starting a tradition that my own family has followed—each year giving one special ornament to the other.

Our tree was always decorated with wooden nutcrackers, hand-crocheted snowflakes, a few precious heirlooms of colored glass, sterling silver stars inscribed with meaningful dates. There’s a guy on skis, a wheelbarrow, a crocheted angel atop the tree, a needlepointed truck (yes, I actually designed and made it!). One year I received a set of Russian matryoshka dolls nested one inside the other. I treasure the tinkling glass wedding bells on a silver ribbon. We found a wooden farm couple: a man holding a rake and a woman with a pail. A replica of a steam engine and coal tender. Musical instruments. And more, but you get the idea.

Back to Giselle and Con, they aren’t always traditional, especially in the romance department *big grin*. Here’s the blurb for ADDING HEAT, a stand-alone story in the Cougar Challenge series from Ellora’s Cave.

Encouraged by friends she met at RomantiCon, widowed landscape contractor Giselle Sheridan decides she’s finally ready to take the cougar challenge and explore sex with a younger man. Except she’s too busy during planting season to go on the prowl.

CPA Conlan Trowbridge is battling the IRS deadline for his clients, but when Giselle saunters into his office with a tax question, all he can think of is sex. She’s all luscious curves and smoldering brown eyes, and he doesn’t care if she’s a dozen years older, she’s a wet dream come true.

Oh yeah, they’re both ready for some hot and heavy sex—in the tub, parking lots, their offices—anywhere and everywhere. But Giselle is afraid her age will eventually bother Con, and her longtime foreman also has designs on her, in more ways than one. When Giselle faces some hard decisions, will she ultimately be able to keep the heat?

Who is Cris Anson?

An older woman who still wants romance in her life. After my husband died in 2005, it took me a long time to come out of my grief. Because my marriage was long and happy, I wouldn’t say no to another love interest in my life. So I find myself writing cougar stories (although readers probably wouldn’t want to read about heroines as old as I am LOL). I’ve also written the four-book DANCE series for Ellora’s Cave as well as several novellas and Quickies.

Read excerpts of my books at www.crisanson.com

Find the entire Cougar Challenge series here: Cougar Challenge

You still have time to vote on yesterday’s poll and enter the contest for the Amazon e-gift. I’ll close it on Thursday.

In the meantime, are you looking for a different kind of kink? Something you haven’t tasted before? Check out my friend Amanda’s new story!

Justine Crenshaw is accident-prone. On purpose. It’s the bruises…she can’t live without them, without the pleasure and pain that closely bind her sexuality to her secret obsession. She chooses men who accept her fetish, who seek it out for their own dark designs, even if they don’t understand it. She accepts that. Justine doesn’t need them for anything but a little bruise pressure during down-and-dirty sex.

Then she meets Nathan, and her heart starts demanding more than her compulsions provide. She can’t hide her body from him forever, can’t keep him in the dark, literally. But no “normal” guy could possibly understand her multi-colored kink…could he? It might be time for Justine to shine a light on her fetish and find out.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

If they found my body tomorrow—cold and dead from some accidental food poisoning or bathtub slip—they’d suspect I was a battered wife or girlfriend for the mass of bruises, contusions and welts on my body.

They’d be wrong, whoever they are.

No one ever beats me, ties me up—or down. I never have to lie about falling accidentally, or running into door frames, or searing my forehead with a curling iron.
I’m not submissive to anyone, nor am I bound, gagged, throttled, spanked or any of those other violent verbs.

What I am is accident prone.

In the sense that I’m open to them. Accidents.

Ironically, my name is Justine, like the book.

If you don’t get the Marquis de Sade reference, don’t worry. It’s not necessary. This story is neither literary nor filled with obscure references. It’s a base little tale of private kink and Christmas.

So it’s festive, I suppose. But really not the point.
Read the rest of this entry »

Last week, I asked you three questions to get your input regarding what should happen next in our serialized story, Bad Moon Rising.

I’ve accumulated your answers to the first question I posed. Your mission today is to vote for the answer you like best.

I’m offering a $10.00 Amazon.com eCertificate as an incentive to get you to vote. I’d like all the answers to the polls nailed by Saturday AM. Be sure to POST A COMMENT after you vote so I know who to enter in the contest.

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Finally, I can say I finished the rough of the last December 1st deadlined book.

Two weeks late. But what the hell? To say I wasn’t as inspired by this one as the other two would be a gross understatement.

So all you writers out there, when an opportunity to write something for a publisher you have courted for a long time comes, make sure the story is something you love. I just couldn’t love this one, hence all the trouble finishing it. Maybe my emotions were involved because I was seriously exhausted. Maybe I was simply annoyed that I didn’t get as much say in the premise of the story as I would have liked. I now know I can’t write to someone else’s specs. Not, and love it.

Anyway. Those 3000 words were the only ones I wrote all week. This week I have to get my head back in the game. Now, why is that High School Musical song playing in my mind? Ack!

Coffee is heating up. My workspace will be wrestled back into shape. Why is it that I can get so easily distracted with all the clutter that has accumulated over the past couple of months?

Last night I took a sleeping pill and got over eight hours of rest—uninterrupted. Huge accomplishment since I haven’t had that much in over a month. I’ll do the same tonight. I have kid issues coming back Tuesday, but I hope I can set some limits for myself and be a little better organized. Sleep has to make it onto my To Do List.

Christmas is creeping ever closer. I have to get cards out this week—if I’m going to do them at all. I have to get any online buying done. I wish you luck with the countdown as well!

I babysat last night while the red-headed hellion (RDH) found advanture at Walmart.

While standing in the toy aisle looking at Fischer-Price toys for the two-year-old demon child, RDH heard a commotion coming from the front of the store. She cocked an ear toward the noise, but didn’t move. Then two Asian women ran past, hunched over and whispering furiously, “You mus’ run!”

The two women began to move the toys off the shelves as though they would hide in the shelves. She asked what was wrong, but they only shook their heads. “Mus’ hide!”

Then a hispanic woman ran past. “He’s got a gun!”

That’s all the RDH needed to here. “Fuck the shelves, let’s get to the back of the store.”

At this point, more people were rushing past, all passing her because she was in heels. She ran past a cute redneck next to the gun display and grabbed his arm. “Run.”

He looked kind of shocked—deer-in-the-headlights shocked. She ran past him, grabbing his arm to force him down the aisle. Over her shoulder, she shouted, “He’s got a gun!”

RDH caught up with the crowd and got in front of them, heading toward the auto shop area because she knew they had an exit door. She ran behind the counter, started pressing buttons to open the door, but couldn’t find it. At least the area was darkened. She hid under a bench and repeatedly dialed 911, only to be put on hold over and over—WTF? This is Boonieville, Arkansas.

Then three Walmart workers showed up. “What are you guys hiding for? You need to leave, you aren’t supposed to be here.”

Of course, it ended well. Some dude escaped from the county lock-up and the cops caught him in Walmart with a flying tackle. Over in two minutes, but where would have been the fun in that? Which begs the question. Why would someone escaping from jail want to go to Walmart?

RDH says, “Maybe he needed to do his Christmas shopping.”

Yeah, I’m sitting at her table now, drinking coffee, wondering how I would have reacted, if it had been me. Like the guy at the gun counter, she would have been pulling me behind her because I would have wanted a closer look. And because I giggle when I’m nervous, I would have been laughing hysterically. No, guess she would have left my ass behind.