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Released in June 2004, The Pleasure Bot was my first futuristic and one of my favorite stories to write. Maybe I loved it so much because I plotted it with the help of some of my closest friends during a weekend plotting bootcamp. We snorted and giggled through Declan’s audacity, Priss’s cluelessness, and Agnes’s grating voice. I always meant to go back and write the sequel to this story to give Agnes, the AI computer, her own happy ending.

TOP PICK! From RT BOOKreviews Magazine: “… A long weekend of debauchery with her newest sex toy, the Pleasure Bot, is just what Priss needs to scratch her itch. But when the online sex shop delivers her order, she’s in for a shock!…Hot sex, sidesplitting humor and an out-of-this-world story set this erotica apart from the rest! ”

From Romance Reviews Today: “Oh my! Talk about a story that’s hot and funny all at the same time. THE PLEASURE BOT is sprinkled with witty dialogue, very heated sex, and interesting characters.”

Priscilla Potter rents the latest sex toy, a better-than-lifelike pleasure robot, for a little weekend R&R. However, her fantasy companion isn’t quite what she expected. He’s unshaven, uncouth, and doesn’t seem to understand she’s in charge of her own pleasure. But she soon decides the on-line shop got the order just right. As the weekend draws to a close, she has to find a way to keep her robot past its return date.

Bootlegging “entrepreneur” Declan O’Hanlon needs a place to lay low until he can figure out how to liberate his crew and ship from Customs impound. The “uninhabited” house he picks for his hideout actually belongs to a sex kitten who mistakes him for her latest toy. Intrigued by the idea of being a woman’s fantasy come true, Declan does what any red-blooded man would do—he pretends to be her acquisition. But he doesn’t count on Priss being quite so irresistible. As the time to depart nears, he wonders how he can ever leave her behind.

“Aaa—gnes!” Priscilla shouted again, and then paused to kick off her heels before continuing on to her bedroom. “What’s with you? Are you still sulking about me threatening to pull your grid?”

“Of course not,” Agnes replied, in a monotone. “I’m just a hunk of cells, no real intelligence, no feelings to hurt.”

Priscilla rolled her eyes and reached for the first button at the top of her white blouse. “So when is it arriving?”

“It?”

“My Pleasure Bot.”

“Oh, about your new toy…”

“Aaa—gnes?” Her hands froze on button number three. “Don’t tell me they can’t deliver.”

“No, no.”

“Whew! You had me worried there.” She continued unbuttoning her blouse, letting her mind roam to the coming hours. Already her body was juiced at the thoughts of the wicked things she wanted to try with her lifelike, better-than-life-sized robot.

“Well, I just wanted to remind you of a few things first.”

“Like?” She hoped like hell Agnes wasn’t going to give her the list of the manufacturer’s disclaimers.

“You were promised lifelike.”

“Yeah, yeah. Down to the wet tongue and hangnails, I’m sure.” She finished with the last button and peeled off the shirt.

“Just so you know, it’s also programmed to believe it’s a real person—to enhance the experience.”

The word “enhance” was the only one her mind registered. All day long, the thought of all that “enhanced” hardware aimed at providing her the ultimate pleasure had put heat in her cheeks and a bounce in her step. Her skirt joined the heap on the floor. “All right. Is there more?”

“Um…it’s in the kitchen.”
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But I’m worried about Mary Shannon.

You know, the U.S. Marshall in In Plain Sight. The woman’s got big problems, many of them caused by her own bad attitude, but she’s lying in a hospital bed with the doctor’s waiting for her to get strong enough so they can perform the surgery to save her life. Last night she was shot in the series season finale, and the bastards at USA are going to make me wait until Spring to find out whether she makes it.

Okay, so I know it’s just TV and if they renew the show, she has to live, but there are sooooo many other plot threads left dangling after that wacky season that I don’t want to wait until freaking Spring!

Let’s talk about her family. Her mom’s an alcoholic who went through rehab this season, and I can only hope she falls off the wagon again because Leslie Ann Warren was delightful as a lush. Her sister escaped the federal drug charges against her…or has she? The relentless FBI guy wants sis as much as he’s gunning for Mary now for aiding and abetting.

Mary’s adorable Latino boyfriend, Raphael, proposed and moved in with Mary. And anyone watching the two of them together knows they will never make it to the alter. He’s a nurturer and she can’t stand being taken care of. Rafe and the sis however… I think we see that coming!

Her partner is my favorite part of the show. We’ve had hints all along how much he’s into Mary. This season, while toasting her engagement to Rafe, he said he loved her, but everyone listening assumed…love like a friend. We, the audience, knew he’s nuts about her. Mary hasn’t a clue and treats him like an annoying flea.

Then there’s Stan her boss, the adorably sexy little Jack Russell who’s wonderful to watch when he’s laying into guys heads taller than he is. He’s sexy when he gets all riled up and his new admimistrative worker, Mary’s estrogen rival in the office, can’t resist his appeal from time to time.

Then there’s the tantalizing thread of her missing father who’s on the run from the law—see why I love her? Her life’s a complete mess.

Mary, Mary, Mary….what will I do until Spring?

This week, I made nice progress on a sexy ménage, took tons of pictures of mushrooms, prepared for a workshop starting tomorrow (one I’m leading), helped host out-of-towners here for a funeral and still found time to splash around in the pool.

Did you know I have a new interview at Fallen Angels Reviews? It’s fun and short—stop by after you read it and let me know if you learned anything you didn’t already know about me. Here’s the URL: FAR Interview

About the ménage, it’s set in Texas, involves sexy underwear and firemen with no fears of going there. As fast as it’s coming I should be done by the end of next week. What I should be working on is something my agent asked me to do, but I’m resisting. I hate writing on spec and have had to do it so often over the past months that every fiber of my being revolts at the thought of doing it one more time. But I will—after I sink into the depths of depravity in my current kink-fest. My, aren’t I getting purple-prosey.

I have a new workshop my sister and I are leading that kicks off tomorrow morning. It’s Rose’s Write 50 Books a Year. If you’re a writer and haven’t already signed up, it’s not too late. It’s interactive, makes you plan your work, and it’s free!

Back to those mushrooms. A couple of days ago, I posted pictures on my blog of some stunning mushrooms I found outside my back door. Today, I went exploring again with my little Canon Elph and found more lovely mushies. I think I’m obsessed. I want to print copies of them and make a collage to hang on my wall—but then everyone would know how wierd I am, so I’ll just show them to you here and maybe the unnatural urge will be scrubbed from my system.

Don’t these two look like tiny Martians? Take me to your leader!

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If you could swallow a pill that would stop anything of your choice from ever happening to you again—anything except keep you from getting sick—what would the pill permanently end?

My answer is I’d love to take a pill that stopped me aging. Not because I’m vain or afraid of it, but because I’d like to keep active and not lose any more of my mental faculties than I already lost in my 20’s.

What would you like to end?

Some of you may wonder why anyone would give up South Texas with the cowboys in tight Wranglers, Tex-Mex food, wide open skies and a rich, varied culture for the backwoods of Arkansas. So I thought I’d give you a glimpse into one reason I did that very thing.

The scenery changes from season to season, but also varies according to the amount of rainfall and bright sun we get. An ice storm or high winds can change it irrevocably, so once in a while, I like to take a camera into the yard.

We had a lot of rain the past few weeks, and today when I stepped outside I spotted what I thought were flowers growing underneath the massive white oak in the backyard.

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Some places are just meant to be portrayed in fiction. Last year, I sped to Memphis for some location research with Shayla Kersten. I blogged about my adventures there—the long conversation with the police officer investigating a robbery, my travels with John the trolleyman and the church he suggested I could desecrate (for my story, of course).

One place in particular that caught my eye was this “castle” in a seedy area of the city.

I made Shayla pull over so we could take pictures. Ashlar Hall is creepy and used to be owned by a local personality who goes by the name of “Prince Mongo” from the planet Zambodia. I’m not kidding, I swear. He exists and this is his picture.

Gotta love a man who’s not ashamed to wear a rubber chicken.

Anyway, the property was surrounded by wrought iron fencing which was padlocked, and since I’m not much into climbing these days or being arrested, I didn’t get any closer than this to take pictures.

Love the car parked outside. It totally adds to the decrepit air of the place. I’ve tried and tried to come up with a nice creepy story set inside this house but haven’t hit upon the right idea. Most of my ideas are more suited to comedy. It seems like the kind of place that would appeal to Emmy O’Hara from the MIK stories.

When you look at the pictures of the house (try to blot out of your mind Prince Mongo’s pic!), what sort of story comes to mind?

I know you want to learn who won yesterday’s prize, but you’ll have to read to the bottom to find out!

I finished my Intrigue binge last week. Nothing that impressed me other than sis’s book. Again—no prejudice there!

Then I picked up a couple contemporary erotica novels and read them over the last few nights. It took me that long because the stories bored me.

I really, really wanted to like one of them. It was written by an author I normally love and was a contemporary Western. Right up my alley, right? But the characterization sucked. EVERYONE talked the same—the men, the women. The guys were way too concerned about their feelings. And their language was so coarse, their lives so tawdry, I felt dirty. Funny, given what I write!

Now, I love a well-paced curse word during times of danger and high tension—and especially during sex. But constantly? I wanted to toss it against the wall, but I paid for the book so I was damn well going to finish it.

The other was so stupid—girl on vacation at a luxury island resort who gets turned out by a Dom—I had to finish it out of morbid curiosity. There had to be SOMETHING in it I hadn’t read a million times already, but no. Yawn. I wouldn’t have minded a done-to-death premise if the author had given it a unique twist.

I won’t tell you either titles. It’s not fair to the authors. And you might love the stories if you haven’t read a sex resort story already or would love to read a story that can really make you crave a bubble bath.

Maybe I’ll have something better to report next week. I’ve whittled down my choices to a Karen Moning (my mom says I HAVE to read her) and a YA book called THE NAMED. I also have a YA book written by Richelle Mead and another demonology research book coming in the mail.

Then again, I can’t always stick to the plan. I might turn to my crammed bookshelf and pick something at random. Something by someone I’ve never read before. Don’t you love discovering something wonderful when you least expect it?

If you have something wonderful you’ve read lately that you think I might like, let me know!

All right, you suffered my ramblings (rantings, really), I’ll end the suspense and name yesterday’s winner.

The winner (by random number generator) of a free download
of Prisoner of Desire is…Mari!
Mari, congrats and send me an email!