Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Work in Progress Wednesday: Up to No Good Cause Bad is Better

Listen, Babies...
I have to be brief today, cause my internet is being mean, and I've had to schlep all my stuff over to Mick D's to write you today. S'okay, you are all worth the extra effort. I do have a fuck-ton of work to do, though, and I've kinda gotta keep it as streamlined as possible...

So, bearing that in mind...I'm not sure what to share today. See, I just got edits back, and I'm working my way through them as fast as my fingers will fly. So I don't wanna post anything from that. I just sent a supa-cool story in to Silver for the first weekly Silver Short dohicky, but I can't post that yet...heh. You should keep your eyes peeled though, cause it is smoking hot. No fooling. I could give you some more of The Faery Tree, but I'm about  to completely rip chapter 5 apart and do it over....and I don't want to post the old version.

Le Sigh. Maybe you'd like to read my Top Gun slash? You may have missed it over at Chicks and Dicks yesterday, so how's about I just post a handy dandy link to  The Iceman Cometh , and you can toddle over there to read it.

Oh, and that was really my Tuesday Triumph. In case you're wondering. :) The whole, having a byline over at C&D. Cause I think that blog rocks.

I'll see you tomorrow, and big ginormous smoochies to you.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Manic Monday: Wishing you a Red Letter Day

Today is Chinese New Year's Day.
Red is an auspicious color in that culture.
Hence my wishing you a red letter day.

That is all for now...I must go write.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Sunday Snog: A kiss and makeup snog from The Faery Tree

A sweet little kiss-and-make-up scene from The Faery Tree.

Crawling up out of darkness proved to be difficult. It was warm there, and firm, and there was a distinct thudding sound which soothed me. The bed moved beneath my cheek, and I was startled into wakefulness.
“What is it with you and me and beds?”
No brain to mouth filter existed for me in the first few minutes of consciousness. I’d forgotten that. There wasn’t usually anyone around for me to talk to when I first woke but Lily and Steven, and my interactions with them never required a filter. Well, except the kind to make my language child appropriate. And at this point, after so many months of having Lily in our lives, Steven and I both were pretty kid-friendly, linguistically speaking.
“Ah…you and I and beds…I find this a topic truly worthy of study, my little one.”
I bristled at both his tone and his word choice. I was not especially little, I was not his, and I didn’t care for his proprietary tone. He just wanted a quick fuck and no strings. What the hell was he doing in my bedroom, lying on my bed, snuggled up to me like we were lovers of long standing?
I was soooo gonna kick Steven’s ass—
“Please, liebling, do not blame your brother. I told him that we have decided to pursue a…what word do you say. A mating?”
I choked on my spit.
Not pretty, but it did break the tension. He told Steven we were a couple? That we were giving our relationship a go—like a long term thing and all?
“Relationship. W-we call it a relationship. Animals mate. People date and move in and marry.”
Ee-an watched me, his dark chocolate gaze glued to my face. He leaned in close to me, and his scent hit my nose. Just that quick I was hot, super hot, take all my clothes off and spread myself to get fucked through the mattress right this second hot.
I hated that he could do this to me.
Oh, snap.
What the hell had he just said to me?
“What? Are you—did you say that we—”
I waved my hands back and forth between the two of us. Ee-an nodded his head, a little chuckle escaping his throat. I swallowed thickly, unable to believe that my ears were working properly. I—holy shit! I ran out on him. I slammed my door in his face—well, not really, but in essence it was the same thing.
And he came back.
My stupid eyes started to water.
“I bet Steven’s getting dinner ready.”
Ee-an’s brow crinkled up. He held perfectly still except for the way his eyes widened slightly. I hastened to explain my random seeming statement, so that he wouldn’t think I was any crazier than he already did.
“Onions. Somebody’s gotta be cutting onions.”
He smiled. The expression was a slow and steady warming of his already beautiful, manly face. Reaching up with one hand, he ran a finger up my cheek to feather across the lashes on my eyelids.
“Is there shame among your people when a man shows that his heart has been touched? It is not so with my people.”
My breath caught in my chest.
“I knew you had to be a foreigner. You have that gorgeous accent. And just so we’re clear, my eyes are not full of emotion. It’s onions. Or maybe some dust.”
Ee-an’s smile turned tender, and that damn dust got so thick I could barely see. He didn’t speak, thankfully. Pulling my head back down to his chest, he pressed his lips to my temple and began to croon a song to me in the weirdly lyrical language he’d used before. I liked the song. I had no idea what it meant, of course, but the sound of it made me feel languid and peaceful. The feel of his strong arms wrapping around me didn’t hurt either.
I snuggled a little harder into his chest. Oh, I could so get used to this. Tracing tiny circles on the cool silk covering his chest, I pondered what he’d said…or rather, what he’d tried to say, and figured it was time to bite the bullet.
“What were you trying to tell me earlier?”


Find more Snogging Goodness at the following locations:

More snogs may be added as the day wears can always find the up to date list at Victoria Blisse's blog by clicking on "The Original Sunday Snog" above.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Fabulous Friday: Window Dressing

Oh, la, la.
So, you read gay romance. You may even write it. Maybe you're a gay man, or a straight woman, or...whatever. Doesn't matter. You like guys, like to see them nakie, and read about them having hot, naughty dirty sex with themselves or someone else...then have I got a new site for you.
Blog About Men:Home of Gorgeous Men and Boys
(er, all legal)

Were this hottie is featured today...
*wait for it...I gotta pant for a sec to catch my breath after viewing him in the altogether...*

Happy Friday.
Hope I've helped with you daily dose of inspiration!

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Thursday Think Tank: Calling All Minions

Dear Minion to Be,
I created my writing schedule for 2012. Read it over, and realized I am certifiable. There is no way a sane person would create something that requires them to work for 26hours every day.

Welll, not unless they lived, say, on a planet were the days were 50 or 60 hours long and their bodies had developed on that longer circadian rhythm. Cause then that would be like having a part time job, right?

Oh, hold on dammit. I'm digressing again, aren't I?

Shit,shit,shit,shit. What do I do now? I've already lost you, my beloved and unknown minion, haven't I? Oh dear. I don't think I can meet my schedule without your assistance. Er, not without losing my everloving freaking mind. Wait though, I know of a way to fix this. I'm a writer for fuck's sake. I can use my handy self editing skills and fix this know, I can start over.


Dear Minion Who Has Not Yet Sworn Fealty to the Awesome Sauce covered One of a Kind Author that is Me,
I need you. Badly. I have a zillion and one crazy assed character kicking my ass and dragging me out of my peaceful slumbers night after night, and I'm forgetting to handle the rest of my life. Er, my professional life that is. Soooo...I need a minion.

Someone who will work for free books, and will do shit like check for reviews of my work, and check for pirate sites and then send take-down letters, and be my all around gal or guy Friday. I know it sounds like a lotta work for very little, but bear with me. If you play your pickles right this could turn into a paying more than free books gig.

Fuck-wits, meanie-butts, time-wasters, and general jerk-a-sauruses need not apply.

All others, leave a statement addressing your many amazing qualities that should make me consider you for this stellar offer to perform a fuck-ton of grunt level schlepping in my name with very little initial recompense but the elusive promise of as yet uncompleted works of fiction you may or may not like and the joy of a job well done. Make sure in my comment section right here on the site, you also leave your email addy, and we can get down to business.  If you don't leave your email addy, either you KNOW I already have it, or you are clearly one of the above and forementioned and fucking well annoying time-wasters, and can expect no response.

Well, maybe I will deign to point and laugh.
Over and over.


Any serious applicant for this hideous position can be assured they will be taken seriously and deluged with work and gratitude.

One Crazy Ass Author with a Fuck-Ton of Writing to do and Not enough time for all the Other Shit,
Cherie Noel

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Work in Progress Wednesday

Coming from Rooster & Pig Publishing January 31st.

The first of my Second Class Shifter stories. 

SCS1: Impossible You

The first time Tyrell saw Jamie Ingrams, the pretty blond’s shining golden hair was artfully tousled around his face, silver and bluey-green flecks of glitter dusted across his cheeks—and the other man had bits of fake sea-weed draped strategically about his body as he rose from a pond of silver and blue confetti. A big sparkling green pendant dangled against Jamie’s chest that night as well. The entire effect made Jamie look like some fully lickable bit of man-sushi complete with wasabi.
The entire time the sultry mer-twink was dancing on stage Tyrell imagined what he might say to an ethereal creature of the sea such as the one undulating before him. Tyrell's choppy breath stopped altogether at the end of the song, only restarting after his sweetly pudgy face turned an unbecoming shade of puce.
When the mc came back on stage, Tyrell sucked in a double lungful of air with a wet gasp that made him sound diseased. Tyrell bounced on his toes as he prayed for the campy old queen to just spit out the delectable dancer’s name. He waited with bated breath, and zealously devout fervor he usually reserved for bogof’s in the bakery department of his customary grocery store.
The name Jaime Ingrams rolled off the mc’s tongue. Tyrell squeaked like a two hundred and ten pound mouse. The noise fell out of his wide open mouth right as the mc stopped speaking, but before the buff and dreadlocked d.j. managed to crank the music back up to ear shattering levels.
Heads turned toward him. Tyrell blushed and hoped his dark complexion would hide the hot tide flooding his face. Cheeks burning, Tyrell fixed his gaze on the melting ice cubes in his drink. People glanced around him. No one’s eyes met his when he shot mortified glances around.
Tyrell firmed his jaw. He was determined. Tonight, right now, he would gather his courage up in both hands and actually say it to a guy he fancied.
The word came out too squeaky. Tyrell cleared his throat.
A little breathy, but better.
The big brunette next to Tyrell turned his head, one thick eyebrow raised.
“Hello. Do I know you?”
Tyrell choked on the word half out of his mouth.
Choking and coughing, Tyrell gazed wildly around. Somehow he’d lost sight of Jamie behind an enormous pair of shoulders. Tyrell lurched backward, his heel catching on something behind him. The world began to spin. The large man who had said hello turned, thick brows drawing together above the crooked bridge of his nose. A hard hand closed around Tyrell’s upper arm, heat seeping through the thin cotton material of his shirt sleeve. He eased Tyrell back to a fully upright position, nodding at someone over Tyrell’s shoulder before he turned his intent gaze back to pin the bashful man in place.
“You okay little man?”
His voice rolled over Tyrell in a hot raspy wash of sound. Little hairs on Tyrell’s forearms and the back of his neck stood to attention, for all the world like an army of tiny happy soldiers crying out for action. Tyrell nodded, still coughing.
“F-fine. I’m fine.”
The big man used his hold on Tyrell’s arm to pull the smaller man close. His other hand slid around Tyrell’s waist and closed around the belt Tyrells’s friend Gwyneth had insisted he buy for his first foray into “ass chasing”. The man lifted Tyrell up until his feet were dangling inches above the floor, and his rather sweaty ear was pressed against the man’s mouth.
“He’s not worth it.”
He set Tyrell back down, turned, and strode away into the crowd. Tyrell swallowed around an immense dryness which suddenly invaded his mouth. His lips fell open, and the only word he could form tumbled out.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Tuesday Triumph: Unveiling Tonawanda Faery Tales

Oh. My. Fracking. God.

This cover by Vicktor Alexander rocks my world.
A prince of the Fae languishes on one side for lack of a mate. A lonely human man on the verge of giving up all hope of ever finding requited love waits on the other side. On January 23rd the portal opens.

Tuesday Teaser: An Unedited Excerpt from The Faery Tree

Okay, Babies...
Hot off the press, as it were, an exclusive peek at my upcoming release.

The Faery Tree: Tonawanda Faery Tales Book 1

Double Damn.
I’d spent the night with Ee-an and had no fracking memory of it. I quickly clenched my asscheeks together. Nope, there was no lingering soreness there. I guess he hadn’t taken advantage of my weakened state.
Ee-an kept speaking, and I forced my mind to catch up with the real life happenings going on right in front of me rather than swimming through the infinite sea of my imaginings. Ee-an shook his head. Quirking a brow at me he spoke, his expression making it obvious that he was repeating something he’d already said.
“Do you know when your brother and daughter will be back from visiting your friends in Pennsylvania?”
I blinked at him.
His voice was getting me hard again.
“I—uh, they should be home by this afternoon.”
Ee-an nodded, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.
“Do you want to stay here until they get back? You know, just so you won’t be on your own.”
I opened my mouth to suavely reply to that ordinary question. But, of course, being me meant that it could never be that simple. I listened in horror to the words spilling from my traitor mouth.
“Wait? Like, naked waiting? Is that code for sex?”
Ee-an took a step back, his mouth falling open and his eyes widening as his face flooded with color. His sultry voice shook as he stammered his way through a response.
“No—not naked. It—I—that is here. Stay. I mean you should stay in your clothes. And wait. For your brother and, ah—I’m going to make us some lunch. S-ssalad? I’ll toss a salad. No. I—I mean I’ll make salad. Caesar.”
Ee-an fled to the kitchen, but I was not dismayed. The sight of the enormous erection he sported while running from the room smacked into my awareness like a solid oak clue-by-four. Hah. Those two functioning brain cells I have kicked into action and told me that the big hunk who’d all but run screaming into the other room was all mine even if he wasn’t aware of it yet.
 Caesar salad sounded like a fine entrĂ©e, but I was shooting for an appetizer that the chef hadn’t listed on today’s menu. An evil grin stretched my ordinary lips wide. A filthy little chuckle worked it’s way up through my chest to ring through Ee-an’s room.
“I think I’ll start with a protein shake. I am a growing boy after all.”

Monday, January 16, 2012

Manic Monday: Getting back in the Saddle

Today I'm back in the saddle, as it were, attempting to be SuperCherie as I flit about in mah snazzy, glittering cape. Oh, in case you didn't get the memo, fabu author and swanky Mom-about-town Cherie has an alter-ego.

Awesome Sauce, the caped and capricious smexinger--writing wrongs, writing smexy men, leaping tall cocks in a single bound and then--

*waggles eyebrows*

--thowing myself bodily on the explosive rocket launchers of lurve to keep the world safe for sexy soldiers, quirky artist, fucked out Fae and every other hot piece of manflesh I can dream up.

*wiping sweat from brow, yet somehow seeming only more devastatingly sexy*

Right, then, it's back to the cave with me, a-writing I shall go. I've 50,000 to write by Friday. No, really. Plus I need to knock out a few chapters of Wooing Elijah. Er, and find the kitchen. I know we have one somewhere. The boys from my latest WIP, a sexily conservative Fae and a charming and endearingly slutty Human are mixing it up day and night and keeping me completely discombobulated.

*shakes head*

As Vicktor Alexander would say, It don't make no sense. None at all.
And on that note, I'll leave you almost as mystified as I am about just what the hell I'm doing.
Really, I don't know if I'm coming or going.

Er, strike that.

I always know when I'm coming. I hope you do too. Geez, minds outta the gutter. I mean you know when you are coming. Or, er, going. LOL.
Later, babies.

In His Own Words--Dr. King's "I Have A Dream" Speech

I'll be back later to give you your weekly dose of mania. But for now, let the man speak. It will take less than twenty minutes, and if you've never heard his speech, consider it your history lesson for the month.

Take a moment, babies.
It's still relevant, nearly fifty years later.
And that?
Is the power of well crafted words, babies.
It's why I write.
To leave a little more beauty in the world than it had before I came.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

An Unedited Snog from The Faery Tree

The following is a test of the Faemergency Broadcast System. 

This is only a test. 

In the case of an actual Faemergency, please proceed to the you local Faexpediton outfitter to gather supplies, and get your sorry ass to the Tonawandas, asap. When you reach the Tonawandas proceed with all haste to the Faery Tree and pass through the portal. There will be Fae trained in Human handling standing by to administer mouth to mouth excitation.


Ee-an stood, back lit and perfectly framed in the dark wood of the door frame. He wore a pair of black leather trousers that molded to his firm thighs with loving devotion. And that was it. The pants laced up the front, but were only laced half way. I could see a light trail of dark hair leading down from his bellybutton to where the waist of the pants would lie if they were closed all the way. There the—oh so happy—trail broadened. His torso was gloriously bare. My gaze wandered across sculpted pecs, down across a firm mid-section which hinted at a six pack and then back up to the rounded tops of his well muscled shoulders.
Oh yeah.
I could so see myself holding onto those broad shoulders as he fucked all sense out of me up against a wall. I must have whimpered again at that point, because the next thing I knew Ee-an was easing me back down against the bed, his brow crinkling up and his lips pinching together.
“Thomas? Are you in pain?”
His warm brown eyes searched my face, peering into my eyes as though he could see my very soul. I blinked owlishly up at him and then did possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I ran the tips of my fingers across the stubble lining his jaw and traced the outline of his plush lips.
“So soft…”
Ee-an’s eyes darkened, and his nostrils flared.
Score. Maybe not the dumbest thing I’d ever done then.
He pulled in a deep breath, drawing my eyes and my stupid hands to his chest. His nipples hardened as I watched. He leaned down toward me, pausing just before his lips would have brushed my mouth.
“I’m going to kiss you now unless you give me aught reason I hsouldn’t.”
I moaned again, closing my eyes and opening my mouth. Ee-an’s lips lit upon my own as lightly as the brush of butterfly wings, once and again. Then he sealed his lips carefully over mine, slid his tongue into my mouth stroked it along mine teasingly. His hands slid over my chest, and I cursed the invention of clothing. My shirt kept me from feeling the rasp of his skin on mine. I could feel the heat though, and I thought in that moment that I could happily spend the rest of my life right here, with his tongue in my mouth and his hands on my body. Only in a perfect world, this would happen with far less clothing between us. A guy’s gotta have goals, you know?
After a bit the damned inconvenient necessities of life, like oxygen, got in the way of the best kiss I’d ever been blessed to participate in. Ee-an pulled back slowly, brushing my lips with his own, ending the kiss just as he’d started it, with a whisper across my lips.
Again I found myself blinking up into his melted chocolate eyes without two thoughts to rub together in my brainpan. I realized that my hips were straining upward; seeking to press my painfully hard cock against any part of him I could reach. I forced my over eager body to relax back down onto the bed.
“I…best kiss ever. Again?”
This concludes our test of the Faemergency Broadcast System.
This test is brought to you through the donations of Rooster & Pig Publishing.
Picture provided by Tim Trail, Graphics by Rooster & Pig Publishing.

More Snogging Goodness can be found courtesy of the AhMahZing Victoria Blisse, over at her regular Sunday Snog
You can also find a bit of a snog over at Maggie Nash's place.
Lily Harlem has a just added snog as well...but for up to the nano-second accuracy, you need the Blisse Kiss of Accuracy which can only be found on the VICTORIA BLISSE home page.
Vicktor Alexander's The Virgin Soldier's Kiss
Lisabet Sarai's Exposure
LeeAnn Sontheimer Murphy's Rebel Writer

Enjoy it, babies, and don't forget to stop over at Victoria's Place for the Big Blisse Kiss on February 12th. Go on. Get you some.

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Holy Hell, Were Did Saturday Go?

Now just a fracking minute.

I could swear I set Saturday down right around here somewhere.


It rolled out from under that 8hr planning session with Vicktor Alexander?


Come back here Saturday. I wasn't done with you.

Well, shit, I guess I better just post a pic that inspired me with the plot for the second of my Second Class Shifters series...


It really is worth far, far more than a thousand words, innit?

Friday, January 13, 2012

Friday's Inspiration...

I have 1,750 words in the first of a new story, the first of a new series, spun around this pic. All hail the hottie with the phoenix on his side.

*smirks and scampers off to write*

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Shake It Up Baby...

So, gentle reader, here's the deal...

I got out of step toward the end of last year. The whys don't really matter. What matters is that I did, and once I fell out of the awesome rhythm I'd been using to keep myself in tune with both my life in here and now (i.e. family stuff and household issues) and my life on the net as an author (yeah, you'd better throw in the whole having time to write thing as well) ---well, once that got out of step I was screwed.

So, here's were I straighten things out.
Get myself turned around in the right direction and get headed where I want to go.
Set a schedule where I have time to write and blog and interact with all you lovely people.
Here's the game plan then, babies, and I shall do my very damnedest to stick to it.
I can't promise that life won't occasionally throw me some curve balls and force me to take a day or two off, but if it does, I will throw out an s.o.s. and let you know.
I think that'll be fair enough.

Weekly Blogs will follow this format with the exception of special occasions, and I will let you know about those at the beginning of every month. No, really. I pinky swear.
Manic Monday: wherein I will outline the week, let you know about special guest appearances and give a little insight into the insanity that is my daily "same ole-same ole".
Tuesday Teasers and Triumphs: wherein I will post teasers about upcoming publications, kick-off pre-release contests, and talk about what is making me jiggle with joy, as it were.
Work in Progress or Wicked Wednesday: Either excerpts or salacious pics...and occasionally other wicked things. Heh. You'll have to wait and see!!
Think Tank Thursdays: Where I'll raise issues or questions about stuff that makes my characters go..."hmmm"...and let them take the wheel to talk about it.
Fabulous Fridays: Yes, my flash shall return here. Free web stories. Oh yeah, bay-bee. The good stuff.
Saturday Snark from hither and yon: I'll be joining the amazing Anne Tenino for her Saturday Snark, and writing a wee bit about where in the world I am and why it matters.
Sunday Snog and Six Sentences: Sunday's are so nice I have to post twice, lol. No, really. I love the Snog with Victoria Blisse, and I adore Six Sentence Sunday. So I plan to do both.

This will all be kicking off starting this Sunday...I'm late to do the Six Sentence thingy officially, but I'll post six anyway and jump back on the official wagon next week.


And that is all for now, because this lil' author needs to go get some writing done.

And this is all written from my personal corner of the world, looking out the window were my tree of inspiration stands.

I am serious about the tree. I think it actually grows plot ideas. Or perhaps it's just a portal to the land where my muse lives, but either way, it makes me happy.

Ciao, babies. I'll kick off the New Year in re-organized style tomorrow.
Smooches to ya.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

Sunday Snog: Starting the New Year Right

The snog I want to talk about today is a sweet and simple one.

I kissed my daughter on the forehead. I love her and today, she let me show that in a way that made me feel good too.  A brush of lips, a smile, a happy glint in a pair of sassy hazel eyes...and a perfect start to the New Year.

Find more Snogging Goodness here:

Victoria Blisse's Wild Rendezvous
Lisabet Sarai's Incognito
Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy's Rebel Writer