Wednesday Word

pro·cel·lous

[proh-sel-uhs] adjective

stormy, as the sea. 

Now this is a word you'll never see or hear. I challenge you use it in a real life conversation.

Monday Men

What a magnificent moustache! I'm a sucker for well-groomed facial hair.

Sunday Seduction

With a weakness for bossy men and facial hair, Jay is willing to serve up more than just drinks when a handsome stranger with long sideburns walks into his bar. But the object of his desire may be more than Jay can handle.

Warning: light bondage and the blatant misuse of clothing items.

Seduction is a short story with appeal to anyone who liked Last Stop. It can be downloaded free on Goodreads, All Romance eBooks, and Smashwords. I've also uploaded it to Amazon, but not free yet, because to achieve that an author has to jump through hoops and make others do the same.

So I have an appeal to you, dear reader. Please go to the Amazon page of the book. Around one-third down the page click on the "tell us about a lower price" link. In the pop-up select Website (online) and paste one of the following links:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/seduction-lou-harper/1112572707?ean=2940044773776
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-seduction-906647-145.html
Put zero for price and shipping costs, and click the Submit Feedback button.
That's it. Thank you!

If the gods of Amazon feel generous, they'll match the price.

Wednesday Word

trumpery |ˈtrəmpərē| archaicnoun ( pl. -eries)attractive articles of little value or use.• practices or beliefs that are superficially or visually appealing but have little real value or worth.adjectiveshowy but worthless : trumpery jewelry.• delusive or shallow : that trumpery hope which lets us dupe ourselves.ORIGIN late Middle English (denoting trickery): fromOld French tromperie, from tromper ‘deceive.’

Monday Men

I have fondness of old things, as the three vintage typewrites on my bookshelves attest. Collecting old photographs, especially snapshots is one of my hobbies. They absolutely fascinate me. That moment of time and place they preserve is like a single line ripped out of a narrative, full of subtext and potential.

So I decided to dig into my collection and use it to celebrate men. There will be no explicit content, because, sadly, I don't own any. Just plain old men, and not even gay. Although if your imagination runs away with you, dear blog reader, I can't stop you. In some cases it doesn't take much, like with these two goofballs:

Sunday Snippet

Today's installment is from Academic Pursuits. The narrator, Jamie, is a self-confessen and unrepentant slut, who often ends up in interesting situation, like in bed with a mostly straight guy. Mixing sex with humor is one of my favorite things to do.

He collapsed onto the mattress, and I on top of him. Eventually, I rolled off. He was hot as a furnace. Hollins turned over and spent some time blinking at the ceiling.

“That was good,” he said at last.

“Well, that’s the general idea. Otherwise, it would be just a lot of fuss for nothing,” I said, propping my head up on an elbow.

He turned his head and blinked at me for a change. “No, I mean really good. I didn’t think it would be. I guess I’m gay then.”

A light flickered on in the post-orgasmic darkness of my brain. I sat bolt upright. “Oh, wow, wow, hold on for a second! You came to me expecting to have bad sex, so you could reaffirm your heterosexuality?”

He had the decency to blush. I got the whole-body effect this time. “Well…I didn’t think of it that way, but basically, yes.”

That got my gall. “First of all, nobody has bad sex with me.”

“Obviously.” The bastard actually rolled his eyes.

“Secondly, you don’t get a gay card that easy. This is college; everyone experiments.”

He frowned at me and was about to say something, but at that moment, the door banged open and Jo burst into the room.

“Hey, Jamie-- Oh, hi, Hollins.”

“Bill,” I corrected her.

“What?”

“He prefers being called Bill.”

“Oh, okay. Hi, Bill,” she said smiling sweetly at Hollins--I mean Bill--who looked like he wanted the bed to swallow him whole. I was getting used to the new rosy tinge of his skin. It suited him well.

“Jo honey, could you give us some privacy?”

“Yes, right! Sorry.”

Jo trotted out, although she forgot to shut the door behind her. Hollins shot out of the bed and started pulling his clothes on.

I tried to ease his discomfort. “You shouldn’t worry about Jo. It’s not the first time she’s found me with someone, and she won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“No, that’s fine. I have…stuff. I should go. See you at school, okay?”

“Okay, Bill. Don’t be a stranger.”

Wednesday Word

crapulent |ˈkrapyələnt|adjective poetic/literaryof or relating to the drinking of alcohol or drunkenness.DERIVATIVEScrapulence nouncrapulous |-yələs| adjectiveORIGIN mid 17th cent.: from late Latin crapulentus‘very drunk,’ from Latin crapula ‘inebriation,’ fromGreek kraipalē ‘drunken headache.’