Books, Blog, Buddies

Books, Blog, Buddies
We have a ton of fun around here
Showing posts with label Blog Hop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blog Hop. Show all posts

Saturday, October 27, 2012

How Haunted Was It?

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http://thebloghopspot.com/event-page/

 

Did anyone else get sent off to those church events where the young adults made a haunted house? I can’t tell you how often I ended up in these far away churches because everyone around went to Haunted Housea different church and we should all go to each other’s events—like Haunted Houses…is it me? I can’t be the only one thinking that, while fun is fun, how seriously involved should a church group be in scaring the heck out of small children? Or medium sized children, even…

 

When I was ten or so, I found myself once again standing outside of a church where the only familiar face had designs on my mental health. Most of those things are borderline lame, I suppose. Even in the seventies, when I was ten. Still, it’s because of that one haunted house that I can’t even stand the smell of SpaghettiOs ®—forget about trying to actually eat them.

 

skull

And that’s without even mentioning the kind with meatballs or franks. * shudder *

 

The question today is—do you have any Haunted House memories that still make you shudder? (I capitalize Haunted House because it just feels right. LOL)

 

And the bonus contest—like I said, every comment puts you in the running, but tonight, I’m sending you on a field trip—not a haunted house, though.

 

 

Everyone who goes to http://www.faithinthemoon.com/  and leaves a little comment will be in the running for an ebook, or one of two $3.00 Amazon Kindle E-Gift Cards—not to mention being part of the contest on that site as well.

sakura

I like to share the love, and through a mistake of technology and communication, Faith Luna didn’t end up on the Blog Hop board. But why should you suffer? You shouldn’t. So, here you are.

 

I’ll check over there and each commenter goes in a hat, you get an extra entry in my contests and in Faith’s.

 

and thanks once again to www.stockfreeimages.com for the creepy pictures. * grin * where would we be without them?

 

J.J. Massa

www.jjmassa.com

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Thursday, July 05, 2012

Fourth of July Blog Hop Winners!




Hey All!

I was sad that not too many people had pet pix for me, but that's okay. I know that the holiday is over, and technically, so is the Blog Hop.  Now all that's left is to announce the winners.

So, why don't I do that? No reason at all--Here you go:



The winner of 3 books from any of my series: Wulf

The winner of a necklace (or if she'd rather claim a book or 2) ceagles

And the surprise winner: Patricia--choose any one of my published books

just email me and let me know which books you'd like and in which electronic format.

And because I promised it the other day, here's a picture of Roland, my male cat, and Bear, my sister's dog, hanging out together.


There are many who believe that Roland belongs in a cage.

Not Bear of course--she believes in free will and letting it all hang out.




Sunday, April 08, 2012

Last day of the Hop




Happy Easter, Good Pesach or Passover, Good Theravadin New Year,  and if I left anything out, Have a GREAT Sunday, April 8!

This is the last day of the Easter Blog Hop and what a Hop it's been!

I want to start off by saying that I truly empathize with everyone busy, cooking, chasing after children, and hiding eggs. I've done my fair share of that and then some. My girls are grown now and doing their own thing this holiday.

My eldest is working for an airlines, so please treat her kindly when you fly--today or any day. It's a tense job, especially around the holidays. I won't name her or say where she works; everyone is somebody's loved one. They all deserve love and support, or at least kindness, while they're doing their job, right? My youngest has a variety of tasks that make up her job, not the least of which includes making the holiday fun for children. I wish her strength and positive vibes; because you never know how other people's children will treat you or what will make them happy or sad.

Now, before I share excerpts and goodies with you, I want to thank so many of you for sharing your holiday plans with me. My sister and niece are going out to find something to get into out in the world. They love egg hunts, even though they're a little older than most egg hunters you'll find. As a blind person, everything is a hunt, so those are not as much fun for me. I'm going to spend the day with you guys, and with the characters from the book I'm wrapping up for you. Hopefully, more on that later.

Since you seemed to enjoy the excerpt from Weakspot yesterday (or was it the day before?) I'm going to post a bit of the sequel, Pet Peeve.

I'm also going to post a bit of Civil Liberties--I've really been into it lately--rereading it. I think it's one of my favorites. I bet I could write ten times as much…or five times--if I had it to do over again.




For five years Renaud Brunet has worked for his uncle as a deputy in Xavier Parish, far away from the ballet world of New York, London, Moscow, Australia—all of it.
_
He’s also avoided feminine entanglements, in spite of a very lusty female werewolf on his tail

Excerpt:
  _
            Everybody has a pet peeve. Finding women in various states of undress lurking around his home definitely qualified as Acting Sheriff Renaud Brunet’s biggest pet peeve.
    
        Damned if there wasn’t a half naked woman poking around on his back porch even now, as he parked in his yard at the end of a long day of work. She didn’t even look up when he turned his truck off.

            He didn’t need to use the exceptional sense of smell or hearing that all werewolves enjoyed to locate her. She was right there in the open, waiting for him and poking around on his property, barely dressed.

            With the exception of Zierra, the female lupine who still haunted him, he hadn’t had to deal with various women trying to coerce him into sex with them for the last five years. It had been that long since he stopped dancing professionally.

            Whenever Zierra did show up, he usually let Ziggy, his best friend and fellow officer, handle her in whatever way the other man saw fit. She hated Ziggy.

            Right now, however, there was no one around aside from himself to deal with the nearly naked woman on his porch. That was a shame because he was very dangerous these days.

As he approached her, the wind plastered the tee shirt she wore against her curves and confirmed that she wore very little else. He thought he knew just how to make this little interloper sorry that she’d intruded upon his sanctuary.

            Pulling his gun from it’s holster, he ordered, “Hold it right there,” in a low, I-mean-business voice.

            The young woman froze in place, bending over a box. Stepping in front of her, he snapped a handcuff on one wrist and, pulling her other arm in front of her, he handcuffed that wrist as well.

            “Sir? Oh!” Her eyes went big and round. “Mr. Brunet, Renaud Brunet? Um, I...” she seemed to be having some trouble forming thoughts. Good. She’d be better off if she didn’t speak and push him further over the edge of control.

            “Quiet, lady!” he barked, hauling her into the house. He flicked on the light switch but nothing happened. Swearing, he turned to his captive. “I guess we goanna have to do this in the dark, no?”
      
      He hauled her up the stairs and into the kitchen. Once there, he turned her to face the back of a kitchen chair.

            “Arms out in front! Hold on to that chair!” he ordered her. “Spread your legs! Wide!”

            She did as she was told. He could smell her fear. There was something familiar about her scent but he ignored it. He was fighting to keep his beast under control right now.

            “Mr. Brunet?” she croaked when his hand skimmed her abdomen. “Please, there’s been...”

            “Hush!” he growled, feeling her shake under his hands as they moved up her ribs. “This is called a body search. It happens when you’re caught breaking and entering or trespassing.”

            His hands traveled over her shoulder blades and back to her ribs, slowly moving up. When he cupped her breasts, she whimpered and tried to pull away. Closing his hands more firmly around the small globes, he moved his fingers until each nipple was caught between his index finger and his middle finger.

            “Don’t. Move,” he breathed into her ear. He pinched her nipples between his fingers. She whimpered again.

            His hands released her now-hard nipples and skimmed down to the waist of her barely-there lace panties. He rested his hands on her hips, pressing behind her, knowing she could feel his hard erection. Usually, he just wanted to get rid of the women. He hadn’t even gotten hard for a woman in five years. This one was dangerously close to meeting the predator that lived inside of him.


Later:

After Cili dropped Paul and Ivanna off at school, she decided she ought to stop and get something to eat. The waitress was asking her about her tee shirt when Ziggy sat down across from her.

Ziggy asked to see both sides of her shirt. She knew Renaud was not that far away. She could feel him but she refused to turn and look.

“I get it! I get it!” Ziggy crowed, laughing. “It’s hysterical!”                    

“I guess I was in a bad mood,” Cili confessed in her usual whisper. “I made it last week.”

On one side, it had a sheep that was obviously electric, dialing a rotary wheel. He dialed the number 594. On the back, the words “YEAH, RIGHT!” were written in large script.

“Renaud really pissed you off, huh?” He was trying to warm up to her but she didn’t really trust him.

“What’s up, Ziggy?” She cut him off as best she could in her breathy, husky voice.
“Odd that you should have that particular shirt on when I make my request…”

She glared at him. “No, really, I’m taking a literature course a few nights a week.” He spoke fast.

“You didn’t know that I have a Bachelor’s in Literature and Philosophy. Nobody does – well, Rory, War, and now you. What do you want, Ziggy?”

“Now, I want help with my homework, but mostly, I need a little favor.” He waited while she sipped her coffee and looked at him.

“What?” Her throat was getting sore and she needed to be careful.

“I have this dog” he began. The look on her face was one of surprise. “Could you keep him for a few nights a week while I’m in class?”

“Why don’t you ask Renaud?” She said right away. “You can’t be gone that long, Ziggy?”

~~~


 $3.99
by J.J. Massa
When cop Christian Parker meets D.A. Denny at a bar and takes him home, they have one steamy night of passion. That might be the end of it, but a deposition brings Christian back into Denny's life. Denny tries to deny his feelings for Christian, preferring to be a player, but when a family tragedy brings Christian down, Denny is there to comfort him.

Everything that can go wrong for these two does go astray, and Christian is ready to give up. When another tragedy threatens to tear them apart forever, though, it might just be Denny who has to convince Christian that he's ready to settle down. Can they struggle through everything life throws at them and find a way to stay together?

Excerpt:

Denny came to this bar for the usual reasons--sometimes he needed a man. He liked women well enough. 

There were just some things they couldn’t give to him. Not only that, he had to be discreet. Sure, legally, nobody could say anything about his choice of bed partner. In reality, though, it mattered.

“I’ve been here a couple of times, maybe three or four,” Christian admitted.

“I have seen you here before, but I never noticed you leave with anyone?” Denny made it a question on purpose. What would the other man say? Would he explain why he had never engaged anyone else?

Christian sipped at his drink for a minute and then glanced over at Denny again. “I, um, I’ve got this job…I’m not supposed to be gay, or you know, whatever.”

Denny chuckled again. “You mean bi?”

Christian grinned sheepishly, “Well, I tried to be bi and I don’t think I qualify. Mostly, women just don’t do it for me. My folks couldn’t probably deal with it. My dad’s a military officer. And my job--no way. I, uh, work for the city.”

That statement made Denny feel a bit more comfortable. “Yeah, mine’s pretty much the same. I’m a civil servant, myself,” he admitted, enjoying his scotch. “I wonder, Christian,” he smiled to soften his next comment, “You don’t seem very experienced for someone who is so sure that women don’t work for him.”

“I’ve gone out with women, you know…it’s just…well, I’ve had some experience with men, just casual.”

“My job would frown on it, too,” Denny smiled. “I take it that you’re interested in moving your experience beyond the casual?” he asked, trying to keep it light but get to the point, both at the same time.

Christian picked up his shot of whiskey and gulped it; wide, blue eyes looking at Denny, he nodded. “I, uh, think I know what I want…what I need.”

“What do you think that is, Christian?” Denny asked, his voice an octave lower than normal. Everything about this sweet, young, blond man was pushing all of his buttons.

Christian looked down at the bar and then glanced shyly over at Denny. “I don’t mind being in charge at work…but the rest of the time, I need something else.”

Denny tossed a twenty-dollar bill onto the bar and took Christian by the bicep, appreciating how muscular the young man was. Without a word, the younger man let Denny lead him toward the back of the bar and the rear exit.

Stopping at a hidden alcove near the door, Denny pulled Christian in tight against him. When the other man gasped in surprise, Denny covered Christian’s mouth with his own.

The heady flavor of malted whiskey and healthy young man was overwhelming. They were of a size, though Denny was slightly taller. The slight advantage allowed him more leverage as his mouth caressed over the full, pink lips under his.

He was falling into Christian and he wanted more, needed more. Though it happened sometimes, often in fact, Denny didn’t plan to have sex with Christian in the back of the bar. There wouldn’t be a hand-job in the bathroom for them, no. He wanted plenty of time to explore, play, have his way with the honey blond. 

And, this being Christian’s first full male sexual experience, Denny had every intention of helping himself to any sort of virginity that Christian had left; he didn’t want to do it in the men’s room.

~~~

I'm sure I'll be by later for a last hurrah ; -)   and of course, prizes! I'll double check to see if Drea hands those out, but the surprise chocolate is all me!


Let me know how your day is going. Tell me what you're up to, what you did, what you're reading. Give me whatever you got LOL  I'm interested in what's going on with you, and that's what puts you in the running for the goodies!


Talk to you soon. 

J.J. Massa
www.jjmassa.com
join me on TwitterFacebookmy NCP Blog

Saturday, April 07, 2012

Blog Hop, Day Two


Good Easter Eve to you!
`
I've heard from several people telling me what they're reading and how hard they're working today and tomorrow. To those of you having to go in to work, I'm sending you a big hug.
`
I used to have to work on every holiday--both as a waitress, as a hotel clerk, and later as a help-line worker. In a way, all of those jobs really are related. You'd be surprised the impact you can have on a person's day, especially on a holiday. You might be the only smile or touch of cheer someone gets this weekend.
`
If you DO have to go to work, drop me a note and give me something to write about!  I love to take people from various lines of work or places in life and imagine what they get up to.
`
Okay, enough about all of that for now. I hope to get Figuratively Speaking out tonight. I'm not going to post another excerpt before tomorrow, but I won't leave you with nothing. I know the cover shows a man and a woman, and it's pretty hot. Thanks for that go to Mae Powers--she's more than a great author, she's an excellent cover artist!  Still, the male protagonist for this book, Nikodemos Kosmapoulos, is based on the looks of Theo Theodoridis--This guy:

`
I'm going to leave you--for now--with an excerpt from a book of mine that I recently reread--okay, I reread half of it. I don't remember why right now, but I wanted to find out what Marek, Tyrone, and Cesaer got up to. I only read the first half, so I'd better check out the rest pretty soon… I expect to put out another Agency book this year if all goes well.
`
Here it is:


`
by J.J. Massa
`
Held together and directed by the strength of one person, known only as The Old Man, The Agency acts as the world’s anti-terrorist organization. Regardless of race, creed, or sociopolitical backgrounds, talented young people are gathered, trained, and their skills put to good use, making the world a safer place. Every agent has a tale to tell, every Agency employee comes with a story.
`
This double novella features Tyrone and Marek. Tyrone is a cook, Marek a crack agent also known as "the Shadow", whose love may surprise everyone. The second story pairs Agency operative Lancelot and biochemist Vanya, who team up to stop a major terrorist operation. See what stories The Old Man finds most entertaining. Join The Agency today!
`
Excerpt:
The Agency: Marek and Tyrone
By J.J. Massa
`
Tyrone Johnson was aware the minute the furtive young man slid through the cafeteria doors. It had to be an internal thing because no sound was heard. He barely saw the flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.
`
Still, he’d been waiting for this customer all night. Even knowing he wouldn’t be in until the place was empty, Tyrone had been anxious for his arrival.
`
“Hey there,” he said, keeping his deep voice low as the thin blond slid his tray along the counter.
His answer was a terse nod.
`
“So, how’s that sweet tooth of yours?” Tyrone asked quietly, his tone gentle and lightly teasing. He’d noticed that the junkyard thin man sometimes ate only desserts.
`
Dark gold eyes met his suspiciously. “Is hungry,” came his rusty, croaked reply.
`
Tyrone covertly looked him over. The spare frame looked even thinner than the last time he’d seen him. Paler, too, in fact.
`
“Well that’s just fine,” Tyrone smiled. “Jus’ fine. I’ve got something for you. Made it fresh.” He had to turn away from the startled look on the pallid white face. Leaning down, he fished around under the counter and produced a pecan pie, made special that very morning. “Here you go, friend.” He placed the glass pie plate on the counter. “Let me cut it for you. Come on, we’ll go over here to a table.”
`
Tyrone slid the sugary pie off the counter and turned, carrying it to a table in the corner.  He didn’t look back to see if the other man was following. It might go either way. He couldn’t stop the smile blooming on his face when the almost-emaciated body slipped into a nearby chair.
`
“Is…” Wary eyes looked at the pie and then up at Tyrone. “It is mine?”
`
“Made it just for you. Knew you’d like it. It’s good for you, too, with the nuts and all,” Tyrone babbled, turning and cutting the pie. He deposited a gooey slice of the sweet, syrupy confection onto an empty plate. “I’m Tyrone, in case you didn’t know,” he mumbled, wiping his hands on his cooks’ apron, for want of something to do.
`
“I am a spy,” the other man said dryly, shrugging his shoulders, a smile flitting across his face. “Marek,” he said with a nod, a forkful of pie making it clear that he had nothing else to say.
`
“Marek,” Tyrone repeated, sinking into the vacant chair opposite. “Is that Dutch?”
`
He was thrilled and a little stunned. He’d been nervous that his attentions would chase the other man away. Netting a name and a smile in the same visit was a lottery. Not to mention that this was the most talkative the thin blond had ever been.
`
“Mmmm,” Marek groaned, audibly enjoying his pie. “Slav,” he mumbled.
Taking yet another chance, Tyrone stuck a hand out. “Pleased to meet you, Marek,” he said.
`
Marek studied the extended hand for long moments. Tyrone let it hang there, though he was beginning to feel awkward. Just when he’d decided to pull back, Marek’s bony fingers brushed his palm.
`
“Thank you for this pie, Tyrone,” Marek said formally, adding, “It is very good.”
`
Tyrone could no more stop the grin spreading across his face than he could stop the sunrise, and that’s what it felt like, holding the thin hand in his. “I really hoped you’d like…” his breath caught at the sight of angry red welts wrapped around the wrist and forearm of his companion. He felt his eyes moisten. “Marek?” Someone had hurt him. He reached across the table and covered the welts with his free hand.
`
For a second, Marek attempted to pull his hand away; he stopped, instead reaching over, tapping lightly at Tyrone’s thick wrist. “It is over now, I am here.” He looked down and over again at Tyrone. “Here with this pie.” His lips turned up briefly, producing that elusive smile that Tyrone loved. “I am here with this pie and you.”
~~
The Agency: Vanya and Lance
`
Excerpt
`
The Agency: Vanya and Lance
By J.J. Massa
`
The very idea of touching and being touched by the stranger in the picture terrified him, even sickened him. Conversely, leaning against Lancelot Morgan’s broad chest and having the agent’s muscular arm around him–that felt better than anything ever had in his entire life. He felt safe and he was reluctant to give that up.
`
“I do not know how,” he confessed in a whisper, face pressed to the starched white shirt of the older man.
`
“You don’t… What? You’re afraid that….” Vanya felt Lancelot take a deep breath. “Okay,” the larger man shifted around and tilted Vanya’s face up with one hand. “How about this?” he began, “You’ve kissed someone before haven’t you?”
`
Ni, no, no kiss, no um, how you say, mitsno obiymaty, is embrace with arms, is hug. No,” he repeated becoming upset again. “My inadequacies will cause death, injury! I cannot do this! I cannot!”
`
He struggled to move from Lancelot’s tight embrace but the larger man held him fast. “Hush! Be still,” Lancelot admonished, both arms going around him now. “We are partners on this case, Vanya. We’ll figure this out together.” Vanya struggled halfheartedly one last time. “Together, Vanya,” Lancelot repeated, giving him a hard squeeze.
`
“I am having hug now, yes?” Vanya wheezed, causing Lancelot to laugh and loosen his hold slightly.
`
“Yes, little professor, and if you put your arms around me, we’ll both be having a hug,” Vanya could hear the smile in Lancelot’s voice.
`
Slowly, shyly, Vanya eased first one arm and then the other around Lancelot’s ribs until his hands clutched at the smooth muscles of the other man’s back. They sat silently for a minute and Vanya reveled in the warm closeness of his first hug.
`
When he felt Lancelot shift slightly, he drew back and looked up at him. “You will show me how, yes?” he asked, so grateful for the other man’s presence. “You will teach me?”
`
Lancelot looked down into the pleading eyes of the little chemist and was lost. Vanya didn’t need perfect English to make himself clear. Lance understood that the man in his arms had never made love with anybody, ever, and he wanted Lancelot to teach him how to seduce someone.
`
While Lancelot doubted that this innocent little man could ever purposely seduce anyone, Dr. Havalon would expect Vanya to be experienced with men. If not, their hand would be tipped. Besides, he reasoned, it wasn’t right that the young man’s first sexual experience be a job.
`
Sliding one hand up to cup the back of Vanya’s tilted head, Lancelot sunk his fingers into the gilded silk of his hair and lowered his lips to caress the pounding pulse at his temple.
`
“I’ll teach you,” he agreed, moving to kiss first the left eye, then the right, and ending with a kiss on his nose.
`
“I feel odd,” Vanya whispered. “My heart, it beats fast and I feel both cold and hot. My limbs shake. Perhaps I am ill?”
`
“No, Professor,” Lancelot murmured warmly, brushing his lips across a smooth cheek. “You aren’t ill, you’re excited. And maybe you’re attracted to me just a little?”
`
Vanya tilted his head and Lancelot fought a smile as the studious young man analyzed that statement.
“I have long admired your looks. You are tall and muscular. Strong with dark hair and dark eyes.  If only I were more….”
`
Lancelot cut him off by dropping a light kiss on Vanya’s startled mouth. “Not one more word,” he growled. “You are a very attractive man, Vanya. I thought so this morning and I think so now.”
`
Saying the words and looking into Vanya’s innocent and open face, Lancelot knew he was telling the truth. The minute he’d seen that mischievous twinkle in those intelligent and slightly exotic eyes, his blood had pooled and heated in his groin. It had surged again when he’d seen that disheveled, sun kissed mop in The Old Man’s office.
`
For Lancelot, teaching Dr. Vanya Ambrozak about the pleasures of the flesh would not be a hardship--not at all.
~~~
And that will do it for just a little while. I'll be back this evening.  I want to tell you about some of the jewelry we've made and how it connects with each book of mine.
`
Most important, though, is finding out what's going on with you this weekend. The more you tell me about you and what's going on with you--the better your chances of winning. Have fun when you can!



                  
    
         

I've already said it a time or two, but my prizes are a copy of any of my ebooks--reader's choice (even if you want to hold it for the next release), a pair of earrings (reader's choice--look HERE for EARRINGS--) ,and GERTRUDE HAWK gift, because chocolate goes with reading like…well, like chapters and words




See you soon!


 (just an example...)

J.J. Massa
www.jjmassa.com
join me on TwitterFacebookmy NCP Blog