Everything in the world seems to be categorized. Solid or liquid? Flat or round? Tall or short? Thin or fat? Old or young? You have to be SOMETHING. Everyone says so. So today I want to know – are you animal, vegetable or mineral?
To begin with, anything that’s never been alive is classified as mineral. That’s the rock at the side of the road, the chair you sit on, and your teenage son who hasn’t moved off the couch since he got his first Gameboy. The only way you can tell there might be a sign of life is the occasional, barely perceptible rhythmic nod of his head to the music from his iPod, filtering into his head through his earbuds.
I’d say it’s the computers we work on, except I think mine has a life of it’s own. It eats my documents, swallows my emails, and types by itself, I know that for a fact because when I look up at the monitor, I know I didn’t write the words I see. So maybe a mineral is something that’s never been alive but suddenly woke up.
Like me, when I decided to write a romance novel and invented a new definition for obsessive.
If you’re vegetable, you grow out of the ground, on a tree or bush, or sometimes in the corners of motel bathrooms. You can be a blushing vegetable, like a tomato (oh, wait, a tomato is really a fruit). A long, skinny vegetable like a carrot or a string bean, or my fourth grade writing teacher, Miss Drinkwater. That woman invented the term penmanship. You can be a golden vegetable, like corn, with a touch that turns everything into money.
Or finally, are you an animal? Round and fluffy like a ewe. Lean and fast like a racehorse. Snuggly and purring like a cat. A squawker, like a chicken (oh, wait, that was my aunt Lena). Slow and contented like a cow (nope, don’t go there. LOL).
Me? I think I’m a little bit of everything. I wasn’t even alive until I met my wonderful husband. I grew like a vegetable as I plunged into my writing. And an animal who’s hungry for life.
So, what are you – animal, vegetable or mineral.
Title: Overnight Sensation by Desiree Holt
Publisher: Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance
Length: 39 pages (estimated)
Abbie Lawlor only wanted a drink with her friend at the end of a long, hard week. Her feet hurt, her head ached and she just wanted one cosmos then home to soak in the tub. She sure wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone. Her luck with men was worse than bad. Too bad with visitors flooding the town the bar at The Menger Hotel was so jammed a sheet of paper would barely fit between two people. Which was why Sam Burdette ended up pressed against her so she could feel every detail of his body.
The heat the flared between them could have set fire to everyone in the bar. The invisible link between a Dom and a sub made her forget all her aches and pains. It was why she let the very sexy Texas Ranger coax her out of the bar and up to his room for some very off the wall sex that turned a casual “Hello” into an overnight sensation.
“Some of our men serve as guards, so I know a lot about it.”
“Guards?” She frowned. “I know we have Texas Rangers who pull sentry duty.” “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled. “Samuel J. Burdette, Texas Ranger, Company E, El Paso, at your service.”
Many people, both in and out of the life, claimed they couldn’t tell a Dom or a sub outside the arena of play. Unless of course they were in a committed relationship and then the signs were there, if one knew what to look for. But Abbie had been on her search for so long she had finely tuned radar.
In all her fantasies of finding the Dom she sought, how many times had he taken the form of a Texas Ranger, the state’s elite crime fighting organization? They were powerful men, self-assured, part of the oldest law enforcement agency in North America, with statewide jurisdiction. And for her, the ultimate symbol of the kind of Dom she kept looking for.
Maybe, just maybe….
She mentally shook her head. No, she was an idiot to hope that—
“You do like Texas Rangers, right?” Sam watched her, one corner of his mouth kicked up in the hint of a smile. But what glittered in his eyes was no smile. Instead she saw heat, hunger, lust, need. And something indefinable that made her breath catch in her throat.
“Yes, I do,” she finally answered. She’d better get her brain in gear or he’d think he’d found an idiot and a simpleton and dump her back in the bar. “As a matter of fact, they’re my favorite kind of man.”
His look nearly melted her soaked thong.
“Good.” His thumb brushed gently over her knuckle, as much a gesture of possession as desire. “My kind of woman.”
Oh, yes, please. Please.
About the Author:
Desiree Holt’s writing is flavored with the rich experiences of her life, including a long stretch in the music business representing every kind of artist from country singer to heavy metal rock bands. For several years she also ran her own public relations agency handling any client that interested her, many of whom might recognize themselves in the pages of her stories. She is twice a finalist for an EPIC E-Book Award, a nominee for a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award, winner of the first 5 Heart Sweetheart of the Year Award at The Romance Studio as well as twice a CAPA Award for best BDSM book of the year, winner of the Holt Medallion, multiple winner of the Whipped Cream Book of the Week Award and is published by five different houses.
Romance Junkies said of her work: “Desiree Holt is the most amazing erotica author of our time and each story is more fulfilling then the last.”