What is it about breasts that turn a normal man into a lecherous, drooling man who can’t stop looking at your chest?

I mean, really?

They’re just boobs, after all. And it’s not like you’re even getting the full frontal. It’s called cleavage.

You boys have been up close and personal with them since the day you were born. Granted, they were your mom’s, but you know…

You probably looked at your first dirty magazine you found under your parent’s bed when you were but an adolescent. Right before the first time you had to shave and your voice pitched to a high octave. And then when you hit your 20s, you decided they were your favorite part of a woman because they were squeezably soft.

I have news for you, boys. They’re not Charmin. Okay?

I wear low cut shirts/dresses to work. Yes. To work. Because I’m not going to look like this forever - meaning having boobs that don’t droop to my ankles - so I may as well show it off while I got it. Right? 

So. I wore my famous black and red dress with the kimono sleeve and the v-neck. It shows a lot of cleavage and I could totally tone it down if I didn’t wear the fasten in the front bra. Is this like way TMI or what? Anyway. I totally forgot I had a serious business meeting with a web developer and my boss - really I did. Turns out, he talked to me the entire time. Even gave me one of those sly winks once.

Hello.

Now, don’t get me wrong. He wasn’t sleazy about it. I mean, he’s a super nice guy and I have to admit I didn’t remember meeting him until he walked into the conference room and said, “Hi, Michelle.” I looked at him a minute with, “Whaaaa… oh right,” going on in my head before it dawned on me that we’d met once before.

It was a productive meeting and I could just tell he couldn’t stop looking. Poor guy. I didn’t mean to do it. I really didn’t.

And did I mention he’s a professional photographer, too? He said he could do headshots for me. I told him I was a “starving artist and it’d have to be, like, you know… FREE.”

I may just take him up on it… right after I adjust the girls back into position…

A week or two ago, I took an online writing workshop (frankly, the first I had ever done). Shelley Bradley came and spoke to my RWA chapter and mentioned she had a class on Storyboarding. (She’s actually having another hosted by the Red River Romance Writers later this summer–if you can take it, DO! But the link is not up yet. . . so keep checking back for more info.) Several of the chapter members thought this was great and I think half of us signed up.

So . . . I ordered the materials needed and of course they don’t arrive until day two–don’t get me started about the $2 yard stick I bought that came in a box all by itself only it was a partial piece–and don’t get me started on the silence I got on the other end of the line when I told the gal, “I got inches 1-9 and 18-36. I was hoping to have gotten all 36.” TOTAL silence–apparently dry humor is lost on customer service. . . Sarcasm is a lost art form I think  . . . anyhoo, I digress.

When I had all my supplies ready I look at the e-mails and I am SO far behind. I decided to wait until the end and wade through it all. I printed up the actually lessons delivered and sat down trying to use my doggie-door WIP to plot the storyboard, but it was NOT working for me. So I pulled out a different story that I had worked up, but not written on, still a no-go. I couldn’t get my head around the process for works already started.

I moved onto to an idea I had germinating in my head for a while but had yet to put any of it to paper. I holed myself up in my room over the weekend with the instructions and went step-by-step. (Okay, I did get hung up on one question for a day or two, but once I had it squared away in my mind, I was ready to roll) I made this grid and filled out that sheet. Then you are supposed to come up with “scenes”. And I got stuck. I had the over-all idea of the story, but my write-as-I-go brain was fighting the idea of coming up with too much.

So when dinner times rolls around, I set aside all my work, we do the family thing, then watch TV for a bit. When I get back to the scene-building, it flows, and I mean like the Trinity River after last week’s storms. . . I get 33 scene ideas written down. WAHOO! I plotted a HUGE chunk of the book–again WAHOO! I haven’t plotted a book in ages, I am so very happy!

It’s another Ghost story. . . tenativly titled Giving up the Ghost

Next week–progress report on the book  

I’ve been saving this……LOL I heard this on the radio about two weeks ago and I only got the first five but there’s apparently some book out with the New Rules of Love. So I thought I’d share what I got with you……

1. Super-picky is the way to go to find that Prince. People who do speed dating and online dating are less likely to find love.

Obviously there are going to be exceptions to that rule, but if that’s the case, I should have found my prince by now.

2. Don’t put your best foot forward. Show him your flaws.

When you invite him over to watch movies, I suggest your uglies t-shirt and yoga pants (mine have paint stains on them).

3. Don’t hide your neediness. Be Honest about it.

ok…I guess this goes back to #2. Stalkers need not apply.

4. Leave him alone when he’s down. Don’t bug him about what’s wrong. He’ll forever associate you with that bad time in his life.

“Honey, I’m so sorry you got fired. I can’t see you tonight. I’m going out with the girls.

5. Sorry but this is a big DUH. Don’t have a baby to save your relationship! Apparently your happiness quotient drops off drastically within three years of having a child, so having a baby to fix the relationship isn’t going to help.

Gee, I wonder why. So what do you think? Are these total bs? And what are your rules of love?

I think I’ve narrowed it down.

For whatever reason, I seem to write best between the hours of 3:00-5:00 a.m. 

I guess this is a good thing to know.

Unless it’s a bit extreme, and you’ve got to deal with little issues like interrupted sleep and a sucky day job.

What’s your prime time, and how do you arrange your schedule to suit it?

Since Dennie brought up the subject of sex… I figured I’d keep it going.

When does sex turn into feelings of love? Is it a moment where something inside just snaps or is it a gradual thing a person just comes to realize.

As a woman, it can be difficult to separate the two - sex because it’s sex and sex because it’s love. But as a jaded women, it’s not so difficult. You take the sex for what it is - an act that gives you the moment of pleasure you so desperately need - and you don’t worry about those feelings of love. (And I’m using “you” collectively.)

When those three little words come into play - you know the ones; it’s that dreaded l-word phrase - does it change things? Do you sit back and think that maybe it is more than just sex?

As a writer, I try to keep the sexual tension high between my hero and heroine, but sometimes that can be difficult when they’re saving the world…and each other. So if you have an action packed story, with lots of gratuitious sex and violence, is it okay for your H/H to say “I love you” by chapter three? I’m exaggerating of course. hehe

Hell, it’s taken me until nearly the end of book 2 for that magic l-word phrase to come into play and only after the two of them have been through hell. I’ve never been comfortable writing that phrase between my two characters and maybe that’s because there’s not enough growth between the two of them. (Hell I’m not comfortable saying it in real life. LOL)

So I guess the question is… do you expect love and sex and marriage to go hand-in-hand when you pick up a pick? I guess if that’s the type of book you’re picking up… would be the answer. Or is it okay for your characters to have sex without the love…at first?

Recently, I have seen talk about sex levels–bringing the heat vs. leaving it behind closed doors. Okay so it made me think of my mother tsking and shaking her head, then saying,

“Why do you have to add all that. It’s gratuitous sex. You’re just pandering to the public.” 

Um… yeah… and?

No, not really. I do NOT pander. I write sex scenes, because for me, it is a natural progression of the story. And it works for me. I had a writer friend tell me she didn’t think she could write (and leave it in the final product) a sex scene. It just didn’t feel right to her. And it’s not that she CAN’T write the scene–she has written them before and one in particular sticks out in my mind and was very well done. But on a whole, it just doesn’t work for her.

One of my most favorite books had nothing more than a kiss or two and it worked. It was exactly as the story warranted and afterwards, thinking on it, had she gone farther, it wouldn’t have seemed right.

And I have read some SPECTACULAR books that turned my ears red while reading, they were so hot–and it was just what that book needed!

I can remember the very first time I wrote a SEX scene. It just so happens, it was in the first book I wrote–as an adult, not the many I did when I was a tween–I was a good little girl.  (No really, I swear…)  But as I wrote the scene, it just felt natural and I was pleased with it. I have since ratcheted up my heat some.

Here at SFC, we have varying degrees of heat, but we all have the heat nonetheless. From enjoyable to POP-cycle melting scenes.

So let me ask you, my dear writer friends–what do you prefer in your writing? How far do you/would you go? And awsome reader friends–how about you? Do you like the sweet or do you want the POP-cycle melting scorcher?

No one got them all right!!!!

Ya’ll need to read the blog more! LOL

After much discussion and slowness on my part (sorry i was gone all weekend and I’m still catchign up) we decided we’d award the prizes to the two who got the closest–Kim W and Sandy!!!! Ladies please email us. Email Mik at michelle @ michellemiles.net

We still haven’t figured out why everyone thought I wrote the topless maid but it was Raine!
Mik was first with the naked ice cream stealing scotsman, then Raine, then Me with the daddy kidnapping and Denise with the errant lingerie!

thanks to everyone for playing! Tune in next month for something new!

OMG!

It’s SHIPPING!!!!!!! and there’s a whole chapter up! OMG

The excerpts have been posted.

The prizes have been named.

Can you guess who’s who?

Winners will be posted Monday!

If you haven’t guessed, post them below.
You’ve got……
Naked Scotsman Eating Icecream
Topless Maid Serving Tea
Young Boy Kidnapping His Dad
and
Chick Loses Sexy Red Lingerie

Who wrote what????

“Do you want me to show you around? We have a corral and the barn’s around back.” Drew tried not to role his eyes. Damn, I sound like a horny teenager trying to get the girl alone. 

Alex shook her head “I should probably unload the car first. I don’t want my cameras to get too hot.” 

“We’ll help.” Drew slugged his brother. “Right, Matt?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“You don’t have to do that. I can manage…” 

“Nonsense.” Drew opened the back door as Matt popped open the trunk. 

“No really.” Alex scramble to the other rear passenger door and all but lunged into the back of the car. “Where is that damn thing?” She shoved a couple of bags around. 

Drew saw flimsy red material on the floorboard, hidden under the driver’s seat. Deep crimson dots stained her cheeks when he picked up the garment. It wasn’t until her reaction registered that he even noticed the bustier in his hand. He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak.  

“Is this what you’re looking for?” 

“He-he.” Nervous laughter tittered out of her. “Yeah.” 

Drew’s eyebrow arched. Holy hell. His mind raced with images of her in his bed, under him, over him, just about anywhere with that damn thing on.  

“Um, it’s kind of a joke.” If possible, her cheeks reddened more. “From Susie.” 

“What are y’all two yacking about?” Matt closed the trunk.  

Alex lunged for the lingerie but Drew was quicker and shoved it under his loose t-shirt. “Not a thing.” He snagged the two large bags off the backseat. “Got everything, Alex?” 

# 

“I, uh, let me grab my purse.” She found the matching panties and stuffed them into her handbag. Her stomach pitched. “I should have thrown that sucker out the window.” 

“What’s that?” Drew’s brother hefted her suitcase as if it weighed nothing. 

“Sorry. Talking to myself.” Heat suffused her cheeks. What was Drew going to do with bustier? And could a woman die of humiliation? The way her head swirled and chest ached she didn’t think it too far fetched. “Where…” her voice squeaked as they rounded the side of the large ranch house, “where am I staying?” 

“The guest quarters in the back.” Drew tilted his head toward the far side of the property. “Is that okay?” 

Thank God yes, she wanted to say, she couldn’t bear to look Drew in the eye and opted for, “Great thanks.” An entirely separate house would put a good distance between herself and Drew. And major temptation. 

“Is something wrong? Matt slowed his pace and nudged his brother. “Did you crack another rib on that stupid horse?”  

“No. Why?”  

“You keep holding your side.” 

Drew’s step faltered and Alex bit back a giggle. Teach him to steal a woman’s unmentionables.  

“Drew if you’re not feeling well, you should go lie down.” Joking she could do. “Matt and I handle all this.” She looped her handbag on her shoulder and reached for her camera bag. “I can take that. I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.” 

“I’ve got it.” Drew dodged her hand. His eyes narrowed.  

Oh she was going to pay for that, she could tell already.