Tag Archives: musings

Billionaire Angels & Demons Erotic Menage Series

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I am patiently waiting to hear back from some people that I have sent stuff out to. In the meantime, I am in edits currently. LOTS of edits.

Plus, I am writing a short story/novella for my NAME OF THE GAME series which comes after book 1. It’s about the wedding and some craziness happens at it. Tequila makes pants fall off and it removes all inhibition when you meet up with your former coach. Two couples end up sleeping together. And the repercussions are EPIC. Plus, there is an ass whooping which has been a long time coming. And a comeuppance long overdue. It’s deliciousness in a small package. Little can be mighty. Stayed tuned for WEDDING GAMES.

BUT…BUT… BUT… the thing that I am MOST EXCITED ABOUT… other than completing a slow burn romantasy and almost being done with book two of my LG CUSTOM series about hot muscle car guys who own shops and race cars and the women they love is… my BRAND NEW SERIES: BILLIONAIRE ANGELS & DEMONS MENAGE series. It’s going to be a super dirty erotic romance series featuring Demons and the women they love. It takes place around the world, in Macau, Las Vegas, and Monaco, the locations of fabulously luxurious hotels and casinos.

Even though it’s a menage, there will be at least one MMFM and a couple MFs somewhere along the series. Also, not every book is a MFM, some are MMF. And I can considering a FMF one as well. Lots of mashups. But what they will ALL have is hot as hell sex. Smoking hot. There will be darkness, some light, and a whole lot of spanking, tying up, and lubricating. As always, my books feature some trauma because I feel that it is integral to the human condition. But there is ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS… a happy ending.

In the first book BETRAYED, we’ll meet Damon, Marcus, and Savannah. She’s on vacation… finally away from her pain in the ass family who ALWAYS look to her to fix all their problems. She’s having the time of her life and meets some cute guys. She ends up making some questionable choices in men and bad decisions will just happen. But an emergency back home has her leaving unexpectedly and with no notice. Almost a full year later, she’s back. Can she find the one or both the guys from before? Little does she know, they’ve been looking for her as well.

I can’t wait to share it with you!

Brief Author Update

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I have submitted Haven:Bondmates to Entwined Publishing. They published the two novellas, FarSeen and Night Blind, in the same universe that the book is set in. Haven:Bondmates delves deeper into the magic of the parallel Otherkind universe and begins a suspense mystery which is killing the OtherKind and interfering with their mate bonds. A coalition of humans and OtherKind are medically and magically experimenting on the OtherKind learning how to kill the mate bonds, which has the potential to alter the very fabric of their world. As more and more OtherKind turn up dead, the race is on to find out who is behind these nefarious acts and why they are engaged in these experiments. This is a multi-book series that is as hot as it is fast paced and suspenseful. Entwined have had it for almost three months and I am having a nervous breakdown. Fingers crossed that they love it and agree to publish it!

I have the rights back to both books in my Name of the Game series, Home Run and Hat Trick. I have taken the first steps to revise them from novellas into novels. They will be expanded and rereleased at some point this year. I have an editor and now I need a cover designer. I have also a mapped out two more books in the series. One about a male rugby player, Hookers and Haka, and a female basketball player, Hang Time. Be on the lookout for the rereleases and the new ones as well. This is my first foray into self-publishing and it should be interesting to say the least.

I am in the process of editing a huge new romantasy saga. Can’t wait to share all the deets. Also, I am editing a contemporary suspense thriller, Drive, while I write book two, Shift, in the LG Custom series as well. More to come on that.

Thanksgiving, Love, and Green Bean Casserole

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About 30 years ago, I got married. Now, it’s been a while since I’ve been a Newlywed. But some memories will never fade.

Like how much I love green bean casserole. I have since a friend of mine made some for me in college. I’m half-Asian. I grew up with fried rice and noodles. And very few casseroles. I would occasionally encounter one at my Aunt Jessie’s. My dad’s side of the family are from Kansas and are salt of the Earth people. But our trips to visit family back in the day were expensive. And therefore, few and far between. As a result, I never had green bean casserole until I left to go off to college.

An obsession was born. I liked it classic and I liked to mess around with the recipe even back then. Adding in chicken or changing the mushroom broth up. All of that. It wouldn’t be until the latest decade of my life before I would have another green bean casserole revelation. Making home made mushroom stock. And homemade cream of mushroom soup. Using fresh green beans and just fresh ingredients all the way around. This adult version taste nothing like the classic and a thousand times better.

Because of my love for green bean casserole, I made it ALL THE TIME. And my husband ate it. After a year into my green bean casserole obsession, my husband FINALLY told me he hated green bean casserole. That he threw it out when I wasn’t looking. But he never said anything because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. And he thought he could ride out my obsession, but the sheer amount of green bean casserole I was making was making that possibility impossible. So he came clean.

And that’s when I knew he loved me beyond reason. Well, I knew even before that but this cinched it, for sure.

I don’t make green bean casserole so much anymore. Just once a year. At Thanksgiving.

It’s Been Thirty-Five Years

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This coming Monday. It will be my 35 year wedding anniversary.

We eloped. And got married in a little blue church. And on Monday those vows will have been in existence for thirty years. It’s almost unbelievable.

It’s not all ups. There are tons of downs.

It’s about perseverance and grit.

And love.

The everyday kinda of love. The every way kind of love. It’s making love both a verb and a noun. It’s about showing up everyday. Rain or shine. Mostly in rain. Because when it’s sunny you always want to be there. It’s also finding something in showing on rainy days.

Writing about love and sex is impacted by experiences of real life. There is a joy in knowing all the nuances of an adult relationship. And being able to convey on the page to others. There is a fullness to a love interest which has developed over decades and not days or months. A rich tapestry that maybe isn’t in a shorter lived entwining.

Is there a secret to a relationships longevity? I’m not sure. I think I’m just a bitch who doesn’t like to admit defeat. About anything. Most especially about my life partner choice. Because he’s the bomb. Don’t think I’m the only one showing everyday. Nope, he does, too. And it has to be that way or it doesn’t work correctly. You can’t have just one person in a two person tango being the sole wanter of the dance’s success. You need them both to care. Deeply.

Or it could be that I supported him and he supported me. As long as you can afford it and it doesn’t go against your morals, when your partner wants something… you should just say yes. You should be the facilitator of your spouse’s ability to dream and strive and try stuff. Not the person harshing the mellow. If you can’t afford it, say no. If it’s immoral, say no. Otherwise. say yes. Why not? And why would you be anything other than totally supportive if it’s not a financial burden and it’s not a bad thing.

I don’t have huge amounts of words for detailing why we’ve made it when so many others haven’t. But we have. And if the last thirty years are any indication, I’m pretty confident if I live another thirty years, it will be with him. He just rocks like that. And we fit. But that could be because we grew up together and became adults married. Or it just could be that he has a nice ass.

Migrating Some Stuff Over

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In the upcoming months, I am migrating my writings on another blog over to my blog. I want to keep my content as mine.

If you feel like you are experiencing Deja Vu, you are. Or it could be a glitch in the Matrix and you are living in a real life simulation where we are live action role playing so that Aliens can eat our energy. Or our planet’s energy. Or whatever that reason is that is the foundation of these types of stories.

I will try to add in new content as well. Especially with my installment piece.

Enjoy!

~D

Reflections of a Lived Life

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I just recommended the Artist Way by Julia or Julie Cameron to a friend on Facebook. Now, most of the people on my personal FB page are friends from high school. I went to a weird, freak high school where people have stayed in touch with each other over the years. We still have a pretty good turnout for both kids and teachers at our reunions. Although, they’ve gotten grayer as the years have moved on.

Dating

I stumbled on the Artist Way due to a recommendation from my bff. It literally was a necessary thing at a period in my life when I needed it. I wrote stream of consciousness in the mornings for almost three years. Probably longer than I thought I needed, but looking back far shorter than I should have. My mother’s death, wherein I went into a deep, dark depression fora few years probably could’ve benefited from journaling every morning. I forgot during that period as I was in survival mode. I wish I had kept up the writing so it would’ve already been there. I have given a lot of thought to getting back to it.

I still take myself on dates and buy myself presents. I spend ALL of my $10. I leveled up from $5 because inflation, yo.

Weirdly, the one other thing which has helped my mind is an amalgamation of a short story I read in 9th grade and something I read many years later. When I was in 9th grade, Mrs. Sinclair, who was my 9th grade English teacher gave us tons of short stories throughout the year. The one I remember in relation to this thought was one that was a science fiction. It was about the invention of teleportation. Humans has invented a teleporter. But in order to have living things alive from one point to the other, anything alive had to be put to sleep. So, you are put to sleep, you are teleported, and then you wake up. Less than a minute or two. A smarty pants boys wanted to know how and why a person had to be asleep to teleport. So, he took drugs or somehow concocted to stay awake during the teleportation. He ended up completely insane when he arrived on the other side.

Although the teleportation took only a second or two, the human mind when it teleports and doesn’t have a frame of reference perceives it as infinity. His brain had live an infinite amount of time… alone and in a vacuum. He came out insane. In case you have figured it out by now, humans are community species. We are built to live together with others. otherwise, bad things happen.

The second thing which hammered this home was Stephen Covey’s first 7 Habits book. I don’t remember anything else about that book today. But I remember this: Infinity resides in the space between action and reaction. The old ways of doing something doesn’t need to be kept because you have all the time and choices in the world as you sit in that space between the initial action and the attendant reaction.

When you put that together with the short story, you get a complete thought, in my mind at least.

Now, when you put all this together, using stream of consciousness writing to help your brain gain more time between action and reaction. Making that period of time go in slo-mo.

Anyway, I woke up this morning thinking these things and thought I would share them with you.

Infinity resides in that space between breathes.

Love in the 21st Century

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By: Liana

We moved across country again. We got a job offer we couldn’t turn down and it came at a very opportune time in our lives and, so, we packed up our stuff and moved across country again. Back to where we came from. Alaska.

Meshing two lives can be hard.

But way back in the beginning of our careers, a sacrifice was made so that one of the two could shine. And now, way at the end of our first careers- I think everyone should have a couple or at least some serious hobbies- that first sacrifice can be honored by allowing the moves and the travel. Flexibility in work helps a great deal in upward mobility and finding positions which are satisfying and worthwhile. He made the reverse sacrifice for me. How could I not for him? And this circles back to saying yes to everything your significant other wants, which isn’t illegal and is within one’s means. Say yes to every attempt at attaining a dream. It might take a hundred frogs to get to the Prince. Failure isn’t bad. Loss of faith, however, can be severely detrimental. Always be the cheerleader of the person you love and who matters to you. Always. Let others in the world be a discouraging voice. Let yours be ever encouraging.

Back in Alaska, though. I wasn’t sure it would happen. But it did. And it’s not a bad thing. And it might help my writing, which would be a good thing. Alaska is a majestic state. I hope I can fashion some stories to treat her with care and love.

#MeToo

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There is another thing happening on social media about women facing harassment or sexual assault. And as always the first couple of days are filled with solidarity and kumbiya moments. Further, as the days wear on, another group shows up.

This group is the THAT’S NOT ENOUGH group.

Without much effort, they tell the women who have been sharing their hash tagged MeToo that they aren’t doing enough. Just by speaking up.

It’s not enough that they bare their wounds to the world in open daylight.

Some how, again, they aren’t enough. Their response isn’t enough.

Which is what their attackers made them feel, of course. That they wren’t enough to be treated with human decency. That they weren’t enough to be given consideration to feel secure in the physical safety. That they weren’t enough of a human even to treat with basic decency. That they weren’t enough and everything they had could be taken without asking and without impunity.

At some point, they come forward. And join in a moment to show just how prevalent sexual assault is. Then they get told that they aren’t enough. They aren’t saying enough. They aren’t doing enough. They aren’t enough.

Fuck you and your enough bullshit.

Listen, the first step to fixing a problem is identifying it. I really wish these never enough bitches had taken some basic and rudimentary science classes, wherein they might’ve learned that they hypothesis is JUST AS IMPORTANT as the experiment. Sometimes, it’s the key. Because asking the right questions gets you to the answer faster. While wrong questions gets you more hypothesis and more testing and revisions and more work.

If every woman who has been sexually assaulted says me, too out loud, that is all that is needed to highlight the pervasiveness of sexual assault. It happens everyday to every women everywhere.

Because there are people- in positions of power, positions of trust, position to help- who don’t know. Who don’t understand just how all encompassing this shit is.

Once we can get everyone on the page with this shit happens everyday and maybe we should do something about, then and only then should the next step be asked about. The what have you done for it lately crowd gets to get in the spotlight. Until then, #metoo.

30 Year Anniversary

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Yes, someone married me.

And yes, we’ve been married for 30 years this year. October 16, to be exact. He deserves to be canonized. Seriously. He’s a saint. But then again, so am I.

Our marriage has matured with the both of us. I can’t remember a time he wasn’t in my life. We’ve been married for all of our adult lives. Which is pretty cool. And presents a problem or two.

He got to watch me grow up. With all the growing pains that entails. Sometimes, I feel jealous of couples who significant other only saw them mature or at their best. Mine got to see me at my worst, as I figured things out, as I matured into my adult self. And I got to see that for him as well.

Has it been easy? Umm, yeah no.

Our relationship was maturing along with us. Going through it’s own growing pains. The ups. The downs. Figuring things out. Forming the marriage into something good and beneficial for us both.

Am I grateful? So much.

I couldn’t imagine going through cancer with another human being. He’s been a rock. And so supportive he gives it new meaning. My recovery from cancer and the treatments that kill cancer- and me- has been smooth because of his unwavering support. Plus, he loves me and my new body. He loved me and my old body. He just loves me.

You can’t know what it means to hit 30 years with the man I have. It’s exciting, comforting, and so fucking awesome. He’s so fucking awesome.

And no matter what, it’s still the two of us against the world.

Here’s to 30 more. If my body is willing! I’d love 30 more.

Breast Cancer and Other News Update

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It’s been a while. I feel like it’s been an eternity. It’s been months at least. And that’s because cancer treatments kick your ass.

No, really.

I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but it the treatments that’ll kill ya. Seriously, the business of fighting for your life against a vicious disease is a hard battle. And I am fatigued. But I am coming out of the fog.

My hair is the shortest it’s been since I decided I wanted to be a buddhist monk at 3 or 4 and had my mom shave my head. I tried to keep it, y’all. And if my chemo had not been the worst, most dangerous and strongest chemo around- they call it the red devil, if that tells you anything- I would’ve kept most of it. As it was, I kept about 25%. It just simply looked too terrible not to shave off into a boy cut and go all Audrey Hepburn.

Cold capping works. It just doesn’t work very well if you do the chemo I did. And then if you have a semi-formal event- like a college graduation that you can’t miss because it’s your oldest child and you wouldn’t miss that shit even if you were bald on the head and hairy on the leg- that you must attend without a baseball cap. So you go and get a nice short do. And proudly wear that shit to your son’s graduation. Proud and loud, bitches. I beat cancer.

I did. For right now. Cancer always comes back. They don’t talk about that. But it comes back. What you want is for it to not come back for a really long time, like 15 years or more. But my body scans tell the docs I have no other cancer hot spots. And the chemo plus radiation treatment plan kills rogue cells which have broken off and might be roaming free.

It’s been 5 weeks post radiation. The black skin is all gone off my chest. And almost all gone off my back. Soon, I will be back to my old self. Well, without one boob. And with a wicked fucking abdomen scar. But with my life. And my brain in tact. Not that my noggin has been much help lately. Chemo brain is REAL, yo. But slowly, I am coming back.

I attended a Master Class with Alexandra Sokoloff this past weekend. It was awesome. Got my creative brain and juices flowing. And I wrote the most words I’ve written since I started this whole cancer saga.

Anyway, here’s my new do. Hopefully, my hair grows quickly. And I am so glad this whole no hair thing happened now. If this had happened back when I was younger, I think I would’ve been completely devastated. As it is now, short hair is just another thing. I’m alive. And that is all that matters.

And here’s hoping I have many more words this week. And I want to do an update on my erotic gothic thriller story. I’ve got some ideas.

Now. I need to go write. And take supplements to try and get these strands GROWING!