I Ain't Said Nothin' But A Word...

I love to flirt. I had an excellent teacher and learned very early in life that the subtleties of flirting could actually move mountains. My 85-year old grandmother was a notorious flirt in her day and after experiencing her in action it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that such a talent could get a woman far if she were so inclined. Nowadays, when we see sex and relationships being marketed no differently from milk and cookies, young women have no reason to flirt nor do they even bother with learning the nuances of how. Watch a music video today and one would think all a woman needs to do is throw on a thong and gyrate, or all a man needs is a set of rims on his ride and gold grills in his mouth. Young folks is just puttin' it out there and there is nothing subtle about their game. They're leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Back in my grandmother’s day, women dressed impeccably, carried themselves like royalty and their conduct was typically (to the publ

I write. It’s what I do. More importantly, it’s what I love to do. Many would say I do it well. Just as many might disagree. I know that I do the very best that I can and with every new book, I try to do a better job than I did on the story before. I’m published in the contemporary romance genre. But romance is not the only thing that I write. I did not consider my first book a romance novel. (Neither did hardcore romance fans!) Some clever editing made it so. (Hardcore fans didn't necessarily agree.) Some proponents of more literary writings have been known to malign romance writers and their work. Castigating what one does not know comes easily to some folks. But hey, who am I to throw stones when I once lived in that same glass house myself? I remember well when I would readily dismiss romance novels, thinking them in some way inferior. Some exceptionally talented authors who write romance set me straight with the absolute beauty of their prose. I know now that no matter wh

I have a history of driving my family crazy. My parents swear I am personally responsible for every single gray hair atop their two heads. I readily admit that I was a child from hell. Every parent's worse nightmare come true. I was famous for doing things and going places I knew I had no business doing and being. So much so that sometime shortly after my sixteenth birthday my mother tossed up her hands and declared she was too through with me. She announced that she didn’t care what I did as long as I adhered to three rules: Don’t get pregnant, don’t do drugs, and don’t call her from jail. Life was too sweet from that moment on. I’m not one to follow but so many rules anyway and most who know me well will tell you that I often dance to a different beat. And, that drives my husband right up a wall! He’s very much a traditionalist and far too conservative for his own good. My poor dear didn’t have a clue what he was in for when he married me. Even after discovering that I could be a

I was three-years-old when this picture was taken and I was NOT a happy camper. Not only didn’t I want to be where I was (inside the house), but I wanted my pink pants and my white shirt and I wanted to be outside. This picture is the aftermath of that battle, shortly after my mother had popped me in my mouth for saying a bad word. Daddy said it all the time so how was I to know there was something wrong with it. In fact, I recall having said it before and a few of the family members laughing at how “cute” it was. Being cute with Mommy got me a busted lip. Go figure. What I love most about this picture is my attitude. That bad word is just seeping out my eyes. Mommy may have won that battle, but she didn’t stand a rat’s chance in hell of winning the war. I still have much of that attitude but my battles have changed over the years. In fact, there is a whole different kind of fight inside me now. I challenge myself now instead of challenging others. Blogging is my next challenge and I’m