It's All in the Details

I am swamped, buried in technical nomenclature and schematics of guidelines and sample plans of details to be submitted to our new "community association" here at what I fondly refer to as the HGTV Dream Home we paid for (though it's not nearly as fancy or glamourous as those). Cexy and I are slogging through paperwork muck that makes a trek through the marsh across the street seem like a casual stroll. I sit down to write only to discover another document to review, another form to complete, another contract to sign. Buried in minutiae, it feels as though I've barely written a word.
I realize that these are totally First World problems. I now have a handsome young pool boy (and a pool to go with him) on a sizeable chunk of land in a preserve. Our neighbors like to keep to themselves, as do we. It's why we chose to live here. That even extends to inside our home. Our bedroom is on one side of the house while guest rooms are on the other--with an expanse of living room separating the two. Like I said, this is our HGTV Dream Home only we paid for it. So why can't I write?
Because we're still surrounded with boxes from the move? Because we're still giving away furniture to make room for the stuff in the boxes? Because we're planning to retire here in 20 years and only leave if we have to go to a nursing home so I want everything to be perfect? Because we want a fenced area for the dog?
There aren't enough "becauses". I don't believe in writers block. I've just got to get my butt in some chair and my hands on my laptop's keyboard and go. Ready, set...

Movin' on Down

Yes, I've just dated myself by taking a page from seventies hit TV show The Jeffersons. I have, in fact, moved on down...to Florida. I don't move well. At all. I inevitably freak out. Big Cexy and I argue over small details which, during a move, are monumental. So far I've been right on almost everything, as he's had to learn the hard way. I won't rub it in with an "I told you so" because I got the hell out of Dodge on Monday shortly after the movers showed up. That allowed him to do things his way and for us to stop arguing. Let's face it--when you've both issued apologies by 9 am, it's not good.

Instead I've spent the week in such unseasonably warm weather that I had to go buy short sleeve T-shirts and capris as opposed to the long sleeve T's, jeans, and boots I packed when I left Atlanta. (Okay, okay. So I bought a pair of sandals, too. Can you blame me?) It's supposed to be in the 70's when we move in our new house on Saturday. I was like Oh, hell no! at the thought of doing it in jeans and a snuggly long sleeve T-shirt.

Cexy is driving down after he finishes a meeting this afternoon.

The Ones You Love

No, I didn't write any Thanksgiving stuff on social media this year. A member of our family has been in and out of the hospital since August and was in hospice. His three sons came in from across the country on Thanksgiving Day to make peace with him and say their goodbyes. He passed away shortly after. His wife died suddenly on Thanksgiving Day four years ago. The holiday is destroyed for my niece who has lost both of those grandparents on it. I've told her we'll pick something random like Arbor Day to celebrate instead.

If you have read my books as Kristi Hancock or Kristine Bria, you know that I keep it real with family business. Relationships are messy. They can truly be love/hate. A child can spend their life seeking the approval of a parent who continually disrespects them. Siblings will compete for decades believing that the other is the parents' favorite and trying to prove their worth only to discover they were loved equally. Those are just a few scenarios. While none of them describe this particular situation, it's definitely a complicated one.

So while you've been eating your turkey, we've been grieving. You'll have to forgive me for not being "Rah! Rah! Thanksgiving!" Quite honestly, I can't even think about future ones.

Meanwhile, do me a favor. Hug those close to you. Call them. Tell them you love them while they can hear it.

And I promise to get back to giving you happily ever afters. I need them as much as you do.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...New Year's Eve? Sixteen Candles? Wh--?

Yes, everyone hates that the holidays seem to keep coming earlier...and, yes, we (Liquid Silver Books and I) know that Halloween isn't even here yet, but we are so excited about Fireworks for Four that we couldn't wait until December 31st to share it with you!

When a Dominant billionaire Craig experiences love at first sight with Caroline and enlists the help of his friends, Tate and Gabe, to seduce the body-painted model working his New Year’s Eve party, no one can stop the sexual explosion.

See what I mean? Really, once you read it, you might even be mad that we waited this long to release it.

Here's what's really crazy: when I was writing the story, I had this huge lightbulb moment when I realized that I was essentially writing about Jake Ryan from the movie Sixteen Candles as an adult. Craig Bishop has it all--looks, brains, money, his own company, a killer house that looks out over fireworks from Seattle's Space Needle, and a New Year's Eve party that people are dying to come to. You get the idea. What he really wants is to have a quiet holiday at home in front of the fireplace, but he hasn't found Ms. Right to share it with. In other words, he'd rather be sitting on top his dining room table with Molly Ringwald and her birthday cake than surrounded by a houseful of people who call themselves his friends.

That's when I had flashbacks of Jake's conversations with The Geek... The way that Jake opened up to Anthony-Michael Hall's character and said, Look around. You see all this? It doesn't matter. I want something real with someone who matters to me and who cares about me equally in return.

So of course I was all over IMDB looking at quotes from the movie and Googling "Jake Ryan" for memes that you can find on my Facebook page.

Yes, all of this while writing my first (light) BDSM GLBT menage. And I loved it. I hope you do, too.

HEADS UP! That's right, I said GLBT as in there are Male/Male sex scenes in this book in addition to the menage (that would be all four characters--one woman and three men having sex together). If that's not for you, that's cool. You might enjoy Dessert for Two instead.

Shame on Slut-Shamers

Fireworks for Four, Sweet Tooth Book 2, comes out on Monday (YAY!!!!). But here's what you really need to know about the collection:

My "Sweet Tooth" series is tongue-in-cheek (and everywhere else) because the only thing sweet is the dessert porn. The other common thread in the series is the theme of the one night stand--something that seems to encourage slut-shaming from men and women alike. This collection of novellas celebrates the transformational power of the one night stand and the empowerment it offers women who are brave enough to risk their emotions and their reputations to seize the day (or in this case, the night). I'd like to take this opportunity to congratulate all the women with the guts to go for it. Carpe diem, ladies!

My Debut Novella: Rock His World

Every good boy deserves a punk rock girl!

 

Available August 10th

PRE-ORDER

 

I'm not getting terribly creative with this post because I'm so excited that my Book Birthday is almost here! Please allow me to introduce you to Sasha and Avery.

Sasha Ford lives life her way. Tattooed, pierced, and professionally satisfied, the Seattle music-lover has found her groove. She’s living her dream as a free-spirited graphic artist, but the fearless vixen has grown bored with her booty-calls and is on the prowl for a new conquest. Her trademark black eyeliner and scarlet lips serve as both invitation and warning to any man she pursues.

 

Seven years of college transformed small-town bad boy Avery Kingston into a super-geek. New to the city with his shiny PhD, he struggles to find his social identity by connecting with his tough guy roots. Attempting to merge his past with his present in the counter-culture, he finds himself in over his head—especially when sexy Sasha drags him into her world of mosh-pits and after-parties.

 

Sasha expects a one-night stand, but their searing chemistry leads them in a direction she’s less than comfortable with. Confronted with the female version of who Avery thought he could be, Sasha’s sexual advances bring out a carnal need in Avery to give as good as he gets. Sasha believes she can’t maintain her own identity if she’s in a serious relationship, but Avery wants more than sex from his hot rebel. He must convince Sasha of his love and respect for her fierce independent streak or say goodbye to her forever. Is Avery strong enough to make Sasha break her own rules?

Love Potion No. 9

Today I was a guest on a bunch of romance blogs. We romance authors have been talking with readers about best and worst pick-up lines as part of the Summer eReader Giveaway (four Kindles plus dozens of runner-up prizes). You can get in on the fun at the Book Scoop Blog.

I stole my sister's worst then contrasted it with how my love story started with a Mountain Dew:

The Worst and The Best

At first I thought, what in the world am I going to write about? I've been married for what seems like forever, and I dated my husband exclusively for almost four years before that. So I decided to cheat. My sister is divorced and just experienced the worst pick-up attempt of her life. I'm going to share her nightmare then I'll tell you the simple thing my husband did to hook me then reel me in.

Sis, who isn't currently "on the hunt" has an old friend from high school who plays acoustic covers at different bars near where she lives. She likes to go see him with some of her girl and guy friends from high school to indulge in some no-pressure nostalgia. The singer--we'll call him Mike--knows their little tribe comes just to see and support him, so he visits with them between sets.

Approaching one of Mike's breaks on a Saturday, an older gentleman sidled up to my sister and started hitting on her. Whatever his come-ons were, they had zero impact on Sis who kept finding more creative and aggressive ways to say "no" while simultaneously flagging Mike down to come save her.

My sister is gorgeous and always has been. I've spent my life watching men fall all over themselves to grovel at her feet, leaving me to wonder, What am I? Chopped liver? The point being that I can imagine exactly how this man did whatever he could to garner her attention. He worked hard at it. Before Mike could finish his song and come to Sis's rescue, the man knocked his drink over. On my sister. On purpose. He then proceeded to wipe it off her exposed legs as she fought off his octopus-like moves.

Then he said, "I'm as bad as my grandchildren."

Sis isn't looking for someone at all right now and has only dated guys her own age. Nothing against AARP members, but she isn't interested in pursuing them or anyone else. Regardless, she's just not into more experienced men, let alone seeking them out on Match.com. I can only imagine her trying to clean herself up while simultaneously fending him off--while holding down her mini-skirt and sitting on a barstool at a hightop table. Imagine anyone trying to do that without falling off the seat.

Talk about what not to do.

Which begs the question, What in the world did my husband do to land a wild child like me?

He didn't say a word. Mr. H. is a major introvert and barely spoke with anyone in our group of friends. He came to visit his brother in our college town right after I left for a two-month internship, so he had bonded with our group while I was away. One of us graduated shortly after I returned, and our small circle of friends met up in a fast food parking lot before heading to the ceremony.

I said, "I'm thirsty."

He passed me his Mountain Dew.

We spent the rest of the day together, talking all through her party and into the night.

In the morning, he kissed me when the sun came up. Sigh.

Every time I share that story I fall in love with him all over again. We're living the dream: happily ever after.

My debut erotic novella Rock His World is available August 10th. www.KristiHancock.com for pre-order links.