I’m always on the lookout for interesting places to buy beads that I can use in my own pieces. I found out about one recently called Bead For Life and I quickly pulled up their website to purchase some handmade beads. They also have necklaces, bracelets and earrings (plus a few more things) for sale and I just think they’re beautiful.

From their website: “BeadforLife eradicates extreme poverty by creating bridges of understanding between impoverished Africans and concerned world citizens. Ugandan women turn colorful recycled paper into beautiful beads, and people who care open their hearts, homes and communities to buy and sell the beads. The beads thus become income, food, medicine, school fees and hope. It is a small miracle that enriches us all.”

Their website is: http://www.beadforlife.org

Now it’s your turn… are there any sites/organizations that you buy from that are eco-friendly or give back to the community in some way? I’m definitely interested in learning about them!

I also have other great news. One of My Jeigh Lynn titles has been offered a contract. I’ve very excited. I’m hoping to jump to work on it after I finish WA, then after that? Either a new Cowboy story or perhaps the new Sci-Regency. But WA first. I’m sending a proposal by Tuesday next week come hell or high water, wish me luck! I can’t wait to show ya’ll more of Matt and Aubrey.

Valentine’s Day, the most romantic day of the year, always leaves me a bit chilled. I’m not really a romantic, and so it goes without saying, most of the time this holiday rolls by without me noticing. And I know…how can I write hot sizzling romance if I don’t believe in it? But that’s not really true. I do believe in love, and well, I just have a hard time taking one day out of the year to celebrate it.

Then I got to thinking about my newest release, Last Chance, a M/M Vampire romance, and I thought — if I had a vampire lover, what would I buy him for Valentine’s Day? Crazy thought, but I always spend way too much time in my head.

I went online and googled Valentine’s Day gifts for him and up popped several gift guides. Pretty conventional stuff – the usual chocolates, gadgets (*sigh* always men and gadgets my DH would never use) and silly stuff like printed boxers.

So here’s my version of what I’d offer in the Valentine Gift Guide for your Favorite Vampire:

– Instead a heart shaped box of chocolate, a chocolate coffin filled with blood-filled Kisses wrapped in black and crimson foil.

– A dozen black roses with very, very sharp thorns.

– Not candy hearts that are stamped with FOREVER but a beating heart

– A candlelight dinner at your vampire’s favorite cemetery

– The blood of a virgin – male or female – depending on your vampire’s gender preference!

– Personalized red boxers stamped with I LUV B- BLOOD (my blood type – but you can have your own blood type stamped on them to make it a more personalized gift- *grin*)

– A romantic cruise for two down the Aries river in Transylvania

– Gold cufflinks in the shape of fangs

– For a joke gift – a bottle of garlic scented cologne or a mirror with the your vampire lover’s image painted on it! Or not…

I’d love to hear of other great gifts to add to my vampire gift guide. Now I’m off to buy my honey a card and a box of chocolates! He’s only human. :)

I’ll leave you with a brief excerpt of my latest release Last Chance.

Excerpt: Last Chance by Viki Lyn, M/M Vampire Romance, copyright 2010, published by Loose Id

“Hey, look out!”

Aric Christian looked up, but not fast enough.

Boink!

A bullet of pain shot between his eyebrows, and his hands flew to his head. He didn’t catch his fall; instead his body crumpled, his vision blurring, white pages raining down on him. Grumbling under his breath, he found himself on the ground, his ears ringing and his sunglasses half twisted off his face.

As his vision cleared, a blond Apollo came into view holding a…football?

“Hey, are you okay?” A broad hand pressed against his forehead.

Aric looked up, ready to complain, but gaped instead, his mouth flapping like a fish tail. He leaned back on his elbows and groaned.

The god hovering over him pushed down on his shoulder. “Hey, you better lay there for a sec. You really got pinged.”

Pinged? What kind of word is that?

Yet the guy was even more good-looking up close, and he smelled nice. Blond bangs fringed china blue eyes, and his lashes were made even more golden by the sunlight. Concern was evident in the downturn of his well-shaped mouth, a kind expression that made him seem generous.

“Hey, do you know your name? Where you are?”

Aric forced himself to look away from those startling blue eyes. By the look of this guy’s powerfully built physique, he had to be a jock. And even with Aric’s limited experience, he knew jocks weren’t the sharpest pencils in the pack. He liked a guy who had some brains, and this one’s vocabulary told Aric he didn’t have too much going on upstairs.

Aric swatted the dude’s hand away, then ripped off his damaged sunglasses and waved them in the guy’s face. Showing anger was better than showing any kind of attraction. That would be too humiliating. “These cost a fortune.”

That generous mouth now quirked up into a smile, making him appear not the least bit regretful. “Sorry, but you walked right between us.”

“You hit me with your fucking football, and you say it’s my fault?” Aric snapped. Then he gasped, eyeing his lab notes sailing across the glade. His stomach plummeted at the sight of all his hard work flying into oblivion. All his sexual attraction hurtled from his mind as he scrambled to his knees. “My papers!”

Another powerful shove on his shoulder and Aric plopped back down onto the grass.

“Stay put; I’ll get them.”

Aric watched in fascination as the god dodged flying Frisbees and leaped around barking dogs and students reading on the lawn, scooping the papers into his hands. His graceful movements reminded Aric of someone; he’d seen those moves before… Oh fuck! That jock happened to be the big man on campus and a Heisman Trophy candidate.

Excerpt and buy link: http://www.loose-id.com/Last-Chance.aspx

Thank you Fiction With Friction for having me here!

Viki Lyn

http://www.vikilynromance.blogspot.com

Also, check out Viki’s website for a cool contest: http://www.vikilyn.com/contests.htm

Read on for a celebratory excerpt :)

Music. Sex. Fame. What’s missing? Surely not the “L” word…

And it scares the hell out of both of them.

(Warning: This book contains adult language, hot gay sex, weird bands, colorful prophylactics and unforgivable fashion crimes.)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Kalil woke to a dry, furry tongue and a fierce pain trying to jackhammer his skull apart. He groped along the side of his head with one hand. His brain did not appear to be leaking out his ears, which must mean he had the worst hangover in the history of the universe.

Leaving his hand over his face to block out the light bleeding red through his closed eyelids, he lay as still as humanly possible and tried to piece together just what the hell he’d done the night before. He and the band had put on a totally historic show at The Tabernacle, after which Adder had taken everyone out for celebratory drinks at a dim, grungy, very loud hole-in-the-wall bar somewhere in the depths of Midtown.

The last thing Kalil recalled with any clarity was knocking back several shots of tequila. Everything after that only came back to him in flashes.

Laughter. Music. The press of bodies all around, moving like it was the end of the world and they only had a few hours to dance a lifetime’s worth. A lean frame pressing against his chest. Long arms around him, fingers drawing patterns on the small of his back. Smells of liquor and sweat. Hazel eyes dark and heavy with lust. Soft lips, softer tongue. A hand between his legs. A proposition, an acceptance. Adder’s smile shining bright as the sun as they left the bar together.

Wait. Together?

Kalil thought about it. Yes, they’d left together. No Harpo. No Vi. Just Kalil and Adder, stumbling down the street with their arms around each other.

Oh shit. What the fuck did I do?

Kalil cracked one eye open and peered between his fingers, wincing as the sunlight pouring through the open curtains tried to slice his head open. He saw a scarred and battered wooden table, a white clock-radio and an open closet with an overflowing laundry basket inside before the pain forced his eyes shut again.

At least he was in his own apartment. Maybe the part about leaving with Adder—not to mention the fuzzy mental images of earth-shaking, mind-melting sex—was just his overactive imagination. He’d indulged in enough Adder-centered fantasies lately that the idea of him dreaming the whole thing wasn’t too farfetched.

Behind him, something hummed. The mattress moved. An arm slipped around his middle and a warm, naked body molded itself to his back. “Good morning, beautiful,” Adder’s sleep-rough voice murmured in his ear. “Or afternoon, rather. Mmmm, I slept like a baby in your bed.”

Fuck. I didn’t dream it. Kalil groaned. He couldn’t decide if the gymnastics going on in his stomach were brought on by too much alcohol or Adder’s dick nestled in the crease of his ass. “Please tell me we didn’t do what I think we did.”

“Sorry, darling, but we did. Repeatedly.” Adder’s hand wandered down Kalil’s belly. He wound a curl of Kalil’s pubic hair around one finger and gave a gentle tug. “You were magnificent.”

“Oh God.”

“Mmm, that’s what you kept screaming last night when I was fucking you.”

Mortified, Kalil pressed the heel of his hand to his splitting forehead. “Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t believe I had sex with you.”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember it. Ah, the dangers of too much alcohol.” Adder nuzzled Kalil’s neck. “But then again, if you hadn’t had so much to drink, I doubt you would’ve been quite so…uninhibited.” The clever, evil fingers slid out of Kalil’s pubes to worm between his thighs. “Let’s do it again. You can fuck me this time.”

Kalil about jumped out of his skin when Adder’s thumb stroked the head of his cock. Ignoring Adder’s grasping hands, Kalil shoved himself out of Adder’s embrace and into a sitting position. He stumbled out of bed, slipped on a used condom, banged his knee on the bedside table and finally fetched up against the wall. Agony exploded through his skull, which in this case was a good thing because it nearly drowned out all the other aches and pains which flared to life with his sudden movement. He knew why his ass was so sore—oh my God, Adder fucked me; shit, shit, shit—but he had no idea why the rest of him throbbed like he’d just finished the Ironman, and wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I think you should go home now.” Kalil leaned against the wall, one arm around his protesting belly and the other holding his head on. “Fucking hell. Remind me to never, ever drink again.”

Shaking his head, Adder slid out of bed with far more grace than Kalil had. He stalked forward like a panther. “My dear Special K. You are not going to stand there and tell me this was a mistake, are you? That you didn’t enjoy having my cock inside you?” Adder pressed both hands onto the wall on either side of Kalil’s head. “Because I know you did.” A sly grin curved Adder’s red and swollen mouth. “You were quite vocal about that.”

Kalil scowled. His jaw ached almost as much as his rear end, and his throat felt raw, which probably meant Adder was right. Kalil had always been a screamer. The few hazy memories he was able to stir up from the depths of last night’s inebriation told him he had indeed enjoyed himself. A lot.

Dammit.

With a pathetic little whimper, Kalil slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He rested his forehead on his drawn-up knees. “Look, obviously we were both pretty drunk last night—”

“I wasn’t.”

Kalil lifted his head long enough to glare, then put it down again when Adder just winked at him. “Well, I was. Very drunk. My judgment was crap. Yes, I’m physically attracted to you. But I did not want to sleep with you.”

“Yes, you did.”

I will not kill him. Maybe another day. Not right now. “Sexual attraction and willingness to have sex are not the same thing.” Inspiration struck, and Kalil went with it before he could overanalyze it. “I only had sex with you because I was drunk. Is that really what you want? Someone you can only fuck if they’re too shitfaced to know what they’re doing? Can’t you do better than that?”

Silence. Kalil lifted his head and stole a cautious look at Adder’s face. His expression was thoughtful. Kalil held still and waited, doing his best not to stare slack-jawed at Adder’s nude body. It was a very nice body, tall and slim with smooth, streamlined muscles. He’d seen Adder nearly naked on stage, of course. The man was a shameless exhibitionist and loved to strip to his underwear during their performances, but this was the first time Kalil had seen him without at least his skimpy green Lycra shorts. Not counting last night, which Kalil didn’t completely remember anyway.

He couldn’t help noticing Adder’s groin was shaved bare. The snake tattoo wound all the way up his thigh to the base of his cock. The snake’s fangs formed inked dents at the juncture of groin and shaft, and the forked tongue corkscrewed the length of the shaft to tickle the head.

Kalil bit back the urge to lick it. He had a sinking feeling he’d already done that.

“You’re right,” Adder declared, shocking Kalil out of his perusal of Adder’s privates. “I can do better.”

“Oh. Uhhh…” Kalil blinked up at Adder. “Yeah. Good.”

Adder laughed. “Oh, my lovely Kalil. If you could only see the way you’re looking at me right now.” He cupped his balls in one hand, wrapped the other around his prick and wiggled his hips. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like just one more taste of my cock?”

Kalil swallowed. “Yes. I mean, yes, I’m sure,” he clarified when Adder’s smile turned lecherous. “Would you please just leave now? Please.”

To his surprise, Adder nodded. “All right.”

Not quite believing his good luck—it is good luck, of course it is—Kalil studied Adder while he plucked his clothes from the pile on the floor. “So. We’re okay, right? I mean, as far as the band.”

Adder pinned him with an indecipherable look. Kalil ran a nervous hand through his hair. God, if sleeping with Adder got him kicked out of the best band he’d ever been in, he’d didn’t know what he’d do.

“We’re fine,” Adder said, finally, his voice soft. He shrugged into his vivid yellow cardigan. “I’ve told you over and over again that us having sex wouldn’t have any effect on the band. You’ll see that I’m right.”

“Yeah. Well. Good.” Kalil watched with some disappointment as Adder’s tattoo disappeared under a pair of red sequined pants.

Grinning as if he knew exactly what Kalil was thinking, Adder slipped on his sneakers, slinked over to Kalil, grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. “Sleep until you feel better, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”

“Uh-huh.” Kalil told himself he was only leaning against Adder’s chest because he was so dizzy he’d probably fall over if he didn’t. “Four o’clock, right?”

“Right.” Before Kalil quite knew what was happening, Adder lifted his chin and kissed him.

Kalil knew he shouldn’t allow it to happen. He should push Adder away and tell him off. But he didn’t. He opened his mouth and let Adder’s tongue find his, in spite of mutual morning-after-a-drinking-binge breath. He liked to think he gave Adder his way because it would get rid of him faster, rather than because it felt so damn good.

“Goodbye, my sweet Kalil,” Adder whispered, stroking Kalil’s cheek. “Next time we make love, it’ll be when we’re both sober. I’m looking forward to that.”

Next time?

Too stunned to answer, Kalil gaped as Adder released him, turned and walked out the door without a backward glance. He’d thought that Adder would at least stop coming on to him now that he’d gotten what he’d been chasing all this time. Evidently not. It seemed that Kalil would have to keep fighting him off, only it would be harder than ever now that he knew—kind of—what he’d been missing.

Groaning, Kalil let his head fall forward into his hands. What the fuck was he going to do now?

Luckily, the act of using my creative muscles is making me want to sit at the computer and write a bit! I’ll have to see what I can come up with.

As soon as I have my items made and posted at Brenda’s site, I’ll let you all know so you can check them out :)

Give me a world where shapeshifters and witches are fact.

Give me a world where a rock band can be made up of all openly gay men and still be wildly successful.

Give me a world where men regularly discover that they want to have sex with other men and that’s okay and not a taboo.

Oh, off topic, I started listening to Adam Lambert’s For Your Entertainment this week. Good stuff!!

Well, if I have, that’s too bad. Y’all just get to hear about it again *g*

Awesome author A.J. Llewellyn linked an article in a style magazine recently via Twitter (yesterday, I think?) about guys borrowing their girlfriends’ makeup. The article itself was pretty innocuous. The comments? Not so much. Some of them were really, REALLY hateful. A lot of them were along the lines of “REAL MEN DON’T WEAR NO GIRLY SHIT!”

All right. That really pushed my damn buttons. It’s not just because people ought to stay the hell out of everyone else’s make-up habits (WTF is it hurting you, Macho Dude, if some other guy wants to wear make-up? Let it go! Relax. Take a Valium.) What really gets under my skin is how the make-up wearing is seen as A Bad Bad Thing for a MANLY MAN to do because it is something women do, and womanly, feminine things are BAD.

WTF IS UP WITH THAT??? Huh?? Why is being seen as even the tiniest bit feminine such an insult, not only to men, but even to women? “Pussy” is an insult. “Throwing like a girl” is an insult. In a business environment, the more “manly” clothing (dark, tailored, simple, i.e. the business suit-type) is seen as more professional than more feminine clothing.

I’m not sure I’m expressing myself well, but it really bothers me that it seems so ingrained in our society to see female-ness and traits related to it as equating to weakness. And yeah, it bugs me that so many people get their panties in a twist about guys wearing make-up O_O

After many moons of blogging, I have only just now figured out how to reply directly to comments. Yegads. I wasn’t ignoring you all, promise. Just never was the brightest bulb on the tree. Although at the moment I am bright red…

Nostalgia

I was reminded of a song today. “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen)”. Y’all remember that? (I apologize in advance for any earworms.) That song came out right around 1997 if Google is to be trusted. 13 years ago. Ye gods. At the time, at the age of 21, I listened to it and thought “dude, awesome”. Now, at the age of 34, I listen to it again and think my God. If I had only paid attention and remembered that one over the years.

Then again, it is never too late to learn something new.

Which leads me to…

And Call Me in the Morning

Wow, folks. Just…wow. I cannot express how thrilled I am at the response to this one. From the bottom of my heart — thank you, thank you, and thank you again a million times. I love you all.

And last but not least:

Plot Bunnies

Most writers have a horde of them. They jump out of the woodwork and bite us at the strangest of times, or remain stubbornly crowded at the back of the corral like spooked horses when you need one most. But they are there, waiting their turn.

Right now, I’m working on one, considering another, and curious about the rest. I’d love to hear what you all think about some basic concepts. Yea, oh yea, nay, oh my God nay, or other.

1) Single gay fathers
2) A threesome comprised of absolute opposites
3) Reunited lovers (possibly with a murder mystery involved; I have always itched to try my hand at a murder mystery)
4) Beloved enemies
5) Lovers trying their damndest to stay together
6) Priest (or priests)
7) Arden’s story (Arden tried to take over the show in both Tomcat Jones and Buddy Holiday. I suspect I had better give him his own story before he does something truly alarming, which would be very much Arden’s style.)

Addendum

I have actually switched wholly to decaf. I believe it to be having the opposite-of-normal effect. Eek.

Right now, I’m obviously finishing up Broken Rules, so that’s a definite. BR also has two sequels that I will be writing sometime in the future. I also have a sequel contracted for the Storykeeper. This one will be titled Storyteller and is a m/m/f that features Jason’s sister, Magda.

The rest of my schedule is pretty open, though. So, what would you like to see more of? More Felidae books? Maybe Achan’s story? Would you like the sequel to Nut Cream, my werewolf story at Samhain? What about the Horsfall series? Or maybe you’d like to learn more about little Kitten and Rory from the FWF stories I’ve been writing for you guys here. Are there any characters that really call out to you that I haven’t mentioned?

I’m all ears :)

On a side note, I’ve finally refinished and reseasoned the cast iron skillets my mother-in-law gave me. The skillets belonged to Andre’s grandmother, but they were in the same flood that killed her and Andre’s grandfather so they were in bad shape. I’ve had them for a good ten years and I plan on giving them to my oldest son one day. I think his great-grandmother would get a kick out of that. My oldest was the only great grandchild they had at the time of their death and they saw him only weeks before. He was only a few weeks old. She’d also be proud because I learned to make tortillas and I’ve been cooking them on the cast iron. She was a neat lady, and is definitely missed. I’ve fond memories of her from my teenage years. She was a tiny thing who spoke no English and could cook like no ones business but somehow even with the language barrier she and I managed to communicate. She’s teach me Spanish and I’d teach her English. I really hate that my boys didn’t get a chance to know her. So don’t be surprised if you one day see a story with a little ole Abuela who speaks no English.

Until next time….