Thursday, October 30, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Corwin wanted to be a Clone Trooper more than anything, so he saved up his birthday money and bought the voice changing Clone Trooper helmet while I tried to figure out how to make the armor. Luckily, we already had a blaster. This is what I came up with. Yep...the utility belt actually holds stuff. After all, what good is a non-functioning utility belt?
Killian, bless his heart, only needs a salt shaker and a knife - he's going as "Assault (a salt) with a deadly weapon."
Now I just have to make a pair of dark faery wings for B, an 80s outfit for Jess (since when did the clothing I wore in high school become relegated to the land of costumes?) and an Edwardian frock coat, fit for a vampire for my sister, Cait.
Yeah...it's time to hit the sewing room again.
Anybody else out there making costumes?
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Lisabet Sarai - www.lisabetsarai.com
Saskia Walker - www.saskiawalker.co.uk
Brynn Paulin - www.brynnpaulin.blogspot.com/
Cindy Spencer Pape - www.cindyspencerpape.com
Bronwyn Green - www.bronwyngreenblog.blogspot.com/
Aurora Rose Lynn - www.auroraroselynn.net
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Knight of the Round Table, Sir Gareth of Orkney has fought for Arthur and Britain for years. Now he is called to serve his king and his country in a way he never anticipated. King Arthur and the Lady of the Lake have resurrected the ritual of Beltane and Gareth is expected to oversee the rite. His ability to perform his duty is tested when he discovers the identity of the maiden chosen for the sacred ritual. He wants her for his own and balks at having to select a man to perform the ceremony with her.
Willow, an initiate of Avalon, accompanies the High Priestess to Camelot. She never imagined she’d find the man who had sparked her fascination as a child. More disturbing is the realisation that her childhood adoration has grown into something deeper, more sexual. However, duty to Avalon forces her to sacrifice herself to another man in the upcoming Beltane ritual.
Can the fragile blossom of love survive the rite of spring or will it be crushed beneath the yoke of honour and duty?
“Touch her, and I will geld you before you take your next breath.” Rage filling her vision, Willow stepped in front of the young priestess at her side and blocked the advances of the man before them.
His thin lips peeled away from his teeth in a poor facsimile of a smile. “Mayhap, I will touch you instead.”
As he reached for her breast, she drew her dagger from the sheath attached to her kirtle and pressed the blade against the man’s groin. Unprepared for her bold move, he gasped and froze in place. She did not bother hiding her smile as she pushed the blade upwards bringing him to his toes.
Hooves clattered over the courtyard’s stones and a rider dismounted, but she refused to look away from the man in front of her.
The rider moved beside her and locked a warm hand around her wrist.
She turned to glare at the second man. “Have you come to protect your brother in arms from my blade?”
Recognition hit her low in the gut as familiar eyes, blue as a bright autumn day, crinkled with poorly concealed amusement. Gareth.
A crooked smile quirked his lips as he ignored her question as well as her barb. “While I am tempted to allow you to make good on your threat, I do not think the King would appreciate you spilling the blood of one of his knights.” He paused and eyed the man at the end of her dagger.“No matter how much he likely deserves it.”
“Release me,” she demanded. She refused to allow either man to think she was a helpless child.
In response, Gareth grabbed the other man’s tunic and gently, but firmly, pulled her weapon from its intended target. “The priestess is none of your concern, Maleagant. You will give her a wide berth or Arthur will hear of this.”
The other man narrowed his eyes, rage bright in the icy depths. “They are pagan whores.”
Yanking free of Gareth’s grasp, he stumbled backwards. “God does not care for them. Why should Arthur?”
Willow shook with anger as he disappeared from view. She turned her scowl on the man who still held her wrist, caressing the underside with a callused thumb. A shiver worked down her spine as he continued to stroke the sensitive skin.
“Ever the protector of the weak, Sir Gareth the Brave,” she scoffed as she shook her hair from her face, taking care not to reveal how his slightest touch affected her. Though she had taken pains to pretend otherwise, her childhood infatuation had never truly gone away. If anything, it was worse than ever. However, it was difficult to rectify the noble knight before her with the boy who had pushed her into mud puddles and put frogs in her hair.
Gangly, red-haired Gareth had become a knight to be envied. Gone were the knobby knees and clumsy feet of a boy. In his place stood a man, tall and broad shouldered. If the heavy mail covering his body was any indication, he was also thickly muscled—he would have to be to support the weight of the metal as if it were no more cumbersome than his tunic. His hair had darkened to a russet brown, and his voice had deepened, though it still held the rich accent of the Orkney Isles. Only his eyes remained unchanged and right now they bored into hers.
She attempted to tug her arm free of his grasp, but he held firm, pulling her closer until she needed to tilt her head to meet his gaze. The heat of his body surrounded her, chasing away the chill of the spring morning.
“You have made a fierce enemy in Malaegant,” he growled.
She shrugged. “I do not fear him.”
“You should.” He tightened his grip on her wrist. Plucking her dagger from her fingers, he slipped it into his belt.
How dare he appropriate her weapon as though she was a child who could not be trusted to handle sharp objects? Her irritation deepened.
“You have humiliated him, and he will not soon forget it. If ever.” Lifting her chin, he forced her to meet his gaze. “You must take heed, Willow—especially while you are at Camelot. He is a dangerous man.”
She leaned closer and gently lifted his hair from his forehead, enjoying the sensation of his silky locks sliding through her fingers. Squinting, she peered intently at him as if searching for hidden secrets.
Frowning, he caught her wandering hand and pressed it to his chest. “What do you play at, woman?”
“I play at nothing. I am simply searching for hoof prints.”
His brow furrowed and confusion spread across his features. “Hoof prints?”
She bit her lip, stifling the smile that threatened. “Your solicitous behaviour is so unlike your usual treatment of me, I can only assume your mount has kicked you in the head recently.”
His firm lips twitched, but whether in amusement or annoyance, she was unable to tell. She fought the urge to smooth her fingertips across them.
He leaned toward her, bringing his face so close she could feel the warm flutter of his breath upon her skin. Was he going to kiss her?
Holding her gaze, Gareth slowly raised her palm to his lips and brushed a kiss across the centre. Nervous excitement trembled through her middle as he raised his head slightly. “Have a care, Willow, lest I feel the need to remind you that Malaegant is not the only dangerous man nearby.”
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Okay, back to the regularly scheduled dream insanity.
In my dream, Ellen Degeneres and Portia De Rossi had a baby – unfortunately, Portia died and somehow I was given the task of raising this child. The baby and I had to stay in the hospital while hospital workers tried to extract breast milk from Portia using an Easy Bake Oven and ‘reverse gravity.’ Yeah...don’t ask – I have no clue.
This was no normal baby. He grew from an infant to a toddler overnight. He was incredibly active and kept breaking his only toy. When we’d go to visit Ellen, I mentioned it to her and instead of helping us out by replacing the toy, she just showed me where I could stand in line in the hot, hot sun with a cranky toddler to get it fixed using chewed gum and scotch tape.
Later I took the baby and my other kids to visit my mom – I thought she’d want to meet her new grandson. Instead of her neighbourhood, she now lived at the end of a two-track in the woods. Unfortunately, the road to her house was riddled with piles of hot tar and burning tires so I had to utilize stunt driving techniques I didn’t know I possessed.
When we got there, my brother’s girlfriend was hurling shoes (one of each pair that she owns – which holy cow, in real life is a metric ton – in the dream, it was never ending) at my brother and my mom. She stopped briefly when I came in with the kids, took one look at the baby, screamed and ran away.
So...thoughts? Comments? Apocalyptic prophesies?
Anyone? Anyone at all?
Oh hey!! Don't forget about the Halloween contest! Free books, people! Free books!
Monday, October 13, 2008
Don't forget about the Halloween contest! It's super easy and there are lots of great prizes!
All you have to do is between October 6th and midnight October 20th, click on the following links and find the Jack O'Lantern each author has hidden.Send an email to
http://webmail.wingsisp.com/src/compose.php?send_to=dakota.rebel%40hotmail.com with the name of the author and a description of what is depicted on their pumpkin, as well as your name and email address.
On Wednesday October 22nd a winner will be selected at random from the correct entries.
Winners will be notified by email, and announced on each of the sites listed.Good luck and Happy October!
Here are the blogs to visit.
And here is the list of authors donating ebooks.
Cindy Spencer Pape
Good Luck Everyone!!!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
I got seven inches hacked off on Saturday...on a whim. So my hair is now up to my chin. I'm assured by my dear friends and family (except for my kids and day care kids) that it looks good. It just takes me a while to get used to change so I keep squinting at it whenever I'm in the bathroom.
Anyway, I'm off to work on a book that should have been done ages ago. Don't forget to enter the Halloween contest and while you're blog hopping be sure to check out Brynn Paulin's post on Alpha Males on the Get a Grip blog!
Monday, October 6, 2008
Send an email to http://webmail.wingsisp.com/src/compose.php?send_to=dakota.rebel%40hotmail.com with the name of the author and a description of what is depicted on their pumpkin, as well as your name and email address.
Good luck and Happy October!